GEORGE FORSTER.
Born about 1750.—Died 1791.
Born about 1750.—Died 1791.
Born about 1750.—Died 1791.
Itis greatly to be regretted that of the life of this able and adventurous traveller little is known, excepting that portion which was spent in acquiring his reputation. He seems to have been born about the year 1750. At the usual age he entered into the civil service of the East India Company, and was appointed to fill the office of writer at the Madras presidency. Here he gradually rose in the usual manner to offices of trust and emolument until the year 1782, when he obtained permission to visit his friends in England. Instead of adopting the usual mode of returning by sea, he formed the hazardous design of proceeding through the upper provinces of India, Afghanistân, and Persia, into the Russian empire, and thence by sea to England.
Fully aware of the difficulties and dangers of the route, he made every necessary preparation which could be effected in India, obtained bills upon merchants in various cities on his road, and, still further to ensure his safety, determined to adopt the Mohammedan character as soon as he should quit the British territories. With these views he proceeded to Calcutta in the spring of 1782, and, having remained some time at that city, set out on the 23d of May on his journey up the country. His mind was naturally full of those recent and memorable events which established the British power in India; and he visited with peculiar interest several of those fields where our countrymen had won their bloody laurels, and shattered to pieces the mighty fabric of the Mogul empire.
Having visited Burhampore, Moorshedabad, and other places celebrated in the history of India, he on the 25th of June embarked in a boat on the main branch of the Ganges. The river in this place was four miles broad, and, being agitated by a strong wind, which threw the water into short breaking waves, resembled an arm of the sea. The same evening he arrived at Rajmahal. This place, which had lately been the principal city and favourite residence of a powerful and opulent chief, was now reduced to the condition of an insignificant town, which, but for its historical importance, and the mounds of ruins interspersed among the modern buildings, would have possessed but few claims to the attention of the traveller. Forster, who, though by no means of a gloomy disposition, was rather given to moralizing upon the wrecks of ancient grandeur,—a habit which in a country like Hindostan may be easily indulged,—sauntered out in the twilight among the ruined buildings upon the banks of the river, where he found an old man employed in digging. With this remnant of the past age, who happened to be more intelligent and communicative than ordinary, he entered into conversation, and from him learned many particulars of the history of Rajmahal. This spot, he observed, which he was then cultivating, was the site of theNobet Ghah, or music-hall, of the old palace; and that within his recollection a capacious garden had extended in front of his little enclosure, which the Ganges had now swept away.
From Rajmahal he proceeded to Monghee, and from thence to Patna, where he arrived on the 5th of July. This city, which, according to the opinion of several modern geographers, occupies the site of the ancient Palibothra, is still a spacious and populous place, enriched by its opium and saltpetre manufactories. Being here, he could not resist the desire to visit the spot on which a number of English prisoners were massacred in 1763, by order of CassimAli, then retreating before our army. The sanguinary command was executed by Sumroo, a German. A monument, but without any inscription, has been erected on the place.
On the 26th of July he arrived at Benares, a city which, for its wealth, costly buildings, and the number of its inhabitants, was considered the first then remaining in the possession of the Hindoos. Hither the professors of the confused and intricate, but frequently sublime, theology of Brahma had retired from all parts of Hindostan as the most holy spot on earth. Being conversant with the language necessary for the conducting of such researches, Forster devoted the time spent at Benares in endeavouring to penetrate, as far as a stranger was permitted, into the mysteries of Brahminism. This subject, after all the researches which have been made by Europeans, is still enveloped in much obscurity. It is not known whether, commencing in the grossest polytheism, the sages of Hindostan gradually elevated their minds to the knowledge of one supreme and invisible God, or, commencing with this simple and sublime truth, degenerated into polytheism and idolatry. The latter is the prevalent theory. It is thought more rational to imagine, that while in every other department of knowledge mankind proceeded from the less to the greater, and by constant exercise improved their mind, the only instrument which man possesses for measuring the universe, their progress in theology, if I may so express myself, has in general been retrograde, at least in Hindostan. Forster was of this opinion. “There is reason,” he says, “to believe, that in the more early periods of time, before the priests of the Hindoos had found it expedient, for the firmer establishment of their sway over the minds of the people, to raise a huge superstructure of emblematical worship, the temples erected to the Supreme Being were plain and void of personification. The remains of one ofthese are now to be seen on the summit of a hill near the city of Kashmere, which, according to tradition, had been dedicated to the Creator of the world. In this the prayers of those who entered were addressed to the Deity, without supplicating the intercession of any intermediate agent, nor had any image or symbol of the Divine Power a place.” He was likewise informed that at Chillambram, about twenty miles southward of Cuddalore, there was another Hindoo religious edifice, plain, and without any interior figure, which was devoted to the worship of the “Invisible God,” and was never approached but with tokens of profound awe and reverence.
The foundation upon which this theory, which is totally at variance with the history of human nature, has been erected, it is not difficult to discover. In the most remote and barbarous ages of the world, as in all other times, some few men of superior intellect and genius arose, to whom profound meditation and an ardent desire of truth revealed the unity of the Divine nature. These men, perhaps, uniting eloquence with the enthusiasm of virtue, became the nucleus of a small sect of pure worshippers, erected temples to the true God, and laboured to transmit the light of truth to posterity. But these could never have been more in those times than feeble points of light in the thick moral darkness which brooded over the globe; and although their temples and the tradition of their creed may in some instances have been preserved, it would be an abuse of common sense to infer from their enlightenment a general diffusion of knowledge in their times, in opposition to innumerable monuments attesting their extreme ignorance and debasement.
