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'I told my old friend that I thought his answer the best that could be given; but still, that we could not help thinking that if Muhammad had really been acquainted with the nature of the heavenly bodies, and the laws which govern them, he would have taken advantage of his knowledge to secure more firmly their faith in his mission, and have explained to them the real state of the case, instead of talking about the stars as merely made to be thrown at devils, to give light to men upon this little globe of ours, and to guide them in their wanderings upon it by sea and land.
'But what', said the Nawab, 'are the great truths that you would have had our holy prophet to teach mankind?'
'Why, Nawab Sahib, I would have had him tell us, amongst other things, of that law which makes this our globe and the other planets revolve round the sun, and their moons around them. I would have had him teach us something of the nature of the things we call comets, or stars with large tails, and of that of the fixed stars, which we suppose to be suns, like our sun, with planets revolving round them like ours, since it is clear that they do not borrow their light from our sun, nor from anything that we can discover in the heavens. I would also have had him tell us the nature of that white belt which crosses the sky, which you call the ovarious belt, "Khatt-i-abyaz", and we the milky-way, and which we consider to be a collection of self-lighted stars, while many orthodox but unlettered Musalmans think it the marks made in the sky by "Borak", the rough-shod donkey, on which your prophet rode from Jerusalem to heaven. And you think, Nawab Sahib, that there was quite evidence enough to satisfy any person whose heart had not been hardened to unbelief? and that no description of the heavenly bodies, or of the laws which govern their motion, could have had any influence on the minds of such people? '[65]
'Assuredly I do, sir! Has not God said, "If we should open a gate in the heavens above them, and they should ascend thereto all the day long, they would surely say, our eyes are only dazzled, or rather we are a people deluded by enchantments."[66] Do you think, sir, that anything which his majesty Moses could have said about the planets, and the comets, and the milky way, would have tended so much to persuade the children of Israel of his divine mission as did the single stroke of his rod, which brought a river of delicious water gushing from a dry rock when they were all dying from thirst? When our holy prophet', continued the Nawab (placing the points of the four fingers of his right hand on the table), 'placed his blessed hand thus on the ground, and caused four streams to gush out from the dug plain, and supply with fresh water the whole army which was perishing from thirst; and when out of only five small dates he afterwards feasted this immense army till they could eat no more, he surely did more to convince his followers of his divine mission than he could have done by any discourse about the planets, and the milky way (Khatt-i-abyaz).'
'No doubt, Nawab Sahib, these were very powerful arguments for those who saw them, or believed them to have been seen; and those who doubt the divinity of your prophets mission are those who doubt their ever having been seen.'
'The whole army saw and attested them, sir, and that is evidence enough for us; and those who saw them, and were not satisfied, must have had their hearts hardened to unbelief.'
'And you think, Nawab Sahib, that a man is not master of his own belief or disbelief in religions matters; though he is rewarded by an eternity of bliss in paradise for the one, and punished by an eternity of scorching in hell for the other?
'I do, sir, faith is a matter of feeling; and over our feelings we have no control. All that we can do is to prevent their influencing our actions, when these actions would be mischievous. I have a desire to stretch out this arm, and crush that fly on the table, I can control the act, and do so; but the desire is not under my control.'
'True, Nawab Sahib; and in this life we punish men not for their feelings, which are beyond their control, but for their acts, over which they have no control; and we are apt to think that the Deity will do the same.'
'There are, sir,' continued the Nawab, 'three kinds of certainty—the moral certainty, the mathematical, and the religious certainty, which we hold to be the greatest of all—the one in which the mind feels entire repose. This repose I feel in everything that is written in the Koran, in the Bible, and, with the few known exceptions, in the New Testament.[67] We do not believe that Christ was the son of God, though we believe him to have been a great prophet sent down to enlighten mankind; nor do we believe that he was crucified. We believe that the wicked Jews got hold of a thief, and crucified him in the belief that he was the Christ; but the real Christ was, we think, taken up into heaven, and not suffered to be crucified.'
'But, Nawab Sahib, the Sikhs have their book, in which they have the same faith.'
'True, sir, but the Sikhs are unlettered, ignorant brutes; and you do not, I hope, call their "Granth" a book—a thing written only the other day, and full of nonsense. No "book" has appeared since the Koran came down from heaven; nor will any other come till the day of judgement. And how', said the Nawab, 'have people in modern days made all the discoveries you speak of in astronomy?'
'Chiefly, Nawab Sahib, by means of the telescope, which is an instrument of modern invention.'
'And do you suppose, sir, that I would put the evidence of your "durbins" (telescopes) in opposition to that of the holy prophet? No, sir, depend upon it that there is much fallacy in a telescope—it is not to be relied upon. I have conversed with many excellent European gentlemen, and their great fault appears to me to be in the implicit faith they put in these telescopes—they hold their evidence above that of the prophets, Moses, Abraham, and Elijah. It is dreadful to think how much mischief these telescopes may do. No, sir, let us hold fast by the prophets; what they tell us is the truth, and the only truth that we can entirely rely upon in this life. I would not hold the evidence of all the telescopes in the world as anything against one word uttered by the humblest of the prophets named in the Old or New Testament, or the holy Koran. The prophets, sir, keep to the prophets, and throw aside your telescopes—there is no truth in them; some of them turn people upside down, and make them walk upon their heads; and yet you put their evidence against that of the prophets.'[68]
Nothing that I could say would, after this, convince the Nawab that there was any virtue in telescopes; his religions feeling had been greatly excited against them; and had Galileo, Tycho Brahe, Kepler, Newton, Laplace, and the Herschels, all been present to defend them, they would not have altered his opinion of their demerits. The old man has, I believe, a shrewd suspicion that they are inventions of the devil to lead men from the right way; and were he told all that these great men have discovered through their means, he would be very much disposed to believe that they were incarnations of his satanic majesty playing over again with 'durbins' (telescopes) the same game which the serpent played with the apple in the garden of Eden.
Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid; Leave them to God above: him serve and fear; Of other creatures, as him pleases best, Wherever placed, let him dispose: joy thou In what he gives to thee, this Paradise And thy fair Eve: heaven is for thee too high To know what passes there: be lowly wise: Think only what concerns thee, and thy being: Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there Live, in what state, condition, or degree: Contented that thus far hath been revealed, Not of earth only, but of highest heaven.'[69]
Notes:
1. Chapter 75 post is devoted to the history of the Begam Samru (Sumroo). The 'great street' is the celebrated Chandni Chauk, a very wide thoroughfare. The branch of the canal which runs down the middle of it is now covered over. The Begam's house is now occupied by the Delhi Bank (Fanshawe, p, 49).
2. Ante, chapter 54, note 14.
3. The Emperors were not in the least ashamed of this practice, and robbed the families of rich merchants as well as those of officials. In fact they levied in a rough way the high 'death duties' so much admired by Radicals with small expectations. Some remarkable cases are related in detail by Bernier (Bernier, Travels, ed. Constable, and V. A. Smith (1914), pp. 163-7). When Aurangzeb heard of the death of the Governor of Kabul, he gave orders to seize the belongings of the deceased, so that 'not even a piece of straw be left' (Bilimoria, Letters of Aurungzebe, No. xcix).
4. The meaning of this sentence is obscure.
5. Corresponding to A.D. 1753-4. In the original edition the date is misprinted A.D. 1167.
6. The tomb of Mansur Ali Khan is better known as that of Safdar Jang, which was the honorary title of the noble over whom the edifice was raised. He was the wazir, or chief minister, of the Emperor Ahmad Shah from 1748 to 1752, and was practically King of Oudh, where he had succeeded to the power of his father-in-law, the well-known Saadat Khan: Safdar Jang died in A.D. 1754 and was succeeded in Oudh by his son Shuja-ud-daula.
The author's praise of the beauty of Safdar Jang's tomb will seem extravagant to most critics. In the editor's judgement the building is a very poor attempt to imitate the inimitable Taj. Fergusson (ed. 1910, vol. ii, p. 324, pl. xxxiv) gives it the qualified praise that 'it looks grand and imposing at a distance, but it will not bear close inspection'. See Fanshawe, p. 246 and plate. In the original edition a coloured plate of this mausoleum is given.
7. Nizam-ud-din was the disciple of Farid-ud-din Ganj Shakar, so called from his look being sufficient to convert cods of earth into lumps of sugar. Farid was the disciple of Kutb-ud-din of Old Delhi, who was the disciple of Muin-ud-din of Ajmer, the greatest of all their saints. [W. H. S.] Muin-ud-din died A.D. 1236. For further particulars of the three saints see Beale, Oriental Biographical Dictionary, ed. Keene, 1894. Dr. Horn (Ep. Ind. ii, 145 n., 426 n.) gives information about the Persian biographies of Nizam-ud-din and other Chishti saints.
