Dacoits, or Gang-Robbers of India.
In India, under its native rulers, murder and robbery were hereditary professions. The Thugs, or hereditary murderers, have been completely put down; but the work of suppression has not yet been equally successful with regard to the hereditary robbers, as they ever found a ready harbour of refuge in the waste lands of the late kingdom of Oude, and, indeed, in every independent state. They usually lived in colonies, in the midst of wild jungles, difficult of access. With incredible rapidity they would sweep down on some distant town or village, plunder some house previously selected for the purpose, and before any pursuit could be organized they were far advanced on their homeward journey. To avert suspicion they assumed various disguises with admirable adaptability. North of the Jumna they generally travelled as holy-water carriers, because long files of that class of men were continually traversing the roads of that district. But to the south of the Jumna they appeared as Brinjaras, or drivers of laden bullocks, or as pilgrims journeying to some sacred shrine, or as sorrowing relatives conveying the bones of the departed to the banks of the Ganges; or as the friends of a bridegroom going to fetch home his bride. In the funeral processions to the "holy Gunga," men's bones were borne in red, those of women in white bags, neither of which were ever allowed to touch the earth, but at their halting grounds were suspended from the apex of a triangle formed by three short poles or staves. These were afterwards useful to the Dacoits as handles for the spear-heads which they carried in their waist-bands. Instead of the bones of their parents they contented themselves with those of inferior animals, wild or domestic. The chief advantage of this disguise was that such mourners were every where treated with the utmost respect, and never subjected to inconvenient inquiries as to whence they came or whither they were going. In Central India a more successful mummery was to assume the garb and appearance of Alukramies, a peculiar class of pilgrims, who travelled in small parties accompanying a high-priest—personated by the leader of the gang. "They had four or five tents, some of white and some of dyed cloth, and two or three pairs of Nakaras, or kettle-drums, and trumpets, with a great number of buffaloes, cows, goats, sheep, and ponies. Some were clothed, but the bodies of the greater part were covered with nothing but ashes, paint, and a small cloth waist-band. Those who had long hair went bare-headed, and those who had nothing but short hair wore a piece of cloth round the head." The pretended Alukramies always took the precaution of hiring the services of half a dozen genuine Byragees, or ascetics, whom they put forward in difficult emergencies. They would often stop for days together in one place, awaiting favourable tidings from the scouts they sent out in all directions. On arriving at a village the drums were beat and the trumpets sounded to announce their approach, and some of the party were sent in, with silver sticks, in the name of the high-priest to bring the headman to pay his respects and offer the established Nuzzurana of 1¼ rupee (two shillings and sixpence). If this offering were not punctually and promptly made, double the amount was exacted on the following day, and he must have been a bold man who would venture, by a refusal, to incur the displeasure of the gods. The landholder, or proprietor of the village, was also expected to furnish, gratuitously, a sufficient number of men to carry the tents, flags, drums, and trumpets of these pious cormorants, whose demands, however, were usually complied with without a murmur. They were distinguished from other wandering mendicants by "a large red flag upon a long pole, with the figure of Hunooman, or the Sun and Moon, embroidered upon it. On one occasion they (the Dacoits) prevailed upon Cheytun Das, a celebrated Byragee of Hindoon in Jyepore, then eighty years of age, to enact the high priest, and he was accompanied by his chief disciple, or son, Gunga Das."
There were various clans, or colonies, of Dacoits. The Budhuks lived in the Oude Teraie, or belt of forest land lying along the foot of the Nepaul hills, whence they made frequent incursions into the British territory, especially to the eastward in the direction of Goruckpore. They were men of low caste, and would eat anything but bullocks, cows, buffaloes, snakes, foxes, and lizards. Agricultural employments they abhorred as too toilsome. According to a familiar proverb, "once a Budhuk, always a Budhuk, and all Budhuks are Dacoits." Their leaders were almost invariably men of good descent: some of them affected to trace back their ancestors for twenty generations, and adduced their long impunity as a proof that they were predestined to be what they were, and that, consequently they could never be anything else. "The tiger's offspring," they would say, "are tigers—the young Budhuks become Dacoits." In their palmy days they were able to maintain ten or a dozen wives, but when misfortunes came upon them they were compelled to reduce the pleasing burden to four or five. And they were not altogether a burden, for each wife received in the division of spoil a sum equal to two-thirds of her husband's share. A penitent Budhuk once made the logical, but ungallant remark, that it was the women who ought to be transported, for then no more Budhuks would be born into the world. Nevertheless, in times of trouble the old women were not without their use. They would then assume the semblance of extreme poverty, and, mounted on wretched ponies, would travel many a long weary mile to the place where their relatives were confined, and by judicious presents to the native officers in authority, generally succeeded in mitigating the lot, if they failed to accomplish the release, of the prisoners. In this labour of love they not unfrequently expended between one and two hundred pounds. There were also Budhuks by adoption, but these were never allowed to eat with the hereditary robbers, though they might smoke the same hookah. As a matter of choice they preferred to avoid bloodshed, but in self-defence, or to secure the success of their attack they never scrupled either to wound or to slay outright. Shoojah-ood-Dowlah, Nawab of Oude, once attempted to direct their love of enterprise into an honorable channel by enrolling 1,200 of them into a corps, commanded by their own leaders. But their depredations became so intolerable that they acquired the appropriate epithet of the "Wolf Regiment," and as they were continually mutinying they were soon afterwards disbanded. A brief narrative of a few cases of Dacoitee committed by the Budhuks will give the best idea of the system they pursued.
In the early part of 1818 a powerful gang started from Khyradee in Oude with the intention of cutting off a treasure, escorted by sixty armed police, on the way from Benares to the westward. They disguised themselves as bird-catchers and took with them "falcons and hawks of all kinds, well trained, also mynas, parrots, and other kinds of speaking and mocking birds." They had also a boat prepared to convey them across the river. Having learnt from their scouts that the treasure would be lodged on a particular night in the Chobee-ka-Serai between Allahabad and Cawnpore, they fitted handles to their axes and spear-heads, and made some rude ladders by means of which, about two hours after dark, they scaled the wall of the Serai. "A guard which had been told off for the purpose broke open the gate from the inside and stood over it to prevent any attack from without, or escape from within, while the rest attacked the escort and secured the treasure." In this spirited affair the Dacoits killed eight and wounded seventeen of the police, carried off £7,600 in specie, and made their escape without the loss of a single man.
In April of the same year the Governor of Bharaitch forwarded to the General Treasury at Lucknow the sum of £2,600 in silver and £600 in gold mohurs, in two carts, escorted by thirty soldiers of the royal army. It was lodged, for one night, outside the gate of a small fort, two loaded guns commanding the only approach. A noted leader, named Naeka, with a gang of eighty Dacoits undertook to cut out the prize. First of all, he divided his followers into three parties. One division of twenty men rushed upon the guns and spiked them. A second, of equal force, fastened the gate of the fort with a strong chain to prevent the garrison from sallying forth; while the others boldly attacked the guard and killed four of them—two of their own party, however, being wounded. As they were returning in hot haste to their homes they were themselves assailed by two large land owners, who took from them £2,000 in rupees and the whole of the gold. They in their turn fell into the hands of the king's troops—Naeka and sixty of his associates being also apprehended. After six years' detention in the Seetapore gaol they were all released, the landowners paying a fine of £2,000 in addition to their booty, and the Dacoits a further sum of £1,000.
Fortune, certainly, did not always smile upon them, notwithstanding her proverbial partiality for the brave. Two gangs having united one day in May, 1819, attacked the house of Sah Beharee Lall, a rich banker, residing in the heart of Lucknow, the capital city of Oude. At first all went well with them, and they carried off upwards of £4,000 into a jungle not far from Khyrabad. A dispute then arose among the leaders respecting the division of the plunder, and one of them, thinking himself unjustly treated, rode off to Lucknow and gave information that led to the apprehension of two hundred men, women, and children. A long and tedious imprisonment awaited them, until in despair they rose upon their guard, in 1834, and seventy of them effected their escape, leaving five of their comrades on the ground, two of them being killed upon the spot. The others were released in 1839.
