DACOITY
Commission appointed in 1837 to consider means for the suppression
of Dacoity--Story of a daring attack upon government--Disguises
assumed by Dacoits--The Brinjaras--The “Byragee” or religious
devotee--Professional poisoners and highway robbers--The
datura--Its action and employment--Hereditary descendants
of Thugs--Predatory tribes of criminal instinct--Some noted
Dacoits--Female leaders--Theft of government treasure in a British
garrison--A Dacoit’s revenge.
It has been asserted that although Thuggee has been ostensibly stamped
out in India, road murders are still committed in considerable numbers
by the agency of poison administered to travellers, and that this is
the work of Bhowanee’s votaries carrying on the old business, still
impelled by their horrible religion. This impression is believed to be
erroneous. There is no evidence that the gang-robbers who undoubtedly
use poison such as opium, arsenic, datura and other drugs to stupefy
or kill their victims, belong to the fell organisation so long a
scourge in Indian society; or that the worship of Bhowanee, observed
with such murderous rites, still exists in India. Nevertheless, the
administration of poison by professional robbers, who infested the
main roads and lurked in the vicinity of large towns, was largely
and for the most part mysteriously practised until a comparatively
recent date, if it is not indeed still prevalent. It was one of the
forms of Dacoity, a crime akin to Thuggee, but without its religious
pretensions, and ever one of the most serious evils combated by the
British government. This widespread plague throve and prospered by
reason of the fierceness and audacity of certain classes and the
timidity and submissiveness characteristic of others. “In Bengal
proper,” says Sir Richard Temple, “it was a crime with an extensive
organisation, having professional ringleaders followed by gangs of
enrolled men.” It was repressed and to a great extent broken up by
the strong administrative machinery of the British government, but
the crime still crops up in a milder form and is “one of the earliest
symptoms of impending scarcity, political excitement or any social
trouble.”
We may pause to examine some of the earlier records of Dacoity. A
commission to consider its suppression was instituted in India in the
year 1837. Hitherto but little had been ascertained of the character
or methods employed by this class of criminal. Although Dacoities were
every day committed and reported by the magistrates, it was thought
that these gangs resided for the most part between the Ganges and
Jumna rivers and in the kingdom of Oude, but information regarding
their habits and location was vague and uncertain. Everyone talked of
Budhuk Dacoits and their daring robberies, but no one knew who or what
they were, whence they came or how their system was organised. In the
course of this inquiry, the magistrate of the Gorruckpore district,
which borders on the kingdom of Oude, informed the government that the
Dacoits were not inhabitants of any part of the British territories
but organised banditti from Oude, and that to deal effectively with
this crime was altogether beyond the power of the magistrates of the
district and the local police. He instanced in proof of the strength
and daring of the Dacoits the details of an attack made upon a party
of government treasure-bearers in 1822. This story was related long
afterward to an English official by one of the Dacoits concerned in the
affair and is given in his own words as follows:
“About eighteen years ago Lutee Jemadar sent a messenger to me to say
that he should like to join me in an expedition, and I went to him with
Jugdeum and Toke to settle preliminaries. The first day was spent in
feasting and nothing was settled about business. On the following day
he told me that remittances of government treasure went every month
from Peprole to Gorruckpore, and if we were prudent we might get some
of it. It had, however, become known that an escort of troopers and
foot-soldiers always accompanied these remittances and unless the
attack was in the nature of a surprise some casualties were likely to
occur. After exploring the ground, it was seen that the way passed
through an extensive jungle, so thick that horsemen could not safely
leave the high road.” A point in this jungle was selected for the
attack and to facilitate it strong ropes were fastened across the
road ahead, while other ropes were in readiness to block it behind
so soon as treasure and escort had passed through. A gang of forty
was collected for the robbery, ten matchlock-men, ten swordsmen and
twenty-five spearmen, who proceeded to lie in ambush awaiting news of
the approach of their prey. On the third morning it was near at hand,
the ropes ahead were fixed and a number of men posted, armed with
matchlocks loaded with shot, as the Dacoits did not desire to take
life. As soon as the trap was laid and the time of retreat intercepted,
fire was opened from all sides. The escort was thrown into confusion,
the foot soldiers sought refuge in the bush, the horsemen tried to
escape by jumping over the ropes, while the thieves broke in upon the
treasure and took possession of some 12,000 rupees.
Daring attacks of this kind by gangs drawn from this great family
of professional and hereditary robbers were frequent in all parts
of India. No district between the Berhampootra, the Nurbudda, the
Sutlej and the Himalayas was free from them, and no merchant or
manufacturer could feel himself secure for a single night from
the depredations of Budhuk Dacoits. In 1822, in the district of
Nursingpoor in the Nurbudda valley, in the dusk of evening, a party
of about thirty persons, apparently armed with nothing but walking
sticks in their hands, passed the picket of Sepahees, who stood with
a native commissioned officer on the bank of a rivulet separating
the cantonments from the town of Nursingpoor. On being challenged
by the sentries, they said they were cowherds who had been out with
their cattle which were following close behind. They walked up the
street, and having arrived in front of the houses of the most wealthy
merchants, they set their torches in a blaze by a sudden blow upon the
pots containing combustibles; everybody who ventured to move or to make
the slightest noise was stabbed; the houses were plundered, and in ten
minutes more the assailants fled with their booty, leaving about twelve
persons dead and wounded on the ground. A magistrate close at hand
despatched large parties of foot and horse police in all directions,
but no one was seized nor was it discovered whence the gang had come,
or any particulars as to their identities. This occurred in the month
of February, when marriage processions take place every day in all
large towns; the nights are long, and much money is circulated in the
purchase of cotton in all cotton districts like that of Nursingpoor.
There was a large police guard within twenty paces of the Dacoity on
one side, and this picket of Sepahees within a hundred paces on the
other. Both saw the blaze of the torches and heard the noise, but both
mistook it for a marriage procession, and the first intimation given
of the real character of the party was by a little boy, who had crept
along a ditch unobserved by the Dacoits, and half dead with fright,
whispered to the officer commanding them that they were robbers and had
killed his father. Before the officer could get his men ready, all were
gone and nothing more was heard of them until twenty years later, when
the perpetrators of the attack were detected and brought to justice.
