Scinde; or, the Unhappy valley

Front matter

SCINDE; OR. THE UNHAPPY VALLEY. SCINDE; OK, THE UNHAPPY VALLEY. BY RICHARD F. BURTON, LIEUT., BOMBAY ARMY. Author of " Goa and the Blue Mountains," Ac. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, 53ubltsfjrr in ©rtrinarg tn fjnr fHajcstg. 1851. LONDON : BRADBURY AND SVANS, PRINTERS, WHITBFRJAKS DEDICATION. TO LIETJTENxANT-COLONEL WALTER SCOTT, BOMBAY ENGINEERS. My dear Scott, The sentiment may savour of Theniistocles rather than Aristides ; still I venture to hold that the pen in the hand of a man is that implement wherewith he may lawfully make known his obligations to those he loves, and, at the same time, answer loudly as he pleases certain other claim ants to his attention. Acting upon this principle — or no principle, as you please — I have inscribed these pages to you, a veteran dweller iu the tents of Shem, a shrewd observer of all things oriental, and, what concerns my purpose infinitely more, an old and valued friend, whose claims to my gratitude I shall ever feel to be of the strongest. London, 1st August, 1851. CONTENTS.

Chapter I. The

"SftippE Of gelle"— ». e. THE GOVERNMENT STEAMER THAT TOOK US TO SCINDE. Step in, Mr. Bull, — after you, sir ! I hope you liked Trafalgar, and Tarifa, and Gibraltar, and Algiers, and Malta, and Alexandria, and that you found the realities of travel almost as entertaining as the thousand-and-one Di — , Pan — , Physi — , Poly — , and other — oramic imitations at which you have been perseveringly staring these last few years, sir. You have now quitted Suez, which a facetious " entertainer " very graphically described as being the Grand Depot for the Overland Babies — you are pacing the deck somewhat curiously and excitedly VOL. I. B as the steamer tears furiously down the middle of the Red Sea. But you look in vain towards me, your guide. I will not answer a single question. One of these days, Mr. Bull, when you are quite recovered from the fatigue and annoyances of this Oriental trip, when Mrs. Bull once more allows you a few weeks leave of absence, when the boys and girls are all in rude health, and at work, as good children should be, and when there is no squabble, clerical, laical, on public grounds or on private grounds, in yrour happy home, — no murders in the neighbourhood to engross your attention and your spare time — then, sir, may be I shall offer my services as courier to you down the eastern coast of the Erythræan Sea up to Senaa in Yemen, the capital of that land of happy name.* The " Semiramis/' or some other confounded place of punishment with a high-flown misnomer, is in orders to convey from Bombay Harbour to Kurrachee a freight of 600 negro souls and bodies.

Go we must, sir,— and by her, too; go we must. At this time of the year, October, a coasting voyage in a sailing vessel northwards, is a beautiful illustration of the Moral Impossible. * Yemen — the " happy land." ■3 FIRST SCENE. " Hollo, young man ! where am I to put my box ? Show me to my berth, will ye ? And I say, don't forget I want that carpet-bag down in the cabin, and, O, yes, by-the-by, the hat-box must come too, — what the deuce is the matter with you ? " Oh, Mr. Bull ! Mr. Bull ! what a sore and grievous premier pas is this ! that gentleman whom you mistook for a steward, is the third lieutenant, au officer in the Bombay Marines, alias the Indian Navy, and an individual of infinite importance in his own estimation, if not in that of others. A subaltern in a steam-frigate, sir, is a regular sea-satrap — under authority, it is true, but not a whit the less capable of passing authority on with a mode and manner which render it extraauthoritative.

Besides you have unconsciously touched a most sensitive " raw." He and all his cloth are rabid at the degradation of having to transport "soldier-officers," of being obliged to defile their spotless decks with " dirty passengers " and "filthy sepoys." The least allusion to this great grievance is sure to arouse a tornado of wrath in the blue-coated bosom. Now hearken to the thunder that bursts over your devoted head * Go to the D , you old fool. I say, Quarter master, pitch that fellow's traps overboard — sharp, d'ye hear ? " — b2 Ending with a tirade of personal observations, not of a compbmentary description. "Were the said lieutenant a fellow-passenger with you to Margate or Herne Bay, I should counsel you to invest a five pound note in revenge — not that you would require much advice about the matter.

