Strange Men Strange Places

by Ruskin Bond

  In the hand to hand fighting that took place later at George Thomas's capital of Hansi, Robert Skinner found himself face to face with Thomas, a giant of a man, and took a swipe at him with his sword. Thomas was saved by his armoured vest; later, after his surrender, he "was particularly gracious to the younger Skinner, whom he embraced, and showed him the cut he had received from him on his belt". When the Marathas were defeated by the British in 1803, and Sindhia's European officers disbanded, Robert Skinner took service with the private army of Begum Samru, Thomas's old mistress.

  When war broke out between Daulat Rao Sindhia and the British in August 1803, all British subjects in the Maratha army were dismissed from service. Skinner protested his loyalty and tried to get the dismissal order reversed. Seeing Perron bareheaded and "riding about endeavouring to rally his horsemen" — Lake had drawn up his army just outside the fort of Aligarh — Skinner ran to him, seized his bridle, and made a last offer of service to the distracted General.

  "Ah! No," cried Perron. "All is over. Those fellows have behaved badly. Do not ruin yourself. Go over to the English; it is all up with us."

  Skinner renewed his assurances of loyalty, but Perron shook him off and rode away, crying, "Goodbye, Monsieur Skinner. No trust, no trust!"

  "Then you can go to the devil!" roared Skinner, finally losing his patiènce.

  A few days later Skinner rode into General Lake's camp, unsure of his reception because of the colour of his skin; but Lake had a weakness — or rather an admiration — for most military adventurers, and just as he had received Gardner two years earlier, so he received Skinner. So great a fancy did he take to the Eurasian that, when 2,000 of Perron's Hindustani horse came over to the English after the battle of Delhi, Skinner was given their command. The troopers, given a choice of the various English officers who had come over from Sindhia's army, at once chose Skinner, shouting "Sikander Sahib!" without any hesitation.

  His name, corrupted to Is-kinner by the troops, had become Sikander, the Hindustani name for Alexander the Great: a compliment to Skinner's courage and military qualities. Skinner adopted a canary-coloured uniform for his cavalry corps, called Skinner's Horse, though more popularly known as the Yellow Boys. Soon his irregular cavalry was patrolling the northern borders.

  When a few years later the British, very temporarily, adopted a policy of "non-intervention" in the affairs of Indian States, Skinner "beat his sabre into a pruning-hook" and settled down as a farmer on his estates in Hariana, where he had once fought against George Thomas. He was so successful in settling these Districts that he was rewarded with a grant of sixty-seven farms in and around Hansi for the maintenance of his troops. In addition he held an estate of his own, acquired when he was in Sindhia's service, at a small place called Bilaspur, in the Bulandshahr district, some thirty-five miles from Delhi.

  In 1815 Skinner belted on his sword once more, and he and his Yellow Boys distinguished themselves against the Pindari marauders; then against the Arab mercenaries who revolted at Poona in 1819. After this, most of his men went into cantonment at Hansi. Only once again, in the restless '20s, were Skinner and his Yellow Boys called upon in an emergency. According to H. G. Keene in Hindustan Under the Freelances, "a sort of mag-netic storm brooded over the land, causing unrest and reaction. The upper provinces were full of soldiers whose occupation was gone, and whose habits forbade their finding new work in peaceful fields. . . . The administration of justice was imperfect and universally unpopular" (especially in those districts which had known the superior administrative talents of de Boigne); "worst of all, the settlement of the land — always the cornerstone of the Indian social system — was crude, corrupt and unworkable."

  There were pre-Mutiny rumblings, local disturbances everywhere — in the Cis-Sutlej country, the Doab, Rajputana; and the famous Jat State of Bharatpur, never completely subdued by the British, was once again in arms owing to a disputed succession; and as already mentioned Skinner's Horse, with their commander at their head, took part in the ensuing five weeks' siege of Bharatpur.

  Then finally, a Lieutenant-Colonel in the British Army, he retired to Hansi with his men. He had still many years left to live, and it appears that he spent these actively, increasing his family considerably. His domestic habits were more Mohammedan than Christian, and he left behind him children by at least fourteen wives.

