Life and Travel in India

AUTHOR.

PREFACE.

In the following pages, gathered from voluminous notes of early travel, I have tried to give a faithful account of life in India, as well as of the sights and scenes visited by me, with my husband, before the days of railroad travel.

It is well known that the introduction of the railroad into India has in no sense affected the life of the people, and has only very slightly modified the general appearance of the country. India is still what it was in the Vèdic period, a land of peasant classes; she still invokes, as did the ancient Aryans in the Rig Vèda, the Khe-tra-pati, or the divinity of the soil, for blessings on the land. The Hindoo to-day lives, as did his forefathers, close to the heart of Nature, deifying the mountains, streams, woods, and lakes, while the sun, moon, stars, fire, water, earth, air, sky, and corn are his highest deities. The most beautiful personification in the Ramâyânâ of womanly grace and virtue is called Sita, a furrow, showing how deep was the national reverence paid to the plough; and to this day at the Rathsaptimi, the day on which the new sun is supposed to mount his heavenly chariot, a feast is observed in honor of the sun, and the ryots on this occasion decorate with flowers and paint their ploughs, and worship them as the saviors of the land.

I do not, however, mean to say that India has made no progress whatever in all these years—her imaginative and glorious youth has no doubt been succeeded by the calm reason of mature age—but this transition has been gradual and progressive rather than fitful and sudden.

The transfer of India by the East India Company to the British Crown, and the recent laws for the protection of the ryot—or more properly the raiyat, a leaser of land held in perpetuity—against the oppressions of the zemindars, or governmental landlords, with the right of underletting the land, have to an extraordinary degree awakened the inborn desire of the Hindoo to become possessor of the soil and to return to his hereditary occupation of agriculture. To these may be added the security which England has conferred upon India, now that she is no longer disturbed by frequent wars, which desolated the land, and every now and then forced the people to abandon their villages and fly to the jungles and mountains for safety, under the Afghans, Mohguls, Mahrattas, and other predatory chiefs. Among the lasting benefits to India it may be mentioned that sutteeism, infanticide, self-immolation to the idols, Thuggism, and slavery have all been partially, if not quite, abolished by the strong arm of the law. Railroads have been built, the country has been opened, schools established, civil service appointments thrown open to the natives and Europeans alike, good roads made, canals and huge reservoirs for water excavated, ancient water-courses reopened, giving an impetus to private enterprise and industry in every direction. All these happy changes have been the result of the more liberal policy of England toward India since the days of the terrible mutiny of 1857; and it may fairly be hoped that British India has before her as glorious a future as her brilliant youth and maturity have foreshadowed for her.

A. H. L.

Sunnyside, Halifax, Nova Scotia,

August 7, 1884.

LIFE AND TRAVEL IN INDIA

CHAPTER I.

The Island of Bambâ Dèvi.—Sights and Scenes round about Bombay.

In that most delightful of all Indian months, the cool month of November, with the distant booming of a great gun that announced its arrival, the steamer from Aden came to anchor in the harbor of Bombay, bringing me among its many passengers. Here I was in this strange land, a young girl fresh from school, now entering upon a life so different, one which I was to lead through a long term of years.

The sun shone through the mists and haze of the early dawn, and I could see from my cabin window, with a sense of mingled wonder and curiosity, the great stone quays and the long flights of stone steps which led to the beautiful island of Bombay, lying there like a gem in the water, and of which I knew nothing whatever, save that it was once the marriage-dowry of a queen of England.

According to some authorities, it takes its name from two Portuguese words, Buon Bahia, Good Bay; but in reality it has a still more ancient origin, being called after a very beautiful Hindoo queen, afterward deified as Bambâ Dèvi, who long before the days of Alexander the Great was the presiding genius of the land. She was worshipped as Mahimâ Dèvi, or the Great Mother, in one of the oldest and largest Hindoo temples which formerly stood in the great plain now called the Esplanade. It was pulled down about a hundred years ago, and rebuilt near the Bhendee Bazaar, and is to this day called by her name and set apart to her peculiar service.

