THE SNAKE CHARMERS.
The group of natives seated on the ground are a particular cast of Hindūs, who profess to charm serpents, to reduce them to subjection, and to prevent their poison from proving fatal. They roam about the country, carrying a boa constrictor in a basket, which they twine around their necks and display to the passers by. They have also a number of the cobra di capello, which, being placed on the ground, rear themselves up, and, spreading out their hoods, sway themselves about in a fashion which the men call dancing, accompanied by the noise of a little hand-drum. The snake charmers strike the reptiles with their hands, and the snakes bite them repeatedly on their hands as well as on their arms, bringing blood at every bite: although the venomous fangs have been carefully removed, the bite itself must be disagreeable; nevertheless the natives appear not to mind it in the least. At the conclusion of the tamāshā (fun), they catch the cobras and cram them all into gharās (earthen vessels), and carry the boas off in a basket. The snake charmers remind us of the text, “They are like the deaf adder, that stoppeth her ear; which will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely.” (Psalm lviii. 4, 5.)
The two men on the left are pilgrims with holy water. In the cold season of the year, Hindūs from all parts of Upper India, perform pilgrimages to the sacred places on the Ganges: although the stream throughout is considered holy, there are parts of peculiar sanctity, such as Hurdwar, Benares, Allahabad, &c. The roads swarm with devotees; they proceed in large groups, generally well dressed, carrying on their shoulders a large bamboo, supporting at each end a covered basket, containing small stumpy bottles of the thinnest green glass, having long necks: they are filled with Ganges water at the sacred places, and sealed with the seal of the Brahman. These people travel all over the country, selling the sacred water at a high price at the distant stations. Some of the bottles contain a quart; others are not above two inches high; they are of all sizes, and the price varies accordingly. The salutation of these people on passing is, “Ram ram,” or “Bom bom Mahadēo,”—a pilgrim of this class is called a Kanwar-wālā. The men come for this water to place it in their houses for religious and medicinal uses, and sometimes perform a journey on the occasion of five or six months; it is also used in the English courts of justice, in administering an oath to an Hindū. The frames in which the baskets are carried are decorated with feathers of the sacred peacock and small red flags; and every party appears to have one amongst them more ornamented than the rest, with a large arched cover, and numerous bells attached to it.
A jumna-pār goat, so called because these goats are bred on the other side the Junma, is lying on the ground—they are of enormous size, with very broad, long, thin, and silky ears, as soft as velvet. These animals are better adapted for marching than the small Bengalī goat; but unless they can go into the jangal and browse, they become thin and lose their milk.
On the opposite side of the river is the Jellinghy flat and her steamer, returning from Allahabad to Calcutta. The steamer herself is not the vessel in which passengers live; but attached to, and towed by her, is a vessel as large as the steamer herself, called a flat, built expressly to convey passengers and government treasure. It is divided into cabins, with one large cabin in the centre, in which the passengers dine together. The deck is covered with an awning.
The view on the left of the native vessel exemplifies the structure of the ghāts on the water’s edge. The continuity of the line of steps is interrupted by hundreds of stone piers of various forms, which may be classed under three distinct heads: some are merely intended to give solidity to the masonry; others are built for the accommodation of the ghātiyās (ghāt attendants), and gangā-putras (sons of the Ganges), who enjoy hereditary possession of most of the ground between high and low water mark, and whose ancestors have resided on the spot from time immemorial in hereditary attendance upon pilgrims; the third sort consists of mut’hs or small temples, erected at the expense of pilgrims and others: they generally have a flat roof, which serves the ghātiyā as a chabūtāra or terrace to sit and converse upon. The large chatrs, or umbrellas, so numerous on the ghāts, are fixtures, to protect the people from the intense heat of the sun in India.
On the river’s edge are seen one or two murhīs—chambers into which the sick are removed when at the point of death, that their sins, to the last moment of existence, may be washed away by the holy stream.
In the midst of hundreds and hundreds of temples and ghāts, piled one above another on the high cliff, or rising out of the Ganges, the mind is perfectly bewildered: it turns from beauty to beauty, anxious to preserve the memory of each; and the sketcher throws down the pencil in despair. Each ghāt presents a study: the intricate architecture, the elaborate workmanship, the elegance and lightness of form, and the picturesque groups of natives that crowd to their devotions, form as fine a subject for a picture as an artist could select.
How soon Benares, or rather the glory of Benares—its picturesque beauty—will be no more! Since the year 1836 many ghāts and temples have sunk, undermined by the rapid stream which now sets full upon the most beautiful cluster of the temples on its banks: some have been engulphed, some are falling; and ere long, if the Ganges encroach at an equal rate, but little will remain of the glory of the most holy of the Hindū cities.
In the rains, some of the temples are submerged to the cornice; many Hindūs, notwithstanding, are bold enough to swim through an impetuous current, and to dive under the porch and doorway, for the honour of continuing their customary worship despite of perils and personal inconvenience.