CHAPTER V.

~Voyage in the Seik country.~

By the 12th of June, our preparations for the voyage were completed,

and we again embarked on the Chenab. The boats here were of a very

inferior description, still called “zohruq;” they had no sails, and

hoist a mat on a low mast instead; their waists are scarcely a foot

above water, and those which they could collect for us, were but the

different ferry boats of the river. There is no trade carried on by

water in this country, and there are in consequence no boats. A sail

of a few hours brought us to the ferry opposite Shoojuabad, where we

halted. The country is of the richest and most fertile description, and

its agricultural resources are much increased, by conducting water to

the remoter parts, in large canals and aqueducts.

~Shoojuabad.~

In the evening of the 13th we visited the town of Shoojuabad, which

stands four miles eastward of the river. It is a thriving place,

surrounded by a fine wall of brick, about thirty feet high. The figure

of the place is that of an oblong square, and the wall is strengthened

by octagonal towers, at equal distances. The interior is filled

up with houses, which are built in streets, at right angles to one

another; and a suburb of huts surrounds the walls. Shoojuabad fort

was built by the Nuwab of Mooltan in the year 1808, and the public

spirit of that person raised it, in the course of ten years, to great

opulence. It is situated in a most beautiful country, and is watered

by two spacious canals for many miles, both above and below the town.

It was captured by the Seiks, along with Mooltan, and now forms

the frontier fortress of the Lahore chief. We were accompanied to

Shoojuabad by our Mihmandar, who appeared in state for the occasion; he

sat on an elephant in a chair of silver,--two horses were led before

him, with saddles of red and yellow velvet,--his bow and quiver were

borne by one menial, and his sword by another; while he himself was

decorated with precious jewels. At the palace of the town, we were met

by many of the respectable inhabitants, before whom the “zyafut,” or

money gift, and sweetmeats of the Maharajah, were presented to us. We

afterwards were conducted through the principal street, and welcomed

in a gratifying manner, wherever we went. On quitting the fortress the

garrison fired a salute.

~Mooltan.~

On the 15th we came in sight of the domes of Mooltan, which look well

at a distance; and alighted in the evening at the Hoozooree Bagh, a

spacious garden enclosed by a thin wall of mud, a mile distant from the

city. The ground is laid out in the usual native style; two spacious

walks crossed each other at right angles, and are shaded by large

fruit trees, of the richest foliage. In a bungalow, at the end of one

of these walks, we took up our quarters, and were received by the

authorities of the city in the same hospitable manner as at Shoojuabad.

They brought a purse of 2500 rupees, with 100 vessels of sweetmeats,

and an abundant supply of fruit: we felt happy and gratified at the

change of scene, and civilities of the people.

The city of Mooltan, is described in Mr. Elphinstone’s work on Cabool,

and it may appear foreign to my purpose to mention it; but his mission

was received here with great jealousy, and not permitted to view the

interior of the town, or the fort. I do not hesitate, therefore, to

add the following particulars, drawn up after a week’s residence. The

city of Mooltan is upwards of three miles in circumference, surrounded

by a dilapidated wall, and overlooked on the north by a fortress of

strength. It contains a population of about 60,000 souls, one third

of whom may be Hindoos; the rest of the population is Mahommedan, for

though it is subject to the Seiks, their number is confined to the

garrison, which does not exceed 500 men. The Afghans have left the

country, since they ceased to govern. Many of the houses evidently

stand on the ruins of others: they are built of burnt brick, and

have flat roofs: they sometimes rise to the height of six stories,

and their loftiness gives a gloomy appearance to the narrow streets.

The inhabitants are chiefly weavers and dyers of cloth. The silk

manufacture of Mooltan is called “kais,” and may be had of all colours,

and from the value of 20 to 120 rupees: it is less delicate in texture

than the “loongees” of Bhawulpoor. Runjeet Sing has with much propriety

encouraged their manufacture, since he captured the city; and by giving

no other cloths at his court, has greatly increased their consumption,

and they are worn as sashes and scarfs by all the Seik Sirdars. They

are also exported to Khorasan and India, and the duties levied are

moderate. To the latter country, the route by Jaysulmeer and Beecaneer

is chosen in preference to that by Sinde, from the trade being on a

more equitable footing. The trade of Mooltan is much the same as at

Bhawulpoor, but is on a larger scale, for it has forty Shroffs, (money

changers) chiefly natives of Shikarpoor. The tombs of Mooltan are

celebrated: one of them, that of Bawulhuq, who flourished upwards of

500 years ago, and was a contemporary of Sadee the Persian poet, is

considered very holy; but its architecture is surpassed by that of his

grandson, Rookn-i-Allum, who reposes under a massy dome sixty feet in

height, which was erected in the year 1323, by the Emperor Tooghluck,

as his own tomb. Its foundation stands on higher ground than the summit

of the fort wall; there is also a Hindoo temple of high antiquity,

called Pyladpooree; mentioned by Thevenot in 1665.

~Fort of Mooltan.~

The fortress of Mooltan merits a more particular description; it stands

on a mound of earth, and is an irregular figure of six sides, the

longest of which (towards the north-west) extends for about 400 yards.

The wall has upwards of thirty towers, and is substantially built of

burnt brick, to the height of forty feet outside; but in the interior,

the space between the ground and its summit does not exceed four or

five feet, and the foundations of some of the buildings overtop the

wall, and are to be seen from the plain below. The interior is filled

with houses, and till its capture by the Seiks in 1818, was peopled,

but the inhabitants are not now permitted to enter, and a few mosques

and cupolas, more substantially built than the other houses, alone

remain among the ruins. The fortress of Mooltan has no ditch; the

nature of the country will not admit of one being constructed; and

Runjeet Sing has hitherto expended great sums without effect. The

inundation of the Chenab, and its canals, together with rain, render

the vicinity of Mooltan a marsh, even in the hot weather, and before

the swell of the river has properly set in, the waters of last year

remain. The walls of the fortress are protected in two places by dams

of earth; the modern fort of Mooltan was built on the site of the old

city, by Moorad Bukhsh, the son of Shah Jehan, about the year 1640,

and it subsequently formed the Jagheer of that prince’s brothers, the

unfortunate Daro Shikoh, and the renowned Aurungzebe. The Afghans

seized it in the time of Ahmed Shah, and the Seiks wrested it from the

Afghans, after many struggles, in 1818. The conduct of its governor

during the siege, deserves mention; when called on to surrender the

keys, and offered considerate treatment, he sent for reply, that they

would be found in his heart, but he would never yield to an infidel;

he perished bravely in the breach. His name, Moozuffur Khan, is now

revered as a saint, and his tomb is placed in one of the holiest

sanctuaries of Mooltan. The Seiks threw down the walls of the fort in

many places, but they have since been thoroughly renewed or repaired;

they are about six feet thick, and could be easily breached from the

mounds that have been left in baking the bricks, which are within

cannon range of the walls.

~Antiquity of Mooltan supposed Capital of the Malli.~

Mooltan is one of the most ancient cities in India. We read of its

capture by Mahommed-bin-Cassim, in the first century of the Hejira,

and its wealth afterwards attracted the Ghiznian, Ghorian, and Moghul

emperors of Hindoostan. But we have little reason to doubt its being

the capital of the Malli of Alexander: Major Rennell has supposed

that metropolis to have been higher up, and nearer the banks of the

Ravee, because Arrian states, that the inhabitants fled across that

river. This is high authority, but Mooltan is styled “Malli than,” or

“Malitharun” the place of the Malli, to this day, and we have no ruins

near Tolumba, the site pointed at by Rennell to fix on as the supposed

capital. It is expressly stated that Alexander crossed the Ravee,

and after capturing two towns, led his forces to the capital city of

the Malli. As the distance from the river is but thirty miles, and

Mooltan is considered a place of high antiquity, I do not see why we

should forsake the modern capital when in search of the ancient: had

we not the earliest assurances of the age of Mooltan, its appearance

would alone indicate it. The houses are piled upon ruins, and the town

stands on a mound of clay, the materials of former habitations which

have gradually crumbled, an infallible proof of antiquity, as I have

remarked of Tatta and Ooch. The late Nawab of Mooltan, in sinking a

well in the city, found a war drum, at a depth of sixty feet from

the surface; and several other articles have been from time to time

collected, but no coins have been hitherto seen. Mooltan may, in some

degree, be considered to answer the description of the Brahmin city

and its castle, which Alexander captured, before attacking the capital

of the Malli; but in that case, we should have no site to fix on as

the capital. The manufactures of Mooltan and Bhawulpoor, the “kais”

and “loungee,” seem to assist in fixing the country of the Malli,

for Quintus Curtius informs us that the ambassadors of the Malli and

Oxydracæ (Mooltan and Ooch) “wore garments of cotton, lawn or muslin

(lineæ vestes), interwoven with gold, and adorned with purple,” and we

may safely translate “lineæ vestes,” into the stuffs of Mooltan and

Bhawulpoor, which are interwoven with gold, and most frequently of a

purple colour.

~Buildings of Mooltan. Superstitions.~

During our stay at Mooltan, we were freely conducted to view the lions

of this decayed Viceroyalty of the Mogul empire. In the interior of the

fort there is the Hindoo temple, before alluded to, which its votaries

believe to be of boundless antiquity, and with it couple the following

tradition. One Hurnakus, a giant, despised God, and worshipped himself;

he desired his son Pylad to follow his steps, and was about to murder

him for his contumacy, when the youth was miraculously saved by an

incarnation of the Deity, who appeared in a shape of half lion and man.

Hurnakus had given out that his death could never be effected in earth

or air, in fire or water, by sword or bow, by night or day; and it

happened without an infringement of these conditions, for Nursingavater

(the name of the incarnation) seized him at dusk, and placing him on

his knee, tore Hurnakus to pieces, and took his son under protection.

This Hindoo temple, which goes by the name of Pyladpooree, is a low

building, supported by wooden pillars, with the idols Hooneeman and

Guneesa as guardians to its portal. It is the only place of Hindoo

worship in Mooltan; we were denied entrance to it.

There is a shrine of some celebrity, near the walls of Mooltan,

where rest the remains of Shumsi-Tabreezee, a saint from Bagdad, who

is believed to have performed many miracles, and even raised the

dead. This worthy, as the story is told, was flayed alive for his

pretensions. He had long begged his bread in the city, and in his

hunger caught a fish, which he held up to the sun, and brought that

luminary near enough to roast it; this established his memory and

equivocal fame on a firmer basis. The natives to this day attribute the

heat of Mooltan, which is proverbial, to this incident.

~Reflections.~

In the ready belief which the inhabitants of Mooltan grant to such

absurdities, we see little to exalt them in the scale of reasonable

beings; but it seems inherent in the people to propagate and uphold

such delusions, for there are tales equally improbable regarding every

tomb in the city. Rookn-i-alum, the son of Bhawul Huq, removed to his

present sepulchre when dead.

~Religion of the Seiks.~

At Mooltan we first saw the practice of religion amongst the Seiks.

In a veranda of the tomb of Shumsi-Tabreezee, a “Gooroo,” or priest

of that persuasion, had taken up his abode since the conquest of the

city. We found him seated on the ground, with a huge volume in front of

him; and a place covered with cloth, like an altar, at one end of the

apartment: he opened the book at my request, and repeating the words

“wa gooroojee ka futteh,”[11] touched the volume with his forehead,

and all the Seiks in attendance immediately bowed to the ground: he

then read and explained the first passage that he turned up, which was

as follows--“All of you have sinned; endeavour therefore to purify

yourselves: if you neglect the caution, evil will at last overtake

you.” I need hardly mention that the volume was the “Grinth,” or holy

book of the Seiks: their reverence for it amounts to veneration, and

the priest waves a “_choury_,” or a Tibet cow’s tail, over it, as if he

were fanning an emperor. The Gooroo was free from pomp and pride, and

gave a willing explanation to our enquiries: he opened his holy book

to acknowledge the gift of a few rupees, that I made in due form, and

requested my acceptance of some confections in return.

