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THE

ORIENTAL ANNUAL;

S i r\ X. i --A <x_

CONTAINING A SERIES OF

®ales, TLcgentrs, & historical Romances ;

THOMAS BACON, Esq., F.S.A.,

AUTHOR OF “ FIRST IMPRESSIONS, AND STUDIES FROM NATURE IN HINDOSTAN,”
ETC. ETC,

WITH

ENGRAVINGS BY W. AND E. FINDEN,

FROM

SKETCHES BY THE AUTHOR,

LONDON :

PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETOR, BV

CHARLES TILT, FLEET STREET.

1839.

ADVERTISEMENT.

IDS

07s

If

The favour with which the preceding volumes of the
Oriental Annual have been received has induced
the proprietors to spare no expense to render it still
more worthy of public approbation. In the present
volume an attempt has been made, by combining the
efforts of several of the most distinguished artists of
the day, to give greater variety to the illustrations
than was attainable by the employment of a single
pencil. It is unnecessary to do more than allude to
the beauty of the drawings finished by Clarkson
Stanfield, R. A., David Roberts, T. Creswick,
T. C. Dibdin, &c. &c., from the orginal sketches
of the Author, or to the admirable manner in which
they have been engraved under the skilful superin-
tendence of Messrs. William and Edward Finden.

With the same view to variety, the literary portion
of the work has been entrusted to Thomas Bacon,
Esq., F.S.A., whose delightful volumes, entitled “ First
Impressions and Studies from Nature in Hindostan,”
with all their freshness of remark and buoyancy of
feeling, received such warm commendation from the
best judges in the literary world.

Fleet Street, Sept. S, 1838.

Through successive brilliant periods of litera-
ture and intellectual discernment, during which
scarce a line of human character may have been
left untraced, or the most latent motives to action
unpenetrated by the keen glance of refined
judgment and critical scrutiny, the Author who
for the first time enters upon the field of letters—
while in very truth he dashes forward with head-
long zeal, hold and elate, because blind to his
peril — has been permitted to shelter his forces
under the breastworks of inexperience, diffidence
of his strength, and distrust as to the quality or
the sufficiency of his stores ; and his position has
remained unchallenged. Johnson has said, and
we readily admit, that “ the difficulty of the first

IV

ADDRESS.

address on any new occasion is felt by every man
in his transactions with the world : ” but the au-
thor of the following pages, who is not altogether
untried, ventures to submit that even greater dif-
ficulties than these press upon the man who,
having been once in action, has a true estimation
of the dangers to which he is exposed while he
is deliberately advancing upon the batteries of
public opinion. How frequently do we see im-
passioned Hope spring fearlessly onward upon
ground where cautious Experience treads with a
trembling foot.

It especially belongs to the present era of
literature to be adorned with men who, over-
stepping the narrow limits of mere scholastic
lore, read the history and the laws of nature
from her own most ample and instructive page.
In times of old, when the investigation of truth
was, to all ordinary capacities, barred by the
stern dogmas of the learned, planted as cen-
tinels in the very porch of knowledge, the
projectors themselves were ranging through-
out the labyrinths of fancy to the extreme
boundaries of possibility, gathering the wild
flowers of imagination, and delighting to lose

ADDRESS.

V

themselves in the intricate and luxuriant fo-
rests of poetic illusion ; but modern philosophy
has taught modern readers to use reason as
a clue by which they may safely pass the
mysterious enclosures of deceitful theory, and
traverse the broad fields of inquiry. It may
not be denied that the ancients were capable
of elevating the human intellect by the sub-
lime imagery of their poetry, and of exciting
it to action by the fire of their eloquence,
but the advance of knowledge has placed in
the hands of the present generation the touch-
stone of truth, and the nice test of critical
perception, by which every writer must expect
to be tried, and which he finds almost as for-
midable as the grim janitors above described.
The young author, however, may find some
encouragement in the words of an eminent
writer,* who has said, that “ he who is pene-
trating and ardent in the conduct of life will
probably exert a proportional force and inge-
nuity in the exercise of literary talents.” And
thus, whoever has already gained the credit
of the former, may, by perseverance, hope to

* Adams Ferguson, in his Essay on Civil Society.

VI

ADDRESS.

attain a measure of the latter, even though
he may be conscious of possessing neither
great vigour of intellect nor grandeur of ge-
nius.

The ability with which the foregoing volumes
of the Oriental Annual have been
conducted, and the popularity of the gen-
tlemen who jointly laboured to produce
them, forbid success to the present volume
should it fall short of its predecessors in art
or general interest ; and this consideration had
well nigh induced the Author to decline the
undertaking. Animated, however, by finding
the most distinguished artists of the day
ready to correct the errors of his pencil, and
hoping that he might secure the indulgence
of his readers by frankly acknowledging his
diffidence as to his literary capacity for such
a work, he ventured to think again before he
quite declined it. The question, still undecided,
occupied the Author’s meditations, as he turned to
consult D’Israeli’s Curiosities of Literature, with
a determination to weigh dispassionately all which
is therein so persuasively urged against the prac-
tices of “ Authors of moderate capacity.” There

ADDRESS.

Vll

however, in a single passage of “ The Good Ad-
vice of an old Literary Sinner,” he found matter
sufficient for a decision in accordance with his
own wishes, though at variance with the argu-
ment. Even so keen a critic as Gilles Menage
is represented as having found pleasure in the
miserable productions of the Abbe de Marolles,
purely for the sake of their embellishments , and
the singular neatness of their bindings . By virtue
of these extrinsic advantages then, if a superior
merit be denied, the Author admits a hope that
he may still reap some favor.

Natural historians have said that birds, and
other animals which prey upon the insect tribes,
may be observed to select and pursue the most
splendid of their victims in preference to the less
beautiful. All who have travelled in the Himala
Mountains must have remarked with admiration
the brilliant array of colours exhibited by t]ie
Leaf-butterfly , when on the wing ; and possibly
have watched, with suspended breath, its daz-
zling flight from tree to tree, and from rock
to rock, as it has flitted on in zig-zag course,
striving to elude the pursuit of its insa-
tiate enemy, the Fly-catcher; until, at last,

Vlll

ADDRESS.

perchance when quite exhausted, it has suddenly
vanished among the dried branches of a leafless
tree, and the bewildered bird, as if by magic
art, is, in a second, cheated of his prey, while
he darts his searching glance from side to side,
unmindful of a certain decayed leaf which, in his
hot pursuit, he has apparently brushed from the
bough, and which falls to the earth unnoticed
among those already scattered there. A word or
two will explain. Nature, who has greatly mul-
tiplied the perils of this little insect’s life by so
superbly decking it with crimson and purple
and green and gold, in gorgeous combination,
most fascinating to the Fly-catcher, has not
neglected to provide it with means of escape the
most subtle and the most admirable. The under
surface of the wing is so exquisitely pencilled in
imitation of a dead leaf, that not even the
closest ocular scrutiny can detect the fraud ; and
no less care and design are displayed in the
structure of the body, which as nicely resembles
a small stem or twig, to which the leaf is
attached. Thus, when closely pursued, the
Leaf-butterfly will seldom fail of escape by
closing its wings and taking advantage of this
deception.

ADDRESS.

IX

Now the Author is sensible that in his flight
he can avail himself of no such manoeuvre. His
gayest plumage is upon the surface, and should
his wings, when expanded, prove, in public esti-
mation, no better than a dead leaf, alas ! his
adventitious ornaments will hut the more
certainly attract notice, and bring down the
merited persecutions of the critic.

P. S. — By way of introduction to this new
series of the Oriental Annual, it was at first
intended to devote a volume exclusively to the
illustration of the many picturesque and roman-
tic islands, and to the sublime coast-scenery
which delight the eye and the curiosity of the
voyager to India. This, indeed, would have
furnished material for a- book of a most novel
and useful kind; many places of exceeding
interest remaining to this day unknown, except
as chance may have rendered them notable in
history, or by literary description of a very
vague sort, such as may be found in a gazetteer.
But though novelty and utility were in favour of
this design, the Author could not but feel that
he should be losing his footing upon the proper

X

ADDRESS.

soil of the work by displacing those peculiar
characteristics, the preservation of which must
be the chief aim and the essential merit of his
task. It was, therefore, determined that, in
each successive volume, only one or two such
subjects should he admitted ; the rest, as here-
tofore, being of a strictly Oriental character.
He had good reason to congratulate himself
upon this decision, when he found his province
suddenly invaded by the spirit of his defunct pre-
decessor, which, though lately risen from “the
vasty deep,” wears a garb and semblance so life-
like, that it might possibly have imposed upon
the confidence of the faithful readers of the
Oriental Annual, and have usurped possessions
which are the indisputable right of the proprie-
tors of this Volume.

Bath, August 29, 1838.

T. B.

ENGRAVINGS

FROM

Brafomgs tig tf)e most eminent Artists,

AFTER

SKETCHES BY THOMAS BACON, ESQ., F.S.A.

SUBJECT. ENGEATEE. PAINTER.

the moti musjid (frontispiece ) . . w. finden . . d. Roberts.

TEMPLE AT KUNKHl’l ( vignette ) . E. FINDEN. . D. ROBERTS.

TERCEIRA . . E. FINDEN . . H. WARREN.

PEAK TENERIFFE R. WALLIS . C. STANFIELD, R.A.

RUINS AT MONEA E. FINDEN . . T. C. DIBDIN.

SAHADUT ALl’S PALACE E. FINDEN . T. C. DIBDIN.

MUSJID AT GHAZIPORE W. FINDEN . . T. C. DIBDIN.

TEMPLE OF GENESA, BENARES . . T. JEAVONS . T. C. DIBDIN.

RUINS AT ETTAIAH E. FINDEN . . C. STANFIELD, R.A.

THE FORT OF AGRA J. H. KERNOT. C. STANFIELD, R.A.

SHRINE OF MOHUMMED KAHN . . . E. FINDEN . . T. C. DIBDIN.

RUINS AT FUTTEHPORE SIKRI . . W. FINDEN . D. ROBERTS.

RUINS NEAR BIANA E. FINDEN . . T. CRESWICK.

GHAT AND TEMPLE AT GOKUL . . R. WALLIS. . D. ROBERTS.

THE GREAT TEMPLE, HURDWAR . . W. FINDEN . . T. C. DIBDIN.

TEMPLES OF MAHADEO ..... E. FINDEN. . T. C. DIBDIN.

THE GHAT, HURDWAR ...... J. REDAWAY . T. C. DIBDIN.

JUMNOUTRI AND THE CONE ... J, APPLETON . T. CRESWICK.

THE

ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

TERCEIRA.

In reviewing certain passages of our past lives, we
may all be more or less sensible of the operation of
many extraneous agencies which, independently of our
predispositions and temper, have exercised a secret
influence over the pleasure or the dissatisfaction with
which we have regarded any particular scene or inci-
dent. Perchance, we know not why, our anticipated
raptures have declined into cold admiration or indif-
ference,-when viewing the most exquisite scenery; our
delight in a favourite study, or a favourite pastime,
has flagged, without any obvious cause, when we had
fancied ourselves best prepared for its enjoyment ; or,
under similar auspices even the chosen beauties of the
poet may have failed to shake the leaden slumber from
our sympathies. Of these external influences, the state
of the heavens and the atmosphere appear to exert the
most universal power, and we are sometimes astonished

B

2

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

to discover with how many fictitious attractions the
imagination has bedecked those scenes which have
been witnessed in bright and smiling weather : espe-
cially we perceive this in looking back upon the
scenes of our past lives, when the accidental shadows
which may have chequered the scene are almost
lost in distance, or are made to reflect the bright
colours and the sun-lit effect of the rest of the pic-
ture. Whether or not sun and sky have the chief
merit in conjuring up the brilliant images which
crowd upon my memory at the bare mention of the
Azores, I will not enquire ; nor is it of any impor-
tance to the reader to be informed ; since the same
delight-inspiring agents are at hand, nearly all the year
round, to welcome each successive visitor, and to give
him the benefit of their attendance. Should it be
otherwise, there is little fear that the eastern voyager
will be able to denounce me as a flatterer ; since, in
dull or stormy weather, the cautious skipper will
prefer the open ocean to the narrow channels between
the islands.

I have never met with any person who could deny
that these islands are beautiful ; and yet their iron -girt
and cinerous cliffs, o’ertopped with rugged mountains,
with only here and there a peep at the fertility within,
hold out little promise of hospitality to the stranger ;
more especially when it is discovered that every acces-
sible point is defended by strong batteries perched up

TERCEIRA.

3

among the rocks. ’Tis true that now and then a pretty
town opens to view in the snug shelter of a rounded
bay, and glimpses are had of vineyards, orchards,
and gardens, which promise good fare and pleasant
entertainment; nor, if he tarry, will the stranger find
himself deceived ; for, within the impregnable coast,
the inhabitants are as hospitable as the country is
beautiful and fertile. Terceira, being the principal
island, has been selected as the subject of this sketch,
and the description attempted will give a correct idea
of the others, there being a great similarity in their
general aspect and productions ; except only Pico,
which is a monstrous volcanic cone upwards of seven
thousand feet high.

I do not think I can better illustrate the scenery,
or bring more powerful evidence in support of my
foregoing remarks, than by presenting the reader
with a few selections from the journal of a friend
who passed many months among the islands ; and
the very enthusiastic and poetical manner in which
he apostrophizes them will evince the justice of my
eulogiums. He says; “ Nature hath never, in capri-
cious mood, called into life a brighter cluster than
these foundlings of sun and ocean. Their magic
number gives them to the muses, and each would
furnish classic realm for a daughter of Mnemosyne.
In triplet groups they spring from the deep sea, and,
laughing out upon the wide expanse, speak to the
b 2

4

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

heart in tones so fresh and joyous, so full of life and
beauty, that he must be insensible indeed who could
pass on his way without a wish to linger.

“ Beautiful islands ! Many years have passed since,
faint in the distance, I first descried the dim blue haze
which marked your position ; since, more near, I
gazed on the bright green hills and valleys, the glit-
tering houses, the spire and dome of church and
palace, which greet the wanderer’s approach to Ter-
ceira ; but even now, in dreamy thought, your bright
hues and varied outlines rise in soft repose before me.

“ Circling round and round with untiring music, how
wildly yet gently play the waves, dashing their rain-
bow spray on every side ! while, ever and anon, with

‘ feigned abuse

Such as perplext lovers use/

or rather with a fond mother’s restless love, chafed that
she cannot lavish more treasure from the unmeasured
depths of her affection, the Atlantic heaves her
troubled bosom, while her murmurs are echoed back
upon the breeze from the deep caverns of the beet-
ling coast.

“ As the vessel slowly beat up, the city and surround-
ing country became gradually more distinct ; the
pointed architecture, the pure white walls, and pyra-
midal red-tiled roofs stood out in sharp relief ; and
presently the nearest houses showed the painted
lattices — carefully closed, to seclude all within from the

TERCEIRA.

5

sun’s rays or the prying eye. At last the entire little
city lay before us, stretching down to the crescent bay,
bristled with turretted walls and forts. A high em-
battled castle stands far above the town, and the spires
of the cathedral, and gilded roof of the palace, sparkle
in the sun beneath. On every side the cross-sur-
mounted convents, the walls, and streets, tower above
each other in picturesque confusion, while the lofty
range of hills, which form the background, sweep
boldly upwards, and gird the city round with a huge
bulwark, such as Nature alone can rear or destroy.”
There is little or no protection for shipping in the
harbour of Angra against the prevailing south-west
winds, as we found to our annoyance ; for we had
scarcely completed the necessary preparation for
bringing the vessel to an anchor, before a stiff breeze
springing up in that quarter convinced our Captain
of the expediency of putting out to sea again. The
word “ helm’s-a-lee” was given a second too late ; the
ship missed stays, and we found ourselves drifting
with a strong current upon the rocky and precipi-
tous foot of Monte Bresil. A kedge anchor was let
go just in time to save us, and having manned the
boats, we lost no time in effecting a landing. Our
eager party hurried up the long flight of steps lead-
ing from the quay, joyous indeed again to find a
steady footing. We wandered through the town,
every sense delighted with the novelty and foreign
aspect of the place. The closed jalousies, the care-
b 3

6

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

fully screened balconies, with their little trap-door-like
windows, where perchance a glimpse might he caught
of some dark-eyed daughter of Eve, inheriting, if
not all her parents beauty, at least her curiosity —
the gay costume of the men, their swarthy olive-
tinted countenances, bearing little trace of slavery in
their expression, and still less in their manly forms
or erect and graceful figures — the sombre apparel
and shadowy outline of the fairer sex, closely enve-
loped in the black hood and mantilla of the Tras as
Montes , passing and repassing with slow and mea-
sured step, as if at once to challenge and defy the
stranger’s curiosity — the jargon of song and salutation
in a foreign tongue — the groups of loaded cattle, and
the yoked oxen rudely attached to cars of a most
primitive construction — and then the peculiar “ Iss- —
st ! ” subdued, yet quite intelligible, passed from balcony
to balcony, or to the loungers in the street below —
these, and many other sights and sounds, united to
complete a scene so charming in its novelty, that no
faculty was left unoccupied.

The scorching sun, now blazing upon our heads
with mid-day force, reflected too by the dazzling white
of every house, placed us in a cross fire, too hot for
long endurance, and compelled us to seek shelter
beneath the roof of a British merchant, who hospi-
tably vouchsafes to every Englishman a privilege
which he appears to enjoy in every land except old
England; that of paying extravagantly and feasting

TERCEIRA.

7

poorly. After exploring many unsightly passages,
we penetrated a steep and dirty alley, and discovered
the delectable refuge which we sought — not an hotel
— the name would have been resented as an indignity
by the inflated host, the proud vendor of all things
vendible, from a yard of cloth to a cargo of oranges.
In the limited commerce of Terceira, wholesale and
retail dealings are usually in the same hands, and thus
the meanest shopkeeper, among other immunities,
enjoys rank among the trading aristocracy of the land,
and, of his own proper right, rejoices in the title of
merchant.

Having seen most of the lions in Angra, we were
tempted by the beautiful weather and want of occupa-
tion to plan an excursion through the interior of the
island. The Villa de Praya, upon the opposite coast,
was selected as our destination, and one of the resi-
dents, upon whom we had prevailed to act as our
guide, promised us an excellent day’s sport. There
are two roads from Angra to Praya; the lower one
winding round the hold projecting headlands of the
coast, the other leading through a varied succession of
cultivated and waste lands, direct across the mountains.
The latter was preferred, and having braced our nerves
against sun and heat, we turned short up the precipi-
tous mountain side which girds in the little capital,
and speedily reached the summit, amply rewarded for
our pains by the glorious scene around. Turning
inland, we lost sight of the ocean, and descended upon

8

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

the uncultivated districts. The distance before us was
about five leagues, over a road, if such it may be called,
formed of lumps of lava, scorise, and cinders, in some
places wedged together in huge masses, and in others
covered with roughly broken fragments, which the
islanders had strewed (probably to fill up some
impracticable chasm) with an utter contempt of the
principles of Macadamization.

After crossing two or three chains of mountains,
now dipping low into the narrow valleys, and again
breasting the abrupt side of the opposite ridge, we
reached an open elevated platform, whence we looked
down upon a wide-spread basin, extending from
hill to valley, from valley to plain, but girt in on
all sides by dark volcanic heights, whose gloomy
aspect appeared to lower in frowns upon the rash
intruder. The steeps are dotted here and there with
a few dark and stunted firs, starting at solitary
intervals from the blackened heather, which is every
where intersected with broad beds of barren waste,
overspread with volcanic matter, piled in cumbrous
heaps upon the scorched soil, and exhibiting the most
monstrous and fantastic forms, as if but recently cast
forth by some terrible convulsion. There they stood
in the same wild and gloomy confusion in which
they were uplifted from the hidden gulfs below,
or showered down upon the plain in the fierce storm
and tumult of eruption. Down the rough and
blighted sides of the mountains the course of the

TERCEIRA.

9

consuming lava was distinctly seen, as though the
fiery flood had scarcely ceased to welter through its
tortuous channels. Over the rocks and lava in the
immediate foreground a dank grey moss had spread
itself; a noisome vegetation which detracted not from
the desolation of the scene — proclaiming, like the
whitened locks of age, “ here no more shall youth or
freshness he ! ”

The chill melancholy of the scene entered the
heart ; no sound or movement broke upon the painful
stillness, which spoke of death rather than repose.
As we toiled onwards scarcely a word was spoken ;
indeed, from the moment we had first looked down
upon this unearthly wilderness, all attempts at con-
versation had given way to a dropping fire of half-
pronounced ejaculations. Before, behind, to the east,
and to the west, we were surrounded by these myste-
rious and awe-inspiring objects, which dispersed every
ray of joy and merriment from our party. But the
spell which bound us was broken in a second of
time; a sudden exclamation of joyous relief burst
from each as we successively surmounted the crest
of the hill, and beheld expanded before us the bright
blue waters of the Atlantic, cheerful with light and
life, whose sound and movement were alone sufficient
to dispel our gloomy mood.

Words are not for strong emotions, and are seldom
voluntarily resorted to ; the mind appears instinc-
tively to be sensible of their weakness; they are for

10

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

the business of life, and not for the more secret
mysteries of our nature, which, while they concen-
trate and absorb, are too deep and too subtle to he
brought at will to the surface, and made tangible.
Perhaps the much quoted saying of the late Prince
of Diplomatists may be true in a more hidden sense
than is displayed in its ordinary acceptation, that
the chief, that is the common, use of words is to
disguise the thoughts — for how seldom do we find
words capable of truly rendering the more refined
and abstract reasonings of the mind, the profound
emotions of the heart. If then words fail to convey
a true reflection of these, they serve but to disguise
that which they are intended to portray.

The summit of the farthest range over which our
route lay was at last attained, and down its undulating
sides, beautiful and gay with verdant slopes and
richly flowered hollows, we beheld once more the
handiwork and the dwellings of man ; far, far below
us, in a smiling cultivated valley, lay the pretty little
town of Praya, its white houses, out-topped by the
sombre monastic piles, stretching to the very edge
of the fortified bay. In this snug village, shut out
by sea and mountain from all the world, what was
our surprise to receive the warm welcome of a resident
English physician ! The cheerful benevolence of his
countenance and his frank demeanour alike belied
our first suspicion that some wayward misanthropy
had led him to this secluded retreat; but our good

TERCEXRA.

11

host informed us that he had sought in Praya a peace-
ful enjoyment of health and of life’s blessings, without
which, and contentment of heart, there is indeed little
joy in our existence ; and these elements of happiness
he assured us he had discovered even in the absence
of all luxury, I had almost said of civilization.

The day after our arrival at Praya had been fixed
upon for our sporting excursion ; we therefore rose
with the dawn, and having partaken of a substantial
breakfast, we mustered our forces and set forth, declin -
ing the services of a guide, upon the strength of the
prowess we had exhibited the previous day. It was
agreed that we should direct our steps towards a lake
some few miles distant, where we had been assured
that woodcocks and snipe were in great abundance,
and guerillas and bandits were supposed to be some-
what less numerous, they having been hunted out
by the local authorities but a short time before.

Our path first led along giddy precipices, which
descend almost perpendicularly, a thousand feet
and more, to the beach below. The vast flights
of sea birds, now soaring above, now circling midway
down the cliffs, determined two of our party to keep
the coast ; while myself and two others, superior to
so unsportsmanlike a temptation, held our original
purpose and shaped our course for the interior. We
had not proceeded far before we entered a pleasant
and fruitful valley irregularly ascending to a high and
rocky gorge, down which there dashed a little mourn-

12

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

tain stream, bounding from point to point, now hid,
now bursting out anew from the clustering shrubs, and
gliding through the levels, until it disappeared at the
other extremity of the vale. The opposite hill, and
another valley, partially covered with dense coppice-
wood, led us to the foot of a mountain, which rose
towering high above, thickly overlaid with brown heath
and brush-wood ; up this too we held our way, and at
last, panting and breathless, gained the summit, from
whence a wide view was obtained of the surrounding
country. Another valley lay before us, not like the
others, warm and cultivated, its flat and barren plain
being broken only by a few solitary and dismal-looking
ponds, while further on again were more and more
mountains. Countless black-birds and a few miserable
cattle were the only things of life to he discovered.

An enormous ravine offered us an exit from this
scene, without encountering the steeps of the opposite
range ; but it was a question whether this narrow
chasm saved us any toil, for on and on we wandered,
from solitude to solitude, without at any time observing
the least trace of man or his haunts. The wild
beauties of the scenery had delighted us, but we had
been sadly deluded of our looked-for sport, and at last,
faint and weary, we called a halt, and refreshed our-
selves with the contents of an ample provision basket,
furnished by our kind host. We speedily discussed
the more substantial part of our mid-day meal, and,
lighting our cigars, reclined upon the soft grass, while

TERCEIRA.

13

in imagination we were transported back to the year of
our Lord 1439, where history places the discovery of
the islands — to that day when first Gonzalo Velho
Cabral, the Commendador de Almonral and Senhor of
Cardiga, grasping the Portuguese banner, sprung to
the shore with the ardent hopes of a discoverer.
With what wonder and curiosity must he have wan-
dered with his followers from hill to dale, from dale to
open plain, half doubting, yet still expecting to meet
a native race, whom to claim as the subjects of his new
found empire ; and how must he at last have returned
to his boats, his delight a little dashed by disappoint-
ment, but still enchanted with the beauty of his
uncontested prize, its balmy air and fertile soil
redolent with perfume, and the sweet sounds of its
only inhabitants, the feathered songsters. For here no
beast of prey, no poisoned vermin live ; the venom of
the snake and the virus of the rabid dog alike become
inert, under the influence of this benignant clime.

After we had a little refreshed our wearied frames
we bethought ourselves of the necessity of again press-
ing forward, and for hours we continued to pursue
the same pathless and laborious course, determined
to find any other route back to Praya rather than
attempt to retrace our way through the difficulties
we had encountered. We had become involved in
dense and intricate woods, with only here and there a
labyrinthine track leading us on through an undu-
lating country, apparently interminable, and utterly
c

14

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

impervious to the eye beyond a few yards ; the broken
ground and intercepting roots and branches, the un-
certainty of our proper direction, and our dissentient
conjectures, only tending to render the toil at every
step less and less tolerable. As for the lake of which
we came in search, with its abundant woodcocks and
snipe, all thought of it had long since given place
to an importunate anxiety to find the coast before
night closed upon us, or before our bruised limbs
should be altogether overpowered by fatigue.

When at last by a persevering advance we broke
from the confines of the forest, we found little indeed
to cheer our flagging courage. A dreary plain, cut up
with endless ravines, opened to a farther prospect of
mountains, dark and forbidding as any thing we had
yet beheld; shut in on every side, their sharp and
ragged outlines scowled a defiance upon our now
spiritless and drooping trio. Truly our condition was
deplorable, and our outward appearance was by no
means calculated to gloss over the reality of our suf-
ferings, or to delude us in our estimation of them.
Scarce a remnant of shoe-leather was there among us ;
and as to our upper garments, the entire stock would
not have furnished materials for a complete suit ; that
which remained was hanging to our persons in tattered
strips and shreds, deserving the names by which they
are commonly designated about as much as did the
patches which* we had left adhering to the thickets.
Our prospects were not more flattering than our actual

TERCEIRA.

15

state of person : a dinnerless and houseless night
was all we could expect, at best — a bivouac without
either honour or glory — with the probability of rising-
next morning still more stiff and hungry, to say
nothing of the chance of not rising at all; for we
were not unmindful of what had been said in Praya
about the guerrillas and bandits, who being hunted out
from the neighbourhood of our looked for lake, we
thought could hardly have selected a more impracti-
cable stronghold than the wood from which we had
just emerged.

Already the lengthened and purple shadows be
tokened the close of day. A short halt just to recover
breath was all that we could permit; for we were
determined to press on, till night should fairly bar our
farther progress. Across a forked indenture of the
mountains, a level stream of light, stretching like an
artificial horizon in the darkening sky, attracted our
notice; and fancying that it might prove to be the sea,
distant and hopeless as appeared our chance of success,
to this we resolved to turn our steps, rather than wander
on without any sort of guidance. Again we pushed
forward with the last efforts of our strength; again
we breasted the knotty steeps. Our high roads were
the loose and rugged beds of the mountain torrent ; our
cross roads were the arduous and thorny passages
which we made for ourselves through the tangled
brushwood; and our bye-roads lay through the cir-
cuitous and zig-zag inequalities of ravines and
c 2

16

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

gaping clefts, through which we clambered to escape
the walled precipices which continually opposed us.
At last we were rewarded for our toil, by finding
our fancied ocean no delusion ; a height was gained
whence we could fairly view its broad waters; and,
upon the plain before it, to our joy we descried a little
village, which, though far distant, and quickly fading
from our sight in the closing twilight, was at least a
promise of eventual escape from hunger and extreme
fatigue.

With renewed vigour we quickened our steps, and
just as night had completely overspread the island we
arrived at our promised shelter. We entered the first
cottage; but the utmost hospitality which we could
extort from the suspicious and bandit-looking inmates
amounted only to a scanty draft of execrably sour
wine and a modicum of garlic-flavoured bread; ren-
dered still less palatable by the unwelcome intelligence
that we were four leagues from Praya. Four leagues
indeed ! what a blank each face presented ! We knew
not whether our present position was any amelioration
of the melancholy bivouac which we had anticipated on
the borders of the forest. We had speedily become the
centre of a group of the most wild and lawless-looking
gentry it has ever been my fortune to behold, the
objects of a most unpleasant and unceremonious scru-
tiny, of certain monosyllables and significant gestures,
having especial reference to our guns, which con-
vinced us that, however weary, it would be prudent to

TERCEIRA.

17

lose no time in parting with such company/ There
was a wistful look in their hang-dog faces, an occa-
sional murmur about Ingleses, dinheiro, &c., which
rendered our council of war wonderfully unanimous
in the determination of beating a retreat. Eager
directions were given us as to the exact route we were
to pursue ; it might be in charity — but we did not
think so. Men when they are very hungry and very
tired are never very philanthropic.

The night was unusually dark, and even had we
been inclined to keep the road pointed out to us, we
probably should not have been able to do so; hut we
thought any other preferable, and staggered on, almost
heedless of our course. After many hours of painful
wandering we saw lights in the distance, and found
that we had providentially taken a pretty direct route
to Praya ; we entered the town a little after midnight.

When we presented ourselves before our host we
were dismayed to find only one of our comrades
whom we had left upon the coast ; he enquired
eagerly if we had brought news of his lost compa-
nion; who, followed by his dog, had descended the
cliff, promising to skirt the shore, hut whom we had
not again seen. Until nightfall our friend had
fatigued himself with fruitless search; his call was
unreturned, save by a melancholy echo from the
rocks below. Our arrival relieved both our friends
from much anxiety on our own account, but it de-
stroyed their hope that he who was missing had fallen
c 3

18

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

in with and accompanied us. Harrassed and toil-
worn as we were, it was impossible to rest while
uncertain of his fate; we in a measure restored our
strength by a hasty hut plentiful refreshment; and
then, despite our lacerated feet and stiffened limbs, we
again sallied forth.

We despatched two fishermen round by the beach,
and, provided with a guide, we followed the path which
we had taken in the morning : we soon came to the
place where we had separated, and thence pursued as
nearly as possible that which our absent friend had
chosen ; sounding every now and then a blast from a
horn in order to signify our advance, and if possible
to direct the wanderer to his friends : but we listened
in vain for his reply to our challenge. The only
answer was the echo, mocking our alarm, as the faint
and solemn tones reverberated from cliff to cliff, and
the ill-omened screech of the disturbed sea-birds, with
the feeble moaning of the wind and sea. Again we
blew a louder and still louder blast — a strange forebod-
ing thrilled through me — all was dark and drear, hut
I fancied that the faint and piteous howl of a dog was
borne upon the breeze which repeated the notes of
the horn. Yes, it was Ranger’s voice, now more
loudly and clearly heard. Onward we pressed in the
direction from which the sound had come ; but as we
advanced the cry of the dog was lost, for the gathering
winds rising swept down from the hills in hollow gusts
and then more loudly whistled in our ears, while the

TERCEIRA.

19

roar of the sea added to the confusion of sounds.
Again and again we blew the horn, but without avail.

We had not advanced many steps, when the fore-
most of the party stopped suddenly, uttering a low
and hurried exclamation. The night was star-lit, and
looking before us, we beheld the loosened soil, some
feet in extent evidently having been recently up-
turned. The dew stood upon my brow ; all seemed
to feel a horror at the sight, a dread that could not
shape itself in words. A long and swelling howl
from the dog was now repeated in a momentary lull
of the wind.

“ Mark the spot ! but let us on to the cliff now ! ”

The first streak of dawn was glimmering in the
east as we reached the summit of the rocks ; and as
day broke, we were hailed by the fishermen whom we
had sent round upon the shore. They were half way
down the cliff, and with emphatic gesture they pointed
down below them ; and one of them, resting his head
upon his hand, seemed to intimate that our friend
lay there asleep or helpless. Our guide was a power-
ful and active man, and he at once prepared to
descend; myself and another of the party followed,
after many warnings from the guide, for the steep was
one which even the practised islanders considered it a
feat to descend ; at the best it was extremely hazard-
ous, requiring a cool head and a sure foot, as well as
activity and experience. Having disencumbered our-
selves of our boots and the most inconvenient part of

20

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

our apparel, we cautiously commenced our descent,
a Portugue leading the way. It was evident that a
single false step must end in a headlong fall of at
least a thousand feet.

The excitement of so long a period, with little
sustenance and without rest, had rendered me insen-
sible to fatigue, hut had produced the false strength
and mad determination of fever. Upheld by this
supernatural strength, I followed the steps of the
crouching guide and my more cautious companion,
until about half way down, the former found it
impossible to proceed. We reconnoitred the place,
and found our farther progress barred by a narrow
projecting shelf of rock, which overhung a vast and
giddy chasm, black and interminable as seen in the
dubious morning light. A few feet below, however,
we discovered a second ledge of the same description,
but affording a very precarious footing. We lowered
ourselves over the abyss, clinging with outstretched
arms to the edge, and letting the body slide gently
down the scarped face of the precipice. From thence,
grappling the scanty knots and rents of the rock with
apprehensive energy, we descended to the beach, pass-
ing from point to point, and sliding down the narrow
water tracks.

Turning a sudden angle as the beach was gained,
we were appalled by beholding the mangled and blood-
stained corpse of our ill-fated comrade; he lay
stretched upon his back, cold and stiffened, his limbs

TERCEIRA.

21

crushed, his features obliterated, the rocks around
clotted with gore. By the side of our poor friend
watched the fond and faithful Ranger, bemoaning with
piteous lamentation his master’s disastrous fate, refu-
sing all attention, and disregarding our efforts to
withdraw him from the body.

What had befallen our unfortunate companion
before his headlong course down that fearful precipice
we never learned, and for the grave-like appearance of
the ground which had attracted our notice on our
route no better information ever reached me.

22

TENERIFFE.

It lias been freely remarked of travellers in general,
and perhaps not altogether without reason, “ that they
have a common usage of extolling each successive
object of their description as the most wonderful, or
the most beautiful, or the most curious of all that is
wonderful, or beautiful, or curious, within their know-
ledge.” * The author, in reviewing his own admira-
tion and excitement when for the first time he came
in sight of the Peak Teneriffe, is willing to risk a
similar imputation, rather than qualify his superla-
tives while attempting to idepict the scene. In the
whole northern hemisphere there is perhaps scarcely
any natural object of curiosity which can be disco-
vered to the traveller with more striking effect than
this singular island, upon whichever side and under
whatever circumstances it may be approached. There
is something so grand, so almost supernatural, in the
appearance of the wild volcanic mountain, towering

* Hugh Boyd’s Tracts.

TENERIFFE.

23

aloft in stupendous majesty above the regions of the
clouds, from the deep deep waters of the ocean, that
the beholder cannot but regard it with sensations akin
to awe ; nor will his admiration lose one tittle of its
solemnity upon a closer view of the ragged cliffs,
which are composed of calcined rocks and lava, torn
and distorted into countless irregular and mysterious
forms.

The mountain is computed by M. de Humboldt
to be 12,198 English feet in height, and to be gene-
rally visible at sea from a distance of 130 miles ; but
we have the authority of most voyagers for stating,
that at certain seasons the peak is to be seen at the
almost incredible distance of 200 miles. This, how-
ever, is during those months when the atmosphere is
pretty fully charged with moisture, so that the refrac-
tion renders it visible at a very much greater distance
than would appear possible by calculation from its
height. In the dry sunny months of July and Au-
gust, when seldom even a silver wreath of cloud is
seen to stray across the clear canopy of heaven, or more
than a gentle breath of air to ripple the bright surface
of the ocean, the peak, when first descried, assumes a
very singular appearance.

Perchance the far-sighted mariner has discovered it,
while to the unpractised landsman there is still nil nisi
pontus et aer, until the vessel stealing softly onward
under the almost imperceptible influence of the breeze,
has brought it within scope of his comparatively ob-

24

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

tuse sight, and he becomes slowly conscious of some
shadowy object, now lost, now seen again upon the
clear horizon. Soon this vague shape may he traced
by a clear outline upon the sky as it gradually assumes
a deeper hue, and then appears like a gap or rent in
the natural heaven, admitting the eye to penetrate to a
second sky. I^ow as the vessel, hour by hour, holds
on her course and diminishes the distance from the
mountain, this illusion is dispersed, and the colour is
changed from blue to a deep aerial grey, while a sharp
streak of glittering light, glancing from its snowy top,
plainly defines the form of the peak.

But the circumstances under which Teneriffe is seen
in the full force of its grandeur are the reverse of the
foregoing description. When the winter months, com-
mencing with November, bring in the dreary season of
storm and hurricane, the howling south-east wind
drives down successive volumes of black clouds across
the desert of Sahara, from the tempestuous summits of
the Jebel Kumra mountains ; and these accumulate
around the peak, like evil spirits under its command,
and, whirling round and round, open and close, and
rise and fall upon its rugged sides, now exposing, now
completely enveloping them, constantly clashing and
revolving in strange uncouth contortions which baffle
all attempts at description, and can only be compared
to the mad orgies of a thousand genii. The hissing
lightnings play from cloud to cloud, and the hoarse

TENERIFFE.

25

thunder hursts in rattling peals, mingling with the
rush of the hurricane and the loud roar of the tumul-
tuous sea. All this, it may be fancied, forms a fearful
scene, especially to the poor mariners who have har-
boured in the narrow roadstead of Santa Cruz : the first
prognostic of the coming storm is the signal to slip
their cables and put instantly to sea.

