by Fanny Parkes
Going for our evening drive, such a smell of roasted locusts issued forth as we passed the stables! The flight consisted of red locusts, but amongst them were some of a bright yellow colour. Brown locusts are the most common; the red as well as the yellow are scarce; the red in dying become nearly quite brown.
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The khānsāmān prepared many of the bodies with arsenical soap and filled them with cotton. An enormous death’s-head moth flew in at the moment, and experienced the same fate. Moths, locusts, great beetles and cockroaches are prepared like small birds.
They say red locusts predict war, the others famine. The latter prediction is likely to prove true; the little rain that fell made the crops spring up, since which time the sun has killed the greater part of the young plants. All grain is very dear and the people are exclaiming, ‘We shall die if the rain does not fall.’
Famine, earthquakes, pestilence! What do these portend? Let us not sit in judgment man on man, or declare ‘The hand of God is on the earth, until one third of the wicked are swept away from the face of it (Revelation of St John).’
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A Rājput Rāna of high degree has pitched his tents in Alopee Bāgh: nineteen guns were fired in honour of his arrival. This great man has a numerous retinue: to bathe at the sacred junction of the rivers has brought him to Prāg. I drove a young lady through his encampment the other evening; many of his people came out of their tents and absolutely ran on by the side of our carriage, staring at us as if we were bāgh-siras (Grylli monstrosi) or animals as wonderful.
Their astonishment was great, occasioned most likely by the sight of unveiled ladies driving about. Passing through the encampment was a service of danger; it was difficult, in keeping clear of the teeth of the camels, not to run against a number of stalls where cakes and sugar were displayed for sale. No sight do I like better than a native encampment; the groups of strange-looking men, the Arab horses, the camels, elephants, and tents are charming. No country can furnish more or so many picturesque scenes as India
December 5th – People talk of wonderful storms of hail. I have just witnessed one so very severe that had I not seen it, I think I should scarcely have believed it. At ten at night a storm, accompanied by thunder and lightning, came on; the hail fell as thick as flakes of snow – I can scarcely call it hail, the pieces were ice-bolts. I brought in some which measured four inches and a half in circumference, and the ground was covered some inches deep; it appeared as if spread with a white sheet, when by the aid of the lightning one could see through the darkness around. The old peepal tree groaned most bitterly, the glass windows were all broken, the tobacco plants cut down, the great leaves from the young banyan tree were cut off and the small twigs from the mango and neem trees covered the ground like a green carpet. It was a fearful storm. The next morning for miles round you saw the effect of the hail, and in the bazaar at eight o’clock the children were playing marbles with the hailstones.
December 31st – I trust we have now become acclimated, for we have nearly passed through this year – the most fruitful in illness and death I recollect, both among civilians and soldiers – without much sickness. I have had fever and ague. My husband has suffered from acute rheumatism and the little pet terrier Fury has been delicate, but we are all now re-established. I am on horseback every morning rejoicing in the cold breezes, feeling as strong and full of spirit as the long-tailed grey that carries me; and Fury is chasing squirrels and ferrets and putting the farmyard to the rout.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE MUHARRAM
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The Muharram
MAY 19TH 1834 – The mourning festival of the Mohammedans in remembrance of their first martyrs, Hassan and Hussein, lasts ten days; on the last day the taziya, the model of the tomb of Hussein, is interred.
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The ceremony takes place annually on the first day of the moon (Muharram). Their year has twelve moons only, and they do not add a moon every third year, as some persons suppose.
The Imām-bāra is expressly built for commemorating the Muharram. In this building the taziya is placed facing Mecca, with the banners, the sword, the shield and the bow and arrows supposed to have been used in the battle of Karbala. The most magnificent taziyas remain in the Imām-bara. The less costly, which are used in the processions on the tenth day, are buried with funeral rites, in cemeteries named Karbala.
