Wanderings in India, and Other Sketches of Life in Hindostan

"But you were an exception," said I.

"Indeed not," was his reply. "I began life as a muleteer, and hence my partiality for mules, perhaps."

After a while the Rajah invited me to take a drive with him, to a house about two miles in the country, and situated on the banks of the Jumna. It was not his own house, which was then under repair, he said, but had been placed at his disposal by a friend. I thanked the Rajah, and stepped into his carriage; he followed me, seized the reins, shook the whip, and away we went at the rate of sixteen miles an hour.

The garden-house, at which we soon arrived, was a spacious building of European architecture. It had formerly belonged to a general officer who had married a native woman of considerable wealth. The furniture was all of European make, and was arranged very much in the same manner as that in the Sahib Logue's apartments at Bhitoor. In point of quality it was also very much the same – a portion costly, and the rest of a common description. This house, too, was constantly inhabited by English folks who sought a change of air for a few days. Since his removal to Agra, Lall Singh lived more like an European than a native, and had got into the habit of sitting at ease in a chair, instead of cross-legged like a tailor on the carpet. His dress was of the simplest and most unpretending character imaginable; and, with the exception of a signet-ring on his forefinger, he had no ornament on his person. The table of the apartment to which he conducted me was literally covered with surgical instruments – saws, knives, scalpels of every size and shape. Amongst them I perceived a pair of swords in wooden scabbards covered with rich green velvet, and ornamented with gold and precious stones. Observing that my eyes rested on these swords, he took one up, and remarked, "These have performed some curious operations in their time; but never in a hospital. They have been used chiefly for taking off heads. This once belonged to Dhyan Singh, and that to Heera Singh, who were both assassinated. They are of Damascus steel, and are sharper than any of these knives or scalpels. I have sent a number of swords to England to have them made into surgical instruments." Here our conversation was interrupted by a domestic, who announced —

"The Lallah Sahib;"

and presently a native gentleman walked, or rather limped (for he was lame of the right leg) into the room, and made a very graceful salaam, first to the Rajah and then to myself. He was rather short in stature, but very stoutly built, and about forty years of age. His eyes were full of intelligence and vigour, and his features regular and well-shapen. His manners were easy, affable, unassuming, and modest, and his attire as plain and quiet as possible.

"This gentleman, Sahib," said the Rajah, addressing me, "is a great friend of mine. This house belongs to him. A strange world is this! Only a few years ago, I offered a reward of a lac of rupees (ten thousand pounds) for his head, or two lacs to any one who would bring him alive to my tent."

"Indeed!"

"Yes; and if I had caught him, how changed would have been the whole face of affairs in this country!"

"How so?"

"This gentleman was the contractor for the British army; and, if I had got hold of him, the army could not have been supplied."

"But why was he worth more alive than dead?" I asked, with a laugh, in which the native gentleman heartily joined.

"Because," returned the Rajah, coolly, "if we had secured him alive we would have made him feed us with the supplies bought with his own money; which should also have paid the reward for his capture. This, by the way, was claimed by several who brought in heads, alleging that each was the head of the Lallah the contractor; but the attempted imposition was discovered, and the perpetrators were themselves decapitated."

Unlike Hindoos and Mussulmans, who drink in secret, Lall Singh drank neat brandy openly; and, rising from his chair, he administered unto himself a couple of glasses – or rather a tumbler half-filled – on this occasion. He could take more than two bottles of brandy without being in the least intoxicated. This was owing, of course, to the circumstance that he consumed considerable quantities of bhang; just in the same way that an opium-eater is rarely or never affected by drinking deeply of wine.

The Rajah's visitor, the Lallah Jooteepersâd, had a grievance, and a rather substantial one. He had claimed from the Government fifty-seven lacs of rupees (half a million and seventy-thousand pounds sterling) as the balance due to him for feeding the armies employed during the two Seik campaigns; and the Government had threatened to prosecute him, in one of their own courts, for an attempt to make an overcharge of forty thousand rupees, or four thousand pounds.

"And if they understand the principles of good government thoroughly," said the Rajah, "they will convict you, imprison you for life, and confiscate all your possessions, real and personal. That is the way the Lahore Durbar would have settled so large a claim. But the Indian Government has not the courage to act in that way."

"But I have not attempted to make an overcharge; and if my agents have done so, let it be deducted, if it be incorrect," said the Lallah.

"You are a criminal," said the Rajah.

"How so?" asked the Lallah.

