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diff --git a/old/orig2895-h/p6.htm b/old/orig2895-h/p6.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 3831dc9..0000000 --- a/old/orig2895-h/p6.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3291 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> -<html> -<head> -<title>FOLLOWING THE EQUATOR, Part 6</title> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> - - - -<style type="text/css"> - <!-- - body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; - margin-top: .75em; - margin-bottom: .75em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } - HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } - blockquote {font-size: 97% } - .figleft {float: left;} - .figright {float: right;} - .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} - CENTER { padding: 10px;} - --> -</style> - - - -</head> -<body> - - -<center> -<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> -<tr><td> - <a href="p5.htm">Previous Part</a> -</td><td> - <a href="2895-h.htm">Main Index</a> -</td><td> - <a href="p7.htm">Next Part</a> - -</td></tr> -</table> -</center> - -<br><br><br><br> - -<center> - - - <h1>FOLLOWING</h1> - <h1>THE EQUATOR</h1> - <br><br><br> - <h3>Part 6.</h3> - <br><br><br> - - <h2>A JOURNEY AROUND THE WORLD</h2> - <h2>BY</h2> - <h2>MARK TWAIN</h2> - <br><br><br> - <h3>SAMUEL L. CLEMENS</h3> - <h3>HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT</h3> - - -</center> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (131K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="918" width="650"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="bookspine.jpg (70K)" src="images/bookspine.jpg" height="918" width="265"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="booktitle.jpg (53K)" src="images/booktitle.jpg" height="1051" width="619"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="bookfront.jpg (50K)" src="images/bookfront.jpg" height="978" width="650"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="bookdedicate.jpg (13K)" src="images/bookdedicate.jpg" height="329" width="575"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="bookmaxim.jpg (16K)" src="images/bookmaxim.jpg" height="367" width="627"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - - - -<br><br><br><br> - - <center><h2>CONTENTS OF PART 6</h2></center> - -<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> -<h3><a href="#ch51">CHAPTER LI.</a></h3> -<p> -Benares a Religious Temple—A Guide for Pilgrims to Save Time in Securing -Salvation - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch52">CHAPTER LII.</a></h3> -<p> -A Curious Way to Secure Salvation—The Banks of the Ganges—Architecture -Represents Piety—A Trip on the River—Bathers and their -Costumes—Drinking the Water—A Scientific Test of the Nasty Purifier—Hindoo Faith -in the Ganges—A Cremation—Remembrances of the Suttee—All Life Sacred -Except Human Life—The Goddess Bhowanee, and the Sacrificers—Sacred -Monkeys—Ugly Idols Everywhere—Two White Minarets—A Great View with a -Monkey in it—A Picture on the Water - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch53">CHAPTER LIII.</a></h3> -<p> -Still in Benares—Another Living God—Why Things are Wonderful—Sri 108 -Utterly Perfect—How He Came so—Our Visit to Sri—A Friendly Deity -Exchanging Autographs and Books—Sri's Pupil—An Interesting -Man—Reverence and Irreverence—Dancing in a Sepulchre - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch54">CHAPTER LIV.</a></h3> -<p> -Rail to Calcutta—Population—The "City of Palaces"—A Fluted -Candle-stick—Ochterlony—Newspaper Correspondence—Average Knowledge of -Countries—A Wrong Idea of Chicago—Calcutta and the Black -Hole—Description of the Horrors—Those Who Lived—The Botanical Gardens—The -Afternoon Turnout—Grand Review—Military Tournament—Excursion on the -Hoogly—The Museum—What Winter Means in Calcutta - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch55">CHAPTER LV.</a></h3> -<p> -On the Road Again—Flannels in Order—Across Country—From Greenland's -Icy Mountain—Swapping Civilization—No Field women in India—How it is -in Other Countries—Canvas-covered Cars—The Tiger Country—My First Hunt—Some Wild Elephants Get Away—The Plains of India—The Ghurkas—Women for -Pack-Horses—A Substitute for a Cab—Darjeeling—The Hotel—The Highest -Thing in the Himalayas—The Club—Kinchinjunga and Mt. -Everest—Thibetans—The Prayer Wheel—People Going to the Bazar - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch56">CHAPTER LVI.</a></h3> -<p> -On the Road Again—The Hand-Car—A Thirty-five-mile Slide—The Banyan -Tree—A Dramatic Performance—The Railroad Loop—The Half-way House—The Brain -Fever Bird—The Coppersmith Bird—Nightingales and Cue Owls - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch57">CHAPTER LVII.</a></h3> -<p> -India the Most Extraordinary Country on Earth—Nothing Forgotten—The -Land of Wonders—Annual Statistics Everywhere about Violence—Tiger vs. -Man—A Handsome Fight—Annual Man Killing and Tiger Killing—Other -Animals—Snakes—Insurance and Snake Tables—The Cobra -Bite—Muzaffurpore—Dinapore—A Train that Stopped for Gossip—Six Hours for Thirty-five -Miles—A Rupee to the Engineer—Ninety Miles an Hour—Again to Benares, -the Piety Hive—To Lucknow - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch58">CHAPTER LVIII.</a></h3> -<p> -The Great Mutiny—The Massacre in Cawnpore—Terrible Scenes in -Lucknow—The Residency—The Siege - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch59">CHAPTER LIX.</a></h3> -<p> -A Visit to the Residency—Cawnpore—The Adjutant Bird and the Hindoo -Corpse—The Taj Mahal—The True Conception—The Ice Storm—True -Gems—Syrian Fountains—An Exaggerated Niagara - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch60">CHAPTER LX.</a></h3> -<p> -To Lahore—The Governor's Elephant—Taking a Ride—No Danger from -Collision—Rawal Pindi—Back to Delhi—An Orientalized -Englishman—Monkeys and the Paint-pot—Monkey Crying over my Note-book—Arrival at -Jeypore—In Rajputana—Watching Servants—The Jeypore Hotel—Our Old and -New Satan—Satan as a Liar—The Museum—A Street Show—Blocks of -Houses—A Religious Procession - -</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><hr> -<br> -<br><br><br> - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch51"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LI.</h2> - -<p><i>Let me make the superstitions of a nation and I care not who makes its -laws or its songs either.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>Yes, the city of Benares is in effect just a big church, a religious -hive, whose every cell is a temple, a shrine or a mosque, and whose every -conceivable earthly and heavenly good is procurable under one roof, so to -speak—a sort of Army and Navy Stores, theologically stocked. - -<p>I will make out a little itinerary for the pilgrim; then you will see how -handy the system is, how convenient, how comprehensive. If you go to -Benares with a serious desire to spiritually benefit yourself, you will -find it valuable. I got some of the facts from conversations with the -Rev. Mr. Parker and the others from his Guide to Benares; they are -therefore trustworthy. - -<p>1. Purification. At sunrise you must go down to the Ganges and bathe, -pray, and drink some of the water. This is for your general -purification. - -<p>2. Protection against Hunger. Next, you must fortify yourself against -the sorrowful earthly ill just named. This you will do by worshiping for -a moment in the Cow Temple. By the door of it you will find an image of -Ganesh, son of Shiva; it has the head of an elephant on a human body; its -face and hands are of silver. You will worship it a little, and pass on, -into a covered veranda, where you will find devotees reciting from the -sacred books, with the help of instructors. In this place are groups of -rude and dismal idols. You may contribute something for their support; -then pass into the temple, a grim and stenchy place, for it is populous -with sacred cows and with beggars. You will give something to the -beggars, and "reverently kiss the tails" of such cows as pass along, for -these cows are peculiarly holy, and this act of worship will secure you -from hunger for the day. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p485.jpg (10K)" src="images/p485.jpg" height="318" width="420"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>3. "The Poor Man's Friend." You will next worship this god. He is at -the bottom of a stone cistern in the temple of Dalbhyeswar, under the -shade of a noble peepul tree on the bluff overlooking the Ganges, so you -must go back to the river. The Poor Man's Friend is the god of material -prosperity in general, and the god of the rain in particular. You will -secure material prosperity, or both, by worshiping him. He is Shiva, -under a new alias, and he abides in the bottom of that cistern, in the -form of a stone lingam. You pour Ganges water over him, and in return -for this homage you get the promised benefits. If there is any delay -about the rain, you must pour water in until the cistern is full; the -rain will then be sure to come. - -<p>4. Fever. At the Kedar Ghat you will find a long flight of stone steps -leading down to the river. Half way down is a tank filled with sewage. -Drink as much of it as you want. It is for fever. - -<p>5. Smallpox. Go straight from there to the central Ghat. At its -upstream end you will find a small whitewashed building, which is a -temple sacred to Sitala, goddess of smallpox. Her under-study is -there—a rude human figure behind a brass screen. You will worship this for -reasons to be furnished presently. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p487.jpg (37K)" src="images/p487.jpg" height="907" width="555"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>6. The Well of Fate. For certain reasons you will next go and do homage -at this well. You will find it in the Dandpan Temple, in the city. The -sunlight falls into it from a square hole in the masonry above. You will -approach it with awe, for your life is now at stake. You will bend over -and look. If the fates are propitious, you will see your face pictured -in the water far down in the well. If matters have been otherwise -ordered, a sudden cloud will mask the sun and you will see nothing. This -means that you have not six months to live. If you are already at the -point of death, your circumstances are now serious. There is no time to -lose. Let this world go, arrange for the next one. Handily situated, at -your very elbow, is opportunity for this. You turn and worship the image -of Maha Kal, the Great Fate, and happiness in the life to come is -secured. If there is breath in your body yet, you should now make an -effort to get a further lease of the present life. You have a chance. -There is a chance for everything in this admirably stocked and -wonderfully systemized Spiritual and Temporal Army and Navy Store. You -must get yourself carried to the - -<p>7. Well of Long Life. This is within the precincts of the mouldering and -venerable Briddhkal Temple, which is one of the oldest in Benares. You -pass in by a stone image of the monkey god, Hanuman, and there, among the -ruined courtyards, you will find a shallow pool of stagnant sewage. It -smells like the best limburger cheese, and is filthy with the washings of -rotting lepers, but that is nothing, bathe in it; bathe in it gratefully -and worshipfully, for this is the Fountain of Youth; these are the Waters -of Long Life. Your gray hairs will disappear, and with them your -wrinkles and your rheumatism, the burdens of care and the weariness of -age, and you will come out young, fresh, elastic, and full of eagerness -for the new race of life. Now will come flooding upon you the manifold -desires that haunt the dear dreams of the morning of life. You will go -whither you will find - -<p>8. Fulfillment of Desire. To wit, to the Kameshwar Temple, sacred to -Shiva as the Lord of Desires. Arrange for yours there. And if you like -to look at idols among the pack and jam of temples, there you will find -enough to stock a museum. You will begin to commit sins now with a -fresh, new vivacity; therefore, it will be well to go frequently to a -place where you can get - -<p>9. Temporary Cleansing from Sin. To wit, to the Well of the Earring. -You must approach this with the profoundest reverence, for it is -unutterably sacred. It is, indeed, the most sacred place in Benares, the -very Holy of Holies, in the estimation of the people. It is a railed -tank, with stone stairways leading down to the water. The water is not -clean. Of course it could not be, for people are always bathing in it. -As long as you choose to stand and look, you will see the files of -sinners descending and ascending—descending soiled with sin, ascending -purged from it. "The liar, the thief, the murderer, and the adulterer -may here wash and be clean," says the Rev. Mr. Parker, in his book. Very -well. I know Mr. Parker, and I believe it; but if anybody else had said -it, I should consider him a person who had better go down in the tank and -take another wash. The god Vishnu dug this tank. He had nothing to dig -with but his "discus." I do not know what a discus is, but I know it is a -poor thing to dig tanks with, because, by the time this one was finished, -it was full of sweat—Vishnu's sweat. He constructed the site that -Benares stands on, and afterward built the globe around it, and thought -nothing of it, yet sweated like that over a little thing like this tank. -One of these statements is doubtful. I do not know which one it is, but -I think it difficult not to believe that a god who could build a world -around Benares would not be intelligent enough to build it around the -tank too, and not have to dig it. Youth, long life, temporary -purification from sin, salvation through propitiation of the Great -Fate—these are all good. But you must do something more. You must - -<p>10. Make Salvation Sure. There are several ways. To get drowned in -the Ganges is one, but that is not pleasant. To die within the limits of -Benares is another; but that is a risky one, because you might be out of -town when your time came. The best one of all is the Pilgrimage Around -the City. You must walk; also, you must go barefoot. The tramp is -forty-four miles, for the road winds out into the country a piece, and -you will be marching five or six days. But you will have plenty of -company. You will move with throngs and hosts of happy pilgrims whose -radiant costumes will make the spectacle beautiful and whose glad songs -and holy pans of triumph will banish your fatigues and cheer your spirit; -and at intervals there will be temples where you may sleep and be -refreshed with food. The pilgrimage completed, you have purchased -salvation, and paid for it. But you may not get it unless you - -<p>11. Get Your Redemption Recorded. You can get this done at the Sakhi -Binayak Temple, and it is best to do it, for otherwise you might not be -able to prove that you had made the pilgrimage in case the matter should -some day come to be disputed. That temple is in a lane back of the Cow -Temple. Over the door is a red image of Ganesh of the elephant head, son -and heir of Shiva, and Prince of Wales to the Theological Monarchy, so to -speak. Within is a god whose office it is to record your pilgrimage and -be responsible for you. You will not see him, but you will see a Brahmin -who will attend to the matter and take the money. If he should forget to -collect the money, you can remind him. <i>He</i> knows that your salvation is -now secure, but of course you would like to know it yourself. You have -nothing to do but go and pray, and pay at the - -<p>12. Well of the Knowledge of Salvation. It is close to the Golden -Temple. There you will see, sculptured out of a single piece of black -marble, a bull which is much larger than any living bull you have ever -seen, and yet is not a good likeness after all. And there also you will -see a very uncommon thing—an image of Shiva. You have seen his lingam -fifty thousand times already, but this is Shiva himself, and said to be a -good likeness. It has three eyes. He is the only god in the firm that -has three. "The well is covered by a fine canopy of stone supported by -forty pillars," and around it you will find what you have already seen at -almost every shrine you have visited in Benares, a mob of devout and -eager pilgrims. The sacred water is being ladled out to them; with it -comes to them the knowledge, clear, thrilling, absolute, that they are -saved; and you can see by their faces that there is one happiness in this -world which is supreme, and to which no other joy is comparable. You -receive your water, you make your deposit, and now what more would you -have? Gold, diamonds, power, fame? All in a single moment these things -have withered to dirt, dust, ashes. The world has nothing to give you -now. For you it is bankrupt. - -<p>I do not claim that the pilgrims do their acts of worship in the order -and sequence above charted out in this Itinerary of mine, but I think -logic suggests that they ought to do so. Instead of a helter-skelter -worship, we then have a definite starting-place, and a march which -carries the pilgrim steadily forward by reasoned and logical progression -to a definite goal. Thus, his Ganges bath in the early morning gives him -an appetite; he kisses the cow-tails, and that removes it. It is now -business hours, and longings for material prosperity rise in his mind, -and he goes and pours water over Shiva's symbol; this insures the -prosperity, but also brings on a rain, which gives him a fever. Then he -drinks the sewage at the Kedar Ghat to cure the fever; it cures the fever -but gives him the smallpox. He wishes to know how it is going to turn -out; he goes to the Dandpan Temple and looks down the well. A clouded -sun shows him that death is near. Logically his best course for the -present, since he cannot tell at what moment he may die, is to secure a -happy hereafter; this he does, through the agency of the Great Fate. He -is safe, now, for heaven; his next move will naturally be to keep out of -it as long as he can. Therefore he goes to the Briddhkal Temple and -secures Youth and long life by bathing in a puddle of leper-pus which -would kill a microbe. Logically, Youth has re-equipped him for sin and -with the disposition to commit it; he will naturally go to the fane which -is consecrated to the Fulfillment of Desires, and make arrangements. -Logically, he will now go to the Well of the Earring from time to time to -unload and freshen up for further banned enjoyments. But first and last -and all the time he is human, and therefore in his reflective intervals -he will always be speculating in "futures." He will make the Great -Pilgrimage around the city and so make his salvation absolutely sure; he -will also have record made of it, so that it may remain absolutely sure -and not be forgotten or repudiated in the confusion of the Final -Settlement. Logically, also, he will wish to have satisfying and -tranquilizing personal knowledge that that salvation is secure; therefore -he goes to the Well of the Knowledge of Salvation, adds that completing -detail, and then goes about his affairs serene and content; serene and -content, for he is now royally endowed with an advantage which no -religion in this world could give him but his own; for henceforth he may -commit as many million sins as he wants to and nothing can come of it. - -<p>Thus the system, properly and logically ordered, is neat, compact, -clearly defined, and covers the whole ground. I desire to recommend it -to such as find the other systems too difficult, exacting, and irksome -for the uses of this fretful brief life of ours. - -<p>However, let me not deceive any one. My Itinerary lacks a detail. I -must put it in. The truth is, that after the pilgrim has faithfully -followed the requirements of the Itinerary through to the end and has -secured his salvation and also the personal knowledge of that fact, there -is still an accident possible to him which can annul the whole thing. If -he should ever cross to the other side of the Ganges and get caught out -and die there he would at once come to life again in the form of an ass. -Think of that, after all this trouble and expense. You see how -capricious and uncertain salvation is there. The Hindoo has a childish -and unreasoning aversion to being turned into an ass. It is hard to tell -why. One could properly expect an ass to have an aversion to being -turned into a Hindoo. One could understand that he could lose dignity by -it; also self-respect, and nine-tenths of his intelligence. But the -Hindoo changed into an ass wouldn't lose anything, unless you count his -religion. And he would gain much—release from his slavery to two -million gods and twenty million priests, fakeers, holy mendicants, and -other sacred bacilli; he would escape the Hindoo hell; he would also -escape the Hindoo heaven. These are advantages which the Hindoo ought to -consider; then he would go over and die on the other side. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p493.jpg (18K)" src="images/p493.jpg" height="343" width="547"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Benares is a religious Vesuvius. In its bowels the theological forces -have been heaving and tossing, rumbling, thundering and quaking, boiling, -and weltering and flaming and smoking for ages. But a little group of -missionaries have taken post at its base, and they have hopes. There are -the Baptist Missionary Society, the Church Missionary Society, the London -Missionary Society, the Wesleyan Missionary Society, and the Zenana Bible -and Medical Mission. They have schools, and the principal work seems to -be among the children. And no doubt that part of the work prospers best, -for grown people everywhere are always likely to cling to the religion -they were brought up in. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p495.jpg (48K)" src="images/p495.jpg" height="425" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p495.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch52"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LII.