God, the Fashioner of the Heart, the fools sit among the six hundred,
and the women sway their councils. Hast thou forgotten when the order
came across the seas that rotted out the armies of the English with us,
so that soldiers fell sick by the hundred where but ten had sickened
before? That was the work of not more than twenty of the men and some
fifty of the barren women. I have seen three or four of them, male and
female, and they triumph openly, in the name of their God, because
three regiments of the white troops are not. This is to our advantage;
because the sword with the rust-spot breaks over the turban of the
enemy. But if they thus tear their own flesh and blood ere their
madness be risen to its height, what will they do when the moon is full?
Seeing that power lay in the hands of the six hundred, and not in the
Viceroy or elsewhere, I have throughout my stay sought the shadow
of those among them who talk most and most extravagantly. They lead
the common folk, and receive permission from their good will. It is
the desire of some of these men--indeed, of almost as many as caused
the rotting of the English army--that our lands and peoples should
accurately resemble those of the English upon this very day. May God,
the Contemner of Folly, forbid! I myself am accounted a show among
them, and of us and ours they know naught, some calling me Hindu and
others Rajput, and using towards me, in ignorance, slave-talk and
expressions of great disrespect. Some of them are well-born, but
the greater part are low-born, coarse-skinned, waving their arms,
high-voiced, without dignity, slack in the mouth, shifty-eyed, and, as
I have said, swayed by the wind of a woman’s cloak.
Now this is a tale but two days old. There was a company at meat, and a
high-voiced woman spoke to me, in the face of the men, of the affairs
of our womankind. It was her ignorance that made each word an edged
insult. Remembering this I held my peace till she had spoken a new law
as to the control of our zenanas, and all who are behind the curtains.
Then I--‘Hast thou ever felt the life stir under thy heart or laid a
little son between thy breasts, O most unhappy?’ Thereto she hotly,
with a haggard eye--‘No, for I am a free woman, and no servant of
babes.’ Then I softly--‘God deal lightly with thee, my sister, for thou
art in heavier bondage than any slave, and the fuller half of the earth
is hidden from thee. The first ten years of the life of a man are his
mother’s, and from the dusk to the dawn surely the wife may command the
husband. Is it a great thing to stand back in the waking hours while
the men go abroad unhampered by thy hands on the bridle-rein?’ Then she
wondered that a heathen should speak thus: yet she is a woman honoured
among these men, and openly professes that she hath no profession of
faith in her mouth. Read this in the ear of the Rao Sahib, and demand
how it would fare with me if I brought such a woman for his use. It
were worse than that yellow desert-bred girl from Cutch, who set the
girls to fighting for her own pleasure, and slippered the young prince
across the mouth. Rememberest thou?
In truth the fountain-head of power is putrid with long standing still.
These men and women would make of all India a dung-cake, and would
fain leave the mark of the fingers upon it. And they have power and
the control of the revenues, and that is why I am so particular in
description. _They have power over all India._ Of what they speak they
understand nothing, for the low-born’s soul is bounded by his field,
and he grasps not the connection of affairs from pole to pole. They
boast openly that the Viceroy and the others are their servants. When
the masters are mad, what shall the servants do?
Some hold that all war is sin, and Death the greatest fear under God.
Others declare with the Prophet that it is evil to drink, to which
teaching their streets bear evident witness; and others there are,
specially the low-born, who aver that all dominion is wicked and
sovereignty of the sword accursed. These protested to me, making, as
it were, an excuse that their kin should hold Hindustan, and hoping
that upon a day they will depart. Knowing well the breed of white man
in our borders I would have laughed, but forbore, remembering that
these speakers had power in the counting of heads. Yet others cry aloud
against the taxation of Hindustan under the Sahibs’ rule. To this I
assent, remembering the yearly mercy of the Rao Sahib when the turbans
of the troopers come through the blighted corn, and the women’s anklets
go into the melting-pot. But I am no good speaker. _That_ is the duty
of the boys from Bengal--hill asses with an eastern bray--Mahrattas
from Poona, and the like. These, moving among fools, represent
themselves as the sons of some one, being beggar-taught, offspring of
grain-dealers, curriers, sellers of bottles, and money-lenders, as thou
knowest. Now, we of Jagesur owe naught save friendship to the English
who took us by the sword, and having taken us let us go, assuring the
Rao Sahib’s succession for all time. But _these_ base-born, having won
their learning through the mercy of the Government, attired in English
clothes, forswearing the faith of their fathers for gain, spread rumour
and debate against the Government, and are, therefore, very dear to
certain of the six hundred. I have heard these cattle speak as princes
and rulers of men, and I have laughed; but not altogether.
