~Arrival of presents from the King of England for Runjeet Sing at
Lahore.~
In the year 1830, a ship arrived at Bombay, with a present of five
horses from the King of Great Britain to Maharaja Runjeet Sing, the
Seik Chieftain at Lahore, accompanied by a letter of friendship from
his majesty’s minister[1] to that prince. At the recommendation of
Major-General Sir John Malcolm, then governor of Bombay, I had the
honour of being nominated by the Supreme Government of India to proceed
on a mission to the Seik capital, with these presents, by way of the
river Indus. I held at that time a political situation in Cutch, the
only portion of the British dominions in India which borders on the
Indus.
~Information on the Indus desiderated.~
The authorities, both in England and India, contemplated that much
information of a political and geographical nature might be acquired
in such a journey. The knowledge which we possessed of the Indus was
vague and unsatisfactory, and the only accounts of a great portion of
its course were drawn from Arrian, Curtius, and the other historians of
Alexander’s expedition. Sir John Malcolm thus minuted in the records of
government, in August, 1830:--
“The navigation of the Indus is important in every point of view; yet
we have no information that can be depended upon on this subject,
except of about seventy miles from Tatta to Hyderabad. Of the present
state of the Delta we have native accounts, and the only facts which
can be deduced are, that the different streams of the river below
Tatta, often change their channels, and that the sands of all are
constantly shifting; but, notwithstanding these difficulties, boats of
a small draft of water can always go up the principal of them. With
regard to the Indus above Hyderabad, there can be no doubt of its
being, as it has been for more than two thousand years, navigable far
up.”
~Arrangements.~
In addition therefore to the complimentary mission on which I was to be
employed, I had my attention most specially directed to the acquisition
of full and complete information regarding the Indus. This was a matter
of no easy accomplishment, as the Ameers, or rulers of Sinde, had ever
evinced the utmost jealousy of Europeans, and none of the missions
which visited the country had been permitted to proceed beyond their
capital of Hyderabad. The river Indus, likewise, in its course to
the ocean, traverses the territories of many lawless and barbarous
tribes, from whom both opposition and insult might be dreaded. On
these matters much valuable advice was derived from Lieutenant-Colonel
Henry Pottinger, political resident in Cutch, and well known to the
world for his adventurous travels in Beloochistan. He suggested that
it might allay the fears of the Sinde government, if a large carriage
were sent with the horses, since the size and bulk of it would render
it obvious that the mission could then only proceed by water. This
judicious proposal was immediately adopted by government; nor was it in
this case alone that the experience of Colonel Pottinger availed me, as
it will be seen that he evinced the most unwearied zeal throughout the
difficulties which presented themselves, and contributed, in a great
degree, to the ultimate success of the undertaking.
~The escort.~
That a better colour might also be given to my deputation by a route
so unfrequented, I was made the bearer of presents to the Ameers of
Sinde, and at the same time charged with communications of a political
nature to them. These referred to some excesses committed by their
subjects on the British frontier; but I was informed that neither
that, nor any other negotiation, was to detain me in my way to Lahore.
The authorities in England had desired that a suitable escort might
accompany the party; but though the design was not free from some
degree of danger, it was evident that no party of any moderate detail
could afford the necessary protection. I preferred, therefore, the
absence of any of our troops, and resolved to trust to the people of
the country; believing that, through their means, I might form a link
of communication with the inhabitants. Sir John Malcolm observed, in
his letter to the Governor General, that “the guard will be people
of the country he visits, and those familiar with it. Lieut. Burnes
prefers such, on the justest grounds, to any others; finding they
facilitate his progress, while they disarm that jealousy which the
appearance of any of our troops excites.” Nor were my sentiments
erroneous; since a guard of wild Beloochees protected us in Sinde, and
allayed suspicion.
~Appointed to conduct the mission to Lahore.~
When these preliminary arrangements had been completed, I received
my final instructions in a secret letter from the chief secretary
at Bombay. I was informed that “the depth of water in the Indus,
the direction and breadth of the stream, its facilities for steam
navigation, the supply of fuel on its banks, and the condition of the
princes and people who possess the country bordering on it, are all
points of the highest interest to government; but your own knowledge
and reflection will suggest to you various other particulars, in
which full information is highly desirable; and the slow progress of
the boats up the Indus will, it is hoped, give you every opportunity
to pursue your researches.” I was supplied with all the requisite
surveying instruments, and desired to draw bills on honour for my
expenses. In a spirit also purely characteristic of the distinguished
individual who then held the government, I received the thanks of Sir
John Malcolm for my previous services; had my attention drawn to the
confidence now reposed in me; and was informed that my knowledge of
the neighbouring countries and the character of their inhabitants,
with the local impressions by which I was certain to be aided, gave
me advantages which no other individual enjoyed, and had led to my
selection; nor could I but be stimulated by the manner in which Sir
John Malcolm addressed the Governor General of India:--“I shall be
very confident of any plan Lieut. Burnes undertakes in this quarter
of India; provided a latitude is given him to act as circumstances
may dictate, I dare pledge myself that the public interests will be
promoted. Having had my attention much directed, and not without
success, during more than thirty years, to the exploring and surveying
countries in Asia, I have gained some experience, not only in the
qualities and habits of the individuals by whom such enterprises can
be undertaken, but of the pretexts and appearances necessary to give
them success.” A young active and intelligent officer, Ensign J. D.
Leckie, of the 22d Regiment N.I., was also nominated to accompany me; a
surveyor, a native doctor, and suitable establishments of servants were
likewise entertained.
~Departure from Cutch.~
We sailed from Mandivee in Cutch with a fleet of five native boats, on
the morning of the 21st of January, 1831. On the day succeeding our
departure, we had cleared the Gulf of Cutch. The danger in navigating
it has been exaggerated. The eddies and dirty appearance of the sea,
which boils up and bubbles like an effervescing draught, present a
frightful aspect to a stranger, but the natives traverse it at all
seasons. It is tolerably free from rocks, and the Cutch shore is sandy
with little surf, and presents inducements for vessels in distress to
run in upon the land. We passed a boat of fifty tons, which had escaped
shipwreck, with a very valuable cargo from Mozambique, the preceding
year, by this expedient.
~Ability of the Cutch navigators.~
Among the timid navigators of the East, the mariner of Cutch is truly
adventurous; he voyages to Arabia, the Red Sea, and the coast of
Zanguebar in Africa, bravely stretching out on the ocean after quitting
his native shore. The “moallim” or pilot determines his position by
an altitude at noon or by the stars at night, with a rude quadrant.
Coarse charts depict to him the bearings of his destination, and, by
long-tried seamanship, he weathers, in an undecked boat with a huge
lateen sail, the dangers and tornadoes of the Indian Ocean. This use
of the quadrant was taught by a native of Cutch, who made a voyage to
Holland in the middle of last century, and returned, “in a green old
age,” to enlighten his country with the arts and sciences of Europe.
The most substantial advantages introduced by this improver of his
country were the arts of navigating and naval architecture, in which
the inhabitants of Cutch excel. For a trifling reward, a Cutch mariner
will put to sea in the rainy season, and the adventurous feeling is
encouraged by the Hindoo merchants of Mandivee, an enterprising and
speculating body of men.
