CHAP. II.TATTA TO HYDRABAD.
Tatta.
A week’s stay was agreeably spent in examining Tatta and the objects of curiosity which surround it. The city stands at a distance of three miles from the Indus. It is celebrated in the history of the East. Its commercial prosperity passed away with the empire of Delhi, and its ruin has been completed since it fell under the iron despotism of the present rulers of Sinde. It does not contain a population of 15,000 souls; and of the houses scattered about its ruins, one half are destitute of inhabitants. It is said, that the dissentions between the last and present dynasties, which led to Sinde being overrun by the Afghans, terrified the merchants of the city, who fled the country at that time, and have had no encouragement to return. Of the weavers of “loongees” (a kind of silk and cotton manufacture), for which this place was once so famous, but 125 families remain. There are not forty merchants[4]in the city. Twenty money-changers transact all the business of Tatta; andits limited population is now supplied with animal food by five butchers. Such has been the gradual decay of that mighty city, so populous in the early part of last century, in the days of Nadir Shah. The country in its vicinity lies neglected, and but a small portion of it is brought under tillage.
Its antiquity.
The antiquity of Tatta is unquestioned. The Pattala of the Greeks has been sought for in its position, and, I believe, with good reason; for the Indus here divides into two great branches; and these are the words of the historian:—“Near Pattala, the river Indus divides itself into two vast branches.”[5]Both Robertson and Vincent appear to have entertained the opinion of its identity with Tatta. The Hindoo Rajas named it Sameenuggur, before the Mahommedan invasion; which I believe to be the Minagur of the Periplus. There is a ruined city, called Kullancote, to be yet seen, four miles S.W. of Tatta. It was also named Brahminabad, and ruled by one brother, while another held Hydrabad, then called Nerancote; the Arabs called it Dewul Sindy. Nuggur Tatta (by which it is now familiarly known) is a more modern name. Till the Talpoors secured their present footing in Sinde, it was always the capital of the country. It is an open town, built on a rising ground in alow valley. In several wells I found bricks imbedded in earth, at a depth of twenty feet from the surface; but there are no remains of a prior date to the tombs, on a remarkable ridge westward of the town, which are about 200 years old. The houses are formed of wood and wicker-work, plastered over with earth; they are lofty, with flat roofs, but very confined, and resemble square towers; their colour, which is of a greyish murky hue, gives an appearance of solidity to the frail materials of which they are constructed. Some of the better sort have a base of brickwork; but stone has only been used in the foundations of one or two mosques, though it may be had in abundance. There is little in modern Tatta to remind one of its former greatness. A spacious brick mosque, built by Shah Jehan, still remains, but is crumbling to decay.
Hinglaj, a famous pilgrimage.
Tatta stands on the high road from India to Hinglaj, in Mekran, a place of pilgrimage and great celebrity, situated under the barren mountains of Hala (the Irus of the ancients), and marked only by a spring of fresh water, without house or temple. The spot is believed to have been visited by Ramchunder, the Hindoo demi-god, himself; an event which is chronicled on the rock, with figures of the sun and moon engraven as further testimony! The distance from Tatta exceeds 200 miles; and the roadpasses by Curachee, Soumeeanee, and the province of Lus, the country of the Noomrees, a portion of the route of Alexander the Great. A journey to Hinglaj purifies the pilgrim from his sins; a cocoa-nut, cast into a cistern, exhibits the nature of his career: if the water bubbles up, his life has been, and will continue, pure; but if still and silent, the Hindoo must undergo further penance, to appease the deity. The tribe of Goseins, who are a kind of religious mendicants, though frequently merchants and most wealthy, frequent this sequestered place, and often extend their journey to an island called Seetadeep, not far from Bunder Abbass, in Persia. They travel in caravans of an hundred, or even more, under an “agwa,” or spiritual guide. At Tatta they are furnished by the high-priest with a rod, which is supposed to partake of his own virtues, and to conduct thecortègeto its destination. In exchange for its talismanic powers, each pilgrim pays three rupees and a half, and faithfully promises to restore the rod on his return; for no one dares to reside in so holy and solitary a spot. The “agwa” receives with it his reward; and many a Hindoo expends in this pilgrimage the hard-earned wealth of a whole life. On his arrival at Tatta from Hinglaj, he is invested with a string of white beads, peculiar to that city, and only found on the rocky ridge near it. They resemble the grains of pulse or juwaree; and the pilgrim has the satisfaction of believing that they are the petrified grain of the Creator, left on earth to remind him of his creation. They now form a monopoly and source of profit to the priests of Tatta.
