The secrecy and adroitness with which the Thugs conducted their murders are well illustrated by the narrative of the assassination of a native official or pleader at Lakhnādon in Seoni as given by one of the gang:[8] “We fell in with the Munshi and his family at Chhapāra between Nāgpur and Jubbulpore; and they came on with us to Lakhnādon, where we found that some companies of a native regiment under European officers were expected the next morning. It was determined to put them all to death that evening as the Munshi seemed likely to join the soldiers. The encampment was near the village and the Munshi’s tent was pitched close to us. In the afternoon some of the officers’ tents came on in advance and were pitched on the other side, leaving us between them and the village. The khalāsis were all busily occupied in pitching them. Nūr Khān and his son Sādi Khān and a few others went as soon as it became dark to the Munshi’s tent, and began to play and sing upon a sitār as they had been accustomed to do. During this time some of them took up the Munshi’s sword on pretence of wishing to look at it. His wife and children were inside listening to the music. The jhirni or signal was given, but at this moment the Munshi saw his danger, called out murder, and attempted to rush through, but was seized and strangled. His wife hearing him ran out with the infant in her arms, but was seized by Ghabbu Khān, who strangled her and took the infant. The other daughter was strangled in the tent. The saises (grooms) were at the time cleaning their horses, and one of them seeing his danger ran under the belly of his horse and called murder; but he was soon seized and strangled as well as all the rest. In order to prevent the party pitching the officers’ tents from hearing the disturbance, as soon as the signal was given those of the gang who were idle began to play and sing as loud as they could; and two vicious horses were let loose, and many ran after them calling out as loud as they could; so that the calls of the Munshi and his party were drowned.” They thought at first of keeping the infant, but decided that it was too risky, and threw it alive into the grave in which the other bodies had been placed. It is surprising to realise that in the above case about half a dozen people, awake and conscious, were killed forcibly in broad daylight within a few paces of a number of men occupied in pitching tents, without their noticing anything of the matter; and this may certainly be characterised as an instance of murder as a fine art to show the absolute callousness of the Thugs towards their victims and the complete absence of any feelings of compassion, the story of the following murder by the same gang may be recorded.[9] The Thugs were travelling from Nāgpur toward Jubbulpore with a party consisting of Newal Singh, a Jemādār (petty officer) in the Nizām’s army, his brother, his two daughters, one thirteen and the other eleven years old, his son about seven years old, two young men who were to marry the daughters, and four servants. At Dhūrna the house in which the Thugs lodged took fire, and the greater number of them were seized by the police, but were released at the urgent request of Newal Singh and his two daughters, who had taken a great fancy to Khimoli, the principal leader of the gang, and some of the others. Newal Singh was related to a native officer of the British detachment at Seoni and obtained his assistance for the release of the Thugs. At this time the gang had with them two bags of silk, the property of three carriers whom they had murdered in the great temple of Kamptee, and if they had been searched by the police these must have been discovered. On reaching Jubbulpore the Thugs found a lodging in the town with Newal Singh and his family. But the merchants who were expecting the silk from Nāgpur and found that it had not arrived, induced the Kotwāl to search the lodging of the Thugs. Hearing of the approach of the police, the leader Khimoli again availed himself of the attachment of Newal Singh and his daughters, and the girls were made to sit each upon one of the two bags of silk while the police searched the place. Nothing was found and the party again set out; and five days afterwards Newal Singh and his whole family were murdered at Biseni by the Thugs whom they had twice preserved from arrest.
