Not far from Buxar we passed the point of junction between the river Kurumnassa and the Ganges. The former stream is by good Hindoos held accursed, so that to touch its water is to them pollution. This reputation, however, would seem to be of modern date,—namely, October 23, 1764, when the forces of Mir Cossim were defeated by those under Major Munro;[116] pursued by them to that river, in which many of them perished. It was a similar occurrence in 1826 on the part of the Ashantees at Acromanté that gave to that place in Guinea the name of “accursed,” by which it was known during my period of service there.
In some respects our river voyage was pleasant; the cool dry air, the incidents of each day including walks on shore, the peculiarities of village life along the banks, the “fleets” and single craft we met, became, in turn, sources of interest to us. As this the dry season advanced, the size of the once mighty stream diminished, shoals became numerous, boats ran aground, delay and other inconvenience the consequences. On one such occasion several recruits from the particular boat concerned, started away clandestinely in the shallow water to indulge in the luxury of a river bath. Suddenly a scream was heard; two of their number disappeared; whether engulphed in a quicksand, or carried away by a crocodile, no one could tell.
Our river journey ended at Allahabad. Thence our progress was to be by march along the Grand Trunk Road. A short halt was permitted to enable officers to purchase such camp equipment and stores as pecuniary means were equal to. Early in December we marched out of the—to me—familiar place. Nine days thereafter, arrived at Cawnpore, the terrible story in connection with which was in the not distant future. Here my wife had her first experience of one of those violent whirlwind storms whose distinctive name is taken from the locality;[117] her surprise great on seeing some tents, articles of clothing, etc., drawn up and disappearing in the meteor.
At Kullianpore I found my way into the enclosure of a Hindoo temple. Great was my surprise at the offer of hospitality by the priests connected with it, they being in the act of partaking of a meal as I entered, the particular dish called “phillouree.” Of it accordingly I partook; but the incident seemed to indicate that then at least my hosts entertained no religious horror against the European.
Arrived at Meerut, the Overland Express brought news that “Louis Napoleon having the army on his side has carried all before him, dissolved the ministry and courts of law; has thrown himself on the people, and intimated his readiness to be designated by any title they may decide upon giving him.” The next act in the drama so announced was soon to come.
Deobund was soon reached. There took place, in 1827, the last suttee permitted under public sanction. Since that date the practice has been officially suppressed, though it has been stated that isolated instances have clandestinely occurred. On the former suttee ground stood in its centre a temple; a series of small minarets of peculiar device indicate spots on which immolation of widows had taken place. The priests readily admitted us to the threshold of the shrine, but, unlike their brethren already mentioned, offered no food. In the neighbouring grove, numerous baboons—representatives of Humayon, the monkey god—chattered and made grimaces at us.
At Saharunpore a visit was paid to the Botanic Gardens. The excellence of their arrangement and management seemed to merit the eulogies bestowed upon them, a centre as they are from which plants are distributed throughout India, and to various European countries. The process of acclimatization was particularly interesting; so also was the care with which plants of temperate climates were being arranged and packed for dispatch to hill sanatoria in the Himalayas, there to remain throughout the coming hot season. It was a somewhat strange thing to see a daisy being thus nursed.
At Jugadree the detachment, its stores and equipment, crossed the Jumna, there so divided by shoals and islands as in effect to be four different rivers. Across the first the men waded at an hour so early that dawn had not appeared; the second and third were passed by means of bridges of boats such as are common on Indian rivers; over the fourth a bridge had been erected, so elegant in construction as to claim general admiration. Through its arches rushed currents of sparkling water, in the eddies and shallower parts of which were seen fish rising to flies; along the banks grew willow, acacia, and wild fig trees, the adjoining fields rich with well-irrigated crops of wheat. In the far distance rose above the haze of morning the snowy peaks of Himalayah.
Arrived at Umballah, headquarters of the Sirhind Division, a short halt was made, according to the custom of the time, for the double purpose of repairing equipage and exchanging draught animals where necessary. According also to the custom of the time, some of our number were invited to partake of friendly hospitality by officers stationed there.
Continuing, northward from Umballah were seen ruined remains of pillars raised by order of Jehangir[118] to mark the halting places of Noor Jehan, otherwise Noor Mahal, on her journey from Delhi to Lahore. Those remains seemed to occur at intervals of six to eight miles, representing the length of each daily journey of that Chère Reine.