[Ill.u.s.tration: _The ghat at Cawnpore_]

Christmas without the usual morning service seemed peculiar, but the law of the majority in our party prevailed, and we drove instead to the Fort and Residency, the centre of interest since 1857. The awe and solemnity inspired by that visit, with the Christmas bells ever and anon breaking the silence, can never be forgotten. The Residency is situated in the centre of a large park which was the scene of a siege lasting from July 1 to November 17, 1857, three thousand men, women, and children, besides the military, being there for safety. The number of refugees was reduced to one thousand by September; the large rooms on the ground floor of the Government building, with two stories above and extensive subterranean rooms, made their stay possible, but involved great suffering and horrible death as the siege went on. The large banquet hall of the Residency near by was converted into a hospital. Both buildings are now in ruins. But the roofless Residency with a tangle of vines (and a decrepit stairway that leads upward) furnishes a fine view of the whole scene, which in its very quietness bespeaks bravery, endurance, and heroic suffering.

The buildings of Lucknow are not important, with the exception of the Jumma Musjid, the great Imambara with its fine gateway, court, and arcades. The Imambara Mosque has two minarets, and the great Imambara Hall, one hundred and sixty-three by fifty-three feet and forty-nine feet high, is one of the largest vaulted galleries in the world. The palaces of the late king of Oudh, the clock tower and other mosques and tombs, were visited, for, as usual, the persistent guide insisted on our seeing all the "sights" (exaggerating the descriptions, it always seemed, in proportion to their lack of importance), and it was "Memsahib this" and "Memsahib that." Christmas Day, with a June temperature, soon came to a close; the dinner was somewhat English in its many appointments, with its roast beef and plum pudding,--other home touches being added by our ever-thoughtful Director. There was good cheer, but we silently thought of home and the friends far away.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The Residency at Lucknow_]

BENARES, _December 26th_: Benares is the sacred city of India, and the river Ganges with the ghats is the point where thousands upon thousands of worshippers congregate, coming from every point where Hinduism prevails. We had antic.i.p.ated revolting scenes, and were not disappointed, as the superst.i.tion of the devotees, the grasping conduct of the priests, and the disgusting practices in the name of so-termed religion all contributed to that end. We arrived during the afternoon of December 26th, going to the Hotel de Paris. A drive was instantly proposed, and we were taken to the Maharaja's palace, with grounds laid out conventionally, the trees and shrubs representing peac.o.c.ks and animals of different kinds. The palace was s.p.a.cious but tawdrily furnished; it is noteworthy as being the home to which the Maharaja and his family repair whenever they feel the approach of death; there is a superst.i.tion among the Hindus that death must occur on the north bank of the sacred river Ganges, in order to become a monkey after death (monkeys are considered sacred); for if the demise occurs on the opposite side of the Ganges, one would surely become a donkey.

We next turned toward the celebrated Monkey Temple, a pretentious but inartistic structure of red sandstone, presided over by the monster wife of Siva, the G.o.ddess Kali, who is seated on an interior shrine and almost terrifies the beholder by her demoniacal smile, her neck being wreathed with skulls. The G.o.ddess of Blood demands a daily sacrifice, usually a goat and sometimes even a buffalo. At least twenty terrible-looking priests were in attendance upon her when we arrived and were ready to slay the inoffensive goat if money was forthcoming. We, however, declined to witness such a spectacle. Monkeys, disgustingly old and fat, were everywhere, and filled large trees surrounding the temple, two hundred at least being visible. Beggars, mendicants, and priests were abundantly in evidence.