Although the taziya, the model of their Imām’s tomb at Karbala belongs, by right, only to the Shias, it is remarkable that many Sunis have taziyas, and also some Hindus. My cook, who was a Mug, used to expend sometimes as much as Rs 40 on a taziya of his own; and after having performed all the ceremonies like a good Musulmān returned to his original Hinduism, when he had placed his taziya in the burial-ground, accompanied by rice, corn, flowers, cups of water, etc.
But little or no attention is paid to the models of the taziya: they are of different forms, and of every variety of material, according to the wealth of the person who sets up this remembrance of Hussein. On the taziya is placed a small portion of corn, rice, bread, fruits, flowers, and cups of water; this is in accordance with the Musulmān funerals at which food is invariably conveyed to the tomb with the corpse.
The taziya displayed by the King of Oude during the Muharram is composed of green glass with ormolu or brass mouldings. Some are of ivory, ebony, sandalwood, cedar, etc. or of wrought filigree silver: those for the poor are of coloured talc.
In front of the taziya two standards are erected, between which are laid strings of the fresh flowers of the sweet-scented jasmine (bela); and a chaunrī, made of the tail of the yak fixed in a silver handle, is used to fan away the flies.
When the taziya is placed in the Imām-bāra, the face is turned to Mecca. The institution of carrying the taziya in procession first took place in the AH 352 at Baghdad, under Noez-od-Dowla Dhelmé, and is never omitted in Persia.
Hussein, on his favourite horse Dhul Dhul, was pierced by arrows without number; the animal shared the same fate, and the Sunni Musulmāns were the extirpators of all the race of Hussein, the son of Ali, with the exception of one infant son and the females of the family. This is the cause of the battles that so often take place between the Shias and the Sunnis (whom the former regard as an accursed race) at the annual celebration of the Muharram.
The usual arrangement of the procession is as follows: In the order of march the elephants first appear on which men are seated, displaying the consecrated banners crowned by the spread hand. The banners are of silk, embroidered in gold or silver. The spread hand on the top of them represents five: Muhammad, Fatima, Ali, Hassan, Hussein; the three fingers, the Caliphas Omar, Osman and Abubekr. The Sunnis favour the latter; the Shias uphold Imām Ali. The ends of the banners are fringed with bullion, and they are tied with cords of gold. Then follows the band, which is always in attendance and is composed of Arab music only.
The jilādār or sword-bearer carries a pole, from which two naked swords, each tipped with a lemon, are suspended from a bow reversed. The arrows are fixed in the centre. The sword bearer is generally dressed in green, the mourning colour of the Syuds. The standard-bearers and a band of musicians attend him, carrying the banner of Hassan and Hussein.
Some men, the mourners of the procession, bear long black poles on which are fixed very long streamers of black unspun silk which are intended to represent grief and despair.
The horse Dhul Dhul next appears: in the procession he sometimes bears a taziya, at other times he is caparisoned as if in readiness for his master. After the Muharram, the animal and all its attire are given to a poor Syud; the bloody horsecloth and the legs stained red are supposed to represent the sufferings of the animal. The tail and mane are dyed with mehndī or lakh dye. The horse is attended by a man carrying the āftāba, which is a sun embroidered on crimson velvet, affixed to the end of a long staff; and carried in an elevated position, in order to shelter a man of rank on horseback from the rays of the sun. Men
with chaunrīs attend to whisk away the flies from the horse: asā bardārs, men with long silver sticks, and sonta bardārs, with short silver tiger headed staffs, walk at the side, and running footmen (harkāras) are in attendance. An embroidered umbrella (chatr) is supported over the head of the horse.
In the cavalcade is a chaunter or reader; he repeats affecting passages descriptive of the death of Hussein, during which time the procession halts for a few minutes whilst the Musulmāns give way to the most frantic expressions of grief, beating their breasts with violence, throwing dust upon their heads, and exclaiming ‘Hassan! Hussein! Hassan! Hussein!’
The paīk, a fakīr, is a remarkable person, wearing the bow, arrows, sword, pankhā, and chaunrī of the martyred Imām. Some men in the procession carry censers, suspended by chains, which they wave about and perfume the air with the incense of a sweet-scented resin; rose-water, for sprinkling, is also carried in long-necked bottles, called gulāb-pāsh.
