burning fiercely. This is the burning ghat, where the dead bodies of
Hindoos are burned, and their ashes cast into the sacred Ganges. Every
Hindoo wishes for this, but only the rich can have their bodies carried
to Benares; for the poor it is impossible. Yet, if the poor Hindoo has
a faithful friend who is going on pilgrimage, this may, in some degree,
be accomplished. A frequent sight is that of a man earnestly pouring
into the water a stream of ashes from a brazen vessel. The ashes are
those of a friend who has died far from the sacred river, and have
perhaps been brought many hundreds of miles by the pilgrim.
[Illustration: BENARES. _Page 46_.]
And so our boat might move along the stream past ghat after ghat and
temple after temple, the steps packed with those who wish to bathe and
those who have bathed. The latter spread out their clothes to dry in
the sun, and sit near them, reciting prayers or reading sacred books or
in the perfect silence of deep meditation, their bodies rigid and
unmoving as figures cast in bronze. For miles this wonderful scene of
devotion stretches along the river, and the bank is crowned with a
broken line of minarets, domes, and towers, which rise against the deep
blue of the sky.
The first thing for a pilgrim to do is to bathe. After that he must make
the round of the city--a walk of about ten miles--and pay a visit to the
temples. The ten-mile walk is more easily done than the latter task, so
innumerable are the temples of the sacred place. Some, of course, are
more famous than others, and every one goes to see the Monkey Temple,
where offerings are made to a concourse of chattering monkeys; and the
holy Golden Temple, whose dome is plated with gold, and whose shrine is
always crowded with devotees. Near by is the Well of Knowledge, where
the god Shiva is said to live, and this well is half filled with flowers
thrown in as offerings to the god.
For twenty-five centuries Benares has been a holy city. Through this
vast stretch of time an unceasing throng of pilgrims has swept to it
across the great plain in which it lies. They bathe in the Ganges, and
visit the temples. Then they depart for their distant homes, satisfied
that they have set their eyes on the sacred places of their faith, and
in sweep fresh thousands to take the place of each departing band.
*CHAPTER XII*
*THE CAPITAL OF INDIA*
Below Benares the great river flows quietly on, ever widening as its
tributaries flow in on either bank, and watering as it goes vast
stretches of paddy-fields. Many pilgrims from the sacred city descend it
by boat as far as Patna, where they branch away to the south on a new
pilgrimage. They walk some ninety miles to Buddh Gaya, where Gautama
sat in deep meditation beneath the sacred Bo-tree, and became the
Buddha.
The place is held in the deepest veneration by the countless followers
of the Buddhist faith, and vast numbers come to this day to see and
worship at the temple built upon the spot. Behind the temple still
stands a pipal or Bo-tree, and the natives hold that this is the very
tree beneath which the great teacher sat.
As the Ganges approaches the sea through the plains of Bengal it is
joined by the mighty Brahmaputra, which has swept round the eastern end
of the Himalayas, and brought the waters of Tibet down to the bay. And
now the mighty stream begins to break up. The broad flood becomes
diverted to innumerable channels, and flows through an immense delta to
the sea. This delta is the huge, swampy flat of the Sunderbunds. The
Sunderbunds are very low, very unhealthy (for the swamps breed malaria),
and matted with tropical jungle. The tide flows in and the rivers flow
out, making an inextricable confusion of channels, creeks, canals,
waterways, of every shape, size, and direction. The water seems to flow
every way at once. The traveller is perhaps being rowed up a channel,
and his men are straining at the oars against a strong current.
Suddenly, without change of direction, the boat is swept forward on a
favouring stream. From some side creek a fresh current has poured in
unnoticed, and now bears the boat on.
In times of flood or high tide the low, muddy banks can no longer hold
the streams, and the whole country becomes a vast swamp. The damp soil
is hidden beneath masses of canes and reed and low-growing palms, and
when the feathery fronds cover the scene with a carpet of beautiful
green the prospect is very lovely. Among the brakes of this thick
jungle wild animals swarm in great numbers. Deer and wild-boars abound,
and the broad round marks of a tiger's pads are often seen in the mud
near a drinking-place. Enormous crocodiles haunt the pools and channels.
