Wanderings in India, and Other Sketches of Life in Hindostan
Text"Well, sir," said the Deputy-Judge-Advocate-General to the President, when he had finished his writing, "what shall we do? Shall we adjourn the Court until a copy of yesterday's proceedings is made, and given to the prisoners?"
"No doubt," said the President; "that is the only way in which the error can be repaired. But a copy must be delivered to each of them."
"But had we better not take the opinion of the Court on the subject?" suggested the Deputy-Judge-Advocate-General.
"By all means," conceded the President; "but in that case, the Court must be cleared, while the votes are taken."
"Clear the Court!" cried the Adjutant; and out we all marched again, into the mess-room, where more cheroots were smoked, and more weak brandy-and-water imbibed.
The third day came, and the Court re-assembled. The Deputy-Judge-Advocate-General read over the entire proceedings, beginning from the very beginning, the swearing of the members, up to the adjournment of the Court, and the reasons for such adjournment. Here another discussion or conversation ensued, as to whether it was necessary to read more than the last day's proceedings. The Deputy-Judge-Advocate-General said he was quite right. The President thought otherwise. All the other members of the Court spoke on the subject, many of them at the same time. Blade and his adversary also gave their opinions, the former for, and the latter opposed to the view taken by the President. As this was a point that must be cleared up, insomuch as the decision that might be come to would regulate the future proceedings in this respect, the Court was again "cleared," and we again marched into the room where the refreshments were to be had. In half-an-hour's time we were re-admitted. But it was not until the following day (for members are not allowed, in short, they are bound by oath not to divulge what may be decided when the doors are closed), that we learnt the Deputy-Judge-Advocate-General had carried his point, and that a sort of parody of that old nursery story, about "the fire began to burn the stick, the stick began to beat the dog, the dog began to bite the pig," was the proper way to open the proceedings of each day during a protracted trial by general court-martial!
So curiously is human nature constituted, that I, in common with the rest of the audience, began, after the fifth day, to like the business, and to watch its various twistings and turnings with great interest. The mess-house, at which the Court was held, became a favourite lounge for almost everybody in the station; and it was curious to hear the bets that were made with reference to the probable "finding," and the sentence. The trial lasted over thirteen days, inclusive of two Sundays which intervened; and the proceedings were then forwarded to Simlah, where they remained for a fortnight awaiting the decision of the Commander-in-Chief, who, in fulfilment of Blade's prophecy, certainly did put forth "a snorter of a General Order," and as full as it could be of italics, capitals, and notes of exclamation and interrogation. His Excellency "walked into" the President, and recommended him to study some catechism of the Law of Courts Martial, such a book as children might understand. His Excellency further remarked that the Senior Captain (the principal witness), or any man wearing a sword, ought to be ashamed of admitting that he was unable to define the various stages of intoxication; and that he was astounded to find that the Court in general should have paid so little attention to the admirable reasoning, on this point, of a junior member whose intelligence appeared to have enlisted no sympathy. (This had reference to Blade.) His Excellency went on to say, that he had never himself been drunk in the whole course of his long life, and to that fact he attributed his position; that if the Court had done its duty it would have cashiered the prisoners; that a "severe reprimand which the Court awarded was a mockery which stunk in the nostrils," and that the prisoners were to be released from arrest and return to their duty without receiving it. But the Chief did not end here. He went on to say, that he would maintain the discipline of the British army in the East, in all ranks, or else he would know the reason why. And being, I fancy, in some difficulty as to what to use, in the case (whether marks of admiration or interrogation), he emphasized the last word of this culminating and very relevant sentence thus: —
"WHY?!!!"
It was a matter of grave doubt whether the determination, thus expressed, to uphold discipline in the army, was in any way assisted by such general orders as those fired off from the pen of the ardent Commander-in-Chief; the more especially as such general orders were copied into the newspapers, and were read by (or listened to while others were reading aloud,) every non-commissioned officer and private in Upper India, Native and European. Three weeks after the promulgation of the general order just alluded to, a trooper in the dragoons having been talked to seriously by the captain of the troop, for some irregular conduct, thus unburthened himself: —
"You! What do I care for what YOU say? You are one of those infernal fools whom the Commander-in-Chief pitched into the other day for BEING a fool." And as the peroration of this speech consisted of the dashing off of the speaker's cap, and hurling it into the captain's face, the man was tried, convicted, and sentenced to be transported for life.
