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Celebrated Travels and Travellers, Part 3. The Great Explorers of the Nineteenth Century

Kerman is the capital of ancient Karamania. Under the Afghan rule it was a flourishing town, and manufactured shawls which rivalled those of Cashmere.

Here Pottinger witnessed one of those spectacles which, common enough to countries where human life is of little value, always fill Europeans with horror and disgust. The governor of this town was both son-in-law and nephew of the shah, and also the son of the Shah's wife. "Upon the 15th of May," says Pottinger, "the prince himself judged certain persons who were accused of killing one of their servants. It is difficult to estimate the state of restlessness and alarm which prevailed in the village during the entire day. The gates of the town were shut, that no one might pass out. The government officials did not transact any business. People were cited as witnesses, without previous notice. I saw two or three taken to the palace in a state of agitation which could scarcely have been greater had they been going to the scaffold. About three in the afternoon the prince passed sentence upon those who had been convicted. Some had their eyes put out, some the tongue split. Some had the ears, nose, and lips cut off; others were deprived of their hands, fingers, or toes. I learned that whilst these horrible punishments were inflicted, the prince remained seated at the window where I had seen him, and gave his orders without the least sign of compassion or of horror at the scene which took place before him."

Leaving Kerman, Pottinger reached Cheré Bebig, which is equally distant from Yezd, Shiraz, and Kerman, and thence proceeded to Ispahan, where he had the pleasure of finding his companion Christie. At Meragha he met General Malcolm. It was now seven months since they had left Bombay. Christie had traversed 2250 miles, and Pottinger 2412. Meanwhile Christie had accomplished his perilous journey much better than he had anticipated.

Leaving Noutch upon the 22nd of March, he crossed the Vachouty mountains and some uncultivated country, to the banks of the Helmend, a river which flows into Lake Hamoun.

Christie in his report to the Company says: —

"The Helmend, after passing near Kandahar, flows south-west and west, and enters Sedjestan some four days march from Douchak; making a détour around the mountains, it finally forms a lake. At Peldalek, which we visited, it is about 1200 feet in width, and very deep; the water is very good. The country is cultivated by irrigation for half a mile on either side; then the desert begins, and rises in perpendicular cliffs. The banks of the river abound in tamarind-trees and provide pasturage for cattle."

Sedjestan, which is watered by this river, comprises only 500 square miles. The portions of this district which are inhabited are those upon the river Helmend, whose bed deepens every year.

At Elemdar Christie sent for a Hindu, to whom he had an introduction. This man advised him to dismiss his Belutchi attendants and to personate a pilgrim. A few days later he penetrated to Douchak, now known as Jellalabad. He says: —

"The ruins of the ancient city cover quite as large a space of ground as Ispahan. It was built, like all the towns of Sedjistan, of half-burned bricks, the houses being two stories high, with vaulted roofs. The modern town of Jellalabad is clean, pretty, and growing; it contains nearly 2000 houses and a fair bazaar." The road from Douchak to Herat was easy. Christie's sole difficulty was in carrying out his personation of a pilgrim. Herat lies in a valley, surrounded by high mountains and watered by a river, to which it is due that gardens and orchards abound. The town covers an area of about four square miles; it is surrounded by a wall flanked with towers, and a moat full of water. Large bazaars, containing numerous shops, and the Mechedé Djouna, or Mosque of Friday, are its chief ornaments.

No town has less waste land or a denser population. Christie estimates it at 100,000. Herat is the most commercial of all Asiatic towns under the dominion of native princes. It is the depôt for all the traffic between Cabul, Candahar, Hindustan, Cashmere, and Persia, and itself produces choice merchandize, silks, saffron, horses, and asafoetida.

"This plant," says Christie, "grows to a height of two or three feet, the stalk is two inches thick; it finishes off in an umbel which at maturity is yellow, and not unlike a cauliflower. It is much relished by Hindus and Belutchis. They prepare it for eating by cooking the stalks in ashes, and boiling the head like other vegetables; but it always retains its pungent smell and taste." Herat, like so many other Eastern towns, possesses beautiful public gardens, but they are only cultivated for the sake of the produce, which is sold in the bazaar. After a stay of a month at Herat, disguised as a horse-dealer, Christie, announcing that he would return after a pilgrimage to Meshid, which he contemplated, left the town. He directed his course to Yezd, across a country ravaged by the Osbeks, who had destroyed the tanks intended to receive the rain-water.

