BOMBAY.
Early on the morning of the 11th of August, 1812, we first made the
coast of Asia; and, on steering towards the shore, discovered, close
under the land, a single sail, as white as snow, of a cut quite new to
our seamanship, and swelled out with the last faint airs of the
land-breeze, which, in the night, had carried us briskly along shore.
As we came nearer, we observed that the boat, with her head directed
to the northward, was piled half-mast high with fruits and vegetables,
cocoa-nuts, yams, plantains, intended evidently for the market of
Bombay. The water lay as smooth as that of a lake; so we sheered close
alongside, and hailed, to ask the distance we still were from our
port. None of the officers of the Volage could speak a word of
Hindustanee; and I well remember our feeling of humiliation when a
poor scullion, one of the cook's assistants, belonging to the
governor's suite, was dragged on deck, with all his grease and other
imperfections on his head, to act as interpreter. Sad work he made of
it; for, though the fellow had been in the East on some ten or twelve
former voyages, the languages of the countries he visited had not
formed so important a part of his studies as the quality of the arrack
and toddy which they produced. The word Bombaya, however, struck the
ear of the native boatmen, who pointed in the direction which they
themselves were steering, and called out "Mombay! Mombay!" This word,
I am told by an oriental scholar, is a corruption of Moomba-devy, or
the Goddess of Moomba, from an idol to which a temple is still
dedicated on the island. Others, less fanciful in their etymology, say
that the Portuguese gave it the name of Bom-Bahia, on account of the
excellence of its Port. That nation held possession of Bombay from the
year 1530 to 1661, when it was ceded by the crown of Portugal in full
sovereignty to Charles II.
It was not long before we came in sight of several headlands. When the
next day broke, and the sun rose upon us over the flat topped Gauts or
mountains of the Mahratta country, I remember feeling almost at a loss
whether I had been sleeping and dreaming during the night. But the
actual sight of the coast gave reality to pictures which, for many a
long year before, I had busied my fancy with painting, in colours
drawn partly from the Arabian Nights and Persian Tales, and partly, if
not chiefly, from those brilliant clusters of oriental images which
crowd and adorn the pages of Scripture.
Captain Cook asserts somewhere, speaking of the delights of voyaging
and travelling, that to such rovers as he and his companions nothing
came amiss; and I can safely venture to boast, that, as far as this
goes, I may claim a corner of my great brother officer's mantle. At
all events, in sailing over the Indian seas, or travelling in those
countries by land, I hardly ever met anything which did not so much
exceed in interest what I had looked for, that the grand perplexity
became, how to record what I felt, or in any adequate terms to
describe even the simplest facts which struck the eye at every turn in
that "wide realm of wild reality."
Of all places in the noble range of countries so happily called the
Eastern world, from the pitch of the Cape to the islands of Japan,
from Bengal to Batavia, there are few which can compare with Bombay.
If, indeed, I were consulted by any one who wished as expeditiously
and economically as possible to see all that was essentially
characteristic of the Oriental world, I would say, without hesitation,
"Take a run to Bombay; remain there a week or two; and having also
visited the scenes in the immediate neighbourhood, Eliphanta, Carli,
and Poonah, you will have examined good specimens of most things that
are curious or interesting in the East."
For this remarkable distinction, peculiar, as far as I know, to that
one spot on the earth's surface, this presidency is indebted to a
variety of interesting circumstances. Bombay is an island, and by no
means a large one, being only between six and seven miles long by one
or two broad. It is not, however, by geographical dimensions that the
wealth of towns, any more than the power and wealth of nations, is
determined. The harbour unites every possible desideratum of a great
sea port; it is easy of access and egress; affords excellent anchoring
ground; is capacious beyond the utmost probable demands of commerce;
and, owing to the great rise and fall of the tides, is admirably
adapted for docks of every description. The climate is healthy; and
the country, being diversified by numerous small ridges and hills,
furnishes an endless choice of situations for forts, towns, bazaars,
and villages, not to say bungalows or villas, and all sorts of
country-houses, and some very splendid retreats from the bustle of
business. The roads which intersect this charming island were
beautifully Macadamised, as I well remember, long before that grand
improvement was heard of in England; and as the soil of the island is
made up of that rich kind of mould resulting from decomposed basalt or
lava, the whole surface affords a good sample of the perennial verdure
of tropical scenery, which dazzles and surprises the new-comer, while
its interest seldom fails to rise still higher upon a more prolonged
and intimate acquaintance.
Such are among the eminent physical advantages enjoyed by Bombay; but
even these, had they been many times greater, would have been light in
the balance compared to those of a moral, or rather of a political
nature, which conspired in 1812 to render it one of the most important
spots in that quarter of the globe. At the time I speak of, it was
almost the only possession exclusively British within several hundred
miles in any direction. The enormous territory of the Mahrattas lay
close to Bombay on the east.
On the morning after my arrival at Bombay, I got up with the first
blush of the dawn, and hastily drawing on my clothes, proceeded along
greedily in search of adventures. I had not gone far, before I saw a
native sleeping on a mat spread in the little verandah extending
along the front of his house, which was made of basket-work plastered
over with mud. He was wrapped up in a long web of white linen, or
cotton cloth, called, I think, his cummer-bund, or waist-cloth. As
soon as the first rays of the sun peeped into his rude
sleeping-chamber, he "arose, took up his bed, and went into his
house." I saw immediately an explanation of this expression, which,
with slight variations, occurs frequently in the Bible, in connection
with several of the most striking and impressive of Christ's miracles,
particularly with that of the man sick of the palsy. My honest friend
the Hindoo got on his feet, cast the long folds of his wrapper over
his shoulder, stooped down, and having rolled up his mat, which was
all the bed he required, he walked into the house with it, and then
proceeded to the nearest tank to perform his morning ablutions.
I remember mentioning this, amongst many other illustrations of the
incidents recorded in Scripture, to a worthy old Scotch lady, upon
whom I expected it to produce the same pleasing and satisfactory
effect which it had wrought on me. I made, however, a great mistake;
for so far from raising myself in her estimation, on the score of
correct observation, I sunk, I fear, irrecoverably, in her good
graces, by presuming, as she alleged, to interfere with the wonder of
the miracle, the essence of which, according to her, I discovered to
consist, not in the recovery of "the man, who was made whole," but in
his being able to shoulder a four-post bed, and carry it off without
inconvenience!