Literary references to Nainital

1860. From (the public domain), The Life of The Right Rev. Daniel Wilson, D.D., Late Lord Bishop of Calcutta and Metropolitan of India, Volume II, John Murray, Albemarle Street, London, 1860. Chapter XVII (First Metropolitan Visitation): "Onwards through Futtehgur and Bareilly he passed to a new mountain station, called Nynee-Thal. Concerning it, he writes":

'Nynee-Thal, 6,200 feet (1,900 m) above the level of the sea.' '23 February 1844.' 'We came up here yesterday, fourteen miles (21 km), by one of those strange, winding, precipitous roads, common to all mountainous countries. The air is keen and penetrating. The spot is one of those beautiful scenes with which the Himalayahs abound. Its peculiarity is an enclosure of rocks, two thousand feet above the spot itself, and covered with hanging woods, protecting, as it were, with their giant forms the peaceful lake, or "Thal," below. Around this lake the gentry are beginning to erect their houses, as at Simlah and Mussooree. The whole is like the "Happy Valley" of Rasselas. We halt here, on our way to Almorah, longer than we should otherwise do, because of the movement of troops. A site for a church (Note: to be later named St. John in the Wilderness) has been chosen; and to lay the foundation is my special business here. Beasts of prey, tigers, leopards, &c., abound so fearfully, that there is no stirring out without guides, armed with guns and spears'

"The visit to this spot was, however, evidently premature. The season was far too early. Not a single European was in residence. The Bishop was compelled to take shelter in a miserable, half-finished, and totally unfurnished house. He caught a bad cold, and was taken very ill; and after moving to Almorah, kept his bed for some days. It was not till 8 March that he was able to consecrate the little church at Almorah, designed on his former visit."

1887. Hannah S. Battersby. From the book: Home Lyrics, Toronto : Hunter, Rose & Co. (In the public domain. Available on Project Gutenberg .)

The Naini Tal Catastrophe of 18th September 1880
... And though the sky hung like a sable pall
Over the fair oasis, nestling calm
Beneath the trusted shelter of the hills,
And o'er the broad lake-outlet of the floods,
What cause had they to fear? 'Twas often thus,
And the long wished-for rains would bring forth joy
So reasoned they who, peaceful, viewed unmoved
Th' outpouring of that sullen ocean cloud,
When suddenly, they who had calmly felt
So safe one little span of time before,
Discovered in dismay the swollen floods
Meant danger—that the safety of their homes.
Was menaced, walls were tottering, waters rose, ...

For scarcely had they timely refuge found,
Than a huge limb of the great mountain fell,
Sweeping the fair hill-side of house and land,
And burying dozens of their fellow men
In one uncompromising, living tomb! ...

Strong men in the proud glory of life's prime,
Women in joyful trustfulness of love
With little children in full bloom of life;
All in the twinkling of an eye cut down,
In that rude harvest of the tyrant Death! ...

Now the late lovely valley, Naini Tal
Stands as a witness of the frailty
Of human strength 'gainst the o'erwhelming might ...

1889. Rudyard Kipling Story of the Gadsbys. From chapter, The World Without.

"CURTISS. There's something in that. It was slightly noticeable now you come to mention it. But she's at Naini Tal and he's at Simla. ANTHONY. He had to go to Simla to look after a globe-trotter relative of his—a person with a title. Uncle or aunt. BLAYNE. And there he got engaged. No law prevents a man growing tired of a woman. ANTHONY. Except that he mustn’t do it till the woman is tired of him. And the Herriott woman was not that. CURTISS. She may be now. Two months of Naini Tal works wonders."

From chapter, Tents of Kedar,

SCENE—A Naini Tal dinner for thirty-four. Plate, wines, crockery, and khitmatgars care fully calculated to scale of Rs. 6000 per mensem, less Exchange. Table split lengthways by bank of flowers. MRS. HERRIOTT. (After conversation has risen to proper pitch.) Ah! Didn't see you in the crush in the drawing-room. (Sotto voce.) Where have you been all this while, Pip?" .... "PARTNER ON LEFT. Very close tonight, isn't it? You find it too much for you? MRS. H. Oh, no, not in the least. But they really ought to have punkahs, even in your cool Naini Tal, oughtn’t they? (Turns, dropping fan and raising eyebrows.) CAPT. G. It's all right. (Aside.) Here comes the storm!"

