PLAN OF THE TEMPLE OF JUGGERNAUT.
They found the temple enclosed in an area of about ten acres in extent, and learned from their guide that each side of the enclosure measured 650 feet, and the lofty wall before them extended all the way around. On the eastern side, where they entered, there was a broad staircase of stone steps leading up to a platform twenty feet in height; this platform was about 450 feet square, and enclosed by a wall somewhat lower than the outer one, and it appeared to be pretty well filled with small temples, and pagodas that had been built with comparatively little regard to order or regularity.
The great pagoda rises from the centre of this platform or terrace; it has a base about thirty feet square, and its top is 200 feet above the foundation. It tapers gradually, and is rounded at the summit; the sides are cut full of niches for holding small statues, and at a distance the effect is quite pretty. Close by the entrance is a stone pillar nearly fifty feet high, hewn from a single block, and said to be a remarkable piece of work.
The enclosure and the temples were full of pilgrims who had come to make their offerings; some of them scowled at the strangers, but offered no violence, though a few crowded around and made remarks in a menacing tone till they were silenced by the guide. The interior of the temple is divided into four rooms or halls that open into each other: one is the hall of offerings, where gifts are made by the pilgrims, to be afterward appropriated by the priests; the second is the hall of the musicians and bayaderes; the third is the hall of audience, where the pilgrims gaze on the god, and the fourth and last is in the centre of the building, and occupied by the god Juggernaut, or Jaganath, with his brother on one side and his sister on the other.
JAGANATH AND HIS BROTHER AND SISTER.
Contrary to their expectation, our friends found that the statue of thegod was only a log rudely fashioned into the shape of a human body without arms, while the figures on each side of him had rude representations of hands uplifted. The priests explain this deficiency by saying that Jaganath, or "the lord of the world," has no need of hands, as he can perform everything without their aid. Sometimes on festival occasions they fasten golden hands to his shoulders, and adorn him with jewels: his eyes are supposed to be of fine diamonds of enormous value; but according to tradition one of them was stolen by a sailor, who managed to conceal himself in the temple one night, and since then the diamonds have been removed and bits of glass put in their place.
The guide told them that the service of the temple consisted of a daily offering of fruit and flowers, together with articles of food, such as rice, butter, milk, salt, vegetables, cocoa-nuts, and the like. Four times a day the temple is closed for the god to take his meals, and it is hardly necessary to say that the food which has been collected is eaten by the priests and other attendants of the place. It has been estimated that the value of the offerings averages nearly twenty-five dollars daily, and all of it goes to the support of the priests. In addition to these offerings of food there are donations of money and jewels from wealthy pilgrims, which are estimated by Mr. Hunter to amount to more than $300,000 a year.
The pilgrims come from all parts of India to worship at this shrine: many of them are women, and they are collected by missionaries who are sent out from Pooree to the number of about six thousand every year. They go all over the country, and each has his field of labor assigned to him. He shows to the people the great advantages of a journey to the sacred shrine, and as soon as he has collected a band of pilgrims he starts with them for the holy spot. Most of the pilgrims are poor, and they go on foot and beg their subsistence as they proceed. Now and then a wealthy merchant concludes to make the pilgrimage, and he does it with carts and wagons and a whole train of servants, and it sometimes happens that a prince comes with dozens of elephants, and everything in grand style.
A HINDOO DEVOTEE.
It is estimated that ninety-five per cent. of the pilgrims are poor, and perform the journey on foot; and some of the pious devotees prostrate themselves at every third, fifth, or tenth step. Many of them die on the road, and after their arrival at Pooree the mortality is frightful. This is partly owing to the fact that a hundred thousand people are often crowded into a city that has a resident population of less than a third that number, and no effort is made to keep it clean. The great festival occurs in the rainy season, so that the attendance is largest at the very timewhen it should be least. The drainage is the worst that could be imagined, and the stench that arises is horrible in the extreme. Sometimes there are hundreds of deaths in a day, but the vacancies created by the losses are quickly made up by fresh arrivals.
Another cause of serious illness and frequent death is a religious observance connected with the worship of the idol. It is the custom to carry cooked rice into the presence of the god, and it immediately becomes so sanctified by his presence that it destroys all distinctions of caste. All classes can eat it together, and the richest may sit down by the side of the most humble in the presence of this holy food. Not a grain of it must be thrown away, and thus it happens that it is often kept for several days before it is eaten. When fresh it does no harm, but after a day or two it putrefies, and is a sure producer of disease.
