Between the Residency grounds, the “Sena Kaithel” and the great road, was the famous polo ground, where the best play in the world might be seen. There was a grand stand for the Royal family on the western side, and one for myself on the north. Sunday evening was the favourite day, and then the princes appeared, and in earlier days the Maharajah. In my time one of the Maharajah’s sons, Pucca Sena, and the artillery major, were the champion players. In Manipur, every man who can muster a pony plays, and every boy who cannot, plays on foot.
But to continue our walk. Passing the bazaar, we still skirt the palace, meeting fresh groups and turning sharp round at one of the angles of the moat, here covered with water lilies, come upon an exceedingly picturesque temple once shaded with a peepul tree (Ficus religiosa); this tree was torn off by the great earthquake of June 30th, 1880. Afterwards taking two turns to the right, and one to the left, and crossing a most dangerous-looking bamboo bridge, we came upon a piece of woodland on the opposite bank of the stream. This is the “Mah Wathee,” a bit of forest left as it originally was for the wood spirits. It is now filled with monkeys, which are great favourites with my children who have brought rice for them which causes great excitement. But it is soon bedtime for the young monkeys, and the river being deep, they spring on to the backs of their mothers who swim across with them in the most human fashion. Saying good-night to the monkeys, we go homewards, passing Moirang Khung, a tumulus said to be the site of a battle between the Mungang and Moirang tribes; to this day a Moirang avoids it. We pass a couple of boys riding jauntily on one pony, determined to get as much pleasure out of life as they can. Finally, we reach home in time for a game with the children, and dinner.
I have alluded to the high esteem in which the game of polo was held in this, its native home, and of the splendid play that could be seen on Sundays. I never played myself, much as I should have enjoyed it. Had I been a highly experienced player, able to contend with the best in Manipur, I might have done so; but I did not think I was justified, holding the important position I did, in running the risk of being hustled and jostled by any one with whom I played: men whom I was bound to keep at arm’s length. Had I done so I should have lost influence. I could not be hail-fellow-well-met, and though talking freely with all, I at once checked all disposition to familiarity, and people rarely attempted it.
Colonel McCulloch, it is true played, but he began life in Manipur as an Assistant Political Agent, and also did not succeed to office as I did, when our prestige had dwindled down to nothing.
In September 1879, hearing that Sir Steuart Bayley, Chief Commissioner and Acting Lieut.-Governor of Bengal, was about to visit Cachar, I went there to see him, performing the double journey including a night there, in less than seven days. It was the first time I had made the march in the rainy season, and I was greatly struck by the extreme beauty of the scenery which was much enhanced by the number of waterfalls, that a month later would have been dry. The masses of clouds and the clearness of the air when rain was not falling, added greatly to the effect, and I enjoyed the journey till I got to the low-lying land. There the mud, slush, and great heat were unpleasant. It was very satisfactory to be able to discuss the affairs of Manipur with the Chief Commissioner, as though I was not then directly under him, I was from my position very dependent on him, and was anxious to hear his views on many subjects.
Chapter XVI.
Punishment of female criminals—A man saved from execution—A Kuki executed—Old customs abolished—Anecdote of Ghumbeer Singh—The Manipuri army—Effort to re-organise Manipur levy—System of rewards—“Nothing for nothing”—An English school—Hindoo festivals—Rainbows—View from Kang-joop-kool.
Manipur professed to follow the old Hindoo laws, and accordingly no woman was ever put to death, or to very severe punishment. When one was convicted of any heinous or disgraceful offence she was exposed on a high platform in every bazaar in the country, stripped to the waist, round which a rope, one end of which was held by her guard, was tied and her breasts painted red. A crier at the same time proclaimed her crime, and with a loud voice called out from time to time, “Come and look at this naughty woman!”
Exposure on a platform was also a punishment inflicted occasionally on male offenders. Sometimes it was followed by death. Once I saved a man from this part of the sentence, his crime being one for which our law would not have exacted so severe a penalty. Fortunately, I heard in time, and a message to the Maharajah in courteous, but unmistakable terms, brought about a remission of the capital portion. The ministers generally consulted me before carrying out sentence of death. Once in a case of murder by a Kuki they asked my opinion, so I requested them to send the man to me that I might examine him myself. This was done, and as he confessed openly to being guilty, I told them they might execute him, and as an after-thought said “How shall you put him to death?” Bularam Singh replied, “According to the custom of Manipur, in the way in which he committed the murder. As he split his victim’s head open with an axe so will his head be split open.” I said “I have no objection in this case on the score of humanity, but it is not a pretty mode of execution; some day there will be a case accompanied by circumstances of cruelty, when I shall be obliged to interfere; so take my advice, and on this occasion and all future ones, adopt decapitation as the mode of carrying out a death sentence. You can do it now with a good grace, and without any apparent interference on my part to offend your dignity.” Old Bularam Singh said, “Oh no, the laws of Manipur are unalterable, we cannot change; we must do as we have always done.” I said, “Nonsense, my old friend, go with Chumder Singh (my native secretary and interpreter) and give my kind message to the Maharajah, and say what I advise, as his friend.” In half-an-hour Chumder Singh returned with an assurance that my advice was accepted, and from that time decapitation was the form of capital punishment adopted.