  In fulfilment of the vow he made on the battlefield of Uniara, to build a church if his life was spared, he built St. James at Delhi, at a cost of £20,000. At the same time he built a mosque for the use of his wives; and, it is said, a temple in honour of his mother.

  Skinner was a modest, unassuming man, devoted to his family and to the welfare of his men. Though he became quite English in his habits, he was more at ease writing in Persian than in English. His memoirs were written in Persian; so was an ode to the heir of the Begum Samru, in which he attempted to dissuade the young man from visiting England.

  Skinner died in December 1841 of a heart attack brought on by a bowel obstruction and too liberal dosings of every variety of purgative. It was possible for him to survive a hundred fierce battles, but far more difficult to survive his doctors, who administered the doses. He was buried at Hansi, with full military honours, but later his remains were taken to Delhi where, according to his wishes, they were placed under the door sill of St. James, so that all who entered might "trample upon the chief of sinners", as he unworthily chose to describe himself.

  On the seventeenth of January 1842, accompanied by his eldest son, his entire corps, and a great crowd of people, Skinner's body was taken from Hansi to Sitaram ka Sarai, on the outskirts of Delhi. Here the cortege was met by the civilians and officers of the British cantonment, and then, accompanied by a vast crowd from the city, Skinner's coffin was carried to his church.

  "None of the Emperors of Hindustan," wrote an Urdu scribe afterwards, "were ever brought into Delhi in such state as Sikander Sahib!"

  THE STORY OF "BOMBAY CHURCH"

  S YOU ENTER St. Thomas' Cathedral in Bombay, and look at the memorial tablets and monuments that cover the walls, you are at once taken back over two hundred years, to the time when Bombay was first settled by the merchants and factors of the East India Company. The Company had rented the island of Bombay for £10 a year, from King Charles II, who had received it as part of the dowry of Catherine of Braganza, the Portuguese princess.

  Sir Gerald Aungier, President of the East India Company's factories, was virtually the ruler of Bombay in those halcyon days. He improved the island's fortifications, quelled a mutiny, and built up a strong garrison force. The church was begun by him in 1672, but interest in it flagged, and it was not until 1718, some time after Aungier's death, that it was finally completed. This was due mainly to the enthusiasm and zeal of the Rev. Richard Cobbe.

  When Cobbe arrived at Bombay as chaplain to the island, he found that services were held in a room in the fort. In his sermons he impressed on the congregation the necessity of a suitable church.

  "Well, Doctor Cobbe," said the Governor, after attending a service, "you have been very zealous for the church this morning.

  "Yes, your honour," replied Cobbe, "I think there was occasion for it, and I hope without offence."

  "Well, if we must have a church, we must have a church," said the Governor. "Do you get a book made, and see what everyone will contribute towards it."

  Cobbe himself gave over a thousand rupees. Other donors included a certain Cornelius Toddington who gave twenty rupees, "For my wife, when I have her." A substantial sum was collected, and a foundation stone was laid. Three years later, on Christmas day, the church opened. The Governor arrived in procession, and after the service he accompanied the ladies and his Council to the vestry, where they drank success to the new church in the choicest sack and sherry.

  The church prospered under Cobbe's administration, but he was soon quarrelling with the Governor's Council, and making its members the subjects of criticism in his sermons. As one can
not indulge too freely in libel, even from a pulpit, Cobbe found. himself suspended from the Company's service and debarred from officiating as chaplain. He returned to England, and lived to an advanced age.

  Until a diocese was founded and other churches gradually built, the church was known everywhere as "Bombay Church", and was the one place of worship for English merchants living in Bombay. James Forbes in his Oriental Memoirs gives us a charming picture of the Green in front of the church in 1763.

