We passed the village of Ulwal, its white pagoda peeping from among
groves of tamarind and mango trees, and its large tank now glistening
in the rays of the sun; and pursuing our way, we saw, on passing a
ridge of rocks, the camp of the army at the far-famed Hoossain Sagor,
or, as it is more often called, Secunderabad. The tents of the English
force glittered in the bright sun, and behind them lay a vast sheet
of blue water. We had heard much of this lake from many persons on
our journey, and as we passed it a strong breeze had arisen, and the
surface was curled into a thousand waves, whose white crests as they
broke sparkled like diamonds, and threw their spray into our faces
as they dashed against the stonework of the embankment. We stood a
long time gazing upon the beautiful prospect, so new to us all, and
wondering whether the sea, of which we had heard so much, could be
anything like what was before us. I have since then, Sahib, twice seen
the sea; I need not attempt to describe it, for you have sailed over
it; but when I saw it first, methought I could have fallen down and
worshiped it, it appeared so illimitable, its edge touching as it were
the heavens, and spread out into an expanse which the utmost stretch of
my imagination could not compass,--a fit type, I thought, of the God
of all people, whom every one thinks on, while the hoarse roar of the
waves as they rolled on, mountain after mountain, and broke in angry
fury against the shore, seemed to be a voice of Omnipotence which could
not fail to awaken emotions of awe and dread in the most callous and
unobservant!
We passed the embankment of the tank. As yet we had seen nothing of
the city; but there was a ridge not far off, and as we ascended it I
could no longer control my impatience. I spurred my horse, and before I
reached the top shut my eyes, that whatever was before me might burst
upon my view at once. My horse slackened his pace when he reached
the top, and allowing him to go on a few steps I opened my eyes, and
glorious indeed was the prospect before me. Beneath lay Hyderabad, the
object of many a conjecture, of many an ardent desire to reach it--the
first city of the Dukhun, justly celebrated throughout the countries
I had passed. I had imagined it, like every other I had seen, to be
in the midst of a plain, and that all that would be visible of it
would be here and there a minaret rising out of large groves of trees:
but Hyderabad presented a different aspect. I stood on the crest of
a gentle slope, which to my right hand was broken at some distance
by rude, rocky hills, and to the left appeared gradually to descend
into a plain, which stretched away almost uninterruptedly to the
horizon. Before me, on the gentle rise of the valley, and beyond where
I supposed the river to be, lay the city, its white terraced houses
gleaming brightly in the sunlight from amidst what seemed to me at the
distance almost a forest of trees. The Char Minar and Mecca Musjid rose
proudly from the masses of buildings by which they were surrounded; and
here and there a white dome, with its bright gilt spire, marked the
tomb of some favourite or holy saint, while smaller mosques, I might
say in hundreds, were known by their slender white minarets.
Beyond the city rose another connected chain of rocky hills, which ran
along until they met those on the right hand, and shut in the valley
on that side. The city seemed to be of immense extent; but I thought
from the number of trees that it was composed principally of gardens
and inclosures, and was much surprised afterwards, when I entered it,
to find its streets so filled with houses, and the whole so thickly
peopled. It was altogether a most lovely scene: the freshness of the
morning, the pureness of the air, and the glittering effect of the city
and its buildings caused an impression which can never be effaced from
my memory. I have seen it since, and though it is ever truly beautiful,
it never struck me as it did that day. But I was then young, full of
spirits, and flushed with the consciousness of my own powers, just
developing, and assuring me that they would lead me to eminence.