Then follows the taziya, attended by its proprietor, his relatives, and friends; it is surrounded by banners and covered by a canopy upheld by poles supported by men.
A taziya of shields and swords, each tipped with a lemon or an orange, is carried in procession and on it are suspended written petitions to Hassan and Hussein, and it is adorned with strings of freshly-gathered jasmine flowers.
The model of the tomb of Kāsim is the next object; it is covered with gold brocade and a canopy is supported over it, the poles carried by men. The palkee of his bride, Sakeena Koobar, follows the tomb; and her chandol, a sort of palanquin.
Then follow trays of mehndi, carried on the heads of men with presents, etc. such as are usually sent during the marriage ceremony, with flowers of ubruk.
The charkh-charkhī wālās are numerous; the charkhī is composed of ebony or any hard wood, about the size of a cricket ball, divided in halves. Each man has a pair; they are beaten in a particular manner on the flat surface so as to produce the sound of horses galloping; and where some fifty or one hundred men are engaged in the performance the imitation is excellent.
The females during the battle were perishing of thirst; Abbās, the brother of Hussein and his standard-bearer, made great efforts to procure water for them, in doing which the former was severely wounded.
Hence the bihishtī with his mashk; and, in remembrance of this event, sherbets are also distributed gratis, in red earthen cups, from temporary sheds; abdār khānas, as they call them by the roadside. The awnings of these sheds are reared on poles, and they are lighted by lamps made of ubruk or of the skeleton leaves of the peepal tree. The bihishtī bears the standard of Hassan and Hussein.
The camels carrying the tent equipage and luggage of Hussein represent the style of his march from Medina to Karbala. Sometimes, in pictures, a small taziya is drawn on the back of a camel and the animal is represented as issuing from a rocky pass.
Barkandāz attend and fire their matchlocks singly and at intervals during the march.
Great sums are expended in charity during this mourning festival, and food is always distributed by the richer taziyadārs during the ten days.
The procession is closed by several elephants and men seated upon them distribute food and money to the poor.
Natives of all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, walk on the tenth day with their heads uncovered, and without slippers, to the Karbala, whatever may be the distance; and they fast until the third watch has passed, refraining from the huqqa or from drinking water. At the Karbala the funeral ceremony is performed, and the taziya is committed to the grave with a solemnity equal to that which is observed when their dead are deposited in the tomb. The native ladies within the walls of the zenāna keep the fast with the greatest strictness, and observe all the ceremonies of the Muharram.
A religious man will neither ride nor wear shoes during the Muharram; and a pious Musulmān will neither eat nor drink out of a silver or a gold vessel.
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The lamps, which are made of ubruk (talc), or of the skeleton leaves of the peepal tree, and lighted up in the houses of the faithful at this time, are beautifully made.
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An alligator, seven feet in length, was caught in the Jumna below our house, a few days ago; I had it prepared with arsenical soap, stuffed and set out in the verandah, where it grins in hideous beauty, nailed down upon the carpenter’s large table, where it will remain until it stiffens into proper form.
My cabinet of curiosities and fondness of horrors ensured many a strange present from absent friends. A small military party were dispatched to capture a mud fort; on reaching the spot no enemy was to be discovered; they entered with all due precaution against ambush; an enormous tiger in a cage was the sole occupant. The tiger was sent down by boat to me – the first prize of the campaign; on my refusal to accept the animal, he was forwarded to the accoutrement-maker of the officer, in Calcutta, in liquidation of his account! The tiger was sold at length to an American captain for Rs 250, which just or very nearly paid the expenses of boat-hire, servants, meat, etc., contracted on the tiger’s account. Such changes in his way of life must have puzzled his philosophy; the capture, the Ganges and sea voyage ending in North America, will give him a queer idea of the best of all possible worlds; but he well deserves it, being a cruel, treacherous, blood-thirsty brute.