Once it happened that a son of some grain-bag sat with me at meat,
who was arrayed and speaking after the manner of the English. At each
mouthful he committed perjury against the Salt that he had eaten; the
men and women applauding. When, craftily falsifying, he had magnified
oppression and invented untold wrong, together with the desecration
of his tun-bellied gods, he demanded in the name of his people the
government of all our land, and turning, laid palm to my shoulder,
saying--‘Here is one who is with us, albeit he professes another faith;
he will bear out my words.’ This he delivered in English, and, as it
were, exhibited me to that company. Preserving a smiling countenance, I
answered in our own tongue--‘Take away that hand, man without a father,
or the folly of these folk shall not save thee, nor my silence guard
thy reputation. Sit off, herd.’ And in their speech I said--‘He speaks
truth. When the favour and wisdom of the English allows us yet a little
larger share in the burden and the reward, the Mussalman will deal with
the Hindu.’ He alone saw what was in my heart. I was merciful towards
him because he was accomplishing our desires; but remember that his
father is one Durga Charan Laha, in Calcutta. Lay thy hand upon _his_
shoulder if ever chance sends. It is not good that bottle-dealers and
auctioneers should paw the sons of princes. I walk abroad sometimes
with the man that all this world may know the Hindu and Mussalman are
one, but when we come to the unfrequented streets I bid him walk behind
me and that is sufficient honour.
And why did I eat dirt?
Thus, my brother, it seems to my heart, which has almost burst in the
consideration of these matters. The Bengalis and the beggar-taught
boys know well that the Sahibs’ power to govern comes neither from the
Viceroy nor the head of the army, but from the hands of the six hundred
in this town, and peculiarly those who talk most. They will therefore
yearly address themselves more and more to that protection, and working
on the green-sickness of the land, as has ever been their custom, will
in time cause, through the perpetually-instigated interference of the
six hundred, the hand of the Indian Government to become inoperative,
so that no measure nor order may be carried through without clamour and
argument on their part; for that is the delight of the English at this
hour. Have I overset the bounds of possibility? No. Even thou must have
heard that one of the six hundred, having neither knowledge, fear, nor
reverence before his eyes, has made in sport a new and a written scheme
for the government of Bengal, and openly shows it abroad as a king
might read his crowning proclamation. And this man, meddling in affairs
of State, speaks in the council for an assemblage of leather-dressers,
makers of boots and harness, and openly glories in that he has no God.
Has either minister of the Empress, Empress, Viceroy, or any other
raised a voice against this leather-man? Is not his power therefore to
be sought, and that of his like-thinkers with it? Thou seest.
The telegraph is the servant of the six hundred, and all the Sahibs in
India, omitting not one, are the servants of the telegraph. Yearly,
too, thou knowest, the beggar-taught will hold that which they call
their Congress, first at one place and then at another, leavening
Hindustan with rumour, echoing the talk among the low-born people here,
and demanding that they, like the six hundred, control the revenues.
And they will bring every point and letter over the heads of the
Governors and the Lieutenant-Governors, and whoever hold authority, and
cast it clamorously at the feet of the six hundred here; and certain
of those word-confounders and the barren women will assent to their
demands, and others will weary of disagreement. Thus fresh confusion
will be thrown into the councils of the Empress even as the island
near by is helped and comforted into the smothered war of which I have
written. Then yearly, as they have begun and we have seen, the low-born
men of the six hundred anxious for honour will embark for our land,
and, staying a little while, will gather round them and fawn before
the beggar-taught, and these departing from their side will assuredly
inform the peasants, and the fighting men for whom there is no employ,
that there is a change toward and a coming of help from over the seas.
