What Mr. Johnson states respecting the injuries done to ships by the bore, is at times verified, but they are rarely worthy of notice: if a vessel be properly secured, the bore will have little effect on her safety, though the swell may cause her to pitch rather deep for a while. During the rainy season there is no bore; which is to be accounted for by the tide being so weakened at its entrance into the narrows near Fultah, as not to be competent to form such a wave as precedes it at other seasons; but, in exchange for this, a violent eddy, and great agitation of the waters, takes place between Diamond-Harbour and that place. It has been several times my lot, when proceeding with the last of the tide from Barrackpore to Calcutta, to meet the bore, generally near Chitpore; but, as its approach was indicated by the putting off of all the small craft from that shore, along which it invariably pursued its course, and to remain near which would be dangerous, my boat-men always followed the example, and kept along the centre; where, though we were tossed about famously, no danger existed. Once, indeed, in turning Sulky Point, in a sailing boat, I was obliged to dash through the bore, which I did not suppose to be so near, notwithstanding the dingies, &c., were putting out. The surf assuredly appeared awful, but we mounted over it, stem on, without difficulty, and speedily recovered from a certain pallid complexion which had insensibly crept over our countenances, as we approached the roaring waters. From what has been said, it must be evident that the bore travels at the same rate as the incipient spring-tide, the velocity of which is different in various parts, but may be taken at an average of full twenty miles within the hour. Notwithstanding this rapidity, vessels, such as budjrows, and other craft, intended for pleasure, or for burthen, ordinarily ride safe at anchor; sustaining no injury from the bore, though they may perhaps drag their anchors a few yards. But, to insure this security, care must be taken that the broadside should not be exposed; else there will be great danger of over-setting: this danger is not unfrequent, owing to the manjies and dandies (boatmen) neglecting, especially during the night, to swing the stern round, either by means of a spring, or a small hawser, or by luggies (bamboo-poles); so that the vessel’s head may meet the bore in its direct course.
Those who are anxious to make the best of their way, should not delay putting off until the tide may have fairly set in, but ought to be out in the stream just as the bore is ranging along the bank, so that they may receive the first impulse, which is prodigiously forcible, and endeavor, by the exertions of their boatmen, to keep up, as much as may be practicable, with the leading waters. It is wonderful how great a difference this sometimes makes in the start from Calcutta! Sometimes a budjrow may, by this precaution, reach beyond Bandel, and nearly to the ultimatum of the tide’s way, after which, the current is invariably in opposition, at various rates, according to the season of the year. During the dry season, which includes from the end of October to the middle of June, though sometimes the rains are of greater duration, or set in earlier, the Hoogly river is nearly in a state of rest above Nia-serai; but, during the rains, and especially about August and September, not only the beds of the rivers, but the country around, present a formidable body of water. Within the banks, the current may average from four to eight miles an hour, according to localities, but what is called ‘the inundation,’ rarely exceeds half a mile; and, I believe, never moves at a full mile within that time.
In this, due allowance must be made whether the waters are rising, or falling: in the former instance, they will become nearly stationary until they may overflow where nearest the sea, and thus obtain a vent; in the latter case, such parts as may be near to great rivers, then subsiding within their banks, must be greatly accelerated.
As the parched soil of Egypt is refreshed by the overflowing of the Nile, so do the waters of the Ganges, by their annual expansion and abundance, renew the fertility of many millions of acres, and restore the blessings of health to those industrious and peaceable peasantry inhabiting that flat country through which they majestically wind their course.
At Calcutta, and Dacca, each of which is about seventy miles from the sea, not only is the water unpalatable, from its saline impregnation, but even the sand, taken from the beds of the rivers, is found to retain so much moisture, notwithstanding the heat of the climate, as to disqualify it from mixture in the cements used for building, but especially for making tarrases, known to us here under the designation of grist floors.
The great tank at Calcutta, which occupies a space of about ten acres, is not less than two hundred yards from the river. The soil is generally a rich sandy loam near the surface, but becomes rather looser, and inclinable to a fine gravel, after digging about ten feet. The tank may be sixty feet from the top of its banks, (which are level with the streets,) to its bottom; and the river is from four to seven fathoms deep opposite its site. We should conclude that such a distance would secure the waters of the tank from becoming brackish; but the soil favors the communication with the river, and, during the hot season, occasions the tank to be so strongly impregnated as to be unfit for either culinary purposes, or for washing. What is more remarkable, the wells in the different out-works of Fort-William, some of which are four or five hundred yards from the river, partake equally of the moisture: so much, indeed, as to have caused Government to be at a great expence in forming an immense reservoir, (to be filled, if required, by rain water,) occupying the whole of one of the bastions.