  "A company of soldiers is drawn up before the church. A gentleman with cocked hat, knee-breeches, and a long stick, with a servant holding an umbrella over his head, is gazing at them. A coach, drawn by four horses, preceded by a company of sepoys, is being driven past the church. A factor is being carried in an open palanquin, flanked by two sepoys with drawn swords. There is a gentleman riding in a chaise and pair", as a bullock-cart was then styled! The bullocks would "trot and gallop as well as horses, and are equally serviceable in every respect — except that they sometimes incommode by the filth thrown upon you by their tails". An officer in full-dress uniform, driving about Bombay in a small bullock-cart, must have been a striking though not unusual sight in old Bombay.

  In 1836 the church became the cathedral of the diocese, and the low belfry was converted into a high tower. An extensive programme of rebuilding was begun twenty-five years later, but had to be curtailed because of the trade depression that overtook the local merchants following the end of the American Civil War. The chancel and sanctuary were the results of this scheme of rebuilding, and were executed in ornate pseudo-Gothic; but the nave and western part of the church are early works, and possess both dignity and elegance.

  The large number of monuments inside the cathedral reflect a great deal of the history of Bombay: a monument to Jonathan Duncan (1811), Governor for sixteen years, shows him receiving the blessings of a young Hindu — a reference to Duncan's efforts at suppressing infanticide in some districts near Benares and in Kathiawar; to Colonel Burn, who commanded at the battle of Kirkee (1817); to Colonel John Campbell, defender of Mangalore against Tippu in 1784; to John Carnac (1780), who served with Clive in Bengal, and his wife Eliza Rivett, whose portrait by Reynolds is in the Wallace Collection in London; to Admiral Maitland (1839), who received Napoleon aboard the Bellerophon; and a host of others.

  Hemmed in as it is today by the bustle and noise of modern Bombay, it is difficult to imagine St. Thomas' as it must have looked two hundred years ago, dominating the centre of the spacious Bombay Green; but enter its walls, and the world is at once hushed, and it is possible to forget the shops and blocks of offices outside; and, running our hands over the old stones and worn marble, we feel the presence of those merchant adventurers who turned an unhealthy, malarious island into a great port and a teeming metropolis.

  A GREAT SOLDIER : BENOIT DE BOIGNE

  Y PAST APPEARS a dream!" exclaimed General de Boigne towards the end of his life, when he lived far, far from the India he had known so well. And to us, it does seem like a dream, but de Boigne's achievements were so very real that the course of Indian history might well have been altered but for the premature death of his master, Madhavrao Sindhia, and de Boigne's subsequent withdrawal from the country.

  Aligarh, today, is a town of many contrasts. There is the old city of Koil, with its narrow, insanitary lanes, infested with flies by day and mosquitoes by night. There is the cantonment area, with the old mansions and spacious grounds, many of them built over a hundred years ago by Sindhia's French officers; and outside the town are hundreds of villages scattered throughout the district, where wheat, sugarcane, maize and gram have been cultivated since Moghuls, Marathas, Jats, Afghans and Rohillas each swept over the fertile plains of this important district of northern India.

  At that time every man was a law unto himself. An official record, compiled a century later, tells us that "in those days (the reign of Shah Alam) the highways were unoccupied and travellers walked through byways. The facility of escape, the protection afforded by heavy jungles and the numerous forts that then studded the country, with the ready sale for plundered property, all combined to foster spoliation". Eventually Aligarh was taken by Madhavrao Sindhia, the Maratha chieftain, who had gained control over most of Hindustan (then the name for northern India), and held it until the British vanquished his successor.

  Aligarh became the headquarters of Sindhia's army, organized, trained and maintained by a French soldier of fortune, Benoit de Boigne. It was during the association between Sindhia and de Boigne that the Marathas held complete sway over northern India. De Boigne was perhaps the only European officer in the service of an Indian chief who left the country in a blaze of honour and glory. One of the most able and at the same time benevolent generals of his time, he introduced into his districts the first forms of civil administration.

