Allahabad means the dwelling of God, and the Hindoos regard it as one of the most sacred places of India. It is a city of one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, and has a strong fortress with an English garrison. It is the seat of the government of the north-western provinces, and is situated on a point of land between the rivers Ganges and Jumna, on the great Indian railroad, about five hundred and sixty-five miles from Calcutta, and about the same distance from the Bay of Persia.

In a tropical climate where rain seldom falls during nine months of the year, it is quite natural that the people regard streams and rivers as their greatest benefactors, and by means of the vivid imagination of the South this sentiment has occasionally been developed into religious worship and idolatry. In this manner the great Ganges, which flows nearly through the entire length of India, has, since time immemorial, been regarded as sacred, as have also all places where three rivers meet. At Allahabad the Jumna meets the sacred Ganges, thus affording two of the necessary conditions to make the place sacred, and it was easy for the fertile imagination of the Brahmins to create the third, which is said to consist in a spiritual current from above, pouring down continually at the point where the Jumna and the Ganges meet and mingle. It is claimed that this invisible river is very abundant, especially in the month of Magh, from the middle of January to the middle of February, but the most favorable period in this respect is under the astronomical cycle Yuga, which occurs every twelfth year in the month of Magh, and is called “Kumbh.” This occurred in 1882, which was therefore a very important year for the Hindoos.

To bathe in the Ganges always means a spiritual purification, and to bathe there where the three rivers meet at Allahabad in the month of Magh is a very sacred rite. Every good Hindoo endeavors, if possible, to bathe at this place at least once during his lifetime; but to bathe there during the Kumbh Mela, or the twelfth year’s cycle, is the most sacred act a Hindoo can perform, and such a bath is said to atone for the greatest sins both of the bather and his nearest relatives, be they living or dead. Out of the immense population of India, one hundred and ninety millions profess the above faith. Being a very religious people in their way, and testifying to their faith by their works, it is no great wonder that Allahabad in the course of four weeks was visited by nearly two million pilgrims, who came there only for the purpose of bathing in the sacred river. Partly from curiosity and partly in order to obtain reliable information, I also made a short pilgrimage to this place.

I said that nearly two million people visited Allahabad during the Kumbh Mela, which I attended. They came from all parts of India, men and women, young and old, but especially the old, of all classes from the beggar to the prince, of all castes from the despised coolie to the haughty Brahmin. They came on crowded railroad trains, or on elephants, camels, horses, asses, in ox-carts and in boats on the rivers, but most of them on foot along roads and pathways, across fields and meadows, the living ones carrying the ashes of the cremated bodies of their dead relatives to throw them in the holy river. Many of them had traveled great distances and been on the journey for months. Old men who did not expect to return to their homes, but were in hopes of finding a grave in the sacred waters, and had said good-bye to everything which bound them to life; cripples and invalids expecting to be cured on the banks of the Ganges, congregated in large numbers at this sacred place. Fanatical penitents came crawling on hands and feet; holy Fakirs had measured the way by the length of their own bodies for scores of miles. The penitent Fakir who travels in this manner lies down on the ground with his head toward the place of destination, makes a mark in the ground in front of his head, and crawls forward the length of his body and lies down again with the feet where he had his head before; a new mark, another movement ahead, etc., and so he keeps on, one length of his body at a time, until he reaches the holy river. During this journey the Fakir is surrounded and followed by a large concourse of people who furnish him with food and drink, and regard him as a saint. There are instances of men having traveled over five hundred miles in this manner. Every day and hour the crowd was increased by new arrivals, until the river banks, the fields and roads swarmed with countless masses,—a most wonderful gathering. Thousands of Brahmins offered their services to guide and bless the pilgrims, most always for a valuable consideration; thousands of peddlers sold small idols, flower wreaths, rosaries, and other sacred objects at high prices; others peddled rice, fruit, thin bread and other provisions, and thousands of barbers cut the hair and shaved the temples of the pilgrims. There, in the shade of some mango trees a Hindoo prince had gone into camp with his elephants, horses, soldiers and servants, the retinue consisting of about two hundred people; and yonder in the shadeless valley is a camp of a thousand or more Fakirs huddled together. Many are entirely naked, others are protected by a few yards of dirty cotton cloth, most of them sprinkled with ashes or dry clay, their faces streaked in gray, red or yellow colors, and the hair done up in the shape of a chignon and held together with wet clay; but although presenting a picture of dire want in their persons they have in the camp a large herd of costly elephants richly adorned with covers of satin and velvet embroidered in gold, silver, precious stones and gems, proving that their begging has not been in vain.

