Seedtime in Kashmir: A Memoir of William Jackson Elmslie

by William Jackson Elmslie

"Lastly, the produce of the country is almost everything that heart could wish. As regards grain, it is especially a rice-growing country, but really almost every kind of grain may be and is grown there. No greater testimony to the extreme fertility of the country can be given than the fact that, notwithstanding the terrible extortion and oppression to which the people are subject, the agricultural part of the population is well clothed, and generally far from lean. But, of course, what strikes a visitor is not the grain, but the fruit, and of this there is the greatest variety and abundance....

"But there is a great 'but' to all these which spoils everything. With all this light there is a deep shadow. And why should I stop and hesitate to mention and to repeat that which comes up first into my mind–the disgraceful oppression of the people. Yes, disgraceful to us English, for we sold, literally sold, the country into the hands of its present possessors; and selling it, sold with it the flesh and blood of thousands of our fellow creatures,–sold them into a perpetual slavery. Disgraceful, too, that it should lie under the shadow of our well-ruled provinces, and yet be so ground down; that the ruler should be a tributary of ours, and yet be allowed so to tyrannize.

"It is impossible that this oppression can cease so long as the Maharajah keeps up an army so utterly disproportionate to the size of his country. He must grind the faces of the poor to sustain such a large permanent force. That the army is ill-paid, discontented, inefficient, none can doubt, but still the men must have something given them to keep them in service.... This year, at a review which was on a Sunday, in honour of Sir H. Durand, the powder flask of one man blew up while a regiment was formed in square, and the explosion passed from man to man until more than eighty were prostrate. The army may do very well to bully the Kashmiri, or plunder the weak native states around, but it would never even think of standing before a British force....

"But what is this oppression that I have spoken of? It is this–that at one swoop half of every man's produce goes into the Government treasury. Half of everything, not merely of his grain, but even of the produce of his cattle, or whatever he has; so that from each cow he must give every second year a calf to Government, and from every half dozen of his chickens three go to the all-devouring sirkar. More than this even, his very fruit trees are watched by Government and half taken for the Maharajah. A poor Kashmiri can call nothing his own. But, in reality, it is not only half a man loses, for at least another quarter is taken by the rapacious government officials who have to collect the nominal half. Shakdars, Kárdárs, Ziladárs, soldiers, and others, all come in for their share. The wonder is, how the people exist at all. Of course I am a credulous missionary, and believed every story I heard, but I should like to find the man in Kashmir who could deny these facts. But it is not only the poor peasants who suffer; perhaps the condition of the shawl weavers is worse still. They are all the servants of the Government, which supplies them with material, and doles out to them a scanty pittance of two annas a day, and then sells them the rice (which it has taken from the peasants) at any price which it chooses to set upon it. These shawl weavers are a lean wan race, recognisable at once from their sallow complexion, thin cheeks and desponding look. Of course the idea at once suggests itself, why do not all the people run away and come into India? But if they had the chance, can you wonder at their almost preferring to starve in their own home paradise rather than live in the furnace of India? Yet numbers of Kashmiris do prefer India to their own lovely land, simply because in India every man can live and be his own master, whatever else he has to put up with. But few are the happy men who can get away. A few are allowed to go into India, if they leave their wives and families behind as a guarantee for their speedy return, but only a few. As I was leaving Kashmir, two or three of these shawl weavers smuggled themselves out of the country as my coolies. I knew they must be shawl weavers from their pinched faces, and so did the soldiers stationed at the top of the Pir Panjal to prevent people escaping into India, and the guard would have stopped them, but that they had no coolies to give me instead of them to carry my loads.[2] ... Of course, this oppression gives the whole country a look of poverty. No one can help being struck as he enters Srinagar by the dilapidated look of the place.... There is no respectable quarter, not a single good street; scarcely even a single respectable bazaar, considering the size of the place. And what is true of Srinagar is more than true of all the smaller towns. They are ruinous in the extreme.

"In the country hundreds of acres of land are mere swamp, or almost unused pasture ground that might smile with corn. Everywhere the fruits are degenerating, because the people don't care to cultivate that of which they obtain so little; and an old Kashmiri told me that he could recollect the day when there were eighteen different kinds of grapes, but now most of them have died out, and there are only four or five kinds to be had in the whole valley....

"But there are other things in Kashmir which most terribly detract from its pleasure as a place of residence. The dirt is beyond description. Who can tell what Kashmir smells are? Not the odours of roses, such as one has expected to fill the air; but, oh! such, that the dirtiest of London courts is sweeter than the cleanest of Kashmir villages. The clothes, too, of the people are filthy; not that the filth shows much, for all their garments are of grey wool, which is a most perfect concealer of dirt; but not a few of their diseases are the result of their uncleanliness, and how often I have almost shrunk away from them, as, in my dispensary, while I have been examining a patient, I have seen the lice crawling on his clothes and his fleas skipping over to me. Of course, if you can avoid all intercourse with the natives, then dirt is not such a continual source of annoyance, but to us it was a daily trouble. But yet there is one thing which makes a Christian man far more sad than those things I have spoken of, and that is the frightful immorality of the people, and the even less excusable wickedness of our countrymen. It may be that the latter is not so bad as it was–that vice is less open and shameless than it was a few years ago–but it is so open and so bad that no one need be afraid to speak of it. It is a fact that none can conceal, that numbers of young men only know Kashmir as the place where they can gratify every unhallowed passion; and an army surgeon, high in the service, told me that numbers of young officers went up every year to Kashmir in perfect health, and, after six months in its splendid climate, came down into India only to be invalided home, and many to suffer more or less for life from their own wicked folly.... Well might I be taunted, as I was, when I tried to preach the gospel in villages far distant from the capital, with the unblushing wickedness of my own countrymen. How steeped the people themselves are in sin none can tell but those who have seen them as I have done. How one corroding sin seems to be eating out the vitals of all classes, casual visitors to the valley would perhaps scarcely guess. They may say, as every one does, that there are no such liars and deceivers in the world, as in Kashmir; no, not even in India; but the utterly rotten state of social life they will probably have little idea of.

"But let me leave this and just say a few closing words as to mission work. It seems to me that the Church Missionary Society have most wisely associated themselves with the Punjaub Medical Missionary Society in sending a medical man as missionary to this difficult and delicate field of labour."...

The Church Missionary Intelligencer for 1st August 1866 gives the following brief notice of what had been attempted in the way of missionary effort amongst the truly necessitous Kashmiris, up to the season that preceded Dr. Elmslie's arrival:–

"The two first missionaries of the Church Missionary Society by whom the valley was visited, the Rev. W. Smith of Benares, and the Rev. R. Clark of Peshawur, reached Kashmir in the spring of 1863. At the end of the summer Mr. Smith returned to his station at Benares, and Mr. Clark, after an ineffectual attempt to remain in the valley during the winter, was compelled, by the opposition of the authorities, to return to the plains.