If it be inquired by the reader whether the above description of a Court Martial in India is a fair specimen of what usually transpires at these tribunals, I reply, emphatically, "Yes;" and I make the assertion after having watched the proceedings of no fewer than eighteen Courts Martial during my sojourn in the East Indies.
Four officers who had obtained six months' leave of absence, and who had rented between them a furnished house at Simlah, were about to proceed there. I was tempted to accompany them. We left Umballah at sunset in palkees, and at seven o'clock on the following morning arrived at the foot of the hills, at a place called Kalka, where there is an hotel. Having breakfasted, we commenced the ascent on ponyback, and in the course of an hour and a half arrived at Kussowlie, where a regiment of her Majesty's Foot was quartered. Here we rested for a brief while, and then pursued our journey. Strange to say, although the climate is superb, and the scenery grand beyond description, the men (so I was told) preferred the plains, regarding them – to use their own words – "less like a prison than the hills." From Kussowlie we pushed on to Sirée, which is about half way between Simlah and Kalka. Here there is a bungalow, at which we dined on the everlasting "grilled fowl," hard-boiled eggs, and unleavened bread. Some friends at Simlah, who had been written to previously, had sent five horses to meet us; so that, when we resumed our journey, we were mounted on fresh cattle. All along the road the scenery is extremely picturesque and beautiful; but, in point of grandeur, it does not, in my opinion, equal that of the Alps.
It was nearly dark when we arrived at our destination and entered the house, where we found everything ready for our reception; the servants had been sent on a day or two in advance of us.
It is a long and fatiguing ride, forty miles in the sun, albeit there is generally a light breeze to modify the heat; and we were all disposed to retire to rest. But we were unable to do so. The gentlemen who had sent the horses to meet us, as soon as they were informed of our arrival, came to see us, and, what was more, to take us to a subscription ball, which was to take place that night at the Assembly Rooms. It was useless to plead weariness. We were compelled to go.
The society of Simlah, though composed of the same elements, differs very much from the society of Mussoorie. The presence of the Commander-in-Chief, or the Governor-General, and sometimes both (as was the case when I was at Simlah), imposes a restraint on the visitors to this sanitarium. The younger men are less disposed to run riot, and incur the risk of having their leave cancelled, and themselves sent down to the plains. A ball, therefore, at Simlah differs from a ball at Mussoorie. It is so much more sedate. More than one half of those who prefer Simlah to Mussoorie, do so in the hope of prepossessing one or other of the Great Authorities, by being brought into contact with them, and thus obtain staff employ or promotion; and very amusing is it to look on at a public entertainment and witness the feelings of jealousy and of envy that swell the breasts of the various candidates for notice and favour. Nor are the little artifices that are resorted to unworthy of observation and a smile. At this ball there was a lady, the wife of a civilian (a sad fool), who had a great facility in taking likenesses, and she had drawn the Governor-General in every possible attitude, both on foot and on horseback. These clever and admirably-executed sketches were laid upon a table in the ball-room, and excited very general admiration; and it was very soon "buzzed about" who was the artist. The wife of another civilian, however, maliciously neutralized the effect these sketches would probably have had, by falsely saying, loud enough for his Lordship to hear, "Ah! she said she would do the trick with her pencil!" The consequence was, that when the lady's husband begged his Lordship would accept this collection of portraits, as well as a few sketches of the house inhabited by the Great Man, his Lordship, – as delicately and as gracefully as the circumstances would admit of, – "declined them with many thanks;" just as though they had been so many unsuitable contributions to some popular periodical. The wife of a military officer, however, was rather more fortunate. She, too, had a great talent for drawing, and had taken an excellent likeness in water colours of the Commander-in-Chief's favourite charger – the charger that had carried the old Chief through his battles; and as the lady begged that the Chief would accept the picture, he did so, and the next Gazette made known that Captain Cloughcough was a Major of Brigade. By the way, this was an excellent appointment, for the office required no sort of ability, and Cloughcough had none; he was, moreover, a most disagreeable person in his regiment, and constantly quarrelling with his brother officers, who were delighted to get rid of him. To chronicle all the seductive little arts which were resorted to on that night, to effect a desired end, would half fill a volume. But I cannot omit the following: it struck me as so extremely ingenious. There was a lady, the wife of a young civilian, who had two very pretty little children – a boy and a girl. Of these children, the Governor-General took great notice, and, whenever he saw their mother, made inquiries touching "the little pets," as he was won't to speak of them. On the night of that ball, his Lordship did so. The lady replied that they were quite well; but that the doctor had said their return to the plains would be fatal to them, and that they must be sent to England.
