Part 5

As to Measures and Weights, in Upper and Western India we employ the lineal, square, or cubic foot as the unit for our estimates and calculations; in Madras, they use the cubic yard. Our lineal units are generally understood, except, perhaps, the mile; natives generally give distances in _kosses_, which vary from 1 to 2½ miles. The acre is employed in Government papers, but is not known to the people, who measure land by the _beegah_, which varies greatly in different districts. The weights commonly used are the _maund_, _seer_, and _chittack_, which are practically held to be 80 lbs. avoirdupois, 2 lbs., and 2 oz. respectively.

There is as great variety in India as in other countries in all local weights and measures, and the people are as obstinate and suspicious there as in England, and elsewhere, about any changes being made,—a fact too often forgotten by the decimal and metrical doctrinaires in their zeal to ensure a theoretically perfect system of standards.

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Let me now say something of the mode of executing work generally, before going on to the subject of special engineering constructions. The first thing that strikes the engineer from England is the primitive simplicity of the working appliances, and the total absence of the elaborate and costly plant judged necessary for executing great works in Europe. Steam engines, steam cranes, steam pumps, steam pile-drivers, tramways, even such things as hand-pumps, horses, carts, and wheelbarrows are rarely used. This has arisen from the comparative cheapness of manual labour, from the difficulty of procuring skilled subordinates, and from the dearness of fuel. Now that the first two causes are greatly modified, and the extensive works lately undertaken have necessitated recourse to European appliances, the engineer going out to India should devote special attention to this subject, for he will often have to teach his subordinates the use of such things as I have mentioned. Great works have, however, been constructed in India without them, and will still be so for some time to come. Earthwork, for instance, is constructed almost entirely with wicker baskets as the sole means of carriage; yet few countries have had so many massive embankments thrown up. Petty contracts are readily taken for this kind of work, in which case the whole family of the workman, down to the child of three years old, will help to swell the mass to be raised. A system of payment at the rate of a _cowrie_ paid on the spot for every basket of earth carried is very popular, several hundred cowries going to a rupee. For such banks, the earth is almost always taken from side cuttings to save the expense of a long lead, as the land is comparatively of little value. The earth is dug with a _phowrah_, the common native tool, which is at once a spade and a hoe, and an excellent tool it is.

For getting water out of foundations, and for lifting water generally either for irrigation or otherwise, several ingenious contrivances are employed. For a lift not exceeding three or four feet, and where the hole or excavation is not too small, a swing-basket covered with leaves or matting is used as a bale, being swung by two men. I have often seen water lifted in this way from 12 to 16 feet, in three or four stages, by as many pairs of men, the baskets being swung together in exact time, and the quantity lifted one stage being about 1800 gallons per hour.

For higher lifts, there are three machines commonly employed—the _paecottah_, or lever bucket, used in Bengal (the counterpoise on the shorter arm of the lever being a heavy stone or a lump of clay); the _churus_, or _chursah_, common in the North-Western Provinces, a large leathern bag drawn up by bullocks; and the Persian wheel, or endless chain of buckets, also worked by bullocks, and everywhere employed in the Punjab, which has been in use in the East for at least 2000 years, and is one of the most effective and ingenious water-raising engines yet invented.

The native carts or hackeries are drawn by bullocks or buffaloes, and are exceedingly primitive vehicles. They have no springs—often no iron tires to the wheels—and, except the axle-pins, have generally no iron at all in them. But the advantage is that they can go over any rutted track that does duty for a road, and that if they do get broken, the nearest carpenter can repair them. That, of course, is the real difficulty in introducing English improvements into India, that if your fine carts or pumps get broken, who is to repair them?[A]

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I now come to a very interesting subject to the Indian engineer, which involves several specialities, and applies more or less to all the constructions we shall consider afterwards in detail—I mean the subject of _Foundations_. Of course the general principles of constructing foundations are the same everywhere, that is, you must secure, if possible, a firm and unyielding substratum. If you cannot find this naturally supplied, you must use artificial contrivances, either by proper distribution of your weight to be supported, or by preventing any lateral spreading, or undermining from the action of water. For this purpose in England we have recourse to piling, or concrete, or iron cylinders and screw-piles. How is it in India? Well, there, as a rule, piles won’t do; first, because timber is scarce and dear; second, and chiefly, because it is exposed to so many causes of decay that it would quickly rot. Iron cylinders and screw-piles have been a good deal used lately; but generally in India, both these and the timber piles are superseded by the employment of Cylinders of Brick masonry, varying in diameter inside from 3 to 12 feet, and sunk either to a firm stratum below, or to such a depth as to be safe from scour,—the weight being borne in this case by the friction against the sides. A sufficient number of wells are designed to carry the superincumbent weight, whether it be a house or the pier of a bridge, and the whole series being sunk to the required level, and as close together as possible, the tops of the wells are arched over, the arches are all connected together by slabs of stone or other arches, and on this artificial platform the superstructure is raised.