But my dear, fat, old, testy, but very unblood thirsty papa de famille, here — in these Eastern seas — all you can do is to swallow, with as few grimaces as possible, the bitter bit which you took into your mouth. It is only four days to Kurrachee We eat and drink like ghools or schoolboys on board the " shippe," because we pay one pound per diem for our " keep." We have literally nothing to do with, for, or to ourselves, and to eat and drink is, all things considered, less laborious than to do nothing. At six o'clock a.m. there is coffee on deck ; at nine we go down to breakfast ; at noon we assemble to " make it twelve " by the peculiar process of imbibing brandy and water and crunching sea-biscuits. At 3 p.m. we dine with the sub alterns in -the gun-room, I believe they call the place : we small fry cannot pass the dread portals of the " state-cabin," where sits the commander sur- EATING. 5 rounded by his field officer-passengers.

Three hours afterwards we again apply the spur to the jaded appetite, and take tea — a meal consisting of a devilled biscuit and pale ale; and from that time forwards we adhibit to ourselves as much liquid aliment as we can dispose of. Between whiles we smoke, generally cheroots, sometimes a hookah to feed the comical indignation of our nautical friends. You have learned by this time, I presume, what ship cookery is— how the potage is always poultice like pea-soup ; how the bottles in the cruet-stand always contain " passenger-pickles " (i. e. so hot that an ounce lasts a year) ; how the bluish red or boiled-to-tatters mutton tastes exactly as if it had been cooked by the stokers in the engine-room; how politeness forbids the appearance of " salt horse " or pork, the only good things on board; and finally, how the fat steams of the vegetables remind you of nothing but a dirty torchon.

Your mental machinery is in a state of confusion, I see. You know not " what to observe," and would rather prefer observing nothing just at present. Very well, we will talk over matters to-morrow. So good night. We rise early, exactly at half-past 3 a.m., one of your old favourites, the heroes of your juvenile years — a " Jack Tar " — growls aloud, " Tum'le out there, goin' t' wash dex," — And if you do not obey the order instanter, he swamps you and your couch with a tubful of cold water. The best joke the honest light-hearted fellows know is to make a land-lubber thoroughly miserable, no matter by what means. Rising in your day-shirt, which does duty as chemise de nuit, and certain cotton drawers called pajammas — very useful when sleeping in public — you choose a seat, the bulwarks, or any other elevation inaccessible to the swirling streams which overflow the quarter-deck ; there you rub your red eyes with alarming violence, yawn like a little crocodile, stretching all your limbs at the same time, and ask and answer your friends sundry queries concerning the last Indian Night's Entertainment.

When the dizziness of drowsiness leaves your brain you essay a kind of ablution — not with the priggish precision of a Bengalee, who commences to use the tooth-brush in his verandah regularly at 3 a. m. yours is a catholic, syncretistic style of lavation, performed, campaigning-fashion, in a tinned pan, called a gendee. You are now in a proper state of mind to look around you admiringly, to DAY ON BOARD THE " SHIPPE." 7 enjoy the manifold charms of nature — such as the cool dewy breath of delightful morn, the cloudless welkin's azure depth, and the tiuy undulations of the sapphire wave, streaked by the orient sun's aureate rays, and — perhaps you smoke a cigar You dress for breakfast and finish that meal rapidly, not relishing milkless tea or tincture of coffee, which on a pinch might serve for ipecacuanha.

The horrors of the day then begin in real earnest. You cannot sit in the rattling, creaking, groaning, shivering, steaming gun-room, full of the bouquet of dinner and sour, bread. On deck there is an awning, but it is about as efficacious to protect you from Phœbus's fury as a lady's park parasol against a gin-palace on fire. You cannot read even if you had books; you cannot talk even were you inclined to do so. There are six hundred sepoys on board, each squatting on half-a-foot of deck, cramped, you may suppose, as to their limbs, but by no means fettered about that unruly member, the tongue. How they chatter, squabble, blow the conch, sing hymns to the sea-god, and smear themselves with oil of cocoa-nut ! You wonder how the fellows keep life andbody together upon a quantity of parched grain barely sufficient for a barn-door cock,* * High-caste Hindus would rather starve than cook on board ship. how they can be so cheerful without the accustomed hookah, and above 'all things, how they can sit by day and sleep away the night in the posture of a crow in the act of incubation.