From the deck of a river-steamer these huge reptiles may often be seen
sunning themselves on a warm mud-bank. As the steamer draws near they
glide down the bank and vanish into the water. Between their footprints
a long, deep groove is left in the mud. This is made by the great tail.
The chief branch of the Ganges is the River Hughli, upon which stands
Calcutta, the capital of India. Calcutta is not the capital of India
because either of its beauty or position, but because of its immense
trade. It is the natural outlet for the riches of the vast plains of the
Ganges. Through it pour the vast stores of corn, of rice, of jute, of
tobacco, of tea, of a score of other things produced by those fertile
levels.
As regards position, the site of Calcutta is bad, for it lies on the
flat beside the river, with the swamps of the Sunderbunds on every hand.
The heats of summer are overpowering, and the Viceroy and his officials
fly to Simla, high up among the Himalayas. But in the cold season the
town is very gay and splendid. The European quarter is laid out on
noble lines. The streets are of great width with park-like gardens,
called compounds, on either side. In these compounds, filled with
flowers and trees, stand large and stately mansions, princely residences
such as befit the rulers of India.
The centre of Calcutta is the Maidan, or Park, a great open space beside
the broad river. On its western side stands Fort William, the building
of which was commenced by Clive in 1757. The original Fort William,
where stood the famous "Black Hole of Calcutta," was farther to the
north, and the site of the dungeon is marked in the roadway. A tablet
on a wall near at hand reads: "The stone pavement close to this marks
the position and size of the prison-cell in Old Fort William known in
history as the Black Hole of Calcutta."
At one end of the Maidan stands the stately Government House, where the
Viceroy of India dwells, and near it are many fine public buildings.
The great park is bounded by the splendid streets in which are found the
mansions of the European merchants, bankers, and officials, and the
Maidan is the scene of the fashionable evening drive.
North of the Maidan lies the native quarter, covering six square miles,
and packed with more than half a million people. The streets are
narrow, and the buildings are of no great interest. The bazaars are
worthy of the traveller's attention, not because they differ from
bazaars elsewhere, but because of the varied crowds of a vast variety of
tribes and nations which pour through this great centre of commerce.
*CHAPTER XIII*
*ACROSS THE DECCAN*
The southern part of India is shaped like a huge triangle, and within
its coasts lies a vast triangular plateau, the Deccan. In the fierce
heats of summer this huge tableland lies flat and grey beneath the
burning sun, save where there is water. Then village after village of
tiny huts thatched with palm-leaves cluster along the banks of river or
lake, and the water is lifted by every kind of ancient device and poured
over the thirsty land.
Water is all this rich soil needs. Given enough of the precious fluid,
the soil covers itself thickly with crops of cotton, tobacco, rice,
millet, saffron, and castor-oil plant. Everywhere the land swarms with
oxen, a sure sign of the people's wealth.
We are now in the territory of Hyderabad, the greatest native State in
India, ruled over by the Nizam, the chief native Prince. This capital
city lies towards the south of the State, and is one of the most
interesting cities in India, not so much for its beauty or its
buildings, but for its life and, above all, for its military population.
Hyderabad is the paradise of irregular troops, and it is also rich in
regulars. Of the latter there are some thousands of British troops, and
30,000 who serve the Nizam himself; of irregulars, no man knows the
number, for every noble and chief maintains a private army of his own,
just as our barons did in feudal times.
It follows, then, that the streets of Hyderabad bear the appearance of a
military camp. Every other man is armed to the teeth, and scarcely two
alike in weapons or uniform. A figure in turban and embroidered robes,
a girdle full of daggers, and a six-foot-long jezail over his shoulder,
is followed by a man in trim khaki, and the latter by a trooper in
burnished breastplate and helmet of polished steel. A lancer with long
spear swinging from his arm jogs by, and the next horseman carries a
great scimitar; and so the medley of figures and weapons passes
by--rifles and matchlocks, bayonets and tulwars, chain-mail and shields
of hide.
