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Title: The Hindoos as they Are
A Description of the Manners, Customs and the Inner Life
of Hindoo Society in Bengal
Author: Shib Chunder Bose
Release Date: October 11, 2011 [EBook #37722]
Language: English
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Transcriber's Note: For this text version, t with a dot underneath
is represented by [t.] as in "ba[t.]h".
THE
HINDOOS AS THEY ARE
A DESCRIPTION OF THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS
AND
INNER LIFE OF HINDOO SOCIETY
IN BENGAL.
BY
SHIB CHUNDER BOSE.
WITH A PREFATORY NOTE BY
THE REV. W. HASTIE, B. D.,
PRINCIPAL OF THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY'S INSTITUTION, CALCUTTA.
London:
EDWARD STANFORD, 55, CHARING CROSS.
Calcutta:
W. NEWMAN & Co., 3, DALHOUSIE SQUARE.
1881.
PRINTED BY W. NEWMAN AND CO.,
AT THE CAXTON PRESS, 1, MISSION ROW, CALCUTTA.
[_The Right of Translation and Reproduction is reserved._]
CONTENTS.
_Page._
PREFATORY NOTE. i
INTRODUCTION. iii
I. THE HINDOO HOUSEHOLD 1
II. THE BIRTH OF A HINDOO 22
III. THE HINDOO SCHOOL-BOY 30
IV. VOWS OF HINDOO GIRLS 35
V. MARRIAGE CEREMONIES 41
VI. THE BROTHER FESTIVAL 90
VII. THE SON-IN-LAW FESTIVAL 92
VIII. THE DOORGA POOJAH FESTIVAL 93
IX. THE KALI POOJAH FESTIVAL 136
X. THE SARASWATI POOJAH 151
XI. THE FESTIVAL OF CAKES 155
XII. THE HOLI FESTIVAL 159
XIII. CASTE 165
XIV. A BRAHMIN 180
XV. THE BENGALEE BABOO 191
XVI. THE KOBIRAJ, OR NATIVE PHYSICIAN 209
XVII. HINDOO FEMALES 216
XVIII. POLYGAMY 227
XIX. HINDOO WIDOWS 237
XX. SICKNESS, DEATH, AND SHRAD OR FUNERAL CEREMONIES 246
XXI. SUTTEE, OR THE IMMOLATION OF HINDOO WIDOWS 272
XXII. THE ADMIRED STORY OF SABITRI BRATA, OR THE
WONDERFUL TRIUMPH OF EXALTED CHASTITY 280
APPENDIX 293
ERRATA.
Page 49, line 4, for "_Butterfly_," read, "_Prajápati_--the (Lord.)"
PREFATORY NOTE.
Babu Shib Chunder Bose is an enlightened Bengali, of matured conviction
and character, who, having received the stirring impulse of Western
culture and thought during the early period of Dr. Duff's work in the
General Assembly's Institution, has continued faithful to it through all
these long and changeful years. His extended and varied experience, his
careful habit of observation and contrast, his large store of general
reading and information, and his rare sobriety and earnestness of
judgment, eminently qualify him for lifting the veil from the inner
domestic life of his countrymen, and giving such an account of their
social and religious observances as may prove intelligible and
instructive to general English readers. In the sketches which he has now
produced we are presented with the first-fruits of "the harvest of a
quiet eye" that has long meditatively watched the strange ongoings of
this ancient society, and penetrated with living insight into the
springs and tendency of its startling changes.
Although I had no special claim to any right of judgment upon the
present phases of Hindu life, the writer took me early into his
confidence, and from the apparent quality and sincerity of his work I
had no hesitation in encouraging him to persevere, recommending him,
however, to leave historical speculation to others and to confine
himself to a faithful delineation of facts within his own experience.
While his manuscripts were passing through my hands, I took pains to
verify his descriptions by frequent reference to younger educated
natives, who, in all cases, confirmed the accuracy and reliability of
the details. The book will stand on its own merits with English readers,
whose happily increasing interest in the forms and movements of Hindu
life at this transitional period when the picturesque institutions and
habits of thousands of years are visibly and irrevocably passing away,
should gladly welcome its fresh and opportune representations. And all
who, viewing without regret the decay of the old order and animated by
the faith of nobler possibilities than it has ever achieved, are
actually engaged in the great work of religious regeneration and social
reform in India, should find much in these truthful but saddening
sketches to intensify their sympathies and give definite direction and
guidance to their best efforts.
W. HASTIE.
THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY'S INSTITUTION,
_23rd March, 1881_.
INTRODUCTION.
In presenting the following volume to the Public, I am conscious of the
very great disadvantage I labor under in attempting to communicate my
thoughts through the medium of a language differing from my
mother-tongue both in the forms of construction and in the methods of
expression. My appeal to the indulgence of the public is based on the
ground of my work being true to its name. It professes to be a simple,
but faithful, delineation of the present state of Hindoo society in
Bengal, and especially in Calcutta, the Athens of Hindoosthan. I cannot
promise anything thrilling or sensational. My principal object is to
give as much information as possible regarding the moral, intellectual,
social and domestic economy of my countrymen and countrywomen. The
interest attaching to the information and facts furnished will greatly
depend on the spirit in which they may be received. To such of my
readers as feel a genuine interest in a true reflection of the present
state of society in this country, passing from a condition of almost
impenetrable darkness to that of marvellous light, through the general
and rapid diffusion of western knowledge, I do not think the details I
have given will be found dull or dry. Not a few of the facts stated
will, I fear, prove painfully interesting to those who are cognisant of
the many incrusted defects and deficiencies still lurking in our social
system. But if we carefully look at it we shall doubtless discover that
it is not all darkness and clouds, "it has its crimson dawns, its rosy
sunsets." The multitudinous phases of Hindoo life, though sadly
revolting and repulsive in many respects, have nevertheless some
redeeming features, revealing radiant glimpses of simple and innocent
joys. In discussing the various social questions in their purely earthly
aspects and relationships, it may be I have treated some of them
inadequately and superficially, but in so doing I claim the merit of a
humble endeavour after perfect honesty. I have in no wise exaggerated,
but have simply followed the golden maxim of "nothing extenuate nor set
down aught in malice."
* * * * *
The men of the land, and not the land of the men, form the subject
matter of my work. My attention has long been directed to the domestic,
social, moral, intellectual and religious condition of the Hindoos. The
deep researches of European savants have from time to time thrown a
flood of light on the learning and antiquities of India. We have every
reason to admire the great truthfulness and accuracy of their
observations in many respects. As foreigners, however, they were
naturally constrained to pay but a subordinate attention to the peculiar
domestic and social economy of the Natives. The idea of attempting a
sketch of the inner life and habits of the Hindoos in this age, was
originally suggested to the writer by the Revd. Drs. Duff and
Charles--two Christian philanthropists, whose names are deservedly
enshrined in the grateful memory of the Hindoo community of Bengal, the
great centre of their educational and religious achievements. It was
cordially approved by that high-minded statesman, Sir Charles
Theophilus, afterwards Lord Metcalfe, who practically taught the Indian
Public what a writer in the "_Nineteenth Century_" so aptly calls the
great Trinity of liberty,--freedom of speech, freedom of trade, and
freedom of religion.
To supply this desideratum, and not merely to gratify the natural
curiosity to know the inner life of the Hindoos, but to do something in
the line of social amelioration by "bringing the stagnant waters of
Eastern life into contact with the quickening stream of European
progress," have been the chief aim of the following pages. Should a
liberal Public, here as well as in Europe and America, vouchsafe its
countenance to this my first literary enterprise, I purpose to continue
my humble labor in the same sphere, extending my observation, if
advisable, to a picture of the social life of Upper, Western and
Southern India. The vastness of the subject is one great difficulty. It
will open to all civilized and philanthropic nations a wide and yet
unexplored field for the exercise of their thoughts and sympathies.
To Europeans, and more especially to Englishmen, who have, for more than
a century and a half, been the great and beneficent arbiters under
Providence of the destiny of this vast empire, a correct knowledge of
the domestic and social institutions of the Hindoos, is of the most
vital importance, being essentially indispensable to a right
understanding of the existing wants, wishes, feelings and sentiments,
condition and progress of the subject race. Many erroneous ideas
concerning the singular customs and observances of the people of India
still prevail in Europe and America. They are partly due to defective
observation, and partly to the prejudices of men whose minds are too
pre-occupied to properly understand and appreciate the peculiar phases
of character, manners and usages among nations other than their own.
Such men are unfortunately led to associate the Natives "with ways that
are dark and tricks that are vain." To remove the mass of misconception
yet prevailing in some quarters by placing before the general reader a
true and comprehensive knowledge of the daily life of a people, who
occupy such a huge spot on the earth's surface, and whose numbers are
counted by hundreds of millions, is indeed an important step towards the
solution of a great social problem, and towards the removal of the gulf
that divides the sons of the soil from the English rulers of the
country. The tendency of close and constant intercourse is to promote an
identity of interests between the two races. As a Native, the author may
be allowed to have had the facilities requisite for acquiring a clear
idea of the manners and customs of his countrymen, which may
counterbalance in some degree the drawbacks and deficiencies naturally
experienced by him on the score of language.
The Rev. W. Hastie, B. D., Principal of the General Assembly's
Institution, and Mr. J. B. Knight, C. I. E., have laid me under great
and lasting obligations by their kind suggestions and encouragement. I
have particularly to thank the former for the prefatory note which he
has written in response to my special request.
SHIB CHUNDER BOSE.
I.
THE HINDOO HOUSEHOLD.
It is my intention in the following pages to endeavour to convey to the
mind of the European reader some distinct idea of the present manners
and customs, usages and institutions of my Hindoo countrymen,
illustrative of their peculiar domestic and social habits and the
_inner_ life of our society, the minutiæ of which can never be
sufficiently accessible to Europeans. "It is in the domestic circle that
manners are best seen, where restraint is thrown aside, and no external
authority controls the freedom of expression."
I shall begin with a general account of the normal Hindoo household, as
at once the living centre and meeting point of the various elements of
our society. But as it is impossible to describe the manifold gradations
of social condition in a single sketch, I shall draw from the domestic
arrangements of a family of one of the higher castes and provided with a
convenient share of worldly prosperity. Only the principal elements in
the group can now be alluded to, and some of them will be described with
greater detail in separate sketches.
The family domicile of a Hindoo is, to all intents and purposes, a
regular sanctum, not easily accessible to the outside world. Its
peculiar construction, its tortuous passages, its small compartments and
special apportionment, obviously indicate the prevalence of a taste
"cabined, cribbed, confined," and preclude the admittance of free
ventilation and free intercourse. The annals of history have long since
established the fact that the close confinement system which exists in
Bengal, was mainly owing to the oppressions of the Moslem conquerors,
and more recently to the inroads of the Pindaree marauders, commonly
termed _Burghees_, the tales of whose depredations are still listened
to with gaping mouths and terrified interest.
The gradual consolidation of the British power having established on a
firm basis the security of life and property, the people are beginning
to avail themselves of an improved mode of habitation, affording better
facilities of accommodation and a wider range of the comforts and
conveniences of life. From time out of mind there has existed in the
country a sort of domestic and social economy, bearing a close
resemblance to the old patriarchal system, recognising the principle of
a common father or ruler of a family, who exercises parental control
over all. The system of a joint Hindoo family[1] partaking of the same
food, living under the same roof from generation to generation,
breathing the same atmosphere, and worshipping the same god, is
decidedly a traditional inheritance which the particular structure of
Hindoo society has long reared and fostered. This side of the subject
will be enlarged upon in its proper place.
A few words about the respective position and duties of the principal
members of a Hindoo household will be in place at the outset. I shall,
therefore, begin with the _Kartá_ or male head, who, as the term
imports, exercises supreme control over the whole family, so that no
domestic affair of any importance may be undertaken without his consent
or knowledge. The financial management, almost entirely regulated by his
superior judgment, seldom or never exceeds the available means at his
disposal. The honor, dignity and reputation of the family wholly depend
on his prudence and wisdom, weighted by age and matured by experience.
His own individual happiness is identified with that of the other
members of the household. There is a proverbial expression among the
Natives, teaching that the counsel of the aged should be accepted for
all the practical purposes of life (except in a few unhappy instances to
be noticed hereafter) and the rule exerts a healthy influence on the
domestic circle. As the supreme Head he has not only to look after the
secular wants of the family but likewise to watch the spiritual needs of
all the members, checking irregularities by the sound discipline of
earnest admonition. In accordance with the usual consequences of a
patriarchal system, a respectable Hindoo is often obliged to support a
certain number of hangers-on, more or less related to him by kinship. A
brother, an uncle, a nephew, a brother-in-law, etc., with their
families, are not unfrequently placed in this humiliating position,
notwithstanding the currency of the trite apothegm,--which says, "it is
better to be dependent on another for _food_ than to live in his
_house_." This saying is to be supplemented by another which runs thus:
"_Luckhee_, the goddess of prosperity, always commands a numerous
train." The proper significance of these phrases is but too practically
understood and felt by those who have been unfortunate enough to come
under their exemplification.
Next in point of importance in the category of the domestic circle is
his wife, the _Ghinni_, or the female Head, whose position is a
responsible one, and whose duties are alike manifold and arduous. She
has to look after the victualling department, report to her husband or
sons the exact state of the stores,[2] order what is wanted, account for
the extra consumption of victuals, adopt the necessary precaution
against being robbed, see that everyone is duly fed, and that the rite
of hospitality is extended to the poor and helpless, watch that the
rules of purity are practically observed in every department of the
household, and make daily arrangements as to what meals are to be
prepared for the day. The study of domestic economy engages her
attention from the moment she undertakes the varied duties in the inner
department of a household, the proper management of which, is, to her, a
congenial occupation, becoming her sex, her position, her habitude, her
taste. Independent of these domestic charges which are enough to absorb
her mind, she has other duties to discharge, which shall be indicated
hereafter.
The next chief constituents in the body of the household, are the
daughters and daughters-in-law, whose relative positions and duties
demand a separate notice. Viewed from their close relationship it is
reasonable to conclude that they should bear the kindliest feelings to
each other and evince a tender regard for mutual happiness, returning
love for love and sympathy for sympathy. But, as elsewhere, unhappily,
such is the depravity of human nature that the operation of antagonistic
influences arising from dissimilar idiosyncracies, embitters some of the
sweetest enjoyments of life. In the majority of cases, a _nanad_, the
sister of the husband, though allied to another family, is nevertheless
solicitous to minister to the domestic felicity of her _vaja_ or the
wife of his brother, but unhappily her intent is often misconstrued, and
the sincerity of her motive questioned. Instead of an unclouded
cordiality subsisting between them, the generous affection of the one is
but ill-requited by the other. Hence, an unaccountable coldness commonly
springs up between them which materially subtracts from the growth of
domestic felicity. Shame on us that a vast amount of ignorance and
prejudice yet renders us incapable of appreciating the highest end of
the social state.
When the several female members of a household meet together, enlivened
by the company of their neighbours and friends (such visits being few
and far between), these first object of inquiry is generally the amount
of ornaments possessed, their workmanship, their value. Few things
please them better than a conversation on this subject, which from the
absence of mental culture, almost wholly monopolizes their mind, despite
the natural tendency of human intellect to a progressive development. If
not thus absorbed, the time is usually frittered away by sundry petty
frivolous inquiries of a purely domestic character. On matters of the
most vital importance their notions are as crude and irrational as they
are absurd and childish.[3] Except in isolated instances, their bearing
towards each other is generally marked by suavity, and kindliness of
manners which has a tendency to draw closer the bond of union between
them all.
It is on such occasions that the amiable loveliness of human nature, is
displayed,--brightening, for a time, at least the otherwise dark region
of a Hindoo zenana and cheering the hearts of its inmates. In a thickly
populated city like Calcutta, with its broad roads and dense crowds at
all hours of the day, without a closed conveyance, either a palkee or a
carriage, no married female is permitted to leave the house even for a
single moment, for that of her sister, perhaps some three doors from her
own. So great is the privacy, and punctiliousness with which female
honor is guarded in the East. The sanction of the male or female head
must, as a standing rule of female etiquette, be obtained before any one
is at liberty to go out even to return a friendly or ceremonious visit.
The reader may form an idea as to the tenacity with which the close
zenana system in a respectable family is enforced, from the circumstance
of a young _Bahou_ or daughter-in-law (the rules being not so strict in
the case of a daughter) being set down as immodest and unmannerly, if
she were accidently seen to tread the outer or male compartment of the
house. If she but chance to articulate a word or a phrase so as to reach
the ear of a male outside, she is severely censured, and steps are
instantly taken, to teach her better manners for the future. Even the
_Ghinni_, or female Head, does not escape censure for a like offence.
With such scrupulous pertinacity is the privacy of the _inner_ life of
the Hindoo society observed. A social line of demarcation is drawn
around the zenana which a genteel Hindoo female is told and taught never
to overstep, either in her conversation or bearing. Woe be to the day
when she is incautiously led to move beyond her sphere, which, for all
the practical purposes of life, is closely hemmed in by a ring of
miserable seclusion, illustrating the scornful lines of the poet:
"Let Eastern tyrants from the light of heaven
Seclude their bosom slaves."
A few advanced Hindoos, more especially the Brahmos, who have received
the benefits of an enlightened education, are making strenuous efforts
to ameliorate the degraded condition of their wives and sisters (the
mothers being too old and conservative to acquiesce in the spirit of
modern innovation) and bring them to the front, if possible, by ignoring
the rules of orthodoxy. But it is the firm belief of such as have been
schooled by experience and observation, that the time is yet far distant
when this bold, sweeping, social revolution shall be brought about with
the general consensus of the people at large. The moral tone of Native
society must be immensely raised, its manners and customs entirely
remodelled, and its traditional institutions and prescriptive usages
thoroughly purified before the consummation of so desirable an object
can be successfully effected.
A Hindoo girl, even after marriage, enjoys greater liberty and is
treated with more indulgence at her father's house than at her
father-in-law's. The cause of this is obvious. From the very period of
her birth, she is nurtured by her mother, aunts, sisters and other
female relatives, no less than by her father, uncle, brothers and other
male members of the family, all of whom naturally continue to bear her
the same love and affection throughout her after life. A mother hugs her
more tenderly, caresses her more fondly, hangs about her more
affectionately, feels greater sympathy in her joy and sorrow, and
watches more carefully how she grows up in health to her present state,
than a mother-in-law. Whether she is eating, talking or playing, her
mother's care never ceases. Should maternal admonition fail to produce
the desired effect, as it does in a few isolated instances, the usual
threat of sending her to her father-in-law's, acts as the most wholesome
corrective.
The social relaxations of Hindoo females have a very limited range. Some
delight in reading the Mahábhárat, the Ramayán, tales, romances, etc.,
while others are fond of needle-work, playing at cards, or listening to
stories of a puerile description. Though they seldom come out of their
houses, except under permissive sanction, yet their stock of gossip is
almost inexhaustible. They are generally lively and loquacious, and the
chief passion of their life is for the acquisition of ornaments. They
possess a retentive memory, seldom forgetting what they once hear. Fond
of hyperboles, the sober realities of life have little attraction for
their minds. Their social tone is neither so pure nor so elevated as
becomes a polished, refined community. It is almost needless to add,
that their familiar conversation is not characterised by that chaste,
dignified language, which constitutes the prominent feature of a people
far advanced in the van of civilization. Objectionable modes of
expression generally pass muster among them, simply because they labor
under the great disadvantage of the national barrenness of intellect and
the acknowledged poverty of colloquial literature.
It is a well-known fact that Hindoo males and females do not take their
meals together. Both squat down on the floor at the time of eating.
Except in the case of little girls, it is held highly unbecoming in a
grown up female to be seen eating by a male member of the family. As a
rule, women take their meals after the men have finished theirs. There
is a popular belief that women take a longer time to eat than men. Of
the perfection of the culinary art, the former are better judges than
the latter. They chat and eat leisurely because they have no offices to
go to, nor any definite occupation to engage their minds in. A Hindoo
writer has said, that commonly speaking, they eat more and digest more
readily than men. Naturally modest, they take their meals without any
complaint, though sometimes they are served with food not of the very
best description. The choicest part of the food is offered in the first
instance to the males and the residue is kept for the females. A woman
is religiously forbidden to taste of anything in the shape of eatables
before it is given to a man. Simple in taste, diet and habits, but shut
up in a state of close confinement, and leading a monotonous life,
scarcely cheered by a ray of light, they are necessarily not receptive
of large communications of truth.
The children form an important link in the great chain of the domestic
circle. When sporting about in childhood they have commonly spare
persons, light brown skins, high foreheads beaming with intelligence,
large dark eyes, with aquiline noses, small thin-lipped mouths, and dark
soft hair. The fairness of their complexion is generally sallowed by
exposure to the sun in the earliest stage of childhood.
The child grows up under the fostering care of its parents amidst all
the surroundings of the family domicile. As it advances in years the
mother endeavours, according to her very limited capacity, to instil
into its mind the rude elements of knowledge. From the incipient stage
of early infancy when his mind is rendered susceptible of culture and
expansion, crude and imperfect religious ideas largely leavened with
superstition, are communicated to him, which subsequently mould his
character in an undesirable manner. His early affections and moral
principles are most entirely influenced by the impressions he receives
at the maternal fount, and he seldom comes in contact with the outer
world. He is taught to pay divine homage to all the idols that are
worshipped at stated periods of the year, and his indistinct ideas grow
into deep convictions, the pernicious influence of which can only
afterwards be effaced by the blessings of western knowledge. In the
villages "_chánaka sloaka_" or elementary lessons are still given as a
sort of moral exercise. The mother from want of adequate capacity or
culture is unfit to engraft on the youthful mind the higher divine
truths, to teach the child how to look on men, how to feel for them, how
to bear with them, how to be true, honest, manly, and how to "look
beneath the outward to the spiritual, immortal and divine." Solid,
practical wisdom, however, is often extracted from the most commonplace
experiences, even by untutored minds.
"Honor thy father and thy mother," is the first scriptural commandment
with promise, the importance and excellence of which is early impressed
on the mind of a Hindoo child by wise, discreet parents. And Hindoos are
honorably distinguished by their affections for their parents, and
continue to be so even in the maturer years of their life.
In the case of a girl, even the most elementary sort of instruction is
neglected except that she occasionally studies the Bengallee primer,--an
innovation which the spirit of the times countenances. When of proper
age, she is sent to a female school where she pursues her studies until
finally withdrawn therefrom after her marriage. As a rational being she
may continue to evince a natural desire and aptitude for intellectual
progress and to carry it on by home study according to her taste and
position in life. A few have made astonishing progress, despite certain
formidable obstacles which an abnormal state of society inevitably
interposes. The traditional bugbear of becoming a widow if she were to
learn to read and write has happily passed away, not only in the great
centres of education but likewise in several parts of the rural
districts, where, to all appearances, females are just beginning, as it
were, to assert their right to the improvement of their minds. This is
certainly an unerring presage, foreshadowing the advent of national
regeneration in the fullness of time. Many families being well-to-do in
the world engage a Christian governess[4] both for elementary
instruction as well as for needle-work, the latter being an
accomplishment which even the most matronly ladies have now taken a
great liking for. The introduction of this art of tasteful production
has, in a great measure, superseded the idle, unprofitable gossip of the
day, driving away ennui and slothfulness at the same time.
In almost every respectable Hindu household there is a tutelar god,
chiefly made of stone and metal after one of the images of Krishna, set
up on a gold or silver throne with silver umbrella and silver utensils
dedicated to its service. Every morning and evening it is worshipped by
the hereditary _Purohit_, or priest, who visits the house for the
purpose twice a day, and who, as the name implies, is the _first_ in all
religious ceremonies, second to none but the _guru_ or spiritual guide.
The offerings of rice, fruits, sweetmeats and milk, made to the god, he
carries home after the close of the service. A conch is blown, a bell is
rung, and a gong beat at the time of the Poojah, when the religiously
disposed portion of the inmates, male and female, in a quasi-penitent
attitude, make their obeisance to the god and receive in return the
hollow benediction of the priest. The daily repetition of the service
quickens the heartbeats of the devotees and serves to remind them,
however faintly, of their religious duties. Such a worship is popularly
regarded in the light of an act of great merit paving the way to
everlasting bliss. A suitable endowment in landed property is sometimes
set apart for the permanent support of the idol, which is called the
_debatra_ land or inalienable property, according to the Hindu Shastras.
Some families that have been reduced to a state of poverty through the
reverses of fortune now live on the usufruct of the _debatra_ land,
which serves as a sheet-anchor in stormy weather.
Besides the daily Poojah of the household deity there are some other
extraordinary religious celebrations, such as Doorga, Kali, Lakshmi,
Jagaddhatri, Saraswati, Kartik, Janmáshtami, Dole, Rásh, Jhoolun,
Jatras, etc., (the latter four being all Poojahs of Krishna) which
excite the religious fervor of the Vaishnavas, as contra-distinguished
from the Saktas, the followers of Kali or Doorga the female principle.
The internal daily details of a Hindu household next demand our
attention. In the morning when the breakfast is ready the little
children are served first as they have to go to their schools, and then
the adult male members, chiefly brothers, nephews, etc., who have to
attend their offices. They all squat down _vis-a-vis_ on small bits of
carpet on the floor, while the mother sits near them, not to eat but to
see that they are all properly served; she closely watches that each and
every one of them is duly satisfied; she would never feel happy should
any of them find fault with a particular dish as being unsavoury, she
snubs the cook and taxes herself for her own want of supervision in the
kitchen, because the idea of having failed to do her duty in this
respect is an agony to her mind.
As a mother, she avails herself of this opportunity to plunge into
conversation, and consult her sons about the conduct of all domestic
affairs, which necessarily expand as there are adjuncts to the original
stock. For example, she takes their advice as to the amount of
expenditure to be incurred at the forthcoming wedding of _Sharat
Shashee_, the youngest daughter, in the month of Falgun, or February.
This is an occasion, when the hearts of both the sons and the mother
overflow with the milk of human kindness, yet there is a desire to avoid
extravagance as far as possible.
A prudent mother wisely regulates her expenses according to the means
and earnings of her sons, and she seldom or never comes to grief. The
idea of an extravagant Hindoo mother is a solecism that has no existence
in the actual realities of life. She is a model of economy, devotion,
chastity, patience, self-denial, and a martyr to domestic affection. She
may be wanting in mental accomplishment, which is not her own fault, but
the very large share of strong common-sense she is naturally endowed
with, sufficiently makes up for every deficiency in all the ordinary
concerns of life. Accustomed to look upon her sons as the pride of her
existence, she seeks every legitimate means to promote their happiness.
If her daughters-in-law turn out querulous, and fall out one with
another, which is not unfrequently the case, she reconciles them by the
panacea of gentle remonstrance. But unhappily, such is the degeneracy of
the present age that the influence of wholesome admonition being
shamefully ignored is often lost in the cataclysm of discord, and the
inevitable consequence is, that vicious selfishness disturbs Heaven's
blessed peace, and "love cools, friendships fall off, brothers divide."
After the sons have gone to their respective offices, the mother
changing her clothes retires into the _thakurghar_(the place of worship)
and goes through her morning service, at the close of which she
prostrates herself, invokes the blessing of her guardian deity, and then
again changing her clothes, takes her breakfast and enjoys a short
siesta, while chewing a mouthful of betel sometimes mixed with tobacco
leaf, in order to strengthen her teeth.
In any sketch of a Hindu family it is necessary that something should be
said about the domestic servants attached to a Hindu household. The
cook, whose employment involves some very important considerations, may
be either a male or a female. In most families, a preference is
generally shewn for a female cook[5] for reasons which are obvious. The
kitchen, being as a rule, placed in the inner division of the house, the
females have an opportunity to assist her in various ways, so as to
facilitate and expedite her work, which certainly is not always of the
most pleasant nature. The dietary of a Hindu family, as may be easily
anticipated, is of the simplest description, consisting for the most
part of vegetables and fishes, with a little milk and ghee, but no eggs
or meat of any kind. Not like the prepared dishes of the French and
Moguls, highly flavored and richly spiced, the daily preparations are
very simple; no onion, garlic, or strong aromatic spices are used. They
are easy of digestion and palatable to taste, being altogether free from
offensive and foetid smell. The simple turmeric, pepper, cummin,
coriander and mustard seeds, etc., generally impart a fine flavor to the
preparations, which the frugal and abstemious Hindoos eat with great
zest. I have known the wives of several rich Baboos, take a delight in
preparing with their own hands the evening meal of their husband and
sons. This is entirely a labor of love, which they go through with the
greatest cheerfulness. It is necessary to mention here that without
fishes, which are very abundant, a nice little Hindoo breakfast or
dinner in Bengal is an impossibility. The art of cooking should not be a
mystery to all save the initiated few, it should be the study of every
good and thrifty woman who is willing to sacrifice needless elegance and
pomp to comfort and economy.
This gastronomical digression will serve to indicate the taste of the
Hindu in Bengal, and the very simple style of their living. Even in the
selection of articles of food a nice distinction is observed; fishes are
dressed in a part of the kitchen quite distinct from where the
vegetable dishes are prepared, because a widow is strictly forbidden to
use anything which comes in contact with fishes. Moreover, a widow would
not accept a dish unless it is prepared by a real Brahmin cook, male or
female. Should a male member of the family be ever disposed to eat goat
flesh (he being forbidden to use any other kind of meat, save mutton,
when sacrificed) a _Sakta_ cook undertakes to prepare it for him. When
finished, she changes her clothes and purifies her body by sprinkling
over it a few drops of Ganges water. Excepting little unmarried girls,
whose parents are _Saktas_ (worshippers of female deities) no other
Hindu female is permitted to use meat even by sufferance. In other
rigidly orthodox families a similar concession is withheld.
The wage of a female cook, who in nine cases out of ten is a widow, is
about six to seven Rupees a month, with a few annas extra for
_Ekadashi_--the day of close fast for all widows--and cocoanut oil for
her hair,[6] six pieces of grey shirtings each ten cubits long, and
three bathing napkins a year. She also gets an extra piece of cloth at
the Doorga Poojah festival, when the most wretched pauper, somehow or
other, puts on new clothes. Some of the widow cooks have certainly seen
better days, but the vicissitudes of fortune have made them hopelessly
destitute. As a rule, they bear the load of misfortune with the greatest
patience. They chiefly come from the villages, and it speaks much in
favor of the purity of their character that they ungrudgingly submit to
the menial offices of a drudge, instead of being seduced into the
forbidden paths of life. Of course there are a few black sheep in the
flock, but happily their number is very limited. A male cook is always
a Brahman. It is almost superfluous to add that the employment in a
family or the admittance of any man-servant into the inner apartment of
a Hindoo household, which is emphatically the great centre, as well of
domestic happiness as of religious sanctity, is open to many objections.
The second domestic servant that demands a notice at our hands is the
_Jhee_, or maid-servant of the family. Her duties are alike onerous and
troublesome. Like the potter's wheel she incessantly turns backwards and
forwards and knows no rest till about ten o'clock at night. She rises
early in the morning, sweeps and washes all the rooms and verandahs
inside the house, cleans all the brass utensils of the family, makes
fire in the stove, pounds the kitchen spices, prepares fishes for
cooking purposes, and attends to other duties of a household nature.
Some maid-servants are almost exclusively employed in taking care of
children. Their duties are not so hard as those of the family _Jhee_
indicated above. These females are often drawn from the dregs of society
and their conduct, or rather misconduct, sometimes leads to the most
unhappy results. Their wage is about two Rupees a month, exclusive of
food and clothes. They occasionally also make something by carrying
presents to relatives and friends.
I next come to the male servants: there are more than a half-dozen of
them in a respectable family, and their services are in the main
confined to the outer apartment of the household. They sweep and clean
all the rooms, spread white cloth bedding on the floor, change the water
of the _hookah_ (the first essential both at an ordinary and special
reception) fill the _chillum_ with tobacco, _kochay_, or trim the fine
black bordered Simla _Dhuti_ and _Kalmay Urani_ (Baboo's native dressing
attire) put in order the lamps, and go to Bazar to make purchases. Their
pay ranges from three to four Rupees a month, exclusive of food and
clothes.
A rich Hindoo, however, has a large establishment of servants in
addition to those mentioned above. There are durwans (door-keepers);
syces (grooms); coachmen, gardeners, sircar, cashier, accountant, etc.,
each of whom discharges his functions in his own sphere, but they seldom
or never come in contact with the female inmates of the household. The
cashier is the most important and responsible person, and his income is
larger than that of any other servant, because he gets his commission
from all tradespeople dealing with the family. All of them get presents
of clothes at the great national festival the Doorga Pujah.
The _khansamah_ of a Baboo is his most favorite servant. From the nature
of his office he comes into closest contact with his master, he rubs his
body with oil before bathing and sometimes shampooes him,--a practice
which gradually induces idle, effeminate habits, and eventually greatly
incapacitates a man for the manifold duties of an active life. Indeed,
to study the life of a "big native swell" is to study the character of a
consummate Oriental epicure, immersed in a ceaseless round of pleasures,
and hedged in by a body of unconscionable fellows, distinguished only
for their flattery and servility.
Except in isolated instances, the general treatment of domestic servants
by their masters, is not reprehensible.
Except such as possess a thorough insight into the peculiar mysteries of
the inner life of the Hindoo society, very few are aware that a
wife--perhaps the mother of three or four children--is forbidden to open
her lips or lift her veil in order to speak to her husband in presence
of her mother-in-law, or any other adult male or female member of the
family. She may converse with the children without fear of being exposed
to the charge of impropriety; this is the systole and diastole of her
liberty, but she is imperatively commanded to hold her tongue and drop
down her veil whenever she happens to see an elderly member in her way.
A phrase used in common parlance (_Bhasur Bhadrabau_) denotes the utmost
privacy, as that which the _wife_ of a younger brother should observe
towards the elder _brother_ of her husband. It is an unpardonable sin,
as it were, in the former, even to come in contact with the very shadow
of the latter. The rules of conventionalism have reared an adamantine
partition wall between the two. We have all learnt in our school-days
that modesty is a quality which highly adorns a woman, but the peculiar
domestic economy of the natives, carries this golden rule to the utmost
stretch of restriction, verging on sacred, religious prohibition.
The general state of Hindoo female society, as at present constituted,
exhibits an improved moral tone, presenting an edifying contrast to the
gross proclivities of former times as far as popular amusements are
concerned. The popular amusements of the Hindoos, like those of many
European nations, have rarely been characterised by essentially moral
principles. But the loose and immoral amusements of the former time do
not now so much interest our educated females. The popular Native
_Jatras_ (representations) do not now breathe those low, obscene
expressions, which was the wont only some thirty years back, yet they
are not, withal, absolutely pure or elevated. It is true that some of
them are touching and pathetic in their themes, not jarring to a moral
sense but admirably adapted to the taste of a people having a supreme
respect for their idolatrous and mythological systems, from which most
of these _Jatras_ are derived. The marvellous and the supernatural
always exact an instinctive regard from the ignorant and the credulous
multitude, destitute of the superior blessings of enlightenment. The
_Panchaly_ (represented by female actresses only) which is given for the
amusement of the females, especially at the time of the second marriage,
is sometimes much too obscene and immoral to be tolerated in a zenana
having any pretension to gentility. On such an occasion, despite a
strict conventional restriction, a depraved taste clearly manifests
itself. Much has yet to be done to develope among the females a taste
for purer amusements, and such as are better adapted to a healthy state
of society.
In Hindoo females there is a prominent trait which deserves to be
commended. Moses, Mohammed, and Manu, observes Benjamin Disraeli, say
cleanliness is religion. Cleanliness certainly promotes health of body
and delicacy of mind. When that excellent prelate, Heber, travelled in a
boat on the sacred stream of the Ganges, seeing large crowds of Hindoo
females engaged in washing their bodies and clothes on both sides of the
river, at the rising and setting of the sun, he most emphatically
remarked that cleanliness is the supreme virtue of Hindoo women. In the
Upper Provinces, at all seasons of the year, hundreds of women could be
daily seen with baskets of flowers in their hands slowly walking in the
direction of the river, and chanting songs in a chorus in praise of the
"unapproachable sanctuary of Mahadev, the great glacier world of the
Himàlayà, with its wondrous pinnacles, rising 24,000 feet above the
level of the sea, and descending into the amethyst-hued ice cavern,
whence issues, in its turbulent and noisy infancy, the sacred river of
India." They display a purity, a sincerity, a constant and passionate
devotion to their faith, which present a striking contrast to the
conduct of men steeped in the quagmire of profligacy.
Our ladies bathe their bodies and change their clothes twice in a day,
in the morning and in the afternoon, neglecting which they are not
permitted to take in hand any domestic work.
In the large Hindoo households, the lot of the wife who is childless is
truly deplorable. While her sisters are rejoicing in the juvenile fun
and frolics of their respective children, sporting with all the
elasticity of a light, free, and buoyant heart, she sits sulkily aloof,
and inwardly repines at the unkind ordinance of _Bidhátá_ and earnestly
invokes _Ma Shasthi_ (the patron deity of all children) to grant her the
inestimable boon of offspring, without which this butterfly life is
unsanctified, unprofitable and hollow.
The barrenness of a Hindoo female is denounced as a sin, for the
atonement of which certain religious rites are performed, and incessant
prayers offered to all the terrestrial and celestial gods; but all her
superstitious practices proving in vain, only tend to intensify her
misery.
In the beginning of this sketch I set out by stating that the peculiar
constitution of Hindoo society bears an affinity to the old patriarchal
system. This is true to a very great extent. The system has its
advantages and disadvantages, which are, in a great measure, inseparable
from the outgrowth of the social organism. If properly weighed in the
scale, the latter will most assuredly counterbalance the former, so much
so, that in the great majority of cases, discord and disquietude is the
inevitable result of joint fraternisation. Leadership is certainly
organisation; it formed the nucleus of the patriarchal system. But it is
simply absurd to expect that there should always be a happy marriage of
minds in all cases, between so many men and women living together,
endowed with different degrees of culture and influenced by adverse
interests and sentiments. In the nature of things, it is impossible that
all the members of a large family, having separate and specific objects
of their own, should coalesce and cordially co-operate to promote the
general welfare of a family, under a common leader or head. The
millennium is not yet come. Seven brothers living together with their
wives and children under one and the same paternal roof, cannot
reasonably be expected to abide in a state of perfect harmony so long as
selfishness and incongruous tastes and interests are continually at work
to sap the very foundation of friendliness and good fellowship. Union
is strength, but harmonious union under the peculiar regime indicated
above, is already a remarkable exception in the present state of Hindoo
society. If minutely probed, it will be found that women are at the
bottom of that mischievous discord, which eats into the very vitals of
domestic felicity. Segregation, therefore, is the only means that
promises to afford a relief from this social incubus; and to segregation
many families have now resorted, much after the fashion of the dominant
race, with a view to the uninterrupted enjoyment of domestic happiness.
Having briefly indicated in the preceding lines the chief family
constituents of a Hindoo household in their several relations and
characteristics, it is scarcely necessary for me to add, that whenever
this interesting group, consisting of sweet children, loving husbands
and wives, and affectionate parents and brothers, is animated by the
vital, indestructible principles of virtue, practically recognising the
obligations of duty, the divinity of conscience, and the moral
connection of the present and future life, it will be found to diffuse
all the blessings of peace, joy and moral order around the social and
domestic hearth.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The late Dr. Jackson, who was the family physician of the great
Native millionaire,--Baboo Ashutosh Dey--seeing the very large number of
men and women who resided in his family dwelling house, very facetiously
remarked that the mansion was a small colony. A similar remark was made
by Dr. Duff when he happened to see the numerous members of the Dutt
family in Nimtollah, West of the Free Church Institution. If all the
children and adults, male and female, of the family now, are counted,
the actual number would, if I am not mistaken, come up to near 500
persons, perhaps more.
[2] Natives are always provident enough to lay in a month's supply of
articles which are not of a perishable nature. In the Upper and Central
Provinces, they generally provide a twelve-months' requirements at the
harvest season when prices are moderate. They are thus enabled to
husband their resources in the most economical manner possible.
[3] The following scene will clearly illustrate the point. At an
assembly of some females on a festive occasion, among other current
topics of the day, the conversation turned on the religion of the _Sahib
logues_(Europeans). Impelled by a sense of duty and justice no less than
by the convictions of conscience, I admired the disinterested exertions
of the Christian Missionaries in endeavouring to spread among our
benighted countrymen the benefits of a good education as well as the
blessings of a good religion. Fearlessly encountering all the dangers of
the deep, which, happily for the cause of human advancement, have now
been greatly minimized, renouncing all the pleasures of the world, and
fortifying their minds against persecution, suffering and reproach, they
come, not only among us but travel through the most uncongenial climes
"to preach Christ." The remarkable disinterestedness and self-denial of
some of these Missionaries is a bright reality, to appreciate which is
to appreciate Christianity. Before the propagation of the religion of
Christ, said I, the most admired form of goodness was centred in
patriotism or the love of one's own country, but Jesus brought with him
a new era of philanthrophy, the main pervading principle of which is a
spirit of martyrdom in the cause of mankind. Can we find traces of such
catholicism in our Hindoo Shaster? The universal fatherhood of God and
brotherhood of man is only practically enunciated in the religion of
Christ. The females were all struck with the noble, sublime, yet humble,
forgiving and disinterested virtues of the religion of the _Sahib
logues_. But a pert young female, quite unschooled by experience and too
much wedded to wordly attractions, rather thoughtlessly replied that
"the act of giving education is a good thing in its own way, so far as
it affords a means of earning money, but why do the _Padrees_
(Missionaries) strive to convert our Hindoo boys, and thereby compel
them to forsake their parents to whom they owe their being? What
advantage do they gain by such conversions? This is not good. Brahmo
religion does not demand any such sacrifice. Why do the heads of the
_Padrees_ ache for this purpose? They ought to give all their money to
us, poor women, that we may buy ornaments therewith." Such is the low,
grovelling idea they generally have of Christianity. It is useless to
argue with them, simply because their minds are completely saturated
with deep-rooted prejudice, and narrow, debased, selfish views.
[4] The following incident will doubtless contribute not a little to the
amusement of the reader. One day a governess was giving instructions in
needle-work to a young married girl of thirteen years of age. She, (the
girl) was industriously plying the needle, when lo! an aged female cook
from the house of her husband suddenly appeared before her, and simply
enquired of her how she was. The shy girl, overpowered by a sense of
shame, dropped down her veil almost to the ground, and not only stopped
work but likewise ceased to talk to the governess. The latter struck
with amazement, quietly asked her pupil if she had hurt her eyes because
she held fast her right hand on that part of her face. Other ladies of
the family stepped forward and explained to the governess the real cause
of the awkward position the girl was placed in. It was nothing more nor
less than the unexpected visit of the female cook to the family of the
bride. From feelings of false delicacy in presence of her husband's
cook, she hung down her face and dropped down her veil. The governess
learning the true cause politely desired the female cook to retire that
she might be enabled to give her lessons without any interruption.
[5] Whether descended from a Brahmin or Kayasth family, she goes by the
general name of _Bamun Didi_ (sister) so named that the members of other
families might unsuspectingly eat out of her hands. She is also called
_Maye_ (woman). The entertaining of a middle aged female (generally a
widow) is considered safe and irreproachable.
[6] In order to preserve the hair and keep it clean, all Hindu females
in Bengal use cocoanut oil for the head; they however rub their bodies
with mustard oil before bathing. Young ladies occasionally use pomatum,
bear's grease, soap, etc., which, in a religious sense, is desecration.
II.
THE BIRTH OF A HINDOO.
The birth of a Hindoo into the household of which he is to form an
essential constituent is attended with circumstances which partake, more
or less, of the religion he inherits. It has been said that by tradition
and instinct as well as by early habits, he is a religious character. He
is born religiously, lives religiously, eats religiously, walks
religiously, writes religiously, sleeps religiously and dies
religiously. His every-day life is an endless succession of rites and
ceremonies which he observes with the utmost of scrupulousness
sanctioned by divine veneration. From his very birth his mind is imbued
with superstitious ideas, which subsequent mental culture can hardly
ever eradicate, so strong being the influence of his early impressions.
It is now generally known that Hindoo girls are betrothed even in their
tenderest years, and that the solemnisation of the marriage takes place
whenever they attain to the age of puberty. Thus it is not uncommon for
a young wife to be delivered of her first child in her thirteenth year,
although the glory of motherhood is more frequently not realised until
the fourteenth or fifteenth year. When the period of delivery arrives,
and to her it is an awful period, which can be more easily conceived
than described, the girl writhing under agony is taken into a room
called Sootikaghur or Antoorghur, where no male members of the family
are admitted. She is made to wear a red-bordered robe and two images of
the goddess _Shashthi_ made of cowdung are placed near the threshold of
the room for her daily worship with rice and _durva_ grass, for one
month--the period of her confinement. If in her tender age, the labor be
a protracted one, she often suffers greatly from the want of a skilful
surgeon or even a proper midwife. Before the founding of that noble
Institution, the Calcutta Medical College, proper midwives were not
procurable, because they had had no systematic training; their
profession was chiefly confined to the Dome and Bagthee caste, yet some
of them were known to have acquired a tolerable fortune. Their fee
varied from 5 to 50 Rupees, besides clothes and other gifts; the poor,
certainly, giving less. For some years past, a strong belief has sprung
up among some women that delivery in the name of god Hari Krishna is
very safe. They that follow this religious regime, are believed, in the
majority of cases, to have passed through the struggle of childbirth
quite scathless. They use no _jhall_ or _thap_,[7] bathe in cold water
immediately after delivery, take the ordinary food of _dhall vath_,
curry, fish and tamarind, after offering them to the god Hari, and on
the 30th day make a Poojah (worship) consecrating in honor of the god a
quantity of sweetmeats (_sundesh and batasha_) and finally distribute
them among children and others. This distribution is called Hariloot.
This strong faith in the god seems to enable them to pass the period of
confinement without danger. If the offspring of such women become
strong, their strength is attributed to the mercy of the said god.[8]
A woman that follows the old prescribed practice has to take _jhall_ and
_thap_ and go through a strict course of dietetics, abstaining
altogether from the use of cold water or any cooling beverage. She has
to undergo the action of heat for at least five hours a day. The body
and head of the newborn babe is rubbed with warm mustard oil--an
application which is considered the best preservative of health in
children. Exposure of the mother in any shape, is most strictly
prohibited, and the use of certain indigenous drugs and warm
applications is made as an antidote against all diseases of a puerperal
character.
While undergoing the throes of nature, the exhausted spirit of the
expectant mother is buoyed up by the fond hope of having a _male_ child,
which, in the estimation of a Hindoo female, is worth a world of
suffering.
In the event of the offspring turning out a female, her friends try to
encourage her for the moment by their assurance that the child born is a
male, and a lovely and sweet child, ushered into the world under the
peculiar auspices of the goddess Shasthi. Such assurances serve very
much to keep up her spirit for the time being, but when she is brought
to her senses and does not hear the sound of a conch[9] her delusion is
removed, sorrow and disappointment take the place of joy and excitement,
her buoyant spirit collapses and a strong reaction sets in. Thus in a
moment, a grace is converted into a gorgon, a beauty into a monstrosity,
an angel into a fiend. She curses the day, she curses her fate. But
"such is the make and mechanism of human nature" that she soon resigns
herself to the wise dispensations of an overruling Providence. She
gradually feels a strong affection for the female child and rears it
with all the care and tenderness of a mother; she caresses and fondles
it as if it were a boy, and her affection grows warmer as the child
grows. This is natural and inevitable. At the birth of a male child, the
occurrence is immediately announced by _sanka dhani_ (sound of a conch);
musicians without being sent for, come and play the _tom tom_; the
family barber bears the happy tidings to all the nearest relatives, and
he is rewarded with presents of money and cloths. Oil, sweetmeats,
fishes, curdled milk, and other things, are presented to the relatives
and neighbours, who, in return, offer their congratulations. A rich
Hindoo, though he studies practical domestic economy very carefully, is,
however, apt to loosen his purse string at the birth of a son and heir.
The mother forgetting her trouble and agony implores _Bidhátá_[10] for
the longevity of the child. She cheerfully suckles it and her heart
swells with joy every time she looks at its face.
On the second day after delivery, she gets a little sago and _cheeray
vájáh_ (a sort of parched rice). On the third day the same diet, with
the addition of a single grain of boiled rice, and a little fried
potatoe or _pull bull_, that she may use those things afterwards with
safety. On the fifth day, if everything is right, the room is washed and
she is allowed to come out of it for a short time; a little boiled rice
and _moong dhall_ is her diet that day.
On the sixth day, the image of the goddess _Shasthi_ is worshipped in
front of the room where the child was born, because she is the
protectress of all children. The Poojah is called the _Seytayra_ Poojah
(worship). Offerings of rice, plantain, sweetmeat, clothes, milk, &c,
are presented to the goddess by the officiating priest, and the
following articles are kept in her room for the _Bidhátá Pooroosh_ (god
of fate) in order that he may note down unseen on the forehead of the
child its future destiny, _viz._, a palm leaf, a Bengalee pen with ink,
a serpent's skin, a brick from the temple of the god Shiva, and two
kinds of fruits, _atmora_ and _veyla_, a little wool, gold and silver.
On the eighth day is held the ceremony of _Autcowroy_, or the
distribution of eight kinds of parched peas, rice, sweetmeats, with
cowries and pice, amongst the children of the house and neighbourhood.
On the evening of that day, the children assemble and with a _Koolo_
(winnowing fan) going up three times to the door of the room beat it
(the koolo) with small sticks, asking at the same in a chorus "as to
how the child is doing," and shouting, "let it rest in peace on the lap
of its mother." These juvenile ceremonies, if ceremonies they can be
called, give infinite delight to the children, who are sometimes
prompted by the adult members of the family to indulge in jocularity by
way of abusing the father, not of course to irritate but to amuse him.
At the birth of a female child, in common with the depreciation in which
it is held, this ceremony is observed on a very poor scale. On the
thirty-first day after the birth, the ceremony of _Shasthi_ Poojah is
again performed. Hence a woman who has had as many as twelve or fifteen
or more children, is called the _Shasthi Booree_, or "the old woman of
Shasthi." Before a twig of a _Bátá_ tree, the priest, while repeating
the usual incantation, presents offerings of rice, fruits, sweetmeats,
cloths, parched peas and rice, oil, turmeric, betel, betel-nuts, two
eggs of a duck, and twenty-one small wicker baskets filled with _khoyee_
(parched rice) plantain and _bátásá_, which are all given to a number of
women whose husbands are alive. It is on this occasion that the priest
is also required to perform the worship of the goddess _Soobachinee_,[11]
said to be one of the forms of the goddess Doorga.
When the father first goes to see the child, he puts some gold coin into
its hand and pours his benediction on its head. Other relatives who may
be present at the time do the same.
All respectable Hindoos keep an exact record of the birth of a child,
especially a male child. Every family has its _Dowyboghee_ or astrologer
who prepares a horoscope in which he notes down the day, the hour and
the minute of the birth of the child, opens the roll of its fate and
describes what shall happen to it during the period of its existence.
These horoscopes are so much relied on, that if it is stated therein
that the stellar mansion under which the child was born was not good,
and that it shall be exposed to serious dangers, either from sickness
or accident, at such a period of its life, every possible care is taken
through _Grohojag_ and _Sustyan_ (religious atonement) to propitiate the
god of fate, and ward off the apprehended danger before it comes to
pass. These papers are carefully preserved by the parents, who
occasionally refer to them when anything, good or evil, happens to the
child. A Hindoo astrologer is a man of high pretensions; he dives into
the womb of futurity and foretells what shall happen to a man in this
life, without thinking for a moment, that our Creator has not vouchsafed
to us the powers of divination. In a court of justice these papers are
of great value in verifying the exact age of a person, and at the time
of marriage, or rather before it, they are carefully consulted as to the
nature of the stellar mansion under which both the boy and girl were
born, and the peculiar circumstances by which they were surrounded. Many
a match is broken off because the twelve signs in the zodiac do not
coincide; for instance, if the boy be of the _Lion rass_ (sign) and the
girl of the _Lamb rass_, the one, it is said, will destroy the other; so
these papers are of very great importance when a matrimonial alliance is
in course of being negotiated.
When a male child is six months old, the parents make preparations for
the celebration of the _Unnoprássun_, or christening, when not only a
name is given to the child, but it gets boiled rice for the first time.
On this occasion, the father is required to perform a _Bidhi Shrád_ so
called from the increase and preservation of the members of the family.
Some who live near Calcutta celebrate the rite by going to Kallee Ghaut,
and procuring a little boiled rice through one of the priests of the
sacred fane at a cost of eight or ten Rupees. When the rice is brought
home a few grains are put into the mouth of the child by a male member
of the family. The ceremony being thus performed the child from that day
is allowed to take prepared food if necessary. Such families as do not
choose to go to Kallee Ghaut observe the ceremony at home, and spend
from 200 to 300 Rupees in feeding the Brahmans, friends and relatives,
who, in return, offer their benediction and give from one to ten Rupees
each to the child, which being shaved, clad in a silk garment, and
adorned with gold ornaments, is brought out for the purpose after the
entertainment. It is on such occasions that splendid dowries are settled
on some children in grants of land or of Government securities, and I
have known instances in which a dowry amounted to a lakh of Rupees. Of
late years, the practice of making gifts to the child being held in the
obnoxious light of a tax, the good taste of some has led them to confine
the rite within the circumscribed limit of their own family.
Superstition has its influence in making the choice of the name given to
the child. The Hindoos are generally named after their gods and
goddesses, under a belief that the repetition of such names in the daily
intercourse of life will not only absolve them from sins, but give them
present happiness and hope of blessedness in a state of endless
duration. Some parents purposely give an unpleasant name to a child,
that may be born after repeated bereavements, believing thereby the
curses of the wicked shall fall innocuous on its head. Such names are
Nafar, Goburdhone, Ghooie, Tincurry, Panchcurry, Dookhi, &c. In the case
of females, she who has many daughters, and does not wish for more,
gives them such names as _Khaynto_ (cessation,) _Arná_ (no more,)
_Ghyrná_ (despised,) _Chee chee_ (expression of contempt.)[12]
Except under extraordinary circumstances, a Hindoo mother[13] seldom
engages a wet nurse; she continues to suckle her child till it is three
or four years old, and attends at the same time to her numerous
household duties, which are by no means light or easy. Indolent
loveliness, reclining on a sofa, is not a truthful picture of her life;
it may be she has to cook for her husband, because he is such an
orthodox Hindoo that he will on no account accept prepared food (such as
rice, dhall, vegetables, curry, &c.) from any other hand. In such
families, the woman has to rise very early, perform her daily ablutions
and attend to the duties of the kitchen, and before nine the breakfast
must be ready, as the husband has probably to attend his office at ten.
It is not an uncommon sight to see a woman cooking, suckling her child,
and scolding her maid servant at one and the same time. A Hindoo woman
is not only laborious, but patient and submissive to a degree; let the
amount of privation be ever so great, she is seldom known to murmur or
complain. All her happiness is centred in the proper discharge of her
domestic and social duties. So simple and unambitious is a Hindoo
female, that she generally considers herself amply rewarded if the food
prepared by her hands is appreciated by those for whom it is intended.
It is a lamentable fact that, expert as she doubtless is in the art of
cooking, she is totally incapable of nourishing the minds of her
children with any solid intellectual food worthy of the name. As already
indicated, she communicates to her child what she can out of her own
store of simple ideas and superstitious beliefs, but her best gift is
the care and tenderness which she lavishes upon it, and the wakening of
its young soul to return the sense of her own love.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] _Jhall_ is a preparation of certain drugs to act as an antidote
against cold, puerperal fever and other diseases incident to child
birth. It often proves efficacious. _Thap_ is the application of heat to
the body.
[8] For observances during the period of pregnancy, see Note A in
appendix.
[9] According to custom, a conch or large shell is sounded at the birth
of a male child. Its silence is the sign of sorrow.
[10] Bidhátá is the god of fate.
[11] For the popular story of the goddess Soobachinee see Note B.
[12] Apart from the horrid practice of female infanticide, now put a
stop to by a humane Government, many instances might be given of the
extreme detestation in which the birth of a girl is held even by her
mother. Among others I may cite the following: A woman who was the
mother of four daughters and of no son, at the time of her fifth
delivery laid apart one thousand Rupees for distribution among the poor
in the event of her getting a son, when, lo! she gave birth to a female
child _again_, and what did she do? she at once flung aside the money,
mournfully declaring at the same time, that "she has already four
firebrands incessantly burning in her bosom and this is the _fifth_,
which is enough to burn her to death."
[13] In cases where a woman is prolific enough to give birth to a child
every year she is placed under the necessity of weaning her first-born,
and giving it cow milk, a mode of sustenance not at all conducive to its
health.
III.
THE HINDOO SCHOOL BOY.
From the time when the young Hindoo passes from the infant stage of
"mewling and puking in the nurse's arms," till he goes to school, he is
generally a bright-eyed, active, playful boy, full of romping spirits
and a favourite of all around him. His diet is light, and his health
generally good. He usually runs about for three or four years _in puris
naturalibus_, and among the lower classes a string is tied round his
loins with a metal charm attached to frighten away the evil spirits.
When he attains the age of five, the period fixed by his parents for the
beginning of his education, he is sent to a _Pátsálá_ (vernacular infant
school) not, however, without making a Poojah to _Saraswattee_, the
goddess of learning. On the day appointed, and it must be a lucky day,
according to the Hindoo almanac, the child bathes and puts on a new
_Dhooty_ (garment) and is taken to the place of worship, where the
officiating priest has previously made all the necessary arrangements.
Rice, fruits, and sweetmeats, are then offered to the goddess, who is
religiously invoked to pour her benediction on the head of the child.
After this, the priest takes away all the things offered to the goddess,
with his usual gift of one or two rupees, and the child is taken by his
parents to the _Pátsálá_ and formally introduced to the
_Gooroomaháshoy_, or master of the school. Curious as little children
naturally are, all present gaze on the new comer as if he were a being
of a strange species. But time soon wears off the gloss of novelty and
everything assumes its normal aspect. The old boys soon become familiar
with the new one, and a sort of intimacy almost unconsciously springs up
amongst them. In this country a boy learns the letters of the alphabet,
not by pronouncing them, but by writing them on the ground with a small
piece of _kharee_, or soft stone, and copying them over and over again
until he thoroughly masters them. Five letters are set him at a time.
After this he is taught to write on palm leaves with a wooden pen and
ink, then on slate and green plantain leaves, and, finally, on paper. At
every stage of his progress he is expected to make some present to his
master in the shape of food, clothes and money. A village school begins
early in the morning, and continues till eleven, after which the boys
are allowed to go home for their breakfast; they return at two, and
remain in the school till evening, when all the boys are made to stand
up in a systematic order, and one of the most advanced amongst them
enumerates aloud the multiplication and numeration tables, and all are
taught to repeat and commit to memory what they hear. By the daily
repetition of these tables, their power of memory is practically
improved. With a view to encourage the early attendance of the boys, a
_Gooroomahashoy_ resorts to the queer method of introducing the
_hathchory_ system into his _Pátsálá_, which requires that all the boys
are to have stripes of the cane in arithmetical progression, on the
hand, in the order of their attendance, that is, the first comer to have
one stripe, the second two, and so on, in consecutive order. The last
boy is sometimes made to stand on one leg for an hour or so to the
infinite amusement of the early comers. The system certainly has a good
effect in ensuring early attendance.
The course of instruction in such schools embraces reading in the
vernacular, a little of arithmetic and writing, and such as become
capable of keeping accounts pass for the clever boys. Stupid and wicked
pupils are generally beaten with a cane, but their names are never
struck off the register, as is the case in English schools. Sometimes a
truant is compelled to stand on one leg holding up a brick in his right
hand, or to have his arms stretched out till he is completely exhausted.
Another mode of punishment consists in applying the leaves of _Bichooty_
(a stinging plant) to the back of a naughty boy, who naturally smarts
under the torturing. The infliction of such cruel punishments sometimes
leads the boys to make a combination against the master for the purpose
of retaliation, which generally results in bringing him to his senses.
Hindoo boys are extremely sensitive, and are very apt to resent any
affront to which they are cruelly subjected by their master.[14] The
rate of fee in a village school is from one to three-pence a head per
month, but the master has his perquisites by way of victuals and pice.
There is a common saying among the Hindoos that in twelve months there
are thirteen _parbuns_, or school festivals, implying thereby, that they
are encountered by a continuous round of _parbuns_. On every such
occasion the boys are expected to bring presents for the master, and any
unfortunate boy who fails to bring such is denied the usual indulgence
of a holiday. Little boys are seldom fond of reading, they would gladly
sacrifice anything to purchase a holiday. It is not an uncommon thing to
find a boy steal pice from his mother's box in order to satisfy the
demands of his master at the festival. The principle on which a village
school is conducted is essentially defective in this respect. Instead of
teaching the rules of good conduct and enforcing the first principles of
morality, it often sadly defeats the primary object of a good education,
namely, the formation of a sound, moral and virtuous character. It is a
disgrace to hear a schoolmaster, whose conduct should be the grand focus
of moral excellence, use the most vulgar epithets towards his pupils for
little faults the effects of which are seldom obliterated from their
minds, even in the more advanced period of their life. However, such
days of obnoxious pedagogism are almost gone by, never to come back
again, now that the system of primary education has been extended to
almost every village in India, under the auspices of our liberal
Government. Whilst on this subject I may as well state here that some
forty years ago our Government had appointed the late Rev. William Adam
to be the Commissioner of Education in Bengal. That highly talented and
generous philanthrophist, after a minute and searching investigation,
submitted in his report to Government a scheme of education very similar
to what is now introduced throughout Bengal. The scheme was then ignored
on account of its vast expense, and the Commissioner was so disheartened
at the apathy of Government towards the education of the masses, that a
few days before his departure from Calcutta he took a farewell leave of
some of his most distinguished native friends, and his parting words
were to the following effect: "Your Government is not disposed to
encourage those who are its real friends." This reproach has, however,
been subsequently removed by the adoption of a primary system of
education. The spirit of the times and the onward progress of
enlightened sentiments have gradually inaugurated a comprehensive
scheme, which, although still limited in its range, embraces the moral
and intellectual improvement of the people in general.
In Calcutta, when a boy is six years old, his parents are anxious to
have him admitted into one of the public schools, where he has an
opportunity to learn both the Vernacular and the English languages. He
may be said from that day to enter on the first stage of his
intellectual disintegration. The books that are put into his hands
gradually open his eyes and expand his intellect; he learns to discern
what is right and what is wrong; he reasons within himself and finds
that what he had learnt at home was not true, and is led by degrees to
renounce his old ideas. Every day brings before his mind's eye the grand
truths of Western knowledge, and he feels an irresistible desire, not
only to test their accuracy but to advance farther in his scholastic
career. He is too young however, to weigh well everything that comes in
his way, but as he advances he finds the light of truth illumine his
mind. His parents, if orthodox Hindoos, necessarily feel alarmed at his
new-fledged ideas and try to counteract their influence by the
stereotyped arguments, of the wisdom of our forefathers, but however
inimically disposed, they dare not stop his progress, because they see,
in almost every instance, that English education is the surest passport
to honor and distinction. In this manner he continues to move through
the various classes of the middle schools till he is advanced to one of
the higher educational institutions connected with the University, and
attains his sixteenth or seventeenth year, which is popularly regarded
as his marriageable age.
FOOTNOTES:
[14] _Apropos_, I may mention here the following incident. A few years
back a well-known master of the Hindoo school being placed in a very
awkward position, had to call in the aid of the Police to get himself
out of the difficulty. Sailors and Kaffries--always a set of desperate
characters--were retained by the boys for the purpose of insulting him
on the high road, but the timely interference of the Police put a stop
to the contemplated brutal assault. This had the effect of inducing the
master to behave in future with greater forbearance, if not with more
sober judgment. I forbear giving the name of the indiscreet, but
well-intentioned master, whose connection with the school had
contributed very largely to its efficiency and usefulness.
IV.
VOWS OF HINDOO GIRLS.
When a girl is five years of age, she is initiated by an elderly woman
in the preparatory rites of _Bratas_, or vows, the primary object of
which is to secure her a good husband, and render her religious and
happy throughout life. When the boy is sent to the Pátsálá, the girl is
commonly forbidden to read or write, but has to begin her course of
Bratas. The germs of superstition being thus early implanted in her
mind, she is more or less influenced by it ever after. Formed by nature
to be docile, pliant and susceptible, she readily takes to the initial
course of religious exercises.
The first rite with which she has to commence is called the "Shiva
Poojah," after the example of the goddess Doorga, who performed this
ceremonial that she might obtain a good husband; and Shiva is regarded
as a model husband. On the 30th day of Choytro, being the last day of
the Bengallee year, she is required to make two little earthen images of
the above goddess, and placing them on the coat of a bale-fruit (wood
apple) with leaves, she begins to perform her worship; but before doing
so, she is enjoined to wash herself and change her clothes, a
requisition which enforces, thus early, cleanliness and purity in habits
and manners, if not exactly in thought and feeling. Her mind being
filled with germinal susceptibilities, she imbibes almost instinctively
an increasing predilection for the performance of religious ceremonies.
