The architectural remains and ancient literature of Hindostan give a high idea of their knowledge and refinement in remote ages. According to their old poets, women were then regarded with a kind of chivalrous gallantry, and enjoyed a degree of personal freedom, to which modern Asiatic women are entire strangers: Sacontalu, the adopted daughter of a holy Bramin, is the heroine of an interesting old drama, in which she is mentioned as receiving strangers with the most graceful hospitality; and when Dusmantha was absent from his capital, his mother governed in his stead. Women were then admitted as witnesses in courts of justice, and where the accused was a female, their evidence was even preferred.
Malabar boasts of her seven sages, and four of them were women. The celebrated Avyar, one of the most ancient of these sages, probably lived more than a thousand years ago. Her origin and birth are involved in poetic fable; but her works are still extant, and held in much estimation. They principally consist of short moral sentences, like the following: “Speak not of God but with reverence.” “The sweetest bread is that earned by labor.” “The genuine object of science is to distinguish good from evil.” “Let thy books be thy best friends.” “Modesty is the fairest ornament of a woman.” “There is no virtue without religion.”
The Mohammedan creed, which everywhere produces a miserable effect on the destiny of women, has considerably changed their condition in Hindostan. The higher classes among the Hindoos, without adopting the religion of the Mussulmans, copied their jealous precautions with regard to females.
Wives are numerous, according to the wealth and character of their owners. A petty Hindoo chief has been known to have several hundred female slaves shut up in his zananah.[4] Under these unnatural circumstances, we cannot wonder at the character of women given by one of their pundits, as the Braminical expositors of law are called: he says, “Women are characterized, first, by an inordinate love of jewels, fine clothes, handsome furniture, and dainty food; second, by unbounded profligacy; third, by violent anger and deep resentment, no one knowing the sentiments that lie concealed in their hearts; fourth, another person’s good appears evil in their eyes.” This is but one among many instances wherein men have reproached the objects of their tyranny with the very degradation and vices which their own contempt and oppression have produced. How can it be wondered at that women, with all the feelings and faculties of human nature, and unnaturally deprived of objects for their passions, affections, or thoughts, should seek excitement in petty stratagem and restless intrigue?
No Hindoo woman is allowed to give evidence in courts of justice. The Bramins have power to put their wives to death for unfaithfulness; but it is said that milder punishments are more usually inflicted. Sometimes reconciliation takes place, and the event is celebrated by a feast, to which the neighboring Bramins are invited, and the culprit waits upon them at table.
This crime in Hindoo women is generally punished by expulsion from their caste, a heavy fine, and the bastinado. It is considered a still more disgraceful penalty to have the hair cut off. This is rarely inflicted, except upon very abandoned females, who are afterward plastered with filth, and led about on a donkey, accompanied with the sound of tamtams.
Instances of extreme injustice sometimes occur, as must always be the case where human beings are invested with arbitrary power.
One of the rajahs of Hindostan had a beautiful wife, whom he loved better than all the rest of his women. A young man, who was originally his barber, gained his confidence to such a degree, that nothing could be done but through his interest. The rajah, having accepted an invitation to an annual festival held at a great distance, trusted every thing to the integrity of this prime minister. Before his master had been gone a week, the villain dared to make love to his favorite wife. She treated him with indignation and scorn, and threatened, if he continued to repeat professions of his love, that she would expose his baseness. He knew the rajah had a most fiery and impetuous temper, and he at once resolved how to escape danger, and to be revenged upon his virtuous victim. He sought an interview with his master the very first moment he returned, and by a tissue of plausible falsehoods, made him believe that his favorite wife was a faithless creature, entirely unworthy of his confidence. The rajah, in a fit of blind fury, flew into the zananah, and without speaking a word, murdered the beautiful object of his recent attachment.
The circumstance was soon forgotten; for such murders were common, and punishable by no laws. Even the nearest relatives of the deceased did not ask the reason of such violence.
Thus precarious must all attachments be where moral and intellectual sympathy have no share in the union.