But among the swarms of irregulars, the Arab troops stand out by
themselves. The Nizams are Moslem rulers, and to provide themselves
with Moslem troops have done much recruiting in Arabia. The desert
warriors with their rough, stern, dark features, their spare, stalwart
frames, their robes of snowy white, their triple row of daggers across
their bodies, look very different from the gaily-dressed, olive-faced,
handsome soldiery who are native-born. The Arabs are as stern and rough
as they look. More than once they have got out of hand, and it has been
a question whether the Nizam ruled them or they the Nizam.
To the south-east of Hyderabad the province of Madras stretches along
the shore of the Bay of Bengal. This province is famous in the history
of British India. It saw the struggles between the English and the
French for the mastery of the land; it saw the victories of Clive which
raised him to power; it saw the rise of English authority. The chief
town is Madras, a large but not a striking city, especially when seen
from the sea. As the traveller approaches by steamer he sees a lofty
lighthouse, a few spires, rows of tall offices and public buildings, and
Fort St. George--nothing more. His vessel does not enter a bay, but a
roadstead; for Madras lies upon an open stretch of coast which is at
times swept by hurricanes of terrible fury. Yet, in spite of this
situation, Madras ranks as the third port of India, and has a great
trade. Some protection is now given to vessels by a couple of
breakwaters forming a harbour.
The most interesting place in the city is Fort St. George, for here the
East India Company first gained its footing in India in 1639. The fort
was begun in the same year, and this was the first step taken in the
path which led to British supremacy in India.
The native part of the city is known as Black Town, and is a dense mass
of poorly-built native houses crowded along narrow streets, and thickly
packed with Hindoo inhabitants. The European suburbs lie to the west o
Black Town, and, as at other great centres, consist of fine mansions
standing in spacious compounds.
To the south of Madras lies a country containing cities where some of
the mightiest temples in India may be seen. Of these cities
Trichinopoli and its great temple of Srirangam may be taken as an
example. The temple of Srirangam is not merely, like the other temples
of Southern India, of immense size; it is the largest temple in India.
Its enclosure measures about half a mile each way. It stands on an
island in the River Cauvery to the north of Trichinopoli, and is a vast
building which must have cost immense labour and a huge sum of money.
The chief features of this mighty temple are the Hall of a Thousand
Pillars and the Horse Court, which forms the front of the hall. The
Horse Court consists of eight pillars carved into the figures of horses,
each pillar "representing a stallion standing on its hind-legs, its head
supporting a bracket coming forward from the pillar, and its fore-feet
resting on a monster attacked by the rider or on the shield of a
foot-soldier who is assisting in the attack. The horses stand in other
respects free from the pillars except at the tails, which are split, or
rather doubled, so that each horse has two tails, one sculptured on each
side of the pillar. The horses, the figures, and the columns behind are
carved from a single block of granite." So great is this temple that
lofty trees flourish in its enclosure, and it is said that the priestly
families who inhabit it number more than twenty thousand people.
[Illustration: NATIVE TROOPS. _Page 59_.]
In this part of India the fondness of the women for silver jewellery
seems to be greater than elsewhere, if that be possible. Not only are
they loaded with the usual rings, bracelets, armlets, and anklets, but
they pierce the nose in three places to adorn it with trinkets. In each
nostril a sort of brooch is fastened, and the centre of the nose is
pierced to insert a large ring, which hangs down over the mouth. A
large hole is opened in the lobe of the ear to hold a heavy ring as big
as a bracelet, and in one district a great ear-lobe is considered a mark
of beauty. It is said that women may be seen, the lobes of whose ears
have been stretched and pulled out in such a manner that the owner can
thrust her hand and wrist through the opening.
*CHAPTER XIV*
*AT THE COURT OF A NATIVE PRINCE*
An English traveller in India who enjoys the opportunity of paying a
visit to the Court of a native Prince, often gets a glimpse of a life
which has seen very little change for many hundreds of years. The
native Prince himself may be fond of slipping off to London or Paris,
where nothing marks him off from any other wealthy visitor save his dark
brown skin, but at home he keeps the state of his forefathers, and the
costume and customs of his Court may be just the same to-day as they
were when Saxon and Norman were fighting at Senlac.
