THE POPULATION OF PANJIM.
The black Christians, like the whites, may be subdivided into two orders;
first, the converted Hindoos; secondly, the mixed breed of European and
Indian blood. Moreover, these latter have another distinction, being
either Brahman Christians, as they ridiculously term themselves, on
account of their descent from the Hindoo pontifical caste, or common
ones. The only perceptible difference between them is, we believe, a
moral one; the former are justly renowned for extraordinary deceitfulness
and treachery. They consider themselves superior to the latter in point
of dignity, and anciently enjoyed some peculiar privileges, such as the
right of belonging to the orders of the _Theatins_, or regular clerks,
and Saint Philip Nerius.[36] But in manners, appearance, customs, and
education, they exactly resemble the mass of the community.
The Mestici, or mixed breed, composes the great mass of society at Goa;
it includes all classes, from the cook to the government official. In
1835 one of them rose to the highest post of dignity, but his political
career was curt and remarkably unsuccessful. Some half-castes travel in
Europe, a great many migrate to Bombay for service and commerce, but the
major part stays at Goa to stock professions, and support the honour of
the family. It would be, we believe, difficult to find in Asia an uglier
or more degraded looking race than that which we are now describing.
The forehead is low and flat, the eyes small, quick, and restless;
there is a mixture of sensuality and cunning about the region of the
mouth, and a development of the lower part of the face which are truly
unprepossessing, not to say revolting. Their figures are short and small,
with concave chests, the usual calfless Indian leg, and a remarkable want
of muscularity. In personal attractions the fair sex is little superior
to the other. During the whole period of our stay at Goa we scarcely
ever saw a pretty half-caste girl. At the same time we must confess that
it is difficult to pronounce judgment upon this point, as women of good
mixed family do not appear before casual visitors. And this is of course
deemed a sign of superior modesty and chastity, for the black Christians,
Asiatically enough, believe it impossible for a female to converse
with a strange man and yet be virtuous. The dark ladies affect the old
Portuguese costume, described in the preceding chapter; a few of the
wealthiest dress like Europeans. Their education is purposely neglected—a
little reading of their vernacular tongue, with the Ave and other prayers
in general use, dancing, embroidery, and making sweetmeats,[37] are
considered _satis superque_ in the way of accomplishments. Of late years,
a girls’ school has been established by order of government at Panjim,
but a single place of the kind is scarcely likely to affect the mass of
the community. The life led by the fair sex at Goa must be, one would
think, a dull one. Domestic occupations, smoking, a little visiting, and
going to church, especially on the _ferie_, or festivals, lying in bed,
sitting _en deshabille_, riding about in a mancheel, and an occasional
dance—such are the blunt weapons with which they attack Time. They marry
early, begin to have a family probably at thirteen, are old women at
twenty-two, and decrepit at thirty-five. Like Indians generally, they
appear to be defective in amativeness, abundant in philoprogenitiveness,
and therefore not much addicted to intrigues. At the same time we must
record the fact, that the present archbishop has been obliged to issue
an order forbidding nocturnal processions, which, as they were always
crowded with lady devotees, gave rise to certain obstinate scandals.
The mongrel men dress as Europeans, but the quantity of clothing
diminishes with the wearer’s rank. Some of the lower orders, especially
in the country, affect a full-dress costume, consisting _in toto_, of
a cloth jacket and black silk knee breeches. Even the highest almost
always wear coloured clothes, as, by so doing, the washerman is less
required. They are intolerably dirty and disagreeable:—verily cleanliness
ought to be made an article of faith in the East. They are fond of
spirituous liquors, and seldom drink, except honestly for the purpose
of intoxication. As regards living, they follow the example of their
white fellow-subjects in all points, except that they eat more rice
and less meat. Their characters may be briefly described as passionate
and cowardly, jealous and revengeful, with more of the vices than the
virtues belonging to the two races from which they are descended. In
early youth, especially before arriving at years of puberty, they evince
a remarkable acuteness of mind, and facility in acquiring knowledge.
