Life and Work in Benares and Kumaon, 1839-1877 Part 12

During the hot season and rains of 1858 I suffered greatly from boils and feverishness. After applying in vain the usual means of cure prescribed, I was advised to try a sea voyage. I accordingly arranged to go down the Bay of Bengal to Point de Galle in Ceylon, and to await there the arrival of my wife from England, so as to return with her to India.

[Sidenote: VOYAGE TO CALCUTTA.]

The rebellion still flickered in Bahar. A part of the road to Calcutta was in the hand of Kower Singh, a rebel chief; and travellers like myself to the capital from the North-West were on that account happy to avail themselves of the river steamers. We had the clear sky and the gentle breeze of that delightful season in Northern India. From morning to night we sat under a thick awning, reading or talking, as we were inclined, refreshed by the breeze, and interested in the various objects presented to our view on the river and its banks. The fortnight of the voyage pa.s.sed most pleasantly, and I arrived in Calcutta half cured of my ailments. I was happy to find myself in time for the outgoing steamer of the P. and O. Company, on which I took pa.s.sage to Point de Galle. On landing I saw the last newspaper received from England with the list of pa.s.sengers for successive steamers, and from it I learned that my wife was to come a month later than I had antic.i.p.ated. This left me with five or six weeks in Ceylon to dispose of myself as I best could. I made up my mind to travel through the island. I accordingly left Galle by coach the next day for Colombo, the capital. After staying there a few days I set out for Kandy, the old capital; held on to Newera Ellia, the sanatorium of the island, lying under Pedro Talla Galla, its highest mountain; ascended the mountain, made my way back by another route to Kandy, and then proceeded to Galle, where I was happy to meet my wife and child, with whom I went on to Calcutta.

When I landed at Galle I was not aware that I knew a single individual in the island, but I was not an hour at the hotel to which I went before I found myself in company with a medical gentleman, a native of Perthshire, who knew my friends; and on my arrival at Colombo I was recognized on the street, by my resemblance to my father, by a person who had never seen me previously, but who knew him. It struck me it would be dangerous for me to attempt an incognito, which, happily, I had no temptation to do. During my travels in Ceylon I met several from the North of Scotland whom I had known intimately, and among them one who had been for years my schoolfellow. My countrymen were there, as elsewhere, prominent members of the community.

[Sidenote: THE SCENERY OF CEYLON.]

I was much interested in all I saw during my travels in Ceylon. I was prepared to see fine scenery and rich foliage, but the reality greatly exceeded my expectation. On the coast between Galle and Colombo there is a considerable extent of level land, covered by the cocoanut palm, which forms much of the wealth of the people. Every part of the tree is turned to account. The wood is used for rafters, and the leaves for thatching. The kernel is an article of food, but its princ.i.p.al value comes from the oil made from it after it has been dried. The nut contains a liquid, which is deemed by the natives very refreshing. The fibrous husk round the cocoanut, called coir, is manufactured into ropes, matting, brushes, and other useful articles. It is largely and profitably exported. The trees are tapped for a juice, which, boiled when fresh, gives what is called palm-sugar; but when kept, becomes intoxicating. The name of the tree in the native language is "Tar"; this intoxicating juice is called "Taree," and by a well-known custom of linguistic transposition it is called by English people "Toddy." We have at Benares palm-trees which furnish this toddy, and I am sorry to say it is by far too largely used. This cocoanut palm abounds on the coast, and is always bent towards the sea, as if to welcome its breezes, or to strengthen itself against them. Away from the coast it well-nigh disappears, and trees of a very different order are seen on every side, many of them rising to a great height and covered with beautiful foliage.

The scenery in the interior is very striking. When travelling on the top of the coach from Colombo to Kandy, I might have thought myself in my own Highlands, as mountain after mountain came into view, and our road in its descents and ascents skirted precipices, where safety demanded the most careful driving. Long, winding valleys, through which rivers flowed, with falls and cascades here and there, reminded me of our finest straths. I saw no large bodies of water like our lochs. There were two points of marked dissimilarity. The month was December; I required no great-coat, and the rays of the sun were stronger than was pleasant. Instead of the leafless trees, and the white covering of the snow of the Scottish winter, there were trees in their richest dress, and all around a verdure of the freshest green, telling me I was in a tropical land, and in a land where heat and moisture by their abundance gave extraordinary force to vegetation. As I travelled from Kandy to Newera Ellia, and back again to Kandy by a different route, my impression of the picturesqueness and productiveness of the country was confirmed. There was one thing I did not see--the blooming heather of my own Highlands.