The Dacoits sometimes assumed disguises to hide the real nature of
their business. In 1818 a notorious leader named Maheran with a gang
of fifty Budhuks, set out from Khyradee in the Oude Terai under the
disguise of bird catchers. They had with them falcons, hawks of all
kinds, well-trained, also mynas, parrots and other varieties of
speaking and mocking birds. At Bareilly, in Oude, they were joined
by another small gang, and all proceeded in pursuit of some treasure
on its way from Benares westward, carried by ponies under charge of
twenty-four _burkundazes_, “native watchmen,” and policemen. They
determined to attack the treasure party at their halting place between
Allahabad and Cawnpore. A boat had been purchased to keep along the
bank of the river, ready to help the party across after the attack,
and by this the women and children were all landed on the Oude side
of the river opposite the Serai. Maheran with two or three selected
men in disguise remained with the treasure until they saw it safely
lodged for the night, when he returned to his gang to make arrangements
for the attack. Ladders, torches and handles for the spear-heads and
axes had been provided in the usual way, and two hours after dark they
scaled the wall of the Serai. Meanwhile confederates within broke open
the gate from the inside and stood over it to prevent interruption,
while the rest attacked the escort and secured the treasure. They
killed six persons of the guards, wounded seventeen and secured 70,000
rupees.
Maheran was captured in a later expedition and hanged, but his widow
Moneea took his place as leader of the gang and shortly afterward
fitted out another expedition to Junnukpoor in the Nepal territory
several hundred miles to the east of their bivouac, to intercept
some treasure on its way to the capital, Khatmandu. This expedition
consisted of eighty chosen men and seven women. After taking the
auspices they set out in small parties toward the appointed place
of rendezvous. On the way, one of the parties, under a leader named
Johuree, fell in with fifteen bullocks laden with treasure under the
charge of eighty Gorkhas. The Dacoits, being in disguise, managed
to join the escort without exciting suspicion and ascertained that
they were carrying a treasure to the value of 64,000 rupees from the
collector’s treasury in the plain to the capital. Johuree ordered two
of his men to continue with the escort and went on himself with the
rest to join the other leaders at the appointed place and to consult
with them. He found that only a part of the gang had arrived and these
thought it wiser to postpone an attack until the rest came up, saying,
“If we succeed in taking the treasure, many of our friends must be
seized on suspicion and beaten into confessions that may lead to the
ruin of all, whereas if we forbear this time we shall be all collected
before the next monthly remittance goes up, and we may secure it with
little hazard to our friends or to ourselves.”
Johuree urged that one bird in the hand was worth two in the bush
and at length prevailed upon the others to accept his counsel. They
mustered fifty men and prepared to follow the treasure. The two scouts
continued with the treasure escort in the disguise of pilgrims, and
when they had seen it safely lodged at a spot under the first range of
hills and had carefully reconnoitred the position, one of them hastened
to Johuree with his report. All now set out and reached the village
of Bughalee in the evening. From this place Johuree went forward to
reconnoitre and found the treasure lodged in a fortified place with a
wall and ditch all around it. A party of four or five hundred traders
who carried goods from the plains to the hills were encamped on the
edge of the ditch. After carefully surveying the position, Johuree
returned to his friends and ordered that a couple of stout ladders
twenty feet long should be made out of wood cut in the forest.
Advancing in silence, they placed these ladders and got over the ditch
and wall close to where the treasure lay. It was about midnight, with
a good moon and clear sky, but still they thought it necessary to
light their torches, and under the blaze they commenced the attack.
The escort was taken by surprise and made but a feeble resistance. The
gang took the whole amount of 64,000 rupees and effected their retreat
without losing a man. On reaching a retired spot two or three miles
from the scene of action, they divided the spoil, but every man had
too much to admit of rapid travelling, so 17,000 rupees were buried at
this place, and with the remaining 47,000 rupees the party moved on
through the forest. As soon as news of the loss of the treasure reached
the Nepal cantonments at Jalesar, whence it had been despatched, every
suspicious person that could be found was seized. Two regiments then
stationed at Jalesar were despatched through the forest to the westward
to intercept the robbers, and fell in with some of Johuree’s party,
from whom they recovered a portion of the treasure, while Johuree got
safely home with the rest.
The precision with which veterans remembered and described Dacoities
at which they had assisted during their lives was often wonderful. One
of the leaders of the Oude Terai gangs named Lucke, when arrested,
described forty-nine Dacoities at which he had been present during
his career of twenty-five years. The local authorities to whom his
narratives were sent endorsed his account of forty-one as having been
perpetrated precisely as he described them, though many of them had
taken place near Calcutta, some four or five hundred miles from the
bivouac in Oude forest from which the gang had set out.
Reference has been made to the disguises assumed by the Dacoits. The
most suitable to the locality in which they were about to work were
as a rule selected. Thus, north of the Jumna they became carriers of
Ganges, or holy water, because men of that class were continually to
be met with on those roads. South of the Jumna they pretended to be
pilgrims journeying to some sacred shrine, or relatives sadly conveying
the bones of the departed to the banks of the Ganges, or the friends
of a bridegroom sent to fetch and bring home his bride. The rôle of
funeral mourners was very popular because out of respect for their
sorrowful business they were treated with much deference and subjected
to no inconvenient inquiries as to whence they came or whither they
were going. The bones they carried were commonly those of inferior
animals, wild or domestic; they were kept in bags,--red for male
bones, white for female,--and at their halting places these bags were
suspended from the apex of a triangle formed by three stout poles, to
be used later as the handles for the spear-heads concealed in their
waistbands. Another favourite disguise was that of the Brinjaras, the
traditional carriers of grain and salt, who travel long distances
conveying the grain to the sea coast and returning with the salt. These
Brinjaras were a peculiar and distinct race, who were much employed by
the Duke of Wellington (when Sir Arthur Wellesley) as food-carriers
in his Indian campaigns. Their appearance was distinctive and their
costume peculiar; of intelligent countenance and strongly knit, wiry
frames, they dressed--the women especially--in fantastic parti-coloured
clothes; the women’s arms were completely encased from shoulder to
wrist in bracelets of bone or ivory; they wore coins round their
necks and curiously interwoven in their hair, which gave a strange,
flighty, wild air to their always expressive and sometimes good-looking
faces. The Brinjaras strictly adhered to certain customs; they did not
intermarry, and lived in no fixed abode, although they halted often
in the same encampment for some time; they observed the stars and
scrupulously followed omens; they spoke the languages of most of the
places they visited, but had a peculiar dialect of their own. They had
no defined religion.