They are equally quick at learning languages, and the lower branches of
mathematical study, but they seem unable to obtain any results from their
acquirements. Goa cannot boast of ever having produced a single eminent
literato, or even a second-rate poet. To sum up in a few words, the
mental and bodily development of this class are remarkable only as being
a strange _mélange_ of European and Asiatic peculiarities, of antiquated
civilization and modern barbarism.
We before alluded to the deep-rooted antipathy between the black and
the white population: the feeling of the former towards an Englishman
is one of dislike not unmingled with fear. Should Portugal ever doom
her now worse than useless colony to form part payment of her debts,
their fate would be rather a hard one. Considering the wide spread of
perhaps too liberal opinions concerning the race quaintly designated as
“God’s images carved in ebony,” they might fare respectably as regards
public estimation, but scarcely well enough to satisfy their inordinate
ambition. It is sufficiently amusing to hear a young gentleman, whose
appearance, manners, and colour fit him admirably to become a band-boy to
some Sepoy corps, talk of visiting Bombay, with letters of introduction
to the Governor and Commander-in-chief. Still more diverting it is when
you know that the same character would invariably deduct a perquisite
from the rent of any house he may have procured, or boat hired for a
stranger. Yet at the same time it is hard for a man who speaks a little
English, French, Latin, and Portuguese to become the lower clerk of
some office on the paltry pay of 70_l._ per annum; nor is it agreeable
for an individual who has just finished his course of mathematics,
medicine, and philosophy to sink into the lowly position of an assistant
apothecary in the hospital of a native regiment. No wonder that the black
Indo-Portuguese is an utter radical; he has gained much by Constitution,
the “dwarfish demon” which sets everybody by the ears at Goa. Hence it is
that he will take the first opportunity in conversation with a foreigner
to extol Lusitanian liberty to the skies, abuse English tyranny over,
and insolence to, their unhappy Indian subjects, and descant delightedly
upon the probability of an immediate crash in our Eastern empire. And,
as might be expected, although poverty sends forth thousands of black
Portuguese to earn money in foreign lands, they prefer the smallest
competence at home, where equality allows them to indulge in a favourite
independence of manner utterly at variance with our Anglo-Indian notions
concerning the proper demeanour of a native towards a European.
The native Christian is originally a converted Hindoo, usually of the
lowest castes;[38] and though he has changed for centuries his manners,
dress, and religion, he retains to a wonderful extent the ideas,
prejudices, and superstitions of his ancient state. The learned _griff_,
Bishop Heber, in theorizing upon the probable complexion of our First
Father, makes a remark about these people, so curiously erroneous, that
it deserves to be mentioned. “The Portuguese have, during a three hundred
years’ residence in India, become as black as Caffres; surely this goes
far to disprove the assertion which is sometimes made, that climate
alone is insufficient to account for the difference between the Negro
and the European.” Climate in this case had nothing whatever to do with
the change of colour. And if it had, we might instance as an argument
against the universality of such atmospheric action, the Parsee, who,
though he has been settled in the tropical lands of India for more than
double three hundred years, is still, in appearance, complexion, voice,
and manners, as complete an Iranian as when he first fled from his native
mountains. But this is _par parenthèse_.
The native Christians of Goa always shave the head; they cultivate an
apology for a whisker, but never allow the beard or mustachios to grow.
Their dress is scanty in the extreme, often consisting only of a dirty
rag, worn about the waist, and their ornaments, a string of beads round
the neck. The women are equally badly clothed: the single long piece of
cotton, called in India a saree, is their whole attire,[39] consequently
the bosom is unsupported and uncovered. This race is decidedly the lowest
in the scale of civilized humanity we have yet seen. In appearance they
are short, heavy, meagre, and very dark; their features are uncomely
in the extreme; they are dirtier than Pariahs, and abound in cutaneous
diseases. They live principally on fish and rice, with pork and fruit
when they can afford such luxuries. Meat as well as bread[40] is holiday
diet; clarified butter, rice, water, curry, and cocoa-nut milk are
every-day food.