There is, I suppose, no country where all that is desirable can be obtained. It must be acknowledged Ceylon has its disadvantages. Its climate is that of perpetual summer, warmer indeed at some times than at others, but never approaching our heat in Northern India in May and June. It is only six degrees from the equator, and it owes its moderate temperature to its sea breezes and abundant rain. I missed the bracing coolness of Northern India in December and January. Perpetual summer is good for neither soul nor body. For bodily health and enjoyment the alternation of cold and heat is far better, as in the moral world prosperity and adversity are required for the maturing of character.

There is one evil--I do not know whether I should call it a minor or a major evil--to which both man and beast are exposed in Ceylon. We have all heard of snakes in the gra.s.s. In the fine gra.s.s of Ceylon leeches abound, and are ever ready to take their unwelcome contribution from all that come their way. They leap up on pa.s.sers by, and try to exact from them their favourite food. I was often reminded by unpleasant nips that they had got hold of me. For months after leaving Ceylon I had on my limbs marks of their doings.

[Sidenote: PRODUCTS OF CEYLON.]

When travelling between Kandy and Newera Ellia, I was the guest of coffee-planters, all of them, so far as I remember, my own countrymen; and saw coffee in all its stages, from the berry on the coffee-bush on to the manufactured article ready for the market. The plant is indigenous in the island, but it was turned to little account till taken up by Europeans. The pioneers in its culture, as so often happens in such cases, are said to have lost heavily; but at the time of my visit plantations were paying well, and a large tract of land was under cultivation. I believe it afterwards ceased to be profitable, and now tea cultivation is taking its place.

At one time cinnamon was the most valuable export of the island, but by 1858 it had so decreased in value by its being produced abundantly in lands still farther east, that comparatively little attention was given to it. I was taken to the public garden in Colombo, and saw the work-people with their sharp knives peeling off the fragrant bark from the cinnamon-tree, and preparing it for the market.

Colombo, the capital, is a large, stirring, rising town. Galle is a much smaller place, and owes its importance to its being a place of call for steamers on account of its sheltered bay. It is noted for its pedlars, men who, with combs in their long hair, and clad in jacket and petticoat, might be taken for women. Their wares of jewellery and precious stones have not a high character for genuineness. Kandy, the old capital in the interior, is a small place, lying very low, and is surrounded by hills. It has a beautiful little artificial lake, and is famous for its temple, with a tooth of Buddha as its great treasure.

During the few weeks I was in Ceylon I was most hospitably entertained wherever I went by missionaries, chaplains, coffee-planters, and others.

I shall always retain a grateful recollection of the kindness I experienced. From these friends I heard much about the spiritual state of Ceylon. It is well known the Dutch were the first Europeans who obtained a footing in the island. They determined to stamp out heathenism and establish Christianity, not by violent persecution, but by reserving offices of every description for those who embraced the Christian faith, by treating them in every possible way as a privileged cla.s.s, and by showing official disfavour to the unbaptized. An agency composed of chaplains, catechists, and schoolmasters was appointed to bring the community within the Christian fold. The work went on with great apparent success. Tens of thousands avowed themselves Christians.

It looked as if heathenism was to disappear under Dutch rule. If the Dutch had retained possession of the island, and had persevered in their policy, in all likelihood by this time Ceylon would have been a professedly Christian country, with a strong underlying element of heathen notion and practice.

[Sidenote: BUDDHIST WORSHIPPERS.]

No sooner was the policy of neutrality adopted with the installation of English rule, than this large Christian community melted away, and flowed into the old channel of Buddhism, which had been for ages the religion of the Cingalese. The thousands of Christians were reduced to hundreds and tens. The London Missionary Society early entered the field, but withdrew. In the parts of Ceylon where I travelled I met with Methodist, Baptist, and Church of England missionaries, and in other districts there were American missionaries. The descendants of those who once were professed Christians retain some Christian notions, and adhere to some Christian practices. Baptism is still in favour with them, but it is never administered by Protestant missionaries except to those deemed fitting recipients. If Buddhists were consistent, caste in a mild form and to a limited extent might be tolerated, but could not be approved. They are not, however, consistent, and caste is much more regarded by them than Gautam would have sanctioned, though it has not among them the rigidity it has among the Hindus. I was told regarding one boarding inst.i.tution for young men, all ate together; but on returning to their homes they performed certain ceremonies which removed the defilement they had contracted. As to the general character of the native Christians, I inferred it was much the same as in India, with similar excellences and similar defects.

