THE RETURN TO ALLAHABAD.—EXECUTION OF TWENTY-FIVE THUGS.
“WHO HAS SEEN TO-MORROW?”
_i.e._ Enjoy to-day, no one knows what will happen to-morrow[74].
Removal to Allahabad—Crocodiles—Aurunzebe’s Fort—The Old
Well at Kurrah—Arrival at Allahabad—The Thermantidote—The
King’s Picture and the Celestials—Pattū—Execution of
Twenty-five Thugs—Cholera—The Effect on the Insane—The
Arabian Leprosy—Elephantiasis—Asylums for the Blind and for
Lepers—Lachhmī, the Goddess of Prosperity—Intense Heat—Early
Rising—Danger of a Thermantidote—List of Servants.
1831. _Feb. 1st._—We quitted the Residency at Lucnow, feeling greatly
gratified by the kindness we had experienced from the Resident, and
returned to Cawnpore.
We now prepared for our removal to Allahabad, the horses and carriages
having been dispatched by land; the furniture, &c., was put into six
great country boats, one of which, an immense 900 mŭn patailā, contained
cows, sheep, goats, besides a number of fowls, guinea-fowls, turkeys,
&c.; and on the top of all was a great thermantidote.
_17th._—We quitted Cawnpore, and commenced our voyage down the Ganges.
_18th._—The low sandbanks in the river swarm with crocodiles; ten are
basking on a bank to the left of our boat, and five or six are just
ahead. The sāhib has fired at them several times, but they are beyond the
reach of pistol shot. They are timid animals; as soon as you approach
them they dive down into the river. We have only seen the long-nosed
crocodiles, none of the snub-nosed alligators. What a monster there is
very near us, and such a winsome wee one by its side! I want a baby
crocodile very much for my cabinet.
At Sheorajpore our friends tried to tempt us to remain with them, showing
us a nil-gā’ī, a wild boar, hares, black partridges, and the common grey
partridges, that they had shot; and offering us an elephant to enable us
to join the sportsmen the next day.
How much I enjoy the quietude of floating down the river, and admiring
the picturesque ghāts and temples on its banks! This is the country of
the picturesque, and the banks of the river in parts are beautiful.
On the morning of our quitting Lucnow, my aide-de-camp, the young Bhopaul
chieftain, was made quite happy by being allowed to make his salām to his
Majesty, who gave him a dress of honour.
I can write no more; the sāhib’s vessel has lugāoed, that is, has made
fast to the bank; I must go out shooting with him, and mark the game.
_19th._—We slept off Nobusta; the wind was very high, it blew a gale, but
the high bank afforded us protection. Our boats are large, flat-bottomed,
shallow, and broad country boats, on each of which a great house is built
of bamboo and mats, and the roof is thatched. The interior is fitted up
with coloured chintz, like that used for tents. Such unwieldy vessels are
very likely to be upset in a storm. The great patailā, which contains the
cows, &c., has given us much trouble; she has been aground several times,
being, from her height and bulk, almost unmanageable in a strong wind.
It is very cold, the rain is falling fast; all the servants and the crew
look so deplorable, and keep their shoulders to their ears. The horses on
their march will be exposed to it; they are merely sheltered by a tree at
night,—a cold berth for animals accustomed to warm stables.
_20th._—This has been a day of rain and contrary wind; we have made
but little way, and being unable to reach Mirzapore, have lugāoed off a
sandbank.
_21st._—We breakfasted at Mirzapore, and reached Kurrah at night, where
we moored our little fleet under an old fort built by Aurunzebe. No
sooner had we made fast, than a heavy storm came on, accompanied by
thunder and lightning, hail and rain; the latter was so heavy, it soaked
through the thatch of the bamboo houses on the boats, and rendered us
very uncomfortable. The large patailā was missing, but came in the next
day with her cargo of cows and sheep; from her height she must have been
in danger, as she had not gained the land when the storm came on.
We have moored just below Aurunzebe’s fort, over which I have roamed;
it is an excellent subject for a sketch; the view from the height is
beautiful.
On the other side is an old well, built of the very small Hindostani
bricks; the river has washed away all the bank in which the well was
originally sunk, and it now stands naked on the sand,—a remarkable object.
_24th._—We arrived at Allahabad, and my husband took charge of his
appointment. Then commenced dinner-parties given in honour of our return
by our old friends at the station.
