both in their public and private character, but
my experience has shown me that no class of
men deserve the epithet less.  Now that the
country is being opened up by railways in every
direction, and travelling has become no longer a
matter of danger and difficulty, all classes, official
and non-official, are compelled to be more
cautious concerning whom they invite to take up a
residence in their homes; for many cases have
occurred of late years, of hospitality having been
abused by adventurers, and unlucky hosts sorely
victimised.

When the steamer arrived that was to convey
us to Cachar, we were by no means pleased to
find that she had in tow two large barges, termed
"flats," loaded with several hundred Coolies for
the tea plantations.

The horrors of a slave ship are familiar enough,
and in attempting to describe the position of the
poor wretches who were crowded into these
barges—men, women, and children indiscriminately
—without regard to sex or age, I shall put
forward no statement that cannot be substantiated.
Soon after we left Dacca, cholera broke
out amongst these miserable creatures, and in
less than three days we consigned several bodies
to the river.  It will, perhaps, be as well if I take
the reader back to Calcutta, for the purpose of
showing how the system of Coolie emigration to
the tea districts of Assam and Cachar was
carried on only twelve months ago.

The enormous demand for labour in those
provinces necessitated the establishment in
Calcutta of private emigration agents; and men,
women, and children, were contracted for like
cattle, at so much per head, the contractors
receiving from the tea-planters a certain sum
for every individual landed on their plantations,
as well as for those who died on the passage.
The result of this human traffic was, as might
have been expected, an amount of dishonesty
and cruelty as disgraceful and repugnant as the
African slave trade itself.  It was of little
consequence to the contractors how many died
during the three weeks' passage to Cachar or
Assam, since they received so much per head
for all those that quitted Calcutta.  The
result was, that old men and women, whose
lives might be reckoned in days, and even
hours, the lame, the halt, the blind, and the
diseased, were crammed pell-mell into these
barges, to infect men, women, and children who,
when they left Calcutta, were in the enjoyment
of robust health.  Previous to embarkation they
were collected at certain depôts, where, to use
the language of a government official well
known and respected throughout India, and who
has lately published an interesting work on the
cultivation of tea, "these unfortunate creatures
were located in places, the pestilential vapours
of which, generated by the ordure and filth with
which they were filled, were deadly to human
life.  Many contracted the germs of distemper
and disease, and in this state were placed in
gangs on board boats to be sent to their final
destination.  Here, crowded and huddled
together, and compelled to live in a state of
uncleanness revolting to human nature, as might
be expected cholera and other malignant diseases
broke out with fearful effect.  In some instances,
ten per cent of these wretched victims were
carried off in as many days.  In others, the
mortality reached to forty or fifty per cent in a
three weeks' voyage."

That there is not the slightest tinge of
exaggeration in this description I am confident, for
I have by me notes taken during our journey
from Dacca to Cachar on board the Thomas
Brassey—a voyage which lasted only ten days—
and I find not only numerous deaths recorded
amongst the Coolies from cholera and other
diseases, but also the fact mentioned, that
"among the number are several suffering from
elephantiasis, three totally blind, others unable
to walk except with the aid of crutches, and
one who has had his right hand amputated—a
valuable addition, certainly, to a tea plantation."
It will naturally be asked what becomes of these
useless creatures?  The reply is, that they are
turned adrift to shift for themselves as best they
can.

When we landed at Cachar, a dispute arose
between some of the planters to whom the
Coolies were consigned and the captain of the
Thomas Brassey; the planters contending that
they had received no advice concerning such a
large batch, and refusing to take overcharge of
more than the number they supposed themselves
entitled to; the captain of the steamer
insisting that every man, woman, and child should
leave his vessel at once, as he had performed the
contract he had undertaken of bringing them to
Cachar, and that he would not furnish a meal
for them after the anchor had dropped.  They
were all accordingly landed on the banks of the
river.  When we left Cachar, a few days
afterwards, many of them were still there, without
shelter of any description, and would no doubt
have starved if it had not been for the kindness
of a few government officials, who supplied
them with means of subsistence from their own
private purses.  One would have imagined that
owing to the scarcity of labour every Coolie
would have been greedily snatched up, and
doubtless they would have been if the emaciated
countenances and wasted limbs of those that
remained had not unmistakably given warning
that death had set his seal upon them.

To corroborate what I have stated concerning
the transmission of Coolies from Calcutta to the
tea-growing districts, I will make a few extracts
from a report drawn up by a committee of
gentlemen appointed by the Bengal government to
inquire into the system.

The opinion at which they arrived was, that
"Coolies were shipped in large batches without
any arrangement to secure order and cleanliness;
that uncooked food was issued without cooks
to prepare it; that the medical charge of the
coolies in many cases were left to ignorant
Chuprassies, who were entrusted with small
supplies of medicine, with the uses of which
they were, of course, as ignorant as the men to
whom they administered it," and that "labourers