Climate. Return to the mouth of the Indus.
We quitted Tatta on the morning of the 10th of April, and retraced our steps to Meerpoor; a distance of twenty-four miles, over roads nearly impassable from rain. I observe, in Hamilton’s “India,” that there is frequently a dearth of it here for three years at a time; but we had very heavy showers and a severe fall of hail, though the thermometer stood at 86°. The dews and mists about Tatta make it a disagreeable residence at this season; and the dust is described as intolerable in June and July.
Our road lay through a desert country along the “Buggaur;” one of the two large branches of the Indus, which separate below Tatta. It has its name from the destructive velocity with which it runs, tearing up trees in its course. It has been forsaken for a few years past, and had only a width of 200 yards where we crossed it, below Meerpoor. The Indus itself, before this division takes place, is a noble river; and we beheld it at Tatta with high gratification. The water is foul and muddy; but it is 2000 feet wide, two fathoms and a half deep, from shore to shore. When Ifirst saw it, the surface was agitated by a violent wind, which had raised up waves, that raged with great fury; and I no longer felt wonder at the natives designating so vast a river by the name of “durya,” or the Sea of Sinde.
Notions of the people.
On our return, we saw much of the people, who were disposed from the first to treat us more kindly than the government. Their notions regarding us were strange: some asked us why we allowed dogs to clean our hands after a meal, and if we indiscriminately ate cats and mice, as well as pigs. They complained much of their rulers, and the ruinous and oppressive system of taxation to which they were subjected, as it deterred them from cultivating any considerable portion of land. Immense tracts of the richest soil lie in a state of nature, between Tatta and the sea, overgrown with tamarisk shrubs, which attain, in some places, the height of twenty feet, and, threading into one another, form impervious thickets. At other places, we passed extensive plains of hard-caked clay, with remains of ditches and aqueducts, now neglected. We reached the sea in two days.
Alexander’s journey.
Arrian informs us, that, after Alexander returned from viewing the right branch of the Indus, he again set out from Pattala, and descended the other branch of the river, which conducted him to a “certain lake, joined eitherby the river spreading wide over a flat country, or by additional streams flowing into it from the adjacent parts, and making it appear like a bay in the sea.” There, too, he commanded another haven to be built, named Xylenopolis. The professed object of this second voyage to the sea was to seek for bays and creeks on the sea-coast, and to explore which of the two branches would afford the greatest facilities for the passage of his fleet; for Arrian says, “he had a vast ambition of sailing all through the sea, from India to Persia, to prove that the Indian Gulf had a communication with the Persian.” In this bay Alexander landed, with a party of horse, and travelled along the coast, to try if he could find bays and creeks to secure his fleets from storms; “causing wells to be dug, to supply his navy with water.” I look upon it, therefore, as conclusive that Alexander the Great descended by the Buggaur and Sata, the two great branches below Tatta, and never entered Cutch, as has been surmised, but that his three days’ journey, after descending the eastern branch, was westward, and between the two mouths, in the direction his fleet was to sail.
Embark on the Indus. Boats.
On the 12th of April, we embarked in the flat-bottomed boats, or “doondees,” of Sinde, and commenced our voyage on the Indus, with no small degree of satisfaction. Our fleet consisted of six of these flat-bottomed vessels, and a small English-built pinnace, which we had brought from Cutch. The boats of the Indus are not unlike China junks, very capacious, but most unwieldy. They are floating houses; and with ourselves we transported the boatmen, their wives and families, kids and fowls. When there is no wind, they are pulled up against the stream, by ropes attached to the mast-head, at the rate of a mile and a half an hour; but with a breeze, they set a large square-sail, and advance double the distance. We halted at Vikkur, which is the first port; a place of considerable export for grain, that had then fifty “doondees,” besides sea-vessels, lying near it.
Wanyanee branch.
On the 13th, we threaded many small creeks for a distance of eight miles, and then entered the Wanyanee, or principal branch of the Indus, which is a fine river, 500 yards broad and 24 feet deep. Its banks were alternately steep and flat, the course very crooked, and the different turnings were often marked by branches running from this trunk to other arms of the delta. We had nothing but tamarisk on either bank, and the reed huts of a few fishermen, alone indicated that we were in a peopled country.