The longer I looked on that bay, and on those ancient islands with their towers and spires, both pagan and Christian, gleaming in the pure morning sunlight, the more I felt that it was one of the loveliest scenes in the world and one of the best worth admiring.

The harbor is not only one of the safest known to navigators from all parts of the world, affording in its hollow rock-bound cup entire shelter from sudden storms to vessels of all burthens, large and small crafts of every imaginable size and color, but it is in itself a bit of landlocked water unrivalled in picturesqueness, furnishing a variety of beautiful views at every point, and, one might almost say, at every passing moment.

Its peculiar interest, however, depends much on the season of the year, the brightness of the lights, the softness of the shadows, and the picturesque character of the numberless native boats, which, with their well-filled lateen sails, skim like white sea-birds on the surface of the waters.

The islands of Salsette, Elephanta, and Versovah, abounding in luxuriant vegetation, rise like huge green temples out of the bay. A great part of its beauty, however, is derived from the singularly shaped hills that are found in its vicinity. Old as the world, they appear to have gone through the hands of some gigantic architect—some so exquisitely rounded, some regularly terraced, and others, again, sharply pointed, not unlike spires. Lifting themselves proudly above the broad glittering sea that bathes their palm-fringed base, they help to make the scenery distinct from that of any other bay in the world. Then, beyond question, there is nothing to equal in grace and beauty the palm forest. The cocoanut, the sago, the betel, the date, the wild plantain, and the palmyra, all cluster in such profusion here and there along the seashore that the whole seems too beautiful to be real, and you half expect to see the island melt away like a dream before you.

While I look on from the cabin window things take clearer shape and form. Far away is the dim outline of the mighty Ghauts, towering amid soft fleecy-white clouds, and extending farther than the eye can reach in the purple distance. The striking views of the adjoining mainland, with ruins innumerable of chapels, convents, and monasteries erected by the Portuguese conquerors, all covered with a rich tangle of tropical foliage; the strange shapes of pagan temples, each in its own peculiar style of architecture, Hindoo, Parsee, Jain, and Mohammedan; the noble remains of the old Mahratta[1] forts and castles, which in former days were the habitations of the famous Rajpoots, with a long line of native and European palaces,—gradually unfold themselves under the golden haze of an Indian atmosphere.

One sees in no other part of the world just such an assemblage as the passengers on an Indian-bound steamer. In the vessel that took me to Bombay the most touching object to my mind was a young married woman, who was looking anxiously out for her husband, a missionary in whose labors she was now about to share for the first time. He was weak, haggard, and spiritless, worn out, no doubt, by his combined efforts to acquire a foreign language, convince an obstinate people, and bear the enervating influence of a hot, muggy climate; all of which was enough to break down the stoutest of frames and the most hopeful of spirits that England has ever produced. A number of officers, civil and military, some in light-brown coats of China silk and wide-brimmed straw hats, others in frogged blue frocks and military caps, were seen pressing through the crowd. A young cadet just out rushed into the open arms of a handsome officer, like himself, but older by twenty or thirty years. The deck was being fast cleared of its eager crowd. Everywhere the passengers were separating amid almost sad adieux, enlivened only by the oft-repeated promises to write to each other regularly—promises which are never fulfilled. On the great continent of Asia all nations meet and hail each other as friends, only to part, perhaps never to meet again, as vessels do at sea. But we were all sincere enough at the moment, which is all that can be expected from travellers scattering over the vast unknown land of India. I remember I was very greatly troubled because I was about to part from a gentle, blue-eyed young friend, a frank, bright, innocent young Scotch girl, who had become very dear to me during the most tedious and sultry part of our voyage from Aden to Bombay.