</h2> - -<p><i>Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>In one of those Benares temples we saw a devotee working for salvation in -a curious way. He had a huge wad of clay beside him and was making it up -into little wee gods no bigger than carpet tacks. He stuck a grain of -rice into each—to represent the lingam, I think. He turned them out -nimbly, for he had had long practice and had acquired great facility. -Every day he made 2,000 gods, then threw them into the holy Ganges. This -act of homage brought him the profound homage of the pious—also their -coppers. He had a sure living here, and was earning a high place in the -hereafter. - -<p>The Ganges front is the supreme show-place of Benares. Its tall bluffs -are solidly caked from water to summit, along a stretch of three miles, -with a splendid jumble of massive and picturesque masonry, a bewildering -and beautiful confusion of stone platforms, temples, stair-flights, rich -and stately palaces—nowhere a break, nowhere a glimpse of the bluff -itself; all the long face of it is compactly walled from sight by this -crammed perspective of platforms, soaring stairways, sculptured temples, -majestic palaces, softening away into the distances; and there is -movement, motion, human life everywhere, and brilliantly -costumed—streaming in rainbows up and down the lofty stairways, and massed in -metaphorical flower-gardens on the miles of great platforms at the -river's edge. - -<p>All this masonry, all this architecture represents piety. The palaces -were built by native princes whose homes, as a rule, are far from -Benares, but who go there from time to time to refresh their souls with -the sight and touch of the Ganges, the river of their idolatry. The -stairways are records of acts of piety; the crowd of costly little -temples are tokens of money spent by rich men for present credit and hope -of future reward. Apparently, the rich Christian who spends large sums -upon his religion is conspicuous with us, by his rarity, but the rich -Hindoo who doesn't spend large sums upon his religion is seemingly -non-existent. With us the poor spend money on their religion, but they keep -back some to live on. Apparently, in India, the poor bankrupt themselves -daily for their religion. The rich Hindoo can afford his pious outlays; -he gets much glory for his spendings, yet keeps back a sufficiency of his -income for temporal purposes; but the poor Hindoo is entitled to -compassion, for his spendings keep him poor, yet get him no glory. - -<p>We made the usual trip up and down the river, seated in chairs under an -awning on the deck of the usual commodious hand-propelled ark; made it -two or three times, and could have made it with increasing interest and -enjoyment many times more; for, of course, the palaces and temples would -grow more and more beautiful every time one saw them, for that happens -with all such things; also, I think one would not get tired of the -bathers, nor their costumes, nor of their ingenuities in getting out of -them and into them again without exposing too much bronze, nor of their -devotional gesticulations and absorbed bead-tellings. - -<p>But I should get tired of seeing them wash their mouths with that -dreadful water and drink it. In fact, I did get tired of it, and very -early, too. At one place where we halted for a while, the foul gush from -a sewer was making the water turbid and murky all around, and there was a -random corpse slopping around in it that had floated down from up -country. Ten steps below that place stood a crowd of men, women, and -comely young maidens waist deep in the water-and they were scooping it up -in their hands and drinking it. Faith can certainly do wonders, and this -is an instance of it. Those people were not drinking that fearful stuff -to assuage thirst, but in order to purify their souls and the interior of -their bodies. According to their creed, the Ganges water makes -everything pure that it touches—instantly and utterly pure. The sewer -water was not an offence to them, the corpse did not revolt them; the -sacred water had touched both, and both were now snow-pure, and could -defile no one. The memory of that sight will always stay by me; but not -by request. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p498.jpg (57K)" src="images/p498.jpg" height="555" width="835"> -</center> -<a href="images/p498.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>A word further concerning the nasty but all-purifying Ganges water. When -we went to Agra, by and by, we happened there just in time to be in at -the birth of a marvel—a memorable scientific discovery—the discovery -that in certain ways the foul and derided Ganges water is the most -puissant purifier in the world! This curious fact, as I have said, had -just been added to the treasury of modern science. It had long been -noted as a strange thing that while Benares is often afflicted with the -cholera she does not spread it beyond her borders. This could not be -accounted for. Mr. Henkin, the scientist in the employ of the government -of Agra, concluded to examine the water. He went to Benares and made his -tests. He got water at the mouths of the sewers where they empty into -the river at the bathing ghats; a cubic centimetre of it contained -millions of germs; at the end of six hours they were all dead. He caught -a floating corpse, towed it to the shore, and from beside it he dipped up -water that was swarming with cholera germs; at the end of six hours they -were all dead. He added swarm after swarm of cholera germs to this -water; within the six hours they always died, to the last sample. -Repeatedly, he took pure well water which was barren of animal life, and -put into it a few cholera germs; they always began to propagate at once, -and always within six hours they swarmed—and were numberable by millions -upon millions. - -<p>For ages and ages the Hindoos have had absolute faith that the water of -the Ganges was absolutely pure, could not be defiled by any contact -whatsoever, and infallibly made pure and clean whatsoever thing touched -it. They still believe it, and that is why they bathe in it and drink -it, caring nothing for its seeming filthiness and the floating corpses. -The Hindoos have been laughed at, these many generations, but the -laughter will need to modify itself a little from now on. How did they -find out the water's secret in those ancient ages? Had they -germ-scientists then? We do not know. We only know that they had a -civilization long before we emerged from savagery. But to return to -where I was before; I was about to speak of the burning-ghat. - -<p>They do not burn fakeers—those revered mendicants. They are so holy -that they can get to their place without that sacrament, provided they be -consigned to the consecrating river. We saw one carried to mid-stream -and thrown overboard. He was sandwiched between two great slabs of -stone. - -<p>We lay off the cremation-ghat half an hour and saw nine corpses burned. -I should not wish to see any more of it, unless I might select the -parties. The mourners follow the bier through the town and down to the -ghat; then the bier-bearers deliver the body to some low-caste -natives—Doms—and the mourners turn about and go back home. I heard no crying -and saw no tears, there was no ceremony of parting. Apparently, these -expressions of grief and affection are reserved for the privacy of the -home. The dead women came draped in red, the men in white. They are -laid in the water at the river's edge while the pyre is being prepared. - -<p>The first subject was a man. When the Doms unswathed him to wash him, he -proved to be a sturdily built, well-nourished and handsome old gentleman, -with not a sign about him to suggest that he had ever been ill. Dry wood -was brought and built up into a loose pile; the corpse was laid upon it -and covered over with fuel. Then a naked holy man who was sitting on -high ground a little distance away began to talk and shout with great -energy, and he kept up this noise right along. It may have been the -funeral sermon, and probably was. I forgot to say that one of the -mourners remained behind when the others went away. This was the dead -man's son, a boy of ten or twelve, brown and handsome, grave and -self-possessed, and clothed in flowing white. He was there to burn his -father. He was given a torch, and while he slowly walked seven times -around the pyre the naked black man on the high ground poured out his -sermon more clamorously than ever. The seventh circuit completed, the -boy applied the torch at his father's head, then at his feet; the flames -sprang briskly up with a sharp crackling noise, and the lad went away. -Hindoos do not want daughters, because their weddings make such a ruinous -expense; but they want sons, so that at death they may have honorable -exit from the world; and there is no honor equal to the honor of having -one's pyre lighted by one's son. The father who dies sonless is in a -grievous situation indeed, and is pitied. Life being uncertain, the -Hindoo marries while he is still a boy, in the hope that he will have a -son ready when the day of his need shall come. But if he have no son, he -will adopt one. This answers every purpose. - -<p>Meantime the corpse is burning, also several others. It is a dismal -business. The stokers did not sit down in idleness, but moved briskly -about, punching up the fires with long poles, and now and then adding -fuel. Sometimes they hoisted the half of a skeleton into the air, then -slammed it down and beat it with the pole, breaking it up so that it -would burn better. They hoisted skulls up in the same way and banged and -battered them. The sight was hard to bear; it would have been harder if -the mourners had stayed to witness it. I had but a moderate desire to -see a cremation, so it was soon satisfied. For sanitary reasons it would -be well if cremation were universal; but this form is revolting, and not -to be recommended. - -<p>The fire used is sacred, of course—for there is money in it. Ordinary -fire is forbidden; there is no money in it. I was told that this sacred -fire is all furnished by one person, and that he has a monopoly of it and -charges a good price for it. Sometimes a rich mourner pays a thousand -rupees for it. To get to paradise from India is an expensive thing. -Every detail connected with the matter costs something, and helps to -fatten a priest. I suppose it is quite safe to conclude that that -fire-bug is in holy orders. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p501.jpg (16K)" src="images/p501.jpg" height="501" width="327"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Close to the cremation-ground stand a few time-worn stones which are -remembrances of the suttee. Each has a rough carving upon it, -representing a man and a woman standing or walking hand in hand, and -marks the spot where a widow went to her death by fire in the days when -the suttee flourished. Mr. Parker said that widows would burn themselves -now if the government would allow it. The family that can point to one -of these little memorials and say: "She who burned herself there was an -ancestress of ours," is envied. - -<p>It is a curious people. With them, all life seems to be sacred except -human life. Even the life of vermin is sacred, and must not be taken. -The good Jain wipes off a seat before using it, lest he cause the death -of-some valueless insect by sitting down on it. It grieves him to have -to drink water, because the provisions in his stomach may not agree with -the microbes. Yet India invented Thuggery and the Suttee. India is a -hard country to understand. We went to the temple of the Thug goddess, -Bhowanee, or Kali, or Durga. She has these names and others. She is the -only god to whom living sacrifices are made. Goats are sacrificed to -her. Monkeys would be cheaper. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p503.jpg (72K)" src="images/p503.jpg" height="1045" width="609"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>There are plenty of them about the -place. Being sacred, they make themselves very free, and scramble around -wherever they please. The temple and its porch are beautifully carved, -but this is not the case with the idol. Bhowanee is not pleasant to look -at. She has a silver face, and a projecting swollen tongue painted a -deep red. She wears a necklace of skulls. - -<p>In fact, none of the idols in Benares are handsome or attractive. And -what a swarm of them there is! The town is a vast museum of idols—and -all of them crude, misshapen, and ugly. They flock through one's dreams -at night, a wild mob of nightmares. When you get tired of them in the -temples and take a trip on the river, you find idol giants, flashily -painted, stretched out side by side on the shore. And apparently -wherever there is room for one more lingam, a lingam is there. If Vishnu -had foreseen what his town was going to be, he would have called it -Idolville or Lingamburg. - -<p>The most conspicuous feature of Benares is the pair of slender white -minarets which tower like masts from the great Mosque of Aurangzeb. They -seem to be always in sight, from everywhere, those airy, graceful, -inspiring things. But masts is not the right word, for masts have a -perceptible taper, while these minarets have not. They are 142 feet -high, and only 8 1/2 feet in diameter at the base, and 7 1/2 at the -summit—scarcely any taper at all. These are the proportions of a -candle; and fair and fairylike candles these are. Will be, anyway, some -day, when the Christians inherit them and top them with the electric -light. There is a great view from up there—a wonderful view. A large -gray monkey was part of it, and damaged it. A monkey has no judgment. -This one was skipping about the upper great heights of the -mosque—skipping across empty yawning intervals which were almost too wide for -him, and which he only just barely cleared, each time, by the skin of his -teeth. He got me so nervous that I couldn't look at the view. I -couldn't look at anything but him. Every time he went sailing over one -of those abysses my breath stood still, and when he grabbed for the perch -he was going for, I grabbed too, in sympathy. And he was perfectly -indifferent, perfectly unconcerned, and I did all the panting myself. -He came within an ace of losing his life a dozen times, and I was so -troubled about him that I would have shot him if I had had anything to do -it with. But I strongly recommend the view. There is more monkey than -view, and there is always going to be more monkey while that idiot -survives, but what view you get is superb. All Benares, the river, and -the region round about are spread before you. Take a gun, and look at -the view. - -<p>The next thing I saw was more reposeful. It was a new kind of art. It -was a picture painted on water. It was done by a native. He sprinkled -fine dust of various colors on the still surface of a basin of water, and -out of these sprinklings a dainty and pretty picture gradually grew, a -picture which a breath could destroy. Somehow it was impressive, after -so much browsing among massive and battered and decaying fanes that rest -upon ruins, and those ruins upon still other ruins, and those upon still -others again. It was a sermon, an allegory, a symbol of Instability. -Those creations in stone were only a kind of water pictures, after all. - -<p>A prominent episode in the Indian career of Warren Hastings had Benares -for its theater. Wherever that extraordinary man set his foot, he left -his mark. He came to Benares in 1781 to collect a fine of L500,000 which -he had levied upon its Rajah, Cheit Singh, on behalf of the East India -Company. Hastings was a long way from home and help. There were, -probably, not a dozen Englishmen within reach; the Rajah was in his fort -with his myriads around him. But no matter. From his little camp in a -neighboring garden, Hastings sent a party to arrest the sovereign. He -sent on this daring mission a couple of hundred native soldiers— -sepoys—under command of three young English lieutenants. The Rajah submitted -without a word. The incident lights up the Indian situation -electrically, and gives one a vivid sense of the strides which the -English had made and the mastership they had acquired in the land since -the date of Clive's great victory. In a quarter of a century, from being -nobodies, and feared by none, they were become confessed lords and -masters, feared by all, sovereigns included, and served by all, -sovereigns included. It makes the fairy tales sound true. The English -had not been afraid to enlist native soldiers to fight against their own -people and keep them obedient. And now Hastings was not afraid to come -away out to this remote place with a handful of such soldiers and send -them to arrest a native sovereign. - -<p>The lieutenants imprisoned the Rajah in his own fort. It was beautiful, -the pluckiness of it, the impudence of it. The arrest enraged the -Rajah's people, and all Benares came storming about the place and -threatening vengeance. And yet, but for an accident, nothing important -would have resulted, perhaps. The mob found out a most strange thing, an -almost incredible thing—that this handful of soldiers had come on this -hardy errand with empty guns and no ammunition. This has been attributed -to thoughtlessness, but it could hardly have been that, for in such large -emergencies as this, intelligent people do think. It must have been -indifference, an over-confidence born of the proved submissiveness of the -native character, when confronted by even one or two stern Britons in -their war paint. But, however that may be, it was a fatal discovery that -the mob had made. They were full of courage, now, and they broke into -the fort and massacred the helpless soldiers and their officers. -Hastings escaped from Benares by night and got safely away, leaving the -principality in a state of wild insurrection; but he was back again -within the month, and quieted it down in his prompt and virile way, and -took the Rajah's throne away from him and gave it to another man. He was -a capable kind of person was Warren Hastings. This was the only time he -was ever out of ammunition. Some of his acts have left stains upon his -name which can never be washed away, but he saved to England the Indian -Empire, and that was the best service that was ever done to the Indians -themselves, those wretched heirs of a hundred centuries of pitiless -oppression and abuse. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch53"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LIII.</h2> - -<p><i>True irreverence is disrespect for another man's god.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>It was in Benares that I saw another living god. That makes two. -I believe I have seen most of the greater and lesser wonders of the -world, but I do not remember that any of them interested me so -overwhelmingly as did that pair of gods. - -<p>When I try to account for this effect I find no difficulty about it. -I find that, as a rule, when a thing is a wonder to us it is not because -of what we see in it, but because of what others have seen in it. We get -almost all our wonders at second hand. We are eager to see any -celebrated thing—and we never fail of our reward; just the deep -privilege of gazing upon an object which has stirred the enthusiasm or -evoked the reverence or affection or admiration of multitudes of our race -is a thing which we value; we are profoundly glad that we have seen it, -we are permanently enriched from having seen it, we would not part with -the memory of that experience for a great price. And yet that very -spectacle may be the Taj. You cannot keep your enthusiasms down, you -cannot keep your emotions within bounds when that soaring bubble of -marble breaks upon your view. But these are not your enthusiasms and -emotions—they are the accumulated emotions and enthusiasms of a thousand -fervid writers, who have been slowly and steadily storing them up in your -heart day by day and year by year all your life; and now they burst out -in a flood and overwhelm you; and you could not be a whit happier if they -were your very own. By and by you sober down, and then you perceive that -you have been drunk on the smell of somebody else's cork. For ever and -ever the memory of my distant first glimpse of the Taj will compensate me -for creeping around the globe to have that great privilege. - -<p>But the Taj—with all your inflation of delusive emotions, acquired at -second-hand from people to whom in the majority of cases they were also -delusions acquired at second-hand—a thing which you fortunately did not -think of or it might have made you doubtful of what you imagined were -your own what is the Taj as a marvel, a spectacle and an uplifting and -overpowering wonder, compared with a living, breathing, speaking -personage whom several millions of human beings devoutly and sincerely -and unquestioningly believe to be a God, and humbly and gratefully -worship as a God? - -<p>He was sixty years old when I saw him. He is called Sri 108 Swami -Bhaskarananda Saraswati. That is one form of it. I think that that is -what you would call him in speaking to him—because it is short. But you -would use more of his name in addressing a letter to him; courtesy would -require this. Even then you would not have to use all of it, but only -this much: - -<p>Sri 108 Matparamahansrzpairivrajakacharyaswamibhaskaranandasaraswati. - -<p>You do not put "Esq." after it, for that is not necessary. The word -which opens the volley is itself a title of honor "Sri." The "108" -stands for the rest of his names, I believe. Vishnu has 108 names which -he does not use in business, and no doubt it is a custom of gods and a -privilege sacred to their order to keep 108 extra ones in stock. Just -the restricted name set down above is a handsome property, without the -108. By my count it has 58 letters in it. This removes the long German -words from competition; they are permanently out of the race. - -<p>Sri 108 S. B. Saraswati has attained to what among the Hindoos is called -the "state of perfection." It is a state which other Hindoos reach by -being born again and again, and over and over again into this world, -through one re-incarnation after another—a tiresome long job covering -centuries and decades of centuries, and one that is full of risks, too, -like the accident of dying on the wrong side of the Ganges some time or -other and waking up in the form of an ass, with a fresh start necessary -and the numerous trips to be made all over again. But in reaching -perfection, Sri 108 S. B. S. has escaped all that. He is no longer a -part or a feature of this world; his substance has changed, all -earthiness has departed out of it; he is utterly holy, utterly pure; -nothing can desecrate this holiness or stain this purity; he is no longer -of the earth, its concerns are matters foreign to him, its pains and -griefs and troubles cannot reach him. When he dies, Nirvana is his; he -will be absorbed into the substance of the Supreme Deity and be at peace -forever. - -<p>The Hindoo Scriptures point out how this state is to be reached, but it -is only once in a thousand years, perhaps, that candidate accomplishes -it. This one has traversed the course required, stage by stage, from the -beginning to the end, and now has nothing left to do but wait for the -call which shall release him from a world in which he has now no part nor -lot. First, he passed through the student stage, and became learned in -the holy books. Next he became citizen, householder, husband, and -father. That was the required second stage. Then—like John Bunyan's -Christian he bade perpetual good-bye to his family, as required, and went -wandering away. He went far into the desert and served a term as hermit. -Next, he became a beggar, "in accordance with the rites laid down in the -Scriptures," and wandered about India eating the bread of mendicancy. A -quarter of a century ago he reached the stage of purity. This needs no -garment; its symbol is nudity; he discarded the waist-cloth which he had -previously worn. He could resume it now if he chose, for neither that -nor any other contact can defile him; but he does not choose. - -<p>There are several other stages, I believe, but I do not remember what -they are. But he has been through them. Throughout the long course he -was perfecting himself in holy learning, and writing commentaries upon -the sacred books. He was also meditating upon Brahma, and he does that -now. - -<p>White marble relief-portraits of him are sold all about India. He lives -in a good house in a