Schlagwort-Archiv: India

Benares, 10 February 1893

Whoever arrives directly from the majestic cold of the Alpine world to Benares will believe to be in a madhouse. Gods and humans, religion and madness; mysticism and superstition; asceticism and luxury, echoes of deep truths and denial of common sense, godly praying men and crazy fakirs, burning Hindus and dancing bayaderes: all of this is grouped at the river in a hundred varieties and forms, bottles up the streets of the city, rushing, squeezing, pushing, driving — united in a maelstrom and vortex which threatens to envelop the starring stranger made speechless out of astonishment. Only slowly is it possible to collect, observe and think in the midst of this huge human aberration and the infectious manic force.

Benares, the holy city of the Hindus, is the largest place of an annual pilgrimage in India visited by a few hundred thousand pilgrims. It lies on the left, northern bank of the holy Ganges river an covers a large area — containing 222.000 souls — which is filled mostly by temples, mosques and palaces of Indian princes. There are, besides other religious buildings, 1454 Hindu temples and 572 mosques. The city, an ancient site of Brahmin erudition, was originally only dedicated to Buddhist believers until that was displaced by Brahmanism. In the middle of the 17th century incorporated into the Mughal empire its place as a holy city of the Hindus was temporarily lost, namely by Aurangzeb, as eager a believer in Islam as a persecutor of Brahmanism, who had all temples destroyed, scorning the Hindus, and erected partly on the ruins of these temples a large number of mosques along the shores of the Ganges. After the fall of the Mughal reign, having regained their strength, the Hindus built nearly one thousand five hundred new temples displacing the mosques. Even if their number and style might astonish us, we still notice a certain uniformity of style, a feature explained by the fact that all Hindu temples currently standing in Benares date back no longer than the 17th century.

The sun had hardly pieced the morning mist hanging over the holy Ganges when we were already at the shore of the river. Here we rented a short rowing boat and had us rowed up and down the river in order to gain an overview of the palaces and temples and life at the shore. Above the shoreline are a number of palaces that Indian princes such as the Maharajas of Nepal, Jeypore etc. had constructed as local residences for the large number of annual pilgrims from their state. Galleries with ornamented fronts flanked at both ends with massive corner towers are common. Between these palaces stand here and there many Hindu temples, some well maintained some in ruins many of which have been undermined by the active river while others incline so strongly that the difference to the vertical is way beyond that of the leaning tower of Pisa.

Everywhere large open stone stairs (Ghats) lead down to the water in front of the continuing rows of buildings. On these stairs there is a lot of activity going on in the morning which at first seems surprising to a spectator and defies description. Here the pilgrims and the majority of the population of Benares congregate to bathe in the holy river and thus receive absolution for all their sins. Here, the religious life, thinking, feeling and striving of the Hindus are pulsating. Here the scrupulous observation of religious obligations is transformed into crass fanaticism, indolence into enthusiasm. Laymen and priests, men and women of all ages, boys, girls and children push in masses to the get into the water. There a poor old man with snow white hairs, freezing from the cold, submerges himself in the water. Here a group of Brahmin take an expurgating bath. A grandmother old as the hills led by her nephew approaches the river. There a group of bathing girls whose joy is not suffocated by belief. Fidgety crying children are doused with water or dunked into the muddy broth by their parents. Everywhere, however, modesty is preserved and even in the water the light linen cloth are never removed.

The morning was very cool — we were sitting in overcoats in our boat — but the severe cold id not in the least impede the faithful in taking their bath or to remain in the water for extended time. The bathers drank from the disgusting water which has the power to absolve the mortal human of his sins thanks to Shiva’s grace. They sacrifice flowers and rice and other agricultural products. The Brahmins are performing their holy rituals especially festively and glance at the sun, murmur their prayers and offer their sacrifices in strange ceremonies. Pilgrims take the holy water of the Ganges home in large copper containers. The water is also sent out in all parts of the country. In all of Benares one can see carriers of this holy liquidity in the streets.

Just above the bathing places on the Ghat are pillars on stone slabs on which Brahmins are sitting who paint caste signs with diversely colored sandalwood paste on the front and cheeks of the returning bathers. Barbers too had set up their business and were hard at work.

The most terrible spawn of religious paroxism, true caricatures of mankind, however, are the fakirs who are legion in Benares. They sit motionless on the Ghats or on planks swimming in the river, mostly naked, smeared in mud or ashes. Their livelihood is provided by the charity of the believers.

Amidst all the bathing places are the burning locations where numerous Hindu bodies are daily transformed. It is said to be especially godly to be turned into ashes or even die at the shores of the Ganges and serves as a pledge of entry into heaven. For this reason many dying have themselves carried from far away places to the holy river by their relatives to exhale their last breath in view of the flowing river. If death doesn’t strike quickly, the caring relatives will probably assist the process to be able to return home soon. The bodies are handled without piety according to the custom of the land. They are first shaved and washed under the open sky and then put on a wood pile and quickly burned while the relatives quietly and without involvement watch. Finally the remains are thrown into the Ganges close to the places where humans are bathing and drinking the murky water oblivious to the human body parts Vultures, dogs and ravens fight eagerly for so many half-burnt bone.

For a long time, I watched this activity as if to assure me that these disgusting acts were truly happening and not a dream — then I turned myself away with revulsion even ill will from this grizzly spectacle that scoffed human dignity.

Out of the skyline of temples and palaces, the large mosque of Aurangzeb with its large round dome and two thin minarets that tower over the whole city stands out. The mighty conqueror had built the mosque on this especially holy location of the Hindus. On steep dirty stone stairs we went up to the forecourt where a muezzin received us with bows and humbly invited us to go up to the top of one of the minarets. From the first platform, the mosque’s ceiling swarms of parrots and pigeons took off terrified from our unexpected appearance. The further ascent was difficult as one could only advance at a snail’s pace in the narrow space with incredibly steep steps. The grand view over the whole city an the holy river, however, compensates for the effort. The numerous domes of the temples are glittering in the sunshine. A sea of houses lies at our feet. Majestically the mighty river flowed past as if he disdained the maniac actions of these humans moved like puppets by a dark force.

A walk through the praying crowd led us past holy cows, donkeys, goats, sheep and dogs. All those animals stand around in the pushing crowd — truly a drastic background of an image confusing the senses! A large number of vultures and red kites is sitting on the roofs or between the pedestrians eating all garbage on the ground. Goats and sheep intrude into the temples and small temples and eat the sacrificed flowers and wreaths from the idols. We reached a spot where a very holy fakir was mumbling prayers without interruption, having sat there for many years and being supported by alms from believers. Fanatics who want to become dignified fakirs try to obtain the first grade of deadening their senses by holding their breath until they turn blue and green and nearly suffocate. Day after day this procedure is repeated and continued until a state of perfection is attained to reach the desired goal.

A cistern, the holy Manikarnika fountain, 12 m square, with steps that lead down to the water — said to be built in the form of a mythical pond in the Himalayas — is a place of special veneration for the believers. For us it is horror. Here the believers were bathing before they submerged themselves in the Ganges — or more precisely they wallowed in the manure and drank from the foul slurry of decaying matter, old dirt and ill-smelling water.

Over steep stairs along a narrow road we walked to the main Baleshwar temple dedicated to Shiva — called the „golden temple“. The incredible turned into reality: as in the streets and even more in the temples the action of the pilgrim became still crazier than at the riverside. The streets consist mostly of a never-ending row of temples with beautiful and original architecture, proof about a fine taste in art and beauty. Temples and images of the elephant god Ganesha, the monkey god Hanuman, Shiva, the holy bull Nandi, — the Indian Apis — the Lingam in all possible forms and sizes followed one another in a colorful sequence. All holy places were decorated with wreaths by the pilgrims, sprinkled with Ganges water or turned into places of sacrifice of butter and rice. In between merchants were offering with great clamor praying books or small images of the gods while unemployed Brahmins approach to offer their services as guides. The closer we get to the golden temple the denser the pushing and shoving.

Passing by a large symbol of a bull which was being watered eagerly with the Ganges water, we reached the „fountain of insight“ (Gyan Kup), into which during the conquest of Benares by Aurangzeb, according to legend, the guardian of the most noble Hindu temple had thrown the image of Vishnu which had been placed under his protection.Today, this fountain only offers foul water of which every pilgrim will receive a spoonful from a Brahhmin in exchange for a suitable baksheesh.

The Golden Temple which we could see very well from a balcony in a building opposite it, is around 200 years old, made completely out of red sandstone and with gilded cone-shaped ceilings paid by Maharaja Ranjit Singh from Lahore. This ornament has given the temple its name of „golden“. Within and outside, the temple is a true pandemoniums of religious ecstasy that drives the lives of the pilgrim to the highest pitch. A complete crash of human rationality is demonstrated by the behavior of the believers. Even though admission to non-believers is strictly prohibited, we nevertheless entered as far as the threatening means of the pilgrims allowed, guided by a Brahmin supplied copiously with baksheesh. What I have seen is sufficient to give a true image of the interior of the largest an most holy temple of the Hindus, to see the night of madness that overcomes those. The main idol in rich majestic surroundings is an object of a creative force, a Lingam, around which dance a fanatical crowd of beggars, women and men which garland, sprinkle and anoint it without interruption.

