The French notables live in mansions built on stockaded plots of a couple of bighas in the middle of their estates, which are cultivated with the help of a hundred or so male and female slaves. Oranges, Indian corn and vegetables are grown for the market. One half of the proceeds goes to the landlord, the other half is divided among the slaves. These slaves are brought as adolescents from Bengal, Malabar, the Deccan and other regions and sold for fifty to sixty rupees each. The wealthy Mauritians eat fine wheat and rice imported from Bengal, Malabar or Europe, and the poor natives live on Indian corn, the only grain produced on the island. They also pound a radish-like root plant into flour and bake bread with it. I found it utterly insipid — neither sweet nor sour not salty nor bitter.
With the help of my lascar acquaintances, who acted as my interpreters, I purchased mangoes, watermelons, cucumbers, musk-melons and several other varieties of fruits peculiar to the Bengali summer. The mangoes weighed from half to one pound, were free of fibres and had an excellent flavour. There was one species of mango rarely seen in Bengal, green on the outside, blue inside, firm of flesh and sweet to taste. The small, thin-skinned lime, kagazi nimboo, and the red chilli grow wild in the hills and are picked by the poor and sold in the bazaar. Copper coins and cowries are not used in Mauritius, but there is a paper currency in denominations ranging from one to 100 rupees, which is the sole medium of exchange.
The air is humid, rainfall heavy, and soil sandy; consequently mud houses are impractical. Houses here are entirely of wood, and built on stilts one or two cubits high. The walls are of wooden planks and the roofs, grass or straw being rare, are made of planks overlapping like tiles and are fixed in place with iron nails. Not a drop of rainwater can get through. These houses will stand without any repairs for fifty to 100 years. As they are on stilts they can be easily put on wheels and transported to another site. Mauritius is difficult of access. Coastal hills deny landing to ships except in the east, where the island’s only harbour is situated. Even this has to be approached by a six-mile-long channel, which is quite hazardous. Those unfamiliar with its course may find it well nigh impossible to negotiate. So it is hardly surprising that it is the only French island in this region that the British failed to take during the recent war between the two countries. An English force under Captain Weatherburn launched a number of attacks on it, without success.
It is reported that the Portuguese were the island’s first colonizers, but they found it so heavily infested with snakes, serpents, scorpions and other noxious creatures that they were soon forced to abandon it. After them the French moved in and had better luck. French priests, using a kind of necromancy, caught the dangerous creatures, took them out to sea and drowned them. Since then there is no sign of them on the island. Of course, Allah alone knows how far the story is true. Fish abound in the waters around the island and are caught by the islanders with hook, spear and net. A few species resemble Bengali fish, though they aren’t exactly the same. One is like the anabas, but with a wider mouth; another resembled our puti. It too had a wide mouth. It was also attractively coloured (white, with red spots) and was excellent to taste. Other fish resembled the kholisa and the boal, and these too were quite good to eat. The day after we landed in Mauritius a violent cyclone struck. For three days the wind raged and rain fell in torrents. Two heavily laden French merchantmen dragged anchor and were wrecked on the treacherous rocks to the east of the harbour. Our ship was also driven in that direction and was run foul of by a Spanish man-of-war. We suffered serious damage, but thanks to Allah’s mercy and the efforts of our sailors we returned safely to our anchorage. One of our outer planks broke, causing a huge leak, and a couple of telescopes mounted on the top deck were smashed. This necessitated time-consuming repairs, which is why we had to spend so many days there.
Among the vessels wrecked in this storm was a French ship that had started with us from Hooghly; it was caught in the storm before it could reach Mauritius and was swept far and wrecked. Later, when we neared the Cape, we saw its wreckage. If the storm had caught us in the high sea, our fate would have been the same. We thanked Allah for saving us from such an end. Mercifully there were no more storms of such severity, nor any other misfortune, till we reached Europe. One day Captain Swinton and Mr Peacock, another passenger, said to me jokingly, “It is owing to the presence of your prosperous foot that we have survived the danger.” They were referring to the belief in lucky feet, which, like the belief in the evil eye, is prevalent among Muslim and Hindu Indians alike. I replied, “I am an impure creature from whom no advantage will come. It is owing to the mercy of Allah the Preserver that his servants aboard this ship are safe and can hope to see green fields once again.”
On our way to Mauritius we had passed by many interesting islands and coasts on the Indian Ocean. To the south-east of Bengal there is a Portuguese island called Batavia, whose inhabitants include Muslims, Dutchmen, Englishmen and dark-complexioned natives, besides Portuguese colonists. Chillies, pepper, cinnamon, cardamom and other spices grow in abundance here, as also do varieties of fruits. Farther in the same direction, about two months’ journey from Bengal, is an island which is a part of the Chinese kingdom and is famous for its Chinaware.