We were thrown a good deal together, and were almost of the same age. One day, while passing through the Red Sea, we exchanged vows of eternal friendship. There was on board a sprightly young officer, Ensign W——, to whom she was already secretly betrothed. Why secretly she would not confide to me, or perhaps explain even to herself, for every one on the vessel knew it, and of her naturally tender and loving disposition, as well as of her peculiarly lonely position on board, being sent out under the charge of the captain. I only know that I shared her happiness and her anxiety, for she would have to break the news almost immediately to her father, whom she was expecting momentarily on board. She informed me that her father was a widower—that she had come out to India expressly to keep house for him in some remote inland province somewhere in Guzerat.

At last her father appeared on board, a fat, sun-burnt, frowzy-looking man, and inquired from the captain as to which was his daughter, in order to assert his ownership over her. Instead of rushing to greet a father, she shrank back and nervously clutched my arm; and it was not strange. She had not seen him for many years; in the mean time her mother had died, her little brothers and sisters had all died in their infancy; she alone had survived, and had been sent home to Scotland, where she had been educated by an aunt. Here, then, she was alone in the presence of an almost entire stranger, although he was her father; and this is not an isolated case, but the fate of the thousands of European children who are born in India.

No blood-relationship avails anything in such cases. The mysterious sanctities of a young girl's nature, be they more or less profound, interpose themselves as barriers between father and daughter at the best of times and under the happiest of circumstances. Those dim nooks and corners of her budding sentiment can only be reached by a mother, so justly called the mediator in the most ancient language of the heart.

Years after I learned that my young Scotch friend had married Ensign W——, the young officer to whom she had engaged herself on her voyage out to India. But in one short year after her sweet blue eyes were closed for ever on this world. She died in giving birth to a daughter, who sleeps side by side with her young mother in the quiet little European burial-ground at Deesa, a British station on the confines of the great province of Guzerat.

Very little was known about India until Alexander the Great led his conquering army across the Punjaub (or, more properly, Panch jeeb, or five tongues, from the five rivers that water this portion of Northern India) to the banks of the Hydaspes and the Hyphasis. The armies of Alexander had hitherto visited no country which was so fertile, populous, and abounding in the most valuable productions of nature and art as that portion of India through which they marched. Fortunately for the Greeks, Alexander had with him a few men who were admirably qualified to observe and describe the country. At the mouth of the Indus the army and fleet of Alexander parted company. The troops proceeded by land. Nearchus took charge of the ships, sailed down the Indus, and from its mouth, round the southern coast of Asia, to the mouth of the Euphrates. The results of his observations during the voyage were taken down and preserved. This expedition, undertaken 325 B .C., furnished a vast amount of information in regard to India, its extent and wonderful resources. Rome and most of her prosperous and civilized provinces were also very familiar with the silks, brocades, fine muslins, gems of great value, spices, and many other manufactures and products of the remote East. The Latin name of rice, Oryza sativa, is derived from the country, Orissa, whence the Romans first obtained it. During the so-called Dark Ages which followed the subversion of their Western Empire the trade with India was greatly diminished, though it never entirely ceased in parts of Europe, especially as some of the productions of the East had been consecrated to the services of the Roman Catholic ritual, and have ever since continued in request with the Christian churches of Greece and Rome. Even in the remote island of Great Britain, and in the semi-barbaric Saxon period, some of the precious spices and scented woods of India had been carefully treasured by the Venerable Bede and his co-laborers in their bleak northern monastery at Jarrow. In fact, at the very dawn of European civilization, under the good and wise Alfred the Great, English missionaries are said to have found their way to the coast of Malabar.

The great seat of Eastern trade was, down to the eleventh century, the city of Constantine the Great. Amalfi, Venice, and many other enterprising Italian republics acquired about this time great commercial importance, owing to their Eastern trade, which they extended to Egypt and the Persian Gulf.

In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries some of the more adventurous Italians found their way to various parts of Hindostan. One of these, the famous Marco Paulo, has given to the world much curious information about the regions which lie between the Himalaya Mountains, the Indian Ocean, and the numerous islands bordering on the Celestial Empire and on India proper.