In between bells were ringing which were rung by the believers walking among torn flowers, Ganges water and excrement of the holy cows. Arranged around the main idol is a formal museum of other images and idols each of which has its own believers who shout and make noises to perform their rites. Even though we were inside this holy place for only a few minutes I felt dizzy from the relentless impression of so unexpected views. Back in the open air I breathed deeply. The surrounding of the temple is filled with countless lamentable, disgusting, crippled, leprous beggars of both sexes which ask for charity.

Even more horrible, if this was possible, is the temple of Annapurna close by, the temple of the nourishing goddess. All around stand cows considered so holy by the believers that they eat a mixture of all products from the temple cows to be absolved of their sins. Truly a horrible creation of a feverish religious delusion! What a crying hurtful contradiction — here too beautiful architecture, the proof of a blooming human mind, enclosed by dirt, garbage, madness. In the middle of the temple, on some sort of pediment stands a bed, lovingly prepared even with mosquito nets which, according to Hindu beliefs, is used every night by Vishnu’s wife, the goddess Lakshmi, for rest.

I turned to the bazaar and watched some architecturally fascinating facades as well as apparently less intensively visited temples on the way. We were often stopped by the pushing crowd, a true hellish impression in the manner of Brueghel. Here comes a group of pilgrims wet from their bath, there a group of women with Shiva symbols asking god for numerous children, fakirs in their horrible attire and leprous beggars asking for charity. Shrews instructed children on the street in the mysteries of the Hindu religion. Brahmins receive baksheesh from the pilgrims. Noble rajas pass in festive processions, followed by groups of servants and musicians, to the Ganges. Human body upon body only covered with light cloth are carried past me — an interminable change of scenes and images which only the orient an offer in its rich and ugly imagination. Aversion even disgust rose in me and crushed me. Overwhelmed by these impressions and tired, I rushed home to rest.

Newly refreshed I visited the monkey temple in the afternoon. This temple is dedicated to the god Hanuman and offers shelter to countless monkeys which walk around funnily in the interior of the building on its pillars and pediments, fed by believers with sweets and fruits. Only a short time ago there were many thousands of holy monkeys. But their tricks became too much even for the religious Hindus as they caused destruction in all neighborhoods and spared no object from their thievery. This was solved by capturing over a thousand of monkeys, put them in a railway wagons of a special train and drove them off into the countryside and set them free in the jungle. Thus the believers got rid of their tormentor without sinning against the holiness. In the middle of the temple stands a golden figure of the god Hanuman which is visited by both monkeys and pilgrims and is not free from the common dirt.

Here two snake charmers were displaying their art with a number of cobras and pythons. This spectacle repeated itself after our return to the palace when a conjurer presented an interesting fight between a large snake and a small animal looking like a polecat, the so called mongoose. The latter remained victorious. He had very skilfully jumped at the snake’s head and bit off the animal’s head, even though his opponent fought back hard and had embraced it closely. It deserves to be remarked that entertainers and conjurers play an important role in all of India and distinguish themselves favorably in comparison to their European colleagues in performing their stunts without any preparations.

The dancers performing in the palace after the dinner were quite bitterly disappointing. They lacked all beauty, their dances were very boring so that we became very sleepy soon.

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Location: Benares, India
ANNO – on 10.02.1893 in Austria’s newspapers.
The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater plays the comedy “Schach dem König“, while the k.u.k. Hof-Opermtheater offers Weber’s “Der Freischütz”.

Darjeeling to Benares, 9 February 1893

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At half past 7 o’clock we were awakened in Manihari Ghat at the terminal of the narrow gauge railway, crossed the Ganges on a steamboat and continued our journey at Sakrigali Ghat station with the East Indian Railway on to Mughal Sarai, a familiar journey to us. The landscape we were rushing through can not be compared to the luxurious delta areas. It is nevertheless very fertile, densely populated and intensively cultivated. The shores of the Ganges, being part of alluvial sediments, copiously supplying trade plants, bread and garden fruits, carry with them, like all „bread baskets“ of the earth, a character of monotony. The monotony of the Ganges plain, its fertile plains and green fields is only broken up by numerous mango groves and small hills which are peculiarly only sparsely covered with vegetation but are filled with rocks one on top of the other without a rule.

Towards 8 o’clock in the evening we arrived in Mughal Sarai, continued our journey on the Oudh and Rohilkund Railway, passing casually over a 1200 m long iron bridge over the Ganges and arrived after 8 o’clock in station Benares Cantonment. We were received in the station — in absence of the Commissioner — by Mr. Brereton, a communal councilor, and went to our quarters, Nandeshwar Kothi palace owned by the Maharaja of Benares, escorted by mounted police. Like all modern Indian palaces, it is built very airy, decorated without taste so that only a few old pictures of earlier Maharajas catch the attention. We sat around the open fire which comfortingly warmed us as India is said to never have experienced such a harsh winter which might be related to the exceptional cold in Europe of 1892/93. In a Raja double bed of enormous dimensions, surrounded by Raja ancestors looking down astonished at me, I soon entered into the sleep of the just.

Links

Location: Benares, India
ANNO – on 09.02.1893 in Austria’s newspapers. Empress Elisabeth is still sightseeing in Barcelona. A visit to the monastery of Montserrat is on the agenda. Her ship was to set out to Marseille, France. Given the current outbreak of cholera there, her route might change. There was a heavy earthquake on Zakynthos with over 600 houses destroyed, an island Franz Ferdinand passed by on his route from Trieste.
The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater plays a comedy “Der Präsident”, while the k.u.k. Hof-Opermtheater shows Richard Wagner’s “Rheingold”.

Darjeeling, 7 February 1893

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The first look at dawn was towards the mountains or at least in that direction in which the mountains would be visible. Unfortunately we only saw fog, nothing but fog. In a sad mood I spent a few hours with the diary while the gentlemen of my entourage went to the bazaar to buy some things for me. Among others, they returned from their trip a scraggy true Tibetan mountain dog which I had had shipped home at once: a charming animal, with long hair, black, tanned, sized like a shepherd dog, with smart eyes and a black mouth — a special mark of the breed.

Hides of diverse animals especially that of a beautiful red panda (Ailurus fulgens) which I had seen in the bazaar, made me ask the commissioner to organize a hunt. He explained that all the good places are too far away but that here was a wood nearby where we could try our luck and hunt birds. Though this didn’t sound promising, we nevertheless made ready to go and rode in the densest fog on a small mountain track about 350 m down until we reached a steep mountain hillside covered in the most luxurious vegetation. We left our horses behind and entered the jungle maze in multiple parties. I regretted not having taken my nailed mountain shoes from Goisern. Between the trees, ferns and lianas there were so many steep and smooth inclines that I was in touch with mother earth at any one moment. Such mishaps did not diminish my pleasure to track through unknown and unaccustomed terrain which offered new views with every step. Especially the giant sometimes impenetrable ferns caught the eye. Our ornithological catch proved to abundant, letting us hint at the richness of the Ornis in this area in other seasons of the year.

Having Returned to the hotel towards evening, I was standing in the dining room negotiating the acquisition of interesting objects from Inner Tibet when Kinsky rushed in with the news that the mountains were visible. With a jump I was on the terrace and enjoyed the view for a few moments, a view on the mountains which will be carved into my memory for all my life. As if the spirits had had mercy with the human soul who had ventured from so far away to be at the feet of such unapproachable natural giants to appreciate them in all their splendor — the dense fog suddenly departed at high altitude and laid bare the heights in full splendor of the setting sun, „the five white brothers“, Kangchenjunga before us. In shy awe only dares the eye look at the full view at this majestic image, locking in on it fully enchanted. A wall of fog as if grown out of the valleys lies just up to the throning peaks which emerge out of the clouds. A settled chapter of the history of the earth, the mountains, the constant in the change, look in Olympic calm on the growth, bloom and decay of peoples — these ephemeral beings in the aeons of existence. Little was granted to my view; but even the little is of such splendor that I could imagine the total greatness of the full picture which was denied to me. A feeling of human helplessness overcame me in view of nature at such a grand scale — even the most hard-headed person has to bow their head in humility and lift it again enthusiastically in view of what had been given to me.

Only one drop of bitterness in the goblet of joy — that my beloved at home, far away from me, can not participate in this splendid spectacle, in the deepest emotions it awakens. There is truth in the plain saying; Shared joy, double the joy!

The mountain spirits seemed to regret to have experienced a human feeling and to have presented the virgin mountains on which never a human’s step was heard to the eye of mortals — the fog rises, become denser and denser, the rosy tinted peaks fade away, their contours melt away and finally the magic image has disappeared.

Links

Location: Darjeeling, India
ANNO – on 07.02.1893 in Austria’s newspapers. The Emperor has visited the new building of the top-notch polyclinic in Vienna’s 9th district in Mariannengasse. His guide was the physician and writer Arthur Schnitzler.
The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater plays Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”, while the k.u.k. Hof-Opermtheater is performing Meyerbeer’s opera “Die Hugenotten”.

Darjeeling, 6 February 1893

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Thus on this audacious human-created vehicle we drove up the Himalaya, the highest mountain range on Earth! Created by elementary revolutions, in nearly unreachable peak striving towards heaven, the Himalaya, „the snow helmet“, rises over the colossal mountain wall which separates the Aryans from the Mongols, India from Inner Asia. Never has an enemy crossed it, timidly they passed it by. Stretching over 24 degrees of longitude, from the Hindu Kush to the gap of Brahmaputra, the Himalaya stands on its northern en on the bare plateau of Tibet and on its southern end on the Indian subcontinental plain. It separates the climates, plants, animals, peoples and cultures of Inner Asia and South Asia.