The island was anciently called the Peak of Teyde,
and the inhabitants, who are Spaniards, still retain the
name in preference to the more euphoneous one by
which it is now known to the whole world. Though
so picturesque an object, upon approaching it, the
island possesses very little beauty of scenery within
its shores, its cultivated spots being intersected with
sterile and unsightly patches of volcanic matter,
without anything deserving the name of wood, except
here and there a cluster of stunted pines, eked out by
a few scattered and ill-shapen palm trees, which, far
from adorning, rather add to the desolation of the
scene. This is more especially the case upon the
coast, for, strange to relate, the lava and scoriae
become less abundant on approaching the peak itself,
the monstrous chimney of the eternal furnaces raging
below, and the soil is more productive ; indeed it is in
many places highly cultivated, and the gardens and
vineyards of the Spaniards exhibit something ap-
proximating to civilization. The same, however,
cannot be said of the inhabitants, or of their buildings.

D

26

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

Even the principal towns are extremely wretched both
in appearance and as dwellings, while it may be
safely said that the sites upon which they have been
erected are in every respect the worst that could have
been chosen.

St, Christoval de Laguna is called the capital of the
island, but why this distinction is conferred, it is
difficult to say, unless from the circumstance of the
governor having a mansion at that place, although he
resides at Santa Cruz, which latter is certainly the
more important town, both on account of its harbour
for shipping, and for its comparative wealth and
extent. It has, however, a most desolate and forbid-
ding aspect, being a collection of some hundreds of
houses most flimsily constructed, and, from their
dazzling whiteness, having the appearance of a paper
town, spread along the flat and narrow beach, and
overtopped by black furrowed cliffs, without a single
leaf of vegetation or a trace of anything green to
relieve the eye from the intolerable glitter of the
white-wash. Nor does the place possess one single
edifice of importance ; the churches are tawdry and
badly built, as also are the government house and
public offices; the jetty is in sad disrepair, and quite
insufficient for its purpose, but it is terminated by a
well-built and handsome mole, which serves the double
purpose of a jetty-head, protecting the harbour from
the continual south-east swell, and being, moreover.

TENERIEFE.

27

surmounted by a powerful and commanding battery
for the defence of the town.

Herein is little to invite further description ; but it
would be quite unpardonable to quit the roadstead with-
out noticing the very picturesque and almost magic
effect which this harbour presents upon entering it after
night-fall^ if the weather be fair. The twinkling lights
of the town are almost eclipsed by thousands of ruddy
fires blazing in all directions over the sea, to the outer
verge of the bank which forms the roadstead, swiftly
passing to and fro like swarming fire-flies, spangling the
waves with the reflection, and thus multiplying their
numbers until the eye is completely dazzled by the
sight. To the stranger who is unacquainted with the
cause ©f this singular scene the enigma must remain un-
told until the vessel is within the bay ; and then, among
the foremost of the fires, will be occasionally seen a hu-
man figure lit up by the red glare, and then another and
another, appearing and vanishing in quick succession ;
until at last the mystery is solved by a still nearer
approach ; and these phenomena are found to be
countless fleets of fishing boats, each of them having-
on board two men, whose persons appear gigantic and
almost demoniac, as they are seen in the broad light of
two blazing fires which they carry on board, one in the
bow, and another in the stern of the boat. These
brilliant lights are for the purpose of alluring the fish
from their rocky resting places, and they are then
d 2

28

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

taken by the fishermen with rod and line. The scene
is rendered more completely grotesque by the singular
costume and half-clad appearance of the Spaniards,
the wild snatches of song that are fitfully borne upon
the wind, the uncouth cries of the men, continually
hailing one another from boat to boat, accompanied by
the harsh screams of the sea birds whirling in all
directions overhead, and watching a favourable oppor-
tunity to plunder the boats. Add to this the flashing of
innumerable oars, now here, now there, glancing over
miles of space with the instantaneous speed of elec-
tricity ; and, to finish the enchantment of the picture,
perchance from the impenetrable gloom steals forth,
with silent majesty and slow advance, the towering-
image of a giant ship, her canvass filled and bending
to the breeze, while on she glides, like a spirit of air,
through the scattered fleet of tiny fishing boats. The
whole scene possesses a wild and unearthly effect, little
short of magic, such as may not commonly be dis-
covered in nature, and yet, in moderate weather, it
may be nightly witnessed in the roadstead of Santa
Cruz.

The unfortunate inhabitants, although the subjects
of a double despotism, have preserved undiminished the
pride and indolence which proverbially characterize
the Spaniards. The will of the governor is over the
head of every citizen for life or death, the courts of
law being governed by his nod ; the power of the
priesthood is even still more absolute, and the conse-

TENERIEFE-

29

quence is, that the people are sunk to the very lowest
state of depravity. The town swarms with houseless
mendicants of both sexes; the aged dying in the
streets from utter filthiness and starvation, while the
youth are horribly deformed, or afflicted with the most
unsightly diseases. Indeed nothing can exceed the
deplorable state of these wretched beings, who are only
heeded by those in authority when their emaciated and
lifeless bodies are actually obstructing the public
streets, and corrupting the atmosphere. Their only
means of subsistence appear to be in theft, and in this
they are said to outrival even the nimble-fingered
islanders of the South Seas, no manner of precaution
being proof against their ingenuity or their despera-
tion. It would, however, be difficult to determine
whether are the more numerous, the more cunning,
and the more shameless, the thieves themselves, or
their plunderers, the monks; for these latter literally
swarm in the streets in the cool of evening, and must
be the objects of mingled pity and abhorrence to all
foreigners, while they openly practise their imposi-
tions, nor blush to prove themselves as abandoned as
their dupes.

Escape we then from these obnoxious dens of
human infamy and woe. Upon the opposite coast
to Santa Cruz ; that is, on the north-west side of the
island, stands the port of Oratava, which, without
examining too closely, we call a pretty town. It rests
upon a rounded declivity at the foot of a high conical
d 3

30

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

mountain, on the precipitous sides of which are here
and there a few white houses, stuck up in little niches
without any visible means of access, surrounded with
small slopes of garden and cultivation. All around the
town too are broad fields of corn, plantations, orchards,
vineyards, and gardens of fruits and flowers, with
abundant streams of water, most refreshing to the
scorched eye ; here then let it rest ; for all beyond is
naked rock and barren broken ground, of which it is
just possible the reader may be almost weary.

Such is the favoured Oratava, the most highly culti-
vated spot on the island, and during many years it had
worn the same inviting aspect when compared with
the other towns of TenerifFe. But fortune has not
always smiled upon it, for in the acme of its greatest
prosperity it was suddenly reduced to desolation, and
in a single night became a howling wilderness. In
1 826 it was visited by an earthquake, accompanied by
a hurricane of such terrific violence, that not a build-
ing was left standing, not a blade of vegetation
undestroyed; the little villages around were shaken
from their high perches, and washed into the sea by
the irresistible torrents which rushed down the moun-
tain sides, carrying before them, not only flocks and
herds, but the ill-fated inhabitants themselves.

Earthquakes are not unfrequent in Teneriffe, and in
the year 1704 it was visited by one which, in co-ope-
ration with a terrible eruption of the volcano, destroyed
nearly all its towns and villages ; but although the

TENERIEFE.

31

fires are still active within — as is evident from occasional
subterraneous noises and the bursting of hot springs,
and at distant intervals, within the memory of
the people, the issuing of smoke from the crater- —
there has been no eruption since that above-men-
tioned. The people appear to be insensible to any-
thing like apprehension of the recurrence of such a
calamity, nor do" they seem to stand much in awe of
the frequent earthquakes which shake the very foun-
dations of the island. The summit of the great Peak
may be gained by a difficult ascent from Oratava ; the
distance to the crater from the foot is about twelve
miles, the road forming a complete zig-zag throughout.

The crater is of an area containing 7,500 square
yards, or, at a rough computation, about an acre and a
half. Except during the latter end of August and
September, the top is capped with snow, from which
the sun’s rays glance with great brilliancy, adding not
a little to its over- towering effect. It would scarcely
be credited by those who have never witnessed a
similar illusion, that, at Santa Cruz, which is distant
from the Peak upwards of thirty miles, it appears so
wonderfully near to the eye that one might almost
fancy it possible to cast a stone to the summit. The
island possesses several other towns and villages, but
none which particularly demand notice in these pages.

32

MONEA.

I’ll put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.

Midsummer Night’s Dream.

In accordance with the design explained in the
address with which this volume opens, we are now
under the necessity of setting all our canvass, sky-
scrapers and studding sails, in order to make as rapid
a passage as possible from Peak Teneriffe to a point
about six hundred miles up the winding course of
the sacred river Ganges. Should the reader he of
opinion that St. Helena, the Cape of Good Hope, the
Mauritius, Ceylon, and other equally interesting
points in our track would have been convenient and
desirable ports, he must be entreated to rest satisfied
at present with the go-ashore entertainment already
provided, and console himself with the promise of
touching and casting anchor in one or more of these
harbours next voyage.

A very short sojourn in any foreign country will
generally suffice to dissipate that sense of novelty

MONEA.

33

which for a time is ever present with the traveller,
infusing itself into all his ideas and imparting a
fanciful and dream -like want of reality even to his
actions. Englishmen who visit the East, having
previously confined their travels exclusively to their
own quarter of the globe, find this effect protracted
much beyond its ordinary duration, by the very strik-
ing contrast existing between the characteristics of
Asia and Europe, both in the climate, scenery, and
people ; and it is again and again revived, after the
outward appearance of the country has become fami-
liar, by the peculiar properties which seem to distin-
guish the common features of the scene from those
of his home. I might extend the remark, with truth,
I believe, even to the more subtle operations of nature,
the produce of the country, and the works of the
natives ; for scarcely a day passes without some
strange and unexpected quality being discovered in
one or other of them. It were needless to particu-
larise ; a thousand instances will at once suggest
themselves to the mind of the reader, or they may
be found in the pages of every book of travels in the
East; but the fact will be fully illustrated by the
point upon which I am driving.

The rivers, the rippling brooks, and headlong
mountain torrents of old England continue for ages
to run in their wonted courses, their utmost depreda-
tions being an occasional overflowing of their waters,
or the temporary shifting of their sands. The records

34

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

of remote ages show us that, centuries since, our
forefathers were acquainted with the streams of our
land, wearing very much the same aspect, and, at least,
flowing within the same banks as in our own days.
But it is otherwise with the rivers of India. These
vagrant waters, from the mighty Ganges to the
meanest tributary, are constantly seeking new chan-
nels, shifting over the plain from city to city, persever-
ingly undermining all barriers whether natural or
artificial, and compelling the husbandmen and the
villagers to retreat before their irresistible invasions.
In many parts, the Ganges may be traced to have had
its course, hut a few years since, distant full twenty
miles from its present channel : I have known it
make a digression of three or four miles in a single
season. This is chiefly attributable to the soft and
sandy nature of the soil, the peculiarly abrupt and
tortuous windings of the stream, and the very sudden
accumulation of the waters at the commencement of
the monsoon, suddenly converting the smooth and
silent river into a turbulent flood which rolls down
from the highlands with terrific force, saps or over-
leaps all opposition, and fills its former bed, while it
devastates the adjacent country and carves out for
itself a new channel, or usurps that of some other
stream.

It is not many years since the river Sone — so called
from the word sona, gold — used to pour its broad

MONEA.

35

waters into the river Ganges under the walls of a
small town named Maena ; the junction now takes
place about four miles lower down at Monea, which,
formerly an inland town, now stands upon a projecting

I

tongue of land washed by both rivers. Neither of
these places could be recognised by its former inhabi-
tants, so complete is the transformation. The channel
of the Sone is very deep and the waters are, during
the greater part of the year, too rapid to be safely
navigated by small boats; indeed for many weeks
after the first fall of the summer rains it is imprac-
ticable, except to boats of a peculiar construction.
It has its source in the wild and barbarous province
of Gundwana, near a place of great sanctity called
Omirkantac, which stands upon a curious table-land
considerably elevated above the surrounding country.
This place is the constant resort of innumerable diseased
and deformed Hindoos, who ascribe to its waters the
power of effecting all sorts of cures. The Brahmins
have attributed to it a still more mysterious property,
when the water is administered by their own hands.
They affirm that in certain cases of abject poverty —
that is, when the last cowries of the dupe have been
distributed among them — it will endow those who
drink it with the extraordinary facult}^ of discovering
by intuitive knowledge all the secret places of con-
cealed treasure, within a certain distance round about
them. This is not a naked assertion on the part of the

36

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

priest ; they have a thousand very wonderful and in-
disputable tales to relate in verification of it. Many
are doubtless founded upon facts, and among others,

THE STORY OF RUNG BHOWANI,*

a Raja of Kamroop, was gravely told to me by a
Hindoo as an authentic instance of the virtue of the
sacred water, for both the purposes above described.

In the ancient Hindoo City of Jaurhat, through the
centre of which runs the river Dekhor, there formerly
lived a wealthy and influential Raja, by name Rung
Bhowani, who enjoyed a large jaghir in the district of
Kamroop, derived from the gods ; of whom, also, the
family were descended. In his youth. Rung Bhowani
had been blessed with a large family of very beautiful
children; but as he advanced in years, when the
autumn of life was fast withering his strength, he
found himself bereft of his sons and daughters, one
after the other, the victims of an insidious and un-
known disease, which baffled the skill of all the phy-
sicians, all the holy men, and the practitioners of
astrology and magic. While in the very bloom of
youth, they suddenly declined, and, without pain or
any obvious cause, languished in mind and body; until,
in a very few months, the cold grave closed over then-
wasted forms. Throughout the province of Kamroop

* Bhowani is the name of the Indian Venus ; hut in India it is by
no means unusual for a man to be called by the name of a female
deity, or for a woman to be named after the gods.

MONEA.

37

the black art is prevalent in a thousand different forms;
and, seeing his children drop into the grave from
day to day, his prayers to the gods unheeded, his
boundless largesses to the Brahmins unrequited, the
afflicted Raja had recourse to those dealers in the
obscene and detestable rites of Tantra, who boldly
declared their knowledge of the evil, and their ability
to resist it. The heart-broken prince had long re-
sisted, with religious dread, the secret promptings of
his soul to apply to the demoniac professors of the
abhorred system, but each of his beloved children had
been laid upon the funeral pile, until one only, the
youngest and the most beautiful of the daughters,
remained to him.

Hope yet lingered in his breast, so long as health
continued to flow in the veins of the lovely child ;
hope strengthened into confidence, as year succeeded
year, adding new charms and vigour to Chahni, the
rescued treasure of his heart; when, in the opening
of her fourteenth year, while the fond father was in
treaty with a neighbouring prince for the alliance of
their families, the ruddy glow of health faded from
the cheek of the intended bride, the fire burnt low
within her once resplendent eyes, the vermillion of her
lips declined to sickly pallor, and her full rounded
form dwindled into a mere shadow of its wonted grace
and beauty. The distracted father with a last and
frantic hope fled to the accursed disciples of Tantra,
in defiance of the gods of his faith, regardless of the

E

38

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

divine origin of his family. He cast himself before
these impure altars, in the anguish of his heart, of-
fering his broad lands, his entire wealth, and his aged
body for sacrifice, if they would snatch his darling
child from destruction.

The fiends received the Raja with yells and screams
of triumph and delight, promised him all he sought,
provided, only, he would accede to one condition.
Unhesitatingly did the eager parent promise all
without reserve ; hut no sooner had the officiating
priest declared his meaning, than the hapless Rung
Bhowani, covering his face with his hands, turned from
the assembled magicians, in silent horror of their hate-
ful laws, and fled for refuge to a neighbouring temple
of Krishna. Here he met a very venerable and
devout Brahmin, who, surprised to find a person of
high rank in such a condition, and warmly compas-
sionating his affliction, by kindness and gentle persua-
sion, with promises of assistance, wrung from him a
full account of his life’s misfortunes, and his present
woe. The Brahmin, after some moments spent in deep
thought, enquired if the Raja were still disposed to
sacrifice his wealth for his daughter’s restoration, and,
being assured of the fact, he then encouraged him to
hope.

“ Be comforted, my son,” said he, “ there is certain
life for yourself and your child, if you will follow my
counsel. Convert all that you have into gold, and,
taking it with you as a peace offering, set forth with

MONEA.

39

your daughter upon a pilgrimage to the source of the
sacred river Sone; and, when you arrive at the holy
town of Omirkantac, enquire for an aged Brahmin, by
name Ramdoorg ; relate to him your history as unre-
servedly as you have told it to me, and in the Dhurma
Shastra he shall point out to you the means by which
your daughter shall be saved. Tarry not upon the
way lest you arrive too late ; go speedily, and with as
small a retinue as possible. Diligence and contrition
alone can expiate your crime in having deserted the
true gods. Talk not of remuneration to me; your
whole wealth will be needful to your purpose ; and by
this you may judge of my sincerity.”

Rung Bhowani, placing implicit faith in the words
of the devout Brahmin, hastened to commence his
journey, according to the directions he had received.
The fast declining, but still beautiful, Chahni was
conveyed in an easy litter during the cool of the night ;
and the anxious father rode beside the conveyance,
absorbed in his grief, and heedless of all except the
gentle voice of his child, who, while strength lasted,
ceased not to speak in accents of hope and consolation.
After a long and weary pilgrimage, during which poor
Rung Bhowani’s remaining spirits were fast ebbing—
for Chahni continued to grow more and more feeble,
so that they despaired of reaching their destination
while life remained — the little company arrived at the
long-looked-for Omirkantac; and without delay the
Raja sought the Brahmin Ramdoorg, who, fore-know-
e 2

40

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

ing his history and misfortunes, at once promised him
relief. “ Bring hither your daughter,” said the vene-
rable man, “ cast upon the altar of the offended Krish-
na all that you possess of worldly wealth, retrace your
steps in humility and hard privation, and the child
shall be restored ere you have travelled three days
journey from Omirkantac. The consecrated waters
will not work the cure unless your faith be proved.”
’Tis said, that with full hope and confidence, the
Raja deposited upon the altar of the god his all of
wealth, stripping his person of his robes and jewels,
and adopting the scanty garb of the destitute. Chah-
ni, too, gave up her trinkets and her costly garments
before she could effectually receive the healing waters
from the holy man. Both drank and turned to depart
from the sacred city, as they were commanded by the
Brahmin. But, alas ! the aged father, enfeebled by
the long course of affliction and excitement under
which he had suffered, found himself, in his poverty,
deserted by his followers ; no slave was at his beck to
raise the litter; no hand to aid him, or assist his
child. They two alone remained to one another,
equally helpless ; yet did not Rung Bhowani despair :
having in vain besought the services of the by-standers,
he raised his drooping child, and half-supporting, half-
carrying her in his arms, with slow and painful steps
he withdrew her from the gaze of the multitude, his
stifled sighs and prayers unmixed with aught approach-
ing to a murmur.

MONEA.

41

They had not continued their distressing advance
far beyond the suburbs, when, utterly overpowered
with fatigue, they were compelled to seek shelter in
a miserable deserted hovel by the road side. Here
they were fortunately supplied with water and a small
quantity of parched grain by a woman, who, commise-
rating their sufferings, followed them from the town
after sunset, and with more humanity than her neigh-
bours endeavoured to sooth and encourage them.
The exhausted father and child having in the warmest
terms expressed their gratitude, received an assurance
that her kindness should be renewed before they de-
parted on their journey the next morning. Relieved
and animated by this tender treatment which they so
little expected, it was with complete resignation, and
something approaching to happiness that they lay
themselves down to rest upon the ground, rendered
little more inviting by the miserable blanket which
the father carried.

Here in soft sleep (a while) they escaped the extreme
misery of their condition. The slumbers of the beau-
tiful Chahni, gentle and unbroken, were such as had
not visited her couch for many months ; but the
anxiety and careful solicitude of the Raja rendered
his sleep disturbed and restless. Trains of dim
and confused images crowded through his mind, as-
suming now the substantial form of waking thought,
and now the misty, strange, disordered semblance of
a vision. The miserable hut which covered them
e 3

42

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

rose from its lowly form and shapeless walls to mon-
strous cavern ed domes and vaulted roofs, upreared on
rocky pillars from the deep foundations of the earth.
Dark and immeasurable chambers were peopled with
ghostly forms and gliding spectres, now laughing and
gibing, now welcoming the old Raja with kindly
smile, and promising good tidings of his darling
Chahni, whom he had lost he knew not where. Now
he recognised the Brahmin Ramdoorg leading forth
his daughter in health and all her former beauty ;
and now he beheld the accursed Tantras enveloped in
flames, a prey to hideous serpents, who, with fiend-
like wrath and with voices of thunder, demanded his
pure and lovely child.

The earth trembled, and the tottering walls opened,
admitting a blinding glare of light, from crackling
and devouring flames, in the midst of which, unscathed,
the venerable Ramdoorg stood forth, his countenance
full of dignity and virtue. “ Hence ! Rung Bhowani,”
he exclaimed; “Hence! or you perish.” The heat
became intolerable, a fearful crash, followed by a
shriek which seemed to rend the vaulted roof asunder,
awoke the Raja, who starting to his feet found him-
self enveloped in flames, and beheld his daughter
with wild impassioned gesture entreating a stranger
to rescue him from the burning hut : at a bound he
dashed through the flames and clasped her in his
arms. A glance sufficed to tell the entire tale ; the
thunders roared, the lightnings flashed so vividly that

MONEA.

43

the sky was continually illuminated, and the wind
was raging with fearful violence : their miserable
place of refuge had been fired by the electric fluid,
and in a very few minutes was consumed.

But what was the delight of the Raja when he
beheld his precious child, with renewed strength, able
to stand and walk without assistance ! He doubted
at first the testimony of his senses, and then, notwith-
standing his faith in the promises of the holy Ram-
doorg, he trembled lest she should relapse into her
helpless state of disease and suffering : but no ; she
momentarily improved in health, and his pious grati-
tude would not long suffer his doubts to continue.
The rain now burst in torrents from the over-charged
clouds, and they were obliged to seek shelter in a
ruined tomb hard by. Rung Bhowani turned to ex-
amine the stranger whom till now he had scarcely
noticed : it was the old Brahmin whom he had en-
countered in the temple of Krishna atJaurhat; the
Raja knelt and received his blessing, esteeming their
second rencontre at so great a distance as nothing
less than miraculous. The Brahmin enquired the
particulars of their journey, and being informed of
all, he bestowed upon them a small coin, and departed
on his way to the city, whither he was bound on some
mission of benevolence.

No sooner had they entered the centre apartment
of the dilapidated tomb in which they sought refuge,
than Rung Bhowani became sensible of the presence

44

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

of hidden treasure concealed within the walls and
buried beneath the crumbling pavement. He took
prudent measures for possessing himself of these
riches, and became again an opulent man, but returned
no more to the country of Kamroop. He built
himself a noble palace, of which the ruins are still
shown at Omirkantac ; and bestowed his beautiful
daughter Chahni in marriage upon the only son of a
neighbouring Raja. Rung Bhowani took the Brahmins
of the place into especial favour, but he did not many
years survive the fortunate result of his pilgrimage.
He, however, had the satisfaction of beholding the
young family of his children springing up to suc-
ceed him, and earnestly commended the excellent
Ramdoorg and his reverend associates to their care
and protection.

The district of Bahar is the only fertile tract of
country through which the Sone flows; the land is
finely wooded and has all the appearance of the highest
cultivation. But this last is not the fact, since the
natives are perhaps the most slothful race to be found
in Hindostan. The soil owes very little to labour ;
so wonderfully prolific is it, that the farmers have
little to do but sow and reap ; and yet, owing to
their inactive habits and their excessive use of intoxi-

MONEA.

45

eating drugs, a more miserable and destitute class
of men may be rarely seen. The neighbouring
districts have no such natural advantages, and for
this reason, labour being necessary to their subsistence,
they form a striking contrast to the Baharas. Whole
miles of country may be passed, upon the western
bank of the river, producing nothing better than a
few rushes and scanty jungle grass; the true soil,
which would probably be found as productive as that
of Bahar, being deeply buried under a succession of
sand hillocks, blown up from the river-bed. Even
the vicinity of Monea, which is laboriously irrigated,
would present but a barren aspect were it not for
the mango and tamarind groves, which wonderfully
enliven the monotony of sand-hills and scattered
palms.

Monea has been a town of considerable import-
ance, and all around it are the remains of temples,
mosques, and tombs, presenting a singular mixture of
the Moslem and Hindoo styles. The principal object
of attraction among these is the Mausoleum of Muk-
doom Shah, a prince of the family of Oude, which,
though in a state of great decay, is a fine specimen
of ancient Moslem architecture, and is now used by
Mussulmans as a mosque. It forms the middle dis-
tance of the annexed plate, from which it is hoped a
correct idea of it may be formed. The material is a
fine grey stone, very carefully wrought and put to-
gether, without any cement in the walls. In the

46

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

construction of the dome it is evident that something
of the kind has been used, though this is denied by
the natives. The carvings are bold and in good taste,
but by no means so elaborate, or of such skilful
workmanship as the specimens with which similar
buildings are adorned in the Doab ; nor is the tomb
generally remarkable for the same symmetry of design
as those around Agra and Delhi. The dome is very
peculiar, being ornamented with intersecting lines,
having the appearance of a reticulation, which on
near inspection are found to be a representation of
plantain leaves overlapping one another; the only
design of the kind which I ever with met in India.
There is one circumstance, however, about the archi-
tecture of this building which at once claimed my
attention, and is deserving of particular notice; the
principal entrance is formed by a noble Gothic arch,
coved and supported by a series of small columns
diminishing towards the door, representing a per-
spective effect, such as is common in many of our
Gothic cathedrals and abbeys in England. This is
the only instance of the kind which I have ever seen
or heard of in Bengal, or the whole continent of
India ; nor have I ever met with any notice of the fact
in any disquisition upon the origin of the various styles
of architecture of the East, which certainly is not a
little to be wondered at; since, although the Egyptian,
Moorish, and Hindoo modes may, in the early

MONEA.

47

ages, have been derived from the same source, each of
them occasionally exhibiting traces of the same prin-
ciples, and even the peculiar ornaments, which belong
to the Greek style ; still in this case we have evidence
of a servile copy, not of the order itself, but of a
fanciful deviation from the order ; and this an isolated
instance. It would be beyond my depth, as much
as it would he foreign to the province of this volume,
to enter upon a scientific discussion upon this intri-
cate subject, hut I could not pass the circumstance
without remark.

The ruins in the foreground of the sketch are
the remains of a Serai , or public place of rest for
travellers, evidently of a style very superior to the
generality of these buildings. They usually form a
quadrangle with a large arched gateway, surmounted
with a tower or apartments for the dewan (door-
keeper), and each of the small arches around the
square forms a lodging for the way-farer, which he
occupies at his own pleasure rent-free, paying only
a trifle to the sweeper. They are usually erected
and endowed by religious or humane men of rank
and wealth for the accommodation of pilgrims, as a
peace offering to the gods ; but they seldom rival in
magnificence the mosques and tombs. The one in
question must have been superior, both in size and
decoration, to any thing of the same kind which I
have seen entire, many parts of it bearing evidence

48

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

of noble proportion and profuse ornament. It was
attached to the Mausoleum, and near it there are the
remains of a spacious tank or reservoir of water,
enclosed with masonry, and approached by handsome
flights of shallow steps and surrounded with pillared
and domed pavilions after the oriental fashion ; but
this also has been suffered to fall into decay, and
certainly from its neglected state, does not readily
suggest the grateful idea Of its original purpose ; that
of ablution.

These already enumerated are the handsomest and
most perfect of the ancient reliques at Monea; and
there are very many highly grotesque Hindoo build-
pigs and ruined temples scattered in all directions
around the town. The most extraordinary of them
is a monstrous and ill-shapen image of the gigantic
lion Singh devouring an elephant, though it certainly
requires the explanation of the guide before the genus
of either animal is quite recognizable. The mytho-
logical fable here embodied I was unable to ascer-
tain ; my expositor, being a devout Mussulman little
skilled in the impious lore of pagans, replied to my
enquiry —

“ Does heaven rain flowers upon the plains of
pestilence ? think you the Holy Koran wastes words
upon these abominations P ”

It is probable, however, that the figure is a
representation of some part of the endless history of

MONEA.

49

Krishna, of whom the Veda relates various exploits
performed as Nara Singh, half man, half lion. It
was under this form that the enraged god, breathing
flames, burst from the pillar in the palace of Prince
Hirind Kassip, and destroyed that blasphemer ; and
in the same disguise he devoured all his enemies in
Gokul.

r

50

GHAZIPORE.

PALACE OF SAHADUT ALI. ANCIENT MUSJID.

The names of most places in India have reference
to their early history, and form a convenient clue for
the investigations of the traveller. Ghazipore signi-
fies the abode of Ghazi ; this place having been
distinguished as the favourite residence of the cele-
brated Ishmael Ghazi Khan, a holy Mussulman, and
a wise and talented commander, who first subdued
the country of Dinagepore to the Mogul power ; and
whose humanity and impartial justice have gained for
him the worship, not only of true Moslems, but even
of the Hindoos themselves, who frequently perform
long and painful pilgrimages to his tomb at Shora-
ghat. We may judge of the excellent wisdom of
this chief, by the three fundamental laws which he
issued, for the constraint of the farmers and for the
benefit of his followers. The first was, that no land-
holder or tiller of the land should ever presume to

GHAZIPORE.

51

sleep upon a bedstead, the earth being his proper
couch. Secondly, that none of the inhabitants of the
country should attempt to strike a Mussulman under
penalty of perdition. Thirdly, that no farmer, or
keeper of cows, should ever adulterate the milk sup-
plied for the consumption of the true believers. And
as these rules were to be observed towards Mussul-
mans, so were they to be most religiously conformed
with by all other men for ever, as a mark of respect
to the memory of the conquerors. The laws live in
the mouths of the people continually, but I can
speak from experience that they are daily infringed.
A feigned observance of the first decree is certainly
common, wherever the name of Ghazi is worshipped.
The circumstance escaped my notice, until I met
with mention of it in the writings of some traveller ;
but it will be found that the sacred law is thus remem-
bered and evaded. The people make use of a bed-
stead of boards, pretending that Ghazi’s prohibition
extended only to bedsteads strung with tape or cord,
such as are generally used throughout Bengal.

Ghazipore stands upon the north bank of the
Ganges, about seventy miles, by water, below Benares.
It is not a very extensive town, but is justly cele-
brated as the Gul-istan, the rose-bed, of Bengal. In
the spring of the year an extent of miles around the
town presents to the eye a continued garden of roses,
than which, nothing can be more beautiful and fra-
grant. The sight is perfectly dazzling ; the plain, as
f 2

52

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

far as the eye can reach, extending in the same
bespangled carpet of red and green. The breezes,
too, are loaded with the sweet odour which is wafted
far across the river Ganges. The flower is cultivated
thus extensively for the manufacture of rosewater,
that of Ghazipore being justly esteemed as surpassing
in excellence every production of the sort. Whether
or not this may be attributable to the superiority of
the flowers, or the process of distillation, I cannot say ;
but as the roses did not appear to me to possess
greater fragrance than others of their class, I should
rather refer it to the latter cause ; unless, indeed, it be
that the wonderful abundance of the material enables
them to be more lavish in its decoction, than is else-
where possible. It is no less cheap than excellent :
a gallon of the most delicious may be purchased for
seven or eight shillings. They do not, however,
understand at Ghazipore, the art of distilling the
atr of roses in the same perfection as the Persians.
The spurious compound which they endeavour to
palm upon the traveller is weak, and possesses a sickly
disagreeable odour foreign to the rose ; but the pur-
chaser is often deceived by a little of the true atr
being rubbed about the stopper and neck of the bottle.
The prices demanded for this miserable imitation are
exorbitant ; the explanation of which I received from
one of the vendors ; he assured me that long ex-
perience had taught him, that it was part of the
character of the English to despise every thing cheap.

GHAZIPORE.

53

and to consider any thing choice and excellent which
was extravagantly priced.

The principal object of attraction in Ghazipore is
the palace of Sahadut Ali, which was built at the
commencement of the last century as a country resi-
dence for a Nawab of that name, one of the royal fa-
mily of Lncknou ; and also for the purpose of holding
some show of constraint over the people of Ghazipore ;
whom history declares to have been, from the remotest
ages, notorious for their turbulence and discontent, and
who still appear determined not to discredit their an-
cient reputation. The palace is a very beautiful speci-
men of Mogul architecture, and is in tolerable preser-
vation, though long since deserted by royalty. There
is a very finely proportioned arcade which forms the
subject of the illustration, and which is the most pic-
turesque part of the building. It forms a front and
entrance to the body of the palace, which is mounted
upon a high terrace of masonry surrounded with chan-
nels for water, and pools and basins of quaint device, in
which magnificent jets were once continually playing,
but which are now dry and choked with rubbish. The
palace itself is planned in the form of an oblong, in the
centre of which is a small audience-hall, tastefully deco-
rated and supported by pillars, in the same style as
those exhibited in the plate ; hut the chamber itself is
ridiculously small for its object. The angles of the
building are terminated in very elegant domed pavi-
lions, the windows of which are of white marble trellis-

54

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

work, admirably carved into flowers and running pat-
terns of a purely Eastern character. In one of them
is a mean marble slab inlaid in the wall, upon which are
engraved in Persian characters the words, f Izzat alia
taala Sahadut Ali,’ (To God the Almighty be praise !
Sahadut Ali :) without any of the usual string of title
and attribute. Parts of the structure are freestone
from Chunar, and other parts are built and ornamented
with red sandstone which must have been brought from
Allahabad. The site of the palace is particularly fine
and commanding ; and from the arcade, the view up
and down the Ganges is very varied and extensive. Up-
on a projecting angle of the river bank, it is mounted
about fifty feet above the stream, upon the top of an
abrupt precipice, protected by a parapet wall ; below it
are the remains of other stone buildings and fortifica -
tions ; but the greater part of the available ground has
been over run by huts and bazaar hovels, together
with a few tawdry Hindoo temples painted red and
white. Many of these which would otherwise prove
blots in the landscape are rendered highly picturesque
by overhanging clusters of the feathery bamboo and
tamarind ; and some of the roofs are thickly covered in
with a broad-leafed melon -plant, the fruit of which is
very large and, when ripe, of a deep gold color. All
that the scene requires is a handsome ghat, or flight
of steps, leading down to the water-side, in place of the
obnoxious pits and the burning-places for the dead
which now occupy the lower part of the bank.

GHAZIPORE.

55

It is strange indeed that the Hindoos, who will la-
vish lahks of rupees upon the construction of a temple
or a ghat , and who during many generations have had
before them the magnificent models of the houses, or
rather palaces of the Mussulmans, shall still continue
to inhabit the very meanest and most miserable abodes.
They are wonderfully ingenious in architecture, their
public buildings are as well adapted to their purposes
as they are infinite in their designs; the Hindoos them-
selves are fond of ease and luxury ; their lives when
relieved from their religious restraints are devoted to
pleasure ; their wealth is sacrificed to ostentation and
public display ; and yet their dwellings are mere huts
devoid of every sort of comfort. The opulent Hindoo,
who is boastfully dedicating the overflowings of his
treasury to the erection of monstrous pagodas and in-
terminable flights of steps, contentedly surveys the pro-
gress of the work from the door of his narrow hovel ;
consisting perhaps of only a single wretched apartment
for the accommodation of all his family ; while the
Mussulman with half this wealth is raising superb pa-
laces and lordly mansions, wherein to dwell in state,
his comforts reduced and coffers impoverished, for the
sake of the outward display of a handsome fa9ade. I
have more than once made remarks, and have expressed
my surprise upon the subject, to rich men and those of
high caste among the Hindoos. They allow that reli-
gious prejudice has nothing to do with it ; though en-
joined to be simple in their manners and abstemious in

o 6

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

their living, their creed by no means denies them the
luxuries and state of the palace : their best excuse is
the heat of the climate, which induces them to prefer
the air, in the shade of a virandah or a tree, to anything
like internal comfort or elegance in their house ; but
there is a more common explanation, and, I believe, the
true one, which serves the Hindoo as an answer to every
question which he either does not know how, or does
not care, to answer — “ dustoor hi,” “ it is the custom ”
— with them a most insuperable reason why no change
should be made, even for the better. Singularly con-
trasted as are the Hindoo and the Mussulman, as
though, from their mutual dislike, they had made it
their mutual study to become as dissimilar as possible,
there is no one distinction, perhaps, which divides
these two races of men more remarkably than the fa-
shion and arrangement of their respective habitations.

The natives of Ghazipore affirm that close in the vi-
cinity of this palace, there formerly stood a college for
the instruction of the people in literature and science ;
but that in consequence of the abuse of its pur-
pose, and the practice of forbidden mysteries and
Jaddoo, a peculiar system of witchcraft, it was de-
stroyed by the Gods. There is no mention of this
however in the Ayeen Akbari, the history of the
times of Akbar, written by Abul Fazil ; nor do the
inhabitants offer any evidence of its truth, beyond
the vague words of tradition and the traces of foun-
dations, which might certainly be those of a tern-

GHAZIPORE.

57

pie or palace. At all events there are no professors
of the black art now existing in the neighbourhood,
though, in other parts of India, those who practise
it are by no means rare. I had a servant of great
intelligence and insatiable curiosity, a native of Gha-
zipore, from whom I learnt many strange things
concerning the Hindoos of the place. Among other
things he described to me a sect of Brahmins who are
not supposed to be addicted to the practice of sorcery,
although very secret in their religious ceremonies,
and jealous of certain occult peculiarities of their
sect. Rejecting the belief of metempsychosis, which
is a very material object of the Hindoo faith, they had
adopted doctrines so singularly parallel with those of
Pythagoras in all other respects as to leave little doubt
as to their real origin. In the first place they teach
that the entire universe was created b}^ a Supreme
Deity ; that the souls of men were, before this life, pre-
existent in the divine being,* into which they will
ultimately be again merged, after having been purified
from all evil and earthly propensities.

These Hindoos are instructed by their priests, not
only in matters of religion, and the peculiar prejudices
and ceremonies of their order, but, also, in the ele-
ments of science and literature. Upon all their fol-

* This idea is most sublimely expressed by these Brahmins, in
likening the emanations from the divine spirit to the light and heat
given forth by the sun, whose essence is thereby neither diminished
nor dispersed.