Am I not happy once more in dear old Prāg? We have no troubles as at
Cawnpore; no one poisons our horses; all the people around us appear
pleased at our return, and eager to serve us; our neighbours here are
friends interested in our welfare. My old carpenters, the saddler, the
ironsmith, the painter, the stone-cutter, and the sealing-wax-maker, are
all in their old nooks in the verandah.
_March 1st._—It was so cold we had fires of an evening, which were not
discontinued until the 5th of the month.
Our friend Capt. B⸺ is going home; he will tell those we love of our
goings out and comings in, and will be as a connecting link to those,
betwixt whom and us this great gulph of distance is fixed. It really
requires an exile from home to be able to enjoy its blessings. He will,
or ought to run about almost demented for the first year. Heaven prosper
the good country! I hope to turn Hampshire hog myself, either here or
hereafter, after the Pythagorean system.
The weather is becoming very hot; we are making our house look cool
and comfortable, colouring it with French grey, and hanging pankhās in
preparation for the hot winds. We hope to feel cool by the aid of a
thermantidote, for which we are building a terrace and verandah.
The thermantidote is a structure awful to behold; but we shall benefit
from its good effect; and, like a steam-boat, shall be able to do without
wind, which, with the tattīs commonly in use, is the _sine quâ non_ for
_fraîcheur_.
A thermantidote is an enormous machine for forcing cool air into the
house; it is made of amrā (mango wood), or of sākoo (shorea robusta):
the wheels and axle are of iron. In height, it is about seven feet, in
breadth four or five, and some nine or ten or twelve feet in length.
There is a little machine sold in England, under the name of a
fire-blower, which is on the same principle, and is almost a miniature
thermantidote. It also resembles in some respects a machine for winnowing
corn, but on a larger scale.
The thermantidote, which is hollow, and of circular form, has a
projecting funnel, which is put through and fixed into a window of the
house, from the machine which stands in the verandah.
In the interior, four large fans are affixed to an iron axle, which,
passing through the centre of the machine, is turned round by two men on
the outside; by which means the fans revolve, and force the air out of
the thermantidote through the funnel into the house.
To render the outer air cool, which is thus driven into the house, a
circle of about four feet in diameter is cut out in the planks which
form the two broad sides of the thermantidote; and beyond these circles
khās-khās tattīs are affixed; so that the vacuum produced by forcing the
air out of the machine is supplied by air passing through the tattīs.
On each side of the thermantidote, on the outside at the top, a long
trough is fixed, perforated with small holes in its bottom. Water
is constantly poured into these troughs, which, dropping through the
holes upon the tattīs placed below them, keeps them constantly wetted.
This water is received below in two similar troughs, and, passing
through a little spout at the side, is collected in tubs, or in large
high earthen pans. Coolies are constantly employed in handing up this
water, in thiliyas (earthen waterpots), to other coolies on the top of
the thermantidote, whose business it is to keep the tattīs constantly
dripping wet. By this means, all the air that passes into the body of
the machine through the wetted khās-khās is rendered cool, and fit to be
forced into the house by the action of the fans in their circular course.
The thermantidote stands upon four small wheels, which facilitate the
movement of so cumbersome and ponderous a machine.
Khās-khās was put on the thermantidote to-day; you have no idea how
fragrant, delicious, and refreshing is the scent of the fresh khās-khās,
which is the root of a high jungle grass, called gāndar (andropogon
muricatum). These fibrous roots are thinly worked into bamboo frames,
which fit exactly into the thermantidote, or into windows. These frames
are kept constantly watered, for the purpose of cooling the hot wind;
which, passing through the wetted roots, is lowered many degrees in
temperature, owing to the evaporation that is produced.
Our station is about to be increased by the addition of two Boards; one
of Revenue, and one of Criminal and Civil Justice. The station is already
sufficiently large for quiet society.
We have received the news of a Chinese revolution; or rather the old
squabble, but of a more violent sort, between the Factory and the Hong
merchants. Trade is stopped, and the papers here are talking of the
necessity of fitting out an expedition to chastise the celestials. The
mob broke into the Factory, and, amongst other extravagancies, amused
themselves with spitting at the King’s picture, and then turning it with
its face to the wall!