There is hardly a year when cholera does not appear among the pilgrims to Juggernaut, in consequence of the bad food they eat. The true Asiatic cholera had its origin here, and it is noticeable that every recurrence of the epidemic has had its beginning in the festivals connected with some of the Hindoo forms of worship.
The great epidemic of cholera (in 1817) began at Juggernaut, and was carried across India and thence up the Persian Gulf to Bussorah, where 18,000 persons died in eighteen days; it then moved on through the valleys of the Euphrates and Tigris Rivers to the shores of the Mediterranean, where it stopped. In 1826 there was another epidemic, arising in the same locality; it was the first to reach Europe and America, and arrived in the latter country in the spring of 1832, in a ship that brought some Irish emigrants to Quebec. It ascended the St. Lawrence River and the Great Lakes, and entered the United States at Detroit, whence it spread over the country and caused many thousands of deaths.
THE CAR OF JUGGERNAUT.
When our friends entered the temple the boys asked for the famous car on which the idol takes his annual ride. The guide led the way to a small shrine in the enclosure surrounding the temple where the wonderful carriage was standing. It was a great structure, about forty feet high and nearly as many square on each of its four sides; its wheels were eight or ten feet in diameter, and were hewn from single blocks of wood like the trucks on a country baby-cart. The shrine where the god is placed during his annual ride was decorated with some hideous carving, and just above the wheels there were representations of horses in the act of running.
A little distance away were two smaller cars, and the guide explained that each of the idols has a carriage of his own, that of Juggernaut being the largest and most important. A short time was devoted to the inspection of these vehicles, and then the party left the temple and returned to the shore, as it was near the hour for the steamer to leave; besides, it was considered judicious to get away from the pestilential atmosphere of the temple, as none of the strangers cared to invite the development of a case of cholera on his own account.
On the way back to the ship the guide told the boys about the great car festival that takes place in July of each year.
For weeks before the time fixed for the event the pilgrims arrive at the rate of thousands daily, and the city is crowded to its utmost capacity; there are rarely less than 100,000 people there on the occasion of the great festival, and sometimes they are ten or twelve thousand above that figure. When the day comes for the ceremony, all the space in and around the temple is densely crowded, and the priests find it difficult to move about in the performance of their duties. The idols are taken from their pedestals and placed in their cars, and as this is done a signal is made, and the whole multitude falls to the ground. In a few moments they rise and seize the great ropes to drag the cars forward, amidthe beating of hundreds of drums and the clashing of many gongs and cymbals.
The huge car of Juggernaut moves onward amid the shouts of the vast assemblage, the sound of music in frightful discordance, and the songs of the priests who stand on the front of the car or clinging to its sides. The progress is slow, and sometimes the journey of little more than a mile requires two or three days for its accomplishment. The end of the journey is the summer-house of the god, and when the car has been brought there it is abandoned by the pilgrims, whose pious duty has been finished. It is taken back to the temple by the inhabitants of Pooree and the surrounding country, and the idols are restored to their pedestals.
A TROPICAL MORNING AT SEA.
By the time the story was ended the boat was at the side of the steamer, and our friends were speedily on board. In a little while the captain had completed his business at Pooree, and the vessel steamed away in the direction of Calcutta. Pooree was the last port visited on the voyage from Colombo to Calcutta.
When the boys went on deck in the morning the captain said they were in sight of land; Frank and Fred looked around, but could see nothing save the waters extending in every direction, with a few sails in sight here and there. The captain observed their perplexity, and smiled as he said,
"We are in sight of the Sand Heads; you have heard of the Sand Heads at the month of the Hoogly River, have you not?"
"Certainly," Frank answered; "but I cannot see them."
"Well," continued the captain, "they are under water where you see that brig anchored a couple of miles ahead of us. We consider that land is in sight when we see the pilot-brig, though we cannot see any land at all. The Sand Heads are banks of sand beneath the water, and the brig marks their locality. At the brig the steamer goes into the charge of the pilot, and my authority over her course ceases."
As they neared the brig a small boat came off; the ladder was lowered from the side of the steamer, and the pilot climbed to the deck, followed by his servant and baggage; then the small boat dropped astern, and the steamer continued on her way. Soon a buoy was in sight, and then another and another, in a winding line, and the boys learned that the channel through the treacherous sands was thus indicated long before land could be seen.