A good account of the Brinjaras is given by Reginald Heber, Bishop of
Calcutta, in his “Indian Travels.” “We passed a large encampment of
‘Brinjaras,’” he writes, “or carriers of grain, a singular wandering
race, who pass their whole time in transporting this article from
one part of the country to another, seldom on their own account, but
as agents for more wealthy dealers. They move about in large bodies
with their wives, children, dogs and loaded bullocks. The men are all
armed as a protection against petty thieves. From the sovereigns and
armies of Hindustan they have no apprehensions. Even contending armies
allow them to pass and repass safely, never taking their goods without
purchase, nor even preventing them, if they choose, from victualling
their enemy’s camp. Both sides wisely agree to respect and encourage a
branch of industry, the interruption of which might be attended with
fatal consequences to both.”
The Brinjaras’ disguise not only served as a convenient cloak for
the Dacoits, but they sometimes followed the nefarious business on
their own account. The larger number no doubt were fairly honest and
industrious people, but some succumbed to the temptation of their
roving life and the facilities offered for criminal acts in their
extensive wanderings, taking to Dacoity and to the kidnapping of
children, a profitable business, especially of female children for
whom there was a ready sale. General Charles Hervey, the famous Indian
police officer, had but a poor opinion of the Brinjaras, whom he called
formidable robbers. His account of them is, however, interesting as
supplementing Bishop Heber’s. He came across them in large numbers
at the Sambhur Salt Lake not far from Jeypore, which they visited
from the most distant regions, with immense droves of pack bullocks,
bringing grain and taking away salt. He says: “Their animals may be
seen tethered in hundreds on the wide shores of the extensive lake,
each _tanda_ or company of their sort being camped under a distinct
Naik, or headman, in the centre of the drove appertaining to it, with
their bullock packs or panniers neatly collected in piles of hundreds
in their midst. In the daytime, when halted, their cattle are taken
out to pasture wherever pasture may be obtained, tended by the fewest
men, often mere lads, and not infrequently by girls; at evening they
are driven home, when a piece of oil-cake is given to each animal,
called by name, and it is curious to watch the process, how well each
animal knows its name and waits expectantly for its turn to be called.
At night the bullocks are tethered by means of a rope passed round
their front feet and entwined with another rope fixed to the ground
with strong stakes. They are picketed in this manner with their heads
turned inwards, in a circle round the resting place of their owners in
their midst, and fires are kept burning throughout the night to scare
away tigers or other beasts of prey. I have come upon the encampments
of these roving people, in the wildest jungles, or threading their
way with their long straggling lines of laden cattle through the most
intricate ground, whether of rock, forest, sand-hills, or marsh, and
have been quite fascinated by the strangeness of their manner and their
quaint wild ways.”
Another successful disguise made use of by the Dacoits in Central
India was that of the garb and appearance of Alkuramies, a peculiar
class of pilgrims who travelled in small parties accompanying a high
priest, who was represented as the leader of the gang. “They had four
or five tents, some of white and some of dyed cloth, and two or three
pairs of _nakaras_, or ‘kettle drums,’ and trumpets, with a great
number of buffaloes, cows, goats, sheep and ponies. Some were clothed,
but the bodies of the greater part were covered with nothing but shoes
and a small cloth waistband. Those who had long hair went bareheaded
and those who had nothing but short hair wore a piece of cloth round
the head.” The pretended Alkuramies always took the precaution of
hiring the services of half a dozen genuine Byragees or ascetics, whom
they put forward in difficult emergencies.
They are strange people, these Byragees, or religious devotees, whether
pretended or real. There are many classes of them with various names:
Jogis, Sunyasis, Byragis, Aghunhotas, and mostly all incorrigible
rogues. When travelling in bands they are stalwart naked fellows,
strong-limbed and sturdy, unpleasant to meet abroad despite their sham
sanctity. Their solicitation of alms is more like a threat as they
offer their begging bowls, peremptorily demanding contributions. They
do not whine or fawn like ordinary beggars, but lift their voices in
execration when their appeals are not readily met and with their naked
slate-coloured bodies raised to their full height, they cast dust into
the air to emphasise their maledictions. Whether by alms or thefts, the
mendicant leads an easy, lazy life, his needs are well cared for by the
charitable who firmly believe they “acquire merit” by ministering to
them.
General Charles Hervey has given a graphic account of a Byragee he
came across at Thunjna on the edge of Rajputana, whose lair or _mhut_
was on one of the hills above the town. It was “erected nearly at
the very top of it among several overhanging rocks, and reached only
by a long parapeted causeway, all substantially constructed of solid
masonry, but not yet completed. The ascetic in possession was in the
usual nude condition, four square inches of rag forming his entire
personal apparel. His body was covered with ashes, his head folded
round and round with his own braided hair like a tall tiara, and
his face and forehead plastered with white symbolic daubs. Sleek he
was, and in good condition withal--not at all a starving mendicant,
whatever his penances; and he had a fat pony too, in a well-littered
shed close by his own comfortable den, to get up to and scramble into
which must cause the good little beast some trouble. I asked the man
why thus disfigure himself? I was rebuked for the impertinence by no
reply, as, silently beholding me, he squatted on his upraised hams
on the stone-built terrace of the lofty spot.... He had, like most
of his kind throughout India, wandered to many distant regions and
sacred spots, famed from olden times as places to be visited, whatever
the difficulties of the pilgrimage.... He had, indeed, been a mighty
traveller and persistent pilgrim, this nude, besmeared gymnosophist,
of small wants and great energy, and the naked hermit became quite
attractive, rapt as he was, however unclothed and unbeauteous, as he
narrated his ‘painful marchings’ and the wondrous sights he had beheld
and bowed down to.