The Arabs bring down a sort of coarse shawl, called puttuah or pattū;
it is extremely light, and remarkably soft and warm. I was examining
some, intending to purchase it: “This is not a good piece,” said I. “The
name of God is better than this!” exclaimed the man, with indignation;
meaning, nothing is superior to it but the name of God[75].
EXECUTION OF TWENTY-FIVE THUGS.
_May 9th._—The inhabitants at Jubbulpore were this morning
assembled to witness the execution of twenty-five Thugs, who
were all hanged at the same time, arrangements having been
previously made. It would be impossible to find in any country
a set of men who meet death with more indifference than these
wretches; and, had it been in a better cause, they would have
excited universal sympathy.
As it was, there was something dreadful in the thought that
men, who had so often imbrued their hands in blood, should
meet their death with such carelessness. I believe they had
previously requested to be allowed to fasten the cord around
their necks with their own hands; certain it is that each
individual, as soon as he had adjusted the noose, jumped off
the beam, and launched himself into eternity; and those who
first mounted the ladder selected their ropes, rejecting such
as did not please them. One of them, who had leaped off the
beam, and had been hanging for more than three seconds, put his
hand up and pulled his cap over his face.
This is the second execution of Thugs that has taken place
here, but no accident happened this time, nor did a single rope
break.
However satisfied with the justice of their sentence, of which,
from the many sanguinary murders proved, there can be no doubt;
still, it cannot but be lamented that the course of justice is
so slow; as these men, who were this day executed, have been
in prison for more than eight years, for want of sufficient
evidence.
The number of Thugs in the neighbouring countries is enormous;
a hundred and fifteen, I believe, belonged to the party of
which twenty-five were executed, and the remainder are to be
transported; and report says there are as many more in the
Saugor jail.
Too much credit cannot be given to the principal assistants
of this district, who have succeeded in capturing so many of
them; and Capt. S⸺ has the satisfaction of knowing that by his
endeavours these men have been seized.
The extent of murder committed by the Thugs exceeds belief;
and some time since a serjeant-major was murdered by a party
of them. One of the principal assistants, some time ago, when
marching in the district, received information that some bodies
which had been strangled were under his tent, and upon digging,
he discovered a great many!
One of the men who were executed this morning was a chaprāsi,
who had been sent towards Nagpore to seize the party, but who
joined himself with them, and by his presence protected them.
A guard of a company of sipahīs, under the command of Lieut.
G⸺, was in attendance; but there was not the slightest
disturbance, nor did the natives betray the slightest emotion
of any kind, except one Nujeeb, who fainted.
A SPECTATOR.
_13th._—Deep grief and affliction has fallen upon us: the happiness of
our lives is overcast: the stroke of death has deprived us of one beloved
most tenderly.
Our physician has just quitted us: we have had a conversation on the
subject of the dreadful malady that has wrought for us so much misery: he
says,
“Cholera is the endemic of Ceylon: from the year 1813 to 1817 I never
met with it in India. In 1817 it burst out in a madhouse, of which I had
the charge, and the patients confined there died daily, in the course
of a few hours after the first seizure. The horror produced amongst the
unfortunate insane was so great that many became perfectly sane. One
instance was remarkable.
“A man who had attempted to destroy himself in a fit of frenzy, by
cutting his own throat, and stabbing himself, became perfectly sane; and
coming to me, entreated to be allowed to leave the madhouse, as he was
sure he should die of the cholera. It was utterly impossible his request
could be granted at the moment; in the course of the week he fell a
victim to the malady he dreaded.”
Our medical man added, “The causes of cholera are quite unknown. I know
that the disease is often confined to a space of two or three hundred
yards: for instance, deaths occur daily in the madhouse. In the jail,
which contained five hundred prisoners, and was not three hundred yards
distant, not a case appeared. I was so well convinced of the disease
being confined to a certain spot, that I applied for leave to remove all
the insane to a spare room in the jail; from the time of their entering
the jail, not one man died of cholera.
“The environs, as well as the interior of the madhouse were quite clear
and pure; no stagnant water, nothing that could generate disease in any
shape.”
I mentioned that it was supposed our beloved one had been exposed to
the baneful influence of cholera, in passing through Arcot, where it
was known to be. He said, “Certainly not, it would not lurk about a
person twenty-four hours.” Until the moment she was seized she was in
perfect health. “I once saw a man, previously in good health, seized with
cholera; he was sitting in a chair, talking to me: he dropped—his nervous
power quite prostrated; he was perfectly sensible the whole time, and
died in a few hours.”