Through the present valley we approached his region. rise to his southern precursors which look down on blooming, green, luxurious wooden mountains fanned by delicious air. We look out towards the peaks of the central mountain range. Beyond the northern precursor range lies wild bare and jagged highland. Across the wood covered mountains that border this valley to the north the railway winds itself up to Darjeeling, up to the foot of the biggest glacier groups of the Earth, up to the region in which tower Dhaulagiri (8176 m), Kangchenjunga (8585 m) and that highest peak on Earth we call Mount Everest (8840 m) or Gaurisankar. Kangchenjunga — „the five white brothers“ — whose giant mountain range covered in eternal snow, criss-crossed by glaciers and rising out of thick woods we have come to see lies in Sikkim, a small protectorate wedged between Nepal and Bhutan. It is linked to the Ganges plain by the audacious mountain railway that ends in Darjeeling.

Driven by the hope to be able to admire the magic of this incredibly beautiful and majestic mountain world in its fullest splendor, I looked out of my window long before sunrise to observe the weather and draw my conclusions whether we would have a clear, fog free day or not. Even though the morning was clear and the sunrise promised to e beautiful, I discovered in the west small, lengthy cloud streaks which are interpreted in our own mountains at home to all experienced weather prophets as a bad sign as they indicated rain or fog most of the times. Unfortunately, these unmistakable signs proved true here too. When we reached the foot of the outer mountains we saw the peaks already covered in fog.

After 7 o’clock we departed from Siliguri. The mountain railway Siliguri—Darjeeling, which is 82 km long and reaches an altitude of 2180 m is probably the most interesting railway in the world. Not so much due to its construction and installations but because of its incredible panorama views it offers. The railway has a track gauge of only 61 cm. To offer a free full view, it has open carriages and can absolutely be called an audacious and unique work. Please consider this: a mountain railway which reaches such heights without a tunnel and has cost in total — according to the chief engineer — only 231.000 fl. in Austrian currency! The puzzle is partially solved by the fact that the railway ha only construct a special railway bed for 24 km, while it could use the existing mountain road bed which winds itself up in the sharpest turns; the railway ascends in such serpentines and bends that, in many spots, one can already see, some meters above, the tracks to be driven over in the minutes to come Where serpentines and bends would not be sufficient to ascend a steep height, this is solved by having the railway continue straight for a time only to turn at a sharp angle into the opposite direction with the machine pushing, to ascend the heights in a zigzag way.

But what are all this technical arts against the splendor and diversity of nature! Born in green Styria and loving the mountains above all, it has always been my most ardent wish to get to know the king of all mountains, the Himalaya, and to see the tropical mountain world. Even though I have read and heard so much about the extraordinary beauty of the Himalaya, what I now saw surpassed all my expectations and put me into a state of indescribable rapture. The light clear mountain air alone is extremely refreshing — no wonder that we all by and then started yodeling in the waggon as if we were in the mountains of Upper Austria. Even though the fog unfortunately covered all peaks with an impenetrable veil and also the visibility from afar was lessened, that what we could see close up was sufficient to make the journey unforgettable.

The attractions of the landscape all around are truly amazing: a mountain higher than 8000 m, covered up to an elevation of 3000 m with tropical vegetation, mighty mountain ranges, deeply cut valleys, overhanging rocks, cragged slopes, boundless abysses — all green or becoming blurred in tender purple colors. And what a plant cover girdles the south end of the Himalaya! The vegetation makes one think of that on Ceylon; but even higher and more beautiful as the giant trees on Ceylon the trunks here with their luxurious leaf crowns strive upwards; even thicker and wilder are the plants entwined around the trunk and branches. The trees are up to the highest branch covered with ferns, orchids and other parasite plants, while thick lianas connect the trunks with each other. And even cragged slopes, the wildest abysses are covered with a green carpet of thickly placed trees. At each turn, at each serpentine a new image captures us. Especially the many abysses many thousand meters deep which one drives alongside at shoulder length add much diversity to the panorama.

Like the character of the county, so the people have changed — we are in Sikkim, at border to Tibet and China. Here in Sikkim live tribes which even though they mixed their blood with Indian blood and have been influenced by Indian culture, they remain in type and language close to the Tibetans. The Lepcha people which live in Sikkim and also in Darjeeling, are unmistakably part, despite some Aryan elements, of the semi-culture peoples of the Mongolian race. Inner Asian imprints are also typical for the inhabitants of the small, dispersed mountain villages. Of pure Mongolian type are the Tibetans who have immigrated here from the north as traders of workers. The type of the Lepchas is completely different from all the peoples already seen. At first glance one notices the features of the Mongolian race: the yellow-brown color of the skin, the broad face, the small slanted eyes, the strong bulging jawbones, the small stature, the coarse hair, the sparse growth of beard. Both men and women are extremely ugly. The latter have the strange custom to grease their faces with ox blood in winter as a protection against the cold which gives them an especially hideous appearance. The most extreme look are created by widows who color their noses black as a sign of mourning.

The men’s dress consists of a long colored kaftan kept in place by a broad belt into which are pushed weapons, plus at the upper end loose and at the lower end narrowing pants and high colored boots cut from a single hide or Cracow shoes. On the head, the lepchas wear felt hats or caps strongly reminding of Chinese caps. The neck is embellished by silver gems, small turqouis amulets or coral bands. Some men wear instead of the Kaftan some sort of shirt and cover it with an open coat made out of thick loden. The women have wide clothes with folds as well as belts and seemed to love jewelry very much as even the poorest adorn themselves with chain-amulets and especially turqouis ear rings. Some wear on their head a straight standing circlet of turqouis and coral. The braids which adorns both genders as well as the fingers are decorated with rings.

During the drive we came past some small villages. Our wagons nearly touched the houses and this offered us the opportunity to glance at the activities of daily life of the Lepchas who still are at a still very primitive level of civilization. A chilling impression during these observations make the ugly dirt which is everywhere. Strange is the common method here to determine somebody’s age. The Lepchas calculate their age according to the number of worn clothes. Thus one gets the answer: „This one or that one is seven clothes old.“

From time to time there is a stop at a station to refill water for the locomotives. These moments are used by the natives to close in to the wagons and offer many beautiful weapons, especially sharply polished knives.

At the elevation of 1525 m is a subsidiary of a Jesuit college of St. Xaver in Calcutta. Then it goes up even more and finally we drive past some patches of snow, the marks of the last strong snowfall.

The higher we were the colder it was and the thicker became the fog so that the view around became more and more limited. One could not see anything of the mountain peaks and also the valleys now began to covered in fog. Thus I had time to look at things at a closer range, to look at the fauna. The mighty giant trees with their aerial roots enchanted me not less than the huge diversity of ferns of which there were many species from the mighty tree fern which grows here in large quantities to the small ferns that resemble female hair. Up to now I had seen tree ferns only as crippled specimens in our green houses. Now I could see thousands of these splendid plants at an elevation of 2000 m.

„At higher elevations, the beauty of the landscape is impacted by the many tea plantations; because everywhere, even at the steepest inclines and at the most cragged slopes has the cultivating hand of man seeking profit destroyed the majestic jungle.and replaced by rows of tea plants. Against the ancient trunks of many hundred years is raged barbarically; as wood is of so little value here that one uses a simple method to gain more space for cultivation: The woods are simply burned to the ground on thousands of hectares. The prose of economic life does not feel constrained by the poetry of the enchanting vegetation. It is understandable then that the destruction of the woods ordained to death is proceeding in the cheapest way possible at large scale. But the unplanned destruction may cause grave problems. The wood will revenge itself for the neglect. A hurtful feeling rises in a friend of woods when he sees pillars of smoke grow out of fires that destroy parts of ancient wild nature — only to gain ground for the cultivation of tea. How large the economic interest may be, it can not excuse that tea has been the driving force or excuse to organize countless soirées and afternoon teas.

At 10 o’clock in the morning, we reached Kurseong Station, where Hotel Clarendon was festively decorated, and arrived at 1 o’clock in Darjeeling, in Tibetan „sacred place“. Here we were received by the deputy commissioner Mr. Waller and major Ommaney as well as a large crowd of Europeans and natives. Darjeeling, founded in 1835, is now the capital of the district of the same name (3196 km²), which the English have split off from the protectorate of Sikkim, whose raja resides in Tamlung, for an annual rent of around 3750 fl. in Austrian currency.

Due to its high elevation and its gorgeous climate, Darjeeling is a favorite summer retreat in India. Its mild climate, which equals about that of Meran, is given testimony by the fact that in this blessed place tea is planted at up to 2000 m, fruits at an elevation of close to 3000 m and the cultivation of grains is possible at more than 3000 m. The small town consists beyond the small native quarter with a rich bazaar mostly of villas, hotels and public buildings, in particular Sanatoriums and hospitals which overflow in summer with Europeans, mainly from Calcutta. Situated on a flank of the Jalapahar, a ridge of the main Himalaya range, Darjeeling is looking towards the north on to the mountain of Kangchenjunga, while in other parts of the world the eye can see numerous mountain ridges, peaks and green valleys of the mighty mountain. From time to time, the sun made an appearance and peaked for a few moments at the houses of Darjeeling The mountains remained covered in impenetrable clouds.