To sink a well, the _néemchuk_, or well-curb, a ring of wood from 9 to 18 inches thick, is laid on the ground, the masonry built upon it about 4 feet high, and left to dry. The sand inside is then scooped out, and the well descends gradually, when another 4 feet are built up; the sand is again scooped out; and so on, until the required depth is reached. So long as there is no water met with, and the soil is sand, the work is easy enough, the only care being to see that the excavation proceeds regularly and evenly; but when the water is reached, and as it deepens, the process is a slow one. A huge sort of hoe (called a _jham_) is used, which is worked from above into the soil, and then hoisted up with its load; a Persian wheel or a _churrus_ being also used to keep the water down as much as possible. Sometimes blocks of wood or kunkur are met with which impede the descent of the well, and then a diver must be employed,—a man who descends without any diving apparatus, and can stay under water an alarming length of time.

Since the construction of so many great railway bridges, in which these cylinders have been sunk to a depth of 50 feet, various improvements have been introduced. The wooden curb has been replaced by one of wrought iron, with a sharp-cutting edge, into which are bolted below several rods of inch iron running through the masonry, and connected at intervals by flat iron rings, so that the whole cylinder is well bound together. A Sand Pump has also been invented, worked by a steam-hoist, to take the place of the old native _jham_. This, and another machine for the same purpose, called Fouracre’s Well Excavator, you will find described in the ‘Professional Papers’ and the Roorkee ‘Treatise.’

Sometimes, instead of a series of separate wells, the whole mass of a pier has been built in a block, with hollows at intervals, and sunk together by several parties of well-sinkers. In this way the piers of the great Solani Aqueduct, at Roorkee, were constructed and sunk 20 feet; but this work requires very experienced men, and is subject to such risks that, as a rule, separate wells are preferred.

Such work as the above can only be carried on when the river is low, and the current very slack, and this may be a good place to speak of the general nature of such Indian Rivers. I refer chiefly to such streams as the Ganges, Jumna, Indus, and others, as there are few things of more vital interest to the Indian engineer.

They rise in the region of perpetual snow, generally from glaciers at a height of over 20,000 feet, and make their way to the plains (receiving numerous affluents on the road), as great torrents with numerous rapids, and quite unnavigable, except in particular places. On emerging into the plains, which they do very suddenly, the bed changes, first from boulders to shingle, and then to sand, and the stream cutting deep into this soft soil, becomes more and more charged with silt, especially as the lessening slope of the country checks the onward velocity. Thenceforward, the river is a sluggish stream, pursuing a tortuous course between low, flat banks, and full of shoals and quicksands, until near its mouth, where it parts into numerous channels, and forms a vast delta reaching to the sea. Owing to the vast quantity of silt brought down by these rivers, which elevates their beds and during the inundation season is freely deposited on both banks for some distance inland, it follows that these streams, in the lower portions of their course, often run on a ridge, and not at the lowest points of their valleys,—just like the Po and Mississippi, which are retained between artificial dykes.

These rivers are at their lowest in the cold season; and in December, January, and February, their navigation is attended with the greatest difficulties. From March to June, the increasing heat of the sun melts the snow in the higher ranges, and the rivers rise rapidly. In June, July, and August, the monsoon rains increase their volume to a prodigious extent. Their banks are often inundated far inland, and the yellow turbid waters carry down more silt than ever; the increased velocity of the current, acting on the light sandy soil of the sides and bed of the channel, cuts away the banks and scours out shoals in one place, and then at the next bend a temporary check will throw down enormous quantities of this silt, and the stream shoots off in a new direction altogether. I have seen the whole of the Indus concentrated in a not very deep channel 1000 feet across; six months later I have been in a boat on the same spot, and was unable to see either bank from mid-stream. In one year I have known it cut its way inland a full mile, measured perpendicular to the thread of the stream.

