TARA: A MAHRATTA TALE
_EXTRACTS FROM SOME PRESS NOTICES OF "TARA."_
THE "TIMES."
"For its rapid action, in fact, we have seldom read a better story, or
one which is more full of incidents, sanguinary, trenchant, and robust."
THE "DAILY TELEGRAPH."
"A true and a wonderfully well-sustained piece of Oriental life and
striking history."
THE "SPECTATOR."
"This is a very remarkable book. It is a determined attempt to bring
the interior Hindoo and Mussulman life of a great Mahratta province
during the most exciting times home to the hearts and understandings
of Englishmen, to interest them in people with whom they have nothing
except human nature in common."
"MORNING POST."
"'Tara' is a unique work. There is nothing like it in the English
literature of fiction. No other writer has ever attempted the portrayal
of Indian life, society, and interests, entirely free from any European
admixture of character or incident. The author himself now does so
for the first time. 'The Confessions of a Thug' related to British
jurisdiction in India. 'Tippoo Sultan' dealt with the gallant struggles
of that monarch against the encroaching British power, but 'Tara' is
all Indian."
"SATURDAY REVIEW."
"It is seldom that we meet with a work of fiction executed with
anything like the conscientious care and minute elaboration of Captain
Meadows Taylor's Indian Tale. His characters have mostly the clearness
and individuality of portraits, and his scenery exhibits all the marked
and decisive features of photographs taken on the spot. The work
throughout is evidently that of a master of Oriental life and character
in love with his subject, to whom nothing appears trivial or beneath
notice that can illustrate the peculiar traits of Asiatic nature, or
kindle an enthusiasm for knowing more of the history, manners, and
usages of our fellow-subjects in the east."
THE "STANDARD."
"In no one part of the work has Captain Taylor shown more thorough art
than in those pages in which he details the features of the Hindoo
and Mahomedan family life. He never overloads; his characters are not
lay figures attired in triple folds of gorgeous robes to hide their
nakedness. With a few subtle touches he shows us the interior life of
each household, and the morning springs of every character, and he
leaves us to fill in the obvious details for ourselves."
COLONEL MEADOWS TAYLOR'S INDIAN TALES.
Each complete in 1 volume, Crown 8vo. Illustrated, price 6s.
THE CONFESSIONS OF A THUG.
RALPH DARNELL.
TARA.
TIPPOO SULTAUN.
LONDON: C. KEEGAN PAUL & CO.
[Illustration: "Now listen, all ye Brahmuns; I am true and pure, and I
am Sutee henceforth."
P. 461.]
TARA
_A MAHRATTA TALE_
BY
MEADOWS TAYLOR,
C.S.I., M.R.A.S., M.R.I.A., ETC., ETC.,
AUTHOR OF "SEETA," "CONFESSIONS OF A THUG," ETC., ETC.
THIRD EDITION
LONDON:
C. KEGAN PAUL & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE.
1879.
(_The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved._)
To
HIS EXCELLENCY
THE EARL OF CARLISLE, K. G.,
VICEROY OF IRELAND,
ETC. ETC. ETC.
MY LORD,
THE SCENES AND CHARACTERS WHICH I HAVE ENDEAVOURED TO DEPICT IN THESE
VOLUMES WILL BE NECESSARILY NEW AND STRANGE TO YOU; BUT IF THEY
EXCITE INTEREST IN THE NATIVE ANNALS OF A COUNTRY OF WHICH I FIND BUT
LITTLE REAL KNOWLEDGE EXISTING, THE OBJECT OF THE WORK WILL HAVE BEEN
ATTAINED; WHILE, BY THE KIND COURTESY WHICH PERMITS ME TO DEDICATE IT
TO YOU, YOUR EXCELLENCY CONFERS UPON ME A VERY SINCERE GRATIFICATION.
I HAVE THE HONOUR TO BE,
YOUR LORDSHIP'S VERY FAITHFUL SERVANT,
MEADOWS TAYLOR.
OLD COURT,
HAROLD'S CROSS, NEAR DUBLIN,
_August, 1863_.
PROLOGUE.