In an attempt to throw some small coins to some children, I was nearly crushed, the crowd closing around me and separating me from my party, until a tall Brahman priest with a huge stick checked the mob and I escaped, to be admonished by the Director of the party, who declared that I must never repeat the experiment, however much my sympathies might be drawn upon by the scenes that impressed me.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Bathing ghat, Benares_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Burning ghat, Benares, where cremations occur_]

The following morning we proceeded at 7 A.M. to the scene of all others in Benares, the bathing ghats. These are steps leading down from the plateau to the river on the banks of the Ganges and extending a distance of nearly three miles. Seated in a native small boat, we sailed leisurely up and down for hours, watching the unusual spectacle. The Brahman priests were everywhere (there being thirty thousand in Benares who live on the offerings of the pilgrims), some seated under umbrella-like canopies, some under tents, others bathing, and others performing certain sacred offices for the devotees who had come hither in state, on elephants or camels, by train or on foot, all intent on securing an increase of religious zeal. The crowds bathing in the sacred river are a continuous spectacle. There are piers built out into the stream for convenience, filled with pilgrims of every hue and variety of dress and undress, some simply wearing the loin cloth, which startled us at first, but now seemed the legitimate outcome of a lean purse and a hot climate.

In addition, there is a continuous refrain of voices in solemn supplication to one or more of the many thousands of Hindu G.o.ds, for it has been stated that there are two hundred thousand divinities in India.

At one point there is a burning ghat, and one morning we witnessed the preparation for two cremations, one of a poor man and the other of the wife of a Maharaja. The two ceremonies differed little, except that the wood for the funeral pile of one cost a mere pittance, while the sandalwood for the latter cost six hundred rupees. The corpse is carried on a small litter, or bier, made of bamboo sticks (a man is robed in white and a woman in red), and deposited in the Ganges, feet foremost; care is taken that the whole body be immersed in order that purification may be complete. The relatives arrange the pile of wood, about eight logs being required. Then the body is transferred to the pyre, and the torch is applied by one of the family, the others sitting solemnly around in a circle. When consumed, the ashes are scattered in the river Ganges. It is a gruesome spectacle, however much it may be in the interest of sanitary science; but less so to me, who had witnessed the distribution of the bodies at the Towers of Silence in Bombay.

It will be seen that the princ.i.p.al commodity in Benares is holiness; but there is one creditable industry, namely, the manufacture of bra.s.s.

Several shops were visited, but we liked the modern styles less than the old Benares bra.s.s with which we were familiar.

One thought was uppermost while in Benares; I had pondered over it before in our visit to India. It was that with the ma.s.ses Hinduism to-day means superst.i.tion and idolatry, in spite of the fact that the earlier teaching was of a pure character. That the cultivated Hindus accept the practices and the priesthood is a mystery as subtle as the law of caste or the iron law of custom. It is a depressing thought, and causes a profound feeling of thankfulness that Providence placed us in a fairer land.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The Tope of Sarnath and the Jain Temple near Benares_]

The missionary effort of England, America, and other countries has for years been directed toward changing the condition of the ma.s.ses, but the law of caste is such that, to use a set phrase, if a man become a Christian, he is ostracized, even by the members of his own family, unless they too follow his example. He is also ostracized as regards any business he may follow, and the sacrifice he is forced to undergo seems almost too great for human endurance. Still, according to missionary reports, this sacrifice is frequently made, which is equivalent to true heroism. Naturally, the progress of proselyting is slower in India than in any other country of the Orient, but it is the consensus of opinion that a greater extension of hospitals in charge of so-termed missionaries and a greater extension of schools for the young are the leaven that will work satisfactory results in the future. Another rea.s.suring sign is the establishment of the Central Hindu College at Benares by Mrs. A.B. Besant, the Theosophist. This is intended to elevate the Hindu youth, combining religious and moral education with mental and athletic development. We saw only the exterior of the building.

Four miles from Benares, at the site of the old Benares, called Sarnath, is a most interesting ancient monument known as the Tope of Sarnath. It is the best preserved of any in Bengal. It was erected in Deer Park to mark the spot sanctified by the presence of Buddha. It was explored in 1835 and found to be a stupa; but containing no relics, it was evidently intended to indicate the spot where Buddha first a.s.sumed his mission as a teacher. The tope consists of a stone bas.e.m.e.nt ninety-three feet in diameter and solidly built of stone. Above the stone is brickwork rising to a height of one hundred and twenty feet from the plain. The lower story has niches evidently intended for a figure of Buddha, and below this is a band of sculptured ornaments of great beauty; it is thought from the evidences of ornamentation that in date it corresponds to the best period of Delhi. There is an interesting temple in the vicinity, and there formerly was a large Buddhist monastery. One also finds acres of mounds and debris indicating a large Buddhist foundation in the days when Buddha reigned supreme.

