by Fanny Parkes
‘I have never, during my connection with the Thugs, known a single instance of their committing a robbery without the previous destruction of life, which is almost invariably accomplished by strangulation. This is effected either by means of a roomal (handkerchief) or shred of cloth well twisted and wetted, or merely by the hands, though the latter is rarely practised and only had recourse to from accidental failure in the former and usual mode.
‘A preconcerted signal being given, the victim or victims are instantly overpowered and death, either by the roomal or hands, is the act of a moment. In perpetrating murder it is an invariable rule with the Thugs never, if possible, to spill the blood of their victims, in order that no traces of murder may appear, to awaken suspicion of the deed in the minds of those who may happen to pass the spot, and detection be the consequence. In the hurry in which it is sometimes necessary to dispose of the bodies, holes cannot be dug sufficiently large to contain them in an entire state, particularly when the number of them is great; the bodies are then cut in pieces and packed therein.
‘When these holes are near the roadside, and especially in an exposed spot, it is usual, after covering them with earth, to burn fires over them, to do away with the appearance of the earth having been newly turned. Murders, in the manner just described, are perpetrated as frequently and with equal facility and certainty, whilst the victims are walking along the road, as when they have been enticed to our places of encampment and, unconscious of what is to befall them, are sitting amongst us with everything carefully and leisurely arranged for their destruction.
‘These murders frequently take place near villages where we encamp, and usually during twilight; and always, whilst the business is going on, the hand-drum is beaten and singing commenced, to drown any noise that might be made by the victims.
‘The several persons actually engaged commence their operations simultaneously at a preconcerted signal given.
‘The signal is an arbitrary one; generally a common, coarse expression is used, not likely to strike the attention of the victims, such as “Tumbakoo lao” (bring tobacco).
‘I have never seen the phansy (or noose) made of cord employed for strangling, though I am fully aware of the general supposition, that it is with it that we strangle people; but if such has ever been employed, which I greatly doubt, it has long since been laid aside, for the obvious reason that if a Thug were seized having it about his person it would inevitably lead to his detection.
‘A direct understanding with the local authorities in Bundelkand is constantly kept up by Oormtao, Mokhun, and all the other leaders and jamadārs, who on their return from their excursions reside in that part of the country, and these authorities are conciliated and their favour gained by suitable presents.
‘Assistance and support from the English authorities being likewise indispensable, are obtained through artifice. This is effected by means of their emissaries who, by misrepresentation and falsehood, frequently contrive to extricate them from the difficulties in which persons of our habits are constantly involved. A relation of Oomrao’s, Motee by name, and Lala Hajain, an inhabitant of Sikandra, render important services in this way. Motee, who was himself a Thug formerly, has for some years past discontinued going on predatory excursions. He first brought himself into notice with European gentlemen by informing against a gang which was seized in consequence, and confined at Jabalpur, where the greater part still remain.
‘Since then Motee has advanced in favour with these gentlemen, who are led to suppose he acts as a check upon the Thugs and other plunderers; at least, he persuades us that such is the case, the consequence of which is that he exercises great influence over us, making us pay well for his connivance, and the good offices he no doubt frequently performs in our behalf.
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‘Few of us carry arms, indeed, amongst fifteen or twenty persons not more than two or three swords may be found.
‘When Thugs, though strangers to each other, meet, there is something in their manner which discovers itself; and, to make “assurance doubly sure”, one exclaims “Alee khān!” which being repeated by the other party recognition takes place, but is never followed by a disclosure of past acts.
‘In the division of plunder the jamadārs receive seven and a half per cent, besides sharing equally with the rest of the gang; but, before any division is made, a certain portion is devoted to Bhawāni, our tutelar deity. This applies only to money in gold or silver; for when the plunder consists of diamonds and pearls, the leader draws blood from his hand, and having sprinkled a little over them, the sanction of the goddess to a division is thereby obtained without any other alienation. But the omission of this ceremony, or neglecting, when success attends us, to propitiate a continuance of Bhawāni’s favour by laying aside a part of our acquisitions for her service, would, we firmly believe, bring heavy misfortune upon us.
‘The office of strangler is never allowed to be self-assumed, but is conferred with due ceremony, after the fitness of the candidate in point of firmness, activity and bodily strength has been ascertained, and a sufficient degree of expertness in the use of the roomal has been acquired by long sham practice amongst ourselves.
‘When thus qualified, the person on whom the office is to be conferred proceeds to the fields, conducted by his guru (spiritual guide), previously selected, who carries with him the roomal, and anxiously looking out for some favourable omen, such as the chirping of certain birds, or their flight past the right hand, knots the roomal at each end the moment that either occurs and delivers it to the candidate, imploring success upon him.
‘After this they return, when the ceremony is closed by a feast, or distribution of sweetmeats. The seniors only confer this office, generally old Thugs held in some estimation but who from infirmity or age have ceased to accompany the gangs in their expeditions, and whose chief support is received from the voluntary contributions of those on whom they have conferred the privilege of using the roomal.
