Having now related the whole of the circumstances which attended the detachment I had the honour to command during its march to Candy and in its retreat, I must still trespass on the attention of my readers to make a few observations connected with the subject.
With respect to the policy or expediency of invading the Candian territory, occupying the capital, cutting roads through the country, or dividing it into several governments, these are considerations, which, however important in their nature, do not come within the scope of my design. The propriety of such measures must greatly depend upon existing circumstances, of which the Government for the time being must be supposed to be the best qualified to judge. This much, however, I think I may venture to suggest, from some experience of the Candian character; that, considering that each European soldier, at his arrival in India, costs the nation at least £100, these objects, even in a financial view of the subject, might be much better attained by the application of a smaller sum to secure, if necessary, an influence at the Court of Candy.
But should it be deemed more expedient to have recourse to arms as the best mode of maintaining and extending our ascendancy in Ceylon, I am not without hope that my remarks will be of service to those who may in future be appointed to conduct our military expeditions into the interior of that country. They are perhaps the more necessary, as of the few survivors of the last war, whose experience might be useful, scarcely any are now remaining in the island.
What I shall first advert to, as being of most essential importance to our military operations, not only in Ceylon, but in every part of India, is the expediency of European officers learning the native languages.
The disadvantages arising from an ignorance of the language of a people whom we command, or with whom we have to negotiate, have been so frequently exemplified in Ceylon, without an adequate remedy having been applied to the evil, that I think it necessary here to offer my sentiments on the subject.
The circumstance of being obliged to carry on a conversation by means of an interpreter, forms an almost insuperable bar to confidential intercourse, or acquiring secret information. Many of the Candians are well disposed to communicate the information they possess, in the expectation of reward; but in common with the natives of every part of India, are unwilling to commit themselves in the presence of an interpreter, in whose secrecy they cannot confide, knowing that if betrayed, not only their own lives, but the lives of their families will be forfeited, and their property confiscated.
The troops are also in a great measure placed in the power of the interpreter. Through the medium of the questions which he is instructed to put to the guides and spies, he is enabled to penetrate into the views of the commanding officer, and to betray them to the enemy; or, in stating their answers, he may deceive him, by altering, or entirely withholding, information of the greatest importance. The interpreter is ready enough to perceive, and to avail himself of the advantages of his situation. He takes care to place his own particular friends about the commanding officer's person. He holds a sort of court at the place of private residence, to which the guides and spies, or others who have business with the commanding officer, resort, in order to prepare their statements. Thus the spies, who ought never to know each other, get acquainted; and the advantages which might be derived from comparing their different accounts, are, from their opportunities of communication with each other, totally lost. The interpreter, being the immediate executive agent, at once gains an ascendancy over all the natives in the camp, which he not unfrequently abuses; and however ill he may treat them, they never presume to complain, it being a maxim with the natives of India never to complain of a man in power. In this case, also, they are deterred by the consideration, that the person complained against forms their only channel of communication with the commanding officer.
When the natives know that the commanding officer understands their language, and that he does not make a confidant of the interpreter, who is generally the Modiliar,[5] they are ever ready to come forward with their information.
Of the great caution observed by the natives of India in respect to what they declare in public, or before interpreters, I have known some striking instances, wherein men have given testimonies, even upon oath, directly opposite to what they had previously stated to me in private and confidential communication; and upon being afterwards reproached for the contradiction, they have persisted in asserting that their private statement was the true one, the declarations which they had made on oath being prompted by fear of giving evidence in a public court, which would tend to injure the cause of one of the chiefs who had great power and influence in the country; that as it was uncertain how long I might remain in command of the district, the offended chief would, sooner or later, find the means of ruining the party; and that the consequences would not even stop here, but the children of the chief would continue to his children the hereditary vengeance of their father.
A knowledge of the language also enables us to converse with the men of education among the natives, who are generally communicative and well informed, particularly with what relates to their own country—a species of knowledge of which we stand the most in need. It farther enables us to peruse the writings, and, by instructing us in their origin, teaches us to respect prejudices of which the Indians are extremely tenacious, and which we are too apt at first landing to despise. What great political advantages might be derived from a proper management of these prejudices, experience has amply shown.