"You see what an excellent means of defence we have in case of war," said the captain of the steamer. "We have only to take up thebuoys, and no hostile fleet could find its way inside, even if it had the aid of all the pilots in the service. No one can follow the channel without these buoys, no matter how often he may have been over the route. The maintenance of the harbor of Calcutta and its approaches is a matter of great expense, and has been a puzzle to the best engineers. Even after we enter the river we have many difficulties to encounter, and the pilot needs a pair of sharp eyes, and must keep them well open."
BAYOU IN SAUGUR ISLAND.
By-and-by a dark line appeared on the horizon, which the captain pronounced the island of Saugur; and then little tufts and patches of green were seen here and there close to the shore, or out on the sand-bars that just rose to the surface. The morning was bright, with the exception of a few light clouds that were tipped with crimson from the rays of the tropical sun, and the sea was undisturbed save by a light ripple which was not enough to give the least rocking to the steamer. The dark line developed into a low forest, and after a time another forest was revealed on the other side of the ship, but there were no high headlands, and nothing to indicate that there were any mountains within hundreds of miles.
Saugur is a densely-wooded island many miles in extent, rising only a few feet out of the water, and seamed and traversed by numerous bayous and creeks. Here come the wood-cutters who supply Calcutta with fuel, and occasionally—much against their will—furnish a good meal for the tigers for which Saugur is famous. The jungle is dense, and the tigers find in it a secure cover; they lurk in the vicinity of the paths, and spring on their victims without the least warning. Formerly they were numerous, but their ranks have been thinned by enterprising and intrepid hunters, and by the tidal wave that swept over Saugur a few years ago, and laid the whole island under water for several hours. All the low land at the mouth of the Hoogly was inundated, and the wave reached to Calcutta, where it caused enormous damage to the shipping. Thousands of lives were lost, and the terrible visitation fills a melancholy chapter in the history of the City of Palaces. On the island of Saugur nearly all the persons who were there at the time, engaged in wood-cutting or for other purposes, were drowned; only those escaped who were near their boats or were able to get into the tops of trees.
Two natives who were among the saved said that they climbed into a tree out of reach of the water, and were followed by a tiger. The animal did not molest them, and for several hours they were within a few feet of him, and were not even saluted with a growl. The beast was so terrified at the sight of the waters, and his own danger, that he forgot all his natural antipathy to man, but, on the contrary, seemed to court their presence. Since the inundation it is observed that there are but few tigers on Saugur Island, and the inference is that many of them were killed by drowning.
The steamer followed the tortuous channel among the sand-banks, and finally came to the entrance of the Hoogly, one of the mouths of the Ganges. The Ganges, like the other great rivers of the globe, has brought down vast quantities of earth and deposited it at its mouth, and the amount is so great as to divide the river into several channels. Doctor Bronson explained to the boys this peculiarity of great rivers, and told them that the earth which thus accumulates is called a delta.
"I understand," said Fred; "I read about that at school. Every great river has its delta, and some of them are very large. The delta of the Mississippi is more than 300 miles long, and is extending every year. In every ten gallons of water brought down by the river there is one gallon of solid matter, which is deposited in the Gulf of Mexico and must fill it up in time."
"Yes," echoed Frank; "and I've read about it, too. If you look onthe map of any country where there is a large river, you will see that, it is pushed way out into the sea, and is generally divided into several mouths. This is the case with the Mississippi, the Nile, the Ganges, the Indus, the Mekong, and lots of others. The Amazon has a broad delta, as its mouth is 180 miles wide, and contains an immense island that was formed by the earth brought down from the interior ages and ages ago. What is that?"
He pointed directly ahead of the steamer to a spot on the bank where a flag appeared to be waving from a mast.
DIAMOND HARBOR.
"I presume it is Diamond Harbor," the Doctor responded, "as it is about time for us to reach it."
The speck grew larger and larger, and finally resolved itself into a building like a fortress on a diminutive scale. A few palm-trees waved around it, and, with their glasses, our friends could see that there was an earthwork surrounding the building to protect it from possible assault. From a mast that resembled the cross-trees of a ship two or three flags were waving, and it did not take the boys long to realize that they were nearing a telegraph-station.
"You are quite right," said the Doctor, "that is Diamond Harbor, the station whence ships are announced, and before we have passed it the name of our steamer will be flashed to Calcutta. See, they are sending up our flag now."