The boldness and suddenness of their onset usually assured their success. One evening in the month of February, 1822, a party of men, carrying canes in their hands, and about forty in number, were observed hurrying along in a loose straggling manner towards the military station of Nursingpore. On reaching the rivulet that separates the town from the cantonments they were challenged by the sentry—for a picket of soldiers was always posted on the bank, under a native officer. Carelessly answering that they were cowherds and that their cattle were coming on after them, they proceeded without molestation up the principal street, but suddenly halted in front of a shop of some pretensions. Striking their torches against pots containing combustible matter, with which they had previously provided themselves, they were instantly surrounded with a blaze of light. Already bewildered, the bystanders were terrified into silence by a few rapid thrusts of the spears, into which the canes had been instantaneously transformed. The house was rifled as if by magic, ten or a dozen persons were killed or wounded, and in a quarter of an hour from their entrance into the town, the Dacoits were on their way to the jungles. Within twenty paces on one side of the house was a police station, and not a hundred paces on the other side was the picket of sepoys already alluded to. But as marriage processions were just then of frequent occurrence, it was supposed that the noise and the glare of the torches belonged to those very uproarious festivities, until a little boy creeping along a ditch whispered to the native officer that they had killed his father. The alarm was immediately given, but before the troops could turn out, the Dacoits had got a fair start, which carried them beyond the reach of both horse and foot.
A bolder exploit was performed towards the close of that year. Two skilful leaders, having collected some forty followers and distributed among them ten matchlocks, ten swords, and twenty-five spears, waylaid a treasure going from the native Collector's treasury at Budrauna to Goruckpore. The prize consisted of £1,200, and was guarded by a Naïk, or corporal, with four sepoys and five troopers. It had to pass through a dense jungle, and it was settled—said one of them in after years—"that the attack should take place there; that we should have strong ropes tied across the road in front and festooned to trees on both sides, and, at a certain distance behind, similar ropes festooned to trees on one side, and ready to be fastened on the other, as soon as the escort of horse and foot should get well in between them." Having completed these preparations the gang laid down on either side of the road patiently awaiting their prey. "About five in the morning," continued the narrator, "we heard a voice as if calling upon the name of God (Allah), and one of the gang started up at the sound and said, 'Here comes the treasure!' We put five men in front with their matchlocks loaded not with ball but shot, that we might, if possible, avoid killing anybody. When we had got the troopers, infantry, and treasure all within the space, the hind ropes were run across the road and made fast to the trees on the opposite side, and we opened a fire in upon the party from all sides. The foot soldiers got into the jungle at the sides of the road, and the troopers tried to get over the ropes at both ends, but in vain." The corporal and a horse were killed, two troopers wounded, and the treasure carried off in spite of a hot pursuit.
One of the most famous Budhuk chiefs was named Maherban, who lived in his fort at Etwa in the Oude forest. He had seven wives, who frequently accompanied him in his expeditions, with the exception of his chief wife, from whom no such toils and risk were expected. Late in the autumn of 1818 he and his brother assembled about two hundred men, women, and children, and wisely settled beforehand the rates of division of plunder, setting aside a portion for the families of those who might die or be killed. They then sacrificed ten goats, and, each dipping a finger into the blood, swore mutual fidelity; after which they ate and drank and made merry. On the following evening Maherban and twenty of the principal Dacoits advanced a little way in front of the rest of the party, and spat in the direction they were about to pursue. Then raising his hands towards heaven Maherban thus prayed aloud:—"If it be thy will, O God! and thine, O Kalee! to prosper our undertaking, for the sake of the blind and the lame, the widow and the orphan, who depend upon our exertions for subsistence, vouchsafe, we pray thee, the call of the female jackal!" His followers likewise lifted up their hands, and having repeated the prayer after their leader, all sat down in attentive silence. The auspicious omen was presently heard three times upon the left. Thus assured of success, Maherban purchased a palanquin for his second wife—suitable for a man of wealth and dignity. The gang now started for Benares in small detachments, and took lodgings in different parts of that city where they stayed a whole month, making offerings and inquiries. Intelligence was at length received of a cartload of treasure going towards the west, under the care of an armed police force. On the first night of December the escort rested with their precious charge in a public Serai at Josee near Allahabad. Having procured staves for their spears and handles for their axes, the gang left the palanquin, their wives, and superfluous clothes, in a grove about four miles distant. At midnight they arrived at the Serai and were agreeably surprised to find the gate open. Here one detachment halted and mounted guard, while another overawed the police, and the rest plundered the treasure. A brave merchant, named Kaem Khan, likewise reposing in the Serai, in vain endeavoured to infuse courage into the panic-stricken escort by word and gesture. Disgusted with their pusillanimity he continued to lay about him with his long straight sword, wounding two of his assailants and severing in twain many a spear, until a Dacoit got behind him and felled him with a bludgeon, when he was quickly put to death. They then carried off twenty bags containing in all 14,000 Spanish dollars, and had their wounded men tended at a neighbouring village. As some compensation for their sufferings they presented each of them with £10 in addition to his share.
A career of triumph had the same effect upon Maherban as upon greater heroes: it made him indolent and luxurious, and his followers repined at their forced inactivity. "One day, while he was sitting with two of his wives, Mooneea and Soojaneea, they taunted him on the long interval of rest he had enjoyed, while his more active brother had been covering his followers and family with honour and money. 'You have,' said Soojaneea, 'been now some ten months without attempting any enterprise worthy your reputation; you are at your ease, and indulging in sports no doubt very agreeable to you, but without any honour or profit to us, while these your followers, men of illustrious birth and great courage, are suffering from want, and anxiety about their families. They have been told of a boat coming from Calcutta, laden with Spanish dollars; if you do not wish to go yourself and take it, pray lend us your swords, and we will go ourselves, and try what we can do, rather than let your brave fellows starve.' Maherban was deeply stung by these reproaches, and waxed very warm, but was too angry to make any reply to his wives. He got his followers together, and leaving his principal wife, Mooneea, behind him, he set out in the character of a chief of high rank, going on a pilgrimage, with Soojaneea carried in a splendid litter as a princess; and in four months they returned with some 40,000 Spanish dollars." While on his way homewards from this successful expedition he "gave a large sum of money to a gardener at Seosagur, about three miles from Saseram, to plant a grove of mango-trees near a tank, for the benefit of travellers, in the name of Rajah Maherban Sing, of Gour in Oude, and promised him further aid on future occasions of pilgrimage, if he found the work progressing well, saying, 'that it was a great shame that travellers should be left as he had been, without shade for themselves and their families to rest under, during the heat of the day.'" As he approached his forest home all the women went forth to meet him in holiday attire, and welcomed "the conquering hero"—and the dollars—with music and dancing.
Encouraged by this brilliant success Maherban resolved to proceed at the close of the season to Sherghottee to intercept another boat-load of dollars, which his spies told him was to be conveyed from Calcutta to Benares. First of all he engaged a discharged Sepoy to instruct his men in the Company's drill, and very apt scholars they proved themselves. But while this parade work was going on, one of them eloped with Heera Sing's pretty wife. The injured man straightway applied to Maherban for redress, but the chief was too busy with his preparations to attend to a merely personal affair, and probably deemed the loss of a reluctant wife no very serious matter. Heera Sing then betook himself to the other leaders, but failed to enlist their sympathy, for a man who cannot bind a wife by her affections deserves to lose her. Foiled at all points, he determined upon a large and base revenge: he gave information of Maherban's movements to the English magistrates.
