Return to Manipur—Mr. Heath’s grave—Old Moonia—A quarrel and
fight between Moonia and the Chupprassie’s wife—Dignity of the
Chupprassies—The Senaputti gets up sports—Manipuri greetings
and sports.
It was strange finding myself back in Manipur after nearly nine months’
absence; but though the house had had several improvements made to it,
and the grounds were prettier than when we had left in February, I could
not settle down in the place as I had done before. Poor Mr. Heath was
buried in our own garden, quite close to the house—so close, in fact,
that I could see his grave from my bedroom window. There had been two
graves there before—one was Major Trotter’s, who was once political
agent at Manipur, and died there from wounds which he had received
fighting in Burmah; the other was that of a young Lieutenant Beavor, who
had also died at the Residency, of fever. But we had never known either
of these two men, so that I did not look upon them in the same light as
I did on Mr. Heath, and his sudden, sad death seemed to haunt me. Once a
friend of mine remarked to my husband, ‘What an unlucky place Manipur is!
I have seen so many political agents go up there, and something always
seems to happen to them.’ Hearing this gave me a cold shudder, and I
longed to get my husband to give up a place so associated with gloomy
incidents, and take some other district in the province. Not that I was
ever really afraid of anything tangible.
[Illustration: THE GARDENS OF THE RESIDENCY AT MANIPUR.]
I rode alone all over the country, fearing nothing from the inhabitants,
who knew me, and would have been only too ready to help me had I needed
aid; and I have been left for days together quite alone at the Residency
while my husband had to be out in camp. Once he had to go down to Tammu
in Burmah, five days’ journey from Manipur, and I was too ill to go with
him, so stayed behind.
For sixteen days I was there all alone. We had no neighbours nearer than
a hundred miles off, and I never even heard English spoken until my
husband returned. The old ayah used to sleep on my doormat at night, and
I always had sentries outside the house, back and front. I used to hear,
or imagine I heard, all kinds of noises sometimes, and get up, waking the
old woman from her noisy slumbers to come and do a midnight parade all
round the house, searching in every nook and corner for the disturber of
my rest, which was probably nothing more harmful than an antiquated bat
roaming about in the roof, or a rat in the cellars beneath the house. The
poor old ayah used to pretend to be very valiant on these occasions and
carefully hunt in every dark corner which I had already turned out; but
she was always glad to get back when the search was ended to her own
venerable blanket, in which she used to roll her attenuated form, and
snore away the long vigils of the nights.
Poor old Moonia! she was a faithful old soul, and has tramped many a
mile after me in my wanderings backwards and forwards. She was a lazy
old woman, but if I told her so, she gave me warning on the spot. She
did this very frequently—on an average, six times a month; but after a
little I got accustomed to it—in fact, I may say I got rather to like
it—and I never by any chance reminded her of her promised flitting, or
took any notice of the warning when she gave it to me. She was a very
quarrelsome old creature, and had some very bitter enemies. First and
above all she detested the head bearer. She hated him with a deep and
deadly hatred, and if she could do him a bad turn she would do it, even
though it caused her much fatigue, bodily and mental, to accomplish it.
Next to the bearer she disliked the wife of one of the Chupprassies.
This female was a powerfully-built Naga woman, with a very good opinion
of herself; and she returned the ayah’s dislike most fully. They were
always at war, and on one occasion they had a stand-up fight. We had
gone out into camp, and as Moonia (the ayah) had not been well, I left
her at home instead of taking her with me, as I generally did. Two days
after we had started, a report reached us that she had had a terrible
fight with the Chupprassie’s wife, and the latter had injured her very
seriously. We heard nothing more about it at that time, so I imagined
that the ayah’s wounds were healing, and that I should not be informed
as to details at all. Not so, however. We returned to the Residency a
fortnight later, and I sent for my abigail as usual, receiving in return
a message saying that she could not come, as she was still dangerously
ill. Having, however, insisted on her appearing, she came—very slowly,
and with her head so enveloped in coverings that I could not see even the
tip of her nose. Groans issued forth at intervals, and she subsided on
to the floor directly she entered the room. After a little parleying, I
persuaded her to undo her various blankets, and show me the extent of her
injuries. They were not serious, and the only real wound was one on the
top of her head, which certainly was rather a deep cut. However, I soon
impressed upon her that I did not think she was as near death’s door as
she evidently imagined, and let her return to her own apartments, vowing
vengeance on her adversary.
Moonia presented a petition soon afterwards, and my husband had to try
the case, which he proceeded to do in the veranda of the Residency.