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This is the end of The Thug’s Confession.
The other men, on their examination, acknowledged having murdered a bearer, on whom they found four rupees. They also met with twelve seapoys; eight of the soldiers took one road, and the other four another. The Thugs, therefore, divided into two parties, overtook the seapoys, and killed them all.
One Thug said that on a certain day eleven men were killed and buried. The other Thug said that on the same day only seven were strangled: on re-examination he replied, ‘Yes, it is true I only mentioned seven – there might have been eleven or more, I cannot remember; we strangled people so constantly, that I took little account of the numbers buried. I only know on that day about seven or eleven were buried.’
The Thugs never attack Europeans.
CHAPTER XIV
RESIDENCE AT CAWNPORE
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MARCH 29TH – My husband proceeded dāk to Cawnpore, to take charge of his appointment and to engage a house, leaving me with my friends. On one stage of the road he had such a set of coolies, instead of bearers, to his pālkee, that they could not continue to carry it – at last, setting it down, they all ran away, and he had to wait six hours on the road until other bearers came: as this happened during the night, it was of no further consequence than making the latter part of his dāk very hot, as he did not reach his destination until eleven o’clock. The bearers on this road are proverbially bad.
Here I saw the first thermantidote (window fan), and took a sketch of it, in order to make one for myself. Here also, I saw the first alligator, a snub-nosed fellow, which was caught in the Jumna, and sent up on a chārpāī. Mr W— had the kindness to give me skulls of alligators, crocodiles, hyenas, and tigers, beautifully prepared, to add to my cabinet of curiosities.
Collecting Persian and Hindustani proverbs and sayings, and having them cut on seals, was another of my amusements.
April 19th – This day brought a letter saying a good bungalow had at length been procured, and I
started dāk the next day. The judge, that I might meet with no adventures on the road, gave me a guard, which was relieved at the different chaukis, police stations.
A barkandāz (policeman) and two chaukidārs (watchmen) ran by the side of my palanquin all the way; in consequence I was not detained one moment more than necessary on the road. One of the barkandāz was armed with two swords and a great bamboo!
The journey was very unpleasant, very hot, and not a breath of air.
The dust from the trampling of the bearers’ feet rolled up in clouds, filling my eyes and mouth and powdering my hair; and my little terrier, Fairy Poppus, as the natives call her, in imitation of my ‘Fury, pup, pup’, was very troublesome in the pālkee.
I arrived at Cawnpore at seven in the morning, and was glad to take shelter in my new house, which I found very cool and pleasant after a hot drive during the last stage in a buggy.
The house, or rather bungalow, properly Bangla, for it is tiled over a thatch, is situated in the centre of the station, near the theatre; it stands on a platform of stone rising out of the Ganges, which flows below and washes the walls. The station is a very large one: besides the gentlemen of the Civil Service, there are the artillery, the eleventh dragoons, the fourth cavalry, and three or four regiments of infantry.
The work of this day began by what is really an operation in India, and constantly repeated, that is, washing the hair. My ayah understood it remarkably well.
June 9th—The deaths are numerous in our farmyard; in such weather it is a matter of surprise that any thing can exist. At four o’clock the thermometer outside the verandah, in the sun, stood at 130°; in the shade, at 110°! From this time to the end of August we lost two hundred and eighty guinea fowls from vertigo, and three calves also died.
A storm is raging: it arose in clouds of dust, which, sweeping over the river from the Lucknow side, blow directly on the windows of the drawing-room; they are all fastened, and a man at every one of them, or the violence of the wind would burst them open; my mouth and eyes are full of the sand; I can scarcely write – not a drop of rain, only the high wind, and the clouds of dust so thick we cannot see across the verandah. I feel rather afraid lest some part of the house, which is not in good repair, should give way if it continue to blow in such gusts. This bay-windowed room feels the whole force of the tufān, which is the heaviest I have seen. In Calcutta we had severe storms, with thunder and lightning; here, nothing but clouds of sand – reaching from earth to heaven – with a hot yellow tinge, shutting out the view entirely. The storm has blown for an hour, and is beginning to clear off; I can just see the little white-crested waves on the river beneath the verandah.
In the open air the thermometer stands at 130°; in the drawing-room, with three tattīs up, at 88°. The heat is too oppressive to admit of an evening drive.
A high caste and religious native gentleman, Shāh Kubbeer-oo-deen Ahmud, requested to be allowed to play at chess with me; the natives are passionately fond of the game, which is remarkable, as chess was one of the games forbidden by the prophet. On the arrival of my opponent, I recognised the native gentleman who had entertained me with fireworks at Sahseram. I have spoken of him as of high caste – that term is only correct when applied to an Hindu, Musulmāns have no distinction of caste.
June 14th – A tufān, a sand storm, or rather a storm of sand and dust, is now blowing; indeed, a little while ago the darkness was so great from that cause, I was obliged to leave off writing, being unable to distinguish the letters.