The boys turned and saw that the steamer's flag had been sent to the top of the mast, and was waving in the gentle breeze. They felt that they were once more at the end of a sea-voyage, and Fred remarked that the next thing to arriving at Calcutta was to know that the coming of the ship had been announced there.
SCENE ON THE HOOGLY.
They passed the station without stopping, and steamed onward up the Hoogly. Everywhere the banks were the same, and the scenery soon grew monotonous. Forests and groups of palm-trees, and wide spaces devoted to the cultivation of rice or other tropical product, succeeded one another as bend after bend of the river was followed; cattle grazing on the banks were seen at frequent intervals, and occasionally the low walls of a village presented themselves. At last a white object was seen in the distance, and the captain announced that they were practically in sight of Calcutta.
RIVER SCENE BELOW CALCUTTA.
Several miles below Calcutta the river widens into Garden Reach, an expanse of water that is comparatively straight, and where both banks of the stream are so richly clad in tropical verdure as to suggest the name of garden to the early-comers. The first buildings of importance are the structures composing the palace of the King of Oude; they are on the east bank of the river, and the buildings and the walls that surround them are of a dazzling whiteness, which the captain of thesteamer said was not at all indicative of the purity within the palace. One of the boys asked who the King of Oude was, and why he lived there; Doctor Bronson undertook an explanation, which was supplemented by a few words from the captain.
"At the time of the Mutiny, in 1857," said the Doctor, "the King of Oude—one of the richest provinces of India—joined the revolt and took part in the war. Lucknow was his capital and residence, and after the war he was deposed from his throne and ordered to live in Calcutta, where he could be immediately under the eye of the governor-general. He has no power whatever at present, but the Government gives him an allowance of $600,000 a year, and allows him to spend it as he pleases inside the white walls that you are looking at. He rarely goes outside, and then only for a drive along the roads that are least frequented by the English. He has an undying hatred for the English, and will not admit them to his palace: once in a while he invites an American or other foreigner to pay him a visit, but these occasions are not numerous. He is not allowed to return to Lucknow under any pretence whatever, and he cannot go more than a mile from his palace without permission of the governor."
"And I don't think," said the captain, "that, apart from the curiosity of seeing an Eastern king, you would care to visit him. He is a brutal-looking fellow, speaks no English, and is apt to be rude even to the visitors he invites to his palace. His habits of life are not of the best character, and some strange stories are told about him: he is very much married, as he can count his wives by the dozen, and he spends much of his time among his wild beasts, of which he has a very fine assortment. He is particularly fond of snakes, and his collection of those reptiles is said to be the finest in all India, and to contain the largest serpents. It has been rumored that when his wives did not please him he caused them to be fed to the snakes and wild beasts, but the story is not likely to be true. Although his palace is his own, and he can live about as he chooses, it is probable that the Government would interfere and put a stop to any amusement of this sort."
BUMBOAT ON THE HOOGLY.
As the steamer neared the city, boats on the river became more and more numerous, and, some of them dropped along-side and made fast. They were small craft of the kind known to sailors as "bumboats," and the most of them had fruits of various kinds to sell. Bananas, mangoes, and other tropical products were offered, but as the steamer had made daily landings all the way from Point de Galle to Calcutta, and had enjoyed frequent opportunities for laying in a stock of food, the boatmenfound a poor market. The case is different when a ship comes in from New York or Liverpool, having been a hundred days or more at sea; everybody is longing for a taste of fruit, and the boatman that can first make fast to her is sure to sell his cargo at a handsome profit.
The forest of shipping, the roofs and domes of the city, and the great bridge over the Hoogly, indicated the end of the voyage. The steamer anchored in the stream, and our friends prepared to descend the ladder to the swarm of boats that gathered around. "How much?" said the Doctor to the first native that presented himself: the fellow indicated by counting four of his fingers and pronouncing the word "rupee;" and the Doctor understood that for four rupees, or two dollars, they could have the boat to take them ashore. A second boatman offered to take them for three rupees; the first man descended to two, and then the other offered to take them for one. The result was they closed with him, and in a little while were at the landing, leaving their baggage to be sent for from the hotel.
LANDING-PLACE AT CALCUTTA.
