Begums, Thugs and White Mughals

by Fanny Parkes

  As you approach Benares, on the left bank of the river stands the house of the Rājā of Benares, a good portly looking building. The appearance of the Holy City from the river is very curious and particularly interesting. The steep cliff on which Benares is built is covered with Hindu temples and ghāts of all sizes and descriptions; the first ghāt, built by Appa Sāhib from Poona, I thought handsome; but every ghāt was eclipsed by the beauty of the one which is now being built by her Highness the Bāiza Bāī; the scale is so grand, so beautiful, so light, and it is on so regular a plan, it delighted me; it is the handsomest ghāt I have seen in India; unfinished as it is, it has cost her Highness fifteen lakh; to finish it will cost twenty lakh more; should she die ere the work be completed it will never be finished, it being deemed unlucky to finish the work of a deceased person. The money, to the amount of thirty-seven lakh, which the Bāī had stored in her house at Benares to complete the ghāt and to feed the Brahmāns, whose allowance was Rs 200, i.e. £20 a day, has been seized by the Government and put into the Company’s treasury, where it will remain until the point now in dispute is settled; that is, whether it belong to the Bāī or to her adopted son, the present Mahārāj of Gwalior, who forced her out of the kingdom. Several Hindu temples are near this ghāt; a cluster of beauty. Two chirāghdāns, which are lighted up on festivals, are curious and pretty objects; their effect, when glittering at night with thousands of little lamps, must be beautiful, reflected with the temples and crowds of worshippers on the waters below; and great picturesque beauty is added to the scene by the grotesque and curious houses jutting out from the cliff, based on the flights of stone steps which form the ghāts. How I wished I could have seen Benares from the river during the Dewalī, or Festival of Lights! At sunset we went up the Minarets, built by Aurangzeb; they are considered remarkably beautiful, towering over the Hindu temples; a record of the Muhammadan conquest.

  On my return to my budjerow, a number of native merchants were in waiting hoping to dispose of their goods to the strangers; they had boxes full of Benares turbans, shawls, gold and silver dresses, kimkhwāb and cloth of gold. This place is famous for its embroidery in gold, and for its tissues of gold and silver. I purchased some to make a native dress for myself, and also some very stiff ribbon, worked in silk and gold, on which are the names of all the Hindu deities; the Hindus wear them round their necks; they are holy, and called junéoo. The English mare and my little black horse met me here, en route to Calcutta.

  The Bāiza Bāī told me by no means to pass Benares without visiting her ghāt and her house; some of her people having come down to the river, I returned with them to see the house; it is very curiously situated in the heart of the city. Only imagine how narrow the street is which leads up to it; as I sat in my palanquin, I could touch both the sides of the street by stretching my arms out, which I did to assure myself of its extreme narrowness. All the houses in this street are five or six storeys high. We stopped at the house of the Bāī; it is six storeys high and was bought by her Highness as a place in which to secure her treasure. It is difficult to describe a regular Hindu house such as this, which consists of four walls, within and around which the rooms are built storey above storey; but from the foundation to the top of the house there is a square in the centre left open, so that the house encloses a small square court open to the sky above, around which the rooms are built with projecting platforms on which the women may sit, and eat the air as the natives call it, within the walls of their residence. I clambered up the narrow and deep stone stairs, storey after storey, until I arrived at the top of the house the view from which was unique: several houses in the neighbourhood appeared much higher than the one on which I was standing, which was six storeys high. The Mahratta who did the honours on the part of her Highness took me into one of the rooms and showed me the two chests of cast iron, which formerly contained about eighteen thousand gold mohurs. The Government took that money from the Bāī by force and put it into their treasury. Her Highness refused to give up the keys and also refused her sanction to the removal of the money from her house; the locks of the iron chests were driven in and the tops broken open; the rupees were in bags in the room; the total of the money removed amounted to thirty-seven lakh. Another room was full of copper coins; another of cowries. The latter will become mouldy and fall into dust in the course of time. One of the gentlemen of the party went over the house with me and saw what I have described. Atr and pān were presented, after which we took our leave and proceeded to the marketplace. The braziers’ shops were open but they refused to sell anything, it being one of the holidays on which no worker in brass is allowed to sell goods.

