Letters Written in a Mahratta Camp during the Year 1809

 


LETTER I

Introduction-March from Agra-Ruins of Kumal Khan's palace-Kagarol-Sepou-Baree-Moohuniedan tombs-Marauding chiefs-Hunting seat of Shah Jihan-Siree-Muttra-Dreary country-Visit of the Raja-Dholpoor Wukeel-March-Kiruolee-Bad weather-Halt.

KIRUOLEE, Dec. 26th, 1808.

        MY DEAR BROTHER,

 

        You have often urged me to give you some account of the people among whom I have been living for the last three years; and, when I have objected the dullness and uninteresting nature of the subject, you have replied, that those incidents, manners, and customs, which may, from habit, have lost all interest for myself, will at least possess the charm of novelty for you: especially as, since the late war in India, the Mahratta name has become more commonly known in England, and, consequently, all which relates to it an object of more general inquiry and attention. I have now resolved to gratify your curiosity; and have only to express a hope, that you will not find my former objections too well founded.

 

        Of the origin and early history of the Mahrattas so many accounts have been published, that it would be superfluous for me to dwell upon those points: and as a history of their empire is now, I understand, about to proceed from hands every way better qualified than mine to elucidate the subject, I shall confine myself to a simple narration of their manners and customs such as they appear to me.

 

        The end of my journey to the Company's provinces having been attained, I am now on my way back to resume my situation in the camp of Seendhiya; and as I carry with me a numerous train of servants, and a large quantity of supplies for the use of the Residency, I shall consequently travel sufficiently at my leisure to detail all the incidents of the march. After my arrival in camp, I propose to note down events as they arise, together with such observations as may occur to me, for your amusement. I must, however, premise two things: first, that you expect no political secrets, not merely because I have little opportunity of procuring authentic information on such topics, but because, if I had, you would derive no pleasure from reading a dry narrative of measures, the offspring of systematic meanness, bad faith and constitutional cunning. As the intrigues and common politics of a Mahratta Durbar are, however, always matters of public notoriety and discussion, I shall be able to lay before you enough of each to convey a tolerably correct idea of that policy and faith, which have become as proverbial in modern India, as those of Carthage were among the ancient Romans. Secondly, I must beg you always to bear in mind, that when an English gentleman undertakes to give an account of Indian manners and habits of private life, he labours under many disadvantages. The obstacles which prevent our ever viewing the natives of India in their domestic circles are great and insuperable; such as the restrictions of caste on their side, rank and situation on ours, &c. We do not intermarry with them, as the Portuguese did; nor do we ever mix with them, in the common duties of social life on terms of equality. What knowledge we have acquired of their domestic arrangements has been gained chiefly by inquiry; and hence we are often led to describe customs and institutions unfavourably, because our own prejudices render us incompetent to feel their propriety, or correctly to judge of their effects. These observations apply more particularly to the Mahrattas, with whom neither we ourselves, nor our Indian fellow subjects, have little else than merely a political intercourse. As it is probable, therefore, that I may often view things in an imperfect light, or perhaps with a prejudiced eye, I shall confine myself as much as possible to plain matters of fact, and leave you to draw your own conclusions. These two provisos being made, I now proceed to my narrative.

 

        On the 20th inst. I marched from Agra to a small village named Kagarol, a distance of about fourteen miles; the country flat and open, and pretty well cultivated; but with very few trees, except in the vicinity of three or four large villages which lay on either side of the road. I saw no tanks, nor any nalas or rivulets, which had water in them at this season; but several wells, from which alone the country seemed to be watered. About two miles from the cantonments at Agra are the ruins of a palace built by Kumul Khan, a nobleman of the Emperor Acbar's court. The buildings are all of a fine red stone; and some of them are still very perfect; especially a spacious boulee, or well, surrounded by a handsome circular building consisting of two tiers of arches, in each of which a pair of bullocks used to be employed to draw the water.

 

        On the 21st I marched about fifteen miles to Sepou, a village belonging to the Rana of Dholpoor, situated on the bank of the river Parbuttee. The villagers pointed out to me the remains of a mud fort called Roshungurh, which, they said, was once a place of considerable strength. They were civil and attentive, and willingly supplied me with wood, straw, and such other necessaries as I required for the use of my little camp. On this day's march I passed the boundary which separates the territories of the Company from those of the Rana of Dholpoor.