There was a horde of palanquins and garries at the landing, andany number of porters and guides, who proffered their assistance. Doctor Bronson and the boys entered a garry, and were driven along the level streets to the Great Eastern Hotel, an establishment that proved to be as imposing in extent as it was wretched in other respects. The manager of the hotel assigned the strangers to rooms, and then told them to select their servants. As he did so, he pointed to a row of servants that had filed in from a yard just outside the hall, and stood there a little way from the office. Frank and Fred inquired what it all meant, and the manager thus explained,
"It is the custom here for each person staying in the house to have a servant to himself. You pay him half a rupee a day, and as much more as you choose, if you are satisfied with what he has done for you."
STREET SCENE IN CALCUTTA.
The boys laughed at the oddity of the situation, and then followed the Doctor's example, and each chose a man. An order was then written for the baggage, and the servants went to the steamer to get it; while they were absent the boys took a short stroll along the street, having first inquired the way to the post-office, so that they could get the letters that were expected. At the same time the Doctor engaged a garry, and went to the consulate on a similar errand; the three returned to the hotel at pretty nearly the same time, and their united parcels of letters were a welcome sight.
The whole party was busy with its messages from home till near the hour for dinner. Everybody was well, and everybody had read with great satisfaction what the boys had written about their journey in the Far East. Each mail from Asia was eagerly watched for; and if a steamer happened to arrive without any letter from Frank or Fred there was great disappointment. Mary and Miss Effie declared they had never known a tenth part as much about the countries on the underside of the world as they had learned from the letters of the boys, and MissEffie intimated to Frank that the knowledge she had acquired had been a partial consolation for his absence; and she naïvely added that her mind was about as full as it could hold of what is to be seen in strange countries, and the sooner he came home the more gratified should she be. Mary had something to say about cashmere shawls, paintings on ivory, sandal-wood carvings, and other things that come from India; and she hinted that she should not be displeased if he sent or brought some of those curiosities to America. She closed her letter with the announcement that Miss Effie was looking over her shoulder and reading every word, and in all probability approving it.
After this there could be no doubt that Frank would be on the search for Indian manufactures in order to afford delight to his sister and sweetheart. He would have a double pleasure in doing so, as he would add to his own stock of knowledge while carrying out the wishes of the bright-eyed girls.
They retired to their rooms to dress for dinner, as their baggage had arrived from the steamer and was ready for them. When they went to the dining-room the servants of the Doctor and Fred were there, but the attendant of Frank was missing, and the others did not know what had become of him. Consequently, Frank was waited upon by one of the other servants, much to his dissatisfaction: he said he had never waited on more than one person at a time, and it was the custom in India for each servant to take care of no one but his master.
After dinner Frank hunted up his attendant, and demanded an explanation of his absence from the dinner-table. With some difficulty Frank drew from him the information that he belonged to a caste that did not wait at table, but only performed work about the rooms. The case was reported to the manager of the hotel, who suggested the employment of two servants, one for the room and one for the table, and the division between them of the half-rupee per day. After some discussion the proposal was accepted, and Master Frank had two servants all to himself. He thought he would have too much attention, but discovered in practice that he was about as badly served as he had been at any time during the journey; he made a careful mathematical calculation, and determined that with half a dozen servants like those about him he would have been obliged to wait upon himself altogether.
"You see," said the Doctor, "how this superabundance of servants in India works; we were talking about it a few days ago, and I suggested you had better wait till we got farther into India before discussing the question. Each person in the dining-room has a servant to himself, andtheoretically they ought to care for us very promptly; the fact is they are constantly in each other's way, and nearly everything is cold before it reaches us. The service in the dining-room of the Great Eastern Hotel is abominable, and a large part of its poor character is due to the great number of servants; a hotel in Now York, where there is one servant to six or eight patrons, would do far better than this.
A NATIVE NURSE.
"If you lived in a house," he continued, "you would find it worse, at least until you became accustomed to it, and secured an efficient man to manage the servants. The man who brings the water for your bath will not empty the bath-tub when you have done with it; he can handle clean water, but the touch of a European pollutes it, and only a person of a lower caste can remove it. If a lady sees something lying on the floor, and tells the nurse in charge of her child to pick it up, the nurse goes to the woman who has control of the servants and tells her something is to be picked up; the head-servant sends the one whose particular duty it is to sweep the floor, and the work is performed. So it goes through everything; each one has his or her particular duty, and will be discharged rather than do the least thing that pertains to another.
"Twenty years ago, when a man went out to dinner in India, it was necessary for him to take along his servant to wait upon him, and most persons do so at the present time. The man who neglected this rule was unable to get a morsel to eat, as no servant, not even that of host or hostess, would condescend to bring him anything, even though ordered by his own employer. This custom has been broken down to the extent that you can now go to a private house to dine without taking a servant along, although it is generally expected you will do so."