~Intolerance.~

The presence of a Seik priest, and the paraphernalia of his order,

under the roof of a Mahommedan tomb, will furnish a good commentary on

the state of that religion in this country; it is barely tolerated. In

this city, which held for upwards of 800 years, so high a Mahommedan

supremacy, there is now no public “_numaz_;” the true believer dare not

lift his voice in public. The “_Eeds_” and the Mohurum pass without the

usual observances; the “_Ullaho Acbar_” of the priest is never heard;

the mosques are yet frequented, but the pious are reduced to offering

up their orisons in silence. Such has been the state of things since

Mooltan fell, in 1818, and yet the number of Seiks is confined to that

of the garrison, from four to five hundred men. The Mahommedans,

who amount to about 40,000 souls, suffer no other inconvenience from

their new masters, who afford every protection to their trade. The

Seiks excuse themselves, by alleging, that they have not inflicted,

in retribution, one fourth of their own sufferings at the hands of

the Mahommedans. They are, I believe, correct in the averment, but

religious persecution, is always revolting, and exercises a baneful

influence in every age and country.

~Climate.~

The climate of Mooltan differs from that of the countries lower down

the Indus; showers of rain are common at all seasons, and yet the dust

is intolerable. For nine successive evenings, we had a tornado of it

from the westward, with lightning, and distant thunder. Such storms are

said to be frequent; they appear to set in from the Sooliman mountains,

between which and the Indus the sand or dust is raised. The heat and

dust of Mooltan have grown into a proverb, to which have been added,

not unmeritedly, the prevalence of beggars, and the number of the

tombs, in the following Persian couplet:--

“Chuhar cheez hust, toohfujat-i-Mooltan.

Gird, guda, gurma wu goristan.”

As far as I could judge, the satire is just: the dust darkened the sun:

the thermometer rose in June to 100° of Fahrenheit, in a bungalow

artificially cooled: the beggars hunted us every where; and we trod on

the cemeteries of the dead, in whatever direction we rode.

The country around Mooltan is highly cultivated; the Acesines sends

the water of its inundation to the very walls of the city, and there

is a large canal, that extends it, at other seasons, through Mooltan

itself. The plain that intervenes between the river and city has the

appearance of a rich meadow, and is overgrown with date trees, which

form here a productive source of revenue. It is a popular belief in

the country, that this tree was introduced from Arabia by the army

of Mahommed-bin-Cassim, who brought the fruit as a provision for his

army. It is a curious fact that they are principally found in the track

of that invader, who marched from Alore to Mooltan. If the tradition

be true, the destroying Moslem compensated in some degree for the

evils and scourge of his inroad. There are many ruined hamlets around

Mooltan, the remains of Jagheers, held by the Afghans, but though these

are deserted their inhabitants have only changed their residence, and

occupy houses in the city.

We removed our camp on the 20th to the banks of the Acesines, which

is four miles distant. The river is about 650 yards wide, but at the

ferry itself, it is expanded to 1000 at this season. We here found ten

boats, laden with mineral salt, from Pind Dadun Khan; they exceeded

eighty feet in length. These boats drop down to Mooltan in twelve days,

from the mines, when fully laden.

~Quit Mooltan.~

~Desert.~

We embarked on the 21st of June, on a boat which the Maharajah had

fitted up for our reception with two wooden bungalows; and, along with

the rest of our fleet, prosecuted our voyage. We did not again exchange

our boats, in the way to Lahore. On quitting the ferry at Mooltan,

we came in sight of the desert that lies between the Chenab and the

Indus. It does not commence so low as Ooch, as has been represented in

our maps, but near the latitude of Mooltan, and runs parallel with the

river, at a distance of about two miles, leaving a stripe of cultivated

land. The sand-hills resemble those of the sea shore, and have a scanty

covering of bushes, I cannot call it verdure: they do not exceed twenty

feet in elevation, but from refraction often appeared much higher.

There is a great contrast between the sterile tract, and the champaign

plains of the eastern bank, which we found every where irrigated. The

villages lie at a distance of about two miles from the river, and have

their fields fertilised from canals, by the Persian wheel. On the banks

of the Indus, wells are common, but on the Chenab they are only to be

seen on the verge of canals that branch from it.

~Peeloo.~

There is a shrub called “peeloo[12],” which is to be found in this

neighbourhood, and in all tracts of saline soil that border on the

Indus and Punjab Rivers. It produces a red and white berry, which has

but a poor flavour; the taste of its seeds resembles watercresses: this

is the season of the fruit, and it was exposed for sale in the bazars

of Mooltan. I observed this shrub in greatest abundance in the delta,

and lower parts of Sinde; and, as I am satisfied that it is only to be

found in the particular soil described, I believe we recognise it in

Arrian’s Indian History. “The leaves resemble those of the laurel; they

grow _chiefly_ in places where the tide flows among them, and where

they are again left dry at low water. Their flower is white, and in

shape like a violet, but much excelling it in sweetness.”

~Seik government.~

The arrangements made for our progress through the Seik territories

were very complete. We sailed from sunrise to sunset; and found

thirty or forty villagers alongside by day-break to drag each boat.

The fatigue and exertion which these people underwent in a hot sun

was excessive. When they passed a field of melons, but few were

left to the owner; and many an old lady scolded loudly as they

invaded her property. The people of this country are treated with

little consideration by the government; they are not oppressed, yet

considered its servants since the conquest. But for our interference,

these villagers, who had waded through the water and quicksands,

would have been dismissed empty-handed at night. The bounty of the

Maharajah enabled us daily to entertain sumptuously, with flour and

ghee, 300 hungry villagers; and the Mihmandar further assured me that

due remission would be made for the destruction of the fields in

our progress. While we ourselves advanced by water, the elephants,

camels, and escort seconded our motions on shore; and we always found

them drawn up in parade array on the ground fixed for our night’s

encampment; we always slept on shore. Before dusk we rode out on

elephants to the neighbouring villages, and conversed with the people.

They are lamentably ignorant; and consisted chiefly of Juts, a tribe of

Mahommedans engaged in agriculture. They are not allowed to pray aloud;

but they stimulated each other when pressed in our service by loud

shouts and invocations to Bhawul Huq, the revered saint of Mooltan.

~Alexander.~

As the sun set on the 23d, we moored below the village of Fazil Shah,

in the mouth of the Ravee or Hydraotes, still called Iräotee by the

natives. This was the spot where Alexander of Macedon met his anxious

army after his severe wound, and showed to his troops that his precious

life was yet preserved: but these are events which live only in the

historical works of Europe; they are unknown to the natives of Asia.

I must mention, however, a circumstance corroborative of the Greek

historians,--the fields of beans that I observed on the banks of this

river. They led Alexander, for some time, to mistake the heads of the

Indus for the Nile; and now remain, in a distant age, as proofs of his

journey, and accuracy in the historians of his expedition.

~Gifts from Lahore.~

The intelligence of our arrival in the country of the Seiks soon

reached Lahore; and a pair of gold armlets, set with diamonds and

emeralds, arrived in due course as a gift from the Maharajah to our

Mihmandar. The Lahore chief is munificent in his distribution of

presents among his nobles, though less so than in former years. Grants

of land, and gifts of jewels and money, are yet made. They attest the

wealth of the country, and the sound policy of the prince.

~Enter the Ravee.~

On the 24th we quitted the Acesines, and entered on the navigation of

the Ravee. At the point of union, the former river has a breadth of

three quarters of a mile, though the deep part does not extend for 500

yards.

Lieut. Macartney makes mention of a report which he had heard of the

Chenab being fordable in the cold season below this point; but the

natives assured me, that such an occurrence had never happened in the

memory of man, and I found the soundings to exceed twelve feet. The

Chenab, indeed, is only inferior to the Indus; its current is more

rapid than that river, and, with its depressed banks, it yet preserves

every where a depth of two fathoms. The Ravee throws itself into

the Chenab by three mouths, close to each other. This river is very

small, and resembles a canal, rarely exceeding 150 yards in breadth

in any part of its course. Its banks are precipitous, so that it

deepens before it expands. Nothing can exceed the crookedness of its

course, which is a great impediment to navigation, for we often found

ourselves, after half a day’s sail, within two miles of the spot from

which we started. The water of the Ravee is redder than that of the

Chenab. It is fordable in most places for eight months of the year. Its

banks are overgrown with reeds and tamarisk, and for half the distance,

from its estuary to the capital, there is no cultivation. There are no

canals or cuts from this river below Lahore. There is a very extensive

one above that city, which I shall have occasion to mention hereafter.

~Tolumba.~

On the 27th of June we reached the small town of Tolumba, which is

situated in a grove of date trees, nearly three miles south of the

Ravee. Sheriffo Deen, the historian of Timour, informs us that that

conqueror crossed the Ravee at Tolumba on his route to Delhi, so that

we now found ourselves on the track of another invader.

The Tartar is yet remembered by his offerings at the shrines in this

neighbourhood. Below the town, the Ravee assumes a straight course for

twelve miles, and presents a vista of beautiful scenery, as the banks

are fringed with lofty trees, that overhang the river. The natives

attribute this peculiarity in the Ravee to divine influence. The

clothes of a saint, when bathing, were washed into the stream, and the

eyes of the holy man, when turned in search of them, straightened the

river!

~Visit to the Hydaspes.~

The Hydaspes was now at hand, the spot where it unites with the

Acesines was only forty-five miles distant: here the fleet of Alexander

encountered its disasters in the rapids, and the hordes of Timour were

terrified by the noise of the waters. Much to the surprise of our Seik

friends, who could not comprehend the motives of our curiosity, we set

out on a galloping expedition for the scene of these memorable events,

and found ourselves on the second evening on the banks of the Hydaspes.

Our anxiety to behold the “fabulous Hydaspes” was heightened by the

belief, that this spot, so famous in its ancient history, had never

been visited by an European since the days of the Greeks. The river

joins the Acesines with a murmuring noise, but the velocity of the

current is inconsiderable, and vessels pass it without danger, except

in July and August. There are no eddies or rocks, nor is the channel

confined, but the ancient character is supported by the noise of the

confluence, which is greater than that of any of the other rivers.

The boatmen at the ferry said, that, during the swell of the river,

they placed themselves under the protection of a saint, whose tomb

stands at the fork of the two rivers. The superstitious reliance

bespeaks danger. We stood on the verge of the river, talking with

the people, till the sun set in the desert westward of us; our Seik

companions in the mean time, bathing in the stream; for, if deprived of

the enjoyment which we derived, they had a compensation in the belief

of performing ablutions at a holy spot, the junction of one river with

another.

~The Hydaspes.~

This river is named Behut or Bedusta, also Jelum, by the people on its

banks, and falls into the Acesines or Chenab in the latitude of 31°

11´ 30´´, forty-five miles north of the town of Tolumba, on the Ravee.

The banks of the Hydaspes coincide but faintly with the description

of Arrian: they do not confine the river in a narrow channel, nor are

there rocks anywhere near to mark the spot where the Greeks retired

with their dismantled fleet. The name of Hydaspes is yet discoverable

in the modern appellation of Bedusta. The Hydaspes is less rapid, and

altogether a smaller stream than the Acesines, being about 500 yards in

breadth at the point of conflux; when joined, these rivers roll on for

a short distance in a channel full a mile in breadth, and about twelve

feet deep.

~Boats of the Greeks.~

The timber of which the boats of the Punjab are constructed is chiefly

floated down by the Hydaspes from the Indian Caucasus, which most

satisfactorily explains the selection of its banks as the site of a

naval arsenal by Alexander in preference to the other rivers, by any of

which he might have reached the Indus without a retrograde movement.

There are but few boats on this river: about fifty are used in the

salt trade at Pind Dadun Khan, some of which carry 500 maunds of salt,

and exceed 100 feet in length, being built like the “Zohruq,” rounded

at both ends. They do not hoist a sail, and often pass the conflux in

safety. We are informed that the war-ships of the Greeks encountered

the greatest difficulties in the navigation of this river, and are

naturally led to attribute the calamities of some of them to the build,

since the provision boats, which are described as of “a round form;”

and, I presume, like the “Zohruq,” escaped uninjured. That Alexander

built the greatest part of his own fleet, is certain, for he commenced

his voyage on the Hydaspes with 800 vessels; and when he first reached

that stream he was entirely destitute of them; so that he ordered the

boats by which he passed the Indus to be broken up and brought by land

across the Doab. We hear likewise of triremes and biremes, that in no

way correspond with the present description of boats on the Indus; from

which it is probable that the round boats which escaped uninjured were

country vessels.