 

        On the 22nd I reached Baree, fourteen miles from Sepou, the second town, in point of consequence, in the Rana's dominions. The streets are narrow; but many of the houses, which are built of the red stone found in the neighbourhood, are two stories high, and have a greater appearance of comfort than is usual in Indian habitations. The town is surrounded by gardens, and groves of mango and tamarind trees. The Rana sometimes resides here; and has a good house within an enclosure, dignified with the appellation of the Fort, but which is nothing more than an open square space surrounded by a wall of red stone, and having round towers at each angle and centre. Baree has for many years been chiefly inhabited by Pithans; and some handsome Moohumedan tombs are still to be seen in the environs. The country on this side of Sepou is not so well cultivated as on the other; neither did I observe so many or so large villages. Provisions, however, are cheap for this part of the country; wheat flour selling at eighteen seers, and gram, a grain with which we feed our cattle, at twenty-four seers for the rupee: a seer is very nearly two pounds. An officer of the Rana's, who was himself at Dholpoor, waited upon me by desire of his master, and took care that I was plentifully supplied with every thing which I stood in need of. He informed me that an attack had been made upon the town a short time before by a party of plunderers in the service of Ram Pal and Bukhshee Goojur, two notorious marauding chieftains; and that they had been beaten off, with some loss, but were still encamped in the neighbourhood. In the afternoon I rode out to see a hunting seat built by the Emperor Shah Jihan. It is situated in the midst of an extensive plain, about two miles from the town. The palace is built upon the borders of a fine piece of water, formed by strong embankments faced with stone, along the top of which runs a wide and well paved terrace. At three angles of the embankment are as many handsome pavilions, each containing a complete suite of apartments; and on the northern bank is an enclosure, about a hundred and fifty yards square, which was formerly a garden surrounding the apartments allotted to the ladies. The whole of the buildings are faced with massy slabs of red stone, and are in very good repair.

 

        On the 23rd we had a tedious and disagreeable march of eighteen miles to Siree-Muttra; the residence of a petty Raja, a tributary of the Rana of Dholpoor. The road lay over rocks of the red stone, so common in this part of the country, covered only in a few places by shallow strata of mould. Near a cluster of little hamlets I saw some spots cultivated with inferior kinds of grain, a little sugar cane, castor, and cotton: the rest of the country was a perfect desert. Siree-Muttra is a pretty large town, built on a naked rock of red stone; of which material all the houses are constructed: so that, at a little distance, it is not easy to distinguish that there is any town at all. The houses are mean, and the streets so narrow, that it was with difficulty my elephant passed through without injuring the roofs. The chief occupation of the inhabitants seemed to be working the red stone into slabs, with which the whole country around is covered in such abundance, that it was some time before I could find a spot to pitch my tent upon. The Raja was very civil, and gave immediate orders for furnishing me with whatever I required. In the afternoon he came to wait upon me, attended by his Deewan or minister, and a Wukeel or envoy, of the Rana's. The Raja himself is a fat good-looking man, middle aged, and apparently not marked with any striking character: but his minister is a lively sensible old man, very inquisitive, and talked a great deal. He examined every thing about the tent; and seemed particularly pleased with a printed book, which lay upon the table; an art of which he appeared to have had before no conception. It happened to contain a portrait of Marquis Wellesley, which I showed to him: he instantly inquired if it was he who beat the Mahrattas; and when I told him it was, "it makes my heart quake to look at him" cried he, and shut the book. The Wukeel was going on a mission to Seendhiya's camp; and the main object of his visit to me was to ask permission to proceed under my protection. He had halted at Siree-Muttra for seven days, from a fear of falling in with the marauding chiefs: to one of whom, Bukhshee Goojur, he was particularly an object of hatred; having been the adviser of his dismissal from the Rana's service, and since placed in the very situation which the Bukhshee had filled. As I was aware of this, and had been informed that the Goojur was awaiting his arrival at Kiruolee, I did not at all relish the idea of this addition to my party. I told him, therefore, as politely as I could, that I should be most happy in his company; but as I had a large quantity of baggage, upwards of fifty camels and three elephants, and a numerous train of followers with me, and scarcely fifty Sipahees to protect them, it was important that I should become as little an object of jealousy to these people as possible; and therefore I recommended that we should move separately, and that he should wait for a more favourable opportunity of prosecuting his journey. He acquiesced; but seemed, I thought, still to harbour an idea of joining me at the next stage. You may judge in what estimation British soldiers are held here, when I tell you that this Wukeel, who wanted protection from my little detachment, had with him upwards of two hundred armed men. While my visitors stayed with me, they all expressed themselves in terms of high admiration of the prowess, humanity, and justice of the British Government; which alone, the Deewan said, seemed to understand and to practise the true art of ruling.  Above all things they commended our having crushed the intolerable power of the Mahrattas; and launched forth in unqualified praise of Lord Wellesley; whose character seems, amongst these rescued states, to have secured that veneration and esteem which his splendid talents and distinguished services so eminently entitled him to.