It is not my intention, however, to follow Mr. Forster in his inquiries, which are curious and liberal, into the mythology and philosophy of the Hindoos. The subject has been discussed by others,whose advantages and acquirements I am very far from possessing; and although I am not on all occasions satisfied with the explanations of Sir William Jones or Mr. Colebrook, I should, even with the aid of our ingenious traveller, despair of carrying light into the works which they have left in obscurity.
Having spent three months in conversing with the Brahmins, and endeavouring to see his way through the obscure mazes of their religious system, Forster set out on the 3d of November on an excursion to Bijjighur, a place rendered famous, he observes, in the Bengal annals, from a large amount of plunder acquired there by the English. His first day’s journey brought him to Luttufghur, about eighteen miles south of Benares. The fort, situated in the centre of a circular range of hills, and approached on all sides through a dense and lofty forest, was now deserted, and the passages leading to it were nearly choked up with trees. The circulation of the air being greatly impeded by the hills and woods, the atmosphere had acquired a malignant quality, which, exerting its influence on all animal bodies, produced what in India is termed the hill-fever. In all places of this kind, as, for example, at the southern foot of the Gurwal and Kemaoon mountains, the water partakes of the baneful quality of the air, by which in part it seems to be impregnated with its pestiferous properties, which may, however, be aggravated by the continual falling of branches and leaves into the rivulets and reservoirs.
In this desolate and deserted spot, where the elements array themselves in properties so hostile to life, our traveller found a Mohammedan fakeer, who had taken up his lonely residence at the gate of the fort. He was meager, wan, and nearly consumed by the effects of fever and ague; but when he was advised to leave so melancholy a situation, and go to some other place where he might recover his health, he replied, that he preferred an existence where hewas, though under a load of misery, to the chance of starving in districts where he should be wholly unknown.
The view from the fort of Bijjighur, where he arrived next day, is highly diversified and magnificent; but when you throw the eye on the deep and rugged precipice beneath, the prospect is infinitely grand, though not divested of that horror which naturally affects the mind when contemplating objects from so abrupt a height. The rising and setting sun here exhibits a magnificent scene, and excites a train of ideas strongly impressed with a grateful admiration of the First Cause of nature. The view of the setting sun takes in the river Saone, which is seen winding its stream, brightened by the rays of the western light, through a long tract of diversified country. A fort also appears on the side of a distant hill, which is only brought out in the evening prospect.
Returning from thence to Benares, he assumed for his greater safety the name of a Georgian, and on the 12th of December set out for Allahabad. On this road, and indeed on almost every other in India, the traveller seldom fails meeting with a public lodging or a reservoir of water, where he may perform his ablutions and quench his thirst. In every respectable village there is a caravansary, of which the stationary tenants are frequently women, some of whom are very pretty. These approach the traveller on his entrance, and in alluring language describe the various excellences of their several lodgings; and when the choice is made, which, says Forster, is often perplexing, so many are the inducements thrown out on all sides, a bed is laid out for his repose, a smoking-pipe is brought, and the utensils are cleansed for preparing his repast.
From Allahabad he went on to Lucknow, the capital of the kingdom of Oude, a large but irregular and filthy city, which contains little worthy the noticeof a traveller. Here he remained some time, however, and then proceeded through the Delhi province to Rampoor, near the foot of the Kemaoon hills. On setting out from this town he enjoyed a complete view of the Himalaya mountains, covered with eternal snows, and forming the boundary between Hindostan and Tibet.
On arriving at Najebabad, a town built by Najeb ud Dowlah to facilitate the commerce of Kashmere, he found that the only caravansary in the place was occupied, and thought himself fortunate in being admitted into a cook’s shop, where kabobs and beefsteaks were dressed in savoury taste for the public. A better place for observing the manners of the people he could scarcely have chosen. It was what a coffee-house is in London, the resort of all the newsmongers, idlers, politicians, and disbanded soldiers of the district. Here, while he was eating his dinner, he saw a boy enter, who inquired whether there were any travellers going to Kashmere or Jummoo, as the kafilah would depart next day. Upon inquiry, he found that this kafilah consisted of about one hundred mules laden with raw silk, cotton cloths, and ordinary calicoes for the Jummoo markets. By a banker, to whom he had been furnished with a letter, he was introduced to the merchants of the kafilah, who readily received him into their company. He now dropped the character of a Georgian, and represented himself as a Turkish merchant going into Kashmere to purchase shawls. To accompany him in this journey he hired a Kashmerian servant, “a fellow of infinite jest,” whose memory was stored with a thousand stories, every one of which he embellished in the telling of it. He was otherwise an active and excellent servant.
With this kafilah he left Najebabad on the 14th of February, 1783, and on the 15th arrived at Lolldong, where the province of Delhi is separated from that of Serinagur, or Gurwal, by a small rivulet. Onthe north of this rivulet the kafilah now encamped, and each of its members was soon busily engaged in preparing for their journey through the forest, which it was computed would occupy three days. The extreme heat of the weather rendering a tent or some substitute for one absolutely necessary, Forster purchased a large black kummul or blanket, which, being slantingly extended over a slight bamboo frame, composed of a ridge-pole upheld by two supporters, and fastened below by small pins, formed a commodious and portable lodging. His baggage, consisting of a thin mattress, a quilt, a canvass portmanteau containing a few changes of linen, which served for a pillow, together with the kummul, was stowed behind him upon his horse. The Kashmerian followed on foot.
Leaving Lolldong on the 22d, they began to ascend the mountains. Next day, as they continued their march through the forest, Forster, overcome by fatigue, sat down under a tree to enjoy his pipe; but while he was thus engaged, having apparently sunk into that dreaming state which smoking sometimes induces, the kafilah moved on and disappeared. The ground being thickly covered with leaves, no trace of a road was discernible; and when he mounted to proceed, his horse, either terrified by the effluvia of wild beasts lurking among the trees, or perceiving the embarrassment of their situation, could with difficulty be made to proceed in any direction. However, he was at length forcibly put in motion; but after traversing the forest in various directions, without perceiving either road or habitation, or the vestige of any creature, except great quantities of elephants’ dung, he discovered a narrow path leading through a wilderness to a small valley, whose inhabitants kindly conducted him to the halting-place of the kafilah.