“Other equally devoted and fanatic individuals, leading, like this man,
eremitical lives in caves and hovels in wild and unfrequented spots and
inaccessible places on crags or rocky eminences by side of river or
sea, or on temple-topped hill or difficult mountain peak, held sacred
as the abode of their Devi and not to be profaned, may be met with,
... but few so observant or so communicative and friendly.... Many
are their devices of evil-doing when abroad; and here I confine the
remark to those who are not what they seem to be. Thugs, poisoners and
kidnappers are to be found among Jogis. When visiting Dwarka many years
ago, I was loudly cursed by a Byragee for not readily enough yielding
to his demand for alms, and as I put off from the shore, to give
point to his execrations, the angered fellow, stark and gray, seemed
a very blue devil, as, standing to his full height and with both arms
stretched upwards, he flung dust into the air while uttering his direst
maledictions.”
Professional poisoning in carrying out highway robbery was at one time
spread over every portion of the province of Bengal, and there is no
doubt it was equally prevalent in Bombay and Madras. Murders were
constantly committed along the road upon unwary travellers who rashly
joined company with strangers deliberately purposing to kill and rob
them; and numbers of thefts were also perpetrated by the administration
of drugs to render their victims insensible and at their mercy.
The crime was greatly aided by the facility with which poison in some
form or other could be obtained. Many shopkeepers traded in poisons,
selling these goods openly and with the most reckless indifference.
Even when the law laid restrictions on the sale of poisons, the evilly
disposed could provide himself from the roots of trees in the jungle,
garden or wayside, or they might be bought from the numerous travelling
quacks, and the local _hakims_ or “native doctors” were often not
unwilling to supply the noxious drugs. Moreover, in almost every
village some hag of evil repute, half-witch, half-midwife, given to
criminal practices and commonly believed to be a professional poisoner,
did a systematic business in supplying drugs. Upon one old woman, who
was arrested near Sasseram in 1835, were found letters and credentials
from numerous members of the poisoning community at large who dealt
with her.
The drug most commonly used by the road poisoners is produced from
the datura plant, _stramonium_, both the purple flowered and the white
flowered, and is prepared from the seeds or the leaves. Its noxious
effects were well known to the ancients. In “Purchas: His Pilgrimage,”
that most famous series of seventeenth century travels, we read, “They
have (in India) an Herbe called Durroa which causeth distraction
without understanding anything done in a man’s presence; sometimes
it maketh a man sleepe as if hee was dead for the space of four and
twenty hours and in much quantity it killeth.” It is referred to in
Burton’s “Anatomy of Melancholy.” Garcias ab Horto makes mention of
“an herbe called daturah, which if it be eaten, for twenty-four hours
following takes away all sense of grief, makes them incline to laughter
and mirth.” As an instrument in facilitating theft and other criminal
designs its properties were widely recognised. In Bengal it was usually
given as an ingredient of sweetmeats, or mixed with bread or coffee,
sherbet, milk, _tari_, “native spirits,” or introduced into tobacco.
It was relied upon to stupefy; not necessarily to kill, but to produce
intoxication or delirium, or profound lethargy resembling coma, with
dilated pupils but natural respiration. Even when life is not seriously
endangered, the effects of the poison upon the person are such that
they seldom recover their bodily vigour. One was still a cripple after
a dose taken seven years before; another continued unable to articulate
and was like a man stricken with paralysis. Memory is long impaired
and often never recovered; idiocy sometimes supervenes. The detection
of the crime is thus prevented. If death occurs, it may be attributed
to disease, suicide or wild beasts; if the patient survives, he has no
clear idea what has happened to him.
The action of datura is generally an indication that it has been
administered. It is not only a powerful narcotic, but there are quite
unmistakably characteristic symptoms. The patient, if not incapable
of movement, will perform the most fantastic antics, will exhibit
great excitement, ramble in his talk, fly into a violent rage when
questioned. As it takes effect, the sufferer grows very thirsty, and
dry in the throat. There are three stages or sets of symptoms observed:
First, headache, dryness of the mucous membrane, difficulty in walking,
languor, impairment of vision, with the pupils greatly dilated; second,
maniacal delirium, flushed face, eyes glistening, violent perspiration
from incessant motion; third, insensibility, coma and possibly collapse
with fatal results. In the last condition the sufferer becomes giddy,
staggers, falls and dies.
Some of the cases of poisoning by datura may be quoted here to show the
boldness with which it was practised. One crime was committed in a Jain
temple near Bhagalpur in Bengal, where the victims were the priest and
two of his attendants. The latter were found one morning in a state of
mad intoxication, reeling about the ground, and the priest was missing,
but his body was picked up three days afterward in a dry well. It was
the work of a gang of professional poisoners who had visited the temple
ostensibly to make an offering to the god but in reality to murder the
priest. One of them bought sweetmeats which were doctored with powdered
datura-seed, and handed them over to the priest for presentation.
According to custom, he ate some of the sweetmeats, giving a part also
to the two temple attendants. The poisoners waited till the drug had
taken effect and then attacked the priest who was lying unconscious
near the shrine; one of them throttled him; a second sat heavily upon
his chest; a third held his hands, and a fourth trampled him underfoot.
The helpless victim soon died in convulsions. The next act was to rifle
the secret treasury kept in an inner chamber, and the plunder was
stowed in sacks and carried away in a cart. In the end by the aid of
“approvers” seven of the robbers were arrested. Three were sentenced to
death, and the others to transportation for life to the Andaman Islands.
Numerous victims of the crime of road poisoning were found among the
Powindahs or Afghan traders who travel down every year from above the
passes on the northwest frontier and who brought their strings of
camels laden with merchandise and products of the soil, or drove a good
business in horse-dealing. They sold cloth and shawls, condiments,
sun-dried fruits, sweetmeats, valuable furs, long-haired Persian
cats, strong, surefooted little horses called _yaboos_. They visited
all parts of India as far as Cape Comorin, and when their goods were
sold, congregated at certain points for the homeward journey, and with
their wallets well-lined, they were a likely prey for the poisoners.
Although shrewd bargainers, they are an unwary lot not difficult to
dupe and cajole. These “Cabulis,” as they were styled, were at one time
the constant victims of datura poisoning in Bombay, where they often
collected to enjoy the proceeds of their trading and purchase goods to
carry home. Numbers of them were admitted to the hospital suffering
from poison, the fatal effects of which they had escaped, thanks to
their robust constitutions.