We left Benares for Darjeeling the evening of December 27th, and the prospect of a glimpse of mountain scenery in the famed Himalaya foothills, eight thousand feet above the sea, was exhilarating after the depressing scenes behind us.

SILIGURI, _December 28th_: We arrived at Siliguri early the following morning, December 28th, and were at once transferred to the Darjeeling and Himalayan Railway (two-foot gauge with open cars), a triumph of engineering skill on account of the sudden and wonderful curves which continue from the beginning to the end and cause the famous Horseshoe Curve of the Pennsylvania Railway to sink into insignificance. The ride was exciting, as every bend revealed something new and startling.

Leaving the plain of Bengal behind us, which is a feature of interest, we commenced the ascent; first through a jungle of cane and gra.s.s, both very high, where tigers, leopards, bears, deer, and the like have their home; and next through a forest with few familiar trees save the giant oak. Higher up the graceful bamboo is seen, and still higher fruit trees are plentiful; then small tea plantations appear, and a more peaceful landscape. Another bold curve and the glorious snow-capped Kanchanjanga range is in full view,--a perfect panorama, the atmosphere being clear and the sky almost cloudless. It was one of the supreme moments of life.

We were now nearing Darjeeling, having made a gradual descent during the last half-hour.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _A view of Darjeeling and the Kanchanjanga Range_]

DARJEELING, _December 28th_: The Woodlands Hotel, picturesquely situated on the side of a lesser mountain, became our abiding-place for all too short a time. Darjeeling is beautifully located upon a ridge, seven thousand feet above water level. The mountain side is picturesque with its sprinkling of villas and bungalows, tall mountains towering up as a background. The average temperature is eighty degrees in summer and thirty in winter; hence it is a favorite resort. There is a sanitarium here, called "The Eden." The mountain views prove a great attraction; the Kanchanjanga range is seen beyond the intervening mountains, with a vast chasm in the foreground.

The Mall is the princ.i.p.al promenade, and winds around Observatory Hill, from which fine glimpses of the country are to be obtained. In the vicinity is St. Andrew's Church, with interesting tablets, and near by the summer residence of the Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal.

We were admonished to hurry our luncheon in order not to lose the opportunity of seeing the celebrated bazar of which we had heard so much, even in Bombay. I do not refer to the regular street bazar, but to a bazar at which crowds of peasants from different provinces congregate once a week for the sale of silver and turquoise jewelry, which is mostly exhibited on their persons, supplemented by a small bundle which is carried; but the transactions are very primitive and unlike those at any other bazar. Then there are the quaint things they wear,--artistic chatelaines with articles generally suspended and thrown over the shoulder, instead of worn around the waist, immense earrings, finger-rings, bracelets, and anklets; also large round silver pins for the hair, suspended between two long ornaments resembling an elongated corkscrew--all linked together with a narrow black ribbon tied in a bow. The wearing of this latter head ornament was very grotesque, and I bought one taken from the hair of a peasant, besides purchasing some other articles which now serve as a reminder of the quaint scene. The dress of the men, women, and children was peculiar, and varied according to their province, such as Bhutias, Tibetans, Nepalese, Pelaris, Ghorkas, and others.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _A Nepaulese group_]

Their shrewd faces were illuminated with smiles as they realized the success of a bargain which was doubtless far in excess of the value of the article purchased; or failing of a bargain their persistent attempts to secure one were amusing. As we walked around through the motley crowd, powerless to express ourselves except in the universal language of pantomime, with mountains all around us and the Kanchanjanga still in view, we felt as though we were a part of a play, it seemed so unreal.