~Passage of the Hydaspes.~

The Hydaspes and Acesines have been forded in the cold season; but

when joined they have never been passed but by boats. Timour, in his

expedition to Delhi, threw a bridge across the conflux at Trimo ferry.

Runjeet Singh swam the Hydaspes at Sahewal with a large body of horse;

but that enterprising chief has crossed the Indus itself above Attok

in the same manner. The merchants from Khorasan travel to India at all

seasons, taking the route by Dera Ismael Khan, Mankere, and the Sandy

Desert, crossing at Trimo, on the road to Toolumba. The country between

these last two places differs from the right bank of the Hydaspes:

destitute of sand hills, it is almost as barren and desert. A sheet

of hard clay, with clumps of tamarisk, _khair_, _lan_, _kejra_, and

such other shrubs as are to be found in the Thurr, or Desert of India,

extends from the Chenab to the Ravee. There is not a blade of grass but

on the banks of the rivers. Water is procurable from wells about thirty

feet deep, but is scarce, and always fetid and noxious, though rarely

salt.

~Cathæi of Arrian.~

The population chiefly consists of the pastoral tribe of Kattia, or

Jun, who are so called from their living an erratic life, “Jun” having

that signification: few of them are found at any distance from the

rivers but in the rainy season. They have immense herds of buffaloes

and camels, from the milk of which they derive sustenance; hardly

cultivating the soil, though some tolerable fields of tobacco, raised

by irrigation, may be seen near their habitations. They are a tall

and handsome race; which may be attributed to a rule among them,

prohibiting marriages before their females attain the age of twenty

years: they believe that the children of an early union, so common

among every other Indian tribe, are puny and unhealthy. These Kattia

are a predatory and warlike race: few of them are free from scars and

wounds. They extend from the banks of the Hydaspes across the deserts

to Delhi, and are the aborigines of this country, in whom, I think, we

recognise the Cathæi of Arrian; as he calls them “a stout people, well

skilled in military affairs.” I am aware that these people have been

supposed to be the Kuttrees or Rajpoots; but their country is further

to the south, and did not occupy this part of India on the Greek

invasion.

~Ruins of Shorkote.~

In the space which intervenes between the Hydaspes and Ravee, and

about equidistant from either river, stand the ruins of Shorkote, near

a small town of that name. They occupy a considerable space, being

much larger than Sehwun, and of the same description; viz., a mound

of earth, surrounded by a brick wall, and so high as to be seen for a

circuit of six or eight miles. The traditions of the people state that

a Hindoo Rajah of the name of Shor ruled in this city, and was attacked

by a king from “Wulayut,” or the countries westward, about 1300 years

ago, and overcome through supernatural means. Shorkote is mentioned by

Timour’s historian; and its locality leads me to fix on it as the place

where Alexander received his wound, for he crossed to the west bank of

the Hydraotes in pursuit of the Malli, who had retired to “a fortified

city not far off,” the walls of which were of brick. The story of the

King of the West is, to say the least of it, a very probable tradition

of Alexander of Macedon. The construction of the place throws some

light on the fortresses which were captured by Alexander. Ancient

cities on the Indus appear to have been mounds of earth surrounded by

brick walls. At Shorcote I had the good fortune to procure a variety of

coins, which I long believed to be Hindoo; but my surmise regarding the

antiquity of the spot received a strong and satisfactory confirmation

through the intelligence of the able secretary to the Asiatic Society

of Bengal,--Mr. James Prinsep. That gentlemen discovered it to be a

Bactrian coin, resembling that of an Appolodotus, and shaped like a

Menander,--two coins of the Bactrian monarchs, found by Colonel J. Tod,

and engraved in the transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society. The

Greek word Bazileos may be read; and I had, therefore, to congratulate

myself on having, in my journey to the Hydaspes, found the first

Grecian relic in the Punjab.

~Return to the Ravee.~

We retraced our steps from this famous river, and saw much of the

Kattia, or Jun tribe. They were greatly surprised by our visit, and

approached in crowds to see us. They live in scattered villages, and

move their houses from place to place. Both men and women were tall and

stout, with sun-burnt complexions. The men allow their hair to grow

in loose tresses over their shoulders: the women have ear-rings of an

enormous size; but the stout and sturdy dames appeared not the least

incumbered from their weight.

~Birds and reptiles of the Ravee.~

We returned to Toolumba on the 1st of July, jaded from the excessive

heat, but highly gratified with our journey. We immediately embarked,

and prosecuted our voyage. During our absence the river had risen two

feet, from a fall of rain in the mountains; but it did not appear much

wider. We saw more aquatic birds in the Ravee than in our whole voyage;

they consisted of cranes, storks, pelicans, ducks, teal, &c. Among the

inhabitants of the river itself, a creature called “bolun” was the most

remarkable. We saw several of them in the mouth of the Ravee, which

were of a black colour, and rolled like the porpoise. The natives class

this fish with the alligator, and say it has four small paws, and a

long snout like a pig. Its habits do not lead it on shore, and it lives

on small fish. The large alligator is unknown here; but the long-nosed

reptile called “ghuryal” abounds. There is said to be a singular

creature, called “thundwa,” in this river, which is described as of

the turtle species, and to have a string in its mouth, by which it can

entangle a man, or even an elephant. It is mentioned in the Shasters as

having seized the elephant of a god. I have not seen the “thundwa,” nor

do I believe the story of it.

~Table supplies.~

Though we had journeyed thus far in the country of the Seiks, we had

not passed a village inhabited by them, or seen any others of the tribe

than were attached to our suite. The country is very poorly peopled,

and without tillage for many miles. The means taken to supply our wants

in the voyage often excited a smile. Every villager in office had been

addressed, and a list of articles which are edible to the “Firingees”

ordered to be collected. Baskets of eggs, kept for weeks in expectation

of our arrival, were daily brought to us, sometimes to the number

of 400 or 500; but they were better adapted for the punishment of a

malefactor in the pillory than the table, and, in a few, chickens were

to be found in the shell! Butchers were brought from Mooltan to supply

our wants: loads of saltpetre were daily sent to cool the wine and

water, and the necessaries and luxuries of life were supplied without

bounds.

~Heat.~

The heat now became oppressive, and gave indication of the monsoon,

according to the natives. In the afternoon of the 3d of July we had

the thermometer so high as 110° at 4 P. M.; and at sunset a storm set

in from the north-west, which was really sublime. Clouds appeared to

approach us for about half an hour, gradually rising from the horizon,

and looking more like mountains in motion. When it came upon us, we

found it to be one of those tornadoes that we experienced near Mooltan,

and unaccompanied by rain. The wind was hot and sultry, and bore

clouds of fine dust along with it. It passed over in an hour, and was

succeeded by vivid flashes of lightning from the same quarter. Six days

after the phenomenon the rain set in with great violence; and till then

we had a continuance of the dust every evening.

~Arrival of an elephant.~

Our Mihmandar waited on us at the village of Cheechawutnee with an

enormous elephant, and said that he had been instructed by the Maharaja

to place it at our disposal, as he feared the native houda did not

suit our taste: he was right in his conjectures, and we appreciated

the civility. The animal was richly caparisoned, and bore a large

chair, ornamented with silver and enamel work, lined with red velvet.

He was accompanied by six of the Maharaja’s own Orderlies, in dresses

of scarlet faced with yellow, which had a good appearance. The Seiks,

in all the various military costumes that they have adopted, never lay

aside the small turban of their tribe; which, I must say, becomes them.

It was a source of no small amusement to watch the love of gossip among

the natives of our suite. We had a reporter sent purposely from the

Court, who daily despatched an account of our employment and rides:

the news-writer of Mooltan followed us from that city, and every day

transmitted a Gazette; I had also letters from the news-writer at

Lahore, giving me a _précis_ of local news, and asking for a _morceau_

in return. Our Dewan corresponded with the Chevaliers Ventura and

Allard; and I was somewhat surprized to receive answers to many of my

enquiries regarding the country from the former gentleman, to whom

their subject had been communicated without my knowledge. Nothing,

however, could exceed the politeness of all the people towards us; and

the ready and happy manner they acceded to our wishes made us careful

to wish for any thing. As may be supposed, there were no bounds to

their flattery; and we were daily informed that we were the “second

Alexander,” the “Sikunder sanee,” for having achieved so dangerous a

voyage as the Indus. The polite natives of this quarter view with dread

the barbarity and customs of Sindees and Beloochees.

~Ruins of Harapa.~

About fifty miles eastward of Toolumba, I passed inland for four miles

to examine the ruins of an ancient city, called Harapa. The remains

are extensive, and the place, which has been built of brick, is about

three miles in circumference. There is a ruined citadel on the river

side of the town; but otherwise Harapa is a perfect chaos, and has

not an entire building: the bricks have been removed to build a small

place of the old name hard by. Tradition fixes the fall of Harapa at

the same period as Shorkote (1300 years ago), and the people ascribe

its ruin to the vengeance of God on Harapa, its governor, who claimed

certain privileges on the marriage of every couple in his city, and

in the course of his sensualities, was guilty of incest. At a later

period, Harapa became a Mahommedan town; and there is a tomb of a Saint

of the “faithful,” eighteen feet in length, the assigned, but fabulous,

stature of the deceased. A large stone of annular form, and a huge

black slab of an oval shape, which lie near the grave, are said to

represent the ring and its gem of this departed giant, and to have been

converted from more valuable to their present base materials. Where

such fables are believed, we must cease to hope for even reasonable

fiction. I found some coins in these ruins, both Persian and Hindoo,

but I cannot fix its era from any of them.

~The inhabitants.~

As we ascended the Ravee, and cleared the country of the Kattias, the

population increased, and their hamlets, though small, were numerous.

Crowds of people flocked to the banks of the river as we approached,

and evinced the most intense curiosity to see us. One man would call

out that he was a Syud, another that he was a Zemindar, a third that

he was a Peer, or Saint, and a fourth, that he was a Seik; while the

ladies themselves were not backward in expressing their anxiety for a

sight of us. On such occasions we always moved out of our cabin, or

bungalow; but this ready exhibition only attracted another concourse

of spectators. The notions which they entertained of us were most

extravagant: we were believed to be under the guardian care of two

pigeons, who shaded us from the sun and rain. One individual asked us

seriously to impart to him the secret of converting shreds of onions

into gold ducats, which he had understood we had been practising!

~A tiger hunt.~

The bravery of our Seik friends had been already exhibited to us by

their attacking the wild hog with a sword, on foot; but a nobler

specimen of their courage was displayed in the death of a tiger. We

disturbed the animal in a thicket of tamarisk close to our boats; and

the Mihmandar immediately invited us to see the sport. Mr. Leckie

accompanied the party; but our elephant was not at hand, and I did

not go. The party was entirely composed of horsemen. The monster was

speedily wounded by some one, and several riders were unhorsed from

the fright of their steeds. The Seiks then advanced on foot, sword in

hand, to attack the tiger: he sprang at one man most furiously; and, as

he fixed on his left shoulder, the poor fellow bravely struck his head

by a well-directed blow: the contest was unequal, and the man fell,

horribly lacerated. His comrades instantly ran up, and, with cuts and

wounds, the tiger soon fell. He was a huge animal, and measured ten

feet: his thigh was as large as that of a full-grown man. The coolness

and courage of the Seiks surpass belief; they have great encouragement

from their chiefs. To all my enquiries regarding the unfortunate

man that had been wounded, they replied, with an ostentation of

indifference, that he was but a Seik, would be well rewarded, and had

already received a horse, and his annual pay had been increased an

hundred rupees. The skin, head, and paws of the tiger were immediately

despatched to the Maharaja, whose bounty will be further extended to

the wounded. This encouragement makes these people the bravest of the

Indians.

~Strange treatment.~

The faculty will be surprised at the Seik mode of curing a wound

received from a tiger, at variance as it is with European practices.

They entertain an opinion that, if a person who has been so wounded

be allowed to sleep, he will see the tiger in his dreams, and thus

lose his heart, and inevitably die. They therefore furnish the patient

with the strongest stimulants, and set people to prevent his falling

asleep for five or six days. By that time the wounds assume a certain

appearance; and they then permit the man to rest. In the instance which

I have mentioned, I can answer for the copious use of stimulants, as we

supplied the brandy.