The first European traveller who has given us an account of the country near the island of Bombay was an Italian friar named Odoricus, who passed nearly a month at Tana—or more properly Thanah—where four of his family fell victims to the intolerant spirit of the natives, and suffered martyrdom. His narrative was published in Latin in 1330 A. D. by William de Solanga. The first Englishman who visited the western coast of India was Thomas Stephens, of New College, Oxford. He reached Goa in October, 1579, and in the year 1608 Pryard de Laval mentions him at the time as rector of a college at Salsette.

It was during the early career of the famous Zehir-ed Deen Mohammed, a descendant of the renowned Genghis-khân, and the founder of the so-called Mohgul dynasty, better known by his common name of Bâber, or the Tiger, that the Portuguese, whose maritime discoveries were beginning to produce an important revolution in the commercial world, succeeded in accomplishing their long-desired object of finding a passage by the Cape of Good Hope to India. In the year 1498, just ten months and two days after leaving the port of Lisbon, Vasco da Gama landed on the coast of Malabar at Calicut, or more properly Kale Khoda, City of the Black Goddess. Calicut was at that period not only a very ancient seaport, but an extensive territory, which, stretching along the western coast of Southern India, reached from Bombay and the adjacent islands to Cape Comorin. It was, at an early period, so famous for its weaving and dyeing of cotton cloth that its name became identified with the manufactured fabric, whence the name calico. The dyeing of cotton cloths seems to have been in practice in India in very remote ages. Pliny as early as the first century mentions in his Natural History that there existed in Egypt a wonderful method of dyeing white cloth. It is now generally admitted that this ingenious art originated in India, and from that country found its way into Egypt. It was not till toward the middle of the seventeenth century that calico-printing was introduced into Europe. A knowledge of the art was acquired by some of the servants in the service of the Dutch East India Company, and carried to Holland, whence it was introduced in London in the year 1676.

The town of Calicut, though repeatedly burnt and destroyed by Portuguese and Mohammedan conquerors, still stands, as it has done for many hundreds of years, on the seashore, in a somewhat low and exposed position, possessing neither a river nor any harbor within several miles of it, so that ships are compelled to cast anchor five or six miles from the landing-place, almost in mid-ocean. Its want of a convenient harbor does not seem to have detracted from its commercial importance. At the very beginning of the Eastern trade, when Constantinople was attracting to itself all the commerce of the East, Calicut was visited by vessels from Asia Minor, Egypt, and Arabia. It was so well known to the Arabians that in the seventeenth century a fanatical sect of Mohammedans named Moplahs immigrated to Calicut, and entered with great success into the commercial life of the city, and occupy in it, even to this day, a most important place, carrying on a very profitable trade between Calicut, the Red Sea, the Persian Gulf, and various parts of India, its chief exports being rice, cocoanut, ginger, cardamoms, and sandal- and teak-wood. At the time of the landing of the Portuguese, Calicut is described as a fine city, with numerous magnificent buildings, among which a Brahmanical temple and college are especially mentioned, so remarkable were they for their size and architectural adornments.

It would be out of place to enter into particulars of the long struggle that ensued, or the disgraceful acts of treachery and cruelty that attended the conquests of the Portuguese. It will suffice to say that in a very few years they were firmly established in the south of India. Having possessed themselves of the large maritime city of Goa, they formed a regular government, headed by a viceroy appointed by the king of Portugal. They soon turned the trade of Hindostan and the Deccan into new and more profitable channels, thus depriving the Venetians, Genoese, and many other nations of all the advantages derived from their long-established European commerce between the Persian Gulf, the Red Sea, Egypt, and the Mediterranean Sea. From that time the Italians began to decline in wealth, influence, and prosperity until the close of the sixteenth and in the beginning of the seventeenth century, when the English, Dutch, and French, sailing round by the Cape of Good Hope, began to appear upon the scene. No sooner was this accomplished than the Portuguese, who had monopolized the commerce with Europe during the sixteenth century, lost (almost as rapidly as they had acquired it) their immense influence in the East.

