The bonne bouche of Shikárpúr is the Great Bazar, about eight hundred yards long and branching out. It was as striking in its way as the Bhendi Bazar. The women and the men are superb animals, a perfect combination of strength and symmetry and absolute grace, and they outstrip in intellect as in physical development all the other inhabitants of the plain. They are respected, and are called the sons of the Aughán. We enjoyed the hospitality of Dr. Salaman, whom he told that in his day the cantonment contained two regiments, whereas in 1876 it looked as if it had suffered from siege, pestilence, and famine. The railway, Richard said, will retrieve its fortunes, the banking business will revive, with increased facilities for transit and traffic. It will be wealth to the Great Bazar, and the position of the town will make it supply the railway. It will recover its garrison as soon as "Common Sense" takes courage to withdraw its troops from pestilent Jacobábád, twenty-six miles north-north-west of Shikárpúr. When the choice of a frontier post rested upon General John Jacob, he pitched upon the best he could; now it is the very worst.
The Indian Army.
Richard's Remarks on Changes in Indian Army.
"Karáchi is still the capital village of the local Government, and the head-quarters of the European regiment. Under the Conquistador the camp usually numbered about five to eight thousand men, both colours and all arms included. This strong force has been greatly reduced. The 'boss' is now a brigadier-general, commanding the station (where he resides) and the Sind district, no longer a division; it may, however, recover its honours when annexed to the Panjáb. He has no adjutant-general; only a brigade-major and a quartermaster-general. The single white corps is the 56th, and the 'Pompadours' detach two companies to Haydarábád. Here we have no cavalry. Three corps of the Sind Horse (about 1480 sabres) are stationed at Jacobábád, their head-quarters; they also man all the adjoining outposts. The arms are carbine and sword; the uniform is almost that of the Cossack, the old Crimean Bashi-Bazouks, and the irregular cavalry in general: green tunics and overalls; turban, riding-boots, and black belts. The native infantry at Karáchi is now the 2nd Beloch Regiment (29th Bombay Native Infantry). They wear light serge blouses in working costume, and green tunics with red facings for full dress; loose blue 'pagris;' madder-stained knickerbockers—'cherubim shorts' are excellent for wear—and white, which should be brown, gaiters covering blucher boots. Their weapons are those of the Sepoy line generally. At Jacobábád, on the north-western frontier, are also Jacob's Rifles (30th Regiment Bombay Native Infantry), averaging some seven hundred men armed with sniders, and habited in khâkí, or drab-coloured drill. Haydarábád, besides its two white companies, is garrisoned by the 1st Beloch Regiment (27th Bombay Native Infantry), known by its looser turbans.
"The artillery of the Sind district is now commanded by a lieutenant-colonel, residing at head-quarters. Under him are two field batteries of white troops; one stationed here, the other at Haydarábád. Finally, at Jacobábád there is a mountain train, about a hundred and fifty men, with two mortars and as many howitzers (all 4½-inch), which are to be exchanged for steel breech-loaders weighing two hundred pounds, and drawn by the sure-footed mule. A move has lately been made in the right direction as regards the 'gunners,' and presidential jealousies have been abated by appointing a Director-General of Ordnance for all India. Still, the mountain train is left almost inefficient, the complaint of universal India; fourteen mules are short, and the commanding officer, Captain Young, an officer of twelve years' experience in Sind, 'passed' also in the native languages, could hardly take the field in full force without great delay.
"Thus, you see, Mr. Bull, Sind has utterly 'eliminated' the Sepoy, whilst India has reduced her Sepoy army to a mere absurdity. The claims of economy, the delusive prospect of peace, and last, not least, the loud persistent voice of Prophet and Acting-Commissioner, General John Jacob, and his 'silahdar system,' prevailed against the old organization and common sense. He was in many ways a remarkable man, endowed with that calm and perfect confidence in himself which founds 'schools,' and which propagates faiths. Accustomed to base the strongest views, the headstrongest opinions, upon a limited experience of facts, he was an imposing figure as long as he remained in obscurity. But, unfortunately, one of his disciples and most ardent admirers, Captain (now Sir Lewis) Pelly, published, shortly after his death, an octavo containing the 'Views and Opinions of General John Jacob,'[10] and enables the world to take the measure of the man.
