MARCH, 1839.
I left myself in the hands of friends
in Calcutta as to the best mode of proceeding to my
destination. There were at that time three modes
of travelling to the North-Western Provinces.
One was being carried in a palanquin on men’s
shoulders, arrangements being made to have fresh bearers
every few miles. For a long journey of more than
four hundred miles to Benares this was at once a very
tedious and fatiguing mode of travelling. To
one who knew not a word of the language of the people
in whose hands one was to be for days it was additionally
trying. Yet not a few persons newly arrived,
some of them delicate ladies, did travel in that mode
to far more distant places than Benares, and very seldom
any mishap befell them. In this mode little more
could be taken in the way of luggage than necessary
clothing.
Another mode was by the river in a
native boat, with a crew engaged to take the party
to their destination. Not a few travelled in this
way, even to Delhi. Weeks, often months, were
spent on the voyage; great inconveniences were endured,
and not infrequently great perils encountered from
the sudden storms to which voyagers on the Ganges are
exposed, from the strong and eddying currents in some
parts of the river, and perhaps most of all from the
treacherous character of the boatmen. In 1841
and 1842 a severe storm fell on a large fleet of boats
taking a European regiment to the north-west.
Many of the boats were wrecked, and, if I remember
rightly, about three hundred men lost their lives.
There was a third mode of proceeding
to the north-west. A few years previously a River
Steam Company had been formed for the transmission
of passengers and goods. Passengers were accommodated
in flats drawn by steamers. As the Ganges enters
Bengal it breaks into a number of streams, by which
it makes its way to the ocean. The Hoogly, on
which Calcutta stands, is one of these streams.
Some of them are so shallow at certain seasons that
native boats of considerable size cannot find sufficient
water, and they are at that time impassable for steamers,
though so constructed as to have the least possible
draught. The result is that the steamers for
the north-west (we believe none ply now) had to make
a great detour, to go down the Hoogly to Saugor Island,
and then to proceed by one of the channels there found
to the main stream. This greatly increased the
distance to the north-west. Except in the rainy
season, steamers for Benares had to go about eight
hundred miles.
Of these three routes this one of
the river steamers was in many respects the most convenient
and pleasant, especially for persons new in the country,
and my Calcutta friends kindly arranged that I should
be sent on in this way. I accordingly embarked
for Benares on a flat, tugged by a steamer, in the
first week of March. After going down the Hoogly
to Saugor Island, we made our way into the district
called the Sunderbuns by one of the channels of the
Ganges. We got into a labyrinth of streams, every
here and there opening up into a wide reach of water,
giving one the impression we were entering a lake;
and shortly afterwards we found ourselves in a channel
so narrow that we almost touched the banks on both
sides, and which barely allowed a passage where there
was a sharp turn in the stream. We had native
pilots who knew the region thoroughly, and were in
no danger of going astray. The land down to the
water’s edge was covered with the densest tropical
vegetation, so that the banks often bounded our view,
except when the trees on it were lower than those
beyond. In the waters and out, wild beasts abound.
Alligators were seen dropping from the banks into the
stream on hearing the approach of the steamer.
We saw no tigers, but we heard much about them as
we were threading our way through that region.
The previous year, early one morning, the watch on
the deck of the flat was startled by a tiger leaping
on board, and, evidently bewildered by its new circumstances,
leaping off on the other side. Messrs. Lacroix
and Gogerly, when on a native boat in the Sunderbuns,
were witnesses of a desperate fight between a tiger
and an alligator. The story has been often told.
Less than two centuries ago there
was a large population in what may be called that
amphibious region, the soil when cleared being very
rich; but owing to the incursions of Mug pirates from
the coast of Burmah, and the oppression of Muhammadan
rulers of Bengal, the most of the inhabitants perished,
others fled, and so complete was the ruin that the
exact site of once prosperous cities is unknown.