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lowers a profound secrecy is imposed, as to the imme-
diate forms and observances with which their tenets are
bound up; they are subject entirely to the Brahmins
in the direction of their domestic affairs, and subsist
upon a common stock, which is in the hands of the
Brahmins. There is throughout all these features such
a wonderful resemblance to the doctrines of Pythagoras,
that we can only conclude that both spring from the
same source. The antiquarian who has not troubled
himself to investigate the strange discoveries of the
present century in the East will tell us it is probable
they were brought by some pilgrim from Egypt or
Chaldea, while the philosopher of Samos was teaching
in those countries. Of course there has been a consi-
derable admixture of Hindooism with the original
system ; a whole firmament of lesser divinities is framed
to suit the Hindoo mythology, but they are all in sub-
servience to the Supreme Being, who has created and
who upholds the universe. Here truly is most abun-
dant matter for speculation, and although aware that
this is not exactly its proper place, I cannot refrain
from alluding to the strange analogy existing between
the religious and social manners of the Hindoos and
Egyptians, of which this is a fresh instance. Early
education teaches us to regard Egypt as the well and
fountain-head of literature, science, and the arts, from
whence the streams have flowed on all sides throughout
the world : but notwithstanding classic authority, not-
withstanding the silence of Greek and Latin authors as

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59

to the civilization of the Hindoos, notwithstanding
their continual and consentient testimony in favour of
the Egyptians, and in despite of the bias of opinion
confirmed by the sanction of ages, the prejudices of
education, the predilections in favour of ancient and
established lore and history, in defiance of all inclina-
tion, it is daily becoming more and more a subject of
doubt and enquiry to the learned, whether the palm of
antiquity and priority of civilization is justly bestowed
upon the Egyptians, or whether it does not in truth
belong to the Hindoos.

In mentioning the particular sect of Hindoos, — for
such they call themselves, — above described, I have
encroached upon matter which I certainly should not
have selected for these pages, nor would it have been
introduced, had it not arisen necessarily in elucidation
of my subject. Having once touched it, I trust I shall
be excused for venturing to add another word or two,
in the hope of correcting a very general and vulgar
error regarding the religion of the Hindoos. I believe
that the majority of Christians in this country believe
that the “ stocks and stones ” to which the Hindoos
bow are the immediate and only object of their devo-
tion. It may be so in some very few instances, where
the people have been blinded, and the religion cor-
rupted, by the ignorance or artful designs of the
Brahmins : but this is the perversion, not the religion.
The numberless idols are intended and explained by
the Poor am, or holy commentaries, to be emblems only

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of the infinite power and wisdom of the Supreme God,
of whose countless attributes, collectively, our narrow
minds can form no adequate conception ; and being
unable to embody the entire divinity in any abstract
idea, recourse is had to a separation of the attributes,
by which process alone the human intellect can ever
duly appreciate the unlimited extent and supremity of
this Spirit of Wisdom.” This is evidently intended,
from the circumstance that the Hindoos have no image
of Brahma, the Great God. There is scarcely one
Christian in ten who appears to understand that this
belief is inculcated by the Hindoo religion. The
Hindoos have no religious hatred of other faiths : their
antipathy to the Mussulmans arose, not against their
religion, but in consequence of usurpations and op-
pression : they admit no proselytes, and they aver an
opinion that God has given to all people that worship
which is best adapted to their own country and habits.
The preface to the Brahminical translation of Hindoo
laws and observances runs in these words, as translated
by Mr. Halhed : “ The truly intelligent well know
that the difference and variety of created things, and
the contrarieties of constitutions, are types of Gods
wonderful attributes, whose complete power formed all
things in the animal, vegetable, and material world ;
whose benevolence selected man to have dominion and
authority over the rest ; who having bestowed on him
judgment and understanding, gave him supremacy
over the corners of the world ; who having put into his

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61

hands the control and disposal of things, appointed to
each tribe its own religion ; and who instituted a va-
riety of castes, and a multitude of different customs,
but views with pleasure in every place the mode of
worship particularly appointed to it ; He is with the
attendants upon the mosque in counting the sacred
beads, as much as He is in the temple with the Hin-
doos at the adoration of the idols.” To the greater
number of my readers I believe this view of Hindooism
will be new and unexpected ; but it is familiar to all
who have travelled in India, and it is certainly extra-
ordinary that the truth has not, long since, become
universally known. I cannot help thinking that it is
frequently withheld, lest the Christian public should
relax in their efforts of conversion among these people.

At the distance of about two miles from the river
side are some extensive Hindoo ruins of serais and
temples, apparently very ancient, and also several
Mussulman tombs and mosques of more recent dates.
Among the former are the remains of a serai of con-
siderable dimensions, part of which is still in sufficiently
good preservation for the accommodation of those tra-
vellers who are not very particular about the appear-
ance of their resting-place, or who are superior to the
nervous restlessness experienced b}^ some timorous
persons when musing upon the dimensions of a gaping
chasm in the architecture over-head, from which the
loosened mortar does occasionally come rattling down,

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but only perhaps when shaken by the sportive gam-
bols of some passing elephant.

The gardens of the natives are here exceedingly
pretty ; but some of them almost overpower the refined
nasal susceptibility of the European, the most power-
fully aromatic plants being cultivated for the purpose
of distillation. There are also some very beautiful
tanks, or sacred artificial basins of water, and several
monuments, erected as memorials of suttis which have
been performed upon the spot. These generally con-
sist of a mere rude pile of masonry, from ten to twenty
feet high, of a conical form, and whitewashed ; hut in
my wanderings about the place, I came upon one of a
more perishable nature, the intent of which I should
not have discovered but for the explanation of a Hin-
doo, who being a near relative of the self-sacrificed
widow, had built a small hut near it, and made it his
business to tend and decorate it. It was a thick
bower, formed by interlacing the flexile stems of
bamboo, the interior of which was of a conical form,
presenting very much the appearance of an ever-green
temple ; upon the side opposite the entrance was a
rudely carved trunk of wood, intended to represent the
figure of the widow ; around the apartment were
ranged different small gods, one or two of stone or
wood, but the greater number of clay; garlands of
flowers were hung round over these, and long branches
of the chumbeli , or double-blossomed jessamine, twined

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63

in a spiral form, hung pendent from the centre. At
the urgent petition of the old man I did not enter this
sacred arbour, hut I was rather encouraged to gaze
upon it from the entrance by his communicative dis-
position, although by his continual allusions to his
extreme poverty and my unlimited wealth, I was per-
suaded that his forward civilities were prompted by
the hope of alms. I promised him some small coin
if he would relate to me the story of

THE SUTTI.

He very readily complied, to the following effect;
having first begged permission to seat himself, on
the plea of his great age and infirmity ; for it fortu
nately happens that all, or nearly all the natives
whom we find in these picturesque situations are
tottering with venerable years ; the young and active
being required to devote their powers to the support
of their families. Having seated himself upon his
heels, a gymnastic feat which all the natives of Hin-
dostan practise from infancy, he thus commenced
his tale with a proem worthy of a court.

“ Protector of the Poor, good fortune is written
upon your brow ; may your proper destiny never he
thwarted by your evil genius; may you be as suc-
cessful in all your great undertakings as you are
fortunate in the less important objects of your will.
Yes, chosen of heaven, you are very fortunate in
g 2

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having applied to your devoted slave Baba Kulloo
for the information you require. Though no better
than an insect in the greatness of your honour’s
presence, who is there that is able to speak of the
heroism, the triumphant virtue, of the beautiful Lall
Radha, with better assurance of truth, than her own
nephew Babba Kulloo ? whose hand supported her
during the long illness of Bhagut, her husband, whose
hand kindled the sacred pile, and whose hand gathered
the blackened bones. As long as it shall please
the great Brahma to grant me life and sufficient
strength, I will not fail daily to sprinkle this spot
with the milk of the holy cow and the purifying
water of the sacred Ganges, in honour of that great
and glorious day.

“ Great Sir, I am told that the Sahib log (gentle-
men, applied as a term of distinction to the English)
believe that we were wont to compel our widows
to this sacrifice, before they extended the arm of
power to prevent us. This is quite erroneous. The
Shastra most urgently forbids force to be used ; the
sacrifice must be perfectly voluntary in all its stages
to be acceptable to the divine Brahma. Coercion could
not be employed without dishonour to the Brahmins
and the widow’s friends, while the virtue of the sacri-
fice would be lost. Our sacred law does not exact
or command a compliance with this rite, though it
certainly approves of and encourages it. The most
emphatic words upon the subject are these; ‘It is

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65

proper for a woman to cast herself upon the funeral
pile of her husband/* but there is no strict command j
neither are there any denunciations against such as
may neglect this holy sacrifice, although it is true
that glory and blessings in a future state are pro-
mised as a reward to those who observe it. Those
who decline the trial are commanded to cut off their
hair, cast off their ornaments, to observe inviolable
chastity, and to labour in the service of their children.
What more could be required ? except among those
people whose widows are taken to wife by the brothers

* In the Pooran of Angira it is thus written. “ The woman who
mounts the funeral pile of her deceased husband equals herself to
Arundhoti, the wife of Yashista, and enjoys bliss in heaven -with her
husband. She dwells with him in heaven for thirty-five millions of
years, which is equal to the number of hairs upon the human body,
and by her own power taking her husband up, in the same manner
as a snake-catcher would take a snake out of its hole, remains with
him in diversion. She who thus goes with her husband to the other world
purifies three generations, that is, the generations of her mother’s side,
father’s side, and husband’s side; and so she being reckoned the purest
and the best in fame among women, becomes too dear to her husband,
and continues to delight him during fourteen Indras, and although her
husband be guilty of slaying a Brahmin or friend, or be ungrateful of
past deeds, yet is his wife capable of purifying him from all these sins.”
Here the reward promised is not everlasting, hut only for a stated term.
Now eternal bliss, “ absorption in Brahma,” is promised throughout
the Shastras to those who continue to lead a holy and religious life, in
thorough purity, and in the regular fulfilment of Brahma’s commands.
These words are quoted from the Veda; “By living in the practice of
regular duties the mind may be purified. Hereafter by hearing,
reflecting, and constantly meditating upon the Supreme Being, ab-
sorption in Brahma may be attained. Therefore, from a desire dur-
ing life of future fruition, life ought not to be destroyed.” Thus is a
pure and holy life inculcated as infinitely more acceptable to Brahma
than self-immolation on the funeral pile.

G 3

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of the deceased. But with the prospect of long ages
of bliss in the glorious mansions of paradise upon the
one hand, and the sight of a dreary and dismantled
home of servitude and degradation on the other, who
would he slow to choose ? Who would hesitate to
hurry through the fiery portals, to the gardens of
heavenly joy and splendour, when to linger is to he
excluded for ever ; and this for the sake of wandering
on a few more hours over the barren scorching wilds
of a joyless and solitary desert. Hear how the wise
and faithful Lall Radha made her choice. As she had
been kind and dutiful to her husband in life, so was
she not to be restrained from hastening, at once, to join
him in that future world of pure delight, which already
she had won for herself by her devoted life —

‘ She was a pearl too chaste on earth to dwell
And waste her splendour in this earthly shell.’*

May she for ever enjoy a glorious fulfilment of the
divine Brahmas promise !

“Your slave’s father, whose name was Dewal, and
Bhagut, the husband of Lall Radha, were twins, the
only children of my grandfather, a man of the Khetri
caste, highly esteemed by his relations and his friends
for his equal temper, his suavity of manners, his good
sense, and ready courage. In his youth he was re-
markable for the noble beauty of his countenance,
great activity and bodily strength, together with a

* Arabic Poem.

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67

most princely bearing. Being moreover a man of
great piety, he was beloved among the Brahmins, and
by them he was persuaded to embrace the active duties
of his caste and join the forces of the Maharliattas,
under the banners of Madhaji Scindia, who was then
in co-operation with Trimbuck Mamma, to oppose
the daily injuries which were practised against the
religious notions of the Hindoos, both by the Ma-
hommedan and British powers ; who not only before
our eyes delighted to insult our religion, by overbur-
dening and cruelly treating the ox, but hesitated not
to slay and feed upon that sacred animal. Madhaji
Scindia was careful to observe and protect, even in his
times of greatest difficulty, all the rites and ceremonies
of our faith ; and to him we looked to repel the wanton
attacks of our insulting foes.

“ It was the good fortune of my grandfather, during
the first few years of his service, to distinguish him-
self in many successive actions, by which he obtained
both fame and riches; but in the year 1771, when
opposed to Hyder Ali, he is said to have wrought won-
ders in battle. The army of that chief was utterly
routed, fifteen thousand of his choicest troops lay dead
upon the field : my noble grandsire, supported by ten
of his own followers, had hewn his way, through the
ranks of the enemy, to the very person of the Moslem
chief, to whom he offered quarter, claiming him as his
prisoner. Hyder Ali was for a moment aghast at his
peril, but seeing that the day was lost and his person

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at the mercy of a very small band of the enemy, he
called lustily upon his guards for rescue, and, in a
second, seven of his captors were prostrate on the plain,
and my grandfather and three of his gallant men were
taken prisoners and hurried from the field in rapid
flight.

“ Hyder was excited to frenzy by the unexpected
loss of a victory which he had already called his own,
and by the disproportionate carnage between his own
ranks and those of the foe ; moreover he was stirred
to fury and revenge by the sight of the princely forms
and demeanour of the few prisoners whom he had
carried off. From his darkly clouded brow he cast
upon them a glance of envious hate and rage, and,
in a voice of thunder, commanded them to be shot
like dogs and exposed to the vultures. Then recalling
his sentence he cried with a fiendish laugh; 'Nay! let
these Pagans bear witness how greatly we esteem
their boasted beauty and their prowess. It were
cruel to withhold such able gallants from their anxious
loves, their weeping mistresses ; 'twere cruel to keep
back such god-like heroes from their victorious and
rejoicing comrades. Unbind them] give them their
liberty ; restore them to their fond flatterers and their
noble compatriots. Let them go and tell of their
glorious deeds among our people ; how they took
Hyder Ali prisoner with all his army and earned
them into a far land and barred them in rocky pri-
sons; or let them modestly discount the value of

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their heroic deeds, by telling of the craven-hearted
fear and shrinking cowardice of their victims. Cast
off those paltry cords from the hands of these demi-
gods ; arm them with costly and well-tried weapons •
fill well their girdles with gold ; and mounting them
upon the noblest Arabs in my camp, with abject
deference and all courtly honour set them forth upon
their journey. But, ere they depart, to render them
more worthy the caresses of their queens, more
eloquent in their own praise and our disgrace, more
powerful in battle when next we meet, just clip their
ears_ and noses from their heads, burn out their
tongues, take from them the fingers of the right
hand, and snap in twain the bones of their right arms.
Hence! Nay; herein my presence shall this com-
pliment he paid them/

“ Thus mutilated did my grandfather return tojthe
camp of the conqueror with his three followers, and
shortly hence retired to Ghazipore, where his relations
dwelt, and where he had left his wife and two sons for
protection. He did not long survive his cruel misfor-
tune ; but praised be Brahma, ere he died he was deeply
avenged on his mutilators ; for shortly after his return
to the camp, the Maharhatta army captured a whole
regiment of Hyder Ali’s sipahies, and retaliated upon
them the same punishment, sending them to hail their
chief, tied back to back, with black banners flying
between them. Under these painful circumstances
were my father and Bhagut, my uncle, deprived of both

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their parents while they were yet boys, for my grand-
mother did not hesitate to follow her deceased lord to the
funeral pile. Yonder is the mhut which records her
virtue. Praised be Brahma !

“ The estate of my grandsire was equally divided
between his twin sons, Bhagut and my father ; but
they being still children, their property was placed in
the charge of their relations, who faithlessly squandered
the greater portion of it for their own enjoyment ; —
may they meet with their reward ! — And thus our
family became again impoverished, and were compelled
to seek such employment as was consistent with their
caste. Having both been betrothed in marriage shortly
before their father’s death, they in their youth thirsted
for glory, and promising to return in the course of two
years to claim their brides, they enlisted under the
standards of the Maharhattas, and marched against the
English forces ; but Brahma was not pleased that they
should engage in the dangers of warfare, for Hyder Ali
having at this time invaded the Carnatic, the British
General in 1802 concluded a treaty of peace with the
Maharhattas, restoring all conquest except the island of
Salsette ; and the arms of the Maharhattas being hence-
forward frequently turned against the peaceful occu-
piers of the soil, Bhagut and my father became
disgusted with their marauding system of plunder, and
returned to Ghazipore ; where they claimed their brides
and took them home to the house which they shared in

common.

GHAZIPORE.

71

“ Be pleased for a moment. Protector of the Poor,
to regard the now faded features and the no-longer-
youthful frame of your humble slave.” Here the old
man reared himself to the height of his stature, looking
proudly around him. " Do you not confess that,
although now time-worn and care-worn, and at all
times insignificant in your honour’s presence, the son
of Dewal has in his youth possessed both strength and
grace and beauty ? If so, how much more perfect
was Dewal himself. Dewal and Bhagut were almost
as remarkable for their noble bearing and their beauty
as was their father, and the divine Brahma saw fit to
bless them with wives of equal loveliness and excel-
lence. The first years of their married life, though
spent in the absence of wealth and grandeur, were those
of happiness and mutual delight. But, alas ! human
felicity can never be complete. The content and
satisfaction which at first reigned within our dwelling
were sadly broken up, when, as the seasons came and
passed away, the amiable Lall Radha remained un-
blessed with any offspring ; while in the course of six
years my mother’s family consisted of no less than five.
Neither envy nor jealousy entered the heart of that
excellent woman, though daily her cheek sunk with se-
cret grief, and the hilarity of youth and happiness fled
from her languid hut all-beautiful form. It was evident
that the displeasure of God was upon her or her hus-
band ; fasting and penance, prayer and sacrifice were
alike ineffectual ; and at last the devout Bhagut resolved

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to perform a pilgrimage to Allahabad and Hurd war,
observing the most rigorous vows of toil and abstinence
to remove the displeasure of the great Brahma; but he
was compelled, in compliance with the entreaties of his
brother and sister-in-law, to leave his darling partner
under their care and protection, her daily declining health
rendering her quite unable to attempt the journey.

“ The resolute Bhagut tore himself from the en-
twined arms of his wife, and commenced his painful
pilgrimage. From that day the oppression of sickness
began to be removed from the life of Lall Radha, and
in a very few months the bright hue of health resumed
its resting place on her soft cheek. Her glancing eye,
her once more musical voice spoke joy, and hope, and
confidence in the safe and happy return of Bhagut.
The days rolled round, the weeks and months passed
on, and, as Bhagut returned not, anxiety took posses-
sion of her heart : still her fears were only such as a
wife’s love of necessity entertains ; though her religious
confidence was for a moment dashed with heart-heaving
apprehension, it was unspoken, and the next moment
dispelled with penitence for her unholy doubt.

A year had passed away since Bhagut had taken his
departure. It was the anniversary of that occurrence,
and the beautiful Lall Radha, full of joy and hope, spoke
with energetic faith her assurance that the long absent
pilgrim would return that day. Having performed
her ablutions and devotion, she dressed herself with
more than usual care, and putting on her bridal orna-

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73

ments, decorated her glossy hair with a flower of the
water-lily. Throughout the sultry day we passed our
time under the thick and fragrant shade of the drooping
bamboos, my mother and the beautiful Lall Radha
being employed with their favourite operation of spin-
ning. Lively and full of hope, Lall Radha continued
to pursue her task, her quick eye glancing continually
in all directions, but still without unseemly fear or
doubt. Even as the sun declined towards the west, no
change was visible, except that, perhaps, her spirit rose
anew, and the blush of health upon her cheek deepened
its colour. Suddenly a long and piercing shriek rung
through the air, re-echoed back by the surrounding
woods; and lo ! a ghastly and emaciated being, more
resembling the grim phantoms of the dead than any-
thing of human life, lay prostrate on the earth before
the terrified Lall Radha, kissing her feet, and grasping
her knees with the cold and heavy grip of exhausted
strength. It was the pilgrim Bhagut, who, with a last
effort of his fainting energies, had dragged himself
through the boughs of bamboo, and cast himself at the
feet of his adored wife, the cruel privations of his pil-
grimage fully remunerated by seeing his beloved one
restored to health and all her youthful beauty, whom
he had despaired of ever meeting more in this life.

“ All that the kindest care and attention of a fond
wife and devoted relations could do for the nourishment
of the emaciated and enfeebled Bhagut was tenderly
bestowed upon him ; but alas ! his condition was sad

H

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indeed, his strength destroyed, and his constitution un-
dermined. For a few months he somewhat recovered
from his extreme debility, and was enabled to give an
account of his hard and dangerous pilgrimage ; but
disease had sapped the foundations of his life, and it
was evident that he could not much longer continue
with us. He lingered in trial and suffering about two
years after his return, and then was gathered to his
fathers. May God reward his excellence ! At the time
of Bhagut’s death I was about fourteen years of age,
and throughout his illness I had not ceased to aid and
comfort both him and the incomparable Lall Radha.
When the torch of life was about to expire, we carried
him to the Ganges bank, and placed him over the
sacred stream until animation had fled ; and this had
no sooner taken place than the heroic Lall Radha de-
clared her intention of burning with the corpse of her
beloved. May the great Brahma be graciously pleased
by long expiation on our parts to forgive us ! I re-
gret to confess that so dearly was our beautiful relative
beloved, that we joined in one voice to dissuade her
from her holy purpose ; but, God be praised, she was
proof against our evil temptations, her determination
was inflexible ; she turned a deaf ear to our entreaties,
and even reproved the Brahmins for lukewarmness:
for when they beheld her exceeding beauty they fal-
tered in their commendations of her choice.

“ Fearing intervention from the British authorities
it was decided that this solemn rite, contrary to the

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75

usual practice, should be performed at a distance from
the river side; the margin of the consecrated tank
was selected for the purpose. After ceremonies of
purification had been performed upon the spot, strong-
stakes of bamboo were driven into the ground, en-
closing an oblong space* about seven feet in length,
and six in breadth, the stakes being about eight feet in
height : within this enclosure the pile was built of
straw, and boughs, and logs of wood : upon the top a
small arbour was constructed of wreathed bamboos,
and this was hung with flowers within and without.
About an hour after the sun had risen, prayers and
ablutions having been carefully and devoutly per-
formed by all, more especially by the Brahmins and
Lall Radha, who was also otherwise purified and
fitted for the sacrifice, the corpse of the deceased
husband was brought from the house, attended by the
administering Brahmins, and surrounded by the
silent and weeping friends and relations of the family.
Immediately following the corpse came Lall Radha,
enveloped in a scarlet veil which completely hid her
beautiful person from view. When the body was
placed upon the pile, the feet being towards the west,
the Brahmins took the veil from Lall Radha, and,
for the first time, the glaring multitude were suffered

* It is worthy of remark, that aU castes of the Hindoos have a su-
perstitious prejudice against anything which is square, and will
invariably find some expedient for altering its dimensions, either
by cutting off or adding, or by removing the corners of such a
figure.

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to gaze upon that lovely face and form ; but the holy
woman was too deeply engaged in solemn prayer and
converse with Brahma to be sensible of their pre-
sence, or of the murmur of admiration which ran
through the crowd. Then turning with a steady
look and solemn demeanour to her relations, she
took from her person, one by one, all her ornaments,
and distributed them as tokens of her love. One
jewel only she retained, the tali , or amulet placed
round her neck by her deceased husband on the
nuptial day ; this she silently pressed to her lips,
then separately embracing each of her female relations,
and bestowing a farewell look upon the rest, she
unbound her hair, which flowed in thick and shining
ringlets almost to her feet, gave her right hand to
the principal Brahmin, who led her with ceremony
three times round the pile, and then stopped with
her face towards it, upon the side where she was to
ascend. Having mounted two or three steps, the
beautiful woman stood still, and pressing her hands
upon the cold feet of her lifeless husband, she raised
them to her forehead, in token of cheerful submis-
sion: she then ascended, and crept within the little
arbour, seating herself at the head of her lord, her
right hand resting upon his head. The torch was
placed in my hand, and overwhelmed with com-
mingled emotions I fired the pile. Smoke and flame
in an instant enveloped the scene, and amid the
deafening shouts of the multi tnde I sank senseless

GHAZXPORE.

77

upon the earth. I was quickly restored to sense, hut
already the devouring element had reduced the
funeral pile to a heap of charred and smouldering
timber. The assembled Brahmins strewed the ashes
around, and with a trembling hand I assisted my
father to gather the blackened bones of my beloved
uncle and aunt, when having placed them in an
earthen vessel we carried them to the Ganges, and
with prayer and reverence committed them to the
sacred stream.

“ My mother died not many months after the sutti
had taken place, having set her affections upon a
future state of bliss with Lall Radha ; and my father
did not many years survive her. Your slave married,
and has been blessed with three sons, who are ser-
vants to your noble countrymen, whom may God
long preserve to distribute peace and justice among
us ! I am quickly going down to the Ganges, and
until that day of release shall arrive, I am content to
live in this humble hut, and guard and decorate this
arbour, for which God rewards me by occasional alms
from the charitable.”

I ordered my attendant to disburse from my
treasury to Baba Kulloo the sum of eight annas
(about ten pence), for which unexampled display
of generosity my ears were refreshed with abundant
streams of the most hyperbolical praise and blessing,
so long as I continued within reach of the old man’s

h 3

voice.

78

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

Among the numerous ruins, both Hindoo and
Mussulman, before mentioned, as being worthy the
traveller’s notice at this place, there appear to be re-
liques of all ages. In some instances, where, by the
accumulation of material, it is evident that a very
large fabric has stood, even the stone itself is fast
mouldering to dust ; in other cases buildings are
found entire and in excellent preservation „ Abutting
upon the north side of the bazaar is an elegant mosque
of no great antiquity, but deserving notice from the
peculiar style of its domes and minarets. The ac-
companying plate gives a complete view of the build-
ing, which, it is trusted, will be intelligible without
the necessity of a long verbal description. It is built
of stone and small brick, stuccoed both outside and
within, with here and there a carved cornice of coarse
marble projecting from the plaster. The form is good,
and the effect somewhat grand, but there is none of
the finish and costly workmanship which is bestowed
upon these buildings in the Doab and the countries
farther westward. This mosque is kept in repair for
the purposes of devotion, several priests being attached
to its service ; it is frequented by most of the respect-
able Mussulmans in Ghazipore, and is sometimes an
object of attraction to men of rank and distinction
round about.

In the rear of the mosque is a large well, down
which it is reported that Aurungzebe thrust the
wives of fifty young Hindoos, after he had cruelly

GHAZIPORE,

79

put the youths themselves to the sword. Truly
it seems as if every object which we explore in India
must have some fearful tale of massacre or bloodshed
attached to it, which cannot fail to excite our sympa-
thies, and show us the evils of barbarism, the merciless
dealings of those whose savage hearts have not been
humanized by culture and civilization. It is only
wonderful that in the storm of war and zealous bigotry
which not long since raged throughout Hindostan
and deluged the land with blood from north to south,
dyeing the rivers purple with human gore, and scat-
tering the terrified inhabitants from their homes, to
seek refuge in the deep cover of the forest, until reta-
liation could be safely enjoyed ; I say it is surprising
that any religious buildings of either faith remain at
all to this day.

But it is not a little remarkable that while the
Mussulman armies were devastating and subverting
every temple and every religious edifice of the Hin-
doos, which they could bring under their destroying
hands, the Hindoos themselves paid due respect to
the mosques and sacred buildings of their enemies,
nor were they ever guilty of their mutilation. It is the
nature of superstition to be swayed more by fear than
by hope, and the credulity of the Hindoo is not more
remarkable than his tolerance of, or even his reverence
for other religious faiths. A conscientious Hindoo
would esteem it a crime to deface a Moslem place
of sanctity, or a Christian church, and would anti-

80

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cipate retribution for such an offence. For the same
reason it will be found, that powerful as is the per-
sonal antipathy still existing between the two people,
the Hindoo is constantly found paying the same
tokens of fear and reverence to the Mahommedan
saints as to the gods of his own mythology. Con-
tinually we behold the half-starved pilgrim bestowing
alms upon the Mussulman mendicant, for the sake
of his prayers and blessings, and not unfrequently
will the observant Hindoo pay a devout reverence on
passing a Christian church or place of burial. Thus,
while the Moslems have polluted, destroyed, and
pillaged all the sacred edifices and treasures which
they could wrest from the Hindoos, their own mosques
and" sacerdotal accumulations have remained intact,
except in moments of ungovernable excitement and
exasperation. In answer to a question which I once
put to a Hindoo upon this subject, I was told, that
should a man of any caste forget his religious obli-
gation to hold sacred, and undefiled, and uninjured
all places of worship whatsoever, he would have in-
curred the heavy displeasure of the gods, who would
not accept his offerings of flowers, and would also
have averted the favour of the spirits of his fore-
fathers, who would reject his libations of holy water
until full expiation should have been made for the
offence. It is sufficient for the sincere Hindoo that
these things are commanded in the Shastras ; it would
be sacrilege even in a Brahmin to enquire the reason

GHAZIPORE.

81

why such observances have been established by holy
law. If they have been ordered, they must be infalli-
bly wise and salutary, and are therefore performed
without hesitation, whether the tendency be proved to
be good or evil.

But while the tolerant Hindoo is careful to avoid a
slight or passing offence even to the sacred things of
an inimicable faith, he may at the same moment, with
an easy conscience, be practising and encouraging the
most demoralising and debasing acts ; his inward ease
and satisfaction depending on falsehood rather than on
truth, on chicanery rather than on justice or innocence ;
virtuous independence is utterly lost, perjury and every
species of corruption may be indulged in, so long as
they are not contrary to the exact letter of the law ; the
most daring crime, the most profligate oppression may
be practised without remorse, without fear of public
execration or retribution, if the authority of the
Shastras, the Vedans, or the Poorans, can be brought
to support it ; at the same time that the most trifling-
breach of morality will disquiet and render miserable
the unfortunate aggressor, if the laws have forbidden
it. With the Hindoos, two things are infallible and
not to be resisted; the commands of their Shastras,
and the commands of their chiefs.

82

BENARES.

INFANTICID E.

Hear it not ye stars !

And thou pale moon! turn paler at the sound.

Young.

The great and holy city of Benares has been too
frequently, and too ably described, to require in these
pages any detailed account, of its character and general
appearance. Aurungzebe’s towering mosque, out-top-
ping the thousand Hindoo temples, the gilded domes,
the painted cupolas, and strangely diverse forms of
spire and turret, together with the noble flights of
steps, the hanging balconies and terraced ghats , have
been the favourite theme of each successive traveller
who has visited this famous spot. Benares is the
centre point of Hindoo wealth, of Hindoo traffic, of
Hindoo learning and science, of Hindoo display,
and of Hindoo superstition, fanaticism, and crime.
All these are here made to assume the most imposing
forms, and are calculated to astonish and disgust the
European, no less than they delude the credulous
Hindoo. I remember to have seen in the writings

BENARES.

83

of some traveller — the Abbe Dubois, I think-— a hu-
mourous division of the Hindoo population into two
classes, the dupes and the impostors; the former
embracing all the various castes except one, and the
latter, the Brahmins, forming that exception. Of the
scene which Benares exhibits during the Doorga
Pooja, and other religious festivals, it is altogether
beyond the power of words to convey any just idea.
The temples and other buildings, painted and deco-
rated with flags for the occasion, appear to stand in
a rolling sea of human beings, so dense is the mass
of pilgrims which obstructs the narrow streets, and
spreads itself over every spot of ground where there
is room for the foot to rest. The deafening shouts
and screams, and blowing of horns, the overpowering
heat and sickening effluvia can hardly be acceptable
to the gods ; they are altogether beyond the ability
of mortal endurance ; hundreds of lives are lost in
the press, and, unless dispersed by the hand of timely
authority, the obnoxious multitude is sure to produce
a pestilence within the city.

As the temples are infinitely various in appearance,
so are the innumerable castes and tribes who fre-
quent the place; it being not only a rendezvous for
pilgrims, but the resort of merchants, pedlars, thieves,
and mendicants, from all quarters of the East, whose
personal appearance and costume are equally dissimi-
lar. Let the reader who may wish them enume-
rated and described run his eye over a map of Asia,

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and refer to the history of each division, he will
readily allow the necessity of omitting such a passage,
however picturesque it might he ; unless, indeed, the
weighty taste of our ancestors should suddenly return
and convert our petit annuals into the profound folios,
those “harbours of inexpungable ignorance,” of the
olden time.

The ancient name of Benares is Kasi (the mag-
nificent), and by this it is still called among the
Brahmins, w'hose history of the place is so authentic
and entertaining as to deserve a few lines where an
uninteresting statistical account is not allowed even
a few words. For a trifling sum of money this
history may be obtained viva voce from any Brah-
min ; I thus became possessed of it, and being struck
with the effect imparted to it by the manner of rela-
tion, I shall as nearly as possible adhere to the priest’s
words.

“ It is commonly thought by Christians, Mohamme-
dans, and others who are unacquainted with the truth,
that this Holy City of Kasi rests upon a portion of
this earth, but such an opinion is altogether erroneous,,
as it has been revealed to us by the gods, and as our
senses are at times permitted to discover. The world
itself, since the day of its creation, has remained sup-
ported upon the thousand heads of the serpent Ananta
(eternity), and so it will continue to be upheld until
the command of Brahma shall be proclaimed for it to
he for ever enveloped in the coils of that interminable

BENARES.

85

deity. Now, when the j udgment takes place, the City
of Kasi, with a circumference of seven kos (about ten
miles) from its centre, will alone remain firm ; for it
rests not upon the heads of Ananta, hut is fixed upon
the three points of the trident of Siva or Mahadeo, to
whose care it will he entrusted. All who now die
within its walls are blessed, and those who are found
within it on that eventful day shall be blessed a
thousand-fold. Ages before the Mahommedan con-
quest of this city by Sultan Mohammed, which
happened in the eleventh century ; ages before it was
made subservient to the Patans, which was a hundred
centuries earlier ; ages before Kasi was the second
capital of the Hindoo kingdom of Kanaoj, which was
the case a hundred centuries before that ; ages before his-
tory has any record, Siva built this wonderful city — -of
the purest gold, and all its temples of precious stones ;
but, alas ! the iniquity of man contaminates and de-
stroys the beauty of every thing divine ; in consequence
of the heinous sins of the people, the precious mate-
rial of this sacred place was deteriorated, and eventually
changed into stone, by permission of the founder Siva.
No sooner had this been effected, than Viasa, that
god-like sage, who with infinite wisdom compiled the
sacred Vedas, having conceived a jealousy for the
renown and splendour of Siva’s glorious city, encou_
raged by the fall of its magnificence, came hastily
with his followers and a large company of workmen,
and encamped upon the bank of the Ganges, imme-

i

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diately opposite to Benares ; and then and there
proclaimed his design of building a more splendid
city than the favourite of the god Siva, which it should
eclipse and eventually swallow up, even though the
new city should be suspended over the Ganges bed.
This loud proclamation Viasa caused to be sounded
abroad for the purpose of alluring from Kasi the skil -
ful craftsmen and artificers, for the more perfect
execution of his design. Siva was not deaf to the
news which threatened to destroy his capital, but
being unwilling openly to oppose the schemes of
Viasa, to whom he was otherwise greatly indebted, he
commissioned his first-born son, Genesa, the god of
wisdom and artifice, to undermine and subvert the
plots of his new enemy. Genesa, having entered the
camp of the sage Viasa as an idler and one seeking
employment, offered his services as a labourer upon
this great undertaking ; but Viasa beholding the ex-
ceeding skill and shrewdness of the new comer, took
him into his favour, explained to him his designs, and
sought his counsel in all difficulties. Thus Genesa
made himself fully acquainted with the intentions of
the projector, and finding that nothing short of destruc-
tion to Kasi would satisfy his inordinate jealousy, he
so perplexed his master with abstruse and insolvable
propositions, that Viasa became displeased, and could
not restrain himself from giving vent to his wrath in
words of anger and opprobrium. This was the exact
purpose of Genesa’s behaviour, he being well persuaded

BENARES.

87

that ‘ with the wise man, impatience is the commence-
ment of folly.’ He therefore continued daily to renew
his questions, and sorely vexed his master, until at
last, he enquired what reward would be granted by the
great Brahma, in the next world, to those who should
be born, or those who should die, within the new city.
To this the venerable Viasa could make no reply ; he
was conscious that he could not with truth make any
promises in the name of the great Brahma, his design
having commenced without his divine command ; and
he did not dare to declare that no reward was allotted
for such of his people, lest they should desert his
newly raised walls, and return to the chosen city of
Siva ; so he held his peace. But the cunning Genesa,
having thus perplexed the sage, continued during seven
days to follow him with importunity for an answer,
in presence of the assembled throng ; and this per-
tinacious behaviour of the disguised god of wisdom so
exasperated Viasa, that at last, in a sudden ebullition
of wrath, he declared that after death their souls would
transmigrate, and re-appear upon earth in the forms of
asses. This so terrified all the people and the work-
men, that they immediately deserted the city, nor
could any be prevailed upon to complete it. The
walls and foundations of the palaces and temples
remain to this day upon the opposite bank, and are
called the Shahur of Viasa Kasi. Siva, being thus
relieved from his presumptuous rival, promised to
restore his city to its pristine magnificence if the in-

i 2

88

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

habitants would resume their original purity of life,
hut they did not heed his wishes, nor ceased their evil
practices, and thus they have continued to live through
successive generations, the countenance of the god
Siva being half averted from them. Lately, as it may
he seen, the excesses and wickedness of the inhabitants
are again increasing, and now the indignant Siva is
beginning to display his anger by turning the stone
edifices into huts of mud and thatch.”

All this is what has been revealed to the Brahmins
by the gods; but being desirous of knowing some-
thing about those evidences of the city’s independence
of this earth, which the Brahmins had assured me
were at times disclosed to human perception, I put
some questions upon the subject ; and for the satis-
faction of my curiosity was supplied with the fol-
lowing facts. Frequently, when the monsoon opens
with a deluge of rain upon the surrounding country,
not a drop falls within the sacred limits of Benares ;
while at other times it will shower down abundantly
upon the city when the parched soil around is vainly
panting for moisture. At times it will occur, that
while the tempest and the hurricane are devastating
the whole country round about, sweeping away the
villages, uprooting the forests, and levelling the crops ;
the holy Kasi will remain quiescent and unhurt. The
lightnings will consume whole towns, the thunders
shake citadels from their lofty foundations, while Be-
nares, upheld from injury, remains intact ; or, when

BENARES.