Sprinkling a few drops of holy water on the heads of the images, she
repeats the following words: "All homage to Shiva, all homage to Shiva,
all homage to _Hara_, (another name of Shiva); all homage to Bujjara,"
meaning two small earthen balls, like peas, which are stuck on the body
of the images. She is then to be absorbed in meditation about the form
and attributes of the goddess, and afterwards says her prayers three
times in connection with Doorga's various names, which I need not
recapitulate here. Offerings of flowers and bale leaves are then
presented to the goddess with an incantation. Being pleased, Mahádev
(Shiva) is supposed to ask from heaven what Brata or religious ceremony
is Gouri (Doorga) performing? Gouri replies, she is worshipping Shiva,
that she may get him for her husband, because, as said before, Shiva is
a model husband.
Then comes the Brata of Hari or Krishna. The two feet of the god being
painted in white sandal paste on a brass plate, the girl worships him
with flowers and sandal paste. The god seeing this, is supposed to ask
what girl worships his feet, and what boon she wants? She replies: May
the prince of the kingdom be her husband, may she be beautiful and
virtuous, and be the mother of seven wise and virtuous sons and two
handsome daughters. She asks that her daughters-in-law may be
industrious and obedient, that her sons-in-law may shine in the world by
their good qualities, that her granary and farm-yard may be always full,
the former with corn of all sorts, and the latter with milch cows, that
when she dies all those who are near and dear to her may enjoy long life
and prosperity, and that she may eventually, through the blessing of
Hari, die on the banks of the sacred Ganges, and thereby pave the way
for her entrance into heaven.
It is worthy of remark here that even young Hindoo girls, in the
exercise of their immature discretion, make distinction between the gods
in the choice of their husbands. In the first Brata, that of Shiva, a
tender girl of five years of age is taught, almost unconsciously as it
were, to prefer him to Krishna for her husband, because the latter,
according to the Hindoo Shasters, is reputed to have borne a
questionable character. I once asked a girl why she would not have
Krishna for her husband. She promptly answered that that god disported
with thousands of Gopeenees (milk-maids) and was therefore not a _good_
god, while Shiva was devotedly attached to his one wife, Doorga. The
explanation was full of significance from a moral and religious point of
view.
The third Brata refers to the worship of ten images. This requires that
the girl should paint on the floor ten images of deified men, as well as
of gods, with _alapana_ or rice paste. Offering them flowers and sandal
paste, she asks that she may have a father-in-law like Dasarath, the
father of Ram Chunder; a mother-in-law like Kousala, the mother of Ram
Chunder; a husband like Ram Chunder; a _dayur_ or husband's brother,
like Luchmon, Ram's younger brother; a mother like Shasthi, whose
children are all alive; like Koontee whose three sons were renowned for
their love of justice, piety, courage and heroism; like Ganges, whose
water allays the thirst of all; like the mother earth, whose patience is
beyond all comparison. And, to crown the whole, she prays that she may,
like Doorga, be blessed with an affectionate and devoted husband like
Dropadi (the wife of the five Pandooas), be justly remarkable for her
industry, devotedness and skill in the culinary art, and be like Sita
(the wife of Ram Chunder) whose chastity and attachment to her husband
are worthy of all praise. The above three Bratas take place in the
Bengalee month of Bysack, (April) which is popularly regarded as a good
month for the performance of meritorious works. The prayer contained in
the above expresses the culminating female wish in entire accord with
the injunctions of the holy shaster, but how often are the amiable
qualities enumerated above set at naught in the actual conflicts of
life, in which the predominance of evil desires swallows up every
generous impulse!
The next Brata is called the _Sajooty_ Brata. It is solely intended to
counteract the thousand evils of polygamy--an unhealthy, unnatural
institution, which ought to be expunged from the midst of every
civilized community. Though God "has stamped no original characters on
our minds wherein we may read his being," still we can clearly discern
in His superior arrangements for the happiness of His creatures, that
this abnormal practice is directly opposed to His dispensations, so much
so that any one countenancing it, is guilty of a crime, for which, if he
is not amenable to an earthly tribunal, he is assuredly accountable to a
superior and superintending Being, the infringement of whose law is sure
to be attended with misery. To get rid of the consequences of this
monstrous evil, a girl of five years of age is taught to offer her
invocation to God, and in the outburst of her juvenile feeling is almost
involuntarily led to indulge in all manner of curses and imprecations
against the possible rival of her bed. Nor can we find fault with her
conduct, because "an overmastering and brooding sense" of some great
future calamity thus early haunts her mind.
In performing the _Sajooty Brata_, the girl paints on the floor with
rice paste a variety of things, such as the bough of a flower tree, a
Palkee containing a man and a woman, with the sun and moon over it, the
Ganges and the Jumna with boats on them, the temple of Mahadeo with
Mahadeo in it, various ornaments of gold and precious stones, houses,
markets, garden, granary, farm-yard and a number of other things, all
intended to represent worldly prosperity. After painting the above, she
invokes Mahadeo and prays for his blessing. An elderly lady more
experienced in domestic matters then begins to dictate, and the girl
repeats a volley of abuses and curses against her _Sateen_ or rival wife
in the possible future.
"There, stripped, fair rhetoric languished on the ground,
And shameful Billingsgate her robes adorn."
The following are a few of the specimens; I wish I could have
transcribed them in metre.:--
"_Barrey, Barrey, Barrey_ (a cooking utensil)
May _Sateen_ become a slave!
_Khangra, Khangra, Khangra_, (broomstick)
May _Sateen_ be exposed to infamy!
_Hatha, Hatha, Hatha_, (a cooking utensil)
May she devour her _Sateen's_ head!
_Geelay, Geelay, Geelay_ (a fruit)
May _Sateen_ have spleen!
_Pakee, Pakee, Pakee_ (bird)
May _Sateen_ die and may she see her from the top of her house!
_Moyna, Moyna, Moyna_ (bird)
May she never be cursed with a _Sateen_!"
May she cut an _Usath_ tree, erect a house there, cause her _Sateen_ to
die and paint her feet with her _Sateen's_ blood!
I might swell the list of these curses, but I fear they would prove
grating to the ears of civilized readers.
The performance of the _Sajooty Brata_ springs out of a desire to see a
_Sateen_ or rival wife become the victim of all manner of evils,
extending even to the loss of life itself, simply because a plurality of
wives is the source of perpetual disquietude and misery. By nature, a
woman is so constituted that she can never bear the sight of a rival
wife. In civilized countries, the evil is partially remediable by a
legal separation, but in Hindoostan the legislature makes no provision
whatever for its suppression. A feeling of burning jealousy becomes
rampant wherever there is a case of polygamy to poison the perennial
source of domestic felicity. So acutely sensitive is a Hindoo lady in
this respect that she would rather suffer the miseries of widowhood than
be cursed with the presence of a _Sateen_, whose very name almost
spontaneously awakens in her mind the bitterest and the most envenomed
feelings. She can make up her mind to give away a share of her most
valuable worldly enjoyments, but she can never give a share of her
husband's _affection_ to any one on earth. To enjoy the exclusive
monopoly of a husband's love is the life-long prayer of a Hindoo female.
She expresses it in the incipient stage of her girlhood, and practically
carries it with her until the last spark of life becomes extinct. This
certainly indicates the prompting of a very strong _natural_ feeling.
V.
MARRIAGE CEREMONIES.
The Hindoos have a strong belief that to solemnise the marriage of their
children at an early age, is a meritorious act as discharging one of the
primary obligations of life. They are, therefore, very anxious to have
their sons and daughters formally married during their own life-time.
Sometimes children are pledged to each other even in infancy, by the
mutual agreement of the parents; and in most cases the girl is married
when a mere child of from eight to ten years, all unconscious as yet of
the real meaning and obligations of the relation, although her girlish
fancies have been continually directed to it. Matches in the case of
good families are commonly brought about in the following way.
When an unmarried boy attains his seventeenth or eighteenth year,
numbers of professional men called _Ghatucks_ or match-makers come to
the parents with overtures of marriage. These men are destitute of
principle, they know how to pander to the frailties of human nature;
most of them being gross flatterers, endeavour to impose on the parents
in the most barefaced manner. As they live on their wits, their
descriptive powers and insinuating manners are almost matchless. When
the qualities of a girl are to be commended, they, indulging in a strain
of exaggeration, unblushingly declare, "she is beautiful as a full moon,
the symmetry of her person is exact, her teeth are like the seeds of a
pomegranate, her voice is remarkably sweet like that of the cuckoo, her
gait is graceful, she speaks like the goddess _Luckee_, and will bring
fortune to any family she may be connected with." The Hindoos have a
notion that the good fortune of a husband depends on that of the wife,
hence a woman is considered as an emblem of _Luckee_, the goddess of
fortune. This is the highest commendation she can possess.[15]
If the qualities of a youth are to be appraised, they describe him thus:
he is as beautiful as _Kartick_ (the god of beauty), his deportment is
that of a nobleman, he is free from all vices, he studies day and night,
in short, he is a precious gem and an ornament of the neighbourhood. The
Hindoos know very well that the _Ghatucks_ as a body are great
impostors, and do not believe half that these people say. From the day a
matrimonial alliance is proposed, the parents on both sides begin to
make all sorts of preliminary enquiries as to the unblemished nature of
the caste, respectability and position in society of the parties
concerned. When fully satisfied on these points, they give their verbal
consent to the proposed union, but not before the father of the boy has
demanded of the father of the girl a certain number of gold and silver
ornaments, as well as of _Barabharun_, _i. e._, silver and brass
utensils, couch, &c. exclusive of (with but few exceptions) a certain
amount of money in lieu of _Foolshajay_.[16] Before proceeding further,
I should observe that of late years a great change has taken place in
the profession of the _Ghatucks_. The question of marriage, though not
absolutely, yet chiefly, is a question the solution of which rests with
the females. Their voice in such matters has a preponderating influence.
Availing themselves of this powerful agency a new class of female
_Ghatucks_ or rather _Ghatkees_ have sprung up among the people. Hence
the occupation of the male _Ghatucks_ is nearly gone, except in rare
cases where nice points of caste distinction are to be decided. The
great influences of _Shibi Ghatkee_ and _Badnee's_ mother--two very
popular female _Ghatkees_,--is well known to the respectable Hindoo
community of Calcutta. These two women have made a decent fortune by
plying this trade. Though certainly not gifted with the imaginative
powers of a poetic bard of Rajpootana,[17] their suasive influence is
very telling. They have the rare faculty of making and unmaking matches.
From the superior advantage which their sex affords them, they have a
free access to the inner apartments of a house (even if it were that of
a millionaire)--a privilege their male rivals can never expect to enjoy.
When balked by the subtlety of a competitor in trade, by their bathos
they contrive to break a match. Their representations regarding a
proposed union seldom fail to exercise a great influence on the minds of
the Zenana females. Relying on the accuracy of their description, which
sometimes turns out exaggerated, if not false, the mother and other
ladies are often led to give their consent to a proposed union. The
husband, swayed by the counsel and importunity of his wife, is forced to
acquiesce in her choice. He cannot do otherwise because, as our friend,
Baboo Keshub Chunder Sen, has very facetiously observed, "man is a noun
in the objective case governed by the active verb woman."[18]
When a _Ghatkee_ comes up with the proposal of a matrimonial alliance
with an educated youth, the first question generally asked her is, "Has
he passed his examinations?" If so, how many _passes_ has he got?
meaning thereby how many examinations of the University has he passed
through? "Has he yet any Jalpany or scholarship?" These are difficult
questions which must be satisfactorily answered before a negotiation can
be effected. That a University degree has raised the marriageable value
of a boy, there can be no doubt. If he have successfully passed some of
these examinations and got a scholarship, his parents, naturally priding
themselves on their valuable acquisition, demand a preposterously long
catalogue of gold ornaments, which, it is not often in the power of a
family in middling circumstances easily to bestow. The parents of the
girl, on the other hand, seeing the long list, demur at first to give
their consent, but their demurring is of no avail; marry their daughter,
they must. The present ruinous scale of nuptial expenses must be
submitted to at any sacrifice, and after deep cogitation they send a
revised schedule, (as if marriage were a mere matter of traffic) taking
off from it some costly items, which would press heavily on the purse.
In this manner the _Ghatkee_ continually goes backwards and forwards for
some time, proposing concessions on both sides and holding out delusive
hopes of future advantages in the event of the carrying out of the
marriage. There is a trite saying among the Hindoos, that "a matrimonial
alliance could not be completed without uttering a lakh of words."
The parents of the girl on whose head falls the greatest burden, are
eventually made to succumb from a consideration of their having secured
a desirable match, namely, a _passed_ student. If not placed in affluent
circumstances, as is generally the case, they are obliged to raise the
requisite sum of money by loan, which sows, in many instances, the seeds
of much future embarrassment. At a very moderate calculation, a
tolerably respectable marriage now-a-days costs between two and three
thousand Rupees (about £200),--sometimes more. There is another native
adage which says, "we want twine for thatching and money for wedding." A
respectable Hindoo gentleman who has four or five daughters to give in
marriage and whose income is not large, is often reduced to the greatest
difficulty and embarrassment by reason of the extravagantly enormous
expenses of a marriage. The rich do not care much what they are required
to spend. All that they look for is a desirable match. It is the middle
and poorer classes, who form by far the largest aggregate of population
in every country, that suffer most severely from the present enhanced
scale of matrimonial charges. The late Rajah Rajkissen, Baboos Ramdoolal
Dey,[19] Nemy Churn Mullick and other Hindoo millionaires, spent
extraordinary sums of money on the marriage of their sons. The amount in
each instance far exceeded a lakh of Rupees. The annals of Rájasthan
furnish numerous instances of lavish expenditure, varying from five to
ten lakhs of Rupees and upwards, on the solemnization of nuptials. There
was a spirit of rivalry which animated the princes to surpass each other
in magnificence and splendour on such occasions, regardless alike of the
state of their exchequer, and the demoralizing effects of such conduct.
Marriages in such a magnificent style are seldom to be seen in Calcutta
now-a-days, not because of the distaste of the people for such
frivolities, but because of the lamentable decline and impoverishment of
the former magnates of the land. It is painful to contemplate that the
present scale of expenditure among the middle classes has been in an
inverse ratio to their income. The exertions made sometime ago by
Moonshee Peary Lall for the reduction of marriage expenses would have
doubtless conferred a lasting boon on the Hindoo community in general,
if the object had been crowned with success, but as the Legislature has
no control over such matters, relating as they do to purely private
affairs, the noble scheme resulted in failure. It is quite optional with
parties to go to heavy expenses on such occasions; no act of Government
without the voice of the people could restrain them in this respect. Any
social reform to be permanent and effectual must be carried out by the
universal suffrages of the people.
When the preliminaries of a marriage are settled, a person, on each
side, is deputed by turns to see the boy and the girl. It is customary
to see the girl first. When the friends of the bridegroom, therefore,
come for the purpose, they sit down in the outer apartment of the house,
whilst the bride is engaged in her toilet duty. After fifteen or twenty
minutes, she, glittering in jewels and accompanied by a maid servant as
well as by the _Ghatkee_, makes her appearance. The first thing she does
in entering the room is to make a _pranám_ or bow to all present, and
then she is asked to squat down on the clean white sheet spread on the
floor. A solemn pause ensues for a minute or so, when one of the
company, more officious than the rest, breaks the silence by putting to
her a few questions. She naturally feels herself somewhat out of her
element in the midst of so many strangers, and unconsciously shows a
sort of embarrassment even of self conflict almost distressing to
witness. This internal agitation of feeling, arising partly from modesty
and partly from anxiety, causes her even to stammer. Her engrossing
thought for the time being is, according to the early vow she has made,
that she may have a _good_ husband with lots of jewels. "What is your
name, mother?" is the first question. She may diffidently reply in a
half suppressed tone "_Gri Balla_." "Who is that sitting before
you?"--perhaps pointing to the girl's father. She says, "My father."
"Can you read and write?" If she say, "yes," she is asked to read a
little out of her book.
The _Ghatkee_ here plays the part of a panegyrist by admiring the
amiable qualities of the girl, who, she adds, is the very type of
_Luckee_ (the goddess of prosperity.) While this examination is going on
in the outer apartment, the anxious mother, whose heart beats with
throbbing sensations while watching the scene from behind a half closed
window, does not feel herself at ease, until she hears that her daughter
has acquitted herself creditably. Before the girl leaves the room, the
father or brother of the boy puts a gold mohur into her hand as a
tangible proof of approval and bids her retire. It is needless to say,
that she feels herself relieved, quite glad and free, when she again
sees the faces of her mother and sisters, whose joy returns with her
return.
This interview is called _pucca dheykha_ or the confirmatory visit. All
the Brahmins, _Ghatucks_ and _Ghatkees_, and other Koolins who may be
present on the occasion receive two or four Rupees each. The servants of
the house are not forgotten, they too receive each a Rupee. If this
interview take place in the morning, the parties return home without
breakfast, it being customary with them not to eat anything before
bathing and performing their daily worship. If in the evening, they are
treated to a good dinner consisting of the best fruits of the season,
sweet and sour milk and sweetmeats of various kinds. It is on such
ceremonious occasions, that the Hindoos make a display of their wealth
by serving the dinner to their new friends with silver salvers, plates,
glasses and _paundan_, (betel box). Almost every respectable gentleman
keeps a good assortment of these silver articles. They are, however,
reserved for special purposes, and used only on special occasions. As a
rule, the people are not fond of investing their money, like Europeans,
in plated-ware, because it is, comparatively speaking, of little
exchangeable value in times of need and distress.
It is now the turn of the boy to be examined in a similar way as to his
scholastic acquirements. When the father and the relatives of the girl
pay a return visit, they generally bring with them a graduate of the
University. Should the boy be one who has successfully passed the
Matriculation standard, he is not subjected to so strict an examination
as one who does not enjoy the same dignity. In both cases, however, they
must undergo some examination in English literature, composition,
grammar, history, &c. It is a noteworthy fact that a boy however
intelligent and expert in other respects, betrays a lamentable
deficiency, arising from diffidence, when required to undergo an
examination in the presence of his father-in-law and a University
graduate. The thought of failure acts as a heavy incubus on his mind. He
finds himself bewildered in a maze of confusion. If he do not actually
stammer, he talks at least very slowly and diffidently, and if called
upon to write, his hand shakes, and in fact he becomes extremely
nervous. After this trial is over, the boy retires with mingled feelings
of misgiving and complacence. He receives, however, in his turn a gold
mohur. The gentlemen who had come to see him are then asked to a dinner
in the way described above. The same display of silver-ware is made on
the occasion, and nearly the same amount of presents of money made to
the Brahmins, Koolins and others.
When both parties are satisfied as to the desirableness of the union, a
good day is fixed for drawing a _pattra_ or written agreement in which,
say, a Koolin of superior caste, engages in writing to give his son in
marriage with the daughter of either a second Koolin, or, as is often
the case of a Mowleek, an inferior in caste. This _Pattra_ is written by
a Brahmin on Bengallee paper with Bengallee pen and ink (as if English
writing materials would desecrate such a sacred contract) and must
consist of an odd number of lines, such as seven or nine lines. An
invocation of the Butterfly must head the _Pattra_, the purport of which
will run as follows: "I, Ram Chunder Bose, do engage to give my second
son, Gopeenauth Bose, in marriage with Nobinmoney Dossee, the eldest
daughter of Issen Chunder Dutt, who is also bound by his contract; the
marriage to be solemnized on a day to be named hereafter." Here the
signatures of both the fathers as well as of the witnesses follow. When
finished, it is rolled up in red thread. The _Koolin_ gentleman hands it
to the _Mowleek_ gentleman, when the latter embraces the former, and
gives him at the same time _Koola marjádá_ and _Pattra Darshanee_, as a
mark of respect for his superior caste,--or about fifty Rupees. The
articles required for the matrimonial contract are paddy, doov grass,
turmeric, betel leaf, betel-nuts, sandal paste, cowries (small shells)
and _alta_[20] all which are considered as conducive to the future
welfare of the boy[21] and girl. When the contract is religiously
ratified, a couple of conchs--one for the bridegroom and another for the
bride--are sounded by the females, announcing the happy conclusion of
this important preliminary, at which all hearts are exhilarated.
Arrangements are now being made for the dinner of all who may be present
at the time. Sometimes fifty to sixty persons are fed. Every care is
taken to provide a good dinner for the delectation of the guests and a
_Pattra_ on this scale costs from 300 to 400 Rupees. The Brahmins,
Koolins, and others, receive, as usual, presents of money and return
home replenished in body as well as in purse.
It is worthy of remark that though the distinction of caste still exerts
its influence on all the important concerns of our social and domestic
life, it is nevertheless fast losing its prestige in the estimation of
the enlightened Hindoos. In former days a Koolin occupied a prominent
position in society, be his character what it might, but now-a-days the
rapid spread of English education, and the manifold advantages derivable
from it, has practically impaired his influence and lowered his dignity.
A _Koolin_ who happens to be the father of a girl married to a
_Mowleek_, is, in the present day, degraded into the rank of his
traditional inferior, simply because he is the father of the girl; he
must even be prepared to submit to all sorts of humiliation and continue
to serve the _Mowleek_ father of the boy as long as the connection
lasts. At every popular festival for at least one year he must,
according to his rank, make suitable presents to his son-in-law, failing
which a latent feeling of discontent arises which eventually ripens into
bitter misunderstanding.
But to return to the marriage contract. After the entertainment, both
parties consult the almanac and fix a day for the ceremony, called
_Gátray haridrá_ or the anointment of the boy with turmeric. On that day
the bridegroom, after bathing and putting on a red bordered cloth,[22]
is made to stand on a grindstone surrounded by four plantain trees,
while five women (one must be of Brahmin caste) whose husbands are
alive, go round him five or seven times, anoint his body with turmeric,
and touch his forehead at one and the same time with holy water, betel,
betel-nuts, a _Sree_ made of rice paste in the shape of a sugarloaf, and
twenty other little articles consisting of several kinds of peas, rice,
paddy, gold, silver, &c. From this day, the boy carries about a pair of
silver nut-crackers, and the girl a pair of _kajulnatha_,[23] which must
remain with them till the solemnization of the nuptials, for the purpose
of repelling evil spirits. A little of the turmeric paste with which the
body of the bridegroom was anointed is sent by the family barber to the
bride in a silver cup, her body is also anointed with it. A number of
other gifts follow, namely, a large brass vessel of oil, various kinds
of perfumery, three pieces of cloth (one must be a richly embroidered
Benares _saree_, one Dacca, and the other red bordered), a small carpet,
a silk musnud with pillows, two mats, some gold trinkets for the head, a
few baskets of sweetmeats, some large fishes, sweet and sour milk, and a
few garlands of flowers, &c., all which cost from two to three hundred
Rupees, or sometimes more. A rich man sometimes gives a pair of diamond
combs and flowers for the hair, of the value of two thousand Rupees and
upwards. From this, an idea may be formed as to the lavish expenditure
of the Hindoos on marriages, even in these hard times. A _few_ can
afford it, but the _many_ are put to their wits'-end in meeting the
demands thus made upon them.
Two or three days after the ceremony of anointment, the Bengali almanac
is again consulted, and a lucky day is appointed for the celebration of
_Ahibarrabhàt_, so called from its being a feast given just before the
wedding. On this occasion the father of the bridegroom gives a grand
entertainment to the male relatives of the family. As a counterpart to
the same the father of the bride gives a similar entertainment to the
female relatives of his own family, with this difference only, that in
the case of the former no Palkees are required, whereas in the case of
the latter these covered conveyances have to be engaged for bringing in
the females. In either case the number of guests generally varies from
two to three hundred, and as the present style of living among the
Hindoos in the metropolis has become more expensive than that which
prevailed in the good old days, partly from a vain desire to make an
ambitious display of wealth, and partly from the unprecedentedly rapid
increase of the population, which has, as a necessary sequence,
considerably raised the prices of all kind of provisions, an
entertainment of this nature costs from four to five hundred Rupees on
each side. The very best kinds of _loochees_, _kocharees_, vegetable
curries, fruits, sweetmeats[24] and other delicacies of the season are
to be provided for this special occasion.
English friends are often invited to the marriages of rich families in
Calcutta and regaled with all sorts of delicacies from the Great Eastern
Hotel. "The family mansion is splendidly furnished and brilliantly
illuminated. There is literally a profusion of pictures and chandeliers.
All the furniture and surroundings are indicative more of an English
than of a Native house. Dancing girls are hired to impart _eclât_ to the
scene. A _nabat_ covered with tinsel is put up in front of the house,
where native musicians play at intervals, much to the satisfaction of
the mother of the bridegroom and the boys of the neighbourhood, and a
temporary scaffolding made of bamboos and ornamental paper is erected on
the highway in the form of a crescent bearing on it the inscription,
"God save the bridegroom." Male and female servants receiving presents
of gold and silver bangles move about the house gaily dressed in red
uniform, or clothes. As tangible memorials of the happy union, presents
of large brass pots, with oil, plates with sweetmeats, fruits, and
clothes, &c., are largely distributed among the Brahmins and numerous
friends and relatives of the family. This present is called _Samajeek_.
With the exception of Brahmins, who are content with offering hollow
benedictions, in which the sacerdotal class, as a rule, is so very
liberal, everyone else who receives them makes in return presents of
clothes and sweetmeats, the nearest relatives making the most costly
ones. In times of great _loganshá_, _i. e._, when numerous marriages
take place, the demand for clothes and sweetmeats is really enormous.
Dealers in those things make a harvest of profit and "the town becomes a
jubilee of feasts."
During the night preceding the marriage, the women of both the families
scarcely sleep, being busily engaged in making all sorts of preparations
for the next day. Very early in the morning, five _Ayows_, or females
whose husbands are alive, take with them a light, a knife, a _Sree_, a
_Brundálá_, containing sundry little articles, described before, a small
brass pot, some sweetmeats, _choora_ and _moorkee_, oil, betel,
betel-nuts and turmeric, and go to the nearest tank, sounding a conch,
and touching the water with the knife, fill the brass pot with water.
The above articles being presented as an offering to the brass pot, the
females receive a portion of the eatables and return home sounding the
conch, which is a necessary accompaniment of all religious ceremonies.
What I am now about to describe may be called the _first_ marriage,
because it is invariably followed by a second ceremonial when the union
is really consummated. But it properly forms the binding ceremony, as
constituting the marriage relative between the two youthful parties,
with all its legal and social rights, even if they should not be spared
to live together as husband and wife.
The emptiness and superficiality of the relation, especially on the side
of the childish bride, will be but too apparent, and is but too often
realised in this uncertain life, in the prolonged misery of a virgin
widowhood. On the day of the marriage both the bridegroom and the bride
are forbidden to eat anything except a little milk and a few fruits. The
father of the bride also fasts, as well as the officiating priests of
the two families.
About twelve o'clock in the day, the Mowleek family sends presents of
clothes, sweetmeats, fishes, sour and sweet milk and some money, say
about twenty-five rupees, to the house of the Koolin family, as a mark
of honor to the latter, to which, from his superior caste he is fairly
entitled. This present is called _Adhibassy_. Both the fathers are also
required during the day to perform the ceremony of _Nannimook_ or
_Bidhishrad_,--a ceremony, the meaning of which, as said before, is to
make offerings to the manes of ancestors, and to wish for the increase
and preservation of progeny.
After the performance of the above ceremonies, both the bridegroom and
the bride putting on new red bordered _dhooty_ and _saree_ respectively
at their several houses, are made to bathe; and five women whose
husbands are alive touch their foreheads with sundry little things, as
mentioned before. They have afterwards to go through a few minor rites
which are purely the inventions of the females, not being at all
enjoined in the _Shásters_. It is obvious that the primary object of all
these female rites is to promote conjugal felicity. Strange as it may
appear, it is nevertheless a fact that the mother of the bridegroom eats
_seven_ times (of course but little at a time) that day through a fear
lest the bride, when she comes, will give her but scanty meals,[25]
while the mother of the bride does not eat anything until the marriage
ceremony is over, being impressed with a notion that the more she fasts
the more she will get to eat afterwards.
The females on the side of the bride, with the help of a matron,
exercise their utmost ingenuity, and literally rack their brains, in
devising all manner of contrivances partaking of the character of charms
to win the devoted attachment of the bridegroom towards the lovely
little bride. They resort to numerous petty tricks for the purpose which
are too absurd and childish to be dwelt upon. Credulous as they
naturally are, and simple as they are known to be in their habits, not
to speak of the normal weakness of their intellect, they fondly imagine
that their _thook thak_ or trick is sure to triumph and produce the
desired effect. To give an instance or two. They write down in red ink
on the back of the _Peray_, or wooden seat on which the bride is to sit,
the names of twenty-one uxorious husbands, and go round the bride seven
times. They also write the name of the goddess, Doorga, on the silk
_saree_ or garment which the bride is to wear at the time of the
marriage ceremony, because Shiva, her husband, was excessively fond of
her. They place before her the _Chundi Pooty_, a sacred book treating of
Doorga and Shiva, while her mouth is filled with two betel-nuts to be
afterwards chewed with betel by the bridegroom unawares. Meantime active
preparations are made on both sides for the auspicious solemnization of
the nuptials. At the house of the bridegroom, arrangements are being
made for illumination and fireworks, and the grand _Nacarras_ announce
the approaching departure of the procession. Fac-similes of mountains
and peacocks are made of colored paper spacious enough to accommodate a
dozen persons; hundreds of _Khás gaylap_ and silver staves are seen on
the roadside; groups of songsters and musicians are posted here and
there to give a passing specimen of the vulgar songs of the populace; a
_Sookasun_ or bridegroom's seat elegantly fitted up is brought out with
two boys gaily dressed to fan the bridegroom with _chamurs_;[26]
hundreds of blue and red lights are distributed among the swarthy
coolies, who are to use them on the road when the procession moves. The
bridegroom, being washed, is helped to put on a suit of superbly
embroidered Benares _kinkob_ dress, with a pearl necklace of great
value, besides bangles and armlets set in precious stones and garlands
of flowers. Durwans and guards of honor are paraded in front of the
house; and in short, nothing is left to impart an imposing appearance to
the scene. As has been already observed, there is a growing desire among
the Hindoos to imitate English manners and fashions. A marriage
procession is considered quite incomplete unless bands of English
musicians are retained, and a cavalcade of troopers like a burlesque of
the Governor-General's Body Guard is seen to move forward to clear the
way. A Cook's carriage with a postillion is not unfrequently observed to
supersede the old _Sooksun_, or gilt Palkee.
Before the bridegroom leaves his house he says his prayer to the goddess
Doorga, and makes his preparatory _jattrá_ (departure). At this time his
mother asks him, "_Baba_ where are you going?" He answers, "To bring in
your _Dassee_ or maid-servant." Before leaving he receives from her a
few instructions as to how he should conduct himself at the house of his
father-in-law. He is to gaze on the stars in heaven, keep his feet half
on the ground and half on the wooden seat when engaged in performing a
ceremony, and not to use any other betel but his own. The object of
these instructions is to thwart the intention of his mother-in-law that
he may become a uxorious husband, a wish in which his mother does not
share at all, because it is calculated to diminish his regard for her.
In the majority of cases the wish of the mother-in-law prevails over
that of the mother, as is quite natural.
He has next to perform the rite of _Kanakángoolee_, surrounded by all
the women of the family. A small brass plate containing rice, a small
wooden pot of vermilion, and one Rupee, are thrown right over his head
by his father into the _Saree_, or robe of his mother, who stands behind
him for the purpose of receiving the same. This is a signal for him to
come out, and if all arrangements are complete, take his seat on the
bridal _Sookasun_, or carriage. The procession moves forward amid the
increasing darkness. One or two European constables march ahead. The
usual cortége of stalwart durwans follow. The torches and flambeaus are
lighted. The _Khasgalabullahs_ are ranged on both sides of the road; in
the midst are placed bands of native and English musicians. Parties of
songsters in female dress begin to sing and dance on the _Moworpunkhee_,
borne on the shoulders of coolies. The flaring torches are waved around
the procession. Blue and red lights are flashed at intervals. Noise,
confusion, and bustle ensue. Men, women and children all flock to see
the támáshá. Mischievous boys try to rob the lights. And to lend, as it
were, an enchantment to the scene, gay Baboos in open carriages, in
their gala dresses bring up the rear. It is on such occasions that
modest beauties and newly-married brides (_bahus_) come out from the
Zenana, and, unveiling their faces, rise on the tops of their houses on
both sides of the road, in order to feast their eyes on all the pompous
accompaniments of a marriage exhibition. As soon as the procession
arrives near the house of the bride, the people of the neighbourhood
assemble in groups to have a sight of the lord of the day, and four or
five gentlemen of the party of the bride advance to welcome the
bridegroom and his party of friends, who enter, receiving the stares of
the idle and the salutations of the polite. The barber of the family
brings out a light in a _sará_ (earthen vessel) and places it on the
side of the road. Decency forbids me to mention certain of its
constituents.
As the initiatory rite of the auspicious event, the females blow the
conch-shell in the inner apartment, and some more impatient than the
rest peep through the latticed corridor or window, while the bridegroom
is slowly conducted to his appropriate seat made up of red satin with
embroidered fringes, having three pillows of the same stuff on three
sides. An awning is suspended over the spacious compound, and it is
splendidly illuminated with gas lights. Polite and complimentary
expressions of good wishes and of refined native etiquette are exchanged
on both sides, comparing favorably with the rude manners of past times.
"Come in, come in, gentlemen, and sit down, please," is the general cry.
"Bring tobacco, bring tobacco, for both Brahmin's and Soodras," is the
next welcome expression. Boys, especially the brother-in-law of the
bridegroom, now bring him a couple of betel-nuts, to be cut with the
pair of nut-crackers he holds in his hand. He objects and hesitates at
first, but no excuse is admitted, no plea heard, he must cut them in
the best way he can.[27] When all the guests are properly seated,
numbers of school boys sit face to face and begin to wrangle, much to
the amusement of the assemblage. As English education is now all the
"go" among the people, questions in spelling, grammar, geography and
history, are put to each other. The following may be taken as a
specimen: Aushotosh asks Bholanauth, "In what school do you read?"
Bholanauth answers, "In the Hare School." A. continues, "What books do
you read?" B. enumerates them.
A. asks, "What is your pedagogue's name?" B., a little confounded,
remains quiet, meditating within himself what could a _pedagogue_ mean.
A. drawing nearer, asks him to spell the word, housewife? B. answers,
"h-u-z-z-i-f." A. laughs heartily in which he is joined by other boys.
Continuing the chain of interrogations, he asks B. to parse the
sentence: "To be good is to be happy." B. hanging down his head,
attempts, but fails. "Where is Dundee, and what is it famous for?" B.
answers, "Dundee is in Germany." (laughter): A. pressing his adversary,
continues, "What was the cause of the Trojan war?" B. answers
hesitatingly, "The golden fleece!" Thus discomfited, B. takes refuge in
ignoble silence, while A., in a triumphant mood, moves prominently
forward amidst the plaudits of the assembled multitude. "Long live
Aushotosh," is the universal blessing.
Here two or three professional genealogists, having tunics on their
bodies and turbans on their heads, stand up, and in measured rhyme
recite the genealogical table of the two families now affianced,
blazoning forth the meritorious deeds of each succeeding generation.
They keep a regular register of all the aristocratic Hindoo families,
especially of the Koolin class, and at respectable marriages they are
richly rewarded. It is quite amusing to hear how seriously they rehearse
the virtuous acts of the ancestors, carefully refraining from making any
allusion to disreputable acts of any kind. Though not like Chundá, the
inimitable bard and pole-star of Rajasthan, as Colonel Tod says, their
services are duly appreciated by all orthodox Hindoos, who exult in the
glowing recital of ancestral deeds. Their language is so guarded and
flattering that it can offend nobody, except such as do not reward them.
Having the genealogical table in their possession they can easily turn
the good into bad, and _vice versa_, to serve their own selfish ends. An
upstart, or one who has a family stain, pays them liberally to have his
name inserted in the genealogical register, and to be mentioned in
laudatory terms.
In the _Thakoor dhallan_, or chamber of worship, all preparations for
the solemnization of nuptials are now made. The couch-cot, beddings,
carpet, embroidered and wooden shoes--here English shoes will not
do--gold watch with chain, diamond ring, pearl necklace, and one set of
silver and one set of brass utensils,[28] are arranged in proper order,
and flowers, sandal-paste, dooav grass, holy water in copper pans, and
khoosh grass, are placed before the priests of both parties. The
bridegroom, laying aside his embroidered robe, is dressed in a red silk
cloth, and taken to the place of worship, where the bride, also attired
in a silk _Saree_, veiled and trembling through fear, is slowly brought
from the female penetralia on a wooden seat borne by two servants and
placed on the left side of the bridegroom. The agitation of her internal
feelings when brought before the altar of Hymen is greatly soothed by
the wealth of gold ornaments--the _summum bonum_ of her existence with
which her person is adorned. The officiating priest puts into the hands
of the bridegroom fourteen blades of khoosh grass in two small bundles
which he winds and ties round his figures. The priest then pours a
little holy Ganges water into the bridegroom's right hand, which he
holds while the father-in-law repeats a _mantra_ or incantation, at the
close of which he lets it fall. Rice, flowers and doorva grass are next
given him, which he lays near the copper pan containing the holy water.
Water is presented as at first with a prayer, and sour milk, then again
water. The officiating priest now directs him to put his hand into the
copper pan, and placing the hand of the bride on that of the bridegroom
ties them together with a garland of flowers, when the father-in-law
says: "Of the family of Goutam, the great grand-daughter of Ram Churn
Bose, the grand-daughter of Bulloram Bose, the daughter of Ramsoonder
Bose, wearing such and such clothes and jewels, I, Dwarkeynath Bose,
give to thee, Oma Churn Dutt, of the family of Bharadáz, the great
grandson of Dinnonath Dutt, the grandson of Shib Churn Dutt, the son of
Jodonauth Dutt." The bridegroom says, "I have received her." The
father-in-law then takes off the garland of flowers with which the hands
of the married pair were bound, and pouring some holy water on their
heads, pronounces his benediction. A piece of silk cloth called _Lajá
bustur_, is then put over the heads of the boy and girl, and they are
asked to look at each other _for the first time in their lives_. While
the marriage ceremony is being performed the boy is made to wear on his
head a conical tinsel hat. Here the barber of the bridegroom gives to
the priest a little _Khoye_ (parched rice) and a little ghee, which are
offered with doorva grass to the god Brahma. A very small piece of
coarse cloth called _gatchará_, or knotted cloth, containing in all
twenty-one myrobolans, _boyra_ fruit and betel-nuts, is tied to the
silk _dhobja_ or scarf of the bridegroom, which is fastened again to the
silk garment of the bride, thus symbolising a union never to be severed.
The married couple are then taken into the inner court where the females
are waiting on the tiptoe of expectation, wreathed for a moment in the
rapturous embraces of one another. As soon as the boy appears, or rather
before his appearance, conch-shells are again blown, and he is made to
stand on a stone placed under a small awning called _chádláhtalah_, a
temporary shed, surrounded on four sides by plantain trees. By way of
merriment, some females greet him with _hayeumllah_ mixed in treacle,
some pull his ears, notably his sisters-in-law, while matrons cry out
"_ulu, ulu, ulu_," sounds indicative of excessive joy. It would require
the masterly pen of a Sir Walter Scott to adequately delineate the
joyous feelings of the females on such an auspicious occasion.
The bridegroom is made to wear on his ten fingers ten rings made of
twigs of creepers, and his hands are tied by a piece of thread as long
as his body. Putting betwixt them a weaver's shuttle, the mother-in-law
says, "I have bound thee by thread, bought thee with cowries, and put a
shuttle betwixt thy hands, now bleat thou like a lamb,[29] Bapoo,"--a
term of endearment. She also closes his mouth by touching his lips with
a padlock, and symbolically sewing the same with twenty-one pins, that
he may never scold the girl; touches his nose with a slender Bamboo pipe
and breaks it afterwards, throws over his body treacle and rice, as well
as the refuse of spices pounded on a grindstone, which has been kept
covered with a bag for eight days, are alive, by two females whose
husbands and finally touches his lips with honey and small images made
of sugar, that he may ever treat his wife like a _sweet_ darling.
Afterwards the mother-in-law with several other married women, adorned
with all their costly ornaments and dressed in their best attire, touch
his forehead with _Sree_, _Barandàllà_ a winnowing fan, plantain, betel
and betel-nuts; and here the silk scarf of the boy, of which mention has
been made before, is again more closely fastened to the silk garment of
the girl, and kept with her for eight days, after which it is returned,
accompanied by presents of sweetmeats, fishes and curdled milk. These
puerile rites, purely the invention of females, are intended to act as
charms for securing the love and affection of the husband for his wife.
The wish is certainly a good one, but often the agencies employed fail
to produce the desired effect! "Charms strike the sight, but merit wins
the soul." Before the marriage ceremony is concluded, the boys of the
neighbourhood make the usual demand of _Gramva[t.]i_ and _Barawari_ Poojah.
At first in a polite way they ask the father of the bridegroom for the
gift. He offers twenty Rupees, but they insist on having one hundred
Rupees. After some altercation in which sometimes high words and
offensive language are made use of,[30] the matter is eventually settled
on payment of thirty-two Rupees. This money is used in giving a feast to
the boys of the neighbourhood, reserving a portion for the _Barawari_
poojah,--a mode of worship which will be more fully treated in another
place.
As an epilogue to the nuptial rite, the bridegroom continues to stand on
a stone, while two men setting the bride on a wooden seat, and lifting
her higher than his head, makes three circumambulations, asking the
females at the same time who is taller, the bridegroom or the bride? The
stereotyped response is, "the bride." This being done, the females
throwing a piece of cloth over the heads of both, desire them to glance
at each other with all the fond endearments of a wedded pair. As is to
be expected, the coy girl, almost in a state of trepidation, casts but a
transient look, and veils her face instanter; but the boy, young as he
is, feels inwardly happy to view the lovely face of his future wife.
This look is called _Shoovádristi_ or "the auspicious sight" which is
held in the light of a harbinger of future felicity.
The bridegroom returns to the _Thacoordhallan_ or place of worship and
performs the concluding part of the marriage ceremony, while the
officiating priest, repeating the usual incantation, presents the burnt
offerings (_home_) to the gods, which is the finale of the religious
part of the rite.[31] But before the bridegroom leaves the place of
worship, the officiating priests of both sides must have their _dackiná_
or pecuniary reward. If the boy be of the Mowleek caste and the girl of
the Koolin caste, the former must give double what the latter gives, _i.
e._, 16 Rupees and 8 Rupees. Here, as in every other instance, the
superiority of caste asserts its peculiar privileges. The professional
genealogists, after concluding their recitation and singing their
epithalamiums, also come in for their share of the reward, but they are
generally told to wait till the next day, when in common with other
Ghatacks they receive their recompense. The bridegroom is then permitted
to have a little breathing time, after having undergone the infliction
of so many religious and domestic rites, which latter formed the special
province of the females.
The head of the family now stands up before the assembly, and asks their
permission to go through the ceremony of _Mala Chandan_, or the
distribution of sandaled garlands. This is done to pay them the honor
due to their rank. The _Dullaputty_, or the head of the order or party,
almost invariably receives the first garland, and then the assembled
multitudes are served. For securing this hereditary distinction to a
family, large sums of money have been spent from time to time by
millionaires who, by the favorable combination of circumstances, had
risen from an obscure position in life to a state of great affluence.
The late Rajah Rajkissen Bahadoor, Baboos Ram Doolal Dey, Kisto Ram
Bose, Modun Mohun Dutt, Santi Ram Singh, Ram Rutton Roy and others,
expended upwards of a lakh of Rupees, or £10,000, each for the
possession of the enviable title of _Dullaputty_, or head of a party.
The way by which this noble distinction was secured was to induce
first-class Koolins, by sufficient pecuniary inducements, to intermarry
into the families of the would-be _Dullaputty_. The generally
impoverished condition of the old aristocracy of the land, and the
onward march of intellect teaching the people to look to sterling merit
for superiority in the scale of Society have considerably deteriorated
the value of these artificial distinctions. The progress of education
has opened a new era in the social institutions of the country, and an
enlightened proletariat is now-a-days more esteemed than an empty
titled _Dullaputty_, the magnitude of whose social status is not to be
estimated by the numbers of Koolins he is connected with, but by the
extent and character of his services to society.
The bridegroom next dines with his friends outside, notwithstanding the
importunities of the females for him to dine in their presence in the
inner apartment, that they might have an opportunity to indulge in
merriment at his expense. As a rule, the Brahmins dine first, and then
the numerous guests and attendants, numbering sometimes one thousand.
Despite the precaution of the friends of the bride to prevent unwelcome
intrusion, from a natural apprehension of running short of supplies,
which, on such occasions, are procured at enormous cost, many uninvited
persons in the disguise of respectable looking Baboos contrive somehow
or other to mingle in the crowd and behave with such propriety as to
elude detection. The proportion of male intruders is larger than that of
female ones, simply because the latter, however barefaced, cannot
entirely divest themselves of all modesty. It would not be above the
mark to put down the number of the former at twenty per cent. Such men
are professional intruders; they are entirely devoid of a sense of self
respect, and lead a wretched, demoralized life. Foreigners can have no
idea of the extent to which they carry on their disreputable trade,
including in their ranks some of the highest Brahmins of the country. It
is not an uncommon sight, on such occasion, to behold numbers of people
depart after dinner with bundles of _loochees_ (fine edibles) and
sweetmeats in their hands, which _methránees_[32] threaten to touch and
defile.
When full justice has been done to the feast provided for the occasion,
the crowd melts away and streams out at the door, well pleased with the
reception they have had. It is much easier to satisfy men than women in
this respect. The latter are naturally fastidious, and the least
shortcoming is sure to be found fault with. When confusion and bustle
subside, the bridegroom is slowly conducted into a room in the inner
apartment which bears the euphonious name of _Básurghur_, the
bed-chamber of the happy pair, or rather the store-house of jokes and
banter, where are grouped together his wife, his mother-in-law,[33] and
the whole galaxy of beauty. The very name of _Basarghur_[34] suggests to
the female a variety of ideas at once amusing and fascinating. As I have
already observed, she, nursed from her cradle in a state of perfect
seclusion, and immersed in all the drudgeries of a monotonous domestic
life, is glad of any opportunity to share in the unreined pleasure of
joviality. The mother-in-law, throwing aside conventional restraint,
introduces herself, or is introduced by other women, to her son-in-law.
They pull the poor lad's ears, in spite of her earnest protestation, and
if they do not know what flirtation is, they assail him with jokes
which quite puzzle him and bewilder his senses. They burst into roars of
laughter and make themselves merry at his expense; he feels himself
almost helpless and unprepared to make a suitable repartee, and is at
length driven into all manner of excuses, as plausible reasons for a
brief respite and a short repose. He complains of headache occasioned by
the lateness of the hour; as a sure remedy they give him soda, ice,
eau-de-cologne, and almost bathe him in rose-water; but a soporific they
can on no account allow him, because it would mar their pleasure and
sink their lively spirits. Keeping up their jokes, they place the lovely
bride with all her gold trappings on his knee, and unveiling her face
ask him to look at it, and say whether or not he likes her; she closes
her eyes, moves and jerks to have the veil dropped down, but her sisters
yield not to her wish, and keeping her yet unveiled, repeat the
question. Of course he makes no reply, but blushes and hangs down his
head; their demand being imperative, he sees no other alternative, but
to gently reply in the affirmative. They next make the girl bride, much
against her inclination, lie down by his side; as often as she is
dragged so often she draws back, but yielding at last to the admonition
of her mother, she is constrained to lie down, because, on that night,
this form is strictly enjoined in the female shaster. The innocent girl,
unconscious of the absurd mirth, shrinking together, turns away, and
occasionally whimpering, passes the sleepless, miserable hours. The dawn
of morning is to her most welcome, although it affords her but a
temporary relief. As the first glimpse of light is perceived, she flies
into the bosom of her aunt, who tries to animate her drooping spirit by
a word or two of solace, citing perhaps at the same time the example of
Surrajiney, her elder sister, placed in a similar position three years
ago. The women referred to remain in the _Basarghur_. As a matter of
course aged women go to sleep faster than young sprightly girls of
sweet seventeen, who are bent on making the best of the occasion by
indulging in jokes and witticisms. They literally rack their brains to
outwit the bridegroom by their _thátá_ and _támáshá_ (jokes), and their
stock of it seems to be almost inexhaustible. They contrive to make him
chew the same beera or betel which is _first_ chewed by the bride, and
if he be obstinate enough to refuse it, in obedience to the warning of
his mother, which is often the case, four or five young ladies open out
his lips, and thrust the chewed betel into his mouth. What young man
would be so ungallant as to resist them after all? He must either submit
or bear the opprobrium of a foolish discourteous boy. Thus the whole
night is passed in the banter and practical joking peculiar to the
idiosyncracy of the Hindoo females. When in the morning he attempts to
get away from their company, one or two ladies, notably his _salees_, or
sisters-in-law hold him fast by the skirt of his silk garment demanding
the customary present of _Sarjaytollánee_.[35] He sends a message to his
man outside, and gets thirty two or fifty Rupees, on payment of which
they are satisfied and permit him to go. After a short respite he is
again brought into the inner apartment, and after shaving, bathing and
changing his clothes, he is made to go almost through the same course of
female rites as he had to perform on the preceding night, with this
difference only, that no officiating priest is required to help on the
occasion. This rite is named _Bassi Bibáha_ (not new marriage), all the
ceremonials being conducted by the females. It would be tedious to
inflict on the reader a recapitulation of the same, but suffice it to
say, that in all the primary pervading principle is plainly perceptible,
namely, the long life and conjugal felicity of the happy pair. It is a
remarkable fact that in the opinion of the Hindoo females the wider the
circle of matrimonial ceremonies, the greater the chance of securing the
favor of Hymen. At the conclusion, the boy and girl are directed to say
that they have passed the state of celibacy and entered on that of
matrimony. "Marriage is honorable in all and the bed undefiled."
As morning advances, the bridegroom walking, and the bride in the arms
of her relative, are next brought into a room--the women blowing the
conch and sprinkling water,--and made to sit near each other. They then
play with cowries, (shells) the girl is told to take up _a few_ cowries
in her left hand and put them near the boy, while on the other hand the
boy is told to take up as _much_ as his right hand can contain and put
them before the girl, the meaning of which is, that the girl would spend
sparingly and the boy give her abundantly. They then play with four very
small earthen pots, called _mooglivhur_, filled with rice and peas; the
girl first opens the lids of the pots and throws the contents on a
_Koolo_, (winnowing fan) the boy takes it up and fills the pots, the
girl slowly puts the lids on and inaudibly repeats the name of her
husband for the first time,[36] expressing a hope that by the above
process she stops his mouth and curbs his tongue, that he may never
abuse her. As the first course of breakfast, fruits and sweetmeats are
served to the bridegroom and the bride. He eats a little and is
requested to offer a portion of the same to his wife, whose modesty
forbids her to accept any in his presence, but the earnest importunities
of the nearest of kin overcome her shyness, and she is at length
prevailed upon to taste a little which is offered her by the hand of her
husband, the females expressing a desire at the same time that she may
continue to eat from the same hand to the end of her days. They then
receive the benedictions of the male and female members of the family in
money, dooav grass and paddy, which embody a prayer to the God for her
everlasting happiness. A second course of breakfast consisting of boiled
rice, dhall, fish and vegetable curries in great variety, sweetmeats,
sour and sweet milk is next brought for the bridegroom; seeing that he
eats very slowly and scantily through shame, his sisters-in-law help him
with handfuls of rice and curries, &c. After he has finished eating, the
residue of the victuals is given to his wife in a separate room, because
it is customary that she should use the same that day, with a view to
cement mutual love and affection.
Preparations are now being made for the return of the procession to the
house of the bridegroom, but before it starts some pecuniary matters are
to be settled. The father of the bridegroom gives fifty Rupees as
_Sarjaytollánee_ for the benefit of the sisters of the bride, and the
father of the bride must give the same sum, if not a larger one, as
_Nanadkhaymee_ for the benefit of the sisters of the bridegroom. Then
the difficult problem of _Samajeek_ is to be solved. In almost every
case, the question is not decided without some discussion. Hindoos are
above all tenacious of caste when the question is one of Rupees and
pice. Crowds of _Bháts_, _fakeers_, _nagas_, _raywos_, and mendicants
shouting at times "_Jay, Jay_," victory, victory; "Bar, konay bachay
thakoog," may the bridegroom and bride live long, impatiently wait in
the street for their usual alms. They get a few annas each and disperse.
Professional _Ghatucks_, genealogists and Brahmins also come in for
their share and are not disappointed. Then comes the interesting and
affecting part of the ceremonial, the _jattra_, or the approaching
departure of the happy pair for the house of the bridegroom. A small
brass pot filled with holy water and a small wooden pot of vermillion
being placed before them, they are made to sit on the two wooden
_pirays_ on which they sat the previous evening at the time of marriage,
and the females touch their foreheads with sour milk, _shiddi_ (hemp),
and the consecrated _urghi_ of the goddess Doorga,[37] which latter is
kept in a tuft on the _Khopa_ or ringlet of the bride's hair for eight
days. Her forehead is also rubbed with vermillion, the emblem of a
female whose husband is alive. This is followed by the rite of
_Kanokanjooley_ already described, but this time the father of the bride
throws the brass plate right over her head into the cloth of his wife,
who stands for the purpose behind her daughter. A sudden and solemn
pause is perceptible here, betokening the subsidence of joy and the
advent of sorrow. In the midst of the company, mostly females, the
father and mother of the bride, alternately clasping both the hands of
the bridegroom, with tears in their eyes, commit the very responsible
trust of the young wife to his charge, saying at the same time in a
faltering tone, among other things, that "hitherto our daughter was
placed under our care, but now through the _Bhabiturbee_ or kind
dispensation of Providence, she is consigned for ever to your charge,
may you kindly overlook her shortcomings and frailties and prove your
fidelity by constancy." At this parting expression, tears start into the
eyes of all the females who are naturally more susceptible than the
sterner sex. With sorrowful countenances and deep emotion they look
steadfastly at the married pair and imploringly beseech the bridegroom
to treat the bride with all the tenderness of an affectionate husband.
The scene is exceedingly affecting, and the sweet sorrow of parting does
not permit him to say _Bidaya_ or farewell to the bridegroom. The
mother-in-law, especially, should the bride be her only daughter, is
overwhelmed with grief, and if she does not cry bitterly, her suppressed
emotion is unmistakable; the idea even of a temporary separation is
enough to break her heart, and no consolation can restore the natural
serenity of her mind.[38] Her relatives endeavour to cheer her by
reminding her of their and her own cases, and declare that all females
are born to share the same fate. They scarcely enter the world before
they must leave their parents and intermarry into other families. This
is their destiny, and this the law of _Juggut_ (the world), and they
must all abide by it. Instead of repining, she ought to pray to _Debta_
(god,) "that her daughter should ever continue to live at her
father-in-law's, use _Sidoor_ (vermillion) on her grey head, wear out
her _iron bangle_, and be a _junma ayestri_," blessings which are all
enjoyed by a female whose husband is alive. Such powerful arguments and
undeniable examples partially restore the equanimity of her mind, and
she is half persuaded to join her friends and go and see the procession
from the top of the house. The same tumult and bustle which ensued at
the time of coming now prevail at the departure of the bridegroom in
his _Sookasun_, and the bride in her closely covered crimson _Mohápáyá_,
preceded by all the _tinsel trappings_ and bands of English and Native
musicians. The procession slowly moves forward with all the pomp and
consequence of a grand, imposing exhibition, amidst the staring of the
wondering populace and of the sight-seeing public. "It is on such
occasions," as Macaulay observes, "that tender and delicate women, whose
veils had never been lifted before the public gaze, came forth from the
inner chambers in which Eastern jealousy keeps watch over their beauty."
The great body of _Barjattars_--bridegroom's friends--who graced the
procession with their presence the previous night, do not accompany it
now on its return homewards, and notwithstanding all the vigilance of
the extra guards, the mob scrambles and forcibly takes away the tinsel
flower and fruit trees on the way. In an hour or two, all the objects of
wonder vanish from the sight, and leave no mark behind them: "the gaze
of fools, the pageant of a day."
On the arrival of the procession at its destination, the bridegroom
alights from the _Sookasun_ and the bride from the _Mohápáyá_, under
which, by way of welcome, is thrown a _ghara_, or pot of water. Hereupon
the silk _chadur_ or scarf of the bridegroom, so long in the possession
of the bride, being entwined between both while the conch is blowing,
they are taken into the inner apartment, the former walking, the latter
in the arms of one of her nearest female relatives whose husband is
alive. The boy is made to stand on an _allpana piray_ (white-painted
wooden seat), the girl on a thálá or metal plate filled with milk and
altawater, and holding in her hand a live _shole_ fish. A small earthen
pot of milk is put upon the fire by a female whose husband is alive, and
when through heat it overflows, the veil of the girl being lifted, she
is desired to witness the overflowing process and say gently three
times, "may the wealth and resources of her father-in-law overflow,"
while her mother-in-law puts round her left hand an iron bangle,[39] and
with the usual benediction that she may be ever blessed with her
husband, rubs the middle of her forehead with a little vermillion. A
small basket of paddy or unhusked rice, over which stands a small pot of
vermillion, is placed on the head of the bride, which the bridegroom
holds with his left hand, and when they are both greeted three times
with the _Sree_, _Barandala Koolo_, water, plantain, betel and
betel-nuts, as has been described before, by the bridegroom's mother,
he, with his pair of nut-crackers in his right hand, throws over the
ground a few grains of paddy from the _reck_, walks slowly over a new
piece of red bordered cloth into a room, accompanied by his wife and
preceded by other females, one of whom blows a conch and another
sprinkles water,--both tokens of an auspicious event.
When all are properly seated upon bedding spread on the floor, the
bridegroom and the bride play again the game of _jatook_ with cowries
(shells)[40] as before. They afterwards receive the usual _asseerbad_
(blessing) in paddy, doov-grass and money. The mother-in-law in order to
ensure the permanent submissiveness of the bride puts honey into her
ears and sugar into her mouth that she may receive her commands and
execute them like a sweet obedient girl. Some females then, placing a
male child on the thigh of the bridegroom, desire him to hand it to the
bride. According to prescribed custom, the mother-in-law, on first
seeing the face of her daughter-in-law, presents her with a pair of gold
bangles. Other near female relatives, following her example, present her
severally with a pair of gold armlets, a pearl necklace, a set of gold
_pitjhapa_, or an ornament for the back, jingling as the girl moves, a
pair of diamond cut gold ear-rings set in precious stones, and so on. To
account for the common desire of the Hindoos to give a profusion of
jewels to their females, Menu, their great fountain of authority,
enjoins "let women be constantly supplied with ornaments at festivals
and jubilees, for if the wife be not elegantly attired, she will not
exhilarate her husband. A wife gaily adorned, the whole house is
embellished."
She is next taken into the kitchen, where all sorts of cooked victuals,
except meat, are prepared in great abundance. She is desired to look at
them and pray to God that her father-in-law may always enjoy plenty.
Returning from the cookroom, the bridegroom gives into her hands an
embroidered Benares _saree_ as also a brass _thala_, (plate) with a few
_batees_ (cups) containing boiled rice, _dhall_, and all the prepared
curries, vegetables, and fish, frumenty, &c., and addresses her,
declaring that from this day forward he undertakes to support her with
food and clothes. He then partakes of the dinner and retires, while the
bride is made to share the residue.[41] She is thus taught, from the
moment of her union at the Hymeneal altar, her fundamental duty of
absolute submission to, and utter dependence on, her husband. Should she
be of dark complexion and her features not beautiful, the bridegroom is
thus twitted by his elder brothers' wives: "you all along disliked a
_kalo_ (black) girl, now what will you do, _thacoorpo_? Surely you
cannot forsake her, we will see by-and-bye you shall have to wash her
feet." Words like these pierce the heart of the bridegroom, but
politeness forbids him to reply. As regards the power of woman, the same
lawgiver says--"a female is able to draw from the right path in this
life, not a fool only, but even a sage, and can lead him in subjection
to desire or to wrath."
The nearest relatives and friends of the family are invited to partake
of the _Bowbhát_ or bridal dinner consisting of boiled rice, dhall, fish
and vegetable curries, frumenty, _polowya_, &c., served to the guests by
the bride's own hands, which is tantamount to her recognition as one of
the members of the family. To eat _unna_ (boiled rice) is one thing and
to eat _jalpan_ (loochees and sweetmeats) is quite another. A Hindoo can
take the latter at the house of one of inferior caste, but he would lose
his caste if he were to eat the former at the same place. Even among
equals of the same caste, and much more among inferiors, boiled rice is
not taken without mature consideration, and some sort of compensation
from the inferior to the superior for condescending to eat the same. The
compensation is made in money and clothes according to the rank of the
_Koolins_. Before departing, the guests invited to the _Bowbhát_ at
which they eat boiled _rice_ from the hands of the bride, give her one,
two, or more Rupees each.
The day following is a very interesting day or rather night, being the
night of _Foolsajya_[42] or flowery bed. At about eight o'clock in the
evening the father of the bride sends to his son-in-law ample presents
of all sorts of fruits in or out of season, home and bazar made
sweetmeats, some in the shape of men, women, fishes, birds, carriages,
horses, elephants, &c., &c., each weighing from 6 to 10 lbs., sweet and
sour milk (_bátásá_,) a kind of sweet cakes, _chineere moorkey_, paddy,
fried and sugared comfits, spices of all sorts, betel and prepared
betel-nuts, sets of ornaments and toys made of cutch, representing
railway carriages, gardens, house, dancing girls, &c., imitation pearl
necklaces made of rice, imitation gold necklace made of paddy, colored
imitation fruits made of curd[43], butter, sugar, sugar-candy, _chána_
(coagulated milk), otto of rose, rose-water, chaplets of flowers and
flower ornaments, in great variety, Dacca and embroidered Benares
_dhooty_ and _saree_ for the boy and the girl, clothes for all the
elderly females, couch-cot, beddings, sets of silver and brass utensils,
carpet, embroidered shoes, gold watch and chain, &c., &c. Between 125
and 150 servants, male and female, carry these articles, some in banghy,
some in baskets, and some in large brass _thálás_ or trays. These
presents being properly arranged in the _Thácoor-dállán_ the male
friends of the family are invited to come down and see them, some
praising the choice assortment and large variety, as well as the taste
of the father of the bride, while others more calculating make an
estimate as to the probable cost of the whole. These articles are then
removed into the inner apartment, where the females, naturally
loquacious, criticise them according to their judgment; the simple and
the good-natured say they are good and satisfactory, others more
fastidious find fault with them. They are, however, soon silenced by the
prudent remarks of the adult male members of the family. The servants
are next fed and dismissed with presents of money, some receiving one
Rupee each being the servants of the bride's family, some half a Rupee
being the servants of other families. They then take back all the brass
_thálás_ and trays, leaving the baskets behind.
Here we come to the climax of interest. The bridegroom and the bride,
adorned with a wealth of flower wreaths, and dressed in red-bordered
Dacca clothes, with sandal paste on their foreheads, and sitting side by
side in the presence of females whose husbands are alive, are desired to
eat even a small portion of the articles of food that have been
presented, and what is the most interesting feature in the scene, is
that the former helps the latter and the latter helps the former, both
throwing aside for the first time the restraint which modesty naturally
imposes on such an occasion. To be more explicit, the boy eats one half
of a sweetmeat and gives the other half to the girl, and the girl in her
turn is constrained to follow the same example, though with a blushing
countenance and a veiled face. Female modesty predominates in this
isolated instance. If the boy give blushingly, the girl gives shyly and
tremulously; in spite of her best efforts, she cannot consistently make
up her mind to lift up her right hand and stretch it towards the mouth
of her husband, but is after all helped to do so by a woman, whose
husband is alive. This process of eating[44] and mutual help, when three
days have scarcely passed over their heads, naturally gives rise to joy,
merriment and laughter among the females; and one amongst them exclaims;
"look, look, _Soudaminey_, how our new _Rádha_ and _Krishna_ are sitting
side by side and eating together; may they live long and sport thus."
The mother of the boy watches the progress of the interesting scene,
and in transports of joy wishes for their continued felicity. The young
and sprightly, who have once passed through the same process, and whose
hearts are enlivened by the reminiscences of past occurrences, too
recent to be forgotten, tarry in the room to the last moment, till sleep
weighing down the eyelids of the happy pair, the mother of the
bridegroom gently calls them aside, and leaves them to rest undisturbed.