These people are said to be short lived, the result of hard labour,
early marriages, and innutritious food. We scarcely ever saw a man
that looked fifty. In disposition they resemble the half-castes, but
they are even more deficient in spirit, and quarrelsome withal, than
their “whitey-brown” brethren. All their knowledge is religious, and
consists only of a few prayers in corrupt Maharatta, taught them by their
parents or the priest; these they carefully repeat three times _per
diem_—at dawn, in the afternoon, and before retiring to rest. Loudness
of voice and a very Puritanical snuffle being _sine quâ nons_ in their
devotional exercises, the neighbourhood of a pious family is anything
but pleasant. Their superiority to the heathen around them consists in
eating pork, drinking toddy to excess, shaving the face, never washing,
and a conviction that they are going to paradise, whereas all other
religionists are emphatically not. They are employed as sepoys, porters,
fishermen, seamen, labourers, mancheel bearers, workmen and servants, and
their improvident indolence renders the necessity of hard labour at times
imperative. The carpenters, farriers, and other trades, not only ask an
exorbitant sum for working, but also, instead of waiting on the employer,
scarcely ever fail to keep him waiting for them. For instance, on Monday
you wanted a farrier, and sent for him. He politely replied that he was
occupied at that moment, but would call at his earliest convenience.
This, if you keep up a running fire of messages, will probably be about
the next Saturday.
The visitor will not find at Goa that number and variety of heathen
castes which bewilder his mind at Bombay. The capital of Portuguese India
now stands so low amongst the cities of Asia that few or no inducements
are offered to the merchant and the trader, who formerly crowded her
ports. The Turk, the Arab, and the Persian have left them for a wealthier
mart, and the only strangers are a few Englishmen, who pass through the
place to visit its monuments of antiquity.
The Moslem population at Panjim scarcely amounts to a thousand. They
have no place of worship, although their religion is now, like all
others, tolerated.[41] The distinctive mark of the Faithful is the long
beard. They appear superior beings by the side of the degenerate native
Christians.
Next to the Christians, the Hindoos are the most numerous portion
of the community. They are held in the highest possible esteem and
consideration, and no office unconnected with religion is closed to
them. This fact may account for the admirable ease and freedom of
manner prevalent amongst them. The Gentoo will enter your room with his
slippers on, sit down after shaking hands as if the action were a matter
of course, chew his betel, and squirt the scarlet juice all over the
floor, in a word, make himself as offensive as you can conceive. But at
Goa all men are equal. Moreover, the heathens may be seen in Christian
churches,[42] with covered feet, pointing at, putting questions
concerning, and criticising the images with the same quite-at-home
_nonchalance_ with which they would wander through the porticoes of
Dwarka or the pagodas of Aboo. And these men’s fathers, in the good old
times of Goa, were not allowed even to burn their dead[43] in the land!
In appearance the Hindoos are of a fair, or rather a light yellow
complexion. Some of the women are by no means deficient in personal
charms, and the men generally surpass in size and strength the present
descendants of the Portuguese heroes. They wear the mustachio, but not
the beard, and dress in the long cotton coat, with the cloth wound round
the waist, very much the same as in Bombay. The head, however, is usually
covered with a small red velvet skullcap, instead of a turban. The
female attire is the saree, with the long-armed bodice beneath it; their
ornaments are numerous; and their caste is denoted by a round spot of
kunkun, or vermilion, upon the forehead between the eyebrows.
As usual among Hindoos, the pagans at Goa are divided into a number
of sub-castes. In the Brahman we find two great subdivisions, the
Sashteekar, or inhabitants of Salsette, and the Bardeskar, or people of
Bardes. The former is confessedly superior to the latter. Both families
will eat together, but they do not intermarry. Besides these two, there
are a few of the Chitpawan, Sinart, Kararee and Waishnau castes of the
pontifical order.