We first made ourselves comfortable in the Woodlands Hotel and then began to take a walk to a bazaar which turned out to be a rich ethnographic treasure for me. Here were interesting weapons, knives which could cut rupees with a single strike, strange sun dials on a stick, numerous idol figures in bronze, original jewelry, finally a number of musical instruments and drums, among them some made out of human skulls, as well as pipes from human hip bones. The drums consist of two inverted skulls pushed together whose lower parts have been cut and replaced with hide. A drumstick with a metallic button makes it vibrate to create sound. The skulls are said to be of adulterers who were condemned to death in Tibet and whose heads are then reused for musical purposes. A drastic expression of deterrence theory! At a German trader’s I found a valuable butterfly and bird skin collection which I acquired for my museum. Darjeeling yields the most in all of India in terms of butterflies and beetles; the diversity and color range of the individual specimens is truly wonderful.

Our hope that we could see the mountains even for an instance was not realized; the fog proved to be merciless.

In the evening, after the dinner which we took freezing in an airy glass saloon of the hotel, we were surprised by Mr. Waller with a Tibetan dance which was performed in an open space even though it was raining heavily. This did not cool the fiery ardor of the dancing artists. The accompanying music resembled Indian music in its monotony, with plentiful use of kettledrums and cymbals. The dance was much more intense, even wild and more adapted to the character of a rebellious mountain tribe. Especially the ladies were in their movements very active and accompanied the dance with a howling song which sounded like a war cry. Men and women did not dance together but separated according to gender. The dance illustrated, among others, the fight against wild animals. Two men who wore grotesque masks similar to our clowns rushed as „wild animals“ at one of the dancers and began to wrestle with him, which then turned into an alternating dance of the wild animals and the dancer. Dragons, lions and giant birds were brought alive drastically by the artists.

Links

Location: Darjeeling, India
ANNO – on 06.02.1893 in Austria’s newspapers. The Neue Freie Presse offers a recap of Franz Ferdinand’s stay in India up to now and an outlook of his trip to Nepal in March.

Franz Ferdinand in India, Neue Freie Presse 6.2.1893, p. 3, part a

Franz Ferdinand in India, Neue Freie Presse 6.2.1893, p. 3, part b

The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater plays a comedy “Der Störefried”, while the k.u.k. Hof-Opermtheater is performing a ballet “Ein Tanzmärchen”.

Tandur, 23 January 1893

Hinterlasse eine Antwort

Even though the council of the experienced hunters had decided to leave camp early to have time for multiple hunts, it was already 10 o’clock, due to fatal propensity for unpunctuality and time waste of the local Europeans and also the natives, when we finally did move. The time to departure was shortened by a sport new to me — an improvised falcon hunt. Some Hindus from Hyderabad had brought along trained falcons and a captured heron which they set free in the camp. As soon as the heron had reached a certain distance, they removed a falcon’s cap and swiftly the falcon flew towards the escaping heron, ascended up into the sky and then descended like a flash upon the heron striking it with its claws to the ground. Then it struck the heron’s back with its claws and beak and started to gorge. Two more falcons were launched into the air. They expertly caught a dead crow thrown up in the air.

But more important matters were awaiting us. Again we were promised much: the tiger must have certainly killed, they must certainly be between two of the tracking groups as their roars had been heard.

We rode on the same path as the day before until we reached the large tamarind where we again held a meeting for consultation. Every one of us was selected to mount on an elephant. It was the first time I sat in a hâuda. A peculiar, strange feeling to hover above the ground in a tub-like container on the back of a giant animal. With every step of the elephant it moved back and forth like in a ship. Even the mounting is difficult but not without comic effects: The elephant kneels down. One steps up over the rear legs on the inclined back and then hoists oneself into the hâuda. The elephant then stands up again, first with the front legs, then follow the short rear legs, so that the hâuda is almost horizontal but it is recommended to hold on tight to avoid being swept out.

The elephant is led by the Mahawat who sits on the animal’s head and indicates both speed and direction with a sharp hook (Gadschbag) , pricking the skin now right now left. The animal and its guide are living together in harmony despite the often un gentle treatment of the animal. The Mahawat talks without interruption with the smart animal and it fulfills with all the guide’s wishes, in sitting down on command, lifting one foot in the air to let the Mahawat mount the elephant, to raise the trunk and lower it, and it does whatever the guide demands. If the elephant turns naughty which happens from time to time, it is kicked sharply in the trunk which is answered by a trumpet-like cry. When the elephant come to a stream, they drink with their trunks or they pump it into their mouth so that if the heat is harsh and the flies to vexing, they can take some of the water from the mouth with the trunk and spray it over their body. Some Mahawat let their animals lay down and take a bath like this. Against flies, the elephants are very sensitive despite their thick skin: They chase them away with a large twig which they tear from a tree. One should not assume an elephant will stand still even for a minute. It will chase away flies that harry it or eat grass or leaves or swivel the trunk in the air — with one word, the hauda is permanently moving what makes it extraordinarily difficult to shoot safely from it.

At a small pond, the shikaris showed me a large tiger track that were said to be at least two days old. On a hill covered with bushes, we were placed in line at a distance of around 100 m each: first Stockinger and Prónay, then Wurmbrand, Clam, me, at the right flank Kinsky.

In front of our positions, there were natives sitting on tall trees reaching out of the bushes whose task it was to indicate the presence of a tiger with a large red cloth and point in the direction it was moving,

Due to our bad calculations, we had to wait in our positions for one and a half hours before the tracking started, which was not appreciated given the heat and the constantly shifting elephants. Finally the signal was given to start the hunt: Four drumbeats. Soon we could hear the infernal cries of the trackers around 1000 m away, together with shots fired into the air, trumpet blasts, drumbeats and the screed of ratchets. With utmost attention we were waiting for the tiger to appear out of the jungle at any moment now. What did not appear, was a tiger. Instead we saw the trackers come closer — they were about 300 of them, constantly moving and exceedingly cautious, usually one behind the other standing in the most convenient spots, as these people obviously have great respect about tigers and are unwilling to advance before they have thrown a stone into the next bush so that even a small distance of a few 100 meters took a relatively long time for them to cover.

The natives of this region did not make a good impression on me as they seemed to be not very courageous, unreliable, not skillful and rather careless. If one wants to explain something to them or give them an order, it takes a long time as all shout and cry amongst themselves and then do the opposite of what they were requested to do.

As soon as the trackers appeared, they had a long tale to tell: The tiger had been in the jungle, one man had seen it but the tiger managed to escape – a tale I thought was fiction. But we were at our wit’s end. We wanted to continue the hunt but our hunting director explained to us that he had first to discuss this with the shikaris, then send them out again. Besides, the trackers would require a pause which I found astonishing as they had started but one hour ago. Finally another lunch helped to gloss over the local misbehavior. Having lost further precious time in this unnecessary procedure, we continued the hunt at half past four o’clock to chase after a very certain track, at least they said so.

We rode on the elephants into a pleasant valley surrounded by steep rocky sides when one shikari came running, gesticulating wildly. He reported that he had heard the tiger roar nearby. At the same time, he showed the calf allegedly killed just now but whose decomposition proved the shikari an instant liar. It looked like it had died at least six days ago and had nearly completely up to the bones been eaten by vultures . On a tree nearby, twenty or more large vultures cared little about our presence and continued to sit there quietly watching us.

As the elephants could not stand on the large rocks, we climbed up on mighty trees on whose upper branches were laid poles to construct a most airy place which offered the opportunity to sit down as well provide a bit of cover by the leaves on the branches. We were set up in a half-circle of shooters and waited for the action to begin. The tracking completely looked like the first one, only it took even longer as the trackers displayed utmost respect towards the ravine where it was said that the calf had been killed. They shot into the ravine for not less than an hour and made all kinds of noice before they dared to enter it. The sun had set a long time ago, the moon and the stars were up on the sky when the trackers finally reached our position.

Shortly before that a large owl had flown straight out of the rock cliff to my tree. With a bullet I shot the bird which, placing itself a bit above my head, had looked at me astonished with its large yellow eyes. Soon thereafter, a mongoose ran past my tree but I failed to shot the timid animal.

It was soon getting dark so that we on our elephants had to return to the camp. From there a number of Hindus with torches were marching towards us. The failure of the hunt had a bit diminished our good mood so that Clam excited everyone to laughter when he took one of the torches and improvised some kind of Arabian fantasy together with Prónay.

I can not explain why this hunting expedition, despite extensive and expensive preparations, ended without success. I believe, however, not to be completely wrong if I suspect the reason for the failure lay mostly in the dullness and unreliability of the natives as well as the leadership of the expedition was assigned not only according to hunting skills but personal relations what might easily happen given the size and complications of this expedition.

Tomorrow we will have to leave camp and dismantle it. I had no proud feeling about having neither seen nor shot the long-awaited tiger. Still I had some sentiment of satisfaction, as the romantic stay in a tent city, the life in open air, had presented a rich contrast between civilization and wilderness and offered the opportunity to get accustomed to the natives in a casual manner. Thus, the three day expedition in the hunting camp of Tandur was in total a very interesting episode.

Unfortunately two of our company were sick: Kinsky as well one marine who we had taken along from the „Elisabeth“, both were heavily stricken by fever,

Links

Location: near Tandur, India
ANNO – on 23.01.1893 in Austria’s newspapers, The press is already filled with news about the upcoming wedding of Franz Ferdinand’s sister. The king of Württemberg and his wife already arrived yesterday in Vienna for this occasion and were received by the Emperor and the Viennese high society.
The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater is performing a drama „Frau Susanne“, while the k.u.k Hof-Operntheater is repeating the performance of the ballet „Excelsior“.