8. For the personal history of Nizam-ud-din see the last preceding chapter, [13]. His tomb is situated in a kind of cemetery, which also contains the tombs of the poet Khusru, the Princess Jahanara, and the Emperor Muhammad Shah, which will be noticed presently. Fanshawe (p. 236) gives a plan of the enclosure. Nizam-ud-din's tomb 'has a very graceful appearance, and is surrounded by a verandah of white marble, while a cut screen encloses the sarcophagus, which is always covered with a cloth. Round the gravestone runs a carved wooden guard, and from the four corners rise stone pillars draped with cloth, which support an angular wooden frame-work, and which has something the appearance of a canopy to a bed. Below this wooden canopy there is stretched a cloth of green and red, much the worse for wear. The interior of the tomb is covered with painted figures in Arabic, and at the head of the grave is a stand with a Koran. The marble screen is very richly cut, and the roof of the arcade-like verandah is finely painted in a flower pattern. Altogether there is a quaint look about the building which cannot fail to strike any one. A good deal of money has at various times been spent on this tomb; the dome was added to the roof in Akbar's time by Muhammad Imam-ud-din Hasan, and in the reign of Shah Jahan (A.D. 1628 [sic., leg. 1627]-58) the whole building was put into thorough repair. . . . The tomb is in the village of Ghyaspur, and is reached after passing through the 'Chaunsath Khambha'. (Harcourt, The New Guide to Delhi (1866), p. 107.)
In the original edition a small coloured illustration of this tomb, from a miniature, is given on Plate 24. Carr Stephen (pp. 102-7) gives a good and full account of Nizam-ud-din and his tomb.
9. According to Harcourt (p. 108), the tomb of Khusru was erected about A.D. 1350, but this is a misprint for 1530. The poet, whose proper name was Abul Hasan, is often called Amir Khusru, and was of Turkish origin. He was born A.D. 1253, and died in September, 1325. His works are numerous. (Beale.) The grave, and wooden railing round it, were built in A.H. 937 (A.D. 1530-1). . . . The present tomb was built in A.H. 1014 (A.D. 1605-6) by Imad-ud-din Hasan, in the reign of Jahangir, and this date occurs in an inscription under the dome and over the red sandstone screens. (Carr Stephen, p. 115.) In the original edition a small coloured illustration of this tomb, from a miniature, is given on Plate 24. See Fanshawe, p. 241.
10. Akbar II, who died in 1837.
11. When the author was with his regiment, after the close of the Nepalese war.
12. Harcourt (p. 109) truly observes that this tomb 'is a most exquisite piece of workmanship. The tomb itself, raised some few feet from the ground, is entered by steps, and is enclosed in a beautiful cut marble screen, the sarcophagus being covered with a very artistic representation of leaves and flowers carved in marble. Mirza Jahangir was the son of Akbar II, and the tomb was built in A.D. 1832 '.
'He was, in consequence of having fired a pistol at Mr. Seton, the Resident at Delhi, sent as a State prisoner to Allahabad, where he resided in the garden of Sultan Khusro for several years, and died there in A.D. 1821 (A.H. 1236), aged thirty-one years; a salute of thirty-one guns was fired from the ramparts of the fort of Allahabad at the time of his burial. He was at first interred in the same garden, and subsequently his remains were transferred to Delhi, and buried in the courtyard of the mausoleum of Nizam-ud-din Aulia.' (Beale, Dictionary.) The young man's 'overt act of rebellion' occurred in 1808, and his body was removed to Delhi in 1832. The form of the monument is that ordinarily used for a woman, 'but it was put over the remains of the Prince on a dispensation being granted for the purpose by Muhammadan lawyers'. (Carr Stephen, p. 111.)
13. Muhammad Shah reigned feebly from September, 1719, to April, 1748. 'He is the last of the Mughals who enjoyed even the semblance of power, and has been called "the seal of the house of Babar", for "after his demise everything went to wreck".' (Lane-Poole, p. xxxviii.) Nadir Shah occupied Delhi in 1738, and is said to have massacred 120,000 people. The tomb is described by Carr Stephen, p. 110.
14. Jahanara Begam, or the Begam Sahib, was the elder daughter of Shahjahan, a very able intriguer, the partisan of Dara Shikoh and the opponent of Aurangzeb during the struggle for the throne. She was closely confined in Agra till her father's death in 1666. After that event she was removed to Delhi, where she died in 1682. (Tavernier, Travels, transl. Ball, vol. i, p. 345.) She built the Begam Sarai at Delhi. Her amours, real or supposed, furnished Bernier with some scandalous and sensational stories. (Bernier, Travels, transl. Constable, and V. A. Smith (1914), pp. 11-14.) Some writers credit her with all the virtues, e.g., Beale in his Oriental Biographical Dictionary. The author has omitted the last line of the inscription- 'May God illuminate his intentions. In the year 1093 ', corresponding to A.D. 1682. The first line is, 'Let nothing but the green [grass] conceal my grave.' (Carr Stephen, p. 109.)
15. The tomb of Humayun was erected by the Emperor's widow, Haji Begam, or Bega Begam, not by Akbar. She was the senior widow of Humayun, entitled Haji or 'pilgrim ', because she performed the pilgrimage to Mecca. Carr Stephen and other writers confound her with Hamida Banu Begam, the mother of Akbar. For her true history see Beveridge, The History of Humayun by Gulbadan Begam (R.A.S., 1902). Carr Stephen (p. 203) says that the mausoleum was completed in A.D. 1565, or, according to some, in A.D. 1569, at a coat of fifteen lakhs of rupees. The true date is A.D. 1570, late in A.H. 977 (Baduoui, tr. Lowe, ii. 135). It is of special interest as being one of the earliest specimens of the architecture of the Moghal dynasty, The massive dome of white marble is a landmark for many miles round. The body of the building is of red sandstone with marble decorations. It stands on two noble terraces. Humayun rests in the central hall under an elaborately carved marble sarcophagus. The head of Dara Shikoh and the bodies of many members of the royal family are interred in the side rooms. After the fall of Delhi in September, 1857, the rebel princes took refuge in this mausoleum. The story of their execution by Hodson on the road to Delhi is well known, and has been the occasion of much controversy.
In the original edition a small coloured illustration of this tomb, from a miniature, is given on Plate 24. See Fergusson, ed. 1910, pl. xxxiii; H.F.A., fig. 240; Fanshawe, p. 230 and plate.
16. The tragic history of Dara Shikoh, the elder brother, and unsuccessful rival, of Aurangzeb, is fully given by Bernier. The notes in Constable's edition of that traveller's work and those to Irvine's Storia do Mogor (John Murray, 1907, 1908) give many additional particulars. Dara Shikoh was executed by Aurangzeb in 1659, and it is alleged that with a horrid refinement of cruelty, the emperor, acting on the advice of his sister, Roshanara Begam, caused the head to be embalmed and sent packed in a box as a present to the old ex-emperor, Shah Jahan, the father of the three, in his prison at Agra. The prince died invoking the aid of Jesus, and was favourably disposed towards Christianity. He was also attracted by the doctrines of Sufism, or heretical Muhammadan mysticism, and by those of the Hindoo Upanishads. In fact, his religions attitude seems to have much resembled that of his great-grandfather Akbar. The 'Broad Church' principles and practice of Akbar failed to leave any permanent mark on Muhammadan institutions or the education of the people, and if Dara Shikoh had been victorious in the contest for the throne, it is not probable that he would have been able to effect lasting reforms which were beyond the power of his illustrious ancestor. The name of the unfortunate prince was Dara Shikoh ('in splendour like Darius'), not merely Dara (Darius), as Bernier has it.
17. The 'great diamond' alluded to is the Kohinur, presented by the 'Persian adventurer', Amir Jumla, to Shah Jahan, who was advised to attack and conquer the country which produced such gems, (Ante, Chapter 48.) The decisive battle between Dara Shikoh, on the one aide, and Aurangzeb, supported by his brother and dupe, Murad Baksh, on the other, was fought on the 28th May, 1658 [O. S.], at the small village of Samugarh (Samogar), four miles from Agra. Dara Shikoh was winning the battle, when a traitor persuaded him to come down from his conspicuous seat on an elephant and mount a horse. The report quickly spread that the prince had been killed. 'In a few minutes', says Bernier, 'the army seemed disbanded, and (strange and sudden reverse!) the conqueror became the vanquished. Aurangzeb remained during a quarter of an hour steadily on his elephant, and was rewarded with the crown of Hindustan; Dara left his own elephant a few minutes too soon, and was hurled from the pinnacle of glory, to be numbered among the most miserable of Princes; so short-sighted is man, and so mighty are the consequences which sometimes flow from the most trivial incident.'
According to another account the prince's change from the elephant to the horse was due to want of personal courage, and not to treacherous advice. (Bernier, Travels, ed. Constable, and V. A. Smith (1914), p. 54.)
18. Battle fought between Tours and Poitiers, A.D. 732.
19. The principal mosque of every town is known as the Jami Masjid, and is filled by large congregations on Fridays. The great mosque of Delhi stands on a natural rocky eminence, completely covered by the building, and approached on three sides by magnificent flights of steps, which give it peculiar dignity. It is, perhaps, the finest mosque in the world, and certainly has few rivals. It differs from most mosques in that its exterior is more magnificent than its interior. The two minarets are each about 130 feet high. The year A.H. 1060 corresponds to A.D. 1650. The mosque was begun in that year, and finished six years later. It is close to the palace, and seems to have been designed to serve as the mosque for the palace, as well as the city, for which reason no place of worship was included in his residence by Shah Jahan. The pretty little Moti Masjid in the private apartments was added by Aurangzeb. Fergusson (ed. 1910, vol. ii, p. 319) gives a view of the mosque. Carr Stephen (pp. 260-6) gives approximate measurements, translations of the inscriptions, and many details. See Fanshawe, pp. 44-8 and plates.