~Arrival in the Indus.~
On the evening of the 24th we had cleared the Gulf of Cutch, and
anchored in the mouth of the Koree, the eastern, though forsaken,
branch of the Indus, which separates Sinde from Cutch. The Koree leads
to Lueput, and is the largest of all the mouths of the river, having
become a branch of the sea as the fresh water has been turned from its
channel. There are many spots on its banks hallowed in the estimation
of the people. Cotasir and Narainseer are places of pilgrimage to
the Hindoo, and stand upon it and the western promontory of Cutch.
Opposite them lies the cupola of Rao Kanoje, beneath which there rests
a saint, revered by the Mahommedans. To defraud this personage of
frankincense, grain, oil, and money, in navigating the Koree, would
entail, it is superstitiously believed, certain shipwreck. In the
reverence we recognise the dangers and fear of the mariner. There is a
great contrast between the shores of Sinde and Cutch; the one is flat
and depressed, nearly to a level with the sea, while the hills of Cutch
rise in wild and volcanic cones, which meet the eye long after the
coast has faded from the view. We gladly exchanged this grandeur for
the dull monotony of the shores of Sinde, unvaried, as it is, by any
other signs of vegetation than stunted shrubs, whose domain is invaded
by each succeeding tide.
[Illustration: NATIVES OF CUTCH.
Lith.^d. for Burnes’ Travels into Bokhara,__by Day & Haghe Lith.^{rs}
to the King.
John Murray Albemarle S^t. 1834.
_On Stone by L. Haghe._
_Captn. R. M. Grindlay delt._]
~Coast of Sinde.~
We followed the Sinde coast for four or five days, passing all
the mouths of the Indus, eleven in number, the principal of which
we entered and examined, without even the observation of the
inhabitants. There was little indication of our being near the estuary
of so great a river, for the water was only fresh a mile off shore from
the Gora, or largest mouth of the Indus; and the junction of the river
water with that of the sea was formed without violence, and might be
now and then discovered by a small streak of foam and a gentle ripple.
The number and subdivision of the branches diminish, no doubt, the
velocity as well as the volume of the Indus; but it would be supposed
that so vast a river would exercise an influence in the sea far from
its embouchure; and, I believe, this is really the case in the months
of July and August, during the inundation. The waters of the Indus are
so loaded with mud and clay, as to discolour the sea for about three
miles from the land. Opposite its different mouths numberless brown
specks are to be seen, called “pit” by the natives. I found them, on
examination, to be round globules, filled with water, and easily burst.
When placed on a plate, they were about the size of a shilling, and
covered by a brown skin. These specks are considered by the pilots to
denote the presence of fresh water among the salt; for they believe
them to be detached from the sand banks, by the meeting of the sea and
the river. They give a particularly dirty and oily appearance to the
water.
~Anchor on the Indus.~
At night-fall on the 28th, we cast anchor in the western mouth of the
Indus, called the Pittee. The coast of Sinde is not distinguishable
a league from the shore. There is not a tree to be seen, though the
mirage sometimes magnifies the stunted shrubs of the Delta, and gives
them a tall and verdant appearance; a delusion that vanishes with a
nearer approach. From our anchorage, a white fortified tomb, in the Bay
of Curachee, was visible north-west of us; and beyond it lay a rocky
range of black mountains, called Hala, the Irus of Nearchus. I here
read from Arrian and Quintus Curtius the passages of this memorable
scene in Alexander’s expedition, the mouth from which his admiral,
Nearchus, took his departure from Sinde. The river did not exceed 500
yards in width, instead of the 200 stadia (furlongs) of Arrian, and
the twelve miles, which more modern accounts had assigned to it, on
the authority of the natives. But there was still some resemblance
to the Greek author; for the hills over Curachee form with the
intervening country a semicircular bay, in which an island and some
sand-banks might lead a stranger to believe, that the ocean was yet
distant. “Alexander sent two long galleys before the fleet, towards
the ocean, to view a certain island, which they called Cillutas, where
his pilots told him he might go on shore before he entered the main
ocean; and when they assured him that it was a large island, and had
commodious harbours, besides plenty of fresh water, he commanded the
rest of the fleet to put in there, while he himself passed out to sea.”
The island, as it now exists, is scantily covered with herbage, and
destitute of fresh water. In vain I sought an identity of name in the
Indian dialect, for it was nameless; but it presented a safe place
of anchorage; and, as I looked upon it, I could not but think it was
that Cillutas where the hero of Macedon, “drawing up his fleet under
a promontory, sacrificed to the gods, as he had received orders from
Ammon.” Here it was, too, that Nearchus caused “a canal to be dug, of
about five stadia in length, where the earth was easiest to remove; as
soon as the tide began to rise they got their whole fleet safe through
that passage into the ocean.” The Greek admiral only availed himself of
the experience of the people; for it is yet customary among the natives
of Sinde to dig shallow canals, and leave the tides or river to deepen
them; and a distance of five stadia, or half a mile, would call for no
great labour. It is not to be supposed that sand-banks will continue
unaltered for centuries; but I may observe, that there was a large bank
contiguous to the island, between it and which a passage like that
of Nearchus might have been dug with the greatest advantage. “Having
sailed from the mouth of the Indus, Nearchus came to a sandy island,
called Crocola, and proceeded on his voyage, having the mountain Irus
on his right hand.” The topography is here more accurate: two sandy
islands, called Andry, lie off Curachee, at a distance of eighteen
miles from the Indus; and it is worthy of remark, that that portion of
the Delta through which the Pittee runs, is yet denominated “Crocola”
by the natives.
~Ebb and flow of the tides.~
But the ebb and flow of the tides were an object of the greatest
surprise to Alexander’s fleet, and we could soon discover the cause
of their astonishment, for two of our boats stranded at a spot where,
half an hour previously, there had been abundance of water. The tides
inundate the country with great impetuosity, and recede as rapidly,
so that if a vessel be not in the channel, she will be left on shore.
Arrian observes, that “while they continued in that station, an
accident happened which astonished them; namely, the ebbing and flowing
of the waters, like as in the great ocean, inasmuch that the ships were
left upon dry ground, which Alexander and his friends never having
perceived before, were so much the more surprised. But what increased
their astonishment was, that the tide returning a short while after
began to heave the ships, so that * * * some of them were swept away by
the fury of the tide, and dashed to pieces, and others driven against
the bank, and destroyed.”[2]
~Quintus Curtius’s description of Alexander’s disasters.~
A graphic and animated description of these disasters of the Greeks has
been likewise given by Quintus Curtius, and is nowhere more remarkable
than in the allusion to the “knolls” rising above the river like
“little islands,” for at full tide the mangrove shrubs present exactly
that appearance; but let the author speak in his own words:--
“About the third hour, the ocean, according to a regular alternation,
began to flow in furiously, driving back the river. The river, at
first, resisted; then impressed with a new force, rushed upwards with
more impetuosity than torrents descend a precipitous channel. The mass
on board, unacquainted with the nature of the tide, saw only prodigies
and symbols of the wrath of the gods. Ever and anon the sea swelled;
and on plains, recently dry, descended a diffused flood. The vessels
lifted from their stations, and the whole fleet dispersed; those who
had debarked, in terror and astonishment at the calamity, ran from
all quarters towards the ships. But tumultuous hurry is slow. * * *
Vessels dash together, and oars are by turns snatched away, to impel
other galleys. A spectator would not imagine a fleet carrying the same
army; but hostile navies commencing a battle. * * * * Now the tide had
inundated all the fields skirting the river, only _tops of knolls_
rising above it like little islands; to these, from the evacuated
ships, the majority swam in consternation. The dispersed fleet was
partly riding in deep water, where the land was depressed into dells;
and partly resting on shoals, where the tide had covered elevated
ground; suddenly breaks on the Macedonians a new alarm more vivid than
the former. The sea began to ebb; the deluge, with a violent drain, to
retreat into the frith, disclosing tracts just before deeply buried.