One by one, as the Thugs came up, each ejaculated his praise of the
beautiful scene, and all declared that the capital was worthy of the
encomiums they had heard lavished on it. Inquiring the nearest road
to the karwan, we descended the slope, and threading our way through
numberless suburbs we reached the place, and were at the end of our
journey. We were grateful for it, and for the protection and success
we had met with. We took up our abode for the present in a serai
which surrounded a large and richly ornamented mosque; and for our
greater convenience I went in search of an untenanted house, and after
some difficulty succeeded in hiring a small place, the property of a
merchant who resided next door. It contained only three rooms, and
the verandah, which was the shop; but it was enough for my father and
myself, and there was a small room with a strong door, in which we
stowed away all our plunder. Zora was overjoyed at reaching the place
of her birth, and what was in reality her home, and could talk of
nothing but the delight of meeting with her relatives and friends, and
the surprise her arrival would excite in them all, as she said they
had considered her lost to them ever since the Nuwab had carried her
off. The almost certainty of her being separated from me as soon as she
was again in their power never occurred to her, and I determined that
before she visited them I would lay all my fears before her, convinced
that her affection for me would be the best guide for her conduct.
Our landlord the merchant was very civil and attentive to our wants,
though his civility evidently proceeded in a great measure from
curiosity as to who we were and what was our object. I stated to him in
a few words our old story--of my father being a merchant, and myself a
soldier of fortune who had accompanied him in search of employment. He
was now curious to know of what my father's stock in trade consisted;
but we were resolutely silent upon the subject, although he offered his
agency to dispose of our goods. "For," said my father to me afterwards,
"our goods I know are valuable, and I know not their worth; nor have we
as yet opened the bales; we will do so to-morrow morning, and assort
them: we will then go into the city to the shops of the sahoukars,
and inquire for articles similar to them, find out their prices, and
by this means be enabled to value our own. Were we to offer them in
ignorance of their market prices, we might be suspected; and though we
may not get what they are intrinsically worth, we shall no doubt be
able to sell the whole for a handsome sum."
I agreed with him perfectly, and the next morning we set to work to
open the bales. Their contents were indeed costly,--brocades, cloth of
gold, fine muslin scarfs, also woven with gold and silver patterns,
plain muslins, and a few shawls, besides fine cloths of different
kinds for wearing-apparel, and sarees with silk and tissue borders,
the latter from the looms of Nagpoor. These and the jewels in our
possession, when laid out and assorted, made a display on which we
feasted our eyes for some time, wondering at their magnificence; and
after I had made an inventory of the whole, my father and myself,
attired in handsome clothes and mounted on the best of our horses,
attended by a few of the men, took our way into the city. Crossing over
an old but massive bridge, below which ran the river, now a shallow
stream, we entered by the gate at the head of it, and inquiring our way
went direct to the chowke, or market-place, where we trusted we should
find goods exposed for sale similar to our own. The streets were narrow
and dirty, and the interior of the city certainly did not answer the
expectations we had formed from its outside and distant appearance;
still there were evident tokens of its wealth in the numbers of
elephants, on the backs of which, in canopied umbaras, sat noblemen or
gentlemen, attended by their armed retainers. Crowds of well-dressed
persons paraded the streets, and as the festival of the Mohorum had
just commenced, cries of "Hassan! Hoosein! Doola! Deen! Deen!" and a
thousand others familiar to us resounded on every side.
We made our way as well as we could through the throng, and our
attendants were often obliged to clear us a passage, which exposed
them to the jeers and abuse of the multitude, as they were recognized
as strangers from their dress and language. Once or twice I observed a
hand laid on a sword by some respectable person who had been jostled
or pushed by our men, and heard a deep threat muttered; but we managed
to get along, and at length came to a broader street, where the crowd
was less dense; and here that noble building, the Char Minar, burst at
once upon our view. "How grand!" I exclaimed, stopping my horse and
looking up to the huge minarets, which seemed to pierce the clouds; "to
see this alone is worth a journey from Delhi." The minarets formed the
four corners of the building, and from them sprang immense arches which
supported a roof, upon the top of which a small mosque was built. It
did not look capable of supporting the immense weight of the whole, and
yet it had stood for centuries, and the fabric was unimpaired.
"It is the hour of prayer," said my father, interrupting my gaze; "and
hark! the Muezzin calls from the Mecca mosque; thither we will now
proceed, and afterwards transact our business."