I asked, if the sufferings were not very great—the physician replied, “I
should think not, from the extreme want of life in the body. The effect
of the illness is such, that the vital spark is almost extinguished
whilst still the body breathes.” He said, “You should not grieve at the
speedy termination of her illness; from severe cholera it is hardly
possible to recover. Those who do recover, generally linger on for twelve
or fourteen days, and then expire in a melancholy state: it is better it
should terminate at once[76].”
It came from Ceylon, and broke out with dreadful severity in 1817;
especially in what _we_ call Bengal, which is 100 miles around the
Presidency; since which time, it has raged partially in Calcutta, and all
the Lower Provinces, also in the higher; but in the Central Provinces, in
which Allahabad is situated, it is very rare, only one case of cholera
having occurred during the last two years at this station.
At Berhampore it is dreadfully prevalent; the 48th regiment quitted this
a short time ago by the river, and lost nine men at that place. No diet,
no care, can avail. Our medical man said, “I can compare it to nothing
but a flash of lightning; its effects are instantaneous; the nerves from
the first moment are powerless, dull, and torpid.”
If I were to be seized with it to-morrow, I should only strive to resign
myself quietly to my fate, feeling, that to strive against the malady is
hopeless: in fever you have hope, in cholera scarcely a shadow of it;
it is better not indulged; but the disease is so powerful it dulls the
senses,—mercifully dulls them.
The cholera is raging at Malda; all the public works are stopped in
consequence.
_18th._—The thermantidote has been put up in our verandah. The rooms
are ten degrees cooler than when we had only tattīs. For the first time
I have been laid up with a strong attack of rheumatism and lumbago. My
medical man says, “The thermantidote pours forth such a volume of cold
air, that if you have fallen asleep near it, it has caused all these
aches and pains. ‘Nulla rosa senza spine.’”
THE ARABIAN LEPROSY (KOOSTUM).
Happily this dreadful disease is not as common as the other forms of
leprosy: but once I beheld a dreadful specimen of its virulence; going
into the verandah at 7 A.M., where the carpenters were all at work, a
close and most disagreeable effluvium annoyed me—the cause could not be
discovered.
Just beyond, in the garden, lay a lump under a black blanket. “What is
this?” said Lutchman, the carpenter, “the smell proceeds from this
lump.” He raised the blanket, beneath it was a leper. Lutchman desired
the man to quit the grounds. The poor wretch held up his hands and showed
his feet; the fingers and toes of which were festering and rotten from
the black Arabian leprosy!
I desired he might be carried to the hospital. “We will not touch him,”
said the servants; “let him go to the leper hospital.” I sent the man
a rupee. “What is the use of a rupee?” said Lutchman, “he cannot enter
the bazār; how can he change it?” I sent him some copper coins. “Perhaps
some one of low caste will bring him food and take the ānās,” said the
carpenter. The poor wretch raised himself, made salām for the money, and
crawled away on his knees and elbows.
The next day he was found dead in a field: some of the copper coins had
been expended, the remainder and the rupee were on his person.
The man had come up from Calcutta on a boat, had been put ashore under
our garden bank, and had crawled up; he had not a cowrie. “There was not
even left a sigh in his heart[77].”
He was totally destitute: but of this I was ignorant, until the next day.
The effluvium was so bad, and the danger of infection so fearful, it was
necessary to remove him at once from the garden.
There is a pink leprosy very common: I have often seen a man—once I saw
two men—bathing amongst a multitude of men and women, their skins were
pink, like the pink of salmon; the disease is not catching, I understand,
and they are not avoided.
Another leprosy shows itself in white spots on their dark skins. I was
practising archery one morning early; suddenly from behind a tree, a
woman came to me, and throwing herself on the ground, laid hold of my
foot with both hands, and bent her head upon it; saying, “Mercy, mercy,
Beebee Sāhiba!” “May you bathe in milk, and be fruitful in children[78]!”
A gentleman present caught me by the shoulder, and pulled me back, at
the same time speaking angrily to the woman. “Do you not see,” said
he, “she is a leper? She is covered with spots, come away, I am very
sorry she touched you.” I gave her some ānās, and told her to go to the
hospital—one established by the contributions of the gentlemen at the
station, and supported by subscription. There is, also, an asylum for the
blind, supported in the same manner.