Suspecting no treachery, Maherban at length set out as a Hindoo prince with a noble retinue, and attended by a numerous guard of soldiers dressed in the Company's uniform. Unfortunately for him and his followers, the Dacoitee of the previous year had been carefully tracked out and the guilt lodged at the door of the real criminals. Mr. Cracroft, the magistrate of Jaunpore, was accordingly authorized to proceed to surprise his fastness with four companies of native infantry under the command of Captain Anquetil. Their march was unmolested, and in the heart of a dense unhealthy jungle—though not so experienced by the Dacoits themselves—they came upon his fort, a parallelogram sixty yards long by forty wide. It was surrounded by a ditch with an embankment within, formed of the mud there excavated. At a short distance was another colony of about five hundred able-bodied Budhuks governed by Cheyda, Maherban's brother. These united with the few who had been left at home by the latter, and opened a warm but ill-directed fire upon the troops, as they advanced with cheers to the assault. The simple works were carried at the first rush, and whatever was combustible was committed to the flames. But it was impossible to follow up the retreating Dacoits, and having inflicted this trivial injury Captain Anquetil had no alternative but to extricate his detachment from their dangerous position, and return to head-quarters. Meanwhile measures were taken by the magistrates at Jaunpore, Behar, and Benares, to intercept and arrest the gang under Maherban himself. That chief was artfully induced to leave the high road and make a pilgrimage to Gunga. Here he was given to understand that there was an informality in the payment of customs' dues, and that he must halt until the matter could be adjusted. While encamped in a mango grove he was suddenly surrounded by the police, but still imagining that his apprehension was entirely due to the supposed irregularity, his followers offered no resistance, and only discovered their mistake on being committed for trial as robbers and murderers. Maherban himself was hanged in 1821, and the whole of his gang, 160 in number, imprisoned for life or for limited periods.
After Maherban's execution his principal widow Mooneea succeeded to the government of the survivors of his colony. In the autumn of 1823 the adventurous dame joined some noted leaders in fitting out an expedition, consisting of eighty men and seven women, with the intention of cutting off a treasure party going to Katmandoo. Having taken the auspices in the usual manner, but actually guided by their pre-determination, they moved in small parties towards Junnukpore in the Nepaul territory. While travelling in disguise, some of them fell in with a detachment of eighty Goorkhas (Nepaul highlanders) escorting fifteen bullocks laden with 64,000 rupees (£6,400). Two of them contrived to attach themselves to the escort, while the others separated to collect their comrades. When about fifty had got together they resolved to make the attack without waiting for the others. The guard lodged that night about twelve miles from Jungpore, in a place surrounded by a wall and ditch, outside of which was an encampment of nearly 500 merchants, itinerant traders, and other travellers. The night was clear and bright, but they nevertheless kindled their torches, and with the aid of two stout ladders hastily constructed, effected an entrance, surprised the guard, and possessed themselves of the treasure. It was too cumbersome, however, to be all carried off at once, and they were consequently obliged to bury about 17,000 rupees. The news of this outrage having reached the Nepaul military station of Jalesur, all suspicious persons were detained, and among them some members of the gang who, under the lash, confessed their complicity and led to the arrest of twenty-nine others, and to the death of two, who foolishly resisted. These also being subjected to the lash pointed out the caches where the 17,000 rupees had been buried, and 35,000 more were found upon their persons: the others got off with the rest of the treasure. The information obtained from the prisoners furnished the clue to the apprehension of a vast number of Dacoits whom the Oude authorities threw into prison without undergoing even the form of a trial. With like irregularity some of them were released as a Khyrat, or "thanksgiving to God," whenever the King or any member of the royal family recovered from an illness.
The scanty remnants of this last gang finding their former fastnesses no longer secure, fled for refuge to the Rajah of Kottar within the British territories, who readily accepted their presents, and in return promised them his protection. From these new head-quarters they frequently sallied forth, and joining their old comrades, made inroads into Rohilcund and the Doab. Being unable to plunder in western Oude, because the landowners in their strongholds defied both king and Dacoits, they confined their depredations to the Company's territories, and so constantly attacked and plundered the treasuries of the native collectors, that the Government was compelled to fortify them and impose a guard. Even this did not always prevail, and large sums of money were oftentimes carried off, after the guard had been surprised and overpowered.
The Budhuks dwelling in the eastern part of the Teraie were better known as Seear Marwars, and were originally husbandmen, but took to Dacoitee in the Nawabship of Shoojah-ood-Doolah. They numbered in all from four to six thousand males, but were divided into colonies of three or four hundred each, clustered round a rude fort. They were in the habit of giving 25 per cent. of their booty to the Zemindars whose protection they enjoyed, and by whom they were generally subsidized to fight their battles with their neighbours, or with the farmers of the revenue. In 1826-27 Mr., now Sir, Frederick Currie, the magistrate of Goruckpore, organised a system of repression by means of a corps of Irregular Cavalry under Major Hawkes, and an augmentation of his own police force. That gentleman flattered himself that he had completely put down this tribe of Dacoits, but, in fact, he had only driven them into another district. Their old haunts no longer sheltering them from pursuit, they removed their household gods to Rohilcund, the Doab ("Mesopotamia"), Rajpootana, and Gwalior. The Budhuk colonies, however distant from one another, kept up an interchange of civilities and intermarried with one another. Members of the same gote, or family, though belonging to different colonies, could not intermarry, but as there were several gotes in every colony, the different settlements could interchange sons and daughters. For instance Solunkee ("Mr. Brown") could not marry a person of the same name in his own, or in any another colony, but there was no objection to his taking to wife the daughter of Powar ("Mr. Jones,") or Dhundele ("Mr. Robinson") however closely they might be connected with him.
Mr. Currie certainly did succeed in momentarily checking the depredations of the plunderers in his own district, but within three years the evil had returned to its former dimensions. And of these some idea may be formed from the statement that between 1818 and 1834, the Budhuks of the Oude Teraie were known to have committed 118 Dacoitees, in which 172 men were killed, 682 wounded, and property carried off to the value of nearly £115,000: although 457 of the miscreants were arrested, only 186 could be legally convicted. But the actual number of gang-robberies far exceeded that which was reported. Many of the Dacoits boasted that they had been engaged in a dozen or fifteen expeditions. One of them confessed to Mr. Hodgson, in 1824, that he had participated in seven Dacoitees, yielding a total of £36,900. A noted leader, named Lucka, was engaged in forty-nine, in the course of twenty-five years, some of them taking place at a distance of four or five hundred miles from his home. A Chumbul Dacoit confessed to thirty-eight in twenty-seven years, and another to twenty-three in twenty-two years; and another Oude Budhuk to thirty-nine in thirty-three years. They generally commenced at an early age, from eighteen to twenty, according to the vigour of their constitution. Lucka, of whom mention is made above, was arrested under the disguise of a Byragee, his body smeared with ashes and a house of peacock's feathers on his back: but the restlessness of his eye, and the nervous movements of his limbs betrayed him. Arrest and punishment, however, were always endured with commendable resignation, being considered as the accidents of their profession.