That rumour will not grow smaller in the spreading. And, most of all,
the Congress, when it is not under the eye of the six hundred--who,
though they foment dissension and death, pretend great reverence for
the law which is no law--will, stepping aside, deliver uneasy words
to the peasants, speaking, as it has done already, of the remission
of taxation, and promising a new rule. That is to our advantage, but
the flower of danger is in the seed of it. Thou knowest what evil a
rumour may do; though in the Black Year when thou and I were young
our standing to the English brought gain to Jagesur and enlarged our
borders, for the Government gave us land on both sides. Of the Congress
itself nothing is to be feared that ten troopers could not remove;
but if its words too soon perturb the minds of those waiting or _of
princes in idleness_, a flame may come before the time, and since there
are now many white hands to quench it, all will return to the former
condition. If the flame be kept under we need have no fear, because,
sweating and panting, the one trampling on the other, the white people
here are digging their own graves. The hand of the Viceroy will be
tied, the hearts of the Sahibs will be downcast, and all eyes will turn
to England disregarding any orders. Meantime, keeping tally on the
sword-hilt against the hour when the score must be made smooth by the
blade, it is well for us to assist and greatly befriend the Bengali
that he may get control of the revenues and the posts. We must even
write to England that we be of one blood with the school-men. It is
not long to wait; by my head it is not long! This people are like the
great king Ferisht, who, eaten with the scabs of long idleness, plucked
off his crown and danced naked among the dung-hills. But I have not
forgotten the profitable end of that tale. The vizier set him upon a
horse and led him into battle. Presently his health returned, and he
caused to be engraven on the crown:--
‘Though I was cast away by the king
Yet, through God, I returned and he added to my brilliance
Two great rubies (Balkh and Iran).’
If this people be purged and bled out by battle, their sickness may go
and their eyes be cleared to the necessities of things. But they are
now far gone in rottenness. Even the stallion, too long heel-roped,
forgets how to fight: and these men are mules. I do not lie when I say
that unless they are bled and taught with the whip, they will hear and
obey all that is said by the Congress and the black men here, hoping to
turn our land into their own orderless Jehannum. For the men of the six
hundred, being chiefly low-born and unused to authority, desire much to
exercise rule, extending their arms to the sun and moon, and shouting
very greatly in order to hear the echo of their voices, each one saying
some new strange thing and parting the goods and honour of others among
the rapacious, that he may obtain the favour of the common folk. And
all this is to our advantage.
Therefore write, that they may read, of gratitude and of love and the
law. I myself, when I return, will show how the dish should be dressed
to take the taste here; for it is here that we must come. Cause to be
established in Jagesur a newspaper, and fill it with translations of
their papers. A beggar-taught may be brought from Calcutta for thirty
rupees a month, and if he writes in Gurmukhi our people cannot read.
Create, further, councils other than the panchayats of headmen, village
by village and district by district, instructing them beforehand what
to say according to the order of the Rao. Print all these things in
a book in English, and send it to this place, and to every man of
the six hundred. Bid the beggar-taught write in front of all that
Jagesur follows fast on the English plan. If thou squeezest the Hindu
shrine at Theegkot, and it is ripe, remit the head-tax, and perhaps
the marriage-tax, with great publicity. But above all things keep the
troops ready, and in good pay, even though we glean the stubble with
the wheat and stint the Rao Sahib’s women. All must go softly. Protest
thou thy love for the voice of the common people in all things, and
affect to despise the troops. That shall be taken for a witness in this
land. The headship of the troops must be mine. See that Bahadur Shah’s
wits go wandering over the wine, but do not send him to God. I am an
old man, but I may yet live to lead.
If this people be not bled out and regain strength, we, watching how
the tide runs, when we see that the shadow of their hand is all but
lifted from Hindustan, must bid the Bengali demand the removal of the
residue or set going an uneasiness to that end. We must have a care
neither to hurt the life of the Englishmen nor the honour of their
women, for in that case six times the six hundred here could not hold
those who remain from making the land swim. We must care that they are
not mobbed by the Bengalis, but honourably escorted, while the land is
held down with the threat of the sword if a hair of their heads fall.