"General John Jacob's devotion to his own idea has left a fatal legacy, not only to Sind, but to the whole of India. Sir Charles Napier, a soldier worth a hundred of him, had steadily advocated increasing, with regiments on service, the number of 'Sepoy officers,' then six captains, twelve lieutenants, and four ensigns. The Conqueror of Sind protested that the 'regulars' were not regular enough, the best men being picked out for staff and detached appointments. The 'butcher's bill' of every battle, I may tell you, gives nearly double the number of casualties among the 'black officers,' as we were called, and at Miyáni (Meanee) we were six deaths to one 'white officer.' The reason is obvious; the 'pale faces' must lead their companies, wings, and corps, otherwise the natives, commissioned, non-commissioned, and privates, will not advance in the teeth of too hot a fire. We are already made sufficiently conspicuous by the colour of our skins and by the cut of our uniforms, while the enemy is always sharp enough to aim at 'picking' us 'off.'
"General John Jacob proposed, in opposition to the Conqueror of Sind, to supplant the Regular system by the Irregulars, which means diminishing the number of Englishmen. Having the pick and choice of the Indian army at his disposal, he succeeded in fairly drilling and disciplining his Sind Horse; argal, as the grave-digger said, he resolved that the Sind Horse should become a model and a pattern to the whole world. He honestly puffed his progeny on all occasions, even when it least deserved praise. During our four months' raid on Southern Persia, the Sind Horse was pronounced by all the cavalrymen present to be the last in point of merit; the same was the case in Abyssinia; and during the Mutiny many of his men were found among the 'Pándís.' Yet he puffed and preached and wrote with such vigour that the military authorities, worn out by his persistency, and finding that the fatal measure would save money, gave ear to the loud, harsh voice. In an inauspicious hour the whole regular Sepoy force of India was not only irregularized: it was, moreover, made a bastard mixture of the Regular and the Irregular.
"The result is the ruin of the Indian army. The system itself is simply a marvel. The corps have either too many officers or too few. For drilling purposes you want only a commandant, an adjutant (who should also be musketry instructor), and a surgeon; or at most the three combatants who led the old Irregular corps. For fighting, you require, besides the field officers, at least two Englishmen, or better still, three per company. It is, I own, possible to increase the normal complement by free borrowing from the staff corps, and from the rest of the army, but every soldier will tell you that this is a mere shift; the officers must know their men, and the men their officers.
"Again, under the present system, which effectually combines the faults of both the older, and the merits of neither, your infantry corps with its full cadre, of which half is usually absent, theoretically numbers nine European officers. One, the surgeon, is a non-combatant, and two, the adjutant and quartermaster, are usually represented by the wing subalterns. An English regiment, with its cadre of thirty, mounts only its field-officers and adjutant. An Indian corps—would you believe it?—mounts the lieutenant-colonel commanding; the major, second in command; the two wing officers, the two wing subalterns, the adjutant, and the quartermaster. The result is to incur the moral certainty of their all being swept away by the first few volleys. True, you have sixteen native commissioned officers, forty havildárs (sergeants), and the same number of náiks (corporals)—a total of ninety-six. But the belief that Sepoys will fight without Englishmen to lead them, is a snare, a sham, and a delusion.
"A host of other evils besets the present state of things. Your cavalry corps are so weak in officers, rank and file, that a six months' campaign would reduce them each to a single troop. Your infantry regiments, eight companies of seventy-five bayonets each, or a total of six hundred and forty, have not been reduced to the form now recognized as the best tactical unit. Again, officers are still transferred, after six and even seven years' service, from the white to the black line, thus bringing them upon the Indian pension list without having served the full time. They also want esprit de corps; they dislike and despise 'Jack Sepoy,' and their chief object in life is to regain something more congenial than the out-station and the dull, half-deserted Mess. Again, at the other end of the scale, field officers of twenty-five to thirty years' Indian service are made to do subalterns' work. Regimental zeal is being annihilated; and the evil of senility is yearly increasing. Let me relate a case, which you shall presently see for yourself. Major A——, who has served in a corps for nine years, who has seen three campaigns, and who for three years has acted second in command, lately finds himself superseded by a lieutenant-colonel, when he himself expects to become lieutenant-colonel within six months. What is the result? He is utterly weary of the service, he has lost all heart for its monotonous duties. 'An old subaltern,' says one of your favourites, 'is a military vegetable, without zeal as without hope.'
"Again, the new furlough regulations, after abundant considerings, have turned out so badly, that all who can cleave to the old. Why grant leave, with full pay and allowances for six months, to Kashmir and to the depths of the Himálayas, and yet refuse it to the home-goer, under pain of English pay? Why should the Civil Service have, and the military lack, 'privilege leave'? Why thus adhere to old and obsolete tradition, so as to make the soldier's life as unpleasant as possible? Why——But at this rate, sir, 'Whys' will never end.