The evidence was very conflicting. All the complainant’s witnesses
bore testimony against her, and _vice-versâ_; and the language of the
principal parties concerned was very voluble and abusive. The ayah made
a great sensation, however, by producing the log of wood she had been
beaten with, covered with hair and blood, and the clothes she had worn
at the time, in a similar gory condition. The hair in the stick was very
cleverly arranged. Where it had originally come from was not easy to
define; but it was stuck in bunches the whole length of the stick, and
must have been a work of time and ingenuity. However, there were many
exclamations of commiseration for the complainant, and eventually the
defendant was fined one rupee, and bound over to keep the peace.
Then ensued a funny scene. The ayah argued that the fine imposed was not
heavy enough, and the adversary threatened her with more violence as soon
as she should leave the presence of the Sahib; and they swore gaily at
each other, as only two native women know how to swear, and had to be
conveyed from the court in different directions by a small guard of the
43rd Ghoorkas, who were mightily amused at the whole business. I thought
at the time that should the Chupprassie’s wife ever get an opportunity of
wreaking vengeance on the ayah, she was just the sort of woman to make
that revenge a deep one; and I pitied the ayah if she ever fell into her
hands. The day did come before very long; but of that I shall speak later
on.
Our Chupprassies were very useful, but very lazy, and puffed up with
pride in their own loveliness. Their red coats with the ‘V.R.’ buttons,
covered with gold braid, lent them much dignity; and there were many
little offices which they absolutely refused to perform because they
wore the Queen’s livery, and considered themselves too important. For
instance, I requested four of them once to go into the garden and catch
grasshoppers out of the long grass with which to feed a cage full
of little birds. One of the four alone condescended to go; the rest
solemnly refused, saying that they could not demean themselves by such a
performance, and that I must get the Naga boys out of the village to do
it for them. And I had to give in to them ignominiously.
These ten Chupprassies were all supposed to be interpreters of some kind
or another; but for the most part they could speak no other dialect but
their own, whatever that happened to be, and had no idea of translating
it into any other tongue.
Altogether, they were decidedly more ornamental than useful. Two of them
rode extremely well, and they acted as my jockeys in some pony-races
which the Senaputti got up one Christmas Day, amongst other sports, for
the amusement of our Sepoys and his own.
The Senaputti had got the idea of this Gymkhana from having seen the
44th Ghoorka sports on one occasion at Langthabal, when that regiment
was stationed there, and besides the ordinary races and competitions the
Manipuris had some which I have never seen anywhere else. One feat they
performed was to lay a man on the top of six bayonets. The bayonets were
fixed to the rifles, and the latter were then driven into the ground
like stakes with the points upwards. A man then lay down flat on the
ground and made himself as stiff as possible, when he was lifted up by
four other men, and laid along the tops of the bayonets. Had he moved
they must have gone into him, and we never knew how the performance was
managed, or whether they fixed anything on the points of the bayonets to
prevent their piercing his flesh; but it did not look a nice trick at
all, and one always dreaded an accident. There was wrestling, too, in
which the princes took part, and foot races, and the Senaputti gave the
prizes, mostly in money. And to wind up there was a play. The Maharajah
had three jesters, exactly like the old English fashion of having
court-jesters to amuse royalty.
The Manipuri specimens were very funny indeed. Their heads were shaved
like the back of a poodle, with little tufts of hair left here and there;
and their faces were painted with streaks of different-coloured paints,
and their eyebrows whitened. They wore very few clothes, but what they
had were striped red and green and a variety of shades. They walked up to
the tent where we were sitting to watch the sports, all leaning against
each other, and carrying on a lively conversation in Manipuri, which
seemed to amuse the spectators very much. On reaching the door of the
tent they all fell down at our feet, making terrible grimaces by way of
greeting, and then they picked each other up and retired a few yards off
and commenced the performance. One disguised himself as an old woman, and
another as a native doctor, and the third as a sick man, lying on the
ground covered with a white sheet. Someone out of the crowd was impressed
into the play, and he had to call the doctor to the sick man, who was
meanwhile heaving up and down upon the ground in a very extraordinary
manner. The doctor came and poked him about, making observations in
Manipuri, at which everyone roared with laughter; and then the old woman
arrived and dragged the doctor off home. She was supposed to be his wife,
and as soon as she appeared a scuffle ensued, in which the old woman’s
clothes fell off. We thought best to beat a retreat, as the play was
beginning to be rowdy and the dialogue vulgar; but I believe that it went
on for some hours afterwards, as we heard shouts of laughter proceeding
from the direction of the polo-ground, where the sports were held, late
at night; and the princes told us the next day that it had been a very
good play, and the only pity was that we had witnessed so little of it.