89

the terrible Siva has just cause to inflict punishment,
the fire has come down and devoured their temples,
while the country around has received no such chas-
tisement. And again, which proves beyond a doubt
the city’s isolated position, the earthquakes, which
have undulated through the adjacent plains, upsetting
every description of building in their desolating pro-
gress, have never been known to approach within the
charmed limits of their seven Jcos ; while the up-
heaved land and tottering hills, at no great distance,
have given fearful proof of the power at work without ;
the history of untold ages records that no symptom of
such a convulsion, ever so slight, has been known or
felt in Benares.

It has been computed, that out of the six hundred
thousand souls who form the population of Benares,
eighty thousand are officiating Brahmins attached to
the temples, exclusive of the thousands who daily visit
it from other parts of the country. It is not, however,
to be supposed, that this immense multitude of priests
subsist entirely upon the charity or the fees of their
congregations. It is true that a small tribute is re-
ceived by them from all whom they assist by their
prayers or their advice, and during festivals, every
devout passenger casts a mite into their treasury; but
this of course would be quite insufficient for the support
of so vast a swarm of idlers. Many of the temples are
endowed with overflowing funds for their support, and
to others are attached the revenue of large tracts of
i 3

90

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

land. From these stores they are obliged, after pro-
viding for their own necessities, to administer assist-
ance to the sick or enfeebled among the pilgrims, who
have no means of their own. What restrictions are
placed over these rapacious harpies to secure a punc-
tual performance of the duty I know not, but certain
it is, that they are not unfrequently observed to render
such goodly services to the distressed ; though judging
from what an European may know of their character,
I should be of opinion that there exists not a more
heartless race of men, or any so utterly unsympathis-
ing in the sufferings of their fellow-creatures as these
Brahmins.

The greater part of the temples are dedicated to
Siva, or to his son Genesa, these being the deities now
especially interested in the welfare of the city, as may
be seen by the foregoing history ; but there also appear
to be not a few in honour of every other divinity in the
Hindoo pantheon. The worship of Siva is performed
amidst the grossest obscenities, which are utterly dis-
graceful to humanity, but which, being regarded as
divine, it is wonderful to state, do not move to shame
even the most modest of the female votaries. The
insignia of this deity, and the symbols of his presence
within the temple, are not to be mentioned. Accord-
ing to the doctrine of metempsychosis, to destroy is
only to regenerate in a new form, and therefore Siva,
the god of destruction, is worshipped also as the author
of life ; and in these contrasted characters, he is at

BENARES.

91

once, and in the same temple, an object of praise and
of expostulation, for the Hindoos do not scruple to
speak their displeasure with any of their deities save
Brahma. In the adoration of Genesa, the God of
Wisdom, there is no apparent want of decency ; he is
always addressed as “ that God upon whose glorious
forehead the new moon is painted with the froth of
Ganga” (the Ganges), and is generally represented sit-
ting cross-legged, with four arms and hands, and hav-
ing the head and proboscis of an elephant. His temples
are profusely ornamented with carvings and paintings
of the different limbs of this animals but most fre-
quently of the head, repetitions of which often form
the ornamental designs of the cornices and pillars. At
Mhow, in the province of Allahabad, I remember to
have seen a small temple of this god, in which all the
columns supporting the building are made to represent
the hind legs of the elephant, and the top of the roof
within is adorned with an imitation of the tusks meet-
ing round the proboscises, which depend from the
centre, partly of stone, and partly of wood.

The annexed plate represents the interior of one ot
the temples of Genesa at Benares, where all the capi-
tals of the pillars are wrought into monstrous heads
of a gigantic size, carved in red sandstone, of which
material the entire temple is constructed. All the
ornaments have been greatly defaced, and the principal
image of the god himself has evidently been the chief
object of mutilation. The odium of these dilapida-

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THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

tions rests with the bigoted followers of Mohummed,
who took possession of Benares during the reign of
Aurungzebe, and left marks of their zealous fury
upon all the sacred buildings.

The revolting crime of infanticide was at one time
carried to a great height in Benares and the adjacent
districts ; and there can be little doubt, by the account
of the Mussulmen, that it is still occasionally practised,
in defiance of the active measures for its prevention
adopted by the government. The police of course deny
this statement, but they have no access to the zenanas
and private apartments of the Rajas and petty princes,
and therefore can have no assurance of its total discon-
tinuance. It is true that numerous chiefs, among whom
the daughters were formerly destroyed immediately
after birth, have in many instances reared them, in
compliance with their agreement with the British go-
vernment ; but in nearly all these families the female
children form but a very few in comparison with the
males, which alone is sufficient ground for suspicion.
The great supporters of this iniquitous practice were
formerly the Rajhpoots, the Rajhkomars, and the
Rajhvansis, among whom a single female infant was
never permitted to exist, nor did they consider their
destruction as an act of sin or cruelty, though I am
unable to believe, as many have affirmed, that they
regarded the sacrifice as an acceptable offering to the
gods. It appears rather to have originated in conve-
nience, on account of the ruinous expense attending

BENARES,

93

their marriage, and to have been practised without fear
of offence to the deities, for their belief is, that the
souls of those daughters who were thus destroyed were
eventually returned to them in the persons of sons; and
when this did not appear to be borne out by the birth
of a male child, it only followed that Siva was dis-
pleased, and conciliation was resorted to, until a son
should really be born to them. In these cases it was
usual to seek propitiation by placing the next female
infant in the hands of the Brahmins, to be solemnly
sacrificed in the temple of Genesa, whereby that god
might be moved to compassion for the babe, and be
induced to intercede with Siva for the future birth of
male children to the parents. It is easy to perceive
whence this delusion had its commencement, since a
handsome douceur to the immolating priests was an
indispensable part of the ceremony, which in all re-
spects differed from the method of destruction privately
used. In the latter place the operation was performed
with very little form or expense, by what the Hindoos
call drinking milk. No sooner had the sex of the
infant been ascertained, than a cauldron of warm milk
was brought into the apartment where the mother lay,
and after prayers for the child’s return in the form of a
son, the little innocent was immersed in the milk, and
held down until life became extinct, and then it was
earned to the Ganges and thrown into the stream.
When, however, the deed was committed to the Brah-
mins to be executed by way of sacrifice to Genesa, the

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poor babe was earned to the temple, and, being laid
upon its back, was, after certain diabolical ceremonies,
destroyed by the club of the inhuman fakhir. This,
however, it is but fair to state, was related to me by a
Mussulman, who will never lose an opportunity of
placing the religious conduct of the Hindoos in the
most odious light possible. Among themselves, the
very word Hindoo has become a word of abuse and op-
probrium. The Mussulman is equally careful to con-
ceal that there are certain heretical tribes of his own
people who, through motives of indolence and self-
interest, have been led to follow this barbarous custom
of infanticide, which is, by the doctrines of Moham-
medan law, denounced as a foul stain upon humanity,
and prohibited under the most severe penalties both
temporal and eternal. Very many instances of Mus-
sulman families, however, are upon record, in which it
has been openly practised, and the only explanation
assigned is proudly affirmed to be, that their daughters
could not be allied to any princes in the world without
disgrace. Such are among the Jhats, the Mehwattis,
and the Scusniwals, the former chiefs of Bhurtpore.

About the time that the British government first
began to take active measures for the suppression of
this most inhuman crime, there was little difficulty in
obtaining the concurrence in its abolition of nearly all
those who practised it ; not in consequence of any con-
viction of its enormity, but for the sake of continuing-
in amity with our power. Among others, it had been

BENARES.

95

found necessary to obtain from the Jahrjas a solemn
bond of agreement to abandon this inhuman custom.
Now, in compliance with his promise, the Jahrja of
Rajh-Kotti, being apprised that his wife was about
to be confined, gave orders that if the infant should
prove to be a female it should be preserved ; and im-
patient of suspense, he collected a band of his follow-
ers, and went forth upon a hunting excursion, having
fully persuaded himself that his virtuous adherence to
his oath would be rewarded by the gift of a son, it
being past belief that he should ever be so far afflicted
as to be under the necessity of bringing up a daughter.
Having remained absent from home several days, he
returned to his wife, with some anxiety as to the result
of the birth ; and when he was informed that the child
was a daughter, and had been suffered to live, and had
been nurtured by the mother in compliance with his
commands, his fury became ungovernable, and with
blasphemous and idle curses against the whole pan-
theon of Hindooism, he gave orders for the immediate
massacre of both the mother and child. When the
virulence of his wrath was somewhat assuaged, the life
of the mother was spared at the intercession of the
Jahrja’s eldest son; but no prayers or remonstrances
could induce him to spare that of the infant, although
according to their own observances, it was extreme
cruelty and disgrace to destroy the child, if suffered to
live even a few hours after birth. In compliance with
the monster’s orders, the innocent babe was torn from

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its mother’s bosom, and strangled in her sight. The
circumstance was thus reported to the British authori-
ties, who immediately arrested the Jahrja and brought
him to trial. The retribution of the law was however
averted by the devoted wife, who gave such evidence as
tended to show that the child had died a natural death,
hut in consequence of contradictory evidence from
other witnesses, a trial by ordeal, according to ancient
Hindoo usage, was permitted, and the good fortune of
the Jahrja acquitted him.

The common reasons assigned for the destruction
of the female offspring is the fear of dishonour, and
the extravagant outlay necessarily incurred in their
marriage : there is no doubt that pride, avarice, and
indolence were the true authors and supporters of infan-
ticide ; in reality it has been shown, that it forms no
part of the Hindoo religion, although it has been
found convenient to induce such a belief, and the
artful Brahmins themselves may have favoured it.
The male offspring are never sacrificed ; although
there exists in Hindoo history — perhaps I should
rather say in Hindoo fable — a very curious account
of a race of people exactly resembling, in all their
peculiarities, the Amazons of the Greeks. They are
said to have inhabited the district of Marawa, upon
the coast immediately opposite to the island of Ceylon,
and were named S tri-Raj a, or women-princes ; they
destroyed all their male children directly after birth,
and excluded all men from their society and their

BENARES.

97

dominions, beholding only such as were brought to
them by accident or adventure, and not permitting
even these to dwell more than a few days among
them. Not only is this story preserved in several
works both Mahommedan and Hindoo, but sculptures
of the Amazon armed and deprived of the right
breast are found in various parts of India. It is
quite evident that the two stories have the same origin,
and whether we refer the legend to the Euxine
and Caspian seas upon the relation of Justin and
Diodorus, or whether we take it from the adventures
of Kama Rupa, we cannot but suppose that it must
have arisen from the fact of some class of persons
habitually destroying their male children. It may
be worthy of remark that in Marawa at this day
there is a race of people called Kalaris, robbers
by birth and education, with whom the women
are regarded as the heads of families, enjoying an
extraordinary authority over the men, and being
esteemed the lawful partner of the brother, father,
uncles, and other relations of the husband, as much
as of the husband himself.

I remember to have been particularly struck with
the contrast which is observable between the bearing
of the Brahmin and that of the other castes of Hin-
doos towards Europeans, in the great city of Benares.
The fulsome adulation and abject servility of the
latter recall a passage of Rousseau a d’Alembert;
“ Les outrager par ces evidens mensonges, n’est ce pas
K

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leur declarer assez nettement qu’on ne trouve au-
cune verite obligeante a leur dire ? ” serving at the
same time to render more obvious that supercilious
and insolent carnage of the Brahmins which only
dares to display itself in the very centre of their
strength, surrounded with thousands of their fellows
to keep them in countenance. It is seldom seen
in Calcutta or at stations where themselves are few
and the English supported; it is only when the
solitary European without state or attendants is sur-
rounded by whole troops of them that they have spirit
to display their impatient rancour, even in their looks ;
and this they have lately learned to suppress, having
been taught by a few lessons how great odds the
nervous arm and stout courage of the European
will encounter, rather than brook even a contemptuous
look. Still, if not openly insulting, their demeanour
forms a marked contrast to that of the submissive
Soodra, with whom patience, endurance, and humility
are cardinal virtues. Lest I should give an erroneous
impression to those who are not versed in the distinc-
tions of the different castes, I should mention, that
all the Brahmins are not necessarily priests, although
the priests must be Brahmins. Of the various classes
of jogis and fakhirs whose names figure away, to the
sad perplexity of the general reader, in most Indian
literature, I have thought it expedient to particularize
as little as possible, for the sake of perspicuity.

Should the reader be inclined to accuse me of dwell-

BENARES.

99

mg too greatly upon the horrible throughout this des-
cription, I beg to apologize and to offer my explanation
in the following words of the great Burke. “ There
is no spectacle we so eagerly pursue as that of some
uncommon and grievous calamity ; so that whether
the misfortune is before our eyes, or whether we are
turned back to it in history, it always touches with
delight. This is not an unmixed delight, hut blended
with no small uneasiness. The delight we have in
such things hinders us from shunning scenes of misery ;
and the pain we feel prompts us to relieve ourselves
in relieving those who suffer.”

I might have detailed to the tender-hearted reader
various cruel and wanton methods of infanticide
practised in other parts of India. For instance, it
has been ascertained that in some districts, the in-
human parents have buried their living children up
to the throat in the earth, leaving the head exposed
to the attacks of the wild beasts and birds of prey ;
others have been known to bind the poor innocents
by the feet to the branch of a tree, there abandoning
them to the most horrible of deaths ; in some places
it has been the practice to hurl them headlong from
a height into the waters of a river sacred to one or
other of their unholy gods. But these most unnatural
atrocities, it is to be hoped, have only been perpe-
trated, when the treacherous dealings of the priesthood
have so powerfully wrought upon the superstitious
fears of the natives as altogether to overwhelm the
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tide of their parental affections. A somewhat less
revolting custom, since a touch of humanity appears
still to exist in the misguided parent, is that of
setting the infant adrift upon the water in a little ark,
such as is described in the Holy Scriptures as the
refuge of the infant Moses during the infanticide
of the males commanded by Pharoah. The author
feels confident that he need make no apology to his
readers for displacing a few of his prosaic pages in
order to give room to the following stanzas, written
by a young lady. He considers them too full of
true description to require a word of comment, and
as to their poetic merit, let the reader judge.

INFANTICIDE.

How beautiful is morn,

Ere up the curving arch of yon blue sky
The golden chariot of the sun mounts high,

And panting Nature sinks o’erborne,

As captive warriors droop and die
Beneath some conqueror’s car of victory !

Lo ! from the grateful shade
By spreading tamarinds and rich mango made.
The snowy temple its light dome upreareth ;
While scattered here and there,

As though appealing to its guardian care.
The modest Hindoo hut appeareth.

Near to the sacred fane,

O’ershadowed by the banian's linked chain

INFANTICIDE.

101

Of leafy boughs unending,

Upshooting, spreading, and descending,

A lakelet, small and clear,

Reflects the emerald-tinted atmosphere.

Around the dark brown trunks gay blossoms creep ;
From twig to twig the lively squirrels leap ;

Birds of gay plumage and sweet song
The laden branches throng ;

And stately peacocks through the long grass move :
Already to their light and graceful toils,

The women gather ’neath the fragrant grove,

Spinning the white line from the fleecy spoils
Of yon rich fields which, far away.

Lie basking in the opening day.

All golden as the beams which o’er them play.

Apart from all — the silver lake beside.

Which mirroreth her charms with eager pride,

What form appears, as motionless and fair,

As marble image wrought by chisel rare;

Graceful as the areca , with long hair
Entwined by gems and flowers, and loosely flung

Back from the white and polished brow, which bears
Impress of sorrow, keen and gathering cares,
Unmeet for one so lovely and so young.

Her silken robe of ample fold.

Scarce shows the fairy foot and ancle slender,
Circled by glittering stones and ring of gold ;

For earth and sea their spoils surrender,

To deck the wife of Menon bold,

The wealthy and well-born.

Across her bosom, closely drawn,

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Descends her veil in shining folds,

And something to her heart she holds,

Which often with convulsive clasp,

She presses close, and closer still :

Her right hand’s rose-tipped fingers grasp
A basket, framed with care and skill,

Of sacred tulsi wood, replete
With tuberose , and mogri sweet.

The champa shedding forth perfume,

The rich malidavi' s crimson bloom,

And amra heading Camdeo’s dart.

To deal a wound that leaves no smart.

As to the breezes cool

The pensile sprays and verdurous foliage shiver,

Their painted brethren as in mockery quiver.

Beneath the glassy surface of the pool :

And there, its glossy leaves around it closing,

The silver lotos floats reposing.

“ Even thus, even thus,” — passed through poor Zeida’s
breast —

“ I might have cradled thee to rest,

Calm as the lily on that pearly water 3
As safe from storms, as beautiful, as blest 3
Woe, woe is me! my daughter ! O ! my daughter!”

******

Vainly she lingers there,

Love wrestling with despair.

Ere through the scorching noon-tide air
The tyrant sun shall proudly ride
Her sacrifice must be complete 3
And she, returning with reluctant feet
Again may sit by Menon’s side,

INFANTICIDE.

103

And find her consolation, if she can,

In the caress bestowed by flattered pride,
Which oft is deemed and christened love in man.
For beautiful is Zeida, and her lord
Knows well to prize and guard so fair a gem —
A richer never shone in Delhi’s hoard —

But can he love her, and condemn
That young heart to such agony.

As now each pulse is torturing?

Ol could he but that infant see
From its brief slumber just awaking.

Still pillowed on that bosom aching,

Stretching its tiny hands that cling
To the soft neck, as in appeal
For love, for pity, for protection,

Even his proud soul remorse must feel ;

He could not crush that young affection,

Nor to the monsters of the flood
His helpless first-born child resign,

Though one of his pure flowing blood
Seeks none but sons to grace his line.

****##
The river rusheth full and strong,

A mighty and majestic stream; —

Yon Chupra it hath swept along,

Stifling the dying scream
Of the wretch that in his lone despair
Waited death’s rude summons there.

Where the tall reeds thickly grow,

Nodding slowly to and fro.

Plunges the lordly buffalo ;

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And near him in close ambuscade
The subtle crocodile is laid;

Like a trunk, bare, leafless, brown,

By the tempest shock o’erthrown.

Moveless on the bank he lies
With glittering and watchful eyes.

Demon of cruelty and fear,

Alas ! thy prey is near.

* * * * *

Zeida hath laid her basket down.

Her offering to the sacred river ;

No tears even yet her eye doth own,

But every feeble limb doth quiver;

And sobs, each like a dying gasp.

Burst from that agonized breast.

To which, with strong and straining clasp.
The hapless babe is pressed.

A smile across its features plays
Unconsciously — and now another.
Answering the miserable gaze
Of that most wretched mother.

* * * * *

A thrill of anguish shook her frame.

Then, a brief frenzy on her came.

The thin veil from her head she tore,

And the poor infant round and round
In the soft gauzy folds she wound.

That soon its struggles might be o’er.

And with quick steps, though each one sank
In the green oozy river bank,

INFANTICIDE.

105

Down among the reeds she cower’d.

There gently laid the fated child,

And o’er it, from her basket, piled
Green leaves and blossoms shower’d.

Then, pressing both hands to her head.

As if in agony of fear
Its dying shriek to hear,

Nerved by despair, with frenzied speed she fled.

106

E T T A I A H.

Modern authors, both the travelled and the merely
speculative, who have written to illustrate the Oriental
world, have shown us that, marked as is the dissimili-
tude between the nations of Europe and of Asia in
their habits of life, their customs, their religions,
forms, complexion, and costume, they are still more
strikingly contrasted in their mental peculiarities and
distinct habits of thought. It is indeed wonderful to
note the unequal estimation with which the minds of
millions collectively, in one and the other quarters of
the globe, will mutually regard the same object : and
perhaps under no circumstances is this more obviously
displayed than in the importance which each respec-
tively attaches to events of the past and of the future.
To the European in youth, or in the prime of life,
there is no pleasure in retrospection, however sweet,
that can equal those bright and glorious heart-stirring
visions of the future which are the offspring of a san-

ETTAIAH.

107

guine and ambitious temperament ; while, to the less
ardent people of the tropics, there exists not in the
prospective any measure of delight so full as the calm
enjoyment of dreamy recollection ; the most glowing
promise will often fail to excite, when a glipipse of life
by-gone will immediately engross all the faculties. In
Europe every active mind is bent upon improvement,
the energies are devoted to the aggrandisement of the
present, or are absorbed in schemes to foretell and
meet the exigencies of the future ; few indeed devote
their time to constant reflection on the past; and
when by chance they are called upon to rehearse the
events of former days, their best efforts only prove
how necessary practice is to excellence. The con-
templative Asiatic will at a moment’s notice assem-
ble and renew the faded images of times long
past away, and, without effort, paint his picture
in such life-like form and colour as to present his
audience with a complete reflection of the scene
itself. His powers, too, are quickened by being con-
stantly in request, for all Oriental families are ad-
dicted to narration, and seldom close the day without
one or other reciting some passage from the records of
their own lives or the traditions of their forefathers.
For the gentle reader’s sake I heartily wish I possessed
the power of penning my descriptions, or of reciting
my legends, with one half the graphic spirit and effect
which would be infused into them by these eloquent
though unlettered people. With a hope of preserving

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as much as possible of the freshness and vigour of the
original, I lost no opportunity while I was in India
of making memoranda of all the tales, and histori-
cal or other information which I gathered from the
natives, as nearly as possible in their words. For my
own amusement, indeed, I used frequently to note
down whole dialogues which I had enjoyed with these
story-telling people, and they now serve to carry my
memory back to the scene with a truth and nicety
which I am confident I could not otherwise have re-
tained. Wherever I am able to do so, I prefer giving
the reader the benefit of these living pictures, in prefer-
ence to dull recital of my own, and in illustration of the
present subject I think I shall need no apology for leav-
ing my narration almost entirely in the mouth of my
informant. It will however be first necessary for me
to clear the stage, to set up my scene, to declare the
time and place, and to explain the entrees and exits ;
this shall be done in as few words as may be.

During a long and tedious voyage down the river
Jumna, at a season when the navigation of that river is
always difficult and somewhat hazardous, I found my
patience rapidly giving way under the influence of a
contrary breeze, and shoal waters traversed in all di-
rections with sunken rocks. The scenery around me
was wild in the extreme. On either side of its nar-
row bed the pent up stream was shut in with rough
percipitous cLflfs, in many places overhanging with
perilous menace my nutshell of a skiff. These tower-

ETTAIAH.

109

ing banks are partially clothed with ragged jungle
and dwarf-trees of a most mis-shapen growth ; in
places they are intersected with deep and dark ravines,
which are the impenetrable hiding-places of thugs,
dukhaits, and other classes of banditti; and also of
tigers, leopards, hyaenas, wolves, and a host of mans
natural enemies. The day had been sullen and over-
cast, and my humour accorded with the scene. I had
lounged all day upon the roof of my boat, in idle mood,
now gazing on the accumulating clouds, now striving
to find excitement in the exploits recorded in the pages
of a veteran and not-a-little-mutilated sixpenny pam-
phlet, entitled “ The Bandit’s Bride but from want
of taste or from heartless misanthropy I found myself
heartily well disposed to strangle the fair lady for her
treachery, and to hang all the outlaws for their crimes.

“ Manji,” said I, somewhat impatiently, to the boat’s
captain ; “ Mangi, lower that abominable top-sail ;
you have overmasted your miserable boat, and when the
squall breaks we shall be capsized.” “ Pardon your
slave, most noble Sir,” replied the man, with a pro-
found reverence, “ there will be no storm this evening,
and I am desirous of showing your greatness the far-
famed town of Ettaiah before night falls. There will
be no wind.”

“ Lower the topsail, Sirrah ! ” Down came the
canvass upon deck. I turned my eye to windward ;
the horizon had become beautifully bright, and a fresh
breeze was fast hurrying away the heavy clouds. In

L

110

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

a few seconds, as if by a magic spell, tlie whole aspect
of nature was transformed. A brilliant flood of sun-
shine was spread across the scene ; the cliffs rose still
higher and more majestically over our heads ; the deep
leaden waters were converted into a rippled flood of
gold ; and as our canvass filled to the favouring breeze,
my spirits regained their wonted elasticity.

“ Make all sail, you Manji ; and here, tell me, what
are the glittering buildings which so thickly crown
yonder cliffs P ”

“ That place. Sir, is the famed city of Ettaiah, for-
merly the capital of this district. It is of very great
antiquity, and strange tales are told of its ancient inha-
bitants. Your honour will find it worthy of a days
tarry.”

I instantly ordered out my little wherry, and taking
four oars on board, I had rounded the last reach just as
the sun touched the horizon. The scene was grand
indeed. Buildings of all dates and ages — the ancient
and the modern, the ruined and the still unfinished,
were heaped together in strange confusion, and were
spread over about twenty hills to the height of eighty
or a hundred feet above the water-mark.

I landed upon one of the principal ghats , and throw-
ing my gun over my shoulder, I strolled from ruin to
ruin, and from street to street, until at last, upon a
flight of newly-built steps leading to the water, I des-
cried an aged Brahmin performing his evening worship
with his face turned towards the still glowing west.

ETTAIAH.

Ill

“ Peace, my Son,” said I to the old man, who was
grey enough for my grandfather, “ you appear to be en-
joying the freshness of the evening breeze. These are
handsome ghats ; your town appears to he rising anew
from its dusty ruins. Are there any relics within par-
ticularly worthy of the inspection of a foreigner ? ”

“ Protector of the poor, you may well say that the
air is cool ; hut how can I be enjoying it P You are
from the west, and love these chilly winds ; you are
young, and the piercing air only braces your frame.
Alas ! behold me ; youth and activity have flown, and
I have nothing wherewith to preserve vital warmth in
my frame but this tattered blanket, which is a poor
substitute for vigour and warm blood : but it has
pleased God to inspire me with infinite fortitude ; or
perhaps I may say that I have myself acquired it,
during a long life of hardship and exposure.”

Why, my friend, you must indeed be a chilly
mortal ; the air is yet glowing with the noon’s heat.”

“ Great Sir, you were pleased to enquire of your
slave if there be any thing worth seeing in our city.
Why do you apply to me about such toys as these ?
Such trifles I regard not ; I am an aged man, and now
mine eyes are incessantly turned towards Heaven. If
there has ever been any thing in our land worth covet-
ing, you English gentlemen have stripped us of it ;
you have sacked our coffers, and have glutted your-
selves with our treasure.”

“ Come, come, my Son, you judge us harshly : we
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112

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

have conquered your land but to relieve it from the
oppression of tyrants; and have taken charge of your
wealth only to disburse it for your advantage; and
those who evince a grateful sense of our goodness, by
endeavouring to serve us to the best of their power,
invariably receive some reward at our hands. — Pray
what is this singular ruin which surmounts the hill
above us ? ”

“ That ! ’tis Khoob-soorut’s palace : all persons know
the story.”

“ No, I am altogether ignorant of the history of your
town ; but my surdar has orders to supply with three
days’ subsidy any man who adds a good story to my
collection.”

“ Chosen of Heaven, will it please you to bestow a
few minutes’ patience while I relate to you the legend
of the ruined palace which attracts your attention :
there must be few indeed who can tell the tale with
better effect than myself ; though I do not say this with
any wish to persuade you that my story will be worth
four days’ supply, where others have received three.
Be pleased, Sir, to recline upon that white cloth while
I rehearse my favourite

“ STORY OF BUHDUNAUT AND KHOOB-SOORUT,

which all who listen to declare to be very excellent.
Every soul in this town knows it by heart, but there is
not one who can recite it like myself ; and those who

ETTAIAH.

113

have heard my version fifty times over only become the
more desirous of hearing it again.

“ In days long past what city was so great and glo-
rious as Ettaiah, — her inhabitants, lofty in stature and
beautiful in form, stood among their fellow men as the
sun in his strength compared with the twinkling stars
of heaven. But evil is strong upon earth, and the
terrible goddess Kali, working with powerful and ma-
licious influence in the hearts of men, had gradually
reduced the proud city to degradation and misery.
Truth, justice, industry, domestic peace, and public
virtue passed away, like the vernal glories of plain and
forest after the clouds of the blue locust have rested
upon them. Arts and manufactures were disregarded;
sloth and intemperance had paralysed every hand,
while poverty and famine roved throughout the city as
fierce as paria dogs howling for their prey. The con-
trol of law had long ceased in Ettaiah ; provisions,
money, almost all the necessaries of life, were obtained
by plunder alone, and as long as any stores remained,
they were at the disposal of every strong arm and fero-
cious spirit who could demand his portion from the
general stock, or wrench it from the grasp of a weaker
neighbour. When all was gone, the lawless robbers
set forth to levy new contributions, lying in wait for
luckless travellers in the gloomy ravines that intersect
the lofty banks of the Jumna, greedy and watchful as
the crocodile lurking in the reedy shallows below them ;
or rushing on some unprotected village, they robbed
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the husbandman of his newly-garnered harvest, the
cottage of its frugal stores, and carrying off every
portable article of value, left wailing and despair, per-
chance blood and death, behind.

“ The triumph of Kali was now obtained— -all the
inhabitants of the fallen city had declared themselves
her worshippers; evil reigned supreme in Ettaiah,
and the very name of the city was held thrice
accursed — the knife had reached the very bone.

“Now, the god Krishna, the pure spirit of benevo-
lence, cast his eyes of compassion upon the desolation
and misery of this once magnificent city, and resolved
by the exercise of his beneficent influence to raise up
the fallen from her shame, and set the crown of
rejoicing once more upon her head. But in vain he
struggled against the wicked passions of men, in-
flamed by long indulgence and in close alliance with
the spirits of evil, until at last he was forced to em-
ploy stratagem to effect his good purpose in the
reformation of Ettaiah. And first he sent a wasting
and terrible pestilence among the people, as a chas-
tisement for their sins, and that any yet lingering
principle of good might be awakened in their hearts,
even as we crush the khusha grass to draw forth its
richest perfume. Lamentation and weeping, terror
and despair, now filled the streets of the accursed
city ; mothers saw their infants expire in their arms,
and children yet more wretched, houseless and unpro-
tected, shrunk from the livid corpses of their stricken

ETTAIAH.

115

parents. The warrior in the pride of his iron-knit
frame, the young man, strong-limbed and reckless
of danger, fell by the venomed arrow that smiteth at
noon-day ; nor safer were the old men cowering in
their desolate homes, nor the damsel on her silken
couch, for the destroyer passed by with the sword
of vengeance, mowing down strength and weakness,
beauty and decrepitude. Woe, woe, to Ettaiah and
her sinful inhabitants !

“ The only person in the city to whose authority the
lawless populace in some degree submitted, was the
young chief, Buddunaut, chosen by his fellow citizens
to preside over their councils, for his undoubtable
courage, great personal beauty, and superior wisdom.
Into the heart of this young ruler, Krishna instilled
a deep and thrilling conviction of the cause of the
fearful calamity now visiting his capital, and soon the
thoughts of the crimes and sufferings of his people
haunted his couch with all hideous sounds and shapes
throughout the night, and by day seemed to rise
above and around him like a sulphurous cloud, shut-
ting out the blessed light of heaven, and ready to
burst in thunders upon his head.

“ The agony of his mind grew beyond endurance,
and freshly endued with wise and virtuous resolu-
tion by the beneficent Krishna, Buddunaut assembled
the people, reproached them with their accumulated
crimes, and declared the cause of the pestilence now
raging amongst them. By persuasions, exhortations.

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and the aid of Krishna, he won over to his side the
most powerful and influential of the citizens, and
then proceeded to enact salutary and severe laws for
the restraint and punishment of vice. His efforts
were successful. Good slowly, but surely, drove evil
from her stronghold, the pestilence abated, peace and
order once more reigned in the city, — penitents
thronged the long deserted temples, and Ettaiah was
well nigh reclaimed. But the malicious Kali, the
unrelenting enemy of man, yielded not so easily her
prey; and hopeless of the effects of open force, she
resolved to foil the benevolent purpose of Krishna,
by a counter stratagem. To tempt is far easier than
to compel, and the subtle goddess exerted all her art
in framing a woman of such surpassing beauty, that
all which poets have sung, or lovers dreamed, should
seem faded and dull in comparison with her matchless
charms, that the eyes of those who gazed upon her
should be henceforth insensible to all other loveliness
earth could display, and men become as clay in her
hands.

“ On this enchantress, having first instilled a due
portion of her own vindictive spirit, and fully in-
structed her in her mission of evil. Kali bestowed
the power of invoking effective curses on all who pro-
voked her wrath, or thwarted the will of her terrible
patroness.

“ Turn now, Bahado or Sahib, and behold those ruins
on the lofty hills behind us — they are those of a mag-

ETTAIAH.

117

nificent palace, which, even in the days we speak of
had fallen to decay, and the name of its first founder
oblivion had blotted from the hook of the past. Die
ring the late awful pestilence it had been used as a la-
zaretto, and was studiously shunned by all the citizens
of Ettaiah, as a sad memorial of the sufferings they
had endured. The damp mists of death seemed to cling
around its mouldering walls, the wailings of despair to
fill the breezes that swept through its lonely courts,
and the wayfarer, homeward bound, turned his eyes
from the broken outlines of walls and towers cut-
ting the sapphire sky, and praised the god Krishna
that it was not with Ettaiah as in her evil days.

" But lo ! in the solemn stillness of night, when all
within the city were locked in repose, the wicked
Kali descended in the form of an enormous vampire,
and deposited Khoob-soorut (the beautiful) in one
of the vast chambers of the palace. — Then by her
magic art she recalled into existence all the ancient
splendours of the abode, and surrounded the syren,
destined to effect the destruction of Ettaiah, with
every species of luxury and magnificence that might
aid her own unrivalled beauty in fascinating the
minds of men, and seducing them again to the
worship of evil.

“ The sun arose, and his crimsoned beams illumined
the snow white domes and glittering cupolas of the
restored palace; and, from the gates of Ettaiah, poured
forth an eager crowd to gaze and wonder. Nearer

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THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

and nearer they pressed, even to the lofty brazen
gates, through whose richly wrought lattice -work
glimpses were gained of gardens rivaling the famed
paradise of Ahmedabad, of silver fountains, amid beds
of roses, of stately trees starred with gorgeous blos-
soms, through which the soft winds careered joy-
fully, filling the atmosphere with perfume ; while
ever and anon clouds of birds, glittering like winged
gems rose into the air, and strains of divine music
came faintly and at intervals on the ear.

" All gazed and marvelled, and ardently desired to
explore the secrets of the mysterious abode, and revel
in its garden of delights, hut no small degree of
courage was required to essay this hold though tempt-
ing adventure. The citizens, young and old,
gathered in knots, and held sage and long discussions
on the matter ; hut a superstitious awe possessed all
their hearts, and throughout seven days only curious
glances and anxious wishes were directed towards
the palace of Khoob-soorut.

" At length a youth named Bhudroo, of noble birth
and gallant spirit, hoping to win both wealth and
fame if he accomplished the adventure, stole from
his home at the first peep of dawn and ascended the
hill crowned by the palace. The brazen gates un-
folded at his approach, and stepping over the threshold
he seemed at once to breathe a new and delicious
atmosphere, the very air was perfumed, and the
flowers shed rays of light from their rainbow-tinted

ETTAIAH.

119

petals. Led by an irresistible impulse, dazzled
and bewildered, the young adventurer crossed the
marble courts, and entered a vast circular hall in the
palace. Twelve pillars of crystal supported the lofty
roof, wrought in purple and silver to mimic the glories
of the summer night, the floor was inlaid with chry-
solyte ; and the curving walls sparkled with innume-
rable gems : but far outshining all, at the farther end
of the hall sat Khoob-soorut on a throne of ivory,
in aspect gentle and innocent as a pearl newly drawn
from the green waters of Oman.

“■ Nor her loveliness alone, but the witchery of her
smile and the honey-sweet accents of her voice, sank
deep into the heart of the young Bhudroo, who, bewil -
dered with joy, overwhelmed with astonishment and
admiration, lay, as if entranced, at the feet of the
enchantress.

“ Her choicest spells were exercised to ensnare and
secure her prey, and body and soul were nearly won,
when to the offer of her hand in marriage and all
the untold wealth contained within her palace, she
annexed the startling condition, that he should aid
her in bringing back the city of Ettaiah to the
worship of Kali. The heart of the enamoured youth
sank within him. Darkly, — yet too sensibly, came
back upon his soul, the days of anarchy, the woes
of famine and pestilence, endured by his fellow-
citizens, while under the wrath of Krishna. How dare
he risk the renewal of these horrors ! Firmly, though

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slowly, he assured the dangerous syren, whose
eyes of beauty now rested upon him with a stem
and terrible glance, that in this dread task alone
he hesitated to obey her ; in all others, were death
itself the penalty incurred, he was her devoted and
ready slave. Scarcely had the words left his lips
when Klioob-soomt, rising from her throne, uttered
two words of tremendous malison , and pointing
towards him her white and taper finger, that form
of beauty and grace vanished for ever and ever from
the gaze of the hapless Bhudroo ; for his eyes had
withered in their sockets. Then warning him that
instant death would be his doom if ever he revealed
the cause or manner of his misfortune, she hade him
begone from her palace.

“ The agonized youth strove to escape from the
fatal abode, but darkling and bewildered he wandered
for hours amid the enchanted halls and tangled laby-
rinths of that delusive paradise, the fierce arrows of
the sun bursting upon his head, and the hiss of
venomed reptiles making his blood run cold as he
stumbled along, knowing not what hidden danger
lurked in his path. The song of birds, the scent of
flowers, were no longer manifest to his senses; but
the fiendish laugh of the cruel Khoob-soorut rang
unceasingly in his ears. It was night-fall ere, ex-
hausted, blind, and despairing, he reached his home.

“ The unfortunate Bhudroo languished in obscurity,
none knowing the cause of his affliction, while the

ETTAIAH.

121

wicked Kali, exciting a fierce thirst for wealth
in the bosoms of the young men of Ettaiah,
by awakening their avarice vanquished their scruples
and their fears, and day by day provided new
victims for Khoob-soorut. Some of these rash ad-
venturers, who had penetrated into the fatal palace
in the hopes of attaining unbounded wealth, returned
with their sight or speech destroyed; the teeth of
some became brass, the limbs of others marble, the
rest were gibbering idiots, or frantic madmen ; — yet
none dared to reveal the true cause of his misfortune ;
and terror and doubt anew possessed the city of
Ettaiah. At length the virtuous Buddunaut unable
to restrain the fatal curiosity of his people, and filled
with pity for the strange and awful bereavements
thereby incurred, assembled the whole train of
maimed and blighted sufferers before the great Temple
of Krishna, and endeavoured to elicit a confession
which should discover the cause of that god’s dis-
pleasure.