noble great garden in Benares, all meet and proper -to his stupendous rank. Necessarily he does not go abroad in the -streets. Deities would never be able to move about handily in any -country. If one whom we recognized and adored as a god should go abroad -in our streets, and the day it was to happen were known, all traffic -would be blocked and business would come to a standstill. - -<p>This god is comfortably housed, and yet modestly, all things considered, -for if he wanted to live in a palace he would only need to speak and his -worshipers would gladly build it. Sometimes he sees devotees for a -moment, and comforts them and blesses them, and they kiss his feet and go -away happy. Rank is nothing to him, he being a god. To him all men are -alike. He sees whom he pleases and denies himself to whom he pleases. -Sometimes he sees a prince and denies himself to a pauper; at other times -he receives the pauper and turns the prince away. However, he does not -receive many of either class. He has to husband his time for his -meditations. I think he would receive Rev. Mr. Parker at any time. I -think he is sorry for Mr. Parker, and I think Mr. Parker is sorry for -him; and no doubt this compassion is good for both of them. - -<p>When we arrived we had to stand around in the garden a little while and -wait, and the outlook was not good, for he had been turning away -Maharajas that day and receiving only the riff-raff, and we belonged in -between, somewhere. But presently, a servant came out saying it was all -right, he was coming. - -<p>And sure enough, he came, and I saw him—that object of the worship of -millions. It was a strange sensation, and thrilling. I wish I could -feel it stream through my veins again. And yet, to me he was not a god, -he was only a Taj. The thrill was not my thrill, but had come to me -secondhand from those invisible millions of believers. By a hand-shake -with their god I had ground-circuited their wire and got their monster -battery's whole charge. - -<p>He was tall and slender, indeed emaciated. He had a clean cut and -conspicuously intellectual face, and a deep and kindly eye. He looked -many years older than he really was, but much study and meditation and -fasting and prayer, with the arid life he had led as hermit and beggar, -could account for that. He is wholly nude when he receives natives, of -whatever rank they may be, but he had white cloth around his loins now, a -concession to Mr. Parker's European prejudices, no doubt. - -<p>As soon as I had sobered down a little we got along very well together, -and I found him a most pleasant and friendly deity. He had heard a deal -about Chicago, and showed a quite remarkable interest in it, for a god. -It all came of the World's Fair and the Congress of Religions. If India -knows about nothing else American, she knows about those, and will keep -them in mind one while. - -<p>He proposed an exchange of autographs, a delicate attention which made me -believe in him, but I had been having my doubts before. He wrote his in -his book, and I have a reverent regard for that book, though the words -run from right to left, and so I can't read it. It was a mistake to -print in that way. It contains his voluminous comments on the Hindoo -holy writings, and if I could make them out I would try for perfection -myself. I gave him a copy of Huckleberry Finn. I thought it might rest -him up a little to mix it in along with his meditations on Brahma, for he -looked tired, and I knew that if it didn't do him any good it wouldn't do -him any harm. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p512.jpg (53K)" src="images/p512.jpg" height="627" width="503"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>He has a scholar meditating under him—Mina Bahadur Rana—but we did not -see him. He wears clothes and is very imperfect. He has written a -little pamphlet about his master, and I have that. It contains a -wood-cut of the master and himself seated on a rug in the garden. The -portrait of the master is very good indeed. The posture is exactly that -which Brahma himself affects, and it requires long arms and limber legs, -and can be accumulated only by gods and the india-rubber man. There is a -life-size marble relief of Shri 108, S.B.S. in the garden. It -represents him in this same posture. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p513.jpg (17K)" src="images/p513.jpg" height="433" width="303"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Dear me! It is a strange world. Particularly the Indian division of it. -This pupil, Mina Bahadur Rana, is not a commonplace person, but a man of -distinguished capacities and attainments, and, apparently, he had a fine -worldly career in front of him. He was serving the Nepal Government in a -high capacity at the Court of the Viceroy of India, twenty years ago. He -was an able man, educated, a thinker, a man of property. But the longing -to devote himself to a religious life came upon him, and he resigned his -place, turned his back upon the vanities and comforts of the world, and -went away into the solitudes to live in a hut and study the sacred -writings and meditate upon virtue and holiness and seek to attain them. -This sort of religion resembles ours. Christ recommended the rich to -give away all their property and follow Him in poverty, not in worldly -comfort. American and English millionaires do it every day, and thus -verify and confirm to the world the tremendous forces that lie in -religion. Yet many people scoff at them for this loyalty to duty, and -many will scoff at Mina Bahadur Rana and call him a crank. Like many -Christians of great character and intellect, he has made the study of his -Scriptures and the writing of books of commentaries upon them the loving -labor of his life. Like them, he has believed that his was not an idle -and foolish waste of his life, but a most worthy and honorable employment -of it. Yet, there are many people who will see in those others, men -worthy of homage and deep reverence, but in him merely a crank. But I -shall not. He has my reverence. And I don't offer it as a common thing -and poor, but as an unusual thing and of value. The ordinary reverence, -the reverence defined and explained by the dictionary costs nothing. -Reverence for one's own sacred things—parents, religion, flag, laws, and -respect for one's own beliefs—these are feelings which we cannot even -help. They come natural to us; they are involuntary, like breathing. -There is no personal merit in breathing. But the reverence which is -difficult, and which has personal merit in it, is the respect which you -pay, without compulsion, to the political or religious attitude of a man -whose beliefs are not yours. You can't revere his gods or his politics, -and no one expects you to do that, but you could respect his belief in -them if you tried hard enough; and you could respect him, too, if you -tried hard enough. But it is very, very difficult; it is next to -impossible, and so we hardly ever try. If the man doesn't believe as we -do, we say he is a crank, and that settles it. I mean it does nowadays, -because now we can't burn him. - -<p>We are always canting about people's "irreverence," always charging this -offense upon somebody or other, and thereby intimating that we are better -than that person and do not commit that offense ourselves. Whenever we -do this we are in a lying attitude, and our speech is cant; for none of -us are reverent—in a meritorious way; deep down in our hearts we are all -irreverent. There is probably not a single exception to this rule in the -earth. There is probably not one person whose reverence rises higher -than respect for his own sacred things; and therefore, it is not a thing -to boast about and be proud of, since the most degraded savage has -that—and, like the best of us, has nothing higher. To speak plainly, we -despise all reverences and all objects of reverence which are outside the -pale of our own list of sacred things. And yet, with strange -inconsistency, we are shocked when other people despise and defile the -things which are holy to us. Suppose we should meet with a paragraph -like the following, in the newspapers: - -<p>"Yesterday a visiting party of the British nobility had a picnic at Mount -Vernon, and in the tomb of Washington they ate their luncheon, sang -popular songs, played games, and danced waltzes and polkas." - -<p>Should we be shocked? Should we feel outraged? Should we be amazed? -Should we call the performance a desecration? Yes, that would all -happen. We should denounce those people in round terms, and call them -hard names. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p516.jpg (30K)" src="images/p516.jpg" height="537" width="357"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>And suppose we found this paragraph in the newspapers: - -<p>"Yesterday a visiting party of American pork-millionaires had a picnic in -Westminster Abbey, and in that sacred place they ate their luncheon, sang -popular songs, played games, and danced waltzes and polkas." - -<p>Would the English be shocked? Would they feel outraged? Would they be -amazed? Would they call the performance a desecration? That would all -happen. The pork-millionaires would be denounced in round terms; they -would be called hard names. - -<p>In the tomb at Mount Vernon lie the ashes of America's most honored son; -in the Abbey, the ashes of England's greatest dead; the tomb of tombs, -the costliest in the earth, the wonder of the world, the Taj, was built -by a great Emperor to honor the memory of a perfect wife and perfect -mother, one in whom there was no spot or blemish, whose love was his stay -and support, whose life was the light of the world to him; in it her -ashes lie, and to the Mohammedan millions of India it is a holy place; to -them it is what Mount Vernon is to Americans, it is what the Abbey is to -the English. - -<p>Major Sleeman wrote forty or fifty years ago (the italics are mine): - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "I would here enter my humble protest against the quadrille and - lunch parties which are sometimes given to European ladies and - gentlemen of the station at this imperial tomb; drinking and dancing - are no doubt very good things in their season, but they are sadly - out of place in a sepulchre." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>Were there any Americans among those lunch parties? If they were -invited, there were. - -<p>If my imagined lunch-parties in Westminster and the tomb of Washington -should take place, the incident would cause a vast outbreak of bitter -eloquence about Barbarism and Irreverence; and it would come from two -sets of people who would go next day and dance in the Taj if they had a -chance. - -<p>As we took our leave of the Benares god and started away we noticed a -group of natives waiting respectfully just within the gate—a Rajah from -somewhere in India, and some people of lesser consequence. The god -beckoned them to come, and as we passed out the Rajah was kneeling and -reverently kissing his sacred feet. - -<p>If Barnum—but Barnum's ambitions are at rest. This god will remain in -the holy peace and seclusion of his garden, undisturbed. Barnum could -not have gotten him, anyway. Still, he would have found a substitute -that would answer. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch54"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LIV.</h2> - -<p><i>Do not undervalue the headache. While it is at its sharpest it seems a -bad investment; but when relief begins, the unexpired remainder is worth -$4 a minute.</i> - <blockquote>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</blockquote> - -<p>A comfortable railway journey of seventeen and a half hours brought us to -the capital of India, which is likewise the capital of Bengal—Calcutta. -Like Bombay, it has a population of nearly a million natives and a small -gathering of white people. It is a huge city and fine, and is called the -City of Palaces. It is rich in historical memories; rich in British -achievement—military, political, commercial; rich in the results of the -miracles done by that brace of mighty magicians, Clive and Hastings. And -has a cloud kissing monument to one Ochterlony. - -<p>It is a fluted candlestick 250 feet high. This lingam is the only large -monument in Calcutta, I believe. It is a fine ornament, and will keep -Ochterlony in mind. - -<p>Wherever you are, in Calcutta, and for miles around, you can see it; and -always when you see it you think of Ochterlony. And so there is not an -hour in the day that you do not think of Ochterlony and wonder who he -was. It is good that Clive cannot come back, for he would think it was -for Plassey; and then that great spirit would be wounded when the -revelation came that it was not. Clive would find out that it was for -Ochterlony; and he would think Ochterlony was a battle. And he would -think it was a great one, too, and he would say, "With three thousand I -whipped sixty thousand and founded the Empire—and there is no monument; -this other soldier must have whipped a billion with a dozen and saved the -world." - -<p>But he would be mistaken. Ochterlony was a man, not a battle. And he -did good and honorable service, too; as good and honorable service as has -been done in India by seventy-five or a hundred other Englishmen of -courage, rectitude, and distinguished capacity. For India has been a -fertile breeding-ground of such men, and remains so; great men, both in -war and in the civil service, and as modest as great. But they have no -monuments, and were not expecting any. Ochterlony could not have been -expecting one, and it is not at all likely that he desired one—certainly -not until Clive and Hastings should be supplied. Every day Clive and -Hastings lean on the battlements of heaven and look down and wonder which -of the two the monument is for; and they fret and worry because they -cannot find out, and so the peace of heaven is spoiled for them and lost. -But not for Ochterlony. Ochterlony is not troubled. He doesn't suspect -that it is his monument. Heaven is sweet and peaceful to him. There is -a sort of unfairness about it all. - -<p>Indeed, if monuments were always given in India for high achievements, -duty straitly performed, and smirchless records, the landscape would be -monotonous with them. The handful of English in India govern the Indian -myriads with apparent ease, and without noticeable friction, through -tact, training, and distinguished administrative ability, reinforced by -just and liberal laws—and by keeping their word to the native whenever -they give it. - -<p>England is far from India and knows little about the eminent services -performed by her servants there, for it is the newspaper correspondent -who makes fame, and he is not sent to India but to the continent, to -report the doings of the princelets and the dukelets, and where they are -visiting and whom they are marrying. Often a British official spends -thirty or forty years in India, climbing from grade to grade by services -which would make him celebrated anywhere else, and finishes as a -vice-sovereign, governing a great realm and millions of subjects; then he goes -home to England substantially unknown and unheard of, and settles down in -some modest corner, and is as one extinguished. Ten years later there is -a twenty-line obituary in the London papers, and the reader is paralyzed -by the splendors of a career which he is not sure that he had ever heard -of before. But meanwhile he has learned all about the continental -princelets and dukelets. - -<p>The average man is profoundly ignorant of countries that lie remote from -his own. When they are mentioned in his presence one or two facts and -maybe a couple of names rise like torches in his mind, lighting up an -inch or two of it and leaving the rest all dark. The mention of Egypt -suggests some Biblical facts and the Pyramids-nothing more. The mention -of South Africa suggests Kimberly and the diamonds and there an end. -Formerly the mention, to a Hindoo, of America suggested a name—George -Washington—with that his familiarity with our country was exhausted. -Latterly his familiarity with it has doubled in bulk; so that when -America is mentioned now, two torches flare up in the dark caverns of his -mind and he says, "Ah, the country of the great man Washington; and of -the Holy City—Chicago." For he knows about the Congress of Religion, and -this has enabled him to get an erroneous impression of Chicago. - -<p>When India is mentioned to the citizen of a far country it suggests -Clive, Hastings, the Mutiny, Kipling, and a number of other great events; -and the mention of Calcutta infallibly brings up the Black Hole. And so, -when that citizen finds himself in the capital of India he goes first of -all to see the Black Hole of Calcutta—and is disappointed. - -<p>The Black Hole was not preserved; it is gone, long, long ago. It is -strange. Just as it stood, it was itself a monument; a ready-made one. -It was finished, it was complete, its materials were strong and lasting, -it needed no furbishing up, no repairs; it merely needed to be let alone. -It was the first brick, the Foundation Stone, upon which was reared a -mighty Empire—the Indian Empire of Great Britain. It was the ghastly -episode of the Black Hole that maddened the British and brought Clive, -that young military marvel, raging up from Madras; it was the seed from -which sprung Plassey; and it was that extraordinary battle, whose like -had not been seen in the earth since Agincourt, that laid deep and strong -the foundations of England's colossal Indian sovereignty. - -<p>And yet within the time of men who still live, the Black Hole was torn -down and thrown away as carelessly as if its bricks were common clay, not -ingots of historic gold. There is no accounting for human beings. - -<p>The supposed site of the Black Hole is marked by an engraved plate. I -saw that; and better that than nothing. The Black Hole was a prison—a -cell is nearer the right word—eighteen feet square, the dimensions of an -ordinary bedchamber; and into this place the victorious Nabob of Bengal -packed 146 of his English prisoners. There was hardly standing room for -them; scarcely a breath of air was to be got; the time was night, the -weather sweltering hot. Before the dawn came, the captives were all dead -but twenty-three. Mr. Holwell's long account of the awful episode was -familiar to the world a hundred years ago, but one seldom sees in print -even an extract from it in our day. Among the striking things in it is -this. Mr. Holwell, perishing with thirst, kept himself alive by sucking -the perspiration from his sleeves. It gives one a vivid idea of the -situation. He presently found that while he was busy drawing life from -one of his sleeves a young English gentleman was stealing supplies from -the other one. Holwell was an unselfish man, a man of the most generous -impulses; he lived and died famous for these fine and rare qualities; yet -when he found out what was happening to that unwatched sleeve, he took -the precaution to suck that one dry first. The miseries of the Black -Hole were able to change even a nature like his. But that young -gentleman was one of the twenty-three survivors, and he said it was the -stolen perspiration that saved his life. From the middle of Mr. -Holwell's narrative I will make a brief excerpt: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "Then a general prayer to Heaven, to hasten the approach of the - flames to the right and left of us, and put a period to our misery. - But these failing, they whose strength and spirits were quite - exhausted laid themselves down and expired quietly upon their - fellows: others who had yet some strength and vigor left made a last - effort at the windows, and several succeeded by leaping and - scrambling over the backs and heads of those in the first rank, and - got hold of the bars, from which there was no removing them. Many - to the right and left sunk with the violent pressure, and were soon - suffocated; for now a steam arose from the living and the dead, - which affected us in all its circumstances as if we were forcibly - held with our heads over a bowl full of strong volatile spirit of - hartshorn, until suffocated; nor could the effluvia of the one be - distinguished from the other, and frequently, when I was forced by - the load upon my head and shoulders to hold my face down, I was - obliged, near as I was to the window, instantly to raise it again to - avoid suffocation. I need not, my dear friend, ask your - commiseration, when I tell you, that in this plight, from half an - hour past eleven till near two in the morning, I sustained the - weight of a heavy man, with his knees in my back, and the pressure - of his whole body on my head. A Dutch surgeon who had taken his - seat upon my left shoulder, and a Topaz (a black Christian soldier) - bearing on my right; all which nothing could have enabled me to - support but the props and pressure equally sustaining me all around. - The two latter I frequently dislodged by shifting my hold on the - bars and driving my knuckles into their ribs; but my friend above - stuck fast, held immovable by two bars. - -<p> "I exerted anew my strength and fortitude; but the repeated trials - and efforts I made to dislodge the insufferable incumbrances upon me - at last quite exhausted me; and towards two o'clock, finding I must - quit the window or sink where I was, I resolved on the former, - having bore, truly for the sake of others, infinitely more for life - than the best of it is worth. In the rank close behind me was an - officer of one of the ships, whose name was Cary, and who had - behaved with much bravery during the siege (his wife, a fine woman, - though country born, would not quit him, but accompanied him into - the prison, and was one who survived). This poor wretch had been - long raving for water and air; I told him I was determined to give - up life, and recommended his gaining my station. On my quitting it - he made a fruitless attempt to get my place; but the Dutch surgeon, - who sat on my shoulder, supplanted him. Poor Cary expressed his - thankfulness, and said he would give up life too; but it was with - the utmost labor we forced our way from the window (several in the - inner ranks appearing to me dead standing, unable to fall by the - throng and equal pressure around). He laid himself down to die; and - his death, I believe, was very sudden; for he was a short, full, - sanguine man. His strength was great; and, I imagine, had he not - retired with me, I should never have been able to force my way. I - was at this time sensible of no pain, and little uneasiness; I can - give you no better idea of my situation than by repeating my simile - of the bowl of spirit of hartshorn. I found a stupor coming on - apace, and laid myself down by that gallant old man, the Rev. Mr. - Jervas Bellamy, who laid dead with his son, the lieutenant, hand in - hand, near the southernmost wall of the prison. When I had lain - there some little time, I still had reflection enough to suffer some - uneasiness in the thought that I should be trampled upon, when dead, - as I myself had done to others. With some difficulty I raised - myself, and gained the platform a second time, where I presently - lost all sensation; the last trace of sensibility that I have been - able to recollect after my laying down, was my sash being uneasy - about my waist, which I untied, and threw from me. Of what passed - in this interval, to the time of my resurrection from this hole of - horrors, I can give you no account." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>There was plenty to see in Calcutta, but there was not plenty of time for -it. I saw the fort that Clive built; and the place where Warren Hastings -and the author of the Junius Letters fought their duel; and the great -botanical gardens; and the fashionable afternoon turnout in the Maidan; -and a grand review of the garrison in a great plain at sunrise; and a -military tournament in which great bodies of native soldiery exhibited -the perfection of their drill at all arms, a spectacular and beautiful -show occupying several nights and closing with the mimic storming of a -native fort which was as good as the reality for thrilling and accurate -detail, and better than the reality for security and comfort; we had a -pleasure excursion on the 'Hoogly' by courtesy of friends, and devoted -the rest of the time to social life and the Indian museum. One should -spend a month in the museum, an enchanted palace of Indian antiquities. -Indeed, a person might spend half a year among the beautiful and -wonderful things without exhausting their interest. - -<p>It was winter. We were of Kipling's "hosts of tourists who travel up and -down India in the cold weather showing how things ought to be managed." -It is a common expression there, "the cold weather," and the people think -there is such a thing. It is because they have lived there half a -lifetime, and their perceptions have become blunted. When a person is -accustomed to 138 in the shade, his ideas about cold weather are not -valuable. I had read, in the histories, that the June marches made -between Lucknow and Cawnpore by the British forces in the time of the -Mutiny were made in that kind of weather—138 in the shade—and had taken it for -historical embroidery. I had read it again in Serjeant-Major -Forbes-Mitchell's account of his military experiences in the Mutiny—at least I -thought I had—and in Calcutta I asked him if it was true, and he said it -was. An officer of high rank who had been in the thick of the Mutiny -said the same. As long as those men were talking about what they knew, -they were trustworthy, and I believed them; but when they said it was now -"cold weather," I saw that they had traveled outside of their sphere of -knowledge and were floundering. I believe that in India "cold weather" -is merely a conventional phrase and has come into use through the -necessity of having some way to distinguish between weather which will -melt a brass door-knob and weather which will only make it mushy. It was -observable that brass ones were in use while I was in Calcutta, showing -that it was not yet time to change to porcelain; I was told the change to -porcelain was not usually made until May. But this cold weather was too -warm for us; so we started to Darjeeling, in the Himalayas—a twenty-four -hour journey. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p523.jpg (8K)" src="images/p523.jpg" height="533" width="165"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch55"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LV.</h2> - -<p><i>There are 869 different forms of lying, but only one of them has been -squarely forbidden. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy -neighbor.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p> -FROM DIARY: - -<p>February 14. We left at 4:30 P.M. Until dark we moved through rich -vegetation, then changed to a boat and crossed the Ganges. - -<p>February 15. Up with the sun. A brilliant morning, and frosty. A -double suit of flannels is found necessary. The plain is perfectly -level, and seems to stretch away and away and away, dimming and -softening, to the uttermost bounds of nowhere. What a soaring, -strenuous, gushing fountain spray of delicate greenery a bunch of bamboo -is! As far as the eye can reach, these grand vegetable geysers grace the -view, their spoutings refined to steam by distance. And there are fields -of bananas, with the sunshine glancing from the varnished surface of -their drooping vast leaves. And there are frequent groves of palm; and -an effective accent is given to the landscape by isolated individuals of -this picturesque family, towering, clean-stemmed, their plumes broken and -hanging ragged, Nature's imitation of an umbrella that has been out to -see what a cyclone is like and is trying not to look disappointed. And -everywhere through the soft morning vistas we glimpse the villages, the -countless villages, the myriad villages, thatched, built of clean new -matting, snuggling among grouped palms and sheaves of bamboo; villages, -villages, no end of villages, not three hundred yards apart, and dozens -and dozens of them in sight all the time; a mighty City, hundreds of -miles long, hundreds of miles broad, made all of villages, the biggest -city in the earth, and as populous as a European kingdom. I have seen no -such city as this before. And there is a continuously repeated and -replenished multitude of naked men in view on both sides and ahead. We -fly through it mile after mile, but still it is always there, on both -sides and ahead—brown-bodied, naked men and boys, plowing in the fields. -But not a woman. In these two hours I have not seen a woman or a girl -working in the fields. - - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p525.jpg (34K)" src="images/p525.jpg" height="497" width="607"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Those are beautiful verses, and they have remained in my memory all my -life. But if the closing lines are true, let us hope that when we come -to answer the call and deliver the land from its errors, we shall secrete -from it some of our high-civilization ways, and at the same time borrow -some of its pagan ways to enrich our high system with. We have a right -to do this. If we lift those people up, we have a right to lift -ourselves up nine or ten grades or so, at their expense. A few years ago -I spent several weeks at Tolz, in Bavaria. It is a Roman Catholic -region, and not even Benares is more deeply or pervasively or -intelligently devout. In my diary of those days I find this: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "We took a long drive yesterday around about the lovely country - roads. But it was a drive whose pleasure was damaged in a couple of - ways: by the dreadful shrines and by the shameful spectacle of gray - and venerable old grandmothers toiling in the fields. The shrines - were frequent along the roads—figures of the Saviour nailed to the - cross and streaming with blood from the wounds of the nails and the - thorns. - -<p> "When missionaries go from here do they find fault with the pagan - idols? I saw many women seventy and even eighty years old mowing - and binding in the fields, and pitchforking the loads into the - wagons." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>I was in Austria later, and in Munich. In Munich I saw gray old women -pushing trucks up hill and down, long distances, trucks laden with -barrels of beer, incredible loads. In my Austrian diary I find this: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "In the fields I often see a woman and a cow harnessed to the plow, - and a man driving. - -<p> "In the public street of Marienbad to-day, I saw an old, bent, - gray-fheaded woman, in harness with a dog, drawing a laden sled over bare - dirt roads and bare pavements; and at his ease walked the driver, - smoking his pipe, a hale fellow not thirty years old." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p526.jpg (9K)" src="images/p526.jpg" height="315" width="307"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Five or six years ago I bought an open boat, made a kind of a canvas -wagon-roof over the stern of it to shelter me from sun and rain; hired a -courier and a boatman, and made a twelve-day floating voyage down the -Rhone from Lake Bourget to Marseilles. In my diary of that trip I find -this entry. I was far down the Rhone then: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "Passing St. Etienne, 2:15 P.M. On a distant ridge inland, a tall - openwork structure commandingly situated, with a statue of the - Virgin standing on it. A devout country. All down this river, - wherever there is a crag there is a statue of the Virgin on it. I - believe I have seen a hundred of them. And yet, in many respects, - the peasantry seem to be mere pagans, and destitute of any - considerable degree of civilization. - -<p> " . . . . We reached a not very promising looking village about - 4 o'clock, and I concluded to tie up for the day; munching fruit and - fogging the hood with pipe-smoke had grown monotonous; I could not - have the hood furled, because the floods of rain fell unceasingly. - The tavern was on the river bank, as is the custom. It was dull - there, and melancholy—nothing to do but look out of the window into - the drenching rain, and shiver; one could do that, for it was bleak - and cold and windy, and country France furnishes no fire. Winter - overcoats did not help me much; they had to be supplemented with - rugs. The raindrops were so large and struck the river with such - force that they knocked up the water like pebble-splashes. - -<p> "With the exception of a very occasional woodenshod peasant, nobody - was abroad in this bitter weather—I mean nobody of our sex. But - all weathers are alike to the women in these continental countries. - To them and the other animals, life is serious; nothing interrupts - their slavery. Three of them were washing clothes in the river - under the window when I arrived, and they continued at it as long as - there was light to work by. One was apparently thirty; another—the - mother!—above fifty; the third—grandmother!—so old and worn and - gray she could have passed for eighty; I took her to be that old. - They had no waterproofs nor rubbers, of course; over their shoulders - they wore gunnysacks—simply conductors for rivers of water; some of - the volume reached the ground; the rest soaked in on the way. -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p527.jpg (17K)" src="images/p527.jpg" height="457" width="379"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "At last a vigorous fellow of thirty-five arrived, dry and - comfortable, smoking his pipe under his big umbrella in an open - donkey-cart-husband, son, and grandson of those women! He stood up - in the cart, sheltering himself, and began to superintend, issuing - his orders in a masterly tone of command, and showing temper when - they were not obeyed swiftly enough. - -<p> "Without complaint or murmur the drowned women patiently carried out - the orders, lifting the immense baskets of soggy, wrung-out clothing - into the cart and stowing them to the man's satisfaction. There - were six of the great baskets, and a man of mere ordinary strength - could not have lifted any one of them. The cart being full now, the - Frenchman descended, still sheltered by his umbrella, entered the - tavern, and the women went drooping homeward, trudging in the wake - of the cart, and soon were blended with the deluge and lost to - sight. - -<p> "When I went down into the public room, the Frenchman had his bottle - of wine and plate of food on a bare table black with grease, and was - 'chomping' like a horse. He had the little religious paper which is - in everybody's hands on the Rhone borders, and was enlightening - himself with the histories of French saints who used to flee to the - desert in the Middle Ages to escape the contamination of woman. For - two hundred years France has been sending missionaries to other - savage lands. To spare to the needy from poverty like hers is fine - and true generosity." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>But to get back to India—where, as my favorite poem says— - -<center> -<table summary=""> -<tr><td> - "Every prospect pleases, -<br> And only man is vile."<br> - -</td></tr> -</table> -</center> - - - -<p>It is because Bavaria and Austria and France have not introduced their -civilization to him yet. But Bavaria and Austria and France are on their -way. They are coming. They will rescue him; they will refine the -vileness out of him. - -<p>Some time during the forenoon, approaching the mountains, we changed from -the regular train to one composed of little canvas-sheltered cars that -skimmed along within a foot of the ground and seemed to be going fifty -miles an hour when they were really making about twenty. Each car had -seating capacity for half-a-dozen persons; and when the curtains were up -one was substantially out of doors, and could see everywhere, and get all -the breeze, and be luxuriously comfortable. It was not a pleasure -excursion in name only, but in fact. - -<p>After a while we stopped at a little wooden coop of a station just -within the curtain of the sombre jungle, a place with a deep and dense -forest of great trees and scrub and vines all about it. The royal Bengal -tiger is in great force there, and is very bold and unconventional. From -this lonely little station a message once went to the railway manager in -Calcutta: "Tiger eating station-master on front porch; telegraph -instructions." - -<p>It was there that I had my first tiger hunt. I killed thirteen. We were -presently away again, and the train began to climb the mountains. In one -place seven wild elephants crossed the track, but two of them got away -before I could overtake them. The railway journey up the mountain is -forty miles, and it takes eight hours to make it. It is so wild and -interesting and exciting and enchanting that it ought to take a week. As -for the vegetation, it is a museum. The jungle seemed to contain samples -of every rare and curious tree and bush that we had ever seen or heard -of. It is from that museum, I think, that the globe must have been -supplied with the trees and vines and shrubs that it holds precious. - -<p>The road is infinitely and charmingly crooked. It goes winding in and -out under lofty cliffs that are smothered in vines and foliage, and -around the edges of bottomless chasms; and all the way one glides by -files of picturesque natives, some carrying burdens up, others going down -from their work in the tea-gardens; and once there was a gaudy wedding -procession, all bright tinsel and color, and a bride, comely and girlish, -who peeped out from the curtains of her palanquin, exposing her face with -that pure delight which the young and happy take in sin for sin's own -sake. - -<p>By and by we were well up in the region of the clouds, and from that -breezy height we looked down and afar over a wonderful picture—the -Plains of India, stretching to the horizon, soft and fair, level as a -floor, shimmering with heat, mottled with cloud-shadows, and cloven with -shining rivers. Immediately below us, and receding down, down, down, -toward the valley, was a shaven confusion of hilltops, with ribbony roads -and paths squirming and snaking cream-yellow all over them and about -them, every curve and twist sharply distinct. - -<p>At an elevation of 6,000 feet we entered a thick cloud, and it shut out -the world and kept it shut out. We climbed 1,000 feet higher, then began -to descend, and presently got down to Darjeeling, which is 6,000 feet -above the level of the Plains. - -<p>We had passed many a mountain village on the way up, and seen some new -kinds of natives, among them many samples of the fighting Ghurkas. They -are not large men, but they are strong and resolute. There are no better -soldiers among Britain's native troops. And we had passed shoals of -their women climbing the forty miles of steep road from the valley to -their mountain homes, with tall baskets on their backs hitched to their -foreheads by a band, and containing a freightage weighing—I will not say -how many hundreds of pounds, for the sum is unbelievable. These were -young women, and they strode smartly along under these astonishing -burdens with the air of people out for a holiday. I was told that a -woman will carry a piano on her back all the way up the mountain; and -that more than once a woman had done it. If these were old women I -should regard the Ghurkas as no more civilized than the Europeans. -At the railway station at Darjeeling you find plenty of -cab-substitutes—open coffins, in which you sit, and are then borne on men's shoulders up -the steep roads into the town. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p531.jpg (53K)" src="images/p531.jpg" height="943" width="575"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Up there we found a fairly comfortable hotel, the property of an -indiscriminate and incoherent landlord, who looks after nothing, but -leaves everything to his army of Indian servants. No, he does look after -the bill—to be just to him—and the tourist cannot do better than follow -his example. I was told by a resident that the summit of Kinchinjunga is -often hidden in the clouds, and that sometimes a tourist has waited -twenty-two days and then been obliged to go away without a sight of it. -And yet went not disappointed; for when he got his hotel bill he -recognized that he was now seeing the highest thing in the Himalayas. -But this is probably a lie. - -<p>After lecturing I went to the Club that night, and that was a comfortable -place. It is loftily situated, and looks out over a vast spread of -scenery; from it you can see where the boundaries of three countries come -together, some thirty miles away; Thibet is one of them, Nepaul another, -and I think Herzegovina was the other. Apparently, in every town and -city in India the gentlemen of the British civil and military service -have a club; sometimes it is a palatial one, always it is pleasant and -homelike. The hotels are not always as good as they might be, and the -stranger who has access to the Club is grateful for his privilege and -knows how to value it. - -<p>Next day was Sunday. Friends came in the gray dawn with horses, and my -party rode away to a distant point where Kinchinjunga and Mount Everest -show up best, but I stayed at home for a private view; for it was very -cold, and I was not acquainted with the horses, any way. I got a pipe and -a few blankets and sat for two hours at the window, and saw the sun drive -away the veiling gray and touch up the snow-peaks one after another with -pale pink splashes and delicate washes of gold, and finally flood the -whole mighty convulsion of snow-mountains with a deluge of rich -splendors. - -<p>Kinchinjunga's peak was but fitfully visible, but in the between times it -was vividly clear against the sky—away up there in the blue dome more -than 28,000 feet above sea level—the loftiest land I had ever seen, by -12,000 feet or more. It was 45 miles away. Mount Everest is a thousand -feet higher, but it was not a part of that sea of mountains piled up -there before me, so I did not see it; but I did not care, because I think -that mountains that are as high as that are disagreeable. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p533.jpg (55K)" src="images/p533.jpg" height="370" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p533.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>I changed from the back to the front of the house and spent the rest of -the morning there, watching the swarthy strange tribes flock by from -their far homes in the Himalayas. All ages and both sexes were -represented, and the breeds were quite new to me, though the costumes of -the Thibetans made them look a good deal like Chinamen. The prayer-wheel -was a frequent feature. It brought me near to these people, and made -them seem kinfolk of mine. Through our preacher we do much of our -praying by proxy. We do not whirl him around a stick, as they do, but -that is merely a detail. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p534.jpg (11K)" src="images/p534.jpg" height="489" width="303"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>The swarm swung briskly by, hour after hour, a -strange and striking pageant. It was wasted there, and it seemed a pity. -It should have been sent streaming through the cities of Europe or -America, to refresh eyes weary of the pale monotonies of the -circus-pageant. These people were bound for the bazar, with things to sell. We -went down there, later, and saw that novel congress of the wild peoples, -and plowed here and there through it, and concluded that it would be -worth coming from Calcutta to see, even if there were no Kinchinjunga and -Everest. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch56"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LVI.</h2> - -<p><i>There are two times in a man's life when he should not speculate: when he -can't afford it, and when he can.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>On Monday and Tuesday at sunrise we again had fair-to-middling views of -the stupendous mountains; then, being well cooled off and refreshed, we -were ready to chance the weather of the lower world once more. - -<p>We traveled up hill by the regular train five miles to the summit, then -changed to a little canvas-canopied hand-car for the 35-mile descent. It -was the size of a sleigh, it had six seats and was so low that it seemed -to rest on the ground. It had no engine or other propelling power, and -needed none to help it fly down those steep inclines. It only needed a -strong brake, to modify its flight, and it had that. There was a story -of a disastrous trip made down the mountain once in this little car by -the Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, when the car jumped the track and -threw its passengers over a precipice. It was not true, but the story -had value for me, for it made me nervous, and nervousness wakes a person -up and makes him alive and alert, and heightens the thrill of a new and -doubtful experience. The car could really jump the track, of course; a -pebble on the track, placed there by either accident or malice, at a -sharp curve where one might strike it before the eye could discover it, -could derail the car and fling it down into India; and the fact that the -lieutenant-governor had escaped was no proof that I would have the same -luck. And standing there, looking down upon the Indian Empire from the -airy altitude of 7,000 feet, it seemed unpleasantly far, dangerously far, -to be flung from a handcar. - -<p>But after all, there was but small danger—for me. What there was, was -for Mr. Pugh, inspector of a division of the Indian police, in whose -company and protection we had come from Calcutta. He had seen long -service as an artillery officer, was less nervous than I was, and so he -was to go ahead of us in a pilot hand-car, with a Ghurka and another -native; and the plan was that when we should see his car jump over a -precipice we must put on our (break) and send for another pilot. It was -a good arrangement. Also Mr. Barnard, chief engineer of the -mountain-division of the road, was to take personal charge of our car, and he had -been down the mountain in it many a time. - -<p>Everything looked safe. Indeed, there was but one questionable detail -left: the regular train was to follow us as soon as we should start, and -it might run over us. Privately, I thought it would. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p537.jpg (49K)" src="images/p537.jpg" height="947" width="551"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>The road fell sharply down in front of us and went corkscrewing in and -out around the crags and precipices, down, down, forever down, suggesting -nothing so exactly or so uncomfortably as a crooked toboggan slide with -no end to it. Mr. Pugh waved his flag and started, like an arrow from a -bow, and before I could get out of the car we were gone too. I had -previously had but one sensation like the shock of that departure, and -that was the gaspy shock that took my breath away the first time that I -was discharged from the summit of a toboggan slide. But in both -instances the sensation was pleasurable—intensely so; it was a sudden -and immense exaltation, a mixed ecstasy of deadly fright and unimaginable -joy. I believe that this combination makes the perfection of human -delight. - -<p>The pilot car's flight down the mountain suggested the swoop of a swallow -that is skimming the ground, so swiftly and smoothly and gracefully it -swept down the long straight reaches and soared in and out of the bends -and around the corners. We raced after it, and seemed to flash by the -capes and crags with the speed of light; and now and then we almost -overtook it—and had hopes; but it was only playing with us; when we got -near, it released its brake, made a spring around a corner, and the next -time it spun into view, a few seconds later, it looked as small as a -wheelbarrow, it was so far away. We played with the train in the same -way. We often got out to gather flowers or sit on a precipice and look -at the scenery, then presently we would hear a dull and growing roar, and -the long coils of the train would come into sight behind and above us; -but we did not need to start till the locomotive was close down upon -us—then we soon left it far behind. It had to stop at every station, -therefore it was not an embarrassment to us. Our brake was a good piece -of machinery; it could bring the car to a standstill on a slope as steep -as a house-roof. - -<p>The scenery was grand and varied and beautiful, and there was no hurry; -we could always stop and examine it. There was abundance of time. We -did not need to hamper the train; if it wanted the road, we could switch -off and let it go by, then overtake it and pass it later. We stopped at -one place to see the Gladstone Cliff, a great crag which the ages and the -weather have sculptured into a recognizable portrait of the venerable -statesman. Mr. Gladstone is a stockholder in the road, and Nature began -this portrait ten thousand years ago, with the idea of having the -compliment ready in time for the event. - -<p>We saw a banyan tree which sent down supporting stems from branches which -were sixty feet above the ground. That is, I suppose it was a banyan; -its bark resembled that of the great banyan in the botanical gardens at -Calcutta, that spider-legged thing with its wilderness of vegetable -columns. And there were frequent glimpses of a totally leafless tree -upon whose innumerable twigs and branches a cloud of crimson butterflies -had lighted—apparently. In fact these brilliant red butterflies were -flowers, but the illusion was good. Afterward in South Africa, I saw -another splendid effect made by red flowers. This flower was probably -called the torch-plant—should have been so named, anyway. It had a -slender stem several feet high, and from its top stood up a single tongue -of flame, an intensely red flower of the size and shape of a small -corn-cob. The stems stood three or four feet apart all over a great -hill-slope that was a mile long, and make one think of what the Place de la -Concorde would be if its myriad lights were red instead of white and -yellow. - -<p>A few miles down the mountain we stopped half an hour to see a Thibetan -dramatic performance. It was in the open air on the hillside. The -audience was composed of Thibetans, Ghurkas, and other unusual people. -The costumes of the actors were in the last degree outlandish, and the -performance was in keeping with the clothes. To an accompaniment of -barbarous noises the actors stepped out one after another and began to -spin around with immense swiftness and vigor and violence, chanting the -while, and soon the whole troupe would be spinning and chanting and -raising the dust. They were performing an ancient and celebrated -historical play, and a Chinaman explained it to me in pidjin English as -it went along. The play was obscure enough without the explanation; with -the explanation added, it was (opake). As a drama this ancient -historical work of art was defective, I thought, but as a wild and -barbarous spectacle the representation was beyond criticism. -Far down the mountain we got out to look at a piece of remarkable -loop-engineering—a spiral where the road curves upon itself with such -abruptness that when the regular train came down and entered the loop, we -stood over it and saw the locomotive disappear under our bridge, then in -a few moments appear again, chasing its own tail; and we saw it gain on -it, overtake it, draw ahead past the rear cars, and run a race with that -end of the train. It was like a snake swallowing itself. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p541.jpg (64K)" src="images/p541.jpg" height="367" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p541.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Half-way down the mountain we stopped about an hour at Mr. Barnard's -house for refreshments, and while we were sitting on the veranda looking -at the distant panorama of hills through a gap in the forest, we came -very near seeing a leopard kill a calf.—[It killed it the day -before.]—It is a wild place and lovely. From the woods all about came the songs -of birds,—among them the contributions of a couple of birds which I was -not then acquainted with: the brain-fever bird and the coppersmith. The -song of the brain-fever demon starts on a low but steadily rising key, -and is a spiral twist which augments in intensity and severity with each -added spiral, growing sharper and sharper, and more and more painful, -more and more agonizing, more and more maddening, intolerable, -unendurable, as it bores deeper and deeper and deeper into the listener's -brain, until at last the brain fever comes as a relief and the man dies. -I am bringing some of these birds home to America. They will be a great -curiosity there, and it is believed that in our climate they will -multiply like rabbits. - -<p>The coppersmith bird's note at a certain distance away has the ring of a -sledge on granite; at a certain other distance the hammering has a more -metallic ring, and you might think that the bird was mending a copper -kettle; at another distance it has a more woodeny thump, but it is a -thump that is full of energy, and sounds just like starting a bung. So -he is a hard bird to name with a single name; he is a stone-breaker, -coppersmith, and bung-starter, and even then he is not completely named, -for when he is close by you find that there is a soft, deep, melodious -quality in his thump, and for that no satisfying name occurs to you. You -will not mind his other notes, but when he camps near enough for you to -hear that one, you presently find that his measured and monotonous -repetition of it is beginning to disturb you; next it will weary you, -soon it will distress you, and before long each thump will hurt your -head; if this goes on, you will lose your mind with the pain and misery -of it, and go crazy. I am bringing some of these birds home to America. -There is nothing like them there. They will be a great surprise, and it -is said that in a climate like ours they will surpass expectation for -fecundity. - -<p>I am bringing some nightingales, too, and some cue-owls. I got them in -Italy. The song of the nightingale is the deadliest known to -ornithology. That demoniacal shriek can kill at thirty yards. The note -of the cue-owl is infinitely soft and sweet—soft and sweet as the -whisper of a flute. But penetrating—oh, beyond belief; it can bore -through boiler-iron. It is a lingering note, and comes in triplets, on -the one unchanging key: hoo-o-o, hoo-o-o, hoo-o-o; then a silence of -fifteen seconds, then the triplet again; and so on, all night. At first -it is divine; then less so; then trying; then distressing; then -excruciating; then agonizing, and at the end of two hours the listener is -a maniac. - -<p>And so, presently we took to the hand-car and went flying down the -mountain again; flying and stopping, flying and stopping, till at last we -were in the plain once more and stowed for Calcutta in the regular train. -That was the most enjoyable day I have spent in the earth. For rousing, -tingling, rapturous pleasure there is no holiday trip that approaches the -bird-flight down the Himalayas in a hand-car. It has no fault, no -blemish, no lack, except that there are only thirty-five miles of it -instead of five hundred. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch57"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LVII.</h2> - -<p><i>She was not quite what you would call refined. She was not quite what -you would call unrefined. She was the kind of person that keeps a -parrot.</i> - <center> —Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>So far as I am able to judge, nothing has been left undone, either by man -or Nature, to make India the most extraordinary country that the sun -visits on his round. Nothing seems to have been forgotten, nothing over -looked. Always, when you think you have come to the end of her -tremendous specialties and have finished hanging tags upon her as the -Land of the Thug, the Land of the Plague, the Land of Famine, the Land of -Giant Illusions, the Land of Stupendous Mountains, and so forth, another -specialty crops up and another tag is required. I have been overlooking -the fact that India is by an unapproachable supremacy—the Land of -Murderous Wild Creatures. Perhaps it will be simplest to throw away the -tags and generalize her with one all-comprehensive name, as the Land of -Wonders. - -<p>For many years the British Indian Government has been trying to destroy -the murderous wild creatures, and has spent a great deal of money in the -effort. The annual official returns show that the undertaking is a -difficult one. - -<p>These returns exhibit a curious annual uniformity in results; the sort of -uniformity which you find in the annual output of suicides in the world's -capitals, and the proportions of deaths by this, that, and the other -disease. You can always come close to foretelling how many suicides will -occur in Paris, London, and New York, next year, and also how many deaths -will result from cancer, consumption, dog-bite, falling out of the -window, getting run over by cabs, etc., if you know the statistics of -those matters for the present year. In the same way, with one year's -Indian statistics before you, you can guess closely at how many people -were killed in that Empire by tigers during the previous year, and the -year before that, and the year before that, and at how many were killed -in each of those years by bears, how many by wolves, and how many by -snakes; and you can also guess closely at how many people are going to be -killed each year for the coming five years by each of those agencies. -You can also guess closely at how many of each agency the government is -going to kill each year for the next five years. - -<p>I have before me statistics covering a period of six consecutive years. -By these, I know that in India the tiger kills something over 800 persons -every year, and that the government responds by killing about double as -many tigers every year. In four of the six years referred to, the tiger -got 800 odd; in one of the remaining two years he got only 700, but in -the other remaining year he made his average good by scoring 917. He is -always sure of his average. Anyone who bets that the tiger will kill -2,400 people in India in any three consecutive years has invested his -money in a certainty; anyone who bets that he will kill 2,600 in any -three consecutive years, is absolutely sure to lose. - -<p>As strikingly uniform as are the statistics of suicide, they are not any -more so than are those of the tiger's annual output of slaughtered human -beings in India. The government's work is quite uniform, too; it about -doubles the tiger's average. In six years the tiger killed 5,000 -persons, minus 50; in the same six years 10,000 tigers were killed, minus -400. - -<p>The wolf kills nearly as many people as the tiger—700 a year to the -tiger's 800 odd—but while he is doing it, more than 5,000 of his tribe -fall. - -<p>The leopard kills an average of 230 people per year, but loses 3,300 of -his own mess while he is doing it. - -<p>The bear kills 100 people per year at a cost of 1,250 of his own tribe. - -<p>The tiger, as the figures show, makes a very handsome fight against man. -But it is nothing to the elephant's fight. The king of beasts, the lord -of the jungle, loses four of his mess per year, but he kills forty—five -persons to make up for it. - -<p>But when it comes to killing cattle, the lord of the jungle is not -interested. He kills but 100 in six years—horses of hunters, no -doubt—but in the same six the tiger kills more than 84,000, the leopard -100,000, the bear 4,000, the wolf 70,000, the hyena more than 13,000, -other wild beasts 27,000, and the snakes 19,000, a grand total of more -than 300,000; an average of 50,000 head per year. - -<p>In response, the government kills, in the six years, a total of 3,201,232 -wild beasts and snakes. Ten for one. - -<p>It will be perceived that the snakes are not much interested in cattle; -they kill only 3,000 odd per year. The snakes are much more interested -in man. India swarms with deadly snakes. At the head of the list is the -cobra, the deadliest known to the world, a snake whose bite kills where -the rattlesnake's bite merely entertains. - -<p>In India, the annual man-killings by snakes are as uniform, as regular, -and as forecastable as are the tiger-average and the suicide-average. -Anyone who bets that in India, in any three consecutive years the snakes -will kill 49,500 persons, will win his bet; and anyone who bets that in -India in any three consecutive years, the snakes will kill 53,500 -persons, will lose his bet. In India the snakes kill 17,000 people a -year; they hardly ever fall short of it; they as seldom exceed it. An -insurance actuary could take the Indian census tables and the -government's snake tables and tell you within sixpence how much it would -be worth to insure a man against death by snake-bite there. If I had a -dollar for every person killed per year in India, I would rather have it -than any other property, as it is the only property in the world not -subject to shrinkage. - -<p>I should like to have a royalty on the government-end of the snake -business, too, and am in London now trying to get it; but when I get it -it is not going to be as regular an income as the other will be if I get -that; I have applied for it. The snakes transact their end of the -business in a more orderly and systematic way than the government -transacts its end of it, because the snakes have had a long experience -and know all about the traffic. You can make sure that the government -will never kill fewer than 110,000 snakes in a year, and that it will -newer quite reach 300,000—too much room for oscillation; good speculative -stock, to bear or bull, and buy and sell long and short, and all that -kind of thing, but not eligible for investment like the other. The man -that speculates in the government's snake crop wants to go carefully. I -would not advise a man to buy a single crop at all—I mean a crop of -futures for the possible wobble is something quite extraordinary. If he -can buy six future crops in a bunch, seller to deliver 1,500,000 -altogether, that is another matter. I do not know what snakes are worth -now, but I know what they would be worth then, for the statistics show -that the seller could not come within 427,000 of carrying out his -contract. However, I think that a person who speculates in snakes is a -fool, anyway. He always regrets it afterwards. - -<p>To finish the statistics. In six years the wild beasts kill 20,000 -persons, and the snakes kill 103,000. In the same six the government -kills 1,073,546 snakes. Plenty left. - -<p>There are narrow escapes in India. In the very jungle where I killed -sixteen tigers and all those elephants, a cobra bit me but it got well; -everyone was surprised. This could not happen twice in ten years, -perhaps. Usually death would result in fifteen minutes. - -<p>We struck out westward or northwestward from Calcutta on an itinerary of -a zig-zag sort, which would in the course of time carry us across India -to its northwestern corner and the border of Afghanistan. The first part -of the trip carried us through a great region which was an endless -garden—miles and miles of the beautiful flower from whose juices comes -the opium, and at Muzaffurpore we were in the midst of the indigo -culture; thence by a branch road to the Ganges at a point near Dinapore, -and by a train which would have missed the connection by a week but for -the thoughtfulness of some British officers who were along, and who knew -the ways of trains that are run by natives without white supervision. -This train stopped at every village; for no purpose connected with -business, apparently. We put out nothing, we took nothing aboard. The -train bands stepped ashore and gossiped with friends a quarter of an -hour, then pulled out and repeated this at the succeeding villages. We -had thirty-five miles to go and six hours to do it in, but it was plain -that we were not going to make it. It was then that the English officers -said it was now necessary to turn this gravel train into an express. So -they gave the engine-driver a rupee and told him to fly. It was a simple -remedy. After that we made ninety miles an hour. We crossed the Ganges -just at dawn, made our connection, and went to Benares, where we stayed -twenty-four hours and inspected that strange and fascinating piety-hive -again; then left for Lucknow, a city which is perhaps the most -conspicuous of the many monuments of British fortitude and valor that are -scattered about the earth. - -<p>The heat was pitiless, the flat plains were destitute of grass, and baked -dry by the sun they were the color of pale dust, which was flying in -clouds. But it was much hotter than this when the relieving forces -marched to Lucknow in the time of the Mutiny. Those were the days of 138 -deg. in the shade. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch58"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LVIII.</h2> - -<p><i>Make it a point to do something every day that you don't want to do. -This is the golden rule for acquiring the habit of doing your duty -without pain.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>It seems to be settled, now, that among the many causes from which the -Great Mutiny sprang, the main one was the annexation of the kingdom of -Oudh by the East India Company—characterized by Sir Henry Lawrence as -"the most unrighteous act that was ever committed." In the spring of -1857, a mutinous spirit was observable in many of the native garrisons, -and it grew day by day and spread wider and wider. The younger military -men saw something very serious in it, and would have liked to take hold -of it vigorously and stamp it out promptly; but they were not in -authority. Old men were in the high places of the army—men who should -have been retired long before, because of their great age—and they -regarded the matter as a thing of no consequence. They loved their -native soldiers, and would not believe that anything could move them to -revolt. Everywhere these obstinate veterans listened serenely to the -rumbling of the volcanoes under them, and said it was nothing. - -<p>And so the propagators of mutiny had everything their own way. They -moved from camp to camp undisturbed, and painted to the native soldier -the wrongs his people were suffering at the hands of the English, and -made his heart burn for revenge. They were able to point to two facts of -formidable value as backers of their persuasions: In Clive's day, native -armies were incoherent mobs, and without effective arms; therefore, they -were weak against Clive's organized handful of well-armed men, but the -thing was the other way, now. The British forces were native; they had -been trained by the British, organized by the British, armed by the -British, all the power was in their hands—they were a club made by -British hands to beat out British brains with. There was nothing to -oppose their mass, nothing but a few weak battalions of British soldiers -scattered about India, a force not worth speaking of. This argument, -taken alone, might not have succeeded, for the bravest and best Indian -troops had a wholesome dread of the white soldier, whether he was weak or -strong; but the agitators backed it with their second and best point— -prophecy—a prophecy a hundred years old. The Indian is open to prophecy -at all times; argument may fail to convince him, but not prophecy. There -was a prophecy that a hundred years from the year of that battle of -Clive's which founded the British Indian Empire, the British power would -be overthrown and swept away by the natives. - -<p>The Mutiny broke out at Meerut on the 10th of May, 1857, and fired a -train of tremendous historical explosions. Nana Sahib's massacre of the -surrendered garrison of Cawnpore occurred in June, and the long siege of -Lucknow began. The military history of England is old and great, but I -think it must be granted that the crushing of the Mutiny is the greatest -chapter in it. The British were caught asleep and unprepared. They were -a few thousands, swallowed up in an ocean of hostile populations. It -would take months to inform England and get help, but they did not falter -or stop to count the odds, but with English resolution and English -devotion they took up their task, and went stubbornly on with it, through -good fortune and bad, and fought the most unpromising fight that one may -read of in fiction or out of it, and won it thoroughly. - -<p>The Mutiny broke out so suddenly, and spread with such rapidity that -there was but little time for occupants of weak outlying stations to -escape to places of safety. Attempts were made, of course, but they were -attended by hardships as bitter as death in the few cases which were -successful; for the heat ranged between 120 and 138 in the shade; the way -led through hostile peoples, and food and water were hardly to be had. -For ladies and children accustomed to ease and comfort and plenty, such a -journey must have been a cruel experience. Sir G. O. Trevelyan quotes -an example: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "This is what befell Mrs. M——, the wife of the surgeon at a - certain station on the southern confines of the insurrection. 