~Intelligence of a Seik.~

~A Cashmere boat.~

The intelligence of the Seik Sirdar Senu Sing, our Mihmandar, had,

more than once, arrested my attention. From a perusal of translations,

he had acquired some knowledge of our astronomical system, and of the

astrolabe, with several other such instruments. He expressed his doubts

on some parts of the theory; and asked me to explain the continuance

of the pole star in one place when the earth was said to move so many

miles daily in its orbit round the sun. Among other information that

I was enabled to impart to him, I showed him the thermometer, and

explained the nature of the instrument. He immediately had the whole

particulars committed to writing: and, where such avidity, and so

laudable a thirst for knowledge, were displayed, I could not withhold

making him a present of the instrument. This Sirdar was equally expert

in the martial exercises of his nation: he handled the bow with grace

and dexterity; he was an excellent horseman, and could hit a mark at

full speed; and I have seen him touch the ground with both feet at the

gallop, and regain his seat. I must mention that his curiosity did

not always take a scientific turn; for his wonder had been excited

by our art in preserving meat, fish, &c. A ham, which I showed him,

was calculated to satisfy his doubts; and he was only contented when

he had got a complete recipe for curing it. The Seiks are very fond

of hog; and ham bids fair to be a standing dish in the Punjab. By

the 11th of July we had left the country of the Kattias, and reached

Futtihpoor, where the land is cultivated. Our approach to Lahore seemed

to facilitate every arrangement: a detachment of fifty lancers had been

stationed in the intervening villages, to assemble the inhabitants,

to drag the boats the moment we approached. Our own suite was now

increased to about 500 people; and to a drum and fife, which had

always been with us, a bugle was added. Such dissonance as was now

produced was never heard “at tattoo or reveille o;” and they played at

both hours. We had also a Cashmere boat sent for our accommodation,

called the “purinda” or bird. It was a complete skiff, about sixty

feet long, and pointed at both ends, so that half of the boat did not

even touch the water. I am informed that this style of build, not

unlike the gondola of Venice, is general in the lake of Cashmere. The

crew were natives of that country; and they impelled their vessel by

small green-painted paddles, with which they struck the water in a

peculiar manner. They were very handsome and athletic men, dressed

in red jackets. The boat itself had a square bungalow in the centre,

with a flat roof; where we sat during the cool of the evening. She was

flat-bottomed; and had her planks clamped with iron. Her motion through

the water was tremulous, and by no means agreeable; but the celerity

with which vessels of this kind move is acknowledged.

~Letter from Lahore.~

On the 13th of July, a deputation from the Kardar of Kot Kamalia waited

on us with presents of fruit, &c., and a sum of 1100 rupees. A letter

was brought, at the same time, from the Maharaja, expressive of his

great satisfaction at our approach. The epistle was flowery to a

degree seldom met with even in the Persian language; and filled with

similes about gardens, roses, zephyrs, and fountains. Every word of a

letter which I had addressed to his Highness was declared to be a bud

of everlasting friendship; and every letter of every word was a blown

rose! But the document would require a translation, and that, perhaps,

it does not deserve.

~Religious wars of the Seiks.~

Neither the congratulations nor munificence of the Maharaja could keep

our people well: they were attacked with whitlow; and there were no

less than seven or eight of them laid up at once with that painful

complaint. They themselves ascribed it to the water; but I was rather

disposed to attribute it to a want of it and exercise; for they had had

a voyage of longer duration than a trip from India to England. We now

entered the country of the Seiks. All these people are either soldiers

or husbandmen, like the Romans of old. They were very communicative;

and described with much ardour the campaigns in which they have

fought, and their collision with the bigoted Euzoofzyes across the

Indus. I should hardly expect to be credited if I recorded many of

the circumstances that have been communicated to me, and the number

of people that have fallen in these religious wars. The Euzoofzyes

entertain such hatred for the infidel Seiks, that they often declare

themselves “ghazee,” and devote their lives to their extinction;

believing that the death of one of them is more meritorious than that

of any other unbeliever. As the Seik religion arose some hundred years

after Mahommed, they are not certainly supported by their prophet. To

use an expression of the Seiks, the Euzoofzyes “laugh at death.” It has

been justly remarked, that we know little and care less for the history

of such transactions, when we have no connection with the parties

concerned.

~Deputation.~

In the evening of the 15th we reached Changa, about twenty-five miles

from Lahore, and were received by a deputation from the Maharaja,

consisting of two Seik Sirdars, and Noorodeen Fakeer, of a Mahommedan

family enjoying trust and influence at Court. The meeting, as was

requested, took place on elephants, five of which bore the magnates

and ourselves. Each individual delivered a purse of money in gold and

silver, and, by his Highness’ desire, asked for the health of the King

of England, and the period that had elapsed since we left London: for

the Maharaja, it seemed, believed us to have been deputed from the

royal footstool. I replied as circumstances required. The principal

Seik, by name Sham Sing, presented a bow. The party also produced a

letter from the Maharaja, mentioning that they had been instructed to

congratulate us on our arrival, and use every expression which could be

pleasing to the sense; and a tissue of flattery ensued, which I confess

my inability to describe.

“The seasons,” said the Fakeer, “have been changed to aid your safe

arrival; and when it should have rained, the sun shines; but it is

the sun of England. You must now consider yourselves at home, and in

a garden, of which you are the roses; that such a friendship had now

grown up between the British and the Seiks, that the inhabitants of

Iran and Room would hear it proclaimed in their distant dominions;

that light had succeeded darkness when we merged from the barbarians

of Sinde, and that its genial influence had changed the bud into the

rose.” I should exhaust a vocabulary if I recorded all his expressions.

I replied as well as I could in the same style, asking after the

Maharaja’s health; and assured the deputation of our satisfaction at

the kindness and attention which we had received in the Seik dominions.

Before taking leave, I showed the party the horses, with which they

were delighted.

~Escort.~

The Sirdars brought an escort of lancers and Seik cavalry: the latter

party were entirely dressed in yellow, and had just returned with Sham

Sing from the campaign against Syud Ahmed, who had long carried on a

fanatical war in this country, and had been lately killed.

Among the party, a boy was pointed out, who had been nominated to the

command held by his fallen father,--a Seik rule admirably calculated to

feed the military spirit of their nation. We rode among them, evidently

much to their delight, and to our own amusement. The chiefs wore many

valuable jewels; but these ornaments did not become the wrists and

brows of such warriors.

~Seik ladies.~

We had now an opportunity of seeing the Seik ladies, who are not less

peculiar in their appearance than their husbands. They knot the hair

at the crown, and throw a white robe over it, which entirely envelopes

the body, and gives a conical shape to the head. They pull up the hair

so tight to form this knot, that the skin of the forehead is drawn

with it, and the eyebrows are considerably removed from the visual

organ. As may be imagined, this fashion does not improve their personal

appearance, yet it is general among all classes of the females. The

Seik ladies are not so handsome as their husbands; their features are

sharp and regular. They are not confined to their houses as strictly as

the Mahommedan women; for the Seiks, in matrimony as well as religion,

differ widely from the followers of the Prophet.

In the evening of the 16th, we had a second visit from the deputation

of yesterday, who brought us a sum of 700 rupees, with an announcement

from the Maharaja that that amount had been fixed on as our daily

allowance during our further stay in the Punjab. I accepted the sum,

but did not consider it proper to allow of such wasteful munificence

being in future continued.

At noon, on the 17th of July, we came in sight of the lofty minarets

of the King’s mosque at Lahore, and might have reached the ancient

capital of the Moghul empire, and the termination of our protracted

voyage; but the ceremonial of our _entrée_ required arrangement, and

we halted three or four miles from the city, at the earnest request of

our conductors. As the sun set, I saw, for the first time, the massy

mountains which encircle Cashmere, clothed in a mantle of white snow. I

felt a nervous sensation of joy as I first gazed on the Himalaya, and

almost forgot the duties I owed to our conductors, in contemplating

these mighty works of nature.

FOOTNOTES:

[11] “May the Gooroo be victorious,” the national war-cry of the Seiks.

[12] Salvadora Persica.

CHAP. VI.

LAHORE.

~Enter Lahore.~

On the morning of the 18th of June we made our public entrance into

Lahore. The Maharaja’s minister, Uzeez-o-Deen, and Raja Ghoolab Sing,

with the principal men of the state, met us at a distance of three

miles from the city, escorted by a guard of cavalry and a regiment

of infantry. We were introduced to these personages by Captain Wade,

the political agent of government at Lodiana, who had been deputed

to Lahore on the occasion, and was accompanied by Dr. A. Murray.

The sight of these gentlemen, after our long absence from European

society, excited the most pleasurable feelings. Our reception was

also most gratifying, heightened, as it was, by the reflection that

our undertaking had been this day brought to a safe and successful

issue. We alighted at a garden about a mile from Lahore, the residence

of M. Chevalier Allard, whose manners and address were engaging and

gentlemanlike. We here parted with the deputation, after receiving a

large sum of money and a profusion of sweetmeats in the name of the

Maharaja.

The Chevalier then conducted us to an upper room, where we sat down to

a _déjeûné à la fourchette_ of the richest cookery.

Another French gentleman, M. Court, was of our party. The scene was

novel to us: the walls and roof of the apartment were entirely inlaid

with small pieces of mirror. Champagne usurped the place of tea and

coffee. M. Allard is the Maharaja’s General of cavalry; and we had

the trumpets of his division in attendance during breakfast. We

continued with our worthy host during the following day, which passed

in preparations for our introduction at Court, which had been fixed for

the 20th instant.

~Presentation at Court.~

About 9 A. M., when the Maharaja had reached the ancient palace that

stands within the walls of Lahore, he sent a deputation of his nobles

to conduct us to Court. All the Sirdars and officers who had been

from time to time sent to us were previously in attendance, besides a

numerous escort; and the pageant was further swelled by a detachment of

Bengal sepoys which Captain Wade had brought from Lodiana. The coach,

which was a handsome vehicle, headed the procession; and in rear of the

dray-horses we ourselves followed on elephants, with the officers of

the Maharaja. We passed close under the walls of the city, between them

and the ditch, and entered Lahore by the palace gate. The streets were

lined with cavalry, artillery, and infantry, all of which saluted as

we passed. The concourse of people was immense; they had principally

seated themselves on the balconies of the houses, and preserved a most

respectful silence. On entering the first court of the palace, we were

received by Raja Dihan Sing, a fine soldierlike looking person, dressed

in armour, by whom we were conducted to the door of the palace. While

stooping to remove my shoes at the threshold, I suddenly found myself

in the arms and tight embrace of a diminutive old-looking man,--the

great Maharaja Runjeet Sing. He was accompanied by two of his sons, who

likewise embraced Mr. Leckie and myself; when the Maharaja conducted

me by the hand to the interior of his court; our reception was of the

most distinguished nature, and he had advanced that distance to do us

honour. We found Captain Wade and Dr. Murray in the Durbar, and all of

us were seated on silver chairs, in front of his Highness. The Maharaja

made various complimentary remarks; asked particularly after the health

of his Majesty the King of Great Britain; and, as we had come from

Bombay, enquired for Sir John Malcolm. When we had been seated a short

time, I informed his Highness that I had brought along with me in

safety to Lahore five horses, which his most gracious Majesty the King

of England had conferred upon him, in consideration of the relations

of amity and concord subsisting between the states; as also a carriage

from the Right Honourable the Governor-general of India, in token of

his Lordship’s esteem. I then added, that the horses were accompanied

by a most friendly letter from his Majesty’s minister for the affairs

of India, which I held in my hand in a bag of cloth of gold, sealed

with the arms of England. On this the Maharaja and his Court, as well

as ourselves, rose up, and his Highness received the letter, and

touched his forehead with the seal. The letter was then handed to his

minister, Uzeez-o-Deen, who read a Persian translation of it in the

presence of the whole Court. The envoys from the surrounding states

were present. The following is a copy of the communication with which

his Majesty had honoured the ruler of Lahore:--

~Letter from the King.~

COPY OF A LETTER FROM HIS MAJESTY’S MINISTER FOR THE AFFAIRS OF INDIA

TO MAHARAJA RUNJEET SING, DELIVERED TO HIS HIGHNESS AT LAHORE, ON THE

20TH OF JULY, 1831.