20. Since the Mutiny multitudes of houses between the palace and the mosque have been cleared away.
21. 'Entering within its deeply recessed portal, you find yourself beneath the vaulted hall, the sides of which are in two stories, and with an octagonal break in the centre. This hall, which is 375 feet in length over all, has very much the effect of the nave of a gigantic Gothic cathedral, and forms the noblest entrance known to belong to any existing palace' (Fergusson, ed. 1910, vol. ii, p. 309). This is the Lahore Gate.
22. What recked the Chieftain if he stood On Highland heath, or Holy-rood? He rights such wrong where it is given, If it were in the court of heaven.' —(Scott, Lady of the Lake, Canto V, stanza 6).
23. The foundation-stone of the palace was laid on the 12th of May, 1639 (N.S.—9 Muharrum, A.H. 1049). (E. & D., vii, p. 86), and the work continued for nine years, three months, and some days. Nadir Shah's invasion took place in 1738. Kashmir was annexed by Akbar in 1587. Kabul had been more or less closely united with the empire since Babur's time.
24. 'In front, at the entrance, was the Naubat Khana, or music hall, beneath which the visitor entered the second or great court of the palace, measuring 550 feet north and south, by 385 feet east and west. In the centre of this stood the Diwan-i-Amm, or great audience hall of the palace, very similar in design to that at Agra, but more magnificent. Its dimensions are about 200 feet by 100 feet over all. In its centre is a highly ornamental niche, in which on a platform of marble richly inlaid with previous stones, and directly facing the entrance, once stood the celebrated peacock throne, the most gorgeous example of its class that perhaps even the East could ever boast of. Behind this again was a garden-court; on its eastern side was the Rang Mahall, or painted hall, containing a bath and other apartments' (Fergusson, ed. 1910, vol. ii, p. 310).
The inlaid pictures were carried off, sold by the spoiler to Government, set as table-tops, and deposited in the Indian Section of the Victoria and Albert Museum at South Kensington (Hist. of Ind. and E. Archit., ed. 1910, vol. ii, p. 311, note); but in November, 1902, the Orpheus mosaic, along with several other inlaid panels, was returned to Delhi, where the panels were reset in due course. The representation of Orpheus is 'a bad copy from Raphael's picture of Orpheus charming the beasts'. Austin de Bordeaux has been already noticed. Many of the mosaics in the panels which had not been disturbed were renewed by Signor Menegatti of Florence during the years 1906-9.
The peacock throne and the six other thrones in the palace are fully described by Tavernier. (Transl. and ed. by V. Ball, vol. i, pp. 381- 7.) Further details will be found in Carr Stephen, Archaeology of Delhi, pp. 220-7.
25. The throne here referred to was a makeshift arrangement used by the later emperors. Nadir Shah in 1738 cleared the palace of the peacock throne and almost everything portable of value. The little that was left the Marathas took. Their chief prize was the silver filagree ceiling of the Diwan-i-Khas. This hall was, 'if not the most beautiful, certainly the most highly ornamented of all Shah Jahan's buildings. It is larger certainly, and far richer in ornament than that of Agra, though hardly so elegant in design; but nothing can exceed the beauty of the inlay of precious stones with which it is adored, or the general poetry of the design, It is round the roof of this hall that the famous inscription runs: "If there is a heaven on earth, it is this, it is this ", which may safely be rendered into the sober English assertion that no palace now existing in the world possesses an apartment of such singular elegance as this' (Fergusson, ed. 1910, vol. ii, p. 311).
26. All the events alluded to are related in detail by Bernier and Manucci. Sulaiman and Sipihr Shikoh were the sons of Dara Shikoh. The author makes a slip in saying that Shah Jahan sat in the palace at Delhi to negotiate with his grandson. During that negotiation Shah Jahan was at Agra.
27. It is related that the coffee was delivered to the two sovereigns in this room upon a gold salver by the most polished gentleman of the court. His motions, as he entered the gorgeous apartment, amidst the splendid train of the two Emperors, were watched with great anxiety; if he presented the coffee first to his own master, the furious conqueror, before whom the sovereign of India and all his courtiers trembled, might order him to instant execution; if he presented it to Nadir first, he would insult his own sovereign out of fear of the stranger. To the astonishment of all, he walked up with a steady step direct to his own master. 'I cannot', said he, 'aspire to the honour of presenting the cup to the king of kings, your majesty's honoured guest, nor would your majesty wish that any hand but your own should do so.' The Emperor took the cup from the golden salver, and presented it to Nadir Shah, who said with a smile as he took it, 'Had all your officers known and done their duty like this man, you had never, my good cousin, seen me and my Kizil Bashis at Delhi; take care of him for your own sake, and get round you as many like him as you can.' [W. H. S.]
28. The famous inscription of Saad-Ullah Khan, supposed to be in the handwriting of Rashid, the greatest caligraphist of his time; Agar Firdaus bar rue zamin ast—hamin ast, to hamin ast, to hamin ast' (Carr Stephen, p. 229; Fanshawe, p. 35 and plate).
29. All these people were cleared out by the events of 1867, and the few beautiful fragments of the palace which have retained anything of their original magnificence are now clean and in good order. The elaborate decorations of the Diwan-i-Khas have been partially restored, and the interior of this building is still extremely rich and elegant.
'Of the public parts of the palace all that now remains is the entrance hall, the Naubat Khana, Diwan-i-Amm and Khas, and the Rang Mahall—now used as a mess-room, and one or two small pavilions. They are the gems of the palace it is true, but without the courts and corridors connecting them they lose all their meaning and more than half their beauty. Being now situated in the middle of a British barrack-yard, they look like precious stones torn from their settings in some exquisite piece of Oriental jeweller's work and set at random in a bed of the commonest plaster' (Fergusson, ed. 1910, vol. ii, p. 312). Since Fergusson wrote an immense amount of work has been done in restoration and conservation, but it is difficult to obtain a general view of the result.
The books about Delhi are even more tantalising and unsatisfactory than those which deal with Agra. Mr. Beglar's contribution to Vol. IV of the Archaeological Survey Reports is a little, but very little, better than Mr. Carlleyle's disquisition on Agra in that volume. Sir A. Cunningham's observations in the first and twentieth volumes of the same series are of greater value, but are fragmentary and imperfect, and scarcely notice at all the city of Shahjahan. Fergusson's criticisms, so far as they go, are of permanent importance, though the scheme of his work did not allow him to treat in detail of any particular section. Guide-books by Beresford Cooper, Harcourt, and Keene, of which Keene's is the latest, and, consequently, in some respects the best, are all extremely unsatisfactory. Mr. H. C. Fanshawe's Delhi Past and Present (John Murray, 1902), a large, handsome work something between a guide-book and a learned treatise, is not quite satisfying. The late Mr. Carr Stephen, a resident of Delhi, wrote a valuable book on the Archaeology of the city, but it has no illustrations, except a few plans on a small scale. (8vo, Ludhiana, 1876.) A good critical, comprehensive, well illustrated description of the remains of the cities, said to number thirteen, all grouped together by European writers under the name of Delhi, does not exist, and it seems unlikely that the Panjab Government will cause the blank to be filled. No Government in India has such opportunities, or has done so little, to elucidate the history of the country, as the Government of the Panjab. But it has shown greater interest in the matter of late. The reorganized Archaeological Survey of India, under the capable guidance of Sir J. H. Marshall, C.I.E., has not yet had time to do much at Delhi beyond the work of conservation. A fourteenth Delhi is now being built (1914).
30. Ante, chapter 53, [19].
31. These epistolary formulas mean no more than the similar official phrases in English, 'Your most obedient humble servant', and the like. The 'fortunate occurrence' of the Mutiny—for such it was, in spite of all the blood and suffering—cut out many plague-spots from the body politic of India. Among these the reeking palace swarm of Delhi was not the least malignant.
32. Azrail is the angel of death, whose duty it is to separate the souls from the bodies of men. Israfil is entrusted with the task of blowing the last trump.
33. The resurrection, and the signs foretelling it, are described in the Mishkat-ul-Masabih, book xxiii, chapters 3 to 11. (Matthews, vol. ii, pp. 556-620.)
34. The Hindoo 'ages' are (1) Krita, or Satya, (2) Treta, (3) Dwapara, (4) Kali, the present evil age. The long periods assigned to these are merely the result of the calculations of astronomers, who preferred integral to fractional numbers.
35. This kind of education does not now pay, and is, consequently, going out of fashion. The Muhammadans are slowly, and rather unwillingly, yielding to the pressure of necessity and beginning to accept English education.
