A Journey to Katmandu (the Capital of Napaul), with the Camp of Jung Bahadoor: Including a Sketch of the Nepaulese Ambassador at HomeOliphant, Laurence
History
A Journey to Katmandu (the Capital of Napaul), with the Camp of Jung Bahadoor: Including a Sketch of the Nepaulese Ambassador at Home
Oliphant, Laurence
Nepal -- Description and travel
The ostensible object of the mission had reference, as far as I could
learn, to a portion of the Terai (a district lying upon the northern
frontier of British India) which formerly belonged to Nepaul, and which
was annexed by the Indian Government after the war of 1815-16; but it is
probable that other motives than any so purely patriotic actuated the
Prime Minister. His observant and inquiring mind had long regarded the
British power in India with wonder and admiration--sentiments almost
unknown amongst the apathetic Orientals, who, for the most part, have
become too much accustomed to the English to look upon them with the same
feelings as are entertained towards them by the hardy and almost savage
race inhabiting the wild valleys of the Himalayas.
But besides the wish to gratify his curiosity, there existed yet another
incentive which induced him to undertake this expedition. The precarious
nature of his high position in Nepaul urged on him the good policy, if
not the necessity, of a visit to England, for he doubtless felt, and with
good reason, that the Native Durbar would be inclined to respect a man
who had been honoured with an interview with the Queen of so mighty a
nation, and had had opportunities of securing the support of her
government, should he ever be driven to seek its aid.
* * * * *
The _Atalanta_, one of the oldest steam frigates in the Indian navy, had
been placed at the disposal of His Excellency, and, upon the evening of
the 9th of December 1850, was lying in the Colombo Roads, getting up her
steam as speedily as possible, while I was uneasily perambulating the
wooden jetty, which is all the little harbour can boast in the shape of a
pier, endeavouring to induce some apathetic boatmen to row me over the
bar, a pull of three miles, against a stiff breeze. It was bright
moonlight, and the fire from the funnel of the old ship seemed rushing
out more fast and furious in proportion as the boatmen became more drowsy
and immovable; finally they protested that it was an unheard-of
proceeding for anybody to wish to go on board ship on such a night at
such an hour, and insinuated that all verbal or pecuniary persuasions
would be alike unavailing. It is very evident that Colombo boatmen are a
thriving community; still they seem a timid race, for upon my having
recourse to threats containing fearful allusions, which there was not the
remotest possibility of my being able to carry into execution, a
wonderful revolution was effected in the feelings of the sleepers around
me; they forthwith began to unwind themselves from the linen wrappers in
which natives always swathe themselves at night like so many hydropathic
patients, and, converting their recent sheets into turbans and
waistcloths, they got with many grumblings into a tub-like boat, just as
the smoke from the steamer was becoming ominously black. Their eyes once
open, the men went to work in good earnest, and an hour afterwards I had
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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