_To His Highness Maharaja Runjeet Sing, Chief of the Seik Nation, and

Lord of Cashmere._

MAHARAJA,

The King, my most gracious master, has commanded me to express to your

Highness his Majesty’s acknowledgments of your Highness’s attention

in transmitting to his Majesty, by the esteemed and excellent Lord,

Earl, Amherst, the splendid manufacture of your Highness’s subjects of

Cashmere.

The King, knowing that your Highness is in possession of the most

beautiful horses of the most celebrated breeds of Asia, has thought

that it might be agreeable to your Highness to possess some horses of

the most remarkable breed of Europe; and, in the wish to gratify your

Highness in this matter, has commanded me to select for your Highness

some horses of the gigantic breed which is peculiar to England.

These horses, selected with care requiring much time, I now send to

your Highness; and as their great weight makes it inexpedient that

they should undergo the fatigue of a long march in a hot climate, I

have directed that they shall be conveyed to your Highness by the

Indus, and such river of the Punjab as may be most easy of navigation.

The King has given me his most special commands to intimate to your

Highness the sincere satisfaction with which his Majesty has witnessed

the good understanding which has for so many years subsisted, and

which may God ever preserve, between the British Government and your

Highness.

His Majesty relies with confidence on the continuance of a state

of peace, so beneficial to the subjects of both powers; and his

Majesty earnestly desires that your Highness may live long in health

and honour, extending the blessings of beneficent government to the

nations under your Highness’s rule.

By the King’s command.

(Signed) ELLENBOROUGH.

~Runjeet Sing’s stud.~

As the contents of the document were unfolded, the Maharaja gave

evident symptoms of his satisfaction; and when the letter was half

read, he said that he would greet its arrival by a salute; and a peal

of artillery from sixty guns, each firing twenty-one times, announced

to the citizens of Lahore the joy of their King. His Highness then

expressed his intention of viewing the presents; and we accompanied

him. The sight of the horses excited his utmost surprise and wonder,

their size and colour pleased him: he said they were little elephants;

and, as they passed singly before him, he called out to his different

Sirdars and officers, who joined in his admiration. Nothing could

exceed the affability of the Maharaja: he kept up an uninterrupted

conversation for the hour and a half which the interview lasted: he

enquired particularly about the depth of water in the Indus, and the

possibility of navigating it; and put various questions regarding

the people who occupy its banks, and their political and military

importance. I alluded to the riches of Sinde, which seemed to excite

his utmost cupidity. He introduced us to all the representatives of the

neighbouring states, and concluded by asking if we should like to see

his own stud. About thirty horses were immediately brought, and passed

in review order before us. They were caparisoned in the richest and

most superb manner; and some of them were adorned with very valuable

jewels: he named each horse, and described his pedigree and points, as

he was brought up. They were of all countries; and from their necks

being tightly reined up, certainly looked well; but they were not the

stud which one would have expected at Lahore--all the horses appeared

to be under-limbed. The exertion which his Highness underwent seemed to

exhaust him, and we withdrew. Nature has, indeed, been sparing in her

gifts to this personage; and there must be a mighty contrast between

his mind and body. He has lost an eye, is pitted by the small pox,

and his stature does not certainly exceed five feet three inches. He

is entirely free from pomp and show, yet the studied respect of his

Court is remarkable; not an individual spoke without a sign, though the

throng was more like a bazar than the Court of the first native Prince

in these times.

~Hall of audience.~

The hall of audience, in which the interview took place, was built

entirely of marble, and is the work of the Moghul Emperors; part

of the roof was gorgeously decorated by a pavilion of silken cloth

studded with jewels. The Maharaja himself wore a necklace, armlets, and

bracelets of emeralds, some of which were very large. His sword was

mounted with the most precious stones. The nobles were likewise dressed

for the occasion with jewels; and all the Court appeared in yellow, the

favourite colour of the nation, which has a gaudy but striking effect.

~Military spectacle.~

On the following morning, the Maharaja intimated his wish for our

presence at a military review in honour of passing events. We found his

Highness on the parade ground, seated on a terrace, a short distance

from the walls of Lahore. Five regiments of regular infantry were

drawn up in line, three deep. Runjeet requested we would pass down the

line and inspect them. They were dressed in white, with black cross

belts, and bore muskets, the manufacture of Cashmere or Lahore: there

was a mixture of Hindoostanees and Seiks in every corps. After the

inspection, the brigade manœuvred under a native general officer, and

went through its evolutions with an exactness and precision fully

equal to our Indian troops: the words of command were given in French.

~Conversations.~

During the spectacle, his Highness conversed with great fluency, and

asked our opinions on his army and their equipments. His muskets, he

said, cost him seventeen rupees each. He was particularly desirous to

know if a column of British troops could advance against artillery.

From these subjects he passed to that of the revenue of Cashmere; he

had just got thirty-six lacs of rupees, he said, from it this year,

which was an increase of six lacs. “All the people I send to Cashmere,”

continued he, “turn out rascals (haramzada); there is too much pleasure

and enjoyment in that country;” and when he considered the importance

of the place, he believed he must send one of his sons, or go himself.

This is the style of Runjeet Sing’s conversation; but his inquisitive

disposition, and pertinent questions, mark the strength of his

character. He found out, among our establishment, a native of India,

who had been in England, whom he first interrogated in our presence,

and afterwards sent for privately, to know if the wealth and power of

the British nation were as great as had been represented. We left his

Highness, on observing preparations for breakfast,--a meal which he

usually takes in the open air, and in presence of his troops, and even

sometimes on horseback. His passion for riding and performing distant

journeys is great; and, on such occasions, he will take his meal on the

saddle rather than dismount.

~French officers.~

We took up our abode in the garden-house of M. Chevalier Ventura,

another French General, who was absent on the Indus with his legion.

The building had been constructed in the European style; but the

Chevalier has added a terrace, with ninety fountains, to cool the

surrounding atmosphere. Our intercourse with the French officers was

on the most friendly footing; and it continued so during our residence

at Lahore. Among these gentlemen, M. Court struck me as an acute and

well informed person; he is both a geographer and an antiquarian. M.

Court, as well as his brother officers, was formerly in the service of

one of the Persian Princes, and travelled to India as a native, which

gave him an opportunity of acquiring the best information regarding

the intervening countries. He showed me the route from Kermenshah,

by Herat, Candahar, Ghuzni, and Cabool, to Attok, constructed

topographically with great care; and he informed me, at the same time,

that he had been less anxious to obtain a complete map of that part

of Asia, than to ascertain one good route, with its détours, and the

military and statistical resources of the country. The French have much

better information of these countries than ourselves; and M. Court,

in explaining his map to me, pointed out the best routes for infantry

and cavalry. This gentleman has likewise employed a residence of four

years in the Punjab to illustrate its geography; he has encountered

jealousy from Runjeet Sing, but still managed to complete a broad

belt of survey from Attok to the neighbourhood of our own frontier. I

doubt not but the antiquities as well as the geography of the Punjab

will be illustrated by this intelligent gentleman; who, to his honour

be it said, adds to a zeal in the pursuit, the strongest desire to

disseminate his own knowledge and stimulate others. The fruit of M.

Court’s labours, I believe, will, ere long, be given to the public by

the Geographical Society of Paris, or some other of the learned bodies

in that capital.

~City of Lahore.~

In our evening rambles at Lahore, we had many opportunities of viewing

this city. The ancient capital extended from east to west for a

distance of five miles; and had an average breadth of three, as may

be yet traced by the ruins. The mosques and tombs, which have been

more stably built than the houses, remain in the midst of fields

and cultivation as caravansaries for the traveller. The modern city

occupies the western angle of the ancient capital, and is encircled

by a strong wall. The houses are very lofty; and the streets, which

are narrow, offensively filthy, from a gutter that passes through the

centre. The bazars of Lahore do not exhibit much appearance of wealth;

but the commercial influence of the Punjab is to be found at Umritsir,

the modern capital. There are some public buildings within the city

that deserve mention. The King’s mosque is a capacious building of

red sandstone, which had been brought by Aurungzebe from near Delhi.

Its four lofty minarets still stand, but the temple itself has been

converted into a powder magazine. There are two other mosques, with

minarets, to proclaim the falling greatness of the Mahommedan empire;

where the “faithful,” as every where else in the Punjab, must offer up

their prayers in silence.

~Tomb of Juhangeer.~

But the stranger must cross the Ravee to behold the finest ornament of

Lahore--the “Shah Dura,” or tomb of the Emperor Juhangeer, which is a

monument of great beauty. It is a quadrangular building, with a minaret

at each corner, rising to the height of seventy feet. It is built

chiefly of marble and red stone, which are alternately interlaid in all

parts of the building. The sepulchre is of most chaste workmanship,

with its inscriptions and ornaments arranged in beautiful mosaic;

the shading of some roses and other flowers is even preserved by the

different colours of the stone. Two lines of black letters, on a ground

of white marble, announce the name and title of the “Conqueror of

the World,” Juhangeer; and about a hundred different words in Arabic

and Persian, with the single signification of God, are distributed

on different parts of the sepulchre. The floor of the building is

also mosaic. The tomb was formerly covered by a dome; but Bahadoor

Shah threw it down, that the dew and rain of heaven might fall on the

tomb of his grandfather Juhangeer. It is probable that this beautiful

monument will soon be washed into the river Ravee, which is capricious

in its course near Lahore, and has lately overwhelmed a portion of the

garden wall that environs the tomb.

~Shalimar.~

The next, though by no means the least, object of interest at Lahore

is the garden of Shah Jehan; the Shalimar or “house of joy.” It is a

magnificent remnant of Moghul grandeur, about half a mile in length,

with three successive terraces, each above the level of the other.

A canal, which is brought from a great distance, intersects this

beautiful garden, and throws up its water in 450 fountains to cool

the atmosphere. The marble couch of the Emperor yet remains; but the

garden suffered much injury before Runjeet Sing obtained his present

ascendancy. The Maharaja himself has removed some of the marble houses;

but he has had the good taste to replace them, though it be by more

ignoble stone.

~Conversations of Runjeet Sing.~

~Dancing girls.~

As we were proceeding one morning to examine the tomb of Juhangeer,

we found Runjeet Sing seated on the plain, and surrounded by his

troops. He sent one of his officers to call us; and we passed about

half an hour with him. He gave us an account of the inroads of the

Afghans into the Punjab, and told us that we now sat on their ground of

encampment. Zuman Shah, the blind king at Lodiana, he said, had thrice

sacked the city of Lahore; he also talked of his designs on India,

and the vicissitudes to which kings are subject. The Maharaja was the

plainest dressed man at his Durbar; his clothes were shabby and worn.

On the evening of the 25th, his Highness gave us a private audience,

in which we saw him to great advantage; for he directed his Court to

withdraw. On our arrival, we found him seated on a chair, with a party

of thirty or forty dancing girls, dressed uniformly in boys’ clothes.

They were mostly natives of Cashmere or the adjacent mountains, on whom

grace and beauty had not been sparingly bestowed. Their figures and

features were small; and their Don Giovanni costume of flowing silk

most becoming, improved as it was by a small bow and quiver in the

hand of each. The “eyes of Cashmere” are celebrated in the poetry of

the East, of which these Dianas now furnished brilliant specimens, in

gems black and bright; disfigured, however, by a kind of sparkling gold

dust glued round each organ. “This,” said Runjeet Sing, “is one of my

regiments (pultuns), but they tell me it is one I cannot discipline;”

a remark which amused us, and mightily pleased the fair. He pointed

out two of the ladies, whom he called the “Commandants” of this arm of

his service, to whom he had given villages, and an allowance of five

and ten rupees a day. He shortly afterwards called for four or five

elephants to take these, his _undisciplined_ troops, home. Runjeet then

commenced on more important subjects; and ran over, among other things,

the whole history of his connexion with the British Government. It had

at first, he said, excited great suspicion and discontent among the

Seik Sirdars; but he himself was satisfied of its advantage from the

outset. Sir John Malcolm, he continued, had first stood his friend in

1805; and Sir Charles Metcalfe had completed his happiness. Sir David

Ochterlony had further cemented the bonds of friendship; and the letter

which I had now delivered to him from the minister of the King of

England partook more of the nature of a treaty than a common epistle,

and had gratified him beyond his powers of expression. He here recurred

to the riches of Sinde, expressing an earnest desire to appropriate

them to his own use; and put the most pointed questions to me regarding

the feelings of Government on such a subject. Runjeet is very fond of

comparing the relative strength of the European nations; and, on this

occasion, he asked whether France or England were the greater power. I

assured him they were both great; but he had only to remember our power

in India to be satisfied of the military character of Britain. “Well,

then,” added he, “what do you think of my French officers?” After

this, he wished to know if I had heard of his campaigns across the

Indus against the “Ghazees,” or fanatics of the Mahommedan religion;

and said that he owed all his successes to the bravery of his nation,

who were very free from prejudice, would carry eight days’ provision

on their backs, dig a well if water were scarce, and build a fort if

circumstances required it; a kind of service which he could not prevail

on the natives of Hindostan to perform. “The bravery of my troops, as

you are aware, conquered Cashmere for me; and how do you think,” said

he, “I dispose of the shawls and productions of that country in the

present glut of trade? I pay my officers and troops with them; and as

I give a Chief, who may be entitled to a balance of 300 rupees, shawls

to the value of 500, he is well pleased, and the state is benefited.”