In the year 1839, I became acquainted with the late Professor Wilson;
and in course of conversation on the possibility of illustrating events
in Indian history by works of fiction, the details of the present
story, among other subjects, were slightly sketched out by me. He was
interested in them, and suggested my writing the tale for "Blackwood's
Magazine." I could not, however, then commence it, and deferred doing
so till my return to India; but, falling into political and civil
employment there, was never able to continue what I had begun, till my
return home.
The history of the period of this tale, A.D. 1657, will be found at
length in Scott's "Ferishta," and vol. i. of Grant Duff's "History of
the Mahrattas;" and to these works I beg to refer such of my readers as
may be curious in regard to its particulars, of which a slight sketch
may not, perhaps, be altogether out of place.
In A.D. 1347, a great portion of the Dekhan was consolidated into a
kingdom by Sultan Alla-oo-deen, who founded the Bahmuni dynasty. It
was divided into three great provinces, Dowlatabad, Beejapoor, and
Golconda, which, on the decay of the royal house, became separate
kingdoms under their several viceroys, who successively declared
their independence. Of these, Beejapoor was the largest, and became
by far the most important and powerful. Yoosuf Adil Shah, a Turk of
European descent, believed, indeed, to have been the son of a Sultan of
Constantinople, threw off his allegiance to the Bahmuni dynasty in A.D.
1489, and established himself at Beejapoor, which afterwards rose to be
the greatest, as it was the most magnificent, city of the Dekhan.
The prosperity of the Dekhan kingdoms excited the jealousy of the
Moghul Emperors of Dehli, and their subjugation was projected by
the Emperor Akbur; but it had made little progress at his death in
A.D. 1605. In the reign of his grandson Shah Jehán, the State of
Ahmednugger, or Dowlatabad, was finally subdued about 1630, and the
Moghul power so far established in the Dekhan. His son, Aurungzeeb,
pursued the reduction of the two remaining kingdoms, Beejapoor and
Golconda, with varying success, but untiring pertinacity; and, before
his death in 1707, they had succumbed to him. Beejapoor fell on the
15th October, 1686; Golconda in September, 1687.
Amidst the struggles of the Mahomedans, the predatory power of the
Mahratta people arose under Sivaji, and assumed a more definite form
than it had ever before possessed; and, as the author of the Mahratta
History observes, "stirred those latent embers till, like the parched
grass kindled amidst the forests of the Syhadree mountains, they burst
forth in spreading flame, and men afar wondered at the conflagration."
Of the many remarkable and romantic events connected with the rise of
the Mahratta power, those which form the subject of the present tale
are, of all, the most cherished by the people; and they are recited,
or sung in ballads, with an interest which time does not diminish, and
which has exalted the national hero, Sivaji Rajah, to the distinction
almost of a demigod.
At the period of the tale, 1657, though the political foundations of
Beejapoor were shaking, nothing had affected its material prosperity;
and the palaces, mosques, mausoleums, and other public buildings of the
capital, were in their greatest magnificence. The city itself, except
its vast fortifications, which are still perfect, has now, for the most
part, disappeared; and long lines of shapeless mounds, covering an
immense area, mark where its streets existed. In some quarters there
are villages, widely separated, which once formed part of the general
masses of habitations; and there are everywhere remains of mosques,
tombs, and palaces, which convey a true estimate of the wealth of
those for whom they were constructed, and the taste and skill of the
architects.
The citadel is still perfect as to walls, towers, and ditch, and is a
very complete and picturesque specimen of Puthán fortification. The
royal palaces situated in it, are, however, roofless, much ruined,
and advancing to destruction; and the gardens and terraces, with their
fountains, are covered by brushwood and tangled creepers. It is a
happy thing, however, that the liberality of the Indian Government has
arrested decay, wherever practicable, and that all the most beautiful
buildings have been restored, while repairs continue to be made as
needful.
The buildings so restored are--
The Mausoleum of Ibrahim Adil Shah, called the Ibrahim Roza;
The Mausoleum of Mahmood Adil Shah;
The Méhturi Mahal;
The Jumma Mosque;
The Assar Shureef;
The Royal Well, with its cloisters; and some others.
Of the above, the Assar Shureef is one of the ancient royal palaces,
which contains some sacred relics; and, being in the actual condition
in which it was left, is perhaps the most interesting of all.