6. Special incidents (continued)
These murderers looked on all travellers as their legitimate prey, as sportsmen regard game. On one occasion the noted Thug, Feringia,[10] with his gang were cooking their dinners under some trees on the road when five travellers came by, but could not be persuaded to stop and partake of the meal, saying they wished to sleep at a place called Hirora that night, and had yet eight miles to go. The Thugs afterwards followed, but found no traces of the travellers at Hirora. Feringia therefore concluded that they must have fallen into the hands of another gang, and suddenly recollected having passed an encampment of Banjāras (pack-carriers) not far from the town. On the following morning he accordingly went back with a few of his comrades, and at once recognised a horse and pony which he had observed in the possession of the travellers. So he asked the Banjāras, “What have you done with the five travellers, my good friends? You have taken from us our banij (merchandise).” They apologised for what they had done, pleading ignorance of the lien of the other Thugs, and offered to share the booty; but Feringia declined, as none of his party had been present at the loading. They were accustomed to distinguish their most important exploits by the number of persons who were killed. Thus one murder in the Jubbulpore District was known as the ‘Sāthrup,’ or ‘Sixty soul affair,’ and another in Bilāspur as the ‘Chālisrup,’ or ‘Murder of forty.’ At this time (1807) the road between northern and southern India through the Nerbudda valley had been rendered so unsafe by the incursions of the Pindāris that travellers preferred to go through Chhattīsgarh and Sambalpur to the Ganges. This route, passing for long distances through dense forest, offered great advantages to the Thugs, and was soon infested by them. In 1806, owing to the success[11] of previous expeditions, it was determined that all the Thugs of northern India should work on this road; accordingly after the Dasahra festival six hundred of them, under forty Jemādārs or leaders of note, set out from their homes, and having worshipped in the temple of Devi at Bindhyāchal, met at Ratanpur in Bilāspur. The gangs split up, and after several murders sixty of them came to Lānji in Bālāghāt, and here in two days’ time fell in with a party of thirty-one men, seven women and two girls on their way to the Ganges. The Jemādārs soon became intimate with the principal men of the party, pretended to be going to the same part of India and won their confidence; and next day they all set out and in four days reached Ratanpur, where they met 160 Thugs returning from the murder of a wealthy widow and her escort. Shortly afterwards another 200 men who had heard of the travellers near Nāgpur also came up, but all the different bodies pretended to be strangers to each other. They detached sixty men to return to Nāgpur, leaving 360 to deal with the forty travellers. From Ratanpur they all journeyed to Chura (Chhuri?), and here scouts were sent on to select a proper place for the murder. This was chosen in a long stretch of forest, and two men were despatched to the village of Sutranja, farther on the road, to see that no one was coming in the opposite direction, while another picket remained behind to prevent interruption from the rear. By the time they reached the appointed place, the Bhurtots (stranglers) and Shamsias (holders) had all on some pretext or other got close to the side of the persons whom they were appointed to kill; and on reaching the spot the signal was given in several places at the same time; and thirty-eight out of forty were immediately seized and strangled. One of the girls was a very handsome young woman, and Pancham, a Jemādār, wished to preserve her as a wife for his son. But when she saw her father and mother strangled she screamed and beat her head against the ground and tried to kill herself. Pancham tried in vain to quiet her, and promised to take great care of her and marry her to his own son, who would be a great chief; but all to no effect. She continued to scream, and at last Pancham put the rūmāl (handkerchief) round her neck and strangled her. One little girl of three years old was preserved by another Jemādār and married to his son, and when she grew up often heard the story of the affair narrated. The bodies were buried in a ravine and the booty amounted to Rs. 17,000. The Thugs then decided to return home, and arrived without mishap, except that the Jemādār, Pancham, died on the way.