In two days they arrived on the banks of the Ganges, twelve miles above Hardwar. It was hereabout two hundred yards broad, from ten to fifteen feet deep, and rolled along rapidly through gloomy forests or barren flats. The woods in these parts abounded with wild peacocks. On the 6th of March he crossed the Jumma, which here equalled the Ganges in breadth; both, however, were at their lowest ebb. The scenery all the way from Lolldong to the Ganges is woody, mountainous, and picturesque; and the principal game are wild elephants, which are hunted merely for their tusks. Before them, to the north, was the vast snowy range of the Himalaya, among the inaccessible pinnacles of which the Hindoo has placed the heaven of India. Among the roots of this Indian Olympus, which stretch out their rough huge masses far into the plains below, affording safe haunts for tigers and banditti, the kafilah toiled along, continually ascending, towards Kashmere.
On the 20th of March they arrived at Bellaspoor, on the frontiers of the Punjâb, or country of the five rivers. Here they remained three days, when, growing weary of attending the slow motions of the caravan, our traveller, with his servant and another Kashmerian, pushed forward, crossed the Sutlej, and on the 25th arrived at the camp of the Rannee of Bellaspoor, then engaged in war with the chief of Kangrah. The encampment of these rude soldiers was a curious spectacle. Eight thousand foot and three hundred horse, armed with matchlocks, swords, spears, and clubs, were huddled together in extreme confusion on two sides of a hill, under small sheds composed of the boughs of trees. Four ordinary tents, the only ones in the camp, afforded shelter to the general and the principal officers.
Forster now learned that his progress towards the enemy’s army, unless accompanied by an escort, would be attended with much danger; and he accordingly applied for the necessary protection to the commander-in-chief, whom he found sitting undera banyan-tree, surrounded by a number of naked officers, and reviewing some new levies who had just come in from the woods. These wild recruits, hitherto accustomed to a life of licentious freedom, appeared to be so many members of the fawn and satyr family, so fierce were their looks, so rude their costume. On explaining his desires to the general, he obtained a promise to be allowed to accompany the first messenger who should be despatched to the Kangrah camp.
However, our traveller was shortly afterward delivered from the necessity of depending on the protection of this uncouth mountaineer by the arrival of a drove of asses laden with iron, which was pursuing the route to Kashmere. To this party he now joined himself, and, bidding adieu to the rannee’s army, he proceeded towards that of the Kangrah chief, which, after plundering the ironmongers of a considerable sum, and putting the whole body in great terror, affected to treat them with civility. In this army there was a large detachment of Sikh horsemen, and it was them that Forster, who well understood their licentious manners and habits of plundering, principally dreaded. At this moment, therefore, he would willingly have sacrificed the moiety of his property to ensure the remainder. But there was no retreating; they were already in sight; so, assuming to the best of his ability an air of confidence and ease, he boldly advanced into the midst of these formidable marauders. “Imagining our approach,” says he, “to be that of the enemy, the Sikhs were preparing for the fight, to which they loudly exclaimed, in the tone of religious ejaculation, that their prophet had summoned them. In token of respect I had dismounted, and was leading my horse, when a Sikh, a smart fellow, mounted on an active mare, touched me in passing. The high-mettled animal, whether in contempt of me or my horse, perhaps of both, attacked us fiercely from therear, and in the assault, which was violent, the Sikh fell to the ground. The action having commenced on the top of a hill, he rolled with great rapidity to the bottom of it, and in his way down left behind him his matchlock, sword, and turban. So complete a derangement I feared would have irritated the whole Sikh body; but on evincing the show of much sorrow for the disaster, and having assiduously assisted in investing the fallen horseman with his scattered appurtenances, I received general thanks.”
It was about the middle of April when Forster arrived at Jummoo, where, being supposed to be a merchant from whom some advantage might be derived, he was received by a Kashmerian with truly oriental expressions of welcome. Upon a banker in this city he had a bill for a considerable amount; but on examining it he found, that having been frequently soaked by the rain, and by his having fallen into a river on the way, the folds adhered together as if they had been pasted. However, the banker contrived, by steeping it in water, to decipher its import, and at once paid the money; though its shattered condition might have afforded him a sufficient pretext for delay. Being thus furnished with cash, our traveller began to think of enjoying the pleasures of Jummoo.
The trade and consequent wealth of this city arose from the insecurity of the road through Lahore, occasioned by the invasion of the Sikhs, which caused merchants to prefer this tedious and difficult but secure route. All articles of merchandise constituting the trade between Kashmere and Jummoo are transported by men, principally Kashmerians, who carry their extremely heavy burdens, two of which are considered a load for a strong mule, upon their back, as a soldier does his knapsack. When he desires to rest, the porter places under his pack a kind of short crutch, which he uses in walking. “The shawls, when exported from Kashmere, are packedin an oblong bale containing a certain weight or quantity, which in the language of the country is termed abiddery, the outward covering of which is a buffalo or ox’s hide, strongly sewed with leather thongs. As these packages are supposed to amount, with little variation, to a value long since ascertained, they are seldom opened until conveyed to the destined market.”
On the 17th of April he set out on foot from Jummoo, accompanied by a Kashmerian servant. The roads were steep and rocky; and not having been much accustomed to travelling on foot, he soon found that it would be necessary to proceed more slowly. His feet, in fact, like Bruce’s in the desert of Nubia, were so severely bruised and excoriated, that he walked with extreme pain and difficulty; though, somewhat to assuage his sufferings, he had carefully wrapped them round with bandages steeped in oil. However, the cool bracing air of the mountains, united with a feeling of security, and the certainty of finding commodious lodgings and a good supper at night, prevented his spirits from sinking; and still further to invigorate his resolution, fancy ever and anon placed before his mind the rich smiling landscapes and sparkling streams of Kashmere.