Unbayed, the ships pitched some upon their prows, others upon their
sides. The fields were strewed with baggage, arms, loose planks, and
fragments of oars. The soldiers scarcely believed what they suffered
and witnessed. Shipwrecks on dry land, the sea in a river. Nor yet
ended their unhappiness; for ignorant that the speedy return of the
tide would set their ships afloat, they predicted to themselves famine
and death. Terrifying monsters, too, left by the waves, were gliding
about at random.” Our little fleet did not encounter such calamity and
alarm as that of Nearchus; for, in Q. Curtius’s words,--“by a gradual
diffusion, the inundation began to raise the ships, presently flooding
all the fields, set the fleet in motion.”
~Reflections.~
I shall not now dwell on these subjects, though eminently interesting;
but, in the course of my narrative, I shall endeavour to identify the
modern Indus with the features of remoter times. If successful in
the enquiry, we shall add to our amusement, and the interest of the
chronicles themselves. It is difficult to describe the enthusiasm one
feels on first beholding the scenes which have exercised the genius
of Alexander. That hero has reaped the immortality which he so much
desired, and transmitted the history of his conquests, allied with his
name, to posterity. A town or a river, which lies on his route, has
acquired a celebrity that time serves only to increase; and, while we
gaze on the Indus, we connect ourselves, at least in association, with
the ages of distant glory. Nor can I pass over such feelings without
observing, that they are productive of the most solid advantages to
history and science. The Scamander has an immortality which the vast
Mississippi itself can never eclipse, and the descent of the Indus by
Alexander of Macedon is, perhaps, the most authentic and best attested
event of profane history.
~Visited by the Sinde authorities.~
The jealousy of the Sinde government had been often experienced, and
it was therefore suggested that we should sail for the Indus, without
giving any previous information. Immediately on anchoring, I despatched
a communication to the agent of the Ameers at Darajee, signifying
my plans; and, in the meanwhile, ascended the river with caution,
anchoring in the fresh water on the second evening, thirty-five miles
from the sea. Near the mouth of the river we passed a rock stretching
across the stream, which is particularly mentioned by Nearchus, who
calls it a “dangerous rock,” and is the more remarkable, since there
is not even a stone below Tatta in any other part of the Indus. We
passed many villages, and had much to enliven and excite our attention,
had we not purposely avoided all intercourse with the people till
made acquainted with the fate of our intimation to the authorities
at Darajee. A day passed in anxious suspense; but, on the following
morning, a body of armed men crowded round our boats, and the whole
neighbourhood was in a state of the greatest excitement. The party
stated themselves to be the soldiers of the Ameer, sent to number
our party, and see the contents of all the boats, as well as every
box that they contained. I gave a ready and immediate assent; and we
were instantly boarded by about fifty armed men, who wrenched open
every thing, and prosecuted the most rigorous search for cannon and
gunpowder. Mr. Leckie and myself stood by in amazement, till it was at
length demanded that the box containing the large carriage should be
opened; for they pretended to view it as the Greeks had looked on the
wooden horse, and believed that it would carry destruction into Sinde.
A sight of it disappointed their hopes; and we must be conjurors, it
was asserted, to have come without arms and ammunition.
~Retire to the mouth of the Indus.~
~Quit the country.~
When the search had been completed, I entered into conversation with
the head man of the party, and had hoped to establish, by his means, a
friendly connection with the authorities; but after a short pause, this
personage, who was a Reis of Lower Sinde, intimated, that a report of
the day’s transactions would be forthwith transmitted to Hydrabad; and
that, in the meanwhile, it was incumbent on us to await the decision of
the Ameer, at the mouth of the river. The request appeared reasonable;
and the more so, since the party agreed to furnish us with every supply
while so situated. We therefore weighed anchor, and dropped down the
river; but here our civilities ended. By the way we were met by several
“dingies” full of armed men, and at night were hailed by one of them,
to know how many troops we had on board. We replied, that we had not
even a musket. “The evil is done,” rejoined a rude Belooche soldier,
“you have seen our country; but we have four thousand men ready for
action!” To this vain-glorious observation succeeded torrents of abuse;
and when we reached the mouth of the river, the party fired their
matchlocks over us; but I dropped anchor, and resolved, if possible,
to repel these insults by personal remonstrance. It was useless; we
were surrounded by ignorant barbarians, who shouted out in reply to
all I said, that they had been ordered to turn us out of the country.
I protested against their conduct in the most forcible language;
reminded them that I was the representative, however humble, of a
great Government, charged with presents from Royalty; and added, that,
without a written document from their master, I should decline quitting
Sinde. An hour’s delay served to convince me that personal violence
would ensue, if I persisted in such a resolution; and as it was not
my object to risk the success of the enterprise by such collision, I
sailed for the most eastern mouth of the Indus, from which I addressed
the authorities in Sinde, as well as Colonel Pottinger, the Resident
in Cutch.
~Communications with the Ameer.~
I was willing to believe that the soldiers had exceeded the authority
which had been granted them; and was speedily put in possession of
a letter from the Ameer, couched in friendly terms, but narrating,
at great length, the difficulty and impossibility of navigating the
Indus. “The boats are so small,” said his Highness, “that only four or
five men can embark in one of them; their progress is likewise slow;
they have neither masts not sails; and the depth of water in the Indus
is likewise so variable as not to reach, in some places, the knee or
waist of a man.” But this formidable enumeration of physical obstacles
was coupled with no refusal from the Ruler himself; and it seemed
expedient, therefore, to make a second attempt, after replying to his
Highness’s letter.
~Return to Sinde.~
On the 10th of February we again set sail for Sinde; but at midnight,
on the 14th, were overtaken by a fearful tempest, which scattered our
little fleet. Two of the vessels were dismasted; we lost our small
boat, split our sails, sprung a leak; and, after being buffeted about
for some days by the fury of the winds and waves, succeeded in getting
an observation of the sun, which enabled us to steer our course, and
finally conducted us in safety to Sinde. One of the other four boats
alone followed us. We now anchored in the Pieteanee mouth of the Indus,
and I forthwith despatched the following document, by a trustworthy
messenger, to the agents at Darajee.
~Fruitless negotiations.~
1. “Let it be known to the Government agent at Darajee, that this is
the memorandum of Mr. Burnes (sealed with his seal, and written in the
Persian language in his own handwriting), the representative (vakeel)
of the English to the Ameer of Sinde, and likewise the bearer of
presents to Maharaja Runjeet Sing from the King of England.
2. “I came to the Indus a few days ago; and you searched my baggage,
that you might report the contents thereof to your master. I have now
returned, and await an answer.