By orders of Government also, drawings from actual measurement were
made a few years ago by a clever civil engineer and architect, of all
the principal buildings. These are now in the India Library in London;
and, to any one curious on the subject, will give a far better idea of
the superb Saracenic architecture of the Adil Shahy dynasty, than any
description. Mahomedan architecture in India is always beautiful; but
there is a combination of grandeur and grace about that of Beejapoor
which is not approached elsewhere, and a beauty of ornament and
execution nowhere exceeded. The Jumma Mosque, with its side aisles, was
constructed for the accommodation of eight thousand persons at prayer;
and the superb dome of the Mausoleum of Sultan Mahmood Adil Shah, built
of hewn stone, is the largest in its outward diameter in the world.
With these noble remains, the country around them, and its population
of all classes, I have been familiar for many years past; and such
descriptions of scenery and character as may be found in these volumes,
are the result of personal knowledge. The actors in my story are Hindus
and Mahomedans; but the same passions and affections exist among them
as among ourselves, and thus the motives and deeds of my characters
may, at least, be intelligible. I can only hope they may prove of
interest.
It was very strange, twenty-five years ago, to observe the remarkable
interval of exactly one hundred years, between the attack of Sivaji on
the Beejapoor Mahomedans in 1657, and the victory of Lord Clive over
those of Bengal at Plassey in 1757. Both results led directly to the
establishment of powers widely differing in their aims and characters,
but not the less irresistible by the Mahomedans; and the victory at
Pertâbgurh was as directly conducive to the establishment and extension
of the Mahratta authority, and the decadence of the Mahomedan, as
that of Plassey has been to our own sovereignty, and to the political
extinction of both. But this curious accordance of dates becomes
still more interesting, when we observe that, on the anniversary of
a third century, June, 1857, the heads of Mahomedan and Mahratta
power were leagued against that which had subdued both; and know that
their combined efforts however desperate, and their intrigues however
virulent, proved alike futile.
TARA: A MAHRATTA TALE.
CHAPTER I.
"Tara, O Tara! where art thou?"
"Mother, I am here. Is it time?"
"Yes; we should go with the offerings to the temple. Come, thy father
hath long been gone, and it will be broad day ere we can reach it.
Come," said her mother, entering a small open verandah which skirted
the inner court of the house, where the girl sat reading by the light
of a lamp, now paling before the dawn which was fast spreading over the
sky.
She shut her book with a reverential gesture, laid it aside in its
quilted cover, and stood up. How beautiful she was! Let us describe
this Brahmun girl to you, O reader! if we can, and tell you a little
concerning her.
There were many fair women of her sect in Tooljapoor, and they are
always the most remarkable of their country-women, but none so fair as
Tara, the daughter of Vyas Shastree.[1] From her earliest childhood
she had given promise of grace and beauty, and since that period--from
the time when, hanging shyly to the skirt of her mother's garment, she
passed daily through the crowded bazaar and street which led to the
upper gate of the temple--to the present, she had ever been an object
of remark and admiration; while the rank and learning of her father,
and his position as chief priest, had maintained for her a continued
and increasing interest as she grew up. None who had the privilege of
addressing her ever omitted a loving greeting or respectful salutation:
the public flower-sellers intrusted her with their choicest garlands
or nosegays to offer up at the shrine--the confectioners had ever a
delicate sweetmeat with which to tempt the child--and even the rudest
peasant or soldier looked at her, as she passed him, in wonder,
stretched out his hands to her, and kissed the tips of his fingers in a
worshipful salutation and benediction.
The promise of the child was more than fulfilled in the girl now
budding into early womanhood; and her appearance was so remarkable
that, while many of her old friends in the bazaar now rarely ventured
to accost her, and even turned aside their heads reverently as she
passed, she could not traverse the crowded street which led from her
house to the temple, or, indeed, move anywhere during the day without
attracting admiration from the crowds of strangers who, from all
parts of India, visited that renowned shrine of which her father was
the chief priest and manager. Many a pilgrim and worshipper gazed
wonderingly upon the calm, gentle face which met him at the earliest
dawn in its devotional perambulation round the temple, or followed
with his eye the graceful figure which, carrying the daily sacrificial
offerings, descended the flights of steps by which the shrine was
approached; and, far away in his native village, under the snows of
Himalaya, the burning sands of Raméshwur, or the green plains of
Bengal, told of the beautiful vision, and never forgot it.