If I remember correctly, in the course of six weeks after the opening of
the Leper Hospital, it contained sixty patients. I have often walked my
horse round the compound, during my morning ride, to look at the poor
creatures.
The elephantiasis, called by the natives fīl-paī, from fīl, an elephant,
and paī a foot, is sometimes seen in the Up Country, but is not as common
as in Bengal; perhaps the chapāties, thin cakes of unleavened bread which
the natives here eat, conduce more to health than rice, the principal
food in Bengal. However that may be, it is certain so many miserable
objects are not to be seen here afflicted with fīl-paī, as in that low,
marshy, and swampy country.
Divine service is performed at Allahabad, either in the Fort or at the
Circuit Bungalow, the resident families being unable amongst themselves
to raise a sum sufficient to build a handsome church: nevertheless they
are the most liberal contributors to all charitable institutions.
LACHHMĪ, THE GODDESS OF BEAUTY.
There is to be a raffle for an English imported chestnut horse. I have
taken a ticket, but not without first invoking Lachhmī, the goddess
of beauty and prosperity. She who is painted yellow, and dwells in a
water-lily, the goddess of fortunate signs; she who holds the water-lily
in her hands, she in whom all take refuge, the wife of Hŭrēē.
If a man be growing rich, the Hindoos say, “Lachhmī is gone to abide in
his house:” if he be sinking into poverty, “Lachhmī has forsaken him.” If
they wish to abuse a man they call him “Lachhmī-chara,” _i.e._ luckless.
[Illustration: LACHHMĪ THE GODDESS OF BEAUTY.
فاني پارکس]
Vishnoo obtained this goddess of beauty from the sea, when it was
churned by the good and evil spirits for the amrita, or immortal
beverage. Like Venus she arose beautiful from the foam of the ocean,
ascended to the heavens, and captivated all the gods.
In the sketch which I copied from a native picture at Prāg, the beautiful
goddess, seated in a water-lily, is bathing in a novel style. Four
elephants, from their trunks, are pouring the Ganges water over her.
Oh! Lachhmī, send the chestnut horse to abide in my stables! let me
rejoice in Akbal! (good fortune.)
“From the body of Lachhmī the fragrance of the lotus extends 800 miles.
This goddess shines like a continued blaze of lightning!”
It is as well to remark, with respect to this sketch, that at the end
of each of the trunks of the four elephants there is a turn, which, in
the original old Hindoo drawing from which I copied it, I could not
comprehend. In putting it on stone I left those four turns, but not quite
so large as in the original. Since which time I have minutely examined a
marble image in my possession, of _two_ elephants pouring water over the
head of the beautiful goddess, who appears seated on a water-lily, with a
chatr, the emblem of royalty, over her head, and the buds of the lotus in
her hands.
Each of these elephants holds in his trunk one of those long-necked
globe-shaped bottles, in which the pilgrims carry holy water, and from
them they are pouring the liquid. It is possible that the circles that
are indistinct in the Hindoo drawing of the four elephants may have been
the outlines of such bottles.
However, the sea-born goddess is placed in a much more picturesque point
of view, if you imagine her as she appears, floating in the beautiful and
pure blossom of the lotus, while bathed from the trunks of the elephants
with the sacred water of the Ganges.
Since our arrival from Cawnpore, I have never mounted my horse, my
spirits have been too much depressed.
_June 1st._—Finding myself ill for want of exercise, I commenced rising
early; dressing by candlelight, going out by moonlight, and mounting my
horse at half-past 3 A.M.! What an unnatural life! The buggy is always
sent forward to await my arrival at a certain spot; I never draw my
horse’s rein until I arrive at the place, the heat is so much greater
when you walk your horse. I return in the buggy at 6 A.M., go to bed for
a couple of hours, bathe, and appear at breakfast.
How often “Chār vajr, barī fajr,” _i.e._ four o’clock in the early dawn,
sleepy and unwilling to exert myself, have I thought of the proverb:—“Oh,
thou who art so fond of sleep, why don’t you die at once[79]?”
To-day the heat is dreadful; 89° even at the mouth of the thermantidote,
and in the other parts of the house six degrees higher! After my early
canter, I did not quit my chārpāī until 3 P.M., so completely was I
exhausted by the heat.