Once at Patna, in Bengal, a horse-dealer from Cabul, who had disposed
of his stud profitably, rashly made friends with a couple of rogues
whom he met by the way and who had so ingratiated themselves with him
as to be accepted as travelling companions. On reaching Benares one of
them, who passed as the other’s servant, went on ahead to a Serai to
prepare food, which was ready on the arrival of the party and of which
the Afghan partook with the others. All were seized with the usual
symptoms, and while insensible the horse-dealer was robbed. Again, a
party of five, travelling from Calcutta, were beguiled on the way by an
obliging stranger whom they presently engaged to go out and buy food
for them in the bazaar and prepare it for them. They left the Serai
with him to continue their journey by rail, but were found unconscious
on the way to the station, having been robbed of their money and most
of their apparel.
General Hervey quotes a curious instance of the heredity of the
criminal instinct which showed itself in the descendants of the old
Thugs settled at Jubbulpore, in the days of the active pursuit of these
murderers by Sir William Sleeman. A generation of young Thugs had
grown up around the School of Industry, a kind of reformatory for the
offspring of the captured criminals, and the careers of some of these
have been followed. Many of the youths found employment with European
gentlemen as private servants, and in one particular instance the
inherited propensity was curiously illustrated. A railway engineer, Mr.
Upham, employed in the construction of the Indian Peninsula Railway,
was stationed at Sleemanabad near Jubbulpore. Returning home one
evening, much fatigued after a long tour of inspection, he lay down
to rest on his bed and from his tent, the curtain of which was raised
for ventilation, he saw two of his table servants--both of them lads
from the reformatory--engaged in cooking his dinner. He presently
noticed that they squeezed into the pot on the fire certain green pods
they had plucked from a neighbouring bush, and presuming they were
herbs of some sort added for flavour, he said nothing, but he was
curious and having little appetite he dined very lightly, chiefly on
rice and milk. He picked some of the pods, however, and put them in
his pocket, where they remained till next day, when he became ill and
rode over to see the doctor. He fainted when he reached the doctor’s
office. Restoratives being promptly applied, he so far recovered as to
be able to produce the pods which the doctor at once pronounced to be
of datura. Suspicion thus aroused, the two servants were arrested and
brought to trial, when the head cook was convicted and sentenced to six
years’ imprisonment. This boy was of the old Thug stock, and obviously
the desire to destroy human life was in his blood, brought out by
greed; for the object was, of course, to rob Mr. Upham while he was
unconscious.
They were apparently irreclaimable, these Thug children. One boy was
detained in prison until grown up in the hope that he would prove
well-conducted. All his relations had been Thugs; his father (who
had been executed), his uncles, brothers and forebears for several
generations, and numbers of them had suffered the extreme penalty. He
was cognisant of their misdeeds and the retribution that overtook them,
but his own inclinations lay the same way, and no sooner was he at
large than he embraced the evil trade and was soon known as a _jemadar_
with an increasing reputation as a daring leader of Dacoits. Eventually
he was won over to the side of justice and did good service as an
“approver.”
A noted Thug poisoner of later days was a certain Rora, the Meerasee--a
class of hereditary singers--who was long criminally active and
in the end was sentenced to transportation for nineteen years on
several counts. His favourite victims were the drivers of bullock
hackeries, which with an accomplice he would hire, and after they
were taken several stages, he would become friendly with the driver,
offering food, drink or tobacco, which was, of course, drugged and
produced the usual narcotic effects. When the driver fell off his box
insensible, they left him to lie there and made off with the vehicle
and its beasts, disposing of them at the first chance. This process
was repeated with other carts and conveyances plying for hire, and in
all cases datura was the drug employed. This Rora was arrested on one
occasion, and having to pass his own house got permission to go in;
after which he came out with a gift of poisoned sweetmeats for his
escort, and easily escaped when his custodians yielded to the potency
of the datura.
A form of highway robbery was the “Megphunnah Thuggee,”--the poisoning
of parents to remove them and allow of the kidnapping of their deserted
children. The motive of this crime was to become possessed of the
jewels and ornaments worn by the children, or to sell the latter
at distant places or to wanderers who would carry them to far-off
countries for questionable purposes. Brinjaras bought male children
to bring up in their trade, and nomadic gipsies with travelling shows
wanted females to be reared to their performing business. Thus a gang
of Megphunnah thieves assembled for a feast fell upon a family of Yats,
father and mother, with two girls and a boy, and having strangled the
parents in good old Thug fashion and sold the children, repeated the
process continually as they wandered on. The gains were small, but the
murders were many and numbers were sold into slavery of the worst sort.
Dacoity was practised on a large scale in many districts by whole
gangs under well-known leaders with adherents or well-wishers and
informants in every village. At each religious festival in the autumn,
the band assembled at the summons of its acknowledged chief in some
deserted fort or temple, and settled a plan for the coming season,
when operations were discussed; the names of the selected victims,
the nature of the expected booty, the chances of resistance or the
interference of the authorities. New members were affiliated and sworn
in at these meetings and the work went on gaily by the various parties
till the approach of the monsoon, when the whole band reassembled,
divided the spoil and went into winter quarters. One member of the gang
was always a goldsmith, who melted down the ornaments acquired, while
silks and clothes were disposed of to friendly shopkeepers.
A long list might be drawn up of the predatory peoples of India. “These
criminal tribes,” says Sleeman, “number hundreds of thousands of
persons and present a problem almost unknown in European experience.
The gipsies, who are largely of Indian origin, are perhaps the only
European example of an hereditary criminal tribe. But they are not
sheltered and abetted by the landowners as their brethren in India
are.” Most prominent among these peoples were the Meenas, or Meena
Rhatores, who were found chiefly in Rajputana, but who practised
their infamous trade in many parts of India. The name Rhatore is
synonymous with Rajput and signifies “of royal race,” but the blue
blood was drawn from a family living by plunder and Dacoity. They
were settled in considerable numbers at Shajanpore near Gurgaon, and
lived outwardly respectable lives, but their propensities were well
known. Although they went far afield to carry out their robberies, they
occupied substantial stone houses, cultivated the soil and possessed
large flocks and herds with many swift camels, mostly hidden away
till the time arrived for an expedition to pilfer and despoil. These
Meenas were rich and prosperous and wanted nothing but to be let
alone; they habitually lived well, ate flesh, drank much, wore fine
raiment, and their women disported many trinkets and gorgeous clothes;
their rejoicings and festivals were celebrated with much feasting and
revelry. They followed no ostensible occupation; they hired servants
to till the ground, and their villages had often a deserted appearance
because most of the men were absent on some raid. The remaining few,
wary and watchful, looked out for possible detection and interference;
the women, even when drawing water at the well, were ready to give the
signal of alarm or send a word of warning to their friends engaged in
some illegal pursuit. The Meenas hung closely together, and if any one
was by mischance arrested, he might count upon assistance and upon
funds raised by subscription to provide bribes to secure his release,
if in the native states, or for the payment of fees for his defence.