"You say the Government owes you fifty-seven lacs?"

"Yes – and honestly."

"Well, is not that enough to warrant your being transported for life, or hanged? But, as I have told you, the Government has not courage to prosecute you."

In this opinion, however, Lall Singh was in error; for, that very night, the Lallah was informed that he was, to all intents and purposes, a prisoner, and must not leave Agra. The firm belief of every native, not only in the district but throughout India, was, that these proceedings had been taken to evade payment of the contractor's just demands. But the Lallah himself was the first to deny this assertion, and to declare that the prosecution arose out of the circumstance of the Commissary-General being a near relative of the Governor-General of India; that a civilian in power had a quarrel with the Commissary-General, and had represented, semi-officially, that great frauds had been committed, and there could be no question that the heads of the departments were cognisant of such frauds; that the Governor-General, anxious that the honour of a member of his ancient family should be cleared up, had determined upon a strict investigation; and that the civilian in question suggested the public prosecution of the contractor as the speediest and most satisfactory means of arriving at the result! And such was the opinion of many officers of the Government, civil and military!

The contractor, however, was eventually acquitted, and the Government paid the bill. But, to this day, the natives of India believe that the object of the Government was to cheat their creditor; while the officers, civil and military, are equally sanguine that it was "the honour of the family" that led to the most extraordinary and protracted trial that ever was known in India, and which was emphatically denounced, by the press and public; of every country in Europe, as absurd, unjust, and shameful. Nevertheless, Jooteepersâd cannot have harboured any revenge for the wrongs (involving disgrace and dishonour) which were heaped upon him; for it is he who has fed, for several months, the five thousand Christians during their incarceration in the fortress of Agra; and, amongst the number of civilians there shut up, is the gentleman who conducted the prosecution on the behalf of the Government, and who, in the execution of his duty, strove very hard indeed for a verdict of guilty! Without Jooteepersâd we could not have held Agra!

When the sun had gone down, and it was cool enough to walk abroad, Lall Singh led me into the extensive gardens which surrounded his temporary abode. The Lallah had left us, and I was now alone with the ex-Commander of the Seik Cavalry and the ex-Prime Minister of Lahore. I felt much more pleasure in his society than I should have felt had he been in the plenitude of his power; for he bore his altered condition with great dignity and cheerfulness, and discoursed upon all sorts of topics without any restraint or reserve. He even talked about the Ranee of Lahore – with whom his name had been so frequently coupled – and with a chivalrous spirit (whether his assertions were true or not is another matter) assured me that his intrigues with her had been confined exclusively to politics. I asked him where this helpless woman had fled to, after her miraculous escape from Benares, in the garb of a man? He replied that he knew not. He was sure she was not in Nepal – where the authorities supposed her to be – but somewhere in our own provinces.

"Was she a beautiful woman?" I asked.

"No; and never had been," was his reply. "But she had eyes which could charm like those of a snake, and a voice sweeter than that of a bird."

"They say she was the Messalina of the East," and I explained to him what the allusion signified.

"It is not true," he exclaimed vehemently. "She was a vain and clever woman; but the very opposite of the character that she has been described. She was proud of the influence she possessed over men in making them subservient to her will and her caprices."

"Had she great power over Runjeet Singh?"

"None. She was his doll, his plaything, and the only being who could calm him when he had the horrors. Nothing more."

"How the horrors?"

"Runjeet Singh began life as a petty chieftain, with a few hundred followers. He acquired a vast kingdom, and had the most powerful army that the East ever saw, or will see. Whilst he went on conquering, shedding blood, and plundering, he was easy in his mind; but, when he found that he had got as much as he could manage, he stopped; and then came his disquiet. His great fear then was that he could not retain what he had become possessed of – and his chief horror was that the Koh-i-noor would be carried off – that diamond which Runjeet Singh stole, and which the Ranee has worn a thousand times as a bracelet. That diamond which is now in the crown of England."

"Where did it come from originally?"

"No one can say that. The history of the Koh-i-noor has yet to be written. Did you ever see a likeness of Runjeet Singh?"

"Never."

"Then I will show you a very faithful one; a miniature taken by a famous painter who came from Delhi, and spent his life in Lahore. The Maharajah was a diminutive, shrivelled man, frightfully pitted with the small-pox, which had destroyed one of his eyes; but with the other he could gaze for an hour without ever winking. He had a shrill and squeaking voice; but it terrified those who heard it, especially when he was angry. He did not talk much; but he was a great listener. Then, shrivelled and emaciated as he was in his later years, he was possessed of immense physical strength when roused; and upon horseback, where skill could be exercised, few men in his kingdom could have disarmed him."