After a tedious and harassing journey of ten days, they reached on the 26th the summit of a lofty mountain, from whence he enjoyed the first glimpse of Kashmere. He now travelled in the suite of a Mohammedan rhan, with whom he had fallen in on the road; and this gentleman being a native of the country, and held everywhere in the highest esteem, he enjoyed the rare privilege of passing the custom-house untaxed and unmolested. He therefore entered with an unsoured temper into the paradise of Hindostan, where the face of nature exhibited all those features whose tendency it is to call up in the mind images of cheerfulness and pleasure. “The road from Vere Nang,” says Forster, “leads througha country exhibiting that store of luxuriant imagery which is produced by a happy disposition of hill, dale, wood, and water; and that these rare excellences of nature might be displayed in their full glory, it was the season of spring, when the trees, the apple, the pear, the peach, the apricot, the cherry, and mulberry, bore a variegated load of blossom. The clusters also of the red and white rose, with an infinite class of flowering shrubs, presented a view so gayly decked, that no extraordinary warmth of imagination was required to fancy that I stood at least on a province of fairy land.”
It is in such regions as these, and not in our northern climates, that the month of May is a season of beauty. The plains, dotted with numerous villages, and intersected by small rivers, were already waving with a rich harvest; while every copse and woody knoll gave shelter to innumerable singing-birds, whose notes made the whole atmosphere appear alive with music. Having reached Pamper, our traveller embarked in a boat on the Jylum, and proceeded by water to the city of Serinagur, which, with its houses covered with parterres of beautiful flowers, possesses at a distance a splendid and imposing aspect, answering in some degree to the idea which the historians of the flourishing days of India have given of it. But on entering the streets the illusion is quickly dissipated. Slaves are invariably filthy in their habits, and the people of Kashmere are now the slaves of the Afghans.
One of the principal beauties of this magnificent valley is its lake, a sheet of water five or six miles in circumference, interspersed with numerous small islands, and surrounded in its whole extent by shores singularly picturesque and romantic. We have already given, in the life of Bernier, some account of Serinagur and its environs; but it may be interesting to add here the picture of the Shalimar, which our traveller drew upon the spot nearly one hundredand fifty years after, when the power of the Moguls had passed away, and their palaces become the haunts of tenants more destructive than the owls and serpents of Babylon. “In the centre of the plain,” says he, “as it approaches the lake, one of the Delhi emperors constructed a spacious garden called the Shalimar, which is abundantly stored with fruit-trees and flowering shrubs. Some of the rivulets which intersect the plain are led into a canal at the back of the garden, and, flowing through its centre, or occasionally thrown into a variety of water-works, compose the chief beauty of the Shalimar. To decorate this spot the Mogul princes of India have displayed equal magnificence and taste, especially Jehangheer, who, with the enchanting Moormahal, made Kashmere his usual residence during the summer months, and largely contributed to improve its natural advantages. On arches thrown over the canal are erected, at equal distances, four or five suites of apartments, each consisting of a saloon, with four rooms at the angles, where the followers of the court attend, and the servants prepare sherbets, coffee, and the hookah. The frame of the doors of the principal saloon is composed of pieces of stone of a black colour, streaked with yellow lines, and of a closer grain and higher polish than porphyry. They were taken, it is said, from a Hindoo temple by one of the Mogul princes, and are esteemed of great value. The canal of the Shalimar is constructed of masonry as far as the lower pavilion, from whence the stream is conveyed through a bed of earth, in the centre of an avenue of spreading trees, to the lake, which, with other streams of less note, it supplies and refreshes.”
The environs of the city are adorned with private gardens. Here, and throughout the whole valley, the oriental plane-tree is carefully cultivated, and arrives at greater perfection than in any other country. It commonly attains the size of an oak, and,with its straight taper stem, silver bark, and pale-green leaf resembling an expanded hand, is, when in full foliage, a splendid and beautiful tree, and affords a grateful and refreshing shade. But the chief glory of Kashmere is its rose, of all the vegetable world the most exquisite production, unrivalled for its brilliancy and delicacy of odour, and yielding an essential oil, or attar, in comparison with which all other perfumes are as dross. The season when the rose first opens into blossom is celebrated as a festival by the inhabitants of the valley, who, repairing in crowds to the surrounding gardens, give loose to their passions, and riot in every species of licentious rejoicing.
But the wealth and fame of Kashmere have been chiefly derived from the manufacture of shawls, unrivalled for their fineness and beauty. The wool, or rather down, from which they are fabricated is not the growth of the country, but brought from districts of the high table-land of Tibet, a month’s journey to the north-east, where alone the shawl-goat will properly thrive. Various attempts have been made by the emperors of Hindostan and the kings of Persia to introduce this species of goat into their dominions; but the wool has always been found to be of an inferior quality. The French have lately imitated the examples of the Mogul and Persian sovereigns, and they may no doubt succeed in procuring a coarse kind of wool from which very useful shawls may be manufactured; but it may without much rashness be predicted, that in the attempt to rival the shawls of Kashmere they will inevitably fail, since no part of France is sufficiently analogous to the lofty plains of Tibet to afford the shawl-goat an exactly similar position with respect to climate, water, and food. Of all imitations that of the Persians, from the wool of Kerman, is said to approach most nearly to the shawl of Kashmere.