3. “You may send any number of armed men that you please; my life is in
your power; but remember that the Ameer will hold every one responsible
who molests me. Remember, too, that I am a British officer, and have
come without a musket or a soldier (as you well know); placing implicit
reliance on the protection of the ruler of Sinde, to whose care my
Government have committed me.
4. “I send this memorandum by two of my own servants, and look to you
for their being protected.”
This remonstrance drew no reply from the agent at Darajee; for the
individual who had held the situation on our first visit to Sinde, had
been dismissed for permitting us to ascend the river; and our servants
brought us notice that we should not be permitted to land, nor to
receive either food or water. We observed, therefore, the greatest
possible economy in the distribution of our provisions, and placed
padlocks on the tanks, in the hope of reason yet guiding the councils
of the Ameer. When our supply of water failed, I despatched a small
boat up the river to procure some; but it was seized, and the party
detained; which now rendered us hopeless of success, and only anxious
to quit the inhospitable shores of Sinde.
~Imminent danger on the Indus. Quit Sinde.~
On the 22d of February we weighed our anchor, at daylight; and when in
the narrow mouth of the river, the wind suddenly changed. The tide,
which ran with terrific violence, cast us on the breakers of the bar;
the sea rolled over us, and we struck the ground at each succeeding
wave. In despair, the anchor was dropped; and when we thought only of
saving our lives, we found our vessel had rubbed over the breakers of
the bank, and floated. I admired the zeal and bravery of our crew; and
was much struck with their pious ejaculations to the tutelar saint
of Cutch, Shah Peer, when they found themselves beyond the reach of
danger. “Oh! holy and generous saint,” shouted the whole crew, “you are
truly good.” Frankincense was forthwith burned to his honour; and a sum
of money was collected, and hallowed by its fragrance, as the property
of the saint. The amount subscribed testified the sincerity of the poor
men’s gratitude; and if I believed not the efficacy of the offering,
I refused not, on that account, to join, by their request, in the
manifestations of their duty and gratitude. Our other vessel, not so
fortunate as ourselves, was cast on shore, though on a less dangerous
bank. We rendered her assistance, and sailed for Cutch, and anchored in
Mandivee roads after a surprising run of thirty-three hours.
~Negotiations with the Ameer.~
It could not now be concealed that the conduct of the Ameer of Sinde
was most unfriendly; but he yet betrayed no such feeling in his
letters. He magnified the difficulties of navigating the Indus, and
arrayed its rocks, quicksands, whirlpools, and shallows, in every
communication; asserting that the voyage to Lahore had never been
performed in the memory of man. It was evident that he viewed the
expedition with the utmost distrust and alarm; and the native agent,
who resides at Hydrabad on the part of the British Government,
described, not without some degree of humour, the fear and dread of
this jealous potentate. In his estimation, we were the precursors of
an army; and did he now desire to grant us a passage through Sinde,
he was at a loss to escape from the falsehoods and contradictions
which he had already stated in his epistles. One letter went on to
say, that “the Ameer of Sinde avoids giving any reply, lest he should
be involved in perplexity; and he has stopped his ears with the
_cotton_ of _absurdity_, and taken some silly notions into his head,
that if Captain Burnes should now come, he will see thousands of
boats on the Indus, and report the same to his Government, who will
conclude that it is the custom of the Ameer of Sinde to deceive on all
subjects, and that he has no sort of friendship.” At length, after
a remonstrance from Colonel Pottinger, both he and myself received
letters from Hydrabad, offering a road through Sinde by land. As this
might be fairly deemed the first opening which had presented itself
during the whole negotiation, with the advice of Colonel Pottinger
I set out a third time for the Indus. That officer in the meanwhile
intimated my departure to the Ameer, and pointed out the impossibility
of my proceeding by land to Lahore. He also intimated, in no measured
language, that the vacillating and unfriendly conduct of the Ameer
of Sinde would not pass unnoticed; the more particularly, since
it concerned the passage of gifts, which had been sent by his most
gracious Majesty the King of Great Britain.
~Third voyage to the Indus.~
~Land in Sinde.~
On the 10th of March we once more set sail for the Indus; and
reached the Hujamree, one of the central mouths of the river, after
a prosperous voyage of seven days. We could hire no pilot to conduct
us across the bar, and took the wrong and shallow mouth of the river,
ploughing up the mud as we tacked in its narrow channel. The foremost
vessel loosened her red ensign when she had fairly reached the deep
water; and, with the others, we soon and joyfully anchored near her.
We were now met by an officer of the Sinde Government, one of the
favoured descendants of the Prophet, whose enormous corpulence bespoke
his condition. This personage came to the mouth of the river; for we
were yet refused all admittance to the fresh water. He produced a
letter from the Ameer, and repeated the same refuted arguments of his
master, which he seemed to think should receive credit from his high
rank. It would be tiresome to follow the Sindians through the course of
chicanery which they adopted, even in this stage of the proceedings.
An embargo was laid on all the vessels in the Indus; and we ourselves
were confined to our boats, on a dangerous shore, and even denied fresh
water. The officer urged the propriety of our taking a route by land;
and, as a last resource, I offered to accompany him to the capital, and
converse with the Ameer in person, having previously landed the horses.
I made known this arrangement by a courier, which I despatched to the
Court; and on the following morning quitted the boats, along with Syud
Jeendul Shah, who had been appointed our Mihmandar.[3] No sooner had we
reached Tatta, than the required sanction for the boats to ascend by
the Indus was received, provided we ourselves took the land route; but
I immediately declined to advance another step without my charge; and
ultimately effected, by a week’s negotiation at Tatta, the desired end.
At the expense of being somewhat tedious, I will give an abstract of
these proceedings as a specimen of Sindian policy and reasoning.
~Negotiations at Tatta.~
A few hours after reaching Tatta, Syud Zoolfkar Shah, a man of rank,
and engaging manners, waited on us on the part of the Ameer. He was
accompanied by our Mihmandar, and met us very politely. He said that
he had been sent by his Highness to escort us to Hydrabad; to which
I laconically replied, that nothing would now induce me to go, since
the Ameer had conceded the request which I had made of him. The Syud
here marshalled all his eloquence; asked me if I wished to ruin the
Mihmandar, by making him out a liar, after I had promised to accompany
him to the Court, and he had written so to the Ameer; if I had no
regard for a promise; that the capital was close at hand, and I could
reach it in two marches; that, if I did not now go, it could only be
inferred that I had been practising delusion, from a desire to see
Tatta; for I had even been allowed to choose the route by that city,
contrary to orders; and that I was not, perhaps, aware of the high
character of the Syud, who was a descendant of the holy Prophet, and
honourable in this land; whose dignity, the Christians, who preserved
even the relic of Jesus Christ’s nail, could well understand; and
that it was not the part of a wise man to cavil like a moollah, since
the Ameer had sanctioned the advance of the mission by water, if we
embarked at Hydrabad, and would be answerable for the safety of the
horses to that place; and, finally, that if I persisted in taking the
route by water, he was desired to say that it was a violation of the
treaty between the states.