A state function at such a Court, for instance, as that of the ruler of
Udaipur is a most splendid ceremony, and an English visitor of
consequence will attend it in the company of the British Resident. The
latter is the agent of the British Government. No native Prince is
allowed to exercise the absolute power his fathers once held. At every
native capital there is a residency, and here lives the man who is the
real power behind the native throne, the representative of the British
Raj.
The journey to the palace will be made upon elephants in howdahs carved
and gilded and hung with rich curtains. On the neck of the elephant
sits the driver in a bright dress, holding in his hand a short spear,
ending in a hook and a shining point. When the riders are seated in the
howdah, the driver urges the elephant forward with voice and spear, and
guides him through the streets. An elephant procession through the
streets of a native city is one of the noblest sights which can be seen
or imagined. Two by two the huge, stately beasts, with their ponderous
swaying stride, swing along between the rows of houses, whose gaily
adorned flat tops and terraces and balconies are crowded by spectators
in newly-washed robes of every colour which is bright, and fresh, and
gay. Here and there in the procession float glittering standards of
silk worked in gold and precious stones, and the gay dress of the
drivers, the richly-decorated howdahs, the splendid draperies which
almost conceal the great elephants, all shining and flashing in the sun,
present a wonderful picture of beautiful and stately movement.
As the procession draws near the palace the way is guarded by native
troops, and these exhibit another striking scene. Their ranks do not
present the monotony of Western uniforms. Each band of the Prince's
body-guard wears the dress of that part of his dominions whence it was
drawn, and a bewildering variety of garbs and arms may be seen. One
troop is dressed like the Saracens who fought in the Crusades. They wear
armour of chain mail and glittering steel helmets, and carry lances and
great curved scimitars. Next, the line is guarded by warriors in massive
turbans, clothed in robes of rich stuffs, and armed with sword, spear,
and shield, and with quaint firelocks slung over the shoulder. Next
stand men in gleaming breastplates, whose helmets are sharply pointed,
and whose girdles are stuffed with daggers and pistols. Others bear huge
maces or heavy axes, and, in fine, almost every weapon with which man
has ever waged war may be seen in the lines of stalwart warriors who
keep the way.
At the palace itself the outer halls are filled with the nobles and
chiefs who owe allegiance to the Prince. They are armed and equipped
like their followers without, but in more splendid fashion. Jewels
glitter and glow on great silken turbans; robes are stiff with gold and
costly embroidery; girdles are heavy with weapons, whose handles are
richly chased and set with diamonds and rubies; pearls and emeralds and
sapphires flash from necklet or armlet.
Through these the visitors pass on to inner halls, where they are
received by members of the reigning family and escorted to the hall of
audience.
Here, in a noble chamber, the Prince will be seated in state on a
splendid throne. On either side stand attendants, waving fans made of
feathers or of horsehair. The latter are only used to fan a Prince, and
are the emblems of sovereignty.
The English guests are seated on chairs, and the nobles and chiefs, who
have followed them into the room, seat themselves on the beautiful
carpets spread over the floor. All except the guests are barefooted,
for the native company have left their gilded slippers outside the
chamber.
The Prince and his guests converse, and very often presents are given
and offered--shawls, silks, brocade, or jewels. Perhaps nautch-girls
will come in and dance. They wear robes of shining gauze from head to
foot, and they dance with slow, graceful movements, often singing as
they move.
At last the Prince calls for essence of roses with the leaf of the
betel-nut, and this is the signal that the interview is over. Now the
guests will be conducted over the palace, to see the public rooms and
courts; but the zenana, the women's apartments, are never shown; nor is
the visitor supposed even to glance towards the lattices and trellised
windows, behind which the native ladies are probably having a good look
at him. The evening will close with a grand illumination and display of
fireworks, managed with the utmost skill. From a terrace, so placed that
the dark smooth mirror of a lake lies between himself and the
illuminations, the visitor looks upon a fairy scene. The pavilions, the
courts, the balconies, the lines of the palace itself, will be picked
out in points of fire, and the whole is mirrored in the water. Then the
fireworks leap into the sky--rockets, great globes of many colours,
fountains spouting golden fire, and pictures of forts outlined in flame
and firing heavy broadsides from mimic cannon. Finally the visitor
climbs the ladder set against the side of his elephant, while the band
blares out, "God Save the King," and goes home to dream of the wonderful
things he has seen, and to try to disentangle the host of pictures which
dance before his eyes when he reflects upon his visit to a native Court.