The wool, when imported, is of a dark-gray colour,and is bleached in Kashmere by means of a certain preparation of rice-flour. The whitest down, which is said to be brought from Rodank, is reckoned the best, and sells in the valley from ten to twenty rupees the turruk, about twelve pounds. No exact estimate of the number of shawls manufactured in the year can be made. There are said to be about sixteen thousand looms, each occupying three men, employed; and supposing, with a contemporary author, that five shawls on an average are made annually to each loom, the total number would amount to eighty thousand. The shop of the weavers consists of a kind of framework, at which the workmen sit on a wooden bench. Two persons are employed on the plainest shawls, and the number is sometimes doubled. The shuttle made use of is long, narrow, and heavy. When the pattern of the shawl is variegated, the flowers of figures are worked with wooden needles, there being a separate one for every different-coloured thread; and in such cases the operation is exceedingly slow.
“Theoostand, or head-workman,” says Hamilton, “superintends, while his journeymen are employed near him, under his directions. If they have any new pattern in hand, or one with which they are not familiar, he describes to them the figure, colour, and threads that are to be used, while he keeps before him the pattern on which they happen to be employed drawn on paper. During the operation the rough side of the shawl is uppermost on the frame, notwithstanding which the head-workman never mistakes the regularity of the most finished patterns. A shop may be occupied with one shawl above a year, provided it be a remarkably fine one, while other shops make six or eight in the course of that time. Of the best and most noted sorts not so much as a quarter of an inch is completed in one day by three persons, which is the usual number employed. Shawls containing much work are made in separatepieces at different shops; and it may be observed, that it very rarely happens, when the pieces are completed, that they correspond in size.”
Forster was much disappointed in the women of Kashmere. They were handsome brunettes, but by no means endowed with that extreme beauty or elegance of form which has been attributed to them by other travellers. It is probable, however, that since the period of the Afghan invasion, which introduced into the country a rabble of adventurers from Kabul and the neighbouring regions, the race may have been deteriorated by a mixture with these ill-favoured foreigners; and that poverty, compelling them to have recourse to inferior food, and inducing habits of filth and a general squalidness, may have considerably aided in producing this result. In fertility they have by no means degenerated. Their families are numerous, whether poor or rich,—a circumstance which our traveller, who participated in Montesquieu’s opinion respecting the fecundity of all ichthyophagi, partly attributes to the great abundance of fish in their lakes and rivers.
During his stay in this country he was much alarmed at the suspicions of a Georgian, who, on observing the form of his head, which he averred was too flat at the top to be that of a Mohammedan, declared him at once to be a Christian. Forster, understanding that this man possessed an estate at Benares, in order to check his indiscretion or impertinence, disclosed to him his true story, informing him at the same time, however, that should any evil arise from his treachery or want of discretion, his estate would be confiscated, and the person of his commercial partner residing in the British territories exposed to punishment.
This circumstance, together with an increasing disgust at the character of the people, induced Forster to hasten as much as possible his departure from Kashmere. But this was a measure not easilyeffected. No person could leave the province without a passport from the governor, who, when this document was applied for, observed, that the Turks were good soldiers, and that as he just then happened to be in want of men, he would employ the traveller in his army. Forster now began to perceive that his Turkish character, which had hitherto procured him respect, was likely to advance him to a post of honour which he had very little ambition to occupy. One agent after another was employed to obtain the passport from the governor, a ferocious and sanguinary Afghan, who, like Charles IX. of France, shot men for his amusement; and at length, by dint of unremitted perseverance and a trifling bribe, the selfsame Georgian who had conjectured his religion from the form of his scull, with a sagacity which would have done honour to Dr. Gall himself, contrived to deliver him from the honour intended him by Azad Khan, and obtain the tyrant’s permission for his leaving the country.
Fearful lest the khan should alter his determination, and transform him, whether he would or not, into a trooper, he took into his service a Persian boy, hired a horse of a native of Peshawer, who was returning to that city, and on the 11th of June set out from Kashmere. His evil genius, in the form of vanity, had suggested to him the propriety of adorning his person with a gaudy red coat, in the pocket of which he deposited his passport. This showy garment, which no doubt excited the envy of many an Afghan beau, on the second day of his journey was snatched by a thief from his bed just as he was awaking, who, in spite of every obstacle, succeeded in bearing off his plunder. Not having passed the frontiers, he began to apprehend that a return to the capital might be necessary; but found, upon trial, that his Indian gold was considered every whit as good as Azad Khan’s written permission.
The scenery through which his road now lay wasof a magnificent description, mountainous, rocky, savage, gloomy; forests below, snowy pinnacles above, with here and there a torrent bursting and dashing through rocky chasms with the noise of thunder. The path, impassable to horses, which were sent by another route, wound round the projections of the mountains, and sometimes consisted of a floor of planks laid over beams which were driven into the cliff. The rivers were crossed in baskets slung upon ropes, or on sheep’s or dogs’ skins inflated, and placed under the breast, while the traveller impelled himself forward by the motion of his feet. In other places a sort of bridge was formed in the following manner:—A stout rope, fastened to wooden posts on either shore sustained a number of carved pieces of wood resembling oxen-yokes, with forks placed vertically. The sides of these yokes being embraced by smaller ropes afforded a hold to the passengers.
On the 10th of July they crossed the Indus, about twenty miles above the town of Attock. “The stream,” says Forster, “though not agitated by wind, was rapid, with a rough undulating motion, and about three-quarters of a mile or a mile in breadth where it was not interrupted by islands, and having, as nearly as I could judge, a west-and-by-south course. The water was much discoloured by a fine black sand, which, when put into a vessel, quickly subsided. It was so cold from, I apprehend, a large mixture of snow then thawed by the summer heats, that in drinking it my teeth suffered a violent pain. In our boat were embarked seventy persons, with much merchandise and some horses. This unwieldy lading, the high swell of the current, and the confusion of the frightened passengers made the passage dangerous and very tedious.”
