Lang John
Wanderings in India, and Other Sketches of Life in Hindostan
I had scarcely made myself comfortable, when the khansamah informed me that dinner was on the table. This was welcome intelligence, for I had not tasted food since morning, and it was half-past five p. m. I sat down to a table twenty feet long (it had originally been the mess table of a cavalry regiment), which was covered with a damask table-cloth of European manufacture, but instead of a dinner-napkin there was a bed-room towel. The soup – for he had everything ready – was served up in a trifle-dish which had formed part of a dessert service belonging to the 9th Lancers – at all events, the arms of that regiment were upon it; but the plate into which I ladled it with a broken tea-cup, was of the old willow pattern. The pilao which followed the soup, was served upon a huge plated dish, but the plate from which I ate it, was of the very commonest description. The knife was a bone-handled affair; the spoon and the fork were of silver, and of Calcutta make. The plated side-dishes, containing vegetables, were odd ones; one was round, the other oval. The pudding was brought in upon a soup-plate of blue and gold pattern, and the cheese was placed before me on a glass dish belonging to a dessert service. The cool claret I drank out of a richly cut champagne glass, and the beer out of an American tumbler, of the very worst quality.
I had not yet seen "the Maharajah." It was not until past eight that a moonshee came and inquired if I would have an interview with his highness. I replied that it would give me great joy, and was forthwith conducted through numerous narrow and gloomy passages to an apartment at the corner of the building. Here sat the Maharajah on a Turkey carpet, and reclining slightly on a huge bolster. In front of him were his hookah, a sword, and several nosegays. His highness rose, came forward, took my hand, led me to the carpet, and begged of me to be seated on a cane-bottomed arm-chair, which had evidently been placed ready for my especial ease and occupation. After the usual compliments had passed, the Maharajah inquired if I had eaten well. But, perhaps, the general reader would like to know what are "the usual compliments."
Native Rajah. "The whole world is ringing with the praise of your illustrious name."
Humble Sahib. "Maharaj. You are very good."
Native Rajah. "From Calcutta to Cabul – throughout the whole of Hindoostan – every tongue declares that you have no equal. Is it true?"
Humble Sahib (who, if he knows anything of Asiatic manners and customs, knows that he must not contradict his host, but eat his compliments with a good appetite). "Maharaj."
Native Rajah. "The acuteness of your perceptions, and the soundness of your understanding, have, by universal report, became as manifest as even the light of the sun itself." Then, turning to his attendants of every degree, who, by this time, had formed a circle round me and the Rajah, he put the question, "Is it true, or not?"
The attendants, one and all, declare that it was true; and inquire whether it could be possible for a great man like the Maharajah to say that which was false.
Native Rajah. "The Sahib's father is living?"
Humble Sahib. "No; he is dead, Maharaj."
Native Rajah. "He was a great man?"
Humble Sahib. "Maharaj. You have honoured the memory of my father, and exalted it in my esteem, by expressing such an opinion."
Native Rajah. "And your mother? She lives?"
Humble Sahib. "By the goodness of God, such is the case."
Native Rajah. "She is a very handsome woman?"
Humble Sahib. "On that point, Maharaj, I cannot offer an opinion."
Native Rajah. "You need not do so. To look in your face is quite sufficient. I would give a crore of rupees (one million sterling) to see her only for one moment, and say how much I admired the intelligent countenance of her son. I am going to England next year. Will the Sahib favour me with her address?"
Humble Sahib. "Maharaj."
Here the Native Rajah calls to the moonshee to bring pen, ink, and paper. The moonshee comes, sits before me, pen in hand, looks inquiringly into my eyes, and I dictate as follows, laughing inwardly all the while: "Lady Bombazine, Munnymunt, ka uper, Peccadilleemee, Bilgrave Isqueere, Sunjons wood-Cumberwill;" which signifies this: "Lady Bombazine, on the top of the Monument, in Piccadilly, Belgrave Square, St. Johns Wood, Camberwell." This mystification must be excused by the plea that the Rajah's assertions of his going to Europe are as truthful as Lady Bombazine's address.
The Maharajah then gives instructions that that document shall be preserved amongst his most important papers, and resumes the conversation.
Native Rajah. "The Sahib has eaten well?"