Thus we shall gain a good name, and when rebellion is unaccompanied
by bloodshed, as has lately befallen in a far country, the English,
disregarding honour, call it by a new name: even one who has been a
minister of the Empress, but is now at war against the law, praises
it openly before the common folk. So greatly are they changed since
the days of Nikhal Seyn![2] And then, if all go well and the Sahibs,
who through continual checking and browbeating will have grown sick
at heart, see themselves abandoned by their kin--for this people have
allowed their greatest to die on dry sand through delay and fear of
expense--we may go forward. This people are swayed by names. A new
name therefore must be given to the rule of Hindustan (and that the
Bengalis may settle among themselves), and there will be many writings
and oaths of love, such as the little island over seas makes when it
would fight more bitterly; and after that the residue are diminished
the hour comes, and we must strike so that the sword is never any more
questioned.
By the favour of God and the conservation of the Sahibs these many
years, Hindustan contains very much plunder, which we can in no way eat
hurriedly. There will be to our hand the scaffolding of the house of
state, for the Bengali shall continue to do our work, and must account
to us for the revenue, and learn his seat in the order of things.
Whether the Hindu kings of the west will break in to share that spoil
before we have swept it altogether, thou knowest better than I; but
be certain that, then, strong hands will seek their own thrones, and
it may be that the days of the king of Delhi will return if we only,
curbing our desires, pay due obedience to the outward appearances and
the names. Thou rememberest the old song:--
‘Hadst thou not called it Love, I had said it were a drawn sword,
But since thou hast spoken, I believe and--I die.’
It is in my heart that there will remain in our land a few Sahibs
undesirous of returning to England. These we must cherish and protect,
that by their skill and cunning we may hold together and preserve unity
in time of war. The Hindu kings will never trust a Sahib in the core of
their counsels. I say again that if we of the Faith confide in them, we
shall trample upon our enemies.
Is all this a dream to thee, gray fox of my mother’s bearing? I have
written of what I have seen and heard, but from the same clay two men
will never fashion platters alike, nor from the same facts draw equal
conclusions. Once more, there is a green-sickness upon all the people
of this country. They eat dirt even now to stay their cravings. Honour
and stability have departed from their councils, and the knife of
dissension has brought down upon their heads the flapping tent-flies
of confusion. The Empress is old. They speak disrespectfully of her
and hers in the street. They despise the sword, and believe that the
tongue and the pen sway all. The measure of their ignorance and their
soft belief is greater than the measure of the wisdom of Solomon, the
son of David. All these things I have seen whom they regard as a wild
beast and a spectacle. By God the Enlightener of Intelligence, if
the Sahibs in India could breed sons who lived so that their houses
might be established, I would almost fling my sword at the Viceroy’s
feet, saying: ‘Let us here fight for a kingdom together, thine and
mine, disregarding the babble across the water. Write a letter to
England, saying that we love them but would depart from their camps
and make all clean under a new crown.’ But the Sahibs die out at
the third generation in our land, and it may be that I dream dreams.
Yet not altogether. Until a white calamity of steel and bloodshed,
the bearing of burdens, the trembling for life, and the hot rage of
insult--_for pestilence would unman them if eyes not unused to men
see clear_--befall this people, our path is safe. They are sick. The
Fountain of Power is a gutter which all may defile; and the voices of
the men are overborne by the squealings of mules and the whinnying of
barren mares. If through adversity they become wise, then, my brother,
strike with and for them, and later, when thou and I are dead, and the
disease grows up again (the young men bred in the school of fear and
trembling and word-confounding have yet to live out their appointed
span), those who have fought on the side of the English may ask and
receive what they choose. At present seek quietly to confuse, and
delay, and evade, and make of no effect. In this business four score of
the six hundred are our true helpers.
Now the pen, and the ink, and the hand weary together, as thy eyes will
weary in this reading. Be it known to my house that I return soon, but
do not speak of the hour. Letters without name have come to me touching
my honour. The honour of my house is thine. If they be, as I believe,
the work of a dismissed groom, Futteh Lal, that ran at the tail of
my wine-coloured Katthiawar stallion, his village is beyond Manglôt;
look to it that his tongue no longer lengthens itself on the names of
those who are mine. If it be otherwise, put a guard upon my house till
I come, and especially see that no sellers of jewellery, astrologers,
or midwives have entrance to the women’s rooms. We rise by our
slaves, and by our slaves we fall, as it was said. To all who are of
my remembrance I bring gifts according to their worth. I have written
twice of the gift that I would cause to be given to Bahadur Shah.