Yezd is a large and populous town on the skirts of a desert of sand. It is called "Dar-oul-Ehabet" or "The Seat of Adoration." It is celebrated for the security to be enjoyed there, which contributes largely to the development of its trade with Hindustan, Khorassan, Persia, and Bagdad. Christie describes the bazaar as large and well stocked. The town contains 20,000 houses, apart from those belonging to the Ghebers, who are estimated at 4000. They are an active and laborious people, although cruelly oppressed. From Yezd to Ispahan, where he alighted at the palace of the Emir Oud-Daoulé, Christie had travelled a distance of 170 miles upon a good road.

At Yezd, as we have seen, he met his companion, Pottinger. The two friends could but exchange mutual congratulations at the accomplishment of their mission, and their escape from the dangers of a fanatical country.

Pottinger's narrative, as may perhaps be gathered from the sketch we have given, was very curious. More exact than most of his predecessors, he had collected and offered to the public a mass of most interesting historical facts, anecdotes, and geographical descriptions.

Cabulistan had been, from the middle of the eighteenth century, the scene of a succession of ruinous civil wars. Competitors, with more or less right to the throne, had carried fire and sword everywhere, and converted that rich and fertile province into a desert, where the remains of ruined cities alone bore witness to former prosperity.

About the year 1808 the throne of Cabul was occupied by Soojah-Oul-Moulk. England, uneasy at the projects formed by Napoleon with a view of attacking her possessions in India, and at the offers of alliance made by him through General Gardane to the Shah of Persia, resolved to send an embassy to the court of Cabul, hoping to gain the king over to the interests of the East India Company.

Mountstuart Elphinstone was selected as envoy, and has left an interesting account of his mission. He collected much novel information concerning this region and the tribes by which it is peopled. His book acquires a new interest in our own day, and we turn with pleasure to pages devoted to the Khyberis and other mountain tribes, amid the events which are now taking place.

Leaving Delhi in October, 1808, Elphinstone reached Kanun, where the desert commences, and then the Shekhawuttée, a district inhabited by Rajpoots. At the end of October the embassy arrived at Singuana, a pretty town, the rajah of which was an inveterate opium-smoker. He is described as a small man, with large eyes, much inflamed by the use of opium. His beard, which was curled up to his ears on each side, gave him a ferocious appearance.

Djounjounka, whose gardens give freshness in the midst of these desert regions, is not now a dependency of the Rajah of Bekaneer, whose revenues do not exceed 1,250,000 francs. How is it possible for that prince to collect such revenues from a desert and uncultivated territory, overrun by myriads of rats, flocks of gazelles, and herds of wild asses?

The path across the sand-hills was so narrow that two camels abreast could scarcely pass it. At the least deviation from the path those animals would sink in the sand as if it had been snow, so that the smallest difficulty with the head of the column delayed the entire caravan. Those in front could not advance if those in the rear were delayed; and lest they should lose sight of the guides, trumpets and drums were employed as signals to prevent separation.

One could almost fancy it the march of an army. The warlike sounds, the brilliant uniforms and arms, were scarcely calculated to convey the idea of a peaceful embassy. The envoy speaks of the want of water, and the bad quality of that which was procurable was unbearable to the soldiers and servants. Although they quenched their thirst with the abundant water-melons, they could not do so without ill results to their health. Most of the natives of India who accompanied the embassy suffered from low fever and dysentery. Forty persons died during the first week's stay at Bekaneer. La Fontaine's description of the floating sticks might be aptly applied to Bekaneer. "From afar off it is something, near at hand it is nought." The external appearance of the town is pleasant, but it is a mere disorderly collection of cabins enclosed by mud walls.

At that time the country was invaded by five armies, and the belligerents sent a succession of envoys to the English ambassador, hoping to obtain, if not substantial assistance, at least moral support. Elphinstone was received by the Rajah of Bekaneer. "This court," he says, "was different from all I had seen elsewhere in India. The men were whiter than the Hindus, resembled Jews in feature, and wore magnificent turbans. The rajah and his relatives wore caps of various colours, adorned with precious stones.