Humble Sahib. "Maharaj."
Native Rajah. "And drunk?"
Humble Sahib. "Maharaj."
Native Rajah. "The Sahib will smoke hookah?"
Humble Sahib. "The Maharajah is very good."
A hookah is called for by the Rajah; and then at least a dozen voices repeat the order: "Hookah lao, Sahib ke waste." (Bring a hookah for the Sahib.) Presently the hookah is brought in. It is rather a grand affair, but old, and has evidently belonged to some European of extravagant habits. Of course, no native would smoke out of it (on the ground of caste), and it is evidently kept for the use of the Sahib logue.1
While I am pulling away at the hookah, the musahibs, or favourites of the Rajah, flatter me, in very audible whispers. "How well he smokes!" "What a fine forehead he has!" "And his eyes! how they sparkle!" "No wonder he is so clever!" "He will be Governor-General some day." "Khuda-kuren!" (God will have it so.)
Native Rajah. "Sahib, when you become Governor-General, you will be a friend to the poor?"
Humble Sahib (speaking from the bottom of his heart). "Most assuredly, Maharaj."
Native Rajah. "And you will listen to the petition of every man, rich and poor alike."
Humble Sahib. "It will be my duty so to do."
Native Rajah (in a loud voice). "Moonshee!"
Moonshee (who is close at hand). "Maharaj, Protector of the Poor."
Native Rajah. "Bring the petition that I have laid before the Governor-General."
The moonshee produces the petition, and at the instance of the Rajah, reads, or rather sings it aloud. The Rajah listens with pleasure to its recital of his own wrongs, and I affect to be astounded that so much injustice can possibly exist. During my rambles in India I have been the guest of some scores of rajahs, great and small, and I never knew one who had not a grievance. He had either been wronged by the government, or by some judge, whose decision had been against him. In the matter of the government, it was a sheer love of oppression that led to the evil of which he complained; in the matter of the judge, that functionary had been bribed by the other party.
It was with great difficulty that I kept my eyes open while the petition – a very long one – was read aloud. Shortly after it was finished, I craved permission to retire, and was conducted by a bearer to the sleeping-room, in the centre of which was a huge bedstead, a four-poster, but devoid of curtains. On either side were large looking-glasses in gilt frames, not suspended on the walls, but placed against them. Over the bed was a punkah, which was immediately set in motion. The movement of the punkah served a double purpose; it cooled the room, and drove away the musquitoes. Having thrown myself on the bed, the bearer, who was in attendance, inquired if I would be shampooed. This was a luxury to which I was always partial, and, having signified that I desired it, four men were shouted for. Each took an arm or a leg, and began to press it, and crack the knuckle-joints of my fingers and toes. This continued until I had fallen asleep. I did not wake until eight o'clock on the following morning, when I was waited upon by the khansamah, who wished to know my pleasure with respect to breakfast. He informed me that he had "Futnum and Meesum's," Yorkshire pie, game pie, anchovy toast, mutton-chop, steak, sardines – in short, all that the Sahib logue were accustomed to take.
My breakfast over, and my hookah smoked, I lighted a cheroot, and walked out into a verandah, where I was soon joined by some of the Maharajah's favourites and dependents, who poured into my ear a repetition of the flattery to which I had listened on the previous night. It is not very tedious when you become used to it, and know that it is a matter of course, and is applied to every European guest of any real or supposed importance. Whilst thus engaged, smoking and listening, I was joined by the Maharajah, who held in his hand the Delhi Gazette, the Mofussilite, and the Calcutta Englishman. Of their entire contents he had been made acquainted by a half-caste, whom he kept (so he informed me) for the sole purpose of translating, orally, into Hindostanee, the Indian journals and the government gazettes, published in the English language. There was no occasion for me to read these papers, for the Maharajah gave me a very accurate resumé of them; having done this, he asked me to play a game of billiards. I am not a bad billiard-player; on the contrary, I have the vanity to think that I play remarkably well; but it was quite evident to me that the Maharajah did not play his best, and that he suffered me to beat him as easily as I did, simply out of what he considered to be politeness. All the while we were playing the favourites or courtiers of the Maharajah were praising us both. Neither of us made a stroke, good or bad, that did not bring down a shower of compliments. My impression is, that if I had run a cue, and cut the cloth at the same time, the bystanders would have shouted in praise of my skill and execution. I had already seen enough of native character to know exactly how I was to act. I feigned to be charmed with my success – childishly charmed. Whilst I was thus (to the delight of my host) ostensibly revelling in my triumph, the marker – a native, a Hindoo – took up a cue, and began to knock the balls about. He cannoned all over the table, went in off the red and white, screwed back under the cushion, and, in short, did whatever he pleased, and with perfect ease.