The party contains a lady too; and however sweet the presence of the fair sex may be in its normal place, on board ship — ahem ! Five gentlemen are paying her devoted attentions ; numbers one and two walk arm in arm with her, each speaking in his own whisper; a third follows holding her parasol, another precedes her with her novel, and the fifth hangs about with her lap-dog — most of them are Irishmen; all are as fierce as fiends — it is not safe even to look that way. You cannot walk ; the only tolerable part of the quarter-deck belongs, by right of office, to the " monarch of all he surveys " — one as absolute too, as any Robinson Crusoe or French cook in his own empire — our captain. So wearily enough the per spiring Hours drag one foot after another as they limp through their monotonous chaine des dames.

Do you not wish that we could hypnotize for three days like fakirs, or indulge in a triduan bout of hybernation, as the Esquimaux are said to do ? At last it is 11 p. m. We prepare to "turn in," if that technical phrase may be applied to depositing ANGLO-INDIANISMS. our persons upon the contents of these bundles — pillows, padded coverlet, sheets, and sleeping mat, spread on some unoccupied space, wherever the quarter-deck will receive us under its awning. Now observe certain Anglo-Indianisms. See how that young gentleman — a " fast " infant, who has been smoking all day, crushing and throwing away every second cigar with an air, drinking at least two gallons of ale, and yet complaining that he is "stinted in his liquor," — undresses himself. Stretched upon his litter, and presenting the appear ance of a spread-eagle couchant, he superintended the operations of unbooting, unsocking, and unpan talooning, as performed by Baloo, a " boy " * of fifty.

Mr. Ensign Snooks's temper has been ruffled ; how, I cannot say, but the fact is unimpugnable. He does nothing but kick the said Baloo's shins, and indulge in curious physiological allusions to his (Baloo's) maternal progenitor, his wives, sisters, and the other ladies of his family. Not that the " boy " cares much about that matter, he has taken the " griffin "-line, angles for embryo commanders-in chief, fleeces them for the few first months after their arrival in the country, convoys them to their first * In western India the head servant is a " boy" all his life. Philologists differ as to the origin of the word. B3 " out-station," and turns them off when they begin to study Hindostanee. Turn we to another picture— I may scarcely term it a smiling one. For instance, that old captain, with a stock-fish complexion, and a forehead which looks as if the skin had been pinched up into a hundred wrinkles.

He is going to grumble himself to sleep, and to enliven the last hours of discontented day by wit nessing the dire discomfort of some sleepy black, who is ordered to shampoo the old benevolent's arms and legs till, to translate his own phrase, his " eyes turn white" with fatigue. Or the fashionable major in her most gracious Majesty's regiment, en route to join his corps. He has been " friends " with almost everybody ; he has edified the oldsters, astonished the youngsters, and delighted all hands by the number of titles his conversation contains, and by his anecdotes anent clubs, balls, steeple-chases, hunts, the " women," and the continent. He did not patronise ale, but the way in which he eyed, tasted, and rolled his head after each glass of bilious sherry or sour Bourdeaux, proved him to be quite a gourmet.

See now the result of connoisseurship. The posterior portion of his bran-new Lincoln and Bennett lies ANGLO-INDIANISMS. 11 crushed between his head and the pillow, whilst his catalepsed lower limbs refuse to remove the polished chef d'œuvres of Hubert, from the chests and faces of the neighbouring line of sleepers. " Snowball," his attendant pariah, kneels beside him in despair, and the amiable old captain involves in one comprehen sive d , all the Queen's officers ever created, with everything and everybody ever belonging to them, " Snowball " included. You seem astonished, Mr. Bull, at the amount of revelling and the general dare-devil tone of things on board the " shippe." A word in your ear — Those gentlemen are all going up on field service. Reports * * * The Sikhs * * * The Affghans * * * Cashmere shawls * * * Precious stones * * * Two millions of pounds sterling in gold * * * We go to bed, too, under the awning as usual.