I went into some of the Buddhist temples. On the walls were sculptured the terrible sufferings of the wicked in the different h.e.l.ls into which, according to Buddhism, they are cast. The worshippers appeared to me remarkably stolid and listless, as if engaged in a work which could not be too mechanically performed. There was nothing of the animation of the Hindus when they are worshipping their G.o.ds.

I went into a large Roman Catholic church, and saw all the usual furniture of Roman Catholic worship. On the wall, the worship of demons by the faithful and their attendance at demon feasts was strongly denounced, and threatened with severe punishment; from which it would appear this was no uncommon offence.

I was struck with the ma.s.sy churches built by the Dutch in Galle and Colombo. They testify to the zeal of the first colonists, as if they were taking possession of the land for Christ, and were determined to maintain His worship, though far distant from the land of their fathers.

Dutch descendants and Scotch colonists now form the most of the worshippers in these places. The Dutch language still survives, and in 1858 some of the Dutch people understood no other. For them a service is held in their own language. I preached in both of these churches at the request of the chaplains. In one of them the Lord's Supper was administered, and the communicants were addressed first in English and then in Dutch.

Towards the end of December I left Galle with my wife and child for Calcutta, taking away with me pleasing recollections of the scenes I had witnessed, the information I had received, and the kindness I had experienced during my six weeks' travels in the island.

After a brief stay in Calcutta we made our way to Benares--the first part of the journey by the recently constructed railway, and the rest, the greater part of it, by a four-wheeled conveyance, drawn by a horse, called a Dawk Garry, arrangement for a fresh horse every sixth or seventh mile being made by the Dawk Garry Company. Instead of spending three weeks on the way, as we had done in 1839 when proceeding to Benares on a steamer, and twelve days in 1853 in a conveyance drawn by coolies, we now completed our journey in five days. We were glad to rejoin our brethren, and to resume our work in Benares.

CHAPTER XIX.

VISIT TO CITIES IN THE NORTH-WEST AND TO k.u.mAON--VISIT TO ENGLAND AND RETURN TO INDIA.

FROM 1859 TO 1866.

From the time of our arrival at Benares in January, 1859, on to our departure for the hills in March, 1861, the work of the Mission was carried on in the usual way. There were interruptions from failure of health, but during the most of the period the operations of the Mission were vigorously carried on with tokens of the Divine blessing.

[Sidenote: ENGLISH SERVICES.]

The princ.i.p.al change during this period was the greater attention given to the European population. Before 1857 the English-speaking population of Benares was very small, and as there was always an English chaplain at the place, and our Baptist brethren kept up an English service, our Mission did very little in this department. For a time we had an English service one evening in the week, but owing to the weakness of the Mission, and the pressing demands of native work, this had been given up. After the Mutiny the English-speaking population was largely increased by English soldiers, and persons connected with the Public Works. It was deemed inc.u.mbent on us to do something for our own countrymen, whose spiritual need was manifest to all. On this account English services on the Lord's Day were commenced. For a time two such services were held, one in the Mission chapel, and another in the schoolroom of the cavalry barracks. On the withdrawal of the cavalry this second service was discontinued. The service on the Lord's Day morning or forenoon in the Mission chapel has been steadily kept on till this time, has been generally well attended, and has been, I believe, productive of much good.

As the Rev. William Moody Blake, who joined the Mission in 1858, took the superintendence of the Central School, and with occasional a.s.sistance conducted the English services, the work among the native women and girls was left to be carried on by my wife, to which she had given her heart and strength from the time she became a member of the Mission in 1839, while I had the princ.i.p.al charge of evangelistic work among the heathen, and of ministering to the native Christians.

The most memorable episode of this period was a visit we paid to Allahabad, Cawnpore, and Lucknow, in the winter of 1859-60. We saw much on this tour which deeply and painfully interested us. I have already mentioned the desolation I saw on my visit to Allahabad at the end of 1857. During the two succeeding years the houses which had been burnt had been rebuilt, new houses had been erected, and new roads had been made. Traces of the desolation caused by the Mutiny remained, but there were on every side signs of great prosperity. Allahabad, from its position at the confluence of the Ganges and the Jumna, had always been deemed a place of great importance in both a military and civil aspect.

It rose to new importance by being made the seat of government for the North-West instead of Agra, and also by becoming the central railway-station, from which it was arranged railways should ramify to Lah.o.r.e and Peshawur in the north-west, to Calcutta in the east and south, to Jubbulpore and Bombay in the west, forming in Central India a connection with the railways in Southern India. This arrangement has been carried out, and now there is no city in the interior of the country which bears so close a resemblance as Allahabad to the great Presidency cities, in its churches, European shops, hotels, and roads so lined with houses that they may be called streets. As might be expected, the native population has greatly increased.