"Sir Henry Havelock's truthful statement in the House of Commons, that the Anglo-Indian army is 'rotten from head to foot,' has surprised the public mass which puts trust in Pickwickian and official declarations. We, who know the subject, declare that the Indian is, perhaps, in a worse condition than the home force; and we assert that the idea of opposing regiments, so officered and so manned, to the Russians, or even to the Afghans, is simply insane.
"Do not disbelieve me, Mr. John Bull, because my language is not rose-watered. The Old Maids' Journal (Spectator)—ancient, but not very pretty, virginity—has lately been berating me for seeking 'cheap credit' by 'pointing out how much better duties might be done by persons whose business it is to do them.' But officials are ever in trammels, whilst we critics, who look only to results, are not; moreover, a man is hardly omniscient because his work is in this or that department, or even because he holds high rank in this or that service. And did not Voltaire think and declare that, 'of all the ways of Providence, nothing is so inscrutable as the littleness of the minds that control the destinies of great nations'?
"Some have distinction, you know, forced upon them; others win it by means which honest men despise. They never report the truth unless pleasant to the ear; they calculate that, possibly, the disagreement will not occur; and that, if it does, their neglect will be slurred over and forgotten. Plausible and specious, 'they can preach and they can lecture; they can talk "soft sawder," and they can quote platitudes ad infinitum. These superficial specimens of humanity, who know which side their bread is buttered, owe their rise, their stars and ribbons, their K.C.B.'s and pensions, not to the sterling merits of courage and ability, of talents and manliness, but to the oily tongue that knows so well how to work the oracle, and to a readiness of changing tactics as the chameleon changes colour.' In short, these gentlemen have mastered the 'gospel of getting on;' the species, 'neglected Englishmen,' has not.
"Thus you have no right to be surprised, as you often are, when some notorious incapable, entrusted with an office of the highest responsibility, comes to grief. His 'Kismet,' his 'Nasib,' his star, have been in the ascendant, and he has done nothing to obscure them by personal merit, by originality, by candour, or by over-veracity. These qualities are sure to make enemies, and the millenium must dawn before your friends—private, public, or political—will look after you with the vigour and the tenacity of your foes.
"But so rotten is the state, so glaring is the inefficiency, of the Indian army, that you will not be astonished to hear reports of 'organic changes' and fundamental reforms, or even to see a return to the old system. Strange to say, Lord Northbrook, the civilian, saw the necessity of reorganization. Lord Napier, the soldier, who, during the Abyssinian campaign, sent for officers to every Presidency, ignored it. Perhaps the Napierian clique took the opportunity to oppose, tooth and nail, the efforts of another service. The Shí'ahs, who, you know, abhor the Sunnis bitterly, as Roman Catholics hate Protestants, when any mode of action left to private judgment is proposed, always choose the line opposed to that taken by their heretic enemies—raghman li-'l-Tasannun, 'in adverse bearing to Sunniship,' as the religious formula runs.
"Briefly, the sooner we convert Jacobábád into an outpost, connect it by a decent road with Shikárpúr, and station the troops at Sakhar, the better. No man in his sane senses would station his whole force upon the skirts of a province, where a troop or two suffices, without a single soldier, for support or reserve, nearer than some three hundred miles.
"The defective dyke has depopulated a fine tract of country; it threatened old Sakhar, and it may even cause a complete shifting of the irrepressible river. Any exceptional freshet may burst the 'Band' and insulate Sakhar Camp, below which the inundation used to discharge; and seriously damage the working of the railway, upon which all the prosperity of the Upper Province now depends.
"But dull, desolate, decayed, miserable-looking Sakhar has a future. Bad as the climate is, men live longer in it than at Shikárpúr or Jacobábád. The railway, which the engineers seem trying their hardest not to make, must some day be finished; it will not only connect Sind with India, but it must also attract to itself all the outlying settlements. 'Common Sense,' again, will presently withdraw the Sind Horse from wretched malarious Jacobábád, a prison with the chance of being drowned. The occupation of Kelat will give poor old Sakhar an excellent sanitarium, and the annexation of the Unhappy Valley to the broad and fertile plains of the Panjáb will make it, I venture to predict, one of the principal stations upon the highway of commerce.