'I - heard,' she says, 'a number of shots fired, and, looking out, I saw - my husband driving furiously from the mess-house, waving his whip. - I ran to him, and, seeing a bearer with my child in his arms, I - caught her up, and got into the buggy. At the mess-house we found - all the officers assembled, together with sixty sepoys, who had - remained faithful. We went off in one large party, amidst a general - conflagration of our late homes. We reached the caravanserai at - Chattapore the next morning, and thence started for Callinger. At - this point our sepoy escort deserted us. We were fired upon by - match-lockmen, and one officer was shot dead. We heard, likewise, - that the people had risen at Callinger, so we returned and walked - back ten miles that day. M—— and I carried the child alternately. - Presently Mrs. Smalley died of sunstroke. We had no food amongst - us. An officer kindly lent us a horse. We were very faint. The - Major died, and was buried; also the Sergeant-major and some women. - The bandsmen left us on the nineteenth of June. We were fired at - again by match-lockmen, and changed direction for Allahabad. Our - party consisted of nine gentlemen, two children, the sergeant and - his wife. On the morning of the twentieth, Captain Scott took - Lottie on to his horse. I was riding behind my husband, and she was - so crushed between us. She was two years old on the first of the - month. We were both weak through want of food and the effect of the - sun. Lottie and I had no head covering. M—— had a sepoy's cap I - found on the ground. Soon after sunrise we were followed by - villagers armed with clubs and spears. One of them struck Captain - Scott's horse on the leg. He galloped off with Lottie, and my poor - husband never saw his child again. We rode on several miles, - keeping away from villages, and then crossed the river. Our thirst - was extreme. M—— had dreadful cramps, so that I had to hold him - on the horse. I was very uneasy about him. The day before I saw - the drummer's wife eating chupatties, and asked her to give a piece - to the child, which she did. I now saw water in a ravine. The - descent was steep, and our only drinking-vessel was M——'s cap. Our - horse got water, and I bathed my neck. I had no stockings, and my - feet were torn and blistered. Two peasants came in sight, and we - were frightened and rode off. The sergeant held our horse, and M—— - put me up and mounted. I think he must have got suddenly faint, - for I fell and he over me, on the road, when the horse started off. - Some time before he said, and Barber, too, that he could not live - many hours. I felt he was dying before we came to the ravine. He - told me his wishes about his children and myself, and took leave. - My brain seemed burnt up. No tears came. As soon as we fell, the - sergeant let go the horse, and it went off; so that escape was cut - off. We sat down on the ground waiting for death. Poor fellow! he - was very weak; his thirst was frightful, and I went to get him - water. Some villagers came, and took my rupees and watch. I took - off my wedding-ring, and twisted it in my hair, and replaced the - guard. I tore off the skirt of my dress to bring water in, but was - no use, for when I returned my beloved's eyes were fixed, and, - though I called and tried to restore him, and poured water into his - mouth, it only rattled in his throat. He never spoke to me again. - I held him in my arms till he sank gradually down. I felt frantic, - but could not cry. I was alone. I bound his head and face in my - dress, for there was no earth to bury him. The pain in my hands and - feet was dreadful. I went down to the ravine, and sat in the water - on a stone, hoping to get off at night and look for Lottie. When I - came back from the water, I saw that they had not taken her little - watch, chain, and seals, so I tied them under my petticoat. In an - hour, about thirty villagers came, they dragged me out of the - ravine, and took off my jacket, and found the little chain. They - then dragged me to a village, mocking me all the way, and disputing - as to whom I was to belong to. The whole population came to look at - me. I asked for a bedstead, and lay down outside the door of a hut. - They had a dozen of cows, and yet refused me milk. When night came, - and the village was quiet, some old woman brought me a leafful of - rice. I was too parched to eat, and they gave me water. The - morning after a neighboring Rajah sent a palanquin and a horseman to - fetch me, who told me that a little child and three Sahibs had come - to his master's house. And so the poor mother found her lost one, - 'greatly blistered,' poor little creature. It is not for Europeans - in India to pray that their flight be not in the winter." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>In the first days of June the aged general, Sir Hugh Wheeler commanding -the forces at Cawnpore, was deserted by his native troops; then he moved -out of the fort and into an exposed patch of open flat ground and built a -four-foot mud wall around it. He had with him a few hundred white -soldiers and officers, and apparently more women and children than -soldiers. He was short of provisions, short of arms, short of -ammunition, short of military wisdom, short of everything but courage and -devotion to duty. The defense of that open lot through twenty-one days -and nights of hunger, thirst, Indian heat, and a never-ceasing storm of -bullets, bombs, and cannon-balls—a defense conducted, not by the aged -and infirm general, but by a young officer named Moore—is one of the -most heroic episodes in history. When at last the Nana found it -impossible to conquer these starving men and women with powder and ball, -he resorted to treachery, and that succeeded. He agreed to supply them -with food and send them to Allahabad in boats. Their mud wall and their -barracks were in ruins, their provisions were at the point of exhaustion, -they had done all that the brave could do, they had conquered an -honorable compromise,—their forces had been fearfully reduced by -casualties and by disease, they were not able to continue the contest -longer. They came forth helpless but suspecting no treachery, the Nana's -host closed around them, and at a signal from a trumpet the massacre -began. About two hundred women and children were spared—for the -present—but all the men except three or four were killed. Among the -incidents of the massacre quoted by Sir G. O. Trevelyan, is this: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "When, after the lapse of some twenty minutes, the dead began to - outnumber the living;—when the fire slackened, as the marks grew - few and far between; then the troopers who had been drawn up to the - right of the temple plunged into the river, sabre between teeth, and - pistol in hand. Thereupon two half-caste Christian women, the wives - of musicians in the band of the Fifty-sixth, witnessed a scene which - should not be related at second-hand. 'In the boat where I was to - have gone,' says Mrs. Bradshaw, confirmed throughout by Mrs. Setts, - 'was the school-mistress and twenty-two misses. General Wheeler - came last in a palkee. They carried him into the water near the - boat. I stood close by. He said, 'Carry me a little further - towards the boat.' But a trooper said, 'No, get out here.' As the - General got out of the palkee, head-foremost, the trooper gave him a - cut with his sword into the neck, and he fell into the water. My - son was killed near him. I saw it; alas! alas! Some were stabbed - with bayonets; others cut down. Little infants were torn in pieces. - We saw it; we did; and tell you only what we saw. Other children - were stabbed and thrown into the river. The schoolgirls were burnt - to death. I saw their clothes and hair catch fire. In the water, a - few paces off, by the next boat, we saw the youngest daughter of - Colonel Williams. A sepoy was going to kill her with his bayonet. - She said, 'My father was always kind to sepoys.' He turned away, - and just then a villager struck her on the head with a club, and she - fell into the water. These people likewise saw good Mr. Moncrieff, - the clergyman, take a book from his pocket that he never had leisure - to open, and heard him commence a prayer for mercy which he was not - permitted to conclude. Another deponent observed an European making - for a drain like a scared water-rat, when some boatmen, armed with - cudgels, cut off his retreat, and beat him down dead into the mud." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>The women and children who had been reserved from the massacre were -imprisoned during a fortnight in a small building, one story high—a -cramped place, a slightly modified Black Hole of Calcutta. They were -waiting in suspense; there was none who could forecaste their fate. -Meantime the news of the massacre had traveled far and an army of -rescuers with Havelock at its head was on its way—at least an army which -hoped to be rescuers. It was crossing the country by forced marches, and -strewing its way with its own dead—men struck down by cholera, and by a -heat which reached 135 deg. It was in a vengeful fury, and it stopped -for nothing—neither heat, nor fatigue, nor disease, nor human opposition. -It tore its impetuous way through hostile forces, winning victory after -victory, but still striding on and on, not halting to count results. And -at last, after this extraordinary march, it arrived before the walls of -Cawnpore, met the Nana's massed strength, delivered a crushing defeat, -and entered. - -<p>But too late—only a few hours too late. For at the last moment the Nana -had decided upon the massacre of the captive women and children, and had -commissioned three Mohammedans and two Hindoos to do the work. Sir G. -O. Trevelyan says: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "Thereupon the five men entered. It was the short gloaming of - Hindostan—the hour when ladies take their evening drive. She who - had accosted the officer was standing in the doorway. With her were - the native doctor and two Hindoo menials. That much of the business - might be seen from the veranda, but all else was concealed amidst - the interior gloom. Shrieks and scuffling acquainted those without - that the journeymen were earning their hire. Survur Khan soon - emerged with his sword broken off at the hilt. He procured another - from the Nana's house, and a few minutes after appeared again on the - same errand. The third blade was of better temper; or perhaps the - thick of the work was already over. By the time darkness had closed - in, the men came forth and locked up the house for the night. Then - the screams ceased, but the groans lasted till morning. - -<p> "The sun rose as usual. When he had been up nearly three hours the - five repaired to the scene of their labors over night. They were - attended by a few sweepers, who proceeded to transfer the contents - of the house to a dry well situated behind some trees which grew - hard by. 'The bodies,' says one who was present throughout, 'were - dragged out, most of them by the hair of the head. Those who had - clothing worth taking were stripped. Some of the women were alive. - I cannot say how many; but three could speak. They prayed for the - sake of God that an end might be put to their sufferings. I - remarked one very stout woman, a half-caste, who was severely - wounded in both arms, who entreated to be killed. She and two or - three others were placed against the bank of the cut by which - bullocks go down in drawing water. The dead were first thrown in. - Yes: there was a great crowd looking on; they were standing along - the walls of the compound. They were principally city people and - villagers. Yes: there were also sepoys. Three boys were alive. - They were fair children. The eldest, I think, must have been six or - seven, and the youngest five years. They were running around the - well (where else could they go to?), and there was none to save - them. No one said a word or tried to save them.' - -<p> "At length the smallest of them made an infantile attempt to get - away. The little thing had been frightened past bearing by the - murder of one of the surviving ladies. He thus attracted the - observation of a native who flung him and his companions down the - well." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>The soldiers had made a march of eighteen days, almost without rest, to -save the women and the children, and now they were too late—all were -dead and the assassin had flown. What happened then, Trevelyan hesitated -to put into words. "Of what took place, the less said is the better." - -<p>Then he continues: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "But there was a spectacle to witness which might excuse much. - Those who, straight from the contested field, wandered sobbing - through the rooms of the ladies' house, saw what it were well could - the outraged earth have straightway hidden. The inner apartment was - ankle-deep in blood. The plaster was scored with sword-cuts; not - high up as where men have fought, but low down, and about the - corners, as if a creature had crouched to avoid the blow. Strips of - dresses, vainly tied around the handles of the doors, signified the - contrivance to which feminine despair had resorted as a means of - keeping out the murderers. Broken combs were there, and the frills - of children's trousers, and torn cuffs and pinafores, and little - round hats, and one or two shoes with burst latchets, and one or two - daguerreotype cases with cracked glasses. An officer picked up a - few curls, preserved in a bit of cardboard, and marked 'Ned's hair, - with love'; but around were strewn locks, some near a yard in - length, dissevered, not as a keepsake, by quite other scissors." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>The battle of Waterloo was fought on the 18th of June, 1815. I do not -state this fact as a reminder to the reader, but as news to him. For a -forgotten fact is news when it comes again. Writers of books have the -fashion of whizzing by vast and renowned historical events with the -remark, "The details of this tremendous episode are too familiar to the -reader to need repeating here." They know that that is not true. It is -a low kind of flattery. They know that the reader has forgotten every -detail of it, and that nothing of the tremendous event is left in his -mind but a vague and formless luminous smudge. Aside from the desire to -flatter the reader, they have another reason for making the remark-two -reasons, indeed. They do not remember the details themselves, and do not -want the trouble of hunting them up and copying them out; also, they are -afraid that if they search them out and print them they will be scoffed -at by the book-reviewers for retelling those worn old things which are -familiar to everybody. They should not mind the reviewer's jeer; he -doesn't remember any of the worn old things until the book which he is -reviewing has retold them to him. - -<p>I have made the quoted remark myself, at one time and another, but I was -not doing it to flatter the reader; I was merely doing it to save work. -If I had known the details without brushing up, I would have put them in; -but I didn't, and I did not want the labor of posting myself; so I said, -"The details of this tremendous episode are too familiar to the reader to -need repeating here." I do not like that kind of a lie; still, it does -save work. - -<p>I am not trying to get out of repeating the details of the Siege of -Lucknow in fear of the reviewer; I am not leaving them out in fear that -they would not interest the reader; I am leaving them out partly to save -work; mainly for lack of room. It is a pity, too; for there is not a -dull place anywhere in the great story. - -<p>Ten days before the outbreak (May 10th) of the Mutiny, all was serene at -Lucknow, the huge capital of Oudh, the kingdom which had recently been -seized by the India Company. There was a great garrison, composed of -about 7,000 native troops and between 700 and 800 whites. These white -soldiers and their families were probably the only people of their race -there; at their elbow was that swarming population of warlike natives, a -race of born soldiers, brave, daring, and fond of fighting. On high -ground just outside the city stood the palace of that great personage, -the Resident, the representative of British power and authority. It -stood in the midst of spacious grounds, with its due complement of -outbuildings, and the grounds were enclosed by a wall—a wall not for -defense, but for privacy. The mutinous spirit was in the air, but the -whites were not afraid, and did not feel much troubled. - -<p>Then came the outbreak at Meerut, then the capture of Delhi by the -mutineers; in June came the three-weeks leaguer of Sir Hugh Wheeler in -his open lot at Cawnpore—40 miles distant from Lucknow—then the -treacherous massacre of that gallant little garrison; and now the great -revolt was in full flower, and the comfortable condition of things at -Lucknow was instantly changed. - -<p>There was an outbreak there, and Sir Henry Lawrence marched out of the -Residency on the 30th of June to put it down, but was defeated with heavy -loss, and had difficulty in getting back again. That night the memorable -siege of the Residency—called the siege of Lucknow—began. Sir Henry -was killed three days later, and Brigadier Inglis succeeded him in -command. - -<p>Outside of the Residency fence was an immense host of hostile and -confident native besiegers; inside it were 480 loyal native soldiers, 730 -white ones, and 500 women and children. - -<p>In those days the English garrisons always managed to hamper themselves -sufficiently with women and children. - -<p>The natives established themselves in houses close at hand and began to -rain bullets and cannon-balls into the Residency; and this they kept up, -night and day, during four months and a half, the little garrison -industriously replying all the time. The women and children soon became -so used to the roar of the guns that it ceased to disturb their sleep. -The children imitated siege and defense in their play. The women—with -any pretext, or with none—would sally out into the storm-swept grounds. -The defense was kept up week after week, with stubborn fortitude, in the -midst of death, which came in many forms—by bullet, small-pox, cholera, -and by various diseases induced by unpalatable and insufficient food, by -the long hours of wearying and exhausting overwork in the daily and -nightly battle in the oppressive Indian heat, and by the broken rest -caused by the intolerable pest of mosquitoes, flies, mice, rats, and -fleas. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p559.jpg (42K)" src="images/p559.jpg" height="365" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p559.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Six weeks after the beginning of the siege more than one-half of the -original force of white soldiers was dead, and close upon three-fifths of -the original native force. - -<p>But the fighting went on just the same. The enemy mined, the English -counter-mined, and, turn about, they blew up each other's posts. The -Residency grounds were honey-combed with the enemy's tunnels. Deadly -courtesies were constantly exchanged—sorties by the English in the -night; rushes by the enemy in the night—rushes whose purpose was to -breach the walls or scale them; rushes which cost heavily, and always -failed. - -<p>The ladies got used to all the horrors of war—the shrieks of mutilated -men, the sight of blood and death. Lady Inglis makes this mention in her -diary: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "Mrs. Bruere's nurse was carried past our door to-day, wounded in - the eye. To extract the bullet it was found necessary to take out - the eye—a fearful operation. Her mistress held her while it was - performed." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>The first relieving force failed to relieve. It was under Havelock and -Outram; and arrived when the siege had been going on for three months. -It fought its desperate way to Lucknow, then fought its way through the -city against odds of a hundred to one, and entered the Residency; but -there was not enough left of it, then, to do any good. It lost more men -in its last fight than it found in the Residency when it got in. It -became captive itself. - -<p>The fighting and starving and dying by bullets and disease went steadily -on. Both sides fought with energy and industry. Captain Birch puts this -striking incident in evidence. He is speaking of the third month of the -siege: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "As an instance of the heavy firing brought to bear on our position - this month may be mentioned the cutting down of the upper story of a - brick building simply by musketry firing. This building was in a - most exposed position. All the shots which just missed the top of - the rampart cut into the dead wall pretty much in a straight line, - and at length cut right through and brought the upper story tumbling - down. The upper structure on the top of the brigade-mess also fell - in. The Residency house was a wreck. Captain Anderson's post had - long ago been knocked down, and Innes' post also fell in. These two - were riddled with round shot. As many as 200 were picked up by - Colonel Masters." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>The exhausted garrison fought doggedly on all through the next month—October. Then, November 2d, news came Sir Colin Campbell's relieving -force would soon be on its way from Cawnpore. - -<p>On the 12th the boom of his guns was heard. - -<p>On the 13th the sounds came nearer—he was slowly, but steadily, cutting -his way through, storming one stronghold after another. - -<p>On the 14th he captured the Martiniere College, and ran up the British -flag there. It was seen from the Residency. - -<p>Next he took the Dilkoosha. - -<p>On the 17th he took the former mess-house of the 32d regiment—a -fortified building, and very strong. "A most exciting, anxious day," -writes Lady Inglis in her diary. "About 4 P.M., two strange officers -walked through our yard, leading their horses"—and by that sign she knew -that communication was established between the forces, that the relief -was real, this time, and that the long siege of Lucknow was ended. - -<p>The last eight or ten miles of Sir Colin Campbell's march was through -seas of blood. The weapon mainly used was the bayonet, the fighting was -desperate. The way was mile-stoned with detached strong buildings of -stone, fortified, and heavily garrisoned, and these had to be taken by -assault. Neither side asked for quarter, and neither gave it. At the -Secundrabagh, where nearly two thousand of the enemy occupied a great -stone house in a garden, the work of slaughter was continued until every -man was killed. That is a sample of the character of that devastating -march. - -<p>There were but few trees in the plain at that time, and from the -Residency the progress of the march, step by step, victory by victory, -could be noted; the ascending clouds of battle-smoke marked the way to -the eye, and the thunder of the guns marked it to the ear. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p563.jpg (68K)" src="images/p563.jpg" height="372" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p563.