From Allahabad we went by train to Cawnpore, one hundred and thirty miles to the north-west. This place was for many years a large military station, as the kingdom of Oude lay on the other side of the Ganges. It may be well to give a very brief narrative of the terrible events which occurred there, that readers may the better understand what we saw.

[Sidenote: MUTINY AT CAWNPORE.]

On the breaking out of the Mutiny, the English soldiers and residents entrenched themselves in an open plain, which had the solitary advantage of accommodation in barracks, while they left the a.r.s.enal in the hands of the insurgents. The siege commenced on June 6th, directed by Dundhoo Punt, the Nana Sahib as he was called, the adopted son of Bajee Rao, the ex-Peshwa of the Mahrattas, whose castle was ten miles distant. On June 27th, after enduring terrible hardships and privations, our people surrendered on promise of being sent safely to Allahabad. They accordingly made their way to the promised boats; but no sooner had they been reached than they were set on fire, and the Nana in person directed a fusillade on the party. Only four succeeded in escaping, and they did this by swimming. The men were murdered, the women and children, to the number of two hundred, were taken back, were huddled together in crowded rooms, scantily fed on the coa.r.s.est food, and subjected to every indignity. The Nana's army was defeated in several engagements, and was at last utterly overthrown by the army led by General Havelock, in a battle fought at the entrance to Cawnpore. By an order of the Nana, issued by him when fleeing from the place, the women and children were murdered, and their bodies were thrown into a well. Our soldiers arrived to see to their horror the well choked with the victims of Nana's satanic cruelty. Unknown to those whom he was besieging, he had previously, on June 4th, ordered the ma.s.sacre of one hundred and thirty men, women, and children, who had come from Futtyghur.

[Sidenote: GALLANT DEFENCE AND TERRIBLE DEFEAT.]

At Cawnpore we saw much to sadden us to the very core. The thrilling accounts we had read of the atrocious deeds there committed came to our remembrance with a painful reality. All along the river-side, houses, once occupied by officers, lay in ruins as the mutineers had left them.

We observed flowers blooming here and there in the gardens, planted by those who had been so ruthlessly cut down. We visited all the places made memorable by the sad events of 1857. We went to the Sabadha Kothee, as it was called, the house on a slight elevation from which the Nana directed the siege of the entrenched camp. It was well remembered by us as the abode, in 1842, on our first visit to Cawnpore, of a missionary of the Propagation Society, with whom we had much pleasant intercourse.

Within less than half a mile of this house lay the entrenched camp of the English--if a trench three or four feet deep, with a breastwork of earth behind it four or five feet high, deserves the name of an entrenchment. The spot was chosen on account of the barracks, in which our people could shelter themselves against what they expected to be a mere temporary a.s.sault, if an a.s.sault at all was made, as they supposed the mutinous soldiery would leave at once for Delhi, which they would have done had not the Nana stopped them by large pay and larger promises. The barracks speedily became well-nigh uninhabitable under the fire of the enemy. At last they were burnt down, and no shelter remained from the fierce rays of the sun. One could not look on the spot, and consider the weakness of the defenders compared with the strength of the enemy, supplied as they were with the guns and ammunition of our a.r.s.enal, without wondering the defence could have been maintained for a day. The defence was most heroic; extraordinary feats of valour were performed, but at last the besieged were obliged to succ.u.mb from the failure of food and ammunition.

We walked from the entrenchment, which was rapidly disappearing under the rains and heat of the climate, by the route taken by our people to the promised boats, which were set on fire as soon as they reached them.

It was truly a _via dolorosa_, and we walked on it with saddened hearts, musing on the awful sufferings our countrymen had endured. On a little temple close to the ferry at which the boats lay, and on some houses near it, we saw marks of the bullets on the walls.

Since that period--the winter of 1858-59--we have been on several occasions at Cawnpore. The desolation has disappeared. Ruined houses are no longer to be seen. A stranger might pa.s.s through the place without observing anything to remind him of the events of 1857. He would be a very preoccupied or a very stolid person who could pa.s.s through Cawnpore without making it a point to see the monuments erected to commemorate our fallen countrymen. On the site of the entrenched camp a memorial church has been raised, with stained windows and varied devices bearing the names of those who had fought and suffered there. A very handsome monument of marble, surmounted by a statue of the Angel of Peace, with a suitable inscription, has been erected over the well into which the bodies of the women and children were thrown. The ground round it is kept in beautiful order. For many a day visitors to India will look with tearful eyes and sad hearts on these spots sacred to their fallen countrymen.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WELL AT CAWNPORE.]