Although by nature not inclined to the melting mood, I felt as if
I should dissolve, such streams from my forehead, such thirst, and
lassitude; I really “thaw, and resolve myself into a dew.” The call all
day is soda-water, soda-water.
To the 21st of June, this oppressive weather held its sway; our only
consolation grapes, iced-water, and the thermantidote, which answers
admirably, almost too well, as on the 22nd I was laid up with rheumatic
fever and lumbago, occasioned, they tell me, by standing, or sleeping
before it after coming in from a canter before sunrise.
_22nd._—Heavy rain fell, the thermantidote was stopped, and the tattīs
taken down; nor were they replaced, as the rain poured down almost night
and day from that time until the end of the month.
_30th._—We had a party at home: the thermometer during the day 88°; after
dinner it rose to 91°, in consequence of the numerous lamps in the rooms,
and the little multitude of servants in attendance.
A LIST OF SERVANTS IN A PRIVATE FAMILY.
Wages.
No. Rupees per month.
1 A khānsāmān, or head man; a Musalmān servant who purchases
the provisions, makes the confectionary, and superintends
the table 12
2 The ābdār, or water-cooler; cools the water, ices the wines,
and attends with them at table 8
3 The head khidmatgār; he takes charge of the plate-chest, and
waits at table 7
4 A second khidmatgār, who waits at table 6
5 A bāwarchī, or cook 12
6 Mate bāwarchī 4
7 Mashalchī; dish-washer and torch-bearer 4
8 Dhobee, or washerman 8
9 Istree wālā, washerman for ironing 8
10 A darzee, or tailor 8
11 A second tailor 6
12 An ayha, or lady’s maid 10
13 An under woman 6
14 A doriya; a sweeper, who also attends to the dogs 4
15 Sirdar-bearer, an Hindoo servant, the head of the bearers,
and the keeper of the sāhib’s wardrobe; the keys of which
are always carried in his kamarband, the folds of cloth
around his waist 8
16 The mate-bearer; assists as valet, and attends to the lamps 6
22 Six bearers to pull the pankhās, and dust the furniture, &c. 24
23 A gwālā, or cowherd 4
24 A bher-i-wālā, or shepherd 5
25 A murgh-i-wālā, to take care of the fowls, wild-ducks, quail,
rabbits, guinea-fowls, and pigeons 4
26 A mālee, or gardener 5
27 A mate, do 3
28 Another mate, or a cooly 2
29 A gram-grinder, generally a woman who grinds the chanā for the
horses 2
30 A coachman 10
38 Eight sā’īses, or (grooms), at five rupees each, for eight horses 40
46 Eight grass-cutters, at three rupees each, for the above 24
47 A bihishti, or water-carrier 5
48 A mate bihishti 4
49 A Barha’ī mistree, a carpenter 8
50 Another carpenter 7
52 Two coolies, to throw water on the tattīs 4
54 Two chaukīdārs, or watchmen 8
55 A durwān, or gate-keeper 4
57 Two chaprāsīs, or running footmen, to carry notes, and be in
attendance in the verandah 10
-- ---
57 total. Rupees per month 290
-- ---
or about 290_l._ per annum.
During the hot winds, a number of extra coolies, twelve or fourteen, are
necessary, if you have more than one thermantidote, or if you keep it
going all night as well as during the day; these men, as well as an extra
bihishti, are discharged when the rains set in.
We, as quiet people, find these servants necessary. Some gentlemen for
state add an assa burdar, the bearer of a long silver staff; and a sonta
burdar, or chob-dar, who carries a silver club, with a grim head on the
top of it. The business of these people is to announce the arrival of
company.
If many dogs are kept, an extra doriya will be required.
The above is a list of our own domestics, and the rate of their wages.
The heat of the climate, added to the customs and prejudices of the
natives, oblige you to keep a number of servants; but you do not find
them in food as in England. One man will not do the work of another,
but says, “I shall lose caste,” which caste, by the bye, may be regained
by the expenditure of a few rupees in a dinner to their friends and
relatives. The Mohammadan servants pretend they shall lose caste; but, in
fact, they have none: the term is only applicable to the Hindoos.
If your khānsāmān and sirdar-bearer are good and honest servants, you
have little or no trouble with an Indian household; but, unless you are
fortunate with your head servants, there is great trouble in keeping
between fifty or sixty domestics in order.