In 1585, Thomas Cavendish, one of the boldest and most adventurous navigators in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, had accomplished successfully a two years' voyage round the world. Among other places, he had visited and explored the spice islands called the Moluccas, but his discoveries resulted in no permanent benefit to the British traders. In the year following an English expedition consisting of three vessels, under the command of Captain Raymond, was sent out to India, but its object was rather more warlike than commercial, as it was intended to cruise against the Portuguese. Sickness, shipwreck, and other disasters overtook the vessels; Captain Raymond, one of the most spirited men of his time, was lost without even having seen the Eldorado of his dreams, and Captain Lancaster, his second in command, returned home a sad and almost ruined man. Francis Drake, afterward knighted by Queen Elizabeth for his many remarkable exploits at sea, succeeded in capturing five Portuguese vessels laden with the rich products of India. These, with the successes of the Levant Company and the accumulating information obtained from private sources, contributed to keep alive the excitement and to increase to an inordinate degree the desire of English traders and merchants for a more immediate participation in the Eastern commerce. Nevertheless, the ambition and jealousy of the British merchants were not fully aroused until they heard that the Dutch in 1595 had fitted out and despatched four ships to trade with India.

Then the British merchants immediately set to work. A fund was raised by subscriptions of a number of individuals amounting to £30,133 6s. 8d., a company was formed, and a committee of fifteen able men was elected to manage it, which was the origin of the East India Company. On the 31st of December, 1600, just two hundred and eighty-four years ago, a royal charter of privileges was granted, conditionally for fifteen years, to the company. By means of this charter, and furnished with letters from Queen Elizabeth to various Eastern rajahs, who were probably unconscious of her existence, a squadron of five ships sailed on the 2d of May, 1601, from Torbay. It was placed under the command of Captain Lancaster, the companion of the unfortunate Raymond. Fortune now appeared to favor the brave Lancaster. The very first place which he and his crews visited was Acheen in the island of Sumatra. Owing to the fact that Northern Sumatra had already been repeatedly visited by European travellers, among whom were Marco Paulo, Friar Odoricus, and Nicolo Conti, Captain Lancaster was remarkably well received by Alaudin Shah, the then reigning sovereign; and, to add to his good fortune, while cruising in the Straits of Malacca he succeeded in capturing a large and heavily-laden Portuguese vessel having on board a cargo of fine calicoes, spices, and some of the fine gold for which Acheen was then celebrated. Thus unexpectedly enriched, he sailed away, and, entering the Straits of Angeer, landed at Bantam in the island of Java, where he established an agency—the first germ of the great East India Company's factories—and returned in safety to England in the autumn of the year 1603. For many years following the trading vessels of the East India Company made successful voyages to many of the best-known islands in the Indian Ocean, realizing immense profits, and returning home to enrich the company to such an extent as to excite the jealousy of the British government, which vainly attempted to limit the privileges of the royal charter granted to it by Queen Elizabeth. Not many years after the success of the company was assured by a firman of the great Mohgul emperor, confirming to them certain privileges, and, above all, authorizing their establishment of factories at some of the most important ports of Hindostan.

The Dutch, who had dispossessed the Portuguese of their factory in Amboyna, one of the largest of the spice islands in the Molucca group, now began to regard the English traders with much jealousy. These, only eighteen in number, had established themselves in a defenceless house in town, trusting to the agreements and treaties they had made with the Dutch traders. The Dutch invited them in a friendly manner to pay a visit to their castle, fortified and garrisoned by two hundred men. The unsuspecting English had no sooner entered the castle than they were seized, put to the rack and torture, and ten of the number, holding out firmly to the last, were put to death.

During the memorable conflict between Charles I. and the Parliament nearly all foreign enterprise flagged. Distracted by the great civil war that followed, the East India Company sank into comparative inaction. But no sooner was the great Oliver Cromwell at the head of affairs than he reconfirmed the privileges of the company, and gave every encouragement to its trade; he also compelled the Dutch government to pay the sum of £300,000, together with a grant of one of the smaller spice islands, as some compensation to the descendants of those who suffered in the Amboyna massacre.

