rage with redoubled acrimony. A riot beginning at half-price would
not satisfy the excited feelings of the O. P.s on the night of such
a victory. Long before the curtain drew up, the house was filled with
them, and several placards were exhibited, which the constables and
friends of the managers strove, as usual, to tear into shreds. One of
them, which met this fate, was inscribed, "Success to O.P.! A British
jury for ever!" It was soon replaced by another of a similar purport. It
is needless to detail the uproar that ensued; the jumping, the fighting,
the roaring, and the howling. For nine nights more the same system was
continued; but the end was at hand.
On the 14th a grand dinner was given at the Crown and Anchor tavern, to
celebrate the victory of Mr. Clifford. "The reprobators of managerial
insolence," as they called themselves, attended in considerable numbers;
and Mr. Clifford was voted to the chair. The cloth had been removed, and
a few speeches made, when the company were surprised by a message that
their arch-enemy himself solicited the honour of an audience. It was
some time ere they could believe that Mr. Kemble had ventured to such a
place. After some parley the manager was admitted, and a conference was
held. A treaty was ultimately signed and sealed, which put an end to the
long-contested wars of O.P., and restored peace to the drama.
All this time the disturbance proceeded at the theatre with its usual
spirit. It was now the sixty-sixth night of its continuance, and the
rioters were still untired--still determined to resist to the last.
In the midst of it a gentleman arrived from the Crown and Anchor, and
announced to the pit that Mr. Kemble had attended the dinner, and had
yielded at last to the demand of the public. He stated, that it had
been agreed upon between him and the Committee for defending the persons
under prosecution, that the boxes should remain at the advanced price;
that the pit should be reduced to three shillings and sixpence; that the
private boxes should be done away with; and that all prosecutions, on
both sides, should be immediately stayed. This announcement was received
with deafening cheers. As soon as the first burst of enthusiasm was
over, the O. P.s became anxious for a confirmation of the intelligence,
and commenced a loud call for Mr. Kemble. He had not then returned from
the Crown and Anchor; but of this the pitites were not aware, and for
nearly half an hour they kept up a most excruciating din. At length the
great actor made his appearance, in his walking dress, with his cane
in hand, as he had left the tavern. It was a long time before he
could obtain silence. He apologized in the most respectful terms for
appearing before them in such unbecoming costume, which was caused
solely by his ignorance that he should have to appear before them that
night. After announcing, as well as occasional interruptions would
allow, the terms that had been agreed upon, he added, "In order that
no trace or recollection of the past differences, which had unhappily
prevailed so long, should remain, he was instructed by the proprietors
to say, that they most sincerely lamented the course that had been
pursued, and engaged that, on their parts, all legal proceedings should
forthwith be put a stop to." The cheering which greeted this speech
was interrupted at the close by loud cries from the pit of
"Dismiss Brandon," while one or two exclaimed, "We want old prices
generally,--six shillings for the boxes." After an ineffectual attempt
to address them again upon this point, Mr. Kemble made respectful and
repeated obeisances, and withdrew. The noises still continued, until
Munden stood forward, leading by the hand the humbled box-keeper,
contrition in his looks, and in his hands a written apology, which he
endeavoured to read. The uproar was increased threefold by his presence,
and, amid cries of "We won't hear him!" "Where's his master?" he
was obliged to retire. Mr. Harris, the son of Kemble's co-manager,
afterwards endeavoured to propitiate the audience in his favour; but
it was of no avail; nothing less than his dismissal would satisfy the
offended majesty of the pit. Amid this uproar the curtain finally fell,
and the O. P. dance was danced for the last time within the walls of
Covent Garden.
On the following night it was announced that Brandon had resigned his
situation. This turned the tide of popular ill-will. The performances
were "The Wheel of Fortune," and an afterpiece. The house was crowded
to excess; a desire to be pleased was manifest on every countenance,
and when Mr. Kemble, who took his favourite character of Penruddock,
appeared upon the stage, he was greeted with the most vehement applause.
The noises ceased entirely, and the symbols of opposition disappeared.
The audience, hushed into attention, gave vent to no sounds but those of
admiration for the genius of the actor. When, in the course of his part,
he repeated the words, "So! I am in London again!" the aptness of the
expression to the circumstances of the night, was felt by all present,
and acknowledged by a round of boisterous and thrice repeated cheering.
It was a triumphant scene for Mr. Kemble after his long annoyances. He
had achieved a double victory. He had, not only as a manager, soothed
the obstinate opposition of the play-goers, but as an actor he had
forced from one of the largest audiences he had ever beheld, approbation
more cordial and unanimous than he had ever enjoyed before. The popular
favour not only turned towards him; it embraced everybody connected
with the theatre, except the poor victim, Brandon. Most of the favourite
actors were called before the curtain to make their bow, and receive
the acclamations of the pit. At the close of the performances, a few
individuals, implacable and stubborn, got up a feeble cry of "Old prices
for the boxes;" but they were quickly silenced by the reiterated cheers
of the majority, or by cries of "Turn them out!" A placard, the last
of its race, was at the same time exhibited in the front of the pit,
bearing, in large letters, the words "We are satisfied."