Tara has been up since before the false dawn. She has assisted her
father with water to bathe, and in his private worship of the household
gods. She has bathed herself, and is now dressed in the simple saree,
or robe of all Hindu females. It is of dark blue silk, striped with
a fainter blue, and has a broad border of a light but rich pattern
harmonizing with the colours of the garment which, consisting of one
long piece only, is wound round her several times to form a skirt, then
passed about her body and over her head on the left side, whence the
end, which is of rich gold tissue interwoven with crimson flowers and
green leaves, hangs heavily over her right shoulder and back. Below the
garment is a closely-fitting bodice of striped orange silk only; but
no portion of it is visible except a little of the sleeve above the
elbow. Tara is holding the border of her dress close to her cheek, as
if to conceal it even from her mother; and the graceful outline of her
arm may be followed, from the tips of the taper fingers past the wrist
partly covered with purple bangles and a massive gold ring, along the
soft round arm to the dimpled elbow, whence it is lost among the folds
of the saree which falls over it.
Do you expect that her complexion will be fair like that of our own
northern girls? Ah, no! that would not harmonize with the dress or the
country; and yet it is very fair. Not a deep rich olive, but what seems
at a first glance pale and colourless; yet the skin is so glossy and
transparent that the warm glow of her blood is suffused under it with
the least passing emotion or excitement, which, as it fades, leaves, as
you think, a more beautiful tint behind.
And the features harmonized with the colour. To a casual observer their
expression was almost one of habitual sadness, yet it was not so in
reality: there was calm, which as yet had known no rude ruffling--a
sweetness that was index to a simple, loving, trustful mind. True, she
had cares beyond those of ordinary household occurrences, and these had
no doubt increased the pensive expression always remarkable. So her
countenance was not easy to describe: nor could you account very well
for the patient, care-enduring look which met you from one so young.
What every one saw first, were the soft brown eyes, shaded with long
eyelashes which rested upon the cheek. Ordinarily perhaps, or if seen
when cast down, these eyes appeared nowise remarkable; yet if passing
emotions were noticed, they closed when she was merry, till only a
bright spark of light remained glistening through the long lashes; and
again, if surprise, wonder, or admiration were excited, they suddenly
expanded, so that one looked into a depth of clear glowing colour,
violet and brown, the expression of which could not be fathomed. But
habitually they were modest, pensive, and gentle--full of intelligence,
and seemed to correspond with a low musical cadence of voice perfectly
natural, yet assisted, perhaps, by the habit of reading and studying
aloud, which she had learned from her father. In those calm eyes there
was as yet no passion of any kind. Some suffering, perhaps, but no
rough awakening to the reality of life.
The rest of her face left nothing to be desired. The Brahmuns of
Western India usually possess features more European in their character
than those of the same sect in other parts of the country, and in this
respect the women share them with the men, if they do not, indeed,
exceed them. So Tara had a soft oval face, with small full lips and
mouth, a thin straight nose with nostrils almost transparent, which
seemed to obey the passing emotions of her countenance. Though the
features were soft, they were neither insipid nor weak in character; on
the contrary, they appeared full of a woman's best strength--endurance
and patience; while, in the full glossy chin and throat, enough of
determination was expressed to show firmness and consistency of no
common order. Except the eyes, perhaps, there was no feature of the
face which could be called exactly beautiful, yet the whole combined to
create an expression which was irresistibly interesting and charming;
and where all harmonized, separate portions were not remarked.
Every movement of her lithe form was displayed by the soft silk drapery
which fell over it in those graceful folds which we see expressed in
ancient statues, and it was cast in those full yet delicately rounded
proportions which sculptors have best loved to imitate. Standing as she
was, the girl had fallen into an attitude which was most expressive:
her head raised and turned to meet her mother's entrance: a delicate
naked foot, with a chain anklet of gold resting on it, put out from
beneath her robe: her eyes open, yet not to their full width: and her
lips apart, disclosing the even glistening teeth:--she appeared, in her
arrested movement, as if she waited some further communication from her
mother, or had herself one to make before she stirred.