My eccentric friend also wrote to say he had at length procured for me an offering after my own heart, an enormous boa constrictor, perfectly tame, so domestic and sweet tempered that at meals it would cross the room, displaying, as it advanced with undulating motion, its bright-striped and spotted skin, until having gained your chair, it would coil its mazy folds around you and, tenderly putting its head over your shoulder, eat from your hand!
I was greatly tempted to accept this unique offering. They tell us mankind has a natural antipathy to a snake; an antipathy I never shared. I have killed them as venomous reptiles, but have a great fancy for them as beautiful ones. No child dislikes snakes until it is taught to fear them.
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June 1st – I have scarcely energy enough to write; an easterly wind renders the tattīs useless; the thermometer at 93°! The damp air renders me so heavy and listless, it is an exertion either to eat or drink and it is almost impossible to sleep, on account of the heat. At seven o’clock I take a drive through the burning air and come in parched and faint, eager for the only comfort during the twenty-four hours, a glass of English home-made blackcurrant wine, well iced, in a tumbler of well-iced soda water; the greatest luxury imaginable.
I have not heard from home for six months, heartsick with hope deferred. These tardy ships! Will the steam communication ever be established?
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CHAPTER XXVII
WHITE ANTS AND COLD MORNINGS FOR HUNTING
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AUGUST 1834 – Last month we were unlucky in the farmyard; forty-seven fat sheep and well-fatted lambs died of smallpox; a very great loss, as to fatten sheep on gram for two or three years makes them very expensive; it is remarkable that none of the goats, although living in the same house, were attacked.
This morning three musk-deer, prepared and stuffed, were shown to me; they are a present for Runjeet Singh and are now en route from Nepal. The men had also a number of musk bags for the Lion of the Punjab. The hair of the musk-deer is curious stuff, like hog’s bristles; and their two tusks are like those of the walrus. Buffon gives an admirable description of this animal. Some time ago a musk-bag was given me as a curiosity; the scent is extremely powerful. The musk-deer is rare and very valuable.
August 9th – This is a holiday, the nāg-panchamī, on which day the Hindus worship a snake to procure blessing on their children; of course, none of the carpenters or the other workmen have made their appearance. The other day, a gentleman who is staying with us went into his bathing-room to take a bath; the evening was very dark and, as he lifted a ghāra (an earthen vessel) to pour the water over his head, he heard a hissing sound among the water-
pots and, calling for a light, saw a great cobra de capello. ‘Look at that snake!’ said he to his bearer, in a tone of surprise. ‘Yes, sāhib,’ replied the Hindu, with the utmost apathy, ‘he has been there a great many days, and gives us much trouble!’
September 11th – We purchased a very fine pinnace that an officer had brought up the river and named her Seagull. She is as large as a very good yacht; it will be pleasant to visit those ghāts on the Ganges and Jumna, during the cold weather, that are under the sāhib’s control. The vessel is a fine one, and the natives say, ‘She goes before the wind like an arrow from a bow.’
The city of Allahabad, considered as a native one, is handsome. There are but few pukka houses. The rich merchants in the East make no display, and generally live under bamboo and straw. The roads through the city are very good, with rows of fine trees on each side; the drives around are numerous and excellent. There is also a very handsome sarāy (caravansary), and a bā’olī, a large well, worthy a visit. The tomb and garden of Sultān Khusrau are fine; a description of them will be given hereafter. The fort was built by Akbar in 1581, at the junction of the Ganges and Jumna. Within the fort, near the principal gateway, an enormous pillar is prostrate; the unknown characters inscribed upon it are a marvel and a mystery to the learned, who as yet have been unable to translate them. The bazaar at Allahabad is famous for old coins.
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October 7th – Yesterday being the Hindu festival of the Dewalī, a great illumination was made for my amusement; our house, the gardens, the well, the pinnace on the river below the bank of the garden, the old peepal tree and my bower were lighted up with hundreds of little lamps. My bower on the banks of the Junma-ji, which is quite as beautiful as the ‘bower of roses by Bendameer’s stream’, must be described.