"I remember a picture in an American comic paper," said Fred, "that showed how the same feeling prevails among servants in our own country. A man who looked like a laborer was sitting before an open fireplace where a fire was blazing, and a small child had crept into theflames; a woman was rushing into the room to seize the child, and under the picture was this dialogue:
"'You lazy fellow!' screamed the woman, 'why didn't you pull my baby out of the fire?'
"'Well, mum,' replied the man, 'I didn't hire out to do housework.'"
"Not a bad commentary on the conduct of some of our foreign servants in America," the Doctor remarked, "and the characteristic is not altogether confined to naturalized Americans. Some of our native-born citizens are very fearful of doing something that belongs to others, and very often, for fear of making a mistake, they do nothing whatever."
The evening was passed among letters and papers, and it was pretty well into the night before all three of our friends were asleep. They were out in good season in the morning, and went for a stroll through the streets and a ride on the Esplanade of Calcutta. According to the custom of the country they had achota hazree, or light breakfast, before starting, and returned about eleven o'clock for theburra hazree, or substantial meal of the first half of the day. The chota hazree consisted of a cup of tea or coffee and a bit of toast with an egg or two; the burra hazree was a more serious affair, and kept the party at table for a full hour before it was finished.
There was more sight-seeing in the afternoon; in the evening the boys set at work on their letters describing their first day in Calcutta, on the plan they had followed in visiting other cities of the Far East. They had plenty to occupy themselves with, and after writing till their eyes were heavy, they laid aside their labor for the most convenient hours of the next and the following days. Here is their letter, leaving out the personal messages for friends, and other matters that could have no interest for the general reader:
"We have been greatly impressed with the way that Calcutta differs from the other cities we have seen; we thought it might be like Canton, or Yokohama, or Batavia, but it isn't like any of them. The people are different, and they have different manners, customs, religions, and ways of life generally, so that it is not easy to make comparisons; and then they differ a good deal among themselves, and you will see perhaps a dozen kinds of dress in a walk of an hour or so.
"Calcutta stands on a level plain, and the surveyors who laid it out acted liberally by giving it wide streets, and plenty of ground for everything that was needed. The part where the Europeans live is full of fine buildings, both public and private, and wherever you go you see evidences that there was plenty of money at command when it was built. In a hotcountry like this they wanted lots of room, and all the houses are surrounded by large yards, with an abundance of shade-trees.
"The population is about half a million, and includes Hindoos, Moslems, Christians, and Buddhists, together with a miscellaneous lot that it would be difficult to classify. The Hindoos comprise more than half the population: there are 150,000 Moslems, and about 25,000 Christians, mostly Europeans and Eurasians.
"On the streets the mingling of costumes forms a curious scene. Red turbans and white, blue turbans and gray, skull-caps, tarbooshes, straw-hats, and sola-topees are thrown together like the combinations of a kaleidoscope; but the turbans are most numerous, and frequently crowd some of the other head-gear out of sight. Most of the natives are dressed in white: much of it is spotlessly clean, and evidently fresh from the laundryman; but there are many who cannot afford clean linen every day, and consequently their garments are the reverse of pleasing in appearance. Evidently the natives of India have no trouble with the change of fashions, as their garments are said to be of exactly the same cut and material from one century to another.
THE MAIDAN, OR ESPLANADE OF CALCUTTA.
"The English have done much for Calcutta, and an inhabitant of two hundred years ago would hardly recognize his old home if he should revisit it to-day. There are many public buildings that would do honor to a large city in Europe or America; there are public gardens, beautiful little parks, handsome lawns, artificial ponds, and the like, which are collectively very attractive. There is a large open space called the Maidan, or Esplanade, with several roads across it, and one along the bank of the river, and the society of Calcutta comes here for its daily drive at sunset. We rode there last evening and saw a great many showy turnouts, some of them belonging to wealthy natives, who seem to be fond of display. Drivers and footmen were in native dress, which is constructed so as to present the most attractive colors in the most attractive forms. Red and green and blue turbans rolled by us in rapid succession, till we began to wonder if the swiftly-moving panorama would ever come to an end. Those whose rank allows it have the additional attraction of outriders, and these fellows are by no means less picturesque than the rest.
A COLLISION.