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Sir Colin Campbell had not come to Lucknow to hold it, but to save the -occupants of the Residency, and bring them away. Four or five days after -his arrival the secret evacuation by the troops took place, in the middle -of a dark night, by the principal gate, (the Bailie Guard). The two -hundred women and two hundred and fifty children had been previously -removed. Captain Birch says: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "And now commenced a movement of the most perfect arrangement and - successful generalship—the withdrawal of the whole of the various - forces, a combined movement requiring the greatest care and skill. - First, the garrison in immediate contact with the enemy at the - furthest extremity of the Residency position was marched out. Every - other garrison in turn fell in behind it, and so passed out through - the Bailie Guard gate, till the whole of our position was evacuated. - Then Havelock's force was similarly withdrawn, post by post, - marching in rear of our garrison. After them in turn came the - forces of the Commander-in-Chief, which joined on in the rear of - Havelock's force. Regiment by regiment was withdrawn with the - utmost order and regularity. The whole operation resembled the - movement of a telescope. Stern silence was kept, and the enemy took - no alarm." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>Lady Inglis, referring to her husband and to General Sir James Outram, -sets down the closing detail of this impressive midnight retreat, in -darkness and by stealth, of this shadowy host through the gate which it -had defended so long and so well: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "At twelve precisely they marched out, John and Sir James Outram - remaining till all had passed, and then they took off their hats to - the Bailie Guard, the scene of as noble a defense as I think history - will ever have to relate." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p565.jpg (21K)" src="images/p565.jpg" height="385" width="537"> -</center> - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch59"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LIX.</h2> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p566.jpg (63K)" src="images/p566.jpg" height="366" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p566.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p><i>Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist -but you have ceased to live.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p><i>Often, the surest way to convey misinformation is to tell the strict -truth.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>We were driven over Sir Colin Campbell's route by a British officer, and -when I arrived at the Residency I was so familiar with the road that I -could have led a retreat over it myself; but the compass in my head has -been out of order from my birth, and so, as soon as I was within the -battered Bailie Guard and turned about to review the march and imagine -the relieving forces storming their way along it, everything was upside -down and wrong end first in a moment, and I was never able to get -straightened out again. And now, when I look at the battle-plan, the -confusion remains. In me the east was born west, the battle-plans which -have the east on the right-hand side are of no use to me. - -<p>The Residency ruins are draped with flowering vines, and are impressive -and beautiful. They and the grounds are sacred now, and will suffer no -neglect nor be profaned by any sordid or commercial use while the British -remain masters of India. Within the grounds are buried the dead who gave -up their lives there in the long siege. - -<p>After a fashion, I was able to imagine the fiery storm that raged night -and day over the place during so many months, and after a fashion I could -imagine the men moving through it, but I could not satisfactorily place -the 200 women, and I could do nothing at all with the 250 children. I -knew by Lady Inglis' diary that the children carried on their small -affairs very much as if blood and carnage and the crash and thunder of a -siege were natural and proper features of nursery life, and I tried to -realize it; but when her little Johnny came rushing, all excitement, -through the din and smoke, shouting, "Oh, mamma, the white hen has laid -an egg!" I saw that I could not do it. Johnny's place was under the -bed. I could imagine him there, because I could imagine myself there; -and I think I should not have been interested in a hen that was laying an -egg; my interest would have been with the parties that were laying the -bombshells. I sat at dinner with one of those children in the Club's -Indian palace, and I knew that all through the siege he was perfecting -his teething and learning to talk; and while to me he was the most -impressive object in Lucknow after the Residency ruins, I was not able to -imagine what his life had been during that tempestuous infancy of his, -nor what sort of a curious surprise it must have been to him to be -marched suddenly out into a strange dumb world where there wasn't any -noise, and nothing going on. He was only forty-one when I saw him, a -strangely youthful link to connect the present with so ancient an episode -as the Great Mutiny. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p568.jpg (53K)" src="images/p568.jpg" height="379" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p568.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>By and by we saw Cawnpore, and the open lot which was the scene of -Moore's memorable defense, and the spot on the shore of the Ganges where -the massacre of the betrayed garrison occurred, and the small Indian -temple whence the bugle-signal notified the assassins to fall on. This -latter was a lonely spot, and silent. The sluggish river drifted by, -almost currentless. It was dead low water, narrow channels with vast -sandbars between, all the way across the wide bed; and the only living -thing in sight was that grotesque and solemn bald-headed bird, the -Adjutant, standing on his six-foot stilts, solitary on a distant bar, -with his head sunk between his shoulders, thinking; thinking of his -prize, I suppose—the dead Hindoo that lay awash at his feet, and whether -to eat him alone or invite friends. He and his prey were a proper accent -to that mournful place. They were in keeping with it, they emphasized -its loneliness and its solemnity. - -<p>And we saw the scene of the slaughter of the helpless women and children, -and also the costly memorial that is built over the well which contains -their remains. The Black Hole of Calcutta is gone, but a more reverent -age is come, and whatever remembrancer still exists of the moving and -heroic sufferings and achievements of the garrisons of Lucknow and -Cawnpore will be guarded and preserved. - -<p>In Agra and its neighborhood, and afterwards at Delhi, we saw forts, -mosques, and tombs, which were built in the great days of the Mohammedan -emperors, and which are marvels of cost, magnitude, and richness of -materials and ornamentation, creations of surpassing grandeur, wonders -which do indeed make the like things in the rest of the world seem tame -and inconsequential by comparison. I am not purposing to describe them. -By good fortune I had not read too much about them, and therefore was -able to get a natural and rational focus upon them, with the result that -they thrilled, blessed, and exalted me. But if I had previously -overheated my imagination by drinking too much pestilential literary hot -Scotch, I should have suffered disappointment and sorrow. - -<p>I mean to speak of only one of these many world-renowned buildings, the -Taj Mahal, the most celebrated construction in the earth. I had read a -great deal too much about it. I saw it in the daytime, I saw it in the -moonlight, I saw it near at hand, I saw it from a distance; and I knew -all the time, that of its kind it was <i>the</i> wonder of the world, with no -competitor now and no possible future competitor; and yet, it was not <i>my</i> -Taj. <i>My</i> Taj had been built by excitable literary people; it was solidly -lodged in my head, and I could not blast it out. - -<p>I wish to place before the reader some of the usual descriptions of the -Taj, and ask him to take note of the impressions left in his mind. These -descriptions do really state the truth—as nearly as the limitations of -language will allow. But language is a treacherous thing, a most unsure -vehicle, and it can seldom arrange descriptive words in such a way that -they will not inflate the facts—by help of the reader's imagination, -which is always ready to take a hand, and work for nothing, and do the -bulk of it at that. - -<p>I will begin with a few sentences from the excellent little local -guide-book of Mr. Satya Chandra Mukerji. I take them from here and there in -his description: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "The inlaid work of the Taj and the flowers and petals that are to - be found on all sides on the surface of the marble evince a most - delicate touch." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>That is true. -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "The inlaid work, the marble, the flowers, the buds, the leaves, the - petals, and the lotus stems are almost without a rival in the whole - of the civilized world." - -<p> "The work of inlaying with stones and gems is found in the highest - perfection in the Taj." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>Gems, inlaid flowers, buds, and leaves to be found on all sides. What do -you see before you? Is the fairy structure growing? Is it becoming a -jewel casket? -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "The whole of the Taj produces a wonderful effect that is equally - sublime and beautiful." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>Then Sir William Wilson Hunter: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "The Taj Mahal with its beautiful domes, 'a dream of marble,' rises - on the river bank." - -<p> "The materials are white marble and red sandstone." - -<p> "The complexity of its design and the delicate intricacy of the - workmanship baffle description." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>Sir William continues. I will italicize some of his words: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "The mausoleum stands on a raised marble platform at each of whose - corners rises a tall and slender minaret of graceful proportions and - of exquisite beauty. Beyond the platform stretch the two wings, one - of which is itself a mosque of great architectural merit. In the - center of the whole design the mausoleum occupies a square of 186 - feet, with the angles deeply truncated so as to form an unequal - octagon. The main feature in this central pile is the great dome, - which swells upward to nearly two-thirds of a sphere and tapers at - its extremity into a pointed spire crowned by a crescent. Beneath - it an enclosure of marble trellis-work surrounds the tomb of the - princess and of her husband, the Emperor. Each corner of the - mausoleum is covered by a similar though much smaller dome erected - on a pediment pierced with graceful Saracenic arches. Light is - admitted into the interior through a double screen of pierced - marble, which tempers the glare of an Indian sky while its whiteness - prevents the mellow effect from degenerating into gloom. The - internal decorations consist of inlaid work in precious stones, such - as agate, jasper, etc., with which every squandril or salient point - in the architecture is richly fretted. Brown and violet marble is - also freely employed in wreaths, scrolls, and lintels to relieve the - monotony of white wall. In regard to color and design, the interior - of the Taj may rank first in the world for purely decorative - workmanship; while the perfect symmetry of its exterior, once seen - can never be forgotten, nor the aerial grace of its domes, rising - like marble bubbles into the clear sky. The Taj represents the most - highly elaborated stage of ornamentation reached by the - Indo-Mohammedan builders, the stage in which the architect ends and the - jeweler begins. In its magnificent gateway the diagonal - ornamentation at the corners, which satisfied the designers of the - gateways of Itimad-ud-doulah and Sikandra mausoleums is superseded - by fine marble cables, in bold twists, strong and handsome. The - triangular insertions of white marble and large flowers have in like - manner given place to fine inlaid work. Firm perpendicular lines in - black marble with well proportioned panels of the same material are - effectively used in the interior of the gateway. On its top the - Hindu brackets and monolithic architraves of Sikandra are replaced - by Moorish carped arches, usually single blocks of red sandstone, in - the Kiosks and pavilions which adorn the roof. From the pillared - pavilions a magnificent view is obtained of the Taj gardens below, - with the noble Jumna river at their farther end, and the city and - fort of Agra in the distance. From this beautiful and splendid - gateway one passes up a straight alley shaded by evergreen trees - cooled by a broad shallow piece of water running along the middle of - the path to the Taj itself. The Taj is entirely of marble and gems. - The red sandstone of the other Mohammedan buildings has entirely - disappeared, or rather the red sandstone which used to form the - thickness of the walls, is in the Taj itself overlaid completely - with white marble, and the white marble is itself inlaid with - precious stones arranged in lovely patterns of flowers. A feeling - of purity impresses itself on the eye and the mind from the absence - of the coarser material which forms so invariable a material in Agra - architecture. The lower wall and panels are covered with tulips, - oleanders, and fullblown lilies, in flat carving on the white - marble; and although the inlaid work of flowers done in gems is very - brilliant when looked at closely, there is on the whole but little - color, and the all-prevailing sentiment is one of whiteness, - silence, and calm. The whiteness is broken only by the fine color - of the inlaid gems, by lines in black marble, and by delicately - written inscriptions, also in black, from the Koran. Under the dome - of the vast mausoleum a high and beautiful screen of open tracery in - white marble rises around the two tombs, or rather cenotaphs of the - emperor and his princess; and in this marvel of marble the carving - has advanced from the old geometrical patterns to a trellis-work of - flowers and foliage, handled with great freedom and spirit. The two - cenotaphs in the center of the exquisite enclosure have no carving - except the plain Kalamdan or oblong pen-box on the tomb of Emperor - Shah Jehan. But both cenotaphs are inlaid with flowers made of - costly gems, and with the ever graceful oleander scroll." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>Bayard Taylor, after describing the details of the Taj, goes on to say: -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "On both sides the palm, the banyan, and the feathery bamboo mingle - their foliage; the song of birds meets your ears, and the odor of - roses and lemon flowers sweetens the air. Down such a vista and - over such a foreground rises the Taj. There is no mystery, no sense - of partial failure about the Taj. A thing of perfect beauty and of - absolute finish in every detail, it might pass for the work of genii - who knew naught of the weaknesses and ills with which mankind are - beset." -</blockquote></blockquote> -<p>All of these details are true. But, taken together, they state a -falsehood—to you. You cannot add them up correctly. Those writers know -the values of their words and phrases, but to you the words and phrases -convey other and uncertain values. To those writers their phrases have -values which I think I am now acquainted with; and for the help of the -reader I will here repeat certain of those words and phrases, and follow -them with numerals which shall represent those values—then we shall see -the difference between a writer's ciphering and a mistaken reader's: - -<p>Precious stones, such as agate, jasper, etc.—5. - -<p>With which every salient point is richly fretted—5. - -<p>First in the world for purely decorative workmanship—9. - -<p>The Taj represents the stage where the architect ends and the jeweler -begins—5. - -<p>The Taj is entirely of marble and gems—7. - -<p>Inlaid with precious stones in lovely patterns of flowers—5. - -<p>The inlaid work of flowers done in gems is very brilliant -(followed by a most important modification which the reader is sure to -read too carelessly)—2. - -<p>The vast mausoleum—5. - -<p>This marvel of marble—5. - -<p>The exquisite enclosure—5. - -<p>Inlaid with flowers made of costly gems—5. - -<p>A thing of perfect beauty and absolute finish—5. - -<p> -Those details are correct; the figures which I have placed after them -represent quite fairly their individual values. Then why, as a whole, -do they convey a false impression to the reader? It is because the -reader—beguiled by his heated imagination—masses them in the wrong -way. The writer would mass the first three figures in the following way, -and they would speak the truth. - -<p>Total—19 - -<p>But the reader masses them thus—and then they tell a lie—559. - -<p>The writer would add all of his twelve numerals together, and then the -sum would express the whole truth about the Taj, and the truth only—63. - -<p>But the reader—always helped by his imagination—would put the figures -in a row one after the other, and get this sum, which would tell him a -noble big lie: - -<p>559575255555. - -<p>You must put in the commas yourself; I have to go on with my work. - -<p>The reader will always be sure to put the figures together in that wrong -way, and then as surely before him will stand, sparkling in the sun, a -gem-crusted Taj tall as the Matterhorn. - -<p>I had to visit Niagara fifteen times before I succeeded in getting my -imaginary Falls gauged to the actuality and could begin to sanely and -wholesomely wonder at them for what they were, not what I had expected -them to be. When I first approached them it was with my face lifted -toward the sky, for I thought I was going to see an Atlantic ocean -pouring down thence over cloud-vexed Himalayan heights, a sea-green wall -of water sixty miles front and six miles high, and so, when the toy -reality came suddenly into view—that beruffled little wet apron hanging -out to dry—the shock was too much for me, and I fell with a dull thud. - -<p>Yet slowly, surely, steadily, in the course of my fifteen visits, the -proportions adjusted themselves to the facts, and I came at last to -realize that a waterfall a hundred and sixty-five feet high and a quarter -of a mile wide was an impressive thing. It was not a dipperful to my -vanished great vision, but it would answer. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p576.jpg (49K)" src="images/p576.jpg" height="1019" width="635"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>I know that I ought to do with the Taj as I was obliged to do with -Niagara—see it fifteen times, and let my mind gradually get rid of the -Taj built in it by its describers, by help of my imagination, and -substitute for it the Taj of fact. It would be noble and fine, then, and -a marvel; not the marvel which it replaced, but still a marvel, and fine -enough. I am a careless reader, I suppose—an impressionist reader; an -impressionist reader of what is not an impressionist picture; a reader -who overlooks the informing details or masses their sum improperly, and -gets only a large splashy, general effect—an effect which is not -correct, and which is not warranted by the particulars placed before me—particulars which I did not examine, and whose meanings I did not -cautiously and carefully estimate. It is an effect which is some -thirty-five or forty times finer than the reality, and is therefore a great deal -better and more valuable than the reality; and so, I ought never to hunt -up the reality, but stay miles away from it, and thus preserve undamaged -my own private mighty Niagara tumbling out of the vault of heaven, and my -own ineffable Taj, built of tinted mists upon jeweled arches of rainbows -supported by colonnades of moonlight. It is a mistake for a person with -an unregulated imagination to go and look at an illustrious world's -wonder. - -<p>I suppose that many, many years ago I gathered the idea that the Taj's -place in the achievements of man was exactly the place of the ice-storm -in the achievements of Nature; that the Taj represented man's supremest -possibility in the creation of grace and beauty and exquisiteness and -splendor, just as the ice-storm represents Nature's supremest possibility -in the combination of those same qualities. I do not know how long ago -that idea was bred in me, but I know that I cannot remember back to a -time when the thought of either of these symbols of gracious and -unapproachable perfection did not at once suggest the other. If I -thought of the ice-storm, the Taj rose before me divinely beautiful; if I -thought of the Taj, with its encrustings and inlayings of jewels, the -vision of the ice-storm rose. And so, to me, all these years, the Taj -has had no rival among the temples and palaces of men, none that even -remotely approached it—it was man's architectural ice-storm. - -<p>Here in London the other night I was talking with some Scotch and English -friends, and I mentioned the ice-storm, using it as a figure—a figure -which failed, for none of them had heard of the ice-storm. One -gentleman, who was very familiar with American literature, said he had -never seen it mentioned in any book. That is strange. And I, myself, -was not able to say that I had seen it mentioned in a book; and yet the -autumn foliage, with all other American scenery, has received full and -competent attention. - -<p>The oversight is strange, for in America the ice-storm is an event. And -it is not an event which one is careless about. When it comes, the news -flies from room to room in the house, there are bangings on the doors, -and shoutings, "The ice-storm! the ice-storm!" and even the laziest -sleepers throw off the covers and join the rush for the windows. The -ice-storm occurs in midwinter, and usually its enchantments are wrought -in the silence and the darkness of the night. A fine drizzling rain -falls hour after hour upon the naked twigs and branches of the trees, and -as it falls it freezes. In time the trunk and every branch and twig are -incased in hard pure ice; so that the tree looks like a skeleton tree -made all of glass—glass that is crystal-clear. All along the underside -of every branch and twig is a comb of little icicles—the frozen drip. -Sometimes these pendants do not quite amount to icicles, but are round -beads—frozen tears. - -<p>The weather clears, toward dawn, and leaves a brisk pure atmosphere and a -sky without a shred of cloud in it—and everything is still, there is not -a breath of wind. The dawn breaks and spreads, the news of the storm -goes about the house, and the little and the big, in wraps and blankets, -flock to the window and press together there, and gaze intently out upon -the great white ghost in the grounds, and nobody says a word, nobody -stirs. All are waiting; they know what is coming, and they are waiting -waiting for the miracle. The minutes drift on and on and on, with not a -sound but the ticking of the clock; at last the sun fires a sudden sheaf -of rays into the ghostly tree and turns it into a white splendor of -glittering diamonds. Everybody catches his breath, and feels a swelling -in his throat and a