I could not help expressing to the Rajah my astonishment at the Hindoo marker's skill; whereupon, he informed me that, when he was a mere boy, he had been taught by the best player (an officer in the Light Cavalry) that ever came to India, and that for several years past he had been marker at various mess-rooms where billiards were played. The name of this Hindoo Jonathan was Runjeet. He was six-and-twenty years of age, about five feet five in height, remarkably slim, had a very handsome face, and eyes full of fire and spirit. He was for a long time marker to the Horse Artillery mess at Meerut, where I once saw him play a game with an officer celebrated for his skill. Runjeet gave his adversary sixty points out of a hundred, and won easily. What with his pay, or salary, the presents he received from gentlemen to whom he taught the game, and the gold mohurs that he occasionally had given to him when he won bets for his backers, Runjeet was in possession of some six hundred pounds a-year; but he was so extravagant in his habits, that he spent every anna, and died, I was told, "not worth money enough to buy the wood to burn him."
The Maharajah, on leaving the billiard-room, invited me to accompany him to Cawnpore. I acquiesced, and the carriage was ordered. The carriage was English-built – a very handsome landau – and the horses were English horses; but the harness! It was country-made, of the very commonest kind, and worn out, for one of the traces was a piece of rope. The coachman was filthy in his dress, and the whip that he carried in his hand was an old broken buggy-whip, which some European gentleman must have thrown away. On the box, on either side of the coachman, sat a warlike retainer, armed with a sword and a dagger. In the rumble were two other retainers, armed in the same manner. Besides the Rajah and myself there were three others (natives and relatives of the Rajah) in the vehicle. On the road the Rajah talked incessantly, and amongst other things that he told me was this, in reference to the praises that I bestowed on his equipage.
"Not long ago I had a carriage and horses very superior to these. They cost me twenty-five thousand rupees; but I had to burn the carriage and kill the horses."
"Why so?"
"The child of a certain Sahib in Cawnpore was very sick, and the Sahib and the mem-Sahib were bringing the child to Bhitoor for a change of air. I sent my big carriage for them. On the road the child died; and, of course, as a dead body had been in the carriage, and as the horses had drawn that dead body in that carriage, I could never use them again." The reader must understand that a native of any rank considers it a disgrace to sell property.
"But could you not have given the horses to some friend – a Christian or a Mussulman?"
"No; had I done so, it might have come to the knowledge of the Sahib, and his feelings would have been hurt at having occasioned me such a loss."
Such was the Maharajah, commonly known as Nena Sahib. He appeared to me not a man of ability, nor a fool. He was selfish; but what native is not? He seemed to be far from a bigot in matters of religion; and, although he was compelled to be so very particular about the destruction of his carriage and horses, I am quite satisfied that he drank brandy, and that he smoked hemp in the chillum of his hookah.