"The rajah leant upon a steel buckler, the centre of which was raised, and the border encrusted with diamonds and rubies. Shortly after our entrance the rajah proposed that we should retire from the heat and importunity of the crowd. We took our seats on the ground, according to Indian custom, and the rajah delivered a discourse, in which he said he was the vassal of the sovereign of Delhi, and that as Delhi was in the possession of the British, he honoured the sovereignty of my government in my person.

"He caused the keys of the fort to be brought to him and handed them to me, but having received no instructions regarding such an event, I refused them. After much persuasion the rajah consented to keep his keys. Shortly afterwards a troop of bayadères came in, and dancing and singing continued until we took our leave."

Upon leaving Bekaneer the travellers entered a desert, in the middle of which stand the cities of Monyghur and Bahawulpore, where a compact crowd awaited the embassy. The Hyphases, upon which Alexander's fleet sailed, scarcely answered to the idea such a reminiscence inspires. Upon the morrow Bahaweel-Khan, governor of one of the eastern provinces of Cabul, arrived, bringing magnificent presents for the English ambassador, whom he conducted by the river Hyphases as far as Moultan, a town famous for its silk manufactures. The governor of the town had been terror-struck at hearing of the approach of the English, and there had been a discussion as to the attitude it was to assume, and whether the latter intended to take the town by stratagem, or to demand its surrender. When these fears were allayed, a cordial welcome followed.

Elphinstone's description, if somewhat exaggerated, is not the less curious. After describing how the governor saluted Mr. Strachey, the secretary to the embassy, after the Persian custom, he adds, – "They took their way together towards the tent, and the disorder increased. Some were wrestling, others on horseback mixed with the pedestrians. Mr. Strachey's horse was nearly thrown to the ground, and the secretary regained his equilibrium with difficulty. The khan and his suite mistook the road in approaching the tent, and threw themselves upon the cavalry with such impetuosity that the latter had scarcely time to face about and let them pass. The disordered troops fell back upon the tent, the servants of the khan fled, the barriers were torn up and trampled under foot; even the ropes of the tent broke, and the cloth covering very nearly fell on our heads. The tents were crowded immediately, and all was in darkness. The governor and six of his suite seated themselves, the others stood at arms. The visit was of short duration; the governor took refuge in repeating his rosary with great fervour, and in saying to me, in agitated tones, 'You are welcome! you are welcome!' Then on the pretext that the crowd inconvenienced me, he retired."

The account is amusing, but are all its details accurate? That, however, is of little moment. On the 31st December the embassy passed the Indus, and entered a country cultivated with a care and method unlike anything to be seen in Hindustan. The natives of this country had never heard of the English, and took them for Moguls, Afghans, or Hindus. The strangest reports were current among these lovers of the marvellous.

It was necessary to remain a month at Déra, to await the arrival of a "Mehnandar," a functionary whose duty it was to introduce ambassadors. Two persons attached to the embassy availed themselves of that opportunity to ascend the peak of Tukhte Soleiman, or the Crown of Solomon, upon which, according to the legend, the ark of Noah rested after the deluge.

The departure from Déra took place upon the 7th of February, and after travelling through delightful countries, the embassy arrived at Peshawur. The king had come to meet them, for Peshawur was not the usual residence of the court. The narrative says, – "Upon the day of our arrival our dinner was furnished from the royal kitchen. The dishes were excellent. Afterwards we had the meat prepared in our own way; but the king continued to provide us with breakfast, dinner, and supper, more than sufficient for 2000 persons, 200 horses, and a large number of elephants. Our suite was large, and much of this was needed; still I had great trouble at the end of a month in persuading his majesty to allow some retrenchment of this useless profusion."

As might have been expected, the negotiations preceding presentation at court were long and difficult. Finally, however, all was arranged, and the reception was as cordial as diplomatic customs permitted. The king was loaded with diamonds and precious stones; he wore a magnificent crown, and the Koh-i-noor sparkled upon one of his bracelets. This is the largest diamond in existence; a drawing of it may be seen in Tavernier's Travels.¹

Elphinstone, after describing the ceremonies, says, – "I must admit that if certain things, especially the extraordinary richness of the royal costume, excited my astonishment, there was also much that fell below my expectations. Taking it as a whole, one saw less indication of the prosperity of a powerful state than symptoms of the decay of a monarchy which had formerly been flourishing."