I heard with attention the arguments of Zoolfkar Shah; nor did I forget
that the praises and respect which he claimed for his friend, as a
descendant of the Prophet, likewise included himself. I replied, that
there had existed a long standing friendship between Sinde and the
British Government; that I had been despatched by a well frequented
route, to deliver the presents of our gracious Sovereign to Runjeet
Sing at Lahore; that, on reaching Sinde, I had been insulted, abused,
starved, and twice turned out of the country by low persons, whom I
named; that my Government, which was ever considerate, had attributed
this unheard-of insolence, not to their _friend_, the Ameer of Sinde,
but to the ignorance of mean individuals, and had despatched me a third
time to Sinde: when I reached it, I found Syud Jeendul Shah ready to
receive me; but although thoroughly satisfied that the presents of
which I was in charge could never be forwarded by land, he offered
me that route, and detained me on board ship for eleven days, till
necessity had driven me to make a proposal of repairing in person to
the presence of the Ameer, in hopes of persuading that personage. The
case was now altered; the water route had been granted, which rendered
my visit to Hydrabad unnecessary; and I could only view the present
procedure in the light of jealousy, which it was unbecoming in a
Government to entertain. I continued, that I had chosen the route by
Tatta, because my bills were payable at that city; and the sooner the
Syud got his master to meet my wishes, the better; for the floods of
the Indus were at hand, the hot season approached, and delay would
increase the hazard; while no arguments but force would now induce
me to visit the Court, or permit the horses to be moved without my
presence. In fine, if it were not the intention of the Ameer to act a
friendly part, he had only to say so, and I would forthwith quit the
country when I received a letter to that effect; and finally, that he
had formed a very erroneous opinion of the British character, if he
considered that I had been sent here in breach of a treaty, for I had
come to strengthen the bonds of union; and, what was further, that the
promise of an officer was sacred.
~Address the Ameer.~
~Success.~
An interview in the following morning, brought a repetition of the
whole arguments; and as we could not convince each other, we both
agreed to address his Highness. After the style of Asiatic diplomacy,
I informed the Ameer, “that he had acted the part of a friend, in
first pointing out the difficulties of navigating the Indus, and now
assisting me through them by giving his sanction to the water route;
but since I was so thoroughly acquainted, through his Highness’s
kindness, with the dangers of the river, I dared not trust such royal
rarities, as the gifts of the King of Great Britain, to the care of any
servant.” In three days I received a full and unqualified sanction to
advance by water from the mouth of the Indus. I gladly quit the detail
of occurrences which have left few pleasing reflections behind, except
that success ultimately attended our endeavours, and that they elicited
the approbation of Government. The Ameer of Sinde had sought to keep
us in ignorance of the Indus; but his treatment had led to another and
opposite effect; since we had entered, in the course of out several
voyages, _all_ the mouths of the river, and a map of them, as well as
of the land route to Tatta, now lay before me. Our dangers on the banks
and shoals had been imminent; but we looked back upon them with the
pleasing thought, that our experience might guide others through them.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Lord Ellenborough, then President of the India Board.
[2] Arrian, lib. vi. c. 19.
[3] An officer who receives a guest.
CHAP. II.
TATTA TO HYDRABAD.
~Tatta.~
A week’s stay was agreeably spent in examining Tatta and the objects
of curiosity which surround it. The city stands at a distance of three
miles from the Indus. It is celebrated in the history of the East.
Its commercial prosperity passed away with the empire of Delhi, and
its ruin has been completed since it fell under the iron despotism
of the present rulers of Sinde. It does not contain a population of
15,000 souls; and of the houses scattered about its ruins, one half
are destitute of inhabitants. It is said, that the dissentions between
the last and present dynasties, which led to Sinde being overrun by
the Afghans, terrified the merchants of the city, who fled the country
at that time, and have had no encouragement to return. Of the weavers
of “loongees” (a kind of silk and cotton manufacture), for which this
place was once so famous, but 125 families remain. There are not forty
merchants[4] in the city. Twenty money-changers transact all the
business of Tatta; and its limited population is now supplied with
animal food by five butchers. Such has been the gradual decay of that
mighty city, so populous in the early part of last century, in the days
of Nadir Shah. The country in its vicinity lies neglected, and but a
small portion of it is brought under tillage.
~Its antiquity.~
The antiquity of Tatta is unquestioned. The Pattala of the Greeks has
been sought for in its position, and, I believe, with good reason;
for the Indus here divides into two great branches; and these are the
words of the historian:--“Near Pattala, the river Indus divides itself
into two vast branches.”[5] Both Robertson and Vincent appear to have
entertained the opinion of its identity with Tatta. The Hindoo Rajas
named it Sameenuggur, before the Mahommedan invasion; which I believe
to be the Minagur of the Periplus. There is a ruined city, called
Kullancote, to be yet seen, four miles S.W. of Tatta. It was also named
Brahminabad, and ruled by one brother, while another held Hydrabad,
then called Nerancote; the Arabs called it Dewul Sindy. Nuggur Tatta
(by which it is now familiarly known) is a more modern name. Till the
Talpoors secured their present footing in Sinde, it was always the
capital of the country. It is an open town, built on a rising ground
in a low valley. In several wells I found bricks imbedded in earth,
at a depth of twenty feet from the surface; but there are no remains
of a prior date to the tombs, on a remarkable ridge westward of the
town, which are about 200 years old. The houses are formed of wood
and wicker-work, plastered over with earth; they are lofty, with flat
roofs, but very confined, and resemble square towers; their colour,
which is of a greyish murky hue, gives an appearance of solidity to
the frail materials of which they are constructed. Some of the better
sort have a base of brickwork; but stone has only been used in the
foundations of one or two mosques, though it may be had in abundance.
There is little in modern Tatta to remind one of its former greatness.
A spacious brick mosque, built by Shah Jehan, still remains, but is
crumbling to decay.
~Hinglaj, a famous pilgrimage.~
Tatta stands on the high road from India to Hinglaj, in Mekran, a place
of pilgrimage and great celebrity, situated under the barren mountains
of Hala (the Irus of the ancients), and marked only by a spring of
fresh water, without house or temple. The spot is believed to have been
visited by Ramchunder, the Hindoo demi-god, himself; an event which
is chronicled on the rock, with figures of the sun and moon engraven
as further testimony! The distance from Tatta exceeds 200 miles; and
the road passes by Curachee, Soumeeanee, and the province of Lus, the
country of the Noomrees, a portion of the route of Alexander the Great.
A journey to Hinglaj purifies the pilgrim from his sins; a cocoa-nut,
cast into a cistern, exhibits the nature of his career: if the water
bubbles up, his life has been, and will continue, pure; but if still
and silent, the Hindoo must undergo further penance, to appease the
deity. The tribe of Goseins, who are a kind of religious mendicants,
though frequently merchants and most wealthy, frequent this sequestered
place, and often extend their journey to an island called Seetadeep,
not far from Bunder Abbass, in Persia. They travel in caravans of an
hundred, or even more, under an “agwa,” or spiritual guide. At Tatta
they are furnished by the high-priest with a rod, which is supposed
to partake of his own virtues, and to conduct the _cortège_ to its
destination. In exchange for its talismanic powers, each pilgrim pays
three rupees and a half, and faithfully promises to restore the rod on
his return; for no one dares to reside in so holy and solitary a spot.
The “agwa” receives with it his reward; and many a Hindoo expends in
this pilgrimage the hard-earned wealth of a whole life. On his arrival
at Tatta from Hinglaj, he is invested with a string of white beads,
peculiar to that city, and only found on the rocky ridge near it.