Another criminal class very formidable in their time were the Moghyas,
whose home was in Meywar in and about the direction of Neemuch. They
were notorious for the wide range of their depredations, and being of
a treacherous character, they inspired great dread in the regions they
infested. They did not confine themselves to their own country, but
spread far and wide, and their robberies were so repeated that at one
time the high road between Indore and Gwalior was patrolled by parties
of irregular cavalry in support of the inefficient local police. These
Moghyas came from a common stock of tribal thieves, such as the Budhuks
and Khunjurs, and were notable for their favourite custom of taking
service as village watchmen or _chowkeydars_, a strange practice very
general throughout India and based upon the old idea of setting a
thief to catch a thief.
The Budhuks were professional Dacoits who always murdered their
victims; the Khunjurs were wanderers who robbed in many widely
separated districts both in Madras and Bombay, and in times far back in
Jalna, Bolarum near Secunderabad, at Bellary (Madras) and Sholapore.
The Mooltani robbers were assiduous in attacks on convoys of cargoes of
piece goods, opium and sugar. There were also Bedowreahs, freebooters
and desperados of the North-western Provinces, Kaim Khanees, camel
postilions, who were also Dacoits, and Khaikarees and Lambanees, much
given to crime in the Dharwan district and so determined in their
misdeeds that no severity short of perpetual banishment had any effect
on them. After a large capture, the native magistrate sentenced every
offender to have his right hand chopped off. Yet they at once resumed
their depredations when set free and were long recognised as members of
the “lop-handed” gang.
The Ooreahs, or men of Orissa, were poisoners by descent, adepts
at dissimulation and low cunning, much given to the despoiling of
unsuspecting females of the oldest profession in the world, the
hereditary dancing girls who were brought up to the business by their
mothers. A troupe of these girls were often maintained privately by
rajahs and wealthy natives, and for ceremonial purposes at Hindu
temples. Despite the taint of ill-repute attaching to their trade,
they were often modest in manner and of refined tastes, very much like
the old Grecian “Hetæræ”; but when living at large in their public
capacity, they were often the victims of greedy miscreants who coveted
their possessions, their plentiful ornaments and jewelry, for many
were personally rich. The Ooreahs worked in gangs and three of them
visited the house of some of these women in Dum-Dum and brought with
them a present of food, curry cooked by themselves and drugged. This
had the usual effect and ended in a great robbery. Again, four Ooreahs
took lodgings with a woman in the Sham Bazaar, near Calcutta, and
established friendly relations, exchanging sweetmeats. Those given by
the Ooreahs soon produced insensibility, and the poisoners cleared out
the place.
In 1869 information reached a gang of Dacoits on the look-out for booty
that a large consignment of treasure had been received at Agra by
railway from Calcutta. It was to be transferred at Agra to camel-back,
to be forwarded to its destination at Jeypore. The leader of the
Dacoits and many others were lurking around drawn by the scent of rich
prey on the skirts of the great Durbar then in progress. They prudently
resolved to delay attack until the spoil was upon native territory,
and it was watched from stage to stage until the convoy had entered a
pass or hilly gorge one march from Jeypore. The party halted for the
night to bivouac in the bazaar of a place called Molumpoona, where they
were challenged by pretended revenue officers, who were Meena Dacoits
disguised, and accused of trying to evade the transit dues. The real
character of the officials was soon made manifest when the escort, who
were soldiers or policemen, ran off, and the plunder was secured. It
consisted of a large amount in rupees and silver in bricks, coral beads
and other valuables.
The audacity of these Dacoits reached to greater heights. The royal
mails were not safe from their interference. By maintaining spies
in the various post-offices, news was always forthcoming of the
approaching despatch of a valuable prize by the government mail carts
or Dak runners from Agra to the adjacent native states. Almost at the
same time as the last named robbery took place, a detachment from the
main gang stopped the mail cart and seized its contents, carrying off a
quantity of bullion in British sovereigns. A second similar robbery was
also effected on the Ajmere frontier, in which the post-office employee
was wounded. These treasure Dacoities were no doubt facilitated by the
niggardliness of the transmitters, who sought to save the expense of
hiring a special escort notwithstanding the enormous amount at stake,
as much as thirty lacs of rupees, or £300,000, having been passed at
times from Bombay to Indore.
On one occasion in 1864, a police confederate gave notice of a
consignment of treasure, 30,000 rupees, from Bombay, passing through
Berar, which was intercepted and attacked in a ravine near Mulkapore.
The mail cart arrived about dusk, when the robbers fell upon it and the
drivers, and the small escort of four matchlock men fled. The bullion
was loaded quickly on camels, carried away and buried in the jungle
before the news of the theft reached Mulkapore. A month later, when the
booty was about to be divided among the different gangs engaged, they
quarrelled fiercely over the shares and one of the party stole away and
brought the police upon the scene. The treasure was thus recovered and
many important arrests were made.
This money had been forwarded up country to be employed in the purchase
of cotton at a time when the great American War of Secession had
paralysed the cotton industry, and great enterprise was being shown in
obtaining the scarce commodity. This “cotton hunger” extended to India,
and the productive cotton fields there were being despoiled to meet
the demand. Heavy remittances in cash were in consequence constantly
transmitted up country, and the temptation was great to highway
robbers. It was the same with regard to opium, largely produced in the
province of Malwa. Not only was the drug itself plundered in transit to
Bombay, but the purchase money of the goods was intercepted on its way
to pay the cultivators.