The ambassador goes on to speak of the rapacity with which the king's suite quarrelled about the presents offered by the English, and gives other details which struck him unpleasantly.

Elphinstone was more agreeably impressed with the king at his second interview. He says, – "It is difficult to believe that an Eastern monarch can possess such a good manner, and so perfectly preserve his dignity while trying to please."

The plain of Peshawur, which is surrounded on all but the eastern side by high mountains, is watered by three branches of the Cabul river, which meet here, and by many smaller rivers. Hence it is singularly fertile. Plums, peaches, pears, quinces, pomegranates, dates, grow in profusion. The population, so sparsely sprinkled throughout the arid countries which the ambassador had come through, were collected here, and Lieut. Macartney counted no less than thirty-two villages.

At Peshawur there are 100,000 inhabitants, living in brick houses three stories high. Various mosques, not in any way remarkable for architecture, a fine caravanserai, and the fortified castle in which the king received the embassy, are the only buildings of importance. The varieties of races, with different costumes, present a constantly changing picture, a human kaleidoscope, which appears made especially for the astonishment of a stranger. Persians, Afghans, Kyberis, Hazaurehs, Douranis, &c., with horses, dromedaries, and Bactrian camels, afford the naturalist much both to observe and to describe respecting bipeds and quadrupeds. But the charm of this town, as of every other throughout India, is to be found in its gardens, with their abundant and fragrant flowers, especially roses.

The king's situation at this time was far from pleasant. His brother, whom he had dethroned after a popular insurrection, had now taken arms and just seized Cabul. A longer stay was impossible for the embassy. They had to return to India by way of Attock and the valley of Hussoun Abdoul, which is celebrated for its beauty. There Elphinstone was to await the result of the struggle between the brothers, which would decide the fate of the throne of Cabul, but he had received letters of recall. Moreover, fate was against Soojah, who, after being completely worsted, had been forced to seek safety in flight.

The embassy proceeded on its way, and crossed the country of the Sikhs – a rude mountain race, half-naked and semi-barbarous.

"The Sikhs, who a few years later were to make themselves terribly famous," says Elphinstone, "are tall, thin men, and very strong. Their garments consist of trousers which reach only half way down the thigh. They wear cloaks of skins which hang negligently from the shoulder. Their turbans are not large, but are very high and flattened in front. No scissors ever touch either hair or beard. Their arms are bows and arrows or muskets. Men of rank have very handsome bows, and never pay a visit without being armed with them. Almost the whole Punjab belongs to Runjeet Sing, who in 1805 was only one among many chiefs in the country. At the time of our expedition, he had acquired the sovereignty of the whole country occupied by the Sikhs, and had taken the title of king."

No incident of any moment marked the return of the embassy to Delhi. In addition to the narrative of events which had taken place before their eyes, its members brought back invaluable documents concerning the geography of Afghanistan and Cabulistan, the climate, animals, and vegetable and mineral productions of that vast country.

Elphinstone devotes several chapters of his narrative to the origin, history, government, legislation, condition of the women, language, and commerce of these countries; facts that were largely appropriated by the best informed newspapers when the recent English expedition to Afghanistan was undertaken.

His work ends with an exhaustive treatise upon the tribes who form the population of Afghanistan, and a summary of invaluable information respecting the neighbouring countries.

Elphinstone's narrative is curious, interesting, and valuable for many reasons, and may be consulted in our own day with advantage.

The zeal of the East India Company was indefatigable. One expedition had no sooner returned than another was started, with different instructions. It was highly important to be thoroughly au fait of the ever-changing Asiatic policy, and to prevent coalition between the various native tribes against the conquerors of the soil. In 1812, a new idea, and a more peaceful one, gave rise to the journey of Moorcroft and Captain Hearsay to Lake Manasarowar, in the province of the Un-dés, which is a portion of Little Thibet.