*CHAPTER XV*
*THE RELIGIOUS MENDICANTS*
India is the land of religious mendicants. They swarm in every part of
it; they are seen moving along the country roads and in the streets of
villages and towns; they flock around every shrine.
Some are simply wanderers; they have abandoned all earthly goods, have
left their homes, and taken their place among the poorest. Smearing
themselves with ashes, their only garment a wisp of rag--and this they
wear simply because the police will not let them go without it--they
ramble from holy place to holy place. "Naked, homeless, he eats only
when food is offered to him, drinks only from the cup of cold water
which is given in the name of the Lord."
Many of these men have been rich and powerful members of the society in
which they moved. Then a day came when they laid aside their robes of
muslin and silk embroidered with gold; they left their great houses
filled with troops of servants; without a word they slipped away from
wife, from children, from friends, and the place they had filled knew
them no more. They had gone to wander far and wide through the vast
plains, the mighty hills of India--strange, naked, wild-looking figures,
unwashed, unshorn, looking the veriest outcasts of the earth.
Why is this done? For this reason. They feel deeply the vanity of
earthly things; they believe that the more one can get rid of the needs
and the wants of the body, the nearer he will get to the Divine. So
they cast aside everything which pampers the body and makes this life
sweet, and forsake all things of this world in favour of prayer and
meditation.
It is not uncommon to meet a man who has the air of a naked, half-crazy
savage, and to find that man capable of arguing in the most able manner
on the highest topics. Mrs. Steel remarks: "They are often extremely
well educated. They will knock a false argument into a cocked hat with
easy ability. Some of them--these naked savages--will astonish you by
quoting Herbert Spencer; for even nowadays they are recruited from all
classes, and they belong by rights to the most thoughtful of each
class." Such men as these belong, of course, to the highest order of
the religious mendicants. The majority of their fellows are of a much
lower order, but one and all they practise poverty and live only upon
alms.
Many of them, of the fakir class, practise all kinds of self-torture
upon themselves. One, perhaps, has held up his arm above his head for
so many years that it is now immovable, and stands straight up from his
shoulder, thin and shrunken, and as stiff as a piece of wood. Another
has held his fingers close shut in his palm until the nails have grown
through the flesh and stand out at the back of the hand. A third has
lain for many years on a bed of spikes, until his skin, hard as horn,
renders so uneasy a bed no discomfort. There are fakirs who have not
stood upright once in forty years. They travel by crawling, and as
their cry rings along the village street, the pious hasten to bring them
a handful of rice or a cup of water. It would be useless to offer them
better fare; they would refuse it. An account is given of one fakir who
sat so long without moving at the foot of a tree that the roots grew
around him and fettered him to his place.
Many observers have been extremely puzzled by certain powers which these
fakirs possess. Fakirs have been seen to walk across a row of upturned
knife-blades, each blade sharpened to the keenest edge, yet no sign of
injury could be perceived on the naked foot. Another will climb a ladder
formed of a single pole, from the sides of which well-sharpened sickles
stand out to form the rungs. The fakir climbs to the top and descends.
He rests his naked hands and feet upon the keen edges, and no cut, no
mark can be seen; or he walks, still barefoot, over stones raised to
white heat in a furnace. These feats have been performed in the
presence of English gentlemen of high standing in the official
world--men who have taken such precautions that they were perfectly
certain that the feats were genuine--but they have been utterly unable
to explain how the things were done. And, finally, the fakir has
obtained such mastery of himself that he can be buried alive, being left
for a time in his living grave, and restored to life again.
*CHAPTER XVI*
*IN THE BAZAAR*
What is a bazaar in India? It is, first of all, the quarter where the
shopkeepers are gathered together, where the tiny shops stand in
close-packed rows on either side of the narrow ways, and whither all who
have money flock to spend it. But it is more than that. It is the
place to which those who have no money resort just as freely, for here
ebbs and flows in one unending flood the news, the rumours, the gossip
of the town and country.