Later we visited the street bazars, all of them furnished with articles claimed to be antique. In the evening the proprietor of the hotel gave us an interesting description of scenes in Tibet, ill.u.s.trated with lantern views.

The cold of late December now became intense, and it required some courage to be called at three o'clock in the morning for an expedition to Tiger Hill to see the sun rise. A half-hour after, nevertheless, saw our departure, and you would have smiled at the spectacle I presented, seated in a chair with six bearers (two for a relay), rugs and cushions piled around me, the crowning feature being a red blanket which, at the last moment, one of the bearers draped around my shoulders. It was moonlight when we left the valley. The view of each mountain and gorge was marvellous, so unlike daylight, as the moon ever throws elusive shadows about all things it touches. Before we reached our destination, the first streak of dawn was faintly outlined against the horizon, as if heralding the approach of some great spectacle, which soon came in shades of gold and pink; then bursting forth like a great ball of fire which illuminated the whole scene, even the distant Kanchanjanga range being suffused with a pinkish glow. We held our breath and were thankful, for the guide had told us that a perfect sunrise was a rare occurrence. Mount Everest, 29,002 feet high, eighty miles distant, and the highest peak in the world, as usual was but dimly seen. After the excitement of the morning, the hot coffee and rolls which were provided for us proved most acceptable. We lingered on for a half-hour, amused that even above the clouds human nature is the same, as every bearer produced rings or other trinkets for our inspection and possible purchase. The descent was made in the blinding sunlight, and indeed it was so warm that we laid aside our blankets, and we noted the different aspects which all Nature wore.

A nine-o'clock breakfast followed, and we were ready for other experiences. The descent to Siliguri was not unlike the ascent, with the view reversed. A night train conveyed us to Sara Ghat, where we arrived early in the morning and were taken across the river Ganges to Dumonkdeah, where we took a train for Calcutta, one hundred and sixteen miles distant.

CALCUTTA, _December 31st_: There is, in a certain sense, a link between Benares and Calcutta; the latter is situated on the Hooghly River, which is an outlet of the river Ganges, but no resemblance exists between India's modern winter capital and the city of superst.i.tion. We arrived in Calcutta on December 31st, and repaired to the Strand Hotel. An afternoon drive to Eden Park proved delightful, and on every side we saw attractive surroundings.

January 1st dawned brightly, and found us at 7 A.M. driving to the fine esplanade, called "The Maidan," and extending two miles. We were on our way to witness the great annual military review by the Viceroy, now Lord Minto. Presentation Day is the term here applied to New Year's Day. It was a gala occasion indeed, and the equipages of the rich, and the smaller vehicles of all descriptions, encircled the barrier that intervened between the spectators and those who were to furnish the display. There were also hundreds on foot, some of them in the brilliant native dress of various colors, with their many-hued turbans. This was specially noticeable in the livery of many of the native carriages, where gold tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs were profuse, and the same scheme was carried out in the dress of the two coachmen and two footmen, the latter being called _syces_. The militia presented a splendid appearance, and the infantry marched with the greatest precision, but the cavalry, as usual, carried off the honors as regards spectacular display, particularly the native cavalry with their picturesque dress. Lord Minto and his aides were elegantly decked in their accoutrements and elicited much cheering.

We returned for a nine-thirty breakfast, and left afterwards for a sight-seeing expedition, having been warned not to expect much in this line at Calcutta. St. Paul's Cathedral--English--was interesting on account of the many memorials and statues, one of Bishop Heber having much merit. Fort William and the grounds of the Government House, the Dalhousie Club, the Black Hole, and other points were also visited.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The Government House in Calcutta_]

The Black Hole is so often mentioned in connection with Calcutta that a few words of explanation seem necessary. It was at the time of the siege of Calcutta in 1756 a small room in the barracks, twenty-two by fourteen feet in size, and sixteen feet in height. One hundred human beings were crowded into it on the night of June 20th, and there were only twenty-three survivors in the morning. A memorial obelisk was erected by one of these survivors, and this was restored by order of Lord Curzon.