The Brahmans always wear the tika, or sectarian mark, perpendicularly,
to distinguish them from the Sonars, or Goldsmiths, who place it
horizontally on the forehead. They are but superficially educated, as
few of them know Sanscrit, and these few not well. All read and write
Maharatta fluently, but they speak the inharmonious Concanee dialect.
Next to the Brahmans, and resembling them in personal appearance, are
the Banyans, or traders. They seem to be a very thriving portion of the
population, and live in great comfort, if not luxury.
The Shudra, or servile class of Hindoos, is, of course, by far the most
numerous; it contains many varieties, such as Bhandan (toddy-makers),
Koonbee (potters), Hajjam (barbers), &c.
Of mixed castes we find the goldsmith, who is descended from a Brahman
father and servile mother, and the Kunchanee, or Εταιρη, whose maternal
parent is always a Maharatta woman, whatever the other progenitor may
chance to be. The outcasts are principally Chamars, or tanners, and
Parwars (Pariahs).
These Hindoos very rarely become Christians, now that fire and steel, the
dungeon and the rack, the rice-pot and the rupee, are not allowed to play
the persuasive part in the good work formerly assigned to them. Indeed,
we think that conversion of the heathen is almost more common in British
than in Portuguese India, the natural result of our being able to pay the
proselytes more liberally. When such an event does occur at Goa, it is
celebrated at a church in the north side of the creek, opposite Panjim,
with all the pomp and ceremony due to the importance of spoiling a good
Gentoo by making a bad Christian of him.
We were amused to witness on one occasion a proof of the high importance
attached to Hindoo opinion in this part of the world. Outside the church
of St. Agnes, in a little chapel, stood one of the lowest orders of black
priests, lecturing a host of naked, squatting, smoking, and chattering
auditors. Curiosity induced us to venture nearer, and we then discovered
that the theme was a rather imaginative account of the birth and life
of the Redeemer. Presently a group of loitering Gentoos, who had been
strolling about the church, came up and stood by our side.
The effect of their appearance upon his Reverence’s discourse was
remarkable, as may be judged from the peroration, which was very much in
these words:—
“You must remember, sons, that the _avatár_, or incarnation of your
blessed Lord, was in the form of a rajah, who ruled millions of men. He
was truly great and powerful; he rode the largest elephant ever trapped;
he smoked a hookah of gold, and when he went to war he led an army the
like of which for courage, numbers, and weapons was never seen before. He
would have conquered the whole world, from Portugal to China, had he not
been restrained by humility. But, on the last day, when he shall appear
even in greater state than before, he will lead us his people to most
glorious and universal victory.”
* * * * *
When the sermon concluded, and the listeners had wandered away in
different directions, we walked up to his Reverence and asked him if he
had ever read the Gospel.
“Of course.”
“Then where did you find the historical picture you so graphically drew
just now about the rajahship?”
“Where?” said the fellow, grinning and pointing to his forehead: “here,
to be sure. Didn’t you see those Gentoos standing by and listening to
every word I was saying? A pretty thing it would have been to see the
pagans laughing and sneering at us Christians because the Founder of our
Blessed Faith was the son of a Burhaee.”[44]
Such reasoning was conclusive.
If our memory serve us aright, there is a story somewhat like the
preceding in the pages of the Abbé Dubois. Such things we presume must
constantly be taking place in different parts of India. On one occasion
we saw an unmistakable Lakhshmi[45] borne in procession amongst Christian
images, and, if history be trusted, formerly it was common to carry as
many Hindoo deities as European saints in the palanquins. On the other
hand, many a Gentoo has worn a crucifix for years, with firm faith in
the religious efficacy of the act, yet utterly ignorant of the nature of
the symbol he was bearing, and we have ourselves written many and many a
charm for ladies desirous of becoming prolific, or matrons fearful of
the evil eye being cast upon their offspring.