"Indeed!"

"He inspired all those who approached him – whether European or native – with respect mingled with intense fear."

Our conversation was here interrupted by a gardener, who presented the Rajah and myself respectively with a nosegay; and who volunteered the information, that some workmen, in digging the foundation for a vine trellis had come upon an old house under the earth, and in it had been found several gold and silver coins.

"Where?" asked the Rajah.

"There," said the gardener, pointing in the direction.

We hurried to the spot, and found that the workmen had gone; but sure enough, there were the walls of an apartment, formed of red stone and white marble.

"This quarter of Agra," said the Rajah to me, "was formerly inhabited by persons of the highest rank. Where we are now standing was, no doubt, once the site of a palace; and these walls are those of the ty-khana – a vault beneath the dwelling from which the light is excluded. In these dark places are usually perpetrated what you English call 'dark deeds.'"

I expressed a desire to explore this newly discovered apartment of former days; but the Rajah told me it was then too late, as the workmen had gone; but he promised me that if I would come to him at daylight on the following morning, he would have great pleasure in gratifying my curiosity.

On the following morning, having spent a very dreamy night, I was carried in my palanquin to the Jatnee Bagh. Such was the name of Jooteepersâd's garden-house, in which Lall Singh then resided. The Rajah was dressing. I was confronted by a Seik with an enormous beard, whose hair was a yard long and tied up in a peculiar knot on the top of his head, and who politely inquired if I would take coffee. Ere long the Rajah made his appearance, and we went together to the newly discovered ty-khana, which was now guarded, since gold and silver had been found there. The workmen, some twenty in number, came and commenced their labour: that of clearing away the earth in all directions, in order to get to the bottom of the apartment in the ty-khana. This was accomplished in about two hours, and we then stood upon a stone-floor in the centre of a room, about sixteen feet square. In several of the niches were little lamps, such as are burnt upon the tombs of Moslems, and a hookah and a pair of marble chairs were found in the subterraneous apartment; of which the sky was now the roof. Whilst examining the walls, I observed that, upon one side, there was a ledge about six feet high from the floor (and carried up therefrom), and about a foot in width. This ledge, which was of brick and plaster, resembled a huge mantelpiece, and was continued from one end of the apartment to the other. I asked the Rajah the reason of such a structure in the apartment. He replied that he did not know, nor could any of the workmen account for it; one of them, however, took a pickaxe and dug out a portion, when, to my surprise and horror, I discovered that in this wall a human being had been bricked up. The skin was still upon the bones, which were covered with a costly dress of white muslin, spangled all over with gold; around the neck was a string of pearls; on the wrists and ankles were gold bangles, and on the feet were a pair of slippers, embroidered all over with silver wire or thread; such slippers as only Mahommedan women of rank or wealth can afford to wear. The body resembled a well-preserved mummy. The features were very distinct, and were those of a woman whose age could not at the time of her death have exceeded eighteen or nineteen years. The head was partially covered with the white dress. Long black hair was still clinging to the scalp, and was parted across the forehead and carried behind the ears. It was the most horrible and ghastly figure that I ever beheld.

The workmen appeared to take this discovery as a matter of course; or, rather, to regard it only with reference to the gold and silver ornaments upon the skeleton, and it was with great difficulty that I could prevent them stripping it, forthwith. As for the Rajah, he simply smiled and coolly remarked: "A case of jealousy. Her husband was jealous of her, and thought her guilty, and punished her thus – bricked her up alive in this wall, with no room to move about, only standing room. Perhaps she deserved it, – perhaps she was plotting against his life; perhaps she was innocent: who can say? Hindoos as well as Mahommedans punish their wives in that way."

"You mean that they used to do so in former times, previous to British rule in India. But such a thing could not occur in our time."

"It does not occur so often as it did; but it does occur, sometimes, even in these days. How do you know what happens in the establishment of a wealthy native? Let us look a little further into the wall. It strikes me that we shall find some more of them."

Orders were given accordingly to the workmen to remove with great care the whole of the ledge, in short, to pull away its entire face. This was done; and how shall I describe the awful spectacle then presented? In that wall there were no less than five bodies, – four besides that already alluded to. One of the number was a young man, who from his dress and the jewels on his finger-bones must have been a person of high rank; perhaps the lover of one, or both, of the young women; for he had been bricked up between two of them. The others were evidently those of confidential servants; old women, for they had grey hair. They possibly had been cognisant, or were supposed to be cognisant, of whatever offence the others had been deemed guilty.