I followed him, and passing by the Char Minar, we turned up a street
to our right, and stopped our horses at the gate of the mosque. A
feeling of awe mingled with admiration came over me as we entered the
court-yard and advanced along a raised causeway to the foot of a flight
of steps which led up to the interior. On either side of us were the
graves of princes and nobles, many of them of elegant forms and richly
carved; but the building itself engrossed my entire admiration. Five
lofty and wide arches opened to view the interior of the edifice, where
an equal number appeared in depth; and where the arches met, the eye
was perplexed by the innumerable points and ornaments, which, running
into each other, completed a roof of exquisite design and workmanship.
To add to its beauty, the whole was of stone, carefully smoothed,
whereas the Char Minar and the other buildings I had as yet seen were
of stucco.
But I had little time to observe more; the sonorous and melancholy call
of the Muezzin had ended, and the few attendants for the afternoon
prayer had spread their carpets and commenced their devotions. We
joined them, and, kneeling on our outspread waistbands, went through
the usual forms, while the low murmur of the prayers of all ascended
to the fretted roof and added to the solemnity of the scene. To the
majority of those present there was perhaps nothing new or uncommon;
but I, who had escaped the dangers of our journey and those attendant
on our profession, felt that it went to my heart; and, murderer as I
was, though not as yet callous, I was softened, and my tears flowed
fast as I repeated the words of prayer, and the impressive language of
the blessed Koran in which they were couched. The ceremony concluded,
we rose; and though I was well disposed to linger in the sacred edifice
and observe more of its beauties, my father hurried me away, and we
returned to the Char Minar.
"Here," said my father, "those useful rogues the dullals are to be met
with. They will try to cheat us, no doubt, as it is their trade; but
as we are not purchasers, we may avail ourselves of their aid to find
out the houses of the merchants who deal in our articles, and it may be
that the fellow we fix on will be intelligent and assist us to dispose
of our property." We stopped on reaching the building, the lower part
of which was sadly disfigured by numbers of wretched huts and stalls,
where venders of vegetables and sweetmeats sat, and served out their
goods to the passers-by. My father, calling to a decent-looking young
Hindoo, of intelligent countenance, asked him where he could meet with
a dullal, as he was a stranger in the city, and wished to see some
clothes and other goods, which he did not know where to find.
"I am one at your service, noble sir," he replied; "and I know well the
richest warehouses, and can lead you to any you wish; and," added he,
"there is not a sahoukar or dealer in the city who will not readily
give your poor servant, Moheno Das, a character for sobriety and
trustworthiness."
"You had better not say much of your good qualities till they have been
proved," said my father; "your tribe has not the best reputation on
these points."
"Ah," said the man, "my lord is well aware of what (alas that I should
say it!) the majority of our tribe are--a sad set; nevertheless, his
slave will not be found to be like them, for having begun by being
honest, he has not found it worth his while to be otherwise."
"That is as much as to say you would be dishonest if it suited your
interests," said I; "but come, the day wears fast, and we are anxious
to be out of this crowd before dark."
The fellow gave me a knowing look, accompanied by a shrug of his
shoulders, which could not be mistaken; what I had said had proved to
him that we were on our guard. "What description of goods may you be in
search of?" said he; "any may be procured, from the shawls of Cashmere
and brocades of Benares to the meanest article."
"Benares fabrics are what we require," said I; "a few handsome
roomals and doputtas, and a turban or two, to adorn ourselves for the
minister's durbar."
"You shall see them," said the dullal, girding his shawl about his
waist. "Now follow me, and keep a good eye on me, lest you lose me in
the crowd." And so saying, he descended the steps of the building,
and led us along some of the principal streets, till we dived into
an obscure alley, and stopped at the door of a house which certainly
promised nothing from its exterior.
"A very unsatisfactory search we should have had," said I to my father,
"had we endeavoured to find out a merchant ourselves. It is well we
took this fellow with us."
"These merchants, I have heard, usually choose these secluded places
on account of their security," replied my father. "It would not do in
a lawless place like this to expose goods for sale as they do in other
cities. But they are well known, and easily found out by strangers if
they apply to the dullals as we have done."