This time the object was to bring back a flock of Cashmere goats, whose long silk hair is used in the manufacture of the world-famed shawls. In addition, it was proposed to disprove the assertion of the Hindus that the source of the Ganges is beyond the Himalayas, in Lake Manasarowar. A difficult and perilous task! It was first of all necessary to penetrate into Nepaul, whilst the government of that country made such an attempt very difficult, and thence to enter a region from which the natives of Nepaul are excluded, and with still greater reason the English.

The explorers disguised themselves as Hindu pilgrims. Their suite consisted of twenty-five persons, one of whom pledged himself to walk in strides of four feet! This was certainly a rough method of ascertaining the distance traversed!

Messrs. Moorcroft and Hearsay passed through Bareilly, and followed Webb's route as far as Djosimath, which place they left on the 26th of May, 1812. They soon had to cross the last chain of the Himalayas, with increasing difficulties, owing to the rarity of the villages, which caused a scarcity of provisions and service, and the bad roads, at so great a height above the level of the sea.

Nevertheless they saw Daba, where there is an important lamasery, Gortope, Maisar; and, a quarter of a mile from Tirthapuri, curious hot springs.

The original narrative, which appeared in the "Annales des Voyages," speaks of this water as flowing from two openings six inches in diameter in a calcareous plain some three miles in extent, and which is raised in almost every direction from ten to twelve feet above the surrounding country. It is formed of the earthy deposits left by the water in cooling. The water rises four inches above the level of the plain. It is clear, and so warm that one cannot keep a hand in it longer than a few minutes. It is surrounded by a thick cloud of smoke. The water, flowing over a horizontal surface, hollows out basins of various shapes, which as they receive the earthy deposits contract again. When they are filled up, the flow of the water again hollows out a new reservoir, which in its turn becomes full. Flowing thus from one to the other, it finally reaches the plain below. The deposit left by the water is as white as the purest stucco close to the opening, a little further it becomes pale yellow, and further still saffron-coloured. At the other spring it is first rose-coloured, and then dark red. These different colours are to be found in the calcareous plain, and are no doubt the work of centuries.

Tirthapuri, the residence of a lama, is of great antiquity, and is a favourite rendezvous for the faithful, as a wall more than 400 feet long and four wide, formed of stones upon which prayers are inscribed, sufficiently testifies.

Upon the 1st of August the travellers left this place, hoping to reach Lake Manasarowar, and leaving on the right Lake Rawan-rhad, which is supposed to be the source of the largest branch of the Sutlej.

Lake Manasarowar lies at the foot of immense sloping prairies, to the south of the gigantic mountains. This is the most venerated of all the sacred places of the Hindus, which is no doubt owing to its distance from Hindustan, the dangers and fatigues of the journey, and the necessity of pilgrims providing themselves with money and provisions. Hindu geographers regard this lake as the source of the Ganges, the Sutlej, and the Kali rivers. Moorcroft had no doubt as to the error of this assertion as regards the Ganges. Desiring to ascertain the truth as to the other rivers, he explored the steep banks of the lake, and found a number of streams which flowed into it, but none flowing out of it. It is possible that before the earthquake which destroyed Srinagar, the lake had an outlet, but Moorcroft found no trace of it. The lake is situated between the Himalayas and the Cailas chain, and is of irregular oblong shape, five leagues long by four wide.

The end of the expedition was attained. Moorcroft and Hearsay returned towards India, passed by Kangri, and saw Rawan-rhad; but Moorcroft was too weak, and could not continue the tour; he regained Tirthapuri and Daba, and suffered a great deal in crossing the ghat which separates Hindustan from Thibet.

The narrative describes the wind which comes from the snow-covered mountains of Bhutan as cold and piercing, and the ascent of the mountain as long and painful, its descent slippery and steep, making precautions necessary. "We suffered greatly," says the writer; "our goats escaped by the negligence of their drivers, and climbed up to the edge of a precipice some hundred feet in height. A mountaineer disturbing them from their perilous position, they began the descent, running down a very steep incline. The hinder ones kicked up the stones, which, falling with violence, threatened to strike the foremost. It was curious to note how cleverly they managed to run, and avoid the falling stones."

Very soon the Gorkhalis, who had hitherto been content to place obstacles in the way of the travellers, approached them with intent to stop them. For some time the firmness displayed by the English kept them at bay; but at last, gaining courage from their numbers, they began an attack.

