Part 17 (1/2)
”Goa is still a Portuguese possession, nearly three hundred miles down the coast; and a year before they captured it they took possession of this island, in 1509. They held it till 1661, when it was ceded to England as a part of the dowry of the Infanta Catharine, who became queen of Charles II.
That is all I need say at present.”
The next morning after breakfast the carriages bespoken were at the door.
The party seated themselves in the vehicles, which were English, and quite commodious, according to their own fancies; and it need only be said that the commander was in the one with Mrs. Belgrave, and Louis with Miss Blanche. The viscount directed the driver of his carriage to pa.s.s through Cruikshank Road to the Pa.r.s.ees' Bazaar, which is just north of the Fort.
Most of the Pa.r.s.ees and Bhorahs who do business here reside in the same section; and there were many fine houses there, though they are abundantly able to live at Breach Candy and Malabar Hill, the abode of the _elite_. The vehicles stopped at an attractive point, and the party alighted. They went into several shops, and were treated with the utmost politeness and attention.
In one of them they were invited into a small rear saloon, magnificently furnished, where they were presented by Lord Tremlyn to a Pa.r.s.ee gentleman.
He was dignity and grace united. He was dressed in white throughout, except his cap, or turban, which was of darker material. He wore trousers, with white socks and slippers. His s.h.i.+rt appeared to be outside of his trousers, like the Russians, with a sort of vest over it. He wore a long coat, shaped like a dressing-gown, reaching nearly to the floor.
He was kind enough to call in his wife and little daughter. Both of them had pleasing faces. The lady wore a rich dress and a magnificent shawl, with a head-dress of gold and diamonds. The little girl had on bagging trousers like the Turkish women, and a heavily embroidered tunic, and both of them wore Indian slippers, with the toes turned up.
The ladies of the party were presented to the lady. She spoke English correctly and fluently, and the interview between them was exceedingly interesting to both sides. The Americans did not meddle with forbidden topics, as they had been cautioned not to do, such as their religion and burial rites; but they could not help thinking of this elegant lady's comely form being torn to pieces by the crows and vultures in the Tower of Silence with absolute horror.
From the Bazaar the carriages proceeded through the Fort, and the public buildings were pointed out to them. At the Cotton-Green they got out; for the place was now alive with Pa.r.s.ees and other merchants, with plenty of coolies, some of whom were moving bales, and others sorting cotton. From this locality they rode through Colaba, and saw some native dwellings, as well as some fine European residences, with beautiful gardens around them.
They alighted near the most southern point, and inspected a ”bungalow,”
which they were politely invited to enter. It was fitted up with a view to comfort rather than elegance, and the interior appeared as though it might be delightfully cool in the heat of summer.
”What do you call that house?” asked Mrs. Belgrave, as they returned to the road, which they call them all over the city, and not streets.
”A bungalow,” replied Sir Modava.
”Why do you call it so?”
”That reminds me of the German,” interposed Captain Ringgold, laughing heartily. ”'Do you know vot vas der reason vy ve calls our boy Hans?'”
”Well, what was the reason, Captain?” inquired the lady seriously.
”'Der reason vy ve calls our boy Hans is, dot is his name.'”
”Well, that is precisely why we call that house a bungalow,” added Sir Modava. ”It is the house usually occupied by Europeans here. They are one story high, with a broad veranda, like the one we have just visited. Almost always they have a pyramidal roof, generally thatched, but rarely slated or tiled. When the body is of brick or stone, they call them _pucka_ houses. Doubtless you wished to know the origin of the word, Mrs.
Belgrave.”
”That was just what I wished to know.”
”They were probably first called Bengalese houses, and the present name was corrupted out of the adjective.”
The party collected together on the seash.o.r.e, for the viscount appeared to have something to say. The captain of the Guardian-Mother called the attention of the company to the shape of the small bay before them, which looked exactly like a lobster's big claw.
”The point where we are is Cape Colaba, and the small point is Cape Malabar,” said Lord Tremlyn. ”I think we have seen all our time permits, and now we will drive back through the town and the Esplanade. Perhaps you have not yet heard of the Jains. They are a religious sect, and are more influential and intelligent than most of the Hindus. More than any other sect they hold the lower animals in the highest regard, amounting to a strange sort of tenderness.
”They believe that man should not injure any animal; and more than this, that human beings are bound to protect the lives and minister to the ills of all creatures, even those the most despised. When, therefore, the pious Jain comes upon a wounded creature of the lower order, he stops to attend to its needs, and even takes it into his house to be healed. To forward this charity, the wealthy of this sect have contributed money for the foundation and endowment of hospitals for the care of sick and wounded animals, and even of those permanently disabled.”
”What a beautiful idea, if it is heathen!” exclaimed Mrs. Belgrave.
”We will now drive to one of these hospitals. We have to pa.s.s through the Esplanade again to reach the Black Town, as it is called, where most of the natives reside; but we will go by a different road.”