THREE SATĪS AND A MANDAP NEAR GHAZIPŪR.

Lugāoed close to a small and very pretty mandap or Hindū temple. I went up to see it; the Brahmān opened the door, and showed me his idols with much pleasure. They consisted of Seeta, Rām, and Lutchman, painted red, and decked with bits of gold and silver tinsel, and pieces of coloured cloth. Hūnoomān was displayed on the wall painted red, and decked also with red linen. The Brahmān gave me a ball of sweetmeat, which he said was the usual offering at the shrine. Two fine peepul-trees, which had been planted together, are on the high bank above the temple, and within their shade are three satīs, built of stone, of octagonal form, and surmounted by a dome: the point of the dome is ornamented with a kalsā formed like a crown with a hole in the centre, and on each of its points or horns, on certain days, a lighted lamp is placed. The cenotaph is hollow below; and there is a little arch, through which the relatives also on particular days place a small lamp, and offerings of flowers within the cavity of the little building, and in the same place the two sīr are deposited. The kalsās differ in form from those at Barrah; and the satīs are also of higher caste, being of stone and well built. If the moon rise in time, I will sketch the spot, but I am very much fatigued, and my head aches, not only from exposure to the sun, but from a blow I received upon it from the tracking rope this morning. The insects do not molest us now at night, with the exception of the musquitoes, which are very troublesome.

On the rising of the moon I went on shore to take the sketch, and was attracted by what appeared to be the figure of a man watching from under a tree on a high cliff. On going up to it I found a satī, which had fallen to ruin; the remains were whitewashed, and a large kalsā had been placed on the top, which being also whitewashed, at a distance produced the deception. See fig. 2, which is a sketch of this kalsā; the satī herself, partially wrapped in her sarī, is seated upon it; it is adorned with points, and made of mud. I brought the kalsā away with me; it will be replaced by the kumhār, or potter of the village, whose duty it is to restore all kalsās. On the other side of the old tree was another satī mound, and small lotās, earthen drinking vessels, were hung around the tree to receive the offerings of the devout. I had the curiosity to put my hand into one of them, and found one betel-nut which had been placed there as an offering. Peeping over a high bank, I saw an open space of ground, on which were some fine trees, and I could scarcely believe the number of mounds that met my eye were those of victimized women. By a little détour I found the entrance to this place of cenotaphs, and was shocked on counting eight-and-twenty satīs. I was alone; had a Hindū been with me, he would have made salām to each of them.

One was large and somewhat in the shape of a grave, after the form of the satī of the Brahmān at Barrah. The others were of various forms; the richer ones were of stone, of an octagonal shape, and surmounted by a dome; some were so small and low, they were not higher than one foot from the earth, like a little ant hill, but ornamented with a kalsā, which quite covered the little mound. Those of stone were from six to eight feet high, and of various forms. There is a hollow space within the satī, into which, through the little arch, the offerings are placed; and there also are deposited the two sīr, as they call them, which are made of stone, and are like a cannon ball split in halves. See [the plate of the kalsās], fig. 1. One very old satī tomb, in ruins, stood on the edge of the high cliff above the river, shaded by a clump of bamboos. The spot interested me extremely. It is very horrible to see how the weaker are imposed upon; and it is the same all over the world, civilized or uncivilized—perhaps some of these young married women, from eleven to twenty years of age, were burnt alive, in all the freshness of youth; it may be with the corpse of some decrepit sickly old wretch to whom their parents had given them in marriage.

The laws of England relative to married women, and the state of slavery to which those laws degrade them, render the lives of some few in the higher, and of thousands in the lower ranks of life, one perpetual satī, or burning of the heart, from which they have no refuge but the grave, or the cap of liberty,—i.e. the widow’s, and either is a sad consolation.

KULSAS.

Sketched on the spot and on Stone by ‎‏فاني پارکس‏‎

“It is this passive state of suffering which is most difficult to endure, and which it is generally the fate of women to experience. It is too commonly their lot to be deceived into a belief, that as they are the gentler sex, so they ought to be the weakest. Alas, it is far otherwise; the soldier covered with wounds of glory, the mariner warring with the elements, the sage consuming his strength with the midnight oil, or the bigot wearing life away with fanatical zeal in false devotion, require not the unshrinking firmness, the never-failing patience, the unbending fortitude which is expected from almost every woman.”

The river has encroached so much upon the cliff, and so much ground has fallen in, that, probably, the place of the satīs was of much larger extent; next year, most likely, those that are now tottering on the edge of the cliff will fall into the depth below. From this place I returned to the mandap, and sketched the satīs I had first seen. Their kalsās had figures upon them, meant to represent the husband and wife; I brought three of these ornaments away,—they have received all the honours; their foreheads have been marked with red paint, lamps have been lighted and placed upon their points, and offerings have been laid before them. Pretty well fagged with my moonlight expedition, I returned to the boats and slept quietly,—a great blessing.

THE KALSĀS.

Fig. 1. The two sīr.

2. A kalsā taken from under an old tree on the banks of the Ganges, in front of the temple, in the sketch of “[Three Satīs and a Mandap near Ghazipūr].”

