CHAPTER V.

Town of Calcutta-Tour of inspection in a Palkee-Palkee bearers-A comparison between them and the genus "Cabby" -Burning ghât-Native bazaar-Calcutta Post Office-The heavy, murmuring swell succeeding the great storm-Castaways saved from the wreck, and thrown up upon the high shore of human charity and sympathy-A few words about the Sepoys-Indian servants.

SUPPOSE We get into a palanquin, and in this very peculiar and Oriental conveyance enter the "City of Palaces," and form an opinion of its interior. Away we go, our two palanquins abreast -jog, jog, jog,-grunt, grunt, grunt, from the bearers, across the Chowringhee; jog, jog, jog -and in a very few minutes, as the clowns say at Christmas, "Here we are!" It is hardly necessary to go twenty yards to discover that the City of Palaces is likewise a City of Incongruities, and it would be rather a nice question to decide as to whether it looks most like Belgravia, with a few palaces hired for the occasion, and dropped down into the middle of an inferior Irish village, while some inquisitive mosques and minarets have strolled up to assist at the ceremony, or whether Constantinople has not wandered by mistake to Wapping, picking up the principal faubourgs of Paris, together with the London Docks, en route. Stately houses are jostled in the most discourteous manner by insignificant little hovels, which look as much out

of place as a pickpocket would in the House of Lords, but which, nevertheless, elbow their gigantic neighbours with a free-and-easy, self-possessed air charming to behold; and it would warm a Frenchman's heart to see the liberté, égalité, et fraternité existing among these vagabondish cabins, who appear to glory impudently in their democratic and republican propensities.

Owing to the nature of the climate and the baneful effects of the sun, goods are not here exposed in the shop-windows as in England, hence the streets bear more the appearance of rows of large private houses than immense "Emporiums of wealth and commerce," and this, though perhaps improving the town by giving it a more Westendish look, quite does away with that gay and variegated aspect, that play of colours, which so greatly adds to the attractiveness of French and English cities; and I think, on the whole, what with the indiscriminate mixture of splendour and indigence the absence of those flower-beds of merchandise which to us as a "nation of shopkeepers" should have a peculiar charm-the pre-Adamite nature of the oil-lamps wherewith a portion of the town is lighted, and the general obsolete, out-ofdate appearance of many objects which greet the eye in a drive through its streets, that Calcutta is painfully disappointing to the eager stranger, who, having surveyed from shipboard, with charmed gaze, its fair and promising outline, finds himself brought at last face to face with the less pleasing details. There is a sort of new-cloth-inan-old-garment look about it, and there are spots where the enamel and paint have been rubbed off

PURCHASES IN A PALANQUIN.

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or never applied-spots where the pruning-knife of progress and civilization is sadly wanted.

There is an old story told of an Irishman who was playing cards, and on counting the pool, cried out, "Here's a shilling short; who put it in ?" And on beholding Calcutta, and becoming alive to the fact of how much there is "short" in the way of modern improvements and refinement, one feels tempted to echo the remark of the son of Erin aforesaid, and cry with him, "Who put it in?" or, to drop the somewhat obscure metaphor of Hibernian phraseology, to whom are these shortcomings attributable to want of energy on our parts, or to the remnant of the old leaven of native barbarism, which clings with such unconquerable tenacity, more or less, to all our Indian institutions, and which in many cases we have scarcely troubled ourselves to shake off?

Faugh! how crowded, dirty, and noisy are the streets of the native portion of the town, as one drives on a tour of inspection through the bazaars, while one's palanquin is beset by a host of panting, shouting vendors of all descriptions of commodities, from the delicately carved curiosities of China, to inferior editions of English books, and bad imitations of English sauces and pickles; and it is no uncommon sight to have a box of French plums, or some other sweetmeat, offered for sale at one door of your palanquin, and a Walker's Pronouncing Dictionary at the other, and as all commercial transactions of this nature are carried on without stopping, or even slackening the rapid jog, jog, jog of your palkee, a great facility is afforded the buyer, by keeping the seller, who is running alongside, in

E

conversation until he is completely "blown," and then offering him half the price demanded; when, being at his last gasp, he generally closes the bargain, and you jog on exulting in your victory, though the odds are ten to one that even then you have paid more than double the proper value.

While I am on the subject of palanquins, I must devote a few words to the bearers of the same, and relate a little stratagem lately resorted to by them which is worthy of notice. Like a certain class of public servants at home, these bearers have been frequently brought to task for attempting to extort from unwary strangers a fare considerably above what they are entitled to, and for grumblingly indulging in Hindostanee figures of speech answering to the "Wha-a-at's this?this ain't my fare!-you call yourself a gemman indeed!" so much in vogue among our London charioteers, and which is invariably punished when brought under the notice of a magistrate by a fine. Now Messieurs Palkee-bearers (like all Hindoos), being avaricious by nature, had long winced under these forfeitures of rupees, and on considering the matter, and revolving in their minds a plan for avoiding these mulcts for the future, they were not long in discovering that it was (very naturally) owing to the badge, or number, which they are compelled to wear, that the justice-seeking victims of their extortions were able to identify them, for the palanquins being hired from certain proprietors by the month, and the bearers never changing their badge during that period, the process of identification was not a difficult one. What, then, must palkee-bearer do to enable him to victimize

PALKEE-BEARERS.

the "sahibs" with impunity?

51

Oh, the cunning

of man! He hires his palanquin by the day, changing his badge and number also diurnally, and thus defies discovery, as is apparent to the astonished eyes of "sahib," when he drags No. 172 into court for being extortionate the day before yesterday, and finds, alas! that he is by no means the real Simon Pure. The case is dismissed; "sahib" looks foolish; while ex-No. 172, temporarily transformed into 384, is probably jogging and grunting away across the Chowringhee, and complacently contemplating "doing" the fat old "fare" who now occupies his palanquin in exactly the same manner. It is to be hoped that long ere these pages are printed, counter cunning, to meet the exigencies of the case, and tending utterly to confuse and put to shame palkee-bearer, will have been employed; but I tell the story as I heard it a short time ago, as I think the hint may perchance be of service to our "cabbies." By the way, is it not lucky that these bearers, in addition to their cunning, are not endowed with the "chaff" and impudence which form the stockin-trade of every British cabman? When you reflect with a shudder on the altercations in which you have, doubtless, been often engaged with that rapacious class; with what a sarcastic smile "cabby" has regarded your tendered sixpence ; with what minuté interest he has examined it, as a curiosity with which he has hitherto been unacquainted; with what naïveté he has held it up to the light, as though to observe whether or not it was transparent; with what painful incredulity he has bitten it, as though to test the purity of