In accordance with the old established custom, their bed is strewn with
flowers and their bodies perfumed with otto of rose. This is not enough
for the sprightly ladies, the complement of whose amusement and
merriment is not yet full. Even if the night be a chilly one, regardless
of the effects of exposure, they must _aripato_, or jealously watch
through the crevices of windows, whether or not the boy talks to the
girl, and if he do, what is the nature of the talk. Thus they pass the
whole night prying and laughing, chatting with each other on subjects
suited to their taste and mode of thought. When morning dawns, the boy
opening the door goes outside, and the girl slowly walks to her
maid-servants, who accompanied her from her father's house. Her whole
desire is to get back to her mother and sisters; nothing can reconcile
her to her new home; novelty has no charms for her except in her
paternal domicile. She repeatedly asks her maid-servants as to when the
_Palkee_ will come, and what is the time fixed for her _jattra_,
(departure); the maid-servants, consoling her, induce her to wash her
mouth and break her fast with a few sweetmeats. In obedience to the kind
instruction of her mother, she sits closely veiled and talks little, if
at all, even to young girls of her tender age. She next takes her
_vojan_, or dinner, and to while away time, little girls try to amuse
her with toys or a game at cards; at length the time comes for the
toilet work, and the arrival of the covered _Mohapaya_ is announced. She
again takes a few sweetmeats, and making a _pronam_ (bow) to all her
superiors, is helped into the Palkee by her mother-in-law, a female
having previously washed her feet. The usual benediction on such an
occasion is, "may you continue to live under the roof of your
father-in-law in the enjoyment of conjugal bliss."
On the arrival of the Mahápáyá at her father's house, almost all the
females come out for a moment, taking care previously to have the suddur
door bolted and the Palkee bearers removed. They cheerfully welcome the
return of the girl home. Her mother, unveiling her face and taking her
in her arms, thus affectionately addresses her, "my _Bacha_, (child) my
_sonarchand_ (golden moon) where have you been? Did not your heart mourn
for us?" Our house looked _khakha_ (desolate) in your absence. "What did
they (bridegroom's family) say about our _dayway thowya_ (presents)? Did
they express any _nindya_, (dissatisfaction)? How have the women behaved
towards you? How are your _sassooree_ and _sasoor_ (mother-in-law and
father-in-law,)?" Thus interrogating, they all walk inside and, making
the girl change her silk clothes and sit near them, begin to examine and
criticise the ornaments given her by her father-in-law. "Let us see the
pearl necklace _first_," says Bhoopada? "The pearls are not smooth and
round, what may be its value?" _Geeri Balla_, taking her own pearl
necklace from off her neck, compares the one with the other. They
unanimously pronounce the latter to be more costly than the former; be
that as it may, its value cannot be less than Rupees 500. They next take
in hand the _pitjapa_, ornament for the back, looking at it for a few
minutes they pass their opinion, saying it is heavier and better made
than that of _Geeri Balla_. The _Sita haur_, or _Jarawya_[45] (gold
necklace) afterwards attracts their attention, and they roughly estimate
its price at Rupees 350. It is not a little surprising that though these
women are never permitted to go beyond the precincts of the zenana, yet
their valuation of ornaments, unless it be a _jarawya bijoutry_ of
enormous cost, such as is worn on grand occasions by the wife of a "_big
swell_," often bears the nearest approximation to the intrinsic worth of
an article. Thus almost every ornament, one after another, forms the
subject of their criticism. When their discussion is over, the girl is
desired to take the greater portion of her ornaments off her body--save
a pair of gold _balla_[46] on her hands and a necklace on her neck--and
leave them to the care of her mother. She then mixes in the company of
other little girls of her tender age, some married, some unmarried; who
curiously ask her all about her new friends, until their talk resumes
its usual childish topics. She passes the day among them very
pleasantly, so much so that when her mother calls her to take her
luncheon, she stays back and says only "_jachee, jachee_," (coming,
coming,) her mind being so much absorbed in her juvenile sports.
The next day is again a day of trial for her, she has to go for
_gharbasath_[47] to her father-in-law's house. On awaking, she remembers
where she will have to go in course of the day; a sensation bordering on
sulkiness almost unconsciously steals upon her, and as time passes it
increases in intensity. About four in the afternoon the arrival of the
_Mahápáyá_ is announced, her sister combs her hair and adorns her
person with all the ornaments she has lately received. Dressed in her
bridal silk _saree_, her eyes seem charged with tears, and symptoms of
reluctance are visible in every step; but go she must; no alternative is
left her. So her mother helps her into the _Mahápáyá_ and orders a
durwan and two maid-servants to accompany her, not forgetting to assure
her that she is to be brought back the next day. Despite this assurance,
she whimpers and weeps, and is consoled on the way by her maid-servants.
At her father-in-law's, young girls of her age being impatient to
receive her, are seen moving backwards and forwards to get a glimpse of
the _Mahápáyá_, the arrival of which is a signal for almost all the
ladies to come out and greet the object of their affection. Her
mother-in-law steps forward, and taking up the girl in her arms walks
inside, followed by a train of other ladies, whose hearts are
exhilarated again at the prospect of merriment at the expense of the
married pair. When the time comes round for them to retire, the same
scene of _arepáta_ is re-enacted by the mirth-loving ladies, with all
their "quips and cranks and wanton wiles." At day-break, the girl, as
must naturally be expected, quietly walks to her confidential
maid-servant, and whispers her to go and tell her mother to send the
_Mahápáyá_ Palkee as early as possible. Bearing her message, one of them
goes for the purpose but the mother replies, How can she send the Palkee
except at the lucky hour after dinner? When this reply is communicated
to the girl, she sits sulkily aloof, until her mother-in-law cajoles her
and offers for her breakfast a few sweetmeats with milk. After a great
deal of hesitation she complies with her request, which, to be
effective, is always accompanied by a threat of not allowing her to
return to her father's in the event of a refusal. About ten o'clock she
takes her regular breakfast as described before, but she does not eat
with zest, for whatever delicacy may be offered her, it palls upon her
taste; continually brooding on the idea of a return home. This is the
day when the bridegroom and the bride untie from each other's hand the
yellow home-spun _charka_ thread with which they were entwined on the
day of marriage, as a mark of their indissoluble union. At length the
lucky hour arrives, and with it the _Mahápáyá_ comes. The very
announcement of the fact revives the drooping spirits of the bride.
After going through the usual toilet work and a slight repast, she gets
into the covered conveyance, assisted by her mother-in-law and other
ladies. When she returns home, she changes her bridal silk garment and
strips herself of the greater portion of her ornaments. Now uncontrolled
and unreserved, she breathes a free, genial, atmosphere; her mother and
sisters welcome her with their heartfelt congratulations, and she moves
about with her wonted buoyancy of spirit. Throwing aside her sulkiness,
she commingles readily in conversation with all around her. She praises
the amiable qualities of her father-in-law and mother-in-law, and the
very kind treatment she has had while under their roof, but she keeps
her reserve when even the slightest allusion is made to her husband,
because this is to her young mind forbidden ground on which she cannot
venture to tread without violating the sacred rules of conventionalism.
At the marriages of rich families, as will be understood from our
description, vast sums of money are expended. The greatest expense is
incurred in purchasing jewels and making presents of brass utensils,
shawls, clothes, sweetmeats, &c., to Brahmins, Koolins, _Ghatacks_ and
numerous friends, relatives and acquaintances, besides illuminations,
fireworks and all the pageantry of a pompous procession. In and about
Calcutta, the Rajahs of Shobabazar, the Dey family, the Mullick family,
the Tagore family, the Dutt family, the Ghosal family, and others, are
reported to have spent from fifty thousand rupees to two lakhs (£5,000
to £20,000) and upwards in the marriages of their sons. Whilst writing
this I am told Maharajah Jotendro Mohun Tagore is said to have expended
about two lakhs of rupees in the marriage of his nephew. The most
interesting feature in the extraordinary munificence of the Moharajah
is, as I have learnt, his princely contribution to the "District
Charitable Society,"--an act of benevolence which has shewn, in a very
conspicuous manner, not only his good sense, but his warm sympathy with
the cause of suffering humanity. It were to be wished that his noble
example would exercise some influence on other Hindoo millionaires. If a
tithe of such marriage expenses were devoted to Public Charity, the poor
and helpless would ceaselessly chant the names of such donors, and the
reward would be something better than the transient admiration of the
idle populace.
For one or two years after marriage, the girl generally remains under
the paternal roof, occasionally paying a visit to her father-in-law's as
need be. As she advances in years, her repugnance--the effect of early
marriage--to live with her husband is gradually overcome, till time and
circumstances completely reconcile her to her future home. Her affection
grows, and she learns to appreciate the grave meaning of a married life.
She is still, however, but a girl, in habit and ideas, when the real
union of wedded life or the second marriage takes place, which is
solemnised when she arrives at the age of puberty, say at her twelfth or
thirteenth year. There is a popular belief, whether erroneous or not it
is not for me to decide, that in this country heat accelerates growth,
and hence the Hindoo Shasturs enjoin the necessity of early marriage,
the injurious consequences of which are chiefly seen in the weak
constitution of the offspring, and the premature decay of the mother.
So abominable are some of the ceremonies connected with this event in
the life of a female that to describe them fully would be an outrage on
common decency.[48] I will, therefore, confine myself to a description
of the ceremonies, entirely abstaining from an allusion to the
abominations connected therewith. A general depravity of manners can
only account for the prevalence of this obnoxious institution, in the
eradication of which every Hindoo whose moral sense is not entirely
blunted ought to co-operate. As the delay of the union is in the belief
of a Hindoo an unpardonable sin, the fact referred to is announced by
the sound of a conch, and the bodies of all the females are smeared with
turmeric water,--an unmistakable evidence of joy. The news is also
conveyed to the nearest relatives by the family barber who receives
presents of clothes and money. It is quite evident from the silence of
the Hindoo Shastur on the subject that the origin of the female rites is
comparatively recent. Irrespective of the religious observances, it
affords an opportunity to the zenana females to indulge in obscene
depravities, the outcome of vitiated feeling.
The poor girl is placed on this occasion in the corner of a dark, dingy
room, with a small round pebble before her, shut out from the gaze of
men, and surrounded on four sides by four pieces of slender split
bamboos about one yard long fastened by a piece of thread. This is
called the _teerghur_ mentioned before. Being regarded as unclean, she
remains in this room for four days without a bedding or a musquito
curtain, and no one touches her, not even her sisters. She is forbidden
to see the sun, her diet is confined to boiled rice, milk, sugar, curd,
and tamarind without salt. On the morning of the fifth day, she is taken
to a neighbouring tank, accompanied by five women whose husbands are
alive. Smeared with turmeric water, they all bathe and return home,
throwing away the mat and other things that were in the room. She then
sits in another room, and a very low caste woman, in the presence of
five other respectable females (not widows), performs a series of what
is vulgarly called _Nith Kith_,[49] purely female rites, which are
exceedingly indecent and immoral, so much so that a woman who has any
sense of shame feels quite disgusted. During the day, according to
previous invitations, numerous female guests assemble and partake of a
good dinner provided for the occasion. They are also entertained with
songs, dancing and music, all done by professional females. When the
guests retire, they congratulate the girl with the usual benediction to
the effect,--"may you be blessed with a male child."
After a day or two the religious part of the ceremony is performed,
which is free from obscenity. On this occasion, the officiating priest
reading, and the bridegroom repeating the service after him, presents
offerings of rice, sweetmeats, plantain, clothes, doov-grass, fruits and
flowers to the following gods and goddesses, _viz._, _Shasthi_,
_Márcando_, _Soorja_, _Soobhachini_, _Gannesh_, and the nine planets,
much in the same way as when the nuptial rites were formally solemnized.
After this the hands of the bridegroom and the bride are joined
together, and the priest repeating certain formulas, the bridegroom then
causes a ring to slide between the bride's silk garment and her waist.
Twenty-one small images (twenty male and one female) made of pounded
rice are placed before the happy pair, and the priest feeds the bride
with sugar, clarified butter, milk, and the urine and dung of a calf to
ensure the purity of the offspring. They then partake of a good dinner,
the bride taking the residue of the bridegroom's meal. The twenty-one
images are put into the room of the pair as a token of happy offspring,
and the proportion of the males to the females, shews the premium and
discount at which they are respectively held. The bride now takes up her
permanent residence in the house of her father-in-law and becomes one of
his family.
For one twelve month after the marriage, the parents of the bridegroom
and the bride have to make exchanges of suitable presents to one another
at all the grand festivals. At the _first tatto_ or present, besides
clothes, heaps of fruits, sweetmeats, English toys and sundries, the
father of the youth gives one complete set of miniature silver and brass
utensils to the girl, while in return the father of the girl sends such
presents as a table, chair, writing desk, silver inkstand, gold and
silver pencil cases, stationery, perfumery, &c., in addition to an
equally large quantity of choice eatables of all kinds too numerous to
be detailed. The most expensive presents are two, namely, the _sittory_
or winter present and the Doorga Poojah present, the former requiring a
Cashmere shawl, _choga_ and sundry other articles of use, and the
latter, fine Dacca and silk clothes to the whole family, including men,
women and children.
It is a lamentable fact that though a Hindoo bears a great love and
affection to his wife while she lives, yet in the event of her death,
the effects of these amiable qualities are too soon effaced by the
strong influence of a new passion, and another union is very speedily
formed. Even during the period of his mourning, which lasts one month,
proposals for a second marriage are entertained, if not by the husband
himself, by his father or elder brother. When the remembrance of this
heavy domestic bereavement is so very fresh in the memory, it is highly
unbecoming and ungenerous to open or enter into a matrimonial
negotiation, and have it consummated immediately after the _asúchi_ or
mourning is over. A wife is certainly not a beast of burden that is no
sooner removed by death than it may be replaced by another. She is a
being whose joy and sorrow, happiness and misery, should be identical
with her husband's, and he is a savage in the widest sense of the word
who does not cherish a sacred regard for her memory after her death. In
regard to the whole conduct and relations of the married life, Hindoos
cannot have the golden rule too strongly impressed: "Let every one of
you in particular so love his wife, even as himself; and let the wife
see that she reverence her husband."
FOOTNOTES:
[15] I may be permitted here to observe _en passant_ that a civilized
nation in describing the beauty of a woman, is sometimes apt to adopt
the flowery language of Hafiz. At a Ministerial banquet sometime ago,
the Lord Mayor of London was reported to have said about the Princess of
Wales; "she is perfection, she sparkles like a gem of fifty facets, she
is light when she smiles and she is beauty whenever you see her."
[16] Presents of sweetmeats, fruits, clothes, flowers and sundry other
articles on a pretty grand scale from the bride to the bridegroom, which
will be described more in detail afterwards.
[17] A Rajpoot prince was said to have given a lakh of Rupees to a bard
in order to purchase his rhythmic plaudits in a respectable assemblage
of his countrymen.
[18] If we consult properly the pages of the history of this country
from the earliest period, we shall find abundant proofs of the very
great influence of women on Hindoo society in general. I cannot do
better than give the following quotation from Tod's Annals of Rajasthan.
"What led to the wars of Rama? The rape of Sita. What rendered deadly
the feuds of the Yadus? The insult of Dropadi. What made prince Nala an
exile from Nirwar? His love for Damayanti. What made Raja Bharti abandon
the throne of Avanti? The loss of Pingala. What subjected the Hindu to
the dominion of the Islamite? The rape of the princess of Canouj. In
fine, the cause which overturned kingdoms, commuted the sceptre to the
pilgrim's staff and formed the ground-work of all their grand epics, is
woman."
[19] Besides the marriage expenses, this man gave to his five
sons-in-law fifty thousand Rupees each, as well as a house worth ten
thousand Rupees more.
[20] A thin stuff like paper with which Hindoo females redden their
feet. A widow is not allowed to use it. In the absence of shoes, which
they are forbidden to wear, this red color heightens the beauty of their
tiny feet. It is applied once a week.
[21] In the selection of a bridegroom, outward appearances are not
always to be trusted. The late Baboo Aushotosh Dey, a millionaire, had a
very beautiful grand-daughter to give in marriage. As was to be
expected, _Ghatacks_ and _Ghatkees_ had been rummaging the whole town
and its suburbs for a suitable match, one who would possess all the
recommendations of a good education, a respectable family, and a fair,
prepossessing appearance--qualities which are rarely combined in one.
Among others, the name of the late Honorable Baboo Dwarkey Nauth Mitter
(afterwards a Judge of the Calcutta High Court,) was mentioned. He was
then a bachelor, and his reputation as a scholar spread far and wide.
Somehow or other he was brought into the house of Baboo Aushotosh Dey
for the purpose of giving the ladies an opportunity of seeing him. His
scholastic attainments were pronounced to be of very superior order, but
not being blessed with a prepossessing appearance, he was rejected.
[22] In Hindoo marriages and other ceremonies of a similar nature _red_
color is indispensably necessary for all kinds of wearing apparel, even
the invitation cards must be on _red_ paper. Red color is the sign of
joy and gaiety as opposed to black, which is held to be ominous.
[23] A collirium case which contains the black dye with which native
females daub their own and their childrens' eyelids.
[24] The Bengalis have become so much anglicised of late that they have
not hesitated to give an English name to their sweetmeats. When the late
Lord Canning was the Governor General of India, it was said his Baboo
made a present of some native sweetmeats to Lady Canning, who was kindly
pleased to accept it. Hence the sweetmeat is called "Lady Canning," and
to this day no grand feast among the Bengalis is considered as complete
unless the "Lady Canning" sort is offered to the guests. The man that
first made it is said to have gained much money by its sale. It is not
the savoury taste of the thing that makes it so popular, but the name of
the illustrious Lady. While treating the subject of Hindoo
entertainment, it would not be out of place to make a few observations
on a branch of it, for the information of European readers. At all
public entertainments of the kind I am referring to, respectable Hindoos
strictly confine themselves to _vegetable curries_. Though those of the
_Sakto_ denomination (the followers of Kali and Doorga) have no
religious scruples to use goat-meat (male) and onion in the shape of
curry among select friends at home, they dare not expose themselves by
offering it to strangers. Hence, in large assemblies, they strictly
confine themselves to vegetable curries of different kinds. The
principle is good, were it honestly observed; because meat, if not
necessarily, yet generally, is the concomitant of _drink_. _Privately_,
however, both meat and drink are largely used. Respectable females are
entirely free as yet from these carnal indulgences.
[25] The cause of the fear is as follows: When Kartick (the god of
beauty and the son of the goddess Doorga) went out to marry, he had
forgotten to take with him the usual pair of nut-crackers. When he
remembered this on the way, he immediately returned home, and to his
great surprise, saw his mother eating with her ten hands, she being a
ten handed goddess. On asking the reason, he was told that it was lest,
when he should bring his wife, she would not give her the proper
quantity of food. Under what strange hallucinations, even the gods and
goddesses of the Hindoos laboured!
[26] The _chamurs_ are fans made of the tails of Thibet cows.
[27] Every commonplace minutiæ in the domestic economy of a Hindoo
family is fraught with meaning: the nuts are kept all-day in the bride's
mouth and are saturated with her saliva. When cut by the hand of the
bridegroom they are supposed to possess a peculiar virtue. Somehow or
other, the bridegroom must be made to use them with the betel, in spite
of the warning of his mother, forbidding him to use them on any account.
When used, his love for his wife is supposed to be intensified, which is
prejudicial to the interests of his mother.
[28] The articles consist of Silver Ghará, Ghároo, Báthá, Thállá, Bátti,
Glass, Raykáb, Dáhur, Dipay and Pickdán.
[29] I have known a young collegian of a rather humourous disposition
bleat like a lamb at the time of marriage, to the great amusement of all
the females, except his mother-in-law, who, simple as she was, took the
matter in a serious light, and felt herself almost dejected on account
of the great stupidity of her son-in-law (for she could not take it in
any other sense), but her dejection gave place to joy when in the
_Básurghur_--the sleeping room of the happy pair for the night--she
heard him outwit all the females present. It is obvious that the meaning
of this part of the female rite is to render the husband tame and docile
as a lamb, especially in his treatment of his wife.
[30] In former days when education was but very scantily cultivated,
unpleasant quarrels were known to have arisen between the two parties
from very trivial circumstances. The friends of the bridegroom, often
pluming themselves on their special prerogatives as members of the
strong party readily resented even the slightest insult offered them
rather incautiously by the bridal party. These altercations sometimes
terminated in blows, if not in lacerated limbs. Instead of waiting till
the conclusion of the ceremony, the whole of the bridegroom's party has
been known to return home without dinner, to the great mortification of
the other party. There is a common saying among the Bengalees that "he
who is the enemy of the house should go to a marriage party." It was a
common sport with the friends of the bridegroom to cut with a pair of
scissors the bedding at the house of the bride. But happily such
practices are of rare occurrence now-a-days.
[31] An English gentleman, who, to a versatile genius, combined an
intelligent knowledge of, and a familiar acquaintance with, the manners
and customs of the country, once advised a Native friend of his to go to
England and other great countries on the continent with a number of
Hindoo females and exhibit there all the important social and domestic
ceremonials of this country in a place of public resort. The very
circumstance of Hindoo females performing those rites in the manner in
which they are popularly celebrated here, would be sure to attract a
very large audience. The marriage ceremonies alone would form a regular
night of enchantment and amusement. The time will certainly come when
the realization of such an ingenious idea would no longer be held
Utopian.
[32] Sweeper-caste females.
[33] According to the prescribed rules of the Hindoo society, a
mother-in-law is not permitted to appear before her son-in-law; it is
not only considered indecorous, but is associated with something else
that is scandalous; hence she always keeps her distance from her
son-in-law, but on this particular night, her presence in the room with
other females is quite consistent with feminine propriety. In the case
of a very young son-in-law, however, a departure from this rule is not
reprehensible.
[34] In the suburbs and rural districts of Bengal, females, more
particularly among the Brahmin class, are tacitly allowed to have so
much liberty on this special occasion that they, putting under the
bushel their instinctive modesty, entertain the bridegroom not only with
epithalamiums but with other amorous songs, having reference to the
diversions of Krishna with his mistress, and the numerous milk-maids.
Under an erroneous impression of singing holy songs they unwittingly
trumpet the profligate character of their god. These songs are generally
known by the names of _sákhisungbad_ and _biraha_; the former as the
designation implies, consist of news as conveyed by the principal
milk-maids regarding his mistress, to whom he oftentimes proved false,
and the latter of disappointed love, which broadly exhibits the
prominent features of his sensuous life. They feel such an interest in
these low entertainments, that under the hallowed name of religion they
are led to indirectly perpetrate a crime. Frail as women naturally are,
the example of such a god, combined with the sanction of religion, has
undoubtedly a tendency to impair the moral influence of a virtuous life.
I have always regretted this from my personal observation, but to strike
a death blow at the root of the evil must be the work of ages. The
essential elements of the Hindoo character must be thoroughly recast.
[35] The fee for the trouble of removing the bed and keeping up the
night, the ladies who remained in the bed-chamber are justly entitled to
it for their pains; a widow, be it observed, is not permitted to touch
the bed lest her misfortune would befall the bride, but she gets,
however, her portion or share of the fee.
[36] It should be mentioned that a female after her marriage is not
allowed to utter the name of her husband or of any of his male and
female relatives save those who are younger than she. There is no harm
done in taking the name of a husband, but through a sense of shame she
does not repeat it.
[37] The _Urghi_ consists of _dooav_ grass, rice and _áltá_ (a thin red
stuff made of cotton like paper with which Hindoo females daub their
feet,) previously consecrated to the goddess Doorga, and is supposed to
possess a peculiar virtue in promoting felicity and relieving distress.
[38] Hindoos are so passionately fond of their children, male or female,
that they can but ill brook the idea of a segregation, even under
circumstances where it is unavoidable. Hence wealthy families often keep
their sons-in-law under their own roof. Sometimes this is done from
vanity. Such sons-in-law generally become indolent and effeminate,
destitute alike of mental activity and physical energy. They eat, drink,
smoke, play and sleep. Fattening on the ample resources of their
father-in-law they contract demoralizing habits, which engender vice and
profligacy. The late Baboos Ramdoolal Dey, Ramruttun Roy, Prannauth
Chowdry, the Tagore families, the old Rajahs of Calcutta and some of the
newly fledged English made Rajahs and others, countenanced this
practice, and the result is, they have left with but few exceptions a
number of men singularly deficient in good moral character. These men
are called _Ghar Jamayes_, or home bred sons-in-law, which is a term of
reproach among all persons who have a spark of independence about them.
The late Baboo Dinno Bundho Mitter, the celebrated author of "_Nil
Durpun_," strongly satirises such characters in a book called "_Jamay
Bareek_." While on this subject I may as well mention here that Baboo
Ramdoolal Dey of Calcutta, who had risen from obscurity to great
opulence, had five daughters, to each of whom he gave a marriage dowry
of Rupees 50,000 in Government securities, and 10,000 Rupees for a
house. Of course all his sons-in-law were first class _Koolins_, and
used to live under the roof of their father-in-law. Some of their sons
and grandsons are now ranked amongst the Hindoo millionaires of this
great City, while most of the members of the original stock have
dwindled into insignificance, strikingly illustrating the instability of
fortune.
[39] The use of an iron bangle or bracelet has a deep meaning, it
outlasts gold and silver ones. A girl may wear gold ornaments set in
precious stones to the value of ten or fifteen thousand Rupees, but an
_iron_ bangle worth a pice,--a veritable insignia of _ayestreehood_
opposed to widowhood--is indispensable to a married woman for its
comparatively durable quality. A young widow may wear gold bangles till
her twentieth year, but she is not privileged to put on an iron bangle
after the death of her husband.
[40] In the early part of the British Government in Bengal, _cowries_
were the common currency of the Province in the ordinary transactions of
life. People used to make their _hautbazar_ (market) with _cowries_, and
a family that made a daily bazar with sixteen or eighteen _kahuns_ of
cowries, equal to one rupee or so, was reckoned a very respectable
family. The prices of provisions ranged nearly one-third of what they
now are. Even the revenues of Government were sometimes paid in cowries
in the Eastern districts, namely, Assam, Sylhet, &c.
[41] There is a custom amongst the Hindoos that a married woman
considers it no disgrace but rather an act of merit to eat the residue
of her husband's meal in his absence; so great is the respect in which a
husband is held, and so warm the sympathy existing between them. Even an
elderly woman, the mother of five or six children, cheerfully partakes
of the residue, as if it were the orts of gods.
[42] It is a noteworthy fact that in contracting matrimonial alliances,
some families placed in mediocre circumstances are satisfied with taking
a certain sum of money in lieu of the presents mentioned, partly because
the articles are mostly of a perishable nature, and partly because the
making presents of money to numerous servants for their trouble and
feeding them, is regarded more as a tax than anything else. They prefer
utility to show. Even in such cases of verbal contract, the father of
the bride must send at least thirty servants with presents, besides 100
or 150 Rupees in cash as is stipulated before.
[43] In making the above imitations, Hindoo females exhibit an
astonishing degree of skill and ingenuity which, if directed by the hand
of an expert, is capable of still further improvement. Naturally and
instinctively they evince a great aptitude for learning all sorts of
handiwork.
[44] It is perhaps not generally known that the dinner of a native,
Hindoo or Mussulman, male or female, is not considered complete, until
he chews his _pan beera_ or betel. The bridegroom after eating and
washing his mouth chews his usual _pan_, and is asked to give a portion
thereof to the bride; he hesitates at first, but consents at length to
give it into the right hand of his elder brother's wife, who forcibly
thrusts the same into the mouth of the bride, observing at the same time
that their mutual repugnance on this score will soon be overcome when
their incipient affection grows into true love.
[45] _Jarawya_ jewellery is set in precious stones, the value of which
it is not easy to estimate.
[46] A Hindoo _Ayistree_ female, _i. e._, one whose husband is alive,
whether young or old, is religiously forbidden to take off _balla_
(bangle) from her hands, if is a badge of _Ayistreeism_, even when dead
red thread is substituted in the place of the _balla_, so great is the
importance attached to it by _Ayistree_ females. When the _balla_ is not
seen on the hand, it is called the _raur hatha_, or the hand of a widow,
than which there could not be a more reproachful term.
[47] _Gharbasath_ implies dwelling in a father-in-law's house. If the
bride do not go there within eight days from the date of marriage, she
could not do so for one year, but after _gharbasath_ she can go and come
back any time when necessary. The object is to impress on her mind that
her father-in-law's house is her future home. It is on this occasion
that the worship of _Shoobachini_ already described is performed, and
both the bridegroom and bride are taken to _Kally Ghat_ to sanctify the
hallowed union and obtain the blessings of the goddess.
[48] It is perhaps not generally known that some women, not from any
malicious design but rather from the ennui of a monotonous life, as well
as for the sake of amusement in which they might participate, make a
secret combination, and invent some artificial means to prematurely drag
the girl--the poor victim of superstition--into the _Teerghur_ before
she actually arrives at the age of puberty.
[49] This part of the rite is called _Kádá_ or mire. A small pool is dug
in the court-yard and some water thrown into it;--two women, the one
personating a Rajah (King) and the other, a Ranee (Queen) feign to bathe
in the pool, change their clothes, put on straw ornaments and dine on
the refuse of vegetables, while the songstress recites all sorts of
obscene songs and the females hide their faces through shame. This loose
and ludicrous representation proves nauseating even to those for whose
amusement it is performed. We cannot regard in any other light than as a
relic of unmitigated barbarism.
VI.
THE BROTHER FESTIVAL.
Any social institution that has a tendency to promote the growth of
genuine love and affection between man and woman, is naturally conducive
to the happiness of both. In this sublunary vale of tears, where
unalloyed felicity is but transient and short lived, even a temporary
exemption from the cares and anxieties of the world adds at least some
moments of pleasure to life. The _Bhratridvitiya,_ or _fraternal_ rite
of the Hindoos, is an institution of this nature, being admirably
calculated to cement the natural bond of union between brothers and
sisters of the same family. Bhratridvitiya, as the name imports, takes
place on the second day of the new moon immediately following the Kali
Poojah or Dewali. On the morning of this day, a brother comes to the
house of a sister, and receives from her hand the usual benedictive
present of unhusked rice, doova grass and sandal, with a wealth of good
wishes for his long, prosperous life, and the happy commemoration of the
event from year to year. The brother in return reciprocates, and putting
a Rupee or two into her hands, expresses a similar good wish, with the
addition that she may long continue to enjoy the blessings of a conjugal
life,--a benediction which she values over every other worldly
advantage. The main object of this festival is to renovate and intensify
the warmth of affection between kith and kin of both sexes by blessing
each other on a particular day of the year. It is a sort of family
reunion, pre-eminently calculated to recall the early reminiscences of
life, and to freshen up fraternal and sisterly love. No ritualistic rite
or priestly interposition is necessary for the purpose, it being a
purely social institution, originating in the love that sweetens life.
After interchanging salutations, the sister who has every thing ready
thrice invokes a blessing upon the brother in a Bengali verse, and marks
his forehead thrice with sandal paste by the tip of her little finger.
She then serves him with the provisions provided for the festive
occasion. Here genuine love and true affection almost spontaneously gush
forth from the heart of the sister towards one who is united to her by
the nearest tie of consanguinity and tenderest remembrances. If the
brother be not inclined to relish or taste a particular dish, how
affectionately does she cajole him to try it, adding at the same time
that it has been prepared by her own hand with the greatest care. Any
little dislike evinced by the brother instantly bathes her eyes in
tears, and disposes her to exclaim somewhat in the following strain:
"Why is this slight towards a poor sister who has been up till twelve
o'clock last night to prepare for you the _chunderpooley_ and
_Khirarchách_ (two sorts of home-made sweetmeats) regardless of the
cries of _Khoká_ (the baby)." Such a pathetic, tender expression bursting
from the lips of a loving sister cannot fail to melt a brother's heart,
and overcome his dislike.
About four o'clock in the afternoon, the sister sends, as tangible
memorials of her affection, presents of clothes and sweetmeats to the
house of the brother, fondly indulging in the hope that they may be
acceptable to him. On this particular day, Hindoo homes as well as the
streets of Calcutta in the native part of the town, present the lively
appearance of a national jubilee. Each of the brothers of the family
visits each of the sisters in turn. Hundreds of male and female servants
are busily engaged in carrying presents, and return home quite
delighted. On such occasions the heart of a Hindoo female, naturally
soft and tender, becomes doubly expansive when the outflow of love and
affection on her part is fully reciprocated by the effusion of good
wishes on the part of her brother.
VII.
THE SON-IN-LAW FESTIVAL.
If not precisely analogous in all its prominent features to the popular
festival described in the preceding Chapter, the following bears a
striking resemblance to it, in its adaptation to promote domestic
happiness. The festival familiarly known in Bengal by the name of
"_Jamai Shasthi_" is an entertainment given in honor of a son-in-law, in
order to bind him more closely to his wife's family.
Nothing better illustrates the manners and usages of a nation from a
social and religious standpoint than the festivals and ceremonies which
are observed by it. They form the essential parts of what DeQuincey
calls the equipage of life. As a nation, the Hindoos are proverbially
fond of festivals, which are engrafted, as it were, on their peculiar
domestic and social economy. A designing priesthood had concocted an
almost endless round of superstitious rites with the view of acquiring
power, and looking for permanent reverence to the credulity of the blind
devotees. Such foolish rites are eventually destined to fall into
desuetude, as popular enlightenment progresses, but those which are free
from the taint of priestcraft by reason of their being interwoven into
the social amenities of life, are likely to prevail long after the
subversion of priestly ascendency. And _Jamai Shasthi_ is a festival of
this unobjectionable type. No superstitious element enters into its
observance.
It invariably takes place on the sixth day[50] of the increase of the
moon in the Bengali month of May, when ripe mangoes--the prince of
Indian fruits--are in full season. Then all the mothers-in-law in Bengal
are actually on the _qui vive_ to welcome their sons-in-law and turn a
new leaf in the chapter of their joys. A good son-in-law is emphatically
the most darling object of a Hindoo mother-in-law. She spares no
possible pains to please and satisfy him, even calling to her aid the
supernatural agency of charms. Ostensibly and even practically a Hindoo
mother-in-law loves her son-in-law more than her son, simply because the
son can shift for himself even if turned adrift in the wide world, but
the daughter is absolutely helpless, and the cruel institution of
perpetual widowhood, with its appalling amount of misery and risk,
renders her tenfold more so.
On this festive occasion, the son-in-law is invited to spend the day and
night at his father-in-law's house. No pains or expense is spared to
entertain him. When he comes in the morning, the first thing he has to
do is to go into the female apartment, bow his head down in honor of his
mother-in-law, and put on the floor a few Rupees, say five or ten,
sometimes more if newly married. The food consists of all the delicacies
of the season, and both the quantity and variety are often too great to
be done justice to. The perfection of Hindoo culinary art is
unreservedly brought into requisition on such occasions. Surrounded by a
galaxy of beauty, the youthful son-in-law is restrained by a sense of
shame from freely partaking of the feast specially provided for him. The
earnest importunity of the females urges the bashful youth to eat more
and more. If this be his first visit as son-in-law he finds himself
quite bewildered in the midst of superfluity and superabundance of
preparations. Many are the tricks employed to outwit him. With all his
natural shrewdness, and forewarned by the females of his own family, he
is no match for either the playful humor and frolics of the young,
sprightly ladies. Sham articles of food cleverly dressed in close
imitation of fruits and sweetmeats are offered him without detection in
the full blaze of day, and the attempt to partake of them excites bursts
of laughter and merriment. The utmost female ingenuity is here brought
into play to call forth amusement at the expense of the duped youth. In
their own way, the good-natured females are mistresses of jokes and
jests, and nothing pleases them better than to find the youthful new
comer completely nonplused. This forms the favorite subject of their
talk long after the event. Shut up in the cage of a secluded zenana,
quite beyond the influence of the outside world, it is no wonder that
their minds and thoughts do not rise above the trifles of their own
narrow circle.
As in the case of the "Brother" festival, ample presents of clothes,
fruits, and sweetmeats are sent to the house of the son-in-law, and
every lane and street of Calcutta is thronged with male and female
servants trudging along with their loads in full hopes of getting their
share of eatables and a Rupee or a half Rupee each into the bargain.
FOOTNOTES:
[50] It appears to me rather anomalous, as far as Hindoo astrology is
concerned, that such a national jubilee is fixed to be celebrated on
this particular day, which is specially marked as an unlucky day for any
good work. The Hindoo almanac places _Shasthi_, the sixth day of the
moon, as _dugdhá_ or destructive of any good thing in popular
estimation. A Hindoo is religiously forbidden to commence any important
work or set out on a journey on this day. It portends evil. Respectable
Hindoo females who have children do not eat boiled rice on this
particular day for fear of becoming Rakhasses, or cannibals prone to
destroy their own offspring. The goddess Shasthi is the protectress of
children. She is worshipped by all the women of Bengal six times in the
year, except such as are barren or ill-fated enough to become
virgin-widows.
VIII.
THE DOORGA POOJAH FESTIVAL.
By far the most popular religious festival of the present day among the
Hindoos of Bengal, is the _Doorga Poojah_, which in the North-Western
and Central Provinces is called the _Dusserah_ festival. It is believed
that the worship of the goddess Doorgah has been performed from time out
of mind. The following is a description of the image of the goddess
which is set up for worship: "In one of her right hands is a spear, with
which she is piercing the giant, Mohishasur; with one of the left, she
holds the tail of a serpent and the hair of the giant, whose breast the
serpent is biting. Her other hands are all stretched behind her head and
filled with different instruments of war. Against her right leg leans a
lion, and against her left, the above giant. The images of Luckee,
Saraswathi, Kartick and Gannesh are very frequently made and placed by
the side of the goddess." The majestic deportment of the goddess, with
her three eyes and ten arms, the warlike attitude in which she is
represented, her sanguinary character, which was the terror of all other
gods, and the mighty exploits (far surpassing in feats of strength,
courage and heroism, those of the Greek Hercules,) all combine to give
her an importance in the eyes of the people, which is seldom vouchsafed
to any other deity. Even _Bramah_, _Vishnoo_ and _Shiva_ the Creator,
Preserver and Destroyer of the world, were said to have propitiated her,
and _Ram Chunder_, the deified hero, invoked her aid in his contest with
_Ravana_, and as he worshipped her in the month of October, her Poojah
has, from that particular circumstance, been ever after appointed to
take place in that period of the year.[51] A short description of this
festival, the preliminary rites with which it is associated, and the
national excitement and hilarity which its periodical return produces
among the people, will not be altogether uninteresting to European
readers.[52]
Twenty-one days before the commencement of the Doorga Poojah festival, a
preliminary rite, by way of purifying the body and soul by means of
ablution, is performed. The rite is called the "_Aapar pakhaya tarpan_"
so called from its taking place on the first day of _Pratipad_ and
ending on the fifteenth day of _Amábashya_, an entire fortnight,
immediately preceding the _Debipakhya_ during which the Poojah is
celebrated. It generally falls between the fifteenth of September, and
the fifteenth of October. As already observed, this popular festival,
called Doorga Poojah in Bengal and Dussera "or the tenth" in the
North-West, although entirely military in its origin is universally
respected. It is commemorative of the day on which the god Rám Chunder
first marched against his enemy, Rávana, in _Lanka_ or Ceylon for the
restoration of his wife, Seeta,[53] who was deservedly regarded as the
best model of devotion, resignation and love, as is so beautifully
painted by the poet:
"A woman's bliss is found, not in the smile
Of father, mother, friend, nor in herself:
Her husband is her only portion here,
Her heaven hereafter. If thou indeed
Depart this day into the forest drear,
I will precede, and smooth the thorny way."
In the mornings of _Apar pakhaya_, for fifteen days continually, those
who live near the sacred stream go thither with a small copper-pan and
some teel seeds, which they sprinkle on the water at short intervals,
while repeating the formulæ in a state of half immersion. To a foreigner
quite unacquainted with the meaning of these rites, the scene is well
calculated to impress the mind with an idea of the exceeding devotedness
of the Hindoos in observing their religious ordinances. The holy water
and teel seeds which are sprinkled are intended as offerings to the
manes of ancestors for fourteen generations, that their souls may
continue to enjoy repose to all eternity. The women, though some of them
are in the habit of bathing in the holy stream every morning, are,
however, precluded by their sex from taking a part in this ceremony.
Precisely on the last day of the fortnight, _i. e._, on the _Amabáshya_,
as if the object were attained, the rite of ablution ends, followed by
another of a more comprehensive character. On this particular day, which
is called _Moháloyá_,[54] the living again pay their homage to the
memory of the fourteen generations of their ancestors by making them
offerings of rice, fruits, sweetmeats, clothes, curded milk, and
repeating the incantations said by the priest, at the conclusion of
which he takes away all the articles presented and receives his
_dakshiná_ of one Rupee for his trouble. Apart from their superstitious
tendency, these anniversaries, are not without their beneficial effects.
They tend, in no small degree, to inspire the mind with a religious
veneration for the memory of the departed worthies, and by the law of
the association of ideas not unfrequently bring to recollection their
distinctive features and individual characteristics.
Some aristocratic families that have been observing this festival for a
long series of years, begin their _Kalpa_ or preliminary rite on the
ninth day of the decrease of the moon, when an earthen water pot called
_ghat_[55] is placed in a room called _bodanghur_, duly consecrated by
the officiating priest, who, assisted by two other Brahmins, invokes the
blessing of the deity by reading a Sanskrit work, called _Chundee_,
which relates the numerous deeds and exploits of the goddess. It is a
noteworthy fact that the Brahmin, who repeats the name of the god,
_Modosoodun_, seems, to all appearance, to be absorbed in mental
abstraction. With closed eyes and moving fingers, not unlike the
_Rishis_ of old, he, as it were, disdains to look at the external world.
From early in the morning till 10 o'clock the worship before the earthen
pot is continued, and the officiating priests[56] are strictly
prohibited from using _sidha_, (rice) taking more than one meal a day,
or sleeping with their wives, as if that would be an act of unpardonable
profanation. This strict _regime_ is to be observed by them until the
whole of the ceremonial is completed, on the tenth day of the new moon.
It should be mentioned here that the majority of the Hindoos begin their
_kalpa_, or preliminary rite, on _pratipad_, or the beginning of the new
moon, when almost every town and village resounds with the sound of
conch, bell and gong, awakening latent religious emotions, and evoking
_agamaney_, (songs or inaugural invocations) which deeply affect the
hearts of Doorga's devout followers. Some of these rhythmic effusions
are exceedingly pathetic. I wish I could give a specimen here of these
songs divested of their idolatrous tinge, but I am afraid of offending
the ears of my European readers.
The Brahmins[57] as a rule, commence their _kalpa_ on the sixth day or
one day only previous to the beginning of the grand poojah on the
seventh day of the new moon. From the commencement of the initial rite,
what thrilling sensations of delight are awakened in the bosom of the
young boys and girls! Every morning and evening while the ceremony is
being solemnized, they scramble with each other to get striking the gong
and _Kasur_ which produces a harsh, deafening sound. Their excitement
increases in proportion to the nearer approach of the festival, and the
impression which they thus receive in their early days is not entirely
effaced even after their minds are regenerated by the irresistible light
of truth. The females, too, manifest mingled sensations of delight and
reverence. If they are incapable of striking the gongs, they are
susceptible of deep devotional feelings which the solemnity of the
occasion naturally inspires. The encircling of their neck with the end
of their _saree_ or garment, expressive of humility, the solemn attitude
in which they pose, their inaudible muttering of the name of the
goddess, and their prostrating themselves before the consecrated pot in
a spirit of perfect resignation, denote a state of mind full of
religious fervour, or, more properly speaking, of superstitious awe,
which goes with them to their final resting place. On the night of the
sixth day (Shashti) after the increase of the moon, another rite is
performed, which is termed _Uddhibassey_, its object being to welcome
the advent of the visible goddess with all necessary paraphernalia.
Another sacred earthen pot is placed in the outer temple of the goddess,
and a young plantain tree, with a couple of wood apples intended for the
breast, is trimmed for the next morning's ablution. This plantain tree,
called _kalabhoye_, is designed as a personification of Doorga in
another shape. It is dressed in a silk _saree_, its head is daubed with
vermilion[58] and is placed by the side of Gannesh. Musicians with
their ponderous _dhak_ and _dhole_ and _sannai_ (flutes) are retained
from this day for five days at 12 or 16 Rupees for the occasion.[59]
That music imparts a solemnity to religious service is admitted by all,
but its harmony may be taken as an indication of the degree of
excellence and refinement to which a nation has attained in the scale of
civilization. What with the sonorous sound of _dhak_ and _dhole_,
_sannai_, conch and gong, the effect cannot fail to be impressive to a
devout Hindoo mind. Except Brahmins, no one is allowed to touch the idol
from this night, after the _bellbarun_, when it is supposed life and
animation is imparted into it. By the marvellous repetition of a few
incantations a perfectly inanimate object stuffed only with clay and
straw, and painted, varnished and ornamented in all the tawdriness of
oriental fashion, is suddenly metamorphosed into a living divinity. Can
religious jugglery, and blind credulity go farther?
It will not be out of place to say a few words here about the
embellishments of the images. As a refined taste is being cultivated, a
growing desire is manifested to decorate the idols with splendid tinsel
and gewgaws, which are admirably calculated to heighten the magnificence
of the scene in popular estimation. Apart from the feast of colors
presented to public view, the idols are adorned with tinsel ornaments,
which, to an untutored mind, are in the highest degree captivating. Some
families that are placed in affluent circumstances, literally rack their
brains to discover new and more gaudy embellishments which, when
compared with those of their neighbours, might carry off the bubble
reputation. It is, perhaps, not generally known that a certain class of
men--chiefly drawn from the lower strata of society--subsist on this
trade; they prepare a magnificent stock of tinsel wares for a twelve
month, and supply the entire Hindoo community, from Calcutta to the
remotest provinces and villages. Indeed so great is the rage for novelty
and so strong the influence of vanity, that not content with costly home
made ornaments, some of the Baboos send their orders to England for new
patterns, designs and devices, that they may be able to make an
impression on the popular mind; and as English taste is incomparably
superior to native taste, both in the excellence and finish of
workmanship as well as in neatness and elegance, the images that shine
in new fashioned English embellishments[60] are sure to challenge the
admiration of the populace. On the day of _Nirunjun_, or _Vhasan_ as it
is vulgarly called, countless myriads of people throng the principal
streets of Calcutta, to catch a glimpse of the celebrated _pritimas_, or
images, and carry the information home to their absent friends in the
villages.
Before sunrise on _Saptami_, or the seventh day of the bright phase of
the moon, the officiating priest, accompanied by bands of musicians and
a few other members of the family, proceeds barefooted to the river side
bearing on his shoulder the _kalabhoye_ or plantain tree described above
with an air of gravity as if he had charge of a treasure chest of great
value. These processions are conducted with a degree of pomp
corresponding with the other extraneous splendours of the festival. In
Calcutta, bands of English musicians, and numbers of staff holders with
high flying colors, give an importance to the scene, which is not ill
suited to satisfy the vulgar taste. After performing some minor
ceremonies on the banks of the river, and bathing the plantain tree,
the procession returns home, escorting the officiating priest with his
precious charge in the same way in which he was conveyed to the Ghât. On
reaching home, the priest, washing his feet, proceeds to rebathe the
plantain tree, rubbing on its body all kinds of scented oils[61] as if
to prepare it for a gay, convivial party. This part of the ceremony,
with appropriate incantations, being gone through, the plantain tree is
placed again by the side of the image of Gannesh, who being the eldest
son of Doorga, must be worshipped _first_. Thus the right of precedence
of rank is in full force even among the Hindoo gods and goddesses.
Previous to the commencement of the _Saptami_, or first Pooja, the
officiating priest again consecrates the goddess Doorga, somewhat in the
following manner: "Oh, goddess, come and dwell in this image, and bless
him that worships you," naming the person, male or female, who is to
reap the benefit of the meritorious act. Thus, the business of giving
life and eyes to the gods being finished, the priest, with two
forefingers of his right hand, touches the forehead, cheeks, eyes,
breast and other parts of the image, repeating all the while the
prescribed incantation: "May the soul of Doorga long continue to dwell
in this image." This part of the ceremony, which is accompanied with
music, being performed, offerings are made to all the gods and
goddesses, as well as to the companions of Doorga in her wars, which are
painted in variegated colors on the _chall_ or shed over the goddess in
the form of a crescent. The offerings consist principally of small
pieces of gold and silver, rice, fruits, sweetmeats, cloths, brass
utensils and a few other things. These are arranged in large round
wooden or brass plates, and a bit of flower or _bell_ leaf is cast upon
them to guard against their being desecrated by the demon Ravana, who is
supposed to take delight in insulting the gods and goddesses; the
officiating priest then consecrates them all by repeating a short mantra
and sprinkling flowers and _bell_ leaves on them, particular regard
being had to the worship of the whole host of deities according to their
respective position in the Hindoo pantheon. Even the most subordinate
and insignificant gods or companions of Doorga must be propitiated by
small bits of plantain and a few grains of rice, which are afterwards
given to the idol makers and painters of the gods and goddesses. More
valuable offerings form the portion of the Brahmins, who look upon and
claim these as their birthright. In the evening, as in the morning, the
goddess is again worshipped, and while the service is being held the
musicians are called to play their musical instruments with a view to
add to the solemnity of the occasion. In the morning, some persons
sacrifice goats and fruits, such as pumpkin, sugar-cane, &c., before the
goddess. In the present day, many respectable families have discontinued
the practice from a feeling of compassion towards the dumb animals,
though express injunctions are laid down in the Shasters in its favor.
It is a remarkable fact that the idea of sacrifice as a religious
institution tending to effect the remission of sin was almost
co-existent with the first dawn of human knowledge. The Reverend Dr. K.
M. Banerjea thus writes: "Of the inscrutable Will of the Almighty, that
without shedding of blood there is no remission of sin, this, too,
appears imbedded in ancient Ayrian tradition in the _sruti_ or hearings
of our ancestors." Next to the Jews, this religious duty was
scrupulously observed by the Brahmins. Names of priests, words for fire,
for those on whose behalf the sacrifices were performed, for the
materials with which they were performed, abound in language
etymologically derived from words implying sacrifice. No literature
contains so many vocables relating to sacrificial ceremonies as
Sanskrit. Katyayana says, "that heaven and all other happiness are the
results of sacrificial ceremonies. And it was a stereotyped idea with
the founders of Hindooism that animals were created for sacrifices. Nor
were these in olden days considered mere offerings of meat to certain
carnivorous deities, followed by the sacrificers themselves feasting on
the same, as the practice of the day represents the idea. The various
nature of the sacrifices appears to have been substantially comprehended
by the promoters of the institution in India. The sacrificer believed
himself to be redeemed by means of the sacrifice. The animal sacrificed
was itself called the sacrifice, because it was the ransom for the
soul." If we leave India and go back to the tradition and history of the
other ancient nations, we shall find many instances, proving the
existence among them of the sacrificial rite for the remission of sin
and the propitiation of the Deity. The hecatombs of Greece, and the
memorable dedication of the temple of Solomon when 20,000 oxen[62] and
100,000 sheep were slain before the altar, are too well known to need
any comment.
In these later ages, when degeneracy has made rapid strides amongst the
people of the country, the original intention of the founder of the
institution being lost sight of, a perverted taste has given it an
essentially sensual character. Instead of offering sacrifice from purely
religious motives, it is now made for the gratification of carnivorous
appetite. The late King of Nuddea, Rajah Kristo Chunder Roy, though an
orthodox Hindoo of the truest type, was said to have offered at one of
these festivals a very large number of goats and sheep to the goddess
Doorga. "He began," says Ward, "with one, and, doubling the number each
day, continued it for sixteen days. On the last day, he killed 33,168,
and on the whole he slaughtered 65,535 animals. He loaded boats with the
bodies and sent them to the neighbouring Brahmins, but they could not
devour them fast enough, and great numbers were thrown away. Let no one,
after this, tell us of the scruples of the Brahmins about destroying
animal life and eating animal food."
About twelve o'clock in the day, when the morning service is over, the
male members of the family make their _poospaunjooley_ or offerings of
flowers to the images, repeating an incantation recited by the priest,
for all kinds of worldly blessings, such as health, wealth, fame, long
age, children, &c. The women come in afterwards for the same hallowed
purpose, and inaudibly recite the incantation repeated by the priest
inside the screen. The very sight of the images gladdens their hearts
and quickens their throbs. Though fasting, they feel an extreme
reluctance to leave the shrine and the divinities, declaring that their
hunger and thirst are gone not from actual excess in eating and drinking
but from their fullness of heart at the presence of _Ma Doorga_. But go
they must to make way for the servants to remove the offerings,
distribute them among the Brahmins, and clean the temple for the evening
service, at the close of which Brahmins and other guests begin to come
in and partake of the entertainment[63] provided for the occasion.
On the second day of the Poojah, offerings and sacrifices are made in
the same manner as on the first day, but this is considered a specially
holy day, being the day, as is generally supposed, when the mighty
goddess is expected to come down from the mount Himalaya, and cast a
twinkling of her eye upon the divers offerings of her devotees in the
terrestrial world. This day is called _Moha Ustamy_, being the eighth
day of the increase of the moon, and is religiously observed throughout
Bengal. In Calcutta, this is the day when thousands and tens of
thousands of Hindoos, who have had no Poojah in their houses, proceed to
Kalyghât in the suburbs, and do not break their fast before making
suitable offerings to the goddess Kali, who, according to Hindoo
mythology, is but another incarnation of the goddess, Doorga. Except
little children, almost all the members of a family, male and female,
together with the priest, fast all day, and, if the combination of stars
require it, almost the whole night. Elderly men of the orthodox type
devote the precious time to religious contemplation. Until the _Moha
Ustamy_, and its necessary adjunct _Shundya Poojah_, is finished, all
are on the _qui vive_. It generally happens that this service is fixed
by astrologers to take place before night's midmost stillest hour is
past, when nature seems to repose in a state of perfect quiescence, and
to call forth the religious fervour of the devotees. As the edge of
hunger is sharpened, a Hindoo most anxiously looks at his watch or clock
as to when the precious moment should arrive, and as the hour draws
near, men, women and children are all hushed into silence. Not a whisper
nor a buzzing sound is to be heard. All is anxiety, suspense and
expectation, as if the arrival of the exact time would herald the advent
of a true Saviour into the world. Amid perfect silence and stillness,
all ears are stretched to catch the sound of the gun[64] which announces
the _precise minute_ when this most important of all Poojahs is to
begin. As soon as the announcement is made by the firing of a gun, the
priest in all haste enters on the work of worship, and invokes the
blessings of the goddess on himself and the family. When the time of
sacrifice arrives, which is made known by the sound of another gun, all
the living souls in the house are bade to stand aloof, the priest with
trembling hands and in a state of trepidation consecrates the _Kharra_,
or scimitar, with which the sacrifice is to be made, and placing the
_Khaparer sara_ by the side of the _haureekat_, (the sacrificial log of
wood) bids the blacksmith finish off his bloody job. Should the latter
cut the head of a goat off at one stroke, all eyes are turned towards
him with joy. The priest, the master, and the inmates of the house, who
are all this while under the influence of mental agitation, now begin to
congratulate each other on their good luck, praying for the return of
the goddess every year.
Nor must I omit to mention the other secondary rites which are performed
on the second day of the Poojah. Besides absolute fasting, the females
of the household actually undergo a fiery ordeal. About one in the
afternoon, when the tumult and bustle have subsided a little, all males
being told to go away, the women unveiling their faces, and holding in
each hand a _sara_ or earthen plate of rosin, squat down before the
shrine of the goddess, and in the posture of quasi-penitent sinners,
implore in a fervent spirit the benediction of the goddess on behalf of
their sons, while the rosin continues to burn in slow fire. As if dead
to a sense of consciousness, they remain in that trying state for more
than half an hour, absorbed, as it were, in holy meditation, repeating
in their minds, at the same time, the names of their guardian deities.
Towards the close of this penitent service, a son is asked to sit on the
lap of his mother. Barren women to whom Providence has denied this
inestimable blessing must go without this domestic felicity resulting in
religious consolation, and not only mourn their present forlorn
condition, but pray for a happier one at next birth. A few puncture
their breasts with a slender iron _naroon_ or nail cutter, and offer a
few drops of blood to the goddess, under a delusion that the severer the
penance the greater the merit. Many women still go through this truly
revolting ordeal at Kali Ghât, in fulfilment of vows made in times of
sickness.
Another ceremony which is performed by the females on this particular
day is their worship of living Brahmin _Komarees_ (virgins) and matrons
(_sodhavas_). After washing and wiping the feet of the objects of their
worship, with folded hands, and, with the end of their _sari_ round
their necks, in a reverential mood, they fall prostrate before the
Brahmin women, and crave blessings, which, when graciously vouchsafed,
are followed by offerings of sweetmeats, clothes and rupees. The purpose
of this ceremony is to obtain exemption from the indescribable misery of
widowhood, and ensure the enjoyment of domestic happiness.
On the third or last day of the Poojah, being the ninth day of the
increase of the moon, the prescribed ritualistic ceremonies having been
performed, the officiating priests make the _hoam_ and _dhukinanto_, a
rite, the meaning of which is to present farewell offerings to the
goddess for one year, adding in a suitable prayer that she will be
graciously pleased to forgive the present shortcomings on the part of
her devotees, and vouchsafe to them her blessings in this world as well
as in the world to come. This is a very critical time for the priests,
because the finale of the ceremony involves the important question of
their respective gains. Weak and selfish as human nature assuredly is,
each of them (generally three in number) fights for his own individual
interest, justifying his claim on the score of the religious austerities
he has had to undergo, and the devotional fervour with which his sacred
duties have been discharged. Until this knotty question is
satisfactorily solved, they forbear pronouncing the last _munter_ or
prayer. It is necessary to add here that the presents of rupees which
the numerous guests offered to the goddess during the three days of the
Poojah, go to swell the fund of the priest, to which the worshipper of
the idol must add a separate sum, without which this act of merit loses
its final reward in a future state. The devotee must satisfy the
cupidity of the priests or run the risk of forfeiting divine mercy. When
the problem is ultimately solved in favor of the officiating priest who
actually makes the Poojah, and sums of money are put into the hands of
the Brahmins, the last prayer is read. It is not perhaps generally known
that the income the Indian ecclesiastics thus derive from this source
supports them for the greater part of the year, with a little gain in
money or kind from the land they own.
The last day of the Poojah is attended with many offerings of goats,
sheep, buffaloes[65] and fruits. The area before the shrine becomes a
sort of slaughter house, slippery with gore and mire, and resounding
with the cries of the dying victims, and the still more vociferous
shouts of "_Ma, Ma,_" uttered by the rabble amidst the discordant sound
of gongs and drums. Some of the deluded devotees, losing all sense of
shame and decency, smear their bodies from head to foot with this bloody
mire, and begin to dance before the goddess and the assembled multitude
like wild furies. In this state of bestial fanaticism, utterly ignoring
the ordinary rules of public decorum, and literally intoxicated with the
glory of the meritorious act, the deluded mob, preceded by musicians,
proceed from one house to another in the neighbourhood where the image
has been set up, sing obscene songs, and otherwise make indecent
gestures which are alike an outrage on public morals and common decency.
When quite exhausted by these abominable orgies, they go and bathe in a
river or a tank, and return home, thinking how to make the most of the
last night. Should any sober-minded person remonstrate with them on
their foolish conduct, the stereotyped reply is--"this is _Mohamayer
Bazar_ and the last day of the Poojah, when all sorts of tomfoolery and
revelry are justifiable." The sensible portion of the community, it must
be mentioned, keep quite aloof from such immoral exhibitions.
However great may have been the veneration or the depth of devotional
feeling in which the Doorga Poojah was held among the Hindoos of bygone
ages, it is certain that in the lapse of time this and all other
national festivals have lost their original religious character, and in
the majority of cases degenerated into profanities and impure orgies,
which renew the periodical license for the unrestrained indulgence of
sensuality, not to speak of the dissipation and debauchery which it
usually brings in its train. Except a few patriarchal Hindoos, whose
minds are deeply imbued with religious prepossessions as well as
traditional proclivities, the generality celebrate the Poojah for the
sake of name and fame, no less than for the purposes of amusement, and
for the satisfaction of the women and children, who still retain, and
will continue to do so for a long time to come, a profound veneration
for the old _Doorga Uttsob_. Apart from the children, whose minds are
susceptible of any impression in their nascent state, the women are the
main prop of the idolatrous institutions and of the colossal
superstructure of Hindoo superstition. If I am not much mistaken, it was
to satisfy them that such distinguished Hindoo Reformers as the late
Baboos Dwarkeynauth Tagore, Prosonocoomar Tagore, Romanauth Tagore, Ram
Gopal Ghose, Digumber Mitter and others celebrated this Poojah in their
family dwelling houses. How far they were morally justified in
countenancing this popular festival, it is not for me to say. The fact
speaks for itself. Even in the present time, when Hindoo society is
being profoundly convulsed by heterodox opinions, not a few of my
enlightened countrymen observe this religious festival, and spend
thousands of rupees on its celebration. There are, however, a few
redeeming features in connection with this annual demonstration, which
ought to be prominently noticed. First and foremost, it affords an
excellent opportunity for the exercise of benevolent feelings;[66]
secondly, it materially contributes to the promotion of annual reunions,
brotherly fraternization, and to the general encouragement of trade
throughout Bengal.
The very great interest which Hindoo females feel in the periodical
return of this grand festival, is known to every one who is at all
conversant with the existing state of things in this country. In the
numerous districts and villages of Bengal inaugural preparations are
made for the celebration of this anniversary rite precisely from the day
on which the Juggernauth car is drawn in _Assar_, from the date of the
festival of Ruth Jattra, that is for about four months before the date
of the Doorga Poojah. While the _koomar_, or the image maker, is engaged
in making the Bamboo frame-work for the images, the women in the
villages devote their time to cleaning and storing the rice, paddy,
different kinds of pulse, cocoanuts, and other products of the farm, all
which are required for the service of the goddess. Ten times a day they
will go to the temple to see what the Koomar is doing. Not capable of
writing, nor having any idea of 'Letts' Diaries,' they note down in
their minds the daily progress of work, and feel an ineffable pleasure
in communicating the glad tidings to each other. When day by day the
straw forms are converted into clay figures, and they are for the first
time plastered over with chalk and then painted with variegated colors,
the hearts of the females leap with joy, and again when the completed
images are being decorated with _dack_ ornaments or tinsel ware, their
exhilaration knows no bounds. In the fulness of anxiety, the mistress of
the house directing her attention to what more is yet wanted for the due
completion of the Poojah, rebukes the master for his apparent neglect
somewhat in the following manner: "Where is the _dome sujah_,
(basketware)? Where is the _koomar sujah_, (pottery)? Where are the
spices and clothes? Where are the _sidoorchupry_ and sundry other things
for the _Barandalla?_" Adding that there is no time to be lost, the
Poojah is near at hand. The husband acquiescing in what the wife says
assures her that everything shall be procured by Saturday or Sunday
next.
On the first day of the new moon, when every Hindoo in the city becomes
more or less busy on account of his official, domestic and religious
engagements, the lady of the house is chiefly occupied with making
suitable arrangements for _tutwa_ or presents, first to her son-in-law
and then to her other relatives, a subject on which I shall have to say
a few words in its proper place. On the eve of the sixth day of the new
moon, when the grand Poojah may be said to commence, the females,
consigning all their past sorrows to oblivion, feel a sort of
elasticity, hopefulness and confidence which almost involuntarily draw
forth from the depths of their hearts, feelings of joy and ecstacy. Even
a virgin widow, whose grief is yet fresh, forgets her miseries for
awhile, and cheerfully mingles in the jubilee. She forms part and parcel
of the domestic sisterhood, and for the five days of her life at least,
her settled sadness gives way to pleasing sensations, and though
forbidden by a cruel priesthood to lend her hand to the ceremonial, she
nevertheless goes up to the goddess and prays in a devotional spirit for
a better future. Amidst such a scene of universal hilarity, supplemented
by a confident hope of eternal beatitude, it is quite natural that
Hindoo females, socially divorced from every other innocent amusement,
should feel a deep, sincere and intense interest in such a national
festival which possesses the two fold advantages of a religious ceremony
and a social demonstration. None but the most callous hearted can remain
indifferent. Men, women and children, believers and unbelievers, are
alike overcome by the force of this religious anniversary. The females
go to the temple at all hours of the day, and feast their eyes upon the
captivating figure of mighty Doorga and her glorious satellites. Nor do
they stare at her with a vacant mind; each has her grievance to
represent, her wish to express; prayer in a fervent spirit is offered to
the goddess for the redress of the one and the consummation of the
other. Should a son die prematurely, should a husband suffer from any
difficulty, should a son-in-law be not true to his wife, should a
daughter be doomed to widowhood, the females wrestle hard in prayer for
relief and amelioration. On the fourth or Bijoya day, when the image is
to be consigned to the river, one takes away a bit of the consecrated
_urghy_[67]; a second, the _khappurer sara_, or the sacrificial earthen
plate; a third, the crushed betel; a fourth, the sacred _billaw_ leaves,
and so on; each forms a sacred trust, and all are preserved with the
greatest possible care, as the priceless heirloom of a benignant
goddess.