We were ushered into the interior of the house, and were received by
a large fat man, the very counterpart of the sahoukar I had killed. I
started involuntarily at the resemblance; but soon recovering myself,
and assured by his civility, I seated myself, as did also my father,
and we quickly entered on the object of our visit. One by one bales
were opened and their contents spread before us. The sahoukar's stock
seemed to be interminable and of great value. We selected several
articles, and inquiring the prices of those which we inspected, of
which I made memorandums, we desired them to be kept for us, saying
that we would call the next day with money to pay for them. The
sahoukar pressed us to take them with us, and the dullal offered his
security for us; but for obvious reasons we declined, and took our
leave of the merchant.
The dullal accompanied us as far as the Char Minar, where my father,
slipping a piece of money into his hands for his trouble, told him we
now knew our way home, and bid him come early in the morning to the
karwan, and inquire for the house of Rugonath Das Sahoukar, where he
would get tidings of us. "So far I am satisfied," said my father; "our
goods, as you will have observed, are equal in quality to those we saw,
and by the prices affixed to them we have a good earnest of a large sum
of money, if we can only dispose of them, a matter I apprehend of no
difficulty if properly managed."
The next morning came the dullal. "Canst thou be secret?" asked my
father at once, and throwing him a couple of rupees. The fellow started
and trembled.
"If such is my lord's will," said he, his teeth almost chattering with
fear, "I can; but I am a poor man, a very inoffensive man. I am my
lord's slave, and rub my nose on his feet," cried he at last, fairly
throwing himself on the ground and rubbing his forehead against the
ground, as he saw my father's brow contracting, and his face assuming
an expression of anger at the evident suspicion which the man had of us.
"Why," cried my father, as the fellow lay on the floor whimpering,
"what is this? what chicken-hearted son of a vile woman art thou? In
the name of Alla get up! Because a man who, Inshalla! is somebody, asks
thee whether thou canst be secret, must thou of necessity think thou
art going to have thy throat cut?"
"Do not talk of it," cried the wretch, shutting his eyes and
shuddering. "I am a poor man and a miserable Hindoo; what would my
lord get by cutting my throat?"
"Nay," said my father, "this is beyond bearing; the fellow has not the
soul of a flea. Kick him out into the street, and beat him on the mouth
with a slipper: there are plenty of dullals to be found beside him."
"Pardon, noble sir!" cried the fellow--the mention of his trade leading
him to suppose that he was required in the way of his calling--"pardon
my foolishness. My lord's threatening aspect turned my liver into
water; but now that he smiles again, I am assured that no harm is
meant."
"Harm! surely not to such a wretch as thou," said my father; "but since
thou art inclined to listen to reason, sit down, and hear what we have
to say to thee."
"I can be secret," cried the dullal; "let my lord speak."
"It will fare badly with thee if thou art not," said my father, again
looking grimly at him: "but listen. I am a merchant; I have never
been at this city before; but hearing at Delhi that an investment of
valuable goods, such as we saw yesterday, was likely to sell well here,
I have brought one down with me. I knew not the selling prices here,
and therefore engaged thee to show me some goods, that I might be able
to regulate the sale of my own. Now, canst thou manage it for me?"
"Surely, surely," said the fellow in delight, "nothing is more easy. My
lord will not, of course, forget my perquisites on the sale?"
"Thou shalt have five rupees in every hundred's worth disposed of,"
said my father: "will this content thee?"
"It is a princely offer, and worthy of my lord's generosity," said the
dullal. "Might I be permitted to see the goods?"
"It is necessary that you should see them, and here they are," rejoined
my father; and he opened the door of the room where they were, and one
by one displayed the contents of the bales.
"This is indeed a rich stock," said the dullal; "you may be able to
sell most of the cloths, but I question whether the whole, without you
intend to remain here some time."
"That depends upon circumstances over which I have no control," said my
father; "if I cannot sell them all here, I shall take what remains to
Poona."
"Well," said the man, "if I am permitted, I will make memorandums of
all that there is here, and in the course of to-morrow will let you
know what can be done. I cannot do so earlier, for I shall have to
visit all the dealers."