Tandur, 22 January 1893

Hinterlasse eine Antwort

The English and native hunters did only want to leave camp at 11 o’clock explaining that the tigers are slower and easier to hunt at that hour. I did not agree with this late departure but followed the local customs. So we sent out our trackers and rifles with a number of elephants as an advance and followed half an hour later on the Nizam’s horses.

These horses are strangely broken in, or in our understanding, really broken for use. On their haunches, these horses are used to be constantly assisted by the rider to make bella figura, so that they prance around without interruption and rear up, which is barely tolerable for longer periods of time.

The tiger hunting area are low hilly ridges with bushes, with small ravines and valleys which remind me in character and view of the hills near Sopron.

Already in Bombay we received at least three telegrams a day which informed us that the tiger has killed at a certain place and that therefore success was nearly a certainty. Thus we were very hopeful and rode with joyful anticipation, We had hardly ridden a few miles and were close to the hunting spot when various shikaris came running and, vividly gesticulating, informed our hunting master Mr. Stevens. When I asked him he told me that the chances were not as high as originally expected, as the report about the killed calf was erroneous. It had torn itself away and was still alive and kicking.

Soon afterwards, natives arrived with whom the shikaris went into long consultation with the result that there was nothing to do today as the tiger had not killed anything and the best option was to return to camp. Bitterly disappointed by this message we breakfasted for comfort under a large tamarind and returned to camp by the same way we came under the certain expectation to find the tracked tiger.

As the clock only announced two o’clock, I with my gentlemen rode across the land to add something to my ornithological collection and enrich the kitchen table. In the cultivated fields where we expected to certainly meet some chicken or jackals we strangely found no game, in contrast the shores of the many small ponds and wet rice paddies were rich in common snipes and sandpipers so that we could hand our cook quite a number of animals.

Prior to our departure, I had had laid out a skinned sheep as bait near the native huts around our camp, so that I could, after our return to camp, kill within minutes 13 scavenger vultures (Neophron ginginianus) and 2 pariah kites (Milvus govinda).

Links

Location: near Tandur, India
ANNO – on 22.01.1893 in Austria’s newspapers, Empress Elisabeth is currently sightseeing in Sevilla. The readers are informed that the Empress ate some pastry in the Café Suizo, famous for its chocolate. Given the extremely harsh dietary regimen of the Empress, that information must have been noteworthy.
The Wiener Salonblatt carries a short report about Franz Ferdinand in India. Noteworthy is how Franz Ferdinand’s account completely ignores the presence of the black sheep, archduke Leopold Ferdinand who was finally recalled to be off Franz Ferdinand’s back.

The Archdukes Franz Ferdinand and Leopold Ferdinand are received by the dignitaries of Bombay. (Wiener Salonblatt, 22 January 1893, no. 4, p. 4)

The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater is performing a tragedy by Grillparzer in the afternoon, „Sappho“, and a comedy in the evening „Der Störefried“, while the k.u.k Hof-Operntheater repeats once again its ballet combo in the afternoon and in the evening, it is time for Gounod’s opera „Margarethe (Faust)“.

Tandur, 21 January 1893

Hinterlasse eine Antwort

After a bad night spent in an unaccustomed way, the first thing I saw was the honor guard of the troops of the Nizam of Hyderabad which were receiving me in Wadi at the border of their „state“, more precisely a territory of a prince under British protection. Even though equipped with all the trappings of power and ruling an area of 214.000 km² with 11.5 millions of inhabitants, the Nizam of Hyderabad or Golkonda is not really an independent but a tributary Maharaja, guarded by an English resident and a British occupation force under the pretense of protecting the Nizam.

I lay still in bed and could not leave it quickly and only watched through the window at the festively decorated station. The honor guard consisted of beautiful black people with twirled moustaches and sideburns.

The area we were driving through to Tandur was without charm, a large plain, only now and then broken by low ridges where cultivated areas alternate with large, bare and sterile areas on which barely a thorny bush grows and stone and where rock formations ad erratic blocks become visible. In the fields one can see the cultivation of flax, ricinus, jowari (a type of sorghum), cotton, maize and tobacco. Peculiar is the manner of plowing fields which still relies on very primitive plows, simple tree trunks with a root hook. The harrow is represented by tied brushwood and the fruit is simply uprooted by hand in places where scythes and sickles are unknown.

Everywhere one notices destroyed or decayed forts and other types of fortifications near the villages – as the houses of the natives are already built out of stone. These ruins are monuments to the time when the rajas and princes of the land were living in constant feud among themselves. Also there are Portuguese forts with round corner towers and crenellated walls still standing.

After a 22 hour train ride from Wadi with the Nizam’s Guaranteed State Railway we reached Tandur where a three day hunting expedition was planned. The Nawab Vicar ul-Umra, a cousin of the Nizam’s minister, followed by many Englishmen and shikaris, had come to welcome me at the station. Among those present was also the commander of the Nizam’s troops, Colonel Nevill ((Colonel Richard Nevill C.I.E. entered the Nizam’s service in 1874 as Major, appointed Commander of the Indian Empire C.I.E. for services rendered to the Colonial and Indian exhibition in 1886 as representative of the Nizam. Died in 1896.)) who had entered our train already at Wadi and told me his life story in fine Viennese dialect even though he was born an Englishman. He had formerly served in our army and has been a captain of the Haller hussars, During the visit of His Majesty in Milan in the year 1857, Nevill served as an orderly of His Majesty. At the battle of Magenta, acting as adjutant to Gyulay, he had received the military honors cross with wartime service decoration. He retired honorably after that campaign and moved back to England from where he later went to India to enter into the service of the Nizam. As Generalisso, he is said to occupy an important position at his court,

It took quite a long time until we were ready to go as the transfer of all the baggage necessary for the hunt required extensive time and the communication with the natives proved difficult. In their ardor they often picked the wrong pieces instead of the right ones. Finally, everything was ready. In a large golden coach drawn by four artillery horses we drove first through Tandur which still had walled enclosures and fortifications then some miles across the countryside to reach the hunting camp about 16 km distant which we were set to occupy during the next thee days. I was truly surprised to see a complete tent city in a large open square arrangement equipped with the highest possible level of comfort and luxury.

In the middle of the camp opposite its entrance stands the large dining hall tent. It offers room for a table for 20 persons and has a large parlor in front of it under a tent roof with the mo are the tents intended for us. Each one of us was allocated an individual tent with an excellent bed, a very elegant desk and some furniture and swell rugs. The tent for me had furthermore a flag pole with my standard on it and was remarkable by its size and has the appearance of a house. The 18 tents we occupied are surrounded by a separation wall outside of which stood 40 tents for the bands of servants, cooks, hunters and grooms. About 400 natives which were to serve as laborers and trackers are housed in leaf huts among which graze cows, buffaloes, goats and sheep in herds which would supply our daily meat as, to express it in military terms, the commissary requirements of our camp exceeded 500 men.

At the camp entrance stood a native honor guard of 30 men to which were added seven large elephants, intended for the coming hunting days, and 20 richly decorated majestic Arabian horses supervised by two equerries in green uniforms.

This hunting camp in a truly grand manner I owed to the Nizam of Hyderabad who had asked about my health by telegram and whether I was satisfied with the prepared accommodations,

After the arrival in the camp, the Nizam’s son was presented to me to whom I expressed with the help of an interpreter my pleasure about this grand reception in the Hyderabad territory.

Then we inspected the horses which were presented by the equerries of Nizam and the elephants whose long tusks were protected from splintering by thick, richly decorated iron rings,

As soon as our baggage had arrived, I changed into hunting dress and explored the surrounding area with Wurmbrand while other gentlemen went for a ride. During our short expedition I bagged many representatives of many new bird species unknown to me, among them tiny quails (Turnix dussumieri), — called „button-quail“ by the English — and doves, singing birds and chats. On small tamarinds I found for the first time a large number of the artfully braided nests of weavers.

The flora was not very richly represented, only a bushlike Rosaceae with rich yellow flowers was noticed by me which found use as an offering in temples after the practical Indians found the gold sacrifices of former times too costly. Thus instead of yellow gold, they sacrifice yellow flowers Who doesn’t remember the lamentations of Calchas about the decreasing propensity to sacrifice …

Very favorable news about the tigers arrived. It is said that they have seized a tied calf and were in a jungle nearby according to the shikaris. In the evening I received a telegram from Mr Jevers of Colombo which contained the good news that a large elephant probably the one I shot and wounded on 8th January. It was found dead about 1000 m from the place where I had shot it,

Links

Location: near Tandur, India
ANNO – on 21.01.1893 in Austria’s newspapers, On its front page, the Neue Freie Presse informs its readers that the former Serbian king and queen have reconciled themselves after an earlier scene in Biarritz. In Bornemouth, England, was arrested Cornelius Herz, one of the key operators responsible for the Panama scandal, He is expected to be rendered to France for prosecution. The newspaper reports that Franz Ferdinand spent his time in Bombay mostly by sightseeing.
The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater is playing the comedy „Die Welt in der man sich langweilt“, while the k.u.k Hof-Operntheater had a special honorary event for invited guests, a théâtre paré.

From Bombay to Tandur, 20 January 1893

Hinterlasse eine Antwort

Having used the morning to prepare the mail, I drove to Tellery again to complete my shopping, third time being a charm.

