Begums, Thugs and White Mughals

by Fanny Parkes

  WHO HAS SEEN TOMORROW

  i.e. Enjoy today, no one knows what will happen tomorrow.

  FEBRUARY 1ST 1832 – We quitted the Residency at Lucknow, feeling greatly gratified by the kindness we had experienced from the Resident, and returned to Cawnpore.

  We now prepared for our removal to Allahabad. The horses and carriages having been dispatched by land, the furniture, etc. was put into six great country boats, one of which, an immense 900 man patailā, contained cows, sheep, goats, besides a number of fowls, guinea-fowls, turkeys, etc.; and on the top of all was a great thermantidote (window fan).

  February 17th – We quitted Cawnpore, and commenced our voyage down the Ganges.

  February 18th – The low sandbanks in the river swarm with crocodiles; ten are basking on a bank to the left of our boat, and five or six are just ahead. The sāhib has fired at them several times, but they are beyond the reach of pistol shot. They are timid animals; as soon as you approach them they dive down into the river. We have only seen the long-nosed crocodiles, none of the snub-nosed alligators. What a monster there is very near us, and such a winsome wee one by its side! I want a baby crocodile very much for my cabinet.

  At Sheorajpore our friends tried to tempt us to remain with them, showing us a nilgāi, a wild boar, hares, black partridges and the common grey partridges that they had shot; and offering us an elephant to enable us to join the sportsmen the next day.

  How much I enjoy the quietude of floating down the river, and admiring the picturesque ghāts and temples on its banks! This is the country of the picturesque, and the banks of the river in parts are beautiful.

  On the morning of our quitting Lucknow, my aide-de-camp, the young Bhopāl chieftain, was made quite happy by being allowed to make his salam to his Majesty, who gave him a dress of honour.

  I can write no more; the sāhib’s vessel has lugoed, that is, has made fast to the bank; I must go out shooting with him and mark the game.

  February 19th – We slept off Nobusta; the wind was very high, it blew a gale, but the high bank afforded us protection. Our boats are large, flat-bottomed, shallow and broad country boats, on each of which a great house is built of bamboo and mats, and the roof is thatched. The interior is fitted up with coloured chintz, like that used for tents. Such unwieldy vessels are very likely to be upset in a storm. The great patailā, which contains the cows, etc., has given us much trouble; she has been aground several times being, from her height and bulk, almost unmanageable in a strong wind.

  It is very cold, the rain is falling fast; all the servants and the crew look so deplorable and keep their shoulders to their ears. The horses on their march will be exposed to it; they are merely sheltered by a tree at night – a cold berth for animals accustomed to warm stables.

  February 20th – This has been a day of rain and contrary wind; we have made but little way, and being unable to reach Mirzapur, have lugoed off a sandbank.

  February 21st – We breakfasted at Mirzapur and reached Kurrah at night, where we moored our little fleet under an old fort built by Aurangzeb. No sooner had we made fast than a heavy storm came on, accompanied by thunder and lightning, hail and rain; the latter was so heavy, it soaked through the thatch of the bamboo houses on the boats and rendered us very uncomfortable. The large patailā was missing, but came in the next day with her cargo of cows and sheep; from her height she must have been in danger, as she had not gained the land when the storm came on.

  We have moored just below Aurangzeb’s fort, over which I have roamed; it is an excellent subject for a sketch; the view from the height is beautiful.

  On the other side is an old well, built of the very small Hindustani bricks; the river has washed away all the bank in which the well was originally sunk, and it now stands naked on the sand – a remarkable object.

  February 24th – We arrived at Allahabad, and my husband took charge of his appointment. Then commenced dinner-parties given in honour of our return by our old friends at the station.

  Am I not happy once more in dear old Prāg? We have no troubles as at Cawnpore; no one poisons our horses; all the people around us appear pleased at our return and eager to serve us; our neighbours here are friends interested in our welfare. My old carpenters, the saddler, the ironsmith, the painter, the stonecutter and the sealing-wax-maker are all in their old nooks in the verandah.

  March 1st – It was so cold we had fires of an evening, which were not discontinued until the 5th of the month.