Having briefly described the main features of this religious festival, I
will now endeavour to give a short account of the other circumstances
connected with it. In the house of a Brahmin, _Khichree_, rice, dhall,
fish and vegetable curries, together with sweetmeats and sour milk, are
given to the guests, chiefly in the day time during the three Pooja
days. Many Hindoos, whose religious scruples will not allow them to kill
a goat themselves, generally go to the house of a Brahmin--but not
without an eight anna piece or a Rupee--to satisfy their carnivorous
appetite during the Poojah. It is very creditable to the women of the
sacerdotal class that three or four of them undertake the duty of the
_cuisine_, and feed from six to eight hundred persons for three days
successively. As fish is not acceptable to Doorga, neither cooked goat's
and sheep's flesh, a separate kitchen is set apart for the purpose of
cooking meat of sacrificed animals. Brahmin women, as a rule, cook
remarkably well. Their long experience in the culinary art, their
habitual cleanliness, their undivided attention to their duty, and above
all, the religious awe with which they prepare food for the goddess,
give quite a relish to every thing they make. Nor is this all. Their
devotion and earnestness is so great that they cannot be persuaded to
eat any thing until all the guests are fully satisfied, and what is
still more commendable, they look to no other reward for their trouble
than the fancied approbation of the goddess, and the satisfaction of the
guests. It is not before nine o'clock at night that they become
disengaged, after which they bathe again, change clothes, say their
prayers to the goddess, and then think of appeasing their hunger. Simple
and unartificial as they naturally are, they, being mostly widows, are
quite content with _habishi unno_, which was of yore the food of the
Hindoo _rishis_ or saints. It consists of _autob_ rice, or rice from
unboiled paddy, green plantain and dhall, all boiled in the same pot. Of
course a large quantity of ghee is added to it, and at the time of
eating milk is taken. These Brahmin women are, indeed, mistresses of the
culinary art, if the bill of fare is not long, yet the dishes they make
are generally very palatable. The truth is, they practically follow the
trite saying, "what is worth doing at all, is worth doing well." Their
simple recipes always produce appetising and wholesome dishes, they are
thrifty housewives. It must be admitted that simplicity is not meanness,
nor thriftiness a fault.
In the house of a _Kayasta_ or _Sudra_, whose female members, it must be
observed, are generally more indolently inclined, and whose style of
living is consequently more luxurious, the food offered to the guests
consists chiefly of different kinds of sweetmeats, fruits, _loochees_,
vegetable curries, &c. Four or five days before the Poojah begins,
professional Brahmin sweetmeat-makers are employed to make the
necessary arrangements at home, the principal ingredients required
being flour, _soojee_, _chattoo_, (gram fried and powdered) _safeyda_
(pounded rice) sugar, spices, almonds, raisins, &c. Not a soul is
permitted, not even the master of the house, to touch and much less
taste these articles[68] before they are religiously offered to the
goddess in the first instance and afterwards to the Brahmins. In these
"feast days" of the Poojah in and about Calcutta, where nearly five
hundred _pratimas_ or images are set up, every respectable Hindoo, as
has been observed before, is previously provided at home with an
adequate supply of all the necessaries and luxuries of life that would
last about a month or so, it being considered unpropitious then to be
wanting in any store, save fruit and fish. This accounts for a general
disinclination on the part of the well-to-do Baboos to partake of any
ordinary entertainment when visiting the goddess at a friend's house,
but to the Brahmins and the poverty-stricken classes this is a glorious
opportunity for "gorging." The despicable practice to which I have
alluded elsewhere of carrying a portion of the _jalpan_ (food) home is
largely resorted to on this occasion. It is certainly a relic of
barbarism, which the growing good sense of the people ought to eschew.
The night of the ninth day of the increase of the moon is a grand night
in Bengal. It is the _nabamee ratree_, and modesty is put to the blush
by the revelry of the hour. The houses of the rich become as bright as
the day, costly chandeliers, hanging lamps and wall lights burning with
gas, brilliantly illuminate the whole mansion, while the walls of the
_Boytuckhana_ or sitting room are profusely adorned with English and
French paintings and engravings, exhibiting certainly not the best
specimens of artistic skill, but singularly calculated to extort the
plaudits of the illiterate, because engravings and pictures are the
books of the unlearned, who are more easily impressed through the eye
than the ear. All the rooms and antechambers are frequently furnished in
European style. Splendid Brussels or Agra carpets are spread on the
floors of the rooms, a few of which, as if by way of contrast, have the
ordinary white cloth spread on them. Nor are hanging Punkhas wanting. In
one of the spacious halls sits the Baboo of the house, surrounded by
courtiers pandering to his vanity. Indolently reclining on a bolster,
and leisurely smoking his _álbollah_ with a long winding _nal_ or pipe,
half dizzy from the effects of last night's revelry, he feels loath to
speak much. Like an opium eater, he falls into a siesta, whilst the
Punkah is moving incessantly. If an orthodox Hindoo, freed from the
besetting vice of drinking, and awake to all that is going on around
him, before him are placed the Dacca silver filagree worked _atterdan_
and _golappass_, as well as the _pandan_ with lots of spices and betel
in it. On entering the room, the olfactory nerves of a visitor are sure
to be regaled with fragrant odours. At intervals rose water is sprinkled
on the bodies of the guests, and weak spiced tobacco is served them
every fifteen minutes, the current topics of the day forming the subject
of conversation. All this is surely vain ostentation and superfluity. So
far the arrangements and reception of friends are essentially
_oriental_, the manner of sitting, the mode of conversation, and the way
in which otto of roses, rose water and betel are given to guests are
Mahomedan and Hindoo-like, but there is something beyond this; here
orthodoxy is virtually proscribed and heterodoxy practically proclaimed.
While the officiating priests and the female devotees are offering their
prayers to the presiding goddess, the Baboo, a liberal Hindoo, longs to
retire to his _private_ room, perhaps on the third storey, at the
entrance of which a guard is placed to keep off unwelcome visitors,
that he might partake of refreshments supplied by an English Purveying
Establishment with a few select friends. The room is furnished after
European fashion, chairs, tables, sofas, cheffoniers, cheval glass,
sideboard, pictures, glass and silver and plated ware, knives, forks and
spoons, and I know not what more, are all arranged in proper order, and
friends of congenial tastes have free access. First class wines and
viands, such as Giesler's champagne, Heatly's Port and Sherry, Exshaw's
Brandy No. I, Crabbie's Ginger wine, Bass's best bottled beer, soda
water, lemonade, ice, Huntley and Palmer's mixed biscuits, manilla
cigars, cakes and fruits in heaps, _poloway_, _kurma_, _kupta_,
_kallya_, roast fowl, cutlets, mutton chop and fowl curry,[69] are at
your service, and an English visitor is not an unwelcome guest.
_Loochee_, _Sundesh mittoye_, _burfi_, _rasagullah_, _sittavog_, &c.,
the ordinary food of the Hindoos on festive days, are at a discount. The
Great Eastern Hotel Company should be thankful for the large orders
which the Hindoo aristocracy of Calcutta and its suburbs favor them with
during this grand festival. The taste for the English style of living is
not a plant of recent growth. It has been germinating since the days of
John Company, when India merchantmen enjoyed the monopoly of the foreign
trade of the country, when the highest authorities of the land had no
religious scruples as Christians to be present at a Hindoo festival,
when, in fact, Hindoo millionaires were wont to indulge in lavish
expenditure[70] for the purpose of pleasing their new European masters.
Leaving aside the dignity and gravity of the clerical profession for a
while, the Reverend Mr. Ward was induced out of curiosity to pay a visit
to the palatial mansion of the Shoba Bazar Rajahs of Calcutta on the
last night of the Poojah.
"In the year 1806," says he, "I was present at the worship of this
goddess, as performed at the house of Rajah Rajkishnu at Calcutta. The
buildings where the festival was held were on four sides, leaving an
area in the middle. The room to the east contained wine, English
sweetmeats, &c., for the entertainment of English guests, with a native
Portuguese or two to wait on the visitors. In the opposite room was
placed the image, with vast heaps of all kinds of offerings before it.
In the two side rooms, were the native guests, and in the area groups of
Hindoo dancing women, finely dressed, singing, and dancing with sleepy
steps, surrounded with Europeans who were sitting on chairs and couches.
One or two groups of Mussulman-men singers entertained the company at
intervals with Hindoosthanee songs, and ludicrous tricks. Before two
o'clock the place was cleared of the dancing girls, and of all the
Europeans except ourselves, and almost all the lights were extinguished,
except in front of the goddess,--when the doors of the area were thrown
open, and a vast crowd of natives rushed in, almost treading one upon
another, among whom were the vocal singers, having on long caps like
sugar loaves. The area might be about fifty cubits long and thirty wide.
When the crowd had sat down, they were so wedged together as to present
the appearance of a solid pavement of heads, a small space only being
left immediately before the image for the motions of the singers, who
all stood up. Four sets of singers were present on this occasion, the
first consisting of Brahmins, (_Huru Thacoor_), the next of bankers,
(_Bhuvanundu_), the next of boeshnuvus, (_Nitaee_), and the last of
weavers, (_Lukshmee_), who entertained their guests with filthy songs
and danced in indecent attitudes before the goddess, holding up their
hands, turning round, putting forward their heads towards the image,
every now and then bending their bodies, and almost tearing their
throats with their vociferations. The whole scene produced on my mind
sensations of the greatest horror. The dress of the singers, their
indecent gestures, the abominable nature of the songs, (especially
_khayoor_) the horrid din of their miserable drum, the lateness of the
hour, the darkness of the place, with the reflection that I was
standing in an idol temple, and that this immense multitude of rational
and immortal creatures, capable of superior joys, were in the very act
of worship, perpetrating a crime of high treason against the God of
heaven, while they themselves believed they were performing an act of
merit, excited ideas and feelings in my mind which time can never
obliterate. I would have given in this place a specimen of the songs
sung before the image, but found them so full of broad obscenity that I
could not copy a single line. All those actions which a sense of decency
keeps out of the most indecent English songs, are here detailed, sung,
and laughed at, without the least sense of shame. A poor ballad singer
in England would be sent to the house of correction, and flogged, for
performing the _meritorious actions_ of these wretched idolaters.[71]
The singing is continued for three days from two o'clock in the morning
till nine."
It is a noteworthy fact that in those days when Bengal was in the zenith
of its prosperity and splendour, the Governor-General, the members of
the Council, the judges of the Supreme Court, and distinguished officers
and merchants, did not think it derogatory to their dignity, or at all
calculated to compromise their character as Christians, to honor the
Rajahs with their presence during this festival, but since the days of
Daniel Wilson, the highly venerated Lord Bishop of Calcutta, who must
have expressed his strong disapprobation of this practice, these great
men have ceased to attend. At present but a few young officers, captains
of ships in the port and East Indians may be seen to go to these
nautches, and as a necessary consequence of this withdrawal of
countenance, the outward splendour of the festival has of late
considerably diminished. Seeing the apparent approval of idolatrous
ceremonies by some Europeans, a conscientious Christian once exclaimed:
"I am not ashamed to confess that I fear more for the continuance of the
British power in India, from the encouragement which Englishmen have
given to the idolatry of the Hindoos, than from any other quarter
whatever."[72]
As regards the other amusements at this popular festival, a few words
about the Indian _nautch_ (dancing) girls may not be out of place here.
These women have no social status, their principles are as loose as
their character is immoral. They are brought up to this disreputable
profession from their infancy. They have no husbands, and many of them
are never married. The Native Princes, and chiefs, rich zemindars and
persons in affluent circumstances, the capacity of whose intellect is as
stinted as its culture is scanty, have been their great patrons. Devoid
of a taste for reading and writing, they managed to drive the ennui of
their lives by the songs of these dancing girls. Great were the rewards
which they sometimes received at the hands of the Native kings in their
palmy days. When a Principality groaned under extravagance and financial
embarrassment, these bewitching girls were entertained at considerable
expense to drown the cares of state-craft and king-craft. Even the most
astute prince was not free from this courtly profligacy. Though these
girls often basked in the sunshine of royal favor, yet there was not a
single _Jenny Lind_ among them either in grace or accomplishment. As
regards their income, a girl has been known to refuse ten thousand
Rupees for performing three nights at the Nazim's Court. When Rajah
Rajkissen of Sobha Bazar, the Singhee family of Jorasanko, and the Dey
family of Simla, celebrated these Poojahs with great pomp, dancing girls
of repute were retained a month previous to the festival at great cost,
varying from 500 to 1000 Rupees each for three nights. Now that those
prosperous days are gone by, and the big English officials do not
condescend to attend the nautch, the amount has been reduced to fifty
Rupees or a little more. Their general attire and gestures, as well as
the nature and tendency of their songs, are by no means unexceptionable.
These auxiliaries to sensual gratification, combined with the
allurements of Bacchus, even in the presence of a deity, are the least
of all fitted to animate or quicken devotional feelings and prayerful
thoughts.
Theatrical performances from the popular dramas of the Indian poets, and
amateur _jattras_, pantomimical exhibitions, also contribute largely to
the amusement of the people. The old _Bidday Soonder_, _Maunvunjun_,
_Dukha Juggo_, and others of a similar character are still relished by
pleasure-seekers and holiday-makers. It is, however, one of the healthy
signs of the times that native gentlemen of histrionic taste have
recently got up amateur performances, which bear a somewhat close
approximation to the English tragedies and comedies.
Having previously described all the important circumstances and details,
religious and social, connected with this popular festival, I will now
give a short account of the Bhásán or _Nirunjun_ which takes place on
the tenth day of the new moon, or in the fourth day of the Poojah. It is
also called _Bíjoyá_, because the end of a ceremonial is always attended
with melancholy feelings. This is the day when the image is consigned to
water either of a river or tank. Apart from its religious significance,
the day is an important one to English and Native merchants alike.
Although all the public offices, Government and mercantile, are
absolutely closed for twelve days, agents of Manchester and Glasgow
firms must open their places of business on this particular day, which
to native merchants and dealers is an auspicious day when large bargains
of Piece Goods for present and forward delivery are made. Ten to fifteen
lakhs of Rupees worth of articles are sold this day in three or four
hours, the general impression being that such bargains bring good luck
both to the buyer and the seller.
About eight o'clock in the morning, the officiating priest begins the
service, and in half an hour it is over. Music, the indispensable
accompaniment of Hindoo Poojahs, must attend every such service. A small
looking-glass is placed on a pan of Ganges water and every inmate of the
family, male or female, is invited to see the shadow or rather the
reflex of the goddess on its surface. Deeply imbued as the minds of the
votaries are with religious ideas, every individual looks on the mirror
with a sort of devotional feeling, and expresses his or her conviction
as to the reality of the representation. The children, more from
amusement than faith, hang about the place, but the females steadfastly
cling to the panoramic view, quite unwilling to leave it. Though totally
ignorant of the philosophical theory of the association or suggestion of
ideas, the scene naturally presents to their mind's eye the emotions
they feel when leaving the paternal roof for the father-in-law's house.
"_Ma Doorga_ is going to her father-in-law's and will not return for
another twelve month," exclaims one. "Look at her eyes, her sorrowful
countenance," ejaculates another. "The temple will look wild and
desolate when _Ma Doorga_ goes away," adds a third. To console them, the
mistress of the house exhorts all to offer their prayers to the goddess,
beseeching that she may continue to vouchsafe her blessings from year to
year, and give prolonged life and happiness to all concerned. With this
solemn invocation, they, each and every one, fall down on their knees
before the goddess, whose spirit had departed on the day previous, and
in a contemplative mood implore her benediction. Before retiring,
however, every one takes with her some precious relic of the offerings
(flowers or _billaputtra_) made to Doorga when her spirit was present,
and preserves it with all the care of a divine gift, using it
religiously in cases of sickness and calamity.
About three in the afternoon, after washing their bodies and putting on
new clothes and ornaments, the females make preparations for performing
the last and farewell ceremony in honor of the goddess. The _sudder_
(main) door is closed, musicians are ordered to go out in the streets,
the Doorga with all her satellites is brought out into the area of the
temple, the _barandálláh_ with all its sundries is produced, and the
females whose husbands are alive begin to turn round the images and
touch the forehead of each and every one of the deities with the
_barandálláh_, repeating their prayers for lasting blessings on the
family. To the inexpressible grief of the widows, who are present on the
occasion, a cruel institution has long since debarred them from
assisting in this holy work. These ill-fated creatures are doomed only
to stare at the images, but are not permitted to take an active part in
the ceremonial. Is it possible to conceive a more gloomy picture of
society than that which absolutely expunges from a human breast all
traces of a religious privilege the exercise of which, though under a
mistaken faith, tends to sweeten a wretched life? The miserable widows
of India are unhappily destined to pine away their existence until
greater leaders of native reforms arise and deliver them from the
galling fetters of superstition.
The epilogue which closes the parting ceremony is called the
_kanakánjally_, which consists in a woman (not a widow) taking a small
brass plate of paddy and _doova_ grass with a Rupee dyed in red lead in
it, and throwing it from the fore part of the image right over its head
into the cloth of a man who stands behind for the purpose of receiving
it. This last offering, it is needless to say, is preserved with the
greatest care. The female who performs the rite is an object of envy.
This rite being performed, the females take each a bit of the sweetmeat
and betel which has been _last_ offered to _Ma Doorga_. A sudden
reaction of feeling takes place, all hearts are grieved, and some
actually shed tears. Two sensations, though not exactly analogous, arise
in their minds; first the religious part of the festival, and the
consequent arousal of a devotional spirit, vividly reminding one of the
unceasing round of ritualistic ceremonies as well as festivity and
gaiety that the presence of the goddess naturally enough produced, and
which are about to vanish and disappear in an hour by the immersion of
the goddess in the river or pond; and second, a worldly one, the
recurrence of the idea when a mother sends her daughter to the house of
her father-in-law. In either case, the tender heart of a Hindoo female
easily breaks down under the pressure of grief.
The goddess is afterwards brought out and placed on a Bamboo stage borne
on the shoulders of a set of coolies, all the flowers and _billáputtrá_
offered her during the past three days are also put in a basket and
taken to the riverside. The procession moves slowly forward, preceded by
bands of English and Native musicians, and the necessary retinue of
servants and guards, while from within the house, the women, not
satiated with the sight of the goddess for one long month, stretch their
eyes as far as their visual organs can extend to catch a last farewell
glimpse of her. The streets of Calcutta, the English part of the town
excepted, become literally crammed and almost impassable on such a day.
Groups of Police constables are posted here and there with a view to
maintain peace and order, the streets become a pavement of heads. At the
lowest calculation, there cannot be less than 100,000 sight-seers
abroad. Men, women and children of all classes and ranks come from a
great distance to have a sight of the image. The tops of houses, the
verandahs, the main roads, nay the unfrequented corners present a thick
mass of living creatures, all anxious to feast their eyes upon the
matchless grandeur of the scene. A foreigner, unaccustomed to such a
magnificent spectacle, is apt to overrate the wealth and prosperity of
the people on such a day. The number of images, the dazzling and costly
embellishments with which they are decorated, the rich livery of some of
the servants, the bands of musicians preceding the procession, the
letting off of red and blue lights at intervals, the gala dress of the
multitude, and last but not least, the elegant carriages of the big
"swells," and the still more elegant attire of their owners, who loll
back on the cushion of the carriages, diffusing fragrant odours as they
pass, cannot fail to produce an imposing effect. Here a gaily clad Baboo
with his patent Japan leather shoes; there a Hindoosthanee dandy with
his massive gold necklace and valuable pearls hanging down his ears;
here a proud Mogul in all the bravery of cloth of gold; there a frowning
Mussulman with his dazzling cap and gossamer _chápkán_ (tunic), and
ivory mounted stick, all combine to present a motley group of
characters, national in their costumes, and unique in appearance. The
poor country woman, her lord and children, though not favored by
fortune, still cut a figure far above their normal condition.
Those Hindoos, who adorn their images without stint of cost, parade them
through the most densely crowded streets till eight in the
evening--vanity being the chief motive of action--while those who move
in humbler spheres of life take them to boats on the river hired for the
purpose, and throw them into the water amidst shouts of exultation. The
mob of course sing obscene songs and dance indecently, all which is
tolerated for the occasion. The growing sense of the people--the result
of English education--has now-a-days greatly diminished the amount of
indecency which was one of the distinguishing characteristics of former
days on such an occasion.
Between seven and eight o'clock in the evening, the assembled crowd
begins to disperse in joyous mood, talking all the way as to the
respective superiority of such and such images. Amongst such a great
number and variety, there is sure to be difference of opinion, but it is
soon settled by the affirmation of a wise head that "the spirit of the
goddess is the same in all the images; _Ma Doorga_, does not mind show."
When the worshippers and others return home, they go at once to the
temple, where the officiating Brahmin waits for them to sprinkle on
their bodies the sacred water; all are made to sit down on the floor
with their feet covered with their clothes, lest a drop should fall upon
them. The Brahmin with a small twig of mangoe leaves sprinkles the
water, while repeating at the same time the usual incantation, the
meaning of which is that health, wealth and prosperity may attend the
votaries of _Doorga_, from year to year. After this they write on a
piece of green plantain leaf the name of the goddess several times, and
then clasp one another in their arms, and take the dust off the feet of
all the seniors, with the mutual expression of good wishes for their
worldly prosperity. An elderly man thus blesses a boy; "may you have
long life, gold inkstand and gold pen, acquire profound learning and
immense wealth, and support lakhs of men"; If a girl, he thus pronounces
his benediction (there being no clasping of arms between man and woman
nor between woman and woman), "may you enjoy all the blessings of a
married life (_i. e._, never become a widow) become the mother of a
_rajah_ (king), use vermillion on your grey head, continue to wear the
iron bangle, get seven male children, and never know want." It is well
known that no blessing is more acceptable to a Hindoo female than that
she may never become a widow, because the intolerable miseries of
widowhood are most piercing to her heart; nor can it be otherwise so
long as human nature remains unaltered. This social institution of the
Hindoos of cordially embracing each other and expressing all manner of
good wishes on a particular day of the year, when all hearts are more or
less affected with grief at the departure of the goddess, is a very
commendable one. It has an excellent tendency to promote social reunion,
good fellowship and brotherhood. Not only all the absent friends,
relatives, acquaintances and neighbours, male and female, join in this
annual greeting, but even strangers and the most menial servants are not
forgotten on the occasion. Every heart rejoices, every tongue blesses,
every acrimonious feeling is consigned to oblivion. This is a "quiet
interval at least between storm and storm; _interspaces_ of sunlight
between the breadths of gloom, a glad voice on summer holidays, happy in
unselfish friendships, in generous impulses, in strong health, in the
freedom from all cares, in the confidence of all hopes." During such a
happy period "it is a luxury to breathe the breath of life."
To drown their sorrows in forgetfulness, the Hindoos use a slight
intoxicating beverage made of hemp leaves on this particular occasion.
Every one that comes to visit--and there must be a social gathering--or
is present, is treated with this diluted beverage and sweets. Even the
most innocent and simple females for once in a year are tacitly allowed
to use it, but very sparingly. One farthing's worth of hemp leaves, or
about one ounce, suffices for fifty persons or more, so that it becomes
almost harmless when so copiously diluted. But those who have imbibed a
taste for English wines and spirits always indulge freely on this
occasion, giving little heed to temperance rules and lectures. It is
"_Bijoya_" and drinking to excess is justifiable.
It would not be proper to close this subject without saying a few words
about the national excitement which the approach of this festival
produces, and the powerful impetus it gives to trade in general. It has
been roughly estimated that upwards of a crore of Rupees (£10,000,000)
is spent every year in Bengal on account of this festival. Every family,
from the aristocracy to the peasant, must have new clothes, new shoes,
new every thing. Men, women, children, relatives, poor acquaintances and
neighbours, nay beggars must have their holiday dress. Persons in
straitened circumstances, who actually live from hand to mouth, deposit
their hard-earned savings for a twelvemonth to be spent on this grand
festival. Famished beggars who drag a miserable existence all their
lives, and depend on precarious alms to keep their body and soul
together all the year round, hopefully look forward to the return of
this anniversary for at least a temporary change in their rags and
tatters. Hungry Brahmins, whose daily avocation brings them only a
scanty allowance of rice and plantain, cheerfully welcome the advent of
"_Ma Doorga_" and gratefully watch the day when their empty coffer shall
be replenished. Cloth merchants, weavers, braziers, goldsmiths,
embroiderers, lace-makers, mercers, haberdashers, carpenters, potters,
basket-makers, painters, house-builders, English, Chinese and Native
shoemakers, ghee, sugar and corn merchants, grocers, confectioners,
dealers in silver and tinsel ware, songsters, songstresses, musicians,
hackney carriage keepers, Oorya bearers, hawkers, pedlars and such
dealers in miscellaneous wares, all look forward to the busy season when
their whole year's hopes shall be realised by bringing lots of Rupees
into the till. To a man of practical experience in business matters, as
far as the metropolis of British India is concerned, it is perhaps well
known that the "Trades" because of the Doorga Poojah make _more_ in one
month than they can possibly make in the remaining eleven months. From
the first week in September to the middle of October, when the Poojah
preparations are being actually made by the Hindoos, when they, frugal
as they assuredly are, once in a twelvemonth, loosen their purse
strings, when the accumulated interest on Government securities is
drawn, when all the arrears of house rent are peremptorily demanded,
when remittance from the distant parts of the country arrives, when in
short, rupees, annas and pice, are the "Go" of the inhabitants, the
shopkeepers make a display of their goods as best they can. From sunrise
to ten o'clock at night the influx of customers continues unabated,
extra shops are opened and extra assistants employed, the shopkeepers
themselves have scarcely leisure enough to take a hasty meal a day, and
each day's sales swell the heart of the owner. The thrifty and
economical Provincial, who loves money as dearly as the blood that runs
through his veins, leisurely makes his sundry purchases before the
regular rush of customers begins to pour in. He has not only the choice
of a large assortment, and the "pick," of a new investment, but gets
the benefit of a reasonable price, because the shopkeeper is not hard
and tenacious in the early stage of the Poojah sale. As each day passes,
and novelties are exposed for public inspection, the shopkeeper raises
his prices according to increasing demand. The effeminate and
extravagant Baboo of the City, who does not worship Mammon half so
devoutly as his country brother, does not mind paying a little too much
for his "whistle," because he is large hearted and liberal minded. His
more frequent intercourse with Englishmen has taught him to look upon
money as "filthy lucre." He is not calculating, and hence he defers
making his purchases till the eleventh hour, when, to use a native
expression, "the shopkeeper cuts the neck with one stroke."
About one-fifth of the Hindoo population of Calcutta consists of people
that are come from the contiguous villages and pergunnas of the
Presidency Division; these men live in Calcutta solely for employment,
keeping their families in the country where they have generally small
farms of their own which yield them enough produce in the shape of rice,
pulses, cereals, vegetables, &c., to last them throughout the year,
leaving, in some instances, ample surplus stock, with which and a few
milch cows as well as tanks, they husband their resources with the
greatest frugality, and enjoy every domestic comfort and convenience.
They do not care for Davie Wilson's biscuits and sponge-cakes, or a
glass of raspberry ice-cream or Roman Punch on a summer day; their bill
of fare is as short and simple as their taste is primitive. These men
make their Poojah purchases much earlier than their brethren in the
city, simply because they have to start for home as soon as the public
holidays commence on the eve of the fourth day of the increase of the
moon. If the Indian Railways have benefited one class of the people more
than another, it is these men who should be thankful for the boon. If
the East Indian and Eastern Bengal Railway Companies' coaching receipts
are properly examined for two days, _viz._, the fourth and fifth days of
the new moon or the beginning of the Doorga Poojah holidays, they will
certainly exhibit an incredibly large amount of receipts from third
class carriages. Indeed it has been rather facetiously remarked by
town's people that Calcutta becomes much lighter by reason of the exit
of country people during the Doorga Poojah holidays, but then the return
of the former to their home from the Moffussil should be also taken into
the account. On a fair calculation, the outgoing number far exceeds the
incoming proportion. It should also be observed that the list of
purchases of the former embraces a greater variety of items than that of
the latter. Their mothers, wives, daughters and sisters, not to speak of
the male members of the family, being absent in the country-house, the
want of each and every one must be supplied. Articles for domestic
consumption in a Hindoo family are in the greatest requisition.
Looking-glasses, combs, _áltá_, _sidoor_ or China vermillion, _ghoomsi_
(string round the loins), scented drugs for ladies' hair, black powder
for the teeth, soap, pomatum, otto of rose, rose water, wax candles,
_sidoorchoobry_ (toilet box made of small shells), silk, thread, wool,
carpets, spices of all sorts both for the betel and the kitchen,
betel-nuts, cocoanut oil for ladies' hair, sugar-candy, almonds,
raisins, Cabul pomegranates, Dacca, Santipore and English made
_dhooties_, _oorunees_ (sheets), _sarees_ (lady's apparel), silk
handkerchiefs, silk cloth, Benares embroidered cloth, satin and velvet
caps, lace, hose, tinsel ornaments for the images, English shoes and
sundries, constitute the catalogue of their purchases. This explains
their going into the Bazar early and accounts for their extra
expenditure on the score of luxuries and superfluities of life, but the
reader should bear in mind that such extravagance is indulged in only
once a year. Generally esteemed as these people are for their saving
qualities, frugal, simple and abstemious habits, an annual departure
from the established rule is not unjustifiable. The rich classes, as
will be evident from what has been said, spend enormous sums in making
their fashionable purchases on this occasion.
From the foregoing details it is easy to infer that the Doorga Poojah
anniversary presses heavily on the limited resources of a Hindoo family.
A rich man experiences little difficulty in meeting his expenses, but
the middling and the humbler classes, who comprise nine-tenths of the
population, are put to their wits' end to make both ends meet. They are
sometimes obliged to solicit the pecuniary aid of their rich friends to
enable them to get over the _Doorga_ difficulty. It is, perhaps, not
generally known that during this popular festival, or rather before it,
when all Bengal is in a state of social and religious ferment, when
money must be had by fair means or foul, not a few unfortunate men,
chiefly libertines and rakes, deliberately commit frauds by forging
cheques, drafts, and notes, which eventually lead them into the greatest
distress and disgrace. Besides the high price of clothes and of all
descriptions of eatables, every family must have a month's provision to
carry them through the period during which no money is forthcoming.
I had almost forgotten to say anything about the annual gratuity which
the Brahmins of Bengal obtain on the occasion of this festival. From
time immemorial, when orthodox Hindooism was in the ascendant, the
Brahmins not only advanced their claims, as now, to all the offerings
made to gods or goddesses, small or great, but established a rule that
every Hindoo, whose circumstances would permit it, should give them
individually, one, two, four, or five Rupees at the return of this
festival. Every respectable Hindoo family, even now-a-days when
heterodoxy is rampant in all the great centres of education, has to give
ten, fifteen, twenty-five, or fifty Rupees to Brahmins. Rich families
give much more. So very tenacious are the Brahmins of this privilege
that even if they earn one hundred Rupees a month by employment they
will not forego a single Rupee once a year on this occasion, seeing they
claim it as a birthright.
These men have studied human nature, but they have built their hopes of
permanent gain on the baseless fabric of a hollow superstition, which is
destined, through the progress of improvement, inevitably to fall into
decay. It is too late to retrieve the huge blunder of laying a false
foundation for their gains.
FOOTNOTES:
[51] Doorga is also worshipped in the month of April, in the time of the
vernal equinox, but very few then offer her their devotion, though this
celebration claims priority of origin.
[52] For some general remarks on the religion of the Hindoos, see Note
c.
[53] "In this ancient story" says Tod, "we are made acquainted with the
distant maritime wars which the princes of India carried on. Even
supposing Ravana's abode to be the insular Ceylon, he must have been a
very powerful prince to equip an armament sufficiently numerous to carry
off from the remote kingdom of _Kousula_ the wife of the great king of
the Suryas. It is most improbable that a petty king of Ceylon could wage
equal war with a potentate who held the chief dominion of India; whose
father, _Dosaratha_ drove his victorious car (_ratha_) over every region
(_desa_) and whose intercourse with the countries beyond the Bramaputra
is distinctly to be traced in the _Ramayana_."
[54] This is also the day which is vulgarly called the _Kalá kátá
amabáshay_ when unripe plantain fruits are cut in immense quantities for
offerings to Doorga.
[55] This sacred jar is marked with two combined triangles, denoting the
union of the two deities, Siva and Doorga,--the worshippers of the
_Sakti_, female energy, mark the jar with another triangle.
[56] The day before the _Kalpa_ begins, these priests receive new
clothes, comprising a _dhootie_ and _dubja_, and some money for
_habishay_, or food destitute of fish. Very few, however, abide by the
rules enjoined in the holy writings.
[57] Even in the observance of this religious preliminary, the Brahmins
take advantage of their superior caste, and curtail five days out of six
in order to save expense. Every thing is allowable in their case,
because they assume to be the oracles between the god and man.
[58] The vermilion is used by a Hindoo female whose husband is _alive_,
the privilege of putting it on the forehead is considered a sign of
great merit and virtue.
[59] There is a singular coincidence between the Hindoos and the ancient
heathen nations in regard to music. In both it is used as an
indispensable accompaniment to religious worship.
[60] It is no less strange than surprising that ornamental articles
prepared by the hands of European artisans who are accustomed to eat
beef and pork, the very mention, and much more, the touch of which
contaminates the purity of religion, are put on the bodies and heads of
Hindoo gods without the least religious scruple, simply for the
gratification of vanity. So much for the consistent and immaculate
character of the Hindoo creed!
[61] These scented oils are mostly prepared by Mussulmans, whose very
touch is enough to desecrate a thing; the Brahmins knowing this fact
unhesitatingly use them for religious purposes. Thus we see in almost
every sphere of social and domestic life the fundamental rules of
religious purity are shamefully violated.
[62] It is deserving of notice that the slaughter of oxen, cows or
calves is most religiously forbidden in the Hindoo Shaster. Divine
honors are paid to the species. The cow is regarded as a form of Doorga
and called Bhuggobutty. The husband of Doorga, Shiva, rides naked on an
ox. The very _dung_ of a cow purifies all unclean things in a Hindoo
household, and possesses the property of a disinfectant. The milk of a
cow assuredly affords the best nourishment to the young and the old,
hence the species was deified by the Hindoo sages. Even after the advent
of the English into this country for above two centuries, an orthodox
Hindoo is apt to exclaim "what impious times!" whenever he happens to
see a Mussulman butcher carry a cow or calf in the street for
slaughtering purposes. Not a few wonder how the English power continues
to prosper amidst the daily perpetration of such irreligious acts. By
way of derision, the English are called _gokháduk_ or beef-eaters and
the _goylás_ (milkmen) _Kásays_ or butchers. If such Hindoos had power
enough they would certainly have delivered their country from the grasp
of these beef-eaters and placed it above the reach of sacrilligious
hands. But alas! in the present _Kaliyaga_ or iron age, both they and
their gods are alike impotent.
[63] It is generally known that except the Brahmins, who are
proverbially noted for their eating propensities, scarcely any
respectable Hindoo condescends to sit down to a regular _jalpan_ dinner
at this popular festival. He comes, gives his usual _pranámy_ of one
Rupee to the goddess in the _thácoordállán_, talks with the owner of the
house for a few minutes, is presented by way of compliment with otto of
roses and pan, and then goes away, making the stereotyped plea that he
has many other places to go to. Besides this, every man is expected to
provide himself at home with a good stock of choice eatables on this
festive occasion. The prices of sweetmeats, already too high, are nearly
doubled at this time, because of the large demand and small supply. From
32 Rupees a maund (82 lbs) the normal price of _sundesh_ in ordinary
times, it rises to 60 or 70 Rupees in the Poojah time. Milk sells at
four annas a pound, and without milk no _sundesh_ could be made. It is
the most expensive article of food among the Hindoos of Bengal, when
well made with fresh _channa_ (curded milk) it has a fine taste, but is
entirely destitute of nutritive property. The Hindoos of the Upper
Provinces, however, do not regard the preparation as _pure_, and
consequently do not use it, because of its admixture with curded milk.
[64] Rich men are in the habit of firing guns for the guidance of the
people.
[65] The flesh of buffaloes is used only by sweepers, shoemakers, &c.,
who sometimes quarrel for the possession of the slaughtered animals. The
meat with country liquor ends in drunken feasts.
[66] The late Rajah Rajkissen Bahadoor, Baboos Santiram Sing, Ramdoolal
Dey, Shibnarain Ghose, Prankissen Holdar, the Mullick family, the Ghosal
family of Bhookoylash and others, spent large sums of money from year to
year in giving clothes, food and money to a very large number of poor
men, and liberating prisoners from jail on payment of their debts. Any
relief to suffering humanity is certainly an act of great merit for
which the donors deserve well of the community. In our days there are
several Baboos who do the same on a limited scale, but the name of Baboo
Tarucknauth Puramanick of Kassiriparrah deserves a special notice.
Naturally unassuming and unambitious, his character is as irreproachable
as his large-heartedness is conspicuous. On every anniversary of the
Doorga Poojah, and on almost every religious celebration, he gives alms
to hundreds and thousands of poor people without distinction of caste or
creed. On the occasion of the Doorga Poojah festival he would not break
his fast until midnight, when he is assured that all the poor people who
came to his door have been duly provided with food and coppers. For
three nights this distribution of alms continues. The public road before
his house is closed by order of the police for the accommodation of
beggars. Five or six times in a month he feeds all the poor people that
come to his house, hence the fame of his generosity is spread far and
wide, and he is surnamed Taruck Baboo, "the _datta_" or charitable--a
distinction which the more opulent of his countrymen (and there are not
a few) should seek to covet.
[67] An _Urghy_ is a bunch of doorva grass tied up at the last, either
with red cotton or a slip of plantain leaf. Two or three of such bundles
are made, one is placed on the crown of the goddess and two on her two
feet. It is usually stuffed with paddy and besmeared with sandal wood
water and vermillion. It is a sacred offering and consequently preserved
for solemn occassions.
[68] Home made things are, in the long run, cheaper and more preferable
to the questionable products of the market, which are not only inferior
in quality but are more or less subject to defilement, being exposed for
sale to people of all castes. This detracts from the absolute purity of
the preparation.
[69] It would not be out of place to observe here that liberal Hindoos
as a body are not beef-eaters as is vulgarly supposed. They are content
with fowls, goat, sheep and fish. About forty years ago before the
Calcutta University was founded, the late Baboo Isser Chunder Goopto,
the editor of _Pravakur_, a vernacular news paper, very cleverly hit off
and satirised in popular ballads the then growing desire of the young
Hindoo reformers to adopt a European style of eating. He commenced with
Rammohun Roy--the pioneer of Hindoo reformation--and thus sarcastically
described his public career. Addressing _Saraswattee_ the Hindoo goddess
of learning, he thus laments: "Oh goddess! in vain have you established
schools in Calcutta, look at the end of that Roy (Rammohun Roy);
profound learning had wafted him over the waters to a distant region
(England), and never brought him back again." As regards the young
alumni, he makes a wife thus accost her husband: "_Pran, Pran_, my
heart, my heart, you go to society and lectures every day, and when the
Examination is held at the Town Hall you get prizes, heaps and heaps of
books you read and always remain outside. Is it written in the books
that you should never touch the body of a female? What sort of a
_gooroo_ (master) is your Sahib? he is a regular _garu_ (bull) if he
give you such lessons. You dislike _loochee_ and _mundá_ (Hindoo
sweetmeats) but you get _gunda_ and _gunda_ of fowl eggs and satisfy
your hunger, and for you all there is an end of cows and calves." But
this is an exaggeration about the eating of beef by the educated
Hindoos. Except a few medical students, who have, in a great measure,
overcome their prejudices by the constant handling of dead bodies, the
rest still feel a sort of natural repugnance to eating beef. This is,
perhaps, the effect of early impressions produced by the religious
veneration in which a cow is held among the Hindoos. "The superstitious
reverence," says an eminent writer, "for the ox, points doubtless to a
period when that useful animal was first naturalized in India and
protected by a law for its preservation and encouragement, which, now
that the original intention is lost sight of in the lapse of ages, has
invested the cattle with a religious character, and, indeed, it is not
200 years since the Emperor Jehangir was obliged once to prohibit the
slaughter of kine for a term of years, as a measure absolutely required
to prevent the ruin of agriculture." It is a striking fact that that
loathsome disease, leprosy, is very common among the lower orders of
Mussulmans who use this meat freely. Perhaps it is more suited to the
inhabitants of milder regions than those of a tropical climate.
[70] So great was the mania for extravagant, ostentations show, that
instances were not wanting in which a lakh of Rupees was freely spent on
this grand occasion. The late Prankissen Holdar, of Chinsurah, in the
neighbourhood of Calcutta, expended annually for three or four years the
above sum in furnishing his house without stint of cost in truly
oriental style, giving rich entertainments to Europeans and Natives, and
distributing alms among the poor. There was no Railway then, and
consequently the boat hire alone from Calcutta to Chinsurah for English
and Native grandees might have cost four to five thousand Rupees. The
very invitation cards written in golden letters with gold fringes cost
eight to ten Rupees each. For the entertainment of his English friends
he used to give ten thousand Rupees to Messrs. Gunter and Hooper, the
then public Purveyors of Calcutta. First class wines and provisions were
procured in abundance, and arranged in the corridor under European and
Mahomedan stewards, while one hundred Brahmins were engaged in prayers,
reciting _Chundee_ and repeating the name of the god, Modosoodun, for
the propitiation of the goddess and the interests of the family. It
sometimes so happened that the clang of knives, forks and spoons was
simultaneous with the sound of the holy bell and conch, the one
neutralising what the other was supposed to produce in a religious point
of view.
[71] "The reader will recollect that the festivals of Bacchus and Cybele
were equally noted for the indecencies practised by the worshippers both
in their words and actions."
[72] The Reverend Mr. Maurice, a pious clergyman, who had never seen
these ceremonies, attempted to paint them in the most captivating terms.
Should he think that Hindoo idolatry is capable of exciting the most
elevated conceptions about the godhead and leading the mind to the true
path of righteousness, let him come and join the Brahmins and their
numerous devotees in crying "Hurree Bole! Hurree Bole! Joy Doorga! Joy
Kally!" "Mr. Forbes, of Stanmore Hill, in his elegant museum of Indian
rarities, numbers two of the bells that have been used in devotion by
the Brahmins. They are great curiosities, and one of them in particular
appears to be of very high antiquity, in form very much resembling the
cup of the lotus, and the tune of it is uncommonly soft and melodious. I
could not avoid being deeply affected with the sound of an instrument
which had been actually employed to kindle the flame of that
superstition which I have attempted so extensively to unfold. My
transported thoughts travelled back to the remote period when Brahmin
religion blazed forth in all its splendour in the caverns of Elephanta:
I was, for a moment, entranced, and caught the odour of enthusiasm. A
tribe of venerable priests, arrayed in flowing stoles, and decorated
with high tiaras, seemed assembled around me, the mystic song of
initiation vibrated in my ear; I breathed an air fragrant with the
richest perfumes, and contemplated the deity in the fire that symbolized
him." And again, in another place, "She, (the Hindoo religion) wears the
similitude of a beautiful and radiant cherub from Heaven, bearing on his
persuasive lips the accents of pardon and peace, and on his silken wings
benefaction and blessing." What strange hallucinations some of these
Christian ministers labour under in attempting to reconcile the ideas of
idolatry with those of the True and Living God!
IX.
THE KALI POOJAH FESTIVAL.
In Bengal, next to the Doorga Poojah in point of importance stands the
Kali Poojah, which invariably takes place on the last night of the
decrease of the moon, in the month of Kartik (between October and
November). She is represented as standing on the breast of her husband,
Shiva, with a tongue projecting to a great length. She has four arms, in
one of which she holds a scimitar; in another, the head of a giant whom
she has killed in a fight, the third hand is spread out for the purpose
of bestowing blessing, while by the fourth, she welcomes the blessed.
She also wears a necklace of skulls and has a girdle of hands of giants
round her loins. To add to the terrific character of the goddess, she is
represented as a very black female with her locks hanging down to her
heels. The reason ascribed for her standing on the breast of her
husband, is the following: In a combat with a formidable giant called
Ruckta Beeja, she became so elated with joy at her victory that she
began to dance in the battle-field so frantically that all the gods
trembled and deliberated what to do in order to restore peace to the
earth, which, through her dancing was shaken to its foundation. After
much consultation, it was decided that her husband should be asked to
repair to the scene of action and persuade her to desist. Shiva, the
husband, accordingly came down, but seeing the dreadful carnage and the
infuriated countenance as well as the continued dancing of his wife, who
could not in her frenzy recognise him, he threw himself among the dead
bodies of the slain. The goddess was so transported with joy that in one
of her dancing feats she chanced to step upon the breast of her husband,
whereupon the body moved. Struck with amazement she stood motionless
for a while, and fixing her gaze at length discovered that she had
trampled on her husband. The sight at once restored her feminine
modesty, and she stood aghast feeling shocked at the unhappy accident.
To express her shame, she put out her tongue and in that posture she is
worshipped by her followers.[73]
Her black features, the dark night in which she is worshipped, the
bloody deeds with which her name is associated, the countless sacrifices
relentlessly offered at her altar, the terrific form in which she is
represented, the unfeminine and warlike posture in which she stands, and
last but not least, the desperate character of some of her votaries,
invest her name with a terror which is without a parallel in the
mythological legends of the Hindoos. The authors of the Hindoo mythology
could not have invented in their fertile imagination a sanguinary
character more singularly calculated to inspire terror[74] and thereby
extort the blind adoration of an ignorant populace. About seven hundred
years ago, a devoted follower of this goddess, named Agum Bagish,
proclaimed that her worship should be performed in the following manner:
The image is to be made, set up, worshipped and destroyed on the same
night. It is a _nishi_ or midnight Poojah on the darkest night of the
month, so that not a single soul from outside could know it. He strictly
observed this rule while he was alive, and it was said that Rajah
Krishnu Chunder Roy of Kishnaghur followed his example for some time.
Baboo Obhoy Churn Mitter of Calcutta and Bhobaney Churn Mookerjee of
Jessore also tried to observe the rule prescribed above, but as it has
been alleged the spirit of secret devotion forsook them after a little
while. They reverted to the general custom of worshipping the goddess
on the darkest night in Kartik, inviting friends and making pantomimic
exhibitions.
Though her Poojah lasts but one night, the sacrifices of goats, sheep
and buffaloes are as numerous as those offered before the altar of
Doorga. In former times, when idolatry prevailed universally throughout
Bengal and religious belief of the people therein was firm and unshaken,
the splendour with which the worship of this goddess was performed was
second only, as I have remarked, to that of the Doorga. Both goddesses,
however, still continue to count their votaries by millions. "The reader
may form some idea," says Mr. Ward, "how much idolatry prevailed at the
time when the Hindoo monarchy flourished from the following
circumstance, which belongs to a modern period, when the Hindoo
authority in Hindoosthan was almost extinct. Rajah Krishnu Chunder Roy,
and his two immediate successors, in the month of Kartick, annually gave
orders to all the people over whom they had a nominal authority to keep
the _shyma_ festival, and threatened every offender with the severest
penalties on non-compliance. In consequence of these orders, in more
than ten thousand houses in one night, in the Zillah of Kishnaghur, the
worship of this goddess was celebrated. The number of animals destroyed
could not have been less than ten thousand."
Kali, like Doorga, Siva, Vishnu and Krishna, is the guardian deity of
many Hindoos, who daily offer their prayers to her both in the morning
and evening. Several, who possess great wealth and know not how to
employ it better, dedicate temples to her service and consecrate them
with ample endowments. In the holy City of Benares, there still exists a
Kali shrine where hundreds of beggars are daily fed at the expense of
the founder, the late Rani Bhobaney of Nattore. Nearly a hundred and
fifty years ago, Raja Ramkrishna erected a temple at Burranagore, about
six miles north of Calcutta, in honor of this goddess, and spent upwards
of a lakh of Rupees when it was first consecrated. He endowed it with a
large revenue for its permanent support, so that any number of religious
mendicants who might come there daily could be easily fed. In his
prosperous days, this rich zemindar paid an annual revenue of fifty-two
lakhs of Rupees to the East India Company. Unfortunately the family has
since been reduced to a state of poverty, and the temple is a heap of
ruins. The endowment, like most other endowments of this nature,
disappeared soon after the death of the founder. The Rajah of Burdwan's
endowment of this kind still endures, and promises to enjoy a longer
lease of life.
The name of Kali, be it observed, is more extensively used than either
that of Doorga or Shiva. Whenever a Native Regiment is to march or set
out on an expedition the stereotyped acclaim is,--"_Kali Maikey Jay_,"
"victory to mother Kali." When the evening gun is fired in any of the
military stations, the almost involuntary exclamation is, "_Jay Kali
Calcutta Wallee_." Nor is her worship less universal than her fame. On
the last night of the decrease of the moon in Kartik, every family in
Bengal must worship her though in a somewhat different shape. Every
family, rich or poor, Brahmin or Soodar, must celebrate the Lucki or
Kali Poojah before the sacred _Reck_ of _dhán_ or paddy, which in the
estimation of a Hindoo is a valuable heritage.[75] Several incidents
connected with this religious festival are worth recording. In the Upper
and Central Provinces, as in the South of Hindoostan, it is called the
_Dewallee_ Festival. Though the image is not set up, yet the Hindoo and
Parsi inhabitants observe the holiday by opening their new year's
account on that day. Illuminations, fireworks and all sorts of
festivities mark the day. To try their luck for the next year, almost
all Hindoo merchants and bankers indulge in gambling that night, and
large sums are sometimes at stake on the occasion. In Calcutta, where
gambling is strictly prohibited, the law is shamefully violated on that
dark night. This does not imply any reflection on the vigilance of the
Police, because the game is carried on surreptitiously. The Parsi
merchants who deal in wines and stores throw open their shops and treat
their European customers free of cost on that particular day. Their
brethren in Bengal are, however, not so liberal to their customers,
simply because it is not their new year's day. In Calcutta and all over
Bengal the night is remarkable for illumination,[76] fireworks,
feasting, carousing and gambling. There is a time-honored custom among
the people to light bundles of _paycáttee_ or faggots that night. As is
naturally to be expected the children take a great delight in such
pastimes. At the close of the Poojah a servant of the house takes a
_Koolow_ or winnowing fan and a stick with which he beats and sings "Bad
luck out" and "Good luck in."[77]
Kali is also the guardian deity of thieves, robbers, _thugs_ and such
like desperate characters. Before starting on their diabolical work,
they invoke her aid to protect them from detection and punishment. The
supposed aid of the goddess arms them with courage and leads them to
commit the most atrocious crimes. When successful they come and offer
sacrifices of goats, spirituous liquors and other things, under an
impression that the superintending power of the goddess has shielded
them from all harm. But the unbending rigor of the British law has
almost entirely dissipated the delusion. Many an infamous dacoit in
Bengal has confessed his guilt on the scaffold, lamenting that "_Ma
Kali_" had not protected him in the hour of need. The notorious "Rugho
Dacoit" of Hooghly, whose very name terrified a wayward child into
sleep, made fearful disclosures as to the originating cause of his
numerous crimes. Some forty years ago there lived in Calcutta a very
respectable Hindoo gentleman, by name Rajkissore Dutt, who was a very
great devotee of this goddess. Every month, on the last night of the
decrease of the moon, he, it was said, used to set up an image of this
goddess, and adorned her person with gold and silver ornaments to the
value of about one thousand Rupees which were afterwards given to the
officiating priest. On the annual return of this grand Poojah in the
month of Kartik, he used to give the goddess a gold tongue, and decorate
her four arms with divers gold ornaments to the cost of about three
thousand Rupees, and his other expenses amounted to another six or seven
thousand. For a number of years he continued to celebrate the Poojah in
the above magnificent style, his veneration becoming more intensified as
his wealth increased. He established a Bank in Calcutta called the
"India Bank," which circulated notes of its own to a considerable
amount. A combination was formed among a few influential Natives, whose
names I am ashamed to mention, and a well concocted system of fraud was
organised. Through one, Dwarkey Nath Mitter, a son-in-law of Rajkissore,
Company's Paper or Government Securities to the amount of about twenty
Lakhs of Rupees were forged and passed off as genuine on the public. But
as fraud succeeds for a short while only, the gigantic scheme was soon
discovered, and the delinquent was tried, convicted and sentenced to
transportation for life to one of the Penal Settlements of the East
India Company, where he lived for several years to rue the consequences
of his iniquitous conduct. His eldest son told the writer that his
father concealed in a wall of one of the rooms of his house Bank notes
for upwards of a Lakh of Rupees. When the search of the Police was over
he opened the part of the wall and to his utter disappointment found all
the notes crumbled to pieces, and become a small bundle of rotten paper
of no earthly use to any one. Thus was iniquity rightly punished. No
wonder that the deep faith of Rajkissore in the goddess Kali did not
avail him in the hour of danger. His flagitious career commenced by a
blind devotion to his guardian deity, culminated in a gigantic forgery,
and closed with transportation and infamy.
It is generally known that there exists a temple of this goddess in the
suburbs of Calcutta, which has long been celebrated for its sanctity.
The place is called Kali Ghat, about four miles south of Government
House. It is not exactly known when this temple was first built. The
probable conjecture is that some three hundred years ago a shrewd and
far-seeing member of the sacerdotal class, observing the great
veneration in which the goddess was held among the Hindoos of those
days, erected a temple to the image and gave the place a name after her,
the renown of which, as Calcutta grew in importance, gradually spread
far and wide. To perpetuate the holy character of the shrine, and to
consecrate it by traditional sanctity, the following story was given
out, in the truth of which the generality of the orthodox Hindoos have a
firm belief. In time out of mind, when the Suttee (Doorga) destroyed
herself on the _Trisool_ (three edged weapon), one of her fingers was
said to have fallen on the spot on which the temple now stands and in
whose recess the priests pretend it is still preserved. Hence the sacred
character of the shrine, which still attracts thousands of devotees
every year from all parts. In popular estimation from a religious point
of view she does not yield much to the Juggernauth of Orissa, the
Bisseshur of Benares, the Krishna of Brindabun, the Gyasoor of Gya, and
the Mahadeb of Buddinauth. Fortunately for the site of the temple, which
is in close proximity to the metropolis of British India, and until
recently was in the immediate neighbourhood of the highest Appellate
Court (Suddur Dewanny Adawlut) independently of its bordering on the
_Addigunga_ (the original sacred stream of Ganges), it has always drawn
the wealthiest and poorest portions of the Hindoo community. Had the
offerings in gold, silver and in kind fallen to the share of one priest,
it is not too much to say that he would long before this have been as
rich as the Juggut Sett (Banker of the world) of Moorshedabad, who was
reputed to have been worth upwards of fifteen _crores_ of Rupees.
Wealthy Hindoos, when on a visit to Kali Ghat, expend from one to fifty
thousand Rupees on the worship of this goddess, in the shape of valuable
ornaments, silver plate, dishes &c., sweetmeats and food for a large
number of Brahmins, and small presents to thousands of beggars, besides
numerous sacrifices of goats, sheep and buffaloes, which make the space
before the temple swim with blood. The flesh of goat, and sheep is
freely used by the _saktá_ class of Hindoos when offered to Kali and
Doorga, but they would never use it without such an oblation. It is
otherwise called _brithá_ or unsanctified flesh, which is altogether
quite unfit for the use of a religious Hindoo. But the progress of
English education has made terrible inroads on the religious practices
of the people, at least of the rising generation.[78] The following
description of the Kali or _Shyma_ Poojah given by Mr. Ward will serve
to convey to the reader some idea of the nature of the festival.
"A few years ago," says he, "I went to the house of Kali Sunkur Ghose at
Calcutta, at the time of the Shyma festival, to see the animals
sacrificed to Kali. The buildings where the worship was performed were
raised on four sides, with an area in the middle. The image was placed
at the north end with the face to the south; and the two side rooms, and
one of the end rooms opposite the image, were filled with spectators: in
the area were the animals devoted to sacrifice, and also the
executioner, with Kali Sunkur, a few attendants, and about twenty
persons to throw the animal down and hold it in the post, while the head
was cut off. The goats were sacrificed first, then the buffaloes, and
last of all, two or three rams. In order to secure the animals, ropes
were fastened round their legs; they were then thrown down, and the neck
placed in a piece of wood fastened into the ground and open at the top
like the space betwixt the prongs of a fork. After the animal's neck was
fastened in the wood by a peg which passed over it, the men who held it
pulled forcibly at the heels, while the executioner, with a broad heavy
axe cut off the head at one blow; the heads were carried in an elevated
posture by an attendant, (dancing as he went) the blood running down him
on all sides, into the presence of the goddess. Kali Sunkur, at the
close, went up to the executioner, took him in his arms, and gave him
several presents of cloth, &c. The heads and blood of the animals, as
well as different meat offerings, are presented, with incantations, as a
feast to the goddess, after which clarified butter is burnt on a
prepared altar of sand. Never did I see men so eagerly enter into the
shedding of blood, nor do I think any butchers could slaughter animals
more expertly. The place literally swam with blood. The bleating of the
animals, the numbers slain, and the ferocity of the people employed,
actually made me unwell, and I returned about midnight, filled with
horror and indignation." In the foregoing account, Mr. Ward has omitted
to say anything about the nocturnal revelry with which the festival is
in most instances accompanied. I have witnessed scenes on such
occasions, which are too disgusting to be described. Not only the
officiating priest and the spiritual guide, but all the members of the
family and not a few of the guests partake of the spirituous liquors
offered to the goddess, and in a state of intoxication sing _Ramprasadi_
songs befitting the occasion. The festival closes with orgies such as
are observed in the worship of Bacchus. There are, however, a few
honorable exceptions to the rule, who, though they perform the worship
of this goddess, yet altogether abstain from drinking. The goddess,
Kali, is their guardian deity, they worship her daily, but are known
never to touch a drop of wine. They attribute to her all the worldly
prosperity they enjoy and look to her for everlasting blessedness. Such
men have no faith in the common drunken motto, "_Bharey ma Bhobaney_,"
mother _Bhobaney_ (another name of Kali) is in the cup. But the grand
characteristic of this and similar festivals which are annually
recurring is, as I have already mentioned, "the wine, the fruit and the
lady fair."
"Even _bacchanalian_ madness has its charms."
But to return to the priests of Kali Ghat.--As time rolled on, their
descendants multiplied so rapidly that it soon became necessary to allot
a few days only in the year to each of the families, and on grand
occasions, which are not a few, the offertories are proportionately
divided among the whole set of the sacerdotal class. Thus it has now
become a case of what a Hindoo proverb so aptly expresses: "The flesh of
a sparrow divided into a hundred parts," or infinitesimal quantities.
God has so constituted man that he can find little or no enjoyment in a
state of inactivity. The proper employment of time, therefore, is
essentially necessary to the progressive development of our powers and
faculties, the non exercise of which must needs induce idle and vicious
habits. No bread is sweet unless it is earned by the sweat of our brow.
The Haldars (priests) of Kali Ghaut having no healthy occupation in
which to engage their minds, and depending for their sustenance on a
means which requires neither physical nor mental labor, have inevitably
been led to adopt the Epicurean mode of life, which says, "eat, drink
and be merry." This habit is further confirmed by the peculiar nature of
the religious principles which the worship of this goddess enjoins.
Certain texts of the Tantra Shaster expressly inculcate that without
drinking the mind is not properly prepared for religious exercise and
contemplation. The pernicious effects of such a monstrous doctrine are
sufficiently obvious. It has been said that not only the men but the
women also are in the habit of drinking. As a necessary consequence the
vicious practice has not only enervated their minds but made their
"wealth small and their want great." Disputes often arise between the
worshippers and the priests of the temple respecting the offerings and
the proper division of the same, the latter often claiming the lion's
share which the former are unwilling to submit to. Gross lies are
sometimes told in the presence of the goddess in order to secure to the
major portion of the offerings in the interests of the worshippers--an
expedient which the notorious rapacity of the officiating Brahmins
imperatively demands. Surrounded by an atmosphere densely impregnated
with the miasm of a false religion and a corrupt morality, the ennobling
thought of a true God and the moral accountability of man never enters
their minds. The chief end and aim of their life is to impose on the
credulity of their blind votaries, and thereby pander to their
unhallowed desires and selfish gratification. Nor can they rise to a
higher and purer sphere of life because from their childhood they are
nurtured in the cradle of error, ignorance, indolence and profligacy.
Who can contemplate the effects of their impure orgies on the eighth,
ninth, fourteenth and fifteen nights of the increase and decrease of the
moon without being reminded of the saturnalia of the Greeks?[79] If a
sober-minded man were to visit the holy shrine of Kali Ghat on one of
these nights, he would doubtless be shocked at the unrestrained
debauchery that runs riot in the name of religion. The temple, no less
than the private domicile of the priests, presents an uninterrupted
scene of bacchanalian revelry, which is unspeakably abominable. Men
deprived of a sense of shame, and women of decency and morality, mingle
in the revels, and the result is that all the cherished notions of the
better part of humanity are at once put to flight. It is painful to
reflect that notwithstanding the progress of enlightenment in the great
centre of Indian civilization, people still cling to the adoration of a
blood-thirsty goddess, and to the support of a depraved class of
priests. The sacrifices of goats that are daily offered before the altar
of Kali being too numerous for local consumption, are sold to outside
customers much in the same manner as fruits and vegetables are brought
from the neighbouring villages into the market. On Saturday the sale is
larger than on the other week days, because that night is specially
dedicated to the worship of Bacchus, Sunday affording a respite from
work. But the sale of Kali Ghat goat meat has of late been much
interfered with by the establishment of rival shrines in several parts
of Calcutta, where a pound is to be had for three annas. The owners
(mostly prostitutes and drunkards) of these pseudo-goddesses, vulgarly
called _Kasháye_ or butcher Kali, sacrifice one or two goats every
morning without any ceremony, except on Saturday when the number is
doubled to meet increased requirements. Thus a regular and profitable
butcher's trade is openly carried on in the name of the goddess, and the
generality of the _Sakta_ Hindoos feel no religious scruples in using
the meat which is thus sanctified. The comparative ease with which flesh
is now obtained in Calcutta has tended, in no small degree, to encourage
habits of drinking among a proverbially abstemious race of men; it being
the popular impression that meat neutralises the effects of spirituous
liquors.[80]
Many images of Kali which have from time to time been set up in and
about Calcutta, ostensibly for religious but practically for secular
purposes, in imitation of the unrivalled prototype at Kali Ghat, have
acquired unenviable celebrity, and been made subservient as a source of
income to the owner and the officiating priests, who fatten on the
offerings made to the goddess in the shape of money and provisions.
Thus, for instance, the _Sidhassurry_ or Kali of Nimtollah obtains a
few Rupees daily from such Hindoos as are carried to the riverside to
breathe their last, independently of the small presents made at all
hours of the day, especially in the mornings and evenings, when the
crowd assembles. It is amusing to observe the complaisance with which a
Brahmin gives a consecrated _Billaputtra_ or flower to a devotee in
return for a Rupee or so. A shrewd Brahmin, like the ancient Roman
soothsayer, laughs in his sleeves at such stupidity.
A Sanskrit proverb says that a meritorious work endures. It keeps alive
the name of the founder, and this vanity furnishes the strongest
stimulus to the endowment of works of a religious character, and of
public utility. It is, however, a painful fact that the nature and
character of such endowments is, in most cases, lamentably wanting in
the element of stability. Two or three generations after the death of
the founder, the substance of the estate being impaired, the family is
reduced to a state of poverty, the surviving members, often a set of
demoralised idlers, depend for their support on the usufruct of the
_Deybatra_, originally set apart for exclusively religious purposes, and
placed beyond the reach of law. In these days the offshoots of many
families are absolutely dependent on this sacred fund for their
subsistence, and the consequence naturally is that the endowment is
frittered away and the work itself inevitably falls into decay. Thus in
process of time both the fund and the founder's name pass into utter
oblivion.[81]
The following account given by Mr. Ward about the death of a devotee of
this goddess will not be uninteresting. "In the year 1809, Trigonu
Goswamee, a vyuktavudhootu, died at Kali Ghat in the following manner:
Three days before his death, he dug a grave near his hut, in a place
surrounded by three _vilwu_ trees which he himself had planted. In the
evening he placed a lamp in the grave, in which an offering of flesh,
greens, rice, &c., to the shakals was made, repeating it the next
evening. The following day he obtained from a rich native ten rupees
worth of spirituous liquors, and invited a number of mendicants, who sat
drinking with him till twelve at noon, when he asked among the
spectators at what hour it would be full moon; being informed, he went
and sat in his grave, and continued drinking liquors. Just before the
time for the full moon, he turned his head towards the temple of Kali,
and informed the spectators that he had come to Kali Ghat with the hope
of seeing the goddess, not the image in the temple. He had been
frequently urged by different persons to visit the temple, but though he
had not assigned a reason for his omission, he now asked what he was to
go and see there: a temple? He could see that from where he was. A piece
of stone made into a face, or the silver hands? He could see stones and
silver any where else. He wished to see the goddess herself, but he had
not, in this body, obtained the sight. However, he had still a mouth and
a tongue, and he would again call upon her; he then called out aloud
twice, "Kali? Kali?" and almost immediately died;--probably from
excessive intoxication. The spectators, though Hindoos (who in general
despise a drunkard), considered this man as a great saint, who had
foreseen his own death, when in health. He had not less than four
hundred disciples."