From the shawls of Cashmere, Runjeet passed to the praises of wine and

strong drinks, of which he is immoderately fond: he begged to know if I

had drank the supply which he had sent me, which, as a recommendation,

he assured us was mixed with pearls and precious gems. This, I should

mention, is a common beverage in the East; a fashion which probably

had its origin in the giver desiring to make the grounds as well

as the contents of the bottle acceptable: pearls would form a good

glass for the butler. We continued, till it was late, conversing with

Runjeet in this desultory manner; when he produced a splendid bow and

quiver, as also a horse richly caparisoned, with a shawl cloth thrown

over his body, a necklace of agate, and a heron’s plume stuck on his

head, saying, “This is one of my riding horses, which I beg you will

accept.” He also gave a similar present to Mr. Leckie; and while

we were looking at the animals, one of the dray horses was brought

forward, dressed out in cloth of gold, and bearing an elephant’s saddle

on his back! I could not suppress a smile at the exhibition. Runjeet

then sprinkled sandal oil and rose water over us with his own hands,

which completed the ceremony. As we were moving, he called us back to

beg that we would attend him early next morning, and he would order a

review of his horse artillery for our amusement.

~Horse artillery.~

We met his Highness at an appointed hour on the parade ground, with

a train of fifty-one pieces of artillery which he had assembled on

the occasion. They were brass 6-pounders, each drawn by six horses.

The command was taken by a native officer, who put them through the

movements of horse artillery, and formed line and column in every

direction. The evolutions were not rapidly performed; but the celerity

was considerable; and no accident in overturning or firing occurred

throughout the morning. There were no waggons in the field, and the

horses and equipments were inferior. The guns, however, were well cast,

and the carriages in good repair: they had been made at Lahore, and

had cost him 1000 rupees each. As the troops were passing in review

order, he asked for our candid opinion regarding the display. “Every

gun which you now see costs me 5000 rupees annually, in the pay of the

officers and men, and in keeping up the horses. I have 100 pieces of

field artillery, exclusive of battering guns and mortars, and my French

officers tell me I have too many. I can reduce their number,” added

he, “but it is a difficult matter to increase it.” We had not sat much

longer with him, when he said, “You must breakfast with me;” an honour

with which we would have rather dispensed, but there was no retreating.

The chairs were removed, and a velvet cushion was placed for each of

us in front of the Maharaja, and the simple fare of this potentate

produced. It consisted of various kinds of rice, with milk, sugar, and

some preserved mangoes; all of which were served up in leaves sewed

together. Runjeet selected the choicest parts, and handed them to us

himself; politeness compelled us to keep him company. The thumb and

fingers are certainly a poor substitute for the knife and fork. When

breakfast was finished, Runjeet asked if we would accept a dinner from

him; and immediately gave instructions for its preparation, and we had

it sent to us in the evening. It was much the same as the breakfast,

and served up in a similar manner.

Runjeet Sing is, in every respect, an extraordinary character. I

have heard his French officers observe that he has no equal from

Constantinople to India; and all of them have seen the intermediate

powers.

~Character of Runjeet Sing.~

We continued at Lahore as the guests of the Maharaja till the 16th of

August, and had many opportunities of meeting him; but I do not think

I can add any thing to the history of his rise, drawn up by the late

Captain William Murray, Political agent at Ambala. The most creditable

trait in Runjeet’s character is his humanity; he has never been known

to punish a criminal with death since his accession to power; he does

not hesitate to mutilate a malefactor, but usually banishes him to

the hills. Cunning and conciliation have been the two great weapons

of his diplomacy. It is too probable, that the career of this chief

is nearly at an end; his chest is contracted, his back is bent, his

limbs withered, and it is not likely that he can long bear up against a

nightly dose of spirits more ardent than the strongest brandy.

~Audience of leave. Precious stones.~

On the 16th of August we had our audience of leave with Runjeet Sing,

but my fellow traveller was unable to attend from indisposition.

Captain Wade accompanied me. He received us in an eccentric manner,

under an open gateway leading to the palace. A piece of white cloth

was spread under our chairs instead of a carpet, and there were but

few of his Court in attendance. In compliance with a wish that I had

expressed, he produced the “Koh-i-noor” or mountain of light, one of

the largest diamonds in the world, which he had extorted from Shah

Shooja, the ex-King of Cabool. Nothing can be imagined more superb than

this stone; it is of the finest water, and about half the size of an

egg. Its weight amounts to 3-1/2 rupees, and if such a jewel is to be

valued, I am informed it is worth 3-1/2 millions of money, but this

is a gross exaggeration. The “Koh-i-noor” is set as an armlet, with a

diamond on each side about the size of a sparrow’s egg.

Runjeet seemed anxious to display his jewels before we left him; and

with the diamond was brought a large ruby, weighing 14 rupees. It had

the names of several kings engraven on it, among which were those

of Aurungzebe and Ahmed Shah. There was also a topaz of great size,

weighing 11 rupees, and as large as half a billiard ball: Runjeet had

purchased it for 20,000 rupees.

~Presents.~

His Highness, after assuring us of his satisfaction at a communication

having been opened with so remote a quarter of India as Bombay, as it

cemented his friendship with the British Government, then invested me

with a string of pearls: he placed a diamond ring on one hand, and an

emerald one on the other, and handed me four other jewels of emeralds

and pearls. He then girt round my waist a superb sword, adorned with a

knot of pearls. A horse was next brought, richly dressed out with cloth

of gold, and golden ornaments on the bridle and saddle. A “khilut,” or

robe of honour, composed of a shawl dress, and many other manufactures

of Cashmere were then delivered to me, as well as presents of a similar

nature for Mr. Leckie. Three of our attendants were likewise favoured

by his Highness; and in his munificence, he sent a sum of 2000 rupees

for distribution among the remainder of the suite. Maharaja Runjeet

then produced a letter in reply to the one which I had brought from his

Majesty’s minister, which he requested I would deliver. It was put up

in a silken bag, and two small pearls were suspended from the strings

that fastened it. It occupied a roll from four to five feet long. The

following is a verbal translation of the letter; nor will it escape

observation, that, with much which is flowery and in bad taste to a

European, there is some display of sterling sense and judgment. The

titles which I had the honour to receive from his Highness will not

pass without a smile.

_Copy of a Letter from Maharaja Runjeet Sing, to the address of his

Majesty’s Minister for the Affairs of India. Delivered on the audience

of Leave._

~Runjeet Sing’s reply.~

“At a happy moment, when the balmy zephyrs of spring were blowing from

the garden of friendship, and wafting to my senses the grateful perfume

of its flowers, your Excellency’s epistle, every letter of which is a

new-blown rose on the branch of regard, and every word a blooming fruit

on the tree of esteem, was delivered to me by Mr. Burnes and Mr. John

Leckie, who were appointed to convey to me some horses of superior

quality, of singular beauty, of alpine form, and elephantine stature,

admirable even in their own country, which had been sent as a present

to me by his Majesty the King of Great Britain, together with a large

and elegant carriage. These presents, owing to the care of the above

gentlemen, have arrived by way of the river Sinde in perfect safety,

and have been delivered to me, together with your Excellency’s letter,

which breathes the spirit of friendship, by that _nightingale of the

garden of eloquence, that bird of the winged words of sweet discourse,

Mr. Burnes_; and the receipt of them has caused a thousand emotions of

pleasure and delight to arise in my breast.

“The information communicated in your Excellency’s letter, that his

gracious Majesty the King of England had been much pleased with the

shawl tent of Cashmere manufacture, which I had the honour to forward

as a present, has given me the highest satisfaction; but my heart is so

overflowing with feelings of pleasure and gratitude for all these marks

of kindness and attention on the part of his Majesty, that I find it

impossible to give them vent in adequate expressions.

“By the favour of Sri Akal Poorukh Jee[13], there are in my stables

valuable and high-bred horses from the different districts of

Hindoostan, from Turkistan, and Persia; but none of them will bear

comparison with those presented to me by the King through your

Excellency; for these animals, in beauty, stature, and disposition,

surpass the horses of every city and every country in the world. On

beholding their shoes, _the new moon turned pale with envy, and nearly

disappeared from the sky_. Such horses, the eye of the sun has never

before beheld in his course through the universe. Unable to bestow

upon them in writing the praises that they merit, I am compelled to

throw the reins on the neck of the steed of description, and relinquish

the pursuit.

“Your Excellency has stated, that you were directed by his Majesty

to communicate to me his earnest desire for the permanence of the

friendship which has so long existed between the two states, and which

has been so conducive to the comfort and happiness of the subjects of

both. Your Excellency has further observed, that his Majesty hopes that

I may live long in health and honour to rule and protect the people

of this country. I beg that you will assure his Majesty, that such

sentiments correspond entirely with those which I entertain, both with

respect to our existing relations, and to the happiness and prosperity

of his Majesty and his subjects.

“The foundations of friendship were first established between the two

states through the instrumentality of Sir C. T. Metcalfe, a gentleman

endowed with every excellence of character; and after that period, in

consequence of the long residence of Sir C. T. Metcalfe in Hindostan,

the edifice of mutual amity and good understanding was strengthened and

completed by his attention and exertions.

“When the Right Honourable the Earl of Amherst came on a visit to

Hindoostan and the Simla Hills, the ceremonials and practices of

reciprocal friendship were so well observed, that the fame of it was

diffused throughout the whole country.

“Captain Wade, since his appointment at Lodiana, has ever been

solicitous to omit nothing which was calculated to augment and

strengthen the feeling of unanimity between the two powers.

“The Right Honourable Lord William Bentinck, the present

Governor-general, having arrived some time since at Simla, I took the

opportunity of deputing respectable and confidential officers, in

company with Captain Wade, on a complimentary mission to his Lordship,

with a letter enquiring after his health. These officers, after having

had the honour of an interview, were dismissed by his Lordship with

marks of great distinction and honour. On their return, they related

to me the particulars of the gracious reception they had met with,

the excellent qualities of his Lordship, and also the sentiments of

friendship and regard which he had expressed towards this state. These

circumstances were very gratifying to my feelings. Through the favour

of the Almighty, the present Governor-general is, in every respect,

disposed, like the Earl of Amherst, to elevate and maintain the

standard of harmony and concord subsisting between the two Governments;

nay, from his excellent qualities, I am disposed to cherish the

hope that he will be even more attentive to this subject than his

predecessor. Mr. Burnes and Mr. John Leckie, before mentioned as the

bearers of the presents from his Majesty, have extremely gratified me

with their friendly and agreeable conversation. The mark of kindness

and attention on the part of the British Government, evinced by the

deputation of these officers, has increased my friendship and regard

for it a hundredfold; a circumstance which, having become known

throughout the country, has occasioned great satisfaction and pleasure

to the friends and wellwishers of both states, and a proportionate

regret in the hearts of their enemies. All these particulars I hope you

will bring to the notice of his gracious Majesty.

“I am confident, that, through the favour of God, our friendship and

attachment, which are evident as the noonday sun, will always continue

firm, and be daily increased under the auspices of his Majesty.