  Our friend Captain B— is going home; he will tell those we love of our goings out and comings in, and will be as a connecting link to those betwixt whom and us this great gulf of distance is fixed. It really requires an exile from home to be able to enjoy its blessings. He will or ought to run about almost demented for the first year. Heaven prosper the good country! I hope to turn Hampshire hog myself, either here or hereafter, after the Pythagorean system.

  The weather is becoming very hot; we are making our house look cool and comfortable, colouring it with French grey, and hanging pankhās in preparation for the hot winds. We hope to feel cool by the aid of a thermantidote, for which we are building a terrace and verandah.

  The thermantidote is a structure awful to behold; but we shall benefit from its good effect; and, like a steamboat, shall be able to do without wind which, with the tattīs commonly in use, is the sine qua non for fraîcheur.

  A thermantidote is an enormous machine for forcing cool air into the house; it is made of amrā (mango wood), or of sākoo (Shorea robusta): the wheels and axle are of iron. In height, it is about seven feet, in breadth four or five, and some nine or ten or twelve feet in length.

  There is a little machine sold in England, under the name of a fire-blower, which is on the same principle, and is almost a miniature thermantidote. It also resembles in some respects a machine for winnowing corn, but on a larger scale.

  The thermantidote, which is hollow and of circular form, has a projecting funnel, which is put through and fixed into a window of the house, from the machine which stands in the verandah.

  In the interior, four large fans are affixed to an iron axle, which, passing through the centre of the machine, is turned round by two men on the outside; by which means the fans revolve, and force the air out of the thermantidote through the funnel into the house.

  To render the outer air cool, which is thus driven into the house, a circle of about four feet in diameter is cut out in the planks which form the two broad sides of the thermantidote; and beyond these circles khas-khas tattīs are affixed; so that the vacuum produced by forcing the air out of the machine is supplied by air passing through the tattīs.

  On each side of the thermantidote, on the outside at the top, a long trough is fixed, perforated with small holes in its bottom. Water is constantly poured into these troughs which, dropping through the holes upon the tattīs placed below them, keeps them constantly wetted. This water is received below in two similar troughs and, passing through a little spout at the side, is collected in tubs, or in large high earthen pans. Coolies are constantly employed in handing up this water, in earthen waterpots (thiliyas), to other coolies on the top of the thermantidote, whose business it is to keep the tattīs constantly dripping wet. By this means all the air that passes into the body of the machine through the wetted khas-khas is rendered cool, and fit to be forced into the house by the action of the fans in their circular course.

  The thermantidote stands upon four small wheels, which facilitate the movement of so cumbersome and ponderous a machine.

  Khas-khas was put on the thermantidote today; you have no idea how fragrant, delicious and refreshing is the scent of the fresh khas-khas, which is the root of a high jungle grass, called gandar (Andropogon muricatum). These fibrous roots are thinly worked into bamboo frames, which fit exactly into the thermantidote, or into windows. These frames are kept constantly watered, for the purpose of cooling the hot wind which, passing through the wetted roots, is lowered many degrees in temperature, owing t
o the evaporation that is produced.

  Our station is about to be increased by the addition of two Boards; one of Revenue, and one of Criminal and Civil Justice. The station is already sufficiently large for quiet society.

  We have received the news of a Chinese revolution; or rather the old squabble, but of a more violent sort, between the Factory and the Hong merchants. Trade is stopped and the papers here are talking of the necessity of fitting out an expedition to chastise the celestials. The mob broke into the factory and, amongst other extravagancies, amused themselves with spitting at the King’s picture and then turning it with its face to the wall!

  The Arabs [Pathans] bring down a sort of coarse shawl, called puttuah or pattū. It is extremely light and remarkably soft and warm. I was examining some, intending to purchase it: ‘This is not a good piece,’ said I. ‘The name of God is better than this!’ exclaimed the man, with indignation; meaning, nothing is superior to it but the name of God.