The various causes which have hitherto conspired to impart a sanctity to
this famous temple are gradually waning in their influence, but it will
be a very long time before the minds of the mass of the people are
completely purified in the crucible of true Religion, before which
superstition and priestcraft must vanish into air.
FOOTNOTES:
[73] The Hindoos put out their tongues when they are shocked at
anything.
[74] "The image of Minerva, it will be recollected, was that of a
threatening goddess, exciting terror. On her shields she bore the head
of a gorgon. Sir William Jones considers Kali as the Proserpine of the
Greeks."
[75] A _Reck_ is a small round basket, with which Natives measure rice,
the staff of life in Bengal. Every family has its sacred _Reck_ of paddy
which is preserved with religious care and brought out on such special
occasions.
[76] A superstitious idea prevails among the Hindoos that unless they
illuminate their houses on this particular night, devils would come and
take possession of them. In the Upper and Central Provinces it is
customary with the Hindoo inhabitants not only to illuminate but
whitewash their houses and decorate the doors and walls of shops with
colored China paper so that every thing may look "_smart_" according to
Native taste. In the Jubbulpore District I have seen the poorest laborer
whitewash the mud walls of his tiled-hut with one farthing's worth of
white earth called _Sewmattee_ which is found in great abundance in that
part of the country.
[77] One Joy Ghose, a notorious buffoon, was once asked by his old
mother to perform the above rite. Joy, instead of reciting the motto in
the right way, purposely inverted it just to irritate the old lady, and
repeated the first last and the last first. The joke was too much for
the sensitive mother; she wrung her breast, tore her hair, and refused
to be consoled until the son repeated the song in proper order, _i. e._,
"bad luck out, good luck in." Trifling with _Luckee_, the goddess of
prosperity, is the height of folly. It is punished with misery here and
perdition hereafter.
[78] Young Bengal is no longer satisfied with Kali Ghat meat; his taste
being improved and his mind disabused, he must needs have kid and mutton
from the new Municipal market, which is certainly superior in quality to
that of Kali Ghat.
[79] The writer in his younger days remembers to have been once taken up
on a Kali Poojah night by a gang of infamous drunkards in the very heart
of Calcutta. When he was returning home about midnight in company with
some of his friends after seeing the _támáshá_, he being the youngest of
the lot had necessarily lagged behind, when to his utter dismay he was
suddenly laid hold of by a man who smelt strongly of liquor and carried
him hurriedly into an empty house on the roadside. The first shout at
the very threshold was,--"here we have got a _moori_", _i. e._ a victim;
the ruffians, who had their faces covered with clothes, jumped up at the
announcement, and one of them accosted him in the following
manner--"what money and pice have you got?" The writer replied a few an
his pice only. No Rupees? asked another; whereupon they all fell to
searching his person and stripped him of all his clothes, which
consisted of a _dhooty_, a _chádur_ and a _jamá_, and finally bade him
go. As a matter of course he was obliged to return home almost in a
state of nudity, one of his friends lending him a _chádur_ on the
occasion. In these days the introduction of gas light and the posting of
constables on the highway have greatly checked such ruffianism.
[80] This idea is strengthened by the opinion of Native medical
students, many of whom, it is a matter of regret, are not great
advocates of temperance. Natives use liquor not for health but solely
for intoxicating purposes. A very successful Native Practitioner to whom
not only the writer but many of his respectable friends are under great
obligation, not long ago fell a victim to the besetting vice of
intemperance, and confessed his guilt like a penitent sinner in his
dying moments. His reputation was so great at one time that it was said
"patients felt half cured when he entered the room." In the beginning of
his brilliant career, he was one of the most staunch advocates of
temperance. How frail is human nature!
[81] For an account of the _Bamacharee_ Sect, see note D.
X.
THE SARASWATI POOJAH.
Saraswati is the Hindoo goddess of learning. She is represented as
seated in a water lily and playing on a lute. Throughout Bengal her
worship is celebrated with more or less pomp on the fifth day of the
increase of the moon, in the Bengali month of Magha or Falgoon
(February). As the popular Shastras reckon the commencement of spring
from this date, the people, especially the young and gay of both sexes,
put on _basantee_ or yellow garments, and indulge in all sorts of low
merriment, manifesting a depraved and vitiated taste.
Every Hindoo, young or old, who is able to read and write, observes this
ceremony with apparent solemnity, abstaining from the use of fish on
that day as a mark of reverence to the goddess. The worship is performed
either before an image of the goddess, or before a pen, ink-bottle and
_pooti_ (manuscript), which are symbolically regarded as an appropriate
substitute for the image. The officiating priest, after reading the
prescribed formula, and presenting rice, fruits, sweetmeats, flowers,
&c., directs the votaries of the goddess to stand up with flowers in
their hands and repeat the usual service, beseeching her to bestow on
them the blessings of learning, health, wealth, good luck, longevity,
fame, &c. Apart from its idolatrous feature, it is a rather strange
sight to see a number of youths, after going through the process of
ablution and changing their clothes, stand up before the goddess in a
body, and in a devotional spirit address her in prayer for the blessings
above enumerated. Even apart from its superstitious character, it is
decidedly objectionable on the score of its purely secular tendency, as
it makes no allusion whatever to the primary object of all prayer,
_viz._, the atonement and pardon of sin and the salvation of the
soul--an element in which the religious ceremonies of the Hindoos are
singularly deficient.
"Life is real, life is earnest,
And the grave is not its goal;
'Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'
Was not spoken of the soul."
It was reported of Sir William Jones that when he studied Sanskrit, he
used to place on the table a metal image of this goddess, evidently to
please his Pundit. Let it not be inferred from this that he advocated
the continuance of idolatry; far from it, but even in appearance to
acquiesce in homage to an idol made of clay and straw is to withhold
from the Most High the reverence, gratitude and obedience due to Him
alone. The early formation of a prayerful habit divested of any
idolatrous feature will always exercise a healthy religious influence on
the mind in maturer years.
In every _chatoospati_ or school, the Brahmin Pundit and his pupils
worship this goddess with religious strictness. The Pundit setting up an
image, invites all his patrons, neighbouring friends and acquaintances
on this occasion. Every one who attends must make a present of one or a
half Rupee to the goddess, and returns home with the hollow benediction
of the Brahmin. To so miserable a strait have the learned Pundits been
reduced of late years, that they anxiously look forward to the
anniversary of this festival as a small harvest of gain to them, as the
authoritative ministers of the goddess. They make from fifty to one
hundred Rupees a year by the celebration of this Poojah, which keeps
them for six months; should any of their friends fail to make the usual
present to the goddess, they are sure to come and demand it as a
right.[82]
Females are not allowed to take a part in the worship of this goddess,
simply because the great lawgiver of the country has denied them this
privilege. They, however, now-a-days read and write in spite of the
traditional prohibition, but are religiously forbidden to say their
prayer before the goddess, though she is herself an embodiment of their
sex. It is quite obvious that feelings of lamentable debasement arise in
their hearts at the annual recurrence of this festival, strongly
reminding them of the unhealthy, unnatural ordinance of their great
lawgiver.
The day following the Poojah, the women are not permitted to eat any
_fresh_ prepared article of food, but must be satisfied with stale, cold
things, such as boiled rice and boiled pease with a few vegetables,
totally abstaining from fish, which they cannot do without on any other
day. Taking place on the sixth day of the increase of the moon, this
part of the festival is called _Situl Shasthi_ as enjoining the use of
cold food.
As a mark of homage to the goddess, the Hindoos do not read or write on
that day. Hence the day is observed as a holiday in public and
mercantile offices where the clerks are mostly Hindoos. Should any
necessity arise they write in red ink, as all the inkstands in the
household are washed out and placed before the goddess for annual
consecration. They are, however, not prevented from attending to secular
business on this occasion. Unlike the sanguinary character of the
Poojahs of Doorga and Kali, no bloody sacrifices are offered to this
gentle goddess, but as regards rude merriment, the one in question does
not form an exception to the others. Revelry and unbecoming mirth are
the grand characteristics of this as indeed of almost every other Hindoo
festival. It is sickening to reflect how indecency and immorality are
thus unblushingly countenanced under the sacred name of religion.
Loose women celebrate this festival, and keep up dancing and singing all
night in a bestial state of intoxication to the utter disgust of all
sober-minded men. The Moharajah of Burdwan used to expend large sums of
money on this occasion, engaging the best dancing girls of the
metropolis and illuminating and ornamenting his palace in a splendid
style, besides giving entertainment to his English and Native friends.
Vast multitudes of people from Calcutta still resort to his palace and
admire the profuse festoons of flowers and the yellow appearance of
everything, indicative of the advent of spring,--a season which,
according to popular notion, invites the mind to indulge in licentious
mirth. It is needless to enumerate farther the many obscenities
practised in songs and actions on this occasion.
FOOTNOTES:
[82] A gift once made to a Brahmin must be continued from year to year
till the donor dies; in some cases it is tenable from one generation to
another.
XI.
THE FESTIVAL OF CAKES.
On the annual commemoration of this popular festival in Bengal, which is
analogous to the English "Harvest home," the people in general, and the
agricultural classes in particular, manifest a gleeful appearance,
indicative of national demonstrations of joy and mirth. It takes place
in the Bengalee month of _Pous_ or January, following immediately in the
wake of the English Christmas and New year's day. With the exception of
the upper ten thousand, almost all men, women and children alike
participate in the festivities of the season, and for three succeeding
days are occupied in rural pastimes and gastronomical enjoyment. The
popular cry on this occasion, is--"_Awoynee_, _Bownee_, _teen deen_,
_pittaey_, _bhat_, _khawnee_," "the _Pous_ or _Makar Sankranti_ is come,
let three days be passed in eating cakes and rice," accompanied by a
supplementary invocation to the goddess of Prosperity (Lukshmee) that
she may afford her votaries ample stores so that they may never know
want. As the outward manifestation of this internal wish, they tie all
their chests, boxes, beddings, the earthen cooking pots in the kitchen,
as well as those in the store-house containing their food grains, and in
fact every movable article in the house, with shreds of straw that they
may always remain intact. The origin of this festival is involved in
obscurity, but tradition says that it sprung from the general desire of
the people engaged in agricultural pursuits to celebrate the last day of
_Pous_, and two succeeding days, in eating what they most relish, cakes
of all sorts, to their hearts' content, after having harvested and
gathered their corn and other food grains, which form the main staff of
their life. Whatever may have been the origin of this festival, it is
evident that it does not owe its existence, like most other Hindoo
festivals, to priestcraft. The idea is good and the tendency excellent.
After harvesting and gathering the fruits of their labour, on which
depend not only their individual subsistence throughout the year, but
the general prosperity of the country by the development of its
resources, the husbandmen are well entitled to lay aside, for a short
while, the ploughshare, and taking three days' rest, spend them in rural
amusements and festivities amid their domestic circle. All this tends,
in no small degree, to awaken and revive dormant feelings of love and
friendliness by mutual exchange of invitations as well as of good
fellowship. Their incessant toil in the field during the seven previous
months, their intense anxiety on the score of weather, carefully noting,
though not with the scientific precision of the meteorological reporter,
deficient and plenteous rainfall, and apprehending the destructive
October gale, when the ears of corn are almost fully developed, their
constant watchfulness for the prevention of theft and the destruction of
the crops by cattle, their unceasing weeding out of troublesome and
useless plants and _cassay_ grass, sometimes wading in marshy swamp or
mire knee deep, and their incessant anxiety for the due payment of rent
to the zemindar, or perhaps of interest to the relentless money lender,
are sources of uneasiness that do not allow them a moment's peace of
mind. Should they, by way of relaxation, cease to work for three days in
the year, they are not to be blamed for laziness or supineness. The
question of a good harvest is of such immense importance to an
agricultural country like India, that when the god, Ram Chunder, the
model king, visited his subjects in Oude, the first thing he asked them
was about the state of the crops, and when the enquiry was favorably
answered, his mind was set at rest, and he cheerfully unfolded to them
the scheme of his future Government.[83] Physically and practically
considered, temporary cessation from labor is indispensable to recruit
the energy of the exhausted frame of body, and promote the normal vigor
of mind. So in whatever light this national jubilee is regarded,
socially, morally or scientifically, it is productive of beneficial
results, ultimately contributing to the augmentation of the material
prosperity of the land.
Some of my countrymen of a fastidious taste look upon this festival as a
puerile and foolish entertainment, because it possesses no dignified
feature to commend it to their attention, but they should consider that
it is free from the idolatrous abominations and rank obscenity by which
most of the Hindoo festivals are characterised, independently of its
having a tendency to promote the innocent mirth and general hilarity of
the masses, whose contentment is the best test of a good government and
of a generous landed aristocracy.
So popular is this festival amongst the people that the Mussulmans have
a common saying to the effect, that their _Eed_, _Bakrid_ and
_Shub-i-Barat_--three of their greatest national festivals--are no match
for the Hindoo _Pous Sakrad_.
Our children and women in the city, whose minds are so largely tinctured
with an instinctive regard for all festivities, share in the general
excitement. On this occasion, exchanges of presents of sweetmeats,
cloths, jaggery, ghee, flour, oranges, cereals, cocoanuts, balls of
concentrated milk, vegetables, spices, sugar, almonds, raisins, etc, are
made between relatives in order that they may be enabled to solemnise
the cake festival with the greatest _éclat_. In respectable families,
the women cheerfully take the trouble of making these preparations,
instead of trusting them to their female cooks, because male cooks are
no adepts in the art. So nicely are these cakes made and in such
variety, that the late Mr. Cockerell, a highly respected merchant of
this City, used every year to get an assortment from his Baboo and
invite his friends to partake of them; and notwithstanding the
proverbial differences of taste, there are few who would not relish
them.
The boys in the many pátshálás or primary schools around Calcutta,
annually keep up this festival in a splendid style. The more advanced
form themselves into a band of songsters, and, attended by bands of
musicians with all the usual accompaniments of flags, staves, etc.,
proceed in procession from their respective schools to the bank of the
river Bhagiruttee, singing rhythmically in a chorus all the way in
praise of the holy stream, and of her powers of salvation in the present
_Kali Yuga_, or iron age. When they reach their destination they pour
forth their songs most vociferously. They afterwards perform the usual
ablutions and return home in the same manner as they set out from the
Pátshálá, regarding the performance as an act of great merit.
FOOTNOTES:
[83] Indeed, it has become a byword among the Natives in general that
the compound word, "_Ram-Rajya_," or the empire of Ram is synonymous
with a happy dynasty. There existed peace, union and harmony among the
people in the infancy of society. Almost every family had its assigned
plot of land which they cultivated, and the fruits of which they enjoyed
without the incubus of a rack-renting system, because the virgin soil
always afforded an abundant harvest. The wants of the people were few
and those were easily supplied. In fact there was a complete identity of
interests between the rulers and the ruled. The result was universal
contentment and happiness. But unhappily the present advanced stage of
social organisation has considerably impaired the relation.
XII.
The Holi Festival.
The annual return of this festival in honor of the god Krishna, excites
the religious feelings and superstitious frenzy of the Hindoos not only
in Bengal but also in Orissa, Bombay, and in the Upper Provinces of
India. From time immemorial, it has continued to exercise a very great
influence over the minds of the people at large, so much so that what
the Holi festival is in the Upper Provinces, the Doorga Poojah is in the
Lower Provinces of Bengal, being by far the most popular and
demonstrative in all their leading features. Though originally and
essentially a Hindoo festival of a religious character, dedicated to the
worship of a Hindoo god, it has subsequently assumed a jubilant phase,
drawing the followers of a different creed to its ranks; hence not a few
Mussulmans in Upper India observe it in a secular sense, quite distinct
from its religious aspect or requirements.
In Bengal it is called _Dole Jattra_, or the rocking of the image of
Krishna on its throne. It occurs on the day of the full moon in the
Bengallee month of Falgoon or March, at the vernal equinox,--a season of
the year when all the appetites, passions and desires of the people are
supposed to be more or less inflamed, and they naturally seek outlets of
gratification. In the Upper Provinces it is known by the name of _Holi_,
or festival of scattering _fhag_ or red powder among friends and others.
On the previous night the people both here and in the Upper Provinces
burn amidst music the effigy of an uncouth straw image of a giant named
Maydhasoor, who caused great disturbance among the gods and goddesses in
their hours of meditation and prayer. To put a stop to this unholy
molestation the god Narayan or Krishna destroyed the giant by means of
his matchless valor and skill, and thus restored peace in heaven as well
as on earth. To commemorate this glorious achievement, the image of the
above giant is annually burnt on the night previous to the _Holi_
festival.
The religious part of the ceremony, irrespective of its idolatrous
element, is performed in accordance with the original rules of the
Hindoo ritual, which are free from all kinds of abominations. But the
great body of the people, lacking the vital principle of a pure and true
faith and following the impulse of unrestrained appetites, have
gradually sunk into the depths of corruption,--the outcome of impure
imaginations and of a vitiated taste. In Bengal, the observance of this
festival is not characterised by anything that is violently opposed to
the social amenities of life. Notwithstanding the many-featured phases
and multitudinous requirements of the Hindoo creed, the peculiarities of
this festival are mainly confined to the worship of the household image,
and the entertainment of the Brahmins and friends. Daubing the bodies of
the guests with red powder in an either dry or liquid state, and singing
songs descriptive of the sports of Krishna with the milk-maids in the
groves of Brindabun, form the constituent elements of the festival in
Bengal. Offerings of rice, fruits and sweetmeats are made to the god,
and its body is also smeared with red powder by the officiating priest,
so as to render it one with that of its followers. At the close of the
ceremony, the rite of purification is performed, which restores the
image--either a piece of stone or metal--to its normal purity.
It is a noteworthy fact that in this festival, no _new_ image made of
clay and straw is either set up or thrown into the sacred stream, as is
invariably the case with the other Hindoo gods and goddesses generally
worshipped by the people of Bengal. Krishna, in whose honor this
festival is celebrated, has many forms, one of which generally
constitutes the household deity that is worshipped every morning and
evening by the hereditary priest with all the solemnity of a religious
service. A Hindoo who keeps an image of this god is esteemed more in a
religious point of view than one who is without it. In the popular
estimation he escapes many censures to which a godless Hindoo is often
exposed. Nor is this at all singular. An orthodox Hindoo who offers up
his daily prayer to his tutelar deity is at least more consistent in his
principles, which, as Confucius very justly says, means Heaven, than one
who is tossed about by a wavering faith in the indistinguishable whirl
of life.
The festival of Dole Jattra or Holi in Bengal, commencing on the day of
the full moon, varies, however, in its observance as to the day on which
it is to be held. Some celebrate it on the first, some on the second,
and some again on the third, fifth, seventh, ninth day of the dark phase
of the moon. Generally Vaishnaws, or the followers of Krishna, observe
it, though in some cases, the Saktos,--the followers of Doorga and
Kalli--also celebrate it. No bloody sacrifices are offered on the
occasion. Apart from the religious merit attributed to the ceremonial,
it is comparatively a tame and undemonstrative affair in the Lower
Provinces of Bengal when compared with the sensational excitement with
which it is celebrated in the Upper Provinces. In Orissa too, it is kept
up with great eclat before the shrine of Juggurnauth and its environs.
Thousands and tens of thousands of pilgrims from a great distance
congregate there on this occasion and offer their oblations to the
"stumped" lord of the world. When the inhabitants of Bengal talk of
their most popular festivals, they pronounce almost involuntarily the
_Dole_ and _Doorgutsub_, but the latter has long since completely
eclipsed the former. Morally, socially and intellectually the
enlightened Bengallees are assuredly the Athenians of Hindoostan. Their
growing intelligence and refined taste,--the outcome of English
education--have imbued them with a healthier ideal of moral excellence
than any other section of the Indian population throughout the length
and breadth of the land (the Parsis of Bombay excepted). It is owing to
the influence of this superior moral sense that they do not abandon
themselves to the general corruption of manners obtaining in Upper India
during the _Holi_ festival.
"Fools make a mock at sin" is a scriptural proverb which is especially
applicable to the inhabitants of the Upper Provinces on the annual
return of this festival. Unlike their brethren in Bengal they pay
greater attention to the secular than to the religious part of the
ceremony. A few days before the _Holi_, as if to enkindle the flame of a
national demonstration of a sensational character, they return to the
low, obscene old ballads which constitute a notable feature of the
ceremonial. Week after week, day after day, and hour after hour, they
pour them out almost as spontaneously as a bird, because they have a
perverse propensity for the indulgence of impure thoughts, and rude,
profane mirth, which is an outrage on common decency and a scandal to a
rational being. Notwithstanding the vigilance of the Police and the
stringency of the Penal Code, these ragamuffins stroll along the public
streets in bands, dance antics and sing obscene songs with impunity,
simply because the major portion of the Native constables come from the
same lower strata of society. Of course before a European they dare not
commit the same nuisance. Should a luckless female, even old and infirm,
chance to come in their way, they unblushingly assail her with a volley
of scurrilous and insulting epithets much too gross to be tolerated by a
rational being having the smallest modicum of decorum about him. To give
a specimen of the songs, vulgar as they unquestionably are, would be an
act of unpardonable profanation. Even in the Burra Bazar of Calcutta,
where the Up-country Hindoos mostly reside, excesses and enormities are
committed, even in the full blaze of day, which alike belie reason and
conscience, and ignore the divine part of humanity. Mirth, music and
melody do not form the programme of their amusement, but a feverish
excitement, originating in lust and leading to criminal excesses, is the
characteristic of the scene. If a sober-minded man were permitted to
examine the Cash Book of a country liquor shop, he would most assuredly
be struck with the enormous receipts of the shopkeeper during the
festive days on this occasion. Bacchanalianism in all its most
detestable forms reigns rampant in almost every home and purlieu
throughout the Upper Provinces. Every brothel, every toddykhannah, every
grog shop, is crowded with customers from early morning to dewy evening
and later on. An almost incessant volume of polluted and polluting
outcries rises to the skies from these dens of sin, smirching and
vulgarising the brilliant ideals of a holy festival. The endless
chanting of obscene songs, the discordant notes of the inebriated
songsters almost tearing their throats in excessive vociferations, the
harsh din of music, their frightful gesticulations and contortions of
the body, their frantic dance, their dithyrambic fanaticism in which
every sense of decorum is lost, their horrid looks rendered tenfold more
horrid by reason of their smearing their bodies with red powder, the
pestiferous atmosphere by which they are encompassed, and their reeling
posture and bestial intoxication, _all_ conspire to make them "mock at
sin."[84] Nor is this to be wondered at. The lives and examples of the
Hindoo gods have, in a great measure, moulded the character of their
followers: "Shiva is represented as declaring to Luckhee that he would
part with the merit of his works for the gratification of a criminal
passion; Brahma as burning with lust towards his own daughter; Krishna
as living with the wife of another, murdering a washerman and stealing
his clothes, and sending his friend Yoodhisthira to the regions of
torment by causing him to utter a falsehood; Indra and Chundra are seen
as the paramours of the wives of their spiritual guides." It is much to
be lamented that the authors of the Hindoo mythology have unscrupulously
held up the revels of their gods to the imitation of their followers.
It is but just to observe that the more respectable classes are
restrained by a sense of honor from participating with the populace in
the vicious pleasures of undisciplined passions. But their implied
approval of such sensual gratifications tends, in no small degree, to
fan the flame of superstitious frenzy. If they do not expose themselves
in the highway, they betray their concupiscence within the confines of
their own dwellings. They substitute opium and bhang (hemp) for
spirituous liquors, and among the females of the house, some aunt or
other is the butt of their rude, unseemly satire. Their lusts and want
of inward discipline, stimulated by a false religion as well as by the
demoralized rules of an abnormal conventionalism, have deadened, as it
were, their finer sensibilities, and generations must pass away before
they are enabled rightly to appreciate their social relations and their
moral and religious duties.
FOOTNOTES:
[84] When the late Mr. Thomason, the Lieutenant-Governor of the
North-Western Provinces, visited Benares, the far famed city of holy
shrines and holy bulls, during this festival, he exclaimed in pious
indignation, "what disgusting scenes are enacted and frightful crimes
perpetrated in the name of religion by rational beings capable of purer
and sublimer enjoyments. Surely the shameless ragamuffins are the fit
subjects of a bedlam."
XIII.
CASTE.
The distinction of caste is woven into the very texture of Hindoo
society. In whatever light it is considered, religiously, morally, or
socially, it must be admitted that this abnormal system is calculated to
perpetuate the ignorance and degradation of the race among which it
prevails. It is useless to enquire when and by whom it was founded. The
Hindoo Shastras do not agree as to this point, but it is obvious to
conclude that it must have originated in a dark age when a proud and
selfish priesthood, in the exercise of its sacerdotal functions, imposed
on the people this galling yoke of religious and social servitude. Even
the rulers of the land were not exempt from its baneful influence. They
were as much subject to the prescribed rules of their order as the
common people. Calculating on the implicit and unquestioning obedience
of men to their authoritative injunctions, a scheming hierarchy
established a universal system, the demoralizing effects of which are
perhaps without a parallel in the annals of human society. The capacity
and culture of man's intellect was shamefully under-estimated when it
was expected that such an artificial order, so preposterously unsuited
to the interests of humanity and to the advancement of civilization,
should for ever continue to influence the life and destiny of unborn
generations.
"The distinctions of rank in Europe" says Mr. Ward, "are founded upon
civic merit or learning, and answer very important ends in the social
union; but this system commences with an act of the most consummate
injustice that was ever perpetrated; binds in chains of adamant
nine-tenths of the people, debars them for ever from all access to a
higher state, whatever their merits may be; puts a lock upon the whole
intellect of three of the four orders, and branding their very birth
with infamy, and rivetting their chains for ever, says to millions and
millions of mankind,--'you proceeded from the feet of Brahma, you were
created for servitude.'"
History furnishes no parallel to such an audacious declaration, made in
utter defiance of the fundamental principles of humanity. The onward
march of intellect can never be checked, even when fenced in by the
strongest of artificial barriers. Still will that "grey spirit" rise and
chase away the errors which age has accumulated and superstition
cherished.
"That grey spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge, like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought."
The distinction of caste, it is obvious, was originally instituted to
secure to the hierarchy all the superior advantages of a privileged
class, and to condemn all other orders to follow menial occupations such
as the trades of the country could furnish. They kept the key of
knowledge in their own hands, and thus exercised a domineering influence
over the mass of the people, imagining that their exclusive privileges
should have endless duration. This power in their hands was "either a
treasury chest or a rod of iron." The mind recoils from contemplating
what would have been the state of the country, the extent of her
hopelessness and helplessness, if the light of European knowledge had
not dawned and penetrated the Hindoo mind, and thereby introduced a
healthier state of things. Eighty years back this system was at the
zenith of its splendour; men clung to it with all the tenacity of a
natural institution, and proscribed those who ventured to break through
its fetters. It was a terrible thing then to depart from the established
order of social union; the least whisper of a deviation and the
slightest violation of its rules were visited with social persecution
of the worst type. I cannot do better than give a few instances,
illustrating the nature of the punishments to which a Hindoo was
subjected in that period of terror, when caste-mania raged most
furiously.
"After the establishment of the English power in Bengal, the caste of a
Brahmin of Calcutta was destroyed by a European who forced into his
mouth flesh, spirits, &c. After remaining three years an outcast, great
efforts were made, at an expense of eighty thousand rupees, to restore
him to the pale of his caste, but in vain, as many Brahmins of the same
order refused to associate with him as one of their own. After this, an
expense of two lacks of Rupees more was incurred, when he was
re-admitted to the privileges of his caste. About the year 1802, a
person in Calcutta expended in feasting and presents to Brahmins fifty
thousand Rupees to be re-admitted into the ring of his caste from which
he had been excluded for eating with a Brahmin of the _Peeralee_ caste.
Not long after this, two _Peeralee_ Brahmins of Calcutta made an effort
to wipe out the opprobrium of _Peeralism_, but were disappointed, though
they had expended a very large sum of money.
"Ghunusyamu, a Brahmin, about thirty-five years ago, went to England and
was excommunicated. Gocool, another Brahmin, about the same time went to
Madras, and was renounced by his relatives; but after incurring some
expense in feasting Brahmins, he was received back. In the year 1808, a
blacksmith of Serampore returned from Madras and was disowned by his
fellow caste men, but after expending two thousand Rupees amongst the
Brahmins, he was restored to his family and friends. In the same year
the mother of Kali Prosaud Ghose, a rich _Kayusto_ of Benares, who had
lost caste by intercourse with Mussulmans and was called a _Peeralee_,
died. Kali Prosaud was much concerned on account of the rites required
to be performed in honor of the manes of his deceased parent, but no
Brahmin would officiate at the ceremony; after much entreaty and
promise of rewards, he prevailed at last upon eleven Brahmins to perform
the necessary ceremonies at night. A person who had a dispute with these
Brahmins informed against them, and they were immediately abandoned by
their friends. After waiting several days in vain, hoping that his
friends would relent, one of these Brahmins, tying himself to a jar of
water, drowned himself in the Ganges. Some years ago, Ram, a Brahmin of
Tribany, having, by mistake, married his son to a _Peeralee_ girl, and
being abandoned by his friends, died of a broken heart. In the year
1803, Shibu Ghose, a _Kayusto_, married a _Peeralee_ girl, and was not
restored to his caste till after seven years, and after he had expended
seven thousand Rupees for the expiation of his offence. About the same
period, a Brahmin woman of Velupookuria, having been defloured, and in
consequence outcasted, put an end to her existence by voluntary
starvation. In the village of Buj Buj, some years ago, a young man who
had lost his caste through the criminal intrigues of his mother, a
widow, in a state of frenzy poisoned himself, and his two surviving
brothers abandoned the country. Goorooprasaud, a Brahmin of Churna, in
Burdwan, not many years ago, through fear of losing caste, in
consequence of the infidelity of his wife, left his home and died of
grief at Benares. About the year 1800, a Brahmin lady of Santipore
murdered her illegitimate child, to prevent discovery and loss of caste.
In the year 1807, a Brahmin of Tribany murdered his wife by strangling
her to avert loss of caste through her criminal intrigues. About the
year 1790, Kalidass, a Brahmin, who had been inveigled into marrying a
washerman's daughter, was obliged to flee the country to Benares, where
being discovered, he sold all his property and fled, and his wife became
a maniac. In the time of Rajah Krishna Chunder Roy, a Brahmin of
Santipore was found to have a criminal intrigue with the daughter of a
shoemaker: the Rajah forbade the barber of the village to shave the
family or the washerman to wash for them: in this distress they applied
to the Rajah and afterwards to the Nawab for restoration, but in vain.
After having been despoiled of their resources by the false promises of
pretended friends, the Rajah relented and removed the ban, but the
family have not obtained to this day their pristine position.[85]
"Numbers of outcasts abandon their homes and wander about till death.
Many other instances might be given in which the fear of losing caste
had led to the perpetration of the most shocking murders, which in this
country are easily concealed, and thousands of children are murdered in
the womb, to prevent discovery and the consequent loss of caste,
particularly in the houses of the Koolin Brahmins."
The inveterate tenacity with which the rites and privileges of caste are
clung to is a prominent feature of the Hindoo character, showing, like
many other facts, that as a nation--the Rajpoots excepted--they fear the
sword-blade, but can meet death with calmness and fortitude when they
apprehend any danger to the purity of caste. In the year 1777, a
Mussulman nobleman forcibly seized the daughters of three Brahmins. They
complained to the judge of the district, but obtaining no redress, they
committed suicide by poison under the nose of the unrighteous judge.
"When, about a century since, a body of sepoys were being brought from
Madras to Calcutta, the provisions ran short, till at last the only food
consisted of salted beef and pork. Though a few submitted to the
necessity of circumstances and defiled themselves, many preferred a
languishing death by famine to a life polluted by tasting forbidden
food. The Mussulman Governors often took advantage of this prejudice,
when their exchequers were empty. The Hindoo would submit to the most
excruciating tortures rather than disclose his hoard, but the moment his
religious purity was threatened, he complied with any demand, if the sum
asked for was within his means; if not, the man being linked to his
caste fellows, the latter raised the required sum by subscription."
In a moral point of view, the effects of this distinction are equally
mischievous. Far from promoting a spirit of benevolence and good
fellowship between man and man, it has a natural tendency to engender
hostile feelings, which cannot fail to militate against the best
interests of humanity. Should a Hindoo of inferior caste happen to touch
one of superior caste, while the latter is cooking or eating, he throws
away everything as defiled. Even in cases of extreme sickness, the one
will seldom condescend to drink water out of the hands of the other.
There are also instances on record in which two Hindoos of the same
caste refuse to eat together, simply because they belong to two several
_dalls_ or parties; in the villages especially this partisan feeling is
sometimes carried to so great a length that no party will scruple to
blast the fair fame of their antagonists by scandalous accusations and
uncalled-for slanders. Thousands and thousands of Rupees are spent in
securing the favors or alliance of the _Koolins_--the great arbiters of
caste,--and he who by the power of his purse can enlist on his side a
larger number of these pampered _Koolins_, generally takes away the
palm. The hard struggle for the attainment of this hollow, ephemeral
distinction, instead of stimulating any noble desire or laudable
ambition, almost invariably terminates in fostering an antagonistic
spirit, which is decidedly opposed to the laws of good fellowship and
the general brotherhood of mankind. Genuine charity can never exist in
such an unexpansive state of society, and mutual love is torn in
shreds. If the original founder of the system had calmly and soberly
considered, apart from selfish motives, a tithe of the evils which the
caste system was calculated to inflict on society, he would, I make no
doubt, have paused before imposing on Hindoo society the fetters of
caste servitude.
It has been urged by the advocates of the system that it is designed to
confer a great boon on society by confining each trade or occupation to
one particular class, and thereby securing perfection in that line; but
the argument is as fallacious as the result is disappointing. Experience
and observation sufficiently prove that the Hindoo artisans use almost
the same tools and implements which their predecessors used centuries
ago. They work with the same loom and spindle, the same plough, the same
spade, the same scythe, the same threshing machine, and the same
everything that were in vogue at the time of _Vicramadyatta_ in the
sixteenth century, and if any improvement has been effected, it is owing
to the superior skill of the foreigners. It is, however, creditable to
the native artisans to say that they evince a great aptitude for
learning and imitating what they see. Native carpenters, shoemakers,
tailors, engravers, lithographers, printers, gold and silver-smiths,
&c., now-a-days turn out articles which in point of workmanship are not
very much inferior to those imported from Europe. Of course they are
materially indebted to Europeans for this improvement.
The circumstances which cause the loss of caste are the following: The
abandonment of the Hindoo religion, journey to foreign countries which
involves the eating of forbidden food, the eating of food cooked by one
of inferior caste or of food forbidden to the Hindoos, female unchastity
in a family, the cohabiting with women of a lower caste, or with those
of foreign nations and the non-performance of religious rites
prescribed in the Shastras.[86] There are other circumstances which
detract from the dignity of a family, but they are of secondary
importance. These causes were in full operation some seventy or eighty
years ago. The unanimous voice of the neighbours denounced a Hindu as an
outcast if he were found guilty of any of the above transgressions.
Purity of caste was then watched with greater solicitude than purity of
conscience and character. The magnates of the land spared neither
expense nor pains to preserve inviolate the outward purity of their
caste. The popular shastras of the Hindoos are certainly very convenient
and accommodating in every respect; the sins of a life-time, nay of ten
lives, may be washed away by an ablution in the sacred stream of the
Ganges on the occasion of certain _holy days_ called _yogas_; so
requisite provision is made in them for the atonement of the loss of
caste by performing certain religious rites and feasting, and making
suitable presents to Brahmins in money and kind. But it has always been
a matter of wonder to many that the _Peeralees_ or the Tagores of
Calcutta, alike noted for their wealth and liberality, have not as yet
been able to regain their caste or their original position in Hindu
society. The obvious reason appears to be that they are not desirous of
a restoration by submitting to any kind of humiliating atonement. They
have shown their wisdom in pursuing such an independent and manly
course. The history of _Peeralee_ is thus given by Mr. Ward: "A Nabob of
the name of _Peeralee_ is charged with having destroyed the rank of many
Hindus, Brahmins and others; and from these persons have descended a
very considerable number of families scattered over the country, who
have been branded with the name of their oppressor. These persons
practise all the ceremonies of the Hindu religion, but are carefully
avoided by other Hindus as outcasts. It is supposed that not less than
fifty families live in Calcutta, who employ Brahmin priests to perform
the ceremonies of the Hindu religion for them. It is said that Rajah
Krishna Chunder Roy was promised five lacks of Rupees by a _Peeralee_,
if he would only honor him with a visit of a few moments, but he
refused." Such was the virulence with which the caste mania raged when
Hindu bigotry had reached its culminating point. Rajah Krishna Chunder
Roy of Kishnaghur, about 100 miles north of Calcutta, was otherwise
reputed to have been a very generous-hearted man, a great patron of
learning and learned men, but he was so blindly led away by the impulse
of bigotry that he unhesitatingly declined to assist a brother
countryman of his who had been subjected to social ostracism through
mere accident. But the Rajah's grandson, if I am rightly informed, when
he had occasion to come down to Calcutta a few years back,
unscrupulously took up his quarters at Spence's Hotel, and freely
enjoyed the company of his European friends, indicating a healthy change
in the social economy of the people, the result solely of intellectual
expansion, and of the inauguration of a better era through the rapid
diffusion of western knowledge.[87]
The _Peeralee_ or the Tagore family of Calcutta, be it recorded to their
honor, have long been eminently distinguished by their liberality, manly
independence, enlightened principles and enterprising spirit. Some of
the members of this family occupy the foremost rank amongst the friends
of native improvement. The late Baboo Dwarkey Nath Tagore set a noble
example to his countrymen by his disinterested exertions in the cause of
native education and public charities. Several of his European friends
were under deep obligations to him for his unbounded liberality under
peculiarly embarrassed circumstances;[88] the length of his purse was
equalled by the breadth of his views. His object in proceeding to
England was mainly to extend his knowledge by a closer and more familiar
intercourse with Europeans. He was the right hand of the illustrious
Hindoo reformer, the late Raja Rammohun Roy. His magnanimous mind, his
enlightened views, his engaging manners, his amiable qualities both in
public and private life, and his indomitable zeal in endeavouring to
elevate his country in the scale of civilization, gave him an influence
in English society never before or after enjoyed by any Hindoo
gentleman. His worthy relative and coadjutor, the late Baboo Prosono
Coomar Tagore, C. S. I., who has left a princely fortune, was no less
distinguished for his enlarged views and liberal sentiments. His rich
endowment of the Tagore Law Lecturship in connection with the Calcutta
University has substantially established his claim on the gratitude of
his countrymen. It was he that first started the native English Paper
called the "Reformer," which not only opened the eyes of the Hindoos to
the errors of the antiquated system under which they lived, but diffused
a healthy taste for the cultivation of English literature among the
rising generation of his countrymen, and thereby paved the way for the
development of advanced thought and intelligent opinion on the practical
enunciation and appreciation of which mainly depends the future
advancement of the nation. The late Moha Rajah Ramanauth Tagore, C. S.
I., another member of the Tagore family, was deservedly esteemed for his
liberal sentiments, his high sense of honor, his scrupulous fidelity and
his unblemished character. Baboo Debendernath Tagore, the son of the
late Baboo Dwarkeynauth Tagore, bears a highly exemplary character. His
uncompromising straightforwardness, his sincerity and piety, his high
integrity, his devotedness to the cause of religion, his unassuming
habits, the suavity of his disposition, and his utter contempt for
worldly enjoyments, have shed an unfading lustre around his name. Well
may India be proud of such a worthy son. Moha Raja Jotendermohun Tagore,
C. S. I., Raja Sourendermohun Tagore, his brother, and Baboo
Gynendermohun Tagore, the son of the late Baboo Prosonocoomar Tagore,
also belong to this family: all of them bear a very high character for
intelligence, integrity, and sound moral principles.
All these distinguished individuals are descended from _Peeralee_
ancestors. Few have more deservedly merited the respect and esteem of
their countrymen, or better vindicated their rightful claim to the
honors bestowed on some of them. If they are denounced as outcasts, such
outcasts are the ornaments of the country. If they are far in the rear
of caste they are assuredly far in the van of intelligence, ability,
mental activity, refinement and honesty. If to be a _Peeralee_ were an
indelible stigma, it is certainly a glory to the whole nation that such
a noble and stainless character as Baboo Debendernauth Tagore is a
member of the same family. We would search in vain among the countless
myriads of India for such a meek, spotless, but bright and glorious
model.
It is, moreever, to the _Peeralee_ or Tagore family that the enlightened
Hindoo community of Calcutta is principally indebted for its refined
taste and elevated ideas. May they continue to shed their benign
influence not only on the rising but unborn generations of their
countrymen, and carry on the work of reformation, not with the
impetuosity of rash innovators, but with the cool deliberation of
reflecting minds.
The rules of caste are not now strictly observed, and their observance
is scarcely compatible with the spirit of the age, and in one sense we
have scarcely a Hindoo in Bengal, especially amongst those who live in
the Presidency town and the district towns.
The distinction of caste is more honored in the breach than in the
observance of it.[89] As English schools and colleges are multiplying in
every nook and corner of the empire, more liberal ideas and principles
are being imbibed by the Hindoo youths, which bid fair in process of
time to exercise a regenerating influence on the habits of the people.
Idolatry, and its necessary concomitant, priestcraft, is fast losing its
hold on their minds; a new phase of life indicates the near approach of
an improved order of things; ideas which had for ages been pent up in
the dark, dreary cell of ignorance now find a free outlet, and the
recipients of knowledge breathe a purer atmosphere, clear of the hazy
mists that had hitherto clouded their intellect. To a philanthropist
such a forecast is in the highest degree encouraging. The distinction of
caste has also received a fatal blow by the frequent visits of young and
aspiring native gentlemen to England for the purpose of completing their
education there. This growing desire among the rising generation should
be encouraged as it has an excellent tendency to promote the moral and
intellectual improvement of the nation.
The late Baboo Ramdoolal Dey,[90] of Calcutta, who was a self-made man
and a millionaire, was a Dullaputty or head of a party. When the
subject of caste was discussed, he emphatically said, that "the caste
was in his iron chest," the meaning of which was that money has the
power of restoring caste.
The late Baboo Ram Gopal Ghose, a distinguished merchant and reformer of
this City, had a country residence at Bagati, near Tribani, in the
Hooghly district, about 100 miles east of Calcutta. He had a mother who
was, as might be expected, a superstitious old lady. Baboo Ram Gopal on
principle never wounded her feelings by interfering with her religious
belief. On the occasion of the Doorga Poojah at his country house, his
mother as usual directed the servants to distribute the _noybidhi_, or
offerings, consisting of rice, fruits and sweetmeats, among the Brahmins
of the neighbourhood; but they all, to a man, refused to accept the
same, on the ground that Ram Gopal was not a _Hindoo_, which was
tantamount to declaring that he had no faith in Hindooism, and was an
outcast from Hindooism. On seeing the offerings brought back, his
mother's lamentations knew no bounds, because the refusal of the
Brahmins to accept the offerings was a dishonor, and involved the
question of the loss of caste. Apprehending the dreadful consequences of
such a refusal, especially in a village where bigotry reigned supreme,
the old lady became quite disconsolate. Ram Gopal, who with strong
common sense combined the benefit of a liberal English education,
thought of the following expedient: He at once suggested that every
_noybidhi_ (offering) should be accompanied by a sum of five Rupees. The
temptation was too great to be resisted, the very Brahmins who, two
hours back, openly refused to take the offerings, now came running in
numbers to Ram Gopal's house for their share, and regularly scrambled
for the thing. In fact, he had more demands than he could meet. Thus a
few Rupees had the marvellous effect of turning a _Sahib_ into a pure
Hindoo, fully illustrating the truth of Ramdoolal Dey's saying, that
"Caste was in his iron chest." Examples of this nature may be multiplied
to any extent, but they are not necessary. Thus we see the decadence of
this artificial system is inevitable, as indeed of every other unhealthy
institution opposed to the best interests of humanity.
I cannot close this chapter without drawing the attention of my readers
to the gross inconsistency of the conduct of the caste apologists.
Thousands and tens of thousands of the most orthodox Hindoos daily
violate the rules of caste by using the _shidho cháll_, (rice produced
from boiled paddy) which is often prepared by Mussulmans and other low
caste husbandmen, whose very touch is pollution to the food of the
Hindoo. It is a notorious fact that nine-tenths of the Hindoos of
Bengal, including the Brahmin class, are in the habit of eating _shidho
cháll_, which is the prime staff of their lives, simply because the
other kind of rice, _átab cháll_(rice produced from sun-dried paddy),
contains too much starch or nutritive property and is difficult of
digestion by _bhayto_ or rice-fed Bengallees who are, with a few
exceptions, constitutionally weak from a variety of causes enumerated
before. In the North-West Provinces, people never use _shidho_ rice
owing to its being boiled in an unhusked state.
The Hindoos of our day often consume sugar refined with the dust of
charcoal bones. The universal use of _shidho_ rice and sweetmeats which
contain refined sugar leads the Hindoos to break the rules of caste
almost every hour of their lives. Besides these two chief articles of
food, there are several other things made by Mussulmans, such as
rose-water, _kaywra árauk_, and the like, the general use of which is a
direct violation of the rules of caste. A Hindoo female, when she
becomes a widow at an advanced period of life, sometimes takes to
_átab_ rice because it is not produced from boiled paddy which makes it
impure, but from sun-dried paddy, and here the members of the Tagore
family are more strict in their _regime_ than any other class of Hindoos
in Bengal. There are, however, yet a few orthodox Hindoos, who, though
they eat _shidho_ rice, nevertheless abstain from using bazar-made
sweetmeats and Municipal pipe water because the engines of the latter
are said to be greased and worked by Mussulman and Christian hands. Such
men make their own sweetmeats at home with Benares sugar and drink
Ganges water, but the younger members of their family, if not without
their approval at least with their partial cognisance, daily make the
greatest inroads on this institution without having the moral courage to
avow their acts. They eat and drink in the European fashion, and
preserve their castes intact by a positive and emphatic disclaimer. So
much for the consistency of their character. When the orthodox heads of
Hindoo families are gathered unto their fathers, the key-note of the
present or rising generation will be--"perish caste with all its
monstrous evils."
FOOTNOTES:
[85] Rajah Kissen Chunder Roy, in the latter end of the 18th century,
used to restore persons and families who had forfeited their caste by
their laches by recovering from them a heavy fine for which there used
to be much higgling. This fine was in addition to the expenses
incidental to the ceremony of _Prayischittra_. Many heads of _Dalls_ or
parties of our day follow the same practice.
[86] The non-performance of religious rites does not now, however,
entail forfeiture of caste. Hindu society is getting lax in our days.
[87] I am inclined to believe that what the late Nuddea Raja did was his
individual act; as the head of the Hindus of Bengal, the Rajah of Nuddea
would strictly follow the practices of his great ancestor even to this
day.
[88] To one friend alone he gave two lacs of Rupees without any
security, showing a degree of magnanimity seldom to be met with among
the millionaires of the present day.
[89] The young members of a family have no hesitation in partaking of
food cooked by Mussulmans and forbidden in the Hindoo Shasters. On
holidays or on special occasions, they send orders to the "Great Eastern
Hotel," and get supplies of English delicacies such as they have a
liking for. It is a well-known fact that almost every rich family in
Calcutta and its suburbs (the orthodox members excepted) recognised as
the head of the Hindoo community, patronise the English Hotel-keepers.
Mr. D. Wilson, the famous purveyor in Government Place, seeing the great
rush of native gentlemen into his shop on a Christmas eve, was said to
have remarked that the Baboos were amongst his best customers. The great
purveyor was right, because the Baboos give large orders and pay
regularly for fear of exposure. Such of them as are placed in mediocre
circumstances arrange with their Mussulman syces and get fowl curry or
roast as often as they choose. There are indeed a few honorable
exceptions, who on principle do not encourage the English style of
eating and drinking. A very little reflection will convince any one that
the English mode of living is ill suited to the Natives. It not only
leads a man into extravagance, but what is more reprehensible, begets a
habit of drinking, which, I need hardly say, has been the ruin of many a
promising young Baboo.
[90] This gentleman was a Banian to several American and English firms,
which used to deal largely in cow and other hides. From religious
scruples he refused to accept the usual commission on such articles by
which he might have obtained at least forty thousand Rupees per annum.
In these days no Baboo declines to take the usual commission, but on the
contrary, many are engaged in the trade, which is a sacrilegious act in
the eye of the Hindoo Shaster.
XIV.
A BRAHMIN.
A Brahmin of the present iron age is quite a different ecclesiastic from
what he was in the past golden age. He is a metamorphosed being.
Believing in the doctrine of metempsychosis, he claims to have descended
from the mouth of the Supreme Brahmá, the Creator according to the
Hindoo triad. In the lapse of time, his physical organisation, his
traditional reputation as a saint and sage, his thorough devotion to his
religious duties, his mental abstraction, his logical acumen, the purity
of his character, his habitude and mode of living, have all undergone a
radical change, unequivocally indicating the gradual declension of
corporeal strength, of intellectual vigor, as well as of moral worth. In
former times he was popularly regarded as the visible embodiment of the
Creator, and the delegated exponent of all knowledge, revealed or
acquired. The old and venerable Munis and Rishis, and their
philosophical dissertations, their theological controversies and their
religious and ethical disquisitions, evoked the admiration of the world
in the dark ages before the Christian era. Almost all of them lived in a
state of asceticism, and devoted their lives to religious contemplation,
renouncing all the pleasures, passions and desires of the mundane world.
The longevity of their lives in their sequestered retreat, the perfect
purity of their manners, the simplicity of their habits, and their
elevated conception of the immutable attributes of God, inspired the
people with a profound reverence for their precepts and principles. The
prince and the peasant alike paid their homage to the sacerdotal class,
whose doctrines had, in the primitive state of society, the authority of
religion and law.
The power of the Brahmins penetrated every class of the people, and by
way of eminence they called themselves _Dvija_, _i. e._, the regenerated
or the twice born--a term which should only be applied to the really
inspired sons of God. Since the promulgation of the Institutes of Manu
they obtained that prominent rank among the Hindoos which they have
retained unimpaired amidst all dynastic changes. Keeping the key of all
knowledge in their exclusive custody, their functions were originally
confined to the performance of religious ceremonies and the promulgation
of laws. In all the affairs of the state or religion, the fiat of their
ordinances had all the weight of a sacred command. Even the order of a
mighty potentate was held in subordination to their injunctions. They
were enjoined to worship their guardian deity three times a day, and
were strictly prohibited from engaging in any secular occupation. They
practised all manner of austerities tending to beget a contempt for all
worldly enjoyments, and paved the way by religious meditation for
ultimate absorption into the divine essence,--an ideal of the sublimity
of which we can have no conception in the present degenerate age.
The complete monopoly of religious and legal knowledge which the
Brahmins enjoyed for a very considerable period after the first dawn of
learning in the East anterior to the Christian era, enabled them to put
forth their very great influence upon the spiritual and temporal
concerns of the three other orders of the Hindoo population, who
implicitly accorded to them all the valuable rights of a privileged
class, superior to all earthly power whatsoever. It has been expressly
declared in the Institutes of Manu that Hindoo Law was a direct
emanation from God. "That Immutable Power," says Manu, "having enacted
this Code of Laws, himself taught it fully to me in the beginning;
afterwards I taught Marichi and the nine other holy sages." It is
believed that in the tenth century, B. C. "the complete fusion of
Hindoo law and religion," was effected, and that both were administered
by the Brahmins, until some mighty kings arose in Rajpootana, who
curtailing their supreme influence reduced them to a secondary position.
Thenceforward their ascendency gradually began to decline, till at
length through succeeding generations it dwindled into comparative
insignificance.[91] In process of time, the four grand original classes
slowly multiplied, which is not to be wondered at in a great community
split into divisions and subdivisions, separated from each other by
different creeds, manners, customs and modes of life. These
ramifications necessarily involved diversities of religious, moral and
legal opinions and doctrines more or less fatal to the unquestioned
authority of the Brahmins, who seeing in the progress and revolution of
society the inevitable decay of their hitherto undisputed influence,
abandoned the traditional and prescribed path of religious life and
betook themselves to secular pursuit of gain for their subsistence. The
necessary consequence now is that in almost every sphere of life, in
every profession or calling, the Brahmins of the present day are
extensively engaged. And their cupidity is so great, that every
principle of law and morality is shamefully compromised in their
dealings with mankind. A Brahmin is no longer typical of either
religious purity or moral excellence. His profound erudition, his
logical subtlety in spinning into niceties the most commonplace
distinctions, his spirit of deep research and his illimitable power of
polemical discussion, have all forsaken him, and from an inspired priest
he has degenerated into a mercenary _purohit_. He no longer wears on his
forehead the frontlet of righteousness, his whole heart, his whole soul
is impregnated with corruption. In a fervent spirit, he no longer says
to his followers--"let us meditate on the adorable light of the Divine
Ruler; may it guide our intellects." His sacred _poita_ (Brahminical
thread) his divine _gayútree_ (prayer) his holy _basil_ (bead roll), his
three daily services with the sacred water of the Ganges, no longer
inspire the minds of his votaries with awe, obedience and homage. From
the worship of the only Living and True God he has descended to the
worship of 330 millions of gods and of goddesses. Human numeration reels
at the list. The individuality of the godhead is lost in the never
ending cycles of deified objects, animate and inanimate. We no longer
recognise in the Brahminical character and life an unsullied image of
godlike purity, holiness and sublimity. His ministrations no longer fill
us with joyful and exhilarating hopes which extend beyond the grave and
promise to lead us to the safe anchorage of everlasting bliss. They no
longer stir up in our breasts during each hour of life's waning lustre
"a sublimer faith, a brighter prospect, a kinder sympathy, a gentler
resignation." I ask every Hindoo to look into his heart honestly and
answer frankly whether a Brahmin of the present day is a true
embodiment, a glorious display, a veritable representative of Brahma,
the Creator. Has he not long since sacrificed his traditional pure faith
on the altar of selfishness and concupiscence and committed a deliberate
suicide of his moral and spiritual faculty? We blush to answer the
question in the affirmative.
I now purpose to give a short account of the ceremonies connected with
the investiture of the _poita_, the sacred thread of a Brahmin, on the
strength of which he assumes the highest ecclesiastical honors and
privileges. According to the Hindoo almanac, an auspicious day is fixed
for this important ceremonial, which opens a new chapter in the life of
a Brahmin especially intended to ensure him all the rare benefits of a
full-blown _Dwija_, or the twice-born. In celebrating the rite,
particular regard is had to the state of the weather; should any
atmospheric disturbance occur, the ceremony is postponed to the next
clear day. The age assigned for the investiture is between nine and
fifteen years. The occasion is accompanied in many cases by the
preparation of _ananunda naru_, a kind of sweetmeat made of powdered
rice, treacle, cocoanut and gingelly seeds rolled up into small round
balls and fried in mustard oil. This particular sort of Hindoo
confectionery, evidently a relic of primitive preparations, is
manufactured on all occasions indicative of domestic rejoicing, hence
the significance of the name given above. Before the appointed day, the
boy is enjoined to abstain from the use of fish and oil, and on the
morning of the ceremony, having been shaved, he is made to bathe, and
put on red clothes, and when the rite of investiture commences wears a
conical shaped tinsel hat, while the priest reads certain incantations
and worships Narayan or Vishnoo, represented by a small round stone
called _Saligram Sulu_, the ordinary household god of all Hindoos. A
piece of cloth is held over his head, that he may not see or be seen by
any of the non Brahminical caste. He then assumes the _dunda_, or the
staff of an ascetical mendicant, which is represented by the branch of a
_vilwa_ tree held in his right hand, at the top of which is tied a knot
with a bit of dyed cloth. An initiatory _poita_ made of twisted _khoosh_
grass, to which is fastened a piece of deer's skin, is next placed over
the boy's left shoulder during the repetition of the prescribed
incantations. The father then repeats to his son, in a low voice, lest a
Soodra should hear, the sacred _gayútree_ three times, which he tries
his best to commit to memory. The _khoosh_ grass _poita_ is here
removed, and a real thread _poita_ spun by Brahmin women[92] which he
is to wear ever afterwards, is substituted in its place. The boy now
puts on his shoes and holds an umbrella in his hand while the priest
reads and the father repeats the usual incantations, tending to awaken
in the boy a sense of the grave responsibility he assumes. Thus dressed
as a _Brahmacharee_ (a religious mendicant), with a staff upon his
shoulder and a beggar's wallet hanging by his side, he goes to his
mother, father and other relatives and begs alms, repeating at the same
time a certain word in Sanskrit. They give him each a small quantity of
rice, a few _poitas_ and a few Rupees, amounting in some cases to two or
three hundred. The boy then squats down while the father offers a burnt
sacrifice and repeats the customary incantations. After the performance
of these ceremonies, the boy in his _Brahmacharee_ attire suddenly rises
up in a fit of pretended ecstacy and declares before the company that he
is determined in future to lead the life of a religious mendicant. The
announcement of this resolution instantly evokes the sympathy of the
father, mother and other relatives, and they all persuade him to change
his mind and adopt a secular life, citing instances that that life is
favourable to the cultivation and growth of domestic and social
affections as well as religious principles of the highest order. The
holy Shastra expressly inculcates that a clean heart and a righteous
spirit make men happy even amid the sorrows of earth, and that the
sackcloth of mendicancy is not essential to righteousness if we
earnestly and sincerely ask God to give us His true riches. Thus
admonished, he with apparent reluctance abandons his pre-concerted
design, which is a mere sham, and assumes the _rôle_ of secularism.
Certain formulas are now repeated, after which the boy leaves his
_vilwa_ staff, and takes in hand a thin Bamboo staff, which he throws
over his shoulder. Other ritualistic rites are then performed, at the
close of which the priest receives his fee for the trouble and departs
home with the offerings. The boy next walks into a room, a woman pouring
out water as he goes. He is then taught to commit to memory his daily
service, called _sundhya_, after the repetition of which he eats the
_charú_ made of milk, sugar and rice boiled together.
For three days after being investited with the _poita_ the boy is
enjoined to sleep either on a carpet or a deer's skin, without a
mattress or a musquito curtain. His food consists of boiled rice, ghee,
milk and sugar, etc., only once a day, without oil and salt. He is
strictly prohibited to see the sun or the face of a soodra, and is
constantly employed in learning the sacred _gayútree_ and the forms of
the daily service which should be repeated thrice in a day. On the
morning of the fourth day, he goes to the sacred stream of the Ganges,
throws the two staves into the water, bathes, repeats his prayers,
returns home, and again enters on the performance of his ordinary
secular duties. During the day, a few Brahmins are fed according to the
circumstances of the family. Thus the ceremony of investiture is closed,
and the boy being purified and regenerated is elevated to the rank of a
_Dwija_ or twice born. How easily does the Brahminical Shastra make a
change for the better in a religious sense in a youth quite incapable of
forming adequate conceptions of a spiritual regeneration by the mere
administration of a single rite!
Having endeavoured to give thus a short account of the ceremonies
connected with the investiture of the sacred thread of a Brahmin, it
remains to be seen how far his present position, character and conduct
harmonise with the reputed sanctity of his regenerated nature. Great
blame is laid at the door of the British Government, because it does not
accord that high respect to the sacerdotal class which their own Rajahs
had shewn them in the halcyon days of Hindooism. Before the advent of
the British to India, the doctrines of the Brahminical creed, as
indicated above, were in full force. Every Hindoo king used to enforce
on all classes of the people high or low, a strict observance of the
idolatrous ceremonies prescribed in the Hindoo Shastra. In the dark ages
scarcely any nation in the world was hemmed in by such a close ring of
religious ceremonials as the people of this country. Almost every
commonplace occurrence had its peculiar rites which required the
interposition of the sacerdotal class. On occasions of prosperity or
adversity, of rejoicing or calamity, their ministration was alike
needed. These formed their ordinary sources of gain, but the greatest
means of support consisted in the grants of lands, including sometimes
houses, tanks, gardens, etc., given in perpetuity to gods or the
priests. These grants are called, as I have already stated, the
_Debatras_ and _Brahmatras_. Among others, the Rajahs of Burdwan,
Kishnaghur, and Tipperah made the greatest gifts, and their names are
still remembered with gratitude by many a Brahmin in Bengal. But the Law
authorizing the resumption of rent-free tenures has, as must naturally
be expected, made the English Government obnoxious, and it is denounced
in no measured terms for the sacrilegious act. If Manu were to visit
Bengal now, his indignation and amazement would know no bounds in
witnessing the sacerdotal class reduced to the humiliating position of a
servile, cringing and mercenary crowd of men. Their original prestige
has suffered a total shipwreck. Generally speaking, a Brahmin of the
present day is practically a Soodra (the most inferior class) of the
past age, irretrievably sunk in honor and dignity. Indeed it was one of
the curses of the Vedic period that to be a Brahmin of the present _Kali
yagu_ would be an impersonation of corruption, baseness and venality.
There is a common saying amongst the Natives that a Brahmin is a beggar
even if he were possessed of a lakh of Rupees (£10,000.) It is a
lamentable fact that impecuniosity is the common lot of the class. In
ordinary conversation, when the question of the comparative fortunes of
the different classes is introduced, a Brahmin is often heard to lament
his most impecunious lot. The gains of the sacerdotal class of the
present day have been reduced to the lowest scale imaginable. If an
officiating priest can make ten Rupees a month, he considers himself
very well off. He can no longer plume himself on his religious purity
and mental superiority, once so pre-eminently characteristic of the
order. The spread of English education has sounded the death-knell of
his spiritual ascendancy. In short, his fate is doomed; he must bear or
must forbear, as seems to him best. The tide of improvement will
continue to roll on uninterruptedly, in spite of every "freezing and
blighting influence," and we heartily rejoice to discover already that
the "tender blade is grown into the green ear, and from the green ear to
the rich and ripened corn."
When, a few years ago, Sir Richard Temple carefully examined the
Criminal Statistics of Bengal, he was most deeply concerned to find that
the proportion of the Brahmin criminals in the jails of the Province far
outnumbered that of any other caste. This is an astounding fact, bearing
the most unimpeachable testimony to the very lamentable deterioration of
the Hindoo ecclesiastical class in our days. To expatiate on the subject
would be unpalatable. But we believe we can point with a degree of
pardonable pride to a past period when nine men of literary genius,
among whom the renowned Kalidas, the Indian Shakespeare, was the most
brilliant, flourished in the Court of Vikramaditya in Ougein; but
dynastic changes were simultaneously accompanied by the rapid decline of
learning as well as of religious purity.
The English rule, though most fiercely denounced by selfish,
narrow-minded men, has nevertheless been productive of the most
beneficial results even as far as the sacerdotal class is concerned.
Every encouragement is now-a-days afforded to the cultivation of the
classical language of India--Sanskrit--and not only are suitable
employments provided for the most learned Pundits[93] in all the
Government, Missionary and private educational Institutions throughout
the country, but the University degrees conferred on the most successful
students, tend to stimulate them to further laudable exertions in the
study of the sacred language, which, but for this renewed attempt at
cultivation and improvement, would have been very much neglected.
Independently of the above consideration, it is no less gratifying than
certain that the progress of education has produced men, sprung from the
sacerdotal class, whose eminent scholarly attainments, high moral
principles and unblemished character, as well as a practical useful
career, have raised them to the foremost ranks of Hindoo society.
Rammohun Roy, Dr. K. M. Banerjea, Pundit Isser Chunder Vidyasager, Baboo
Bhoodeb Mookerjee, and others of equal mental calibre, are names
deservedly enshrined in the grateful memory of their countrymen. If
Western knowledge had not been introduced into India, men of such high
culture and moral excellence would have passed away unnoticed and
unrecognised in the republic of letters, and the fruits of their
literary labors, instead of being regarded as a valuable contribution to
our stock of knowledge, would have been buried in obscurity. To study
the lives of such distinguished pioneers of Hindoo enlightenment, "is to
stir up our breasts to an exhilarating pursuit of high and ever-growing
attainments in intellect and virtue."