"The present antiquated arrangements date from the days of General and Acting-Commissioner John Jacob, who, after eighteen years' service in Sind, died on October 5, 1858; and his rules endure, I have told you, whilst all the conditions that favoured them have changed. They were originally intended for the benefit of the Jekránis, the Domkís, and the Bugtís; but these robber tribes have long ago become peaceful cultivators. They are perpetuated by the old school of Sind soldier, that sat at the feet of his Gamaliel, John Jacob, and that ever held and still hold him a manner of Minor Prophet. He was, I have told you, a remarkable man, and so you may judge by the entire devotion of his followers and successors. He used to base the most decided views upon the shallowest study of the 'Eternal Laws of Nature,' of 'Principles,' and so forth.
"General Jacob could not play whist; ergo, whist was banished from the Mess of the Sind Horse, and even now, nearly a score of years after his death, it is still, I believe, under interdict. A 'practical mechanic,' that is to say, a mere amateur, he tried to force upon the army a rapier-bayonet and a double-barrelled, four-grooved rifle, which reached the climax of impracticability. Incapable of mastering native languages, he hated linguists, and never lost an opportunity of ridiculing and reviling them. Moreover, he dignified his deficiency by erecting it into a principle—namely, that all English subjects should learn English; and here, for once, his prejudice ran in the right line. He knew nothing of the sword beyond handling it like a broomstick; therefore he would not allow it to be taught to his men, many of whose lives were thus sacrificed to his fatal obstinacy. He utterly condemned the use of the point, which is invaluable throughout India, because the natives neither make it nor learn to guard it. His only reason for this dogmatism was the danger of the thrust by his own inexperienced hand. In a few single combats, after running his man through the body, he had risked being disarmed or dragged from his horse. He probably never knew, and, with characteristic tenacity, he would not have changed his opinion had he known, that Lamoricière proposed to take away the edge from the French trooper's blade; that the French heavies still use the straight sword, best fitted for the point; and that the superiority of the latter to the cut is a settled question throughout the civilized world. His prejudices were inveterate, and they were most easily roused. He hated through life a native of Persia, who, not understanding his stutter, a defect imitated by his admirers, wrote his name J-J-J-J-J-Jacob, thus:—
At last his obstinacy killed him. When advised by the surgeon not to ride his final ride home, he asked, with a sneer, if the young man knew his constitution better than he did himself, and he died examining a new rifle."
He continues—
"Kasmor is our northernmost village, but it is one hundred miles of winding road, a deadly uninteresting series of seven marches, and is of no interest; but we will, on returning to Sakhar again, visit the ruins of Aror. Issuing from Rohri by the Multán road, we shall pass on the left the Aroráwáh, and east of it the new Nárá supply canal, and then we will drop down the Indus to Kotri. We have now inspected and studied Sind and its river Indus, and you must marvel at the complete physical resemblance, and the absolute intellectual difference between this and Egypt—there Meroe, Philæ, Thebes, the Pyramids; here nothing. Yet this is one of the nurseries of the Indo-Aryan race, whose occupation of the Panjáb learned Pandits placed before the sixth century before Christ; this is the home of the Vedas, the scene of the Puránas; the traditions of Ráma and Sitá's travel in Lower Sind. Why is this mighty contrast in the works of Art, where the gifts of Nature are so similar? My theory is that Old Egypt has always been the meeting-place of nations, the common ground upon which the Orient and the Occident stood front to front, where Eastern man compared himself with Western man, where mind struck mind, where the Promethean spark resulted from the impact of Northern or Southern thought. Indus-land stood in a corner far from the outer worlds of the North and the far West; she led to nothing, she was of scant service to racial development. Indus-land was compelled to work out her own destinies in a mean and humble way, while the monuments of Nile-land still instruct and astonish humanity."
Then we came to Hyderabad, and he discusses the Indus Valley Railway. He finds it silly that the Government continued to march its troops between Karáchi and Kotri in ten days, including a single halt, rather than take the rail for four or five hours; expensive economy, he remarks, as the baggage camels cost far more than a few additional cars.
He says that we have improved the climate of the Indus Valley; we have learned to subdue its wildness by the increased comforts of a more civilized life. Many abuses of the olden time have disappeared; formerly, it was a feat to live five years in Indus-land, but now you find men who have weathered their twenty years.