They resemble the grains of pulse or juwaree; and the pilgrim has the
satisfaction of believing that they are the petrified grain of the
Creator, left on earth to remind him of his creation. They now form a
monopoly and source of profit to the priests of Tatta.
~Climate. Return to the mouth of the Indus.~
We quitted Tatta on the morning of the 10th of April, and retraced our
steps to Meerpoor; a distance of twenty-four miles, over roads nearly
impassable from rain. I observe, in Hamilton’s “India,” that there is
frequently a dearth of it here for three years at a time; but we had
very heavy showers and a severe fall of hail, though the thermometer
stood at 86°. The dews and mists about Tatta make it a disagreeable
residence at this season; and the dust is described as intolerable in
June and July.
Our road lay through a desert country along the “Buggaur;” one of the
two large branches of the Indus, which separate below Tatta. It has
its name from the destructive velocity with which it runs, tearing up
trees in its course. It has been forsaken for a few years past, and
had only a width of 200 yards where we crossed it, below Meerpoor. The
Indus itself, before this division takes place, is a noble river; and
we beheld it at Tatta with high gratification. The water is foul and
muddy; but it is 2000 feet wide, two fathoms and a half deep, from
shore to shore. When I first saw it, the surface was agitated by a
violent wind, which had raised up waves, that raged with great fury;
and I no longer felt wonder at the natives designating so vast a river
by the name of “durya,” or the Sea of Sinde.
~Notions of the people.~
On our return, we saw much of the people, who were disposed from the
first to treat us more kindly than the government. Their notions
regarding us were strange: some asked us why we allowed dogs to clean
our hands after a meal, and if we indiscriminately ate cats and mice,
as well as pigs. They complained much of their rulers, and the ruinous
and oppressive system of taxation to which they were subjected, as
it deterred them from cultivating any considerable portion of land.
Immense tracts of the richest soil lie in a state of nature, between
Tatta and the sea, overgrown with tamarisk shrubs, which attain,
in some places, the height of twenty feet, and, threading into one
another, form impervious thickets. At other places, we passed extensive
plains of hard-caked clay, with remains of ditches and aqueducts, now
neglected. We reached the sea in two days.
~Alexander’s journey.~
Arrian informs us, that, after Alexander returned from viewing the
right branch of the Indus, he again set out from Pattala, and descended
the other branch of the river, which conducted him to a “certain lake,
joined either by the river spreading wide over a flat country, or
by additional streams flowing into it from the adjacent parts, and
making it appear like a bay in the sea.” There, too, he commanded
another haven to be built, named Xylenopolis. The professed object of
this second voyage to the sea was to seek for bays and creeks on the
sea-coast, and to explore which of the two branches would afford the
greatest facilities for the passage of his fleet; for Arrian says,
“he had a vast ambition of sailing all through the sea, from India to
Persia, to prove that the Indian Gulf had a communication with the
Persian.” In this bay Alexander landed, with a party of horse, and
travelled along the coast, to try if he could find bays and creeks to
secure his fleets from storms; “_causing wells to be dug, to supply
his navy with water_.” I look upon it, therefore, as conclusive that
Alexander the Great descended by the Buggaur and Sata, the two great
branches below Tatta, and never entered Cutch, as has been surmised,
but that his three days’ journey, after descending the eastern branch,
was westward, and between the two mouths, in the direction his fleet
was to sail.
~Embark on the Indus. Boats.~
On the 12th of April, we embarked in the flat-bottomed boats, or
“doondees,” of Sinde, and commenced our voyage on the Indus, with no
small degree of satisfaction. Our fleet consisted of six of these
flat-bottomed vessels, and a small English-built pinnace, which we
had brought from Cutch. The boats of the Indus are not unlike China
junks, very capacious, but most unwieldy. They are floating houses; and
with ourselves we transported the boatmen, their wives and families,
kids and fowls. When there is no wind, they are pulled up against the
stream, by ropes attached to the mast-head, at the rate of a mile and
a half an hour; but with a breeze, they set a large square-sail, and
advance double the distance. We halted at Vikkur, which is the first
port; a place of considerable export for grain, that had then fifty
“doondees,” besides sea-vessels, lying near it.
~Wanyanee branch.~
On the 13th, we threaded many small creeks for a distance of eight
miles, and then entered the Wanyanee, or principal branch of the Indus,
which is a fine river, 500 yards broad and 24 feet deep. Its banks were
alternately steep and flat, the course very crooked, and the different
turnings were often marked by branches running from this trunk to other
arms of the delta. We had nothing but tamarisk on either bank, and the
reed huts of a few fishermen, alone indicated that we were in a peopled
country.
~A holy man.~
As we ascended the river, the inhabitants came for miles around to see
us. A Syud stood on the water’s edge, and gazed with astonishment. He
turned to his companion as we passed, and, in the hearing of one of our
party, said, “Alas! Sinde is now gone, since the English have seen the
river, which is the road to its conquest.” If such an event do happen,
I am certain that the body of the people will hail the happy day; but
it will be an evil one for the Syuds, the descendants of Mahommed, who
are the only people, besides the rulers, that derive precedence and
profit from the existing order of things.
~Strictness of religious observances.~
Nothing more arrests the notice of a stranger, on entering Sinde,
than the severe attention of the people to the forms of religion, as
enjoined by the Prophet of Arabia. In all places, the meanest and
poorest of mankind may be seen, at the appointed hours, turned towards
Mecca, offering up their prayers. I have observed a boatman quit the
laborious duty of dragging the vessel against the stream, and retire to
the shore, wet and covered with mud, to perform his genuflexions. In
the smallest villages, the sound of the “mowuzzun,” or crier, summoning
true believers to prayers, may be heard, and the Mahommedans within
reach of the sonorous sound suspend, for the moment, their employment,
that they may add their “Amen” to the solemn sentence when concluded.
The effect is pleasing and impressive; but, as has often happened in
other countries at a like stage of civilisation, the moral qualities of
the people do not keep pace with this fervency of devotion.
~Navigation of the Indus.~
On the evening of the 15th, we anchored at Tatta, after a prosperous
voyage, that afforded a good insight into the navigation of the Indus;
which, in the Delta, is both dangerous and difficult. The water runs
with impetuosity from one bank to another, and undermines them so, that
they often fall in masses which would crush a vessel. During night
they may be heard tumbling with a terrific crash and a noise as loud
as artillery. In one place, the sweep of the river was so sudden that
it had formed a kind of whirlpool, and all our vessels heeled round,
on passing it, from the rapidity of the current. We had every where
six fathoms of water, and in these eddies the depth was sometimes
threefold; but our vessels avoided the strength of the current, and
shifted from side to side, to choose the shallows.