36. Imam Muhammad Ghazzali, who is also entitled Hujjat-ul-Islam, is the surname of Abu Hamid Muhammad Zain-ud-din Tusi, one of the greatest and most celebrated Musalman doctors, who was born A.D. 1058, and died A.D. 1111. (Beale, s.v. 'Ghazzali'.) The length of these Muhammadan names is terrible. They are much mangled in the original edition. See ante, chapter 53, note 10, and Blochmann (Ain) pp. 103, 182.
37. Khwaja Nasir-ud-din Tusi, the famous philosopher and astronomer, the most universal scholar that Persia ever produced. Born A.D. 1201, died A.D. 1274. (Beale.) See ante, loc. cit.
38. Especially the Bustan and Gulistan. Beale gives a list of Sadi's works. See ante, chapter 12, note 6.
39. This is a very cynical and inadequate explanation of the prevalence of Conservative opinions among Englishmen in the East.
40. Ante, chapter 30, [6].
41. In the original edition the portrait of Akbar II is twice given, namely, in the frontispiece of Volume I as a full-page plate, and again as a miniature, dated 1836, in the frontispiece of Volume II.
42. The most secluded native prince of the present day could not be guilty of this absurdity.
43. Babur was sixth in descent from Timur, not seventh. Babur's grandfather, Abu Sayyid, was great-grandson of Timur. Babur, not Babar, is the correct spelling.
44. This may be an exaggeration. The undoubted facts are sufficiently horrible.
45. Timur was a man of surpassing ability, and knew much 'else'. See Malcolm, History of Persia, ed. 1859, chapter 11.
46. Timur's 'historian and great eulogist' was Sharaf-ud-din (died 1446), whose Zafarnama, or 'Book of Victories', was translated into French by Petis de la Croix in 1722. That version was used by Gibbon and rendered into English in 1723, Copious extracts from an independent rendering are given in E. & D., iii, pp. 478-522. The details do not always agree exactly with Sleeman's account.
47. The 'old city' was that of Kutb-ud-din and Iltutmish; the 'new city' was that of Firoz Shah, which partly coincided with the existing city, and partly lay to the south, outside the Delhi gate.
48. In A.D. 1303.
49. Now in the Saharanpur district.
50. This is a repetition of the statement made above. According to Encycl. Brit., ed. 1910, Timur returned to his capital in April not May.
51. Bajazet, or more accurately Bayazid I, was defeated by Timur at the battle of Angora in 1402, and died the following year. The story of his confinement in an iron cage is discredited by modern critics, though Gibbon (chapter 65) shows that it is supported by much good evidence. Anatolia is a synonym for Asia Minor. It is a vague term, the Greek equivalent of 'the Levant'.
52. Sebaste, also called Elaeusa or Ayash, was in Cilicia.
53. Otherwise called Sihon, or Syr Darya.
54. Two autobiographical works, the Malfuzat and the Tuzukat, are attributed to Timur and probably were composed under his direction. The latter was translated by Major Davey (Oxford, 1783), and the former, in part, by Major Stewart (Or. Transl. Fund, 1830). An independent version of the portion of the Malfuzat relating to India will be found in E. & D., iii, pp. 389-477.
55. Ali Yazdi, commonly called Sharaf-ud-din, author of the Zafarnama in Persian (see ante, chapter 68, note 46), Ibn Arabshah, in an Arabic work, describes Timur from a hostile point of view. (Encycl. Brit., 11th ed., s. v. 'Timur').
56. It is impossible within the limits of a note to discuss the problem of the origin of the gipsies. Much has been written about it, though nothing quite satisfactory. The gipsy, or Romany, language (Romani chiv, or 'tongue') certainly is closely related to, though not derived from, the existing languages of Northern India. Some of the forms are very archaic. A valuable English-Gipsy vocabulary compiled by Mr. (Sir George) and Mrs. Grierson was published in Ind. Ant., vols. xv, xvi (1886,1887). The author's theory does not tally with the facts. Gipsies existed in Persia and Europe long before Timur's time. It is practically certain that they did not come through Egypt. The article 'Gypsies' by F. H. Groome in Chambers's Encycl. (1904) is good, and seems to the editor to be preferable to Dr. Gaster's article 'Gipsies' in Encycl. Brit., 11th ed., 1910.
57. Before the Codes were passed (1859-1861) the criminal law administered in India was, in the main, that of the Muhammadans, and each judge's court had a Muhammadan law officer attached, who pronounced a 'fatwa', or decision, intimating the law applicable to the case, and the penalty which might be inflicted. Several examples of these 'fatwas' will be found among the papers bound up with the author's 'Ramaseeana'.
58. See Koran, chapter 2. [W. H. S.] The passage is the second sentence in chapter 2. The wording, as quoted, differs slightly from Sale's version.
59. See Koran, chapter 32. [W. H. S.]
60. Ibid., chapter 11. [W. H. S.] Sale's version, with trifling verbal differences. The 'mufti's' reasoning has been heard in Europe.
61. See Koran, chapter 15. [W. H. S.] Sale's version, with modifications.
62. 'This is a revelation of the most mighty, the merciful God; that thou mayest warn a people whose fathers were not warned, and who live in negligence. Our sentence hath justly been pronounced against the greater part of them, wherefore they shall not believe. It shall be equal unto them whether thou preach unto them, or do not preach unto them; they shall not believe.' Koran, chapter 36. [W. H. S.] From beginning of the chapter. Sale's version; a sentence being omitted between 'believe' and 'It shall'.
63. I have never met another man so thoroughly master of the Koran as the Mufti, and yet he had the reputation of being a very corrupt man in his office. [W. H. S.]
64. Aleeoodeen; an unusual name; probably a misprint for Ala-ud-din.
65. The 17th chapter of the Koran opens with the words, 'Praise be unto him who transported his servant by night from the sacred temple of Mecca to the farther temple of Jerusalem', 'from whence', as Sale observes, 'he was carried through the seven heavens to the presence of God, and brought back again to Mecca the same night'. The commentators dispute whether the journey to heaven was corporeally performed, or merely in a vision. 'But the received opinion is that it was no vision, but that he was actually transported in the body to his journey's end; and if any impossibility be objected, they think it a sufficient answer to say that it might easily be effected by an omnipotent agent.'
66. See Koran, chapter 15. [W. H. S.]
67. The Muhammadans believe that the Christians have tampered with the Scriptures.
68. It would be difficult to give more vivid expression to the eternal conflict between the theological and the scientific spirit. Compare the remarks ante, chapter 26, note 11, on the attitude of Hindoos towards modern science.
69. Paradise Lost, Book VIII. [W. H. S.] Line 167; from Raphael's address to Adam.
CHAPTER 69
Indian Police—Its Defects—and their Cause and Remedy.
On the 26th[1] we crossed the river Jumna, over a bridge of boats, kept up by the King of Oudh for the use of the public, though his majesty is now connected with Delhi only by the tomb of his ancestor;[2] and his territories are separated from the imperial city by the two great rivers, Ganges and Jumna.
We proceeded to Farrukhnagar, about twelve miles over an execrable road running over a flat but rugged surface of unproductive soil.[3] India is, perhaps, the only civilized country in the world where a great city could be approached by such a road from the largest military Station in the empire,[4] not more than three stages distant. After breakfast the head native police officer of the division came to pay his respects. He talked of the dreadful murders which used to be perpetrated in this neighbourhood by miscreants, who found shelter in the territories of the Begam Samru,[5] whither his followers dared not hunt for them; and mentioned a case of nine persons who had been murdered just within the boundary of our territories about seven years before, and thrown into a dry well. He was present at the inquest held on their bodies, and described their appearance; and I found that they were the bodies of a news writer from Lahore, who, with his eight companions, had been murdered by Thugs on his way back to Rohilkhand. I had long before been made acquainted with the circumstances of this murder and the perpetrators had all been secured, but we wanted this link in the chain of evidence. It had been described to me as having taken place within the boundary of the Begam's territory, and I applied to her for a report on the inquest. She declared that no bodies had been discovered about the time mentioned; and I concluded that the ignorance of the people of the neighbourhood was pretended, as usual in such cases, with a view to avoid a summons to give evidence in our courts. I referred forthwith to the magistrate of the district, and found the report that I wanted, and thereby completed the chain of evidence upon a very important case. The Thanadar seemed much surprised to find that I was so well acquainted with the circumstances of this murder, but still more that the perpetrators were not the poor old Begam's subjects, but our own.