 

        On the 24th the road was so bad, that I with difficulty reached a small village on the Siree-Muttra territory, a distance of only eight miles, where I encamped for the day; and had the satisfaction to find that the Wukeel had given up his intention of joining me. Yesterday I reached this place [Kiruolee], after a march of fourteen miles. Soon after we started in the morning it began to rain, and continued to do so throughout the remainder of the day: in consequence of which, and the badness of the road, I did not get to the ground till past one o'clock, wet to the skin, cold and tired. The baggage did not arrive till two hours after; and, as the tents were by that time completely wetted, the people fatigued, and the cattle jaded, I resolved to halt to-day. Our supplies did not come from the town till late in the evening, and altogether it was the most comfortless Christmas Day I ever passed.  No people suffer more from cold and wet than the natives of India; at this season, they dress in clothes stuffed with cotton, and wrap themselves in shawls or quilts, according to their means. The poorer sort throw a coarse blanket over their shoulders, and, with their lower extremities always exposed, go about shivering and shaking in the most lamentable manner. They never dream of keeping themselves warm by exercise; but cower round the embers of a few burnt sticks, with more eagerness than we crowd about a fire in the severest weather: and should a shower of rain chance to fall, it renders them absolutely helpless.

 

        I shall take the opportunity of a messengers going off to camp, to send this account of my journey thus far. Wishing you many happy returns of the season, and a much merrier Christmas than I am likely to pass,

                                                                        I am,

                                                                              My dear brother,

                                                                                      &c. &c.

 

 

LETTER III

Description of a Mahratta camp-The Bazars-Tents-Mode of life-Liquors-Huts-The Jinsee and Brigades-Want of cleanliness-The Baruh Bhaees and Pindaras-The Shohdahs-Baboo Khan-Misery of the poor people-Children sold-Khuburdars-Soopoor; the Raja a Sukee Buo-Cold weather.

                                                                                       CAMP AT SOOPOOR, Jan. 14, 1809.

        NOTHING, having any claim to the appellation of a regular encampment, can well be less so than that of a Mahratta army. On marching days, the Beenee Wala, or quarter-master general, moves off at an early hour; and upon reaching the ground where the army is to encamp, he plants a small white flag, to mark the spot where the tents of the Muha Raj (the title by which any Hindoo prince is commonly designated), are to be pitched; and which collectively are termed the Deooree. The flags of the different Bazars, or markets, are then fixed as they arrive; always in the same relative situation to each other, and generally in as straight a line as the ground will admit of. The shops, called Dokans, are pitched in two lines running parallel to each other; and thus form one grand street from the front to the rear of the army. This street often extends from three to four miles; the Deooree being situated about three-fourths of the whole length from the front, having only the market called the Chuoree Bazar in its rear. The different chiefs encamp to the right and left of the principal street; generally, however, in the neighbourhood of some particular Bazar. Their respective encampments are made without the smallest attention to regularity, cleanliness or convenience: men, horses, camels, and bullocks are all jumbled together in a mass; which mass is surrounded on all sides by others of a similar nature, in a continued series of comfortless confusion. This forms what is termed the Bura Lushkur, or main army; and is generally about as many hundred yards in breadth, that is from flank to flank, as it is miles in length from front to rear; thus exactly reversing the order of encampment which obtains in the disciplined armies of Europe.

 

        The shops, which compose the Bazars, are mostly formed of blankets or coarse cloth stretched over a bamboo, or some other stick for a ridge pole, supported at either end by a forked stick fixed in the ground. These habitations are called Pals; and are of all sizes, from three to eight or nine feet high, and proportionally wide and long according to the circumstances of the owner. Under these miserable coverings not only are the goods exposed for sale, but the family of the shopkeeper resides throughout the year, and for many years together. The wealthiest merchants of the Bazars use these Pals; but the military men, and others attached to the camp, generally possess a dwelling of somewhat a more comfortable description, regularly made of two or three folds of cloth in thickness, closed at one end, and having a flap to keep out the wind and rain at the opposite one: these are dignified with the name of Ruotees, and come nearer to our ideas of a tent. The Ruotees, like the Pals, are of all descriptions and sizes; and most of the chiefs of the highest rank inhabit them. I do not believe that there are, throughout the camp, ten tents fashioned like our European marquees, even including those of the Muha Raj himself.