The achievements of Bukshee and other leaders soon proved the fallacy of Mr. Currie's complacent belief in the efficacy of his repressive measures. In November, 1830, Bukshee's gang slowly travelled through Oude, in the disguise of Ganges water-carriers, moving in small parties and encamping in groves to avoid unpleasant interrogatories. Arriving at the frontiers, they gradually concentrated towards Sursole in the Cawnpore district, where they were informed by their spies that a private treasure was on its way from Mirzapore to Furruckabad. Having cut handles for their axe and spear heads, they crossed the Ganges in a boat previously purchased for the occasion, and worked by two well-disposed ferrymen. After reaching the opposite bank they had still ten miles to go, so that it was almost midnight before they attained their destination. A sudden rush was all that was then necessary, though to increase the panic caused by their irruption they deemed it expedient to wound six or seven of the escort. Breaking open the boxes, they abstracted twenty-five bags, each containing 1000 rupees (in all, £2,500), and made off to the river. But by that time it was daylight, and the ferrymen had run their boat under the shelter of a high bank, and were fast asleep. Afraid to make a noise by hallooing to them, the Dacoits buried their treasure in the sands and dispersed themselves among the neighbouring villages until nightfall. In the meantime the police had discovered their boat, but being assured by the men that it had brought over only some fodder for cattle, they immediately gave it up. Soon after sunset the robbers met at the appointed rendezvous, where they found the boatmen anxiously expecting them. So, digging up the treasure, they went on board and were safely ferried over to the other side, presenting each of these men with fifty rupees.
About the same season of the following year Bukshee again took the field in his old disguise, and moved down to Allahabad. This was the place of rendezvous for the different detachments, and here they made their offerings to the gods, and received the blessings of the priests and prayers for success in all their undertakings. They then returned to the left bank and dropped down the river till they came opposite to Bindachul, where there stood a celebrated temple to Davee. Again crossing to the right bank they worshipped at the shrine of the goddess of destruction, and were rewarded for their devotion by the intelligence that a merchant's shop in Mirzapore, only four miles distant, promised a rich booty. Accordingly, so soon as it was dusk they advanced two miles in that direction, and throwing off their disguise concealed themselves in a hollow till past eight o'clock to allow the streets to get empty. Then they hurried on to the town and stopped before the house chosen for their operations, every avenue to which was guarded by parties told off for that purpose. Suddenly lighting their torches they rushed in at the still open door, stabbing and slashing right and left, and carried off between four and five thousand pounds sterling. A few minutes afterwards they were again clear of the town. Returning to their place of concealment they resumed their garments, hastened thence to the river, and presented each of the boatmen with a hundred rupees for conveying them safely across. In due time they reached their forest homes without hurt or molestation. Connected with this expedition there occurred a characteristic incident. To avoid disputes Bukshee had stipulated before hand that he should receive one-fifth of the plunder in addition to his proper portion and the repayment of the outlay he incurred in fitting out and maintaining the gang, in order to ransom his parents who had been detained in the gaol at Lucknow for the last twelve years. He was no doubt sincere in his intention to apply these funds in the manner he had stated, but unhappily he had several wives, who somehow absorbed the whole amount, and his parents accordingly remained in confinement. When reproached with having obtained the money under fraudulent pretences, Bukshee excused himself by the patriotic remark that his father was now too old to be of any service to the colony: he did not, however, offer to refund the eight thousand rupees he had thus obtained.
The Dacoits do not appear to have possessed the honour that is supposed to exist among thieves in so high a degree as the Thugs. A notable instance of the laxity of their mutual engagements was furnished about the same time that Bukshee successfully defrauded his followers. A gang of forty Dacoits, under two brothers, named Hemraj and Mungul Sing, and their cousin Dhurmoo, were lying at Sherghottee, in the hope of intercepting a treasure then on the way from Calcutta to Benares. Here they were joined, much against their inclination, by a party of fourteen under Ghureeba, who threatened to inform against them unless they agreed not only to admit him into partnership, but also to set aside a proportionate share of the plunder for a gang of twenty-five under Bureear, from whom he had recently parted. After considerable altercation Ghureeba carried his point, and the convention was ratified by oaths of mutual fidelity. Then they all went on together to the village of Dungaen, at the foot of the hills, where they attacked the treasure-party at night, and, after killing four and wounding sixteen of the escort, carried off twenty-eight bags, each containing 2,500 rupees (in all, £6,000). Hemraj and Mungul Sing now adhered so far to their previous engagements, that they allowed to Ghureeba and the absent Bureear the shares to which they were entitled, but refused to burden themselves in behalf of a party who had rendered them no assistance. Ghureeba expostulated with them to no purpose, and declared he would hold them answerable for the whole amount. After some further jangling, it was finally arranged that 30,000 rupees should be buried until Bureear could fetch them himself, and this labour was voluntarily undertaken by Mungul Sing. On their return home, Bureear displayed such indignation at their unfriendly conduct that they were constrained to pacify him with a present of 2,000 rupees, and a month afterwards Mungul Sing and some others set out with him to dig up the treasure. But instead of 30,000, they found only 18,000 rupees. As might be expected, this discovery of the treachery of his associates did not tend to mollify the already exasperated Bureear. In his wrath he applied for redress to Rajah Gung Sing, of Dhera Jugdeespore, in the kingdom of Oude, and appointed him arbiter. The Rajah proposed to decide the question by an appeal to heaven, and to this Mungul Sing and his party were compelled to assent. A blacksmith was thereupon ordered to make some cannon-balls red hot, and these were placed with tongs on the palms of the suspected persons' hands, defended only by a thin peepul leaf. The ordeal was to carry these balls a certain distance without being burned, but after taking a few paces they all gave in. They were consequently pronounced guilty, and were sentenced to refund the money they had purloined, and to pay a fine of 500 rupees to the Rajah. In default of restitution, they were delivered over in irons to Bureear, who kept them in confinement for several months, and threatened to cut off their ears unless they made good his loss. But, finding that his own followers were opposed to any further severity, he prudently connived at their escape. "The hands of Boohooa, who afterwards rose to the distinction of a leader, still (1849) bear the marks of the burning he got; and, in showing them to me (Captain Sleeman) one day, he confessed that the 'decision of the Deity' in that case was a just one; that he had really assisted Mungul Sing in robbing Ghureeba on that occasion of 10,000 rupees, by burying them in a pit at some distance from the rest; and that he, Nundran, and another of the party, afterwards helped themselves to three out of the ten thousand, unknown to Mungul Sing." What became of the two thousand still unaccounted for—the total deficiency being 12,000—he was unable to say.
The same Bukshee, of whom so much has already been said, was informed by his spies, in January, 1833, that the ex-Peishwah Bajee Rao had hoarded a large amount of gold coin at Bithore, on the right bank of the Ganges, not far from Cawnpore. He accordingly assembled a numerous band of Dacoits, who, after receiving their instructions, broke up into small parties, which concentrated at a particular spot at the appointed time. They then boldly stormed the ex-Peishwah's palace, wounded eighteen of his servants, and carried off 50,000 rupees in silver and 15,000 gold mohurs, each worth fifteen rupees. As they approached their homes they were met by their female relatives in triumphant procession, to whom they made a largesse of fifteen mohurs and twenty rupees to lay out in sweetmeats for themselves and their children. On the following day every man in the village received five gold mohurs, seven rupees, and two four-anna pieces (worth sixpence a piece). A series of the most shocking debaucheries ensued, which resulted in the death of Chunda, the second leader of the gang. Six months afterwards the Oude authorities surprised the colony, when Bukshee and a hundred of his followers were put to the sword, and nearly three hundred taken prisoners; a considerable quantity of plunder was seized at the same time. The Budhuks, however, were soon released, and the king even entertained the idea of restoring the recovered property to its rightful owner. But the queen is said to have suggested to his majesty "that if he suffered the ex-Peishwah to recover his property in this way, he would expose himself to a demand from the honourable company for all that had been taken by gangs from the same colonies in their attacks upon numerous public treasuries and private storehouses in all parts of their dominions, and add to the grounds already urged for depriving him of his country; but that if he allowed the property to be quietly, the noise about it would soon cease, while he would escape all further responsibility and odium." Her majesty's advice was both too prudent and too palatable to be lightly rejected, and the property was, accordingly, "quietly absorbed."