The police officers employed on our borders find it very convenient to trace the perpetrators of all murders and gang robberies into the territories of native chiefs, whose subjects they accuse often when they know that the crimes have been committed by our own. They are, on the one hand, afraid to seize or accuse the real offenders, lest they should avenge themselves by some personal violence, or by thefts or robberies, which they often commit with a view to get them tumed out of office as inefficient; and, on the other, they are tempted to conceal the real offenders by a liberal share of the spoil, and a promise of not offending again within their beat. Their tenure of office is far too insecure, and their salaries are far too small. They are often dismissed summarily by the magistrate if they send him in no prisoners; and also if they send in to him prisoners who are not ultimately convicted, because a magistrate's merits are too often estimated by the proportion that his convictions bear to his acquittals among the prisoners committed for trial to the sessions. Men are often ultimately acquitted for want of judicial proof, when there is abundance of that moral proof on which a police officer or magistrate has to act in the discharge of his duties; and in a country where gangs of professional and hereditary robbers and murderers extend their depredations into very remote parts, and seldom commit them in the districts in which they reside, the most vigilant police officer must often fail to discover the perpetrators of heavy crimes that take place within his range.[6]
When they cannot find them, the native officers either seize innocent persons, and frighten them into confession, or else they try to conceal the crime, and in this they are seconded by the sufferers in the robbery, who will always avoid, if they can, a prosecution in our courts, and by their neighbours, who dread being summoned to give evidence as a serious calamity. The man who has been robbed, instead of being an object of compassion among his neighbours, often incurs their resentment for subjecting them to this calamity; and they not only pay largely themselves, but make him pay largely, to have his losses concealed from the magistrate. Formerly, when a district was visited by a judge of circuit to hold his sessions only once or twice a year, and men were constantly bound over to prosecute and appear as evidence from sessions to sessions, till they were wearied and worried to death, this evil was much greater than at present, when every district is provided with its judge of sessions, who is, or ought to be, always ready to take up the cases committed for trial by the magistrate.[7] This was one of the best measures of Lord W. Bentinck's admirable, though much abused, administration of the government of India.[8] Still, however, the inconvenience and delay of prosecution in our courts are so great, and the chance of the ultimate conviction of great offenders is so small, that strong temptations are held out to the police to conceal or misrepresent the character of crimes; and they must have a great feeling of security in their tenure of office, and more adequate salaries, better chances of rising, and better supervision over them, before they will resist such temptation. These Thanadars, and all the public officers under them, are all so very inadequately paid that corruption among them excites no feeling of odium or indignation in the minds of those among whom they live and serve. Such feelings are rather directed against the government that places them in such situations of so much labour and responsibility with salaries so inadequate; and thereby confers upon them virtually a licence to pay themselves by preying upon those whom they are employed ostensibly to protect. They know that with such salaries they can never have the reputation of being honest, however faithfully they may discharge their duties; and it is too hard to expect that men will long submit to the necessity of being thought corrupt, without reaping some of the advantages of corruption. Let the Thanadars have everywhere such salaries as will enable them to maintain their families in comfort, and keep up that appearance of respectability which their station in society demands; and over every three or four Thanadars' jurisdiction let there be an officer appointed upon a higher scale of salary, to supervise and control their proceedings, and armed with powers to decide minor offences. To these higher stations the Thanadars will be able to look forward as their reward for a faithful and zealous discharge of their duties.[9]
He who can suppose that men so inadequately paid, who have no promotion to look forward to, and feel no security in their tenure of office, and consequently no hope of a provision for old age,[10] will be zealous and honest in the discharge of their duties, must be very imperfectly acquainted with human nature, and with the motives by which men are influenced in all quarters of the world; but we are none of us so ignorant, for we all know that the same motives actuate public servants in India as elsewhere. We have acted successfully upon this knowledge in the scale of salaries and gradation of rank assigned to European civil functionaries, and to all native functionaries employed in the judicial and revenue branches of the public service; and why not act upon it in that of the salaries assigned to the native officers employed in the police? The magistrate of a district gets a salary of from two thousand to two thousand five hundred rupees a month.[11] The native officer next under him is the Thanadar, or head native police officer of a subdivision of his district, containing many towns and villages, with a population of a hundred thousand souls. This officer gets a salary of twenty-five rupees a month. He cannot possibly do his duty unless he keeps one or two horses; indeed, he is told by the magistrate that he cannot; and that he must have one or two horses, or resign his post. The people, seeing how much we expect from the Thanadar, and how little we give him, submit to his demands for contributions without murmuring, and consider almost any demand trivial from a man so employed and so paid. They are confounded at our inconsistency, and say, 'We see you giving high salaries and high prospects of advancement to men who have nothing to do but collect your rents, and decide our disputes about pounds, shillings, and pence, which we used to decide much better ourselves, when we had no other court but that of our elders—while those who are to protect life and property, to keep peace over the land, and enable the industrious to work in security, maintain their families, and pay the government revenue, are left with hardly any pay at all.'
There is really nothing in our rule in India which strikes the people so much as this inconsistency, the evil effects of which are so great and manifest; the only way to remedy the evil is to give a greater feeling of security in the tenure of office, a higher rate of salary, the hope of a provision for old age, and, above all, the gradation of rank, by interposing the officers I speak of between the Thanadars and the magistrate.[12] This has all been done in the establishments for the collection of the revenue, and administration of civil justice.
Hobbes, in his Leviathan, says, 'And seeing that the end of punishment is not revenge and discharge of choler, but correction, either of the offender, or of others by his example, the severest punishments are to be inflicted for those crimes that are of most danger to the public; such as are those which proceed from malice to the government established; those that spring from contempt of justice; those that provoke indignation in the multitude; and those which, unpunished, seem authorized, as when they are committed by sons, servants, or favourites of men in authority.[13] For indignation carrieth men, not only against the actors and authors of injustice, but against all power that is likely to protect them; as in the case of Tarquin, when, for the insolent act of one of his sons, he was driven out of Rome, and the monarchy itself dissolved.' (Para. 2, chapter 30.) Almost every one of our Thanadars is, in his way, a little Tarquin, exciting the indignation of the people against his rulers; and no time should be lost in converting him into something better.
By the obstacles which are still everywhere opposed to the conviction of offenders, in the distance of our courts, the forms of procedure, and other causes of 'the law's delay', we render the duties of our police establishment everywhere 'more honoured in the breach than the observance', by the mass of the people among whom they are placed. We must, as I have before said, remove some of these obstacles to the successful prosecution of offenders in our criminal courts, which tend so much to deprive the government of all popular aid and support in the administration of justice; and to convert all our police establishments into instruments of oppression, instead of what they should be, the efficient means of protection to the persons, property, and character of the innocent. Crimes multiply from the assurance the guilty are everywhere apt to feel of impunity to crime; and the more crimes multiply, the greater is the aversion the people everywhere feel to aid the government in the arrest and conviction of criminals, because they see more and more the innocent punished by attendance upon distant courts at great cost and inconvenience, to give evidence upon points which seem to them unimportant, while the guilty escape owing to technical difficulties which they can never understand.[14]
The best way to remove these obstacles is to interpose officers between the Thanadar and the magistrate, and arm them with judicial powers to try minor cases, leaving an appeal open to the magistrate, and to extend the final jurisdiction of the magistrate to a greater range of crimes, though it should involve the necessity of reducing the measure of punishment annexed to them.[15] Beccaria has justly observed that 'Crimes are more effectually prevented by the certainty than by the severity of punishment. The certainty of a small punishment will make a stronger impression than the fear of one more severe, if attended with the hope of escaping; for it is the nature of mankind to be terrified at the approach of the smallest inevitable evil; whilst hope, the best gift of Heaven, has the power of dispelling the apprehensions of a greater, especially if supported by examples of impunity, which weakness or avarice too frequently affords.'
I ought to have mentioned that the police of a district, in our Bengal territories, consists of a magistrate and his assistant, who are European gentlemen of the Civil Service; and a certain number of Thanadars, from twelve to sixteen, who preside over the different sub-divisions of the district in which they reside with their establishments. These Thanadars get twenty-five rupees a month, have under them four or five Jemadars upon eight rupees, and thirty or forty Barkandazes upon four rupees a month. The Jemadars are, most of them, placed in charge of 'nakas', or sub-divisions of the Thanadar's jurisdiction, the rest are kept at their headquarters, ready to move to any point where their services may be required. These are all paid by government; but there is in each village one watchman, and in larger villages more than one, who are appointed by the heads of villages, and paid by the communities, and required daily or periodically to report all the police matters of their villages to the Thanadars.[16]
The distance between the magistrates and Thanadars is at present immeasurable; and an infinite deal of mischief is done by the latter and those under them, of which the magistrates know nothing whatever. In the first place, they levy a fee of one rupee from every village at the festival of the Holi in February, and another at that of the Dasehra in October, and in each Thanadar's jurisdiction there are from one to two hundred villages. These and numerous other unauthorized exactions they share with those under them, and with the native officers about the person of the magistrate, who, if not conciliated, can always manage to make them appear unfit for their places.[17]
A robbery affords a rich harvest. Some article of stolen property is found in one man's house, and by a little legerdemain it is conveyed to that of another, both of whom are made to pay liberally; the man robbed also pays, and all the members of the village community are made to do the same. They are all called to the court of the Thanadar to give evidence as to what they have seen or heard regarding either the fact or the persons in the remotest degree connected with it—as to the arrests of the supposed offenders—the search of their house— the character of their grandmothers and grandfathers—and they are told that they are to be sent to the magistrate a hundred miles distant, and then made to stand at the door among a hundred and fifty pairs of shoes, till his excellency the Nazir, the under-sheriff of the court, may be pleased to announce them to his highness the magistrate, which, of course, he will not do without a consideration. To escape all these threatened evils, they pay handsomely and depart in peace. The Thanadar reports that an attempt to rob a house by persons unknown had been defeated by his exertions, and the good fortune of the magistrate; and sends a liberal share of spoil to those who are to read his report to that functionary.[18] This goes on more or less in every district, but more especially in those where the magistrate happens to be a man of violent temper, who is always surrounded by knaves, because men who have any regard for their character will not approach him—or a weak, good-natured man, easily made to believe anything, and managed by favourites—or one too fond of field-sports, or of music, painting, European languages, literature, and sciences, or lastly, of his own ease.[19] Some magistrates think they can put down crime by dismissing the Thanadar; but this tends only to prevent crimes being reported to him; for in such cases the feelings of the people are in exact accordance with the interests of the Thanadars; and crimes augment by the assurance of impunity thereby given to criminals. The only remedy for all this evil is to fill up the great gulf between the magistrate and Thanadar by officers who shall be to him what I have described the patrol officers to be to the collectors of customs, at once the tapis of Prince Husain, and the telescope of Prince Ali—a medium that will enable him to be everywhere, and see everything.[20] And why is this remedy not applied? Simply and solely because such appointments would be given to the uncovenanted, and might tend indirectly to diminish the appointments open to the covenanted servants of the company. Young gentlemen of the Civil Service are supposed to be doing the duties which would be assigned to such officers, while they are at school as assistants to magistrates and collectors; and were this great gulf filled up by efficient covenanted officers, they would have no school to go to. There is no doubt some truth in this; but the welfare of a whole people should not be sacrificed to keep this school or play-ground open exclusively for them; let them act for a time as they would unwillingly do with the uncovenanted, and they will learn much more than if they occupied the ground exclusively and acted alone—they will be always with people ready and willing to tell them the real state of things; whereas, at present, they are always with those who studiously conceal it from them.[21]
It is a common practice with Thanadars all over the country to connive at the residence within their jurisdiction of gangs of robbers, on the condition that they shall not rob within those limits, and shall give them a share of what they bring back from their distant expeditions.