It is these violent changes in velocity and direction, and the soft and treacherous character of the soil, that make the question of foundations in water a peculiarly difficult one in India. The sudden shifting of a shoal may dam up the archway of a bridge, and the increased velocity in the narrowed waterway acting on such soil, often scours out a hole 30 feet deep in a single night. Almost every rainy season in India sees failures and disasters on this score, and the most carefully considered design may be a mass of ruins in twenty-four hours. The Bengal mode of dealing with these difficulties is to carry down every pier-cylinder, whether of masonry or iron, to such a depth as either to rest in the firm soil below, or to be absolutely beyond the reach of any possible scour, but to put no flooring or curtain walls by which the stream can possibly be checked and incited to tear up the bed. The Madras system is to be content with a much smaller depth of foundation, but to provide, by means of a flooring and apron walls, a compact dam of masonry solidly bound together, front and rear and from shore to shore, which shall be proof against any action of the stream. The subject is one which has excited much discussion, but is too long to enter upon here. You will find it treated of in the works already quoted.

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I have now described the most important specialities of Indian foundations, and have to ask you to follow me in the first section of what I may call special engineering constructions, _viz. Buildings_, or rather dwellings, such as houses, barracks, churches, and the like. The subject is, of course, a very extensive one, and I only propose here to draw attention to those buildings which the Indian engineer is generally called upon to construct. First, then, let us take Indian Barracks, that is, barracks for English soldiers in India, as they are not only the most important buildings that you will have to deal with, but there are many vexed questions concerning them which are still far from settled, and which apply equally to all dwellings erected for Europeans in an Indian climate.

In the earlier days of our Indian empire, the barracks constructed for the European soldiers were often built on ill-chosen sites; the rooms were low and a great deal too crowded, and drainage and conservancy scarcely thought of; the consequence was a frightful mortality, which often reached the high figure of 70 to 90 per thousand. As the important subject of sanitation received more and more attention in England, it was not likely it should be neglected in India, where a tropical climate aggravated the results of neglect of sanitary laws, and where every English soldier who died cost the Government a large sum of money to replace him.

At the same time that attention was thus roused, the conquest of the Punjab and the necessity of quartering a large number of troops in that province to defend the most exposed frontier of the empire, made the subject doubly important, while it gave a field on which to carry out the results of recent investigations. Large sums of money were accordingly spent on the barracks at Mean Meer, Sealkote, Nowshera, and other new stations. They were all single-storied buildings—each company of 100 men having a barrack to itself, consisting of six wards, each 48 by 24 feet, and 24 feet high, with double verandahs on both sides, besides rooms for the non-commissioned officers. The men were to sleep in the wards, and to dine in the inner verandahs. A reading-room was also supplied at the end of each barrack. Wash-houses and privies were arranged in separate buildings near the barracks.

These buildings were certainly a great improvement on anything hitherto erected, and were decidedly not open to the charge of being overcrowded. Unfortunately, however, the Punjab has a cold season as well as a hot, and in the winter months the men complained that it was almost impossible to keep themselves warm; while even in hot weather, the high winds and dust found their way through the numerous doors and windows, and the barracks were anything but comfortable residences.

Nor did they prove at all healthy, for cholera and intermittent fever played sad havoc among the troops in more than one season at Mean Meer. This was not, however, owing to any fault in the barracks, but to what was an error in the choice of site for the cantonment; and attention is drawn to it because the instance is instructive, and has more than once been repeated. Apparently under the idea that there was something in the very presence of vegetation which might engender malaria, a flat, bare, dreary-looking site was selected, totally devoid of all vegetation, and with water 40 to 50 feet below the surface; while, from the presence of a kunkur or stony stratum a few feet below the top, it has been found impossible to get a tree to grow to a respectable size. It may be taken as a rule that the presence of healthy vegetation shows a site favourable to human beings as well as to trees and crops, and that such sites as that of Mean Meer should be carefully avoided in future.

Several committees were subsequently appointed to consider the question of barracks, and finally an officer of experience, under the title of Inspector-General of Military Buildings, was appointed to collate the various information collected, and to prepare standard plans of barracks for the various stations at which the Government of India had determined, on strategic grounds, to maintain a permanent force of British soldiers. It should be remarked in reference to this point that erroneous impressions often prevail in the public mind. It is often asked, why are troops retained at stations which are notoriously unhealthy? Why are the British troops not all kept at the hill stations, where they enjoy a European climate all the year round? Now, the first use of having troops at all is unquestionably that they should be ready for action at the points where trouble is likely to arise; those points are the great cities where, in the East as in the West, the _mauvais sujets_ of the empire are generally found congregated; and all our principal cantonments have been located with this view. It is true that the railways have done much to abridge distance in India, as elsewhere. But not to mention how easily a railroad is disarranged in time of war or revolt, the railway system must be extended at least five-fold before it could help us much on this point, while to allow revolt to rage unchecked, for even twenty-four hours, in such cities as Patna, Benares, or Lucknow, until troops could be brought by rail from the nearest hill station, would be a frantic proceeding.