A holy man.
As we ascended the river, the inhabitants came for miles around to see us. A Syud stood on the water’s edge, and gazed with astonishment. He turned to his companion as we passed, and, in the hearing of one of our party, said, “Alas! Sinde is now gone, since the English have seen the river, which is the road to its conquest.” If such an event do happen, I am certain that the body of the people will hail the happy day; but it will be an evil one for the Syuds, the descendants of Mahommed, who are the only people, besides the rulers, that derive precedence and profit from the existing order of things.
Strictness of religious observances.
Nothing more arrests the notice of a stranger, on entering Sinde, than the severe attention of the people to the forms of religion, as enjoined by the Prophet of Arabia. In all places, the meanest and poorest of mankind may be seen, at the appointed hours, turned towards Mecca, offering up their prayers. I have observed a boatman quit the laborious duty of dragging the vessel against the stream, and retire to the shore, wet and covered with mud, to perform his genuflexions. In the smallest villages, the sound of the “mowuzzun,” or crier, summoning true believers to prayers, may be heard, and the Mahommedans within reach of the sonorous sound suspend, for the moment, their employment, that they may add their “Amen” to the solemn sentence when concluded. The effect is pleasing and impressive; but, as has often happened inother countries at a like stage of civilisation, the moral qualities of the people do not keep pace with this fervency of devotion.
Navigation of the Indus.
On the evening of the 15th, we anchored at Tatta, after a prosperous voyage, that afforded a good insight into the navigation of the Indus; which, in the Delta, is both dangerous and difficult. The water runs with impetuosity from one bank to another, and undermines them so, that they often fall in masses which would crush a vessel. During night they may be heard tumbling with a terrific crash and a noise as loud as artillery. In one place, the sweep of the river was so sudden that it had formed a kind of whirlpool, and all our vessels heeled round, on passing it, from the rapidity of the current. We had every where six fathoms of water, and in these eddies the depth was sometimes threefold; but our vessels avoided the strength of the current, and shifted from side to side, to choose the shallows.
Pulla fish.
We ascended the Indus in the season of the “pulla,” a fish of the carp species, as large as the mackerel, and fully equalling the flavour of salmon. It is only found in the four months that precede the swell of the river from January to April, and never higher than the fortress of Bukkur. The natives superstitiously believe the fish to proceed there on account of KhajuKhizr, a saint of celebrity, who is interred there, from whence they are said to return without ever turning their tails on the sanctified spot,—an assertion which the muddy colour of the Indus will prevent being contradicted. The mode of catching this fish is ingenious, and peculiar, I believe, to the Indus. Each fisherman is provided with a large earthen jar, open at the top, and somewhat flat. On this he places himself, and, lying on it horizontally, launches into the stream, swimming or pushing forward like a frog, and guiding himself with his hands. When he has reached the middle of the river, where the current is strongest, he darts his net directly under him, and sails down with the stream. The net consists of a pouch attached to a pole, which he shuts on meeting his game; he then draws it up, spears it, and, putting it into the vessel on which he floats, prosecutes his occupation. There are some vessels of small dimensions, without any orifice, and on these the fishermen sail down, in a sitting posture. Hundreds of people, old and young, may be seen engaged in catching pulla, and the season is hailed with joy by the people, as furnishing a wholesome food while it lasts, and an abundant supply of dry fish for the remaining part of the year, as well as for exportation to the neighbouring countries.
Reach the capital.
On the morning of the 18th, we moored opposite Hydrabad, which is five miles inland, having had a strong and favourable breeze from Tatta, that brought us against the stream, at the rate of three miles an hour. The dust was intolerable every where, and a village might always be discovered by the dense clouds which hovered over it. This part of Sinde is well known: the country is devoted to sterility by the Ameers, to feed their passion for the chase. The banks are enclosed to the water’s edge, and the interior of these hunting-thickets is overgrown with furze, brushwood, and stunted babool trees, which always retain a verdant hue, from the richness of the soil. One or two solitary camels were to be seen raising water to fill the pools of these preserves, as the Ameer and his relatives had announced a hunting excursion, and the deer[6]would be drawn by thirst to drink at the only fountain, and shot by an Ameer from a place of concealment. It is thus that the chiefs sport with their game and their subjects.
Deputation from the Ameer.