They [scil. the gangs] go out ostensibly in search of service, on the termination of the rains of one season in October, and return before the commencement of the next in June; but their vocation is always well known to the police, and to all the people of their neighbourhood, and very often to the magistrates themselves, who could, if they would, secure them on their return with their booty; but this would not secure their conviction unless the proprietors could be discovered, which they scarcely ever could. Were the police officers to seize them, they would be all finally acquitted and released by the judges—the magistrate would get into disrepute with his superiors, by the number of acquittals compared with convictions exhibited in his monthly tables; and he would vent his spleen upon the poor Thanadar, who would at the same time have incurred the resentment of the robbers; and between both, he would have no possible chance of escape. He therefore consults his own interest and his own case by leaving them to carry on their trade of robbery or murder unmolested; and his master, the magistrate, is well pleased not to be pestered with charges against men whom he has no chance of getting ultimately convicted. It was in this way that so many hundred families of assassins by profession were able for so many generations to reside in the most cultivated and populous parts of our territories, and extend their depredations into the remotest parts of India, before our System of operations was brought to bear upon them in 1830. Their profession was perfectly well known to the people of the districts in which they resided, and to the greater part of the police; they murdered not within their own district, and the police of that district cared nothing about what they might do beyond it.[22]
The most respectable native gentleman in the city and district told me one day an amusing instance of the proceedings of a native officer of that district, which occurred about five years ago. 'In a village which he had purchased and let in farms, a shopkeeper was one day superintending the cutting of some sugar-cane which he had purchased from a cultivator as it stood. His name was Girdhari, I think, and the boy who was cutting it for him was the son of a poor man called Madari. Girdhari wanted to have the cane cut down as near as he could to the ground, while the boy, to save himself the trouble of stooping, would persist in cutting it a good deal too high up. After admonishing him several times, the shopkeeper gave him a smart clout on the head. The boy, to prevent a repetition, called out, "Murder! Girdhari has killed me—Girdhari has killed me!" His old father, who was at work carrying away the cane at a little distance out of sight, ran off to the village watchman, and, in his anger, told him that Girdhari had murdered his son. The watchman went as fast as he could to the Thanadar, or head police officer of the division, who resided some miles distant. The Thanadar ordered off his subordinate officer, the Jemadar, with half a dozen policemen, to arrange everything for an inquest on the body, by the time he should reach the place, with all due pomp. The Jemadar went to the house of the murderer, and dismounting, ordered all the shopkeepers of the village, who were many and respectable, to be forthwith seized, and bound hand and feet. "So", said the Jemadar, "you have all been aiding and abetting your friend in the murder of poor Madari's only son." "May it please your excellency, we have never heard of any murder." "Impudent scoundrels," roared the Jemadar, "does not the poor boy lie dead in the sugar-cane field, and is not his highness the Thanadar coming to hold an inquest upon it? and do you take us for fools enough to believe that any scoundrel among you would venture to commit a deliberate murder without being aided and abetted by all the rest?" The village watchman began to feel some apprehension that he had been too precipitate; and entreated the Jemadar to go first and see the body of the boy. "What do you take us for," said the Jemadar, "a thing without a stomach? Do you suppose that government servants can live and labour on air? Are we to go and examine bodies upon empty stomachs? Let his father take care of the body, and let these murdering shopkeepers provide us something to eat." Nine rupees' worth of sweetmeats, and materials for a feast were forthwith collected at the expense of the shopkeepers, who stood bound, and waiting the arrival of his highness the Thanadar, who was soon after seen approaching majestically upon a richly caparisoned horse. "What," said the Jemadar, "is there nobody to go and receive his highness in due form?" One of the shopkeepers was untied, and presented with fifteen rupees by his family, and those of the other shopkeepers. These he took up and presented to his highness, who deigned to receive them through one of his train, and then dismounted and partook of the feast that had been provided. "Now", said his highness, "we will go and hold an inquest on the body of the poor boy"; and off moved all the great functionaries of government to the sugar-cane field, with the village watchman leading the way. The father of the boy met them as they entered, and was pointed out by the village watchman. "Where", said the Thanadar, "is your poor boy?" "There," said Madari, "cutting the canes." "How, cutting the canes? Was he not murdered by the shopkeepers?" "No," said Madari, "he was beaten by Girdhari, and richly deserved it! I find." Girdhari and the boy were called up, and the little urchin said that he called out murder merely to prevent Girdhari from giving him another clout on the side of the head. His father was then fined nine rupees for giving a false alarm, and Girdhari fifteen for so unmercifully beating the boy; and they were made to pay on the instant, under the penalty of all being sent off forty miles to the magistrate. Having thus settled this very important affair, his highness the Thanadar walked back to the shop, ordered all the shopkeepers to be set at liberty, smoked his pipe, mounted his horse, and rode home, followed by all his police officers, and well pleased with his day's work.'
The farmer of the village soon after made his way to the city, and communicated the circumstances to my old friend, who happened to be on intimate terms with the magistrate.[23] He wrote a polite note to the Thanadar to say that he should never get any rents from his estate if the occupants were liable to such fines as these, and that he should take the earliest opportunity of mentioning them to his friend the magistrate. The Thanadar ascertained that he was really in the habit of visiting the magistrate, and communicating with him freely; and hushed up the matter by causing all, save the expenses of the feast, to be paid back. These are things of daily occurrence in all parts of our dominions, and the Thanadars are not afraid to play such 'fantastic tricks' because all those under and all those above them share more or less in the spoil, and are bound in honour to conceal them from the European magistrate, whom it is the interest of all to keep in the dark. They know that the people will hardly ever complain, from the great dislike they all have to appear in our courts, particularly when it is against any of the officers of those courts, or their friends and creatures in the district police.[24]
When our operations commenced, in 1830, these assassins [scil. the Thugs] revelled over every road in India in gangs of hundreds, without the fear of punishment from divine or human laws; but there is not now, I believe, a road in India infested by them. That our government has still defects, and great ones, must be obvious to every one who has travelled much over India with the requisite qualifications and disposition to observe; but I believe that in spite of all the defects I have noticed above in our police System, the life, property, and character of the innocent are now more secure, and all their advantages more freely enjoyed, than they ever were under any former government with whose history we are acquainted, or than they now are under any native government in India.[25]
Those who think they are not so almost always refer to the reign of Shah Jahan, when men like Tavernier travelled so securely all over India with their bags of diamonds; but I would ask them whether they think that the life, property, and character of the innocent could be anywhere very secure, or their advantages very freely enjoyed, in a country where a man could do openly with impunity what the traveller describes to have been done by the Persian physician of the Governor of Allahabad? This governor, being sickly, had in attendance upon him eleven physicians, one of whom was a European gentleman of education, Claudius Maille, of Bourges.[26] The chief favourite of the eleven was, however, a Persian, 'who one day threw his wife from the top of a battlement to the ground in a fit of jealousy. He thought the fall would kill her, but she had only a few ribs broken; whereupon the kindred of the woman came and demanded justice at the feet of the governor. The governor, sending for the physician, commanded him to be gone, resolving to retain him no longer in his service. The physician obeyed; and putting his poor maimed wife in a palankeen, he set forward upon the road with all his family. But he had not gone above three or four days' journey from the city, when the governor, finding himself worse than he was wont to be, sent to recall him; which the physician perceiving, stabbed his wife, his four children, and thirteen female slaves, and returned again to the Governor, who said not a word to him, but entertained him again in his service.' This occurred within Tavernier's own knowledge and about the time he visited Allahabad; and is related as by no means a very extraordinary circumstance.[27]
Notes:
1. January, 1836.
2. The tomb of Safdar Jang, or Mansur Ali Khan, described ante, chapter 68 [4]. The bridges over the Jumna are now, of course, maintained by Government and the railway companies.