"Then you had better take the doctor's advice," said the Governor-General.
"But, alas! my Lord," said the lady, "we have not the means. My husband's pay is only 700 rupees a month, and we are, unfortunately, very much in debt."
"That's a bad job," said my Lord.
"Yes," sighed the lady; "it is a very painful reflection – the idea of losing one's little dears. But what is to be done? I dread the coming of the 15th of October, when my husband's leave will expire, more than I dread my own death."
"Could you not remain up here with them through the winter?"
"And be absent from my husband, my Lord? Besides, two establishments on 700 rupees a month!"
"That is true."
"If we could send them to England under the care of some friend, we would do so, before the hot weather sets in. But we cannot afford it. Or if my husband had an appointment in some healthy station, out of the plains, then they might be spared to us. The thought of the beautiful roses on their cheeks just now leaving them, and their dear little faces becoming pale and sallow, and their little limbs shrinking till they are almost skeletons – it makes my very heart bleed!" (And the pretty and ingenious little lady took her kerchief, raised it to her eyes, and suppressed something like one of Mrs. Alfred Mellon's stage sobs, which went, straight as an arrow, to the Governor-General's sensitive heart.) "If," she continued, "my husband were a favourite with the Secretary; but he is not – for he is too independent to crave – then the case would be very different."
"The Secretary!" exclaimed the Governor-General, "what has he to do with it?"
(The lady had aroused his Lordship's sympathy, and now she had touched his pride, and inflamed his vanity.)
"I thought he had all to do with it, my Lord."
"You shall see that he has not," said the Governor-General. "Be comforted, my dear madam, and come to the refreshment room." His Lordship gave her his arm, and led her away from the couch on which they had been conversing.
This "children's dodge," as it was called, was eminently successful. The lady's husband was appointed superintendent of one of the most delightful hill stations in India, on a salary of 1200 rupees (120l.) per mensem.
The ball over, at half-past two in the morning we returned to our house, where I was disgusted to hear that a leopard had carried off out of the verandah a favourite dog of mine. It is no easy matter to keep a dog in Simlah, except in the house. The leopards are always on the look-out for them, and will often carry them off in your very sight, while you are riding or walking along the road.
The great business at Simlah, as at Mussoorie, is devising the means of amusement, or rather of varying the amusements so as to render them less irksome than they would otherwise become. Cards and billiards are the principal pastimes; and, now and then, pic-nic and excursion parties are got up; and, once or twice a month, private theatricals are resorted to. Invitations to dinner-parties and evening-parties are plentiful enough; but to men who go to Simlah without wives and families, and who don't intend to marry in the East, these reunions are a bore rather, after a brief while, and such men prefer dining under their own roofs. There was an hotel at Simlah, kept by a Frenchman, who provided a table d'hôte every day at seven o'clock. This used to be very well attended; for, generally speaking, better fare was to be got there than anywhere else. By the way, the host had once been an officer in the French army, and was rather a touchy man. On one occasion an officer complained of the character of some dish on the table, and was challenged to "fight with either sword or pistol." This challenge was declined; but the officer said he would have no objection to an encounter, provided the weapons were cold legs of mutton.
There is an enormous mountain at Simlah, and around its base there is a good macadamized road, some fifteen feet wide. This is the favourite ride of the visitors, and every fine afternoon some sixty gentlemen, and nearly as many ladies, may be seen upon it taking the fresh air.