The blessing of God and his Prophet on thee and thine till the end
which is appointed. Give me felicity by informing me of the state of
thy health. My head is at the Rao Sahib’s feet; my sword is at his left
side, a little above my heart. Follows my seal.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Salvation Army.
[2] Nicholson, a gentleman once of some notoriety in India.
‘THE FINEST STORY IN THE WORLD.’
‘Or ever the knightly years were gone
With the old world to the grave,
I was a king in Babylon
And you were a Christian slave.’
W. E. HENLEY.
His name was Charlie Mears; he was the only son of his mother who was
a widow, and he lived in the north of London, coming into the City
every day to work in a bank. He was twenty years old and was full of
aspirations. I met him in a public billiard-saloon where the marker
called him by his first name, and he called the marker ‘Bullseye.’
Charlie explained, a little nervously, that he had only come to the
place to look on, and since looking on at games of skill is not a cheap
amusement for the young, I suggested that Charlie should go back to his
mother.
That was our first step towards better acquaintance. He would call
on me sometimes in the evenings instead of running about London with
his fellow-clerks; and before long, speaking of himself as a young
man must, he told me of his aspirations, which were all literary.
He desired to make himself an undying name chiefly through verse,
though he was not above sending stories of love and death to the
penny-in-the-slot journals. It was my fate to sit still while Charlie
read me poems of many hundred lines, and bulky fragments of plays that
would surely shake the world. My reward was his unreserved confidence,
and the self-revelations and troubles of a young man are almost as
holy as those of a maiden. Charlie had never fallen in love, but was
anxious to do so on the first opportunity; he believed in all things
good and all things honourable, but at the same time, was curiously
careful to let me see that he knew his way about the world as befitted
a bank-clerk on twenty-five shillings a week. He rhymed ‘dove’ with
‘love’ and ‘moon’ with ‘June,’ and devoutly believed that they had
never so been rhymed before. The long lame gaps in his plays he filled
up with hasty words of apology and description and swept on, seeing all
that he intended to do so clearly that he esteemed it already done, and
turned to me for applause.
I fancy that his mother did not encourage his aspirations; and I know
that his writing-table at home was the edge of his washstand. This he
told me almost at the outset of our acquaintance--when he was ravaging
my bookshelves, and a little before I was implored to speak the truth
as to his chances of ‘writing something really great, you know.’ Maybe
I encouraged him too much, for, one night, he called on me, his eyes
flaming with excitement, and said breathlessly:--
‘Do you mind--can you let me stay here and write all this evening? I
won’t interrupt you, I won’t really. There’s no place for me to write
in at my mother’s.’
‘What’s the trouble?’ I said, knowing well what that trouble was.
‘I’ve a notion in my head that would make the most splendid story that
was ever written. Do let me write it out here. It’s _such_ a notion!’
There was no resisting the appeal. I set him a table; he hardly
thanked me, but plunged into his work at once. For half an hour the
pen scratched without stopping. Then Charlie sighed and tugged his
hair. The scratching grew slower, there were more erasures, and at last
ceased. The finest story in the world would not come forth.
‘It looks such awful rot now,’ he said mournfully. ‘And yet it seemed
so good when I was thinking about it. What’s wrong?’
I could not dishearten him by saying the truth. So I answered: ‘Perhaps
you don’t feel in the mood for writing.’
‘Yes I do--except when I look at this stuff. Ugh!’
‘Read me what you’ve done,’ I said.
He read, and it was wondrous bad, and he paused at all the specially
turgid sentences, expecting a little approval; for he was proud of
those sentences, as I knew he would be.
‘It needs compression,’ I suggested cautiously.
‘I hate cutting my things down. I don’t think you could alter a word
here without spoiling the sense. It reads better aloud than when I was
writing it.’
‘Charlie, you’re suffering from an alarming disease afflicting a
numerous class. Put the thing by, and tackle it again in a week.’
‘I want to do it at once. What do you think of it?’
‘How can I judge from a half-written tale? Tell me the story as it lies
in your head.’