A yet more dashing, though not equally profitable enterprise was that of the famous Budhuk chief, Gujraj, in 1839. In the absence of the Rajah of Jhansi, who had gone with nearly all his armed retainers to a marriage festival in the Duteea Rajah's family, Gujraj, with fifty followers, scaled the wall of that town, attacked the bankers' shops, killed one man and wounded another, and finally got off unmolested with £4,000 worth of plunder. This leader was warmly patronised by the Rajah of Nurwur, who had always half a dozen of his men to guard him while he slept.
In Rajpootana, Gwalior, and Malwa the Dacoits called themselves Bagrees, or Bagorras. This clan numbered about 1,200 families, principally settled, or rather bivouacked, on the banks of the Chumbul. Of their proceedings less is known than concerning those of their Oude brethren. They were greatly favoured by the native princes and powerful landholders, and even when they were seized their punishment seldom went further than a compulsory restitution of the stolen property. They rarely insulted women beyond demanding of them their gold and silver ornaments, and their reckless liberality made them so popular with the poorer classes that when some of the petty princes were urged by the Indian Government to take steps to put down Dacoitee within their respective territories, they excused themselves on the ground that it would cause a revolution. They were, besides, much prized as auxiliaries in the state of perpetual warfare that existed among these independent princes. When the Alwar Chief, in 1783, renounced his allegiance to the Rajah of Jyepore, his sword and shield was Kishna, the great Bagree leader. At a later period, his grandson, Bijee Sing, rendered an important service to the lord of Alwar, for which he received an estate worth 4,000 rupees a year, rent free for ever. The commander of the Jyepoor forces had reduced the Alwar Chief to great straits, when the latter invoked the aid of Bhart Sing and Bijee Sing, who came to his assistance with 500 Bagrees, resolute and well armed men. The Manukpoor Gotra estate was offered as a reward to any one who would assassinate the enemy's leader. The Dacoits accepted the adventure. "Bhart Sing approached the tent at night with only four or five followers, whom he left outside. He entered the tent, and found the minister asleep and entirely defenceless. He could not kill a man in that state, and taking up his sword, shield, and turban, which lay by the bedside, he returned with them to Bijee Sing, saying that he could never stab a brave man in that defenceless state. Bijee Sing then went, entered the tent which was still without a sentry, and stabbed the minister to the heart."
At another time the Rajah of Kerowlie engaged a small band of Bagrees to assist him in besieging his cousin the Thakoor Luchmun Sing, in the city of Ameergur. "The duty assigned to us"—said one of them—"was to cut off all supplies, and at night to attack the advanced batteries thrown out by the garrison upon elevated places. The commandant allowed us to select as many as we wanted of his best soldiers on whose courage we could most rely, and we generally took about the same number as we ourselves. We then reconnoitred the strongest batteries, sometimes in the daytime in all manner of disguises, sometimes at night creeping along the ground like wild animals, till we got up close to them, and saw all that we wanted to see. After we had become well acquainted with the positions, in three or four days we entered upon the attack. Well armed with swords, shields, and spears, and some with muskets, we advanced close to the ground till we got so near that we could rush in upon them before the enemy could deliver their fire. No man is permitted to carry a matchlock on such occasions; nor do we, indeed, ever carry them in our enterprises, because the light of the matches might warn people of our approach and bring their fire upon us. When within the proper distance the signal is given, and we start up, and rush in, and kill every man we can. There are always supporting parties of troops close behind us, to follow up our attack and keep possession of the surprised batteries. In this way we in one night surprised and took three of the batteries which Luchmun Sing had placed upon a hill near his fort. The night was dark, and we attacked them all at the same time. We were about forty Bagrees, and we had with us about sixty select soldiers, and for each battery we had from thirty to thirty-five men; but we knew every inch of the ground we were to act upon, and we could rely upon each other. We on such occasions stop all supplies that they try to get into the besieged fort. We watch for several nights and permit the people to take in all they please unmolested; and when we know all the roads by which the supplies go in, we attack them all in one night, and are allowed to keep what we get for ourselves."
These Bagrees were as scrupulously devout in their way as the Italian banditti are said to be, whom they resembled in more than one point. Ajeet Sing, the leader of a Chumbul gang, in describing a Dacoitee that had yielded 40,000 rupees, went on to say:—"Four thousand five hundred rupees were taken to cover the expenses of the road, to offer to the gods who had guided us, and to give in charity to the poor. For offerings to the gods we purchase goats, sweet cakes, and spirits; and having prepared the feast, we throw a handful of the savoury food upon the fire in the name of the gods who have most assisted us; but of the feast so consecrated, no female but a virgin can partake. The offering is made through the man who has successfully invoked the god on that particular occasion; and as my god had guided us on this, I was employed to prepare the feast for him, and to throw the offering on the fire. The offering must be taken up before the feast is touched, and put upon the fire, and a little water must be sprinkled upon it. The savoury smell of the food as it burns, reaches the nostrils of the god and delights him. On this, as on most occasions, I invoked the spirit of Gunga Sing, my grandfather, and to him I made the offering. I considered him to be the greatest of all my ancestors as a robber, and him I invoked on this trying occasion. He never failed me when I invoked him, and I had the greatest confidence in his aid. The spirits of our ancestors can easily see whether we shall succeed in what we are about to undertake; and when we are to succeed, they order us on,—and when we are not, they make signs to us to desist."
The same Ajeet Sing described a singular superstition that existed among the Bagrees. One of his comrades happened to be severely wounded on the wrist, and became so faint from loss of blood that he was obliged to be carried. As he passed under a Banyan tree, "the spirit of the place fell upon him, and the four men who carried him fell down with the shock." The phenomenon was thus explained. "If any man who has been wounded on the field of battle, or in a Dacoitee, be taken bleeding to a place haunted by a spirit, the spirit gets very angry and lays hold of him: he comes upon him in all manner of shapes, sometimes in that of a buffalo, at others in that of a woman, sometimes in the air above, and sometimes from the ground below; but no one can see him except the wounded person he is angry with and wants to punish. Upon such a wounded person we always place a naked sword, or some other sharp steel instrument, as spirits are much afraid of weapons of this kind. If there be any good conjuror at hand to charm the spirits away from the person wounded, he recovers, but nothing else can save him. When the spirit seized Gheesa under the tree, we had unfortunately no conjuror of this kind, and he, poor fellow! died in consequence. It was evident that a spirit had got hold of him, for he could not keep his head upright; it always fell down upon his right or left shoulder as often as we tried to put it right, and he complained much of a pain in the region of the liver. We therefore concluded the spirit had broken his neck, and was consuming his liver."
Dead bodies were usually burned, and the ashes thrown into the sacred stream. Sometimes this could not be done, as, for instance, when one died upon an expedition, and there was no time or means to make a funeral pyre. In such cases the body would be hastily buried, or, as once occurred, thrust into a porcupine's hole, and some of the fingers cut off and carried home to the sorrowing relatives. The part was then burned for the whole, and the gang presented a widow with money to distribute in alms, and enabled her to make a handsome offering to the family priest. Each colony had two or three especial deities, who were the spirits of ancestors distinguished in the "imperial business," as they proudly designated their vocation. When they desired to know who of their forefathers was the most sympathetic, the most interested in their welfare, they carefully noted the incoherent ravings of a delirious man, or one suffering from epilepsy. His rambling talk was attributed to the temporary possession of his tongue by some departed spirit. If there were any doubt as to whose it was, the family priest, or a relative of the sick man, would throw on the ground a few grains of wheat, or coloured glass beads, mentioning the name of some ancestor, and at the same time crying odd or even. If they cried correctly two or three times consecutively, they had discovered the demigod. They then sacrificed a goat, or some other animal, that the pleasant odour of the culinary operations might gratify the nostrils of the "daimon," while the assembled friends loudly sang his praises. If the patient began to amend during the sacrifice, it was deemed a full confirmation of their belief, and a new "Lar familiaris," or household god was added to the polytheism of the colony.
