After passing a very pleasant week in Madras, we sailed at daylight, on the 11th of January, in the P. and O. steamship Teheran, for Calcutta, through the Bay of Bengal, a five days' voyage. Soon after leaving the roadstead of Madras there was pointed out to us on the port bow the low lying coast of Orissa, India, where the famine of 1866 carried off one million of souls. As we drew northward a decided difference in the temperature was realized, and was most agreeable; the thermometer showing 70° at Calcutta, in place of 90° at Madras, so that portions of clothing, discarded when we landed at Ceylon, were now resumed. Since entering these southern waters we had remarked the entire absence of sea-gulls, so ever-present on the Atlantic and North Pacific; but the abundance of Mother Carey's Chickens, as the little petrel is called, made up for the absence of the larger birds. It is swallow-like in both its appearance and manner of flight, and though web-footed is rarely seen to light on the water. It flies very close to the surface of the sea, frequently dipping for food; but never quite losing its power of wing, or at least so it appeared to us. Sailors, who are a proverbially superstitious race, seriously object to passengers at sea who attempt to catch the petrel with hooks baited with food and floated on the water, or by any other means, contending that ill-luck will follow their capture.
The ocean currents along the coast of Coromandel are marked and curious, requiring special care in navigation. Unless observations can be had by aid of the sun at noon-day, no ship is sure of her position; dead reckoning will not answer here. We were reminded in these waters of other currents: the Gulf Stream, for instance, on our own shore, finds its rise in the tropics, say in the Caribbean Sea and Gulf of Mexico, moves northeast along the American coast, gets a cant on the banks of Newfoundland, and after crossing the Atlantic, spends its force on the shores of Western Europe. The Japan Current, as it is called by seamen, originates in the Indian Ocean, moves northward along the eastern shore of Asia, and is divided by the Aleutian Islands and the Alaska Peninsula, one branch going to the Arctic Ocean, and the other along the west coast of America into the South Pacific. These details become very interesting to the traveler when passing long weeks upon the ocean, observing how the vessel in which he sails is either favored or retarded by these known forces.
Our course was due north until we anchored at the mouth of the Hoogly River to await a favorable tide, finally arriving at Calcutta on the evening of the 15th of January. The intricate navigation of the Hoogly, with its treacherous sands and ever-shifting shoals, is conducted by a pilot system especially organized by government, and is composed exclusively of Englishmen. No vessel can hope to ascend the river safely without being in charge of one of these pilots. We saw a large iron steamship, which was a quarter of a mile ahead of the Teheran, in her attempt to make the mouth of the Hoogly, caught by an adverse current, through what seemed to be a very trifling miscalculation, and she was cast aground as quickly as though blown on a lee shore by a tornado. We passed her as we went in, with both her anchors out, adopting various nautical expedients to get afloat. As the accident occurred on a rising tide, we have no doubt that she finally got free from her dangerous position.
Calcutta is the political capital of India, but since the opening of the Suez Canal, Bombay rivals it in all commercial respects. It was rather surprising to find so poor a hotel as the "Great Eastern" proved to be. It is calculated to receive within its walls at least one hundred to one hundred and fifty guests, and yet does not present the ordinary domestic comforts to be found in an American country tavern. A good hotel is a prime necessity to any city, and is of more importance to the interests of the inhabitants at large, and to its trades-people especially, than is generally realized. We were told by our banker and others that the complaint in this matter was so general that a company was forming to give to the city a first-class hotel on the American system, a consummation devoutly to be wished. At present tourists visiting Calcutta would be prompted, as we were, to abbreviate their stay in the city, solely for want of a good temporary home.