3. The main highways approaching Delhi are now excellent metalled roads.
4. By the term 'the largest military station in the empire', the author means Meerut. At present the largest military station in Northern India is, I believe, Rawal Pindi, and the combined cantonments of Secunderabad and Bolarum in the Nizam's dominions constitute the largest military station in the empire.
5. Comprising parts of the Meerut and Muzaffarnagar districts of the North-Western Provinces, now the Agra Province in the United Provinces of Agra and Oudh. The Begam's history will be discussed in chapter 75, post.
6. The members of the reformed police force, constituted under Act V of 1861, generally on the model of the Royal Irish Constabulary, have no reason to complain of insecurity of tenure. It is now very difficult to obtain sanction to the dismissal of a corrupt or inefficient officer, unless he has been judicially convicted of a statutory offence.
7. Ordinarily there is for each district, or administrative unit, a separate Sessions and District Judge, who tries both civil and criminal cases of the more serious kind. Occasionally two or three districts have only one judge between them, who is then usually in arrear with his work. Sessions for the trial of grave criminal cases are held monthly, bimonthly, or quarterly, according to circumstances. In some districts, and for some classes of cases, the jury system has been introduced, but, as a rule, in Northern India the responsibility rests with the judge alone, who receives some slight aid from assessors. Capital sentences passed by a Sessions Judge must be confirmed by two Judges of a High Court, or equivalent tribunal.
8. The historian Thornton (chapter 27) went so far as to declare that Lord William Bentinck has 'done less for the interest of India, and for his own reputation, than any who had occupied his place since the commencement of the nineteenth century, with the single exception of Sir George Barlow'. The abolition of widow-burning is the only act of the Bentinck administration which this writer could praise. Such a criticism is manifestly unjust, the outcome of contemporary anger and prejudice. The inscription written by Macaulay, the friend and coadjutor of Lord William, and placed on the statue of the reforming Governor-General in Calcutta, does not give undeserved praise to the much abused statesman. Sir William Sleeman so much admired Lord William Bentinck, and formed such a favourable estimate of the merits of his government, that it may be well to support his opinion by that of Macaulay. The text of the inscription is:
TO
WILLIAM CAVENDISH BENTINCK,
who during seven years ruled India with eminent prudence, integrity, and benevolence; who, placed at the head of a great Empire, never laid aside the simplicity and moderation of a private citizen; who infused into Oriental despotism the spirit of British freedom; who never forgot that the end of Government is the happiness of the governed; who abolished cruel rites; who effaced humiliating distinctions; who gave liberty to the expression of public opinion; whose constant study it was to elevate the intellectual and moral character of the nation committed to his charge,
THIS MONUMENT
was erected by men who, differing in race, in manners, in language and in religion, cherish with equal veneration and gratitude the memory of his wise, reforming, and paternal administration.
(Lord William Bentinck, by D. Boulger, p. 203; 'Rulers of India' series.)
9. A European District Superintendent of Police, under the general supervision of the Magistrate of the District, now commands the police of each district, and sometimes has one or two European Assistants. He is also aided by well-paid Inspectors, who are for the most part natives of India. Measures have recently been taken, especially in the United Provinces, to improve the pay, training, and position of the police force, European and Indian.
10. Police officers and men now obtain pensions, like public servants in other departments.
11. In some provinces the highest salaries of magistrates are much lower than the rates stated by the author, which are the highest paid to the most senior officers in certain provinces; and, in all provinces, officiating incumbents, who form a large proportion of the officers employed, draw only a part of the full salary. The fall in exchange has enormously reduced the real value of all Indian salaries.
12. Another popular view of this subject, and, I think, the one more commonly taken, is expressed in the anecdote told ante, chapter 58 following [10]. Well-paid Inspectors of Police, drawing salaries of 150 to 200 rupees a month, are often extremely corrupt, and retire with large fortunes, I knew many cases, but could never obtain judicial proof of one.
13. When 'sons, servants, or favourites of men in authority', in India, no longer oppress their fellows, the millennium will have arrived.
14. It is some slight satisfaction to a zealous magistrate of the present day, when he sees a great and influential criminal escape his just doom, to think that even the best magistrates many years ago had to submit to similar painful experiences. India cannot truly be described as an uncivilized or barbarous country, but, side by side with elements of the highest civilization, it contains many elements of primitive and savage barbarism. The savagery of India cannot be dealt with by barristers or moral text-books.
15. The number of subordinate magistrates, paid and unpaid, has of late years been enormously increased, and courts are, consequently, much more numerous than they used to be. The vast increase in facility of communication has also diminished the inconveniences which the author deplores. In Oudh, and certain other provinces, which used to be called Non-Regulation, the chief Magistrate of the District has power to try and adequately punish all offences, except capital ones. The power is useful, when the district officer has time to exercise it, which is not always the case.
16. There is a Superintendent of Police for the Province of Bengal; but in the North-Western Provinces his duties are divided among the Commissioners of Revenue. [W. H. S.] By 'Superintendent of Police' the author means the high officer now called the Inspector-General of Police, under the present System each Local Government or Administration has one of these officers, who is aided by one or more staff officers as Assistant-Inspectors-General. The Commissioners in the United Provinces have been relieved of police duties. The organization of police stations has been much modified since the author's time. 'Our Bengal territories', as understood by the author, included, in addition to Bengal, the 'North-Western Provinces', now the Province, of Agra, the Saugor and Nerbudda Territories, now in the Central Provinces, and the Delhi Territories. Oudh, of course, was then independent; and the Panjab was under the rule of Ranjit Singh.
17. All these practices are still carried on; and experienced magistrates are well aware of their existence, though powerless to stop them. People will often give private information of malpractices, but will hardly ever come into court, and speak out openly. A magistrate cannot take action on statements which the makers will not submit to cross-examination.
18. This is still a favourite trick. Every year Inspectors-General of Police and Secretaries to Government make the same sarcastic remarks about the wonderful number of 'attempts at burglary', and the apparent contentment of the criminal classes with the small results of their labours. But the Thanadar is too much for even Inspectors- General and Secretaries to Government. No amount of reorganization changes him.
19. Mr. R., when appointed magistrate of the district of Fathpur on the Ganges, had a wish to translate the 'Henriade', and, in order to secure leisure, he issued a proclamation to all the Thanadars of his district to put down crime, declaring that he would hold them responsible for what might be committed, and dismiss from his situation every one who should suffer any to be committed within his charge. This district, lying on the borders of Oudh, had been noted for the number and atrocious character of its crimes. From that day all the periodical returns went up to the superior court blank—not a crime was reported. Astonished at this sudden result of the change of magistrates, the superior court of Calcutta (the Sadr Nizamat Adalat) requested one of the judges, who was about to pass through the district on his way down, to inquire into the nature of the System which seemed to work so well, with a view to its adoption in other districts. He found crimes were more abundant than ever; and the Thanadars showed him the proclamation, which had been understood, as all such proclamations are, not as enjoining vigilance in the prosecution of crime, but as prohibiting all report of them, so as to save the magistrate trouble, and get him a good name with his superiors. [W. H. S.]
Great caution should always be used by local officers in making comments on statistics. The subordinate cares nothing for the facts. When a superior objects that the birth-rate is too low and the death- rate too high in any police circle, the practical conclusion drawn by the police is that the figures of the next return must be made more palatable, and they are cooked accordingly. So, if burglaries are too numerous, they cease to be reported, and so forth.
The old Superior Court was known as the Sadr Nizamat Adalat, on the criminal, and as the Sadr Diwani Adalat, on the civil side. These courts have now been replaced by the High Courts, and equivalent tribunals. In the author's time the High Court for the Agra Province had not yet been established. Its seat is now at Allahabad, but was formerly at Agra.
20. The gap has been filled up by numbers of Deputy Magistrates, Tahsildar, &c., invested with magisterial powers, Honorary Magistrates, District Superintendents, and Inspectors, and yet all the old games still go on merrily. The reason is that the character of the people has not changed. The police must have the power to arrest, and that power, when wielded by unscrupulous hands, must always be formidable.
21. A magistrate who can find in his district even one man, official or unofficial, who will tell him 'the real state of things', and not merely repeat scandal and malignant gossip, is unusually fortunate.
22. The Thugs were suppressed because a special organization was devised and directed for the purpose, the English rules as to the admissibility of evidence being judiciously relaxed. The ordinary law and methods of procedure are of little effect against the secret societies known as 'criminal tribes'. These criminal tribes number hundreds of thousands of persona, and present a problem almost unknown to European experience. The gipsies, who are largely of Indian origin, are, perhaps, the only European example of an hereditary criminal tribe. But they are not sheltered and abetted by the landowners as their brethren in India are.