The sun was now shining brightly on these ghastly remains, covered with garments embroidered in gold and silver. The air had a speedy effect on them, and, one by one, they fell; each forming a heap of bones, hair, shrivelled skin, dust, jewels, and finery. The latter were now gathered up, placed in a small basket, and sent to Lallah. Their value, possibly, was upwards of a thousand pounds. How many years had passed since that horrible sentence had been put into execution? Not less than one hundred and seventy, or perhaps two hundred.

INDIAN SOCIETY

Whilst I was at Agra, a distinguished military officer of high rank, who had just been appointed as a member of the Council, passed through the station on his way to the seat of government, Calcutta. It was supposed that this general officer would, on the first vacancy, become Deputy-Governor of Bengal; and of course the society of Agra was resolved to do him honour. It would not do for anybody to hang back on an occasion like this; and, for the nonce, both the civilians and the military were of one mind, and actually met on an amicable and pleasant footing, to talk the matter over, and to decide upon what was to be done. After a friendly debate, which lasted for four hours, it was resolved that Sir Gunter and Lady Gallopaway should be invited to a ball and supper, and not to a dinner. It was further determined that the entertainment should take place, not at Government-house (that would be too Civil) – not at any mess-room (that would be too Military) – but at a good-sized hall called the Metcalfe Institution, this being perfectly neutral ground. My friend, the civilian with whom I had been staying, had a perfect contempt for these local squabbles – although he was really compelled to take a part therein; and, after the meeting was over, he sat down and wrote a metrical squib, ridiculing the whole affair, and sent it for publication to one of the newspapers, the Delhi Gazette. For this squib – seeing that it sneered at both the civilians and the military – I unfortunately got the credit, and the consequence was, that, when I made my appearance at the ball, several of the heads of the society who had formerly received me with extreme cordiality, answered me only in monosyllables when I addressed them. Indeed, I learnt afterwards, from my friend's wife, that a meeting had actually been called to consider the propriety of not inviting me, and that I had very narrowly escaped that punishment; for had it not been for the vote of her husband my name would have been omitted, as there were ten for and ten against me, when he held up his hand in my favour.

But to the ball. There were present some twenty civilians, all dressed in black with white cravats; and each had brought with him his wife, or a sister, or daughter. Of military men (all in full dress uniform) there were about forty-five or fifty; and the ladies who came with them may have numbered thirty. In all, say that there were present – including visitors and stragglers like myself – one hundred and forty. I was rather late, and, on entering the room, beheld one of the oddest sights that I ever witnessed: all the black coats were huddled together, and so were all the reds. They had been unanimous only so far as giving the entertainment was concerned; and it seemed to be distinctly understood by each party that there was to be no mixing; and so the civilians formed quadrilles and danced with the civil ladies, and the soldiers with the military ladies. Had there been a royal regiment in Agra, there would have been three parties, owing to the jealousy that existed formerly between the Queen's and the Company's officers. Besides myself, there were two "interlopers in the East" present at that ball. The one, a French gentleman; the other, a German Baron. They, too, were travelling about in search of the picturesque, and here they had it with a vengeance. The Frenchman could not comprehend this exclusiveness on the part of the blacks; but the German assured us that to him it was a very common sight, and to be witnessed at every ball in every garrison town in his country. "But there," said he, "the military look down on the civilians, while here, it seems to me, that the civilians look down on the military. See, see! See how disdainfully that old Mrs. Revenue Board scrutinizes the dress of Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel Damzè!"

Sure enough such was the case. "But regard!" said the Frenchman; "how angry is that Mrs. Sudder Adawlut, because that little Mrs. Infantry (whose husband, I am told, is the younger son of a poor English lord) is contemplating her nez en l'air. Truly this is a magnificent spectacle! Is it always so, I wonder?"

I was enabled, from experience, to inform him, that in almost every large station – and at Agra especially – it universally occurs; but that in small stations seldom or never.

Here we were approached by Lieutenant-Colonel Damzè himself. After exchanging a few words with the foreign gentlemen on either side of me, he passed on, seemingly proud and happy at having had an opportunity of slighting me in public, on account of the doggerel for which I had the credit.