"Twenty men," says Moorcroft, "threw themselves upon me. One seized me by my neck, and, pressing his knees against me, tried to strangle me by tightening my cravat; another passed a cord round my legs and pulled me from behind. I was on the point of fainting. My gun, upon which I was leaning, escaped my hold; I fell; they dragged me up by my feet until I was nearly garotted. When at last I rose, nothing could exceed the expression of fierce delight on the faces of my conquerors. Fearing that I should attempt to escape, two soldiers held me by a rope and gave me a blow from time to time, no doubt to remind me of my position. Mr. Hearsay had not supposed that he should be attacked so soon; he was rinsing out his mouth when the hubbub began, and did not hear my cries for help. Our men could not find the few arms we possessed; some escaped, I know not how; the others were seized, amongst them Mr. Hearsay. He was not bound as I was; they contented themselves with holding his arms."

The chief of this band of savages informed the two Englishmen that they had been recognized, and were arrested for having travelled in the country in the disguise of Hindu pilgrims. A fakir, whom Moorcroft had engaged as a goat-herd, succeeded in escaping, and took two letters to the English authorities. Aid was sent, and on the 1st of November the prisoners were released. Not only were excuses offered for their treatment, but what had been taken from them was returned, and the Rajah of Nepaul gave them permission to leave his dominions. All's well that ends well!

To complete our sketch, we must give an account of Mr. Fraser's expedition to the Himalayas, and Hodgson's exploration to the source of the Ganges, in 1817.

Captain Webb, as we have seen, had traced the course of that river past the valley of Dhoun, to Cadjani, near Reital. Leaving this spot upon the 28th of May, 1817, Captain Hodgson reached the source of the Ganges in three days, and proceeded to Gangautri. He found that the river issues from a low arch in the midst of an enormous mass of frozen snow, more than 300 feet high. The stream was already of considerable size, being no less than twenty-seven feet wide and eighteen inches deep. In all probability the Ganges first emerged into the light at this spot.

Captain Hodgson wished to solve various questions; for example: – What was the length of the river under the frozen snow? Is it the product of the melting of these snows? or did it spring from the ground? But, wishing to explore further upwards than his guides advised, the traveller sank into the snow up to his neck, and had to retrace his steps with great difficulty. The spot from which the Ganges issues is situated 12,914 feet above the level of the sea, in the Himalayas.

Hodgson also explored the source of the Jumna. At Djemautri the mass of snow from which the river makes its escape is no less than 180 feet wide and more than forty feet deep, between two perpendicular walls of granite. This source is situated on the south-east slope of the Himalayas.

The extension of the British power in India was necessarily attended by considerable danger. The various native States, many of which could boast of a glorious past, had only yielded in obedience to the well-known political principle "divide and govern," ascribed to Machiavelli. But the day might come when they would merge their rivalries and enmities, to make common cause against the invader.

This was anything but a cheering prospect for the Company, whose policy it was to maintain the system that had hitherto worked so well. Certain neighbouring States, still powerful enough to regard the growth of the British power with jealousy, might serve as harbours of refuge to the discontented, and become the centres of dangerous intrigues. Of all these neighbouring States that which demanded the strictest surveillance was Persia, not only on account of its contiguity to Russia, but because Napoleon was known to have designs in connexion with it which nothing but his European wars prevented him from putting into execution.

In February, 1807, General Gardane, who had gained his promotion in the wars of the Republic, and had distinguished himself at Austerlitz, Jena, and Eylau, was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to Persia, with instructions to ally himself with Shah Feth-Ali against England and Russia. The selection was fortunate, for the grandfather of General Gardane had held a similar post at the court of the shah. Gardane crossed Hungary, and reached Constantinople and Asia Minor; but when he entered Persia, Abbas Mirza had succeeded his father Feth-Ali.

The new shah received the French ambassador with respect, loaded him with presents, and granted certain privileges to Catholics and French merchants. These were, however, the only results of the mission, which was thwarted by the English General Malcolm, whose influence was then paramount; and Gardane, disheartened by finding all his efforts frustrated, and recognizing that success was hopeless, returned to France the following year.