  Execution of twenty-five Thugs

  May 9th.—The inhabitants at Jabalpur were this morning assembled to witness the execution of twenty-five Thugs, who were all hanged at the same time, arrangements having been previously made. It would be impossible to find in any country a set of men who meet death with more indifference than these wretches; and, had it been in a better cause, they would have excited universal sympathy.

  As it was, there was something dreadful in the thought that men who had so often imbrued their hands in blood should meet their death with such carelessness. I believe they had previously requested to be allowed to fasten the cord around their necks with their own hands; certain it is that each individual, as soon as he had adjusted the noose, jumped off the beam and launched himself into eternity; and those who first mounted the ladder selected their ropes, rejecting such as did not please them. One of them, who had leaped off the beam and had been hanging for more than three seconds, put his hand up and pulled his cap over his face. This is the second execution of Thugs that has taken place here, but no accident happened this time, nor did a single rope break.

  [ … ]

  Too much credit cannot be given to the principal assistants of this district, who have succeeded in capturing so many of them; and Capt. S— has the satisfaction of knowing that by his endeavours these men have been seized.

  The extent of murder committed by the Thugs exceeds belief; and some time since a sergeant-major was murdered by a party of them. One of the principal assistants, some time ago, when marching in the district, received information that some bodies which had been strangled were under his tent, and upon digging, he discovered a great many!

  One of the men who was executed this morning was a chaprāsi, who had been sent towards Nagpur to seize the party, but who joined himself with them and by his presence protected them.

  A guard of a company of sipahīs, under the command of Lieut. G—, was in attendance; but there was not the slightest disturbance, nor did the natives betray the slightest emotion of any kind, except one Nujeeb, who fainted.

  May 18th – The thermantidote has been put up in our verandah. The rooms are ten degrees cooler than when we had only tattīs. For the first time I have been laid up with a strong attack of rheumatism and lumbago. My medical man says, ‘The thermantidote pours forth such a volume of cold air that if you have fallen asleep near it, it has caused all these aches and pains. “Nulla rosa senza spine.”’

  [ … ]

  The Arabian Leprosy (Koostum)

  Happily this dreadful disease is not as common as the other forms of leprosy: but once I beheld a dreadful specimen of its virulence; going into the verandah at seven o’clock, where the carpenters were all at work, a close and most disagreeable effluvium annoyed me – the cause could not be discovered.

  Just beyond, in the garden, lay a lump under a black blanket. ‘What is this?’ said Lutchman, the carpenter, ‘the smell proceeds from this lump.’ He raised the blanket, beneath it was a leper. Lutchman desired the man to quit the grounds. The poor wretch held up his hands and showed his feet; the fingers and toes of which were festering and rotten from the black Arabian leprosy!

  I desired he might be carried to the hospital. ‘We will not touch him,’ said the servants; ‘let him go to the leper hospital.’ I sent the man a rupee. ‘What is the use of a rupee?’ said Lutchman, ‘he cannot enter the bazaar; how can he change it?’ I sent him some copper coins. ‘Perhaps someone of low caste will bring him food and take the ānnās,’ said the carpenter. The poor wretch raised himself; made salam for the money, and crawled away on his knees and elbows. The next day he was found dead in a field: some of the copper coins had been expended, the remainder and the rupee were on his person.

  The man had come up from Calcutta on a boat, had been put ashore under our garden bank and had crawled up; he had not a cowrie. ‘There was not even left a sigh in his heart’.’

  He was totally destitute: but of this I was ignorant until the next day. The effluvium was so bad, and the danger of infection so fearful, it was necessary to remove him at once from the garden.

  There is a pink leprosy very common: I have often seen a man – once I saw two men – bathing amongst a multitude of men and women, their skins were pink, like the pink of salmon; the disease is not catching, I understand, and they are not avoided.

  Another leprosy shows itself in white spots on their dark skins. I was practising archery one morning early; suddenly from behind a tree, a woman came to me and throwing herself on the ground, laid hold of my foot with both hands and bent her head upon it saying, ‘Mercy, mercy, Bibi Sāhiba! May you bathe in milk, and be fruitful in children!’ A gentleman present caught me by the shoulder and pulled me back, at the same time speaking angrily to the woman. ‘Do you not see,’ said he, ‘she is a leper? She is covered with spots, come away, I am very sorry she touched you.’ I gave her some ānnās, and told her to go to the hospital – one established by the contributions of the gentlemen at the station and supported by subscription. There is, also, an asylum for the blind, supported in the same manner.