Calcutta is a very interesting city, very Indian, notwithstanding so many Europeans live here and it has so long been under English rule; but it is by no means entitled to the name so often given to it, the "City of Palaces." It is quite modern, having no remains of antiquity in or about it, and in 1686 was but a mud village. As seen from the Hoogly when one first lands, it has a strong array of fine public buildings; but a passage of a few rods, diverging from the main thoroughfare, brings the visitor upon the dirty streets, the mean and narrow houses, and general filth of the native population. The city is strongly individualized, and it may be remarked that of all the capitals thus far visited no two are alike, or strongly resemble each other. All differ radically in manners and customs, modes of conveyance, dress, architecture, and local color. We visited some of the palaces of the native princes, which show in what extravagant style they formerly lived, until compelled to come under English control. Many of these structures were partially denuded, and none pretended to be kept up to their former standard.
The National Museum is an institution of great importance, rich in its various specimens of Hindoo curiosities, and also in the possession of an extensive zoölogical and mineralogical collection, the whole contained in a noble building of modern construction. The city has also a number of literary, scientific, and charitable institutions, libraries, social and political clubs, hospitals, and the like. The Government House is a fine specimen of architecture, and is built around an open square ornamented like a garden, but really little less than a citadel if necessity should require it to assume that form. Owing to the nature of England's possession here, Government House is under semi-military organization, always ready to meet a popular uprising, and containing powerful means of defense. The zoölogical garden is almost a rival to that of London, and in some respects is superior to it. The botanical garden, located about three miles from the city proper, is equally remarkable for its size and comprehensive character. The good taste and appreciation which has gathered here so large and complete a public garden is worthy of all praise.
In this garden there is an enormous banyan-tree, one of the largest in the world, and the original of the picture of the school-books. The leaves are very similar to those of the poplar, and are four or five inches long. Its age is incalculable, being a tree of very slow growth, and continually multiplying itself, so that it may be said to live forever. There is one remarkable avenue of Palmyra palms in these grounds, which we have never seen excelled in beauty of effect even in the plantation avenues of Cuba, where the family of the palm form the pride of the coffee planters. Here was also to be seen specimens of the sacred bo-tree and the camphor-tree of great size; one large conservatory was devoted solely to the cultivation of ferns, which the gardener said contained twenty thousand varieties, from the size of an infant's hand to tall trees.
The various shades of green in this conservatory were no less remarkable than the wonderful variety of form, all being arranged in the most effective manner. The tall tree ferns seemed ready to burst through the glass roof, and were ornamented with little hanging baskets on their branches, containing choice and delicate specimens, while at their base was a rockery over which played a tiny fountain, causing the exquisitely pinnated feathery fronds of the ferns to tremble incessantly. In another part was a little patch of mossy meadow, and again there were decaying logs out of which sprang various ferns in wild luxuriance, as one has seen them in deeply-shaded, low-lying woods. The maiden-hair fern was here seen ranging from leaves as large as one's thumb-nail to a species with leaves the size of pin-heads. There was a charming harmony in the whole arrangement; nothing seemed abrupt, each effect blended gracefully with those surrounding it, like well-balanced colors in an oil painting.
The King of Oude's palace, on the opposite side of the river, will well pay the traveler for a visit. The old king has a reputation of being a little out of his head, or, as the Scotch say, has a bee in his bonnet; at any rate, he is very queer, very fat, and very independent, with his allowance of half a million dollars per annum from the English government who dethroned him, at which time he was King of Oude, one of the richest provinces of India, Lucknow being the capital. He is said to be still a rebel at heart, and was a strong supporter of the mutiny. He is really a sort of state's prisoner in his own palace at Garden Reach, as the place is called, where he has a whole menagerie of animals, and is especially fond of tigers, of which he keeps over twenty in stout cages. He has also a large and remarkable collection of snakes, all Indian, and "millions" of pigeons. He pays fabulous prices for any bird or animal to which he takes a fancy, and is, of course, duly victimized by cunning dealers. He is a fanatic in religious observances, and confines himself within the palace walls, from one year's end to another, with his tigers, snakes, pigeons, priests, and women. He permits tourists to visit his grounds, but will himself see no one. It would not seem that he owes any affection to the English, who, under some specious pretense, seized his private property, including his valuable jewels, and sold them for the benefit of Queen Victoria's treasury. As was said by the British press at the time, the English had no more right to those precious stones and private property than they had to the crown diamonds of Russia.