Simlah is a much more expensive place to spend the summer at than Mussoorie, in consequence of its great distance from the plains, whence almost every article of food and all descriptions of "stores" are carried on men's shoulders. The mutton of the hill sheep is not equal to Welsh mutton; but when properly kept and dressed, it is very good eating. The hill cattle also afford tolerable beef; but the joints are very small. House-rent at Simlah is also much dearer. The furnished abode, for which we paid 100l. for the season, we could have got at Mussoorie for 60l. The same may be said of articles of clothing and of merchandize. The majority of the European shopkeepers (there were only five or six) appeared to be doing a good business; but I question whether they made money. They have to give, in most cases, very long credit, pay high rates of interest to the banks for money, and high rents for the extensive premises they are obliged to occupy, to say nothing of having to live as all English people must live in India. The hotel did not pay the proprietor, notwithstanding his house was generally full of people, and his charges were seemingly exorbitant.
There was no club at Simlah when I was there; but, since then, one was established. Its existence, however, was very brief. The fact is, people in India very soon grow tired of a thing; and, what is even worse, you will find that when a large number of persons, who have really nothing to do but amuse themselves, very frequently meet, they wrangle, quarrel, split into small coteries, and become on very bad terms with each other. How the old Himalaya Club at Mussoorie has existed so long, is miraculous. A club in India is not like a club in England, where scores of the members are unknown to each other, even by name, and possibly do not meet more than once in a month.
Some of the views at Simlah are magnificent; and from several points may be seen, in the far distance, the river Sutlej, stealing its way through the mountains. The water has the appearance, when the sun is shining upon it, of a narrow stream of quicksilver. Some of the hills are literally covered with rhododendron trees, fifty or sixty feet high, and when they are all in full bloom the effect may be easily imagined.
To Jutsy, some five or six miles from Simlah, and where one of the Goorkha battalions was always stationed, I have already alluded. There are but two or three bungalows there, and they are occupied by the officers of the battalion.
The season that I spent at Simlah was a very pleasant one, and notwithstanding it was enlivened by several exciting incidents – to wit, a duel, a police affair, a court martial, and an elopement, – I was very glad when it was over, and we could return to the plains.
TANTIA TOPEE
When I visited the Nena Sahib, I saw this miscreant, who has since so distinguished himself as a soldier and a general, and has recently been captured and hanged. He was not called Tantia Topee at Bhithoor, but "Bennie," simply. He was not a servant exactly – at all events not a menial servant; but one of those numerous "hangers-on" of Nena Sahib who repaid by flattery the favours they received in the shape of board, lodging, and presents. The name of "Tantia Topee," so a native gentleman in India informs me, was an assumed one; and I will, therefore, speak of the hero as "Bennie," whom I remember sufficiently well to describe him. I had not the least idea when I gave him a general letter of recommendation, that he would fill so many pages of Indian history, and give brigades and divisions of British troops such trouble and vexation before they succeeded in catching him.
Bennie was not more than thirty, and at the time of his execution his age could not have exceeded forty years. I question even if he were so old as that, though he may have looked older. He was a man of about the middle height – say five feet eight – rather slightly made, but very erect. He was far from good-looking. The forehead was low, the nose rather broad at the nostrils, and his teeth irregular and discoloured. His eyes were expressive and full of cunning, like those of most Asiatics; but he did not strike me as a man of eminent ability. There were a few men amongst Nena Sahib's flatterers who were really clever men, but they were not Mahrattas; and my impression is that Bennie was not a Mahratta, but a member of some obscure family in the Upper Provinces of India, under British rule. Like the rest of the tribe of flatterers who surrounded Nena Sahib, Bennie was obsequious and cringing to every European who visited Bhithoor. This demeanour, of course, was not the offspring of respect, but prompted rather by the impression that it might tend to some advantage.