 

        After this account of the common dwellings of the Mahrattas, it will scarcely be necessary to add that they are total strangers to the comforts of domestic life. The Dii Penates are not among the deities whom they worship. The cheerful fire, and the clean hearth surrounded by smiling faces, are as much unknown to them as the brilliant drawing-room or the crowded theatre. They never feel even the solid and cheap comforts of a snug, room, or the light of a candle: but, in the cold weather, huddle round a miserable fire made of horse or cow dung, or dirty straw collected about their tents; and wrapping themselves up in a coarse blanket or cotton quilt, contrive, with the aid of a pipe of bad tobacco, to while away a few hours in listless indolence; when tired of smoking and chatting, they creep into their Pals, and are quickly in a state in which, at last, they need not envy the luxurious and refined European. In this manner do the more sober of them pass their evenings: but such as think that life is bestowed for superior enjoyments, and have a taste for more spirited modes of whiling it away, retire, at the approach of evening, to the arrack shop, or the tent of the prostitute; and revel through the night in a state of low debauchery, which could hardly be envied by the keenest votary of Comus and his beastly crew. Even these scenes of mirth and jollity are enacted in such tents as have already been described, and are exhibited to the eye through the medium only of half a dozen wicks immersed in thick gross oil, arranged in a dirty brass cruise, and which together scarcely afford as much light as a common English rushlight. The liquor sold in the shops is distilled from the fruit of a tree called Mouah: it is about as strong as common gin, and is impregnated with a smell and flavour that would turn the stomach of the stoutest porter in London. In this state it is termed Daroo; and when distilled over again, with a little care for the use of such as can afford it, Phool: four quarts of the former and two of the latter are sold for a rupee; and it is now common to see it exposed for sale in English bottles. An inferior kind of rum is also sometimes to be purchased in these shops at the same rate.

 

        At the door of every tent is a fire, such as I have before described; the smoke of which being too heavy to ascend into the air, spreads throughout the whole camp; where it serves to keep the people warm, to drive the flies away from the cattle, and to put out the eyes of all those who are unused to so gross an element.

 

        Such is the general picture of a Mahratta camp. Sometimes, indeed, when it is known that the army is to halt for any length of time, and there happens to be abundance of grass or trees in the neighbourhood, the people construct little huts for themselves; and enjoy, comparatively, a degree of comfort. This was the case during the rainy season of 1807, when Seendhiya lay for seven months before the fort of Rutgurh. The whole army then presented the appearance rather of a rustic city than a camp; and reminded us of that which is described by Gibbon as the residence of Attila in the wilds of Germany.

 

        The Jinsee, or park, forms a separate encampment, as do the brigades of regular infantry : these last always pitch in a square; or, as they term it here, a qilu; literally meaning a fort. Our station is in the rear of the whole; and we generally contrive to keep at the distance of about a mile from the army; their disgusting want of cleanliness rendering them most disagreeable neighbours. It is impossible to take a ride in the vicinity of the great camp without being poisoned by the stench arising from the carcases of horses, bullocks and camels, which no one takes the trouble to remove, and a variety of other nuisances; besides being interrupted by the crowds of people and cattle that go out every morning to forage, and return again in the evening.

 

        One of the most noted corps in the Muha Raj's army is a Risalu, or troop, called the Baruh B,haees, or twelve brothers; from that number of leaders which originally headed them. It is composed entirely of Mahrattas, or at least of inhabitants of the original territories of the Mahrattas in the Dukhun; and is reckoned the most unruly and licentious crew in the army, hardly even excepting the Pindaras themselves. The only difference between the two corps is, that the latter receive no pay whatever, supporting themselves entirely by plunder; while the Baruh Bhaees do receive a small monthly stipend, which is supposed to render them more amenable to the control of the prince in whose service they may be enlisted, and to keep their acts of violence and rapine within some bounds. This is, however, little else than a nominal distinction; for nothing in the shape of plunder was ever known to come amiss to a Baruh Bhaee. They had taken offence at some delay in issuing their salary about the time I went to the provinces last May, and quitted camp in a body; to which they only returned a few months ago. During their absence they supported themselves by plundering and laying under contribution the country wherever they went: and since their return, were so little able to throw off these congenial habits, that they became a source of terror and alarm to the whole country around, and even to the people of their own camp. At length the Muha Raj found it necessary to take some steps to reduce them to order: and accordingly, about three weeks ago, surrounded them by some corps of cavalry, two or three battalions and some guns; and declared his resolution to order a general attack to be made upon them. This threat would probably have been carried into execution, if they had not, in the most humble manner, implored his mercy, and solemnly promised a reformation of their manners-a promise which they most likely cannot, if they ever intended to keep. One of our Sipahees returning from leave of absence and several of the Hirkarus attached to the Dak, or Post, have been plundered by them since their reform. Such infringements of diplomatic rights pass unnoticed here; forbearance, sometimes to the most mortifying degree, being the general rule by which our conduct is squared in these cases.