It was half-past five o'clock when we arrived at Cawnpore. The officers, civil and military, and their wives, were just coming out for their evening drive on the mall. Some were in carriages, some in buggies, some on horseback. Every soul saluted the Maharajah; who returned the salute according to Eastern fashion – raising the hands to the forehead. Several gentlemen approached the carriage when it was drawn up near the band-stand, and inquired after the Maharajah's health. He replied that it was good and then introduced me to them in the following manner, and in strict accordance with the letter he had received from Lucknow: "This Sahib who sits near me is a great friend of the Governor-General, and is a relation of all the members of Council – a constant guest of the Queen of England" (then came this addition of his own) "and of both Houses of Parliament." I need scarcely say that I wished my Lucknow friends had not covered me with such recommendations; for, wherever we went, and to whomsoever we spoke – no matter whether it was an European shopkeeper or an official magnate of Cawnpore – I was doomed to hear, "This Sahib who sits (or stands) near me is a great friend," &c., &c. Having exhibited me sufficiently in Cawnpore, the heads of the horses were turned towards Bhitoor, and we were dragged along the road at a slow pace, for the animals were extremely fatigued. The natives of India have no mercy on their cattle, especially their horses. During the ride back, I was again bored with the Rajah's grievance; and, to quiet him – for he became very much excited – I was induced to promise that I would talk to the Governor-General and the Council on the subject; and that if I did not succeed in that quarter, I would, on my return to England, take the earliest opportunity "some day, quietly, after dinner" (this was his suggestion), of representing to her Majesty the exact state of the case, and that an adopted son of a Hindoo was entitled to all the rights and privileges of an heir born of the body. I furthermore promised him most solemnly that I would not speak to the Board of Control, or to the Privy Council on the subject; for the Maharajah assured me that he had the most positive proof that both these institutions had eaten bribes from the hand of the East India Company in respect of his claim. On probing him, however, I discovered that this positive proof was a letter from a villanous agent in England, who had written to him to say that "the Company had bribed the Board of Control and the Privy Council, and that if his Highness expected to succeed, he must bribe over the head of the Company. Three lacs (thirty thousand pounds) would do it all."
The Maharajah gave a nautch (native dance by women) that night.
On the following morning I awoke with a very bad headache, and in a philosophic mood. The various perfumes which had been sprinkled over my dress had somewhat overpowered me, and it may have been that the story told me in whispers by one of the three slaves who came to sing me to sleep had disordered my imagination. I was told that two women of rank were kept in a den not far from my apartments, and treated like wild beasts; and a third – a beautiful young creature – had recently been "bricked up in a wall," for no other fault than attempting to escape.
After breakfast, the Rajah showed me his elephants, his camels, his horses, his dogs, his pigeons, his falcons, his wild asses, his apes, his aviary full of birds, and all the rest of his curiosities. Then he exhibited his guns and pistols – by Purdey, Egg, and other celebrated makers – his swords, and his daggers, of every country and age, and when he had observed that he was very happy, under the influence of some stimulant recently imbibed, I took an opportunity of discoursing on the vanity of human wishes, and especially with reference to his Highness's grievance. I translated many sentiments of Juvenal and Horace into Hindoostanee; but, I regret to say, they had no effect on Nena Sahib.
THE UPPER PROVINCES
It is impossible for an English gentleman to take his departure from the house of a native of India without giving a number of testimonials, in the shape of "letters of recommendation" addressed to no one in particular. Nena Sahib had a book containing the autographs of at least a hundred and fifty gentlemen and ladies, who had testified in writing to the attention and kindness they had received at the hands of the Maharajah during their stay at Bhitoor. Having expressed my satisfaction as emphatically as possible in this book, the khansamah (house steward) demanded a certificate, which I gave him. Then came the bearer, the men who guarded my door, the coachman, the grooms, the sweeper. For each and all of these I had to write characters, and recommend them to such of my friends as they might encounter by accident or otherwise. It is a fearful infliction, this character writing; but every one is compelled to go through it.
I was now on my road to Agra, to pay a visit to a schoolfellow, who was then in the civil service, and filling an appointment in the station. It was in the month of September that I made the journey – the most unhealthy season of the year. Opposite to the first dâk bungalow, some twelve miles from the station of Cawnpore, I was stopped by a set of twelve palkee bearers, who informed me that a Sahib whom they were taking to Allyghur had been seized with cholera, and was dying in the bungalow. I hastened to the room and there found, stretched upon the couch, a young officer of about nineteen years of age.