Immediately on our arrival, four different deputations waited on us, to convey the congratulations of Meer Moorad Ali Khan, and his family, at our having reached the capital ofSinde, and at the same time to tender the strongest professions of friendship and respect for the British government; to all of which I returned suitable answers. In the evening we were conducted to Hydrabad, and alighted at the house, or “tanda,” of Nawab Wulee Mahommed Khan, the Vizier of Sinde, whose son, in the father’s absence, was appointed our mihmandar. Tents were pitched, and provisions of every description sent to us; and it would, indeed, have been difficult to discover that we were the individuals who had so long lingered about the shores of Sinde, now the honoured guests of its jealous master. Great and small were in attendance on us: khans and Syuds, servants and chobdars brought messages and enquiries, till the night was far spent; and it may not be amiss to mention, as a specimen of conducting business in Sinde, that the barber, the water-cooler, and the prime minister were sent indiscriminately with errands on the same subject.
Preparations for reception at court.
The ceremonial of our reception was soon adjusted, but not without some exhibition of Sindian character. After the time had been mutually fixed for the following afternoon, our mihmandar made his appearance atdaybreak, to request that we would then accompany him to the palace. I spoke of the arrangements that hadbeen made; but he treated all explanation with indifference, and eulogised, in extravagant language, the great condescension of his master in giving us an interview so early, while the Vakeels, or representatives of other states, often waited for weeks. I informed the Khan that I entertained very different sentiments regarding his master’s giving us so early a reception, and assured him that I viewed it as no sort of favour, and was satisfied that the Ameer himself was proud in receiving, at any time, any agent of the British Government. The reply silenced him, and he shortly afterwards withdrew, and sent an apology for this importunity, which, he stated, had originated in a mistake. The pride of the Sindian must be met by the same weapons; and, however disagreeable the line of conduct, it will be found, in all matters of negotiation, to carry along with it its own reward: altercations that have passed will be succeeded by civility and politeness, and a shade of oblivion will be cast over all that is unpleasant.
Presentation.
In the evening we were presented to the Ameer of Sinde by his son, Nusseer Khan, who had previously received us in his own apartments, to inform us of his attachment to the British Government, and the state secret of his having been the means of procuring for us a passage through Sinde. We found the Ameerseated in the middle of a room, attended by his various relatives: they all rose on our entrance, and were studiously polite. His Highness addressed me by name; said I was his friend, both on public and private grounds; for my brother (Dr. Burnes) had cured him of a dangerous disease. At the same time he caused me to be seated along with him on the cushion which he occupied: he begged that I would forget the difficulties and dangers encountered, and consider him as the ally of the British Government, and my own friend. The long detention which had occurred in our advance, he continued, had arisen from his ignorance of political concerns, as he considered it involved a breach of the treaty between the states; for he was a soldier, and knew little of such matters, and was employed in commandingthe three hundred thousand Beloochees, over whom God had appointed him to rule! We had now, however, arrived at his capital, and he assured us that we were welcome: his own state barge should convey us to his frontier; his subjects should drag our vessels against the stream. Elephants and palanqueens were at our disposal, if we would accept them; and he would vie in exertion with ourselves, to forward, in safety, the presents of his Most Gracious Majesty the King of Great Britain, and had nominated the son ofhis Vizier to accompany us to the limits of his territories. I did not deem it necessary to enter into any explanation with his Highness, nor to give him in return the muster-roll of our mighty army. I thanked him for his marks of attention to the Government and ourselves, and said, that I was glad to find that the friendship between the states, which had led to my taking the route through his dominions, had not been underrated; for it would be worse than folly in an unprotected individual to attempt a passage by the Indus without his cordial concurrence. With regard to the dangers and difficulties which had been already encountered, I assured his Highness, that the prevailing good fortune of the British Government had predominated; and though it was not in the power of man to avert calamities by sea, we had by the favour of God happily escaped them all, and I doubted not that the authorities I served would derive as much satisfaction from the manner in which he had now received us as I myself did. The interview here terminated; his Highness previously fixing the following morning for a second meeting, when I would communicate some matters of a political nature with which I had been charged by the Government.
Court of Sinde.