The Imperial Museum is a very large building and has extensive geological and archaeological departments. It also possesses a fine library.

We omitted the burning ghat, remembering the one at Benares, but a Hindu temple revealed another repulsive G.o.ddess, Kali, and the sacrifice of the goat had just occurred. The river front has a ghat for bathing.

A drive to the distant Botanical Gardens proved of much interest, and the largest banyan tree in the world was there displayed, having four hundred and sixty-four aerial branches and covering over an acre in extent; there were also long avenues of palms.

Lacking the fine harbor of Bombay, Calcutta is still a city of great commercial importance and of many natural attractions and fine public buildings. It is, however, a place of decided contrasts, imposing streets of residences being not far distant from as wretched a native quarter as may be seen in any other Indian city. To the casual tourist Calcutta seems a large English city (eight hundred thousand inhabitants), especially so in the life on the Maidan, the centre of attraction and fashion. Eden Park is also greatly frequented, and the race-course is the finest in India; but, notwithstanding, Calcutta has not the charm of Bombay. The Strand Hotel gave us an elaborate menu for our New Year's dinner, which was supplemented by flowers and bonbons, and we all voted the occasion, even if in a foreign land, a success. And so I link Lucknow and Calcutta together in the holiday column of my memory.

I have before alluded to the sad, dejected faces of the natives of North India; the Bengali seemed a trifle more melancholy, as is their reputation. We did not regret our departure, although it meant the loss of our faithful Indian guide, Dalle, and our travelling servant, Jusef, both with their long India bordered shawls artistically thrown over one shoulder, and their high white turbans rolled round and round the head, the finishing touch being a tall conical ornament that stood up in the centre. This is significant of their territorial province, styles of turbans varying with the locality. The early hour of 6 A.M. found us departing on the British and India line for a steamer trip of three days, Rangoon being our destination.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _An avenue of palms in the Botanical Gardens_]

The trip was restful, but afforded little variety, and we hailed our arrival at Rangoon with delight early on the morning of January 6th. By a late decision we concluded to go on at once to Mandalay and leave Rangoon to be visited on our return. Taking a train at noon, we were favored by journeying in _de luxe_ cars, sacred to the use of high officials, and so complete in equipment as to include bathroom, shower-bath, and other conveniences. The afternoon ride was through a fertile country, rice and bananas being the princ.i.p.al products. The rice crop had been garnered, and piles of bags were ready at every station for shipment to Rangoon (the amount shipped is two hundred thousand tons annually). Later we visited a field where rice was being harvested. It is not unlike wheat in the sheaf, but smaller. The country process after cutting is first to pound the rice, and then winnow it so as to remove the hull; this is done by throwing it in the air, by means of a round flat plate with a handle. Machinery is used in the cities.

BURMA: We were now far from the centre of things, in a remote corner of Southeastern Asia, hidden in the midst of mountains, which were for ages the safeguard against Indian invaders and the aggression of China.

Proselyting Buddhists, however, found their way from India and brought civilization with them.

There is a great diversity of races in Burma, various foreign tribes having come there and remained, making a mixed population. There are now about sixty thousand Palaings wearing the Chin dress. The Kachins, a warlike people, formerly made raids on the Burmans who lived on the border of China, the Chins dwelling among the hills. The Karens are numerically the strongest and live in the delta of the Irrawaddy. They had been an oppressed people, but achieved their liberty under British rule, and it is estimated that one hundred thousand abjured Buddhism and became Christians. The Chins are the oldest, having come from China two thousand years ago.

Southern Burma was under British rule before the middle of the nineteenth century, but it is only since January, 1886, that England has controlled Northern Burma. King Thebaw's downfall was caused by his numerous cruel acts to foreigners, which compelled the British to take steps to check him. His headquarters were at Mandalay, and his deserted palace is the centre of attraction to-day. The most prominent feature is the fort, in and about which are grouped the palace of the King, the houses of Government officials and residents of the military quarter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Fort Dufferin and the moat, Mandalay_]