At noon there was a group photography to preserve a fixed memory of my visit at Government House of me, Lord and Lady Harris and all the staff of the house.

Then I inspected the stables of Lord Harris. In open boxes Australian carriage horses as well as English and Arabian riding horses and polo ponies are quartered. Acting as an equerry of the governor is his personal doctor who masters this task as outstandingly as the medicinal one. The horses are in fine condition, although some are broken down due to the sharp turns, namely on chivvies on hard ground. In all of India, one preferably uses Australian horses, tall and strong with their characteristic carp back, as carriage horses. The price of these horses fluctuates between 380 and 1550 fl. in Austrian currency. To ride and play polo one uses in British India mostly Arabians and some locally raised animals. Very funny are the 12 to 14 hands high ponies of which first-rate specimen can be had for the ridiculous price of 12 to 17 fl. in Austrian currency.

Now it was time to leave Bombay behind. I said good.bye to Lady Harris and drove with Lord Harris to the station where the special train of the vice king was awaiting me which the vice king has been put at my disposition for the duration of my journey across India. With heartfelt thanks I and the governor parted ways and soon the train rode towards our next destination, Tandur, where we were expected to hunt tigers.

Well acquainted with the English grasp of the relationship between comfort and luxury and expecting to see the special train of the highest magistrate of India equipped to the utmost Oriental opulence, I was truly astonished about the simplicity of the fittings and equipment of the wagons of this train which would leave many an Englishman to miss their familiar comfort, especially in matter of the bedding. Especially remarkable was the fact that the wagons and even the individual compartments were without direct passages, corridors or doors so that the „cell mates“ of the neighboring compartments could only communicate during the rare way stations.

From Bombay to Tandur which lies in a south-eastern direction of Bombay, we made use of the Great Indian Peninsula Railway to Wadi. It first crosses Bombay’s suburbs, then past Parel and the government salt mines across a large bridge over the estuary that separates Salsette island from the mainland and then turns towards the mountains.

The physiognomy of the area changes quickly. High mountains, rich in bizarre forms, assembled out of regular parallel layers that display themselves as long strips or lines, followed by valleys dedicated mostly to growing rice. Small palm tree groves, some tall palm trees alternate with thin Euphorbia hedges, but the vegetation is not as rich and majestic as in Ceylon. Higher up the mountain, the valley are narrower with dry yellow grass and some crooked trees, steep and abrupt ridge. In the valleys and canyons deep down below us one can see teak trees (Tectona grandis), wild bananas, Ficus religiosa und Ficus indica.

The railway is built similar to the one from Colombo to Kandy with steep ascents, crosses many tunnels and offers charming views on the fancy rock needles, the long, narrow and steep wall-like rocky ridges, the mostly bare tops of the Western Ghats. Ghats are called the stair-like steps of the numerous parallel mountain ranges on the Indian West and East coast bordering the Dekhan high plateau. To the south the seemingly less wild than arduous Western Ghats at an average altitude of 1200 m and the lower and less important Eastern Ghats continue in mountain ranges of up to 2630 m that are covered in woods, called Nilgiri Hills (blue mountains). At Lanauli Station the railway reaches its highest point and continues almost at an even altitude across cultivated land. Late at night we passed Poona, 119 km south-east of Bombay, the favorite summer retreat of the governor. The same location also has camps for all troops that maneuver there.

Links

Location: Poona, India
ANNO – on 20.01.1893 in Austria’s newspapers, The Neue Freie Presse reminds its readers about the centenary of the execution of Louis XVI of France iby guillotine on 21st January 1793 which plunged Austria into two decades of war first against the French republic then Napoleon. Much space is devoted to the report about the fourth ball of the city of Vienna. The weather is still dreadful, even though some sport is taking place on the frozen Danube canal.
The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater is playing the comedy „Magnetische Kuren“, while the k.u.k Hof-Operntheater combines the opera „Freund Fritz“ (l’amico Fritz) by Pietro Mascagni with Carinthian songs „Am Wörthersee“.

Bombay, 19 January 1893

Hinterlasse eine Antwort

Early in the morning we drove in gala coaches of the governors, escorted by a part of the guard, to the docks to inspect the Lloyd ship „Elektra“ which arrived two days ago. The docks built and owned by trading companies are impressive structures both in their extent as well as their requirements for the installation of the necessary equipment for the transport of goods. It is a testament to entrepreneurship which makes one feel meek if one compares it to home. Beside the docks stand warehouses through which the stream of arriving and departing goods flows: As the blood flows without interruption in the numerous branches of the veins in a human organism, bringing blood to the heart and moving it away again, so here barrels and bales roll without interruption on rails to and from the warehouses. In these grandiose warehouses on can feel the pulse of moving goods. The steam cranes look like the arms of a giant working for mankind — Gulliver among the Lilliputians — lifting the heaviest burdens like child’s play. Without rest and recovery, in constant motion, the dock acts as the motor of the goods trade; seemingly chaotic it is still obeying a very strict order built by the organizing force of the merchant …

„Elektra“ arrived from Shanghai filled with tea and hides, and added cotton to its load for Trieste. The mighty ship had hoisted the flags, like all the ship the dock, and presented itself in all her glory. Having inspected the „Elektra“ closely, I can recommend the well known comfort of the Lloyd ships as they continue to set standards in friendliness and cleanliness. It is joyful to hear that Englishmen too prefer to make use of the Lloyd ships. Certainly a moment that looks very favorably to our Lloyd, especially as the competition among the different shipping companies is such that it goes beyond the true demand and poses risks for real enterprises that continue to preserve outdated traditions and specific manners of a local character. Where this goal is questionable to achieve, one may not refrain from even larger government subsidies than at present, as these subsidies will be rewarded with golden fruits by a management that appreciates the importance of the enterprise not only for the shareholders but also the national production and the monarchy’s reputation whose flag is represented by Lloyd ships in all oceans. With the warmest wishes for a happy completion of the journey I left the Lloyd ship „Elektra“ not without adding greetings for home to her cargo.

In Victoria Park which we visited next and which is maintained by the municipality, Bombay has a zoological-biological garden — a tropical Schönbrunn — that merits the fullest praise even it can not match Peradenia garden on Ceylon. Tigers, bears, panthers, gazelles and antelopes, ostriches and monkeys were mourning their loss of liberty in small iron cages that were grouped between tastefully arranged bushes. Special consideration is given, according to English taste, to the grass which due to intensive sprinkling presents itself in a lush green, like a velvet carpet.

Having plundered Tellery’s treasures again we undertook a shopping trip through the most bustling streets of the native district.

The houses which are inhabited up to the roof, even overfilled what has a very detrimental effect on cleanliness. On the ground floor one finds always merchant shops and bazaars: here all kinds of goods are sold, many European ones among them, always surrounded by a shouting crowd. It is a pleasure to see many of our national goods in these shops, namely paper, perishable goods, hardware, glassware, woolen blankets and hats, the latter all from Strakonitz in Bohemia. A bustling trade is happening also with Austrian cologne which the Hindus drink as a replacement of the forbidden wine – a fact that speaks to the excellent quality of the local stomachs as well as to that of the product.

Some of the old houses with about two hundred year old wooden decorations, small gables, bays and pillars made out of indestructible black wood as well as small mosques and Hindu temples interrupt picturesquely the long rows of houses. Especially Kalbadewi temple with its color and statues of monkeys and fakirs attracts the eye.

The noisy crowd in the street is composed of the peoples of Asia, Africa, Europe and Oceania, a moving tower of Babel. Colorful images are moving past the eyes of the visitor. The largest contingent are naturally the Hindus. Among them move busily Parsis and Muslims, silent Arabs in black burnooses ride by coming from the horse market. Sometimes one can see an Afghan and begging Tibetan monks.

Remarkable is the courtesy of all natives towards the Europeans to which they always approach in friendliness. Out of the mass stand out the fakirs that is all kinds of religious beggars without distinction, although the Indians use this word only for Muslim beggars while they use a different word for Hindu caste ones, namely Goswami (Gosain), Jogi for the adherents of Shiva, Bairagi for those of Vishnu. These fakirs who abstain from the world and all its pleasures demonstrate their abstention outwardly by covering their body with yellow or gray clay and paint their front with sandalwood and vermilion powder. These ascetics and penitents move in this hideous attire, a consequence of a fanatical belief, from house to house. All too often the supposed abstention of the fakir is but a cover for a carefree life without toil. The Hindus give the fakirs always a helpful hand and offer them unlimited hospitality, sharing everything with the beggars – often even the wife. Under the mask of a fakir one even finds hard criminals who thus evade the watchful police or are safe from them as, due to the fanaticism of the Hindu, a native policeman can hardly dare to lay hands on a fakir. Native police have blue uniforms with light yellow lapels and caps and are said to perform with distinction.

All kinds of vehicles are moving in the roads from native small wagons drawn by two zebu oxen and whose sides are most often painted to the elegant European Landau carriages.

The native drivers treat the fast zebu oxen incredibly harshly: To get them to move fast, they wind their tails in circles. This barbaric practice may even break the tail bone. The fate of a local horse team seems to be comparably fine compared to the sorry zebus.