His face was ashy pale, and a profuse cold perspiration stood upon his forehead. His hands and feet were like ice, and he was in very great pain. The only person near him was the sweeper, who kept on assuring me that the youth would die. As for the youth himself he was past speech, and I was disposed to think with the sweeper, that he was beyond cure. I administered, however, nearly a teaspoonful of laudanum in a wine-glass half-full of raw brandy, and then took a seat near the patient, in order to witness the effect. Ere long the severe pain was allayed, and the youth fell into a profound sleep, from which, I began to fear, he would never awake. To have administered a smaller dose at that stage of the disease would have been useless, for the body was on the very verge of collapse. Nevertheless, I began to feel the awkwardness of the responsibility which I had taken upon myself. Presently a palanquin carriage, propelled by bearers, came to the bungalow. An elderly lady and gentleman alighted, and were shown into a little room which happened to be vacant [A dâk bungalow has only two little rooms.] To my great joy I discovered that the new arrival was a doctor of a regiment, who, with his wife, was journeying to Calcutta. I was not long in "calling in" the doctor; and I had the satisfaction of hearing him pronounce an opinion that the young ensign was "all right," and that the dose I had administered had been the means of saving his life. How readily, to be sure, do people in India accommodate each other. Although the doctor and his wife were hurrying down the country, and albeit the youth was pronounced out of danger, they remained with me until the following afternoon; when, having dined, we all took our departure together – the youth and I travelling northward, the doctor and his wife in the opposite direction.
The night was pitchy dark; but the glare from the torches rendered every object near to us distinctly visible. The light, shining on the black faces of the palkee bearers, they appeared like so many demons – but very merry demons; for they chatted and laughed incessantly, until I commanded them to be silent, in order that, while we moved along the road, I might listen to the ensign's story, which he told me in the most artless manner imaginable.
"I have only been six weeks in India," he began, "and at present only know a few words of the language. How I came into the Bengal army was this. My father was in the civil service of the Company, in the Madras Presidency; and, after twenty-one years' service, retired on his pension of one thousand pounds a year, and his savings, which amounted to twenty thousand pounds, and which were invested in five per cent. government securities, so that his income was two thousand a year. We lived during the winter near Grosvenor-square: a house of which my father bought the lease for twenty years, and the summer we used to spend at a little place in Berkshire which he had bought. It was only a good sized cottage, and the land about it did not exceed three acres. But it was a perfect gem of a residence, and quite large enough for our family, which consisted of my father and mother, myself, and a sister who is a year and a half older than I am. I was at Harrow. My father intended that I should go to Oxford, and eventually be called to the bar. My sister had a governess, a very clever and accomplished girl, and the most amiable creature that ever lived. We were not an extravagant family, and saw very little company; but we had every comfort that a reasonable heart could desire, and I fancy that we lived up to the two thousand pounds a year. You see the education of myself and my sister was a heavy item. The governess had a hundred pounds a year, and then there was a singing-master and a drawing master. About two years ago my father died, and my mother became almost imbecile from the excess of her grief. She lost her memory; and, for days together, knew not what she was doing. Under my father's will she was entitled to all that he died possessed of, and was appointed his sole executrix. The house in South-street was given up, the unexpired portion of the lease disposed of, and the little place in Berkshire became our only home. My father's pension of course expired when he died, and we, the family, had now to live on the interest of the government securities. My mother, who was as ignorant as a child on all matters of business, was recommended to sell her government securities, and invest the proceeds in a joint-stock bank which was paying, and for more than a year did pay, eight per cent. But, alas, one wretched day the bank failed, and we were reduced suddenly from comparative affluence to poverty. The cottage, furniture, and all that my mother possessed, was seized, and sold. This happened only two years ago. Fortunately for me, my school education was pretty well completed; but of course the idea of my going to Oxford, and subsequently to the bar, was at once abandoned. My sister was obliged to take a situation as governess, in the family of a director of the East India Company: and through that gentleman's influence I obtained an ensigncy in the Native Infantry. The loss of her fortune, the parting with my sister (who is now on the Continent with the director's family) and myself, had such an effect upon my mother, that it was deemed necessary to place her in an asylum; where at all events she will be taken care of and treated with kindness. But I have my plans!" exclaimed the young man, who had just escaped the jaws of death. "In ten years I will save enough to take me home to them; for, if I study hard – and I will do so – I may get a staff appointment, and – "
Here the bearers of my palkee informed me that two other travellers were coming down the road. They saw the light in the distance, more than a mile off, and they – the bearers – began to talk loudly and argue, that it was impossible for me to hear what the ensign was saying, and all attempts to silence them were vain. They were discussing, as they carried us along, whether they would exchange burdens with the down-coming bearers, insomuch as they were nearly midway between the stages. This is very often done by arrangement between them, and thus, in such cases, they get back more speedily to their homes. It was decided that the exchange should take place, if the other party were agreeable; for, on the down-coming travellers nearing us, the bearers of us – the up-going travellers – called a halt. Forthwith the four palkees were gently lowered till they rested on the ground. And now the chattering of the bearers became something awful. A native of Hindostan can settle nothing without a noise; and, as each palkee had twelve men attached to it besides the torch-bearers and those who carried our boxes, the number of voices, whooping, shouting, asserting, contradicting, scolding, and soothing, exceeded sixty. I and my companion, the ensign, shout to them to "go on!" At length I got out of my palkee in a rage, and not only screamed at, but shook several of the black disputants. Whilst thus engaged, the doors of one of the downward palkees were opened, and a voice – that of a lady – thus greeted me, very good humouredly.