Next day, having crossed the Attock or Kabul river, they arrived at Akora, where Forster entered a spacious cool mosque to escape the intense heatof the sun, spread his bed, and laid himself down quite at his ease. Here he remained until the time of evening prayer, when he was summoned by the moollah, or priest, to prepare himself for the ceremony. Persons who adopt a fictitious character commonly overact their part, and thus frequently render themselves liable to suspicion; but Forster’s error lay on the other side, which was perhaps the safer; for, although it drew upon him the charge of negligence, it by no means disposed his associates to regard him as an infidel, their own practice too generally corresponding with his own. In the present case, upon his excusing himself from performing the accustomed prayer on account of the debilitated state of his body, the moollah replied, with extreme contempt, that it was the more necessary to pray, in order to obtain better health. The honest Mohammedan, however, like the priests of Æsculapius in Aristophanes, used, it seems, to make the tour of the mosque at midnight, and compel his miserly brethren to perform an act of charity in their sleep, by disposing of a part of their substance for the benefit of the establishment. From our traveller the contribution attempted to be levied was his turban; but happening unluckily to be awake, he caught the holy marauder by the arm, and demanded who was there. The poor man, utterly disconcerted at this unseasonable wakefulness, replied, in a faltering voice, that he was the moollah of the mosque,—the same man, apparently, who had so rudely reprehended the stranger for his neglect of prayer.
On the morrow a body of Afghan cavalry encamped in the environs of Akora. This event spread no less terror and consternation through the country than if a hostile army had suddenly made an incursion into it; for the licentious soldiery, devouring and destroying like a swarm of locusts wherever they appeared, conducted themselves with insufferable insolence towards the inhabitants. It must be observed,however, in mitigation of the enormity of their transactions, that they are in a measure compelled to subsist themselves and their horses in this manner; for their ignorant and unreflecting sovereign, in need of their service, but unwilling to reward them, suffers them in peaceful times to be reduced to such distress, that they are frequently constrained to sell their horses, arms, and even apparel, to purchase a morsel of bread.
In three days from this they arrived at Peshawer, a large, populous, and opulent city, founded by the great Akbar. Of all the places visited by our traveller in Northern India, none appeared to suffer so intense a heat as this city; but by skirting round the northern limits of the Punjâb he avoided Lahore, where he would probably have found an atmosphere equally heated with that of Peshawer. Other cities, he observes, may be afflicted with a too-great warmth; hot winds blowing over tracts of sand may drive their inhabitants under the shelter of a wetted screen; but here the air, during the middle of summer, becomes almost inflammable. Yet, notwithstanding this burning atmosphere, the inhabitants enjoy exceedingly good health, and are but little liable to epidemical disorders. This fact may easily be accounted for. The air of Peshawer, like that of the deserts of Arabia, in which the finest Damascus blades may be exposed all night without contracting the slightest rust, is extremely dry; and it would appear that heat, however intense, is not, when free from humidity, at all subversive of health. Another circumstance greatly tended to increase the salubrity of this city; provisions were excellent and abundant, especially the mutton, the flesh of the large-tailed sheep, said to have been first discovered in South America.
There being no caravansary at Peshawer, Forster took up his residence in an old mosque, where he continued several days, melting in perpetual perspiration.While at Kashmere he had converted a part of his property into a bill of five hundred rupees on Kabul, which, in order to secure it from rain and other accidents, he enclosed in a canvass belt which he wore as a girdle. On examining the condition of this bill some days after his arrival in this city, he found that the writing had been so entirely obliterated by perspiration that no one could read, or even conjecture its subject, as from beginning to end it was literally black. The discovery much disquieted his mind, as he began to be apprehensive he might be reduced to want money on his journey. But his temperament was sanguine; and in order to afford melancholy as slender an opening as possible, he flew into society and laughed away his cares.
Still, the apprehension of a diminution in his finances rendered him anxious to proceed; and meeting with a man with whom he had travelled during the early part of his journey, it was agreed they should move on together, unite their means, and protect each other. On inquiring into the state of his companion’s finances, it appeared that he possessed in cash one rupee, on which himself, a boy, and a horse were to be subsisted until his arrival at Kabul, a journey of twelve or fourteen days. As it seemed clear that when this extraordinary fund should be expended the Mohammedan would apply to Forster, the latter, aware of the inconvenience and danger to which a disclosure of the real amount of his property might expose him, pretended to be but little richer, and producing three rupees, the whole was considered common stock; and his companion, with a face brightened by faith and zeal, exhorted him to be of good cheer, for that true believers were never deserted in the hour of need.
In company with this cheerful Islamite he departed from Peshawer, and, uniting themselves to a kafilah proceeding in the same direction, they pushed forward towards the west. During the second day’s marchhe discovered that rashness is not always a mark of valour; for, advancing before the kafilah with about thirty horsemen, who all appeared by their whiskers to be men of desperate courage, they were met and plundered by a small body of Afghans, who seemed no way disturbed when the larger body of the kafilah appeared in sight, but slowly retreated with their booty.
During this part of the journey it was for many reasons judged expedient by the leaders of the kafilah to travel by night. But if they by this means diminished the danger of falling a prey to the plundering Afghans, they found in return that they had other perils to encounter; for, boisterous weather having come on, and the rain descending in torrents, every hollow of the mountains became the bed of a torrent, which, rushing down impetuously through its steep channel, rolled along stones of a vast size with a noise which, in the stillness of night, resembled thunder. The sky, meanwhile, was overcast with black clouds; and the roaring of the torrents heard on all sides created in the mind of the traveller a certain horror mingled with awe, and disposed him involuntarily to consider this grand scene of nature with sentiments of profound reverence.