It should be here noticed, that, during the rainy season, the rivers are full up to their banks, and run with such force, often six or eight miles in the hour, as to occasion the tide to be little felt, either at Calcutta, or at Dacca; consequently, the whole of the water, both of the rivers, and of the tanks and wells, becomes fresh and pure. On the other hand, during the hot months, viz. March, April, May, and part of June, when, except during a north-wester, or squall incident to the season, not a drop of rain is to be expected, the waters are every where proportionably low; and, as the tides come up with extreme force, we must conclude the portion of sea-water to be very considerable. Such is the fact; for those who visit either Calcutta, or Dacca, at that season, and who drink even of the tank-water, are sure to feel its cathartic effects, and, eventually, to suffer under a very troublesome kind of itch. At Dacca, where the air is more saline, all visitors undergo the penance of a copious eruption: some of the old residents have a return of it every hot season; although they may be extremely careful never to touch river water, but, like the inhabitants of Calcutta, allot a spacious godown to the reception of immense jars of earthen ware, which, being placed side by side, in close rows, are successively filled by the aub-dar, or servant whose business is confined to the care, and to the cooling, of water for table expenditure. The water thus preserved is caught in large vessels, placed under the several spouts that conduct it thereto, during heavy falls of rain; the quantity varies according to the consumption, but we may ordinarily compute that of a family at Calcutta to amount to full sixty or seventy hogsheads within the year. In the course of a few weeks, each vessel will be found to contain innumerable larvæ, occasioned by musquitoes, and other insects, and which would, in a certain time, taint the fluid. It is therefore customary to strain the whole so soon as the larvæ are discovered, and afterwards to plunge into each jar an immense mass of iron, made red-hot; whereby whatever animalculæ may have escaped through the strainer may be destroyed. This being done, some alum is dissolved in water, and a sufficient quantity put into each vessel to fine its contents. Some, and I think the practice should be more generally adopted, after the foregoing operations, sprinkle a quantity of very fine sand on the surface of the water in each jar; thereby giving, to whatever gross particles it may contain, a tendency to precipitation. It may, at first view, appear that, in the common course of society, gentlemen must be subject to partake of water which may not have been so scrupulously purified, and perhaps brought from some neighbouring tank, or from a river, impregnated by the influx of a brackish tide. Such may, assuredly, be the case occasionally; but it will be found, on reference to what has been said of the duties of the aub-dar, or water-servant, that purified water is carried by a bearer, in a bangy, or perhaps in a soorye, or earthen jug, to the house at which his master is to dine. In camp, it is a very general custom for every guest’s servant to supply his master with water of his own purifying; which is effected either by means of alum, or of some other astringent producing a similar effect.
The waters in the great rivers have various sources; but, speaking generally of the Ganges, which receives almost all the other rivers in its course from those mountains among which it has its source, to the Bay of Chittagong, where it empties itself into the sea in an immense expanse, we may divide its properties according to the countries through which it passes. Hence the various opinions that have been entertained of its qualities; which have been generally mentioned in a very loose, indiscriminate manner, without reference to the various soils whereby its purity must be affected, in a country where, as in Egypt, annual inundations prevail; or where, at least, such immense quantities of rain fall as would astonish a person not habituated to the most impetuous showers.
The Ganges takes its rise at the back of the Kammow Hills, beyond Hurdwar, where it issues forth as a narrow, but rapid stream, from among broken rocks, and soon spreads to some extent in the fertile plains of the Rohilcund district, which it divides from the province of Delhi. The natives of India rarely venture beyond Hurdwar. They have, however, an opinion that the true Ganga, as they term the Ganges, originates at that spot; and, considering the cow as the greatest blessing given to mankind, (for the Hindus venerate it with even more fervor than a Catholic does a supposed relic of our Saviour,) emphatically term it ‘the Cow’s Mouth;’ implying thereby the purity, as well as the value, of the waters.
But those mountains which give birth to the Ganges, are likewise the sources of the Barampooter; a river exceeding even the Ganges in capacity! These two immense streams deviate at their origin to opposite quarters; the Ganges proceeding westward, and the Barampooter eastward. The former, after winding at the back of the Kammow and Nagrocote Mountains, passes Hurdwar, and, proceeding in a devious track through the plains of Oude, Allahabad, Benares, Bahar, Jungleterry, Mauldah, Comercally, Dacca, and other subordinate districts, receives the Luckyah, as a branch from the Barampooter, and a few miles below Dacca unites with that river; whence, under the designation of ‘the Megna,’ they pursue their course for about sixty miles to the eastern part of the Bay of Bengal, forming by their junction a volume of water, encreasing, from about seven, to twenty miles in width.