No wonder that, as each morning she left the house with her mother to
pay her devotions at the temple, and passed along with downcast eyes,
her graceful figure attracted increased attention day by day. Many a
good wish followed her--many a benediction from the aged poor of the
town, to whom her charities were liberally dispensed; and it might be,
too, that other admiration, less pure in its character, also rested
upon her, and often, unknown to her, dogged her steps.
The contrast between Tara and her mother was in most respects a
striking one. No one could deny that Anunda Bye was a handsome woman;
her neighbours and gossips told her so, and she quite believed it.
She looked, too, very young of her age; and as she sailed down or up
the street leading to the temple, and received the humble salutations
of shopkeepers, flower-sellers, and all the tradesmen of that busy
quarter, with an air which plainly showed how much she considered
it due to her rank and station--it would have been difficult to say
whether the timid girl following her, and screening her face from the
gaze of the people as she moved along, was her daughter or youngest
sister. Either she might be, and it seemed more probable the latter,
than the former.
Taller than her daughter as yet, Anunda Bye was not without much of the
same grace of figure; but it was cast on a bolder scale. The features
were more decided and prominent, the colour several shades darker.
The face, handsome as it was, had little of the softening element
of intellectuality in it; and Anunda was ignorant of everything but
household management, in which she excelled, in all departments, to
a degree that made her the envy of her female acquaintance, and her
husband the envied of his male associates whose domestic affairs were
not conducted with the same regularity, and whose cookery was not so
good.
Enter the Shastree's house at any time, and you were at once struck
with its great neatness. The floor was always plastered with liquid
clay by the women-servants when he was absent at the temple for
morning worship, and retained a cool freshness while it dried, and,
indeed, during the day. It was generally decorated by pretty designs
in white and red chalk powder dropped between the finger and thumb,
in the execution of which both mother and daughter were very expert
and accomplished. The Shastree's seat, which was, in fact, a small
raised dais at one side of the large room, was usually decked with
flowers, while upon the floor before it, the greatest artistic skill
was expended in ornament by Tara and her mother. Above it were
pictures of favourite divinities, painted in distemper colour: the
amorous blue-throated Krishna playing to the damsels of Muttra; the
solemn four-armed Ganésha, sitting with a grave elephant's head on
his shoulders; the beautiful Lakshmee and Suruswuti, the goddesses
of wealth and learning, the objects of household adoration: and the
terrible six-armed Bhowani in her contest with the demon Mahéshwur,
in commemoration of which the temple had been erected--all surrounded
by wreaths of flowers interwoven with delicate border patterns;--had
been partly executed by the Shastree himself, and partly by Tara, who
followed his tastes and accomplishments after a pretty fashion. Thus
decorated, the dais had a cheerful effect in the room: and choice and
intimate friends only were admitted to the privilege of sitting upon it.
The house itself was perhaps in no degree remarkable. Outside, facing
the street, was a high wall, with a large door within a projecting
porch or archway, which had a seat on either hand as you entered. The
door-frame was richly carved, and on each side a horse's head projected
from the upper corner. Above the door, in a space left for the purpose,
was written in red Sanscrit letters, "Sree Martund Prussunn," "The holy
Martund protects;" and Martund was one of the appellations of Siva.
This legend was surrounded by wreaths of flowers in the same colour;
and across the whole was a garland of mango leaves now withered, which
had hung there since the last festival.
As you entered the court, the principal room was before you, on the
basement of the house, which you ascended by three steps. It was a wide
open verandah, extending the width of the court, supported upon seven
wooden pillars, also richly carved, on which crossed square capitals
were fixed, and from these, beams were laid to form the roof. This
verandah was double; the inner portion being raised a step above the
other to form a dais, and at each end of the inner portion were two
small rooms in the corners, one of which was the Shastree's library.
The whole of these verandahs could be shut in closely by heavy curtains
of quilted cotton, neatly ornamented by devices of birds and flowers,
which hung between the pillars; but usually all was open, or closed
only by transparent blinds of split cane suspended outside.