On approaching one of these mountain streams, which had been greatly swelled by the recent rains, the commander of the kafilah escort, who was accompanied by one of his favourite women, placed her on a powerful horse, and, that she might not be incommoded by the crowd, attempted to convey her over first; but she had no sooner entered the water than she was carried off among the black whirling eddies of the current, and drowned. The Mohammedan, thus suddenly deprived of his mistress, at once forgot all thoughts of resignation to the decrees of fate, and, throwing himself upon the ground in the bitterness of his affliction, lamented his loss like a giaour. This melancholy event occasioned theimmediate halt of the whole kafilah, the tragical fate of the lady having impressed their minds with a salutary terror. Next morning, on searching along the margin of the torrent, the body was found covered with mud, and was interred upon the spot with such ceremonies as time and place permitted. The kafilah then crossed the stream, and continued its march.
The road now lay through a black and desolate track, scooped into hollows by torrents, or yawning with natural chasms. It next entered a wide plain well watered and interspersed with walled villages, in the midst of which stands Kabul, the capital of the Afghan empire, where they arrived safely on the evening of the 2d of August. Here Forster took up his abode with a Georgian named Bagdasir, to whom he had brought a letter of introduction from his countryman in Kashmere. To this man, as to the person most likely to render him aid in such an affair, he showed his bill for five hundred rupees; but when it was found that not one single letter in it was legible, the man shook his head, as well he might, and predicted that no one would be found to discount it. However, after application had in vain been made in every other quarter, Bagdasir himself purchased the bill for half its real amount, which, its extraordinary condition being considered, was fully as much as it was worth.
Not many days after his arrival at Kabul our traveller was seized by a malignant fever, which for several days menaced him with a much longer journey than the one he had undertaken. Hot and cold fits succeeded each other with singular violence; he was tormented by insatiable thirst, and, as he endeavoured to quench this by the constant drinking of cold water, a most profuse perspiration was maintained, which probably saved his life. His whole body was covered with spots of a very bright colour, shaded between purple and crimson, which he shouldhave beheld, he says, with pleasure, supposing that such an eruption would diminish the force of the disease, but that some of his neighbours regarded them as signs of the plague. This created a general alarm, and they were about to exclude him from their quarter, when he confidently asserted that the fever of the plague always produced its crisis in three days, whereas his had now continued seven; which, together with the conduct of Bagdasir, who never deserted him, somewhat assuaged their terrors, and induced them to suffer his presence. His disorder continued three weeks, and at length, when it disappeared, left him so weak that he could with difficulty crawl about the streets.
The religious toleration which prevailed at Kabul, where Turk, Jew, and Christian lived equally unmolested, induced him in an evil hour to throw off his Mohammedan disguise and profess himself a Christian; not considering, that however tolerant the Afghans of this capital might be, the remainder of his road, until he should reach the Caspian, lay among bigots of the most desperate stamp, who regarded the professors of all heterodox religions with abhorrence, and reckoned it a merit to revile and persecute them.
Having remained a full month at Kabul, he hired one side of a camel, on which a pannier was suspended for his accommodation, and on the 1st of September joined a party proceeding to Kandahar. The mode of travelling which he had now adopted is peculiar to that part of the world, and deserves to be particularly described. The camel appropriated to the service of passengers, he observes, carries two persons, who are lodged in a kind of pannier laid loosely on the back of the animal. The pannier, in Persiankidjahwah, is a wooden frame, with the sides and bottom of netted cords, of about three feet long and two broad. The depth likewise is generally about two feet. The provisions of the passengersare conveyed in the kidjahwah, and, the journey being commonly performed in the night, this swinging nest becomes his only place of rest; for on the kafilah’s arrival at its station he must immediately exert himself in procuring provisions, water, and fuel, as well as in keeping an eye over his property.
Forster soon found reason to regret his ill-timed abjuration of the prophet. The camel upon which he was stowed like a bale of merchandise was the worst conditioned of the whole drove; and to comfort him during his ride, a shrill-tongued old woman and a crying child took up their quarters in the opposite pannier, and contrived, the one by shrieking, the other by scolding, effectually to chase away his dreams. An old Afghan lady, with a very handsome daughter and two grandchildren, occupied the panniers of another camel. The rest were loaded with merchandise. This old dame soon began a contest with Dowran, the conductor of the kafilah, respecting the mode in which the movements of the caravan should be regulated; and after some desperate skirmishes, in which the force of her lungs and the piercing shrillness of her voice stood her in good stead, victory declared on her side, and the party fell under petticoat government.
Being now a declared infidel, and regarded by every person as an unclean beast, whom it would be pollution to touch, and worse than adultery to oblige by any kind offices, our traveller enjoyed many of the preliminaries of martyrdom, was hourly abused, laughed at, mocked, and derided; and still further to enhance the contempt which every person already entertained for him, Dowran maliciously insinuated that he was not even a Christian, but a Jew. When the party arrived at their halting-place no one could be tempted to assist him, not even for money; imagining, I presume, that the gold which had lurked beneath his “Jewish gaberdine,” like that derived by Vespasian from a tax on urinaries, which his sonTitus jocosely smelled in order to discover its scent, must be accompanied by an unsavoury odour, which might cleave to a true believer, and exclude him after death from the arms of the houries. He was therefore daily compelled to go himself in search of water and dried camels’ dung to boil his tea-kettle, and, what was much worse, to endure the smoke which it emitted when first lighted, which entered his eyes, and made him think that some Mohammedan devil had transformed himself into smoke for the purpose of tormenting him.
In the midst of thisgehannum, which gave him the more pain from its being of his own creating, he received some consolation from the protection of the Afghan lady, whose good-will he had won by fondling the children and giving them sugar. Thus fortified, he began by degrees to laugh at Dowran’s beard; and if he did not return him the compliment of being of the race of Abraham, it was more from want of reflection than from apprehension of danger.