Thus ended the famous wars of O. P., which, for a period of nearly three
months, had kept the metropolis in an uproar. And after all, what was
the grand result? As if the whole proceeding had been a parody upon the
more destructive, but scarcely more sensible wars recorded in history,
it was commenced in injustice, carried on in bitterness of spirit, and
ended, like the labour of the mountain, in a mouse. The abatement of
sixpence in the price of admission to the pit, and the dismissal of an
unfortunate servant, whose only fault was too much zeal in the service
of his employers,--such were the grand victories of the O. P.'s.
THE THUGS, or PHANSIGARS.
Orribili favelle--parole di dolor.--DANTE.
Among the black deeds which Superstition has imposed as duties upon
her wretched votaries, none are more horrible than the practices of the
murderers, who, under the name of Thugs, or Phansigars, have so long
been the scourge of India. For ages they have pursued their dark and
dreadful calling, moulding assassination into a science, or extolling it
as a virtue, worthy only to be practised by a race favoured of Heaven.
Of late years this atrocious delusion has excited much attention, both
in this country and in India; an attention which, it is to be hoped,
will speedily lead to the uprooting of a doctrine so revolting and
anti-human. Although the British Government has extended over Hindostan
for so long a period, it does not appear that Europeans even suspected
the existence of this mysterious sect until the commencement of the
present century. In the year 1807, a gang of Thugs, laden with the
plunder of murdered travellers, was accidentally discovered. The
inquiries then set on foot revealed to the astonished Government a
system of iniquity unparalleled in the history of man. Subsequent
investigation extended the knowledge; and by throwing light upon the
peculiar habits of the murderers, explained the reason why their crimes
had remained so long undiscovered. In the following pages will be found
an epitome of all the information which has reached Europe concerning
them, derived principally from Dr. Sherwood's treatise upon the subject,
published in 1816, and the still more valuable and more recent work of
Mr. Sleeman, entitled the "Ramaseeana; or, Vocabulary of the peculiar
Language of the Thugs."
The followers of this sect are called Thugs, or T'hugs, and their
profession Thuggee. In the south of India they are called Phansigars:
the former word signifying "a deceiver;" and the latter, "a strangler."
They are both singularly appropriate. The profession of Thuggee is
hereditary, and embraces, it is supposed, in every part of India, a
body of at least ten thousand individuals, trained to murder from their
childhood; carrying it on in secret and in silence, yet glorying in it,
and holding the practice of it higher than any earthly honour. During
the winter months, they usually follow some reputable calling, to elude
suspicion; and in the summer, they set out in gangs over all the roads
of India, to plunder and destroy. These gangs generally contain from ten
to forty Thugs, and sometimes as many as two hundred. Each strangler is
provided with a noose, to despatch the unfortunate victim, as the Thugs
make it a point never to cause death by any other means. When the gangs
are very large, they divide into smaller bodies; and each taking a
different route, they arrive at the same general place of rendezvous to
divide the spoil. They sometimes travel in the disguise of respectable
traders; sometimes as sepoys or native soldiers; and at others, as
government officers. If they chance to fall in with an unprotected
wayfarer, his fate is certain. One Thug approaches him from behind, and
throws the end of a sash round his neck; the other end is seized by a
second at the same instant, crossed behind the neck, and drawn tightly,
while with their other hand the two Thugs thrust his head forward to
expedite the strangulation: a third Thug seizes the traveller by the
legs at the same moment, and he is thrown to the ground, a corpse before
he reaches it.
But solitary travellers are not the prey they are anxious to seek. A
wealthy caravan of forty or fifty individuals has not unfrequently been
destroyed by them; not one soul being permitted to escape. Indeed, there
is hardly an instance upon record of any one's escape from their hands,
so surely are their measures taken, and so well do they calculate
beforehand all the risks and difficulties of the undertaking.
Each individual of the gang has his peculiar duty allotted to him.