After lunch in Government House where I met the promising son of my host, temptation was approaching in the form of one of the largest jewelry dealers of Bombay, Harichands. prime supplier to all Rajahs. Treasures valued in millions were laid out in front of us: diamonds as large as a dove egg. rubies, emeralds, sapphires and pearls, partly loose partly as necklaces, rings and diadems. The sparkling, glimmering, glittering, the shine, flame and flare of fire splitting in all colors created an irresistible attraction that overwhelmed all senses. I have not seen something of equal quality in Europe and believe no crown jewels can match the treasures of Harichands. The man is literally rich in stones and asked for prices so high that we were unable to come to an agreement, thus I resisted temptation, largely out of necessity and not out of desire.

At 5 o’clock in the afternoon, a garden party in Parel — a summer retreat of the governor about 4 km out of Bombay — was on the program. There on the road one could see all the inhabitants who welcomed us warmly. On the green meadow in the midst of the park stands a dais covered in red cloth. On the dais sat the high society of Bombay: Officers, dignitaries, eminent Parsis, Hindus and Muslims.

In front of the dais was laid out a large square, some kind of riding school in which the life guard of the governor rode a quadrille on their Australian service horses. The members of the life guard is composed solely of Sikhs, descendants of those fanatical warriors whose lands in Lahore and all of Penjab had been made part of British India after a tough fight in 1849. The Sikhs are beautiful, tall people in fashionable uniforms, long red tunics with a row of brass buttons and steel chain epaulettes with white trousers, top boots and a large red turban on the head, wrapped in a colorful cloth. The saddles, bridles and horseshoes are European and in excellent condition. The horses look well even though many among them are rather old. The well prepared quadrille was performed with high precision: especially well executed were moulinets, deployment and various difficult winding tours with turns. At the end the riders as well as the arrangeur Captain Gordon were applauded by all.

During a break the governor introduced me to a number of ladies as well as eminent Muslims and some local Rajas sparkling with diamonds.

The second part of the equestrian production consisted of a tent pegging, a lance game in which four pegs are pushed into the ground which have to be picked up with a lance by the riders approaching at full speed. Again, they demonstrated their skill and aptitude in horsemanship.

At the end of the party, the governor showed me the park of the palace of Parel. The building is not beautiful, a former Portuguese monastery. The park has a large immured pond at whose rim we appreciated the glorious sunset.

The evening was completed by a large gala dinner and a musical soirée in Government House. Some ladies made an attempt to sing multiple love songs after which a violin player performed an undefined piece. Finally a conjurer offered some tricks, some of which might have attracted the most vivid hilarity of our amiable house wife.

Links

- - - - Location: Bombay, India
      - ANNO – on 19.01.1893 in Austria’s newspapers. The Neue Freie Presse informs about the struggle among Italian, Croatian and German speakers in Istria. With German being the official language for government matters, the other two at least have a common enemy. Trieste is also battling with the snow.
      - The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater is playing a comedy „Gönnerschaften“, while the k.u.k Hof-Operntheater presents the comic opera „Gute Nacht, Herr Pantalon“, followed by a ballet „Die Sireneninsel“.

Bombay, 18 January 1893

Hinterlasse eine Antwort

At 6 o’clock came the wake-up call. The morning was fresh and nice. The inhabitants of the villa district Malabar Hill through which we were driving seemed to be still in deep sleep as everything was quiet in the villas and gardens. The destination of our drive was the cemetery of the Parsi, the famous “Towers of Silence”. One of the most respected Parsi, Sir Jamsedji Jijibhai Bart., as well as Mr. Nüsservanji Behramji, received us at the foot of the hill and guided us over long stone stairs to a blooming garden that did not disclose the presence of a cemetery nearby. Close to the entrance gate sits a dog that has two supplementary eyes in color above the natural ones. The dog’s comportment according to the Parsi beliefs depends whether the dead enters the other world under good or bad auspices. If the dog looks at the dead person, this is regarded as a good sign while the opposite is seen as ill fortune. Just at the entrance to the garden stands a temple in which the whole fire is burning which, they say, the Parsi have brought from their ancestral homes and which has been kept alive ever since.

Tower of Silence, p. 102

Continuing on the garden, one meets five flashy white towers round as a circle. The tallest is 7.5 m high and has a circumference of 90 m. On its rim sit a legion of vultures and ravens. Up a few steps lies the entrance by a small iron door. One is allowed to approach the temple only up to 30 m but a model in the garden offers information about the interior of the burial place. Within the towers constructed with much effort – the largest is said to have cost over 360.000 fl in Austrian currency – is a cone-shaped platform terminating in a duct separated into ring-formed divisions. The outer division is intended for men, the middle one for women and the interior one, closest to the duct, for children. Four guardians, the only people allowed to enter the temple, undress the dead and lay them out in the proper division. Immediately hungry vultures set upon their prey and within an hour the body has been consumed except fort he bones. The sun dries the skeleton which is then lowered down the duct and poured over with water and chalk. The duct leads to four radial canals equipped with coals and sand filters ending in large pits where the last remains of the skeletons are left to their fate.

“Anyone belonging to Ahab who dies in the city the dogs shall eat, and anyone of his who dies in the open country the birds of the heavens shall eat.” (1 Kings 21:24). What the prophet Elias said to the king who had laden himself with a large guilt through his wife Jezebel, as a punishment has here become a horrible reality, a terrible truth. The birds of the sky eat the dead, devour the just and the unjust, nobles and inferiors. “Erectos ad sidera vultus“ all those who lived are now in death carrion for the birds.

From this place of human abasement bereft of all piety, where the winged gravediggers croak a dark “Lasciate ogni speranza”, thoughts are fleeing to the churchyard in the native mountains. Here, the precious dead lie in the earth that covers them protectively in order to fulfil the word: “for dust you are and to dust you will return.” Over the graves are set crosses, simple wooden crosses but built and erected with care, with the love the living have received with a smile and now with tears speaks to the dead: “Rest in peace.” Thus in thoughts, we departed from these eloquent Towers of Silence.

The next visit was to the animal hospital Pindschrapol which was founded by rich Hindus. A complete aberration of religious sentiment! Innumerable animals without owners, sick, covered in hideous eczema, with wounds of all kinds are spending their time until death – more merciful than those men in their aberration of the prohibition of spilling blood out of a feeling of pity – takes them away. In a courtyard stood, like biblical sisters announcing a famine, about four hundred cows. In the next courtyard, horses, real nags, in a third courtyard behind bars, dogs, monkeys, sheep, parrots, chicken, doves, myriads of flies and gadflies buzzing in a choir of pain and plague.

A more pleasant view was the large Crawford Market halls. They are said to cover with courtyards and gardens an area of 60 hectares and are built in the European manner out of stone, iron and glass. They are divided by a central hall with a 43 m high bell tower into two wings and a row of individual market places. The right wing of the market halls is for flowers and fruits, the left one for vegetables and spices. There our attention was caught by majestic roses, Chrysanthemum, Jasminum, a variety of exquisite bananas, trees with apple-like fruits, and mangoes. Also the strangely colored and formed pumpkins and cucumbers, Curcuma roots, Cardamom as well as spice mixtures well known to the European gourmets as curry powder. Also samples of the local smoke and chewing tobacco etc. In special halls are offered fish, cow and sheep meat as well as chicken. The large fish market displays hundreds of sea fruit, from the small Bombay ducks (Bombil) to vast monsters which the local palates will still find tasty. Living animals are sold here too. We took this opportunity to increase the ship menagerie with mynas, parrots and a green leaf bird but we could not come to terms easily with the local merchants.

While the scented, rich market hall full of vegetables of all kind with its diverse activities of supply and demand presented a picture of life, so the next encounter we witnessed, a Hindu burning, was a dark counterpart for us. Seeing the destruction of a body bereft of all sensual matters, the dissolution of matter in a handful of ash.

Mr. Tribhowandas Mangaldas Nathubhai, President of the “Bombay Hindu Burning and Burial Ground Committee” and a number of its members received us when we entered the burial place. The location and even more the behavior of the mourners at the ceremony does not show any form of piety. In an oblong courtyard on whose end stand banks and chairs are moored four iron poles a meter high in a distance of every ten meters. In between, the wood for the burning of the body is stacked. Out of the rest of one of the burnt pyres, two Hindus were collecting ash and burnt bones with complete indifference to dispose those scarce remains of a human body in a vase decorated with flowers that is then thrown into the sea.

I just wanted to go when I heard singing and cymbals. A funeral procession was entering the courtyard. In front marched singers and musicians, then on two bamboo sticks, only covered with some bands, the body, borne by four men. Relatives made up the rear of the procession and showed no exterior sign of emotion or compassion, not even as lucky heirs – only indifference, terrible indifference. The music which was insulting to the ears starts even during the final hours of the dying as it is intended to assist the magic to drive away bad demons of sickness. What failed to work against these might nearly have driven us away. But we were asked to take a seat on the banks and could now observe closely the act of burning the body. The body of a very tiny young woman was covered completely in red cloth, sprinkled with a red powder and decorated with flowers. The poor woman must have died only hours ago as the body had not become stiff.

It is Hindu custom to burn the body only shortly after they had expired, a practice which makes the job of the district coroner harder to note deaths, especially in the case of high numbers during cholera epidemics when it even becomes impossible. Often Hindus only inform the authorities of a death after the burning of the body has taken place. A cholera epidemic is often a good opportunity for Hindus to poison an obnoxious person with arsenic ,which triggers symptoms similar to those of cholera, or opium, burn them quickly and announce it as a cholera death. During earlier times when the authorities were not used to examine with vigor, the killing of girls with opium was a common practice which resulted in a huge scarcity of women in some parts of India so that the remaining few resorted to polyandry.