“I have dismissed Mr. Burnes and Mr. John Leckie with this friendly

letter in reply to your Excellency’s, and hope that these officers

will, after their safe arrival at their destination, fully communicate

to you the sentiments of regard and esteem which I entertain for your

Excellency. In conclusion, I trust that, knowing me always to be

anxious to receive the happy intelligence of the health and prosperity

of his Majesty, and also of your own, your Excellency will continue to

gratify me by the transmission of letters, both from the King and from

yourself.”

(_True translation._)

(Signed) E. RAVENSHAW,

Depy. Pol. Secretary.

~Departure from Lahore.~

On presenting this letter his Highness embraced me; and begged I would

convey his high sentiments of regard to the Governor-general of India,

I then took leave of Maharaja Runjeet Sing, and quitted his capital of

Lahore the same evening in prosecution of my journey to Simla, on the

Himalaya Mountains, where I had been summoned to give an account of my

mission to Lord William Bentinck, then residing in that part of India.

~Umritsir; its temple.~

We reached Umritsir, the holy city of the Seiks, on the following

morning,--a distance of thirty miles. The intervening country, called

Manja, is richly cultivated. The great canal, or “nuhr,” which was

cut from the Ravee by one of the Emperors of Hindostan, and brings the

water for a distance of eighty miles, passes by Umritsir, and runs

parallel with the Lahore road. It is very shallow, and sometimes does

not exceed a width of eight feet: small boats still navigate it. We

halted a day at Umritsir, to view the rites of Seik holiness; and our

curiosity was amply gratified. In the evening we were conducted by the

chief men of the city to the national temple. It stands in the centre

of a lake, and is a handsome building covered with burnished gold.

After making the circuit of it, we entered, and made an offering to

the “Grinth Sahib,” or holy book, which lay open before a priest, who

fanned it with the tail of a Tibet cow, to keep away impurity, and to

add to its consequence. When we were seated, a Seik arose and addressed

the assembled multitude; he invoked Gooroo Govind Sing, and every one

joined hands;--he went on to say, that all which the Seiks enjoyed on

earth was from the Gooroo’s bounty; and that the strangers now present

had come from a great distance, and brought presents from the King of

England, to cement friendship, and now appeared in this temple with an

offering of 250 rupees. The money was then placed on the Grinth, and

a universal shout of “Wagroojee ka futtih!” closed the oration. We

were then clad in Cashmere shawls; and, before departing, I begged the

orator to declare our desire for a continuance of friendship with the

Seik nation, which brought a second shout of “Wagroojee ka futtih!”

“Khalsajee ka futtih!” May the Seik religion prosper! From the great

temple, we were taken to the Acali boonga, or house of the Immortals,

and made a similar offering. We were not allowed to enter this spot,

for the Acalis or Nihungs are a wrong-headed set of fanatics, not to

be trusted. In reply to the offering, the priest sent us some sugar.

The Acalis are clothed in turbans of blue cloth, which run into a peak:

on this they carry several round pieces of iron, weapons of defence,

which are used like the quoit. These bigots are constantly molesting

the community by abuse and insult, or even violence; a week does not

pass in the Punjab without a life being lost: but Runjeet suppresses

their excesses with a firm and determined hand, though they form a

portion of the establishment in a religion of which he himself is a

strict observer. He has attached some of the greatest offenders to his

battalions, and banished others. Our conductor, Desa Sing Majeetia,

father of our Mihmandar, a Seik of the confederacy, and a kind old man,

was very solicitous about our safety, and led us by the hand, which he

grasped firmly, through the assembled crowd. From the temple we made

the tour of Umritsir, which is a larger city than Lahore. This place is

the great emporium of commerce between India and Cabool. The traders

are chiefly Hindoos, before whose door one wonders at the utility of

large blocks of red rock salt being placed, till informed that they

are for the use of the sacred city cows, who lick and relish them. In

our way home we visited the Rambagh, the favourite residence of the

Maharaja when at Umritsir. His passion for military works also shows

itself here, and he has surrounded a pleasure garden by a massy mound

of mud, which he is now strengthening by a ditch.

~Beas or Hyphasis.~

At a distance of twenty-three miles from Umritsir, we came on the

Beas or Hyphasis of Alexander. The country is varied by trees, but

not rich, and the soil is gravelly. On the 21st we crossed the Beas,

at Julalabad, where it was swollen to a mile in width from rain. Its

current exceeded in rapidity five miles an hour; we were nearly two

hours in crossing, and landed about two miles below the point from

which we started. The greatest depth was eighteen feet. The boats used

in this river are mere rafts with a prow; they bend frightfully, and

are very unsafe; yet elephants, horses, cattle, and guns are conveyed

across on them. We passed in safety, but an accident, which might have

proved serious, befel us in one of the small channels of this river. It

was about thirty yards wide, and eighteen feet deep, and we attempted

the passage on an elephant. No sooner had the animal got out of his

depth, than he rolled over, and precipitated Mr. Leckie and myself

head-foremost into the water, wheeling round at the same time to gain

the bank he had quitted; Dr. Murray alone retained his seat: but we

were not long in regaining terra firma, without any other inconvenience

than a ducking. We did not again attempt the passage on an elephant,

but crossed on inflated buffalo skins supporting a framework.

~Kuppertulla. Seik Chief.~

~Fête.~

Our halting place was at Kuppertulla, ten miles from the Beas, the

estate of Futtih Sing Aloowala, one of the Seik chiefs, who was present

with Lord Lake’s army in 1805, when encamped in this vicinity. He is

yet a young man. He received us with great respect and kindness, and

sent his two sons to meet us as we approached. He came himself in the

evening on a visit, and on the following day, when we returned it, he

gave us a grand fête in his garden house, which was illuminated. The

display of fireworks was varied, and we viewed it with advantage from a

terrace. Futtih Sing is the person whom Sir John Malcolm describes in

his “Sketch of the Seiks” as requiring his dram, and years have not

diminished his taste for liquor. Immediately we were seated he produced

his bottle, drank freely himself, and pressed it much upon us; it was

too potent for an Englishman, but he assured us, that whatever quantity

we drank, it would never occasion thirst. We filled a bumper to the

health of the Sirdar and his family, and were about to withdraw, when

he produced most expensive presents, which could not in any way be

refused; he gave me a string of pearls, and some other jewels, with a

sword, a horse, and several shawls. Futtih Sing is an uncouth looking

person, but he has the manners of a soldier. His income amounts to

about four lacs of rupees annually, and he lives up to it, having a

strong passion for house building. Besides a board of works in two of

his gardens, he was now constructing a house in the English style, but

has sensibly added a suite of rooms under ground for the hot season.

When we left Futtih Sing, he urgently requested that we would deliver

his sincere sentiments of regard to his old friend Sir John Malcolm.

~Doab of the Sutlege.~

We made three marches from Kuppertulla to Fulour, on the banks of the

Sutlege, a distance of thirty-six miles, passing the towns of Jullinder

and Jumsheer. The former place is large, and was at one time inhabited

by Afghans. It is surrounded by a brick wall, and the streets are

paved with the same material. Jullinder gives its name to the “Doab,”

or country between the Beas and Sutlege, while the other Doabs are

named by compound words, formed by contracting the names of the rivers.

Between the Chenab and Behut, we have the Chenut; between the Ravee and

Chenab, the Reechna; and between the Beas and Ravee, the Barree. From

Jullinder to the banks of the Sutlege, the country is highly cultivated

and well peopled. All the villages are surrounded by mud walls, and

many of them have ditches to bespeak the once unsettled state of this

land. The houses are constructed of wood, with flat roofs covered over

by mud, and have a hovel-like appearance.

~Fulour.~

The town of Fulour, on the banks of the Sutlege, is the frontier post

of the Lahore Chief, and here we left our escort and Seik friends,

who had accompanied us from Mooltan. We distributed cloths to the

commissioned and non-commissioned officers, and a sum of 1000 rupees

among the men, which gratified all parties. The Maharaja continued

his munificence to the last, and, before crossing the Sutlege, he had

sent us no less than 24,000 rupees in cash, though we had declined

to receive the sum of 700 rupees, which had been fixed for our daily

allowance after reaching Lahore.

~Antiquities.~

Before I finally quit the Punjab, I must not omit a few particulars

regarding its antiquities, which must ever attract attention. It seems

certain, that Alexander the Great visited Lahore, and to this day the

remains of a city answering to Singala, with a lake in the vicinity,

are to be seen S.E. of the capital. The tope of Manikyala, first

described by Mr. Elphinstone, and lately examined by M. Ventura, has

excited considerable interest in the East. The French gentlemen were of

opinion, that these remains are of an older date than the expedition of

Alexander, for the coins have a figure not unlike Neptune’s trident,

which is to be seen on the stones at Persepolis. In my progress through

the Punjab, I was not successful in procuring a coin of Alexander,

nor any other than the Bactrian one which I have described; nor have

any of the French gentlemen, with all their opportunities, been so

fortunate. I am happy, however, in being able to state the existence

of two other buildings like the “Tope” of Manikyala, which have been

lately discovered among the mountains, westward of the Indus, in the

country of the Eusoofzyes. The opening of these may throw light on the

interesting subject of Punjab antiquities.[14] By the natives of this

country, the most ancient place is considered to be Seealcote, which

lies upwards of forty miles north of Lahore. It is said to be mentioned

in the Persian Sikunder Namu.

~Cross the Sutlege.~

At noon, on the 26th of August, we left Fulour and marched to Lodiana,

crossing the river Sutlege, or Hesudrus of antiquity. It is yet called

Shittoodur or the Hundred Rivers by the natives, from the number of

channels in which it divides itself. Where we passed, its breadth did

not exceed 700 yards, though it had been swollen two days before our

arrival. The greatest depth of soundings was eighteen feet, but the

average was twelve. It is a less rapid river than the Beas. The waters

of the Sutlege are colder than those of any of the Punjab rivers,

probably from its great length of course, and running so far among

snowy mountains. This river is variable in its channel, and often

deserts one bank for the other. The country between it and the British

Cantonment of Lodiana, is intersected by nullas, one of which, that

runs past the camp, formed the bed of the Sutlege fifty years ago.

This river is generally fordable after November. Lord Lake’s army

crossed it in 1805, two miles above Lodiana; but the fords vary, and

the watermen look for them annually before people attempt to cross, as

there are many quicksands. When the Beas falls into the Sutlege, the

united stream, called Garra, is no longer fordable. The boats of the

Sutlege are of the same description as those on the Beas: there are

seventeen of them at the Fulour ferry. The country between the Sutlege

and Lodiana is very low, which I observed to be a characteristic of the

left bank of this river, till it meets the mountains. One would expect

to find this depressed tract of ground alluvial, but it is sandy.

~Exiled Kings of Cabool.~

At Lodiana, we met two individuals, who have exercised an influence

on the Eastern world, now pensioners of the British, the ex-Kings of

Cabool, Shah Zuman, and Shah Shooja-ool-Moolk. The ceremonial of our

introduction to Shah Shooja corresponded nearly with that described

by Mr. Elphinstone; for, in his exile, this fallen monarch has not

relinquished the forms of royalty. The officers of his court still

appear in the same fanciful caps, and on a signal given in Turkish,

(_ghachan_, begone,) the guards run out of the presence, making a noise

with their high-heeled boots. The person of the Shah himself has been

so correctly described, that I have little to say on that subject.

In his misfortunes, he retains the same dignity and prepossessing

demeanour as when king. We found him seated on a chair in a shady part

of his garden, and stood during the interview. He has become somewhat

corpulent, and his expression is melancholy; but he talked much, and

with great affability. He made many enquiries regarding Sinde, and the

countries on the Indus, and said, that “he had rebuked the Ameers for

their suspicion and jealousy of our intentions in coming to Lahore.

Had I but my kingdom,” continued he, “how glad should I be to see an

Englishman at Cabool, and to open the road between Europe and India.”

The Shah then touched upon his own affairs, and spoke with ardent

expectations of being soon able to retrieve his fortunes. In reply to

one of his questions, I informed him that he had many well-wishers in

Sinde. “Ah!” said he, “these sort of people are as bad as enemies;

they profess strong friendship and allegiance, but they render me no

assistance. They forget that I have a claim on them for two crores of

rupees, the arrears of tribute.”