I shall not enter on a description of the Courtof Sinde, as it may be found in Lieut. Col. Pottinger’s work, and in a narrative lately published by my brother.[7]Its splendour must have faded, for though the Ameer and his family certainly wore some superb jewels, there was not much to attract our notice in their palace or durbar: they met in a dirty hall without a carpet; they sat in a room which was filled by a rabble of greasy soldiery, and the noise and dust were hardly to be endured. The orders of the Ameer himself to procure silence, though repeated several times, were ineffectual, and some of the conversation was inaudible on that account. We were, however, informed that the crowd had been collected to display the legions of Sinde; and they certainly contrived to fill the alleys and passages every where, not could we pass out of the fort without some exertion on the part of the nobles, who were our conductors.
Presents.
I followed up the interview by sending the government presents which I had brought for his Highness: they consisted of various articles of European manufacture,—a gun, a brace of pistols, a gold watch, two telescopes, a clock, some English shawls and cloths, with two pair of elegant cut glass candlesticks and shades. Some Persian works beautifully lithographed inBombay, and a map of the World and Hindoostan, in Persian characters, completed the gift. The principal Ameer had previously sent two messages, begging that I would not give the articles to any person but himself; and the possessor of fifteen millions sterling portioned, with a partial hand, among the members of his family, the gifts that did not exceed the value of a few hundred pounds.Sindian meanness.His meanness may be imagined, when he privately deputed his Vizier to beg that I would exchange the clock and candlesticks for some articles among the presents, which I doubtless had for other chiefs, as they formed no part of the furniture of a Sindian palace. I told the Vizier that the presents which I had brought were intended to display the manufactures of Europe, and it was not customary to give the property of one person to another. This denial produced a second message; and, as a similar occurrence happened, in 1809, to a mission at this court, we gather from the coincidence how little spirit and feeling actuate the cabinet of Hydrabad. Some score of trays, loaded with fruit and sweetmeats adorned with gold-leaf, and sent by the different members of the family, closed the day.
Parting interview.
Early in the morning, we were conducted to the durbar by Meer Ismaeel Shah, one of the Viziers, and our mihmandar: on the road theVizier took occasion to assure me how much I would please the Ameer by changing the clock! There was more order and regularity in our second interview, which was altogether very satisfactory; for the Ameer gave a ready assent to the wishes of Government when they were communicated to him. The conversation which ensued was of the most friendly description. His Highness asked particularly for my brother, looked attentively at our dress, and was much amused with the shape and feather of the cocked hat I wore. Before bidding him adieu, he repeated, in even stronger language, all his yesterday’s professions; and, however questionable his sincerity, I took my departure with much satisfaction at what had passed, since it seemed he would no longer interrupt our advance to Lahore. Meer Nusseer Khan, the son of the Ameer, presented me with a handsome Damascus sword, which had a scabbard of red velvet ornamented with gold; his father sent me a purse of fifteen hundred rupees, with an apology, that he had not a blade mounted as he desired, and begged I would accept the value of one. After all the inconvenience to which we had been subjected, we hardly expected such a reception at Hydrabad. Next morning we left the city, and encamped on the banks of the Indus near our boats.
Scenery near Hydrabad.
The scenery near the capital of Sinde is varied and beautiful: the sides of the river are lined with lofty trees; and there is a background of hill to relieve the eye from the monotony which presents itself in the dusty arid plains of the Delta. The Indus is larger, too, than in most places lower down, being about 830 yards wide; there is a sand-bank in the middle, but it is hidden by the stream. The island on which Hydrabad stands is barren, from the rocky and hilly nature of the soil, but even the arable parts are poorly cultivated.
Hydrabad.
On the capital itself, I can add little to the accounts which are already on record. It does not contain a population of twenty thousand souls, who live in houses, or rather huts, built of mud. The residence of the chief himself is a comfortless miserable dwelling. The fort, as well as the town, stands on a rocky hillock; and the former is a mere shell, partly surrounded by a ditch, about ten feet wide and eight deep, over which there is a wooden bridge. The walls are about twenty-five feet high, built of brick, and fast going to decay. Hydrabad is a place of no strength, and might readily be captured by escalade. In the centre of the fort there is a massive tower, unconnected with the works, which overlooks the surrounding country. Here are deposited a great portion of the riches ofSinde. The Fulailee river insulates the ground on which Hydrabad stands; but, though a considerable stream during the swell, it was quite dry when we visited this city in April. The view of Hydrabad, prefixed to this volume, and for which I am indebted to Captain M. Grindlay, faithfully represents that capital and the country which surrounds it.