"The drive lasted an hour or so, and when it was fairly dusk the carriages filed away, and the Maidan became perfectly quiet with the exception of a stray vehicle now and then which had been belated, or the matter-of-fact bullock cart or wagon of the lower classes. Sometimes the fashionable carriages come in collision with each other, but generally the accidents that occur are the result of carriages and bullock-carts meeting,owing to bad management by the drivers of the latter. We saw one of these encounters, and for a few seconds it seemed as though the bullock would step into the carriage, in spite of the efforts of his driver, and also of the gentleman on the box of the carriage, to keep him out.
"The compradors attached to the foreign commission houses have a special kind of light cart with two wheels, which they use in going from their offices to the harbor and back again. The comprador is his own driver, and it is not an unusual sight in the busy hours of the day to see one of these fellows dashing along to the great peril of the people on foot; he is generally in a hurry, or at least pretends to be, but his hurry is confined to his riding rather than to his walking. If you watch him when he is on foot, you find that he moves with as much dignity as any one else, and does not intend to throw himself into a perspiration.
"Every carriage of any distinction has a syce or groom to run ahead of it, and they tell us that these men will keep up with the horses as fast as the latter can go, and will often be practically unwearied when the animals are tired out. They are all Moslems, and are fine muscular fellows,with only a turban on the head and a strip of cloth around the waist, so that they have perfect freedom for the movements of their limbs.
AN UNPLEASANT OCCURRENCE.
"In one of the smaller streets we saw a collision between two palanquins, which resulted in the occupant of one being spilled out, and a general mixing up of the little crowd around it. For a few minutes it looked as though there would be a fight, but nothing of the kind happened, and the whole affair was soon over. The natives are very careless while driving or walking, and you must keep a sharp lookout for the poles of palanquins orpalkees. They are as cunning as they are careless, and we have heard some funny stories about their tricks. Here is one of them:
"An Englishman bought a black horse one day from a native dealer, and particularly admired the glossy coat of the animal. That night an attempt was made to steal him from the stable, and it came very near succeeding; the next day the purchaser discovered that the horse had been dyed with a peculiar preparation that would wash off with strong soapand water. It was the intention of the dealer to steal the horse before the trick could be discovered, and then by washing him he could not be identified, as the natural color of his coat was gray; the gentleman learned that the horse had been sold and stolen at least half a dozen times. Doctor Bronson says the American horse jockeys might learn some useful lessons by coming to India, and he hopes a good many of them will come—and stay.
HARBOR OF CALCUTTA.
"The river forms the harbor of Calcutta, and sometimes the amount of shipping here is very great. Nearly all the ships are English, as they have the most of the carrying-trade of the world, and as we drove along the bank of the river to-day we saw only four vessels flying the American flag. Twenty-five years ago we should have seen ten times as many and perhaps more; American ships are fast disappearing from the ports of the East, and at the rate they are going we should not be able to find one of them in the harbor of Calcutta a decade hence. What a pity it is! as our flag flying from the mast of a ship, when we are so far away from home, is always a most welcome sight to a travelling American. We wonder if our foreign trade will ever revive so that our ships will be as abundant in Eastern waters as we are told they were before our civil war?
"The ships lie against the bank of the river for two or three miles, and in some places they are three or four deep, so that at a distance their masts resemble a forest of trees stripped of their foliage. Twice in recent times Calcutta has been visited by hurricanes or typhoons—in 1842 and 1864—and on both these occasions nearly all the ships in the harbor were driven from their moorings, and many sunk. A gentleman who was here during the last of these storms says the ships were actually piled one above another, and that the loss of property was very great. This was the storm that flooded Saugur Island and all the lower part of the Hoogly, and caused an enormous loss of life. The centre of the typhoon of 1842 passed directly over Calcutta, and that of 1864 within a few miles of it.
"Going up the bank of the river from the Maidan we pass a long line of great warehouses that front on the water, and come to the bridge over the Hoogly. Doctor Bronson says this is the largest bridge of the kind in the world, as it is neither on piles nor suspended, but is supported by pontoons. He advises us to describe it, as it will be interesting to all boys whose fathers are engineers, and to a good many others besides; so we'll try.