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  August 19th – The hour was too early, and but few shops were open, which gave a dull look to this generally crowded and busy city.

  The air is cool and pleasant; we float gently down the river; this quiet, composed sort of life, with a new scene every day, is one of great enjoyment.

  I must not forget to mention that, after a considerable lapse of time, the treasure that was detained by the Government on behalf of the young Mahārāj of Gwalior, was restored to her Highness the Bāiza Bāī.

  CHAPTER XLIII

  FROM GHAZIPUR TO BALLIA

  NOVEMBER 21ST 1836 – Arrived early at Ghāzipur, the town of Ghāzī, also called, as the Hindus assert, Gādhpūr, from Gādh, a Rājā of that name. We went on shore to view the tomb of a former Governor-General, the Marquis Cornwallis, who lies buried here, aged sixty-seven. The sarcophagus is within a circular building surmounted by a dome, and surrounded by a verandah; it is of white marble, with appropriate figures in half relief by Flaxman. In front is a bust of the Marquis; the coronet and cushion surmount it; the iron railings are remarkably handsome and appropriate; the whole is surrounded by a plantation of fine young trees, and kept in excellent order; in front is a pedestal intended, I should imagine, for a statue of the Marquis. The view from the building is open and pretty; it is situated in the cantonment on the banks of the Ganges. There are four figures in mourning attitudes on the tomb, in half relief; that of a Brahman is well executed. The pukka houses of the European residents at Ghāzipur, stretching along the river’s side, have pleasing effect.

  The ruins of the palace of the Nawāb of Ghāzipur are situated on a high bank, in front of which the rampart, with four bastions, faces the river. The house is falling into ruins. I admired it very much, the plan on which it is built is charming; what a luxurious abode during the hot winds! It is situated on a high bank overlooking the Ganges; in the centre is an octagonal room; around this, four square rooms alternate with four octagonal rooms which are supported on light and handsome arches. There are no walls to the rooms, but each is supported on arches. Around the centre room is a space for water, and a great number of fountains played there in former times. Between the arches hung rich pardas; how delightfully suited to the climate! Imagine the luxury of sitting in the centre room, all the air coming in cooled by the fountains and screened from the glare by the rich pardas! One of the octagonal rooms has fallen in completely. A gentleman of our party, not finding any game in the surrounding fields, shot five anwarī fish that were sporting about on the surface of the river. Rosewater and cloth was brought for sale in abundance. The fields by the riverside are in parts a perfect Golgotha, strewn with human skulls. The Company’s stud is here, but we did not visit it.

  Off the village of Beerpūr I saw from ten to twenty satī mounds, under some large trees by the riverside; the idea of what those wretched women must have suffered made me shudder.

  Off Chounsah I was most thoroughly disgusted; there is on the bank of the river a murda ghāt, or place for burning the dead bodies of the Hindus; about twenty chārpāīs (native beds) were there cast away as unclean, the bodies having been carried down upon them. Some of the bodies had hardly been touched by the fire, just scorched and thrown into the water. The dogs and crows were tearing the flesh from the skeletons, growling as they ate to deter other dogs that
stood snarling around from joining in the meal. A gentleman fired at them, drove off some of the dogs and killed others; you have no idea how fierce and hungry the wretches were; a bullet from a musket only scared them for a moment and then they returned to the corpse. I was glad to get beyond the murda ghāt; the sight and smell of such horrors made me ill.

  Anchored at Buxar and visited the stud; the only stable I went into was a most admirable one, lofty, airy, ventilated, clean, and spacious. It contained two hundred horses, all looking clean and in excellent condition; the horses in this stable are all three years old, remarkably fine young animals. You may have the choice of the stable for £100, Rs 1,000; these horses ought to be good, they come from the best imported English, Arab and Persian horses and are reared with great care. The animals stand in a long line without any separation or bar between them in the stable; the head is tied to the manger, the heels at liberty, no heel-ropes. They appear perfectly quiet although they stand so close to each other. About six hundred horses are at Buxar, and more on the other side of the river; I derived much pleasure from seeing the stud at this place and regret I did not visit that at Ghāzipur. Every day, from seven o’clock to eight, the whole of the young horses are turned loose into a paddock, to run and gallop about at pleasure; it must be a pretty sight.