FOOTNOTES:
[91] As the natural consequence of this declension of supremacy,
Brahminical learning, from this and other analogous circumstances, slept
a winter sleep, occasionally disturbed and broken by brilliant
coruscations of light thrown upon it by Western researches,
contemporaneously sustained by the faint efforts of learned Pundits.
[92] To so miserable a strait are some of them reduced that they
actually strive to get a living by making these sacred thread poitas and
strings for loins, indicating the pinching poverty and repulsive squalor
in which they pine away their wretched existence. Indeed not a few of
these widows are left "to the cold pity and grudging charity of a frosty
world." They might almost sing and sigh with the poet as he sat in deep
dejection on the shore.
"Alas! I have nor hope, nor health, Nor peace within, nor calm around;
Nor that content, surpassing wealth, The sage in contemplation found;
* * * * *
Others I see whom these surround, Smiling they live, and call life
pleasure; To me that cup hath been dealt in another measure."
[93] However learned a Pundit might be in philology, philosophy, logic
and theology, he is lamentably deficient in scientific knowledge,
notably in geography and ethnology. With a view to test the knowledge of
his Pundit on those two subjects, Bishop Middleton was said to have once
asked him two very simple questions, (1) whence are the English come?
(2) what is their origin? The reply of the Pundit was somewhat to the
following effect: The English are come somewhere from Lunka or Ceylon
(the imaginary land of cannibals), and they are of mixed origin, sprung
from monkey and cannibal, because they jabber like monkeys, and sit like
them on chairs with their legs hanging down,--an attitude peculiar to
the monkey species,--and they eat like cannibals half-boiled beef, pork,
mutton, &c. Childish as the reply was, the pious Bishop, however, with
his wonted benignity, smiled and corrected his error.
XV.
THE BENGALEE BABOO.
This is an euphonious oriental title, suggestive of some amiable
qualities which are eminently calculated to adorn and elevate human
life. A Bengalee Baboo of the present age, however, is a curious product
composed of very heterogeneous elements. The importation of Western
knowledge has imbued him with new fangled ideas, and shallow draughts
have made him conceited and supercilious, disdaining almost everything
Indian, and affecting a love of European æsthetics. The humourous
performance of Dave Carson, and the caustic remarks of Sir Ali Baba,
give graphic representations of his anglicised taste, habits and
bearing. Any thing affected or imitated is apt to nauseate when
contrasted with the genuine and natural.
The anglicised Baboos are certainly well-meaning men, instinctively
disposed to move within the groove traditionally prescribed for them,
but the scintillation of European ideas and a servile imitation of
Western manners have played sad havoc with their original tendencies.
Ambitious of being considered enlightened and elevated above the common
herd, their improved taste and inclination almost unconsciously relegate
them to the enchanted dream-land of European refinement, amidst the
ridicule of the wise and the discerning. Society now-a-days is a
quick-shifting panorama. Old scenes and associations rapidly pass away
to make room for new ones, and prescriptive usages fall into oblivion. A
new order of things springs up, and new actors replace the old ones. The
influence of the aged is diminished, and the young and impulsive seize
with avidity the prizes of life, forgetting in their wild precipitancy
the unerring dictates of cool deliberation. "The hurried, bustling,
tumultuous, feverish Present swallows up men's thoughts," and the
momentous interests of society looming in the Future are almost entirely
disregarded. The result necessarily carries them wide of the great
object of human life. They forfeit the regard and sympathy of their
fellow countrymen whose moral and intellectual advancement they should
gradually strive to promote by winning their love and confidence.
As a man of fashion he cuts a burlesque figure by adopting partly
Mussulman and partly European dress, and imitating the European style of
living, as if modern civilization could be brought about by wearing
tight pantaloons, tight shirts and black coats of alpaca or broadcloth.
He culminates in a coquettish embossed cap or thin-folded shawl turban,
with perhaps a shawl neckcloth in winter. He eats mutton chops and fowl
curry, drinks Brandy panee or Old Tom, and smokes Manilla or Burmah
cigars _a la Francaise_. Certainly the use of those eatables and
drinkables is proscribed in the Hindoo Shastra, and an honest avowal of
it will sooner or later expose him to public derision, and estrange him
from the hearts of the orthodox Hindoos. A wise European, who has the
real welfare of the people at heart, will never encourage such an
objectionable line of conduct, because it is _per se_ calculated to
denationalise. To be more explicit, even at the risk of verbosity, it
should be mentioned that Baboos resident in Calcutta not unjustly pride
themselves on being the denizens of the great Metropolis of British
India, which is unquestionably the focus of enlightenment, the centre of
civilization and refinement, and the emporium of fashion in the East.
People in the country glory and console themselves with the idea that in
their adoption of social manners and customs they follow the example of
the big Baboos of Calcutta. Although the fashions of Hindoo society in
Calcutta do not change with the rapidity they do in Paris and London,
monthly, fortnightly and weekly, yet they vary, perhaps, once in two or
three years, and even then the change is partial and not radical. Slowly
and gradually, the Hindoos of Bengal have abandoned their original and
primitive dress, which consisted of thin slender garments, suited to the
warm temperature of the climate at least for the greater part of the
year, and adopted that of their conquerors. A simple _dhootee_ and
_dubjah_, with perhaps an _álkhálá_ on the back and a folded _pugree_ on
the head, constituted the dress of a Bengali not long before the battle
of Plassey. The court dress was, indeed, somewhat different, but then it
was a servile imitation of that of a Rajpoot chief or a Mussulman king.
When Rajahs Rajbullub, and Nubkissen, and Suddur-ud-din, a Mohamedan,
attended the Government House in the time of Clive and Hastings, what
was their court costume but an exact copy of the Mussulman dress? Even
now, after the lapse of a century and a half, they use their primitive
dress at home, _viz._, a _dhootee_ and an _uraney_. An Englishman would
not easily recognise or identify a Bengalee at home and a Bengalee in
his office dress, the difference being striking and marked. But the
establishment of the British rule in India has introduced a very great
change in the national costume and taste, irrespective of the
intellectual revolution, which is still greater. Twenty years ago the
gala dress of a Bengalee boy consisted of a simple Dacca _dhootee_ and a
Dacca _ecloye_, with a pair of tinsel-worked shoes; but now rich
English, German and China satin, brocade and velvet with embossed
flowers, and gold and silver fringes and outskirts, have come into
fashion and general use. It is a common sight to see a boy dressed in a
pantaloon and coat made of the above costly stuffs, with a laced velvet
cap, driving about the streets of Calcutta during the festive days. Of
course the more genteel and modest of the class, _sobered down_ by age
and experience, do not share in the juvenile taste for the gaudy and
showy. As becomes their maturer years, they are satisfied with a decent
broadcloth coat and pantaloon, with a white cloth or Cashmere shawl
_pugree_, more in accordance with simple English taste. But both the
young and the old must have patent Japan leather shoes from Cuthbertson
and Harper, Monteith & Co., or the Bentinck Street Chinese shoemakers,
the laced Mussulman shoes having gone entirely out of fashion. Nor is
the taste of the Hindoo females in a primitive stage as far as
costliness is concerned. Instead of Dacca _Taercha_ or _Bale Boo[t.]a_
Sari, they must have either Benares gold embroidered or French embossed
gossamer _Sari_, with gold lace borders and ends. It would not be out of
place to notice here that it would be a very desirable improvement in
the way of decency to introduce among the Hindoo females of Bengal a
stouter fabric for their garment in place of the present thin, flimsy,
loose _sari_, without any other covering over it. In this respect, their
sisters of the North-Western and Central Provinces, as well as those of
the South, are decidedly more decent and respectable. A few respectable
Hindoo ladies have of late years begun to put an _unghia_ or corset over
their bodies, but still the under vestment is shamefully indelicate. Why
do not the Baboos of Bengal strive to introduce a salutary change in the
dress of their mothers, wives, sisters and daughters, which private
decency and public morality most urgently demand? These social reforms
must go hand in hand with religious, moral and intellectual improvement.
The one is as essential to the elevation and dignity of female character
as the other is to the advancement of the nation in the scale of
civilization.
The Lancashire and German weavers have ample cause to rejoice that their
manufactured colored woollen fabrics have greatly superseded the Indian
_Pashmina_ goods--Cashmere shawls not excepted,--and European Cashmere,
broadcloth, flannel, hosiery and haberdashery are now in great request.
From the wealthiest Baboo to the commonest fruit seller, half hose or
full stockings are very commonly used. This forms an essential part of
the official gear of a _keranee_ (writer) of the present day, though he
is now seen without his national _pugree_ or head dress.
A Bengalee Baboo is said to be a money-making man. By the most ingenious
makeshifts he contrives to earn enough to enable him to make both ends
meet, and lay by something for the evening of his life. He is generally
a thrifty character, and does not much mind how the world goes when his
own income is positive. He lacks enterprise, and is therefore most
reluctant to engage in any haphazard commercial venture, though he has
very laudable patterns amongst his own countrymen, who, by dint of
energy, prudence, perseverance and probity, have risen from an obscure
position in life to the foremost rank of successful Native merchants. He
is destitute of pluck, and the risk of a commercial venture stares him
in the face in all his highways and byways. In many cases he has
inherited a colossal fortune, but that does not stir up in his breast an
enterprising spirit. He seeks and courts service, and in nine cases out
of ten succeeds. The sweets of service, and the prospect of promotion
and pension, slowly steal into his soul, and he gladly bends his neck
under the yoke of servitude. It is a lamentable fact that he is a
stranger to that "proud submission of the heart which keeps alive in
servitude itself the spirit of an exalted freedom." As a vanquished
race, subordination is the inevitable lot of the Natives, but it is
edifying to see how they hug its trammels with perfect complacency.
The English Government is to the people of Bengal a special boon, a
god-send. Almost every respectable family of Bengalee Baboos, past or
present, is more or less indebted to it for its status and distinction,
position and influence, affluence and prosperity. The records of
authentic history clearly demonstrate the fact that the Baboos of Bengal
have been more benefited by their British rulers than ever they were
under their own dynasty. Instances are not wanting to corroborate the
fact. The love of money is natural in man, and few men are more
powerfully and, in many cases, more dangerously influenced by it than
the people of this country. "It is a thirst which is inflamed by the
very copiousness of its draughts." Possession or accumulation does not
sufficiently satisfy it.
Experience and observation amply attest the truth of the following
current saying among the Hindoos of the Upper Provinces, _viz._,
"_Kamayta topeewallah_, _lotetah dhoteewallah_," the meaning of which
is, the English earn, the Bengalees plunder. To be more explicit, the
English continue to extend their conquests, the Bengalee Baboos
participate in the loaves and fishes of the Public Service. In a
dejected spirit of mind, a Hindoosthanee is often heard to mourn; he
addresses a Sahib in the most respectful manner imaginable, by using
such flattering terms as "_Khodabund_, _garibparbar_," but in nine cases
out of ten the Sahib scornfully turns away his head; when, on the
contrary, a Bengalee _gir gir karkay dho ba[t.]h sanay diya_, _i. e._,
jabbers to him a few words, he patiently listens to him, and signifies
his acquiescence in what he says by a nod. In his boorish simplicity,
the Hindoosthanee concludes that the Bengalee Baboos are well versed in
charms, or else how do they manage to tame a grim biped like a Sahib.
With a view to remove this erroneous impression, which until recently
was so very common among the inhabitants of the Upper Provinces, and the
existence of which is so prejudicial to the general encouragement of
education throughout India, as well as to the impartial character and
high dignity of the paramount power, the local Governments have been
directed in future to select for public service all the educated Natives
born and bred up under their respective Administrations in preference to
the Bengalees. Thus the aspiration of a Bengalee Baboo, so far as Public
Service is concerned, is now restricted within the limits of his own
Province.
A Bengalee Baboo is an eager hunter after academic honors. The
University confers on him the high degrees of B. A., M. A. and B. L.,
and he distinguishes himself as a speaking member of the British Indian
Association or of the Calcutta Municipality. He also reads valedictory
addresses to retiring Governors and other Government Magnificoes. He is
created a Maharajah, a Rajah, a Rai Bahadoor, with perhaps the
additional paraphernalia of C. S. I. or C. I. E. As a ripe man of vivid
ambition and lofty aspiration, he necessarily hankers after and is all
a-gog to dash through thick and thin for these new honors and
decorations. He drives swiftly about in his barouche with his staff
holder on the coach-box in broadcloth livery. Unfortunately no baronetcy
blazons forth in Bengalee heraldry, like that bestowed on Sir Jamsetjee
Jeejeebhoy. The cause is obvious. No millionaire Bengalee has to this
day contributed so munificently to public charities as the Parsee
baronet.
When that distinguished Hindoo reformer, Baboo Dwarkanath Tagore,--the
most staunch coadjutor of Rajah Rammohun Roy,--visited England, it was
reported that Her Majesty had most graciously offered to confer on him
the title of a Rajah; and his liberality and public spirit fully
entitled him to that high distinction, but he politely refused it on the
ground that his position did not justify his accepting it. He felt that
the shadow of a name without substance was but a mockery. When Rajah
Radhakant Deb was elected President of the British Indian Association
"he used to declare that he was more proud of that office than of his
title of Rajah Bahadoor, inasmuch as it indicated the chiefship of a
body which was a power in the State and was destined to achieve immense
good for the country." At the time of the Prince of Wales' visit to
Calcutta, it was said that a certain English-made Rajah was introduced
by a Government Magnifico to the Maharajah of Cashmere; among other
matters, the Cashmere Rajah out of curiosity asked the Bengal Rajah,
"where was his Raj and what was the strength of his army?" The question
at once puzzled him, and his answer was anything but satisfactory. Of
all the Indian Viceroys, Lord Lytton was certainly the most liberal in
bestowing these hollow titles on the Baboos of Bengal, under a mistaken
notion of winning the love and confidence, which ought to constitute the
solid basis of a good Government. A Rajahship,[94] without the necessary
equipage and material and moral grandeur of royalty is but a gilt
ornament that dazzles at first sight but possesses little intrinsic
value. It is in fact a misnomer, a sham, a counterfeit. The love of
honor or power constitutes one of the main principles of human nature. A
Rajah, in the true sense of the word, is one who shares in the royalty
of divine attributes. He should remember that a man is bound to look to
something more than his mere wardrobe and title; he must possess a
goodness and a greatness which would benefit thousands and tens of
thousands of his fellow-creatures by the exercise of real,
disinterested virtue. Such a career alone can leave an imperishable and
ennobling name behind, which will go down to posterity as a pattern of
moral grandeur.[95] Politically considered these titles and decorations
have their value, inasmuch as they have a tendency to promote the
_entente cordiale_ between the rulers and the ruled, and, next to the
Public Debt, furnish, in an indirect way, an additional buttress to the
stability of the British Indian empire.
In former times, when the English rule was in its inceptive stage, when
external pageant--the outcome of vanity--was not much thought of, when
the simple taste of the people was not tainted by luxury and corruption,
an unnatural craving for titles exerted but a very feeble influence on
the minds of the great. Instead of seeking "the bubble reputation" they
vied with each other in the extent of their religious gifts and
endowments, affording substantial aid to the learned of the land and to
the poorer classes of the community. A spirit of disinterestedness and
self-sacrifice never at variance with magnanimity was conspicuous in all
their gifts. The immense extent of _Debatra_ and _Brahmatra_ land, _i.
e._, rent-free tenures throughout Bengal, even after the relentless
operation of the Resumption Act, still bears testimony to their
disinterested benevolence and the heartiness with which they entered
into other men's interests. Of course they were incapable of
comprehending the innumerable affinities and relations of life in all
its varied phases, rising from the finite and transient to the infinite
and the enduring, but whatever they gave, they gave not with a stinted
hand nor in an ostentatious way, but with a truly benevolent and
disinterested heart, looking to the Most High for their guerdon. The
sublime and elevated conception of organised charity never penetrated
their minds. Religious gifts and endowments formed the great bulk of
their contributions, but they also made permanent provision for the
relief of the helpless and the destitute,[96] not on the recognised
principles of English charity, _i. e._ the Hospital system, the Nurses'
Institutions, Reformatories for unfortunates, parish relief, funds for
the aged and infirm, provision of improved dwellings as well as for
baths and wash-houses for the working-classes inaugurated by the
magnificent gift by Mr. G. Peabody of £250,000, ragged schools and
asylums for the deaf, dumb and blind, supported by voluntary
contributions, and other organised methods for the relief of distress
and destitution throughout the country. It is a sad reflection on the
benevolent disposition of the Natives that they cannot boast of anything
bearing a remote analogy to the above recognised forms of Charity. In
India there is much individual charity of an impulsive and interested
character, but the great element of success in English charity is
combination and organisation, without which no work of public utility
can be practically carried out.
It is obvious that the peculiar social economy of the Natives presents
an almost insuperable barrier to the harmonious amalgamation of the
different classes artificially split into numerous subdivisions. In the
neighbourhood of Poona, Mr. Elphinstone says, there are about 150
different castes, and in Bengal they are very numerous. They maintain
their divisions, however obscurely derived, with great strictness.[97]
The religious, social and moral duties of these classes, exhibit marked
differences, which are opposed to the combination of united efforts in
the cause of relieving suffering humanity. The idea of a national
brotherhood and a system of universal philanthropy, such as Christianity
has nobly inaugurated, is much too elevated for the narrow, contracted
minds of the people. Independent of the numerous subdivisions of caste,
unhappily there still exists an impassable gulf between the Hindoos and
Mussulmans--at present the children of the same soil--which has hitherto
kept up a state of unhallowed separatism, essentially at variance with a
cordial coalition for the consummation of any comprehensive system of
Public Charity designed to benefit both. Age has rooted in the minds of
the two communities an implacable mutual hate, quite subversive of the
best interests of humanity. Plausible arguments may be adduced in
support of the existence of this race antagonism, but let both of them
be assured that "by abusing this world they shall not earn a better."
Let every act or feeling or motive of both races be merged in one
harmonious whole, developing the perfection of human nature in a
distinct and bright reality.
A Bengalee Baboo is fond of discussing European politics. The reading of
history has given him a superficial insight into the rise and progress
of nations. He does not deny that he amplifies and emphasises the
sentiments he has learnt in the school of English politics. The orations
of Lall Mohun Ghose in England have proved that a native of India has
mastered the art of thinking on his legs, which is the beginning and end
of oratory. A few more men like him, steadily working in earnest at the
fountain head of power, would certainly awaken public attention towards
the present condition of our country. It was Lord William Bentinck who
advised a body of Native Memorialists, anxious for the political
emancipation of their country, "to continue to agitate until they gained
their end." Constitutional representation to proper authority, his
Lordship remarked, would as much command public attention as idle,
factious declamation divert it.[98] He was emphatically the "People's
William" in India, as Gladstone is the "People's William" in England. He
was a statesman who directed his whole attention and energy to internal
improvement, repudiating all schemes of aggression or conquest. His
beneficence, immortalised in a noble monument--the Calcutta Medical
College,--will be more gratefully acknowledged by the latest generation
than the genius of a Hastings, a Wellesley, or a Dalhousie.
The complete emancipation of India, however, is a question of time.
Baboo Lall Mohun Ghose's speeches in England have not been entirely
fruitless, inasmuch as they have evoked and enlisted the sympathy of a
few leaders of public opinion. He is manfully struggling to remove the
bar of political disabilities, and to secure for his countrymen the
benefit of representative institutions, for the recognition and
appreciation of which they are now prepared. While they hope for the
best, they must be prepared for the worst. They must learn meanwhile to
cherish, as among the essential elements of ultimate success, a firm,
manly, independent and self-denying spirit.
A Bengalee Baboo is often voted a man of tall talk. Platitude is his
forte. This is surely true to a certain extent; and until he descends
from the elevated region of speculation to the matter of fact arena of
practice, both his writings and harangues must necessarily prove
abortive. He must learn to exchange his verbosity for action in the
great battle of life. Every great politician or statesman must have a
thorough practical training to enable him to overcome the opposition of
different factions whose interests are jeopardised by his success, and
to render his administration a blessing to the people. He must be
prepared to grow and advance under adverse influences. The history of
that consummate statesman, Sir Salar Jung, of that distinguished scholar
and councillor, Sir T. Madeo Rao, of that astute minister, Maharajah Sir
Dinkur Rao, furnishes the most convincing examples of superior
administrative ability combined with practical wisdom. Lord Northbrook,
in a recent speech at Birmingham, has made honorable mention of these
three eminent statesmen, whose valuable services in their respective
spheres have long since established their substantial claims to the the
gratitude of their fellow countrymen. When Sir Salar Jung visited
Europe, his very comprehensive and enlightened views elicited the
admiration of several of the wisest statesmen of the age. His able and
successful administration at Hyderabad, amidst the fierce opposition of
factious parties, affords an admirable illustration of his superior
practical wisdom. When, some thirty years ago, Maharajah Sir Dinkur Rao
visited Calcutta, he was the wonder of all who heard him enunciate, in a
telling speech at the Town Hall, his high, noble and practical views on
civil Government. The speech was not made feverish by visions of
indistinct good, as Mr. Theodore Dickens said, but it was a clear
exposition of the liberal sentiments of a wise statesman.
The Bengalees are not a warlike race. Their traditional habits and
usages, their physique, their diet and dress, their natural tendency to
slothfulness and effeminacy, their proverbial quietude, their general
want of pluck and manly spirit, their ascetic composure, placing the
chief joys of life in rest and competency,--an heirloom descended from
their ancestors,--all indicate an unwarlike temperament. During the
Mutiny of 1875,--an event which in atrocious acts of cruelty
incomparably surpasses all other historical events ever recorded,--that
kind hearted Governor General, Lord Canning, was advised to introduce
Martial Law into Calcutta, but he negatived the proposal by emphatically
declaring in the Council Chamber that the Bengalees are a mild, tame,
inoffensive and loyal race of people, whose only weapon of defence is a
simple penknife. A common Police constable with his baton is to them a
grim master of authority. A red-coated Highlander is formidable enough
to cope with and drive away an immense crowd of Bengalees even in the
very heart of the City of Palaces, while in the villages all shops and
houses are closed at the very sight of an European soldier in his
uniform. In fact, Bengal can well be governed by a handful of Native
Police constables, especially when the Arms' Act is in full force.
Unlike the military races of Upper India, or the border tribes, the
Bengalees will never, even under the influence of the most aggravated
wrongs and injuries, retaliate or resort to such a desperate court of
appeal as war and murder.
English is the adopted language of a Bengalee Baboo. It is an
instructive study to take a cursory view of the rapid progress of
English education throughout India from the day when David Hare had held
out pecuniary inducements to Hindoo youths to attend his school, and Dr.
Duff called in the aid of Rammohun Roy to found the infant General
Assembly's Institution, now developed into the largest College in India.
Fifty years ago, who dreamt or even hazarded a prediction that a Native
lad of sixteen or seventeen years of age would venture to traverse the
perilous ocean and compete for the Civil Service Examination in England,
paying no heed whatever to the manifold disadvantages arising from
social persecution, and the disruption of domestic relations of the
tenderest nature. When Bacon said that knowledge is power, he certainly
did not mean physical but intellectual power. It is the irresistible
influence of this power that has inspirited an Indian youth to appear at
the English "open competition" for the purpose of winning academic spurs
and entering a closely fenced service; it is the quickening influence of
this power, combined with an enterprising spirit, that has gradually
enabled a mere handful of English adventurers to convert a small factory
into one of the vastest empires in the East. The gigantic strides that
English education has made in India within a short time, have been the
wonder of the age, the foundation rock of her ultimate emancipation,
socially, morally and intellectually. The prison wall round the mind
which ages had reared and learning fortified has been completely
demolished, and not only men but matronly zenana females have picked up
a few crumbs of broken English words which they occasionally use in
familiar conversation, for instance, Rail, Talygraf, Guvner, Juj
Majister, High Cote, etc.
Some of the Bengalee Baboos read and write English with remarkable
fluency, and the epistolary correspondence of most of them is commonly
carried on in that language. When two or more educated Baboos meet
together, or take their constitutional in the morning, they perhaps talk
of some reading articles in the Anglo-Indian or English journals or
periodicals, and eagerly communicate to each other "the flotsam and
jetsam of advanced European thoughts, the ripest outcome in the
Nineteenth century, or the aftermath in the Fortnightly," as if the
vernacular dialect were not at all fitted for the communication of their
ideas. It is a pity that the cultivation and improvement of a national
literature--the embodiment of national thought and taste and the
mainspring of national enlightenment--seldom or never engages their
serious attention. But it is a great mistake to suppose that the large
mass of the Indian population can be thoroughly instructed and reformed
through the medium of a foreign language. The richness and copiousness
of modern English, combining as it does conciseness with solidity and
perspicuity, are admittedly very great; it is admirably adapted for the
educated _few_, but it is not equally suited to the capacity and
comprehension of the _many_. It is incumbent, therefore, on all well
disposed Hindoos, who have the real welfare of their country at heart,
to endeavour to fertilise their national literature by transplanting
into it the advanced thoughts of modern Europe, and to enrich it with
copiousness, such as would obviate its acknowledged deficiency and
barrenness. Until this is done, it is as unreasonable to expect elegance
and perfection in the national literature as it is to expect harvest in
seed-time or the full vigor of manhood in the incipient state of
childhood.
Assuredly the Bengalees are a race of _keranees_ or writers, as Napoleon
said the English were a nation of shopkeepers. Every morning and
evening, almost all the main streets of Calcutta leading to the English
quarter--bright prospect for the Tramway--are literally thronged with
dense crowds of keranees in their white cloth uniform, busily making for
their respective offices, either in shabby looking third class hackney
carriages or on foot. A foreigner not used to such sights cannot fail
almost unconsciously to come to a conclusion that the Bengalees are a
nation of keranees. Every Government, Railway or Merchant's office, is
filled with these Baboos, either actually employed or serving on
probation, biding their time in fond expectation of picking up a slice
of official bread, buttered or unbuttered. Even graduates of the
Calcutta University do not hesitate to serve as apprentices, because a
collegiate course does not teach the rules of bureaucracy or official
routine. Most of them are good copyists or clever accountants, while a
few are correspondence clerks. As a rule, their pay is very small
compared with what is given to English Clerks, for reasons which I need
not dilate upon here.
Within the range of our experience, extending over fifty years, we
remember only one Native gentleman--Baboo Shama Churn Dey, the present
vice-chairman of the Calcutta Municipality--who, by his tried ability,
intelligence and integrity has managed to climb to the top of
keraneedom. In recognition of his high efficiency his salary has been
raised to one thousand Rupees a month, in spite of many instances of
supersession. I, in common with others, am fully persuaded that had he
been a British-born Civilian, he would undoubtedly have drawn a much
larger salary. But it is useless to repine at a misfortune which is
inevitable.
Even the amusements of a Bengalee Baboo are more or less anglicised.
Instead of the traditional _Jattras_, (representations) and _Cobees_
(popular ballads) he has gradually imbibed a taste for theatrical
performances, and native musical instruments are superseded by European
flutes, concertinas and harmoniums, organs and piano-fortes. This is
certainly a decided improvement on the old antiquated system,
demonstrating the slow growth of a refined taste. Thus we see in almost
every phase of life, at home or outside, the Bengalee Baboo is
Europeanized. In his style of living, in his mode of dress, in his
writings, in his public and private utterances, in his household
arrangements and furniture, in his bearing and department, in his social
intercourse, in his mental accomplishments, and in fact, in his
passionate partiality for Western æsthetics, he is a modified
Anglo-Indian. But it were devoutly to be wished that he possessed a
larger admixture of the essential elements of European truthfulness of
character, energy and manliness of spirit, straightforwardness in his
dealings with society, nobility of sentiment, magnanimity combined with
simplicity, disinterested love and sympathy, and above all, moral and
spiritual elevation.
FOOTNOTES:
[94] It is a disreputable fact, but it most assuredly _is_ a fact, that
when some years ago a teacher of the Government School of Art published
a book in Bengallee on the ancient arts and manufactures of Hindoosthan,
and sent a copy of it to one of these English-made Rajahs, he politely
refused to take it--the price being one Rupee only--saying it was of no
use to him though it was an instructive and suggestive manual. This
refusal offers a sad comment on the liberality of my fellow countrymen
towards the encouragement of learning. But turning from the dark to the
bright side of the picture, I may perhaps be permitted to point with
pardonable pride to the almost unparalleled munificence of the late
Baboo Kally Prosono Singh of this City, in this respect. That
distinguished patron of vernacular literature had, it is said, spent
upwards of £50,000 on the compilation of Mohabharat, that grand Epic
poem of the Hindoos, which says Talboys Wheeler, still continues to
exercise an influence on the masses of the people "infinitely greater
and more universal than the influence of the Bible upon modern Europe."
[95] Of all the English-made Rajahs of the present day, it is pleasing
to recognise, in Moharajah Rajender Mullick of this City, some of the
noble attributes of a Rajah. Modest and unassuming, he manifests to a
great degree a generous disposition to relieve suffering humanity and to
do good by stealth. Never did he struggle to thrust himself, by the
nature of his work, upon public notice. Gifted with an intelligent mind,
a refined taste, and considerable artistic ability, his moral greatness
throws all other forms of greatness into the shade. He is not ambitious
to make his name the theme, the gaze, the wonder of a dazzled community.
[96] Of all the Hindoo millionaires whose life afforded the most
ennobling example of a pious and disinterested man that of Lalla
Baboo--the ancestor of the present Paikpárrá Rajah family, in the
suburbs of Calcutta--was certainly one of the most remarkable. He
possessed a princely fortune, a considerable portion of which he wisely
set apart for the support of the poor and destitute. Unlike most of his
wealthy countrymen, he renounced all the pleasures of the world, and in
the evening of his life retired with only a shred of cloth into the holy
city of Brindabun. As a practical illustration of self-denial he
actually led the life of a religious mendicant, daily begging from door
to door for a mouthful of bread. His religious endowments still continue
to offer shelter and food to hundreds of poor people in and around
Brindabun, which has been so graphically described by Colonel Tod.
"Though the groves of Brinda" says he, "in which Kanaya (Krishna)
disported with the Gopis, no longer resound to the echoes of his flute;
though the waters of the Jumna are daily polluted with the blood of the
sacred kine, still it is the holy land of the pilgrim, the sacred Jordan
of his fancy, on whose banks he may sit and weep, as did the banished
Israelite of old, the glories of Mathoora, his Jerusalem."
[97] Division always implies weakness and "estrangement intolerable
isolation" impeding the expansion of genuine benevolent feelings in a
comprehensive sense.
[98] Very few persons remember the days when Chuckerbutty faction and
grievance Thomson used to raise a hue and cry in the Fouzdarry
Balakhánáh Debating Club, formed for the political emancipation of India
before the people were fully prepared to appreciate the value of their
rights and privileges.
XVI.
THE KOBIRAJ OR NATIVE PHYSICIAN.
Notwithstanding the rapid progress of medical science throughout the
country since the establishment of the Calcutta Medical College, it is
an undeniable fact that the practice of Hindoo _Kobirajes_ and Mussulman
_hakims_ still continues to find favour in the eyes of a large section
of the Indian population. In Chemistry, Anatomy, Midwifery and Surgery,
the decided superiority of the English over the Native system, is
admitted by all. This is unquestionably an age of improvement;
everything around us indicates the progressive development of arts and
sciences, and a society that does not keep pace with the onward march of
intellect is certainly much behind the age.
There was a time when upwards of sixteen original medical writers, some
of whose works are still extant, flourished in India, and medicines
prepared according to the formulas of the _Ayurveda_--the best standard
medical work--were supposed to have produced wholesome results,
affording no inconsiderable amount of relief to thousands afflicted with
diseases of various kinds, and even of a most malignant character. Under
the Hindoo dynasty, every encouragement was given to the cultivation and
improvement of medical science. Next to the Brahmins, the Vidya class
was respected, though sometimes they are unjustly twitted with what is
called a hybrid origin. It is, however, foreign to our purpose to
determine this point, which seems to be enveloped in obscurity. The
common theory on which the Hindoo system of physic is based, has
reference to the country, the season and the age of the patient, to
which is superadded the course of regimen suited to his physical
organisation. The scientific and philosophical theory is that there are
certain defined elements in the human body on the natural equilibrium of
which mainly depends the health of man. The disturbance of this normal
equilibrium, either by the increase or decrease of the essential
ingredients, deranges the system and requires the use of medicines
generally obtained from several kinds of indigenous drugs, bark, root,
wood, fruits, flowers, metals, &c.
From the existing medical works according to which medicines are
prepared and cures effected, it is evident that the Hindoo system is not
entirely destitute of science, but the light it is capable of diffusing
is greatly dimmed by a combination of unfavourable circumstances brought
about by the overthrow of the Hindoo dynasty, the decay of learning in
every branch of human knowledge, and the consequent growth and progress
of empiricism.
In his eleventh discourse before the Asiatic Society, that distinguished
orientalist, Sir William Jones, has said "Physic appears in these
regions to have been from time immemorial as we see it practised at this
day by the Hindoos and Mussulmans, a mere empirical history of diseases
and medicines." This is presumably a remark applicable to a society but
little removed from a state of barbarism, but the existence of such
scientific works as _Ayurveda_, _Nidan_, _Churruck-Swasru_,
_Sarasungraha_, _Boidya_, _Sarvuswn_, &c., furnishes abundant proof that
the Hindoo system of physic is not altogether founded on empiricism.
In 1838 the Honorable the East India Company appointed a Committee,
consisting of Drs. Jackson, Rankin Bramby, Pearson, W. B. O'Shaughnessy
and Mr. James Prinsep, to examine and report upon the state of the
Honorable Company's Dispensaries, and the possibility of substituting
native drugs for European medicines, the primary object being twofold,
namely cheapness and efficacy. Death, ill health and the casualties of
the service dispersed the Committee long before the members could
accomplish the task imposed on them, and subsequently the whole charge
devolved upon Dr. W. B. O'Shaughnessy, who, after the unwearied labour
of four years, assisted by some of the best Native physicians, produced
a work entitled "The Bengal Dispensary" published under the authority of
the Government of India, which still remains a valuable monument of his
indomitable zeal and untiring devotion to medical science.
Great attention has also been given to the scientific analysis of the
various indigenous drugs by Roxburgh, Wallick, Ainslie, White, Arson,
Royle, Pereira, Lindlay, Richard, &c., &c. The result of their
analytical examination, though not so exhaustive as the very great
importance of the subject required, was nevertheless very favourable to
the opinion that the native system was based on fixed scientific
principles, and that many of the drugs possessed great curative
properties. Unfortunately the improved principles and important
discoveries of modern Europe have not been sufficiently brought to bear
on the simultaneous development of the native system. They have,
however, proved greatly beneficial in teaching the native _kobirajes_ to
adopt, to a certain extent, the European method and regime.
It is a remarkable fact that even now, when this science may be said to
be in a retrogressive stage both for want of adequate culture as well as
of sufficient encouragement, there are a few Hindoo _kobirajes_[99] in
this City, and in other parts of the country, whose treatment in chronic
cases of fever, dysentery, diarrhoea, phthisis, pulmonary consumption,
asthma, &c., proves, in a great measure, successful. Hence in almost
every respectable Hindoo family there is a competent _kobiraj_, who is
always consulted in cases of a serious nature. It is generally
considered that on the subject of pulsation greater weight is attached
to the opinion of a Hindoo _kobiraj_ than to that of an English doctor.
By the pulse, in the different parts of our physical organisation, the
state of the body may be ascertained and suitable remedies applied. In
cases of severe indisposition among the Hindoos, the friends of a
patient have not only to contend against the struggle between life and
death, but to closely watch the last expiring flicker of vitality that
he may be removed in time to the banks of the sacred stream for insuring
his entrance into heaven.
It has been urged by some native physicians that the Sanskrit work,
_Ayurveda_, above-mentioned, treats of anatomy and of the doctrine of
the circulation of the blood. If this be true, great credit is doubtless
due to its author for having made in a comparatively dark age such
considerable advances in an important branch of medical science, without
which medicine and surgery are of little avail. Chemistry, which enables
us to distinguish the real properties of different substances, was
certainly not unknown to the Hindoo physicians, because their medicines
indicate a scientific selection of several ingredients mixed together to
produce a certain result. But it can by no means be asserted that the
people ever attained to a thorough knowledge, either in the one or the
other, which can bear comparison with the perfection of the modern
European system. In almost every department of human knowledge steady
progress is the grand characteristic of the age, but in this country
unhappily a spirit of scientific investigation has very nearly been
extinguished simply for want of adequate cultivation and support.
If empirics abound in enlightened Christendom, where chemical analysis,
scientific researches in materia medica and pharmacy, and anatomical
demonstration and surgical operations almost daily bring to light new
discoveries and inventions, what can be expected in a country where
medical science has long since been in a state of absolute stagnation.
Ignorant and unprincipled quacks, quite unacquainted with the rules of
the Hindoo medical shastras, abound all over the country, which has for
some years past been severely suffering from malarious fever of a
virulent type, carrying death and devastation wherever it prevails.[100]
They literally sport with the health of their patients, and the natural
consequence is, hundreds and thousands of human beings are mercilessly
sacrificed to their ignorance and cupidity. Not one in a hundred of
those who call themselves _kobirajes_ is acquainted with the principles
of physic as laid down in the standard medical works of the Hindoos.
Some of them have a few nostrums of their own, the composition of which
is unknown to every one but themselves.
A Bengalee _kobiraj_ carries a miniature dispensary about him. He takes
with him a small packet, containing different kinds of pills or powders,
wrapped up in a piece of paper, in small doses which are commonly used
twice a day with ginger, honey, betel, roots of doov-grass, &c. He
seldom uses phials; liquids, when required, are made in a patient's own
house. His medicines are chiefly made of drugs, but he has neither a
proper classification of them, nor a complete system of botany. He uses,
however, certain preparations of oil, which are sometimes beneficially
administered in chronic cases. These preparations are rather expensive,
selling from two to ten Rupees per pound. The popularity of some of
these _kobirajes_ stands very high in Native public estimation. Almost
every wealthy family in the interior as well as in the Town has its own
physician. The fee of a quack in the villages is one Rupee on the first
day of his visit, and he continues to attend twice daily until the
patient recovers. When completely recovered, the physician gets one or
two Rupees more, a suit of clothes and some provisions.
The introduction of English medicines into the interior, though not
scientifically administered in every case, has very considerably
affected the trade of the native quacks. Their occupation, it may be
said, is nearly gone, because the doctors of the Bengalee class, more
systematically trained under the auspices of the Government Vernacular
Colleges, have, in a manner, superseded them. In strong fevers, instead
of compelling the patient to fast for twenty-one days or longer, and
restricting his regimen to parched rice, the Bengalee class doctor first
reduces him by evacuations,[101] and then gives him either fever
mixture, or cinchona febrifuge, or quinine mixture as he thinks best.
In place of warm applications--the quondam regimen of a kobiraj in
strong fevers--he gives ice or cold water, thus relieving the patient
from the effects of a merciless abstinence and excessive thirst. On the
periodical return of the unhealthy season in Bengal, _i. e._, in the
months of September, October, November and December, when the atmosphere
is surcharged with a large quantity of vapour, these doctors generally
reap a harvest of gain from their practice. It should be mentioned,
however, that their imperfect knowledge and want of sufficient
experience, are too often attended with the most disastrous results.
FOOTNOTES:
[99] The most popular and successful among them are, Gunga Prosad Sen,
Chunder Coomar Roy, Gopee Bullub Roy, Prosono Chunder Sen, Brojendro
Coomar Sen, Kally Dass Sen, &c. They profess to practise on the
principles of _Ayurveda_, the best standard work on Hindoo Medical
Science, and their mode of treatment is much appreciated by respectable
Hindoos.
[100] The general climate of Bengal has for some years past become very
unhealthy, and as fever is the most prevalent epidemic in the Lower
Provinces, Dr. D. N. Gupto's Mixture has become a patent medicine,
proving efficacious in the majority of cases, so that the doctor is said
to have made a very large fortune by the sale of it within a few years.
As far as success is concerned, Dr. D. N. Gupto has almost become the
minimized Holloway of Bengal. Several other Native assistant surgeons
have from time to time endeavoured to offer their anti-malarious mixture
to the inhabitants of Lower Bengal, but they have signally failed in
winning public confidence and favor. Attempts at counterfeit trade marks
have also been tried, but on conviction before a Court of Justice the
guilty have been punished.
[101] The late indisposition of the Marquis of Ripon gave rise to many
alarming rumours as to the probable turn and termination of the
disease--malarious fever--with which he was unhappily attacked during
his travels to and from Bombay, and which, according to telegraphic
messages, had considerably weakened his constitution, and diminished the
wonted activity and vigor of his mind. The antiquated notion that
violent paroxysm of fever in a European in this country causes the
abnormal depletion of the system by constant evacuations has still a
strong hold on the popular mind. Hence a pessimist view was generally
taken of the speedy and complete recovery of so good and beneficent a
Governor-General, whose rule, though only just begun, has been happily
inaugurated by several circumstances of a peculiarly hopeful character,
tending, in no small degree, to make the people happy and contented by
anticipation. The termination of the disastrous and ruinous Afghan war,
the few public utterances of his Lordship bearing on the future policy
of the Government of India for the general well-being of the subjects,
and the sure prospect of an abundant harvest, and the consequent
appreciable reduction in the price of rice--the main staff of life in
this country--by nearly fifty per cent., have all combined to evoke a
sincere desire and fervent hope among the people for the long
continuance of a rule so nobly begun and beneficently administered. May
undisturbed peace and undiminished plenty and prosperity be the
distinguishing features of such a liberal, generous and pure
administration, and may it end fitly what it has begun so auspiciously.
In speaking thus favorably of the Marquis of Ripon's Government, I
merely echo the sentiments of my countrymen from one end of the vast
British Indian empire to the other.
XVII.
HINDOO FEMALES.
The condition of a Hindoo female, partially described in the preceding
pages, is usually deplorable. The changes and vicissitudes to which her
chequered life is subject are manifold. From the day she is ushered into
the world to her dissolution, she is surrounded by adventitious
circumstances, which, from the peculiar constitution of the society in
which her life is cast, contain a larger admixture of misery than of
happiness. Weak and frail as she assuredly is made by nature, the
conventional forms and social usages to which she is religiously
enjoined to adhere alike tend to deprive her of temporal and spiritual
happiness. Born under unfavorable circumstances chiefly by reason of her
sex, her life is rendered doubly miserable by the galling chains of
ignorance and superstition. "Accursed the day when a woman child was
born to me," was the emphatic exclamation of a Rajpoot when a female
birth was announced. "The same motive," says Colonel Tod, "which studded
Europe with convents, in which youth and beauty were immured until
liberated by death, first prompted the Rajpoot to infanticide: and,
however revolting the policy, it is perhaps kindness compared to
incarceration. There can be no doubt that monastic seclusion, practised
by the Frisians in France, the Langobardi in Italy and the Visigoths in
Spain, was brought from Central Asia, the cradle of the Goths.[102] It
is in fact a modification of the same feeling, which characterizes the
Rajpoot and the ancient German warrior,--the dread of dishonor to the
fair: the former raises the poniard to the breast of his wife rather
than witness her captivity, and he gives opiate to the infant, whom, if
he cannot portion and marry to her equal, he dare not see degraded."
Descending from the lofty ideal of a chivalrous Rajpoot character to the
more familiar portraiture of tame Hindoo life in Bengal, we find the
same sad destiny is the portion of a female in both cases. "When a
female is born no anxious inquiries await the mother--no greetings
welcome the new comer, who appears an intruder on the scene, which often
closes in the hour of its birth. But the very silence with which a
female birth is accompanied forcibly expresses sorrow." In almost every
stage of life, from infancy to old age, her existence presents a uniform
picture of gloominess, uncertainty, despondency, and neglect. Freedom of
thought and independence of action--the natural birthrights of a
rational being--are denied her not by her Creator but by a selfish,
narrow-minded and crafty priesthood. She is treated and disposed of as
if she were entirely destitute of the feelings and ideas of a sentient
being. She dare not emerge from the unhealthy seclusion of the closely
confined _andarmahal_, or female department, where suspicions and
jealousies, envy and malignity are not unfrequently brewing in the
boiling caldron of domestic discord. Born within the precincts of an
ill-ventilated zenana, and cooped up in the cage of an uncongenial cell,
she is destined to breathe her last in that unwholesome retreat.
A European lady can have no idea of the enormous amount of misery and
privation to which the life of a Hindoo female is subjected. In her
case, the bitters far counterbalance the sweets of life. The natural
helplessness of her condition, the abject wretchedness to which she is
inevitably doomed, the utter prostration of her intellect, the
ascendency of a dominant priesthood exacting unquestioning submission
to its selfish doctrines, the unmerited neglect of an unsympathetic
world, and the appalling hardships and austerities which she is
condemned to endure in the event of the death of her lord, literally
beggar description. All the graces and accomplishments with which she is
blessed by nature, and which have a tendency to adorn and ennoble
humanity, are in her case unreasonably denounced as unfeminine
endowments and privileges, to assert which is a sacrilegious act.
If she is ever happy, she is happy in spite of the cruel ordinances of
her lawgiver, and the still more cruel usages and institutions of her
country. Manu, the greatest fountain of authority, has expressly
inculcated the doctrine that no man other than a Brahmin should receive
the blessings of knowledge, and much more severely was the rule enforced
in the case of females, who were held to be naturally unfit for mental
culture! It was worse than a blasphemy to attempt to educate a female;
she was born in ignorance, she must die in ignorance. All the horrors of
a premature and certain widowhood were pictured forth to her eyes, were
she to make an effort to enlighten her mind.[103] How shamefully
contracted were the views of the Hindoo lawgiver in respect of the
progressive development of the human intellect! His prohibitory
injunction was and is now more honored in the breach than in observance.
From the moment a female child is brought into the world, a new source
of anxiety arises in the minds of its parents, which becomes more and
more intense as it advances in years. The thought of educating the child
is not what troubles their heads, it is a thought which is at the
furthest remove from their imagination; but the idea how to dispose of
it in the world continually preys on their minds. The child, perfectly
unconscious of the fate that awaits it, begins to handle the playthings
set before it, and as nature in almost every case works intuitively, it
soon learns to make a miniature kitchen with earthen pots and pans
resembling that in the midst of which it has to spend the greater
portion of its existence. It is a noteworthy fact that a Hindoo lady
even when placed in affluent circumstances does not consider it beneath
her dignity to occasionally take a part in the _cuisine_, or at least in
making preparations for the same, though the family has professional
cooks in its employ, the principal object being to feed her husband and
children with extra delicacies prepared with her own hand. Instead of
idle and unprofitable talk and scandalous gossipings, reflecting on the
characters of others, such an occupation is deserving of
commendation.[104]
When six or seven years of age, the mother endeavours to initiate the
girl in the first course of simple _Bratas_ or religious vows, which are
destined, as has been already shewn, to exercise a vast influence on her
mind. The germs of superstition being thus sown so early take a deep
root. Meanwhile the anxiety of the mother for her marriage increases
with her growth. Numerous proposals are received and rejected, till at
length a selection is made according to the rules stated in a former
sketch. In this manner, persons are married with as much indifference as
cattle are yoked together, they are disposed of according to the
judgment of their parents, without the parties, who are to live together
till death, having the slightest opportunity of seeing each other, much
less of studying each other's disposition.
If a female child possess, as is very rarely the case, finely chiselled
features, embodying the ideal of a Hindoo beauty, the breast of the
mother is freed for a time, but for a time only, from perturbation or
internal agitation. It may be she is congratulated on the birth of so
beautiful a child, and it is but natural that she should indulge in
pleasant delusions about the future of her offspring. She looks forward
to a match at once desirable and happy. Fed with such hopes, she
cherishes many a fond idea of the wealth of joys in store for her
daughter. But how often are our brightest hopes blasted by the ruthless
hand of fortune.
If, on the contrary, the girl be deficient in beauty, the bosom of the
mother is perpetually disturbed by gloomy forebodings, which no worldly
advantage can effectually remove, no reasoning can sufficiently
suppress. The reassuring admonition of congenial minds may sustain her
spirits for a time, but whenever alone or disengaged from the toils of
domestic duties, her mind almost involuntarily reverts to the future
destiny of the girl. As day by day she grows older, and her features
begin to assume a more distinctive form, the deformity, which was but
faintly perceived at first, becomes more striking. The mother herself,
perhaps, being a living illustration of how fruitless were the attempts
of her parents to secure for her a desirable match, naturally feels a
strong misgiving as to the good fortune of her child.
While the hearts of the parents are thus filled with disquieting
thoughts, the girl is perfectly unconscious of the fate that awaits
her. She laughs and sports about, regardless of what is written on her
forehead by the _Bidhata pooroosh_. The performance of the religious vow
in her infancy, having for its object the securing a good husband, might
incidentally remind her of marriage, but the thought passes off in a
moment like the streaks of a morning cloud. Hence it has been justly
said that the happiest days in the life of a Hindoo female are those
preceding her marriage. If in Bengal, under the paternal care of a
Christian Government, she is not permitted to become a victim to the
poppy at her dawn, or the flames at her riper years, like her Rajpoot
sister in times of yore, she is ever and anon subject to the appalling
hardships of a _bidhaba_ life, or widowhood. Though too young to fully
realise the thousand and one evils of such a wretched existence, yet the
living examples she daily and hourly sees around her make, to use a
native phrase, "her hands and feet enter into her belly."
To those who have studied the existing state of Hindoo society, it is a
matter no less of wonder than of gratulation that the system of early
marriage, the arbitrary manner in which it is consummated, and the utter
absence of the voice and consent of the parties thus affianced, deriding
the very idea of the slightest opportunity being given to study each
other's disposition and habitude, should produce such a large amount of
conjugal felicity, which is the fundamental object of this solemn
compact. In every nation removed from barbarism, marriage is a
recognised ordinance, alike sanctioned by the law of God and the law of
man. It is a solemn covenant between a man and a woman to love each
other through all the vicissitudes of life, till the union is dissolved
by the death of either. We may go further and say that even then the tie
of relationship does not become totally extinct, inasmuch as the party
surviving has to provide for the nurture and education of children,
should there be any. Such being the nature of a matrimonial engagement,
it is next to impossible that a boy of fourteen wedded to a girl of nine
should be capable of forming an adequate idea of the grave
responsibility. The evil must work its own remedy with the general
spread of education and the growth of a sound system of domestic and
social economy, because the existing one is unhealthy and unnatural. It
is useless to dilate on the evil consequences of early marriage, they
are clearly apparent in the every-day life of a Hindoo.
Nature is so propitious to us in every respect that out of evil she
brings good. When the female, destitute as she is of the blessings of
knowledge, becomes the mother of several children, she is raised to the
rank of a governess, or in other words, she becomes a _ghinni_, or head
of the family. To all intents and purposes, she seems to understand her
duties so thoroughly that almost instinctively she exercises a salutary
control over a number of young girls, newly married, corrects all
improprieties of conduct, and teaches them to cherish feelings of mutual
kindness, love and affection.
In many cases, however, it must be acknowledged, the custom of several
families--all branches of the same stem,--living together under one
roof, is a fruitful source of evil, often embittering the sweet
enjoyments of a peaceful conjugal life. Where there is no harmony among
the several female members of a family, the slightest misunderstanding
occasions bitterest quarrels, especially when there is no recognised
_ghinni_ or female head to check the same, or reconcile the parties by
matronly advice. For instance, if one son in a family be well-to-do in
the world, and another does not possess the same advantages, it is ten
to one but that the wife of the former constantly advises him to mess
separately, if not to remove to a different house, and as unequal
combination is always disadvantageous to the weaker side, the latter has
to put up with slights and indignities which are oftentimes unbearable,
and terminate in a separation either in food or domicile, or both. It is
a well established fact that a woman is the principal cause of a
disruption between brothers and other members of a family. Though she is
mild, soft, kind and flexible, yet she belies her nature when sordid
self and mean avarice exert a dominant sway over her mind. Stinted in
her culture and contracted in her views, Mammon is her god, and she
looks to the welfare of her husband and her own children as the chief
end of her existence. She is naturally loath to give a share of the
affection of her husband to a rival; she also cannot brook the idea of
frittering his earnings among his kindred. I have known of the most
affectionate and devoted of brothers not being able to see each other's
face under the all powerful influence of petticoat government. A
European becomes a housekeeper as soon as he marries. The arrangement is
an excellent one, no doubt, and as educated Hindoos are very much
disposed to imitate English manners, the practice where feasible is
gradually gaining ground, despite the prevalence of the old patriarchal
system throughout the greater portion of the country. There is a common
native saying, which runs thus: "as many brothers, so many abodes." It
is to a certain extent a striking illustration of the existing state of
things; harmony and peace can scarcely be found in a family where
brothers are swayed, as they must be, by the irresistible influence of
their wives.[105] To the credit of the patriarchal system, there still
exist in every part of the country numerous families that scout the idea
of a segregation.
Turning from the dark to the bright side of the picture, it is
gratifying to observe that of late years, attention has been directed
to, and laudable exertions are being made for, the education of Hindoo
females. Nothing can compare in importance with the steady progress of
this movement. After the movement had been begun by the Missionary
Societies, the late Hon. Mr. Drinkwater Bethune gave an important
impetus to this noble cause from the side of Government. These examples
have since been followed up by other devoted friends of native
improvement, and the Government has fully recognised the paramount
importance of the object. This combination of efforts has already
produced the most gratifying results. That there is a growing desire for
learning among the females by the study of such elementary books,
Bengallee and English, as have a tendency to improve their
understanding, is a patent fact. Not only young girls, whose age permits
them to attend schools, but grown up ladies, who are confined within the
precincts of a zenana, are alike influenced by this commendable desire.
Almost every respectable Hindoo family in Calcutta has a Christian
governess, who besides giving primary and Bible instruction, teaches all
sorts of needle-work--an art in which considerable progress has been
made within the last few years.[106] This is an indication of the growth
of a refined taste which is a great step towards the cause of national
improvement. As we have said elsewhere, instead of spending their time
in idle talk and unprofitable occupation, if not in unpleasant
dissension, they now vie with each other in producing works of art and
usefulness, and as a matter of course the annual distribution of rewards
is a great incentive to exertion. It is devoutly to be wished that this
desire for learning and taste for works of art should gradually spread
and be appreciated throughout the length and breadth of the land. In the
interior, however, the mass of the people of all ranks and of both sexes
are still as remote from the influence of this improvement as they were
centuries ago.
It is a pity that Hindoo females are withdrawn from schools the moment
they are married; this is an insuperable obstacle to the full
development of their mental powers. The progress made by some of them in
the zenana is really very creditable, and challenges the commendation of
all who have the elevation of native female character at heart. They are
not only assiduous in the cultivation of feminine graces and
accomplishments, but their superior grasp of thought and language rank
them among the literary women of their country. Some thirty years back
the Hindoo females of Bengal were immersed in ignorance; they were
represented as degraded beings incapable of improvement; not one in a
thousand could read or write; but since proper steps have been taken to
remove this national reproach, they have evinced an ardent desire to
enrich their minds by a course of study which, though not profound, is
well fitted to adorn female life. The English Church Mission, "The
Scottish Ladies' Association," a department of the Church of Scotland
Mission, the Free Church Mission, the American Mission, &c. are all
doing an incalculable amount of good by their disinterested efforts to
impart the blessings of knowledge to such zenana females as are
precluded by being married from attending schools. The complete
regeneration of India cannot be expected until the emancipation of the
females is accomplished, practically proving to the world, as it has
already done in a very limited degree, the palpable absurdity of Manu's
interdictory edict, restraining them from cultivating their intellectual
powers.
As a proof of the progress already made in the _higher_ branches of
female education, it is gratifying to state that two young ladies passed
the First Arts' Examination of the Calcutta University at the end of
last year. One of these was trained in the Bethune School, and the other
in the Free Church Normal School. This examination represents a very
considerable amount of acquirement, and is next to the B. A. Several
other female candidates also passed the Entrance or Matriculation
Examination at the same time. Similar progress has been reported from
the Madras Presidency.
Authentic history furnishes abundant evidence of the prevalence of
female education in the country to a considerable extent, until
Mahomedan oppression not only proscribed Hindoo women from pursuing a
literary career, but ultimately dragged them into a state of unhealthy
seclusion for the preservation of their honor, which they valued more
than their very life. In Rajpootana every respectable female was
instructed to read and write. Of their intellectual endowments and
knowledge of mankind, whoever has had opportunities of conversing with
them could not fail to form a favorable impression.[107]
FOOTNOTES:
[102] "The Ghikers, a Scythic race, inhabiting the banks of the Indus,
at an early period of history were given to infanticide". "It was a
custom," says Ferishta, "as soon as a female child was born, to carry
her to the market place, and there proclaim aloud, holding the child in
one hand, and a knife in the other, that any one wanting a wife might
have her; otherwise she was immolated. By this means they had more men
than women, which occasioned the custom of several husbands to one wife.
When any husband visited her, she set up a mark at the door, which being
observed by the others, they withdrew till the signal was removed."
[103] The Hindoo lawgivers, whatever their shortcomings in other
respects, showed a great insight into human nature when they looked more
to women than men for the comparative stability of their doctrines. That
the perpetual ignorance of the former promises a permanent harvest of
gain to the hierarchy, is quite evident. If a correct return were
available as to the number of pilgrims who periodically visit the
different holy places throughout the country, it would doubtless
establish the fact that upwards of two-thirds of such pilgrims are
females. If it were not for their pertinacious adherence to their
traditional faith, the Brahminical creed, at least in the great centres
of education, would have long since fallen into desuetude. The blind
unquestioning faith of the female devotees in their gods and goddesses
is the great secret of the very high estimation in which they are still
held. If we educate the females and gradually disabuse their minds of
early prejudices, we not only lay the axe at the very root of idolatry,
but pave the way for the ultimate recognition of the true religion.
[104] The late Baboo Rajbullub Roy Chowdhry, of Baripore, a very wealthy
zemindar, south of Calcutta, used, it was said, to bring up the girls of
his family, which was almost a small colony, in the art of cooking all
sorts of native dishes, from the highly spiced _polowyá_ to simple
_dhall-bath_ and vegetable curry; he also taught them to bring up water
for culinary purposes from a tank inside of the house in silver _ghara_
or pots. Though he possessed the most practical of all worldly
advantages,--the power of a purse,--yet he did not hesitate to initiate
the girls in the art of cooking, that they may be fully prepared to
perform the duty in case of necessity. I can easily cite other instances
of a similar nature, but I believe they are not necessary.
[105] At the time of the _Churruck Poojah_ or swinging festival, which
takes place about the middle of April, the _Kháshárees_ or Braziers of
Calcutta are accustomed to make _Sungs_ or caricature-representations of
different sorts of familiar scenes, illustrative of the prevailing
manners of the present age. In many cases they hit off the mark so
admirably that they cannot fail to make a deep impression on the popular
mind. Among other representations they once exhibited a caricature of a
son taking a wife on his shoulder, while dragging a mother by a rope
round her neck, exemplifying thereby the respective estimation in which
each is held.
[106] An annual fair or _mela_ is held near Calcutta, at which the best
specimens of needle-work executed by Hindoo females are exposed to
public view, and prizes awarded by European and Native gentlemen. Great
credit is due to Baboo Nobo Gopal Mitter, the editor of the National
Paper, for this annual exhibition. Unfortunately the _mela_ is
languishing for want of sufficient public support.
[107] "I have conversed for hours," says Colonel Tod, "with the Boondi
queen-mother on the affairs of her government and welfare of her infant
son, to whom I was left guardian by his dying father. She had adopted me
as her brother: but the conversation was always in the presence of a
third person in her confidence, and a curtain separated us. Her
sentiments shewed invariably a correct and extensive knowledge, which
was equally apparent in her letters, of which I had many. I could give
many similar instances. The history of India is filled with anecdotes of
able and valiant females. Ferishta in his history gives an animated
picture of _Durgavati_, queen of Gurrah, defending the rights of her
infant son against Akbar's ambition. Like another Boadicea, she headed
her army, and fought a desperate battle with Asoph Khan, in which she
was wounded and defeated; but scorning flight, or to survive the loss of
independence, she, like the Roman of old in a similar predicament, slew
herself on the field of battle."
The accomplished Maharatta lady--Roma Bai--who lately visited Calcutta,
affords a remarkable example of an educated Hindoo woman. She is an
excellent Sanskrit scholar, well read in _Sreemut Bhagabat_. Several
Pundits were astonished at her wonderful acquirements.
XVIII.
POLYGAMY.
In this, as well as in some other eastern countries, polygamy has from
time out of mind been in existence. That it is subversive of moral order
and of conjugal felicity, is admitted by all who have paid the slightest
degree of attention to the very many evil consequences of this abnormal
institution. It is a violation of a just and divine law, opposed to the
nurture and education of children, and inconsistent with the due
equality of the sexes. In every country where this obnoxious practice
prevails, and is dignified with the hallowed name of a social and
religious ordinance, as is done in India, woman occupies a degraded
position, and society is rude and unexpansive in its character. The most
heinous crimes are committed without remorse, and conscience is seared,
as it were, with a red-hot iron. "Nature has designed woman to be the
equal of man as a moral and intellectual being; and confined to the
exercise of her own proper duties as a wife and mother, she is placed in
a favourable position as relates to her own happiness and the happiness
of her husband." Much of the civilization of Europe is due to the high
position of the fair sex in the social scale. Their education, their
capacity for rearing their children in orderly and virtuous habits,
their elevated conceptions of a Supreme Being, their social and domestic
manners, the purity of their lives, their natural tenderness and
affection, their freedom, and the moral influence of their actions on
society, give them a rank in no way inferior to that of the other sex.
But in this country, it is painful to realise that they are not only
denied the inestimable blessings of a good education but that their
first lawgiver has condemned them to a state of abject servitude.
"Women have no business" says Manu, "with the text of the Veda, this is
the law fully settled: having, therefore, no evidence of law, and no
knowledge of expiatory texts, sinful women must be as foul as falsehood
itself; and this is a fixed rule. Through their passion for men, their
mutable temper, their want of settled affection, and their perverse
nature, (let them be guarded in this world ever so well,) they soon
become alienated from their husbands." Manu allotted to such women "a
love of their bed, of their seat, and of ornament, impure appetites,
wrath, weak flexibility, desire of mischief and bad conduct. Day and
night must women be held by their protectors in a state of dependence."
Apart from their practically servile condition, the apparent complacence
with which polygamy is tolerated, and the facility with which a
plurality of wives can be obtained, are circumstances which poison the
perennial source of conjugal felicity, reduce them to a state of moral
and intellectual degradation, and sap the very foundation of virtue. "A
barren wife," says Manu, "may be superseded by another in the eighth
year; she whose children are all dead, in the tenth; she who brings
forth only daughters, in the eleventh year; she who speaks unkindly,
without delay." Bullal Sen, who, if I mistake not, had first established
the system of _Koolinism_ in Bengal, and prescribed certain rules in
favor of polygamy, was singularly deficient in foresight and wisdom when
he entirely overlooked the evil consequences inseparable from this
monstrous matrimonial arrangement, so pregnant with mischief in whatever
aspect we view it. Any artificial institution which is subversive of
divine law will, in the main, prove highly unfavourable to the best
interests of society. The marriage of a man with but one wife is an
arrangement which should never be departed from. To dispose of the
ministering angels of our existence, without the slightest regard to
their future happiness, and yoke them to an unprincipled libertine, or
a Koolin perhaps on the verge of his grave, is a system alike
destructive of all social, benevolent and humane feelings. A Koolin has
no regard, much less sympathy, for any one of his numerous wives, on the
contrary he looks to them for gain and other worldly advantages. It is a
notorious fact that Koolin wives after their marriage almost invariably
live with their parents, thus virtually closing all avenues to the
growth of affection between the husband and wife. The one is as
estranged from the other as if there had been no bond of union between
them. As the temptations to vicious indulgences are so very powerful and
numerous in this wicked world of ours, the unscrupulous Koolin females
of the sacerdotal class often sacrifice chastity at the altar of
sensuality. The perpetration of the most horrible crimes is the
necessary effect. The fault does not rest so much with the poor
unfortunate females as with the diabolical system which openly tolerates
and religiously upholds polygamy. That it is an unnatural state, even
the most thoughtless will readily admit. In every case it is the source
of perpetual disputes and misery. Domestic happiness can have no place
in a family in which more than one wife lives. I have known many a
person who under the impulse of passion had entered into this unnatural
state deplore it as the greatest of all domestic afflictions. Even
separate cook rooms, separate apartments, and separate _mehals_, and
dining and sleeping alternately with two wives with the greatest
punctuality, and giving the same set of ornaments to both, were not
enough to ensure harmony, peace and tranquillity. Indeed it has become a
proverb among the Hindoos, that "one wife would rather go with her
husband to the gloomy regions of _yama_ (Pluto) than see him sit with
the other." As has already been described, a tender girl of five years
of age is, as her _first_ instruction before emerging from her nursery,
initiated into the _Brata_ or religious vow of _Sayjooty_, the primary
object of which is the ruin and destruction of a _Sateen_ or rival wife.
