Benares, December 26th: Benares is the sacred city of India, and the river Ganges with the ghats is the point where thousands upon thousands of worshippers congregate, coming from every point where Hinduism prevails. We had anticipated revolting scenes, and were not disappointed, as the superstition of the devotees, the grasping conduct of the priests, and the disgusting practices in the name of so-termed religion all contributed to that end. We arrived during the afternoon of December 26th, going to the Hôtel de Paris. A drive was instantly proposed, and we were taken to the Maharaja's palace, with grounds laid out conventionally, the trees and shrubs representing peacocks and animals of different kinds. The palace was spacious but tawdrily furnished; it is noteworthy as being the home to which the Maharaja and his family repair whenever they feel the approach of death; there is a superstition among the Hindus that death must occur on the north bank of the sacred river Ganges, in order to become a monkey after death (monkeys are considered sacred); for if the demise occurs on the opposite side of the Ganges, one would surely become a donkey.
We next turned toward the celebrated Monkey Temple, a pretentious but inartistic structure of red sandstone, presided over by the monster wife of Siva, the Goddess Kali, who is seated on an interior shrine and almost terrifies the beholder by her demoniacal smile, her neck being wreathed with skulls. The Goddess of Blood demands a daily sacrifice, usually a goat and sometimes even a buffalo. At least twenty terrible-looking priests were in attendance upon her when we arrived and were ready to slay the inoffensive goat if money was forthcoming. We, however, declined to witness such a spectacle. Monkeys, disgustingly old and fat, were everywhere, and filled large trees surrounding the temple, two hundred at least being visible. Beggars, mendicants, and priests were abundantly in evidence.
In an attempt to throw some small coins to some children, I was nearly crushed, the crowd closing around me and separating me from my party, until a tall Brahman priest with a huge stick checked the mob and I escaped, to be admonished by the Director of the party, who declared that I must never repeat the experiment, however much my sympathies might be drawn upon by the scenes that impressed me.