A new charter was granted to the company by Charles II. in 1661, in which, in addition to the old privileges, new and important ones were given to them. They were vested with the right of full civil jurisdiction and military authority over all Europeans in their employment, as well as with the power of making war and concluding peace with the infidels of India. In 1662, Charles II. married Catharine, princess of Portugal, who brought him a million pounds sterling and gifts of the island of Bombay and the fortress of Tangiers. In 1668, at the request of the company, Charles sold to them for a trifling sum of money the island of Bombay, granting to them shortly after the island of St. Helena, an equally convenient station for their merchantmen; and at length, induced by the defensible character of the island and its convenient and most commodious harbor, the company transferred from Surat to Bombay the seat of their government. Thus the island of Bombay became the presidency over all their settlements, and from that moment numerous Oriental nations were attracted to the island, commerce rapidly increased, the native town began to spread, and the foundation of a great empire in India was securely laid.

In no other part of the world are found so many races and peoples living side by side as in the island of Bombay. In the spacious streets and bazaars one meets Buddhists, Jains, Brahmans, Hindoos, Chinese, Musulmans (both Persians and Arabs), Seedees or Africans, Indo-Portuguese, Indo-Britons, Jews, Armenians, Afghans, Caucasians, Parsees, Americans, and Europeans of all nationalities. The most important of all these are undoubtedly the Parsees. They are as a class the richest, most industrious, and most honorable of all the native populations. They are the most extensive merchants and land-owners in the island; they share largely in foreign speculation both in the European and mercantile houses. They hold to two principles as indispensable to their permanent success and efficiency in trade: First, that every Parsee in any part of the Indian empire shall be subject to the established government, whatever it may be. By this means they diffuse a spirit of obedience and promptitude among their co-religionists, whether in India, Persia, China, or Egypt, and are at once able to secure the co-operation of one and every member of the faith in any emergency that may demand the combined efforts of the entire sect. Secondly, that every Parsee, no matter what the accident of his birth, is the equal of his more prosperous fellow-laborers.

The island of Bombay is separated from the mainland by an arm of the sea, and forms, in conjunction with the adjacent islands of Salsette on the north, Colabah and Old Woman's Island on the south, a magnificent and well-sheltered harbor. Handsome causeways raised above the sea at high water span the narrow channels on the south, and connect Bombay with two of the most picturesque islands I have ever seen. To the north, Bombay is again connected with Salsette by a causeway with a fine arched stone bridge, and yet another causeway has been thrown over the strait, so as to connect the great India Peninsular Railway with the mainland. Thus Bombay and the islands which surround it form a continuous breakwater extending from north to south for several miles. Toward the east lies the celebrated island of Elephanta; just opposite to the mouth of the harbor lies a thickly-wooded island of little elevation, with the exception of two remarkable projections which are shot upward almost perpendicularly from the level of the land, called Great and Little Caranja Hills.

One of our first drives was to the fort and town of Bombay. The latter is situated within the fort, and is almost a mile in length from the Apollo Gate to that of the bazaar, but hardly a quarter of a mile in its broadest part, from the Custom-house across the great Green to what is called Church gate. It is now called Fort George, and with its moats, drawbridges, and gateways is still in tolerably good repair. There are two gateways facing the beautiful harbor, having commodious wharfs and cranes built out from each, with a fine broad stone quay or landing-place for passengers. Passing through these gates, we visited the famous Bombay Castle, a regular quadrangle built of hard stone. In one of the bastions we saw a spacious reservoir for water. The fortifications are sufficiently formidable, and are frequently repaired, if not improved. Dungarree Hill, which commands the town, has now been included within the fort, by which accession the seaward points of the island are rendered extremely strong, the harbor being completely commanded by successive ranges of batteries placed one above the other. The Government House, a showy