~Reflections.~

Shah Shooja was plainly dressed in a tunic of pink gauze, with a green

velvet cap, something like a coronet, from which a few emeralds were

suspended. There is much room for reflection on the vicissitudes of

human life while visiting such a person. From what I learn, I do not

believe the Shah possesses sufficient energy to seat himself on the

throne of Cabool; and that if he did regain it, he has not the tact to

discharge the duties of so difficult a situation.

~Shah Zuman.~

The brother of Shah Shooja, Shah Zuman, is an object of great

compassion, from his age, appearance, and want of sight. We also

visited him, and found him seated in a hall with but one attendant,

who announced our being present, when the Shah looked up and bade us

“Welcome.” He is stone blind, and cannot distinguish day from night; he

was as talkative as his brother, and lamented that he could not pass

the remainder of his days in his native land, where the heat was less

oppressive.

Shah Zuman has lately sunk into a zealot: he passes the greater part

of his time in listening to the Koran and its commentaries. Poor man,

he is fortunate in deriving consolation from any source. When taking

leave, Shah Zuman begged I would visit him before quitting Lodiana, as

he was pleased at meeting a stranger. I did not fail to comply with his

wishes, and saw him alone. I had thought that his age and misfortunes

made him indifferent to all objects of political interest; but he

asked me, in a most piteous manner, if I could not intercede with the

Governor-general in behalf of his brother, and rescue him from his

present exile. I assured him of the sympathy of our government, and

said, that his brother should look to Sinde and the other provinces

of the Dooranee empire for support; but he shook his head, and said

the case was hopeless. After a short silence, the Shah told me that

he had inflammation in the eyes, and begged I would look at them. He

has suffered from this ever since his brother caused him to be blinded

with a lancet. As he has advanced in years, the organ seems to have

undergone a great change, and the black part of the eye has almost

disappeared. It is impossible to look upon Shah Zuman without feelings

of the purest pity; and, while in his presence, it is difficult to

believe we behold that king, whose name, in the end of last century,

shook Central Asia, and carried dread and terror along with it

throughout our Indian possessions. Infirm, blind, and exiled, he now

lives on the bounty of the British Government.

~Journey to the Himalaya.~

After a ten days’ recreation at Lodiana, where we mingled once more

with our countrymen, we prosecuted our journey to Simla, on the

Himalaya mountains, a distance of about 100 miles, which we reached in

the course of a few days. We here beheld a scene of natural sublimity

and beauty, that far surpassed the glittering court which we had

lately left:--but my narrative must here terminate. At Simla we had

the honour of meeting the Right Honourable Lord William Bentinck, the

Governor-general of India; and his Lordship evinced his satisfaction

at the result of our mission, by entering at once into negotiations

for laying open the navigation of the Indus to the commerce of Britain,

a measure of enlightened policy, considered both commercially and

politically. I had the honour of receiving the following acknowledgment

of my endeavours to elucidate the geography of that river, and the

condition of the princes and people who occupy its banks.

~Conclusion.~

“Delhi, 6 December, 1831.

“Political Department.

“TO LIEUT. ALEXANDER BURNES, &c. &c. &c.

“Sir,

“I am directed by the Right Honourable the Governor-general to

acknowledge the receipt of your several letters, forwarding a memoir

on the Indus, and a narrative of your journey to Lahore.

“2. The first copy of your map of the Indus has also just reached

his Lordship, which completes the information collected during your

mission to Lahore, in charge of the presents from the late King of

England to Maharaja Runjeet Sing.

“3. The Governor-general, having perused and attentively considered

all these documents, desires me to convey to you his high approbation

of the manner in which you have acquitted yourself of the important

duty assigned to you, and his acknowledgments for the full and

satisfactory details furnished on all the points in which it was the

desire of government to obtain information.

“4. Your intercourse with the chiefs of Sinde, and the other Sirdars

and persons with whom you were brought into contact in the course of

the voyage up the Indus, appears to the Governor-general to have been

conducted with extreme prudence and discretion, so as to have left

a favourable impression on all classes, and to have advanced every

possible object, immediate, as connected with your mission, as well as

prospective; for, while your communications with them were calculated

to elicit full information as to their hopes and wishes, you most

judiciously avoided the assumption of any political character that

might lead to the encouragement of false and extravagant expectations,

or involve you in any of the passing intrigues. The whole of your

conduct and correspondence with the chiefs of the countries you

passed through in your journey, has the Governor-general’s entire and

unqualified approbation.

“5. In like manner, his Lordship considers you to be entitled to

commendation for the extent of geographical and general information

collected in the voyage, and for the caution used in procuring it, no

less than for the perspicuous and complete form in which the results

have been submitted for record and consideration. The map prepared by

you forms an addition to the geography of India of the first utility

and importance, and cannot fail to procure for your labours a high

place in this department of science.

“6. The result of your voyage in the different reports, memoirs, and

maps above acknowledged, will be brought without delay to the notice

of the authorities in England, under whose orders the mission was,

as you are aware, undertaken. His Lordship doubts not that they will

unite with him in commending the zeal, diligence, and intelligence

displayed by you in the execution of this service, and will express

their satisfaction at the manner in which their views have been

accomplished, and the objects contemplated in the mission to Lahore

fully and completely attained.

“I have the honour to be, &c.

(Signed) “H. T. PRINSEP,

“Secretary to the Governor-general.”

FOOTNOTES:

[13] God.

[14] My journey to Bokhara made me better acquainted with these topes,

as has already appeared in Vol. I.

A

MEMOIR ON THE INDUS,

AND

ITS TRIBUTARY RIVERS

IN

THE PUNJAB.

NOTICE

REGARDING

THE MAP OF THE INDUS.

A new map of the Indus and Punjab Rivers from the sea to Lahore seems

to require some notice explanatory of its construction, and I have to

offer the following observations on that subject:--

The River Indus, from the southern direction in which it flows in its

progress to the ocean, presents few difficulties to the surveyor,

since an observation of latitude serves to fix the daily progress

in the voyage, and its comparatively straight course admits of easy

delineation. The map rests on a series of observations by the stars.

I should have preferred altitudes of the sun; but, with a people so

suspicious as we encountered, it was impossible to use an instrument in

daylight, and I should have required to halt the fleet twice to procure

equal altitudes, since the sun was south of the equator during the

voyage. Many of the large places, such as Tatta, Sehwun, Ooch, Mooltan,

&c., where we necessarily halted, have been laid down from a mean of

eight or ten stellar observations.

The longitude and general delineations in the curvature of the river

rest on a minute protraction of its turnings, observed with care

every half hour, and sometimes oftener, with the approved compass by

Schmalcalder. The attention given to this important portion of the

undertaking may be imagined, when I state that my field books exhibit,

on an average, twenty bearings each day from sunrise to sunset. I was

early enabled to rate the progress of the boats through the water, by

timing them on a measured line along the bank, and apportioned the

distance to the hours and minutes accordingly. We could advance, I

found, by tracking, or being pulled by men, at one mile and a half an

hour; by gentle and favourable breezes at two miles, and by violent

winds at three miles an hour; while any great excess or deficiency was

pointed out by the latitude of the halting place.

The base on which the work rests, is the towns of Mandivee and

Curachee: the one a seaport in Cutch, and the point from which the

mission started; the other a harbour in sight of the western mouth of

the Indus, which we saw before entering the river. Mandivee stands in

the latitude of 22° 50´, and Curachee in 24° 56´ north; while their

longitudes are respectively in 69° 34´, and 67° 19´ east, as fixed, in

1809, from the chronometers of the Sinde mission by Captain Maxfield.

Assuming these points as correct, the line of coast intermediate to

them has been laid down from my own surveys in Cutch; while that of

Sinde rests on observations of the sun’s altitude at noon and the

boats’ daily progress, determined by heaving the log hourly. We sailed

only during the day, and at all times along shore, often in a small

boat, and were attended by six or eight pilots, who had passed their

lives in the navigation of those parts.

The great difference in the topography of the mouths of the Indus, from

what is shown in all other maps, will no doubt arrest attention; but

it is to be remarked, that I call in question no former survey, since

the river has been hitherto laid down in this part of its course from

_native information_; and I can bear testimony to the correctness of

such portions of the Indus as were actually traversed by the mission

of 1809. From the jealousy of the Government of Sinde, we had to

pass up and down the coast no less than five times, which gave ample

opportunities to observe it; and I have a strong fact to adduce in

verification of the chart as it now exists. On the third voyage we

ran down so low as the latitude of 20° 30´ N., and were out of sight

of land for six days. At noon, on the last day (17th of March), while

standing on a due northerly course, I found our latitude to be 23°

50´, or a few miles below that mouth of the river which I had resolved

to enter. I immediately desired the pilots to steer a north-easterly

course for the land. We closed with it at sunset, a couple of miles

above Hujamree, the very mouth of the Indus I wished to make. At

daylight we had had no soundings in fifty fathoms, at seven A.M. we had

bottom at forty-two fathoms, and at eleven in thirty-four. By two in

the afternoon we were in twenty-one fathoms, and at dusk anchored in

twelve feet of water, off Reechel, having sighted the land at half past

four.

In delineating the Delta of the Indus below Tatta, I have not only

had the advantage of sailing by a branch to that city, but approached

it on land by one route, and returned by another. I also ascended the

Pittee, or western mouth of the Indus, for thirty miles. The opposition

experienced from the Sinde Government gave rise to these variations

of route: they long tried to impede our progress; but the result of

their vacillation has happily added to our knowledge of their country,

in a degree which the most sanguine could not have anticipated. In

addition to my own track, I have added that of the Sinde mission, from

Curachee to Hydrabad, and thence to Lueput in Cutch. My own surveys in

Cutch, which extend high up the Koree, or eastern branch of the Indus,

together with every information, compel me to place the Goonee or

Phurraun River (which is the name for the Koree above Ali bunder), in

a more westerly longitude than in the maps hitherto published. Sindree

and Ali bunder lie north of Nurra in Cutch, so that the river cannot

extend so far into the desert as has been represented.

From Hydrabad upwards, and, I may add, in all parts of the map, the

different towns rest on the latitudes as determined by the sextant.

Most of them are in a higher parallel than in the maps, but it was

satisfactory to find, on reaching Ooch, that the longitude of that

place, as taken from my own protraction, coincides pretty well with

that which has been assigned to it by Mr. Elphinstone’s surveyors, who

must have fixed it from Bhawulpoor. This was not the case with Bukkur;

but, as the latitude of that place was twenty-two minutes below the

true parallel, I have reason to be satisfied with the result above

stated. I likewise found that the Indus receives the Punjab rivers at

Mittun, in the latitude of 28° 55´, instead of 28° 20´ north, as given

in the map of the Cabool mission: but no one can examine that document

without acknowledging the unwearied zeal of its constructor, and

wondering that he erred so little when he visited few of the places,

and had his information from such sources.

The Punjab rivers have been laid down on the same principle as the

Indus. The Chenab (Acesines), which has been erroneously styled

Punjnud, after it has gathered the other rivers, is very direct in its

course; but the Ravee (Hydräotes), on the other hand, is most tortuous,

and appears in its present shape after incredible labour for twenty

days spent in its navigation. The latitude of its junction with the

Chenab, and that of the city of Lahore, which stands in 31° 35´ 30´´

north, and in 70° 20´ east longitude, have materially assisted me in

the task. I have also placed the confluence of the Jelum, or Behut

(Hydaspes), with the Chenab, twelve miles above the latitude in which

it has hitherto stood. The survey eastward terminates on the left bank

of the Sutledge (Hesudrus), with the British cantonment of Lodiana,

which I find stands in 30° 55´ 30´´ north latitude. I have used the

longitude of the latest and best map, and placed it in 75° 54´ east.

With the Indus and Punjab Rivers, I have embodied a survey of the

Jaysulmeer country, which was finished in the year 1830, when I visited

Southern Rajpootana with Lieut. James Holland. The province of Cutch,

with the configuration of the Run, rests on my own surveys made in the

years 1825, 1826, 1827, and 1828.[15]

FOOTNOTE:

[15] Instead of giving separate maps of the Indus and Central Asia, I

have now combined the whole of the geographical matter in one map, as

has already been explained.

MEMOIR OF THE INDUS.