** His exhortations and menaces were answered by
tears and lamentations, but none dare breathe the
name, nor detail the fiendish malice of Khoob-soorut.
Then Buddunaut retired within the temple, and
there, assisted by the principal Brahmins, he per-
formed solemn rites in honour of the god, and
adjured him to reveal the cause of his wrath, and
why the furnace of affliction was anew kindled to
devour his wretched people.

M

122

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

“ While thus employed the blind Bhudroo, first
victim of Khoob-soorut, stepped forth from the multi-
tude and cried aloud —

“ ‘ Hear me, 0 ! most noble Buddunaut — in early
childhood we were friends, and like to brothers, and
for love of thee, and to restore peace to thy city,
I will reveal the cause of my present affliction,
though death itself be the penalty. In yonder
palace dwells a false enchantress, sent by the terrible
goddess Kali to win back your people to her worship,
or to exterminate the whole race amid tortures such
as we have suffered.

“ ‘ The vain love of praise, and the accursed desire
of wealth, first lured me within yon fatal walls.
The sorceress is more beautiful than day ; who can
stand before her P —

“‘But beware, O ! beware, ye who are yet unscathed
take warning, my fellow citizens, danger and death
lurk like serpents amid her seeming paradise, her
smile is ruin, and her loveliness a lure into the paths
of destruction — 0 ! fly, then, the haunts of the de-
deceiver.’— He stretched forth his arms imploringly
to his companions, a livid hue overspread his face,
and sinking at the feet of Buddunaut, he expired in
horrible convulsions.

“ Great was the dismay of the spectators — they
threw themselves upon the ground, tore their gar-
ments, and cast dust upon their heads, cursing the
evil fate that had come upon themselves and their

i

ETTAIAH.

123

children, for verily it appeared that the contest
between the powers of evil and good would end only
in the destruction of Ettaiah, and of all its wretched
inhabitants. Nor was the piteous tumult appeased,
until the youthful chief Buddunaut with all the
grace and dignity of superior virtue, thus addressed
his subjects : —

“ ‘ Take courage,’ he said, * my unhappy people —
return in peace to your homes, the sun shall not
again rise and set ere this enchantment be dissolved,
even though your safety be only purchased by my life.’

“ Relying upon this noble promise, the affrighted
citizens slowly withdrew to their houses, praising the
self-devotion of their chief, and invoking for him
the aid and protection of Krishna ; while the chief
Brahmins and astrologers busied themselves within
the temples to ascertain the auspicious moment when
Buddunaut should commence the adventure.

“ The prosperous conjunction of the heavenly signs
denoted the pure and solemn hour before dawn, and
Buddunaut full of zeal and courage, robed in regal
attire, and attended by a numerous train of priests
and nobles, climbed the rugged hill, and then bidding
adieu to his followers crossed the fatal threshold alone.

“ The people of Ettaiah assembling in crowds, stood
upon the sides of the hill and along the banks of the
river, their eyes fixed upon the lofty walls and shining
towers within whose precincts their beloved chief had
ventured. The hours sped on— no food had entered
m 2

124

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

their lips, no shelter had they from the blazing sun ;
the Brahmins offered sacrifices, and pious devotees
muttered unceasing prayers, but still Buddunaut came
not. Towards noon a burst of triumphant music
came swelling forth upon the air from the interior
of the palace, and songs of rejoicing and loud shouts
of frantic merriment startled the ears of the anxious
citizens. These continued at frequent intervals ; but
they heralded not the return of the adventurous chief,
and towards sunset some of the boldest among the
people consulted together if they should not force an
entrance into the mysterious palace, and discover
whether the mad strains of revelry proceeding from
thence celebrated the triumph of their prince, or that
of the terrible Kali. A chosen body of brave young-
men stood forward to prosecute this adventure, when
lo ! on the marble terrace which roofed the palace
Buddunaut at length appeared.

“ Alas for the pride of man ! A murmur of horror
and dismay ran through the multitude ; for behold the
generous and heroic chief, a few hours before the model
of manly grace and beauty, stood before them a blighted
and distorted being, a monster of humanity, unrecog-
nizable save by his jewelled crown, his royal robes, and
the broad scar upon his brow, token of his days of
glory and his prowess in battle. With hollow and
discordant voice he addressed the assembly; —

“ * My devoted subjects — fellow worshippers of the
divine Kali, behold your chief, whose eyes are now

ETTAIAH.

125

opened to see the fault he has committed in so long
refusing his allegiance to that great and powerful god-
dess. Come, prostrate yourselves at her shrine ; offer
to her your dutiful vows, and then return to your homes
and revel in all luxury and delight. Away with the
wild shackles of law, let each man do that which is
right in his own eyes : the world is wide enough for
all, and the pleasures it contains are many and varied
as the pebbles on the sea shore. Let us then eat, drink,
and he merry : your monarch shall set you the exam-
ple— Lo ! I have chosen my queen, my bride, more
lovely than the full-orbed moon ; and for myself — if
your fond love praised my strength and stature before,
behold how glorious am I now ! ’ — and the degraded
chief in his frantic delusion raised up to its full height
his withered and mis-shapen form, as if to challenge
the admiration of the awe-stricken multitude, who hid
their eyes from a sight so dreadful. Even at this mo-
ment, a little snake, glittering in scarlet and gold, and
scarce thicker than a man’s finger, wound itself up from
a small crevice in the tesselated floor, and suddenly ex-
panding to an enormous size, enfolded the hapless
Buddunaut in its terrible coils, and instantly crushed
him to death.

“ The fierce reptile then flung forward its gigantic
body, levelled the brazen gates, and darting like a
scorching meteor through the magic groves entered the
palace.

“ While the citizens of Ettaiah stood paralyzed with
m 3

126

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

terror a dense and lurid cloud overspread the sky —
thunders bellowed around — -the mountain shook to its
base — and a piercing cry from the shattered palace
of Khoob-soorut seemed to rend the heavens.

“The enchantment was dispelled — ’Krishna in the
form of a serpent had triumphed at last over his
enemy Kali; — the sorceress Koob-soorut was destroyed,
and yonder you behold the palace, wherein her magic
snares were spread, again reduced to a heap of ruins,
and mouldering beneath the heavy hand of time.”

127

AGRA.

THE FORT. — — THE MOTI MUSJID.

It is often very difficult, nay impossible, to discover,
by the unmoved countenance and manner of the Mus-
sulman, how far he is sincere or ironical in his allu-
sions to the British power and the altered state of
government, in those rich territories which were
lately the crown lands of the Mogul Emperors.
When I was exploring the ruins of Agra, about
three years since, a very handsome young Mussul-
man— who had proved himself equally intelligent
and well informed, hy resolving a number of ques-
tions which I put to him about the different build-
ings, and their former occupants — somewhat per-
plexed me by the following reply to my remarks
upon the changes which had taken place in the
renowned capitals of Delhi and Agra. There was
no movement of the eye or mouth, no intonation of
voice, which could be supposed to interpret the man’s
equivocal speech.

128

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

“ Let those who are sheltered in mercy,” said he,
alluding to the deceased kings of the Mogul dynasty,
who by Mussulmans are never spoken of as being dead
in other terms than these ; “ Let those who are shel-
tered in mercy, whose seat is in Paradise, behold how
the mighty men of all India, the descendants of a thou-
sand emperors, have exchanged turbans * with your
victorious and peace - dispensing countrymen ; the
proud chiefs, the children of the true prophet, the
chosen of heaven, the invincible, delighting in bene-
volence and good faith, have made themselves joyful
in an act of brotherly affection, by sharing with the
English the glories and riches of their thrones. Other-
wise, they had been content to resign their power
altogether into the hands of this noble race of stran-
gers, whom Alla was pleased to select as instruments
to save the whole country from destruction. Is it not
true , Sir, that the chiefs of royalty have had pleasure
in descending from their kingly state, to grind rice
for princely inf dels P ” f Throughout this sentence,

•as I received it, the light and shade of profound
respect and insolence, of submission and reproach,
played to and fro in so shifting and chequered a man-
ner, that I was quite unable to define the man’s real
meaning ; nor could I ascertain it by farther ques-
tions.

* The most sacred and inviolable token of friendship and peace
among all oriental nations.

t “To grind rice for infidels,” is an expression betokening the
utmost degradation to which a Mussulman can be brought.

FORT OF AGRA,

129

While we were gazing upon the beautiful ruins of
the white marble pavilion in the palace, he quoted
the following lines from the poet Sadi : —

(( The spider hath woven his web in the royal palace of the
Csesars ;

The owl standeth centinel on the watch towers of Afrasiab.”

The fort of Agra is a most imposing object, upon
whichever side it is viewed. The lofty towers and
high embattled walls rise one above another, to a tre-
mendous height, giving it the appearance of a gigantic
castle, reared from a foundation upon the plain ; while
in truth, it consists of a succession of fortifications,
built in, or upon, the rocky front of a high precipice,
walls are, in some places, surmounted with hand-
some domes of marble, or of gilt copper, and upon the
front facing the Jumna, the elegant white marble
pavilions of the palace overlook the works. The walls
of the body of the place are still kept in excellent
repair by the Government, while the outer ditch and
out-works have been suffered to go to decay. But I
must not occupy my narrow space with wide descrip-
tions or with historical detail; daily writers are saving
me the necessity. Who does not now know, what
nobody knew fifty years since, that Agra was raised
from a village to a most magnificent city by the
Emperor Akbar, and by him called Akbar-abad.
Who does not know that the fort was considered
impregnable until taken by Lord Lake, in 1803;
that it floated in blood during the reign of Aurung-

130

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

zebe, and during each successive reign, until it came
into the possession of the English ; that its domes of
pure gold have been induced to make the voyage to
England; that the marble palaces and tesselated halls
have been converted into store -rooms ? Who does
not know that both Delhi and Agra, the first and
second capitals of the most powerful and glorious
empire of the East, are now little better than a heap
of ruins, without trade — without a show of royalty ?
But to those who have looked upon these magnificent
relics of oriental grandeur there is no treat so great
as talking or writing of them : it is with great self-
denial that I refrain from telling my tale throughout,
and turning over again my whole budget of inform-
ation upon the subject; especially when I alight upon
some favorite object of admiration. Thus, kind reader,
if. I should ever weary you by my prosaic descrip-
tions, I trust I may claim some sympathy in my
overfond dilation of the scene. The poet Sadi
makes the lover apologize for his wearisome rhap-
sodies, in the following beautiful strain. “ My com-
panion oft reproaches me for my love, will he never
hehold her charms, that my excuse may he accepted ?
Would to heaven that they who hlame me for my
passion could see thy face, oh, thou ravisher of
hearts! that at the sight of thee, they might be con-
founded, and inadvertently cut their heads instead of
the fruit which they hold, thou hast no compassion
for my disorder: my companion should be afflicted

FORT OF AGRA.

131

with the same malady, that I might sit all day,
repeating my tale to him; for two pieces of wood
burn together with a brighter flame : while thy mind
is not affected like mine, the relation of my story
seems to be only an idle tale.” In bespeaking the
interest of the reader, I do not exactly wish with
Sadi, that he may become so absorbed in my effu-
sion as inadvertently to do himself an injury , but I
am certainly desirous he should be so far sensible of
the beauty and grandeur of the scenes described as
will enable him to enter with full relish into the
stories or legends attached to them.

lu Lucian, the immortal Homer is made to avow
that he commenced his book with the word Mwiv,
simply because it was the most convenient word which
presented itself to him ; and he is represented as
laughing to scorn the penetration of the critic, who
professed to have discovered in that single word an
epitome of the whole poem. I certainly am under
no apprehension lest any critic, however profound,
should pretend to read the events of the conclusion in
the pages which open my description of Agra ; but
while I plead guilty of having seized and committed
to paper whatever offered itself with the best promise
of accommodation, I trust that these random words
will be found not altogether irrelevant.

The Moti Musjid, or Pearl Mosque, is the most
beautiful and attractive building within the fort of
Agra, While the British Government have not he-

132

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.’

sitated to appropriate the costly halls of the regal
palace for ammunition stores and magazines; they
have displayed sufficient good taste and regard for
the religious feelings of the Mussulmans to preserve
sacred and untouched this most elegant place of wor-
ship. It receives its name from the material of
which it is constructed, being entirely of white mar-
ble, highly polished, and which, under the dazzling
rays of a torrid sun, has in truth all the appearance
of pearl. It stands nearly in the centre of the citadel,
and forms a most enticing object of admiration amid
the tottering and prostrate ruins of noble architecture
all round it ; but the exterior view of it gives but a
faint foretaste of the exceeding symmetry and ex-
quisite finish of the work within. It has all the air
of fairy architecture, and carries imagination back to
those shadowy images which in childhood we had en-
deavoured to embody from the glowing pages of the
Arabian Nights.

No sooner has the beholder passed the arched
doors and entered upon the terraced quadrangle,
than he finds himself shut in on all sides with
walls of the purest white marble, delicately carved,
and built in chaste and symmetrical proportion.
The eye has nothing hut this radiant material to rest
upon except the blue vault of heaven above, and its
reflection in the basin of holy water in the centre of
the court. A beautiful arcade runs round three sides
of this area, and on the fourth side is the Musjid
itself — the holy house of prayer. The design of this

FORT OF AGRA.

133

is exceedingly elegant ; many artists and other able
critics have declared it one of the most perfect spe-
cimens of symmetry extant in oriental architecture.
The front consists of seven beautiful arches overhung
with a broad canopy ; the centre is crowned with a
large and nobly proportioned dome, with one on
either side considerably smaller, and on the extremi-
ties of the fa9ade are two small pavilions. A few
shallow steps lead up to the interior, which is sup-
ported by pillars of the same fashion as those with-
out, and vaulted with intersecting arches of a cor-
responding form ; facing the centre arch is the tahk,
or sacred niche, in which a copy of the Koran is
always deposited while service is being performed;
and on either side under the second arch is a small
pulpit, also of white marble. An air of solemn gran-
deur reigns throughout the whole building ; hut that
which particularly delights the eye and the heart is
the supernatural purity and spotless lustre of the
entire structure.

After a surfeit of admiration, the question naturally
occurs, by whose refined taste and critical skill was
this exquisite gem designed ? The architect was the
princely but unfortunate Emperor Shah Jehan, whose
mild and generous disposition offered a temptation to
his crafty and ambitious son, Aurungzebe, to dethrone
and imprison his royal father, and usurp his do-
minions. A quotation of my own words,* if I

* See First Impressions and Studies from Nature in Hindostan.
London, Allen and Co., 1837.

N

134

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL,

may be permitted the liberty, will tell sufficient of
his history very briefly. He came to the throne by
the death of his father in 1628. “ Shah Jehan was

an amiable and wise prince, universally beloved by
his subjects, and a very pattern of excellence in private
life. He had four sons, who, with one exception, the
crafty Aurungzebe, followed in their father’s steps,
and imitated his virtues. Aurungzebe, however,
proved himself a man of a very different disposition —
subtle, wily, and selfish ; — and upon him the father
found it necessary to keep a strict curb and an ever
watchful eye. But even this vigilance was insuf-
ficient to frustrate his deep-laid schemes of treason.
After several abortive attempts to seize the reins of
empire from his father’s hands, he threw off the
character of a prince, and under the pretext of ex-
piating his crimes, he habited himself as a fahkir,
and in that guise travelled all the way into the
Deccan ; there by the incessant exertion of bribery,
promises, and persuasions, he levied a large army, and
marched against the imperial city of his father, seizing
an opportunity while the officers of state were en-
gaged in another quarter. By an extraordinary concur-
rence of good fortune and skill, and by an inexplicable
agency, wherein artifice and duplicity were his chief
aids, he at last gained footing within the capital, and
secured the persons of his father and one of his elder
brothers : the other two being absent from Agra,
upon an expedition, remained at large, and being at
the time furnished with troops, made head against the

FORT OF AGRA.

135

usurper, but without avail.” The treacherous and
heartless son now incarcerated the Emperor his
father within the walls of his own fortress of Agra,
with the assurance that death alone would free him
from his confinement.

The dethroned Emperor was not, however, altogether
without consolation in his imprisonment. He sur-
vived his downfal about seven years, during which
period he was tenderly cheered and supported by the
companionship of his favourite daughter, the cele-
brated Begum Jehanari, who displayed the fulness
of her filial affection by voluntarily sharing her
fathers fallen state and loss of liberty. History
describes this extraordinary princess as being of sur-
passing beauty, and no less distinguished by her
excellent wit, her never-failing courage, and a bene-
volence of heart which was only equalled by her
virtue and constancy. The freshness of her youth
was devoted to the consolation of her spirit-broken
father, and to the study of science and elegant lite-
rature ; while the extent of her religious knowledge
and experience is the favorite theme of her admiring
historians. The building of the Moti Musjid is said
to have been suggested by this lovely princess to her
father, “ with the double motive of diverting his mind
from his afflictions, and of raising a memorial of his
piety which should not only induce others to follow
his holy mode of life, but furnish them with the
opportunity of performing their religious obligations.”*

* Ferishta’s History.

N 2

136

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

A knowledge of the origin of this Musjid cannot fail
to add greatly to the interest with which we regard it.
I was myself the more charmed when put in possession
of these facts, since I remembered having seen and
greatly admired the tomb of this illustrious Begum
Jehanari at Delhi not many months previously, and
having listened to the enthusiastic strains of praise
with which a native interlarded passages of her history.

From the peculiar and very chaste style of her
tomb, I should think it not improbable that this
princess had designed it herself ; for it is a constant
practice of Mohummedan chiefs to build their own
mausoleums during their life time. It consists of a
very elegant white marble sarcophagus, open at the top
so as to form a receptacle for mould in which flowers
might he planted ; it is delicately ornamented with
sculptured flowers, and a border of inlaid gems, but all
in a very simple style. Upon a polished tablet at the
upper end is an elegant inscription in Persian cha-
racters, very finely carved and inlaid in jet; —

\ ♦IF

c

which, being interpreted, signifies—

FORT OF AGRA.

137

“ Let not any person decorate my tomb with any
other thing than earth and flowers, for these are Attest
for the resting place of a holy spirit.

“ 1094 *

“The perishable pilgrim, Jebanari Begum, the
daughter of Shah Jehan, and a disciple of the Sainted
Tchisti.”

But to return from Delhi to the Moti Musjid; instead
of attempting any farther description in words, I think
I need make no apology for referring the gentle
reader to the frontispiece of the volume, which has been
very cleverly and carefully drawn by Mr. Roberts from
my sketch, and which presents as faithful an idea of
the building as it is possible to convey by art.
When after a long walk spent in admiration of this
truly beautiful building, I turned from the gate half
blinded with the sparkling glitter of all around me,
I could not resist the temptation of endeavouring to
learn something more about Begum Jelianari from
my intelligent young friend the Mussulman; but I
found he could not indulge me.

" Ah !” said the young fellow, with an audible sigh
and a somewhat lack-a-daisical air ; “ Ah, Great Sir,
what will not devoted woman do for the man she loves ?”

“ Aye ! or a daughter for her father ?” said I.

“That is very” true. Sir; the Begum was Shah
Jehan’s daughter ; but your honour, to whom every
thing is well known, must be familiar with that wise

* Of the Hijera.

138

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

saying which is constantly in the mouths of those
who read the poets. f A devoted stranger is more
dear than a neglectful relation ; hut an unhind kins-
man is less esteemed than an utter stranger nor is
the Hindoo story of

KING SADRAK AND HIS DEWAN

unknown to your excellence.” I declared my igno-
rance and my desire for light, and the talkative youth,
without farther introduction, commenced his tale, while
I seated myself on the shady side of an embrasure
overlooking the Jumna.

In ancient times there lived a Raja, by name Sa-
drak, in a magnificent palace overlooking the waters of
the Brahma-pootra ; he was a person of great wealth,
and of equal charity, so that none who left their slip-
pers at his door had cause for regret. In all things
was this Raja fortunate except in one ; he had an only
son, who, having thrice conspired against his father’s
life, was for ever banished his dominions. At the gate
of this hospitable chief there resided a venerable
dewan, * who wras the dispenser of his lord’s welcome
to all who deserved his hospitality, but it was also his
duty to see that no rogues or plunderers were admit-
ted. Now this trusty servant had filled his office during
three generations of the Raja’s family; and, by reason
of his extreme age, was becoming daily less able to
discharge, with due activity and disci eti on, the duties

* Dewan, a door keeper, an office of trust and of consequence in
the East.

FORT OF AGRA.

139

of his post ; and, through this failing of his mind and
body, great evil befel King Sadrak ; for daily depreda-
tions were committed upon his property by the hands
of the choars and dukhaits, who had little difficulty
in gaining access to the treasure.

Now the King being greatly incensed by these un-
grateful requitals of his bounty, called upon his slave
the dewan. “ Oh, dewan /” said he, “ have not you and
your children eaten my salt during many years ; have
not your infants become strong men and valiant through
my nourishment ; are they not honorably advanced in
my service ?” But when the old man made answer to
the Raja, the chief discovered that, by the lapse of
years, the strength and intelligence of his officer
had subsided into a second infancy. With much con-
cern the Raja endeavoured to convince himself that this
was not the truth ; but the more he enquired of the
aged dewan , the more folly did he encounter; until at
last, wearied and sore at heart, he motioned him to de-
part. And as he withdrew, making his usual obeisance,
the King, lamenting his loss, by chance exclaimed
aloud, “ Ah ! woe is me, who now shall sit at my gate
to keep guard over my palace and to regard those who
come and depart upon my charity !” Whereupon the
spirit of wisdom again lighted up the eyes and venerable
countenance of his aged slave, who, with deep submis-
sion returning to the presence, exclaimed ;

“ Oh, most potent prince ! is it not wisely written
that under a severe taskmaster the services of a slave
are cast away ? If he remain in silence he is despised

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as a fool; if he should become eloquent he is reviled
as a madman and a prattler ; if he be ever at his lord’s
heck he is declared to he an artful and designing
knave ; if he stand at a distance he is deemed slothful ;
if patient and submissive he is abused as a coward ;
if unable to endure abuse he is said to be an upstart
and rebellious. Great King, the path of a slave under
such a tyrant is indeed difficult and not to he per-
formed even by a saint. But what need of endurance
has there been on the part of your mightiness’ slave ?
has he not been overloaded with favors ? and now,
that he is about to drink the sherbet of dissolution,
what chance remains to him of proving his fidelity and
gratitude P But oh, my master ! be not apprehensive
lest a servant less devoted should occupy the entrance
to your palace. It is not unknown to your excellence
that, as long as your slave has dwelt in the gate, his
labors have been shared, and his moments of repose
have been enlightened, by the presence of the beautiful
Luchmi, the goddess of prosperity, who has thought
it bliss to become the servant of so great and wise a
prince. Behold, she shall supply the departure of
your slave with one equally worthy of your confidence !”
Having thus spoken, the dewan made his reverence
and withdrew.

In a short time there stood before the entrance of
the palace a traveller, toil-worn, and having his power-
ful limbs subdued by fatigue. “ Oh dewan” cried he,
“ I am hut now arrived at your palace from a far-
distant land, and, having left my wife and child in

FORT OF AGRA.

141

the city, I have not taken repose before I seek the
presence of King Sadrak. I am a Rajhpoot, my
name is Behrid; admit me to the presence.”

With permission, the traveller was shortly presented
to the Raja, and with reverence spoke ; “ Behold, oh
King, I am a stranger in these parts, hut in a far-off
country, having heard of the fame of your mightiness’
wisdom and great virtues, and of the depredations of
certain marauding ingrates who have abused your
honor’s hospitality, I have travelled day and night
to offer my services to your majesty.”

Now King Sadrak, being a prudent as well as a
generous prince, enquired, “ What salary dost thou
expect ?”

“ Be not wroth nor surprised, oh King, that I
demand for my service four hundred pieces of gold
daily.”

" Truly,” replied the monarch, with a smile, “ it
is evident that the most disinterested admiration of
my many excellent qualities drew thee to my foot-
stool. Thy excessive modesty is thy best fortune.
Doubtless thy craft is one of great skill and inge-
nuity ; with what tools dost thou exercise thy cun-
ning ? *’

“ Most illustrious Raja, my tools are the best
part of my calling ; they are three in number ; my
two arms and my sabre.”

“ And for such costly trade thou art content to
demand so small a pittance as four hundred pieces
of gold daily ; this over-diffident estimation of thy

142

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deserts proves thee a fool. Dewan,” added King
Sadrak, “let this stranger depart as he came!”

But here the chief vizier ventured to interpose.
“ Oh Prince,” said he apart, “ let not this traveller
be thus repulsed, I cannot but think that there is
excellence in him. May your highness be pleased to
grant him his exorbitant claim but for a few days, and
when he is proved, it will be in your power to dis-
charge him, or to retain him upon such stipend as
may be proportionate to his merits. Let it please
your majesty to place him as dewan within the gate,
and let a continual watch he placed upon his ac-
tions!1’ This speech pleased the Raja greatly, and
having bestowed some mark of favour upon the
stranger, he admitted him to his service with the
salary of four hundred pieces of gold daily.

Having received his commission, the traveller
brought his wife and child to the gate of the palace,
hut it was remarked that he would not suffer them
to dwell in the gate, nor to sport in the shadow of it ;
neither would he render any explanation of this
fanciful proceeding ; but with his own hands he built
them a small hut, without the gate, at the foot of a
large tomb. No sooner had this Rajhpoot become
established in his office than the former dewan was
carried to the water and expired ; but while all the
household mourned his loss they could not but be
sensible that his place was excellently well filled.
In a very few days it became evident, that the
Rajhpoot was a man of no common ability and

FORT OF AGRA.

143

discernment; his inferiors respected, and his su-
periors admired him, for his zeal and his discretion ;
nor did the Raja think fit to reduce his salary
honestly confessing that his services were even under-
valued : and it was apparent that avarice formed no
blemish in the man’s character, for daily when his
money was disbursed from the treasury, without os-
tentation, he devoted one half of it to the 2:0 ds and to
the Brahmins, distributed one quarter to the poor, and
the remainder he reserved for himself. In his duties he
was never failing, in his good works he was constant.
Day and night he continued at the palace gate, having
his sword in his hand ; he was just to all men, but
over-indulgent to none. Thus during many years
he continued to serve the Raja.

As the Rajhpoot was esteemed among all who knew
him, so his son became even more greatly the object
of affection and regard. Handsome of person, as he
grew towards manhood he was equally remarkable for
his amiable and elegant deportment ; and it was fully
expected by all that the Raja would place him in
some post of honor and confidence about his royal
person, as soon as his education was complete. But
about this time the following event took place.

Upon the fourteenth day of the averted moon, the
city of king Sadrak was visited with a fearful earth-
quake ; and at midnight the raging winds shook the
lofty towers of the castle, and the glancing lightnings
sported from dome to minaret of the palace, while
the massive walls trembled to the rolling thunder.

144

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

Now, contrary to his custom, the Rajhpoot, pitying
the alarm of his wife, while exposed in the humble hut
to the terrors of the hurricane, had admitted her with
his son to shelter within the chambers of the gate ;
and as they sat conversing, while the storm was at its
utmost, there was heard at the gate a mournful cry,
and the trembling accents of weeping and lamen-
tation. Then cried the dewan, ‘ Who stands with-
out P ’ but receiving no answer, he opened the gate,
and sought wdience the voice had come, but could
discover no one. Having made diligent search they
became greatly amazed, for whenever the dewan
closed the gate, the same melancholy wailings were
renewed.

Then the dewan sent his son to inform the Raja of
these strange things, who having come to the gate in
person, and having satisfied himself of the truth of
those lamentable sounds, commanded the Rajhpoot to
go forth and seek the author of them, and never to
return into his presence until he was fully informed of
every thing concerning them. With humble respect
the dewan immediately obeyed his lord’s command,
and went forth ; but no sooner had he departed than
the king, thinking within himself that he had not
done wisely in sending a single man unsupported
upon such a service, drew his scimitar and followed
him out of the gate directly, charging Behrid’s son to
open the gate unto none save themselves. But king
Sadrak was unable to find the dewan, he having

TORT OF AGRA.

145

entered the tomb at the foot of which he had built
his little hut.

While he was anxiously pursuing his search
among the ruins, Behrid suddenly found himself
in the presence of a most lovely damsel, exceedingly
young and graceful, the radiant splendour of whose
countenance shed a bright light throughout the
vaulted apartment. The dewan fell upon his face
before the exquisite beauty ; “ Oh, Luchmi ! ” cried
he, “ most glorious goddess of felicity, wherefore dost
thou thus mourn and lament P ”

“ Ah, miserable Behrid,” replied the goddess, “ hast
thou forgotten my commands ? hast thou not expelled
me from my abode in the gateway of King Sadrak, by
bringing into my presence thy disgraced wife, wdiose
life was dearer to thee than her honour. Miserable
man, thou art the ruin of the noble prince who has
so generously sheltered and befriended thee. In
consequence of thy crime, am I compelled to with-
draw my favour and protection from the palace of the
king.”

Behrid trembled with fear, and his whole frame
became distended with remorse ; he uttered a stifled
groan, and buried his face in the dust, as he
sobbed forth, — “Oh, thou most redoubtable Goddess !
may not the extreme contrition of thy slave be dis-
played, and thy favour be regained for my lord the
king by the voluntary sacrifice of thy slave’s life ? ”

“ Nay, thou faithless miscreant,” replied the god*

o

146

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

dess, “ of what account is thy sullied life ? to whom
would it be acceptable ? But mark me, in the pu-
rity and perfection of thy son’s soul could I find
pleasure; him will I condescend to receive as an
atonement;” and having uttered these words the
goddess vanished. Hereupon the penitent Behrid
rose from the earth, and taking his sabre, returned
to the gate, where, in the presence of his wife,
he declared to his son all that had befallen him.

Then his son, rising with a smile of rapture on his
lips, bowed his head and exclaimed : — “ Fortunate
indeed am I become, Oh father, that I am thus se-
lected to re-establish the prosperity of King Sadrak,
our most noble prince. Strike, my father, for in truth
I am rejoiced thus to quit life.”

“ Let me embrace thee, mine only one,” cried the
weeping mother, “ and now farewell, — what less can
we do ? Strike, Behrid ! ”

Then the deivan drew his sword, and at one
blow struck off the head of his son, and as the life-
less trunk rolled heavily upon the ground he thus
spoke : “ Here indeed is a full atonement for my
folly, and a proof of my devotion to my lord’s cause :
but having destroyed my only child, what comfort
remains to me ? assuredly my life is a fruitless
burden.” Thus having said, he raised his sword,
still warm with the blood of his son, and plunged it
into his own heart. Beholding this, the wife and
mother felt her spirit die within her, and taking the

FORT OF AGRA.

147

dagger from her husband’s girdle, she was about to
liberate her soul, when King Sadrak returned, and
inquired the meaning of this bloody spectacle. She
informed him fully of all that had passed, and imme-
diately buried the dagger in her bosom.

“ The noble monarch, looking with the deepest
regret and admiration upon the prostrate corpses of
these devoted servants, was penetrated to the soul
with anguish, and proudly exclaiming, “ Thus to die
is glory,” he unsheathed his scimitar, and was about
to put an end to his life, when the goddess Luchmi,

“ Daughter of Ocean and primeval Night,

Who fed with moonbeams dropping silver dew,

And cradled in a wild wave dancing light,

Saw with a smile new shores and creatures new,”*

descended before him, and the weapon remained sus-
pended.

“ Stay thy hand,” said the goddess, in a voice of
mercy, “ is not this sufficient ? I will renew my
guard over thy reign, and again thou shalt prosper.’

“ Oh, goddess,” cried the king, falling prostrate,
“ wherefore should my hand he stayed, when my life
has become hateful to me, and my kingdom a bur-
den ? If thou regardest my devotion, command that
these my servants he restored to animation, and let
my worthless life be taken in exchange.”

“ Enough,” said Luchmi, “ I am fully satisfied with

* Hymn to Luchmi, translated from the Sanskrit, by Sir W. Jones.

o 2

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thy piety, and thy generous affection for tliy servants ;
be thou for ever prosperous, and receive the obeisance
of thy slaves.” On these words the prostrate bodies of
Behrid, his wife, and son, became re-animated, and
arose to pay homage to the deity, but she had va-
nished, and the King had returned to his chamber.

Now when morning was come, and the Raja was
present in the assembly of his counsellors and chief
ministers, he sent for the dewan, and inquired of
him whence arose the disturbance in the night time ;
and Behrid being uninformed of what his wife
had declared unto the king, was desirous of conceal-
ing his merit, and replied, “ Oh, King ! an unfor-
tunate female wept, hut she has departed on her way.”

Then the King was greatly pleased, and said aloud
before the council, “ How can this most virtuous
servant be sufficiently rewarded?” and having re-
lated his history to the chiefs there assembled,
he with his own hand adjusted upon Behrid s
person a most princely kliilat (dress of honor) which
he had ordered to be prepared. Then he bestowed
upon him one fourth part of his territory, and made
his son heir to his entire dominions.

Wherefore then is it not apparent that “ a devoted
stranger is more dear than a neglectful relation ; but
an unkind kinsman is less esteemed than an utter
stranger?” There is also another saying,— ' r‘ In peril
is a friend proved, in battle a hero, in wealth a reli-
gious person, a wise man in poverty, in calamity a
kinsman.”

149

DEIG.

SHRINE OE MOHUMMED KAHN.

The fortress of Deig is about sixty miles north-
west from Agra, upon an eminence in the Bhurtpore
range of hills. It is said to be of very great antiquity,
though it was but a humble fortification before it was
rebuilt by the great Emperor Akbur. A curious
legend is told of this place, and made to assume the
importance of history by the support of Abul Fazil,
to the effect that after a very elegant and extensive city
had been completed on this spot by the Emperor, it
was suddenly swallowed up by an earthquake, together
with all its unfortunate inhabitants. Certain it is that
for very many years, the place, having become a heap
of ruins, was utterly abandoned and shunned with
superstitious awe by the people of those parts. In 1760,
however, Suraj Muhl, the Jhat Raja, found a few cot-
tages inhabited upon tbe spot, and these he soon con-
verted into a fortified town for the occupation of his
troops, who, some years afterwards having become dis-
o 3

150

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

affected, treacherously conspired to place it in the hand
of the insurgent Neujif Khan. In 1787, however, it was
re-captured by the Jhats, and by them occupied until
it fell before the besieging army of Lord Lake, in 1805.
The place is now little more than a town of ruin and
desolation, for the inhabited part of it forms by far the
smaller portion. Some of these remains are equal in
beauty to any that are to be found in Delhi or Agra,
and though, chiefly of the same era, are singularly va-
ried in their style and design.

It is quite laughable to behold with what uneasy
jealousy the natives, especially the lower orders, uni-
versally regard the movements of the exploring Euro-
pean as he clambers from ruin to ruin, from tomb to
banquet-hall ; and at first the inexperienced lover of
antiquities is at a loss to account for the persevering
assiduity with which his steps are dogged and his
actions watched by these intruders upon his privacy.
He cannot long remain in ignorance of the cause of
this persecution ; for after having delighted his eyes
with carved mouldings and prostrate columns, half
legible inscriptions, and moss-grown sculptures ; after
having examined and re-examined certain up-turned
tablets and crumbling ornaments ; after having often
used his walking cane for a crow-bar, and the toe of
his boot as a substitute for a pick-axe, and having con -
veyed to the capacious recesses of his shooting-jacket
pocket certain valuable remnants of mosaic work or
fragments of jasper and bloodstone ; some impertinent

DEIG.

151

native, more forward than the rest, will venture to com-
pliment him upon the success of his search, and assure
him that the excellent knowledge of the English leads
them to the immediate discovery of treasure without
the necessity of implements, whereas an ignorant man
of the country would have toiled all day with his
tools, and have thought himself fortunate to have found
even a single small coin or trinket. A black man can-
not possibly comprehend what other object than gain
can allure the wanderer to explore those scenes of
desolation ; if you speak of a curiosity, he understands
a piece of ancient money which may be converted
into current coin, or a jewelled relic which may be
bartered or melted down to serve the same purpose. It
will be found impossible to convince him that history
or antiquarian research have anything to do with the
pursuit, and he is somewhat inclined to regard it as
an act of poaching, an infringement of his legal right,
to search for treasure among the ruins of his own city .
This may be easily believed, when it is understood,
that in every ancient Mussulman city, when the ruins
are extensive, there are generally some hundreds of
treasure-hunters who make this calling their regular,
or rather I should say irregular, means of subsistence.
In former times of revolution and rapine, it was the
invariable custom of all the wealthy to conceal their
riches in some private recess about their mansions; and,
to this day, many are the families who are suddenly
raised from abject poverty to comparative luxury,

152

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

by a lucky find in walls, or wells, or secret niches.
Some are exceedingly artful and ingenious in their
ways and means of discovering these deposits of trea-
sure, and I believe considerable skill can alone render
it a very profitable trade, unless the goddess Luchmi
should condescend to guide the seeker.

Beyond the walls of Deig the country is for some
miles dotted with the remains of gardens and basins of
water, and many very handsome buildings. The sub-
ject of the engraving, which illustrates or is illustrated
by this article, is one of these. It is a picturesque object,
though when nearly approached it loses much of its
importance and beauty, being built of brick, overlaid
with white plaster to imitate marble, of which it has all
the resplendent appearance when viewed at a distance.
The building is called the Shrine of Mohummed Kahn,
a Mussulman chief, who figured in the history of these
provinces contemporary with Afrasiab, and who after
death became sainted ; but for what cause I was un-
able to ascertain. His life certainly does not appear
to have displayed any great piety, for history repre-
sents him to have been a man of a naturally ferocious
disposition, debased by intemperance and the reckless
indulgence of a vengeful temper and inordinate avarice.
Of this the following passage will be sufficient evidence :
it presents a striking picture of the insubordination
and intrigue which have nowhere been carried to a
more fearful height than in the government of the
kingdom of Delhi. The flux and reflux of power, the

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153

hourly revulsion of the public will, the instability of
popularity and command in the wild tumult of alternate
despotism and anarchy, cannot I believe be illustrated
by ancient or modern history more fully than in the
following incidents, which I present to the reader as
an example of the character of my hero, whose me-
mory is sainted among the Mussulmans and upheld
as a pattern of excellence.