~Pulla fish.~
We ascended the Indus in the season of the “pulla,” a fish of the carp
species, as large as the mackerel, and fully equalling the flavour
of salmon. It is only found in the four months that precede the
swell of the river from January to April, and never higher than the
fortress of Bukkur. The natives superstitiously believe the fish to
proceed there on account of Khaju Khizr, a saint of celebrity, who
is interred there, from whence they are said to return without ever
turning their tails on the sanctified spot,--an assertion which the
muddy colour of the Indus will prevent being contradicted. The mode
of catching this fish is ingenious, and peculiar, I believe, to the
Indus. Each fisherman is provided with a large earthen jar, open at
the top, and somewhat flat. On this he places himself, and, lying on
it horizontally, launches into the stream, swimming or pushing forward
like a frog, and guiding himself with his hands. When he has reached
the middle of the river, where the current is strongest, he darts
his net directly under him, and sails down with the stream. The net
consists of a pouch attached to a pole, which he shuts on meeting his
game; he then draws it up, spears it, and, putting it into the vessel
on which he floats, prosecutes his occupation. There are some vessels
of small dimensions, without any orifice, and on these the fishermen
sail down, in a sitting posture. Hundreds of people, old and young, may
be seen engaged in catching pulla, and the season is hailed with joy
by the people, as furnishing a wholesome food while it lasts, and an
abundant supply of dry fish for the remaining part of the year, as well
as for exportation to the neighbouring countries.
~Reach the capital.~
On the morning of the 18th, we moored opposite Hydrabad, which is five
miles inland, having had a strong and favourable breeze from Tatta,
that brought us against the stream, at the rate of three miles an hour.
The dust was intolerable every where, and a village might always be
discovered by the dense clouds which hovered over it. This part of
Sinde is well known: the country is devoted to sterility by the Ameers,
to feed their passion for the chase. The banks are enclosed to the
water’s edge, and the interior of these hunting-thickets is overgrown
with furze, brushwood, and stunted babool trees, which always retain a
verdant hue, from the richness of the soil. One or two solitary camels
were to be seen raising water to fill the pools of these preserves,
as the Ameer and his relatives had announced a hunting excursion, and
the deer[6] would be drawn by thirst to drink at the only fountain,
and shot by an Ameer from a place of concealment. It is thus that the
chiefs sport with their game and their subjects.
~Deputation from the Ameer.~
Immediately on our arrival, four different deputations waited on us,
to convey the congratulations of Meer Moorad Ali Khan, and his family,
at our having reached the capital of Sinde, and at the same time to
tender the strongest professions of friendship and respect for the
British government; to all of which I returned suitable answers. In
the evening we were conducted to Hydrabad, and alighted at the house,
or “tanda,” of Nawab Wulee Mahommed Khan, the Vizier of Sinde, whose
son, in the father’s absence, was appointed our mihmandar. Tents were
pitched, and provisions of every description sent to us; and it would,
indeed, have been difficult to discover that we were the individuals
who had so long lingered about the shores of Sinde, now the honoured
guests of its jealous master. Great and small were in attendance on us:
khans and Syuds, servants and chobdars brought messages and enquiries,
till the night was far spent; and it may not be amiss to mention,
as a specimen of conducting business in Sinde, that the barber, the
water-cooler, and the prime minister were sent indiscriminately with
errands on the same subject.
~Preparations for reception at court.~
The ceremonial of our reception was soon adjusted, but not without
some exhibition of Sindian character. After the time had been mutually
fixed for the following afternoon, our mihmandar made his appearance at
_daybreak_, to request that we would then accompany him to the palace.
I spoke of the arrangements that had been made; but he treated all
explanation with indifference, and eulogised, in extravagant language,
the great condescension of his master in giving us an interview so
early, while the Vakeels, or representatives of other states, often
waited for weeks. I informed the Khan that I entertained very different
sentiments regarding his master’s giving us so early a reception, and
assured him that I viewed it as no sort of favour, and was satisfied
that the Ameer himself was proud in receiving, at any time, any agent
of the British Government. The reply silenced him, and he shortly
afterwards withdrew, and sent an apology for this importunity, which,
he stated, had originated in a mistake. The pride of the Sindian must
be met by the same weapons; and, however disagreeable the line of
conduct, it will be found, in all matters of negotiation, to carry
along with it its own reward: altercations that have passed will be
succeeded by civility and politeness, and a shade of oblivion will be
cast over all that is unpleasant.
~Presentation.~
In the evening we were presented to the Ameer of Sinde by his son,
Nusseer Khan, who had previously received us in his own apartments, to
inform us of his attachment to the British Government, and the state
secret of his having been the means of procuring for us a passage
through Sinde. We found the Ameer seated in the middle of a room,
attended by his various relatives: they all rose on our entrance, and
were studiously polite. His Highness addressed me by name; said I was
his friend, both on public and private grounds; for my brother (Dr.
Burnes) had cured him of a dangerous disease. At the same time he
caused me to be seated along with him on the cushion which he occupied:
he begged that I would forget the difficulties and dangers encountered,
and consider him as the ally of the British Government, and my own
friend. The long detention which had occurred in our advance, he
continued, had arisen from his ignorance of political concerns, as he
considered it involved a breach of the treaty between the states; for
he was a soldier, and knew little of such matters, and was employed in
commanding _the three hundred thousand Beloochees_, over whom God had
appointed him to rule! We had now, however, arrived at his capital, and
he assured us that we were welcome: his own state barge should convey
us to his frontier; his subjects should drag our vessels against the
stream. Elephants and palanqueens were at our disposal, if we would
accept them; and he would vie in exertion with ourselves, to forward,
in safety, the presents of his Most Gracious Majesty the King of Great
Britain, and had nominated the son of his Vizier to accompany us to
the limits of his territories. I did not deem it necessary to enter
into any explanation with his Highness, nor to give him in return
the muster-roll of our mighty army. I thanked him for his marks of
attention to the Government and ourselves, and said, that I was glad
to find that the friendship between the states, which had led to my
taking the route through his dominions, had not been underrated; for
it would be worse than folly in an unprotected individual to attempt
a passage by the Indus without his cordial concurrence. With regard
to the dangers and difficulties which had been already encountered, I
assured his Highness, that the prevailing good fortune of the British
Government had predominated; and though it was not in the power of man
to avert calamities by sea, we had by the favour of God happily escaped
them all, and I doubted not that the authorities I served would derive
as much satisfaction from the manner in which he had now received us as
I myself did. The interview here terminated; his Highness previously
fixing the following morning for a second meeting, when I would
communicate some matters of a political nature with which I had been
charged by the Government.
~Court of Sinde.~
I shall not enter on a description of the Court of Sinde, as it may
be found in Lieut. Col. Pottinger’s work, and in a narrative lately
published by my brother.[7] Its splendour must have faded, for though
the Ameer and his family certainly wore some superb jewels, there was
not much to attract our notice in their palace or durbar: they met in
a dirty hall without a carpet; they sat in a room which was filled by
a rabble of greasy soldiery, and the noise and dust were hardly to be
endured. The orders of the Ameer himself to procure silence, though
repeated several times, were ineffectual, and some of the conversation
was inaudible on that account. We were, however, informed that the
crowd had been collected to display the legions of Sinde; and they
certainly contrived to fill the alleys and passages every where, not
could we pass out of the fort without some exertion on the part of the
nobles, who were our conductors.