  November 23rd – The melā at Ballia is held on this day, the last of the month of Kartik. The scene for five miles was very gay; a great Hindu fair and bathing day; boats full of people going to the fair, numbers on the cliff, and crowds in the river at their devotions – an animated scene. The gentlemen are firing ball at the great crocodiles as they lie basking on the sandbanks; they have killed a very large one. When crocodiles are cut open, silver and gold ornaments are sometimes found in the interior; the body of a child – the whole body – was found in a crocodile, a short time ago, at Cawnpore.

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  CHAPTER XLIV

  SKETCHES IN BENGAL – THE SUNDERBANDS

  DECEMBER 9TH 1836 – Arrived at Jungipūr, where a toll was levied of Rs 6 on my bajrā, usually called budjerow, and Rs 2 on the cook boat – a tax for keeping open a deep channel in the river. During the hour we anchored there and the servants were on shore for provisions, I was much amused watching the women bathing; they wade into the stream, wash their dresses, and put them on again all wet as they stand in the water; wash their hair and their bodies, retaining all the time some part of their drapery which assumes the most classical appearance. They wear their hair fastened behind in the Grecian fashion, large silver nose-rings, a great number of white ivory bracelets (churis) on their arms, with a pair of very large silver bangles on the wrists, and massive ornaments of silver on their ankles; their drapery white with, perhaps, an edge of some gay colour; bright brass vessels for water (gāgrī) or of porous red earthenware (gharā), in which they carry back the river water to their dwellings. Having bathed, they repeat their prayers with their hands palm to palm raised to their faces, and turning in pooja to particular points. After sipping the water a certain number of times, taking it up in their hands, they trip away in their wet drapery which dries as they walk. The skin of the women in Bengal is of a better tinge than that of the up-country women; they are small, well-formed and particularly graceful in their movements.

  December 10th – The Bhaugruttī, as you approach Moorshadabad is remarkably picturesque, and presents a thousand views that would make beautiful sketches. At this moment we are passing the Nawāb’s residence, or rather the palace that is building for him; it is situated on the side of the river, which presents a beautiful expanse of water, covered with vessels of all sorts and sizes, of the most oriental and picturesque form. A fine breeze is blowing, and the vessels on every side and all around me are in every sort of picturesque and beautiful position. The palace, which is almost quite completed, is a noble building, an enormous and grand mass of architecture reared under the superintendence of Colonel Macleod.

  The mor-pankhī, a kind of pleasure boat, with the long neck and head of a peacock, most richly gilt and painted, and the snake boats, used on days of festival, are fairy-like, picturesque, fanciful and very singular. Pinnaces for hire are here in numbers. The merchant-boats built at this place are of peculiar and beautiful form, as if the builder had studied both effect and swiftness; the small boats, over which rafts are fastened to float down wood; the fishermen’s little vessels, that appear almost too small and fragile to support the men, and which fly along impelled only by one oar; the well-wooded banks, the mosques, and the mut’hs (Hindu temples), mixed with curiously built native houses – all unite in forming a scene of peculiar beauty. Kāsim Bazaar adjoins Moorshadabad; both are famous for silk of every sort. In the evening we anchored at Berhampūr; the budgerow was instantly crowded with people bringing carved ivory toys, chessmen, elephants, etc., for sale, and silk merchants with handkerchiefs and Berhampūr silk in abundance; all asking more than double the price they intended to take. Four more dāndis having deserted, I have been obliged to apply to the Judge Sāhib to procure other men.

  The most delicious oranges have been procured here, the rinds fine and thin, the flavour excellent; the natives call them ‘cintra’; most likely they were introduced by the Portuguese. The station extends along the side of the river, which is well banked and offers a cool and refreshing evening walk to the residents. I was tempted to buy some of the carved ivory chessmen, an elephant, etc. all very cheap and well carved in good ivory; nor could I resist some silk nets for the horses.