"Do what you think best," said my father, "and here are ten rupees
for your expenses. Now begone, and let me see you again at this time
to-morrow." The fellow made many salams and took his leave.
"Did you ever see so pitiful a wretch?" said my father. "For two
cowrees I would have strangled him on the spot, to put an end to so
disgraceful a coward."
"Let him pass," said I; "he is but a Hindoo, and not worth thinking
of. But you are not going to let him off with all the money you have
promised him?"
"Of course not," replied my father; "you understand, I suppose, what is
to be done?"
"Perfectly," said I; "leave him to me."
I went to Zora, my own gentle Zora. She had been speaking much of
visiting her kindred, and though I had put her off as well as I could
since we arrived, I saw with concern that I had no longer any pretext
for detaining her. I could have fled with her--I think I could. Such
was the intensity of my love for her, that, had I had the courage to
speak of flight and she had agreed to accompany me, I verily believe I
should have forsaken father, associates, and profession, and committed
myself to the world. And if I had, said the Thug, musing, should I have
been worse off than I am now? should I ever have worn these disgraceful
fetters? have ever doomed myself to perpetual imprisonment and a
state of existence which I would to heaven were ended, and should be
ended, but that I have (and I curse myself for it), a mean, base, aye,
cowardly lingering for life! Sahib, I tell you it would have been well
for me had I then fled--fled from guilt and crime, into which I daily
plunged deeper. With my soldierlike figure, my address, my skill in
the use of arms, I might have gained honourable service; I might have
led armies, or have met a soldier's death on some battle-field! But it
was not so written; it was not my fate, and I am what I am--a curse to
myself, and to all with whom I have ever been connected.
Zora! she thought not of my anxiety; all she hoped for, cared for
now, was to see her mother and her sister. She assailed me with
importunities that I would send her, and assured me that she would not
be long absent, but go to them she must; they would so rejoice to see
her again, and would welcome me as her deliverer. After seeing them
she would return to me, and we should never again be parted. "Alas!"
I said, "my Zora, you know not what you ask. Do you think that those
charms are of no value to your mother and sister? You have owned to me
that you are far more beautiful and attractive than any of those you
are connected with. In your absence they will have sunk into obscurity,
and they will hail your return as the earnest of more wealth and more
distinction."
"Nay, these are cruel words, my beloved," she replied; "you well know
that I have never deceived you, and that, as true as that I breathe, my
soul is yours for ever. So let me go, I pray you, and in a few hours I
shall be again with you, and pressed to your honoured breast."
"Be it so," said I, sadly; for though I hardly dared think it, I felt
as if this was our parting for ever. "Go, then; and if you return not,
I will come to you by the evening." A covered zenana cart was easily
hired; and the driver seeming perfectly to understand where she wished
to go, she stepped joyfully into it, attended by her old servant, and,
with two of my men to attend her, she left me.
They soon returned; but they knew nothing, save that there was great
joy in the house when her relatives saw her. Towards evening I could
no longer control my impatience; and, taking one of them with me, I
mounted my horse and rode to her house. It was situated nearly opposite
a fountain, which is in the centre of the street below the Char Minar,
and I had passed it the day before. I was easily admitted; and oh! what
joy was evinced when I entered the room where Zora, her sister, and
mother were seated. "He is come!" cried my poor girl, and she rushed
into my arms. She strained me to her breast for an instant, and then,
holding me from her, "Look, mother!" she cried; "look on him; is he not
as I said--is he not as beautiful and brave!"
The old lady approached me, and, passing her hands over my face,
cracked her knuckles, and every joint of her fingers, by pressing the
backs of her hands against her temples, while the tears ran down her
cheeks. This she did as often as there was a joint to crack; and then
she caught me in her arms and hugged me, crying at the same time like
a child. The sister received me, I thought, rather coldly. Had I been
less handsome, perhaps, she would have been more cordial; she did not
seem to like Zora's having so handsome a lover.