"Mais, monsieur," said the Frenchman to me, "who, in wonder's name, are all these Damzè gentlemen? There is one Damzè, colonel of such a regiment; another Damzè, major in another corps. There is a Deputy Commissary-General Damzè; there is a Mr. Damzè in the Indian navy; another Damzè is a military secretary; some half dozen Damzès are, I have perceived, on the staff of the Commander-in-Chief. Parbleu! C'est Damzè – toujours Damzè! for here, by Heaven, I meet with still another Damzè! Who are all these Damzès?"

I informed him that Damzè was the patronymic of a nobleman in power; and with this explanation he was thoroughly enlightened, and appeared to be perfectly satisfied.

"Let us move up towards the General," said the German Baron, who had been introduced to the old hero. "Let us go and say a few words to him."

It was not easy to do this; hemmed in as was the General by those who desired to make him remember them in the future. However, it was managed at last; and, somehow or other, we three interlopers contrived before long to monopolize his attention – we the only people in the room to whom he could not be of any service – for there was nothing that he could give, or get for us, if we had wanted his patronage. We, rather maliciously – so far as the crowd was concerned – stood about the distinguished old man and guarded him; and I have reason to know that he was grateful to us for so doing. Towards the hour of twelve, however, we had to stand back; for Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel Damzè came and sat upon the sofa on the left side of the General, and talked to him in an animated but somewhat anxious manner, which became even more anxious when Mrs. Revenue Board approached, and taking a seat on the General's right (eyeing Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel Damzè with a somewhat haughty expression), congratulated the General on his recent good fortune. At this advanced stage of the evening also, Lady Gallopaway was flanked right and left by old Mr. Revenue Board and Lieutenant-Colonel Damzè, C.B. The reader is requested to note that these two letters – C.B. – were Damzè's by right; or, at all events, that he had been recommended for the order, and that the recommendation had been instantly attended to; albeit Damzè had never been within range of an enemy's cannon in the whole course of his life. Lady Gallopaway yawned.

At length a gong sounded, and the band struck up that usual signal that supper is ready, "O, the Roast Beef of Old England, O, the Old English Roast Beef."

The anxiety of the ladies who sat on either side of the General was now at it height. They fanned themselves with fearful vigour; and we, the three interlopers, fancied that we could hear the palpitation of their hearts. Meanwhile their husbands, respectively, by their looks, evinced a corresponding anxiety. Each stood ready to offer his arm to Lady Gallopaway as soon as the General had made his election – of the lady he would lead to the supper table. Each party was equally confident but equally nervous, like the parties to a lawsuit. For weeks past this question of precedence had been debated in Agra, and very warmly debated – namely, whether Mrs. Revenue Board, of the Civil Service, or Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel Damzè, C.B., was entitled to the pas. Now was the moment for a decision, or at all events an authority in support of either position or argument. The old General (upon whom both Mr. Revenue Board and Lieutenant-Colonel Damzè, C.B., had their anxious eyes) rose, smiled, bowed to the ladies who had flanked him, left them, and wandered about the ball-room, looking to the right and left, as if searching for some one. Presently he stopped short before little Mrs. Infantry, who was talking to a cornet of the 17th Light Cavalry. The General offered her his arm. She took it very graciously, and was led away. But before leaving the room she halted, turned round, and stared very significantly at the two elderly ladies who were still seated on the sofa, overwhelmed in surprise, horror, and indignation. Infantry, who was only a lieutenant in his regiment, observing that the General had recognised the social right of his wife, which she had derived solely from him, instantly rushed up to Lady Gallopaway, and offered her an arm (which she took), led her away in triumph, leaving his own Colonel (Damzè) and old Mr. Revenue Board gasping and gaping at each other in mutual disgust and consternation. Had a shell burst in the building, had the powder magazine exploded and shattered all the windows, the commotion could scarcely have been greater than it was at that moment. No one could account for this extraordinary conduct, or caprice, as it was termed, on the part of the old General. Damzè, who had just been flattering him concerning his wonderful achievements, now declared that "the old fool had become half-witted since eighteen hundred and forty-seven," while Revenue Board, who a quarter of an hour previously had, to the General's face, held forth on the unflinching independence which had marked his character through life, now protested – openly protested – that he had been a time-server throughout his entire career, and had some object in thus truckling before the son of an influential peer! The ladies on the sofa stared at each other; now commiseratingly and in silence for at least two minutes, then simultaneously ejaculated: "What can it mean!"