The chief deities worshipped by the Dacoits in common were Kalee or Davee, and Sooruj Deota or Sun God. Before setting out upon an expedition, they were always careful to take the auspices; which was done in this manner. Having procured several goats, the principal men assembled, and while one of them held some water in his mouth, the others prayed, "O thou Sun God! And O all ye other gods! if we are to succeed in the enterprise we are about to undertake, we pray ye to cause these goats to shake their bodies!" If they do not shake them after the gods have been thus duly invoked, the enterprise must not be entered upon, and the goats are not sacrificed. "We then try the auspices with the wheat; we have a handful of wheat, a large shell, a brass jug, cloth, and frankincense (gogul), and scented wood (dhoop) to burn. We burn the frankincense and scented wood, and blow the shell; and taking out a pinch of the grains, put them on the cloth and count them. If they come up odd, the omen is favourable; if even, it is bad. After this, which we call the auspices of the Akut, we take that of the Seearnee, or female jackal. If it calls on the left, it is good; if on the right, it is bad. If the omens turn out favourable in all three trials then we have no fear whatever; but if they are favourable in only one trial out of the three, the enterprise must be given up."
The Bowrees appear to have been an off-set of the Bagree Dacoits. They affected to be descended from Rajpoots, but in truth very little is known as to their origin. Their peculiar dialect, however, was Guzerattee, though for generations past they had not even visited that province, but the circumstance is in favour of the theory that traces them to Chittore, the capital of Mewar, adjacent to Guzerat, whence they are believed to have emigrated when Akhbar captured that city in 1567. According to the deposition of Dhokul Sing, made in 1839, the Bowrees were "not a people of yesterday—we are of ancient and illustrious descent." Their ancestor, Pardhee, was one of the companions of Ram in his expedition for the recovery of Seeta. "If," said this approver, "if any prince happens to have an enemy that he wishes to have made away with, he sends for some of our tribe, and says, 'Go, and bring such or such an one's head.' We go, and steal into his sleeping apartments, and take off the person's head without any other person knowing anything about it. If the prince wanted, not the head of his enemy, but the gold tassels of the bed on which he lay asleep, we brought them to him. In consequence of our skill in these matters, we were held everywhere in high esteem; and we served princes and had never occasion to labour at tillage. We who came to the Delhi territory (they were mostly located about Delhi, Mozuffernugur, and Meerut), and were called Bowrees, took to thieving. Princes still employed us to take off the heads of their enemies, and rob them of their valuables. At present the Bowrees confine themselves almost exclusively to robbing tents; they do not steal cattle, or cut into ("dig through") houses; but they will rob a cart on the highway occasionally—any other trade than robbery they never take to." During the absence of the men on some thriving expedition, their wives and families were protected and maintained by the Zemindar, on whose land they resided, and who likewise was ever ready to advance a small sum of money to enable his respectable tenants to take to the road—secure of repayment with usury. Before setting out they sacrificed a goat to Davee, and offered burnt offerings.
They also presented sweetmeats to the goddess, and vowed no stinted quantity should they return successful from their wanderings. To omens they paid great regard. A couplet in familiar use among them was to the effect, that "if the cow and the deer cross from the left to the right, and the snake from right to left, and the blue jay from left to right, even the wealth that has gone from thee shall come back."
Of the cognate tribes of Sanseea and Bereea Dacoits some interesting details may be gathered from the official reports of the Commissioners for the suppression of Dacoitee. According to tradition there lived a long time ago, in the province or Mharwar, two uterine brothers named Sains Mull and Mullanoor. Sains was very illiterate and found it extremely difficult to earn a livelihood by his own exertions. So he went to the god Bhugwan and represented his case. The deity heard him with compassion and gave him an order upon every village in the world for the payment of half a crown from each. Returning home the foolish fellow showed the paper to his brother, who, moved by envy, tore it in pieces. A fraternal squabble naturally ensued, which at length terminated by both of them repairing to Bughwan. But the god declined to give a second order, and advised Mullanoor to assume the life of a mendicant, while his brother was to maintain himself by singing and dancing. From the former were descended the Bereeas, who wandered about the country, playing the dhol (a kind of drum), begging and stealing: the men and women living together in a promiscuous state of extreme socialism. The descendents of the other brother were called Sanseeas, also a roving tribe, pretending to deal in cattle, goats, horses, cloth, grain, or anything else that came into their hands. They were generally in great request as Bhâts, or Bards at the marriage festivals of the Jats. Their business was to trace the lineage of their entertainer to the founders of the Jat family, and celebrate the heroic virtues of his ancestors. If the host proved a niggard, and refused to comply with the exorbitant demands of these vagabond minstrels, they would make an effigy of his father and parade it up and down before his house;—or even, in extreme cases, suspend it from a bamboo and fix it over his door, by which means he temporarily lost caste, so that none of his neighbours would drink or smoke with him. In former times these Bhâts almost lived upon the Jats, each claiming, as his peculiar province, fifty or a hundred families who, in succession, gave him yearly one day's food and two shillings and sixpence in money. The Sanseeas were divided into two sub-clans, the Malhas and the Kalkas—the former being descended from Sains Mull's son, and the latter from his grand-daughter by an adopted son. A Malha could not marry a Malha, nor a Kalka a Kalka, but the young men of the one family chose their wives from among the young women of the other. Originally the Sanseeas confined themselves to mendicancy, minstrelsy, and cattle-lifting, but after a time, emboldened by poverty or impunity, they took to Dacoitee, which they reduced to a regular system.
In their expeditions they left their old men and women, and their children at home, under the protection of a friendly Zemindar, but took with them a few young women and such as had children at the breast, with a view to avert suspicion. When they arrived within two days' march of the scene of their projected operations, the main body halted, while the leader with a small party of followers, male and female, went on to reconnoitre and make the necessary preparations. Their usual plan was to enter a liquor shop, and while purchasing some spirits, to ask the name of some respectable money-changer or banker. They thus learnt the address of the one who was esteemed the wealthiest. On the following morning at early dawn they repaired to his shop, because at that hour he would be obliged to go to his treasure-chest, whereas, later in the day he would have a small supply of money beside him for ordinary business. Having now ascertained where his hoard was deposited, and such other particulars as might be useful, they proceeded to the bazar and procured a sufficient quantity of bamboos for spear-staves. These they buried near the town on their way back to the camp. All things being ready they took some spirituous liquor and spilling a little on the ground, prayed aloud: "O Davee! Mother! If we succeed in our business and get a good deal of booty, we will make a grand poojah (religious festival) to thee, and offer thee a cocoa-nut!" The goddess being propitiated, the next step was to assign to every man his particular post: some to act as scouts, others to guard the avenues, others again to rush into the house, while the Jemadar, or leader, reserved to himself the task of breaking open the money-chest with his trusty hatchet. Early next morning they advanced to an easy distance of the place, and some of them went forward for the spear-staves buried on the previous day. A Sanseea, of approved tact and intelligence again entered the town to purchase oil for the torches, and to make the final reconnoissance. So soon as darkness descended, the gang threw off their clothes and started at a rapid pace, without once looking behind. If they had reason to expect that the local police would be vigilant—a rare occurrence—they concealed their spears in a bundle of reeds or coarse straw, which one of them carried on his head, followed by another to personate the purchaser of the fodder. On arriving in front of the shop, the bundle was thrown on the ground, the cord hastily loosened, the spears extracted and the torches lighted. Then the Jemadar invoked the aid of his patron deity and vowed a grateful offering if the chest should at once yield to his blows. Raising their war-cry Deen! Deen! they furiously assaulted the bystanders, pelting them with stones, striking them with their spears, and even wounding them if obstinate. The Jemadar, the torch-bearers, and four or five determined men, under favour of the tumult, broke into the house, smashing doors and all other impediments. In a few minutes afterwards the house was abandoned by the unwelcome intruders, who moved off to the place of rendezvous as fast as their weighty plunder would permit them; the Jemadar piously imploring of Bhugwan to send their pursuers in a wrong direction. Should one of the gang happen to have been slain, his spirit was likewise invoked, and spirituous liquor and a goat promised to his manes. At every temple on the road, and at every stream they had to cross, they threw down a rupee or two to propitiate the genius of the place. When within a couple of miles of their encampment they called aloud Koo-Koo. If no response were heard they pushed on rapidly, occasionally imitating the call of the partridge: when close at hand they uttered a hissing noise. On their actual arrival they were certain to find everything packed up and ready for a start. Mounted on their rough, hardy little ponies they would cover a distance of sixty to eighty miles in twenty-four hours for two or three consecutive days, until fairly beyond all danger of pursuit. Any one was allowed to join a gang on payment of a few rupees, though not to carry a spear or enter the house until his coolness and courage had been freely tested. If a Dacoit committed homicide he was obliged to expiate his blood-guiltiness by making a poojah, at which he trusted his comrades with half a crown's worth of liquor. In the division of spoils the Jemadar claimed one-tenth in addition to the repayment of his advances towards fitting out the expedition. The balance was then divided among the entire gang, the leader again sharing, and provision was made for the wounded and for the widows of those who had fallen.