In the reign of Shah Aulum, Emperor of Delhi,
the office of vizier had long since been matter
of rivalry between Afrasiab and Mirza Zaffi Kahn,
but the former being a chief of great influence, and
being much beloved by the people, continued in power,
notwithstanding it was rumoured that the affection of
the Emperor was in favour of Mirza Zaffi, to whom
he had given a command of troops upon the borders.
At the same time Mohummed Kahn, the subject of
this sketch, was governor of the Fort of Agra, and be-
tween him and Afrasiab there had for many years
existed a bitter enmity, which daily circumstances
continued to inflame, until at last the ever watchful
Mohummed Kahn, taking advantage of certain politi-
cal disorders in the capital, determined upon seizing
this opportunity of slaking his rancourous thirst for
vengeance. He entered into a conspiracy with the
equally envious Mirza Zaffi, and laid a scheme for
alluring the minister from the court, so that his rival
being at hand with his troops might enter the city
and usurp the office of vizier.

154

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

With this view Mirza Zaffi collected a large
force, and dividing them into small bodies, advanced
within one day’s march of the capital, and then
Mohummed Kahn having issued from the fort of
Agra with a small band of his adherents, made a
descent upon and laid waste the private estate of the
Vizier, which that nobleman no sooner ascertained
than he obtained the Emperor’s permission to punish
the offender, with a strong body of troops from the
garrison. Then immediately as Afrasiah quitted
Delhi, Mirza Zaffi marched in, and boldly ad-
vancing his men into the very palace of the Em-
peror, he was at once proclaimed Vizier by that im-
becile monarch, who also was persuaded to bestow
upon him the hand of the Begum Khadeja’s daughter,
together with a large sum of money as a dowry.

Being over-elated with his extraordinary success,
the new Vizier threw off that courteous and fascinating
address which, for a time, had gained him the voice
of the nobles and officers around the King’s person,
and displayed his character in its true colors, before
he had become firmly established in his new dignity.
His conduct became suddenly so overhearing and
imperious that his adherents fell off from him daily ;
those who had been most active in his support were
speedily his bitterest foes, and as fully determined
upon his removal as they had been anxious for his
success. Conspiracies were springing up in all
quarters within the city and the court, but their

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155

agency was rendered unnecessary by the policy of
Afrasiab, to whom news of the revolution had been
carried before he had arrived at his jaghir. At the
same time, the supplanted minister being unprepared
for the reaction in his favor which so suddenly took
effect at court, deliberated upon his means of re-
dress, and finding himself with too small a force
to act unsupported in open defiance of the Emperor,
he prudently changed the object of his expedition,
and instead of chastising Mohummed Kahn for his
aggression, he forthwith made overtures of coalescence
with that chief, promising him an equal share with
himself in the administration. Mohummed Kahn,
ever ready for enterprize, ever zealous in his own
cause, and panting for power, without demur acceded
to the proposal, united his troops with those of
Afrasiab, and with this powerful force the insurgents
now marched against the capital. On their route
thither they persuaded many disaffected chiefs to
accompany them with their armies, and by private
emissaries they even succeeded in winning over to
their cause several of the chief among the nobles at
court, and likewise M. Paulin, a French officer com-
manding the troops of the renowned Begum Sumroo.

It appears however that the rebels pressed their
confidence rather too far at court, for some of the
chiefs, becoming alarmed for their own safety, dis-
covered the plot to the Emperor, and urged upon him
the necessity of dismissing the perfidious minister.

156

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

Mirza Zaffi, and of marching immediately to disperse
the forces of Afrasiab and of Mohummed Kahn, who
gained strength daily, and who were fast advancing
upon the capital. This treacherous disclosure was
detected by M. Paulin, who with the rest of the
conspiring nobles immediately changed their ground,
and offered their services for the punishment of the
insurgents. All this occurred at the early council,
while Mirza Zaffi, ever more a soldier than a states-
man, was exercising his troops upon the plain
without the city gates. He had not, however, left his
seat without trusty surveillance, and no sooner had
the Emperor acquiesced in the scheme than his
secret emissary carried the news to his master. Now
Mirza Zaffi having his cousin Mujeid ud Dowla with
about fifteen hundred horse at that moment under
review, boldly addressed them and declared the
danger to which he was exposed. With one voice
they swore him service ; and, after a few seconds
of deliberation, the wily chief made known his reso-
lution to hasten forthwith and combine his force with
that of the very men who were in arms against him.
With full confidence that their self-interest would prove
more durable than their enmity, he marched directly
to their camp, and demanding an audience with the
chiefs made his proposal, which was immediately ac-
cepted. Thus were these three hitherto implacable
enemies bound by the same compact of treachery,
avarice, ambition, and mutual protection.

DEIG.

157

The news of this formidable confederacy excited
terrible apprehension at court, but the Prince Mirza
Juwan, son of the Emperor, at once undertook, in
co-operation with M. Paulin, to meet and overthrow
the rebel army. This spirited and salutary advice,
however, was unfortunately over-ruled by the intrigue
of the Begum Khadeja, who apprehensive of evil to
her son-in-law, Mirza Zaffi, persuaded the Emperor
to embrace an amicable negociation, to which Shah
Aulum, with the irresolution and pusillanimity which
marked the latter years of his reign, acceded ; and the
Prince Mirza Juwan, accompanied by M. Paulin and
Latafut Kahn, was charged with the embassy.

The traitors, having signified their readiness to
accept a compromise, admitted the royal ambassadors
to their camp, but through a wanton love of bloodshed
and vengeance, they surrounded the council tent with
an ambush, took the chiefs with their followers
prisoners, and, without delay, barbarously murdered
M. Paulin and burnt out the eyes of Latafut. Then
making their own terms as to the ransom of the
Prince’s life, they marched in triumph and entered
the city of Delhi, where the enfeebled monarch was
compelled to receive them with every mark of royal
favour and affection. Mirza Zaffi was immediately
reinstated in the dignity of prime minister, and the
other conspirators were loaded with titles and honors ;
but the faithless Mirza, faithless to the most solemn
vows which through suspicion had been imposed

p

158 THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

upon him by Mohummed Kahn, refused to comply
with the terms of the compact, and retained in his
own%hands the sole administration of affairs. And
now again deeming that he was too firmly fixed in
power to be shaken from his seat, he excited the
discontent and hatred of the nobles by renewed acts
of tyranny and insolence ; so that in a very few days
he incurred the vengeance which his infamy merited.

Mohummed Kahn, indulging the natural ferocity
of his heart, swore to accomplish his destruction, and
in concert with other malcontents plotted his death
by the hand of the assassin.

Having ascertained that the minister was about to
march to Agra upon state business, they, as if un de-
signedly, encamped under the walls of Deig, through
which town he would of necessity pass, and when
Mirza Zaffi approached, they engaged in a feigned
dispute of a riotous nature among themselves touch-
ing the boundaries of certain lands. When the
cause of the tumult was reported to the Vizier, he
signified his pleasure to adjust the difference and
decide upon the claim, and for that purpose ordered
his elephant to be driven into the camp of the
disputants, where, meeting face to face his rivals and
their supporters, the Mirza wisely treated them with
unwonted respect and courtesy. He directed his ele-
phant to approach that of Mohummed Kahn, who in
compliance with ancient usage rose in his hdoda ,
saluted and embraced the Vizier, and in so doing

DEIG.

159

seized and detained his right hand, which, being pre-
concerted, was the signal for his death-blow. The
slave who rode behind Mohummed Khan drew his
dagger and stabbed the Vizier to the heart.

When the news of this treachery was made known
to the Emperor, the assassins were received by that
weak monarch with every expression of pleasure, and
the office of Vizier was immediately conferred upon
Afrasiab. Mohummed Khan was also greeted with
marks of the Kings approbation, and was invested
with the command of a province, where he continued
somewhat out of reach of court intrigue for many
years ; but having on some occasion offered an
indignity to his old ally and enemy, Afrasiab, he fell
a victim to the revenge of that remorseless villain,
and was buried in the vicinity of the spot where he
had accomplished the assassination of Mirza Zaffi.

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160

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

THE BHURTPORE OR BIANA HILLS.

Akbur, Emperor of Delhi, the most renowned of
all the Mogul monarchs, removed his court from the
imperial city, on account of the difficult navigation of
the Jumna in the dry season, and made Agra his
capital ; the river being up to that place fairly prac-
ticable, during the greater part of the year. He
however found the climate of Agra by no means
comparable to that of Delhi, and glad to escape from
the heat and glare of the city which he had founded,
he built for himself a magnificent garden residence,
at a place called Futtehpore Sikri, about four and
twenty miles distant from Agra, upon the Delhi
road. The walls inclosing this royal palace, its
offices and stately courts, were six miles in circum-
ference, having within their limits two or three of
the highest points of the Bhurtpore or Biana range
of hills. The situation is most romantic, and the

FTJTTEHPORE SIKRI.

161

climate particularly fine ; in all respects it must have
been a fitting residence for this great and glorious
monarch, whose name is revered by the natives no
less than that of Alexander the Great.

This sumptuous range of palaces, occupied solely
by the royal household, was, I believe, unrivalled in
extent and magnificence throughout the world. It is
now a heap of deserted mins, although founded not
more than two hundred and seventy years since. It
is utterly subverted, and all its noblest buildings are
prostrate, except one or two sacred shrines of Moslem
saints, and the state entrance, which are still kept in
repair. Of the other principal edifices there is in
most cases just so much left standing as to render
their original purposes apparent, and to evince the
extraordinary grandeur of their design and the rich-
ness of their decorations ; but Futtehpore Sikri, like
most other places of great celebrity in Hindostan,
has been so favourite a theme of modern travellers,
that a verbal description of it would only weary my
readers ; for, those who take a delight in the history
of the oriental world are doubtless already familiar
with the details of this famous place ; while, if I
attempted to describe them, those who are indifferent
to the subject would lay aside my volume with that
elusive and irretrievable declaration of distaste po-
litely and learnedly styled an oscitation, which goes
more bitterly to the heart of a presumptuous author
than the most poignant attacks of open censure. To
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THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL,

those who are neither well acquainted with the won-
ders to which I refer, nor insensible to their merits,
if proved, I give this modest assurance, — that the
annexed plate is the finest illustration that could be
offered them, and more eloquent than a whole chapter
of words. It is a part of the ancient serai, and over-
looks the site of the arena, which was used by
the Emperors for chariot races and wild beast fights.

There is one curious fact in the history of the
great Akbur, which I have never met with in the
English language, and therefore I shall not hesitate
to introduce it here. Eminent as he really was7
both as a soldier and a statesman, Akbur was no less
skilled in the dark mysteries of the soothsayer.
Numerous are the accredited instances in which he
is stated to have divined with truth the most inscru-
table operations of fate, whole months before they
were open to the vulgar eye ; and to this day is dis-
played by the guides at Futtehpore Sikri the mystic
chamber, or rather the remnants of it, in which the
subtle secrets of the magic arts were practised by the
Emperor. It has been before remarked, that the
Brahmins have great pretensions to excellence in the
occult sciences ; and, although he was the great
Mogul himself, to these heretics Akbur was pleased
to extend his especial patronage ; he even con-
descended to admit them to his cedes sacra, when
their great proficiency entitled them to that honor.
To this rather than to his earth-bound wisdom, the

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

163

Brahmins attribute his unbroken prosperity, during a
reign of peace and plenty, extending over half a
century. The miraculous tales which are told and
believed of Akbur and his school of soothsayers are,
as I said, innumerable, and certainly many are very
ingenious, and appear to carry with them very con-
vincing evidence of their truth.

Of all the dealers in magic throughout the Indian
Empire, those of Surat appear to have been most
celebrated ; and certainly some of their predictions
have been of that nature which at once confounds
the sceptic, and leaves him only the option of follow-
ing Addison’s advice touching ghost stories. I can-
not answer for words, I quote them from memory—
“ we must not entirely believe them, because they
may be false ; we must not altogether disbelieve
them, because they may be true.”

A very scarce and curious work has just come into
my possession, entitled — “ A Voyage to Suratt, in
the year 1689, by J. Covington, M.A., Chaplain to
his Majesty ; ” a work which is highly complimented
in the Harleian Catalogue, Vol. II. p. 698. The
reader, I take for granted, will readily pardon my
quoting a page or two from the quaintly written diary
of this reverend gentleman, recounting a very sin-
gular instance of circumstantial accuracy in one of
these prophets ; and after perusal, I doubt not but he
will join in the pretty things said to the author in

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an ode prefixed to the book, in which his friend as-
sures him,

“ You have so lively your Discov’ries Writ,

We Reade and Voyage with you as we sit,

With you hoise Sail and reach the Indian Shoare ;

The reale Scene cou’d scarce delight us more.’’

“ For Astrologie and Natural Physick ,” says our
ancient author, “ the Indian Brahmins account
themselves still very eminent and renowned ', hy
which they foretel such distant Occurrences , and
effect such strong Operations as seem to Men very
wonderfull and astonishing, and not to he done
without some secret Recourse to the Invisible Spirits,
or familiaritie with Supernatural Powers. We
reade the same of some excellent ancient Philoso-
phers, so learn d in the Works of Nature as thereby
to point out the times both of Eclipses in the Pla-
nets and Commotions in the State, Earthquakes and
Inundations , Storms at Sea, and Plagues at Land .
And that the Reader may see that their extraordinary
Skill in magical Operations is not yet vanisht, I will
here relate a Story of them, which I remember was
often publickly repeated by the last President at Su-
rat t, Bartholomew Harris, concerning a certain Brah-
min, in the time of the Presidency of Mr. Aungers,
who foretold the Arrival of a certain English ship
several Months afore she came to the Harbour .
President Aungers being under a disturbance of his
mind, and oppress'd with some perplext Thoughts for

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

165

Want of Intelligence from England, was desired by
the Brahmin Physician, who observ'd his Grief and
the Melancholie of his Spirit, the Reason of his Con-
cern and dejected Looks, with a cheerfull Tender of
his Service and Willingness to administer to him in
anything that might contribute to the removal of his
Malady, and to his Cure.

“ The President told him, that it teas beyond the
Power of Pliy sick to heal his Disease, or abate that
Distemper he laboured under; that no Cordial cou'd
revive Thoughts, but News from England, or cheer his
Heart, except it were the Sight of an English Ship,
which he had long expected, but now despaired of.

‘ If an English Ship, then,’ says the Brahmin, ‘ is
your only Cure, be 'pleased to give me Leave to be ab-
sent for three or four Days ! and I question not, by
that Time, but to remove your Trouble, and bring you
undoubted News of that Medicine you long for. Upon
which the President consented to his departure for
that Time, and withal promised him, as an Encou-
ragement to his Skill, a rich Paramin, or Indian
Mantle, for a Reward. Within four Days the Brah-

min return'd, and, addressing himself to the President,
assured him that, at such a Time, art English Ship
would arrive at Suratt River's Mouth, with such a
particular Person, who had formerly been in India,
on board her ; and that on such a particular Day of
the Month, he would arrive at the Custom-house of
Suratt, before Eleven in the Morning. The President,
pleas'd with this Assurance and this confident Relation

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of the Brahmin, diverted himself with the thoughts of
it for some time, and a little after, rehears'd it jocu-
larly, at a publick Dinner, to all the Factors. The
young Men ivho heard this Discourse, did, sometime
after, recollect with themselves , as they were walking
down the Banks of the River, to enjoy the Morning
Breeze, that this was the critical Morning foretold
by the Brahmin, when an English Ship should arrive,
and such a particular Person in her. The thoughts
of it hastened them back towards the Custom-house, to
enquire if there were any English News, and upon
their return were surpris'd at the Sight of an English
Boat, which they espied was rowing up the River ;
and, were no sooner arrived at the Custom-house, but
they found the Englishman, who had been expected ,
in her. The News of this was very gratefull to the
President, and not ungratefull to the Brahmin, ivho
received a curious Paramin from the Hands of the
Governour, whom he had oblig'd with so faithful and
particular a Prophetick Relation.

“ And the worthy President, Mr. Harris, ivho had
himself been sometimes in Distress for English News,
has likewise told me of a Brahmins Proposals to him,
of bringing him undoubted Intelligence how the Com-
pany's affairs in England stood, within the space of
four days ; but that he dared not to accept of the Pro-
position, because he was confident that it depended
upon the Assistance of a Familiar. And surely those
Sprightly Beings can easily despatch a very tedious

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

167

Voyage in a very short time. For if we only consider
the nimble Progress of Light through the Air — with
what Swiftness it darts its bright active Atoms from
East to West, and flies through the immense Expanse
from the lofty Regions of the Sky, we cannot ivith any
great Reason deny this same, or greater Power to the
active Spirits of Darkness, who are strip t of all the
Clogs of Matter, and void of all material Substance
I could have presented the reader with anecdotes of
the same description, which far surpass the foregoing
in the wonders of magical power ; hut since they are
attested by natives, not by European governors, pre-
sidents, and chaplains, of His Britannic Majesty, I
thought it possible that, in this matter-of-fact age,
they might have been contemptuously treated as idle
inventions, or, at least, have been regarded with unme-
rited suspicion. For the same reason, I have not
ventured to detail the rites and ceremonies, the canta-
tions and incantations, which have been described to
me, as the means by which this supernatural know-
ledge is acquired. That vile impostors have, at various
times, brought evil report upon the art by pretend-
ing to its mysteries, cannot be contradicted ; hut
surely it has been so with all other arts and mysteries
from the days of Noah downwards; and with deference
it is submitted, that this very circumstance is, in
reality, a compliment to the genuine science, rather
than a disgrace to it ; for the impostor certainly will
not assume the colours of that in which there is no

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virtue. Others there are, however, whose conduct has
tended greatly to overthrow the public faith in these
matters ; those who, for the accomplishment of sinis-
ter purposes, have allowed and encouraged a false
belief, that they were in communion with, and in the
enjoyment of, supernatural powers from spirits of an-
other world, until the deceit has been discovered.
By the fraudulent behaviour of two such persons, not
long since, was the simple credulity of the people
abused, and discredit for a while befel magic and the
magicians in all the country round about Futtehpore
Sikri, and Agra.

Trusting that my readers are disposed to be en-
tertained with this very curious subject, I shall in
few words relate the circumstance here alluded to,
begging them to rely upon my assurance that the
story — even if it be by wilful misrepresentation or
accidental misconception, by an over-anxiety for the
full display of truth, or the insensible influence of the
imagination, in any measure embellished — is never-
theless founded upon fact, built with the materials of
original reality, and its base supported by the most
substantial testimony.

I have noticed the wild romantic appearance of
the range of hills upon which Futtehpore Sikri is
elevated ; and certainly no place could be more ap-
propriate to the dark and mysterious tales of magic,
or the deeds of carnage and intrigues of a bloody and
despotic court, than the interminable ruins of forts

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

169

and tombs which are scattered in all directions along
the chain. The plate gives a representation of the
country on the south of the Biana range between
Futtehpore Sikri and Agra, and not far from the
scene of the story which I am about to relate.

Among the ruins here alluded to are those of an
ancient mausoleum, commonly known by the name of

THE JAOD BHAE ;

though why so called none can explain, since the
extreme antiquity of the building has left, neither by
history nor tradition, any account or fair conjecture ot
its origin, the date of its construction, or of the rank
or nation of him in honor of whom it was erected.
From time immemorial it continued to be the resort
of the religious, both among Hindoos and Mussul-
mans, who worshipped the unknown saint with equal
devotion, until the occurrence of which I am about to
speak raised in their minds some awkward appre-
hensions lest the place should happen to be tenanted
by a race of spirits inimicable to those whom they
were accustomed to invoke within its walls.

The Jaod Bhae, though by no means an extensive
building, was of elephantine stability, upon the plan
of an octagon, having a solitary chamber within, the
breadth of which was something less than the thick-
ness of its walls, and these were very many feet of
solid masonry. It was raised upon a terrace about
five feet in height, and was covered by a massive
Q

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dome, moss-grown and blackened with age, but still
unimpaired in strength. The lower parts of the
structure alone showed symptoms of decay, a foot or
two of solid masonry having been eaten away all
round the base by damp and corrosion, or worn by
the touch of the devotees, who according to the
accounts of the natives have continued their visits to
it through thousands of successive generations.

Dark and mysterious was the place within; the
foot-fall was re-echoed ten thousand times with hol-
low reverberations, and the voice was carried circling
up to the vaulted roof in solemn swells of most un-
earthly sound, which could not fail to startle the
intruder and make him strive to penetrate with
curious eye the impervious gloom which filled the
lofty dome. Bats and noisome reptiles, hithefto un-
seen, revealed themselves the instant they were dis-
turbed by the entrance of a visitor ; and it required
no small nerve there to remain and keep the mind
intent upon devotion, while repeating even a short
prayer, amid the hissing of snakes, the loathsome
creeping of lizards, the screaming and flapping of
vampires, and the concerted accompaniment of innu-
merable obnoxious vermin ; and yet thousands there
were who braved all these terrors to seek favor of this
saint unknown.

Four or five years since two soldiers of the East
India Company’s European Regiment who were
then cantoned at Agra applied to their commanding

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

171

officer for leave of absence from their military duties
for a few days, upon the plea of seeking for some
treasure among the ruins in the neighbourhood,
affirming that they had certain intelligence of a spot
where it could be found. It being by no means of
rare occurrence that coin and valuables, even to a
very large amount, are found among the crumbling
tombs and palaces, and the men being of good cha-
racter, the commanding officer acceded to their re-
quest, they obtained a fortnight’s leave of absence,
and departed, nobody knew or enquired whither. At
the expiration of their term of absence they returned
to their duty, but without having made the discovery
of which they had declared themselves so sanguine ;
yet having conducted themselves well, as far as was
known, during their period of leave, they found no
difficulty in renewing it shortly afterwards. On the
expiration of their liberty, however, they were this
time at fault; they did not rejoin the ranks, nor
were any tidings to be gained of them among their
comrades. Orders were issued for their apprehension,
as deserters, and parties searched the ruins in all
directions, yet no news could be gleaned of them by
any means : no one had seen or heard of them.

Some weeks after the disappearance of these men it
was reported among the natives that the saint whom
they were accustomed to worship at the Jaod Bhae
had become disturbed by some misconduct or sacri-
legious transgression of the people, for that in more
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than one instance, lately, strange noises, as of anger,
and of fiend-like laughter and mockery, had been
heard by the devotees within the chamber, so that
they became exceedingly terrified, and dared not to
venture there, except in company of the priests and
holy men.

One evening as a party of women, carrying upon
their heads large bundles of raw cotton, chanced to
pass the Jaod Bhae after dusk, a tall figure wrapt in
a black mantle suddenly appeared in the very midst
of them. The terror-stricken females for a second
were rooted to the spot, their breath suspended, their
eyes starting from the sockets, as they gazed upon
the cadaverous and earth-stained visage of their super-
natural visitor. Then with a simultaneous shriek
they dropped their bhojes and fled, with scared and
trembling steps, in all directions over the ruins. When,
— by devious routes over the wild and desolate plain,
their speed continually increased as each successive
heap of ruins became peopled with the ghastly
creatures of their affrighted fancies, — they at last
arrived at home, and told their piteous tale to their
husbands, the men were distressed at the loss of the
cotton, and were inclined to think that their timid
partners had been needlessly alarmed by suddenly
encountering some wandering fakhir among the
tombs : they therefore determined upon setting forth
in a body to the place, in order to bring home the

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

173

cotton ; yet not without a reverend Brahmin, who
would be able to protect them against ghostly evil,
and also a band of the city tcliokedars (watchmen)
to guard them against danger to their bodies. The
night having closed in with heavy clouds betokening
a storm, the party thought it advisable to carry
torches, lest in the unusual darkness of the night they
should be unable to discover the cotton, or to distin-
guish by their characteristic features the beings of the
three different worlds, should they meet with either.

They lit their torches therefore, and having armed
themselves with swords and weighty clubs of bamboo
shod with iron, they set forth upon their search in
silence, composing a party of about twenty. Scarcely
a word was spoken on the road, except by the
Brahmin, who alone preserved a face unmoved by the
fear of supernatural danger ; each appeared absorbed
in his own speculations, except when occasionally the
exclamation of one or more of their number called
the attention of the rest to a solitary pillar, or a dis-
membered stump of wood, assuming all the terrors
of ghostly animation in the fluctuating glare of the
ruddy torch-light. As they journeyed onward the
wind rose and moaned among the blackened walls and
towers of the tottering ruins; now and then a heavy
drop of rain fell hissing upon the flaring torches,
and the inky clouds appeared to gather from all
quarters of the heavens ; but the natives of India

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THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

are for the most part wonderfully indifferent, to storm
and tempest, and at first scarcely a remark was made
upon the subject. Ere long, however, it became
apparent that no ordinary storm was pending, for, as
it often happens before very terrible hurricanes in
the East, the fitful sighing of the breeze was suddenly
lulled, and was succeeded by a sultry calm, — the
leaden clouds dropped nearer to the earth, and
seemed to compress the sluggish atmosphere with their
superincumbent weight, until it became almost too
dense for respiration. The threatening aspect of
nature alarmed all living things around ; the yelling
jackall and the screaming night-birds vied with one
another in raising an ominous discord, which not the
calmest stoic could listen to without forebodings of
evil, and which even the wandering cattle and skulk-
ing paria dogs understood as warnings, and forthwith
betook themselves to the covered tombs.

The party in search of the cotton had arrived
within a short distance of the Jaod Bliae, when a crim-
son flash of almost blinding light was suddenly darted
from the impending clouds, and appeared to be the
signal for the war of elements to commence, for,
with the crashing peal of thunder which imme-
diately followed it, there burst upon them a gust of
wind so violent that not only were their torches ex-
tinguished in a second, but themselves were well nigh
carried away, so that they all threw themselves upon
the earth to avoid the danger; and in the next instant.

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

175

torrents of sulphurous rain gushed from the broken
clouds. A pitchy darkness enveloped them, and the
Brahmin wisely counselled that, when the light
nings again revealed the scene, they should look out
in all directions for some building, in which they
might shelter themselves, until the violence of the
hurricane had abated. At that very instant, a flash,
if possible more vivid than the former, shot in zig-
zag courses from the zenith to every point of the ho-
rizon, and continued for several seconds playing with
fearful brilliancy over the whole country round. Not
twenty yards in front of them stood the frowning form
of the Jaod Bhae ; between themselves and the build’
ing was plainly revealed to every man among them
the figure of a being precisely such as had been de-
scribed by the affrighted women, and, upon its head, it
carried one of the identical bhojes of cotton. “ Thieves !
thieves ! ” “ Choar-log ! choar! ” roared the tchokedars,
as, sword in hand, they started to their feet, and
rushed upon the figure ; but, for a second, impene-
trable darkness had again surrounded them, and
though, with the velocity of thought, the flashes were
renewed, the man, or spirit, whichever it might he,
and the bale of cotton, had vanished, though he
seemed almost within the grasp of their extended
hands. No cover was there at that spot where he
could lie concealed, even if there had been time to
have fled a pace or two : the space was open, and
though strewed with fallen masonry and heaps of

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stones, and here and there overrun with weeds and
dwarf shrubs, there was no sort of escape for flesh
and blood. No chink or cranny, no trace of foot-
steps, no vestige of the cotton, no clue to the mystery
could they discover ; and while they were occupied
upon the fruitless search, unwelcome thoughts were
suggested to their minds, and the trembling knees of
several refused to support their bodies ; so they fell to
the earth, and prayed for dawai, mercy, to the saint
of the awful Jaod Bhae ; until the Brahmin, by a
strenuous effort, having regained possession of a
portion of his wits, arose, and with a less boisterous
devotion than that of some around him, pronounced,
or endeavoured so to do, a saving verse from the
Shastra , and then somewhat more articulately de-
siring them to follow him, without farther ceremony,
he led the way back to the city.

By virtue of the spell which the holy man had thus
used to preserve them from destruction, they arrived
safely at home, and having assembled a tolerably nume-
rous party around the fire which burnt upon the floor,
in the centre of the guard-room in the city gate, the
reverend priest, with a calm unshaken voice, related the
awful upshot of their excursion, and being unwilling
to declare himself to the people, as to his knowledge
concerning the things which they had witnessed, with-
out first consulting his brother Brahmins, he retired to
his temple, and there, in conclave with those holy men,
repeated all, and required their opinions. Whatever

EUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

177

might have been the result of their deliberations, we
should not endeavour to pry into the mysterious
workings of that sacred assembly ; suffice it that the
issue be made known. After the morning prayers and
ablutions on the Jumna bank, the grave priests sum-
moned the expectant crowds to hear what they had
to say, and after confessing that the night had been
spent in prayer and ceremony, they also admitted that
they had been unable to divine the exact nature of
the saint’s inquietude, but that they had been favored
with his commands to attend at the Jaod Bhae at
noon-day, and perforin certain mystic ceremonies,
when it was more than probable that they should
hear his farther pleasure.

Carrying with them holy fire and Ganges’ sacred
water, the priests, attended by a vast concourse of
people, arrived at the Jaod Bhae shortly before
noon ; having made every necessary preparation they
retired within the building precisely at the appoint-
ed hour, and carefully closing the entrances with
mats provided for that purpose, they remained in
consultation with the saint until sun-set ; during the
whole of which time thick clouds of smoke issued
from the Jaod Bhae, and at intervals the most un-
earthly noises were heard, accompanied with cries,
screams, and piteous groans, which caused the
terrified people to fall upon their faces in an agony
of fear and trembling.

As the sun first touched the horizon, the smoke

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ceased to ascend, and then the venerable priests with
hair dishevelled, with wild and harassed looks, appeared
before the multitude. “ Children,” cried the chief of
them, with triumph beaming in his aged countenance ;
“ My Children, by extraordinary exertions, by means
of potent charms and obscure rites which we have
received from the gods themselves, by fearful penance,
and the most painful self-inflictions, we have at last com-
pelled the unwilling spirit to make known to us the cause
of his terrible perturbation ; hut this we are unable to
reveal ; and all that it concerns you to know is, how to
appease the wrath of the offended saint, and gain for
yourselves the favour of his protection and support. Let
every man who is anxious to obtain this advantage to his
soul, and a similar advancement in his worldly welfare,
on the evening of each successive new moon advance
boldly to the entrance of the Jaod Bhae, and cast
within the chamber a piece of pure silver coin, no mat-
ter how small ; and this his offering to the saint will
be repaid to him by the gods a thousand-fold. Our
blessing too upon those who give heed to our words,
but dire curses will assuredly overtake those who
shall dare to defy his revealed commands.”

These mysterious occurrences created uneasy fears
in the hearts of the former worshippers of the saint,
which were strengthened by the strange tales of noises
and apparitions from time to time encountered
in the neighbourhood of the Jaod Bhae; so that the
place was altogether avoided by the people, except

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

179

when they went monthly to make their offerings, and
then it was with becoming dread and reverence.

Now the Jaod Bhae stood very near the annual
encampment and practice-ground of the Artillery ; and
it so happened, that upon the occasion of a review and
general inspection, the Jaod Bhae attracted the irreli-
gious notice of a certain Artillery officer, who, through
a culpable love of mischief, an inordinate delight in
the display of the force of powder, and a very iniqui-
tous process of reasoning, came to the conclusion that
it would have an unusually grand effect to mine and
blow up the Jaod Bhae, rather than to perform the
simple operation of igniting some fifty or sixty barrels
of powder under the level earth. The idea was sugges-
ted to the commanding officer, who, by a like evil
influence, came to a similarly wicked opinion, and it
was agreed that the mining of the Jaod Bhae would
indeed form a glorious spectacle at the review. Orders
were therefore immediately issued for a shaft to be
sunk below the foundation, and a mine of five-and-
forty barrels of powder to be prepared under its very
centre, so that the whole building might be blown into
the skies.

The task proved to be one of greater difficulty than
was anticipated, for beneath the soil was discovered a
vaulted mass of solid masonry, which proved to be no
less than four or five feet in thickness, and so firmly con-
structed that not a single stone could be moved entire,
but the shaft was literally carved through it. At the

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point where the miners penetrated, they found a nar-
row passage running east and west, just large enough
to admit a man of moderate size. It was unencum-
bered and in complete repair, and on being explored
was found to communicate with other galleries of the
same description leading in a transverse direction, and
each was found to open into a small apartment under
the body of the building. In the centre room was
found a rough sort of round table with a couple of
settles, and on either side a tolerably comfortable bed
of raw cotton, an old straw hat, a clasp knife, a
small German pipe, an iron ladle, in which metal had
been melted, a few small files and other tools, such as
are used in coining, and a little bag containing some
unfinished imitations of rupees. Some few trifles of
the same description were also discovered in different
corners and recesses of the vault, and also a supply of
tobacco and spirits.

There was no hesitation in at once attaching suspicion
of very recent occupancy of these snug quarters to the
two men of the European Regiment who had deserted;
and deeming it probable that they might make their
appearance to clear away all vestiges of their illicit
trade, as soon as they should hear of the mining oper-
ations which were going forward, the officer gave or-
ders for a guard to be secreted in the building, to keep
watch during the night.

It so happened, I suppose by a private arrange-
ment of the saint, that this very night was that of the

FUTTEHPORE SIKRI.

181

new moon, and the dusk of evening had scarcely
fallen, when the Jaod Bhae was visited by the first
devout observer of the Brahmin’s commands; and,
having cast, with a hasty hand, his piece of silver, a
four-anna-piece, within the doorway, he turned and
beat a somewhat precipitate retreat. But the serjeant
of the ambuscade having picked up the coin, naturally
concluded that the donor must be a confederate of the
coiners, and without turning out his men, he immedi-
ately stole after the retiring Hindoo, and seized him ;
stopping his mouth with his hand, to prevent alarm.
He then conveyed him to the vault beneath the Jaod
Bhae; the poor wretch, without doubt, being per-
suaded all the time that he was about to be sacrificed
to the offended saint. The serjeant in his turn, when
he came to examine the man, mistook him for an
accomplished villain, who, like all natives, had an
ingenious excuse at his tongue’s end, ready for any
emergency ; he therefore gagged him, and binding
him hand and foot, left him upon his back in the
coiner’s chamber ; and thus one after another, he con-
tinued to seize no less than a dozen of these poor
innocent people, including some few women ; until at
last they arrived in such numbers, that he was unwil-
ling to take charge of any more, and began to give
some credence to the story which each told, and was
ready to swear to. So he contented himself with
those whom he had already taken, and continued his
watch throughout the night, without meeting those

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for whose capture he was set. But about an hour or
two before daylight, he made a prize of another,
whom he had already expected. Having sent his men
below, he remained himself upon the look out, and at
the time just mentioned, he saw a tall white figure
approaching, who no sooner entered the building than
he drew from his mantle a small lamp, which he
forthwith lighted, and carefully gathered up every
fraction of the silver from the floor. When he had
completed his task, and was about to depart, the Ser-
jeant stepped forth from his hiding place, and took
him also prisoner. Then carrying him below, he
confronted him with his dupes, and exposed him to
them.

In the morning, he was taken before the officer,
with the rest of the captives, and after a strict exami-
nation, during which he adhered to the most bare -
faced untruths, and endeavoured, by all sorts of inven-
tions, to deceive his hearers, he, at last, by dint of
threats, and promises of security, was induced to con-
fess the impositions which his colleagues had practised
upon the multitude, when they pretended to consult
with the saint, and their utter ignorance of any true
system of magic.

183

GOKUL.

Upon the east bank of the river Jumna, about fifteen
miles below the city and cantonment of Muttra, stands
a small town named Gokul, esteemed peculiarly
sacred among the pious Hindoos, in consequence of
its having been a favorite resort of the god Krishna
while he was on earth. Krishna was born at Bin-
drabund, which is about as far above Muttra as
Gokul is below it ; and these three places were fortu-
nate enough to enjoy the presence of the god during
the greater part of his sojourn among men, which
occurred about 1300 years before Christ. Here the
solemn Brahmin points out a spot where the deity
played a tune upon his flute which gave life to the
stones and trees around him;* here he shows the
worn and polished root of a tree where the god was
wont to seat himself while singing songs of love to
the wood-nymphs and the milk-maids ; here a patch

* Krishna is the Apollo of the Hindoos.

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of ground which has remained barren ever since
Krishna, while standing there, had cause for anger ;
there a smooth rock upon the river bank where he
was in the habit of washing his dhoti , and there a
hill upon which he was accustomed to receive and
cure all who were afflicted by disease or mental
suffering. These were the more playful acts of
Krishna, for Gokul was the resort of his leisure
hours; it was in Bindrabund and Muttra that his
more terrible deeds were executed, such as the de-
struction of the vile serpent of evil, Kali Nagur,
which had thrown itself in coils across the river
Jumna and stopped the course of the waters, so that
those who were not killed through thirst died of the
poisonous impurity of the stream, and many other
equally redoubtable acts which are the theme of song
and fable in all these parts. There are in particular
two spots of broken ground which are pointed out to
the inquisitive visitor as of very especial interest,
having been formerly the site of two trees, the
Jemla and the Arjia, concerning which the following

LEGEND

is related with great reverence, as recording one of
the earliest of Krishna’s god-like acts, while he was
yet but the infant son of a cow-herd.

Some few hundreds of years before Krishna was
born, a farmer of considerable wealth had two re-
markably handsome sons, by name Neeld and Kho*

GOKUL.

185

veri, who sadly neglected the management of the
land and of the herds and flocks, in consequence of
their attention being constantly attracted by the
very beautiful women who inhabited this part of the
country. The father having tried chastisement re-
peatedly and in vain, complained of his misfortune
to the principal Brahmin of the place, a very ve-
nerable and wise man, named Nared ; and this holy
person undertook to reprove them for their want of duty
and to punish them if they heeded him not. Having
formed this resolution, Nared accompanied the farmer
to the fields to seek for his sons, and found them
reclining upon a flowery bank by the side of the Jumna,
each extolling the perfections of the beauty who had
gained the ascendant in his affections. The re-
verend Brahmin hesitated not to remonstrate angrily
with them concerning their idleness, and endeavoured
to impress upon them that being already betrothed to
damsels whom they had not seen, they were guilty
of great imprudence in suffering their affections to
be enslaved by girls who were so greatly their in-
feriors in degree, and whose beauty was beheld by
every passer by, since it is the custom of the lower
orders to walk unveiled. The reprobate youths, in-
stead of receiving with respect and submission the
reproof of the holy man, laughed aloud at this lecture,
and bid him go preach to the cows; at which
indignity the Brahmin became so justly incensed
that he hesitated not to inflict upon them such a
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punishment as he thought they merited. Dipping
his fingers in the lota (small brass pot) in which he
carried some holy Ganges water, he sprinkled the
youths therewith, and uttering a curse, exclaimed,
“ In the name of Brahma I command thee to quit
thy forms as young men and become trees.” On
that very instant the youths became the one a jemla,
the other an arjia tree. Then the devout Brahmin
taking some of the Ganges water in his mouth
spirted it upon the trunks of the trees saying, “ Thus
be thou firm and unmoved, until, by Brahma’s per-
mission, thou shall kiss the feet of the holy child
Krishna.” And during some hundreds of years the
trees remained unmoved.