In a region like the Sunderbuns, when man’s
restraining and improving hand is withdrawn every
trace of his presence disappears under the rank vegetation,
which speedily covers the sphere of his labours.
The country, under British protection, was in 1839
beginning to be reoccupied. Patches of ground
were reclaimed from the jungle, and since that time
cultivation has been greatly extended. We occasionally
met native boats, and were thus reminded we were not
the only human begins in that district. Nearly
a week elapsed before we emerged from the Sunderbuns.
Our passengers were a motley band.
Between twenty and thirty were Europeans, two or three
were Eurasians, and there was a company of Sepoys
under a native officer in charge of treasure.
Most of the Sepoys were Hindus, and as they cannot
cook on the water, which is forbidden by caste-law,
they were obliged to subsist as they best could on
dry grain. The Muhammadans had no convenience
for cooking on the flat, but they were allowed partial
use of the steamer. All were delighted when they
got into the open country, and could get on shore at
night to prepare their meals.
The steamer and flat were brought
to anchor at all the important towns on the river,
for lading and unlading goods and for landing passengers,
of whom very few left us, as most were bound for Benares
and Allahabad. When evening came on we always
anchored, wherever we might be. We saw a little
of Bhagulpore, Monghyr, Dinapore, Patna, Ghazeepore,
and some other places. At Monghyr I spent a very
pleasant evening with Mr. Leslie of the Baptist Mission,
even then of considerable standing, and years afterwards
a highly esteemed veteran in the missionary host.
Our progress was slow. In some
places the stream was too strong for our steamer tugging
the flat, and in other places the water was too shallow.
Sometimes we got for hours, in one case for a whole
day, on sandbanks, from which we got off with great
difficulty. The most memorable incident of the
voyage was a storm, which came on us one evening as
we were nearing Dinapore. There was so little
warning of its approach that we, who knew not the
climate, were quite unprepared for its coming.
Before breaking on us we were brought to a standstill,
the flat was separated from the steamer, and both
flat and steamer were brought to anchor. The
sky suddenly became dark, we heard puffs of wind, and
then the storm burst on us in all its fury. The
dust was so raised that we could see only a few feet
from the flat, and the flat so rolled that every now
and then a splash of water came in at the windows.
A scene of great confusion ensued. Some Indo-Portuguese
servants were on their knees, imploring Mary “Mariam,
Mariam!” to save them. The Hindus
were loud in their appeals to “Ram, Ram!”
while the Muhammadans shouted “Allah, Allah!”
A newly arrived English lady almost fainted from fright,
and her husband tried to calm and assure her.
Every face indicated anxiety. In less than an
hour all was over, and we were thankful to find ourselves
once more in safety.
Before leaving England I had possessed
myself of a Hindustanee Grammar, and in Calcutta of
a Hindustanee Dictionary. On the voyage to India
I did not make much of the grammar, but on the way
to Benares I gave myself resolutely to learning the
language. I found a young native officer on the
flat who knew a little English, and who professed to
be a good Hindustanee scholar. I got the consent
of the native officer in command to his coming to
my cabin when off duty, and I spent hours daily with
him, trying to get my tongue about the strange sounds,
with which I knew I must be familiar if I was to do
the work for which I had come to India. I received
great help from this young Muhammadan, and felt as
if I was beginning to get my foot into the language
before reaching my destination.
On the three Sabbaths I was on the
river I had the pleasure of preaching to the Europeans
on board.
A voyage on the Ganges does not enable
one to see much of the country. The banks are
often very high; in many places there is a great extent
of sand; the country, with the exception of the district
where the main stream is entered, is very level, and
the country is therefore very imperfectly seen.
The native craft, so unlike the vessels of our own
country, with their lofty prows and sterns, and great
ragged square sails, many laden with wood and grass,
which made them like moving stacks, were constant
objects of interest.
At length, after more than three weeks
on board, we were delighted one Sunday forenoon to
see in the distance the domes and minarets of Benares.