"Owing to the treacherous sands of the river, and the great depthnecessary for piers for a fixed bridge, it was determined to build a floating one, so that it could be economically constructed, and easily repaired in case of accident. The bridge is more than 1500 feet long from one abutment to the other, has a roadway forty-eight feet wide, and footways seven feet broad on each side, and is said to have cost at the rate of ten dollars for every square foot of platform. The platform is of wood, resting on iron girders, which are supported twenty-four feet above the water by timber trusses resting on iron pontoons. There are twenty-eight of these pontoons, each 160 feet long and ten feet broad; they are each divided into eleven water-tight compartments, and moored both up and down stream by means of iron cables. Viewed from the lower part of the harbor as one approaches from the sea, the bridge appears like a massive fixed structure, and we could hardly believe the captain of the steamer when he told us that it was only a floating affair, resting on pontoons.
"There, we've described the bridge the best way we can, and the Doctor says it is very well done for inexperienced boys like ourselves. We'll stop now and rest awhile."
The letter about Calcutta continued as follows:
"From the Hoogly bridge we went to see the famous Burning Ghaut, where the Hindoos dispose of their dead. Ghaut means 'steps,' and the Burning Ghaut is nothing more nor less than a series of steps on the bank of the river, with a wide platform at the top.
THE BURNING GHAUT AT CALCUTTA.
"When we entered the place the sight that met our eyes was anything but pleasing. The Burning Ghaut is the place where the Hindoos burn their dead, and it is situated on the banks of the Hoogly, a branch of the Ganges, in order that when the cremation is finished the ashes may be thrown into the sacred river and swept away to sea. The bodies to be burnt are placed on piles of wood, and the torch is applied by one of the relatives of the deceased. If the person was wealthy there is generally a large assemblage of mourners, some of them being relatives, and others hired for the occasion; all are dressed in white robes of a peculiar pattern, such as are worn only by mourners, and the sounds of lamentation are often very loud and prolonged. But if the deceased individual was poor the ceremony is very brief, and there are no mourners, nor is the funeral pile as large as in the other case.
"It is said that formerly the priests used to put out the fires before the bodies were half consumed, in order to save the wood; the remains were then thrown into the river and floated down among or past the shipping. There were so many complaints of the disagreeable sights forced upon those who were coming up the river, that the Government has of late years stationed an officer at the Burning Ghaut to see that the work is properly done, and only the ashes find their way into the Ganges.
"As we came into the place we saw the body of a man lying upon a pile of wood from which the flames were rising; near the head of the pile stood a crowd of mourners singing a funeral song or chant, and two or three vultures were perched on the wall above them. A funeral partyhad just arrived, and the men who attended to the burning were rushing about to prepare the pile for the new-comer. We only remained a few minutes, as a very brief survey of the scene was quite enough to gratify our curiosity.
"The worst sight of all was in a bamboo shed at the side of the ghaut farthest from the river, where two or three dying persons were lying on mats, and evidently near the end of their lives. Doctor Bronson says it is the custom of the Hindoos, when a man is supposed to be sick unto death, to carry him to the bank of the river, so that he may die with his eyes looking on the sacred waters. They pour water in his face, and stuff his mouth with mud from the bank of the stream, and his death isgenerally hastened along pretty rapidly. If he should recover, which sometimes happens, after this ceremony is performed, his friends will not recognize him, and he is ever after treated as an outcast; his property is divided among his heirs, and he is considered legally dead, without any rights whatever. No one will associate with him, and he finds life such a burden that he is usually glad to end his troubles by throwing himself into the river.
"A far more enjoyable excursion than this was to the botanical gardens which are on the opposite bank of the river, about three miles from the Hoogly bridge. We went there in a carriage and had a delightful drive, not only on the road but through the garden. The garden contains nearly 300 acres, and has a front of a mile on the river; it was laid out a hundred years ago as an experimental garden, to ascertain what foreign plants would grow to advantage in India. This garden was the cause of the introduction of tea into India, and also of the cinchona-trees, from which quinine is made.
"One of the finest banyan-trees in the world is in this garden; it is a hundred years old, and its trunk is fifty-one feet in circumference, while it has 170 roots that descend from the branches to the ground. It makes a whole grove by itself, and is a wonderful thing to look at and sit under.
"There are avenues of mahogany-trees and palms, the latter in greatvariety, and there are groves and avenues of trees whose names are quite unknown to anybody in America except to botanists. There are flower-beds in great number, and there is a conservatory, 200 feet long, filled as full as it can be with all sorts of floral products. In some respects the garden is finer than the one at Kandy, Ceylon, while in others it is hardly equal to it.