On the river bank is the headquarters of the pilgrims from one of the Southern provinces, and over yonder that of those from the North or East. Everywhere is heard the noise of trading and bargaining, of greeting and ecstacy, of laughter and astonishment, and of the moaning and cries of the sick and suffering—indeed a regular pandemonium.

The February sun already shone scorchingly hot upon the low, shadeless valley, the thermometer rising to 90°. In the night, however, it was unusually cold for that country, and most of the pilgrims being poor and their clothing and food wretched, dangerous diseases began to break out among the weak and exhausted. The terrible cholera claimed numerous victims every day, many died from weakness and negligence, others again perished through accidents on land and water, for nobody seemed to be very particular about human life, since death just there was considered so very desirable. Along the shores of the river flickered hundreds of fires, at which the remains of the dead are burned to ashes and scattered into the river by the officiating Brahmins, to the infinite edification of the relatives of the dead.

The Hindoos are a very peaceful and loyal people, and willingly submit to order and discipline. Thus designated groups were conducted to the water at certain times and places, which was highly necessary, as otherwise the strong would have trampled down and crushed the weak.

The first ceremony consists in shaving the head, or at least the front part of it; the hair which is cut off ought to be offered to the Ganges, but the barber smuggles most of it out of the way, to be sold in more civilized countries. From the barber the pilgrim is turned over to the care of the Brahmin, who leads him down into the river, under the following ceremonies: The Brahmin repeats a Sanscrit formula which is called “Sankalpa,” and which states that “the pilgrim N. N. on the day X. of the month Y., and in the year Z., takes his bath in the sacred water for the purpose and intention of cleansing himself from all sins and frailties,” after which the pilgrim immerses himself several times under the water and rinses his mouth with a handful of it, after a few minutes returning to the shore where he is at once surrounded by peddlers who offer him flowers, milk and lean cows or goats for sale at an exorbitant price. He always buys the flowers and the milk and offers them to the river, and, if he has sufficient money, he buys a cow or a goat and offers it to the Brahmin; but if his means are too limited the latter must be content with the few coins the pilgrim can spare. Most of them, however, have brought a handsome offering to the Brahmin, because they regard the duty toward him just as important as the duty toward the river god.

Then follows the “Shiadda” ceremony, consisting of an offering of cake, sugar, plums and dainties to the ghosts of their deceased relatives; next a banquet is spread before the Brahmins, the sacred places of the vicinity are visited, offerings are made at most of these, and a present called “vidagi” is made to the Brahmin who has attended to the spiritual wants of the giver.

And now the object of the long and arduous journey is accomplished, the pilgrimage, “tisthayatra,” is successfully performed, and the cleansed sinner stands ready to begin a new record of sin. He has been plundered of his last penny, and, if he succeeds in reaching his distant home, his neighbors and friends will look up to him as an exceptionally happy being, and his own soul is filled with the hope of temporal and eternal bliss.

Those who have reaped the pecuniary benefits of the pilgrimage are the Brahmins and Fakirs, the former through offerings and the latter through begging. They have filled their coffers and collected large herds of cattle, and now they can lead a gay and happy life until the next Mela, when they will again try to fan the dying embers of enthusiasm into a flame by sending emissaries all over India for the purpose of convincing the credulous populace that it is greatly to be feared that the Ganges will soon lose its power of salvation, and that therefore as many as possible ought to come next time, which may be the last chance.