The religious creed of the Sanseeas was sufficiently simple. "I believe" said one of them, "in Ram (God), Bhowanee, and Sheik Fureed, whose shrine is at Gierur, about eighteen miles from Hingunghat. There we make offerings after a successful expedition. Sheikh Fureed acquired his saintship thus:—he first performed a devotional penance of twelve years, carrying about with him a load of wood tied to his stomach, but that was not accepted: next another, in which he ate nothing but forest leaves for twelve years—not accepted: lastly, his third trip, he hung himself up by the heels in iron chains in a Baolee (a well) at Gierur; then he was taken up and asked what he wanted; he said, to have every request granted; this was promised, and he disappeared. Many people now pray to him for luck."
Like the Thugs and the other Dacoits, the Sanseeas prided themselves on the exact observance of omens. They looked upon it as unfortunate to hear the cry of the jackal or the cat, a kite screaming while sitting on a tree, the braying of an ass, a flute, or the lamentation over the dead. It was equally inauspicious to see a dog run away with any one's food, a woman break a water-pitcher, a hare, a wolf, a fox, a chamelion, an oil-vender, a carpenter, a blacksmith, two cows tied together, or a thief in custody. If they encountered a corpse, or if a turban fell off, or the Jemadar forgot to put some bread in his waist-belt, or left his spear or axe behind him—the expedition must be deferred. But nothing could be more promising than to meet a woman selling milk, or any one carrying a bag of money, or a basket of grain, or fish, or a pitcher of water. Nor was it less encouraging to see a calf sucking, or a pig, or a blue jay, or a marriage procession.
Their most binding form of attestation was by means of a piece of new cotton cloth, exactly 1¼ cubit square, in which was tied up half-a-pound of coarse sugar. The accuser hung the parcel upon the branch of a peepul tree, and challenged the accused to touch it. If the latter foreswore himself, he would sicken within three days. Another ordeal was to tie seven peepul leaves, one over the other, on the palm of the suspected person's hand, on which a red-hot iron plate was then placed. Unless he carried this seven paces without suffering any inconvenience and deposited it upon seven thorns arranged to receive it, he was pronounced guilty. At other times a Punchayut, or Council of Elders, seated themselves on the bank of a river, when one of them stepped forward and fired two arrows together from one bow, the one in the name of Bhugwan, the other in that of the Punchayut. The furthest one was then stuck upright in the ground, while a man walked into the stream up to his breast and planted a bamboo in the channel. The accused also entered the water and laid hold of the pole. A member of the Punchayut having clapped his hands seven times as a signal for him to plunge his head under the water, set off at the top of his speed for the arrow, brought it back, and again clapped his hands seven times. If the accused had kept his head immersed until this second signal, he was deemed innocent: otherwise, his guilt was held to be satisfactorily proven.
When a male child was born, his head was carefully shaved, with the exception of a small spot dedicated to Bhugwan. This lock of hair was all that he was permitted to wear until the completion of his tenth or twelfth year, when it also was shorn off by the barber, and his relatives gave a grand entertainment to the tribe. Those who died before this ceremony were simply buried with the face downwards: the only solemnity being the preparation of some sweet cakes, of which three were given to a dog and the rest consumed by relatives and friends. But those who survived this important epoch of their lives were, after death, placed on a funeral pyre. When the fire was extinguished, the ashes were carefully examined and the bones buried on the spot. Great feasting and jollity then followed, and the spirit of the deceased, propitiated by an offering of swines' flesh and spirits, was invoked to aid and protect his family.
Matrimony was a matter of arrangement between the parents; a Punchayut deciding the amount of the dower to be given by the father of the bridegroom to the bride's father. The marriage ceremony consisted in a libation of spirits to Bhugwan, the Supreme Being, and a public declaration that the boy and girl were henceforth man and wife; the whole concluding with a feast. If a man happened to be touched by the petticoat of his mother-in-law, or daughter-in-law, he lost caste, and therefore took care never to go near them. The same result was the consequence of his being struck by his wife's petticoat in the course of connubial strife. By thus losing caste he was incapacitated from joining his tribe in worship, or in funeral rites, though he was still allowed to eat and drink with them. However, a handsome entertainment to his brother robbers and a humble offering to the gods removed all impurities, social and religious.
The Bolarum Dacoitee committed in 1837 is such an excellent illustration of the system adopted by the Sanseeas that no apology need be offered for the length of the narrative, as given to Captain Malcolm ten years afterwards by one of the Dacoits actually engaged in it.
"From this place (Sadaseopath) I and four others came on to Hyderabad, where we looked about us for five days, but finding nothing likely to suit our purpose, we went to Bolarum, and took up our quarters at a buneeya's (tradesman's) shop in the village of Alwal, close to the cantonments. In the cantonments we soon discovered a respectable looking shop, which appeared well suited for a Dacoitee. Early one morning I took fifty shuhr-chelnee rupees with me and went to the shop, where I found the owner transacting business. I asked him to exchange the shuhr-chelnee for bagh-chelnee rupees, and when I had agreed to give him one pice discount on each rupee, he went and unlocked one of two large-sized boxes, which I saw in an inner room, and out of which he took the money I required. I also noticed some silver horse-furniture hanging upon a peg on the wall, and in a niche a dagger and a pair of pistols." "Having thus obtained all the information I required as to the exact spot where the property was likely to be found, I next examined the position of the different guards likely to interrupt us in the act of breaking into the house. I found that a guard of eighteen men was stationed at the chowrie (police station) some distance off, and that a sentry was posted at night at a place where four streets met, close to the shop I had reconnoitred. From the latter I feared no opposition, as he could easily be overpowered, and we calculated upon breaking into the house before the chowrie-guard could turn out and come to the rescue of the banker."
"I then returned to my comrades, with whom I remained for two days, making ourselves acquainted with all the localities about the place, the roads leading from it, and in fact with everything that might be of use to us in the enterprise we were about to undertake. Among other things, we learnt that after gun-fire, or eight o'clock, the guard had orders to stop all parties entering the cantonments, and we therefore determined to commence operations before that hour."