Many noted Dacoits rose into prominence when the crime was most
prevalent. One was Jowahirra Durzee, a thief of the boldest type who
wandered through Central India planning and executing robberies. There
were thirteen such crimes to his credit in the province of Berar and
eight more around Poona. He was a fine-looking man who was caught by
the Nizam of Hyderabad and sentenced to be beheaded, but who escaped
from gaol with the connivance of the native guard. He renewed his
activity and made a great haul in Berar, robbing a couple of country
carts conveying cash to the value of 66,000 rupees sent from Bombay for
the purchase of cotton. The thieves had only time to bury their plunder
and disperse, but returned a month later to dig it up and divide it.
After making Poona the centre of operations, he was again arrested and
committed to the British lock-up at Jalna, from which he was rescued by
a daring comrade, Kishen Sing, who forced an entrance into the prison
by climbing the wall and overpowering the sentry.
Afterward Jowahirra, when retaken, described what had occurred. Two
steel clasp knives with file blades had been conveyed from Bombay and
smuggled into the prison. With these the prisoners cut through their
leg-irons in six days, after which their friends came and carried them
off to where three swift camels were waiting for them outside the town.
The Indian criminals are ingenious in dealing with their fetters to
compass escape. They are independent of files. Thirty of the worst
prisoners confined in the central gaol of Agra contrived to cut through
their irons by means of threads manufactured from their clothing and
thickly coated with pounded glass or emery powder. The threads were
first anointed with gum to which the powder adhered, thus forming a
sawing instrument equal to a file. Jowahirra’s subsequent depredations
were on a large scale. He was often associated with the notorious
Dacoit Jeewun Sing, (of whom more directly), and they controlled large
numbers of tribal thieves, Meenas and Rhatores and Rohillas, who were
at one time computed to amount to nearly four hundred. Jowahirra was
in due course tried as a professional Dacoit and sentenced to fourteen
years’ transportation to the Andaman Islands.
Jeewun Sing was a native of Bikaneer and a camel carrier who conveyed
specie and other consignments for the bankers of Berar, and as such he
enjoyed a reputation for honesty and fair dealing in the delivery of
goods entrusted to him. Yet he was in collusion with Meena Dacoits who
came down from the country in quest of plunder, and whom he harboured
and hid in two temples near Oomraotee until news came of treasure on
the move. Jeewun Sing, who had taken service with the Mypore police for
his personal safety, secretly directed these gangs and was concerned
in several of the heaviest robberies, receiving always his share of
the proceeds,--a fourth or fifth. He did not join personally in the
work, but sent agents to represent him. He was a general carrier, whose
camels travelled to Bombay, Indore, Jeypore, Jubbulpore, and who was
true to his employers as a cloak to his proceedings against others.
This police inspector, so long the confederate of robbers, lived under
a cloud and his arrest was often strongly urged, but he was spared
through the protection of his police superiors, and not a little on
account of his usefulness in securing the conviction of others. But
this double traitor, disloyal to his sect and the betrayer of his
confederates, was in the end dismissed from the service.
Kishen Sing, the noted Rhatore leader of Dacoits who rescued Jowahirra
Durzee, was one of the chief agents of this same Jeewun Sing. Kishen
Sing was informed against by his confederate, Choutmull, for declining
to submit to his demands and was supposed to have died in custody at
Aboo. The story of this fictitious death so admirably illustrates
Eastern duplicity that it deserves mention. Kishen Sing was a desperate
character whose crimes were many and atrocious. He murdered one of his
associates in a mail cart robbery; he attacked two sepoys going on
furlough, and in the fight which ensued slew one while he himself was
wounded; and he was in the habit of disguising himself as an officer
in the Nizam’s cavalry in order to carry out his robberies. One of
his most daring deeds was rifling a treasure convoy on the high-road
between Sholapore and Hyderabad. The money was 30,000 rupees in
specie and some chests of bullion, and was carried in the wagons of a
transit agency under escort of some Arab mercenaries. A fierce conflict
was fought, but the Dacoits got the best of it and carried off the
treasure. Later Kishen Sing was arrested and laid by the heels at Mount
Aboo to await trial.
He was resolved to escape his fate of certain transportation. First
he tried to commit suicide with a piece of glass, then he simulated
madness and at last took to malingering. He was seized with a terrible
hacking cough and grew visibly worse, so that his release as incurable
was all but recommended. Then he apparently died. Leave was sought from
the local authorities to bury him and not burn him as was the usual
procedure with a Hindu corpse. His body was handed over for interment
to four or five low caste men engaged by an old and faithful follower
of his who had taken the garb of a mendicant and occupied a small
hut just outside the gaol gates. The undertakers were in the secret,
and they placed the living corpse in a shallow grave face downward,
covering it with thorns and brushwood, on the top of which a thin
layer of earth was laid. The defunct made no move, and after dark
the faithful Gosaen, who had been on the watch, came and dug up the
“dead” Kishen Sing. It was thus clearly proved that burial did not mean
death and that, provided a person is placed faced downwards with no
superincumbent weight of earth, life may be safely prolonged for hours.
The escape of Kishen Sing was not realised until he was discovered
alive and well in his native village. How he imposed upon the medical
officer whose duty it was to furnish a certificate of death does not
appear upon the record.
A curious feature in Indian Dacoity was that gangs were led in more
than one instance by female _jemadars_ or captains. One of the most
notable was a certain Tumbolin whose husband had met his deserts in
the Madras territory and had been executed. After his death, his wife
was installed in his place by the universal acclaim of his followers,
and she fully justified her appointment. She became a most capable
chief, ably managed all the affairs of the gang, sought out the needful
information as to the promise of spoil, the best methods of attack,
and settled every preliminary. She went with her men to the point of
action, but did not join personally in the fray, leaving the actual
command to a trusty lieutenant, by name Himtya, chosen by herself, and
who became her right hand man.
One of the boldest operations ever attempted by Dacoits was the
attack made by Tumbolin’s gang upon a military treasure in the heart
of the military cantonments of Sholapore. In quest of booty, she had
brought her party down in person from Central India and had encamped
at Nuldroog, about fifteen miles from Sholapore, a wild spot within
the territory of the Nizam of Hyderabad. Accompanied by her faithful
Himtya and others, disguised as wandering minstrels, she explored the
neighbourhood and penetrated the military quarter of Sholapore. They
sang their songs before the officers’ bungalows and at last boldly
entered the general’s garden in which a sentry was posted. Over the
hedge they saw a sentry, and more to the purpose, saw that he was in
charge of the treasure chest of the military force. Meanwhile Himtya
had gone off independently and had marked down as a hopeful prey the
house of a wealthy tobacconist and banker in the town of Sholapore.