23. The magistrate, of course, was the author.
24. These motives all retain their full force, and are unaffected by Police Commissions and reorganization schemes. Some people think that the character of the police will be raised by the employment as officers of young Indians of good family. I am sorry to say that I found these young men to be the worst offenders. They are more daring in their misdeeds than the ordinary policeman, and no better in their morals.
25. This is quite true; and it is also true that our police administration is the weakest part of our System. But the fault is not entirely that of the police. In some provinces, especially in Bengal, the action of the High Courts has almost paralysed the arm of the Executive.
26. 'M. Claude Maille, of Bourges. As we shall see in Book I, chapter 18, a man of this name, who had escaped from the Dutch service, was, in the year 1652, a not very successful amateur gun-founder for Mir Jumla; he had, after his escape, set up as a surgeon to the Nawab, with an equipment consisting of a case of instruments and a box of ointments which he had stolen from M. Cheteur, the Dutch Ambassador to Golconda. Tavernier throws no light upon his identity with this physician.' (Tavernier, Travels, ed. Ball, vol. i, p. 116, note). M. Maille befriended Manucci, who mentions him several times (Irvine, Storia do Mogor, i, 92, &c.)
27. Ball's version of this horrible story (vol. i, p. 117) does not differ materially from that quoted in the text. Tavernier does not mention the name of the governor, though he observes that he was 'one of the greatest nobles in India'. Tavernier visited Allahabad in December, 1665, and then heard the story, the governor concerned being at the time in the fort. I have no doubt that in the reign of Shah Jahan ordinary offences committed by ordinary criminals were ruthlessly punished, and to some extent suppressed. But, under the best Asiatic Governments, great men and their dependants have usually been able to do pretty much what they pleased. The English Government has the merit of refusing to give formal recognition to difference of rank in criminals, and of often trying to punish influential offenders, though seldom succeeding in the attempt. From time to time a conspicuous example, like that of the Nawab Shams-ud-din, is made, and a few such examples, combined with the greater vigilance and more complete organization of the English executive, prevent the occurrence of atrocities so great as that described, without a word of comment, by the French traveller. I have not the slightest doubt, nor has any magistrate of long experience any doubt, that women are frequently made away with quietly in the recesses of the 'zanana'. I have known several such cases, which were notorious, though incapable of judicial proof. The amount of serious secret crime which occurs in India, and never comes to light, is very considerable.
CHAPTER 70
Rent-free Tenures—Right of Government to Resume such Grants.
ON the 27th[1] we went on fifteen miles to Begamabad, over a sandy and level country. All the peasantry along the roads were busy watering their fields; and the singing of the man who stood at the well to tell the other who guides the bullocks when to pull, after the leather bucket had been filled at the bottom, and when to stop as it reached the top, was extremely pleasing.[2] It is said that Tansen of Delhi, the most celebrated singer they have ever had in India, used to spend a great part of his time in these fields, listening to the simple melodies of these water-drawers, which he learned to imitate and apply to his more finished vocal music. Popular belief ascribes to Tansen the power of stopping the river Jumna in its course. His contemporary and rival, Birju Baula, who, according to popular belief, could split a rock with a single note, is said to have learned his bass from the noise of the stone mills which the women use in grinding the corn for their families.[3] Tansen was a Brahman from Patna, who entered the service of the Emperor Akbar, became a Musalman, and after the service of twenty-seven years, during which he was much beloved by the Emperor and all his court, he died at Gwalior in the thirty-fourth year of the Emperor's reign. His tomb is still to be seen at Gwalior. All his descendants are said to have a talent for music, and they have all Sen added to their names.[4]
While Madhoji Sindhia, the Gwalior chief, was prime minister, he made the emperor assign to his daughter the Bala Bai in jagir, or rent- free tenure, ninety-five villages, rated in the imperial 'sanads' [deeds of grant] at three lakhs of rupees a year. When the Emperor had been released from the 'durance vile' in which he was kept by Daulat Rao Sindhia, the adopted son of this chief,[5] by Lord Lake in 1803, and the countries, in which these villages were situated, taken possession of, she was permitted to retain them on condition that they were to escheat to us on her death. She died in 1834, and we took possession of the villages, which now yield, it is said, four lakhs of rupees a year. Begamabad was one of them. It paid to the Bala Bai only six hundred rupees a year, but it pays now to us six hundred and twenty rupees; but the farmers and cultivators do not pay a farthing more—the difference was taken by the favourite to whom she assigned the duties of collection, and who always took as much as he could get from them, and paid as little as he could to her.[6] The tomb of the old collector stood near my tents, and his son, who came to visit it, told me that he had heard from Gwalior that a new Governor-General was about to arrive,[7] who would probably order the villages to be given back, when he should be made collector of the village, as his father had been.
Had our Government acted by all the rent-free lands in our territories on the same principle, they would have saved themselves a vast deal of expense, trouble, and odium. The justice of declaring all lands liable to resumption on the death of the present incumbents when not given by competent authority for, and actually applied to, the maintenance of religious, charitable, educational, or other establishments of manifest public utility, would never have been for a moment questioned by the people of India, because they would have all known that it was in accordance with the customs of the country. If, at the same time that we declared all land liable to resumption, when not assigned by such authority for such purposes and actually applied to them, we had declared that all grants by competent authority registered in due form before the death of the present incumbents should be liable on their death to the payment to Government of only a quarter or half the rent arising from them, it would have been universally hailed as an act of great liberality, highly calculated to make our reign popular. As it is, we have admitted the right of former rulers of all descriptions to alienate in perpetuity the land, the principal source of the revenue of the state, in favour of their relatives, friends, and favourites, leaving upon the holders the burthen of proving, at a ruinous cost in fees and bribes, through court after court, that these alienations had been made by the authorities we declare competent, before the time prescribed; and we have thus given rise to an infinite deal of fraud, perjury, and forgery, and to the opinion, I fear, very generally prevalent, that we are anxious to take advantage of unavoidable flaws in the proof required, to trick them out of their lands by tedious judicial proceedings, while we profess to be desirous that they should retain them. In this we have done ourselves great injustice.[8]
Though these lands were often held for many generations under former Governments, and for the exclusive benefit of the holders, it was almost always, when they were of any value, in collusion with the local authorities, who concealed the circumstances from their sovereign for a certain stipulated sum or share of the rents while they held office. This of course the holders were always willing to pay, knowing that no sovereign would hesitate much to resume their lands, should the circumstance of their holding them for their private use alone be ever brought to his notice. The local authorities were, no doubt, always willing to take a moderate share of the rent, knowing that they would get nothing should the lands be resumed by the sovereign. Sometimes the lands granted were either at the time the grant was made, or became soon after, waste and depopulated, in consequence of invasion or internal disorders; and remaining in this state for many generations, the intervening sovereigns either knew nothing or cared nothing about the grants. Under our rule they became by degrees again cultivated and peopled, and in consequence valuable, not by the exertions of the rent-free holders, for they were seldom known to do anything but collect the rents, but by those of the farmers and cultivators who pay them.
When Saadat Ali Khan, the sovereign of Oudh, ceded Rohilkhand and other districts to the Honourable Company in lieu of tribute in 1801, he resumed every inch of land held in rent-free tenure within the territories that remained with him, without condescending to assign any other reason than state necessity. The measure created a good deal of distress, particularly among the educated classes; but not so much as a similar measure would have created within our territories, because all his revenues are expended in the maintenance of establishments formed exclusively out of the members of Oudh families, and retained within the country, while ours are sent to pay establishments formed and maintained at a distance; and those whose lands are resumed always find it exceedingly difficult to get employment suitable to their condition.
The face of the country between Delhi and Meerut is sadly denuded of its groves; not a grove or an avenue is to be seen anywhere, and but few fine solitary trees.[9] I asked the people of the cause, and was told by the old men of the village that they remembered well when the Sikh chiefs who now bask under the sunshine of our protection used to come over at the head of 'dalas' (bodies) of ten or twelve horse each, and plunder and lay waste with fire and sword, at every returning harvest, the fine country which I now saw covered with rich sheets of cultivation, and which they had rendered a desolate waste, 'without a man to make, or a man to grant, a petition', when Lord Lake came among them.[10] They were, they say, looking on at a distance when he fought the battle of Delhi, and drove the Marathas, who were almost as bad as the Sikhs, into the Jumna river, where ten thousand of them were drowned. The people of all classes in Upper India feel the same reverence as our native soldiery for the name of this admirable soldier and most worthy man, who did so much to promote our interests and sustain our reputation in this country.[11]
The most beautiful trees in India are the 'bar' (banyan), the 'pipal', and the tamarind.[12] The two first are of the fig tribe, and their greatest enemies are the elephants and camels of our public establishments and public servants, who prey upon them wherever they can find them when under the protection of their masters or keepers, who, when appealed to, generally evince a very philosophical disregard to the feeling of either property or piety involved in the trespass. It is consequently in the driest and hottest parts of the country, where the shade of these trees is most wanted, that it is least to be found; because it is there that camels thrive best, and are most kept, and it is most difficult to save such trees from their depredations. |
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