"We then returned to Sadaseopath (forty miles distant), and on relating the result of our proceedings to the gang, it was determined to risk a Dacoitee on the Sowar's house at Bolarum. Our next proceeding was to convey as secretly as possible to the vicinity of that place sufficient arms and axes to answer our purpose; these were made up into bundles and entrusted to four men, who proceeded in the night time to Puttuncherroo, and on the following night, a couple of hours before daybreak, we reached a small nullah (ravine) behind the mosque near Bolarum, where the axes and spears were carefully buried in the sand. The rest of our party in the meantime struck their camp, and, leaving the high road, made to the village of Tillapoor, about eight or nine miles from the fort of Golcondah."
"The gang chosen for the Dacoitee consisted of twenty-four able men, under Rungelah Jemadar and myself, and left Tillapoor about ten o'clock in the forenoon, and, in small parties of two and three, reached at twilight the spot where our arms were concealed. We then procured some oil from the shop in the cantonments, and, about half-past seven or nearly eight o'clock, we proceeded in straggling order towards the shop about to be attacked, and which we reached without being challenged by any one. The sentry posted near the shop we were about to attack did not appear to suspect or notice us; and the moment our mussal (torch) was lighted, he was speared by Baraham Shah and Kistniah, while others commenced breaking in the doors of the inner room, the outer partition of the shop having been found open. Three bankers, whom we found writing their accounts in the outer shop, rushed into the house and disappeared. The lock of the door yielded to one blow from the axe of Rungelah, and, on throwing down the planks of which it was formed, we found the box which I had seen on a former occasion, unlocked and open. Out of this we took sixteen bags full of money, leaving four, which we were obliged to relinquish, as we were pressed for time, and had not sufficient men at hand to remove them. The whole place now was in a state of commotion and uproar; and, as we drew off as fast as we could, we were followed by a crowd of camp-followers and Sipahees, to the place where a number of bullocks were picketed. We here struck into the paddy (rice) fields, and across these our pursuers did not attempt to follow us. A short distance from Bolarum, two of the bags broke, and the money fell to the ground; and as it was dark, and we had no time to search for it, we lost nearly 1,500 rupees." Nevertheless, they got off with 14,500 rupees, and with silver horse-furniture valued at £15 more.
The impossibility of guarding against these organized attacks by large bodies of armed men, through the means of the ordinary police, induced Lord Auckland in 1838 to appoint Captain Sleeman commissioner for the suppression of Dacoitee, in addition to his duties as General Superintendent of measures for the suppression of Thuggee. The task was a difficult one. Not only were the Dacoits protected and screened by the native princes, land owners, and magistrates—their own numbers and determination rendered their apprehension a matter of some danger. It was afterwards ascertained that in 1839 there were no fewer than seventy-two leaders south of the Jumna who could gather together 1,625 followers; and to the north of that river forty-six leaders, supported by 1,445 men. In the Oude jungles were many powerful colonies, who were usually warned by friendly Zemindars of the approach of danger, and thus enabled to flee to less accessible fastnesses. On one occasion 1,500 of them escaped into Nepaul where they temporarily dispersed, to meet again at a given rendezvous. The Commissioner himself aptly compared their colonies to a ball of quicksilver, which, if pressed by the finger, will divide into many smaller globules, all certain to come together again and cohere as firmly as before. However, the constant alarms to which they were now subjected, compelled them to conceal themselves in such unhealthy spots that they were decimated by disease. In the Goruckpore district a gang, consisting of ninety-four men and 280 women and children, suffered so much from this cause that they voluntarily surrendered themselves. Others were hunted down from one district to another, until in despair they yielded themselves prisoners, or endeavoured to abandon their illegal vocation and settle down to agricultural pursuits. Many of the prisoners, being conditionally pardoned, were admitted into the police force, where they distinguished themselves by their courage and intelligence. It is a remarkable trait in the character of the Dacoits that they rarely forfeited their word. If once they pledged themselves not to revert to their former evil habits, there was little danger of a relapse. An experimental colony was formed of the approvers and their families near Moradabad, at a place called, de nomine facti, Buddukabad. The result has been satisfactory, though the Dacoits usually complained of the difficulty of confining their expenditure to the comparatively small means furnished by honest industry. A Budduk, they would say, cannot live on eight rupees a month (three rupees being the wages of an ordinary labourer): he requires at least two rupees a day, because he eats meat and takes large quantities of ghee and rice, and loves liquor, and is addicted to polygamy. One of them, who had been ten years in prison, being asked by Capt. Ramsay if, in the event of his liberation, he would promise to amend his life, shook his head and answered with a merry laugh:—"No, no, that would never do. Why should I become an honest man—work hard all day in the sun, rain, and all weathers, and earn—what? Some five or six pice a day! We Dacoits lead very comfortable and agreeable lives. When from home, which is generally only during the cold season, we march some fourteen or sixteen miles a-day for, perhaps, a couple of months, or say four, at the outside—commit a Dacoitee and bring home money sufficient to keep us comfortable for a year, or perhaps two. When at home we amuse ourselves by shooting, or visiting our friends, or in any way most agreeable—eat when we please, and sleep when we please—can, what you call an honest man, do that?"
Another who had passed a like period within the gaol at Lucknow, returned to Dacoitee a few months after his release. "I was then young," said he, "and in high spirits—I had been confined with many other old Dacoits—and in gaol I used to hear them talking of their excursions, how they got 50,000 rupees here and 20,000 rupees there; and I used to long for my release, that I might go on Dacoitee and enjoy myself." The confessions of both these men would be readily endorsed by many inmates of our own prisons. Evil associations and the charms of a contraband career are equally potent in Europe and in Asia. But among the natives of India the profession of a Dacoit was not regarded as one of shame and disgrace. Indeed, even the Commissioner avowed he could see little difference, ethically, between expeditions in quest of plunder, and those for the purpose of conquest; it was a question of degree, not of principle. They themselves gloried in their calling. "Ours," they said, "has been a Padshahee Kam (an imperial business); we have attached and seized boldly the thousands and hundreds of thousands that we have freely and nobly spent: we have been all our lives wallowing in wealth and basking in freedom, and find it hard to manage with a few copper pice a day we get from you." So energetic, however, and persevering were the measures adopted for the suppression of this "Padshahee Kam" that within a very few years after their inauguration, there existed in the Upper Provinces scarcely even the nucleus of a gang. The few who still remained at liberty were known by name and personal appearance, and only escaped apprehension by leading simple and inoffensive lives, gaining their daily bread by their daily labour.
The task of suppression in the Lower Provinces has been attended with so many peculiar difficulties, from the natural configuration of the country, that Dacoitee can hardly yet be said to be extinguished. But its days are numbered, and a marked diminution of cases is observable every year. The apathy of their victims has, undoubtedly, been one great cause of the impunity so long enjoyed by these daring marauders. This reluctance to prosecute, though partly owing to a well founded dread of incurring the vengeance of the comrades of convicted Dacoits, is chiefly attributable to the repugnance felt by all respectable natives to appear in Court even as complainants. The tedious formalities of legal proceedings appear to them in the light of studied annoyances, and their dignity is offended by the distrust with which their statements are necessarily received. Perhaps, the ancient mode of administering justice would be, after all, the most efficacious, and certainly most in accordance with the native character. The elders of the town, or village, seated at the gate, or beneath the grateful shade of stately trees, and presided over by an English gentleman conversant with their habits and language, and possessed of tact, patience, and good sense, would probably dispense more evenhanded justice than is obtained by all the costly paraphernalia of courts of law founded on a totally different phase of civilization. Be this as it may, enough has now been said to disprove the vulgar allegation of indifference to the welfare of their fellow subjects so flippantly and frequently urged against the Government of the East India Company. And these are only two out of many instances that might be adduced to show that their administration has been one of continued and consistent progress. It is reserved for posterity to admire the gratitude that seeks to reward the annexation and improvement of a vast empire by maligning the motives of those to whom this country is indebted for the brightest gem in the imperial crown, vilipending their services, and depriving them of power and patronage.