But the fact is that it is very questionable whether a continued residence in the hills would be beneficial to the health of all English soldiers, while there is no doubt that the hill stations are not at all popular with the men themselves. Private Tommy Atkins is insensible to the poetry of mountain scenery; he dislikes the incessant rain from June to September; he hates being unable to take a walk without having to go up or down hill; and he misses the excitement of a large native city. There is no doubt, however, that, as _occasional_ residences, the hill stations are most valuable, and the Government has shown its appreciation of this fact by the large expenditure now being incurred on the two new Himalayan stations of Chakrata and Raneekhet.

You will find plans of the most approved forms of barracks, as at present sanctioned, in Vol. II. of the Roorkee Civil Engineering Treatise. These buildings consist of a single main ward, with one verandah all round, and are to be double-storied as a rule; the upper story being used as a dormitory, the lower for day-rooms. Separate rooms are provided for the sergeants, and separate sets of quarters, of course, for the married men. In the plains, space is to be provided at the rate of 7½ running ft. (of wall), 90 superficial ft., and 1800 cubic ft., per man, the wards being 24 ft. high. These buildings are constructed of brick or stone, as the case may be; the roofs are iron girders with brick arches between for the verandahs, and iron trusses covered with a double layer of tiles for the main wards.

Several ranges of barracks on the Government standard plans have been erected at Allahabad, Saugor, Jullundur, Peshawur, and other stations; but it cannot be said that the results have been at all commensurate with the large cost incurred. The heat and glare are greatly complained of, and in more than one instance it is believed that a return to the old temporary thatched barracks was urged. Nor have the new barracks apparently proved more healthy than the old ones; cholera stuck so closely to them at Allahabad that for some months they were absolutely deserted, and it is understood that Peshawur is no better off. Of course, it is not meant to suggest that the new barracks engendered cholera, but merely that a site unhealthy in itself has not been made less so by the erection of large and expensive buildings.

In the station where I have been quartered for eight years, the barracks were little more than temporary sheds run up just after the Mutiny, and which have not been replaced by regular buildings because it is not thought necessary to retain troops there permanently. Yet in these crowded sheds, troops have been healthier than in any station in the country.

To understand the special difficulties attending the construction of Anglo-Indian dwellings, it is necessary to revert again to the characteristics of the climate of Northern India, in which by far the largest number of our troops are quartered. The seasons of Northern India (say from Benares up to Peshawur) are the cold, the hot, and the rainy season; or, more exactly, the cold, the dry-hot, and the moist-hot seasons. In November, December, January, and February, though the sun is always powerful, the temperature of the air is pleasant during the day, and not too hot for a long day’s cricketing or shooting on foot; the nights are really cold, and occasionally even frosty. A good deal of rain also falls in the Punjab generally about February, and fires are required in the house often all day long.

In March, the hot winds begin to blow; strong breezes from the west, often rising to gales, bring up clouds of dust, and the atmosphere has the temperature of a glass furnace; from 7 A.M. the wind blows often up to midnight, and the temperature of the outer air at night varies little from that of the day. I have often known it 100° at Lahore at _midnight_. This lasts till the middle of June, when thunderstorms usher in the south-west monsoon, or rainy season; rain falls in torrents, the air is saturated with moisture, and though the thermometer falls several degrees, the languid, moist heat is far more trying to the constitution than a higher temperature when the air is dry. The rains end in September; October is generally fine, the mornings and evenings are cool, and then follows the cold season already described.

Now to apply these facts to our subject.

As a mere question of comfort, it has been found that a building constructed with walls of mud or sun-dried brick, with a good verandah all round, and with a thick roof of thatch, is certainly the most comfortable. It is cooler in the summer, warmer in the winter, and a good thatched roof is perfectly water-tight. But such a roof is always exposed to danger from fire, and both roof and walls require perpetual repair in the rains; while those Indian pests, the white ants, besides snakes and other vermin, increase and multiply to an alarming extent in such a building. Stone is scarce and expensive, except in a few localities, so brick is the material usually employed for permanent buildings, and the thatched roofs are replaced by tiles or concrete. Such buildings, however, become insufferably hot during the day, and numerous doors and windows are provided to allow a sufficient volume of cool air to enter during the cooler hours of the night; they give rise to one of our chief difficulties, for, during the whole of the hot weather, these openings must be kept closed for ten or twelve hours at least, to exclude the heated external air, and if so closed, some special means of ventilation ought certainly to be provided.

It is not, however, easy to effect this, for the simple reason that the air inside the building is cooler, and therefore heavier, than that outside, and thus will not pass out easily by apertures above, which also generally admit quite as much dust as fresh air.