Pegu and Malacca
These are populous countries lying to the south-east of Bengal at a distance of half a month’s voyage. Tahir Mohammed, an emir at the court of Badshah Akbar, during a long stint as ambassador to the court of Adil Shah, Sultan of Bijapur in the Deccan, wrote a book called the Rowza-t-ut-fahereen, or Garden of the Immaculate, where there are accounts of all the countries in the region, including Pegu. According to Tahir, in former times the people of Pegu had no religion and were ignorant of the distinction between right and wrong, the lawful and the forbidden. Among them went a Sayyid — a descendant of the Prophet Mohammed — from Bengal. He introduced these people to Islam in the following manner. He was in the habit of reciting loudly and mellifluously from the Koran. The natives were charmed by the recitation and began gathering regularly to listen to him. Gradually they started emulating his religious practices — praying, fasting, giving the azan, or call to prayer — and were soon received into Islam. At the request of native leaders, the Sayyid became their imam and king, that is, both their religious and secular chief. To this day his descendants are the nobles among the population of Pegu, who still follow Islam. Tahir narrates an extraordinary tale, well known in Bengal, about this Sayyid. He is said to have captured a fairy, who lived with him for seven years and bore him children. But at last the fairy’s true nature triumphed. She became faithless and, deserting husband and children, returned to her native realm.
Translated from Persian by Kaiser Haq
PHILLIS WHEATLEY
A Farewell to America
I.
Adieu, New-England’s smiling meads,
Adieu, th’ flow’ry plain:
I leave thine op’ning charms, O spring,
And tempt the roaring main.
II.
In vain for me the flow’rets rise,
And boast their gaudy pride,
While here beneath the northern skies
I mourn for health deny’d.
III.
Celestial maid of rosy hue,
Oh let me feel thy reign!
I languish till thy face I view,
Thy vanish’d joys regain.
IV.
Susannah mourns, nor can I bear
To see the crystal shower
Or mark the tender falling tear
At sad departure’s hour;
V.
Not regarding can I see
Her soul with grief opprest
But let no sighs, no groans for me
Steal from her pensive breast.
VI.
In vain the feather’d warblers sing
In vain the garden blooms
And on the bosom of the spring
Breathes out her sweet perfumes.
VII.
While for Britannia’s distant shore
We weep the liquid plain,
And with astonish’d eyes explore
The wide-extended main.
VIII.
Lo! Health appears! celestial dame!
Complacent and serene,
With Hebe’s mantle o’er her frame,
With soul-delighting mien.
IX.
To mark the vale where London lies
With misty vapors crown’d
Which cloud Aurora’s thousand dyes,
And veil her charms around.
X.
Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow?
So slow thy rising ray?
Give us the famous town to view,
Thou glorious King of day!
XI.
For thee, Britannia, I resign
New-England’s smiling fields;
To view again her charms divine,
What joy the prospect yields!
XII.
But thou! Temptation hence away,
With all thy fatal train,
Nor once seduce my soul away,
By thine enchanting strain.
XIII.
Thrice happy they, whose heavenly shield
Secures their souls from harm,
And fell Temptation on the field
Of all its pow’r disarms.
FRANCIS BAILY
The First Discoverer of Kentucky
Sunday, the 9th of April — we started by daylight. We had observed a canoe ahead of us the preceding day, and for the sake of company wished we could have overtaken it; but as the person who was in it did not seem disposed to stop for us, we soon lost sight of him, as he proceeded along much faster than we. However, this morning we observed the same vessel behind us, and in a short time it came alongside. It contained but one old man, accompanied by his dog and his gun, and a few things lying at the bottom of the canoe. We called to him to come into our boat, which he accordingly did; and after a little conversation, our guest proved to be old Colonel Boon, the first discoverer of the now flourishing state of Kentucky. I was extremely happy in having an opportunity of conversing with the hero of so many adventures, a relation of which is drawn up and published in Imlay’s A Topographical Description of the Western Territory of North America. Happening to have this account by me, I read it over to him, and he confirmed all that was there related of him. I could observe the old man’s face brighten up at the mention of any of those transactions in which he had taken so active a part; and upon my adverting particularly to his adventure in August 1778, with the Indians at Boonsborough (a considerable town, so called from the remarkableness of the transaction, and the fame of its founder,) where they, with most barefaced deceit, endeavoured to take him and his men prisoners, he entered upon the subject with all the minuteness imaginable, and as descriptively as if it had recently happened. He then made us follow him in his narration, — how he was taken prisoner by the Indians, and carried a tour round the lakes with them; and the old man interspersed his tale with many a pleasing anecdote and interesting observation. He took (in truly an Indian style) a drop of water, and on a board he marked out the whole course of his travels; and, though I showed him a map, he continued on, after barely looking at it, and would not be diverted from the one which he had formed with his own finger. Upon asking him whether it did not give him a secret satisfaction to behold a province (in the discovery and settlement of which he held so conspicuous part) rise from a desert wilderness, and at once to flourish in arts and sciences and the conveniences of life, in all the maturity of old age, he shook his head, and with a significant frown, said they were got too proud; and then began to enter into the disadvantages of great improvements of society. I easily conceived his meaning, and soon found that he was one of that class of men who, from nature and habit, was nearly allied in disposition and manners to an Indian, and may be ranked under those who form the first class of settlers in a country. He said he had a great deal of land given him on the first settlement of the country; but that when societies began to form around him, he moved off, and divided his lands among his relations, unwilling (as he expressed himself) to live among men who were shackled in their habits, and would not enjoy uncontrolled the free blessings which nature had bestowed upon them. Since this time, he told me he had spent his time a great deal on the frontiers; and at this present moment he said he was going to hunt for beavers in some unfrequented corner of the woods, where undisturbed he might pursue this amusement, and enjoy the pleasures arising from a secluded and solitary life.