Recollect if it rains, which it is pretty sure to do, clutch up your bed, and do not walk, but bolt as fast as you can into the gun-room. If you are agile in your movements, you may chance to secure part of the table, or a quiet place under it. But mind, above all things, avoid sleeping on any part of the narrow strip of thoroughfare which runs round that venerable piece of furniture, unless you wish to have one of your favourite Ben Braces, or Tom Starboards walking slowly over your countenance with the thickest of ammunition boots. In the mean time, make all preparations for covering yourself with something warm. Hereabouts, if it is Jehan num by day, it is generally Barahoot * by night. And particularly avoid sleeping in the moonlight. Yon omniscient English gentlemen may laugh at what I am going to tell you, still it is not the less true.

Many an incautious negro has risen in the morning from his soft slumbers in " Cynthia's cooly ray," with one moiety of his face by no means a reflection of the other, and probably it took his countenance a year or two to recover from the effects of the moonblow. Do you feel inclined to admire the unusual brilliancy of the heavenly bodies — to speculate upon the quantity of light which Jupiter affords — to recognise the Bears, and dimly recollect that the poets have said something about them — to, to— in a word, to sentimentalise upon the sublime and beautiful ? "Not a bit!" Well, sir, I thought so. The planks are rather » The former the hot, the latter the cold place of eternal punishment, lelon Mohammed. DIU FORT. hard ; the dew is somewhat chilly ; that young fellow does snore a little, and that old gentleman will outcurse Ernulphus.

Our course lies N. N. W., and all the first day we were in blue water, too far from the Northern Ocean and the coast of Guzerat to distinguish their several beauties. The wind, which at this season of the year is certain to be dead ahead, increased sen sibly ; in fact a gale seemed to be in prospect. But no one, I believe, ever passed the Gulf of Cambay without being in, or in the neighbourhood of, a storm. The second morning brought us in sight of the rounded headland and the little sand-hills which mark the position of Diu Fort, the name — famous in Western, infamous in Eastern annals, — of a place where Portuguese gallantry never shone more brilliantly, and where Portuguese treachery never appeared in blacker colours. A few hours after that the spires and towers, the bastions and bulwarks of the now ruinous settlement had disappeared from view, we shot by a shelving plain, the ancient site " Of Somnath Puttan in Kattywar,' as one of our bards geographically, but yet unmusi cally, sings, and the modern celebrity for having produced certain gates which afforded the periodicals and the public a great deal of innocent amusement.

There you caught a glimpse of the Land of the (self-styled) Children of the Sun and Moon, a nation of noblemen, whose pedigree dates, as you may guess from the family name, a great deal before the Conquest, and who, withal, have little but luminous origin, and a terrible habit of romancing to recom mend them. Like the Belochies, the Welsh, and other semi-barbarous races, they actually support minstrels, an order of men whose only occupation is to scatter the dust of many " crams " over the venerable remains of antiquity, and to put together as many curious and elaborate lies as they can. The scenery then becomes interesting enough. We stood within three miles of land, and every half hour supplied us with a change of prospect. The perpetually shifting coast was covered with towns and villages, here glittering in the sunshine, there almost concealed by surrounding wood, and the back-ground was a range of lofty hills whose forested crests, un concealed by even the semblance of a mist, cut in jagged lines the deep blue surface of an Eastern sky.

At a distance you might mistake that tower for the spire of an old cathedral in good old Normandy DWARKA. 15 — it is the pagoda of Dwarka, a revered spot where some half million of pilgrims annually flock to spend their money, worship Krishna, receive the brand of that demi-deity, die of an epidemic, and feed the hungry sharks that haunt the bay in wait for devotee flesh. At night you remark the vast sheet of fire which spreads like lightning over the distant lulls. They are covered with enormous bamboos, and these when dry are ignited by the friction which the wind causes, and burn with fiery fury. It is a favourite theme of the Hindoo muses — this Burning Jungle — and now that you have witnessed it, even from afar, you can well conceive how much glowing descrip tion and tenebrious terminology may be expended upon it.