Having a northern aspect, this room was always cool, and was the
ordinary resort of the Shastree. Here he received his friends and
neighbours, held disputations, and instructed his pupils. The women
seldom entered it except in the evenings when undisturbed; for, though
unsecluded from men, a certain degree of reserve and retirement is
always observable in the women of Hindu families. There was no ornament
about the main apartment except the Shastree's dais, and the borders
painted about the niches and architraves of the doors; but it was kept
a pure white, and was scrupulously clean.
In the centre of the back wall of the inner verandah was a door which
opened into a second court, round which was a verandah also open, and,
leading from it on three sides, sleeping chambers and a bath-room. In
this verandah there was nothing but a few spinning-wheels and their
low stools; for Anunda Bye had no idea of allowing women-servants to
be idle, and when they were not working otherwise, they were spinning
cotton yarn for their own clothes. Anunda herself had her wheel, and
Tara hers, and sometimes they spun yarn fine enough for the Shastree's
waist-cloths.
On the fourth side of the court was the kitchen, and, passing by it, a
door led into a third court, more private, though not so large as the
second. In the centre of it was an altar painted in distemper, on which
grew a bush of toolsee or sweet basil, grateful to the gods; and in the
verandah, another altar, similar in form, on which burned the sacred
fire never extinguished. Close to it was the door of the private temple
of the house, which contained the household gods of the family. Here it
was that Tara best loved to sit when her share of domestic affairs was
completed. Here she tended the sacred fire, and offered worship, such
as a woman could perform, in the temple. She had a small garden in one
corner of the court, which contained a few jessamine bushes, marigolds,
and other common flowers, which she cultivated for offerings to the
household gods in the daily worship. Here she could study undisturbed,
and did so with all her heart--here, too, it was that her mother found
her.
There was no decoration about the house, except, as we have already
mentioned, border patterns and quaintly designed birds and flowers upon
the walls. Furniture, such as we need, was unknown. A small cotton or
woollen carpet laid down here and there, with a heavy cotton pillow
covered with white calico, sufficed for sitting or reclining; and as
the goddess Bhowani, in her incarnation at Tooljapoor, does not choose,
as is believed, that any one in the town should lie upon a bed except
herself, a cotton mattress on the floor, or a cool mat, sufficed for
sleeping.
The house, therefore, would have appeared bare in any of my readers'
eyes; but it was neat and pleasant to look at: and one can imagine,
though decorated in a higher style of art, the Roman houses at Pompeii
to have been similar in most respects of plan and domestic arrangement.
There was no evidence of wealth, yet the Shastree was a prosperous
man; and could you have seen Anunda Bye's stores of copper and
brass utensils--large vessels for boiling vast quantities of rice on
festivals and household ceremonies--her brass lamps and candelabra,
her silver plates for eating from, and silver drinking vessels;--could
you have seen the contents of her private room, in which were sundry
large chests, full of sarees, or women's garments, of great value;
some heir-looms, woven with gold and silver thread, each having its
peculiar history; the shawls which belonged to her husband, the gifts
of princes and nobles, tributes to his learning, of which she was very
proud;--could you have seen, too, the strong box that lay hidden among
the clothes in the largest chest, full of family jewels and ornaments,
among which were two necklaces of fine pearls, massive gold ornaments
for ankles and wrists, for neck and ears;--could you have seen all
these, and the heavy gold cinctures round Anunda's and Tara's trim
waists, and their massive gold bracelets and anklets,--you would have
been envious, my dear reader, of considerable wealth in this particular.
Otherwise, indeed, the Shastree was a man of substance. Being an only
son, with no other sharers, at his father's death, he had inherited
a considerable property. He had himself earned, by his scholarly
abilities, a small estate in a neighbouring province, the rent of which
was punctually paid, and was improving, for he was a good landlord.
He derived a handsome income from the temple service, and from the
offerings made to him as head of the establishment. He farmed some
land, too, near the town, on the bank of the small river Bóree, and
had an excellent garden near the village of Sindphul, in the plain
below the hills, the daily supply of vegetables from which was very
profitable from the large and constant consumption in the town.
Finally, as one of the most learned Sanscrit scholars of the Dekhan,
his instruction was held in deserved repute, and his classes were
attended by young Brahmuns from all parts of the country, from whom he
received fees according to their means.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] For explanation of Oriental words, see Glossary.