3. A kalsā from the satī mound of the Kyiatt at Barrah.

4 and 5. These kalsās were taken from the satī ground at Ghazipūr, where there were twenty-eight cenotaphs, and which was only a short distance from the three satīs represented in the other plate. On both of them are curious representations of the husband and wife sitting side by side.

6. This kalsā differs from the rest, being hollow at the top, and the upper part of the dome of the cenotaph passed through it; on the points of its horns, the Brahmān said, lights were placed on particular days. It was taken off the top of the satī in the foreground of the sketch, over which two lotas are suspended to receive the offerings of the pious. Each of these kalsās had four horns; they were much damaged by time, and some of the horns were broken off; they were formed of coarse red pottery.

7. The topī-wālā kalsā from Allahabad,—see [Vol. I. p. 96].

8. The kalsā from a satī by the temple of Bhawanī Alopee Bāgh, Allahabad,—[Vol. I. p. 96].

9. The crescent and half-moon of the above kalsā.

10. The kalsā without the points, to show the manner in which it is made. It is the duty of the kumhārs, or potters of the village, to place new kalsās as the old ones are broken, or decay, or are taken away.

30th.—Quitted the satī ground, and came up to the Cantonment ghāt just below the tomb of the Marquis Cornwallis. We are now in the north-western provinces, in which my husband holds his appointment under the Lieutenant-Governor of Agra, and have announced our arrival in due form.

The Civil and Military station of Ghazipūr is one hundred and nineteen miles above Dinapūr, or thirty-one miles above Buxar on the left bank of the river. The native town is built on precipices; the European inhabitants reside on a large plain about the centre of the station; the cantonments form the upper part, and the European hospital is at the other extreme. Between the Civil and Military lines are the chapel and the tomb. It is noted for its opium manufactory, and Government stud establishment, where horses can be purchased, as also for its rose-water, atr of roses, and other perfumed oils. Provisions of all sorts may be purchased here, also European articles and millinery. Its distance from Calcutta, viâ Bhagirathī, is six hundred and twenty-seven miles, viâ Sunderbunds nine hundred and fifteen, and by land four hundred and thirty-one. The dāk runs in four days—steamer’s passage, from seventeen to twenty days: they remain here for passengers, cargo, and coal. Passengers for Ghoruckpūr should land here. This is the lower extreme of the North-Western Provinces, or Agra Presidency, and is a great place of trade; it is also the lowest station for the Agra flat-boats. Kankarī banks, a sort of stony gravel, commence here, and run hence upwards. At this station we purchased game; a man came to our boats, and offered two wild geese and three wild ducks for sale; he carried a long native matchlock, and led a cow by a string; this cow he used as a stalking horse, the birds being so shy it would otherwise be impossible to get within shot distance.

Dec. 1st.—A good day, having had but little contrary wind; lugāoed off Booraneepūr. On the edge of the high cliff stood a little temple and a large peepul-tree, very picturesque, which induced me to climb the rough kankarī bank, and to find my way to the temple through a deserted village; there were a great number of ruined huts, and very few inhabitants; the village dogs barked most fiercely at a distance, and skulked away at my approach. This is the fall of the leaf, and the large peepul-tree was nearly leafless, which showed off its long and peculiar branches; one branch, at the height of about eight feet from the ground, stretched out in a horizontal direction to the length of sixty feet: although it is now winter for the peepul, in three weeks more it will be covered with fresh green leaves. At the foot of the tree was a large satī mound of mud; it was so much neglected that no pious hand had placed even a kalsā on the top, and not a flower had been offered there, nor a lamp burned in pūja. A little Hindoo temple of octagonal form stood on the extreme edge of the cliff, some fragments of idols were placed against its side; no Brahmān was there, and the place looked cold and desolate; a young banyan tree formed the background, and the Ganges spread its broad waters to the far horizon.

The “Directory” says,—“Eight miles above Ghazipūr is the dangerous kankār reef that strikes directly across the river. Twenty-three miles above Ghazipūr is Chochookpore stone ghāt and temple, noted for the numerous monkeys that resort there. Two miles above Chochookpore, on the right bank of the river, is the sunken rock, opposite to a palm-tree just below Sanotie.” All the difficulties and dangers, monkeys and all, we have passed to-day, without being conscious of their existence; the monkeys and temples I was sorry I did not see,—we passed without observing them. The river has been very uninteresting, nothing to look at, and very few vessels: moored on a most solitary and insulated sandbank.

“Thirty miles above Ghazipūr by Kucharee, on the left bank, is a difficult channel with a dangerous sunken reef. Six miles above it is Seydpūr, a large native town, with a tahsīldār and a dārogha: and two miles above Seydpūr is the junction of the Goomtie river, that goes up to Lucnow, said to be a very intricate and rocky stream, too shallow for the smallest boats in the dry season. The Ganges, from above Kucharee reef, past Seydpūr, up to the Goomtie, a distance of eight miles, is a very difficult passage, with various bad patches of kankar rock, on which native boats and budgerows split instantaneously.

“Five miles above the Goomtie is Chandroutī, with a white temple. In mid-channel is a very dangerous pakka platform, on kankar, with the ruins of an old temple on it, and no passable channel on its north-west or Zinhore side, and very dangerous for downward-bound boats, as the current sets directly upon it.” At Seydpūr is a very elaborately carved mandap or Hindū temple, of elegant form.