Upon-approaching a town, or serai, two or three, known as the Soothaes,
or "inveiglers," are sent in advance to ascertain if any travellers are
there; to learn, if possible, the amount of money or merchandize they
carry with them, their hours of starting in the morning, or any
other particulars that may be of use. If they can, they enter into
conversation with them, pretend to be travelling to the same place, and
propose, for mutual security, to travel with them. This intelligence
is duly communicated to the remainder of the gang. The place usually
chosen for the murder is some lonely part of the road in the vicinity of
a jungle, and the time, just before dusk. At given signals, understood
only by themselves, the scouts of the party station themselves in the
front, in the rear, and on each side, to guard against surprise. A
strangler and assistant strangler, called Bhurtote and Shamshea, place
themselves, the one on the right, and the other on the left of the
victim, without exciting his suspicion. At another signal the noose
is twisted, drawn tightly by a strong hand at each extremity, and the
traveller, in a few seconds, hurried into eternity. Ten, twelve, twenty,
and in some instances, sixty persons have been thus despatched at the
same moment. Should any victim, by a rare chance, escape their hands, he
falls into those of the scouts who are stationed within hearing, who run
upon him and soon overpower him.
Their next care is to dispose of the bodies. So cautious are they to
prevent detection, that they usually break all the joints to hasten
decomposition. They then cut open the body to prevent it swelling in the
grave and causing fissures in the soil above, by which means the jackals
might be attracted to the spot, and thereby lead to discovery. When
obliged to bury the body in a frequented district, they kindle a fire
over the grave to obliterate the traces of the newly turned earth.
Sometimes the grave-diggers of the party, whose office, like that of
all the rest, is hereditary, are despatched to make the graves in the
morning at some distant spot, by which it is known the travellers will
pass. The stranglers, in the mean time, journey quietly with their
victims, conversing with them in the most friendly manner. Towards
nightfall they approach the spot selected for their murder; the signal
is given, and they fall into the graves that have been ready for them
since day-break. On one occasion, related by Captain Sleeman, a party
of fifty-nine people, consisting of fifty-two men and seven women, were
thus simultaneously strangled, and thrown into the graves prepared for
them in the morning. Some of these travellers were on horseback and well
armed, but the Thugs, who appear to have been upwards of two hundred
in a gang, had provided against all risk of failure. The only one left
alive of all that numerous party, was an infant four years old, who was
afterwards initiated into all the mysteries of Thuggee.
If they cannot find a convenient opportunity for disposing of the
bodies, they carry them for many miles, until they come to a spot
secure from intrusion, and to a soil adapted to receive them. If fear of
putrefaction admonishes them to use despatch, they set up a large screen
or tent, as other travellers do, and bury the body within the enclosure,
pretending, if inquiries are made, that their women are within. But this
only happens when they fall in with a victim unexpectedly. In murders
which they have planned previously, the finding of a place of sepulture
is never left to hazard.
Travellers who have the misfortune to lodge in the same choultry or
hostelry, as the Thugs, are often murdered during the night. It
is either against their creed to destroy a sleeper, or they find
a difficulty in placing the noose round the neck of a person in a
recumbent position. When this is the case, the slumberer is suddenly
aroused by the alarm of a snake or a scorpion. He starts to his feet,
and finds the fatal sash around his neck.--He never escapes.
In addition to these Thugs who frequent the highways, there are others,
who infest the rivers, and are called Pungoos. They do not differ in
creed, but only in a few of their customs, from their brethren on shore.
They go up and down the rivers in their own boats, pretending to be
travellers of consequence, or pilgrims, proceeding to, or returning from
Benares, Allahabad, or other sacred places. The boatmen, who are also
Thugs, are not different in appearance from the ordinary boatmen on
the river. The artifices used to entice victims on board are precisely
similar to those employed by the highway Thugs. They send out their
"inveiglers" to scrape acquaintance with travellers, and find out the
direction in which they are journeying. They always pretend to be bound
for the same place, and vaunt the superior accommodation of the boat by
which they are going. The travellers fall into the snare, are led to the
Thug captain, who very often, to allay suspicion, demurs to take them,
but eventually agrees for a moderate sum. The boat strikes off into the
middle of the stream; the victims are amused and kept in conversation
for hours by their insidious foes, until three taps are given on the
deck above. This is a signal from the Thugs on the look-out that
the coast is clear. In an instant the fatal noose is ready, and
the travellers are no more. The bodies are then thrown, warm and
palpitating, into the river, from a hole in the side of the boat,
contrived expressly for the purpose.
A river Thug, who was apprehended, turned approver, to save his own
life, and gave the following evidence relative to the practices of his
fraternity:--"We embarked at Rajmahul. The travellers sat on one side
of the boat, and the Thugs on the other; while we three (himself and two
"stranglers,") were placed in the stern, the Thugs on our left, and the
travellers on our right. Some of the Thugs, dressed as boatmen, were
above deck, and others walking along the bank of the river, and pulling
the boat by the joon, or rope, and all, at the same time, on the
look-out. We came up with a gentleman's pinnace and two baggage-boats,
and were obliged to stop, and let them go on. The travellers seemed
anxious; but were quieted by being told that the men at the rope were
tired, and must take some refreshment. They pulled out something, and
began to eat; and when the pinnace had got on a good way, they resumed
their work, and our boat proceeded. It was now afternoon; and, when
a signal was given above, that all was clear, the five Thugs who sat
opposite the travellers sprang in upon them, and, with the aid of
others, strangled them. Having done this, they broke their spinal bones,
and then threw them out of a hole made at the side, into the river, and
kept on their course; the boat being all this time pulled along by the
men on the bank."
