At one time the Government imposed a tax on pilgrims to this mela, but it was taken off in 1838 or 1839.
The mela is held below the fort, on the land lying between the Ganges and the Jumna at their point of meeting, on a great stretch of sand, which is covered in the rainy season. In December and January the west wind blows freshly over the place, and as there is incessant movement, soon all present are so covered with dust that they look like millers.
EVANGELISTIC SERVICES.
A gathering like this at Allahabad is always embraced for evangelistic purposes. Missionaries and native brethren are thankful for the opportunity afforded them of preaching the Gospel to many who have come from places to which no missionary has ever gone. The missionaries at Allahabad gladly welcome and hospitably entertain the brethren of other missions who join them at these annual gatherings. Large tents are put up, with the front open towards the road, and there the preachers from morning till evening, preacher succeeding preacher, address the people, while hearers succeed hearers. A few individuals stop a long time, as if rapt up in what they hear, as if they were drinking in every word; others stop a considerable time; while many, after looking on and gaping for a few minutes, hold on their way. Every now and then questions are asked, objections are started, and a discussion ensues. When the questions are in any measure serious and reasonable, much benefit results from such discussion. The interest of the people is quickened, and opportunity is afforded for explaining, defending, and enforcing the truth as it is in Jesus. Sometimes the questioner is neither serious nor reasonable, and then the danger is of the discussion turning into a wrangle, which does more harm than good. Prominent transgressors in this line are the Pundas, specially interested in the mela, who do all in their power to set the people against us. At this first great gathering which I attended—I found it was the case afterwards on similar occasions—there was less mere idle discussion than there is where the missionary carries on his work from day to day. In addition to preaching-stations, there were bookstalls where portions of the Scriptures and Christian tracts and books were disposed of. On to the time of this mela there was a large gratuitous distribution among persons who from their look and manner were deemed suitable recipients; but for many years it has been found best to charge a small price, without adopting a hard and fast line against giving away.
It is very difficult, rather impossible, to estimate the effect produced by evangelistic services on such occasions. They have not been fruitless as to conversion, but if we look simply at results of this kind it must be acknowledged they are very limited. Instances have occurred of persons having been so impressed that they have followed missionaries to places far away from Allahabad; but their courage has failed them, and they have after a short time disappeared. One advantage is secured—the Gospel is kept before the minds of the people, and some knowledge of it is carried to the remotest parts of the land. Books and tracts are taken to places which missionaries have never visited. It cannot be doubted that such services have their part in preparing the people for the new and better state of things which every Christian longs for and expects.
At Allahabad I had an opportunity of observing the peculiarities of a great Hindu mela. The morning was devoted to bathing and the performance of religious rites. As the forenoon came on, the merchants of every class set out their wares in tents erected on sites appointed for them, with their opening, so far as possible, away from the side exposed to the wind. Goods of every description, useful and ornamental, cloth, grain, cooking vessels, trinkets, and sweetmeats, were exhibited to tempt purchasers, and buying and selling went on as vigorously as if the people had come together solely for that end. Crowds were in constant motion, going from place to place to see what could be seen, and stopping where there was any special attraction, or, as happens in our own crowded streets, stopping where a few were incidentally collected. By the afternoon, singers, experts in tricks, and show-people of every description, commenced their operations, and were sure of admiring crowds. The merry-go-rounds were largely patronized. Hour after hour was thus spent.
COOKING AND MERRYMAKING.
A few cooked food early in the day, but the vast majority staved off hunger—in some cases by partaking of cakes reserved from the previous evening meal; the greater number, I believe, by partaking of sweetmeats made with flour, sugar, and melted butter, of which an enormous quantity was offered for sale. As evening came on they scattered themselves over the ground lying between the Ganges and the Jumna, and set to the preparation of their one proper meal for the twenty-four hours. The plain was alight with their fires. Nothing can be simpler than their cooking. They make what they call a choola, an elevation in the shape of a horseshoe of a half-foot or a little more of moistened mud, or stone if they can get it. If the traveller be of a respectable caste, he takes care to make no use of the choolas which former travellers have left. They may have been set up by impure hands, and so he makes one for himself. It is convenient to have two such choolas, that they may put on the one a small pot with rice or dal, a kind of pea, in it, and on the other a girdle for bannocks of unleavened dough. Cooking is, of course, largely women's work, but men are as expert at it as women, and are continually seen preparing their meal. I have never travelled with a native who seemed to think he was called to an unusual or unpleasant work, when required to cook his food. All he needs is a couple of small cooking vessels, which he carries with him, a little fuel, good water, meal, and a spot on which he may set up his humble hearth. I have seen this work done by pundits, learned men, who showed no indication of shrinking from it as if it trenched on their dignity. Indeed the pundit in a party that has few facilities for cooking has, as I remember well in one instance, this honour conferred on him on account of his caste being higher than that of those who are with him. All of every caste can eat what he has prepared, but he helps himself first, and eats apart.
To return to the mela. The evening is well advanced before the repast is over. We might suppose that after the stir of the day all would be ready for sleep, and no doubt many lie down and sleep soundly; but quite a number are too eager for the enjoyment of the fair to give themselves to rest. Singing, drumming, and boisterous mirth go on till the small hours of the morning, as I have known to my unpleasant experience—not at Allahabad, but elsewhere when I have been in their close neighhourhood.
How do the vast multitudes who attend a mela, such as that of Allahabad, dispose of themselves at night? Their arrangements are of the simplest kind. Many wrap themselves in their sheet or blanket, if they have one, and lie down on the ground without any idea they are enduring hardship. Others rig out a temporary tent with sticks and a blanket over it, creep under this, and deem themselves luxuriously accommodated. This gathering at Allahabad is in the cold weather, and if the nights be very cold, as they sometimes are at that season, no doubt many suffer severely. Every now and then heavy rain falls, and then, as may be supposed, the suffering is extreme. Sanitary precautions are of the utmost importance where such vast crowds meet and remain together for days, and these are taken by the authorities. They cannot, however, provide against suffering caused by bad weather. Occasionally cholera breaks out, and then the scenes witnessed are appalling. At the mela of 1840 the weather was good, and there was no indication of disease among the people. Some years afterwards we were travelling towards Allahabad at an early period of the mela, and met crowds fleeing from it on account of the outbreak of cholera. Here and there we saw corpses at the side of the road, occasionally without one person near, at other times with a weeping group around, who were preparing to carry off the body to some rivulet to have it burnt, or, as it often happens, to have it scorched, and then left to be devoured by jackals and vultures. Some had held on their way with weary limbs till the fell disease seized them, and then they succumbed, lay down, and died. We remember stopping where a young man was dying, with two or three sorrowful ones around him. We spoke to him, but got no reply. His glazed eye told he was beyond all human help.