  [ … ]

  June 1st – Finding myself ill for want of exercise, I commenced rising early; dressing by candlelight, going out by moonlight and mounting my horse at half-past three! What an unnatural life! The buggy is always sent forward to await my arrival at a certain spot; I never draw my horse’s rein until I arrive at the place, the heat is so much greater when you walk your horse. I return in the buggy at six o’clock, go to bed for a couple of hours, bathe, and appear at breakfast.

  How often ‘Chār vajr, barī fajr,’ i.e. four o’clock in the early dawn, sleepy and unwilling to exert myself, have I thought of the proverb: ‘Oh, thou who art so fond of sleep, why don’t you die at once?’

  Today the heat is dreadful; 89° even at the mouth of the thermantidote, and in the other parts of the house six degrees higher! After my early canter, I did not quit my chārpāī until three o’clock, so completely was I exhausted by the heat.

  Although by nature not inclined to the melting mood, I felt as if I should dissolve, such streams from my forehead, such thirst and lassitude; I really ‘thaw, and resolve myself into a dew’. The call all day is soda-water, soda-water.

  To the 21st of June, this oppressive weather held its sway; our only consolation grapes, iced-water, and the thermantidote, which answers admirably, almost too well, as on the 22nd I was laid up with rheumatic fever and lumbago occasioned, they tell me, by standing or sleeping before it after coming in from a canter before sunrise.

  June 22nd – Heavy rain fell, the thermantidote was stopped, and the tattīs taken down; nor were they replaced as the rain poured down almost night and day from that time until the end of the month.

  June 30th – We had a party at home: the thermometer during the day 88°; after dinner it rose to 91° in consequence of the numerous lamps in the rooms and the little multitude of servants in attendance.

  A list of servants in a private family

  Wages in rupees
per month

  A khānsāmān, or head man; a Musalmān servant who purchases the provisions, makes the confectionary, and superintends the table Rs 12

  The ābdār, or water-cooler; cools the water, ices the wines, and attends with them at table Rs 8

  The head khidmatgār; he takes charge of the plate chest, and waits at table Rs 7

  A second khidmatgār, who waits at table Rs 6

  A bāwarchī, or cook Rs 12

  Mate bāwarchi Rs 4

  Mashalchī; dishwasher and torchbearer Rs 4

  Dhobee, or washerman Rs 8

  Istree wālā, washerman for ironing Rs 8

  A darzee, or tailor Rs 8

  A second tailor Rs 6

  An ayah, or lady’s maid Rs 10

  An under woman

  A doriya; a sweeper, who also attends to the dogs Rs 4

  Sirdār-bearer, a Hindu servant, the head of the bearers, and the keeper of the sāhib’s wardrobe; the keys of which are always carried in his cummerbund, the folds of cloth around his waist Rs 8

  The mate-bearer; assists as valet, and attends to the lamps Rs 6

  Six bearers to pull the punkahs, and dust the furniture, etc., at Rs4 each Rs 24

  A gwala, or cowherd Rs 4

  A bher-i-wālā, or shepherd Rs 5

  A murgh-i-wālā, to take care of the fowls, wild-ducks, quail, rabbits, guinea-fowls and pigeons Rs 4

  A mālee, or gardener Rs 5

  A mate mālee Rs 3

  Another mate, or a coolly Rs 2

  A gram-grinder, generally a woman who grinds the chanā for the horses Rs 2

  A coachman Rs 10

  Eight sā’ises, or (grooms), at Rs 5 each, for eight horses Rs 40

  Eight grass-cutters, at Rs 3 each, for the above Rs 24

  A bihishti, or water-carrier Rs 5

  A mate bihishti Rs 4

  A Barha’ī mistree, a carpenter Rs 8

  Another carpenter Rs 7