The two enterprises were discussed that night on return to camp, and
although the banker’s promised to be the easiest job, an attack upon a
military force was the most audacious and, if successful, would secure
the largest prestige. It was decided to attempt the latter enterprise,
pausing for a day or two in order to reconnoitre their ground, the
best means of approach, and the surest line of retreat if pursued. The
British garrison was large and consisted of a native infantry and a
troop of European horse artillery. It was an important station where
many high officials resided, judge, collector and magistrate, and a
local gaol was established within the fort. It was a hard nut to crack,
but Tumbolin did not despair. First removing their encampment to some
distance, the rendezvous was fixed on some broken ground near the
deposited treasure, which was last seen by Himtya when being locked up
in the right hand compartment of the tumbril.
At nightfall the sepoy sentry guard retired into their guard room,
leaving a double sentry to guard the treasure. Himtya’s first step was
to secure the guard by locking them into their quarters; then he and
his men crept up under cover of a tall cactus hedge until they reached
the tumbril, when two of the Dacoits rushed simultaneously upon the two
sentries and speared them, while a third robber broke off the padlock
of the tumbril and laid open the right compartment of the treasure
chest. It was empty, for the money had been transferred that very day
to the other side. By this time, the alarm had been raised. The sentry
in the general’s garden adjoining opened fire, and some of the officers
ran up with shot-guns, by which one of the robbers was wounded. The
attack had failed and the tables were turned. The bugles rang out with
a general call to arms and the baffled Dacoits hastily decamped.
Pursuit followed, but the robbers were fleet of foot and arrived safely
at their encampment, where all was in readiness for flight, ponies were
mounted, Tumbolin astride on her favourite piebald, and they galloped
away through the night and the next day until the party reached and
crossed the Kistna, after which they were beyond pursuit. Great
commotion had been caused in Sholapore. The troops stood to their arms
all night and patrols of cavalry scoured the whole country round. The
English general in command reported that Sholapore had been attacked
by a numerous and well-organised banditti, but, as a matter of fact,
Tumbolin’s whole gang numbered no more than sixteen persons.
Tumbolin long continued her depredations and her success was great. Ten
years after the attack on Sholapore, her gang visited the city of Poona
at a moment when the chief of police was being married and the entire
force was in attendance upon the marriage procession. Himtya seized the
occasion to break into the house of a rich Marwaree merchant and rifle
his strong room. The attack was made with flaring torches and a great
outcry and succeeded, but two of the robbers were captured as they fled
through the town, one of them Himtya himself. Tumbolin escaped and was,
indeed, never taken, although a large price was put upon her head. She
retired at length at a good old age to die peacefully among her own
people in the fastnesses of the Oude Terai.
Grassia was a famous leader of Khunjur Dacoits who had become an
approver after capture. When he died his widow, a woman of fine
presence and masculine gait, consecrated her children by a solemn oath
to their father’s profession. She seemed to anticipate that the boys
would be worth little at the work, but relied upon her one girl to
turn into a capable leader such as Tumbolin. Grassia’s daughter grew
up into a fine woman, with no particular good looks, but of imposing
aspect. She never married, bearing in mind her mother’s injunctions to
devote herself to the care of her brothers, and to keep Tumbolin before
her as a model for imitation, and she no doubt led her gang with much
energy and success. In older times there were female Thugs, women who
accompanied their husbands on expeditions, and one is mentioned by
Sleeman who was the _jemadar_ of a gang of her own.
A horrible story of a Dacoit’s revenge is told by Mr. Arthur Crawford.
After an outbreak of the Bheels in October, 1858, which was commenced
by one of their number, Bhagoji Naique, shooting the superintendent
of the police near Sinnur, the majority of the Bheels took to Dacoity
under the leadership of Bhagoji. At this time an old Bheel named
Yesoo, a friend of Bhagoji’s, was living in the same neighbourhood
in a village which was a favourite camping ground for Europeans on
account of the facilities it offered for sport. Yesoo was on very
friendly terms with the sportsmen and endeavoured to dissuade Bhagoji
from his traitorous designs, but without success. After the murder of
the police official, Yesoo refused to join the rebels, and was excused
on account of his age and lameness and left to live in peace in his
village, Bhagoji little thinking that all the while he was secretly
supplying the English with valuable information concerning the plans
and whereabouts of the Dacoits. When the disturbance had been quelled
and an amnesty proclaimed, one of Bhagoji’s most faithful adherents
returned to his home and settled down quietly in his native village
not far from Yesoo, who by this time was well known to have been a
government informer and was very proud of the fact. This apparently did
not affect Hanmant, who tried to be on good terms with the old man,
and frequently visited him, inviting him to bring his family over to
his (Hanmant’s) village. But Yesoo was wary and kept the young man at
arm’s length. Hanmant, finding all attempts to lure the old man away
from the security of his own village in vain, conceived a diabolical
plot to bring about his revenge. “Taking some fifteen or twenty of
his own people and a few more Bheels who had sworn to be revenged on
Yesoo, he repaired one night to Yesoo’s village, silently surrounded
the Bheel quarter, and then sent one of his men to fire the village
stackyard at the other side of the village. Just as he anticipated, the
alarm was no sooner given than every male Bheel in the ‘Warra’ (their
quarters outside the village proper), including Yesoo and his two sons,
went off at best speed to the fire, the women and children collecting
outside their huts to view the blaze. In an instant the revengeful
gang surrounded the ‘Warra,’ and with his own hand Hanmant cut down
and horribly mutilated Yesoo’s two wives and daughters, the other
women were gagged and bound, and then Hanmant and a select few, armed
with matchlocks, lay in ambush by the path Yesoo and his sons must
return by. Yesoo he shot with the muzzle of his gun nearly touching
his body, and the sons and one Bheel who showed fight were disposed
of by his comrades; the other Bheels dispersed, while Hanmant and his
gang quietly returned home. Suspicion, of course, immediately fell upon
Hanmant. One of his confederates peached. Hanmant escaped into the
jungle, but was caught half-famished about a week afterward. Ultimately
he and two accomplices were executed at the scene of the murder,
Hanmant exulting up to the last moment in the dreadful deed, which he
had been brooding over for nearly five years.”