There are many persons in India, natives especially, who are of opinion that Nena Sahib did not dictate the atrocities that were committed at Cawnpore; but that they were committed by order of the various adventurers, such as Bennie, who became powerful the moment that Nena Sahib consented to rebel and raise his standard. Asiatics are frequently placed in the awkward position of being responsible for the acts of their retainers – acts that they not only do not sanction, but forbid. This was the case with Moolraj, the Governor of Mooltan. From the first, and to the day of his death, he declared (and his declaration was supported by the very strongest circumstantial evidence) that so far from giving an order to his turbulent soldiery to kill or attack Messrs. Vans Agnew and Anderson, he did all in his power to shield them from harm. Indeed the verdict of the camp which condemned him, rather inconsistently, brought in a verdict of "Guilty; but a victim of circumstances."
That Nena Sahib well deserves the fate that is in store for him, whenever he is captured, there can be no species of doubt; but, in the absence of some proof, I should be sorry – especially after the letters I have read on the subject – to attribute to the man that fiendish treachery and horrible massacre which took place at Cawnpore in July, 1857. Nena Sahib had seen so much of English gentlemen and ladies, and was personally (if not intimately) acquainted with so many of the sufferers that it is only fair to suppose, when he ordered boats to be got ready, he was sincere in his desire that the Christians should find their way to Calcutta, and that what ensued was in violation of his orders, and the act of those who wished to place for ever between Nena Sahib and the British Government an impassable barrier, so far as peace and reconciliation were concerned. No one knew better than Nena Sahib that, in the event of the British becoming again the conquerors of India, the very fact of his having spared the lives of those who surrendered, would have led to the sparing of his own life, and hence the promise he made to Sir Hugh Wheeler. One friend (a gentleman of great experience) writing from India on this subject, says: —
"In my opinion it was the Mahommedan soldiery who insisted on that awful measure. Having so many helpless Christians in their absolute power, they could not resist the temptation of sacrificing them, for their faith's sake."
It is to be regretted that previous to hanging "Tantia Topee," some statement was not extracted from him touching what took place at Cawnpore. Of course, it could not have been relied upon per se, but, as evidence, confirmatory or contradictory, of other statements made by other miscreants, who may yet fall into our power, it would not have been entirely valueless. I do not mean to say that the culprit should have been allured to confess by any promise, or insinuation, that his life would be spared if he spoke the truth. That is, I would not have breathed the word of promise to his ear, and then have broken it to the hope; nor would I have subjected him to any corporeal torture. Nevertheless, I would have had "out of him" something like "the truth" – if not "the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," and so would Sir John Lawrence, or Mr. Wingfield, now at Lucknow, or Mr. Dampier, or Major Elwall, and a score of ex-Thuggee officers now living. It is a sad mistake to hang this sort of people in a hurry; or, for the matter of that, to hang them at all. They have not that dread of death that Europeans have, but almost invariably meet their fate without exhibiting the faintest fear. There are punishments which, to their minds, are far more terrible. They are not as "cowards who die a thousand deaths in dreading one which must come at last." They are rather cowards who die a thousand deaths in dreading one life which they long to end. I was never more impressed with the truth of this than when, with the permission of Lord Dalhousie, I had an interview with Moolraj in his cell at Lahore; he was then under the charge of Dr. (now Sir John) Logie, who is "in attendance" on the Maharajah Dulleep Singh. The constant cry of the wretched captive was, "Ah, let them take my life by one blow; but not draw it out of me by slow degrees!" As far as I can recollect, it was not then decided whether his life should be spared or not.
I would treat culprits like Tantia Topee, Nena Sahib, Bahadoor Khan, the Nawab of Bandah, &c., much in the same way as the convicts of Norfolk Island were treated in former days – make death the first favour for which they should crave, and the last which should be granted unto them; but with this difference, that if they murdered each other, the hope of ending their days for the deed should be a vain one. To hang such men is to frustrate the end and real object of all punishment, which is to deter others from the commission of the same offence. When such men are exterminated they are speedily forgotten, and their end is not regarded as an example for the prevention of evil; but so long as they are living, and suffering what to them is far worse than death, the case is otherwise. Be it known, however, that I am not an advocate for the abolition of capital punishment in this country for the crime of murder. The gallows, judiciously used, is, in my humble judgment, a very wholesome terror.