Krishna having been born, had arrived at the age
of three years, when one day he was clinging to his
mother’s neck while she was occupied in turning some
cream into butter; and while her hands were thus
employed, it happened that a pot of milk, which was
upon the fire, boiled over, whereupon the mother
hastily put down Krishna, and ran to take off the
pot. The young god was mortified at this action,
which indisputably proved that his mother loved the
milk better than himself; and thus thinking, in the
anger of the moment, he kicked over the pot of milk,
upset the pan of cream, and ran away, his mother
pursuing him, till she was quite weary. Then the
sweet boy, having repented of his momentary display
of temper, ran into his mother’s arms, and begged

GOKUL.

187

her forgiveness; but his mother being wroth, regarded
not his contrition, but carried him into the village,
and having procured some string, endeavoured to bind
him to two trees, which stood by the river side ; but
Krishna being still full of sport, showed her that all
the cord which she could obtain from the rope-makers
was not long enough to bind him, until he was pleased
to permit it. Then, being inclined to liberate himself
after his mother had departed, he planted his foot
firmly against the ground, and, with god-like strength,
tore up the trees by the roots. Now, at this time
there were great numbers of children playing around
and making sport of the chastised Krishna, but im-
mediately upon the miraculous fall of those trees,
they became greatly alarmed, and the more so, when,
as the earth trembled, the prostrate trees were in a
moment transformed into two very beautiful youths,
who laid their heads in the dust in token of reve-
rence, and then kissing the feet of the young god,
suddenly vanished. This report of the children was
not however at that time believed by the ignorant men
of Gokul, who thought of the fall of those trees only
as a miraculous escape of the boy from being crushed,
and Krishna himself was too nobly modest to boast
of his performance.

Gokul, though so peculiarly sanctified a spot, and
in truth a remarkably picturesque one, has no sort of
importance in wealth, or commerce, or extent of ha-
bitations ; there are however a great number of

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Hindoo temples, and not a few very handsome ghats,
such as may be seen in the annexed plate. The
Brahmins appeared to me to be more than usually civil
and ready to give information, and I experienced no dif-
ficulty in gaining access to the interiors of the principal
temples, an indulgence which is not always allowed.
There was very little however to gratify the curiosity
in any of them, and like most other Hindoo towns,
although particularly attractive to behold at a dis-
tance, there was a squalid misery and a want of clean-
liness about the place, which induces the visitor to
make his visit as short as possible. The sketch was
taken from the parapet of one of the ghats , while
the sun was declining towards the west : the scene
as I beheld it was bathed in a flood of light, yet not
wanting in a few points of powerful shadow, which
gawe an effect to the picture, which is the continual
delight of the artist in India when evening is ad-
vancing. I am sure the good taste of my readers
will render it unnecessary that I should pay any com-
pliment to the artist, who has so admirably transcribed
my sketch. The power of daylight which he has
thrown into the scene is but a specimen of the pe-
culiar beauty of his style. Hitherto I have spoken
only of the mythological history of Gokul ;

“ Whilst in charm’d Gokul’s od’rous vale
The blue eyed Yamuna* descends

* Yamuna— the Jumna. Sir W. Jones’s translation of the Sanskrit.

GOKUL.

189

Exulting, and her tripping tide suspends.

The triumph of her mighty sire to hail

but it has likewise become memorable as the scene of
an action in which the celebrated Begum Sumroo exhi-
bited her spirit and her personal prowess, as the victo-
rious leader of her own troops, at a moment so critical
that, without her timely interposition and personal
example, the indecision of the Emperor Shah Aulum
would have terminated in the defeat and disgrace of
his army.

Neujif Kahn, having acted in open defiance of the
Emperor’s authority, threw his little army of veterans
into the fort of Gokul to avoid or resist the resentment
of his prince. He was called upon to surrender, but
peremptorily refused to do so, and made active prepa-
rations for his defence. Around the little fort the re-
bel threw up strong entrenchments sufficient for the
protection of his whole force, and having by every
means in his power fortified his position, he coolly
awaited the advance of the royal army, which was very
greatly superior in numerical strength to his own.
Neujif Kahn had often proved himself a soldier of
great coolness and vigilance, and diis men reposed the
the fullest confidence in his skill and courage : they
repulsed with astonishing vigour the attack of the royal
army and made considerable havoc among them.

Having been engaged in the lines all day, Neujif
Kahn permitted his men an hour or two of repose in

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the early part of the night, but at midnight he
quietly summoned every man to his post, and putting
himself at the head of a chosen body of cavalry, he
stole unheard and unseen from his entrenchments, and
fell with great fury upon the enemy’s troops while
they were buried in sleep. Having on the first onset
carried the lines, he commenced a cruel slaughter of
the panic-stricken troops ; and having despatched a
detachment of infantry and artillery to the rear of the
lines hv a circuitous route, the royal tents were attacked
at the same moment.

The confusion was becoming general, and the
troops would have fled in all directions, but appeared,
in the disorder, to meet their foes on all sides. The
person of the Emperor was in imminent peril from
the fire which was kept up upon the royal tents,
and a complete overthrow would have been the speedy
result, had not the Begum Sumroo, acting in the
spirit of the oriental maxim, “ Fear when danger
is distant, when present fight like heroes,” with unex-
ampled address and courage, made a strenuous effort
* to rally the royal troops. In order to render their
mutual positions intelligible, she with great presence
of mind set fire to a number of tents and other com-
bustible matter, and then putting herself at the head
of her troops, despatched a messenger to the Emperor
begging him to repair to her tents which were out
of reach of the enemy’s battery, while she with one
hundred followers, and a single six pounder, which

GOKUL.

191

was commanded by George Thomas, afterwards a
general in the service, attacked the rebels with such
determination and so much judgment that with this
small force she speedily drove them from the lines
and restored order to the dispersed troops of the
Emperor. The contest was continued with desperate
determination on both sides for some time, and great
numbers fell, among whom were several distinguished
officers; but the gallant and judicious conduct of the
Begum compelled the rebels to retire within their
works. Thus was the royal army, and also the life
of the Emperor, saved by the intrepidity and skill of
a woman.*

* I have recently given a sketch of the history of this extraordinary
lady in the work before mentioned— “ First Impressions,” &c., but this
passage has not been introduced, or I should not have given it a place
in these pages.

192

HURDWAR.

TEMPLES OF MAHADEO THE GHAT.

Following the sinuous course of the Ganges about
fifteen hundred miles from its many mouths, the
traveller will arrive at the boundaries of a country
far famed for its romantic beauties and its delightful
climate ; the valley of Dehra Dhoon. It is guarded
on the south by the rugged mountains of the Sivalic
range, and on the north it is shut out from the rest
of the world by the sacred pinnacles of the cloud -
piercing Himalas; through its unmeasured forests
and varied undulations flow the holy streams of the
Jumna and the Ganges, and every here and there
the soft repose of the scene is relieved by pretty villa-
ges dotted along the river hank, or sparkling out from
the shady foot of some tower-crowned hill. It forms
precisely that style of scenery which the natives (sen-
sible of its charms and delighting to enhance them)
select for the resort of nymphs and deities. It is com-

HURDWAR.

193

inonly said that the Hindoos are indifferent to the
fascinations of the picturesque, but in truth it is far
otherwise. Without erudition and refinement there
is seldom any very quick susceptibility of the charming
and the grand in nature, and therefore it would
be absurd to look for the same degree of admiration
in the untaught savage as is exhibited by the educated
of our countrymen ; at the same time they have
perhaps more than is possessed by the lower orders
of the Europeans ; and among the high-born and
cultivated Hindoos I have witnessed the most ex-
pressive rapture at the sight of sublime or of homely-
beautiful scenery. Their writings abound with
descriptions of landscape ; the following quotation
will give evidence of their taste. It is from the
Bushanda Bamaian.

“ In the far recesses of the scented valley of Dwa-
rak rises, in soft and delicate outline, the air-fraught
image of the azure mountain, like a celestial spirit
assuming the garb of visible substance. Lo ! how
the gods have crowned their favourite with a dazzling
circlet of gold and silver, sun and snow; and in a
rich mantle of crimson and green, studded with myriad
coloured gems, have altered its graceful forms. The
sacred peeple and byr drop glittering honey from their
pendent leaves, and the gathering rills have spread
themselves in a shining lake, like diamonds of exqui-
site brilliancy, that they may together delight them-
selves with sleepy pastime in the cool shadow. From

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the gushing wells a thousand quivering streams dash
down the variegated cliffs, formed and transformed into
ten thousand clustering globules of countless hues, like
Amrit’s luscious fruits, when shaken from the rolling-
car of Suria : thousands of eager birds warble forth
rapturous lays among the branches, which stretch to
bathe in the delicious waters.” Here the poet displays
at least a full appreciation of nature’s beauty, and
if there were no response in the minds of his readers
we should not so continually find his words in their
mouths.

I have transcribed the above passage not only to
corroborate my opinion, but also for the purpose of
rendering unnecessary any farther eulogiums upon
the charms of the spot to which I am desirous of
introducing the reader.

Just where the Ganges, struggling through the Si-
valic mountains, pours her stream upon the plains of
Hindostan, is situated the holy town of Hurdwar, a
place of unequalled sanctity among the Hindoos. To
its temples pilgrims resort from every corner of the
East where Hindooism is known; and of such excel-
lent virtue is the holy water at this particular spot,
that however impure, however sinful, or deeply dyed
with crime, a single ablution will purge from all ; pro-
vided only that sufficient gold be given to the gods.
This gold — no baser metal has sufficient virtue — must
be dropped in the river at the time of prayer, and the
Brahmins are the only people who have the privilege

HURD WAR.

195

of draining the sands to search for those few pieces
which the gods are pleased to leave them as a reward
for their services ; and when it is understood that at
the mela, or annual grand festival, the influx of pil-
grims is from three hundred thousand to a million of

o

souls, it will be credited that an extraordinary amount
of treasure is collected by these devotees.

Charity of this description is inculcated as the first
virtue. A gold mohur, so bestowed, will absolve from
the darkest crime as effectually as the severest course
of penance ; and a bestowal of such offerings will enable
a man to continue in the most diabolical practices with
impunity. In expiation of any deep offence, the
Brahmins sometimes receive a vow from a pilgrim,
binding him to give a certain boon to every Brahmin
who shall from time to time demand it of him. These
vows are doubtless sometimes made in the fulness of
remorse, and are sometimes very religiously observed ;
nay, always to the letter, though not always in the
spirit of the vow, the superstitions of the Hindoos pre-
venting their breaking such a solemn obligation, though
they are ever ready to adopt the most ingenious de-
vices for escaping the inconvenience of them. There
is, however, a notion impressed upon them by the
Brahmins, that if the gods do not openly punish such
evasions of their oaths, they fail not to circumvent the
fraudulent practice, or otherwise indemnify themselves
at the expense of the schemer. Numberless are the
instances they relate of this conduct on the part of the
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deities, who have been content to display their supe-
riority over mortal cunning by turning the devices of
their delinquent votaries to their own advantage. There
is one tale, the burden of a song familiar to all lovers
of Hindostanee music, which appears to me so pretty
and ingenious, that I think I shall be excused for in-
troducing it here.

THE BANIAS VOW.

Near the little village of Mohur-ki-chowki, in the
Sivalic range of mountains, beneath a sacred banian
tree, whose curved and twining branches, descending
to the earth, had taken root and overspread a very large
space of ground, there dwelt an aged bania (a dealer
in grain), who had an only son, of great personal
beauty, the heir to his estate and to his entire wealth,
which was reputed to be very great, being the produce
of a life of diligence, good husbandry, and good fortune.
This opulent man delighted in charity, and was be-
loved by all his neighbours, and had no cause for care
or sorrow except in one respect. In the fulness of his
love for his child it was evident that he had been over-
indulgent, and he became sensible that the youth, whom
he had desired to see prudent in all things, and espe-
cially in respect of his property, was reckless and pro-
digal, fond of display, and a gambler. Now the
afflicted parent, with all his wealth about him, had
little regarded these failings in his darling child, until

HURD WAR.

197

he found his own strength declining, and the enfeebling
linger of disease warned him that very speedily his
improvident son would be deprived of his guidance and
protection. Then came serious thoughts and dismal
apprehensions, as he found that his most grave injunc-
tions failed to move the lad to an appreciation of his
wise sayings, and that his oft-repeated prayers and
tearful warnings were equally unavailing. He could
not but anticipate that in a few short years after his
death his accumulated wealth would be completely
squandered, his treasures scattered to the winds, his
broad lands, acquired with a whole life’s thrift, a prey
to remorseless creditors ; his child, a ruined debauchee,
an outcast, a squalid mendicant.

Finding all his advice utterly without effect upon
the hardened youth, the now dying father bethought
him how in a measure he might place a restraint upon
his prodigal propensities, and having after much
deliberation framed the following expedient, he sur-
rounded his couch with Brahmins, and then calling
his son, he thus addressed him. “ Oh Purwatti, thou
art the anguish of thy aged father’s soul ; thou, whose
welfare is far more precious to me than the gain of my
whole life, art become the destroyer of my peace.
Yet, wilt thou listen to my last words, and remember
them P Know then, my son, that fortune stands firm
when she has planted her feet, the one upon honesty,
the other on prudence; but he who shall withdraw
these her supports shall himself be crushed by her
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fall. As fire will never be satisfied with wood, neither
the ocean with rivers, nor death with his victims, so
the wrealth of Maia will not he sufficient for thy
spendthrift madness. All that is mine is thine, but
be thou certain that if I left thee in possession of all
the treasures of this world, that which thou shalt ex-
pend in benevolence shall alone profit thee. And now
lest by evil guidance thou shouldst be cast away, it is
thus I make thee my heir. All that is mine is thine ;
but of thy treasure give daily to the Brahmins one
tenth part of the sum which thou hast spent the
previous day ; rise daily to perform this duty ere the
sun be up, and in the day that thou shalt fail thereof,
know that the all-powerful Siva has declared by the
mouths of these wise men, at the moment of sunrise
on that evil day shall thy beauty wither upon thy
bones. And that my will may be duly observed, I
hereby invest these holy priests with parental au-
thority over thee. If in seeking to avoid their
authority thou shouldst resign the humble calling of
thy father, or build thee a dwelling greater than this
humble cottage, or quit the shadow of this sacred tree,
my dying curse go with thee. This is necessary for
thy peace, oh Purwatti ! for although by the slow fall
of water-drops the pot is at length filled, by the fall of
the vessel is the water spilled in a second.” Having
delivered himself of these inspired words, the aged
bania was earned to the Ganges and expired.

Then, when the spirit had departed, the holy

HURDWAR.

199

Brahmins turned to the young man, and with one
voice exclaimed, “ Is it not written in the Dhurma
Shastra, ‘ Gain all thou canst, and that thou gainest
keep, that which thou keepest increase, and that thou
increasest bestow in holy sacrifice : so long shalt thou
prosper.’ And again ; f As the vain and ridiculous see
not their own folly in bedecking their feet with gems
while their heads are adorned with glass, so is that
man blindly contemptible who is content to sport with
his riches while he has no love for charity. On the
shoulder of such a man sits ruin.’” And with these
appropriate words the Brahmins retired.

Purwatti having succeeded to his father’s wealth,
neglected not to rise daily before the sun as he had
been commanded, and with great exactness he con-
tinued to dispense to the priests sl tithe of what he had
spent the day before ; until after many months, having-
become enamoured of a very lovely woman whom he
had observed tending cows, he abandoned himself to
the enchantment of her beauty, and neglecting the
young wife to whom he had been betrothed before his
father’s death, he lavished immense sums of money
upon his new enslaver, so that daily he was compelled
to distribute more and more to the Brahmins. This,
however, very speedily dissipated all his cash, and
finding that his duty to the priest deprived him of
much which he wished to bestow upon his favorite,
he eluded the obligation, saying that what he gave
away as a present could not be said to have been

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spent ; and thus the Brahmins became suddenly de-
prived of their largesses.

Years passed away, and Purwatti continued to ob-
serve the letter of his fathers injunctions, for he was
fearful of being in an unwary moment stripped of that
manly beauty and vigour in which he so greatly
gloried ; yet having so long practised an evasion with
impunity, he was at last led into a more fatal error.
He had become the father of a most lovely child, a
daughter, whose surpassing beauty had gained for her
the name of Vanadosini, signifying delight of the
sacred grove. So resplendent was her face, so per-
fectly charming was her form, so unrivalled in grace
her every movement, so soft, so kind her words, that
every man whom fortune permitted to behold her
became, from that very moment, like a silken flag
borne along upon a staff against the wind ; for in
whatever course his destiny carried him, still were his
thoughts perpetually blown back in one never-varying
direction by the constant current of his love and ad-
miration. Beautiful as a celestial nymph, it was not
easy to believe her only mortal ; her delicate figure
was less than the least of women who are not dwarfs ;
her fairy form, agile as that of the antelope, seemed
borne up from the sordid earth by her elastic step ;
none could behold her without paying instant ho-
mage.

Purwatti doted upon his lovely child, and for her
sake grew daily more and more careful of his wealth,

HURDWAR.

201

so that since the time when he had wooed her mother,
he had restrained himself from all absurd extrava-
gance. But it is seldom among the gifts of imperfect
mortals to avoid one extreme without falling into the
other ; if we quit the open road of folly, we are in
danger of selecting the bye path across the morass of
insidious evil. As Purwatti had been contemptibly
prodigal before, so did he now become meanly avari-
cious and uncharitable ; and this failing induced him
to study all sorts of deceitful inventions, by which he
might defraud the Brahmins of their tithes.

One day a pearl -merchant from Manaar, in the
island of Ceylon, having arrived with ornaments of
great lustre and value, entered the bania's shop to
purchase some rice, and beholding the beautiful face of
Vanadosini, he became desirous of conversing with so
charming a person ; he immediately offered to exhibit
his costly wares, saying, with the ill grace of one from
an uncivilized country, that although the daughter of
a bania could not be expected to purchase gems of
such inestimable price, reserved for the wealthy, still
she might be permitted to admire them ; and forthwith
he laid out before her the richest contents of his jewel
case. Now although Vanadosini, whom every one
flattered and extolled as far superior to all earthly
princesses, was vexed with the rude speech of the
merchant, she became absorbed in astonishment at his
magnificent treasures, and continued in praise and
admiration of each successive ornament which he dis-

202

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played, until she began to wonder what manner of
man could he possessed of such immense riches, and
yet have learnt so little gallantry among his courtly
customers. Upon that thought she turned her eyes
upon the countenance of the merchant, whom, hitherto,
her modesty had prevented her from regarding. At
that moment both were smitten with the shaft of love.
Never before had Vanadosini beheld so handsome and
so graceful a youth.

But the moment after love had entered the soul of
the beautiful girl, that uncourtly speech of the mer-
chant, which had for a moment only touched her
vanity, now wounded her pride, and with hitter mor-
tification she feigned anger at the earnest gaze of the
stranger. At the same moment she determined to
abash him by assuming to herself the importance
which she enjoyed among all who were acquainted
with her father’s wealth.

“ Sir merchant,” said she with a haughty air of
superiority before unknown to her, “ Sir merchant,
which call you the most costly of these glittering
trinkets ?”

The merchant, immediately selecting a superb
chaplet of exquisite workmanship and most tasteful
design, representing an intertwisted wreath of jessa-
mine and orange flowers, wrought with the most
splendid pearls of Kondatchi, answered, “ This, fair
lady, is the most precious. Its price would purchase
this whole village, and make slaves of all the inhabi-

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203

tants of the adjacent lands. A lakh of rupees* would
scarcely be its worth.”

11 ‘ Then,” said Vanadosini, “ put that aside forme, I
will call my father to pay you for it.” A laugh hurst
from the lips of the unpolished stranger, hut the in-
dignant girl stopped not to listen to his words. She
hastened to the bamboo grove, where her father was
reclining in the shade, smoking his hooka, and throw-
ing herself into his arms, she employed all that win-
ning grace of soft entreaty which she had so often
known to be irresistible ; but finding more difficulty
than she had anticipated, she related to her fond parent
the manner in which she had been induced to pur-
chase the chaplet without his previous sanction.
Purwatti gently chid her for suffering the words of a
stranger to move her, and then, rising, bid her return
to the shop, while he called his banker to disburse the
amount to the merchant. Vanadosini, twining her
lambent arms round her father’s neck, bestowed upon
him a kiss of fond affection and gratitude, which he
told her fully repaid him the price of the chaplet. As
she retraced her steps to the cottage with exulting
heart, she could not help lamenting that the merchant
had not learnt manners as well as her father. With
affected coolness and admiration — it was the first time
she had ever affected what she did not feel — she told
the merchant to seat himself, her father would bring
him the price of the trinket immediately. She could

* Ten thousand pounds.

204

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

not help remarking the unfeigned surprise of the mer-
chant, which delighted her child-like heart. The
pearl-merchant did not sit silent, hut so well did he
employ the time until Purwatti arrived with the money,
that Vanadosini could not but confess within herself
that he could talk quite as prettily as her father, and
when any thing escaped him which betokened untaught
manners, she could not but attribute it to the natural
frankness and honest independence of his nature.

Although the pearl-merchant was greatly surprised
at the readiness with which the bargain had been made
and the immediate promise of payment, he could
scarcely believe that a grain merchant living in so
humble a cottage could possess wealth sufficient for
the purchase of the chaplet, and he therefore expected
that the bania would make some excuse for declin-
ing the bargain, when he should see its exceeding-
costliness and learn its price. What then was his sur-
prise, when, in a short time, the bania and the banker
arrived at the door, driving yoked oxen, with the full
amount of his demand. His attendance was desired
to see the money counted, and he could not but wonder
that no attempt was made to abate the amount of his
demand, or even the chaplet examined to ascertain
its real value. Now it happened that the pearl-
merchant, unlike most of his trade, was a truly honest
and conscientious man, having these, rare good qualities
in addition to many other excellent endowments.
In mentioning the price of a lakh of rupees for the

HURDWAR.

205

chaplet he had spoken at random, without considering
the exact demand he ought to make ; for he little
thought that Vanadosini was able to buy so valuable
an ornament: and having cast these things in his
mind, while the lahk of rupees was being counted,
he turned to the bania and requested that he would
satisfy himself as to the real worth of the trinket : but
the bania replied that he purchased not the bauble
for its worth sake but because his child had desired
it, and at the same time he expressed confidence in
the fair dealing of the merchant. Then when the
money had been told, the merchant desired that
seventy thousand rupees only might be made over
to him, as that was the precise value of the chaplet,
explaining how he had inconsiderately named a larger
sum. This candid and generous hehaviour of one
from whom they so little expected it, whose fellow-
dealers are notoriously dishonest, won the admiration
and friendship of Purwatti and Bikhari, the banker,
who was a man of considerable wealth and influence ;
and they, expressing these sentiments with much
warmth, begged that he would tarry with them a few
days, since they were desirous of improving their ac-
quaintance with so excellent a man. They found
little persuasion necessary for their purpose as far as
it was in his power to comply, but at the same time,
he declared his inability to remain beyond the dawn
of the next day, since he had a long journey to perform
in a very short time ; he gladly accepted their hos-

T

206

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

pitality for that day, for his heart beat tumultuously
when he thought of departing from the mango grove.
During the short time the pearl-merchant remained
with them he gained more and more upon their
esteem, until when night grew on apace and free
communion had opened their hearts, while the fragrant
hooka had cheered their spirits, the pearl-merchant,
turning abruptly upon his host, exclaimed, “ 0, Pur-
watti bania, excuse the liberty of my speech, but I
pray you inform me is that most beautiful daughter
of yours betrothed ?” “ No,” replied the bania shortly,
‘f wherefore should a stranger seek to know aught of
his host’s family affairs ?”

“ Wherefore ! It is because the super-human grace
and beauty of the fawn-eyed Vanadosini have trans-
fixed me as with a shaft, and have rent my heart
with the fretful wound of desperate love. O Bania,
be not incensed at my rash disclosure, but why
should my passion consume me, and I remain aloof
from the only chance of aid P I offend thee ; but
bear with my unseemly precipitance, and hear what
I have to say. If I he wanting in honour or re-
spect, abhor me ; if I be found worthy, forbear thy
displeasure. Twelve virtues are needful for the man
who shall be accounted a fit husband for your lovely
daughter : he must be pure, faithful, honest, comely,
prosperous, mild, diligent, patient, generous, good-
tempered, full of confidence, and devoted; and I
pray thee deem it not an immodest assurance of

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207

my own worth, that I say, if I can prove myself
possessed of each of these good qualities, receive me
for thy son. I have considerable riches, and am of thy
own caste. Wherefore should I not speak openly ? ”

The bania arose, and warmly embraced the pearl-
merchant. “ If,” said he, “ you can make all these
virtues your own within twelve months, Vanadosini
shall he yours also, and an ample dower shall go
with her.” With much cordiality, the new friends
separated ; and the next morning, long before day-
break, the pearl-merchant had departed on his way.

Throughout the night, Purwatti’s repose was greatly
disturbed with anxious speculations concerning his
beloved child’s future life, and though he entertained
the highest admiration of the pearl-merchant, he
could not but regard with caution so great a stranger.
If, thought he, this man can render himself worthy of
her love, he shall marry her; and upon this thought he
began to calculate what sum of money he should be able
to lavish upon her; then covetousness taking possession
of him, led him to regret all that he must bestow
here or there, without being able to add it to the
heap of treasure with which he should present her.
Then he remembered the seven thousand rupees which
he was bounden to pay to the Brahmins before sun-
rise on the morrow, as the tenth part of the amount
he had expended upon the chaplet ; but the demon
of avarice took power over his heart, and he, having
long endeavoured, without success, to frame some
t 2

208

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

available mode of escaping the payment, at last —
fortune having averted her face — determined boldly
to disregard the fulfilment of his father’s injunction,
believing that he had so long practised deception,
that open neglect would now remain unnoticed.
Having comforted his mind with this reflection, he
fell asleep, and did not awake until nearly sun-rise,
when, turning upon his pillow, he again endeavoured
to woo oblivion ; but the misgivings of a not-quite-
hardened conscience suffered him not to rest, and
made him hesitate whether he would not still rise
and discharge his dues to the Brahmins. While
his mind still hovered between duty and inclination,
a brilliant burst of sun-light shot into the room;
and Vanadosini entering, no sooner beheld her father’s
countenance, than, with an agonized scream, she
sunk senseless upon the floor of the room.

Then the amazed father was suddenly overcome with
terror, for his conscience forewarned him of evil, though
he knew not what had befallen him. He hastily
rose, and with tender solicitude hurried to his daugh-
ter’s assistance ; but when he stretched out his arms
to raise her, he was stricken aghast with horror on be-
holding the shrunken deformity of his own limbs as
they remained extended. Trembling and faint, un-
manned by his sudden conviction of the dire calamity
which had overtaken him, now shocked and dismayed
at his unholy defiance of his dying father’s most solemn
charge, he cast himself beside his child, and remained

HURD WAR.

209

for a long time in a paroxysm of mental agony. I
love not to depict the tortures of the deeply afflicted :
let this suffice ; he endured the penalty of his disobe-
dience to the extreme of his fathers imprecation.

For many days a malignant fever prostrated the
energies of the unfortunate Purwatti, but with the first
return of sufficient reason and strength, firmly casting
off his repugnance to be seen by his neighbours in his
lamentable disfigurement, he took a staff in his hand,
and bent his feeble steps towards certain temples of
Mahadeo, situated upon the heights above his cot-
tage, which, owing to their great antiquity and the
character of the attendant Brahmins, were held in
high veneration by the devout, and had been from
time immemorial a favourite resort of the inhabi-
tants of the surrounding country, whenever they re-
quired the prayers or advice of the priests ; for these
men were reputed to be skilful both as bodily and
spiritual physicians.

The temples are in themselves beautiful objects,
both on account of their picturesque form and posi-
tion, and also as fine specimens of the force and
merit of ancient Hindoo sculpture ; many of the
figures with which they are adorned, although origi-
nally but roughly hewn, and now crumbling with
decay, being admirably spirited and full of energy,
albeit the postures and proportions are somewhat
extravagant. The ornaments upon the exterior are
very elaborate, but consist chiefly of flowers and
t 3

210

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

running border patterns, deeply carved; the mate-
rial is red sandstone, and the form of the buildings
is peculiar to all temples dedicated to Mahadeo in
this part of the country, a high quadrangular figure,
surmounted with a conical roof. From a highly
elevated spot in the Sivalic hills, they command a
great extent of beautifully undulated country, finely
wooded with gigantic trees, watered with many
streams, and in some parts richly cultivated. The
style of scenery is charming and grand beyond de-
scription ; I only regret that my pencil was unequal
to the task of conveying a full idea of its many and
varied beauties. Such as it is, however, I trust the
accompanying sketch will enhance the reader’s inte-
rest in my tale.

It was with great labour and fatigue, and only by
slow advances that Purwatti was able to reach the
site of these sacred temples. Wholly subdued by
remorse and affliction, a thousand vows were made
upon his painful journey, and as he drew more and
more near to his destination, he found that the ner-
vous anxiety under which he laboured so greatly
impeded his progress, by the prostration of his re-
maining strength, that he almost despaired of ac-
complishing his object. Renewed hope occasionally
lent him such a measure of energy as at last
brought him to the temples. He came in quest
of the Brahmins, and found them assembled upon

HURDWAR.

211

a terrace of holy ground shaded by an overhanging
byr tree ; but they knew him not until he had de-
clared himself. Having received the benefit of their
prayers and religious consolation, he sent for Bikhari
the banker, and bestowed upon the priests a lahk of
rupees, the full price of the chaplet; and with the
chaplet itself he begged them to adorn the image of
the god, as the free offering of his daughter.

In answer to his enquiries, however, he was assured
that no sacrifice or penance, but death alone, could
remove the burden of his punishment. “Yet,” said
he, “ here under the shadow of these holy temples do I
solemnly bind myself henceforth to devote daily unto
the gods one half of the amount which I may have
spent the previous day ; and further, I vow to give to
every Brahmin, or religious pilgrim, who shall demand
it, a handful of the finest meal, as often as they may
require it for their own use or for the gods.”

The Brahmins having heard with delight this vow
of the penitent Purwatti, by which they anticipated
that great riches would come to their temples, not
only as the gift of Purwatti, but also by increasing
their renown as persons of wonderful sanctity, be-
came anxious lest when he should have an opportunity
for cool consideration, when time should have as-
suaged the bitterness of his misery, he should again
backslide, and leave his solemn promises unper-
formed. One of them, therefore, hoping to persuade

212

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

him to grant them such control over his property as
would enable them to exact a strict observance of the
vow, thus addressed him : —

“ O ! Purwatti, let no mortal trust in his own
foresight. How has thine own most sad experience
taught thee ? Hast thou at all times had it in thy
power, even when thy will and thy duty were at
peace, to fulfil with sufficient faithfulness thy own
vows or the sacred injunctions of thy dying father ?
Frequently, when the good intentions of men are
most forward, ability is at the ebb ; and again, when
the power is at hand inclination is sometimes want-
ing. Take warning by the past, and let not thy
safety depend solely upon thine own strength; but
invest us, thy trusty friends, with authority to provide
for the exact performance of these sacred obligations.
Have you not had awful proof that the wisdom of
one man is abject folly P Wisdom and discretion are
only to be found in the council of many. Is it not
truly said, that the knowledge of a wise man may be
turned into folly by the concurrent testimony of two
or three fools ? Listen, Purwatti, to the story of

THE BRAHMIN AND HIS GOAT,

and you will immediately acknowledge the truth of
what I have said. It will be seen that even a Brah-
min was led to distrust his own senses by the impu-
dent lying of three knaves. Who then can venture to

HURD WAR.

213

repose confidence in the infallibility of his single
wisdom ?

“ In former days, as at this time, these holy temples
were served by many Brahmins of such extraordinary
piety and wisdom, of such pure and heavenly lives,
that all the world was crying out, saying, ‘ Whence
came all these devout and sapient persons ?’ The
whole country, far and near, resounded with the
echoes of their praise, and they were sought by all
who had need either of bodily or spiritual advice.
But Genesa, the great god of wisdom, is often pleased
to expose the shallowness of mortal judgment and
foresight, when his just wrath is excited by man’s
impious assumption of his attributes.

“ Among the number of these excellent Brahmins
was one whose name was Suryaput, a man of such
superior learning and skill, acquired by great labour
and devotion to his sacred studies during a long life,
that he was always consulted in cases of emergency ;
and being raised to the holy dignity of chief-priest,
he became an oracle, speaking the will of the divine
Mahadeo. In fact, this extraordinary man was as
much an object of veneration among the priests as to
the vulgar : and yet he fell from the tower of his
greatness. Self-sufficiency and conceit found a lurk-
ing-place in the heart of this gifted and once pious
Brahmin, and speedily manifested themselves in his
contemptuous and overbearing behaviour to the rest
of the priesthood. Vanity and self-love unhappily

214

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

taught him to pour ridicule upon the ancient laws and
observances of his high office; he brought disgrace
upon the Vedas, as well as upon the servants of the
gods, by laughing to scorn the forms of devotion
which they inculcated, and by introducing into our
holy worship the most blasphemous doctrines, and
certain impious rites which were the invention of his
own intoxicated brain. For a time he endeavoured to
force the practice of these unhallowed things upon
the priests of the temple, but finding that they were
ready to oppose his designs, he cried aloud to the
people to follow him, for that he possessed power
with the gods to obtain for them every thing which
they might desire ; at the same time denouncing the
venerable ordinances of their ancient faith as a tissue
of ignorance and imposition.

“ Then, having drawn after him an immense con-
course of blinded and admiring devotees, he quitted
the steps of these sacred buildings, and made himself
a temple within the trunk of yonder hollow tree,
where he established new ceremonies and preached a
new doctrine in direct hostility to his former profes-
sions ; thus devoting to perdition the thousands of
foolish persons who were won over to his cause by
the splendour of his promises.

“ Among many other absurdities practised with a
view to his own profit, he pretended that the sacrifice of
a young goat was necessary, every time he had occasion
to call upon the gods ; and that he might offer such

HURD WAR.

215

only as should be acceptable, he made it necessary
that he should select and purchase the goat himself,
for which purpose he was supplied with money by all
who sought his assistance ; and thus doubtless he filled
his coffers and his stomach at the expense of his fol-
lowers. But the gods did not long suffer themselves
to be mocked. This wicked Brahmin stood alone, and
his fall came speedily.

One day, having been into the market to purchase
a goat, Suryaput was returning with the animal slung
over his shoulder, when he was espied, from behind a
thicket, by three dukliaits (robbers), who having tra-
velled far, and being very hungry, coveted the goat.
‘ Yet,’ said one of them, * behold this man is a Brah-
min ; we may not lay hands on him. If he were a
common person, we would slay him, and feast upon
the goat ; but now we must restrain our hands. How
fat is that young goat, and how delicious a curry would
his flesh furnish to appease our hunger ! Yet must we
suffer it to go by untouched.’

“ 1 Truly,’ said the second dukhait, * this is a Brah-
min, and therefore we cannot by any means possess
ourselves of the goat. — Let the holy man depart unmo-
lested.’

“ f Not so,’ said the third, who was an old man, * al-
though I should be as unwilling as either of you to
do any violence to this Brahmin, still I can see no
possible objection to our obtaining the goat by the
exercise of stratagem. Have we not a familiar saying,

216

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL-

That two or three fools may defeat a wise man ? — Let
ns try our wits upon this sage. I have a scheme to
propose which, if it should fail, let your ingenuity
attempt something better.’ Then, having consulted
together, they separated, and went by a circuitous path,
and placed themselves at distant intervals in the road
over which the Brahmin was travelling, so that each
might meet him separately, as if by accident.

“ Suryaput, who knew nothing of these dukhaits, or
their affection for his goat, was walking leisurely along
the road, possibly exulting inwardly at the success of
his secession from his brother Brahmins, and the con-
sequent fame and wealth which accrued to him ; when,
at an abrupt turn of the road, he was suddenly met by
a stranger, the smiling and pleasant expression of
whose countenance, as they came face to face, was
quickly changed to that of amazement ; then doubt was
evident in his gaze ; but a narrow scrutiny of the goat
upon Suryaput’s shoulder renewed his astonishment,
which was immediately followed by a look of horror ;
for all which the bewildered Brahmin could not possibly
account, until the stranger moving back a pace or two,
and casting aloft his eyes and extended hands to
heaven, cried aloud in accents of pity and lamentation,
f Oh, woe, woe ! Behold a Brahmin has gone mad, and
deliberately pollutes himself by the touch of a filthy
dog ! ’

“‘A dog! ’ replied Suryaput, with great indignation ;

‘ tall you this fat goat a dog ? ’ Then pointing to the

HURDWAR.

217

hoofs of the hind legs, which he had in his grasp, he
burst into a scornful laugh, exclaiming, * Fool ! are
these the feet of a dog P ’ But the stranger replied
not, except by a look of the most heart-felt commise-
ration, and each proceeded on his way.

“ Suryaput walked on about half a kos farther, think-
ing over the singular mistake of the stranger, and having
his eyes cast upon the ground. He had just ex-
pressed aloud his conviction of the traveller’s unhappy
state of mind, muttering as he went, — ‘ A dog indeed!
Mad ! mad ! ’ when he was met by a second traveller,
who on approaching him, and fixing his eyes upon the
goat, shrunk back as if in horror at the sight; and then
holding out his hand as if to arrest his progress, he
cried, f Alas! alas! how shocking! Behold, a sacred
Brahmin defiles himself by carrying upon his back the
foulest of unclean beasts! Oh horrible! horrible! that
a Brahmin should carry a dog! ’

" Suryaput stopped short, utterly confounded at this
second inexplicable occurrence. Then putting down
the goat, he looked at it again and again, and seeing
that it had indeed the form of a goat, he stretched out
his hand, unwilling to trust the evidence of a single
sense, and felt the beasts horns. ‘ It is a goat,’ cried
he. f Maa-a-a-a,’ cried the goat. * Idiot ! ’ ex-
claimed the enraged Brahmin. * Have I neither eyes,
nor hands, nor ears ? ”

“ ‘ Alas ! alas ! ’ said the stranger, ‘ how melancholy !
the dog barked, and the poor madman mistook its voice
u

218

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

for that of a goat. Poor fellow ! ’ and turning aside,
he passed the Brahmin as if he feared to be polluted by
his touch.