That such atrocities as these should have been carried on for nearly
two centuries without exciting the attention of the British Government,
seems incredible. But our wonder will be diminished when we reflect upon
the extreme caution of the Thugs, and the ordinary dangers of travelling
in India. The Thugs never murder a man near his own home, and they never
dispose of their booty near the scene of the murder. They also pay, in
common with other and less atrocious robbers, a portion of their gains
to the Polygars, or native authorities of the districts in which they
reside, to secure protection. The friends and relatives of the victims,
perhaps a thousand miles off, never surmise their fate till a period
has elapsed when all inquiry would be fruitless, or, at least, extremely
difficult. They have no clue to the assassins, and very often impute to
the wild beasts of the jungles the slaughter committed by that wilder
beast, man.
There are several gradations through which every member of the
fraternity must regularly pass before he arrives at the high office of
a Bhurtote, or strangler. He is first employed as a scout--then as
a sexton--then as a Shumseea, or holder of hands, and lastly as a
Bhurtote. When a man who is not of Thug lineage, or who has not been
brought up from his infancy among them, wishes to become a strangler,
he solicits the oldest, and most pious and experienced Thug, to take him
under his protection and make him his disciple; and under his guidance
he is regularly initiated. When he has acquired sufficient experience
in the lower ranks of the profession, he applies to his Gooroo, or
preceptor, to give the finishing grace to his education, and make a
strangler of him. An opportunity is found when a solitary traveller is
to be murdered; and the tyro, with his preceptor, having seen that
the proposed victim is asleep, and in safe keeping till their
return, proceed to a neighbouring field and perform several religious
ceremonies, accompanied by three or four of the oldest and steadiest
members of the gang. The Gooroo first offers up a prayer to the goddess,
saying, "Oh, Kalee! Kun-kalee! Bhud-kalee! Oh, Kalee! Maha-kalee!
Calkutta Walee! if it seems fit to thee that the traveller now at our
lodging should die by the hands of this thy slave, vouchsafe us thy
good omen." They then sit down and watch for the good omen; and if
they receive it within half an hour, conclude that their goddess is
favourable to the claims of the new candidate for admission. If they
have a bad omen, or no omen at all, some other Thug must put the
traveller to death, and the aspirant must wait a more favourable
opportunity, purifying himself in the mean time by prayer and
humiliation for the favour of the goddess. If the good omen has
been obtained, they return to their quarters; and the Gooroo takes a
handkerchief and, turning his face to the west, ties a knot at one end
of it, inserting a rupee, or other piece of silver. This knot is called
the goor khat, or holy knot, and no man who has not been properly
ordained is allowed to tie it. The aspirant receives it reverently in
his right hand from his Gooroo, and stands over the sleeping victim,
with a Shumseea, or holder of hands, at his side. The traveller is
aroused, the handkerchief is passed around his neck, and, at a signal
from the Gooroo, is drawn tight till the victim is strangled; the
Shumseea holding his hands to prevent his making any resistance. The
work being now completed, the Bhurtote (no longer an aspirant, but an
admitted member) bows down reverently in the dust before his Gooroo, and
touches his feet with both his hands, and afterwards performs the same
respect to his relatives and friends who have assembled to witness the
solemn ceremony. He then waits for another favourable omen, when he
unties the knot and takes out the rupee, which he gives to his Gooroo,
with any other silver which he may have about him. The Gooroo adds
some of his own money, with which he purchases what they call goor, or
consecrated sugar, when a solemn sacrifice is performed, to which
all the gang are invited. The relationship between the Gooroo and his
disciple is accounted the most holy that can be formed, and subsists to
the latest period of life. A Thug may betray his father, but never his
Gooroo.
Dark and forbidding as is the picture already drawn, it will become
still darker and more repulsive, when we consider the motives which
prompt these men to systematic murder. Horrible as their practices
would be, if love of plunder alone incited them, it is infinitely more
horrible to reflect that the idea of duty and religion is joined to the
hope of gain, in making them the scourges of their fellows. If plunder
were their sole object, there would be reason to hope, that when a
member of the brotherhood grew rich, he would rest from his infernal
toils; but the dismal superstition which he cherishes tells him never
to desist. He was sent into the world to be a slayer of men, and he
religiously works out his destiny. As religiously he educates his
children to pursue the same career, instilling into their minds, at the
earliest age, that Thuggee is the noblest profession a man can follow,
and that the dark goddess they worship will always provide rich
travellers for her zealous devotees.