The Barkandāz
The Ganges opposite Cawnpore is about three miles in breadth; and, at this season, the water being low, the natives cultivate melons, cucumbers, wheat, etc., on the islands in the centre of the stream; some of the melons are delicious, remarkably fragrant and very cheap. During the rains the islands are entirely under water, and the river, when there is a breeze, swells into waves like a little sea.
If a house has a flat roof covered with flagstones and mortar, it is called a pukka house; if the roof be raised and it be thatched, it is called a bungalow; the latter are generally supposed to be cooler than the pukka houses. The rooms of our house are lofty and good; the dining-room forty feet by twenty-eight, the swimming-bath thirty feet by twenty-one, and all the other rooms on a suitable scale. There is a fine garden belonging to and surrounding the house, having two good wells, coach-house, stables, cow-house, etc. In India the kitchen and all the servants’ offices are detached from the dwelling on account of the heat. We pay Rs 150 a month, about 150 guineas per annum, a heavy rent for an up-country house: the houses are always let unfurnished.
Very fine white grapes are now selling at fourpence-halfpenny per pound. Cawnpore is famous for its fruit-gardens.
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Women have more influence over men in India than in any other country. All outdoor amusements are nearly denied to the latter by the climate, unless before sunrise or after sunset; therefore the whole time of military men, generally speaking, is spent in the house, devoted either to music or drawing, which of course they prefer in the society of ladies, or in the study of the languages or in gaming. The young officers at this station play exceedingly high, ruinously so – two-guinea points at short whist and one hundred guineas on the rubber is not unusual amongst the young men.
Happily the gentlemen in the Civil Service have too much employment to admit of their devoting their time to gambling.
If you ask a native – ‘Where is your master gone?’ if the gentleman be from home, you are sure to receive the answer – ‘Howā khānā-ke-wāste’ (to eat the air); this chameleon-like propensity of eating the air is always the object during the early morning ride and the evening drive.
Our servants at present only amount to fifty-four, and I find it quite difficult enough to keep them in order; they quarrel amongst themselves, and when they become quite outrageous, they demand their discharge.
My ayah and the ābdār had a laughable quarrel. She was making herself a pair of Europe chintz pyjamas (trousers) such as they usually wear, made very full round the body, and quite tight from the knee to the ankle.
Musulmān women never wear a petticoat when amongst themselves, it is the badge of servitude, and put on to please European ladies; the moment an ayah gets into her own house, she takes off her full petticoat and the large white mantle (chādar) that covers her head and the upper part of her body, and walks about in the curiously shaped trousers I have described, with a sort of loose jacket of muslin over the upper part, beneath which is the angiya.
The ayah was sitting on her chārpāī (native bed) working away with great eagerness, when her friend the ābdār advised her to make the trousers full to the ankle; and she came to me to give warning to quit my service, vowing revenge upon the ābdār, because nāch women wear trousers of that description. The old ābdār, Sheik-jee, was sitting down very quietly making chapāties (flour-cakes), and smoking his narjil (coconut shell huqqa) at intervals, enjoying the ayah’s anger until she stood up and, screaming with passion, gave him gālee (abuse); he then flew into a rage, and I had some trouble to restore peace and quietness. Natives seldom, indeed hardly ever, come to blows, but they will go on for hours abusing each other in the grossest language, screaming out their words from passion.
A darzee (tailor) is an Indian luxury: they work beautifully – as strongly and finely as the French milliners; they have great patience – because they are paid by the month, and not by the piece. In Calcutta I found my tailors great thieves – knives, scissors, seals – they would steal anything. One man carried off a present I had just received, a necklace and bracelets of a very curious pattern, and a box full of polished pebbles, in sets, from the Soane river.
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In Calcutta, the tank water being unwholesome to drink, it is necessary to catch rain water, and preserve it in great jars, sixty jars full will last a year in our family. It is purified with alum, and a heated iron is put into it. Here we drink the Ganges water, reckoned the
most wholesome in India; it is purified in jars in the same manner. The water of the Jumna is considered unwholesome, and in some parts, my old ābdār declares it is absolutely poisonous.
We were glad to quit Allahabad, the smallpox having commenced its ravages at that station. On our arrival at Cawnpore, we found it raging still worse; the magistrate took it and died in three days. Hundreds of children are ill of this disease in the bazaar; and the government, in their humanity, have done away with the vaccine department here. Surely it is a cruel act, where there are so many regiments and so many European children who cannot now be vaccinated. It is very severe and numbers of adults have been attacked.
In India wax candles are always burned. A bearer will not touch a mould because they say it is made of pig’s fat. We burn spermaceti generally. The first time the bearers saw them, they would not touch the spermaceti, and I had great difficulty in persuading them the candles were made from the fat of a great fish. Some bearers in Calcutta will not snuff a candle if it be on the dinner-table, but a khidmatgār having put it on the ground, the bearer will snuff it when the other man replaces it. In the Upper Provinces they are not so particular.
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People think of nothing but converting the Hindus; and religion is often used as a cloak by the greatest schemers after good appointments. Religious meetings are held continually in Calcutta, frequented by people to pray themselves into high salaries, who never thought of praying before.