“ f Ah, ah ! ’ said Suryaput, as he again took the goat
upon his shoulder, " ’tis laughable that two madmen
should have mistaken my goat for a dog ; but the
longer we live, t^ie stranger things we see and hear.
These men perchance were brothers, born with the

same deficiency of reason, and but here is an aged

fellow coming ; he cannot be a brother ; he has the
air and appearance of a goat-herd ; perhaps he will
offer to purchase my goat/

e< As the old man approached the Brahmin, he pre-
pared to accost him, making a humble salaam, and
putting off his shoes to receive the priest’s blessing ;
but suddenly, as his eye fell upon the goat, he started
back, overcome with disgust and abhorrence ; then
averting his head, and clasping his hands as if in an
agony of grief, he cried out, ‘ Ah, woe is me ! what evil
have I done, that my eyes should behold this infamous
sight ! Is this Brahmin mad, or does he wilfully dese-
crate his sacred birth and holy office by carrying a dog
as if for sacrifice. O horrible, horrible ! ’

“ Suryaput, hearing this fearful accusation for the third
time, believed that a judgment had come upon him for
his iniquitous desertion of his former faith, and the
sacred rites of that religion which he knew to be pure
and infallible. Believing that Genesa had cast a de-
ceitful veil over his senses, and had thus permitted him

HURDWAR.

219

to become polluted, the conscience-smitten Suryaput
threw down the goat in a paroxysm of despair and pe-
nitential remorse, and with loud cries of distress he
fled to these temples, and cast himself prostrate before
the altars which his overweening vanity and covetous-
ness had induced him to forsake.

“ Thus the three dukhaits, by the repetition of a lie,
made the wise Brahmin believe that his goat was in
truth a dog, and in this manner they obtained posses-
sion of it. So that you see even the wisest of us are
not at all times infallible.”

Purwatti having listened to this account of the
Brahmin Suryaput, became fully convinced that it
would be for his own good, and the security of his
welfare, to place in the hands of the Brahmins such
an instrument as would enable them to enforce an im-
plicit observance of his vows, lest in a weak moment
he should become a defaulter to the gods ; and having
thus done, he returned to his own house, and sought
consolation in the soft affection of his darling child,
who soon became, if possible, more and more dear to
him; albeit, an unreasonable person might have up
braided her as the indirect cause of his misfortune.

Tidings of the bania's vow having spread far and
wide through the country, from temple to temple,
from Brahmin to Brahmin, from pilgrim to pilgrim,
all religious devotees who sought shelter beneath the
sacred banian tree, — and at certain seasons there were
u 2

220

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

daily many thousands, — failed not to apply at the banias
shop for his handful of fine meal, so that he was com-
pelled to appoint a slave whose sole occupation was
the distribution of this charity : thus not only did the
expenditure become enormous, but his trade was
ruinously impeded, and his repose completely de-
stroyed through the continual pressure of the noisy
multitude around his cottage. Under these unhappy
circumstances, the wretched Purwatti found his trea-
sure daily decreasing without the possibility of his
escaping the ultimate min which stared him in the
face.

In the midst of his sorrows, he was again visited
by the pearl-merchant, who condoled with him on his
sad misfortunes, and endeavoured to inspire him with
hope ; he persuaded him to accompany him one day’s
journey to Hurdwar, there to consult the holiest
Brahmins of that sacred place, and to try the virtue
of ablution at the renowned ghat of Hari. To
this proposal Purwatti gladly assented; but having
presented himself before those devout persons, he
related to them the history of his misfortunes,
and having distributed large sums of money, having
bathed continually, received their loudest blessings,
and been the incessant object of their prayers, he was
at last informed, that the Brahmins of his native village
had not erred in their assurance that the persecutions
of his destiny would only cease with death. The
pearl-merchant, however, would not permit the despair

- >'

lJums7ie& 0ct,X1836, ~by Charles J!'0£, SC. Meet

HURD WAR.

221

of Purwatti to overpower his hopes, and urged upon
him with great zeal and affection, that he should ac-
company him on his voyage down the Ganges to
Siva’s * chosen city, Benares ; and from thence, if he
should have gained no relief from his woes, he stre-
nuously pleaded that he should accompany him to the
most holy island of Ceylon. To this Purwatti would have
objected the impossibility of quitting his home without
incurring the farther curse of his father ; but the pbarl-
merchant removed his doubts, recommending him to
leave his daughter under the protection of the Brah-
mins as a pledge of his intention to return ; and
although sore at heart to tear himself from his darling
child, he at last yielded a reluctant consent to accom-
pany the pearl -merchant; for a spark of hope yet
lingered in his breast, since he regarded his calamities
as almost beyond mortal endurance, and altogether too
severe to be strictly enforced upon him by the gods
without some measure of remission.

When Purwatti and the pearl-merchant returned
to Vanadosini, they communicated to her the news of
her father’s resolution, which almost broke the tender
heart of that fond and gentle child; for she had a double
source of anxiety in the departure of the travellers, the
pearl-merchant having become daily more dear to her
soul. On the eve of their journey, Purwatti, having

* Siva and Mahadeo are names indiscriminately applied to the same
deity. The former, perhaps, is more generally used in Bengal, and
the latter in the western provinces.

u 3

222

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

summoned the Brahmins from the temples of Mahadeo,
informed them of his projected pilgrimage, and after
he had solemnly committed his precious child to their
protection, he told them, that in her hands he placed
the power of drawing all such sums of money as his
friend Bikhari, the banker, should conceive to be really
necessary to the strict performance of his vow.

When he had completed his arrangements, the bania
retired to his sleepless couch, and there during the slow
and silent hours of the night he continued in painful me-
ditation, until this unhappy thought entered his mind.
If, said he within himself, my return should be longer
delayed than I anticipate; if sudden death should
overtake me in the dangerous straits of my pilgrimage,
and the entire remnants of my once ample wealth be-
come exhausted in my absence, what will become of
my sweet child P And with this bitter consideration
he continued a long time in ungovernable anguish.
At last, starting from his couch, “ Ah, ah ! ” cried he
aloud, with a wild tortured laugh, “ Ah, ah ! thus will
I at least protract this fearful evil. The hand of that
overgrown slave whom in my blind folly I have ap-
pointed to dispense the fine meal is as the hand of a
giant, and the villain, delighting in the hideous prospect
of my downfal, employs tenfold his natural activity in
dealing forth the bounty ; but who among mortals has
a hand so delicately small as that of my most precious
V anadosini ? Ah, ah ! in the narrow doorway of my
shop will I erect a seat for her ere I depart, and there

HURDWAR.

223

shall she daily take her place, and with the tiny mea-
sure of her soft hand deal forth a religious quittance of
my vow. A single maund of fine meal will thus sup-
ply tenfold as many as now demand my charity in the
course of the wdioleday. Ten thousand blessings wait
upon the propitious genius who granted me that saving
thought.” And immediately on this ingenious conceit
the exulting Purwatti arose, and constructed a seat for
his daughter in the narrow doorway, where she might
without inconvenience distribute her handful of meal
to each applicant. “ There will I leave her, while my
wealth is again accumulating in the hands of Bikhari,
and on my return with the pearl-merchant, there shall
I find her still seated, performing her father’s vow to
the gods.”

When the day dawned, having given his daughter
instructions regarding her duties, the father disengaged
himself from her tearful embrace, and the pearl-mer-
chant took an affectionate but respectful leave; and
thus the travellers departed on their laborious journey,
which at the nearest calculation must he no less a dis-
tance than four thousand miles to travel over ere they
could return, and this they hoped to accomplish in a
year.

Immediately on her father’s departure, the beautiful
Vanadosini, although bathed in tears and overwhelmed
with anxious apprehensions for those whom she loved
so tenderly, found it necessary to enter upon her
new duties; and as each successive Brahmin arrived

224

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

with a request for his handful of meal, nothing could
exceed his surprise on beholding that most lovely of
women, with her own sweet little hand distributing
Purwatti’s bounty. They saw through his fraudulent
intention, but considering themselves more than abun-
dantly recompensed for their short measure by the
honour of receiving it from so fair and delicate a hand,
and for the sake of a look at so exquisite a beauty,
they felt disposed neither to blame nor to regret Pur-
watti’s cunning expedient, but the rather extolled his
prudence. But above all, every mouth was filled with
rapturous praises of the incomparable Vanadosini ;
the fame of her charms spread with astonishing cele-
rity through all parts of the coqntry, and multi-
tudes flocked daily to obtain a sight of her; many
exalted her with celestial attributes, and as her vota-
ries daily increased, divine homage was paid to her
by thousands. Artless and unaffected as was the
sweet girl who excited all this ferment of admiration
and devotion, she could not remain uninformed of its
meaning, and not daring to disobey her parent’s com-
mands, she naturally had recourse to a veil, which so
completely enveloped her person as to leave not the
least view of her, except only the little hand with
which the fine meal was measured. This expedient,
however, far from removing the annoyance of her
importunate slaves, rather excited their curiosity and
inflamed their imaginations, so that her trials were
daily increased ; and in the midst of the wild tumult

HURD WAR.

225

which from morning until night polluted the sacred
shadow of the banian tree, she was compelled to
make patience her only comfort. The Brahmins,
under whose charge she had been placed by Purwatti,
were compelled to take active measures for her pro-
tection, which could only he effected by surrounding
the banias cottage with a powerful body of armed
men. These required, of course, a large sum of
money for their support; the Brahmins, too, required
a handsome remuneration for their constant attend-
ance and arduous duties, and these things, together
with the absolute loss of all trade, and the countless
and never-ending pilgrims and devotees who crowded
upon Vanadosini for the meal, made daily most
ruinous depredation upon the remaining property of
the absent Purwatti, and it was obvious that ere long
not a rupee would be left. This was matter of sincere
grief and distress to Bikhari, the banker, who, at the
same time could devise no scheme for the avoidance
of the impending ruin ; besides, he, a devout and
conscientious person, could not interfere with the ful-
filment of his friend’s vow, and religiously trusted to
the favour of the gods for the support and protection
of Vanadosini.

More than twelve months had now elapsed since
the travellers had taken their departure, and yet they
came not. Fear and dire anxiety took possession of
poor Vanadosini, when she thought what might he
the fate of those so dear to her ; added to this, con -

226

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

stant care, trial, and fatigue, together with a know-
ledge of the utter ruin of her father, produced a sad
effect upon her health and bewildered her mind ; the
colour fled her beautiful cheek, the life of her smile
departed, her soft eyes were bedimmed with tears,
and her finely -rounded form was gradually robbed of
its loveliest perfections. At length, for the first time,
she appeared not, at the long looked-for hour of sun-
rise, to repay the anxious watching of the throng ; an
alarming fever and delirium had laid her delicate
form prostrate on the bed of sickness; but in her
place came Bikhari, and with trembling voice, and
downcast heart and looks, declared to them, that not a
fraction of Purwatti’s wealth remained in his treasuiy.
A general response of lamentation and compassion
was uttered by the crowd, and with prayers for the
recovery of Vanadosini, and for the safe return of her
now almost sainted father, they gradually dispersed.

Scarcely had they all withdrawn from the cover of
the banian tree, when the arrival of Purwatti and the
pearl-merchant was announced to the honest Bikhari,
who hastened to greet them, delighted to be relieved
from the weight of his fears on their account. With
cautious delicacy he communicated to them the evils
which Purwatti, by his own pernicious device, had
called down from heaven upon his house ; and the
unfortunate man, execrating himself for his delin-
quency, could not but confess the justice of his punish-
ment, and having invoked forgiveness of the gods, he

HURDWAR.

227

exclaimed, “ Through vice and folly, through cupidity
and unreasonable affection for our own flesh and blood,
come sorrow and bereavement. Thus is wisdom taught
to the blind. Be warned, 0 my son ; youth, wealth,
fraud, and an inconsiderate action, will each of them
occasion danger. What measure of disaster then will
not be accomplished by all four of them in con-
junction ? Among all possessions, experience and
example appear pre-eminently valuable ; by the wise
they are called supreme riches ; because they can
never be lost, stolen, or destroyed ; and as, by the
company of gold, even glass acquires the brilliancy of a
gem, so, by the society of the wise and good, are the
less perfect made to shine. And again, whosoever is
watchful to restrain his evil propensities, who speaks
considerately, who acts advisedly, a dutiful child, a
conscientious parent, these for a thousand years give
birth to no misfortune ; but mark the respective situa-
tions of him who eats inordinately and of the food
which he devours ; do you not discern the short friend-
ship and the total destruction of both.” Having thought-
fully pronounced these words of wisdom, Purwatti
hastened to embrace his drooping child.

The return of her father went far to restore both
the bodily and mental disease of Vanadosini, and in
a few days she was seen reclining by his side beneath
the deep shade of the circling banian, in company
with the pearl -merchant and Bikhari. The subject
of conversation was evidently one of absorbing interest

228 THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

to each of the group ; and the mantling blush and
modest smile of Vanadosini would alone have suggested
what the raised voice of the pearl-merchant at length
declared. " All, all is hers and yours, Purwatti ; that
by the favour of the gods I am prosperous, you are
right well aware ; and now, after so long and severe a
trial of my heart and disposition, judge for yourself
whether I am possessor of the other eleven virtues
which I named to you. O speak, and tell me that
from henceforth the shade of this sacred tree shall be
my home.”

Henceforth thou know’st not in what youthful play
Our days, beguiled with pleasure, swam away ;

Gay songs and cheerful tales deceived the time,

And circling goblets made a tuneful chime ;

Sweet was the draft, and sweet the blooming maid,

Who touched her lyre beneath the fragrant shade.” *

* Translated from the Arabic by Sir William Jones.

229

KUNKHUL.

About two miles below Hurdwar, upon the same side
of the Ganges, is the town of Kunkhul, deriving no
little sanctity from its proximity to that most sacred
of places. The more wealthy and the higher castes
of the Hindoos who visit Hurdwar usually encamp
at Kunkhul, to avoid the tumult and other innumerable
annoyances inseparable from the concourse of Hindoos.
Here too they can enjoy open space, and, with a
little interest, gain admission to some beautiful gardens
belonging to the temples. The town consists princi-
pally of one broad handsome street, formed by a
succession of showy fronts and highly decorated
gateways, which, like those at Hurdwar, appear to be
built more for the purpose of shutting out the mean
and dirty hovels of the owners, than for the purposes
of habitation. On either side of the street is a high
terrace, for the erection of stalls at the festival ; these,
together with balconies and arcaded galleries, project-
ing from all parts of the buildings, afford excellent

x

230

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

accommodation to the spectators of the religious pro-
cessions which parade the sunken road.

The temples are numerous, but I am not aware that
there are any of particular celebrity. That represented
in the little vignette of this volume stands upon
the Ganges bank in front of the madrissa, or
ancient college ; I was induced to sketch it, not
only for the sake of its picturesque position, but
also on account of the peculiar style of its pointed
roof, which I believe to he perfectly unique. I
have never seen its like, or any thing resembling its
form, in India, and am somewhat at a loss to under-
stand how the roof is supported, there being no jambs
or buttresses to resist the lateral pressure, which, it is
evident, from its concave form, must be very great.
It is constructed entirely of very small bricks, plas-
tered over with white stucco, and ornamented with
mouldings and cornices of red sandstone. It has appa-
rently been a structure of i$uch importance, but has
fallen into neglect and consequent decay : though an
image of Krishna is still within, I believe, it is seldom
or never used for devotional purposes. The lower
chamber is encumbered with rubbish, and over-grown
with rank moss, being, without doubt, a very favourite
haunt of the families of snakes, and lurking scorpions ;
while the upper apartment, to which access is gained
by a flight of decayed steps in the rear, has become
the privileged resort of bats and noisome vampires.
The platform round this room has once been fenced

KUNKHUL.

231

with a handsome balustrade of carved stone, hut few
fragments of it are now left.

My sketch of this temple was made on the morning
of one of those fresh and delicious days with which this
part of the country is favored even in April. Having
completed my task, I jumped upon my pony, who,
pleased to have been spared the usual form of having his
servant in attendance, had been nibbling the sprouting
grass upon the banks ; then setting off in search of a
new subject for my pencil, I was galloping at a round
pace over the broken ground and ragged remnants of
antiquity, when I came suddenly upon a group of
natives, evidently confabulating upon matters of mo-
ment and excitement. Upon the summit of a small
knoll, under the shadow of a gigantic peeple tree, sat
five well looking Brahmins face to face in a circle,
engaged in earnest discussion ; immediately at the foot
of the tree stood a tall, and I fancied rather a graceful
female, whom, though closely veiled, I should also
have guessed to be youthful, and by her side a man
of no prepossessing figure or countenance, thick set,
awkward, and in feature ugly and villanous. At a
short distance from them, immediately without the
circle formed by the wise men in conclave, stood a
comely youth with downcast eye and abashed de-
meanor, which betokened some cause for confusion,
beyond his presence before the venerable Brahmins, or
the gaze of the crowd of spectators who had gathered
around the group. He however appeared to reply to
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232

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

the questions of his examiners without hesitation,
although his voice was unsteady with emotion ; and
there was an impetuosity of manner, mingled with
occasional glances of hatred, contempt, and revenge,
cast at the man who stood beside the female, which
proved that his disquietude was not entirely on his
own account. I enquired of the by-standers the
meaning of the scene, and was informed that the
Brahmins formed a panchaiut, or council of five, for
the trial of the female, who, it appears, had excited the
jealousy of her husband, the forbidding person who
stood beside her. The youth was he who shared her
suspicions, and the guilt of the parties having been
pretty clearly established in the opinion of the Brah-
mins, he was now giving evidence of the inhuman
conduct of the husband towards his wife. As he pro-
ceeded in his story, he recounted various acts of bar-
barity on the part of the man, which moved the listeners
to indignation and verbal abuse; to which however
the husband only replied with looks of hardy defiance.
When the lad had finished his statement, he called
witnesses, who proved his assertions, and he then took
a most solemn oath of his and the woman’s innocence,
and he was immediately put to the test of ordeal ;
which consisted simply in requiring him to eat a
handful of dry barley ; he performed his task much to
the satisfaction of his j udges, and this was sufficient to
acquit him from any sort of punishment.

The woman was then called upon to undergo the

KUNKKUL.

233

same mode of trial, and with a trembling step she
advanced to the council. She then by their desire
uncovered her head, displaying a remark ably interest-
ing, if not decidedly handsome face, and winning the
sympathy of all the by-standers by her modest and
graceful behaviour. Many and fervent, I am certain,
were the prayers put up in her behalf, to the effect
that she might escape punishment by passing the
ordeal. Whether it is to be attributed to her nervous-
ness and confusion, or whether indeed she was guilty
while the boy wras innocent, certain it is, that after
having for a long time masticated the barley and made
repeated efforts to swallow it, she found herself quite
unable to accomplish it; and as her inability became
apparent, her efforts grew less and less effectual, until
at last, in utter despair, and overwhelmed with fear and
shame, she sunk fainting upon the ground. Water
was sprinkled upon her face, and she was made to
drink a small quantity, after which she in a measure
revived; and then, being supported by two of the mul-
titude, at a signal given by the Brahmins, a barber
stepped into the ring, and lock by lock cut from her
head her splendid hair, which reached almost to her
feet ; having so done, he completed the operation by
shaving her head ; and then the principal Brahmin,
rising, addressed the multitude, exhorting them to
avoid all crime, more especially that for which this
woman was punished ; for that the loss of honor in
such cases must be punished by the loss of that which
x 3

234

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

usually led to the evil, beauty. Hereupon the barber
again stepped forward, and taking from the implements
of his craft a small pair of shears, he dexterously
applied them to the poor sufferer’s face, and, ere she
understood his intention, he had severed her nose from
her face. A slight cry ot pain escaped her, and
gathering her white chuddur around her, she seated
herself on the grass, apparently overcome with faint-
ness, occasioned by her acute mental and bodily suf-
fering, and the rapid loss of blood which followed the
last operation.

This is by no means an uncommon punishment
for inconstancy in the western provinces of Hindostan.
I have more than once seen it inflicted ; and in one
instance it was executed upon the wife of a groom
in the service of one of my brother officers, when
there was no proof of the charge, but only of trifling
conduct. It is a most fallacious idea, which appears
to be generally received among Europeans, that the
Hindoos are indifferent to the virtue of their country-
women, or that they are unable to appreciate the
charming excellence of modesty. I will venture to
affirm, without fear of contradiction from those who
have had sufficient opportunities of forming a fair
judgment, that except among those classes where the
females are born to dishonour, there are none among
civilized nations more scrupulously delicate in these
matters than are the much libelled Hindoos; and
more especially the higher castes of them. If it be

KUNKHUL.

235

suggested that the shameless indecencies of many
of their religious rites argue a depravity of their
minds, I can with confidence declare that this is
disproved by experience. That these revolting doc-
trines spring from utter pollution of heart and man-
ners is manifest, but it may be daily seen that their
observance of them is performed in complete simpli-
city. It does not appear to enter their heads that
there is any thing like indecency in what has from
childhood been taught them as part of their religion.

236

HIMALA MOUNTAINS.

The Himala Mountains are so called from the ever-
lasting snows with which they are crowned ; the word
signifying “palace of snow;” they are otherwise
named by the natives Himla, Himadri, or Himachil,
the sense of each being nearly the same. The most
romantic descriptions which could be lavished upon
their beauties, the most powerful pictures of the poet
or the artist, must fall short of anything like the truth,
in attempting to convey an idea of the stupendous and
almost supernatural wonders of these sublime regions.
The pen in the hand of an ordinary writer is utterly
inadequate, is at once laid aside as soon as the wish
to describe has been formed; the brush even of a
skilful artist is almost as useless ; the highest flights of
the imagination are unequal to the grand reality. To
see, alone, is to appreciate the magnificent splendour of
the scenery ; even memory fails to retain it ; for again

HIMALA MOUNTAINS.

237

and again, after having beheld, we are astonished,
when we return, to find the interminable range still
more and more gigantic, more and more varied in
richness of the beautiful and the picturesque.

The plate represents a view of the great cone and the
peaks of Jumnoutri, as seen from the neighbourhood
of Budrajh, upon the banks of a small stream tributary
to the Jumna. Viewed from this spot, the great cone,
which may be recognized by its peculiarly regular
figure, appears to be almost in contact with Jumnoutri
peaks, and to the eastward of them ; while in truth it
is full fifteen miles distant to the northward.

In Jumnoutri, as the name implies, the sacred Jum-
na has its source, and here the infant stream, which, near
its junction with the Ganges, is from two to three
thousand yards in breadth, ripples through a narrow
channel over which a man may stride. The spot at
which it issues from the snow, under an enormous
cavern of icicles, is about seventeen thousand feet
above the level of the sea. The mountain has three
peaks, which, from their lateral position, in the drawing
are not distinctly visible : of these the centre is the
highest, and is computed 25,500 feet above the level
of the sea. The aspect of the mountain upon the
north and south sides differs wonderfully ; on the
south it is comparatively shelving, and is clothed with
wood to the height of eleven thousand feet, while on
the north it is rugged, barren, and precipitous ; not
even a shrub is found at a greater altitude than nine or

238

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

ten thousand feet above the level of the sea. The for-
mation is gneiss, intersected with beds of granite, and
no volcanic matter whatever is found, though several
travellers have discovered perfect ammonites (not sal-
gram stones) in the neighbourhood of the hot springs;
they are common at the height of ten thousand feet.
The village of Jumnoutri is on the banks of the river,
close to a number of these springs, and is considered a
spot of remarkable sanctity ; Hindoos who perform the
pilgrimage from the low countries being themselves
almost deified after the adventure. The temples are
insignificant. From this place the river becomes some-
what more important, and gathering force at every val-
ley, dashes down its precipitous channel, leading a
most zig-zag course, until it unites its waters with the
Tansa ; whence, rolling down a vast volume of water, it
soon bursts upon the plain of the Dhoon, on the bor-
ders of the great forest, where the Emperor Shah
Jehan, about two hundred years ago, built a magnifi-
cent sporting residence, for the purpose of pursuing
the wild elephants, tigers, and the whole world of ferce
nature, who here find hiding places.

The great cone is more than twenty-one thousand
feet in height above the level of the sea ; in the ra-
vines upon its sides are the springs which, accumu-
lating at one point, form the river Tansa, one of the
largest streams within the mountains, and celebrated
for its magnificent falls, one of which is one hundred
and eighty feet perpendicular, without interruption, so

HIMALA MOUNTAINS.

239

that ere the water reaches the bottom, more than half
of it ascends in vapour, and furnishes continual mois-
ture to the luxuriant vegetation around. Along the
banks of this river are a race of Hindoos, who, like
the Parsees, worship the sun; the devout among
them will on no account taste food while the orb is
above the horizon, and many are found who refuse
to seat themselves during the day, while the sun is
visible, which, during all the summer months, is from
his rising until his setting, this season being cloudy.

It is common in these parts for the women to be
blessed with a plurality of husbands ; some of them
have as many as six or seven. When a woman has
been fortunate enough to gain one who is comparatively
opulent, she is sure to attract a large number of suitors,
since she regulates her husband’s household, and dis-
poses of his wealth at her pleasure ; it is said, that she
will often put her well-to-do lord and master upon
short commons, while she heaps favour upon the
poorest, if they respectively deserve such treatment.
The men appear to be as devoted and submissive as
the wives are imperious ; for at festivals, and on other
public occasions, it is usual for the women to take the
lead, followed by their proper retinue of husbands, who
take precedence entirely at her good will and pleasure ;
and it is not at all an unusual thing for a wife to send
three or four of her husbands off in different directions
a few weeks’ journey, either to sell or purchase sheep
and goats, to seek for her some coveted treasure, or to

240

the oriental annual.

perform a pilgrimage for her sake ; all which arduous
duties are, for the most part, religiously performed,
without strife or jealousy.

THE STORY OF NEEL KHOAR AND HER FIVE
HUSBANDS

is related by the Paharris (mountaineers) with a hope,
perhaps, that it may have a tendency to check all ob-
streperous conduct, on the part of the husbands, to-
wards the common wife, or revengeful behaviour to one
another. It is to this effect.

A woman of great beauty, named Neel Khoar,
having sufficient wit to select and retain her husbands
with proper discretion and kindness, had already taken
unto herself three, when she was courted by two
youths, who were considered the handsomest men in
the village. One was wealthy, and the other had only
his beauty to recommend him. She accepted both,
and preferred to the head of her household the youth
who had so greatly increased her comforts, by bringing
to her all the contents of his treasury. The other,
who, even in beauty, could not vie with his rival, was
made, for a while, the drudge of the family ; but being
used to such menial offices, he performed cheerfully
all that his mistress imposed upon him, and considered
himself fortunate in thus obtaining an occasional smile
and token of her approval.

Whether it was the effect of this submissive be-

HIMALA MOUNTAINS.

241

haviour on the part of the youth, or of other good
qualities which the wife found in him, certain it is,
that he daily increased in favour with her, and was
advanced from his pitiable situation to something
more like comfort; and others of the family were made
to do his bidding, while his comely person was set off
by handsome apparel and ornaments. The secret in-
fluence which had gained him this distinction con-
tinued to operate with still greater force, until it was
evident that the wife had no will but his pleasure, no
pleasure but his will, and she hesitated not to heap
upon him every possible mark of her affection, with-
out regard to expense, or a thought concerning her
other wedded loves.

As would certainly be the case with any other man
under such circumstances, the favourite became in-
tolerably conceited, overhearing to his fellow husbands,
and solely engrossed by his passion for the all-loving
and beloved queen of his heart. In luxury and sloth,
the infatuated pair passed the time away, while the
other men were made to slave for their support, and
the encouragement of their excesses.

Unused to such indulgences, hitherto humble and
poor, the new favourite was lost in the intoxication
of pleasure, his heart was abandoned to pride and
selfishness, while every kindly virtue lay dormant.
Yet, when the hours of excitement ceased to flush
his senses, and fresh pleasures of dissipation failed
to bud, in his heart he could not but feel conscious
Y

242

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

of the utter inanity of his fancied happiness, and
he lamented, while he had not strength to grapple
with, the dark passions which were coiling themselves
around his throbbing heart. The momentary pre-
sence of such images left clouds of sadness lingering
upon that fine brow where hitherto peaceful content
alone had rested, and this unwonted gloom, though
only occasional, failed not to attract the notice of the
wife. Her first smile soon became unable to dispel
it, and fearful of evil she sought an explanation of
the change, but was quite unable to comprehend the
half-confessed reasons alleged by the husband, and
taxed him with growing indifference. At first, with
tenderness he combatted the idea, but finding his
assurances fail of conviction, he at length ceased to
reply to her continual enquiries about his melan-
choly, and from that moment the woman’s affection
was turned from him.

The favourite soon became aware of his changed
position, for the same breath which poured the accent
of querulous complaint and unkindness on his ear
bore the soft murmur of tenderness to the revived
senses of his former rival. The gifts, fond tokens of
the woman’s love, were one by one resumed and
bestowed upon his replaced enemy, who already began
to retaliate the indignities which he had suffered while
out of power ; the especial luxuries of the fallen lord
were all appropriated to enhance the love of his hated
opponent, and not without contemptuous smiles and

HIMALA MOUNTAINS.

243

many a bitter jest. The demons of jealousy and re-
venge grew large within the soul of the abused hus-
band, and vowing in his heart a terrible retribution he
retired from the hut.

He sought the hidden retreats of a lonely valley,
where casting himself upon the ground he remained
for a time in an agony of silent tears ; until alas ! black
rage, entering his soul anew, expelled remorse.
Starting to his feet, he cried aloud in frenzied passion,
tc Aye, thus shall it be-— and then, collecting all the
spoils, I’ll hasten to join my brother in his bloody
trade.”

In the dead of night, when the whole village lay
buried in profound sleep, the enraged cast-off, having
oiled his person from head to foot, the better to elude
capture, secretly withdrew the screen from the door
of the family hut, and having in his hand a knife
and a cup containing a powerful vitriol, with cautious
stealth he entered the lowly apartment. For a moment
he paused over the charpahi upon which his victims
lay, and then, muttering deep curses between his teeth,
he dashed the contents of the cup into the face of his
rival, and raising his extended arm he was about to
stab Neel Khoar to the heart; when, alarmed by the
shrieks of her agonized companion, she started to her
feet, and with surprising strength and courage closed
upon her assailant, and succeeded in keeping off the
knife until the neighbours came to her assistance and
rescued her.

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THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

The beauty of his rival was for ever destroyed,
and finding that his once beloved wife had escaped his
villany, his heart relented, and he expressed the fullest
contrition for the crime ; but Neel Khoar would not
forgive him, and entreated her husbands to carry him
forth and cast him headlong down the cataract; which
possibly they would speedily have executed had they
not been withheld by the villagers.

“ It must not be,” said an aged Sanias (a class of
religious devotees) ; “he shall not die. Did the Sanias
of old destroy the elephant when he turned against the
life of his protector, or did he not rather re-transform
him into a mouse as a more lasting punishment for his
treachery ? ”

Neel Khoar, having listened to the words of this
wise devotee, became appeased, and her curiosity being
excited, she requested that he would favour her with
a recital of the story concerning that ancient Sanias
and the elephant, in order that she might be able to
judge what sort of punishment she could best award
to the culprit. Then the old man, delighting to re-
count the wisdom and the good deeds of one of his
own tribe, seated himself in the midst of them, and
thus told

THE FABLE OF THE MOUSE AND THE SANIAS.

“You have all of you heard of the celebrated town
and temples of Saniaskotta in Rungpoor. That
sacred place derives its name from the hero of

H1MALA MOUNTAINS.

245

my story, who was a Sanias of high repute, a most
holy man, and a powerful worker of miracles.

“ Before I proceed with my tale, I shall inform you
how it happened that the place was thus named after
the Sanias, in order that you may he sensible of his
exceeding sanctity. After a life of rigid devotion to his
religion, and of the severest penance and pilgrimage,
this holy Sanias suddenly withdrew from the world,
and none were informed of the time or manner of
his departure. Hundreds of years afterwards how-
ever, when only the tradition of his holiness remained,
it happened that a raja of the place was building new
works upon the fort ; and while digging the foundation,
the workmen were suddenly surprised by a loud outcry
from beneath the solid earth ; and on looking narrowly
at the spot whence they had withdrawn their tools,
they found marks of blood, and seeing the earth move,'
and hearing the voice continue its complaint, they
cleared the spot and found that they had wounded the
head of a man who was lying in the earth. This
proved to be the very Sanias, who hundreds of years
before had lived above ground at that place ; all
the intervening years he had spent in meditation,
and still so much was he bent upon the mysteries of
his own thoughts, that instead of desiring to see the
daylight, he requested the workmen to cover him up
again. He was immediately obeyed, and instead of
building the new fortifications, the raja ordered the
present temples to be erected over the spot, as also
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246

THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

the house of mendicants and other religious buildings,
which to this day bear the name of Saniaskotta.

“ Now it was during the lifetime of this extraordi-
nary saint that the circumstances of my tale occurred.
That reverend man was one morning, soon after sun-
rise, seated upon the earth under the broad spreading
shade of a superb tamarind tree, around the trunk of
which he had built his hut ; and while he was rumi-
nating upon the fruits of his own wisdom, and pre-
paring spiritual food for his daily disciples, a little
mouse, mangled and almost dead, fell before him
from the talons of a kite, who, having earned him into
the tree, was about to devour him. * Behold,’ cried
the good man, ‘ even the smallest and poorest of God’s
creatures are worthy of our sympathy and protection ;
what shall I do to comfort this poor mouse ? ’ Then
taking up the miserable little animal, he caressed it,
and took so much care of it, that in a few minutes it
began to revive ; then he gave it rice to eat, and soon
restored it to its full strength and sleekness. In
gratitude for these fond services, the mouse became
exceedingly well attached to the Sanias, and felt that,
in return for so much kindness, he was ready at any
time to lay down his life for his benefactor; and
would on no account depart from him, but continued
daily to partake of his rice, and to receive other marks
of his favor.

“ It happened that, upon one occasion, while the
mouse was playing about his patron’s cottage, a large

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247

and very ferocious black cat came prowling by, who,
perceiving the mouse, was preparing to spring upon
and devour that poor little animal. By good fortune,
however, the Sanias was seated reading in front of his
door, and quickly discovered the jeopardy of his
favorite. His heart was immediately enlarged with
compassion, and in order to rescue the mouse he in a
moment of time transformed him into a cat superior
in size and strength to his enemy ; so that the black
cat becoming terribly alarmed remained not to con-
template this wonderful transfiguration, but fled in the
fear of annihilation.

“ Exulting in his increased bulk and newly acquired
strength, and sensible of the great peril from which
the Sanias had rescued him, the cat failed not to
exhibit an increased degree of affection towards his
protector, and the Sanias in return showed that he re-
garded the animal with fondness, as a signal mark of
his power and skill. Thus when he beheld the cat
exposed to danger by the attack of a fierce dog, he
hesitated not to repeat his spell, and at once changed
him into a larger and more powerful dog than the
assailant, and by this means was he a second time
delivered by the Sanias from threatening destruction.
Not very long after this new instance of the devout
man’s supernatural power and his benevolence of
heart, the dog was attacked by a fierce buffalo, and the
Sanias again befriended him, as he had done before, by
converting him into a beast of the same genus, but

248 THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

of more formidable appearance, so that his antagonist
again fled in fear of him. And again for the same
reason did the Sanias transform the buffalo into a
rhinoceros, and the rhinoceros into an elephant.

“Then the elephant became over elated at the extra-
ordinary good fortune which had befallen him, in
being changed from so weak and helpless a creature
as a mouse into an elephant of incomparable strength,
and thus rejoicing in his newly-acquired might, he
wandered to and fro, displaying his terrible prowess
in various acts of mischief and devastation, until the
neighbours, becoming fearful as well as angry, ex-
claimed, ' Who is this elephant, that he should thus
lay waste our gardens and vineyards, and destroy our
cattle ? Is he not the miserable mouse whose life the
Sanias saved again and again, and now his usurped
and unnatural strength is turned against his friends ?
What mariner of elephant is he ? Truly his ingrati-
tude deserves a severe chastisement : let us destroy
him.’

“ Then the elephant became greatly distressed. 5 Is
it thus ?•’ said he within himself. ‘ Then as long as
that Sanias continues to breathe, he will relate the
story of my former insignificance, and how I have
been exalted to my present might from the pitiable
condition of a dying mouse. This ignominy shall no
longer cleave to me. The vile Sanias shall die, and
with him will perish the history of my altered state.’
Having come to this abominable determination, the

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249

ungrateful elephant rushed upon his benefactor, and
would have torn him to pieces in an instant ; but
the holy man, knowing by virtue of his piety and
by divine intuition, the evil machinations which had
sprung up in the heart of the elephant, by one blight-
ing glance of his eye, paralysed the limbs of that
monstrous brute, and then, pronouncing a word or two
of jddoo, and spirting a few drops of water in his
face, he immediately re-transformed him into a mouse ;
being convinced that the degradation to his former
insignificance would prove a much more severe pu-
nishment than annihilation could ever be.

“Now, my daughter, follow the example of the
wise Sanias ; you have been pleased to raise this
ingrate from poverty and abject nothingness to the
favour of your love and the enjoyment of all which
your wealth could bestow upon him. How has he
requited your affection P Now make him the laugh-
ing-stock of the world, and the mark of his own
bitter hatred and contempt, by casting him back upon
his original littleness.”

Neel Khoar could not but admire the advice of the
Sanias, and having ordered the culprit to be stripped
of all which he possessed, she had him branded on
the cheeks with a mark of infamy, and turned him

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THE ORIENTAL ANNUAL.

adrift upon the wide world. “ For,” said she, “ if a
thief in scaling a wall should fall to the ground and
have his back broken, does he merit ’our sympathy or
our reproof ? ”

THE END.

CLARKE, PRINTERS, SILVER STREET, FALCON SQUARE, LONDON.