"My good sir, depend upon it that you are retarding your own progress, and ours, by attempting, so violently, to accelerate it. Pray let them settle their little affair amongst themselves."
"I believe you are quite right," I replied.
"Have you any idea of the hour?" she asked.
"Yes. It is about a quarter to twelve," said I.
"I have lost the key of my watch; perhaps the key of yours would fit it."
I hastened to my palkee, brought forth from beneath the pillow my watch and chain; and, taking them to the door of the lady's palkee, presented them through the opening.
"Thanks," said the lady, after winding up her watch, "thanks. It does very well," and she returned the watch and chain. I saw, by the light of the torch, not only her hand – which was very small and pretty – but her face, which was more bewitching still, being lovely and young.
"Is there anything else you require?" I asked.
"Nothing. Unless you happen to have with you some fresh bread. My children, who are asleep in the other palkee, are tired of biscuits, and I imagine we shall not reach Cawnpore before mid-day to-morrow."
It happened that I had a loaf in my palkee, and, with all the pleasure of which the heart of man is capable, placed it in the hands of the fair traveller. On this occasion she opened the doors of her palkee sufficiently wide to admit of my having a really good gaze at her beautiful features. She was enveloped in a white dressing-gown, and wore a hood made of black silk, and lined with pink. Her hair was brushed back off the forehead; but the long dark tresses came from behind the ears, and rested on her covered shoulders.
"Are you going to Agra?" she inquired.
"Yes," I replied.
"Perhaps you would be good enough to return two books for me to the wife of the assistant magistrate. They will, no doubt, afford you as much amusement on your journey as they have afforded me. I finished them this afternoon, and they are now an encumbrance." With these words she handed me the volumes, which I faithfully promised to return. By this time the bearers had settled their affair, and were ready to lift the palkees. I bade the fair traveller "good night, and a safe journey." We shook hands.
The reader may ask, "Who was your friend?" I did not know at the time. It was not until I had arrived at Agra that I was informed on this head. The books which she entrusted to my care I had not read; and, after parting with the ensign at the dâk bungalow at Bewah, they were, indeed, most agreeable companions. I have mentioned this little episode in my journey, not because there is anything in it worth recording, or because there is anything romantic therewith connected; but simply to show how readily we (Christians) in India obliged one another, albeit utter strangers, and how gladly we assist each other, whenever and wherever we meet. Such an episode in the journey of a traveller in India is one of its most commonplace incidents.
Since the news of the recent deplorable disasters has reached this country, many persons have expressed their surprise that a lady should be suffered to travel alone with her children, or be accompanied by no more than one female servant. The fact is, or rather was, that, on any dangerous road, a lady utterly unprotected was safer than a gentleman. The sex was actually its own protection. During my stay in India, I knew of at least a score of instances in which officers and civilians were stopped upon the roads, plundered, assaulted, and in one or two cases murdered, in the Upper Provinces; but I can only bring to mind two instances of European ladies having been molested. This is not to be attributed to any ideas of gallantry or chivalry on the part of marauders in the East; but simply to the fact that they knew the perpetrators of an offence committed against a lady would be hunted down to the death, while the sympathies entertained for the sufferings of a Sahib would be only those of an ordinary character, and soon "blow over." Even the palkee-bearers knew the amount of responsibility that attached to them, when they bore away, from station to station, a female burden; and, had the lady traveller been annoyed or interrupted by an European traveller, they would have attacked and beaten him, even to the breaking of his bones and the danger of his life, had he not desisted when commanded by the lady to do so. This has happened more than once in the Upper Provinces of India.