The germs or jealousy against, and contempt for, a rival being thus sown
so early, they take deep root and expand in time so as to become
absolutely ineradicable.
When the presence of two wives in the same house is attended with so
much disquietude, the evil arising from the practices of professional
Koolins is much greater. They are married to a number of females whose
prospect of connubial bliss is as remote as the poles are asunder.
Instead of true love and genuine attachment, the legitimate conditions
of matrimony, the natural apathy of the husband is often requited by the
infidelity of his numerous wives; nor can it be otherwise, the visits of
the husband being, like those of a meteor, few and far between. Being
destitute of the finer susceptibilities of human nature, and looking
upon matrimony as a matter of traffic, he regards his wives as so many
automata whose happiness is not at all identified with his own.
Influenced by a sordid love of gain, bred and brought up in the lap of
ignorance and laziness, and pampered by effeminate habits, he leads a
profligate life typical of utter demoralisation. He cares as little for
the chastity of his wives as a child does for the nicety of his
playthings. By rank, profession and habit he is a debauchee. His sense
of female honor is totally blunted. The thought of nurturing and
educating his numerous children never enters into his mind. He knows not
how many sons and daughters he has, whether legitimate or illegitimate;
he is not capable of recognising them, simply because he has seldom or
never seen their faces. If he keep a register of the number of his
wives, he keeps no record of the number of his children. When he wants
money, he pounces on such a father-in-law as can satisfy him. If he keep
one wife at home, it is not from warmth of affection that he does so,
but merely for his own convenience and comfort; she is made to discharge
all the menial offices of a domestic maid-servant. Though never placed
in affluent circumstances, yet he is the lord of thirty, forty or fifty
women. It has been very aptly remarked by an eminent writer who had paid
much attention to the manners and customs of the Hindoos,--that "amongst
the Turks, seraglios are confined to men of wealth, but here, a Hindoo
Brahmin, possessing only a shred of cloth and a piece of thread,
(_poita_) keeps more than a hundred mistresses." Indeed such a system of
monstrous polygamy is without a parallel in the history of human
depravity. Prostitution, adultery, and the horrible crime of the
destruction of the foetus in the womb by means of deleterious drugs
administered by old women, are the inevitable consequences of this
unnatural state of things. It is an undeniable fact that the daughters
of Koolin Brahmins, abandoned by their unprincipled husbands, are often
led into the forbidden paths of life, partly through the impulse of
passion amidst the seductions of a wicked world, and partly through
their exceedingly miserable circumstances. The houses of ill fame in
Calcutta and other large towns are filled with women of this infamous
character, and the inhuman practice of _patefaláno_ prevails to an
alarming extent, notwithstanding the increased vigilance of the police.
Some fifty years ago a number of respectable Hindoos felt so disgusted
at the mischievous tendency of the Koolin system of marriage that they
were on the eve of memorialising the Government to put down the practice
by a legislative enactment, such as had been done in the prohibition of
_sati_ or female immolation, but they were assured that the authorities
would not interfere in the domestic and social usages of the people.
It is gratifying to observe, however, that the growth of intelligence
and the march of intellect has of late years greatly counteracted the
influence of this monstrous evil. If the Rulers will not attempt to
abolish a social system opposed to the feelings of natural affection by
the denunciation of the severest temporal penalties, the good sense of
the people who are victimised by it must be appealed to for its total
suppression.
The following extract from Mr. Ward's excellent work on the Hindoos will
give the reader an idea of the fearful extent to which Koolinism
prevailed in Bengal some fifty or sixty years back, when English
education could scarcely be said to have commenced the work of
reformation or rather disintegration.
"Notwithstanding the predilection for _koolins_ they are more corrupt in
their manners than any of the Hindoos. I have heard of a Koolin Brahmin,
who, after marrying sixty-five wives, carried off another man's wife, by
personating her husband. Many of the Koolins have a numerous posterity.
I select five examples, though they might easily be multiplied: Oodhoy
Chunder, a Brahmin, late of Bágnápárá, had sixty-five wives, by whom he
had forty-one sons, and twenty-five daughters. Ramkinkur, a Brahmin,
late of Kooshda, had seventy-two wives, thirty-two sons, and
twenty-seven daughters. Vishnooram, a Brahmin, late of Gundulpárá, had
sixty wives, twenty-five sons and fifteen daughters. Gouree Churn, a
Brahmin, late of Treebanee, had forty-five wives, thirty-two sons, and
sixteen daughters. Ramakant, a Brahmin, late of Bhoosdaranee, had
eighty-two wives, eighteen sons and twenty-six daughters; this man died
about the year 1810, at the age of 85 years or more, and was married,
for the last time, only three months before his death. Most of these
marriages are sought after by the relations of the female, to keep up
the honor of their families; and the children of these marriages
invariably remain with their mothers, and are maintained by the
relations of these females. In some cases, a Koolin father does not know
his own children."
Not only the rules of caste, but _poverty_ is also a great barrier to
the marriage of Koolin women, a fact which has been very feelingly
deplored in the following lines. Maidenly anxiety finds a natural vent
in them:--
"Out spake the bride's sister,
As she came frae the byre,
O! gin I were but married,
It's a' that I desire;
But we poor folk maun live single,
And do the best we can,
I dinna care what I should want
If I could but get a man.
Another, and O! what will come o' me!
And O! what will I do?
That sic a braw lassie as I
Should die for a wooer, I trow."
When Bullal Sen first introduced this obnoxious system, which went under
the euphonious title of the Order of Merit, he little anticipated that
the very small seed of mischief he then planted would soon grow into a
luxuriant tree, and produce an abundant crop of evils, poisoning the
very source of domestic felicity. It requires no depth of thought to
predict that the evil is destined to die a natural death, as all such
social evils are fated to do, when ignorance and superstition are driven
into their congenial darkness. Though many a Hindoo still lives in the
sin of polygamy without any particular repentance, yet the irresistible
progress of virtue, like that of truth, will ultimately teach him that
it is an unsafe foundation on which to build the sober structure of
domestic happiness.
The details of the following conversation between a husband, his old
mother, and his two wives, placed at the disposal of the writer by a
friend, may, he trusts, not be out of place:--
"What is this noise for," exclaims Radhamoney, a widow, (the name of the
mother) coming out of the _thacoor ghur_ in which she was worshipping;
"this noise, this tumult, this quarrel, this wringing of the hands,
these curses will surely drive away Luckhee from the house, it is
enough to make the devil fly; you have lost every sense of shame, _mago
ma_, your clamour has deafened my ears, where shall I go? one is apt to
leave her clothes behind. You have been served right; it was only the
other day that Grish, (name of the son) lost 5,000 Rupees in a case at
the Burra Adawlut (High Court.) If I be a _Sati_ (chaste woman), I say,
you two women (pointing to the two wives) will be beggared and reduced
to the condition of _harrees_ (those who carry night soil); in what
unlucky hour did these two women enter the house. You are both
_Rakhasees_ (female cannibals.) Day by day, sorrow is eating into the
vitals of my son, his golden body is being darkened every day; Oh!
_Bidhata_ (God) you have ordained this for me?" "Ullungo (name of the
maid-servant) what is the cause of this uproar?" asks the mother. "_Ma_,
what will I say," replies the maid-servant; "the cook _first_ gave the
_vath_, boiled rice to Comul," (name of the daughter of the first wife).
"Is this all? nothing more?" continues the mother; "my Báchá (child) has
had no food for seven days, being ill with fever. You all know this; the
_kobeeraj_ (physician) this morning has ordered some rice for her,
whereupon the second wife, all this while roaring and bawling, cursing
and swearing, stepped forward and said, it is past nine and my Hurree
(her son's name, 12 years old) has not yet got a morsel, his belly has
shrunk, and the school time is come; if late, his master will make him
stand." Radhamoney, the old mother, or _ghini_, sent for the cook, and
enquired if the rice were ready. "Yes, _ma_, Hurree Baboo came into the
cook room half an hour ago, and I asked him to take his meal; _chotta
ma_ (second wife) prevented him, because I _first_ gave the rice to
Comul who was so long ill." "Where is Hurree now?" enquired the old
lady. The maid-servant replied "_Chotta ma_ gave him a few pice and told
him to go to his school, though he could have eaten rice if he liked."
"Let Grish return home," added the old lady, "and I will tell him to
send me to Benares without delay; I am sick of your incessant broils;
for giving Comul rice _first_ you two _bous_ fell into a quarrel, and
cursed each other so fearfully that you, _burra bou_ (first wife), ate
the head of Hurree, and you, _chotta bou_ (second wife), ate the head of
Comul's husband."[108]
It was evening, and Grish, the son, returned home from office. Before he
had time to take off his office dress, the old mother, impatient to tell
him what had occurred during the day, and with tears in her eyes, thus
addressed him: "You, my son, have brought the greatest curse on yourself
by marrying two wives; to-day the whole family has been starving, and
why? because Comul, suffering from fever for the last eight days, had
got a little rice this morning, and she ate _first_; _chotta bou_,
therefore, prevented her son from eating anything, and sent the little
_bacha_ to the school without rice. From what _pajee_ (mean) families
have you brought these two females? I can no longer remain in the house.
Under the slightest pretext, like infamous wenches, they not only brawl
but curse each other and the son and son-in-law into the bargain. Can
Luckhee dwell in such a house? send me to Benares instantly, I can no
longer live in such a hell of a place. Your wives have made it a regular
hell." The son consoles the old mother, promising that everything would
be done according to her wish, begging her at the same time to eat
something, and adding that he does not mind whether his two wives eat or
not. After going through the evening service, he slept outside that
night, pondering what should be done for the future quiet of the family.
Next day he removed the first wife to her father's house, because the
second wife is always the _Zuburdust_, imagining that one hand can never
make a clap. But he was sadly mistaken, the deserted wife, continually
brooding over her misfortune, at length resolved to put an end to her
existence, and accordingly one night took an overdose of opium, and bade
a final adieu to the world.
The above story is founded on real life and should serve as a warning to
those who under the impulse of passion blindly run into a state of
polygamy, which is undoubtedly one of the greatest domestic evils among
the natives.
FOOTNOTES:
[108] Eating the head means wishing death. When two rival wives fall out
they literally become frantic through anger and jealousy. With shaking
hands and dishevelled locks they abuse and curse each other most
violently.
XIX.
HINDOO WIDOWS.
The system of early marriage, and the barbarous institution of
condemning a Hindoo female to a life of perpetual widowhood after the
death of her husband, are evils which cannot be too strongly deprecated.
In this country, owing to the prevalence of early marriage and the
manner in which it is consummated, a Hindoo does not become a
housekeeper immediately after his marriage. The wife generally remains
one or two years with her parents, occasionally going to her
father-in-law's house for a few days only; her husband pays her a visit
now and then, but not without the special invitation of his
mother-in-law. The object of such an invitation is evidently to make the
son-in-law behave well towards her daughter. For the attainment of this
object, as I have described before, no means is left untried. Indeed it
has become a proverb among the Hindoos that when a man fares
sumptuously, it is said, he has been fed with all the fondness shown to
a son-in-law. It has always struck me that if a Hindoo female were
permitted to re-marry after the death of her first husband, the
affection of a mother-in-law for a son-in-law would not have been so
warm as it now is under the existing state of things, which admits of no
alternative.
Living under the paternal roof for one or two years after her marriage,
a Hindoo girl sometimes becomes a widow,[109]--a state of life which is
unspeakably miserable. When a young female of ten or eleven years of age
loses her husband, with whom perhaps she had scarcely ever exchanged a
single word, she is quite unconscious of the unmitigated misery she is
fated to endure for the remainder of her long existence.[110] Deplorable
as such a condition undoubtedly is, it becomes doubly miserable from the
cold, uncongenial and unsympathetic atmosphere by which she is
surrounded, and the uncared-for neglect with which she is treated ever
afterwards. Except a mother, who can adequately conceive the thousand
and one miseries which are in store for the daughter? It is a gloomy
picture from the beginning to the end, and the gloom deepens as time
rolls over her devoted head. Cursed be the name of the lawgiver who has
made such a cruel ordinance, and cursed the society that has become a
thrall to it! Opposed to the feelings of humanity and natural affection,
the divine lawgiver of the Hindoos, Manu, expressly enjoins that
"although the state of widowhood might be deemed onerous by the fair sex
of the west, it would be considered little hardship in the east. Let her
emaciate her body, by living voluntarily on pure flowers, roots and
fruits, but let her not, when her lord is deceased, even pronounce the
name of another man. A virtuous wife ascends to heaven, if, after the
decease of her lord, she devote herself to pious austerity; but a
widow, who slights her deceased husband by _marrying again_, brings
disgrace on herself here below and shall be excluded from the seat
of her lord. Abstinence from the common pursuits of life, and
entire self-denial, are rewarded by high renown in this world, and in
the next the abode of her lord, and procure for her the title of
_sadhvi_ or the virtuous." From the above it is evident that widowhood
has prevailed in this country from time out of mind. Its mischievous
tendency is apparent in the degraded and corrupt state of female
society. We can never thoroughly conquer nature; we can never restrain
our passions so effectually as to render ourselves proof against
temptation. The frailty of women is admittedly great, and the ease with
which they may be seduced into the forbidden paths of life is too
well-known to need being enlarged on. However sedulously a Hindoo mother
may guard the virtue of her widowed daughter, and however forcibly she
may inculcate the doctrine of purity of life and manners, it proves but
a feeble barrier against the irresistible impulse of passion. Numerous
instances are on record, proving the utter futility of human efforts to
contend successfully against nature in this respect. A young widow may
be sent to the holy cities of Benares and Brindabun, where she is not
unfrequently removed with her mother or grandmother to spend the
remainder of her days in a state of isolated seclusion and religious
service, but this is a poor safeguard for the preservation of constancy
and virtue. Volumes after volumes have been written on the subject,
denouncing in an unmistakable manner the monstrous perversity of the
existing system, but the evil has taken such a deep root in the social
economy of the people that the utmost exertions must be put forth before
it can be wholly eradicated.
The evils of widowhood are not only confined to the endurance of
accumulated hardships, and self-denials enough to rend asunder the
tenderest chord of humanity, but they likewise extend to unlawful
connections, and the perpetration of another crime, that of abortion,
which is no less revolting in enormity than infanticide itself. Many
respectable families, which are otherwise esteemed for their meritorious
actions, have more or less sunk in honor from this indelible stigma; a
few have even lost their caste and status in society from the above
cause. In the primitive state of Hindoo society, when every female other
than a wife was regarded either as a mother or sister according to age,
irregular intercourse was almost unknown, but in these days of
libertinism perfect purity of life is rarely known. Our divine lawgiver,
in view to the interests of humanity and female honor, ought to have
made proper provision by lending his authority and sanction to a system
of widow remarriage within a reasonable period of life. Some such edict
would have been alike honorable to our venerable sage, and beneficial to
those who are morally and socially most deeply interested in it; but
unfortunately his cruel dicta, running counter to the fundamental
principles of virtue and morality, have necessarily engendered a rank
crop of evils, undermining the very foundation of human happiness.
The benevolent exertions of that high priest of Nature, Pundit Isswara
Chunder Vidyasagar, Baboo Keshub Chunder Sen, the Brahmo apostle, and
other Hindoo reformers, to promote the cause of widow marriage in
particular, and female emancipation in general, have not, it is sad to
contemplate, been attended with the measure of success they deserve,
simply because the state of Hindoo society is not yet ripe for the
innovation. I am, however, sanguine in my expectation that at no very
distant future the progress of enlightenment will ultimately bring about
the consummation so devoutly to be wished for. It is for the advanced
pioneers to endeavour to remove the incrustation which age and learning
have formed and tradition and custom enshrined with jealous and sedulous
care. Until this is done, a Hindoo widow must continue to mourn her lot
amidst the denunciations of a heartless world. Sighs will never cease
flowing from her heart so long as she finds herself deprived of the
master charm of life. She is now cast amongst the dregs and tatters of
humanity. Bereft of the _substance_ of what endears life to a female,
she is constrained to cleave to the _shadow_, which is destined to leave
her when she leaves the light of life. Losing all hope of worldly
enjoyments, she deposits the treasures of her heart in the sanctuary of
religion, convinced that to sell the world for the life to come is
profitable. It is terrible to contemplate the awful amount of physical
and mental suffering with all its varied complications, to which she is
doomed; her life is a steadfast battle against misery, her soul soars in
a vacuum where all is unreal, empty and hollow, and all the sweet
enjoyments of life fall flat on her taste. Her mental strife is never
over. She is like a weary swimmer who throws himself back and floats,
because he is too much exhausted to swim longer, yet will not sink and
let the cold and merciless water close over his head. Her spirit has
broken wildly loose from its normal attitude, and her mind is
overwhelmed in a surging tide of misery. From the day she loses her
husband, she has a new lease of life, and a miserable lease it must be.
She will not cease to lament until her soul itself shall die. If she
could say, joy was once her portion, it lighted on her as the bird rests
on the tree in passing and takes wing, yet she would now say, her
existence is so unlife-like that to her death is sweet. She is a poor
fallen outcast of humanity. No one can enter into her feelings and views
of things. She has no influence, no control over herself, she cannot
turn over a new leaf within her own mind. Though society is almost a
necessity of our existence, yet she lives wholly alone; a cheerless
train of thoughts always haunts her mind, she feels a dismal void in her
heart, she finds herself cut off at once and for ever from one most dear
to her, no conversation, however pleasant, can bring her consolation or
cheat her grief. The tide of settled melancholy threatens her reason. As
an outcast, she is religiously forbidden to take a part in any of the
social and domestic concerns of life, tending to relieve the ennui of a
wearisome existence, and to enliven the mind for a while. She is a
living example of an angel sent by heaven to minister to the comforts of
man, turned by a cruel institution into a curse. Estranged from the
affection of those who are, by the ties of consanguinity, nearest and
dearest to her, she passes her days like a recluse, quite apart from the
communion of society. She stares and gazes wildly at every festive
celebration, while, as the poet sings,
"The glad circle round them yield their souls
To festive mirth and wit that knows no gall."
If she have longings irrepressible and cravings insatiable to lend her
hand to any _shoova karma_ (meritorious work), her widowed condition
interposes an insurmountable barrier to her participation therein, as if
everything would be desecrated when touched by her polluted hand.
As a sentient being, endowed with all the finer susceptibilities of
human nature, is it possible that she should so far forget herself as
not to feel the bitterest pangs of despondency at her hopelessly forlorn
condition? Driven from the genial atmosphere of a social circle, she
drags a loathsome existence in this selfish and unsympathetic world.
Except she that gave her birth, who would deign to look upon her with
love and affection? Instead of being regarded, as she assuredly should
be, as the soul of simplicity, a living picture of sweet innocence, she
is shunned as one whose very presence portends evil. If she possess
unaffected modesty and a keen sense of honor and virtue, who is to
recognise and appreciate those amiable qualities in a society which is
preposterously estranged from all natural susceptibilities? If she have
riches what would that avail her, a poor misguided victim of
superstition![111] Her charity, instead of being founded on the catholic
principles of genuine liberality shewing a discriminate breadth of view,
too often exhibits an unhappy tenacity of adhesion to exclusiveness in
the performance of idolatrous ceremonies. If she is placed above the
atmosphere of artificialness, it is her misfortune to be surrounded by a
concatenation of conventional restrictions which render her life a
visible embodiment of helpless misery and anguish, and if she ever
appeals, she appeals to the Being who is the only friend of the hopeless
and the poor. To attempt to reconcile a widow to her forlorn lot is to
tell a patient burning with fever not to be thirsty. Her days are
dismal, her nights are dreary.
It was the dread of widowhood, and the unmitigated life-long miseries
inseparable from it, that led fifty wives at a time to ascend the
funeral pyre of a Rajpoot husband, with all the composure of a
philosophic mind. It redounds greatly to the credit of the British
Government that its generous exertions have not only struck the
death-knell of this inhuman practice, even in the remotest corner of the
Empire, but, what is more commendable, endeavoured "to heal the wounds
of a country bleeding at every pore from the fangs of superstition."
Not content with depriving her of the best enjoyments of life which
society affords, and the laws of God sanction, by condemning her to a
state of perpetual widowhood, the great lawgiver--the unflinching foe of
freedom in females--has further enjoined the strict observance of
certain practices that add gall to her already overflowing cup of
misery. As has been observed before, she is restricted to one scanty
meal a day, always of the coarsest description, devoid of fish[112]
which is generally more esteemed by an _ayistree_ lady than any other
article of food in her bill of fare. She must religiously fast on every
_ekadossee_, twice a month, and on all other popular religious
celebrations. She must bare her body of all sorts of ornaments, even the
_iron_ and the _gold_ bangles, which once constituted the _summum bonum_
of her life. As an appropriate substitute for the gold and pearl
necklaces, she is enjoined to wear a _toolsee mala_ (a basilwood
chaplet), and count a _toolsee_ wood bead roll for the final rest of her
soul. She is prohibited from wearing any bordered clothes, a _thayti_
being her proper garment; she is not permitted to daub her forehead with
_sidoor_, (vermillion), once the pride of her life when her lord was
alive; she is forbidden to use any bazar-made article of food, and to
complete the catalogue of restrictions she sometimes shaves her head
purposely that she may have an ugly appearance and thereby more
effectually repel the inroads of a wicked, seductive world.
If she have any children to nurture, the happy circumstance affords a
great relief to her wearisomely monotonous life. Day and night she
watches them with great care, and looks forward to their progressive
development with intense anxiety, forgetting in the plenitude of her
solicitude her own forlorn condition. Should there be any mishap in
their case, it causes an irreparable break-down in her spirit, which is
for ever "sicklied over with the pale cast of thought."
It is a painful fact that riches when not properly used have a tendency
to corrupt the minds of human beings, and lead them from the path of
virtue to that of vice. A wealthy widow who has the command of a long
purse more readily falls a prey to the temptations of the world than one
who, moving in an humbler sphere of life, has her mind almost wholly
engrossed with domestic cares, and the thoughts of a future state of
beatitude. "Verily," as Lord Lytton says, "in the domain of poverty
there is God's word."
Considering the endless round of hardship and self abnegations to which
she is inevitably doomed by a terrible stroke of fortune, "which scathes
and scorches her soul," it is cheering to reflect that she so often
shines brightest in adversity. Indeed she may be occasionally said "to
die ten times a day," but her incredible powers of patient endurance,
coupled with her high sense of female honor, are deserving of the
highest admiration.
FOOTNOTES:
[109] Such a widow is called a _Korayraur_, or one who has never enjoyed
the company of her husband. A stronger term of female reproach can
scarcely be found in the Hindoo vocabulary. From the day this terrible
bereavement occurs she is constrained by conventional rules, in such
cases, to put off from her hand the _iron bangle_, but owing to her
tender age she is tacitly permitted to continue to wear the gold bangle
and a bordered _Saree_ cloth. She is forbidden to use fish--her most
favorite dish,--and she must partially fast on every _ekadossee_, or
eleventh day of the increase or decrease of the moon. When she arrives
at the age of twenty her life presents an unvaried picture of despair
and wretchedness. She becomes a regular widow.
[110] It has been justly remarked, and I believe is in most cases borne
out by facts, that a Hindoo widow generally lives to a very long age.
Her simple and abstemious habits, her devotional spirit, her scanty meal
once a day, her total abstinence from food of any kind on the eleventh
day of the increase and decrease of the moon, besides other days of
close fast, neutralising in a great measure the effects of every kind of
irregularity from whatever cause arising, and the fearful amount of
hardships she is accustomed to endure, all contribute to prolong her
existence. Surely her life may be said to extend in the inverse ratio of
her misery. It is a common expression used by a Hindoo widow, shewing
her contempt of life, "will she ever die? _Yama_, Pluto, seems to have
forgotten her?" If the statistics of the land are consulted, it will
assuredly be found that Hindoo widows comparatively speaking enjoy a
longer life than the adult male population, because the latter is
subject to irregularities and other adverse contingencies of life which
the former is almost entirely free from. It is not uncommon to see a
Hindoo widow of eighty, ninety or a hundred years of age. In short,
nature evidently seems to have exemplified in her the symbol of misery
associated with longevity.
It is also a remarkable fact that idolatry and superstition chiefly owe
their continued influence to the wide-spread ignorance of these female
devotees. At a religious festival, nearly three-fourths of the assembly
are composed of widows.
[111] The worship of _Juggodhatri_ (mother of the world), is performed
by a widow for four years successively to forfend the calamity in the
next birth.
[112] It should be mentioned here that, except the widows of Brahmins
and Káyestus of Bengal, those of lower orders continue to use fish
without any scruple. It is a remarkable fact that Hindoo _women_ are
more fond of fish than _men_. There are some men, especially among the
_Boystubs_, followers of Krishna, who feel an abhorrence to eat fish at
all by reason of its offensive smell, but there is not a single woman
whose husband is alive that can live without it. When a girl becomes a
widow, she can hardly take half the quantity of boiled rice she was
accustomed to take before for want of this, to her, necessary article of
food.
XX.
SICKNESS, DEATH, AND _SHRÁD_, OR FUNERAL CEREMONY.
As I have said in the beginning that a Hindoo lives religiously and dies
religiously, so his last days are attended with a degree of melancholy
interest which is characteristic of the religion which he professes, as
well as of the race to which he belongs. When a Hindoo becomes seriously
ill, the first thing he does is to consult the Almanac as to the stellar
mansion of the period, and engage the officiating priest to perform a
series of religious atonements, called _sastyána_, for the removal of
the evil spirit, and the restoration of health. Mornings and evenings
are dedicated to the service, and the mother or the wife of the patient,
as the case may be, makes a vow to the gods, promising to present
suitable offerings on his recovery, for which purpose a small sum of
money is laid aside as a tangible proof of sincerity. If the patient
should be a useful member of the family, enjoying a good income, greater
solicitude is, as must naturally be expected, manifested for his sake
than for that of an unproductive member; it being not uncommon that a
whole family, consisting of eight or ten persons, male and female,
depend for their sustenance on the earnings of a single individual,--the
inevitable result of a joint Hindoo family. It is customary among the
Hindoos, as it is among other civilized nations, that when a person is
ill, his friends and relatives come to see and console him. The sick man
generally remains in the inner apartment of the house, where the
females--the ministering angels of life--watch him and administer to his
comfort. When visitors enter the room, they go away for a time, but it
must be mentioned that they are not wanting in attention,
kind-heartedness and careful nursing. Days and nights of watching pass
over their heads without a murmur, prayers are continually offered to
the guardian deity for a favorable turn in the fortune of the family,
and available supernatural agency is secretly employed for the
attainment of the end. The following conversation will give some idea of
the melancholy scene:--
Rámkánto (a neighbour), enters the room, and gently accosts Mohun (the
son of the patient.)
Rámkánto, sitting, asks How is your father? I see he is very much pulled
down; the times are very bad, I hear of sickness on all sides, when did
he get ill? Have you seen the almanac? Have you arranged for _sastyána_
(religious atonement)? Don't you despair. He will get well through the
blessing of God; who attends him?
Brojobundhoo (doctor) replies Mohun.
Rámkánto. Yes, he is a good doctor, but you must have a good _Khobiraj_
also (native physician) who understands the _naree_ (pulse) well; these
English doctors do not much care about the pulse.
Mohun--Well, sir, I have engaged Gopeebullub (native physician) to feel
the pulse and watch the progress of the disease.
Rámkánto--That is good, Gopeebullub is a very clever physician, though
not old, he understands pulsation and other symptoms thoroughly. When
does the fever come on? See, how he remains to-day; should the pulse
sink after fever, send for an English doctor to-morrow, either Dr.
Charles or Dr. Coates, both are very good doctors.
Mohun--My uncle gave the same advice.
Rámkánto, (taking Mohun aside) Baba, what will I say? To tell you the
truth, I have no very great hopes of his recovery, the case is serious,
if through the blessing of God he gets well, it would be a _second_
birth; your father has been a great friend of mine, you all know very
well, he is a staunch Hindoo; in these days of depravity, when the
customs of the _Mlechas_ (Christians) threaten to obliterate all traces
of distinction, and merge everything in one homogeneous element after
the English fashion, very few men are to be found like your father,
ready to sacrifice his life for the purity of his religion; if his end
do not accord with his faith, his future state (_parakáll_) is
jeopardised; you, young men may laugh at us, old fools, thinking we have
no sense; a few pages of English do not make a man learned; English
shastra does not make us wise unto salvation; one's own religion is the
best panacea for the good of his _parakáll_ or future state. If you lose
your father, you will never get a father again, he has nourished you
with care and affection up to this day; as a dutiful son you are bound
to serve him in this his last stage; you must be prepared to take him to
the river side when need be, and that is not far distant; if you
neglect, you commit a very great sin, quite unpardonable. What do
fathers and mothers wish children for? It is only for the good of the
_parakáll_, and to take them to Gunga (Ganges) in proper time. Let your
father pass three nights on the river side. I return this afternoon;
take care, watch him closely and let Gopeebullub see him constantly.
Giving these instructions, Rámkánto goes away. After three or four
hours, the fever returns, the patient becomes delirious and talks
nonsense, and the wife becoming very uneasy calls the son in a very
depressed tone, and tells him to send for the English doctor. The son
obeying the order sends for the English doctor at once.
After an hour or so, in comes Dr. Charles accompanied by Baboo
Brojobundhoo. Entering the sick man's room, Dr. Charles examines the
patient carefully, asks Brojobundhoo what medicines he has been giving
him, (the women all the while peeping through the window, unable to
understand what the doctors are talking about), and being satisfied on
this point, comes out and tells the son that his father is dangerously
ill, and that his friend's prescriptions are all right; he, Dr. Charles,
could not do better.
Here enters Rámkánto with two other friends. Before going inside he thus
speaks to the son: I hear Dr. Charles was here, what did he say? How was
the fever to-day.
Mohun answers, Dr. Charles said father is very ill, the paroxysm to-day
was somewhat more violent than that of other days.
Rámkánto--That's bad; day by day the fever eats into the vitals of his
system. (Here the native physician comes). Well, _Khobiraj Mohashoy_,
please go and see how the patient is doing? Gopeebullub (native
physician) goes inside, examines the sick man with great care, satisfies
the eager enquiries of the women by assuring them that there is no fear,
and returns outside.
Rámkánto to Gopeebullub--How did you find him? Is the pulse in its right
place? Do you apprehend any immediate danger? Dr. Charles was here, you
have heard what he has said, whatever the youngsters may say, I have
greater confidence in you than in the English doctors; take good care
and tell us the exact time when to remove the patient to the river side,
that is our last sacred office; should anything happen at home, which
God forbid, we shall never be able to show our faces through shame. What
with such a big son, and so many friends and relations, it would be a
crying shame if the patient die at home? Destiny will have its course
but your _hathjuss_ (skill) will go a great way.
Gopeebullub--Everything depends on the will of God, what can we mortals
do? Whatever fate has ordained must come to pass, we are mere
instruments in the hands of God; the patient is gradually sinking, the
pulse neither steady nor in its right place, we must be prepared for the
worst, a _strong_ pulse in a _weak_ body is an ominous sign, there is no
fear tonight, I can guarantee that.
Rámkánto--Well, it appears his end is nigh, he is no more destined to
have rice and water.[113] Then, pointing to Mohun, Rámkánto says,
to-morrow morning his _Boyetarni_ rite[114] must be performed; make the
necessary preparations at once, and send a man to procure a cot
(charpoy), also see that nothing may be wanting to hurry him to the
riverside.
Mohun--I must do what you bid me do, hitherto I remained behind a
mountain, now I shall be without protection.
Next morning, the rite of _Boyetarni_ being performed, preparations are
made to carry the sick man to the river side: all the nearest relations
and friends assemble, and the patient, then in the full possession of
his senses, is brought outside and laid on the _chárpoy_; his forehead
is daubed with the mud of the Ganges, and a _toolsee_ plant is placed
about his head. He is told to repeat the name of his guardian deity, and
one man going up to him says, let's go to visit the mother Gunga, at
which he nods; this serves as a signal for lifting the _charpoy_, and
putting it on the shoulders of four strong persons of equal size. The
heart-rending scene that ensues hereupon among the females cannot be
adequately described. Their falling on the ground, their loud and
affecting cries, the tearing of their dishevelled locks, the wringing of
their breast, the contortions of their bodies, all produce a mournful
scene of anguish and despair which my feeble pen can hardly pourtray.
The sick man is thus carried, perhaps a distance of two or three miles,
in a state of consciousness[115] exposed to all the dangers of
inclement weather, fully aware of his approaching end, the carriers
exchanging their shoulders every now and then, and shouting out every
five minutes, "Hurry, Hurrybole, Gunga Narain, Brahma, Shiva Ráma,"
until they reach their destination, which, in Calcutta, is Nimtollah
Ghaut, on the banks of the Hooghly.[116] When the _chárpoy_ on which the
sick man is borne is placed on the ground, some one calls out to the
patient to see the sacred stream, which he does in a state of mind that
can be better imagined than described. On opening his eyes he beholds a
dark, gloomy scene, the ghastliness of which is enough to strike horror
into the heart of the most callous and indifferent. Here a dying man
suffering from the convulsive agony of acute pain, is, perhaps, gasping
for breath, there a fellow mortal is taken in a hurry to the very edge
of the holy water to breathe out the last flicker of life; to deepen the
gloom perhaps a corpse borne on a Hindoo hearse is just brought to the
Ghaut amidst the vociferous cries of "Hurry, Hurrybole," which is a
significant death-warrant.
"'Tis too horrible;
The weariest and most loathed earthly life
Which age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death?"
Can imagination conceive a more dismal, ghastly scene? But religion has
crowned the practice with the weight of national sanction, and thus
deadened the finer sensibilities of our nature. Sad as this picture is,
the most staunch advocate of liberalism can hardly expect to escape such
a fate. To a person accustomed to such scenes, death, and its
concomitant agony, loses half its terrors. How many Hindoos are annually
hurried to their eternal home by reason of this superstitious, inhuman
practice? Instances are not wanting to corroborate the truth of this
painful fact. Persons entrusted with the care and nursing of a dying man
at the burning Ghaut soon get tired of their charge, and rather than
administer to his comfort, are known to resort to artificial means,
whereby death is actually accelerated. They unscrupulously pour the
unwholesome, muddy water of the river down his already choked throat,
and in some cases suffocate him to death. "These are not the ebullient
flashes from the glowing caldron of a kindled imagination," but
undeniable facts founded on the realities of life.
The process of Hindoo _antarjal_ or immersion is another name for
suffocation. Life is so tenacious, especially in what the Hindoos call
_old bones_, or aged persons, that I have seen some persons brought back
home after having undergone this murderous process nine or ten times in
as many days. The patient, perhaps an uncared-for widow cast adrift in
the world, retaining the faculty of consciousness unimpaired, is willing
to die rather than continue to drag on a loathsome existence, but nature
would not readily yield the vital spark. In spite of repeated murderous
processes, the apparently dying flicker of life would not become
extinct. In the case of an aged man, the return home after _immersion_
is infamously scandalous, but in that of an aged widow the disgrace is
more poignant than death itself. I have known of an instance in which
an old widow was brought back after fifteen _immersions_, but being
overpowered by a sense of shame she drowned herself in the river after
having lived a disgraceful life for more than a year. As I have observed
elsewhere, no expression is more frequent in the mouth of an aged widow
than the following: "Shall I ever die?" Scarcely any effort has ever
been made to suppress or even to ameliorate such a barbarous practice,
simply because religion has consecrated it with its holy sanction.
But to return to the thread of my narrative, the sick man dies after a
stay of four days at the Ghaut, suffering perhaps the most excruciating
pangs and agony generally attendant on a deat-bed. The names of his gods
are repeatedly whispered in his ears, and the consolations of religion
are offered him with an unsparing hand, in order to mitigate his
sufferings, and if possible to brighten his last hours. The corpse is
removed from the resting place to the burning Ghaut, a distance of a few
hundred yards, and preparations for a funeral pile are speedily made.
The body is then covered with a piece of new cloth and laid upon the
pyre, the upper and lower part of which is composed of firewood,
faggots, and a little sandalwood and ghee to neutralize the effects of
effluvia. The _Marooyapora_ Brahmin,[117] (an outcast) reads the
formula, and the son or the nearest of kin sets fire to the pile; the
body is consumed to ashes, but the navel remaining unburnt is taken out
and thrown into the river. Thus ends the ceremony of cremation; the son
putting a few jars of holy water on the pile, bathes in the stream, and
returns home with his friends, changing his old garment for new white
clothes, called _uttary_, on one end of which is fastened an iron key to
keep off evil spirits. It is worthy of remark here, that providence is
so propitious to us in every respect that in a few hours the son becomes
reconciled to his unhappily altered circumstances caused by the loss of
his father; instead of bemoaning his loss in a despondent frame of mind,
he is soon awakened to a sense of his new responsibility.
On reaching the gate of the house, all persons touch fire, and putting
_neem_ leaves and a few grains of _kalie_ (a kind of pulse) into the
mouth, cry out as before "Hurrybole, Hurrybole" and enter the house. The
lamentation of the females inside the house, which was suppressed for a
while through sheer exhaustion, is instantly renewed at the sound of
"Hurrybole," as if fresh fuel were added to the flame, and every voice
is drowned in the overwhelming surge of grief. Their melancholy strain,
their pointed, pathetic allusion to the bereavement, the cadence of
their plaintive voices, the utter dejection of their spirit, their loud,
doleful cries reverberating from one side of the house to the other, the
beating of their breasts, and the tearing of their hair, are too
affecting not to make the most obdurate shed tears of sorrow.
The son, from the hour of his father's death to the conclusion of the
funeral ceremony, is religiously forbidden to shave, wear shoes, shirts,
or any garment other than the piece of white cloth, his food being
confined to a single meal consisting only of _atab_ rice, _khasury
dhall_ (a sort of inferior pulse) milk, ghee, sugar and a few fruits,
which must be cooked either by his mother or his wife; at night he takes
a little milk, sugar and fruits. This course of _regime_ lasts ten days
in the case of a Brahmin, and thirty-one days in that of a
_Soodra_.[118] Here the advantages of the privileged class are twofold;
(1), he has to observe the rigid discipline for ten days only; (2), he
has ample excuse for small expenditure at the funeral ceremony on the
score of the shortness of time. This austere mode of living for a month
in the case of a _Kayast_, by far the most aristocratic and influential
portion of the Hindoo population, serves as a tribute of respect and
gratitude to the memory of a departed father. As the country is now in a
transition state, a young educated Hindoo does not strictly abide by the
above rule, but breaks it privately in his mode of living, of which the
inmates of the family only are cognisant. He repudiates publicly what he
does privately. Thus the outer man and the inner man are not exactly one
and the same being, he dares not avow without what he does within, in
short, he plays the hypocrite. But an orthodox Hindoo observes the rule
in all its integrity, he is more consistent if not more rational, he
does not play a double game, but conforms to the rules of his creed with
scrupulous exactness.
Fifteen or sixteen days after the demise of his father, the son, if
young, is assisted by his friends in drawing an estimate of the probable
cost of the approaching _Shrád_ or funeral ceremony. In the generality
of cases, an estimate is made out according to the length of the purse
of the party; a few exceed it under a wrong impression that a debt is
warranted by the special gravity of the occasion, which is one of great
merit in popular estimation.[119]
The Sobha Bazar Rajah family, the Dey family of Simla, the Mullick and
Tagore families of Patooriagháttá, all of Calcutta, were said to have
spent upwards of £20,000 or two lacks of Rupees each on a funeral
ceremony. They not only gave rich presents to almost all the learned
Brahmins of Bengal, in money and kind, fed vast crowds of men of all
classes, but likewise distributed immense sums among beggars and poor
people,[120] who for the sake of one Rupee, walked a distance of perhaps
thirty miles, bringing with them their little children in order to
increase their numerical strength. Some really destitute women, far
advanced in a state of pregnancy, were known to have been delivered in
the midst of this densely crowded multitude. Although, now-a-days, the
authorities do not sanction such a tumultuous gathering, or tolerate
such a nuisance oftentimes attended with fatal accidents, no _Shrad_ of
any note at all takes place without the assemblage of a certain number
of beggars and paupers, who receive from two to four annas each.
After the twentieth day, the son, accompanied by a Brahmin and a servant
who carries a small carpet for the Baboo to sit on, walks barefooted to
the house of each and every one of his relations, friends and
neighbours, to announce that the _Shrad_ is to take place on such a day,
_i. e._, on the thirty-first day after death, and to request that they
should honour him with their presence and see that the ceremony is
properly performed, adding such other complimentary epithets as the
occasion suggests. This ceremonious visit is called _lowkata_, and those
who are visited return the compliment in time. The practice is deserving
of commendation, inasmuch as it manifests a grateful remembrance for the
memory of one to whom he is indebted for his being.
Precisely on the thirtieth day, the son and other near relatives shave,
cut their nails, and put on new clothes again, giving the old clothes to
the barber. Meantime invitations are sent round to the Brahmins as well
as to the Soodras, requesting the favor of their presence at the _Sabhá_
or assembly on the morning of the _Shrád_, and at the feast on the
following day or days. On the thirty-first day, early in the morning,
the son, accompanied by the officiating priest, goes to the river side,
bathes and performs certain preliminary rites. Here the _rayowbhats_ and
_tastirams_ (religious mendicants), who watch these things just as
closely as a vulture watches a carcase, give him a gentle hint about
their rights, and follow him to the house, waiting outside for their
share of the articles offered to the manes of the deceased. These men
were so troublesome or boisterous in former days, when the Police were
not half so vigilant as they now are, that for two days successively
they would continue to shout and roar and proclaim to the passers by
that the deceased would never be able to go into _Boykanta_ or paradise,
and that his soul would burn in hell fire until their demands were
satisfied. Partly from shame, but more from a desire to avoid such a
boisterous, unseemly scene, the son is forced to succumb and satisfy
them in the best way he can.
As the style of living among the Hindoos has of late become rather
expensive, and the potent influence of vanity--purely the result of an
artificial state of society--exerts its pressure even on this mournful
occasion, the son, if he be well to do in the world, spends from five to
six thousand Rupees on a _Shrad_; the richer, more. He has to provide
for the apparently solemn purpose the following silver utensils,
_viz._:--_Ghara_, _Gharoo_, _Thalla_, _Batta_, _Battee_, _Raykab_,
glass, besides couch, bedding, shawls, broadcloth, a large lot of brass
utensils and hard silver in cash, all which go to pay the Brahmins and
Pundits, who had been invited. The waning ascendency of this privileged
class is strikingly manifest on an occasion of this nature. For one or
two rupees they will clamour and scramble, and unblushingly indulge in
all manner of fulsome adulation of the party that invited them.[121]
The Pundits of the country, however learned they may be in classical
lore and logical acumen, are very much wanting in the rules of polished
life. The manner in which they display their profound learning is alike
puerile and ludicrous. History does not furnish us with sufficient data
regarding their conduct in ancient days. As far as research or
investigation has elucidated the point, it is reasonable to conclude
that the ascendency of the Brahmins was built on the ignorance of the
people, and there is a very strong probability that there was a secret
coalition between the priests and the rulers for the purpose of keeping
the great mass of the nation in a state of perpetual darkness and
subjection, the latter being oftentimes content with the barter of
"solid pudding against empty praise." But the progress of enlightenment
is so irresistible that the strongest bulwark of secret compact for the
conservation of unnatural Brahminical authority is liable, as it should
be, to crumble into dust. It would be a great injustice to deny that
among these Brahmins there were some justly distinguished for their
profound erudition and saintly lives; they displayed a piety, a zeal, a
constant and passionate devotion to their faith, which contrast
strangely enough with the profligacy and worldliness of the present
ecclesiastics.
The Pundits of the present day, when they assemble at a _Shrad_--and
that is considered a fit arena for discussion--are generally seen to
engage in a controversy, the bone of contention being a debatable point
in grammar, logic, metaphysics or theology. They love to indulge in
sentimental transcendentalism, as if utterly unconscious of the
matter-of-fact tendency of the age we live in. A strong desire of
displaying their deep learning and high classical acquirements in
Sanskrit, not sometimes unmixed with a contemptible degree of
affectation, insensibly leads them to violate the fundamental laws of
decorum. When two or more Pundits wrangle, the warmth of debate
gradually draws them nearer and closer to each other, until from sober,
solid argumentation, they descend to the _argumentum ad ignorantiam_, if
not, to the _argumentum adbaculum_. Their taking a pinch of snuff, the
quick moving of their hands, the almost involuntary unrobing of their
garment, which consists of a single _dhooty_ and _dubja_ often put round
the neck, the vehement tone in which they conduct a discussion, the
utter want of attention to each other's arguments, and their constant
divergence from the main point whence they started, throw a serio-comic
air over the scene which a Dave Carson only could imitate. They do not
know what candour is, they are immovable in their own opinion, and
scarcely anything could conquer their dogged persistence in their own
argument, however fallacious it may be. They are as prodigal in the
quotation of specious texts in support of their own particular thesis as
they are obstinately deaf to the sound logical view of an opponent.
Brahminical learning is certainly uttered in "great swarths" which, like
polished pebbles, are sometimes mistaken for diamonds. The way in which
the disputants give flavour to their arguments is quite a study in the
art of dropping meanings. The destruction of the old husks, and the
transparent sophistries, of the disputatious Brahmins, is one of the
great marvels achieved by the rapid diffusion of Western knowledge.
When engaged in an animated discussion, these Pundits will not desist or
halt until they are separated by their other learned friends of the
faculty. Some of them are very learned in the Shastra, especially in
_Smrittee_, on which a dispute often hangs, but they have very little
pretension to the calm and dispassionate discussion of a subject.
Cogency of argument is almost invariably lost in the vehemence of
declamation and in the utterance of unmeaning patter. Their arguments
are not like Lord Beaconsfield's speeches,--a little labored and
labyrinthine at first, but soon working themselves clear and becoming
amusing and sagacious. Let it not be understood from this that the
language (Sanskrit) in which they speak is destitute of sound logic, as
Mr. James Mill would have his readers believe; it is certainly deficient
in science and the correct principles of natural philosophy as developed
by modern discoveries, but the elegance of its diction, the beautiful
poetical imagery in which it abounds, the sound moral doctrines which it
inculcates, the force of argument by which it is distinguished, and the
elevated ideas which its original system of theology unfolds, afford no
good reason why it should not be stamped with the dignity and importance
of a classical language, and why "the deep students of it should not
enjoy some of the honors and estimation conferred by the world on those
who have established a name for an erudite acquaintance with Latin and
Greek." If the respective merits of all the classical languages are
properly estimated, it is not too much to say that the Sanskrit language
will in no way suffer by the comparison, though as history abundantly
testifies it labored under all the adverse circumstances of mighty
political changes and convulsions, no less than the intolerant bigotry
of many of the Moslem conquerors, whose unsparing devastations have
destroyed some of the best specimens of Sanskrit composition. "When our
princes were in exile," says a celebrated Hindoo writer, "driven from
hold to hold and compelled to dwell in the clefts of the mountains,
often doubtful whether they would not be forced to abandon the very meal
preparing for them, was that a time to think of historical records," and
we should say, of literary excellence? The deep and laborious researches
of Sir William Jones, Colebrooke, Macnaghten, Wilson, Wilkins, and a
host of other distinguished German and French savants, have, in a great
measure, brought to light the hidden treasures of the Sanskrit language.
From eight o'clock in the morning to 2 o'clock in the evening, the house
of a _Shrad_ is crammed to suffocation. A spacious awning covers the
open space of the court-yard, preventing the free access of air; carpets
and satterangees are spread on the ground for the _Kayastas_ and other
castes to sit on, while the Brahmins and Pundits by way of precedence
take their seats on the raised _Thacoordallan_, or place of worship. The
couch-cot with bedding, and the _dan_ consisting of silver and brass
utensils enumerated before, with a silver salver filled with Rupees, are
arranged in a straight line opposite the audience, leaving a little open
space for _kittanees_, or bands of songsters or songstresses and
musicians, which form the necessary accompaniment of a _Shrad_ for the
purpose of imparting solemnity to the scene. Three or four door-keepers
guard the entrance, so that no intruders may enter and create a
disturbance. The guests begin to come in at eight, and are courteously
asked to take their appropriate seats (Brahmins among Brahmins, and
Kayastas among Kayastas,) the servants in waiting serve them with
_hookah_ and tobacco,[122] those given to the Brahmins having a thread
or string fastened at the top for the sake of distinction. The Kayastas
and other guests are seen constantly going in and coming out, but the
generality of the Brahmins stick to their places until the funeral
ceremony is completed. The current topics of the day form the subject of
conversation while the _hookah_ goes round the assembly with great
precision and punctuality. The female relatives are brought in covered
_palkees_, as has been described before, by a separate entrance, shut
out from the gaze of the males. But as this is a mourning scene their
naturally convivial spirit gives way to condolence and sympathy.
Excessive grief does not allow the mother or the wife of the deceased to
take an active part in the melancholy proceedings of the day; they
generally stay aloof in a separate room, and are perhaps heard to mourn
or cry. The very sight of the mourning offerings, instead of affording
any consolation, almost involuntarily enkindles the flame of sorrow, and
produces a train of thoughts in keeping with the commemoration of the
sad event. Sisters of a congenial spirit try to soothe them by precepts
and examples, but their admonition and condolence prove in the main
unavailing. The appearance of a new face revives the sad emotions of the
heart. Nothing can dispel from the minds of a disconsolate mother or
wife the gloomy thoughts of her bereavement, and the still more gloomy
idea of a perpetual widowhood. The clang of _khole_ and _kharatal_
(musical instruments), which is fitted, as it were, from its very
dissonance, to drive away the ghost and kill the living, falls doubly
grating on her ears, while the fond endearments of _Jasoda_, the mother
of Krishna, rehearsed by the songsters in the outer court-yard, but
aggravate her grief the more. Weak and tenderhearted by nature, she
gradually sinks under the overwhelming load of despondency, and raising
her hand to her forehead mournfully exclaims, "has Fate reserved all
this for me?" In such cases, there is appropriateness in silence.
About ten o'clock the son begins to perform the rite of the funeral
obsequies, taking previously the permission of the Brahmins and the
assembled guests to do so. The officiating priest reads the formulas, he
repeating them. It must be noticed here that tenacious as the Hindoos
are in respect of the distinction of caste, they do not scruple to
invite lower orders on such an occasion, but they would not mix with
them at the time of eating. The _Dulloputty_ or head of the party, makes
his appearance about this time; when he enters the house, all other
guests then present, except the Brahmins, as a token of respect for his
position, rise on their legs, and do not resume their seats until he
sits down. For this distinction or honour a _Dullopatty_ has to spend an
immense sum of money, to which allusion has already been made. His
appearance serves as a signal for the performance of the rite, called
_mala chandan_, or the distribution of garlands and sandal paste among
the assembled multitude. As a matter of course, the Brahmins by way of
pre-eminence receive the first garland, and after them the _Dullopatty_
obtains the same honour, and then the _Koolins_[123] and other guests
according to rank. Where there is no _Dullopatty_, the garland is put
round the neck of a boy, at which no one can take any offence, and
afterwards they are distributed indiscriminately.
Meantime the son is engaged in the performance of the ceremony, while
the bands of songsters quarrel with one another for the privilege of
entertaining the audience with their songs, which renders confusion
worse confounded. Female songsters of questionable virtue are now more
in favor than their male rivals, which is an unerring proof of the
degeneracy of the age. Only one band is formally engaged, but thirty
bands may come of their own accord, quite uninvited. The disappointed
ones generally get from two to four Rupees each, but the party retained
gets much more, the rich guests coming in making them presents, besides
what they obtain from the family retaining them.
About one in the afternoon, the ceremony is brought to a close, and the
assembled multitudes begin to disperse. Those who have to attend their
offices return earlier, but not without offering the compliments suited
to the gravity of the occasion. Some of the Brahmins remain behind to
receive their customary _bidhay_ or gift. According to their reputation
for learning they obtain their rewards. The first in the list gets, in
ordinary cases, about five Rupees in cash, and one brass pot valued, at
four or five Rupees, the second and third in proportion, and the rest,
say, from one to two Rupees each, in addition to a brass utensil. The
silver utensils of which the _soroshes_ are made are afterwards cut and
allotted to the Brahmins according to their worth or status in the
republic of letters. The _Gooroo_ or spiritual guide, and the _Purrohit_
or officiating priest, being the most interested parties, generally
carry off the lion's share. So great is their cupidity that the one
disputes the right of the other as to the amount of reward they are
respectively entitled to. As a matter of course, the _Gooroo_, from his
spiritual ascendency, manages to carry off the highest prize. The
distribution of rewards among the Brahmins and Pundits of different
degrees of scholarly attainments, is a rather thankless task. In common
with other human beings, they are seldom satisfied, especially when the
question is one of Rupees. Each sets a higher value on his own descent
and learning, undervaluing the worth of his compeers. The voice of the
President, who has many a knotty question to solve, decides their fate,
but it is seldom that a classification of this nature results in
producing general satisfaction. As these Pundits, or rather professors,
called _Adhaypucks_, do not eat in the house of _Soodras_, in addition
to their reward in money and kind, they, each of them, receive a small
quantity of sweetmeats and sugar, say about two pounds in all in lieu of
_achmany jalpan_ or fried and prepared food. On a _Shrad_ day in the
afternoon one can see numbers of such Brahmins walk through the native
part of the city, with an earthen plate of sweetmeats in one hand and a
brass pot in the other, the fruits of their day's labor. Such gains
being quite precarious, and the prospect looming before them quite
discouraging, the annual sum total they derive from this source is quite
inadequate to their support, and that of the _chottoos-pattee_ or school
they keep. Hence many such institutions for the cultivation of Sanskrit
have been abandoned for want of sufficient encouragement, and as a
necessary consequence the sons and grandsons of these Brahmins have
taken to secular occupations, quite incompatible with the spirit of the
Shastra. In the halcyon days of Hindoo sovereignty, when Brahminical
learning was in the ascendant and rich religious endowments were freely
made for the support of the hierarchy,[124] as well from the influence
of vanity as from the compunctions of a death-bed repentance, such
_chottoos-pattees_ annually sent forth many a brilliant scholar,--the
pride of his professor and the ornament of his country. But the
advancement of English education--the only passport to honor and
emoluments--has necessarily laid, as it were, an embargo on the
extensive culture of Brahminical erudition. The University curriculum,
however, under the present Government, embraces a system well calculated
to remove the reproach.
The day following the funeral ceremony is spent in giving an
entertainment to the Brahmins, without which a Hindoo cannot regain his
former purity. About twelve, they begin to assemble, and when the number
reaches two or three hundred, _Koosasan_ or grass seats in long straight
rows are arranged for them in the spacious court-yard, and as Hindoos
use nothing but green plantain leaves for plates on such grand
occasions, each guest is provided with a cut piece on which are placed
the fruits of the season, ghee-fried _loochees_ and _kachoories_, and
several sorts of sweetmeats in earthen plates for which there are no
English names. In spite of the utmost vigilance of door-keepers and
others, intruders in rather decent dress enter the premises and sit down
to eat with the respectable Brahmins, but should such a character be
found out, steps are instantly taken to oust him. On a grand occasion,
some such unpleasant cases are sure to occur. There are loafers among
Hindoos as there are among Europeans. These men, whom misfortune or
crime has reduced to the last state of poverty, are prepared to put up
with any amount of insult so long as they have their fill. When a Hindoo
makes a calculation about the expenses of an entertainment at a _Shrad_
or marriage (both grand occasions), he is constrained to double or
treble his quantum of supply that he may be enabled to meet such a
contingency without any inconvenience. The practice referred to is a
most disreputable one, and beseems a people not far above the level of a
Nomad tribe. Even some of the Brahmins[125] who are invited do not
scruple to take a portion home, regardless of the contaminated touch of
a person of the lowest order, simply because the temptation is too
strong to be resisted. Before departure, each and every one of the
Brahmins obtains one or two annas as _dakhinah_, a concession which is
not accorded to any other caste.
The next day, a similar entertainment is given to the Káyastas and other
classes, which is accompanied by the same noise, confusion and tumult
that characterised the entertainment given on the previous day. The
sober and quiet enjoyments of life which have a tendency to enliven the
mind can seldom be expected in a Hindoo house of _Shrad_, where all is
_golemal_, confusion and disorder. When a dinner is announced, a regular
scramble takes place, the rude and the uninvited occupy the _first_
seats to the exclusion of the genteel and respectable, and when the
eatables are beginning to be served, the indecent cries of "bring
_loochee_, bring _kachoorie_, bring _tarkari_," and so on, are heard
every now and again, much to the disturbance of the polite and the
discreet.
The day following is called the _neeumbhanga_, or the day on which the
son is allowed to break the rules of mourning after one month. In the
morning the band of songsters previously retained come and treat the
family to songs of Krishna, taking care to select pieces which are most
pathetic and heart-rending, befitting the mournful occasion of a very
heavy domestic bereavement. The singing continues till twelve or one
o'clock, and some people seem to be so deeply affected that they
actually shed tears, and forget for a while their worldly cares and
anxieties. When the songs are finished, the son and his nearest
relatives, rubbing their bodies with oil and turmeric, remove the
_brisakat_ on their shoulders from the house to a place near it. A hole
is made, and the _brisakat_ (a painted log of wood about six feet high)
with an ox on the top, &c., is put into it; after this they all bathe
and return home. The songsters are dismissed with presents of money,
clothes and food.
The son then sits down to a dinner with his nearest blood relation, and
this is the _first_ day that he leaves his _habishee_ diet after a
month's mourning, and takes to the use of fish and other Hindoo dishes.
He is also allowed to change his mourning dress and put on shoes, after
having made a present of a pair to a Brahmin; he, moreover, sleeps with
his wife from this day as before, in fact he reverts to his former mode
of living in every respect.
As the entertainment this time consists of _vojan_, made up of rice and
curries, and not _jalpan_, made up of _loochees_ and sweetmeats,
comparatively a smaller number of guests assemble on the occasion[126]
and that of loafers and intruders exhibits a very diminished
proportion. Even on such occasions, one can always tell from a distance
that there is a feast at such a house from the noise it is invariably
attended with.
Having described above the details connected with the funeral ceremony,
I will now endeavour to give an account of one or two of the most
celebrated _Shrads_ that took place in Bengal after the battle of
Plassey, premising that every thing which shall be said on the subject
is derived chiefly from hearsay, as no authentic historical records have
come down to us. The first and most celebrated _Shrad_ was that
performed by Dewan Gunga Gobind Set, on the occasion of his mother's
death. It was performed on so large a scale that he caused reservoirs to
be made which were filled with ghee and oil, immense heaps of rice,
flour and _dhall_ were piled on the ground. Several large rooms were
quite filled with sweetmeats of all sorts. Mountains of earthen pots and
firewood were stacked on the Maidan. Hundreds of Brahmin cooks and
confectioners were constantly at work to provide victuals for the
enormous concourse of people. Silver and brass utensils of all kinds
were arranged in pyramids. Hundreds of couches with bedding were placed
before the _Sabha_, (assembly). Elephants richly caparisoned with silver
trappings formed presents to Brahmins. Tens of thousands of silver coins
bearing the stamp of _Shah Allum_ were placed on massive silver plates.
And to crown the whole, thousands of learned Pundits from all parts of
the country congregated together to impart a religious solemnity to the
spectacle. All these preparations lent a grandeur to the scene, which
was in the highest degree imposing. Countless myriads of beggars from
the most distant parts of the Province assembled together, and they were
not only fed for weeks at the expense of the Dewan, but were dismissed
with presents of money, clothes and food, with the most enthusiastic
hosannas on their lips. For more than two months the distribution of
alms and presents lasted, and what was the most praiseworthy feature in
the affair was the Job-like patience of the Dewan, whose charity flowed
like the rushing flood-tide of the holy Ganges on the banks of which he
presented offerings to the manes of his ancestors. Some of the
_Adhapucks_ or Professors obtained as much as one thousand Rupees each
in cash and gold and silver articles, or rather fragments of the same,
to a considerable value. Besides these magnificent honorariums the whole
of their travelling and lodging expenses were defrayed by the Dewan, who
was reputed to be so rich that like Croesus of old he did not know how
much he was worth; hence there is still a current saying amongst the
Bengalees, which runs thus: "If ever money were wanted, Gouri Set will
pay." Gouri Set was the son of Gunga Gobind Set. The expenses of the
_Shrad_ have been variously estimated at between ten and twelve lacks of
Rupees. The result of this truly extravagant expenditure was wide-spread
fame, and the name of the donor is still cherished with grateful
remembrance. But as all human greatness is evanescent, the fame of the
family for charity once unparalleled in the annals of Bengal has long
since dwindled into insignificance.
The next _Shrad_ of importance was that of Maharajah Nabkissen Bahadoor
of Shobhabazar, Calcutta. His son Raja Rajkissen performed the _Shrad_,
which, to this day, stands unrivalled in this city. Four sets of gold
and sixty-four sets of silver utensils described before, amounting in
value to near a lakh of Rupees, were given on the occasion. Such
paraphernalia go by the name of _dansagor_ or "gift like the sea."
Besides these presents in money to Brahmins upwards of two lakhs of
Rupees were given to the poor.
If these immense sums of money had been invested for the permanent
support of a Charitable Institution, it would have done incalculable
good to society. But then there was no regularly organised system of
Public Charity, nor had the people any idea of it. Such immense sums
were spent mostly for religious purposes according to the prevailing
notions of the age. Tanks, reservoirs, flights of steps on the banks of
the river,[127] fine rows of trees, every three miles stone buildings or
choultries for travellers, affording a grateful shelter throughout the
country, were among the works of public utility constructed by the
charitably disposed.
FOOTNOTES:
[113] This means that he must soon die.
[114] _Boyetarni_ is a river which must be crossed before one gets to
heaven; the rite consists in distributing a certain amount of _cowries_
among the Brahmins for guiding the soul through the Death Valley to the
other side.
[115] A Hindoo, especially a grown up man, if he die at home is branded
as an unrighteous person; many a one otherwise esteemed righteous in his
life-time is denounced as a sinful being should he not expire on the
banks of the holy stream. In the _rári_, or inland provinces, through
which the Ganges does not flow, people are constrained to breathe their
last on the banks of a neighbouring tank and are consequently precluded,
from their geographical position, from securing the benefit of this
_cheap_ mode of salvation. As a partial atonement for this natural
disadvantage, they bring the navel of the dead and throw it into the
holy stream, which, in their supposition, is tantamount to the
purification of the soul.
[116] A few years back the Calcutta Municipality proposed to have the
burning Ghaut removed to Dháppá, a notoriously unhealthy marshy swamp,
some six miles east of Calcutta, bordering on the Soonderbunds, because
the present site was considered a nuisance to the city. As must
naturally be expected, great sensation was produced among the Hindoo
population, and memorials were submitted to the Government of Bengal,
signed by the most influential portion of the Hindoo community. In spite
of solicitation and remonstrance, the Municipality were determined to
carry out their plan, but the _mighty_ Ramgopal Ghose, as the late Mr.
James Hume, the Editor of the "_Eastern Star_," styled him, interposed
and exerted his best, at great personal sacrifice, to nullify the
proposal. The Hindoos called a meeting, and Ramgopal, moved by the
entreaties of his countrymen, made an admirable speech at the Town Hall,
on which occasion no less than fifty thousand people assembled on the
_maidan_ facing the Town Hall. In the speech he set forth, in a graphic
manner, the suitableness of the present site, and the distress and
hardship of the people, as well as the shock to religious feeling which
the removal would involve. He eventually succeeded in prevailing on the
authorities to withdraw the proposal. When he came out of the Town Hall,
he was most enthusiastically cheered by thousands of people, Brahmins
and Soodras, and loud cries of "may he live long" were heard on all
sides.
[117] Some forty years back these Brahmins and their whole crew of
_murdur-farashassys_ were a regular set of ragamuffins whose sole
occupation was to fleece their victims in the most extortionate manner
imaginable; the Brahmin would not read the formula, nor his myrmidons
put up the funeral pile, without having received nearly four times the
amount of the present cost. Great credit is due to Baboo Chunder Mohun
Chatterjee, the late Registrar, for his strenuous exertions in making
the Police frame a set of rules for regulating the funeral expenses at
the burning Ghaut. It is a public boon which cannot be too highly
appreciated.
[118] In the case of a daughter (married) the mourning lasts for three
days. On the morning of the fourth day she is enjoined to cut her nails,
and perform the funeral ceremony of a departed father or mother. An
entertainment is to be given to the Brahmins and friends. This is always
done on a comparatively small scale, and in most cases the husband is
made to bear all the expenses of the ceremony and the entertainment.