The fourth morning we lose sight of land; we are striking across the Gulf of Cutch. Something has been said, and still there is something to be said, about the Kanthi of Ptolemy, the probability versus the possibility of the Runn ever having been an inland sea, the voyage of Nearchus and the accuracy or the errors of Arrian. But I have talked, heard, and written about the Kanthi and the Runn, Nearchus and Arrian, till the very names have become provocatives of qualm. Here we are at last. The extremity of that long line of blue hills lying to the northward isCapeMonze, a spot which, terrible to say, also has its debatable and debated classical name.* These insulated masses of stone which emerge a few feet from the water are the Oyster-rocks; they are to this region what the Needles are to the last bit of old England that detained our lingering looks.

When landing we pass between them and the craggy promontory, with the lighthouse on its walled summit — Fort Manhora. This is the southern gateway of our unhappy valley, and the architecture and material— bleached and barren piles of limestone — have been admirably adapted by the hand of Nature to the luxuriant fields of marshy mangrove and salt sand which lie within the gorge. The rock rises about 130 feet perpendicularly above the level of the sea ; it is nearly a mile in length, and towards the shore shelves down till it sinks into a muddy swamp, overgrown with vegetation, and over flowed by every high tide. Now, Sir, you stand a couple of miles from Kurrachee, the young Alexandria of our young Egypt,t and a few yards from the spot * Eiros, I believe. + " Young Egypt" is a favourite soubriquet for the Unhappy Valley, originating from an official proclamation, which announced the new conquest to be equal to Egypt in fertility.

Certainly, many parts remind one much of Amrou's despatch to the Caliph Umar, in which he describes the land of the Nile as successively appearing a desert, a lake, and a flower garden. HOW MANHORA FOUGHT. where British arms first showed the vaunting Scindee and the blustering Beloch what British arms can do when necessary. As Sir J. K , " after a service of forty-five years in the four quarters of the globe," was marching up to take the city, which made the knight a baron, he and his gallant soldiers were so evil entreated — at least, so it is said — by the Princes of the Indus, who would neither be on regular warlike terms with him, so as to give him an opportunity of looting * them, nor yet be sufficiently accommodating to assist him in looting others, that a reserve force was inconti nently despatched from Bombay to be stationed in this favoured land, and to'teach its rude rulers better manners.

Kurrachee was fixed upon as the point of disem barkation. H. M. ship "Wellesley," 74, and the "Hannah" transport, having on board H. M. 40th regiment, together with a company of artillery, arrived there on the 2nd of February, 1839, anchored under the walls of the fort, and summoned the garrison to surrender. " I am a Beloch, and I will die first," was the magnanimous reply of the noble barbarian, the com mander of the said garrison. Moreover, the same * Loot is plunder in the Anglo-Indian dialect. noble barbarian sent a few Scindee spies to " humbug " the British admiral and the brigadier into the belief that Manhora was a Gibraltar, and the Belochies perfect devils to fight. "And so are we," quoth those not-to-be-hum bugged personages. Accordingly dispositions were made for the attack. The regiment and artillery landed, whilst the 74 cleared decks and was brought near for action.

When all was ready, the fortress was a second time sum moned, with true British humanity — it was supposed not to contain a farthing in copper — whereto it replied laconically and tant soil peu Gallicanly, that " Forts might be stormed, but they never surrender." Under these circumstances, the " Wellesley" re joined tartly, with a broadside, a hailstorm of bullets, which, as might have been expected, removed half of the miserable breastwork from its proud position above the watery plain into the watery plain. After a few minutes' continued cannonade, the breach was reported practicable, and a gallant band — " The full of hope, miscalled forlorn " — pressed forward to claim the honour and glory of being permitted to die the hero's death. " British officers and men," etc., etc., etc HOW MANHORA FELL. 19 Inflamed by the short and pithy harangue, the harangued moved on to the attack.

Pausing for a moment to take breath at the foot of the rock, they scanned the summit with fiery looks ; then, clambering up the steep side and tumbling over the wall and each other, with charging bayonets and the sturdiest possible hearts, they dashed impetuous into the midst of Fort Manhora. What could withstand such gallantry? The garrison, an old man, a young woman, and a boy, instantly surrendered. So did the town of Kurrachee; so also did all the neighbouring districts. The Governor-General of India " had much gratification in praising the forbearance both before and after the exertion of force " evinced by their excel lencies the naval and military commanders, and the brave bands they commanded. Moreover, the same high functionary opined that the " prompt and effectual measures taken for reducing Kurrachee appeared to have been conducted in a manner such as to ensure success."