On the 26th of September they arrived at Ghizni, the residence of the munificent and magnanimous Mahmood, the patron of Firdoosi, and one of the splendid princes whose actions adorn the annals of the East. But “the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples” of Ghizni had long been trodden under foot by time; and, save some scattered masses of misshapen ruins, not a trace was to be seen of its former grandeur. The tomb of Mahmood, however, still remains in the neighbourhood of the city; and to this resting-place of genius numerous pilgrims resort from distant lands to say their prayers. The surrounding country is interspersed with low hills, and, excepting in some few cultivated spots, produces little else than a prickly aromatic weed, which, with balls of unsifted barley-paste, constitutes the common food of the camel.
The kafilah arrived on the 5th of October at Kandahar,a flourishing and populous city, where he remained three days, and then departed for Herat. His camel companion now was a noisy, disputatious theologian, who not only regaled him on the road with menaces and arguments, but deterred a poor half-starved Arab tailor, whose services Forster had engaged, from eating the bread of an infidel, though he saw clearly the poor man had no other to eat.
In this agreeable position he continued until the 2d of November, when they arrived at Herat, where he determined once more to invest himself, if possible, with the cloak of Mohammedanism. At the caravansary, where he had been deposited by the kafilah, with an ample tradition of his faith and practice, so desirable a disguise was impracticable; but he no sooner quitted the purlieus of his lodgings than he became a grave hypocritical Mussulman, and partook of the enjoyment of all his privileges. Nor did he entertain any great fear of detection, it being easy, in so motley a population as that of Herat, to maintain successfully the most extraordinary disguise. He daily frequented the eating-houses, where all the talk of the day was circulated, and chiefly fabricated, in conjunction with the barbers’ shops, which in Herat have a neat appearance. In the centre of it stands a small stone pillar, on the top of which is placed a cup of water in readiness for operation, while the sides of the shop are decorated with looking-glasses, razors, and beard-combs. In one great source of amusement Herat was at this time deficient,—there were no dancing girls. However, notwithstanding this remarkable desideratum, our traveller, who was an accommodating person, and contentedly put up with the blessings within his reach, contrived to pass his time agreeably enough when absent from the caravansary.
Learning at length that a kafilah was about to proceed to Tursheez, a town of Khorasan, lying in the direction of Mazenderan, he entered into an agreementwith the director for a conveyance, but with a confidential stipulation that he was to be received in a Mohammedan character, as an Arab. The kafilah departed from Herat on the 22d of November; and as it had been agreed that he was to form one of the family of the leader, he joined the party at the appointed place, and took his station on a camel, with a bag of rice on the opposite pannier. The advantages of his new character were soon visible. Having represented himself as a pilgrim going to the shrine of Meshed, he was treated with the greatest possible consideration by every passenger in the kafilah, all of whom courted his society, as if holiness, like the plague, were infectious. Our hajjî now rejoiced and stroked his beard, to the ample dimensions of which he owed a large portion of the veneration which was shown him; and as he moved along, caressed and admired by all who beheld him, he must have felt no small gratitude towards Mohammed for the sanctity which his religion had thrown round the person of a pilgrim. This extraordinary degree of respect exciting the kafilah conductor, who considered that at this rate he might possibly dwindle into nobody, even in the eyes of his own camels and mules, he whispered about that Forster in reality was no hajjî, nay, not so much as a member of the church at all. His information, however, was received with utter incredulity, and attributed to his envious disposition; so that no evil arose to the Meshed pilgrim.
It was now December, and the north wind, sweeping with irresistible violence over the plains of Khorasan from the frozen mountains of Tartary, brought along with it a deluge of snow, which in a few hours clothed the whole country in white. On arriving at the village of Ashkara, the snow fell in such great quantities that the roads were blocked up, while the winds, hurling it along in tremendous drifts, seemed to threaten the village itself with destruction. Thewhole party was admitted, after many earnest entreaties, into a small dark room in the fort, where they were furnished with an abundance of fuel; but when they began to make inquiries respecting provisions, they found with dismay that not a single article of food was on any terms to be procured. Yet, says the traveller, such cordial pleasures are inherent in society, that though pent up in a dark hovel, which afforded but a flimsy shelter against the mounds of snow furiously hurled against it, our good-humour with each other and an ample supply of firing produced cheerfulness and content. A Persian of more than ordinary education, and who possessed a taste for poetry, amused them with reading Jami’s story of Yousuf and Zuleikha, which, for its scenes of wondrously pathetic adventure, and the luxuriant genius of the poet, is admirably calculated to soften the rigour of a winter’s day.
At this village they remained four days, during which, though the fact is not stated, they must have found something more substantial to subsist on than Jami’s poetry; when, the storm having abated, they pushed forward in the direction of Tursheez. On arriving at this town, he found that every apartment in the caravansary was already occupied; but a small piece of money bestowed upon the gatekeeper introduced him to a small chamber, in which, by submitting to receive a partner in housekeeping, he might reside comfortably enough during his stay. Our traveller, on his part, regarded the companion with still greater satisfaction than the chamber, and it soon appeared that the feeling was mutual; for the stranger, accosting him with evident tokens of joy, observed, that the solitary life he had hitherto passed at Tursheez was exceedingly tiresome, and that he now anticipated a cordial relief by his company. It was immediately agreed that a joint board should be kept; that the stranger, being yet weak from a recent sickness, should conduct the culinary operations,while Forster was to furnish water; a laborious task, there being none that was good at a nearer distance than a mile. This man, a gloomy, mysterious person, soon departed for Herat; and the traveller, together with a new companion, contrived likewise to find a better apartment. This second associate was a moollah, whose profession it was to vend certain spells, which were powerfully efficacious in conferring every species of worldly happiness, and in excluding all evils. But