moisture in his eyes-but waits again; for he knows -what is coming; there is more yet. The sun climbs higher, and still -higher, flooding the tree from its loftiest spread of branches to its -lowest, turning it to a glory of white fire; then in a moment, without -warning, comes the great miracle, the supreme miracle, the miracle -without its fellow in the earth; a gust of wind sets every branch and -twig to swaying, and in an instant turns the whole white tree into a -spouting and spraying explosion of flashing gems of every conceivable -color; and there it stands and sways this way and that, flash! flash! -flash! a dancing and glancing world of rubies, emeralds, diamonds, -sapphires, the most radiant spectacle, the most blinding spectacle, the -divinest, the most exquisite, the most intoxicating vision of fire and -color and intolerable and unimaginable splendor that ever any eye has -rested upon in this world, or will ever rest upon outside of the gates of -heaven. - -<p>By all my senses, all my faculties, I know that the icestorm is Nature's -supremest achievement in the domain of the superb and the beautiful; and -by my reason, at least, I know that the Taj is man's ice-storm. - -<p>In the ice-storm every one of the myriad ice-beads pendant from twig and -branch is an individual gem, and changes color with every motion caused -by the wind; each tree carries a million, and a forest-front exhibits the -splendors of the single tree multiplied by a thousand. - -<p>It occurs to me now that I have never seen the ice-storm put upon canvas, -and have not heard that any painter has tried to do it. I wonder why -that is. Is it that paint cannot counterfeit the intense blaze of a -sun-flooded jewel? There should be, and must be, a reason, and a good one, -why the most enchanting sight that Nature has created has been neglected -by the brush. - -<p>Often, the surest way to convey misinformation is to tell the strict -truth. The describers of the Taj have used the word gem in its strictest -sense—its scientific sense. In that sense it is a mild word, and -promises but little to the eye—nothing bright, nothing brilliant, nothing -sparkling, nothing splendid in the way of color. It accurately describes -the sober and unobtrusive gem-work of the Taj; that is, to the very -highly-educated one person in a thousand; but it most falsely describes -it to the 999. But the 999 are the people who ought to be especially -taken care of, and to them it does not mean quiet-colored designs wrought -in carnelians, or agates, or such things; they know the word in its wide -and ordinary sense only, and so to them it means diamonds and rubies and -opals and their kindred, and the moment their eyes fall upon it in print -they see a vision of glorious colors clothed in fire. - -<p>These describers are writing for the "general," and so, in order to make -sure of being understood, they ought to use words in their ordinary -sense, or else explain. The word fountain means one thing in Syria, -where there is but a handful of people; it means quite another thing in -North America, where there are 75,000,000. If I were describing some -Syrian scenery, and should exclaim, "Within the narrow space of a quarter -of a mile square I saw, in the glory of the flooding moonlight, two -hundred noble fountains—imagine the spectacle!" the North American would -have a vision of clustering columns of water soaring aloft, bending over -in graceful arches, bursting in beaded spray and raining white fire in -the moonlight-and he would be deceived. But the Syrian would not be -deceived; he would merely see two hundred fresh-water springs—two -hundred drowsing puddles, as level and unpretentious and unexcited as so -many door-mats, and even with the help of the moonlight he would not lose -his grip in the presence of the exhibition. My word "fountain" would be -correct; it would speak the strict truth; and it would convey the strict -truth to the handful of Syrians, and the strictest misinformation to the -North American millions. With their gems—and gems—and more gems—and -gems again—and still other gems—the describers of the Taj are within -their legal but not their moral rights; they are dealing in the strictest -scientific truth; and in doing it they succeed to admiration in telling -"what ain't so." - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch60"></a><br><br>CHAPTER LX.</h2> - -<p><i>SATAN (impatiently) to NEW-COMER. The trouble with you Chicago people -is, that you think you are the best people down here; whereas you are -merely the most numerous.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>We wandered contentedly around here and there in India; to Lahore, among -other places, where the Lieutenant-Governor lent me an elephant. This -hospitality stands out in my experiences in a stately isolation. It was -a fine elephant, affable, gentlemanly, educated, and I was not afraid of -it. I even rode it with confidence through the crowded lanes of the -native city, where it scared all the horses out of their senses, and -where children were always just escaping its feet. It took the middle of -the road in a fine independent way, and left it to the world to get out -of the way or take the consequences. I am used to being afraid of -collisions when I ride or drive, but when one is on top of an elephant -that feeling is absent. I could have ridden in comfort through a -regiment of runaway teams. I could easily learn to prefer an elephant to -any other vehicle, partly because of that immunity from collisions, and -partly because of the fine view one has from up there, and partly because -of the dignity one feels in that high place, and partly because one can -look in at the windows and see what is going on privately among the -family. The Lahore horses were used to elephants, but they were -rapturously afraid of them just the same. It seemed curious. Perhaps -the better they know the elephant the more they respect him in that -peculiar way. In our own case—we are not afraid of dynamite till we get -acquainted with it. - -<p>We drifted as far as Rawal Pindi, away up on the Afghan frontier—I think -it was the Afghan frontier, but it may have been Hertzegovina—it was -around there somewhere—and down again to Delhi, to see the ancient -architectural wonders there and in Old Delhi and not describe them, and -also to see the scene of the illustrious assault, in the Mutiny days, -when the British carried Delhi by storm, one of the marvels of history -for impudent daring and immortal valor. - -<p>We had a refreshing rest, there in Delhi, in a great old mansion which -possessed historical interest. It was built by a rich Englishman who had -become orientalized—so much so that he had a zenana. But he was a -broadminded man, and remained so. To please his harem he built a mosque; -to please himself he built an English church. That kind of a man will -arrive, somewhere. In the Mutiny days the mansion was the British -general's headquarters. It stands in a great garden—oriental -fashion—and about it are many noble trees. The trees harbor monkeys; and they -are monkeys of a watchful and enterprising sort, and not much troubled -with fear. They invade the house whenever they get a chance, and carry -off everything they don't want. One morning the master of the house was -in his bath, and the window was open. Near it stood a pot of yellow -paint and a brush. Some monkeys appeared in the window; to scare them -away, the gentleman threw his sponge at them. They did not scare at all; -they jumped into the room and threw yellow paint all over him from the -brush, and drove him out; then they painted the walls and the floor and -the tank and the windows and the furniture yellow, and were in the -dressing-room painting that when help arrived and routed them. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p585.jpg (55K)" src="images/p585.jpg" height="1005" width="553"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Two of these creatures came into my room in the early morning, through a -window whose shutters I had left open, and when I woke one of them was -before the glass brushing his hair, and the other one had my note-book, -and was reading a page of humorous notes and crying. I did not mind the -one with the hair-brush, but the conduct of the other one hurt me; it -hurts me yet. I threw something at him, and that was wrong, for my host -had told me that the monkeys were best left alone. They threw everything -at me that they could lift, and then went into the bathroom to get some -more things, and I shut the door on them. - -<p>At Jeypore, in Rajputana, we made a considerable stay. We were not in -the native city, but several miles from it, in the small European -official suburb. There were but few Europeans—only fourteen but they -were all kind and hospitable, and it amounted to being at home. In -Jeypore we found again what we had found all about India—that while the -Indian servant is in his way a very real treasure, he will sometimes bear -watching, and the Englishman watches him. If he sends him on an errand, -he wants more than the man's word for it that he did the errand. When -fruit and vegetables were sent to us, a "chit" came with them—a receipt -for us to sign; otherwise the things might not arrive. If a gentleman -sent up his carriage, the chit stated "from" such-and-such an hour "to" -such-and-such an hour—which made it unhandy for the coachman and his two -or three subordinates to put us off with a part of the allotted time and -devote the rest of it to a lark of their own. - -<p>We were pleasantly situated in a small two-storied inn, in an empty large -compound which was surrounded by a mud wall as high as a man's head. The -inn was kept by nine Hindoo brothers, its owners. They lived, with their -families, in a one-storied building within the compound, but off to one -side, and there was always a long pile of their little comely brown -children loosely stacked in its veranda, and a detachment of the parents -wedged among them, smoking the hookah or the howdah, or whatever they -call it. By the veranda stood a palm, and a monkey lived in it, and led -a lonesome life, and always looked sad and weary, and the crows bothered -him a good deal. - -<p>The inn cow poked about the compound and emphasized the secluded and -country air of the place, and there was a dog of no particular breed, who -was always present in the compound, and always asleep, always stretched -out baking in the sun and adding to the deep tranquility and -reposefulness of the place, when the crows were away on business. -White-draperied servants were coming and going all the time, but they seemed -only spirits, for their feet were bare and made no sound. Down the lane -a piece lived an elephant in the shade of a noble tree, and rocked and -rocked, and reached about with his trunk, begging of his brown mistress -or fumbling the children playing at his feet. And there were camels -about, but they go on velvet feet, and were proper to the silence and -serenity of the surroundings. - -<p>The Satan mentioned at the head of this chapter was not our Satan, but -the other one. Our Satan was lost to us. In these later days he had -passed out of our life—lamented by me, and sincerely. I was missing -him; I am missing him yet, after all these months. He was an astonishing -creature to fly around and do things. He didn't always do them quite -right, but he did them, and did them suddenly. There was no time wasted. -You would say: - -<p>"Pack the trunks and bags, Satan." - -<p>"Wair good" (very good). - -<p>Then there would be a brief sound of thrashing and slashing and humming -and buzzing, and a spectacle as of a whirlwind spinning gowns and jackets -and coats and boots and things through the air, and then with bow and -touch— - -<p>"Awready, master." - -<p>It was wonderful. It made one dizzy. He crumpled dresses a good deal, -and he had no particular plan about the work—at first—except to put -each article into the trunk it didn't belong in. But he soon reformed, -in this matter. Not entirely; for, to the last, he would cram into the -satchel sacred to literature any odds and ends of rubbish that he -couldn't find a handy place for elsewhere. When threatened with death -for this, it did not trouble him; he only looked pleasant, saluted with -soldierly grace, said "Wair good," and did it again next day. - -<p>He was always busy; kept the rooms tidied up, the boots polished, the -clothes brushed, the wash-basin full of clean water, my dress clothes -laid out and ready for the lecture-hall an hour ahead of time; and he -dressed me from head to heel in spite of my determination to do it -myself, according to my lifelong custom. - -<p>He was a born boss, and loved to command, and to jaw and dispute with -inferiors and harry them and bullyrag them. He was fine at the railway -station—yes, he was at his finest there. He would shoulder and plunge -and paw his violent way through the packed multitude of natives with -nineteen coolies at his tail, each bearing a trifle of luggage—one a -trunk, another a parasol, another a shawl, another a fan, and so on; one -article to each, and the longer the procession, the better he was -suited—and he was sure to make for some engaged sleeper and begin to hurl the -owner's things out of it, swearing that it was ours and that there had -been a mistake. Arrived at our own sleeper, he would undo the -bedding-bundles and make the beds and put everything to rights and shipshape in -two minutes; then put his head out at a window and have a restful good -time abusing his gang of coolies and disputing their bill until we -arrived and made him pay them and stop his noise. - -<p>Speaking of noise, he certainly was the noisest little devil in -India—and that is saying much, very much, indeed. I loved him for his noise, -but the family detested him for it. They could not abide it; they could -not get reconciled to it. It humiliated them. As a rule, when we got -within six hundred yards of one of those big railway stations, a mighty -racket of screaming and shrieking and shouting and storming would break -upon us, and I would be happy to myself, and the family would say, with -shame: - -<p>"There—that's Satan. Why do you keep him?" - -<p>And, sure enough, there in the whirling midst of fifteen hundred -wondering people we would find that little scrap of a creature -gesticulating like a spider with the colic, his black eyes snapping, his -fez-tassel dancing, his jaws pouring out floods of billingsgate upon his -gang of beseeching and astonished coolies. - -<p>I loved him; I couldn't help it; but the family—why, they could hardly -speak of him with patience. To this day I regret his loss, and wish I -had him back; but they—it is different with them. He was a native, and -came from Surat. Twenty degrees of latitude lay between his birthplace -and Manuel's, and fifteen hundred between their ways and characters and -dispositions. I only liked Manuel, but I loved Satan. This latter's -real name was intensely Indian. I could not quite get the hang of it, -but it sounded like Bunder Rao Ram Chunder Clam Chowder. It was too long -for handy use, anyway; so I reduced it. - -<p>When he had been with us two or three weeks, he began to make mistakes -which I had difficulty in patching up for him. Approaching Benares one -day, he got out of the train to see if he could get up a misunderstanding -with somebody, for it had been a weary, long journey and he wanted to -freshen up. He found what he was after, but kept up his pow-wow a shade -too long and got left. So there we were in a strange city and no -chambermaid. It was awkward for us, and we told him he must not do so -any more. He saluted and said in his dear, pleasant way, "Wair good." -Then at Lucknow he got drunk. I said it was a fever, and got the -family's compassion, and solicitude aroused; so they gave him a -teaspoonful of liquid quinine and it set his vitals on fire. He made -several grimaces which gave me a better idea of the Lisbon earthquake -than any I have ever got of it from paintings and descriptions. His -drunk was still portentously solid next morning, but I could have pulled -him through with the family if he would only have taken another spoonful -of that remedy; but no, although he was stupefied, his memory still had -flickerings of life; so he smiled a divinely dull smile and said, -fumblingly saluting: - -<p>"Scoose me, mem Saheb, scoose me, Missy Saheb; Satan not prefer it, -please." - -<p>Then some instinct revealed to them that he was drunk. They gave him -prompt notice that next time this happened he must go. He got out a -maudlin and most gentle "Wair good," and saluted indefinitely. - -<p>Only one short week later he fell again. And oh, sorrow! not in a hotel -this time, but in an English gentleman's private house. And in Agra, of -all places. So he had to go. When I told him, he said patiently, "Wair -good," and made his parting salute, and went out from us to return no -more forever. Dear me! I would rather have lost a hundred angels than -that one poor lovely devil. What style he used to put on, in a swell -hotel or in a private house—snow-white muslin from his chin to his bare -feet, a crimson sash embroidered with gold thread around his waist, and -on his head a great sea-green turban like to the turban of the Grand -Turk. - -<p>He was not a liar; but he will become one if he keeps on. He told me -once that he used to crack cocoanuts with his teeth when he was a boy; -and when I asked how he got them into his mouth, he said he was upward of -six feet high at that time, and had an unusual mouth. And when I -followed him up and asked him what had become of that other foot, he said -a house fell on him and he was never able to get his stature back again. -Swervings like these from the strict line of fact often beguile a -truthful man on and on until he eventually becomes a liar. - -<p>His successor was a Mohammedan, Sahadat Mohammed Khan; very dark, very -tall, very grave. He went always in flowing masses of white, from the -top of his big turban down to his bare feet. His voice was low. He -glided about in a noiseless way, and looked like a ghost. He was -competent and satisfactory. But where he was, it seemed always Sunday. -It was not so in Satan's time. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p592.jpg (60K)" src="images/p592.jpg" height="373" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p592.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Jeypore is intensely Indian, but it has two or three features which -indicate the presence of European science and European interest in the -weal of the common public, such as the liberal water-supply furnished by -great works built at the State's expense; good sanitation, resulting in a -degree of healthfulness unusually high for India; a noble pleasure -garden, with privileged days for women; schools for the instruction of -native youth in advanced art, both ornamental and utilitarian; and a new -and beautiful palace stocked with a museum of extraordinary interest and -value. Without the Maharaja's sympathy and purse these beneficences -could not have been created; but he is a man of wide views and large -generosities, and all such matters find hospitality with him. - -<p>We drove often to the city from the hotel Kaiser-i-Hind, a journey which -was always full of interest, both night and day, for that country road -was never quiet, never empty, but was always India in motion, always a -streaming flood of brown people clothed in smouchings from the rainbow, a -tossing and moiling flood, happy, noisy, a charming and satisfying -confusion of strange human and strange animal life and equally strange -and outlandish vehicles. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p595.jpg (62K)" src="images/p595.jpg" height="380" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p595.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>And the city itself is a curiosity. Any Indian city is that, but this -one is not like any other that we saw. It is shut up in a lofty turreted -wall; the main body of it is divided into six parts by perfectly straight -streets that are more than a hundred feet wide; the blocks of houses -exhibit a long frontage of the most taking architectural quaintnesses, -the straight lines being broken everywhere by pretty little balconies, -pillared and highly ornamented, and other cunning and cozy and inviting -perches and projections, and many of the fronts are curiously pictured by -the brush, and the whole of them have the soft rich tint of strawberry -ice-cream. One cannot look down the far stretch of the chief street and -persuade himself that these are real houses, and that it is all out of -doors—the impression that it is an unreality, a picture, a scene in a -theater, is the only one that will take hold. - -<p>Then there came a great day when this illusion was more pronounced than -ever. A rich Hindoo had been spending a fortune upon the manufacture of -a crowd of idols and accompanying paraphernalia whose purpose was to -illustrate scenes in the life of his especial god or saint, and this fine -show was to be brought through the town in processional state at ten in -the morning. As we passed through the great public pleasure garden on -our way to the city we found it crowded with natives. That was one -sight. Then there was another. In the midst of the spacious lawns -stands the palace which contains the museum—a beautiful construction of -stone which shows arched colonnades, one above another, and receding, -terrace-fashion, toward the sky. Every one of these terraces, all the -way to the top one, was packed and jammed with natives. One must try to -imagine those solid masses of splendid color, one above another, up and -up, against the blue sky, and the Indian sun turning them all to beds of -fire and flame. - -<p>Later, when we reached the city, and glanced down the chief avenue, -smouldering in its crushed-strawberry tint, those splendid effects were -repeated; for every balcony, and every fanciful bird-cage of a snuggery -countersunk in the house-fronts, and all the long lines of roofs were -crowded with people, and each crowd was an explosion of brilliant color. - -<p>Then the wide street itself, away down and down and down into the -distance, was alive with gorgeously-clothed people not still, but moving, -swaying, drifting, eddying, a delirious display of all colors and all -shades of color, delicate, lovely, pale, soft, strong, stunning, vivid, -brilliant, a sort of storm of sweetpea blossoms passing on the wings of a -hurricane; and presently, through this storm of color, came swaying and -swinging the majestic elephants, clothed in their Sunday best of -gaudinesses, and the long procession of fanciful trucks freighted with -their groups of curious and costly images, and then the long rearguard of -stately camels, with their picturesque riders. - -<p>For color, and picturesqueness, and novelty, and outlandishness, and -sustained interest and fascination, it was the most satisfying show I had -ever seen, and I suppose I shall not have the privilege of looking upon -its like again. - -<br><br> - -<br><br> - - -<center> -<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> -<tr><td> - <a href="p5.htm">Previous Part</a> -</td><td> - <a href="2895-h.htm">Main Index</a> -</td><td> - <a href="p7.htm">Next Part</a> - -</td></tr> -</table> -</center> - -</body> -</html> - |