[Sidenote: THE CAMPAIGN IN OUDE.]

Leaving Cawnpore, we crossed the Ganges and travelled forty miles to Lucknow, the capital of the country of Oude, which was ruled by a feudatory of the Mogul Empire, who had become a feudatory of the British Crown. To him our Government gave the t.i.tle of King. In 1856, by an order from home, the country was taken under our direct rule on account of gross misgovernment, by flagrant and persistent violation of the engagement made with us. The Chief Commissioner in March, 1857, was Sir Henry Lawrence. After staving off the Mutiny successfully for a time, he was obliged in the end of June to concentrate his force in a half-fortified place on a slight elevation, called the Residency, as there the British representative, under the t.i.tle of Resident, and his official subordinates, had their abode and offices. There the English were besieged by a vast body of Sepoys, and by the Talookdars, the Barons of Oude, and their retainers. Sir Henry Lawrence was mortally wounded on July 4th. The siege was maintained till September 25th, when, after a fierce struggle, it was relieved by Havelock and Outram.

They in their turn were besieged, but they were able to maintain their footing till November 19th, when they were finally relieved by Sir Colin Campbell. Outram remained with a force of observation at Alum Bagh, a large garden with a very high wall, outside Lucknow on the Cawnpore road; while the rest held on to Cawnpore. Sir Colin Campbell returned with his army, and took the city on March 6th, 1858. We are told that in the interval it had been fortified in a way which would have done credit to a European power. My narrative will be better understood by these facts being remembered.

As we travelled from Cawnpore to Lucknow we pa.s.sed houses close to the road which still retained the loopholes through which the enemy had fired on our troops. The earthworks hastily raised for temporary shelter still remained. We were reminded at every mile of the fierce resistance our soldiers had to encounter. At Lucknow we remained for a week, and went over all the scenes made memorable by recent events. We paid several visits to the Residency, where our people defended themselves so long and valiantly against thousands of armed men well supplied with ammunition. At every step proofs presented themselves of the desperate struggle maintained with the foe. The houses in the Residency had been so battered and torn by sh.e.l.ls and b.a.l.l.s that scarcely one was habitable before its evacuation, and the ruin was completed when the city was finally taken by Sir Colin Campbell. At the beginning of 1859 the whole place was a ma.s.s of ruin, with here and there a piece of tottering wall, shaken or perforated by heavy shot and ready to come down. The walls still stood, though in a very broken state, of the house in which Sir Henry Lawrence died, and the spot was pointed out to us where he had received his death-wound. A large body of labourers was employed in taking down the ruined walls and levelling the ground. We observed bones which had been dug up by them as they pursued their work.

From the entrance into Lucknow on the Cawnpore road there is a street, two miles in length, leading straight to the Residency. The enemy expected our army to advance by this street, and made provision for its destruction by digging trenches, and lining the houses on both sides with musketeers ready to pour on our soldiers a killing fire. The relieving army, guided by a person who knew Lucknow well, and had at great risk made his way to them at night from the Residency, made a sudden detour to the right, and advanced by a comparatively open route, stoutly but unsuccessfully opposed at almost every step. I had the promise of a guide to take me on foot by this route to the Residency, but on reaching Alum Bagh, the appointed place of meeting, I found no one there. I made my way, however, with very little difficulty by observing the marks of the bullets on the houses along the line traversed. I sometimes lost the trace, but soon recovered it, musing as I went along on the very different circ.u.mstances in which our countrymen a short time previously had gone over that road.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RUINS OF THE RESIDENCY, LUCKNOW.]

We saw other places of interest, such as the Muchee Bhawan, the fort in which our soldiers were previous to the siege; the Kaisar Bagh, an extensive garden, filled with showy, lofty houses, where the King of Oude and his numerous retinue had resided; the Chuttar Manzil, a handsome building where public entertainments were given; the gateway at which the gallant Colonel Neil fell--now called Neil Gate; the Secunder Bagh, a garden with a high wall, where a large body of the enemy was posted, and which was stormed by the 78th Highlanders, who shut up every exit and killed every soul, many of the Sepoys fighting desperately to the last. Two thousand bodies were taken out of the place and buried in the adjoining ground. We observed on the walls the marks of the bullets, and even the indents made by the swords and bayonets, while this carnage was going on.

[Sidenote: GENERAL LA MARTINE'S INSt.i.tUTION.]