 

        Another very distinguished corps in this motley camp, though not strictly speaking a military one, is that of the Shohdas: literally the scoundrels. They form a regularly organized body under a chief named Fazil Khan; to whose orders they pay implicit obedience. They are the licensed thieves and robbers of the camp; and from the fruits of their industry their principal derives a very considerable revenue. On marching days they are assembled under their leader, and act as porters for the Muha Raj's baggage. At sieges they dig the trenches, erect the batteries, and carry the scaling ladders. But their grand concern is the gambling houses, which are placed under their immediate control and superintendence; and where they practise all the refinements of accomplished villany to decoy and impose upon the unwary, which you perhaps fondly flatter yourself are the distinguishing excellencies of these establishments in Europe. Baboo Khan, a Mahratta chief of some rank and consideration, is an avowed patron of this curious society; and is in fact, though in a higher sphere, as accomplished a Shohda as any of the band. About a year ago, a merchant came to the camp with horses for sale: the Khan chose out some of the most valuable, and paid down the merchant's own price for them on the spot; desiring him, at the same time, to bring more, as he was about to increase the numbers of his own Risalu. Such unheard-of honesty and liberality induced other merchants to bring their horses also for sale: the Mahratta took them all at the prices demanded; but when the owners came for payment, he scoffed at them for their credulity, and had them actually beaten away from his tent by the rascally crew who always attend upon him. The merchants carried their complaint to the Muha Raj; and after waiting for several months in expectation of justice being done them, were paid at the rate of seven annas in the rupee; besides a deduction for the Buniyas, with whom the unfortunate fellows had been obliged to run in debt for subsistence during their stay in camp. The whole transaction lasted about a twelvemonth; at the end of which time they were obliged to decamp with less than one-third of what was strictly their due.

 

        Where such acts of injustice and oppression are committed with impunity, it is not wonderful that there should be much misery among the poorer orders of the community. When grain is dear, hundreds of poor families are driven to the most distressing shifts to obtain a bare subsistence. At such times I have often seen women and children employed in picking out the undigested grains of corn from the dung of the different animals about the camp. Even now, when grain is by no means at a high price (wheat being sold in the market for thirteen seers for the rupee), it is scarcely possible to move out of the limits of our own camp without witnessing the most shocking proofs of poverty and wretchedness. I was returning from a ride the other morning, when two miserable looking women followed me for charity: each had a little infant in her arms; and one of them repeatedly offered to sell hers for the trifling sum of two rupees. Many of our Sipahees and servants have children whom they have either purchased in this manner, or picked up begging among our tents. In adopting these little wretches, however, they have so often been taken in, that they are now more cautious in indulging their charitable propensities. The poor people of the army finding that a child, who told a piteous tale and appeared to be starving, was sure to find a protector in our camp, used, in hard times, to send their children out to beg; and when better able to support them themselves, would pretend to discover their lost infants, and reclaim them.

 

        There is a strange custom, which prevails at all Indian courts, of having a servant called a Khubur-dar, or newsman, who is an admitted spy upon the chief, about whose person he is employed; and whose business it is faithfully to report all his actions, of whatever nature, to his employer. Seendhiya has such an one in our camp; and we of course another in his. This latter is a perfect original. He has been in the service of the British residents for more than forty years; and in the course of so long a period has, as may be supposed, picked up a collection of anecdotes of the most extraordinary nature: most of them are entertaining enough; but many not over delicate, and perhaps not always restrained within the strict line of truth.

 

        Soopoor, near which place we are encamped, is the capital of a small principality belonging to Jypoor, and now possessed by a relation of the prince of that country. The present Raja has acquired the title of Sukee Buo, or the Dancing Lord; from his dancing, on particular festivals, before the image in the temple. This appellation is not peculiar to himself; but is always conferred upon such Hindoo princes as distinguish themselves by performing so laudable a piece of religious ceremony.

 

        The weather is becoming very cold; the thermometer having stood, at sunrise, for some days past at 31. We cannot, as you do, fly for warmth to the cheerful blaze of a fire; but we substitute for it, in the evening, a large chafingdish of live coals; over which we enjoy a bottle of old port with as keen a relish as you can do in the more northern climate. Adieu !

 


From: Broughton, Thomas Duer. Letters Written in a Mahratta Camp During the Year 1809. Westminster: Archibald Constable, 1902, 1-8 and 19-26.