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  December 15th – This evening we anchored at Chandar-nagar, the town of Chandar, the moon, commonly called Chandar-nagore, and took a walk to see a Bengāli temple which looked well from the river. The building consisted of a temple in the centre containing an image of the goddess Kalī, and five smaller temples on each side, each containing an image of Mahadēo; a little further on were two images, gaily dressed in tarnished silk and tinsel; the one a female figure, Unapurna, the other Mahadēo, as a Bairāgī or religious mendicant. The village was pretty. I stopped at a fisherman’s to look at the curiously-shaped floats he used for his very large and heavy fishing nets; each float was formed of eight pieces of sholā, tied together by the ends, the four smaller within the four larger. When this light and spongy pith is wetted, it can be cut into thin layers which, pasted together, are formed into hats; Chinese paper appears to be made of the same material. The banks of the river, the whole distance from Hoogly to Chinsurah and Chandar-nagar, presents a view of fine houses situated in good gardens and interspersed with the dwellings of the natives. There is a church at Chandar-nagar where there are also cantonments; and the grand depôt for the wood from the up-country rafts appears to be at this place; the riverside was completely covered with timber for some distance. The natives were amusing themselves as we passed, sending up small fire balloons and brilliantly blue sky rockets.

  The view is beautiful at Barrackpūr; the fine trees of the park stretching along the side of the river; the bright green turf that slopes gently down to the water; the number of handsome houses with their lawns and gardens; the Government-house and the buildings around it, stuccoed to resemble white stone; the handsome verandahs which surround the houses, supported by pillars; and the great number of boats gliding about render it peculiarly pleasing.

  In front, on the opposite side of the river, is the Danish settlement of Serampūr; its houses, which are large and handsome, are two or three storeys high. We are floating gently down with the tide; I can scarcely write, the scenery attracts me so much – the Bengali mandaps (places of worship) close to the water, the fine trees of every description and the pretty stone ghāts. We have just passed a ruined ghāt, situated in the midst of fine old trees; at the top of the flight of steps are the ruins of two Hindu temples of picturesque form; an old peepal tree overshadows them; its twisted roots are exposed, the earth having been washed away during the rains. A number of women are bathing, others carrying water away in gharās poised on their hea
ds: the men take it away in water vessels which are hung to either end of a split bamboo, called a bahangī, which is carried balanced on the shoulder. We fly past the objects with the ebbing tide; what an infinity of beauty there is in all the native boats! Could my pencil do justice to the scenery, how valuable would be my sketchbook!

  The Governor-General, Lord Auckland, lives partly in Calcutta and partly at the Government-house at Barrackpūr. At Cassipūr is the house of the agent for gunpowder, its white pillars half-hidden by fine trees. At Chitpore is a high, red, Birmingham-looking, long-chimnied building with another in the same style near it; the high chimneys of the latter emitting a dark volume of smoke such as one only sees in this country pouring from the black funnel of a steamer: corn is here ground in the English fashion, and oil extracted from divers seeds. The establishment cost a great sum of money and I think I have heard it has failed, owing to each native family in India grinding their own corn in the old original fashion of one flat circular millstone over another, called a chakkī.

  From this point I first caught a view of the shipping off Calcutta: for ten years I had not beheld an English vessel: how it made me long for a glimpse of all the dear ones in England! ‘The desire of the garden never leaves the heart of the nightingale.’

  Passing through the different vessels that crowd the Hoogly off Calcutta gave me great pleasure; the fine merchant-ships, the gay, well-trimmed American vessels, the grotesque forms of the Arab ships, the Chinese vessels with an eye on each side the bows to enable the vessel to see her way across the deep waters, the native vessels in all their fanciful and picturesque forms, the pleasure-boats of private gentlemen, the beautiful private residences in Chowringhee, the Government-house, the crowds of people and vehicles of all descriptions, both European and Asiatic, form a scene of beauty of which I know not the equal.