* * * * *
On our return from old Goa to Panjim we visited an establishment, which
may be considered rather a peculiar one. It is called the Caza de
Misericordia, and contains some forty or fifty young ladies, for the most
part orphans, of all colours, classes, and ages. They are educated by
nuns, under the direction of a superior and a committee, and when grown
up, remain in the house till they receive and accept suitable offers of
marriage.
Hearing that it was not unusual to propose oneself as a suitor; with a
view of inspecting the curiosities of the establishment, we repaired to
the Caza, and were politely received by the old lady at the gate. After
showing us over the chapel and other public portions of the edifice,
she perceived that we had some other object, and presently discovered
that we were desirous of playing the part of Cœlebs in search of a
wife. Thereupon she referred us to another and more dignified relic
of antiquity, who, after a long and narrow look at our outward man,
proceeded to catechise us in the following manner.
“You say, señor, that you want a wife; what may be your name?”
“Peter Smith.”
“Your religion?”
“The Christian, señora.”
“Your profession?”
“An ensign in H. E. I. Company’s Navy.”
Not satisfied with such authentic details, the inquisitive old lady began
a regular system of cross-questioning, and so diligently did she pursue
it, that we had some difficulty to prevent contradicting ourselves. At
length, when she had, as she supposed, thoroughly mastered the subject,
she requested us to step into a corridor, and to dispose of ourselves
upon a three-legged stool. This we did, leaning gracefully against the
whitewashed wall, and looking stedfastly at the open grating. Presently,
a wrinkled old countenance, with a skin more like a walnut’s than a
woman’s, peered through the bars, grinned at us, and disappeared. Then
came half-a-dozen juveniles, at the very least, tittering and whispering
most diligently, all of which we endured with stoical firmness, feeling
that the end of such things was approaching.
At last, a sixteen-year old face gradually drew within sight from behind
the bars. That was clearly one of the young ladies. Now for it.—
“Good day, and my respects to you, senorita!”
“The same to you, sir.”
Hem! It is rather a terrible thing to make love under such circumstances.
The draw upon one’s imagination in order to open the dialogue, is alone
sufficient to frighten Cupid out of the field. It was impossible to talk
of the weather, in that country where it burns, deluges, and chills with
the regularity of clock-work. So we plunged at once _in medias res_.
“Should you like to be married, senorita?”
“Yes, very much, señor.”
“And why, if you would satisfy my curiosity?”
“I don’t know.”
Equally unsatisfactory was the rest of the conversation. So we bowed
politely, rose from our three-legged stool, and determined to seek an
interview with the Superior. Our request was at last granted, and we
found a personage admirably adapted, in point of appearance, to play
dragon over the treasures committed to her charge. She had a face which
reminded us exactly of a white horse, a body answerable, and manners
decidedly repulsive. However, she did not spare her tongue. She
informed us that there were twelve marriageable young ladies then in the
establishment, named them, and minutely described their birth, parentage,
education, mental and physiological development. She also informed us
that they would receive a dowry from the funds of the house, which, on
further inquiry, proved to be the sum of ten pounds.
At length we thought there was an opportunity to put in a few words about
our grievance—how we had been placed on a three-legged stool before a
grating—exposed to the inquisitiveness of the seniors, and subjected to
the ridicule of the junior part of the community. We concluded with a
modest hint that we should like to be admitted within, and be allowed a
little conversation with the twelve marriageable young ladies to whom she
had alluded.
The old lady suddenly became majestic.
“Before you are admitted to such a privilege, señor, you must be kind
enough to address an official letter to the mesa, or board, explaining
your intentions, and requesting the desired permission. We are people
under government, and do not keep a naughty house. Do you understand me,
señor?”
“Perfectly, madam.”
Upon which we arose, scraped the ground thrice, with all the
laboriousness of Indo-Portuguese politeness, promised compliance in our
best phraseology, and rapidly disappeared, resolving never to near the
Caza de Misericordia again.