7. Disguises of the Thugs
They were not particular, however, to ascertain that their victims carried valuable property before disposing of them. Eight annas (8d.), one of them said,[12] was sufficient remuneration for murdering a man. On another occasion two river Thugs killed two old men and obtained only a rupee’s worth of coppers, two brass vessels and their body-cloths. But as a rule the gains were much larger. It sometimes happened that the Thugs themselves were robbed at night by ordinary thieves, though they usually set a watch. On one occasion a band of more than a hundred Thugs fell in with a party of twenty-seven dacoits who had with them stolen property of Rs. 13,000 in cash, with gold ornaments, gems and shawls. The Thugs asked to be allowed to travel under their protection, and the dacoits carelessly assenting were shortly afterwards all murdered.[13] As already stated, the Thugs were accustomed to live in towns or villages and many of them ostensibly followed respectable callings. The following instance of this is given by Sir W. Sleeman:[14] “The first party of Thug approvers whom I sent into the Deccan to aid Captain Reynolds recognised in the person of one of the most respectable linen-drapers of the cantonment of Hingoli, Hari Singh, the adopted son of Jawāhir Sukul, Sūbahdār of Thugs, who had been executed twenty years before. On hearing that the Hari Singh of the list sent to him of noted Thugs at large in the Deccan was the Hari Singh of the Sadar Bazār, Captain Reynolds was quite astounded; so correct had he been in his deportment and all his dealings that he had won the esteem of all the gentlemen of the station, who used to assist him in procuring passports for his goods on their way from Bombay; and yet he had, as he has since himself shown, been carrying on his trade of murder up to the very day of his arrest with gangs of Hindustān and the Deccan on all the roads around and close to the cantonments of Hingoli; and leading out his band of assassins while he pretended to be on his way to Bombay for a supply of fresh linen and broad-cloth.” Another case is quoted by Mr. Oman from Taylor’s Thirty-eight Years in India.[15] “Dr. Cheek had a child’s bearer who had charge of his children. The man was a special favourite, remarkable for his kind and tender ways with his little charges, gentle in manner and unexceptionable in all his conduct. Every year he obtained leave from his master and mistress, as he said, for the filial purpose of visiting his aged mother for one month; and returning after the expiry of that time, with the utmost punctuality, resumed with the accustomed affection and tenderness the charge of his little darlings. This mild and exemplary being was the missing Thug; kind, gentle, conscientious and regular at his post for eleven months in the year he devoted the twelfth to strangulation.”
8. Secrecy of their operations
Again, as regards the secrecy with which murders were perpetrated and all traces of them hidden, Sir W. Sleeman writes:[16] “While I was in civil charge of the District of Narsinghpur, in the valley of the Nerbudda, in the years 1822–1824, no ordinary robbery or theft could be committed without my becoming aware of it, nor was there a robber or thief of the ordinary kind in the District with whose character I had not become acquainted in the discharge of my duties as magistrate; and if any man had then told me that a gang of assassins by profession resided in the village of Kandeli,[17] not four hundred yards from my court, and that the extensive groves of the village of Mundesur, only one stage from me on the road to Saugor and Bhopāl, were one of the greatest beles or places of murder in all India, and that large gangs from Hindustān and the Deccan used to rendezvous in these groves, remain in them for many days every year, and carry on their dreadful trade along all the lines of road that pass by and branch off from them, with the knowledge and connivance of the two landholders by whose ancestors these groves had been planted, I should have thought him a fool or a madman; and yet nothing could have been more true. The bodies of a hundred travellers lie buried in and around the groves of Mundesur; and a gang of assassins lived in and about the village of Kandeli while I was magistrate of the District, and extended their depredations to the cities of Poona and Hyderābād.”
9. Support of landholders and villagers
The system of Thuggee reached its zenith during the anarchic period of the decline of the Mughal Empire, when only the strongest and most influential could obtain any assistance from the State in recovering property or exacting reparation for the deaths of murdered friends and relatives. Nevertheless, the Thugs could hardly have escaped considerable loss even from private vengeance had they been compelled to rely on themselves for protection. But this was not the case, for, like the Badhaks and other robbers, they enjoyed the countenance and support of landholders and ruling chiefs in return for presenting them with the choicest of their booty and taking holdings of land at very high rents. Sir W. Sleeman wrote[18] that, “The zamīndārs and landholders of every description have everywhere been found ready to receive these people under their protection from the desire to share in the fruits of their expeditions, and without the slightest feeling of religious or moral responsibility for the murders which they know must be perpetrated to secure these fruits. All that they require from them is a promise that they will not commit murders within their estates and thereby involve them in trouble.” Sometimes the police could also be conciliated by bribes, and on one occasion when a body of Thugs who had killed twenty-five persons were being pursued by the Thākur of Powai[19] they retired upon the village of Tigura, and even the villagers came out to their support and defended them against his attack. Another officer wrote:[20] “To conclude, there seems no doubt but that this horrid crime has been fostered by all classes in the community—the landholders, the native officers of our courts, the police and village authorities—all, I think, have been more or less guilty; my meaning is not, of course, that every member of these classes, but that individuals varying in number in each class were concerned. The subordinate police officials have in many cases been practising Thugs, and the chaukīdārs or village watchmen frequently so.”