The body of the young Hindu woman was laid on the earth, water was poured over it and carried three times around the prepared pyre by the husband and a relative, then the mourners laid down wheat and sugar on the body and set it down on the pyre with the head towards the east where she was covered with six large logs. With a fire carried along from their own hearth in an urn the husband ignited sandalwood, walked three times around the pyre carrying the burning wood and touched each time the toes of the body which lay exposed from the shroud and finally set the kindling and the bundles of straw at the head of the dead on fire, igniting the pyre. In that moment, the husband cried out with hurt emotion, perhaps more for us than for his own feelings until his apparently less emotional relatives took him away. The pyre was burning, crackling, smoking. Eagerly the fire consumed the victim as if it wanted to take it away from the indifferent glances of the humans.

A second funeral procession approached. Again the dead was a young woman, apparently from a rich family of higher caste. Without a veil, the young deceased lay on the bier. The rosy tint on her cheeks indicated that she had only recently passed over to the empire of death.

Having seen enough of this cruel spectacle, I turned to go. At the exit of the burial place there is a house in which rich mourners of the highest caste wait for the ceremony to end and often call for dancers to shorten their waiting time – a revolting want of tact.

Quickly the dead must pass on into nothingness, making way for the coming generations: The Parsi devoured by the birds, the Hindu by the fire and thrown as ashes into the sea – in the animal hospital however the poor animals are kept artificially alive in their suffering, for them earth offer space and humans compassion.

To fully make use of the morning we visited also the Natural History Society’s museum which offers under the direction of Mr. Phipson a vivid image of India’s fauna. Right at the entrance crocodile hides, giant buffalo skulls and some living Indian squirrel catch the eye. Numerous cabinets hold the most important specimen of birds as well as countless butterflies. In containers filled with alcohol swim hundreds of different snakes and scorpion species, spiders, beetles and walking leaves which are part of the locust family. Numerous abnormalities and rarities are special attractions. Antlers of capital Sambar deer, abnormal horns of gazelles and black bucks, various skins of bears, tigers, panthers, snow leopards and other already bagged Indian cat species. A Hindu boy’s foot recovered out of the stomach of a crocodile, giant snake hides (python), scorpion twins, a collection of living snakes, a green whip-snake and two cobras that constantly start off against the walls of their glass enclosure. Special recognition is due for the installation of the objects according to the needs of science but also out of love for nature which goes beyond dry annotation and classification and always strives to bring all objects closer to the viewer’s understanding through placing them in a systematic and tasteful context, and by alternating them with trophies, pictures and photographs comprehensible to the layman.

Mr. Phipson offered kindly to supply me with a number of spare birds for my collection, an offer I gladly accepted.

Vividly satisfied from the impressions of the exhibition I drove to Mr Tellery (S. J. Tellery & Co.), a compatriot in whose shop all industrial art products of India are represented. This place is a real temptation for the eager shopper. Everything manufactured in Bombay, Madras, Haidarabad, Maisur, Agra, Dehli, Benares, Calcutta, Afghanistan and Birma has been made accessible there. Statues of gods and idols in bronze, silver and marble; vases, plates, cups made out of copper or gilded bronze, carvings in ivory, inlaid sandalwood boxes, Kashmir blankets, Fulkaris from Penjab, cloth with designs with applied wax glitter from Peshawar, printed calico from Madras with illustrations out of the great Indian epics Rämäyana and Mahabharata, tulle for dancers woven in Dakka, rugs from Bijapur with the famous peacock and shikan pattern, weapons and signs, elephant spears and halberds, musical instruments, small tables and Qur’an stands – a complete chaos of the most enticing things. Soon I gave in to temptation – a whole wagon-load was brought back on board which made the responsible officer despair.

With loving care for our material health, consul general Stocking invited me and my entourage to lunch in the house of the Bombay Yacht Club, an enticing call we willingly followed. The yacht club is situated within the “Fort” in an airy house at the edge of the harbor on Apollo Bandar, within a garden and having a lovely view on the harbor and the islands on the opposite side. This made the lunch even spicier and the rest afterwards sweeter.

Refreshed we drove in the afternoon with a fast steam launch of the navy yard from Wellington Pier across the harbor to the 10 km distant island Elephanta, famous for its rock temple.

During the trip one can enjoy the view of Bombay , of the islands and thanks to the intense light the contours of the mountains on the mainland. Going on land at Elephanta causes some difficulties as one has to transfer first into smaller boats and has to balance over different smooth and slippery concrete blocks. A non-punishing walk under palm tree brings one, after climbing long stone stairs, to the temple of Elephanta. Lingering young Hindus make up the living background and offer for purchase nests of bayas to the travelers as well as matchboxes with various beetles and cherry stink bugs that shine gloriously metallic.

Elephanta island, also called Gharapuri, city of caves, is worth a visit alone for its rich vegetation that displays itself to the visitor’s eyes drunk in colors. This island is full of palm trees, lianas, tamarinds, banana trees, bushes and flowers enchantingly formed and colored, with rare butterflies, glimmering beetles, flashy birds flying around. Even though nature has richly given treasures of the fauna to this small gem of the archiple of Bombay, the main destination of this trip to this island is an ancient home in the midst of the island for those gods that create, maintain and destroy.

The island owes its name to the ancient colossus hewn into stone in a distant time. These statues now stand in Victoria garden next to the Bombay museum, weather-beaten into chunky masses so that one can barely recognize the famous masterwork – a giant elephant fighting with a powerful tiger. The large temple caves still exist in whose shadowed light are kept safe many holy artifacts of Indian gods all with Brahmin legends of their own. Guided by an English veteran soldier with a medal of honor who serves here as Cicerone, we went down into the temple caves. Like the elephant colossus, once the guardians of the temple entrance, the lobby has become a victim of the elements during the centuries too.

Only the temple itself, guarded by mother nature herself, still exists. It is divided into different parts. The first is dedicated to the god of earth Shiva (Mahadewa), creator and destroyer at the same time. On the opposite side to the entrance to the main temple borne by a double row of pillars stands the decorated pillar of Trimurti (trinity) which shows Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. As symbols, this trinity is carrying a drinking vessel, a mythical lotus flower and a poisonous spectacled cobra. The walls of the temple are covered with sculptures showing scenes from the life of Shiva, his birth, the marriage to Kali (Parvati) and other sometimes frightening scenes. Three smaller square domed buildings contain each a lingam, a symbol of nature created. On the left side of the main temple lies the temple of the elephant god and god of erudition, Ganesha, whose sanctuary is decorated with images of his many wives.

All pillars are arranged symmetrically and the pictures pay much respect to the anatomical relations and are in part artfully done so that the completion of these works and even more the construction of the enormous temple halls make us marvel. The rooms, covering an area of 1564 m² constructed during a time without modern technology, machines or explosives, had to be excavated out of the hard granite rock only with hammer and chisel. A few hundred years ago these holy halls were inhabited by Brahmins, their followers and the dedicated temple singers and dancers. Without interruption, multitudes of believers, namely women seeking fertility, came and went. The Portuguese in their holy fervor chased the “tax collectors and scribes” out of the temple during their occupation of East India. If one believes the stories, they even tried to destroy the temple with cannon shots, obviously overkilling it, and thus damaging the ancient art on this monument, in part even destroying it.

Today, pious Hindus still make a pilgrimage with their families from time to time to Elephanta temple on holy days, to that witness of a majestic past. Much more eagerly are these impressive remains of a glorious art work observed by the foreign traveler who will find knowledge and pleasure there.

The end of the day was devoted to the attendance of grand official festivities in Government House. The dinner was followed by a ball to which the high life of Bombay was invited. For me this assembly of the leaders of the “upper ten” was not only interesting from a social point of view but also as a choreography because the English custom of pleasure dancing is different from the one we use. Especially one imported dance called a barn-door dance, accompanied by monotone music, straddles the middle between a haltingly dance mazurka and a bear dance. A honorary quadrille that I performed with Lady Harris did not really work as the figures performed were unknown at home. Lady Harris did not really appreciate this, while Lord Harris found the funny aspect in this situation. As in our square only the wives of the highest dignitaries and the civil servants of the top salary class were invited, multiple centuries were present in a small space, so that I thought longingly about a quadrille I danced at home. For the rest, I abstained in view of the challenges of the coming days. After midnight, a supper was served during which I had to pull crackers with Lady Harris in the center of the hall to the amusement of all.

Links

- - Location: Bombay, India
  - ANNO – on 18.01.1893 in Austria’s newspapers. Back in civilization in Bombay, the readers of the Neue Freie Presse are informed about Franz Ferdinand’s activities of almost the same day.

Notice about Franz Ferdinand’s arrival in Bombay in Neue Freie Presse, 18 January 1893, p. 5

- - The k.u.k. Hof-Burgtheater is playing Schiller’s „Maria Stuart“, while the k.u.k Hof-Operntheater is repeating „Romeo und Julie“.

Franz Ferdinand's World Tour

Archduke Franz Ferdinand's notes from his voyage around the world 1893

Schlagwort-Archiv: India

Benares, 10 February 1893

Darjeeling to Benares, 9 February 1893

Darjeeling, 7 February 1893

Darjeeling, 6 February 1893

Tandur, 23 January 1893

Tandur, 22 January 1893

Tandur, 21 January 1893

From Bombay to Tandur, 20 January 1893

Bombay, 19 January 1893

Bombay, 18 January 1893