1895. Rudyard Kipling, Only a Subaltern in Under the Deodars From the short story:

Bobby pressed his forehead against the rain-splashed window-pane as the train lumbered across the sodden Doab, and prayed for the health of the Tyneside Tail Twisters. Naini Tal had sent down her contingent with all speed; the lathering ponies of the Dalhousie Road staggered into Pathankot, taxed to the full stretch of their strength; while from cloudy Darjiling the Calcutta Mail whirled up the last straggler of the little army that was to fight a fight, in which was neither medal nor honour for the winning, against an enemy none other than "the sickness that destroyeth in the noonday."

1900. From, Recollections of my life, by Sir Joseph Fayrer, William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh and London, 1900. Chapter 18. Prince of Wales' Visit to India (cont.)

8 Feb. (1876)--We were met by General Ramsay, the Hon. R. Drummond, and other officials, and drove towards the hills at a rapid, arriving at our first camp, at Baraini, on the edge of the forest which skirts the lower range of hills. Here we found numerous tents, with elephants posted here and there, and all the requirements of a shooting camp. A party, composed of the Prince, Lord Suffield, Probyn, C. Beresford, Fitz-George, Lord A. Paget, Rose, and myself, drove on as far as Kaladoongee, where we found ponies waiting to take us up to Naini Tal. Half-way up, about nine miles (14 km), we changed ponies, and found refreshments ready. I had a capital beast, and he went up the hill gallantly, trotting the whole way. In ascending, the flora gradually changes, and the pine begins just about where the plantain ends, though they may be seen growing side by side. When near Naini Tal we diverged from the path and ascended a higher ridge, where we had a fine view of the snowy ranges in the distance. Nunda Devi--over 25,000 feet (7,600 m) high--and other snowy peaks were visible. There was much cloud gathered about the lower parts of the snowy range, but the snow-capped summits were seen above. We passed the pretty little lake of the Bheem Tal, and at length, after descending from the ridge, arrived at the station of Naini Tal, with its houses picturesquely perched on ledges and terraces at various heights above the lake, which fills the crater of an extinct volcano. We were lodged at St. Loo a house belonging to Mr. Drummond, beautifully situated high above the lake. Fires were burning, and they looked quite English. It was not perceptibly colder than the previous night in the plains, though I imagine we have ascended nearly 8,000 feet (2,400 m).

1901. John Watson M'Crindle. Ancient India: As Described in Classical Literature, Archibald Constable & Company, Westminster. On page 59, the Greek Historian and Geographer Strabo (63 BC - c. 24 AD) is quoted:

"He says also that there are monkeys, rollers of rocks, which climb precipices and roll down stones upon their pursuers, and that most of the animals that are tame with us are wild in India." Footnote: "In a paper read before the Royal Irish Academy in 1884, Dr. V. Ball, referring to this passage says: "But that it is not impossible that the story may have referred to real monkeys will be apparent from the following personal experience of my own: When at Malwa Tal, a lake near Naini Tal, in the Himalayas, I was warned that in passing under a landslip, which slopes down to the lake, I should be liable to have stones thrown at me by monkeys. Regarding this as being possibly a traveller's tale, I made a particular point of going to the spot in order to see what could have given rise to it. As I approached the base of the landslip, near the road on the north side of the lake, I saw a number of brown monkeys (Inuus rhesus) rush to the sides and across the top of the landslip, and presently pieces of loosened stone and shale came tumbling down near where I stood. I fully satisfied myself that this was not merely accidental, for I distinctly saw one monkey industriously with both forepaws and with obvious malice prepense, pushing the loose shingle off a shoulder of rock. I then tried the effect of throwing stones at them, and this made them quite angry, and the number of fragments which they set rolling was speedily doubled."

1920. From, Eva Shaw McLaren, Elsie Inglis: The Woman with the Torch, New York: The Macmillan Company.

Elsie Inglis was born on 16 August 1864, in Naini Tal, India. The wide plains of India, the "huddled hills" and valleys of the Himalayas, were the environment with which Nature surrounded her for the first twelve years of her life. Her childhood was a happy one, and the most perfect friendship existed between her and her father from her earliest days.

"All our childhood is full of remembrances of father. He never forgot our birthdays; however hot it was down in the scorched plains, when the day came round, if we were up in the hills, a large parcel would arrive from him. His very presence was joy and strength when he came to us at Naini Tal. What a remembrance there is of early breakfasts and early walks with him—the father and the three children! The table was spread in the verandah between six and seven. Father made three cups of cocoa, one for each of us, and then the glorious walk! The ponies followed behind, each with their attendant grooms, and two or three red-coated chaprassies, father stopping all along the road to talk to every native who wished to speak to him, while we three ran about, laughing and interested in everything. Then, at night, the shouting for him after we were in bed, and father's step bounding up the stair in Calcutta, or coming along the matted floor of our hill home. All order and quietness were flung to the winds while he said good-night to us."