MARY SHELLEY
Voltaire
One day, dining at the table of the duke de Sully, one of his warmest friends, Voltaire was treated impertinently by the chevalier de Rohan, a man of high birth, but disreputable character. The chevalier asked, Who he was? Voltaire replied that he did not inherit a great name, but would never dishonour that which he bore. The chevalier angrily left the room, and took his revenge by causing him to be seized and struck with a cane by his servants. Such were the prejudices then existent in the minds of the French noblesse, that though the duke de Sully esteemed and even loved Voltaire, and held the chevalier de Rohan in contempt, yet the bourgeois birth of the former, and noble blood of the latter, caused him to show himself perfectly indifferent to the insult. Voltaire resolved to avenge himself. He secluded himself from all society, and practised fencing carefully. As soon as he considered himself a match for his enemy, he sought him out at the opera, and demanded satisfaction. The chevalier appointed time and place for a duel, and then acquainted his family. The consequence was, the instant arrest of his antagonist, and his imprisonment for six months in the Bastille; to which was added the further injustice of an order of exile after his liberation from prison. Voltaire took this opportunity to visit England. He had been acquainted with lady Bolingbroke in France. He appreciated the talents of the illustrious Englishman, admired his various knowledge, and was fascinated by the charms of his conversation. Although he never appears to have at all understood the real foundations of English liberty, yet he appreciated its effects, especially at a moment when he was suffering so grievously from an act of despotism. Liberty of thought was in his eyes a blessing superior to every other. He read the works of Locke with enthusiasm; and while he lamented that such disquisitions were not tolerated in France, he became eager to impart to his countrymen the new range of ideas he acquired from the perusal. The discoveries of Newton also attracted his attention. He exchanged the frivolities of Paris for serious philosophy. He became aware that freedom from prejudice and the acquirement of knowledge were not mere luxuries intended for the few, but a blessing for the many; to confer and extend which was the duty of the enlightened. From that moment he resolved to turn his chief endeavours to liberate his country from priestly thraldom and antique prejudices. He felt his powers; his industry was equal to his wit, and enabled him to use a vast variety of literary weapons. What his countrymen deemed poetry, the drama, history, philosophy, and all slighter compositions, animated by wit and fancy, were put in use by turns for this great end. He published his Henriade while in England. It was better received than it deserved; and the profits he gained were the foundation of his future opulence. He wrote the tragedy of Brutus, in which he imagined that he developed a truly republican spirit, and a love of liberty worthy of the Romans.
He spent three years in exile. He became eager to return to his country, to his friends, and to a public which naturally understood him better, and could sympathise more truly with him than the English. He ventured over to Paris. For a time his return was known only to a few friends, and he resided in an obscure quarter of the capital. By degrees he took courage; and the success of various tragedies which he brought out raised him high in public favour, and promised greater security for the future. He was regarded as the pride of France by the majority of his countrymen. The priesthood — accustomed to persecute on the most frivolous pretexts of difference of opinion — who had exci
ted Louis XIV to banish the Jansenists and suppress their convents — to exile the virtuous Fénélon — to massacre the Huguenots, who had long wielded religion as a weapon of offence and destruction, and had risen to a bad height of power by its misuse — held him in the sincerest hatred; while his attacks, excited by, and founded on, their crimes, unveiled to the world a scene which, had it not been rife with human suffering, had been worthy only of ridicule. A couplet in Oedipus first awakened their suspicion and hatred: “Nos prêtres ne sont point ce qu’un vain peuple pense, / Notre credulité fait tout leur science.”1 From that moment they lay in wait to crush him. It needed all his prudence to evade the effects of their enmity.
1 “Priests aren’t what we assume them to be / Their artfulness lies in our credulity.”
EMMA LAZARUS
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The Heart of a Stranger Page 7