I am telling you, Mr. Bull, the local, popular, and facetious version of the affair. Of course, there is another and a serious one. A great authority * * " Narrative of the Campaign of the Army of the Indus in Sind and Kaubool." in such things assures us that the flying garrison being captured, was found to consist of twenty men. Allahu Aalam — the Lord is all-knowing, as the Moslem divines say, when compelled by circum stances to relate an apochryphal tale — may the penalty of fiction fall with all due weight upon the head of the fictor ! FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE UNHAPPY VALLEY. 21

Chapter II. First Glimpse Of The Unhappy Valley, And The Native Town

OF KURRACHEE. " Well, I never ! " Of course not, sir. No one, man, woman, or child, ever saw the face of Young Egypt for the first time, without some such exclamation. " A regular desert ! — a mere line of low coast, sandy as a Scotchman's whiskers — a glaring waste, with visible as well as palpable heat playing over its dirty yellow surface ! " Yes, sir — yes ! When last I went home on furlough, after a voyage round the Cape of Good Hope, the " Eliza " deposited me at Plymouth. In the pilot boat was an " old and faithful servant," from Central Asia, accompanying his master to the land of the pork-eater. "Allah, Allah ! " exclaimed. Khudabakhsh, as he caught sight of the town, and the green hdls, and the woody parks, and the pretty places round about the place with the breakwater; "what manner of men must you Feringhis be, that leave such a bihisht * and travel to such accursed holes as ours, without manacles and the persuasions of the chob !

" t You recollect, I dare say, Mr. Bull, reading in your Goldsmith, a similar remark made by one of your compatriotes in the olden time ? " Caractacus and Khudabakhsh be ! Where are we to land here ? Where 's the wharf? " O man of civilisation, habituated as you are to quays and piers, with planks and ladders, I quite enter into the feeling that prompts the query. A long billowy sea, tipped with white, is sweeping directly into tbe narrow rock-girt jaw of the so-called harbour ; we roll to such an extent that if you like the diversion you may run from one side of the quarter-deck to the other, each time dipping your fingers in the pure element ; and to confuse matters still more, we have six hundred sepoys to land. There is a bar across the creek ; so the " Semi ramis" must lie at anchor outside till the pilot boats put off to fetch us.

Here they come, anything but agreeable to look at, but capable of going strangely well, half-through * Paradise. + The bastinado. INDIAN "MAN OVERBOARD." 23 half-over, the foaming waves. They are along-side, the chattering of the owners tells us. The sepoys disembark first. There goes one of them into the sea, musket, knapsack, brass pipkin and all. If he were an Englishman how he would drop "Brown Bess," and kick, and plunge, and roar, and cry, " Save me ! " But he is a Hindu. So, firmly grasping his weapon as if he were about to find it essentially useful in the depths of the ocean, he sinks — permanently. At the sight and sound of the fatal plunge you, good honest man, long accustomed, in concert with Mrs, Bull, Master Billy, and all the junior Bulls, to vent your feelings audibly, when a little girl tumbles in an "act of equestrianism" against the well padded barrier at Astley's, cannot help for the life of you, shouting " man overboard !

" rushing about the deck, and other signs of excited benevolence. Curiously enough, the surrounding blacks — the lost man's comrades and friends — eye your outlandish proceeding. They peep a little at the water, converse a great deal, and when their officers ask them what has occurred, respond brightly — " Ramjee Naick drowned ! " They would be rather disappointed, I really believe, were that Ramjee to reappear. Besides he was a low-caste man ; even he himself would have hesitated to rank himself in the scale of creation with the C. O.'s milch-goat. But the fat old Moslem ayah, the major's lady's black Abigail, does not seem at all anxious to share the poor pariah's fate. See how she sticks to the ladder, clings to the rope, and fearfully scans the insolent waves that now bedew her extensive display of leg, now sink into a yawning abyss, deep in the centre of which lies the little boat where she is required to deposit herself.