~Presents.~
~Sindian meanness.~
I followed up the interview by sending the government presents which
I had brought for his Highness: they consisted of various articles
of European manufacture,--a gun, a brace of pistols, a gold watch,
two telescopes, a clock, some English shawls and cloths, with two
pair of elegant cut glass candlesticks and shades. Some Persian works
beautifully lithographed in Bombay, and a map of the World and
Hindoostan, in Persian characters, completed the gift. The principal
Ameer had previously sent two messages, begging that I would not give
the articles to any person but himself; and the possessor of fifteen
millions sterling portioned, with a partial hand, among the members of
his family, the gifts that did not exceed the value of a few hundred
pounds. His meanness may be imagined, when he privately deputed his
Vizier to beg that I would exchange the clock and candlesticks for some
articles among the presents, which I doubtless had for other chiefs,
as they formed no part of the furniture of a Sindian palace. I told
the Vizier that the presents which I had brought were intended to
display the manufactures of Europe, and it was not customary to give
the property of one person to another. This denial produced a second
message; and, as a similar occurrence happened, in 1809, to a mission
at this court, we gather from the coincidence how little spirit and
feeling actuate the cabinet of Hydrabad. Some score of trays, loaded
with fruit and sweetmeats adorned with gold-leaf, and sent by the
different members of the family, closed the day.
~Parting interview.~
Early in the morning, we were conducted to the durbar by Meer Ismaeel
Shah, one of the Viziers, and our mihmandar: on the road the
Vizier took occasion to assure me how much I would please the Ameer
by changing the clock! There was more order and regularity in our
second interview, which was altogether very satisfactory; for the
Ameer gave a ready assent to the wishes of Government when they were
communicated to him. The conversation which ensued was of the most
friendly description. His Highness asked particularly for my brother,
looked attentively at our dress, and was much amused with the shape
and feather of the cocked hat I wore. Before bidding him adieu, he
repeated, in even stronger language, all his yesterday’s professions;
and, however questionable his sincerity, I took my departure with
much satisfaction at what had passed, since it seemed he would no
longer interrupt our advance to Lahore. Meer Nusseer Khan, the son of
the Ameer, presented me with a handsome Damascus sword, which had a
scabbard of red velvet ornamented with gold; his father sent me a purse
of fifteen hundred rupees, with an apology, that he had not a blade
mounted as he desired, and begged I would accept the value of one.
After all the inconvenience to which we had been subjected, we hardly
expected such a reception at Hydrabad. Next morning we left the city,
and encamped on the banks of the Indus near our boats.
~Scenery near Hydrabad.~
The scenery near the capital of Sinde is varied and beautiful:
the sides of the river are lined with lofty trees; and there is a
background of hill to relieve the eye from the monotony which presents
itself in the dusty arid plains of the Delta. The Indus is larger, too,
than in most places lower down, being about 830 yards wide; there is a
sand-bank in the middle, but it is hidden by the stream. The island on
which Hydrabad stands is barren, from the rocky and hilly nature of the
soil, but even the arable parts are poorly cultivated.
~Hydrabad.~
On the capital itself, I can add little to the accounts which are
already on record. It does not contain a population of twenty thousand
souls, who live in houses, or rather huts, built of mud. The residence
of the chief himself is a comfortless miserable dwelling. The fort,
as well as the town, stands on a rocky hillock; and the former is a
mere shell, partly surrounded by a ditch, about ten feet wide and
eight deep, over which there is a wooden bridge. The walls are about
twenty-five feet high, built of brick, and fast going to decay.
Hydrabad is a place of no strength, and might readily be captured
by escalade. In the centre of the fort there is a massive tower,
unconnected with the works, which overlooks the surrounding country.
Here are deposited a great portion of the riches of Sinde. The
Fulailee river insulates the ground on which Hydrabad stands; but,
though a considerable stream during the swell, it was quite dry when
we visited this city in April. The view of Hydrabad, prefixed to this
volume, and for which I am indebted to Captain M. Grindlay, faithfully
represents that capital and the country which surrounds it.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] Banians.
[5] Arrian, lib. 6.
[6] The species hunted in Sinde is called “hotapuchu:” it is a kind of
hog deer.
[7] Narrative of a Visit to the Court of Sinde. Edin. 1831.
CHAP. III.
VOYAGE TO BUKKUR.
~Departure from Hydrabad.~
On the morning of the 23d of April, we embarked in the state barge of
the Ameer, which is called a “jumtee” by the natives of the country.
They are very commodious vessels, of the same build as the other
flat-bottomed boats of the Indus, and sadly gainsayed the beggarly
account which his Highness had, in his correspondence, so often given
of the craft in the river. It was about sixty feet long, and had three
masts, on which we hoisted as many sails, made of alternate stripes of
red and white cloth. There were two cabins, connected with each other
by a deck; but, contrary to the custom in other countries, the one at
the bows is the post of honour. It was of a pavilion shape, covered
with scarlet cloth, and the eyes of intruders were excluded on all
sides by silken screens. The jumtee was further decorated by variegated
flags and pendants, some of which were forty feet long. We hoisted the
British ensign at the stern of our pinnace, the first time, I suppose,
it had ever been unfurled on the Indus; and the little vessel which
bore it out-sailed all the fleet. I hope the omen was auspicious, and
that the commerce of Britain may soon follow her flag. We moved merrily
through the water, generally with a fair wind, anchoring always at
night, and pitching our camp on the shore, pleased to find ourselves
beyond the portals of Hydrabad.
~Sehwun.~
We reached Sehwun on the 1st of May, a distance of 100 miles, in eight
days. There was little to interest us on the banks of the river, which
are thinly peopled, and destitute of trees or variety to diversify the
scene. The Lukkee mountains, a high range, came in sight on the third
day, running in upon the Indus at Sehwun. The stream itself, though
grand and magnificent, was often divided by sand-banks, and moved
sluggishly along at the rate of two miles and a half an hour. One of
our boats had nearly sunk from coming in contact with a protruding
stump; an accident of frequent occurrence on the Indus, as well as
on the American rivers, and sometimes attended with fatal results,
particularly to vessels descending the stream. Our escape from calamity
gave the Sindians a topic for congratulation, and we daily heard the
greatness of our fortune proclaimed. Every trivial incident, a slight
breeze or any such occurrence, they did not hesitate to ascribe to our
destiny.
~Crew of the boat.~
Our crew consisted of sixteen men; and a happy set of beings they were:
they waded through the water all day, and swam and sported about, as
they passed along, with joyous hearts, returning occasionally to the
boat to indulge in the hooka, and the intoxicating “bang,” or hemp, to
which they are much addicted. They prepare this drug by straining the
juice from the seeds and stalks through a cloth: when ready for use,
it resembles green putrid water. It must be very pernicious. I do not
know if I can class their pipes among the movables of the ship; for
their stands were formed of a huge piece of earthenware, too heavy to
be lifted, which remains at the stern, where the individuals retire to
inhale the weed, made doubly noxious by its being mixed with opium.
The sailors of Sinde are Mahommedans. They are very superstitious, the
sight of a crocodile below Hydrabad is an evil omen which would never
be forgotten; and in that part of the Indus these monsters certainly
confined themselves to the deep.
~A Sindian song.~
In the songs and chorus which the Sindians use in pulling their ropes
and sails, we discover their reverence for saints. Seafaring people
are, I believe, musical in all countries; and, though in a strange
dialect, there is simplicity and beauty in some of the following
rhymes:--
_Original._
Hulam hulam hyl, Joomba lanee,
Leenlanee, Hewa qila,
Mudud peeran. Dawa fuqueeran
Dawa jee nalee. Beree chale:
Beree ranee, Surung sookhanee.
Oono panee, ------------
Lumba kooa, Sulamut hooa,
Wujun dumana Acbar Shah ja.