[119] Apart from erroneous popular notions, which in this age of
depravity are corrupted by vanity, the Hindoo Shastra, be it mentioned
to its credit, abounds in explicit injunctions on the subject of a
funeral ceremony in various ways according to the peculiar circumstances
of parties. From an expenditure of lacks and lacks of Rupees to a mere
trifle, it can be performed with the ultimate prospect of equal merit.
It is stated in the holy Shastra that the god Ramchundra considered
himself purified (for a Hindoo under mourning is held unclean until the
funeral ceremony is performed) by offering to the manes of his ancestors
simple balls of sand, called _pindas_, on the bank of the holy stream.
In these days a poor man would be held sanctified or absolved from this
religious responsibility by making a _tilakánchán Shrád_, or offering a
small quantity of rice, _teelseed_ and a few fruits, and feeding only
one Brahmin, all which would not cost more than four Rupees.
[120] At the Shrád of Raja Nubkissen, Nemy Churn Mullick and Ramdoolal
Dey, very near 100,000 beggars were said to have assembled together;
this mode of charity is much discountenanced now and better systems are
adopted for the ostensible gratification of generous propensities. The
District Charitable Society should have a preference in every case.
Instead of making a great noise by sound of trumpet and raising an
ephemeral name from vainglorious motives, it is far wiser that a
permanent provision should be made for the relief of suffering humanity.
[121] The appearance of Brahmins on such occasions has the ludicrous
admixture of the learned and the ragged, exhibiting the insolence of
high caste and the low cringe of poverty.
[122] The Hindoos are so much accustomed to smoking that it has almost
become a necessary of life. At a reception it is the first thing
required. The practice is regulated by rules of etiquette, so that a
younger brother is not permitted to smoke in the presence of his elder
brother or his uncle. Even among the reformed Hindoos, I have seen two
brothers eat and drink together at the same table in European style, but
when the dinner is over the younger brother would on no account smoke in
the presence of his elder brother, if he do, he would be instantly voted
a _bayádub_, or one wanting in the rules of good breeding. The
observance of this etiquette, however, is confined only to the high
caste people; among the lower orders, a son smokes before a father with
the same freedom as if he were taking his ordinary meal.
[123] The following anecdote illustrating the very great honor shewn to
first-class Koolins, will, I trust, not be considered out of place.
When the late Rajah Rajkissen Bahadoor of Calcutta had to perform the
_Shrád_ or funeral ceremony of his illustrious father, the late Moha
Rajah Nubkissen (the ceremony was said to have cost about five lacks of
Rupees or £50,000,) he had to invite almost all the celebrated Koolins
of Bengal at considerable expense. On the day of the _Shrád_ those who
were invited assembled at his mansion in Sobha Bazar, when all eyes were
dazzled at the unparalleled magnificence of the scene, displaying a
gorgeous array of gold, silver and brass utensils for presents to
Brahmins, exclusive of large sums of money, Cashmere shawls, broadcloth,
&c. After the performance of the ceremony, as is usual on such
occasions, the distribution of garlands and sandal paste had to be gone
through; the whole of the splendid assemblage had been watching with
intense anxiety as to who should get the _first_ garland--the highest
respect shewn, according to precedence of rank, to the _first_ Koolin
present. This is a very knotty point in a large assemblage to which all
orders of Koolins had been brought together. The honor was eagerly
contested and coveted by many, but at length a voice from a corner
loudly proclaimed to the following effect: "Put the garland on my
_gode_," (elephantiasis) laying bare and stretching his right leg at the
same time and thus suiting the action to his words. The attention of the
assembled multitude was immediately directed in that direction, and to
the amazement of all, the garland had to be put round the neck of the
very man who shouted from a corner, because by a general consensus he
was pronounced to be the _first_ Koolin then present. But such
artificial and demoralising distinctions, built on the baseless fabric
of quicksand, having no foundation in solid, sterling merit, are fast
falling, as they should, into disrepute.
[124] Manu commands, "Should the king be near his end, through some
incurable disease, he must bestow on the priests all his riches
accumulated from legal fines."
[125] To preserve order and avoid such unseemly practices, a wealthy
Baboo--the late Doorgaram Cor--when he invited a number of Brahmins
allotted to each two separate rations, one on the plantain leaf for
eating on the spot, and another in an earthen _handy_ or pot for
carrying home for the absent members of the family. Even this excellent
arrangement failed to satisfy the greedy cravings of the voracious
Brahmins. As a _dernier ressort_, he at last substituted _cash_ for
_eatables_, which was certainly a queer mode of satisfying the _inner_
man.
[126] There is a vast difference between a _vojun_ and a _jalpan_
dinner. If there be a thousand guests at the latter, at the most there
would be only three hundred at the former, as none but the nearest
relatives and friends will condescend to take rice (_vath_), which is
almost akin to one and the same clanship, whereas in a _jalpan_, not
only the members of the same caste but even those of the inferior order
are tacitly permitted to partake of the same entertainment without
tarnishing the honor of the aristocratic classes.
The following anecdote will, I hope, prove interesting:--
At the marriage procession of a washerman, confessedly very low in the
category of caste, two _Káyastas_ (writer caste) joined it on the road
in the hope of getting a hearty _Jalpan_ dinner; but lo! when, after the
nuptial rites were over, rice and curries were brought out for the
guests, the two _Káyastas_, who sat down with the rest of the company,
tried to escape unnoticed, because if they ate rice at a washerman's
they were sure to lose their caste, but the host would not let them go
away without dinner. They at last spoke the truth, asked forgiveness and
were then allowed to leave the house. To such disappointments
unfortunate intruders are sometimes subjected.
[127] In the sacred city of Benares vast sums of money have been sunk in
building Ghauts with magnificent flights of steps stretching from the
bank to the very edge of the water at ebb-tide, affording great
convenience to the people both for religious and domestic purposes, but
the strong current of the stream in the months of August, September and
October, has played a sad havoc with the masonry works. Scarcely a
single Ghaut exists in a complete state of preservation.
XXI.
SUTTEE, OR THE IMMOLATION OF HINDOO WIDOWS.
Fifty years ago, when the British Government was endeavouring to
consolidate its power in the East, and when the religious prejudices of
the Natives were alike tolerated and respected, there arose a great man
in Bengal who was destined by Providence to work a mighty revolution in
their social, moral and intellectual condition. That great man was
Rammohun Roy, the pioneer of Hindoo enlightenment. Having early enriched
his mind with European and Eastern erudition, he soon rose, by his
energy, to a degree of eminence and usefulness which afterwards marked
his career as a distinguished reformer and a benevolent philanthropist.
He was emphatically an oasis in this sterile land--a solitary example of
a highly cultivated mind among many millions of men grovelling in
ignorance. To his indefatigable exertions we are indebted for the
abolition of the inhuman practice of Suttee, the very name of which
evokes a natural shrinking from the diabolical deed, which appallingly
and suddenly expunged a tender life from the earth, and severed the
dearest tie of humanity. It was the severest reflection on the satanic
character of a religion that ignores the first principle of divine law.
Women are of an impressionable nature, their enthusiasm is easily fanned
into intensity, and superstition and priestcraft took advantage of it.
Not content with sending a sick man to the riverside to be suffocated
and burnt to ashes, a narrow-minded hierarchy lent its sanction to the
destruction of a living creature, by burning the Hindoo widow with the
dead body of her husband, the fire being kindled perhaps by the hand of
one whom she had nurtured and suckled in infancy. It is awful to
contemplate how the finest sensibilities of our nature are sometimes
blunted by a false faith.
My apology for dwelling on this painful subject now that the primary
cause of complaint has long since been removed by a wise Legislature, is
no other than that I had been an eye-witness of a melancholy scene of
this nature, the dreadful atrocity of which it is impossible even at
this distance of time to call to mind without horror and dismay. As the
tale I am going to relate is founded in real life its truthfulness can
be thoroughly relied upon.
When I was a little boy reading in a _Patsálá_ at home, my attention was
one morning roused by hearing from my mother that my aunt was "going a
Suttee." The word was then scarcely intelligible to me. I pondered and
thought over and over again in my mind what could the word 'Suttee'
mean. Being unable to solve the problem, I asked my mother for an
explanation; she, with tears in her eyes, told me that my aunt (living
in the next house) "was going to eat fire." Instantly I felt a strong
curiosity to see the thing with my own eyes, still laboring under a
misconception as to what the reality could be. I had then no distinct
notion that life would be at once annihilated. I never thought for a
moment that I was going to lose my dear aunt for ever. My mind was quite
unsettled, and I felt an irresistible desire to look into the thing more
minutely. I ran down to my aunt's room and what should I see there, but
a group of sombre complexioned women with my aunt in the middle. I have
yet after fifty years, a vivid recollection of what I then saw in the
room. My aunt was dressed in a red silk _sari_ with all the ornaments on
her person, her forehead daubed with a very thick coat of _sidoor_ or
vermillion, her feet painted red with _alta_, she was chewing a mouthful
of betel, and a bright lamp was burning before her. She was evidently
wrapt in an ecstacy of devotion, earnest in all she did, quite calm and
composed as if nothing important was to happen. In short, she was then
at her matins, anxiously watching the hour when this mortal coil should
be put off. My uncle was lying a corpse in the adjoining room. It
appeared to me that all the women assembled were admiring the virtues
and fortitude of my aunt. Some licking the betel out of her mouth, some
touching her forehead in order to have a little of the _sidoor_ or
vermillion, while not a few falling before her feet, expressed a fond
hope that they might possess a small particle of her virtue. Amidst all
these surroundings, what surprised me most was my aunt's stretching out
one of her hands at the bidding of an old Brahmin woman and holding a
finger right over the wick of the burning lamp for a few seconds until
it was scorched and forcibly withdrawn by the old lady who bade her do
so, in order to have a foretaste of the unshaken firmness of her mind.
The perfect composure with which she underwent this fiery ordeal fully
convinced all that she was a real Suttee, fit to abide with her husband
in _Boykonto_, paradise. Nobody could notice any change in her
countenance or resolution after she had gone through this painful trial.
It was about eleven o'clock when preparations were made for the removal
of the corpse of my uncle to the Ghaut. It was a small mourning
procession, nearly thirty persons, all of respectable families,
volunteered to carry the dead body alternately on their shoulders. The
body was laid on a _charpoy_, my aunt followed it, not in a closed but
an open Palkee. She was unveiled and regardless of the consequences of a
public exposure; she was, in a manner, dead to the external world. The
delicate sense of shame so characteristic of Hindoo females was entirely
suppressed in her bosom. In truth, she was evidently longing for the
hour when her spirit and that of her husband should meet together and
dwell in heaven. She had a _toolsee mala_ (string of basil beads) in
her right hand which she was telling, and she seemed to enjoy the shouts
of "Hurree, Hurree bole" with perfect serenity of mind. How can we
account for the strange phenomenon wherein a sentient being in a state
of full consciousness was ready to surrender at the feet of "Hurree" the
last vital spark of life for ever, without a murmur, a sigh, or a tear?
A deep, sincere religious faith, which serves as a sheet-anchor to the
soul amidst the storms of life, can only unriddle the enigma and disarm
death of its terrors. We reached Nimtollah Ghaut about twelve, and after
staying ten or fifteen minutes, sprinkling the holy water on the dead
body, and all proceeded slowly to Kooltollah Ghaut, about three miles
north of Nimtollah. On arriving at the destination which was the dreary
abode of Hindoo undertakers, solitary and lonesome, the Police Darogah,
(who was also a Hindoo) came to the spot and closely examined my aunt,
in various ways attempting if possible, to induce her to change her
mind, but she, like "Joan of Arc," was resolute and determined, she gave
an unequivocal reply, to the purport that "such was her predestination,
and that Hurree had summoned her and her husband into the Boykonto." The
Darogah, amazed at the firmness of her mind, staid at the Ghaut to watch
the proceedings, while preparations were being made for a funeral pile,
which consisted of dry firewood, faggots, pitch with a lot of sandal
wood, ghee, &c. in it to impart a fragrant odour to the air. Half a
dozen Bamboos or sticks were procured also, the use of which we
afterwards understood and saw. We little boys were ordered to stand
aloof. The Brahmin undertaker came and read a few _mantras_ or
incantations. The dead body wrapped in new clothes being placed on the
pyre, my aunt was desired to turn seven times round it, which she did
while strewing a lot of flowers, cowries (shells) and parched rice on
the ground. It struck me at the time that at every successive
circumambulation, her strength and presence of mind failed, whereupon
the Darogah stepped forward once more and endeavoured even at the last
moment to deter her from her fatal determination, but she, at the very
threshold of ghastly death, in the last hour of expiring life, the fatal
torch of _Yama_ (Pluto) before her, calmly ascended the funeral pile and
lying by the side of her husband with one hand under his head and
another on his breast, was heard to call, in voice half suppressed, on
"Hurree, Hurree,"--a sign of firm belief in the reality of eternal
beatitude. When she had thus laid herself on the funeral pyre, she was
instantly covered or rather choked with dry wood, while some stout men
held and pressed down the pyre which was by this time burning fiercely
on all sides, with the Bamboos. A great shout of exultation then arose
from the surrounding spectators, till both the dead and living bodies
were converted into a handful of dust and ashes. When the tragic scene
was brought to a close and the excitement of the moment subsided, men
and women wept and sobbed, while cries and groans of sympathy filled the
air.
If all religions be not regarded as "splendid failures," that outlook
into the future, which sustains us amid the manifold griefs and agonies
of a troublous life, holds out the sure hope of a blessed existence
hereafter. My aunt, Bhuggobutty Dassee, though a victim of superstition,
had nevertheless a firm, unalterable faith in the merciful dispensations
of Hurree which prompted her to renounce her life for the salvation of
her own and her husband's souls, giving no heed whatever to the
importunity of her friends or the admonition of the world. The sincerity
of her religious conviction immeasurably outweighed every other worldly
consideration, and no fear or temptation could deter her from her
resolute purpose, despite its singularly shocking character. It was the
depth of a similar religious conviction and earnestness of purpose that
led Joan of Arc to suffer martyrdom on a funeral pile. When asked by
the executioner if she believed in the reality of her mission, "Yes,"
she firmly replied, while the flames were ascending around her. "My
voices were of God. All that I have done was by the command of God. No,
my voices did not deceive me. My revelations were of God." "Nothing more
was heard from her but invocations to God, interrupted by her long drawn
agony. So dense were the clouds of smoke that at one time, she could not
be seen. A sudden gust of wind turned the current of the whirlwind and
Jeanne was seen for a few moments. She gave one terrific cry, pronounced
the name of Jesus, bowed her head, and the spirit returned to God who
gave it. Thus perished Jeanne, the maid of Orleans," and thus perished
Bhuggobutty Dassee, my aunt.
About the year 1813, Rammohun Roy published a pamphlet in which he very
clearly exposed the barbarous character of the rite of burning widows
alive. He was unfortunately backed by few friends. The orthodox party
was then very strong, and included the most influential and wealthy
portion of the Hindoo community. Maharajah Tejchunder Bahadoor of
Burdwan, Rajahs Gopeemohun and Radhakanto Bahadoors, Promothnath Dey,
Boystubchunder Mullick, Rammohun Mullick and, in fact, the entire
aristocracy of Calcutta were enlisted on the side of opposition. The
"Sumachar Chandrika," the recognised organ of the _Dhurmo Shabha_,
edited by Bhowbany Churn Bonerjea, vilified Rammohun Roy, as an outcast
and infidel and persecuted those who were bold enough to avow their
sentiments in favour of the abolition of this inhuman practice. Rammohun
Roy almost single-handed encountered this formidable opposition, he
fought for a just and righteous but not a popular cause, regardless
alike of the consequences of social persecution and the threats and
scoffs of his orthodox countrymen. Patiently but steadily and
consistently he worked his way, until at last his appeal finding a
responsive echo in a Christian heart, that noble minded Governor
General--Lord William Bentinck--gradually put a stop to the practice.
That eminent statesman had many a conference with Rammohun Roy on the
propriety or otherwise of abolishing this shocking practice. The
anti-abolitionists presented a memorial to Government, urging therein
its unjustifiable interference with the religious usages of the country.
That wise Governor General, who was very anxious to preserve in full
integrity the solemn pledge of government about a neutral policy in
matters of religion, consulted the distinguished Orientalist, Mr. H. H.
Wilson, on the subject, and finally came to the resolution of abolishing
this inhuman institution throughout the British dominion in the East.
But before giving effect to the resolution, he recorded in a Minute that
the authoritative abolition of the practice would be an outrageous
violation of the engagement of the Supreme Government. Accordingly his
Lordship observed: "I must acknowledge that a similar opinion, as to the
probable excitation of a deep distrust of our future intentions, was
mentioned to me in conversation by that enlightened Native, Rammohun
Roy, a warm advocate for the abolition of Suttees, and of all other
superstitions and corruptions engrafted on the Hindu religion, which he
considers originally to have been a pure deism. It was his opinion that
the practice might be suppressed quietly and unobservedly by increasing
the difficulties, and by the indirect agency of the Police. He
apprehended that any public enactment would give rise to general
apprehension, that the reasoning would be, while the English were
contending for power, they deemed it politic to allow universal
toleration and to respect our religion; but having obtained the
supremacy, their first act is a violation of their professions and the
next will probably be, like Mahomedan conquerors to force upon us their
own religion."
The argument urged by Government was as reasonable as its conduct was
compatible with its known policy. But it must be mentioned to the credit
of an enlightened Government that its generous exertions have
effectually healed one of the most shocking wounds inflicted by inhuman
superstition upon our unhappy country.
XXII.
THE ADMIRED STORY OF THE SABITRI BRATA,
OR
THE WONDERFUL TRIUMPH OF EXALTED CHASTITY.
In the halcyon days of the Hindoo _Raj_, when religion was regarded as
the mortar of society, and righteousness the cement of domestic
happiness, when Judhistra the Just inculcated, by precept and example,
the inflexible rules of moral rectitude, there reigned in the country of
Madra a very pious, truthful, wise and benevolent king named _Aswapati_.
For a long time he had no child, which made him extremely unhappy.
Seeing that the evening of his life was drawing nearer every day and
there was no sign of the approach of the wished-for consummation, he
undertook to perform a grand religious ceremony with the object of
obtaining a son and heir, and daily made ten thousand offerings to
please the goddess, Sabitri, from whom the boon was expected.
Thus passed away several long and painful years, at the end of which it
came to pass that the goddess, Sabitri, one day suddenly appeared before
him in the shape of a beautiful woman, and told him that she was ready
to grant him any boon he might ask for, because she was well pleased
with him for his austere asceticism, for the purity and sincerity of his
heart, for the strict observance of his vow, and for his firm, unshaken
faith in her. As was to be expected, he prayed for a good number of
sons, affirming that without offspring the life of man upon earth is but
a wilderness, obscuring the transitory sunshine of bliss into a chaotic
mass of settled gloom.
The goddess said that foreknowing this to be his cherished desire, she
had gone to the Creator (Brahmá) to consult him as to the best means for
its realization, and through his mercy he would soon be blessed with a
female child, in every way worthy of such a pious and virtuous father.
Her beauty would shed a lustre around her name and the fame of her rare
gifts of nature spread far and wide. She would be the cynosure of all
princely eyes, and her charms radiate in all directions. So saying, the
goddess disappeared and the king returned to his own capital.
In a short time, the eldest queen became pregnant and in due course of
time, gave birth to a daughter of matchless beauty. The king and his
Brahmin friends called her Sabitri, after the name of the goddess who
granted the boon. Day by day, the princess grew fairer and fairer, and
soon passed from the incipient stage of smiling childhood to that of
blooming youth. Every one that saw her chiselled features and
prepossessing appearance believed that some angelic beauty,--the
embodiment of loveliness itself--had descended upon earth in the shape
of a lovely damsel. Indeed she was so surpassingly beautiful that no
prince, how great or eminent he might be, dared seek her hand in
marriage lest his suit should be spurned.
The king, Aswapati, thought of marrying his only daughter, then in the
fullness and freshness of youth, to some one worthy of the honor. For
some time no royal suitors ventured to solicit her hand for the reasons
stated above. At length, Sabitri sought and obtained her father's
permission to secure for herself a suitable match. In complying with her
request, the father moreover allowed her to take in her travels some of
the wisest ministers of the state, whose experience and counsel would be
available to her in so momentous an affair. Mounted on a golden chariot
and accompanied by a number of gray headed ministers, she left the
capital with the benedictions of the hereditary priests, and journeyed
far and wide through many a strange country, visiting on her way some of
the most delightful hermitages of the venerable old _Rishis_, who were
absorbed in meditation.
Sometime after, while the king was attending to the duties of the State
and conversing with that renowned sage, Nárada, Sabitri with the
ministers returned home from her peregrination. The princess, seeing her
father talking with the great Rishi, Nárada, bowed her head down in
token of due homage to the venerable Rishi and her respected father. The
bustle consequent on the first interview after a long absence being
over, Nárada asked the king: "O monarch, where did your daughter go?
Whence is she now coming? It is high time that you should give her in
marriage to some noble prince worthy of her hand." The king replied, "O
revered Rishi, I sent her abroad with some of my wisest ministers in
quest of some noble prince, who, to a beautiful person should add all
the rarest gifts of wisdom, courage, piety and virtue; now hear from her
own mouth, how far she has succeeded in her sacred mission." So saying,
the king desired Sabitri to tell them whom she had chosen for her
husband. Sabitri, in obedience to her esteemed father's behest, thus
spoke in a tone becoming her age and sex. "Father, a pious king named
Dyumutsen once ruled the kingdom of Sala. A few days after his accession
he lost both his eyes and became totally blind. At that time, his only
child was in his infancy, quite incapable of conducting the affairs of
the kingdom. His treacherous enemies, taking advantage of his blindness
and the infancy of his child, invaded his kingdom and wrested it from
his hands. The dethroned king and his beloved queen with their infant
child betook themselves to a quiet life of contemplation in an adjacent
wood, renouncing all the pleasures of a wicked, ungrateful world. For
some years they passed their days in the sequestered wood amidst the
abodes of many revered sages, who took a special delight in imbuing the
nascent mind of the boy with the germs of moral and religious
instruction, promising a full development in maturer years. He was in
every way my equal, and him have I chosen as my worthy husband. His name
is Satyavana."
Hearing this, the hoary headed Rishi, Narada, thus addressed the
monarch. "O monarch, I am grieved to say that your daughter has been
unfortunate in her choice, in having thoughtlessly selected the virtuous
Satyavana as her husband." The king feelingly enquired: "O great Rishi,
are the noble qualities of valour, prudence, forgiveness, piety,
devotion, generosity, filial love and affection to be found in
Satyavana?" Narada answered, "Satyavana is Súrya's (sun's) equal in
matchless glory, is wise as Vrihashpati himself, brave and warlike as
Indra, mild and forgiving as Earth." The king asked: "Is the prince a
sincere worshipper of God, walking in the path of righteousness? Is he
beautiful, amiable and high-minded?" Narada replied, "O king, like
Ratideva, the son of Sankriti, the beautiful Satyavana, is generous;
like Sibi, the son of Usinara, he is a lover of God and Truth; and is as
high-minded as Yayáti; all the pious old Rishis and other good men
believe that Satyavana is brave, mild, meek, truthful, faithful to his
friends, magnanimous, pious, and sincere in devotion and earnestness."
The king again asked: "O venerable sage, you have named all the good
qualities that can ennoble humanity; be kind enough to inform me in what
he is wanting." "He has one great disqualification," said Narada, "which
is enough to outweigh all his virtues, his life upon earth is very
short, he is fated to live exactly one year from this day."
Hearing the fearful prophecy of Narada, the king tried his best to
dissuade his daughter from the fatal alliance, but all his efforts
proved unavailing. Sabitri, firm and constant in her plighted faith,
fearlessly replied that, despite the ominous prediction which is
suggestive of the appalling horrors of premature widowhood to the mind
of a Hindoo female, she could not retract her pledge and surrender her
heart to any other being upon earth.
Nárada then exclaimed; "O king, I see your daughter is true to her
promise, firm in her faith and constant in her love and attachment to
Satyavana. No one will be able to lead her astray from the path of
righteousness. Let the unrivalled pair, therefore, be united in the
sacred bond of wedlock." The king replied, "O great Rishi, unalterable
are your words; what you have now said is just and right. As you are my
_Gooroo_ (spiritual guide) I will do what you have ordered me to do."
"Heaven's choicest blessings be upon you all," said Narada, and
departed.
The king now directed his attention to the solemnisation of the nuptials
of his beloved daughter with becoming pomp and éclat.
The fair daughter of Aswapati was thus married in due form to Satyavana,
the son of the blind old king, Dyumutsen. For a while the happy pair
continued to enjoy all the blessings of conjugal life in their blissful
and retired cottage, remote from the busy throng of men and quite
congenial to religious meditation, though Sabitri knew full well, as
predestined by Bidhátá, that this short and transient happiness would be
soon followed by long and painful suffering which would very nigh
destroy them both.
Thus week after week and month after month rolled away, when at length
the prophetic day on which the terrible doom was to be pronounced upon
Satyavana drew nearer and nearer, and when Sabitri saw that there
remained only four days to complete the terrible year, perhaps the last
year of Satyavana's life, at the end of which the fatal torch of _Yama_
would appear before her beloved husband, her heart recoiled at the
idea. To avert the dreadful doom she undertook the performance of an
austere vow, which strictly enjoined three days of continuous fasting
and prayer, pouring forth at the feet of the Almighty all the fervours
of a devotional heart. Her father-in-law, Dyumutsen, though overwhelmed
by the surging wave of grief, endeavoured to dissuade her from
undertaking so trying a vow, but his admonition was quite ineffectual.
She persistently adhered to her resolution and calmly resigned herself
to the dispensations of a wise, and merciful Providence.
Mental conflict, internal perturbation, and continuous fasting made her
weak and emaciated, and the prophetic words of Narada incessantly
haunted her mind like some fatal vision. It is quite impossible to
describe the violent struggles that passed within her when that terrible
day at last arrived, and when the inevitable decree of fate by which her
dear husband should for ever cease to live would be fulfilled. After
bathing in the sacred stream she made burnt offerings to the gods and
prostrated herself on the ground, as a mark of profound homage to the
honoured feet of the old Rishis, and those of her revered father-in-law
and mother-in-law, who in return heartily pronounced their sincere
benedictions upon her. When the hour for dinner came, she was desired to
partake of some refreshment, especially after three days' continuous
fastings, but animated by a fervent spirit of devotion she declined to
take any food before sunset.
Presently she saw her husband going to the forest with his axe and a
bag, to procure fruits and dry wood. Sabitri begged to accompany him,
but from the prescience of imminent danger as well as from the warmth of
affection he would fain keep her at home, being assured that her tender
feet were not fitted to wander in the "brambly wilderness" in her
present enfeebled state of body; but regardless of all admonition she
thus exclaimed: "O my beloved Lord, I am not at all weary with fasting,
your very presence is my strongest support. I can never be happy without
you, so do not turn a deaf ear to the earnest entreaty of an already
disconsolate wife, whose fate is bound with yours in a gordian knot
which no earthly force can break or cut." Satyavana was at last
constrained to yield to her solicitations, and bade her take his father
and mother's permission before her departure. It was with the greatest
reluctance that their permission was given. Obtaining their benedictions
and being armed with the panoply of divine grace, the unhappy pair
quitted their sweet home for the dreary forest. On the way, Satyavana,
half conscious of what would soon befall him, addressed his loving wife
in the following affectionate words: "O dear Sabitri, behold how nature
smiles in all her beauty, how the fields are adorned with fragrant
flowers, shady groves, and a wide expanse of living verdure, how slowly
and smoothly runs the murmuring brook with soothing melody, how the
warblers of the forest pour forth their wild but sweet notes without
fear of molestation, how merrily the peacock is dancing, how cheerfully
the stag is frisking about, and above all, how the stillness of the
scene invites the mind to contemplation."
While Sabitri was attentively listening to her husband's descriptive
illustration of nature, her heart swelled in her throat, but her eyes
were not sullied with even one tear-drop. She continued to follow her
husband as a faithful, obedient wife.
At length they entered the forest, and Satyavana after having filled his
bag with various kinds of fruits began to cut with his axe the withered
branches of the trees. The effort soon overpowered him and he felt some
uneasy sensation about his head. He slowly walked down to his dear wife
and observed: "O much beloved Sabitri, suddenly I feel an acute headache
which, becoming more and more painful, makes me quite insensible and
almost breaks my heart. I cannot stand here any longer, but I trust by
the aid of balmy sleep, soon to regain my health and strength."
On hearing her husband's heart-rending words, she sat down upon the
ground and placed Satyavana's head upon her lap. But as fate had
ordained he soon became perfectly insensible. When Sabitri saw this, her
wonted presence of mind did not fail her; trusting, however, in the
boundless mercy of an overruling Providence, she calmly and composedly
waited for the ill-fated hour, when the shadow of death would hide for
ever her beloved Satyavana--a doom she was herself prepared to share.
Suddenly, after a short while, she believed she saw a grim figure,
clothed in red and resplendent with lustre like the sun, slowly
approaching her with a chain in his hand. This was not a figment of her
imagination. The veritable _Yama_ stood beside Satyavana and looked
steadfastly upon him.
No sooner did Sabitri see him than she, taking her husband's head from
her lap and placing it upon the ground, with trembling heart thus
addressed him. "God-like person, your heavenly form and majestic
appearance bespeak unmistakably that you are a god among gods. Vouchsafe
to unfold yourself and break your mind to me."
Yama replied; "O Sabitri, thou art chaste and constant in thy devotion
and meditation, I, therefore, feel no delicacy in satisfying your eager
inquiry. I am Yama (Pluto), I am come here for the purpose of carrying
away thy dead husband, as his days upon earth are numbered." To this,
Sabitri said, "O king, I have heard that your imps carry away the dead
bodies from the earth; why are you then come yourself?"
Yama replied, "O amiable Sabitri, while living, your excellent husband
possessed many good qualities and was justly remarkable for his
righteousness. It was improper, therefore, to have sent my imps to carry
him away. With this view I am come myself." So saying Yama forcibly
drew out the finger-shaped soul from Satyavana's body. Being deprived of
the vital spirit, the dead body became motionless, pale and pallid; and
Yama went towards the South. The chaste Sabitri, in order to obtain the
fruit of her vow, followed him with sad looks and a heavy heart. Seeing
this, Yama remonstrated with her and ordered her to return home and
perform the funeral obsequies of her husband. Sabitri said she would go
wherever her husband was carried, and that by her unceasing prayer to
the Almighty, by her firm faith in her spiritual guide, by the solemn
fulfilment of her sacred vow, and by his (Yama's) grace, her course
would be free and unrestrained. "O king of the infernal regions," said
she, "kindly deign to lend a listening ear to a suppliant's prayer. He
that has not obtained a complete mastery over his senses should not come
to the forest to lead there either a domestic life, or a student's life,
or the life of a devotee. Those who have effectually controlled their
passions are fit to fulfil the necessary conditions of the four
different modes of life. Of these four modes, the domestic life is
decidedly the best, being most favourable to the acquisition of
knowledge and wisdom, and to the cultivation of piety and virtue.
Persons like myself do not desire to lead any other than a domestic
life."
"Now return home, O fair Sabitri; I am much pleased with your wise
observations; I am willing to grant you any boon save the life of your
husband," exclaimed Yama. Sabitri replied, "O king, be graciously
pleased to restore eyesight to my blind father-in-law, and make him
powerful as the Sun or the Fire, that he may be enabled to regain his
kingdom and rule it with vigour." Yama granted the boon, and directed
her to return home after the fatiguing journey. Sabitri answering said,
"O virtuous king, I feel no trouble or fatigue while I am with my
husband, for a husband is the strength and stay of his wife, and the
wife is the sharer of her husband's weal or woe:
The wife, where danger or dishonor lurks,
Safest and seemliest by her husband stays,
Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.
"Wherever, therefore, you carry my husband, my footsteps will dog you
thither. Our very first intercourse with the good and the righteous
leads to the growth of confidence and kindly feeling, which is always
productive of the most beneficial results." Whereupon Yama replied, "O
thoughtful lady, thy words are agreeable to my heart; they are fraught
with meaning and good sense. I shall willingly grant you another boon
save the life of your husband." "Allow me, then, O virtuous king, to ask
for a hundred begotten sons to my father, who has no son," said Sabitri.
"I grant the boon," said Yama, "now that all your wishes have been
consummated, do not continue to follow me any longer. You are far away
from your father-in-law's cottage; return home at once."
Sabitri replied, "O virtuous king, we are apt to repose more confidence
in the righteous than in ourselves; their kindness amply requites our
love and regard." Yama said, "I am very much satisfied with your
edifying speech, and am disposed to grant you another boon." Sabitri
feeling grateful for the several boons granted unto her, presumed this
time to ask for the resurrection of her husband as well as for the birth
from them of a hundred powerful, wise and virtuous sons, to be the glory
of the country and the ornament of society.
"Be it so," said Yama cheerfully and disappeared.
It is obvious that the fertile imagination of the hereditary priests of
Hindoosthan, who, from their traditional mental abstraction, delighted
more in the concoction of legendary lore than of the solid, sober
realities of life, invented the above Brata or vow, mainly for the
consolation of ignorant females, to avert the hardships of widowhood,
than which a more unmitigated evil is not to be found in the domestic
economy of the Hindoos. The unhallowed institution of the immolation of
widows alive, was primarily traceable to the dread of this terrible
calamity, which preyed, as it were, on the vitals of humanity. Hence the
performance of this Brata is the culminating point of meritorious work
in popular estimation, promising to the performer the perpetual
enjoyment of connubial happiness, which is more valued by a Hindoo
female than all the riches of Golconda.
It is annually celebrated in the Bengalee month of Joysto both by widows
and by women whose husbands are alive, by the former, in the hope of
averting the evil in another life, by the latter, in the expectation of
continuing to enjoy conjugal bliss both in this world and the next.
On the celebration of this Brata on the fourteenth night of the decrease
of the moon, the husband, being dressed in clean new clothes, is made to
sit on a carpet, the wife, previously washing and drying his feet, puts
round his neck a garland of flowers and worships him with sandal and
flowers, wrestling hard in prayer for his prolonged life. This being
done, she provides for him a good dinner, consisting of different kinds
of fruits, sweetmeats, sweet and sour milk and ghee-fried _loochees_,
&c. It should be mentioned here that a widowed lady offers the same
homage to the god, Naraian, in the place of a husband.
The usual incantation is read by the priest, and she repeats it
inaudibly, the substance being in harmony with her cherished desire. He
gets his usual fee of two or four rupees and all the offerings in rice,
fruits, sweetmeats, clothes, brass utensils, &c. If not dead, a woman
has to perform this Brata regularly for fourteen long years, at the end
of which the expense is tenfold more, in clothes, beddings, brass
utensils, and an entertainment to Brahmins, friends and neighbours, than
in the ordinary previous years.
Besides the Bratas described above, there are many others of more or
less note, which are annually observed by vast numbers of females, who,
from their early religious tendencies, seem to enjoy a monopoly of them.
It is, however, a singular fact that the primary object of all these
religious vows is the possession of all sorts of worldly happiness,
seldom supplemented by a desire of endless blessedness hereafter. This
is unquestionably a lamentable desideratum in the original conception
and design of the popular Hindoo Shastras, clearly demonstrating its
superficiality and poverty.
APPENDIX.
NOTE A.
OBSERVANCES AND RITES DURING PREGNANCY.
From the period of conception a woman is enjoined by way of precaution,
to live under certain rules and restrictions, the observance of which is
to ensure a safe delivery as well as the safety of the offspring. She is
not allowed to put on clothes over which birds of the air have flown,
lest their return might prolong the period of her delivery. She fastens
a knot to one end of the _Achal_ of her _Saree_[128] and keeps it tied
about her waist, and spits on her breast once a day before washing her
body, and is not allowed to sit or walk in the open compound in order to
avoid evil spirits; as a safeguard against their inroads, she constantly
wears in the knot of her hair a slender reed five inches long.
When in a state of pregnancy, a Hindoo female is treated with peculiar
care, tenderness and affection. She is generally brought from her
father-in-law's house to that of her father, where all the members of
the family shew her the greatest love lest she should not survive the
throes of childbirth. Indeed the first childbirth of a young Hindoo girl
is justly considered a struggle between life and death. As a religious
safeguard and guarantee for safe delivery, she is made to wear round her
neck a small _Madoolee_ (a very small casket made of gold, silver, or
copper), containing some flowers previously consecrated to _Baba
Thacoor_[129] and to drink daily until her delivery a few drops of holy
water after touching it with the _Madoolee_.
It is perhaps generally known that a Hindoo girl is married between 9
and 12 years of age--an age when her European sister would not even
dream of being united in the bonds of wedlock; and the natural
consequence is, she becomes a mother at thirteen or fourteen years. An
eminent writer who had studied the subject carefully thus remarks: "Till
their thirteenth year, they are stout and vigorous; but after that
period, they alter much faster than the women in any of the nations of
Europe." Her tender age, her sedentary life, her ignorance of the laws
of hygiene, the common dread of childbirth, the want of proper midwives
as well as of timely medical aid (should any be necessary), conspire
sometimes to cause an untimely death. She must continue to observe many
precautions until her accouchement is completed.
In the fifth month of her pregnancy takes place her _Kacha Shád_.[130]
The day must be an auspicious one according to Hindoo astrologers, and
she is treated that day with special indulgence, inasmuch as all the
delicacies of the season are given to her without restriction. In the
seventh month she is treated with _Bhájá Shád_, when she eats with a few
other females (whose husbands and children are all alive) all sorts of
parched peas and rice as well as _Methais_ and other sweetmeats; in the
ninth month, the _Paunchámrita_[131] ceremony is held, when she is made
to wear a red-bordered _Akhanda_ Saree (a piece of cloth ten cubits long
with the edges uncut), which is preserved with the greatest care lest
any jealous and mischievous woman who has lost her children, should
clandestinely cut and take away a portion of the same, which is
considered a very portentous omen for the preservation of the new born
babe.
On the celebration of _Paunchámrita_ above mentioned the officiating
priest, after repeating the usual incantation, pours into her mouth a
little of the delicacies, without the same coming in contact with her
teeth. She is forbidden to eat anything else that day except fruits and
sweetmeats; and then a good day is appointed for the celebration of the
grand final _Shád_, when all the female relatives and connections of the
family are invited. In Calcutta, Hindoo females of respectability are
not permitted to be seen, much less to walk in the streets; they live in
a state of perfect seclusion, entirely apart from the male members of
the family, it being considered a very great disgrace should a
respectable female be in any way exposed to public gaze. The very
construction of a Hindoo family dwelling house clearly indicates the
prevalence of the close zenana system; the inmates must have an inner
and an outer apartment, there must be an inclosed court-yard reached by
tortuous passages, closed by low constructed doors, through which one
has to wriggle rather than to walk; the sun seldom shines into it; small
contracted staircases, foul confined air, no circulation or ventilation
are the result: the noxious effluvia evaporating from this or that side
of the house, especially from the lower floor, is a nuisance which the
inmates put up with, with scarcely any complaint. The drainage and
water works have certainly effected considerable improvement towards the
promotion of cleanliness, but still the dirty and filthy state of most
of the family dwelling houses is a notorious fact. By a small door only
there exists a communication between the inner and outer apartment;
should the house be a small one, say from three to four _cottahs_, which
is generally the case in such a crowded city as Calcutta, and should the
women talk loud enough to be heard by men outside, they are not only
instantly checked but severely reprimanded for the liberty. The great
privacy of the close zenana system is, however, broken by females being
obliged to travel in a Railway carriage: though Hindoos of rank,
whenever they have occasion to go on pilgrimage by Rail, generally
engage a reserved compartment for the females, yet they cannot manage to
preserve absolute privacy when going into or coming out of the carriage
at the Railway Stations.
To return to the grand final _Shád_, on the day appointed an awning is
put up over the court-yard of the house. _Palkees_ are sent to each of
the families invited; and the guests (nearest female relatives) begin to
come in from ten in the morning; a general spirit of hilarity prevails
on all sides, noise and bustle ensue, the women are busy in receiving
their guests, preparations are being made for the grand feast, the men
outside direct the _Palkee_ bearers where next to go, the little
children have their own share of juvenile frolic, the young damsels and
the aged matrons are seen speaking to their respective friends with
mutual love, affection and confidence; and signs of joviality and
conviviality are seen every where. It is on such occasions that women
unbosom themselves to each other, and freely and unreservedly
communicate their feelings, their thoughts, their wishes, nay their
secrets to friends of congenial spirit and temper; their conversation
knows no end, their amiable loveliness almost spontaneously developes
itself; they unburden their minds of the heavy load of accumulated
thoughts; their joys and sorrows, their happiness and misery, their
sympathy and emotion, pleasurable or painful, have their full scope. If
they are naturally garrulous they become more so at such a jovial
assemblage, so that one can dive deepest down into their hearts on such
an occasion. Many a matrimonial match is proposed and matured at such
meetings, and to crown the whole, sisters of kindred spirit embrace each
other with all the warmth of genuine love and affection. If their minds
are contracted by reason of scanty culture, their hearts are full of
affection, sympathy and susceptibility, which cannot fail to exercise a
beneficial influence on human nature.
On such occasions, females are allowed to have some amusement or
_támáshá_, according to their liking, (but of course not such as betrays
a vitiated taste, overstepping the bounds of decorum, which was the case
some years back). Dancing girls and _Panchálleys_ are entertained, who
contribute not a little to the amusement of the assembled guests.
Immured within the walls of a close zenana they are seldom suffered to
enjoy such unrestrained liberty. Otto of roses, rose water out of gold
or silver pots, nosegays, and _paun_ or betel are freely distributed
among them. They sit on benches or chairs, or squat down barefooted on
_forash bichana_ (a clean white sheet), and enjoy the _támáshá_ to their
hearts' content. These amusements continue till evening, entertaining
the guests with songs on gods and goddesses (Doorga, Krishna and his
mistress, Rádhá): those relating to Doorga have a reference to the ill
treatment she experienced at the hands of her parents, but those
pertaining to Krishna and Rádhá tell of his juvenile frolics with his
mother and the milk-maids, and amorous songs on disappointed love,
which, though they may appear harmless to their worshippers, have
nevertheless a partial tendency to debase the minds of females. By way
of encouragement, the singing and dancing girls receive, besides their
hire, presents of money, clothes and shawls, according to the
circumstances of the parties retaining them. To do our women justice,
however, it is pleasing to reflect that the progress of enlightenment
has of late years wrought a salutary change in their minds. Instead of
the former _Kabees_ (songs) which were shamefully characterised by the
worst species of obscenity and immorality, they have imbibed a taste for
more sober and refined entertainments. Moral and intellectual
improvement amongst perfectly secluded females is a sure harbinger of
national regeneration. The young and the sprightly, as is naturally to
be expected, enjoy these amusements most; but the more elderly and
thoughtful females make the best of the opportunity in conversation
about domestic affairs with those of their own age and kinship. They
have certainly no distaste for these frivolous entertainments, but the
thoughts and cares of home press more heavily on their minds. Age and
experience have taught them to regard the enjoyment of unalloyed
domestic felicity as the chief end of life. A good Hindoo housewife is a
model of moral excellence.
About four o'clock in the afternoon, when almost all the guests are
assembled together, long parallel rows of _pirays_, or wooden seats, the
one quite apart from the other--are arranged in straight lines in the
court-yard, in the midst of which is placed the seat of the pregnant
girl, which, by way of distinction, is painted white with rice paste
(_álpáná_) with appropriate devices. Adorned with ornaments of
glittering gold, bedecked with precious stones, and dressed in an
embroidered Benares _Saree_, she walks gracefully towards her particular
seat, which is a signal for others (widows excepted) to follow; they all
squat down on the wooden seats, before which are placed small pieces of
green plantain leaves and a few little earthen plates and a cup, which
are intended to serve the purposes of plates and glasses. Before her
stands a light, a _conch_ is sounded, and a rupee with which her
forehead is touched is kept for the gods, for safe delivery. Fruits of
different kinds, about fifteen or sixteen sorts of sweetmeats,
_loochee_, _kachoory_, _papur_ (flour fried with ghee) in the shape of
_cháppátees_, vegetable curries of several kinds, sweet and sour milk,
are provided for the guests, the female relatives of the girl serving as
stewards. No adult male member of the family is allowed to assist in the
feast, because Hindoo females blush to eat before men. Being most
pre-eminent in point of caste, Brahmin women are served _first_. Here
the rules of caste are strictly observed, and no departure therefrom is
tolerated. It is not uncommon that uninvited females, or more properly
speaking, intruders contrive by some means or other, to mix with the
company; but they are soon singled out by the more shrewd and
experienced, and to their chagrin and disappointment, instantly removed
from their seats. They do not, however, go away with curses on their
lips, but receive a few things and are ordered to leave the house
without a _Palkee_.[132]
After the feast is over, the women, washing their hands and mouths,
express their good wishes for the safe delivery of the girl, and make
preparations for returning home. Here confusion and bustle ensue
consequent on the simultaneous desire of all to return home _first_, and
as the sun begins to set, their anxiety becomes more intense to see the
faces of their absent children; laying aside their wonted modesty, some
of them almost unblushingly make a rush and enter the _first Palkee_
that comes in their way, regardless alike of their sex and the rules of
decorum. If 100 families are invited, about ten _Palkees_ are retained.
Hackney carriages are sometimes substituted in place of _Palkees_, but
whatever arrangements are made it is next to impossible to satisfy at
least 200 people at one and the same time. The guests are never expected
to find their own conveyances. Before coming, some of them keep the
Palanquin waiting for an hour or so, while they are engaged at their
toilet and adorning their persons with divers ornaments. It is not
unfrequently the case on such occasions that females in poor
circumstances borrow ornaments from their more prosperous friends, in
order to appear in society to the best advantage. In the absence of
mental accomplishments, Hindoo ladies necessarily set a high value on
the jewels about their persons. Some twenty years back, massive articles
of gold were considered the most _recherché_ ornaments, so much so that
some rich ladies were adorned with gold articles alone to the weight of
6 or 7 lbs.; to an English lady, this might appear incredible, but it is
a fact which does not admit of any contradiction. Hindoo females are
religiously forbidden to wear gold ornaments about their feet, it being
considered a mark of disrespect to _Lukxmee_ (goddess of prosperity,)
hence they put on pairs of solid massive silver _malls_ or anklets,
weighing sometimes about 3 lbs.; though such massive articles are a
great incumbrance to the free motion of the limbs, they are nevertheless
used with great pleasure. Indeed it has been sarcastically remarked that
were a Hindoo lady offered a gold _grindstone_ to wear round her neck,
weighing some 20 lbs. she would gladly accept the offer and go through
the ordeal. But as the spread of English education has improved the
minds of the people, it has likewise improved their taste; instead of
massive gold ornaments, ladies of the present day prefer those of
delicate diamond cut workmanship, set with pearls and precious stones
such as _chick_, _sittahaur_, _táráháur_, _seetee_, _tabij_, _bajoo_,
_jasum_, _nabaruttun taga_, bracelets of six or seven patterns, and
ear-rings of three or four kinds, for which girls in very early youth
perforate their ears in 8 or 10 places, as also their noses in two
places. By their choice of the modern ornaments they shew their
preference for elegance to mere weight. Brilliant Pearl necklaces[133]
of from seven to nine rows, and costly bijouteries of modern style,
have superseded the old-fashioned solid gold _Bhawootees_ and _Taurs_. A
rich lady is sometimes seen with jewellery worth 15,000 to 20,000 Rupees
and upwards; as a matter of course, such a lady is the cynosure of all
eyes, and the rest of the company move as satellites round the primary
planet. Conscious of her superiority in this respect and puffed up with
vanity she disdains to hold converse with her less fortunate sisters.
She is tramping, as it were, "to the tinkling sound of the ornaments of
gold and gems on her person." As the grand centre of attraction, her
gait, her gestures, her movements form the subject of general criticism,
and as an object of envy she continues to be talked of even after the
return of the guests to their homes.
In the villages, however, silver ornaments are more in vogue than gold
ones, simply because the rural population have neither the taste nor the
means of the people of the city. As a rule, the Hindoos invest their
savings in gold and silver which is turned to good account in times of
need and distress. Throughout Hindoosthan, the people have so great a
_penchant_ for gold and silver ornaments that not only women but men
also adorn their persons with solid articles of sterling gold. I have
seen Setts (shroffs) and Malgoozars go about with ornaments of
considerable value; their dress, however, is generally exceedingly
tawdry, and bears no correspondence to the worth of the articles of gold
they carry about. I once weighed a solid pure gold chain worn by a Sett
round his waist, which the natives call _Gote_, weighing over 4 lbs.,
worth about 3,000 Rupees.
In Bengal little children are seen with gold ornaments on their
persons[134] till they are 6 years of age, but adults are entirely free
from this passion. When a male child is born to a respectable Hindoo,
the heart of the mother irresistibly yearns to adorn its person with
ornaments, especially at the time of _vath_ (christening), _i. e._, at 6
months of age for a male and 7 months for a female child.
When the females return home after the entertainment, it is truly a
scene of "sorry to part, happy to meet again." It is seldom that such
opportunities are afforded them to give free vent to their feelings,
thoughts and wishes;--a human being always feels unhappy at living in a
perfectly isolated state; he or she naturally longs for society, and
this longing is alike manifest in both sexes. The greater the restraint,
as in the case of Hindoo ladies, the stronger the desire for social
intercourse. Can a zenana Hindoo lady with her veiled modesty suppress
the impulse to look about through the shutters of a closed Palkee, with
guards on both sides, in the light of day? The impulse is by no means a
criminal one but is prompted by the irresistible influence of nature.
The parting exclamation on such occasions is, "Sister, when shall I have
the good fortune to see you again?" "Why, not before long," is the
common reply. The consummation of the desire, if long deferred,
naturally produces feelings of discontent. A few days after the feast
the families that were invited, give a tangible proof of their regard
for the pregnant girl by making her presents of clothes and sweetmeats
according to their respective circumstances, as a matter of course the
nearest relatives making the richest presents.
FOOTNOTES:
[128] A Saree is a piece of cloth, 5 yards long with colored borders.
[129] A Hindoo god generally kept by the lower orders of the people,
such as _Domes_, _Cháráls_ and _Bagthees_.
[130] _Kacha_ means raw; the term _Shád_ is synonymous with desire. The
ceremony is so called from the female being allowed that day to eat all
kinds of native pickles, preserves, sweetmeats, confectionery, several
kinds of fruits then in season, sweet and sour milk, &c., but not rice
or any sort of food grains. Her desire is gratified, lest the girl
should not survive the childbirth. It should be mentioned here that from
the second month of her pregnancy, she feels a great longing to eat
Páthkholá (a sort of half burnt very thin earthen cake) which pregnant
girls relish very much on account of its peculiar _sodha_ flavour.
[131] _Paunchámrita_ means five kinds of delicacies, the food of the
gods, consisting of milk ghee (clarified butter), dhahie (curded milk),
cowdung and honey.
[132] A rather contemptible practice still lurks in the Hindoo community
at the time of dining on such public occasions. The females for the most
part place a portion of the dinner aside for the sake of carrying it
home for their absent children; even a rich woman feels no hesitation or
humiliation in following the example of her less fortunate sisters. We
can only account for this unseemly practice on the supposition that the
Hindoo ladies do not like to partake of good things without sharing them
with their beloved children at home. The wish is not an unnatural one
but the practice most unquestionably _is_. In making provision for a
grand feast, the Hindoos are obliged to treble the quantity of food for
the number of guests invited, specially when it is a _pucca jalpan_,
consisting of _loochees_ and _sundeshes_ (sweetmeats). If they invite
100 families they must provide for about 300 persons, for the reasons
specified above. It is a pity that in a matter of public entertainment
both males and females cannot resist the temptation of appropriating a
portion of the food to other than the legitimate purpose. Here feminine
modesty is violated by infringing the ordinary rules of etiquette.
[133] That the Hindoos have, for a long time, manifested a strong
passion for ornaments, is a historical fact. Even so far back as the
Mahratta dynasty, it was said of Dowlut Rao Sindhia that "his necklaces
were gorgeous, consisting of many rows of Pearls, as large as small
marbles, strung alternately with emeralds". The Pearl (_moti_) was his
passion and the necklace was constantly undergoing change whenever a
finer bead was found; the title of "Lord of a hundred Provinces" was far
less esteemed by him than that of _motiwalla_ the "Man of Pearls," by
which he was commonly designated in his Camp. It was perhaps a sight of
this description that led Macaulay to say--"Our plain English coats
command more respect than all the gorgeous orient pearl of the East,"
indicating thereby the involuntary awe of savage for civilized life.
[134] Such as _Bore_, _Komurpatta_, _Nimfull_, _Neyboofull_, _Ghoomur_
round the waist, _Tabeej_, _Bajoo_, _Balla_, _Jasum_, _Taga_, &c. on the
hands, pearl and gold necklaces of various sorts and gold mohurs or
sovereigns strung together in the shape of a necklace.
NOTE B.
THE GODDESS SOOBACHINEE.
The following is the story of this goddess:--In a certain village there
lived a poor Brahmin boy, whose poverty was well-known throughout the
neighbourhood. One day a fisherman came to sell some fish, on seeing
which the boy began to cry for them. His mother, a poor aged widow,
though very desirous to satisfy the craving of her son, had
unfortunately no means to buy them, whereupon the fisherwoman affected
by the cries of the boy, offered to give her credit and said she would
come for the price on her way home. Meantime the mother cooked the fish;
but before her son had time to eat them, the fisherwoman, according to
her promise, returned for the price. The old woman being still unable to
pay, the fish vendor demanded the return of the fish, which, though
cooked, she was willing to take back. This being done, the boy, however,
had the advantage of tasting the soup made of the fishes and was so much
pleased with the taste of animal food that he could not resist the
temptation of stealing one day a _lame_ duck belonging to the king, and
eating it privately. Investigation being made, the theft was traced to
the poor Brahmin boy, who being summoned before the king, was tried,
convicted and sentenced to be imprisoned, at which the mother became
inconsolable. Seeing her distress and despondency, the goddess Doorga,
in the form of _Soobachinee_, appeared to her in a dream, and, giving
her hopes of consolation and better luck for the future, eventually
advised her to perform the worship of the goddess _Soobachinee_. In
obedience to the above injunction, she did as she was directed.
Seventeen ducks made of rice-paste (sixteen with two perfect legs and
one with a lame leg) formed a part of the ceremony. After the
performance of the worship and the expiatory rite of _homa_ (burnt
offering) which expiates all sin, the holy water being sprinkled on the
feathers of the stolen _lame_ duck, that were concealed under the ashes,
the devoured duck was at once restored to life and sent back to the
king's poultry-yard. The miraculous resuscitation of the duck was
brought to the notice of the king, who immediately sent for the poor old
woman and questioned her how the dead _lame_ duck was made alive again;
the old woman, trembling through fear, related all the particulars about
the appearance of the goddess in a dream. The king, being satisfied as
to the truth of the tale, ordered the captive boy to be released at once
and brought to his presence, concluding that the goddess must have been
very propitious to the old woman and her son. Consulting his ministers
on the subject, he said within himself he could not have a better match
for his daughter, who was of marriageable age, than the late delinquent.
So the nuptials were duly solemnized with becoming pomp, and the poor
Brahman family lived ever after in a state of great affluence and
happiness. Hindoo ladies of the orthodox school learn this tale almost
in their nursery, and feel a peculiar delight in reciting it on certain
occasions.
NOTE C.
The writings of the ancient Hindoo sages, as handed down to us by
history and tradition, incontestably prove that they were chiefly
theists; but as their religious ideas were supremely transcendental, ill
suited to the comprehension of the great mass of the people, and
consequently not adapted to bring joy, peace and rest to the mind, their
descendants learnt to modify those ideas and practically reduce them to
the level of the popular understanding. They gradually created a
Trinity, _i. e._, the Creator, the Preserver, and the Destroyer. But as
this triad was not sufficiently attractive or intelligible to the
unlettered mass, who wanted something in the shape of real, tangible
personification of the deity, in place of indistinct, invisible
supernatural beings, a designing priesthood subsequently attempted to
satisfy their wishes by foisting upon them a whole rabble of gods and
goddesses, which are almost as innumerable as the pebbles on the sea
shore. In numerical strength the Pantheon of the Hindoos far surpasses
that of the Egyptians, Greeks, and the Romans. What ancient system of
mythology contained so many as 330 million gods and goddesses? As in
mythology, so in chronology, the Hindoos stand unrivalled. Their
pantheon is as capacious and extensive as their antiquity[135] is
unfathomable and prehistoric. The origin of the Puranic mythology is to
be attributed to this national predilection; and the worship of the
female deities with bloody sacrifices is intended to terrify the
ignorant populace into superstitious beliefs still grosser than were
habitual to them.
The antiquity of the Brahminical creed and of the religious systems
incorporated into, and engrafted on it, has long been a subject of
interesting inquiry. It is not my intention to go into the subject more
deeply than merely to affirm that it is still a debatable point among
the most distinguished orientalists, whether or not the Egyptians and
Greeks borrowed their system of mythology from that of the Hindoos, and
afterwards improved on it by divesting it of the grosser excrescences.
The character of the Hindoo deities is more or less puerile, impure and
ungodly, not possessing any of the cardinal virtues, such as become the
living and true God. Desiring to steer clear of such deformities and
impurities, the Greeks and Romans consecrated separate temples to
"Virtue, Truth, Piety, Chastity, Clemency, Mercy, Justice, Faith, Hope
and Liberty."
It is a remarkable fact, says Ward, that "the sceptical part of mankind
have always been partial to heathenism. Voltaire, Gibbon, Hume &c. have
been often charged with a strong partiality for the Grecian and Roman
idolatries; and many Europeans in India are suspected of having made
large strides towards heathenism. Even Sir William Jones, whose
recommendation of the Holy Scripture (found in his Bible after his
death,) has been so often and so deservedly quoted, it is said, to
please his Pundit, was accustomed to study the Shastras with the image
of a Hindoo god placed on his table; and his fine metrical translations
of idolatrous hymns are known to every lover of verse. In the same
spirit, we observe, that figures and allusions to the ancient idolatries
are retained in almost all modern poetical compositions and even in some
Christian writings."
It has been very wisely remarked by a philosophical traveller, Dr.
Clarke, that "by a proper attention to the vestiges of ancient
superstition, we are sometimes enabled to refer a whole people to their
original ancestors, with as much, if not more certainty, than by
observations made upon their language; because the superstition is
engrafted on the stock, but the language is liable to change." Writing
on the same subject, Sir William Jones remarks, "if the festivals of the
old Greeks, Persians, Romans, Egyptians and Goths, could be arranged
with exactness in the same form with the Indian, there would be found a
striking resemblance among them; and an attentive comparison of them
all, might throw great light on the religion, and perhaps on the
history, of the primitive world."
The Egyptians described the source of the Nile as flowing from Osiris;
so the Hindoos represent the holy stream of the Ganges as flowing from
the head of Iswara, which Sir William Jones so beautifully describes in
his hymn to Ganga:
"Above the reach of mortal ken,
On blest Coelasa's top, where every stem
Flowed with a vegetable gem,
Mahasa stood, the dread and joy of men;
While Párvati, to gain a boon,
Fixed on his locks a beamy moon,
And hid his frontal eye in jocund play,
With reluctant sweet delay;
All nature straight was locked in dim eclipse,
Till Brahmins pure, with hallowed lips
And warbled prayers restored the day,
When Ganga from his brow, with heavenly fingers free,
Sprang radiant, and descending, graced the caverns of the west."
For composing such fine metrical translations of idolatrous hymns, Mr.
Foster finds fault with the conduct of Sir William Jones: he writes, "I
could not help feeling a degree of regret, in reading lately the Memoirs
of the admirable and estimable Sir William Jones. Some of his researches
in Asia have no doubt incidentally served the cause of religion; but did
he think the least possible direct service had been rendered to
Christianity, that his accomplished mind was left at leisure for hymns
to the Hindoo gods? Was not this a violation even of neutrality, and an
offence, not only against the gospel, but against theism itself? I know
what may be said about personification, license of poetry, and so on,
but should not a worshipper of God hold himself under a solemn
obligation to abjure all tolerance of even poetical figures that can
seriously seem, in any way whatever, to recognise the pagan divinities
or abominations, as the prophets of Jehovah would have called them? What
would Elijah have said to such an employment of talents? It would have
availed little to have told him, that these divinities were only
personifications (with their appropriate representative idols) of
objects in nature, of elements, or of abstractions. He would have
sternly replied--'And was not Baal, whose prophets I destroyed, the
same?'"
Dr. Stiles, President of Yale College in North America, was so highly
impressed with the amazing antiquity of the Hindoo Shastras that he
wrote to Sir William Jones, asking him to make a search among the
Hindoos for the Adamic books. Had he not been a sincere Christian, he
would have asked Sir William to send him a translation of a book written
some two or three millions of years ago.
General Stewart, who lived in Wood Street, Calcutta, was said to have
made a large collection of Hindoo idols, which he arranged in the
portico of his house. He was so fond of them that, it was said, a
Brahmin was engaged to perform the daily worship, while he himself led
the life of a Hindoo _rishi_ or saint, inasmuch as he totally abstained
from the use of either wine or meat.
Such instances of partiality on the part of enlightened Christians
towards heathenism, we do not see in the present day. In the early times
of the British settlement in India, there was a strong mania for
exploring the untrodden field of Braminical learning, and the
unfathomable antiquity in which it was imbedded. The philosophical
theories of the _Munees_ and _Rishis_, their sublime conceptions
concerning the origin of the world and the unity of God, their utter
indifference to worldly concerns and sensual gratifications, their
living in sequestered _áshrums_, the practice of religious austerities,
the subjugation of passions, and above all, their pure, devotional
spirit, lent an enchantment to their teachings, which was, in the
highest degree, fascinating. It was not an ordinary phenomenon in the
annals of the human intellect that Europeans, possessing all the
advantages of modern civilization, should go so far as to entertain a
sort of religious veneration for a system of polytheism, which even the
natives of the country now-a-days denounce as puerile and absurd. Deeper
researches have, however, subsequently dissipated the delusion, and
thrown on the subject a great body of light, which the progress of
Western knowledge is daily increasing.
FOOTNOTES:
[135] Such as _Bore_, _Komurpatta_, _Nimfull_, _Neyboofull_, _Ghoomur_
round the waist, _Tabeej_, _Bajoo_, _Balla_, _Jasum_, _Taga_, &c. on the
hands, pearl and gold necklaces of various sorts and gold mohurs or
sovereigns strung together in the shape of a necklace.
NOTE D.
THE BÁMÁCHÁREE FOLLOWERS OF KALI.
In some parts of Bengal and Assam, there still exists a sect of Hindoos,
known by the name of _Bámáchárees_, or the followers of the female
energy, who practise a series of _Poornabishaka_ orgies in the name of
this celestial goddess which are nothing less than abominable. The
following is a rough programme of the rite. The Brahmin who is to
perform the ceremony sits upon a sham image of the goddess in a private
room, having beside him at the same time a quantity of flowers, red
sandal paste, holy water, copper pans, plantain and other fruits, green
plantain leaves, parched peas, cooked fish and flesh, and a certain
quantity of spirituous liquor. When night approaches he takes the
disciple who is to be initiated into the room, with nine females and
nine males of different castes, with one female for himself and another
for the disciple, and makes them all sit down on the floor. Taking up a
small copper pan and a little of the holy water, he sprinkles it on all
present and then proceeds with closed eyes to repeat a solemn
incantation to the following effect: "O goddess, descend and vouchsafe
thy blessings to Horomohun (the name of the devotee) who has hitherto
groped in the dark, not knowing what thou art; these offerings are all
at thy service"; saying this, he whispers in his ear the root of the
_mantra_. From that time the goddess becomes his guardian deity. The
Brahmin Gooroo then goes through divers other formulas, pausing for a
while to serve and distribute liquor in a human skull or cocoanut shell
to all the devotees, himself setting the example first. He next desires
the females to lay aside their clothes, and bids his new disciple adore
them as the living personifications of the goddess. Eating and drinking
now go on freely, the males taking what is left by the females. Towards
the close of the ceremony, the disciple, baptised in liquor, makes
presents of clothes and money to the priest and all the men and women
present. It is easy to conceive what sort of devotional spirit is evoked
by the performance of these abominable orgies. Happily for the interests
of morality in this country, the sect is nearly extinct, except in the
most obscure parts of Assam and Bengal.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes: Obvious printer errors have been corrected.
Many words are not consistently accented, as in "chárpoy" and "charpoy",
"Basarghur" and "Básurghur", Shrad and Shrád. They have been left as is.
Both "labour" and "labor" appear.
Page 300 right double quote supplied: Even so far back as the
Mahratta dynasty, it was said of Dowlut Rao Sindhia that "his necklaces
were gorgeous, consisting of many rows of Pearls, as large as small
marbles, strung alternately with emeralds.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Hindoos as they Are, by Shib Chunder Bose
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