  He was born on the eighth of March 1751 at Chambery in Savoy, a principality then owing allegiance to the King of Sardinia. It is difficult to say whether Benoit — his real name was Le Borgne — was Italian or French. Though a subject of the King of Sardinia, his parents were French, owners of a fur shop in Chambery; in later life he was to become a British subject; but he never fought for French or British, and his standard, when he went into battle with the Maratha army, was always the standard of Savoy.

  In Chambery there were no openings for the son of a shopkeeper. The government was bureaucratic, and all important posts were reserved for the Italian nobility. Young de Boigne's only amusement was fencing. He gave a great deal of time to the sport, and became a skilled fencer. At seventeen he fought a duel with a Sardinian noble, and ran him through the body. Benoit had to leave Savoy, changing his name to de Boigne.

  His father, however, was well off and bought for Benoit an ensign's commission in the Clare Regiment of the Irish Brigade. Although mainly composed of Irish, the Brigade was open, as the Foreign Legion is today, to adventurers of all nations. But to get promotion one had to be Irish. Five years later de Boigne was still an ensign. In disgust he resigned his commission, and, obtaining a letter of introduction to Count Orloff, made his way to Russia.

  Count Orloff was then dictator of Russia. He was the lover of the Empress Catherine II, whom he had placed on the throne after murdering her husband the Emperor Peter. But preoccupied with the cares of State, he could no longer satisfy the desires of the amorous Catherine; so he conceived the ingenious idea of substituting for himself a series of handsome and virile young men. De Boigne had youth, vigour and charm, and it did not take him long to find favour with the Empress; but, if Catherine was fond of good looking young men, she was still more fond of change. (The Begum Samru was of a similar disposition.) When she had had enough of de Boigne she gave him a captain's commission and sent him to fight the Turks in the Aegean. The young adventurer was taken prisoner at Tenedos and sold as a slave. He spent the next seven months drawing water from a well in Constantinople.

  Ransomed by his father — who, it seems, never neglected his duty towards his son — de Boigne again presented himself to his bored Empress; and to get rid of him again she promoted him to the rank of major and sent him to explore Central Asia — a polite form of dismissal.

  To Central Asia went de Boigne. Meeting some English merchants at Smyrna, full of travellers' tales about India, he resigned the Russian service and decided to try his luck in India. Arriving at Madras, he obtained an appointment as a sublieutenant in the Madras army; but he was a Frenchman, and his attentions to the wife of a fellow officer were misunderstood, and he had to resign. From Madras he went to Calcutta, with a letter of introduction to Warren Hastings, who, taking a liking to de Boigne, sent him to the Nawab of Oudh, who had already done so much for Claude Martine. The two Frenchmen met and became life-long friends. The Nawab gave de Boigne a letter of credit for twelve thousand rupees and a khilat which de Boigne sold for four thousand rupees; but soon afterwards a gang of robbers, instigated by Madhavrao Sindhia, who was curious to know more about the adventurer, st
ole his money and papers. De Boigne was once again a beggar; but this was the turning point in his fortunes.

  Madhavrao Sindhia had studied the papers taken from de Boigne's baggage, and had been carefully watching the Savoyard's movements. He had learnt from fighting against the British and his loss of Gwalior the immense value of European discipline and tactics. When the Marathas had been routed by the Afghans at Panipat, and Sindhia had escaped with his life and a lame leg, the best fight had been put up by a corps of infantry trained on the European model. Unfortunately there had not been enough of these troops; and the Marathas' hit-and-run tactics, useful in skirmishes, were of no help in a pitched battle. But Sindhia, a shrewd man, learnt from experience. Now he offered de Boigne fifteen thousand rupees a month to raise two battalions of regular infantry, modelled as closely as possible on the East India Company's troops.

  De Boigne's opportunity — and test — had come. It was no easy job with which he was faced. First he had to select officers, and he gathered around him a number of other adventurers, French, Dutch and English: chief among them Perron, who was to be his less glorious successor, Robert Sutherland and James Skinner. Then he had to raise recruits. The Maratha army, except for cavalry, was to consist of very few Marathas; most of the soldiers were Rajputs, and Jats and Rohillas from the northern provinces.