"There is an imperative demand for a sanitarium, and the nearest and best is Kelat. Kelat requires protection, and would be an admirable outpost in case of hostile movements from Merv upon Herat (1876). A couple of troops would amply suffice that abominable Jacobábád. A single corps of Sind Horse should support them from Shikárpúr, and the reserves, or body of the force, should occupy Sakhar, where the climate is supportable and locomotion easy. Sind is virtually unconnected with North-Western India, whose prolongation she is. From Kotri-Hyderabad to Multán (570 miles) is a long steamer voyage of twenty days, which should be covered by twenty-four hours of rail-travel.
"The military political has had his day, and Sind, after a fair trial of seventy-five years, has shown herself impotent to hold the position of an independent province. She should be annexed to the Panjáb, and then, as in the ancient days of the Hindú Rajahs, her frontiers will extend to Kashmír. Already the papers tell us that the Trans-Indine districts, from Pesháwar to near Karáchi, will be formed into a Frontier Government, or an agency purely political, and will be placed directly under the Viceroy; while Cis-Indine Sind, including also Karáchi, is to be transferred from Bombay to the Panjáb, in exchange for the Central Provinces. These sensible measures will be, to use a popular phrase, the making of Young Egypt or Indus-land. She will become the export-line of the rich Upper Valley, and the broad plains of the Land of the Five Rivers, and increased wealth will enable her to supply many a local want; for instance, water and gas to Karáchi, a branch railway to Thathá, and so forth. Finally, when Karáchi becomes the terminus of the Euphrates or Overland Railway, so much wanted at this moment (February, 1877), then 'The Unhappy' will change her name, and in the evening of her days shall become 'The Happy Valley.'"
We were fortunate enough to be in time for the Feast of the Muhárram, with the procession for Hossein's death. This is a Moslem miracle play, answering to our Passion play at Ober Ammergau, and represents the martyrdom and death of Hassan and Hossein, sons of Ali and Fatima, son-in-law and daughter of Mohammed. No European seemed to care about it, but in any other land there would be crowded express trains and excursion steamers to catch a glimpse of it. Richard took me to the Imám Bárrá, to his friends the Shí'ahs (Persians), to his Highness Agha Khan, chief of the Khojahs, who took me to the Jumat Khana, the place of assembly of the Khojah caste—an immense building, enclosing in a large space of ground. They let us in, and the Hindús, but not the Sunnis, who, though Moslems, are their religious enemies. The whole place was a blaze of lamps, mirrors, a brazier of wood flaring up, and a large white tank of water (Hossein died fighting his way to the Great River). Men form themselves into a ring, moving from right to left with a curious step, beating their naked breasts with their hands. It makes a noise like the thud of a crowbar, but in musical time; the Arabs dance that way, but do not beat their breasts. The blows are given with such violence that they sometimes die of them, and often faint, and think themselves happy to suffer for the cause. They become more and more fanatical, working themselves up to frenzy, crying, "Hossein! Hossein Ah-ha!" and with this wail the blows are dealt with noise and regularity like a huge sledge-hammer, till it becomes a maddening shriek. They become raw as beef, and bleed, and are distorted. To see those hundreds of men, in the prime of life, brawny and muscular as they are, carried away by religious fanaticism, awes you; and you know what a terrible thing it is, and what a tremendous force it is, when roused, to twist the world in and out of shape with.
Then comes a procession of horses bearing little boys of six or eight, the children and nephews of Hossein, carried off prisoners; their white clothes and the horse's trappings stream with blood (painted wonderfully well). A group of mourners hang round each horse, crying real tears, and shrieking, "Hossein!" which thrills our nerves, and all the spectators sob. Then comes the bier with Hossein's corpse, and his son sitting upon it sorrowing and embracing him, and a beautiful white dove in the corner, whose wings are dabbled with blood. The effect upon the excited crowd is awful. Then follows a litter with the sister and widow of Hossein, throwing dust and straw upon their heads. One horse has a score of arrows stuck in its housings. We must here call to mind that Fatima was the daughter of the Prophet Mohammed, was married to Ali, the Prophet's favourite companion, and was mother of Hassan and Hossein. Fatima expected Ali to succeed her father; but Ayesha, the last and youngest wife of Mohammed, managed that her own father, Abubekr, should become the Caliph. Then came Omar, then Osman. When Osman died, Ali, who was still alive, became Caliph, and was assassinated A.D. 660, leaving his two sons, Hassan and Hossein, blessed by their grandfather, Mohammed, as the foremost youths of Paradise. Hassan renounced his rights to save civil war, and was poisoned at Medina by his wife, at the instigation of Muawíyah. Hossein went to Medina, invited to return by the subjects of the treacherous Yezíd, was caught in the snare, and slain in battle at Kerbála (Arabia).