APPENDIX II
From the earliest times the Kashmiris have been objects of contempt and derision, whilst the women have been—perhaps unduly—lauded for their looks and general excellence.
The Kashmiris themselves are of opinion that “once upon a time” they were an honourable and valiant folk, brought gradually to their present condition by foreign oppression.
To a certain extent this is probably true, but, according to the Rajatarangini Kulan, they were noted for dishonesty and cunning long before the evil days of conquest and adversity. Bernier speaks well of the men, calling them witty and industrious. Doubtless the Kashmiri character, originally none too good, was ruined during the long years of cruelty and injustice to which he was subjected by the Tartars, Afghans, and Sikhs, who, from the day when Akbar put him into women’s clothes, treated him as something lower than a brute.
Forster, writing in 1783, abuses the Kashmiri, whom he stigmatises as “endowed with unwearied patience in the pursuit of gain.” He speaks of the vile treatment to which he was subjected by his then rulers the Pathans, observing that Afghans usually addressed Kashmiris by striking them with a hatchet, but, he concludes, “I even judged them worthy of their adverse fortune.”
Elphinstone (1839) is of opinion that “the men are excessively addicted to pleasure, and are notorious all over the East for falsehood and cunning;” and again, “The Cashmerians are of no account as soldiers.”
“Many fowls in a yard defile it, and many Kashmiri in a country ruin it,” says the proverb. Lawrence goes very fully into the Kashmiri character, and dwells upon its few good points, giving him credit for great artistic feeling, quick wit, ready repartee, and freedom from crime against the person. He considers the last merit, though, to be due to cowardice and the state of espionage which exists in every village!
I was told (but perhaps by a prejudiced person) of a Kashmiri who, during the great flood of 1903, he being safely on the shore, saw his brother being swept down the boiling river, clinging to his rapidly disintegrating roof. The following painful conversation ensued:—
“Whither sailest thou, oh brother, perched upon the birch bark of thine ancestral roof?”
“Ah! brother dear. Save me quick! I drown!”
“Truly that can I; but say, what recompense wilt thou give me?”
“All I have in the world, brother—two lovely rupees.”
“Tut, tut, little one; thou takest me for a fool. Two rupees, forsooth, for five perchance I will deign to save thy worthless life.”
“Three, then, three, carissimo—’tis all I have—and make haste, for I feel my timbers parting, and I know not how to swim.”
“Farewell, oh, dearest brother! I could not possibly think of taking so much trouble for three rupees, especially as, now I come to think of it, I can borrow a singhara pole, and, in due time, will prod for thy corpse in the Wular! Mind thou wrappest the lucre snugly in thy cummerbund, that it be not lost—farewell, little brother!”
While the gentlemen of the Happy Valley have been lashed by the tongue and pen of every traveller, the ladies, on the contrary, have been rather overrated.
In all communities where the men are invertebrate the women become the real heads of the family, doing not only most of the actual work, but also taking the dominant position in affairs generally. This I have observed strikingly in the case of the three “slackest” male races I know—the Fantis of the Gold Coast, the Kashmiri, and the crofters of the West Highlands.
Opinion is divided on the question of female loveliness in Kashmir.
Marco Polo (who probably only got his ideas of “Kesmur” from hearsay) echoed the prevalent opinion by saying, “The women although dark are very comely” (ch. xxvii.). Bernier is enthusiastic: “Les femmes surtout y sont très-belles,” and hints at their popularity among the Moguls.
Moorcroft, Vigne, and others swelled the laudatory chorus until Forster, “having been prepossessed with an opinion of their charms, suffered a sensible disappointment,” and even was so rude as to criticise the ladies’ legs, which he considered thick!
Lawrence saw “thousands of women in the villages, and could not remember, save one or two exceptions, ever seeing a really beautiful face;” but the heaviest blow was dealt them by Jacquemont, who, as a gay Frenchman, should have been an excellent judge: “Je n’avais jamais vu auparavant d’aussi affreuses sorcières!”