"May the blessing of the Prophet and the twelve Imams be on you and
your posterity!" cried the old lady, when she had recovered breath to
speak. "May the gracious Alla keep you in his protection, and may the
lady Muriam and the holy Moula-ali bless you! You have made a desolate
house full again, and have changed our weeping to joy. What can I say
more? Who could have thought it was our Zora when a cart stopped at the
door? Zenatbee was just saying that it was that vile wretch Sukeena,
come to pretend condolence, while in reality she rejoiced at our
misfortune, which left her without a rival; and I was saying--no matter
what I was saying--when we heard a faint cry, as if of astonishment,
and a bustle, and we did not know what to think; when in rushed our
lost Zora, our pearl, our diamond; and then I thought my old heart
would break with joy, for my liver seemed to be melted; and I have done
nothing since, Meer Sahib, but sit opposite to her, and stroke her face
with my hands, and gaze into her eyes, to assure myself that I am not
mistaken. Inshalla! to-morrow I will send five rupees to every shrine
in the city, and distribute sweetmeats to fifty beggars in the name of
the Imam Zamin; besides, I will have a tazea made, and will no longer
wear these mourning garments. Ah! Meer Sahib, if you knew how I have
sat day after day, and wept till I am reduced to a mere shadow of what
I was! and all my friends tried to console me, but in vain; I would
not be comforted." And her tears flowed afresh at the recollection.
What the old lady was before her grief commenced I cannot pretend to
say; but in her present plight she appeared the fattest woman I had
ever looked upon. We sat conversing and relating our adventures until
the evening fell; and I spread my carpet for prayer. "Ah, he is a good
Syud," said the old woman; "I like to see the young fond of their
devotions; but it is ever thus with the noble race from Hindostan."
I was preparing to take my departure, when they one and all cried out
against it. "What! leave our house before you have broken bread and
drunk water with us?" It was not to be thought of--I must stay--dinner
was prepared; they were just on the point of sending for me when I
came; and, above all, it was the ninth day of the Mohorum; and I
must stay, were it but to see the procession of the Nal Sahib. That
sacred relic, one of the shoes of the horse the blessed Prophet rode
when he fled to Medina, would be carried in grand procession, and I
should never have a chance of seeing the like again. These reasons,
and many imploring looks from Zora made me speedily determine; so,
sending away my horse and the man, with a message to my father to say
I should not return, I gave myself up to a night of enjoyment, such as
I little expected when I parted with Zora in the morning. The dinner
was excellent, and the old lady's cooking unexceptionable. There were
all sorts of curries, with but a mouthful in each little cup, but still
sufficient of each to leave an exquisite flavour in the mouth, only
to be replaced by another surpassing it--pilaus of various kinds, and
sweetmeats; and, to crown all, some delicious wine of the infidels
called the Francees, which the old lady pronounced not to be wine, but
sherbet, and allowed to the Huzoor himself, the great Sikundur Jah. It
certainly was very delicious, and elevated the spirits. At the end,
after taking a whiff or two, she carefully wiped the mouth-piece, and
presented me with her own hookah, the fragrance of which was beyond
that of ambergris or musk. I was in paradise!--I was intensely happy!
"You have heard me sing," said Zora to me, "when I was in captivity,
and, after the fatigues of travel, in our little tent, where there
was no scope for my voice; now my heart is glad and bounding, and you
shall hear me again--may the Prophet pardon me for singing during
the Mohorum!--and you shall say which you like best; my sister shall
accompany me till I am tired, and I will then accompany her."
A saringhee was brought; Zenat tuned it, and, taking the bow, played
a short prelude. It was one of the most entrancing sounds I had ever
heard. Zora surpassed all her former attempts; it was ravishing to
listen to her; and her sister, who was a perfect mistress of the
instrument (a strange thing for a woman), gave it its full force of
melody and expression. You know, Sahib, how nearly it accords to the
human voice; and now, as accompaniment and song rose and fell together,
it appeared as though two of the richest, fullest voices were pouring
forth strains such as angels might have come down from the skies to
hear.
But at last the noise of drums and shouting outside became so great,
that both gave up in despair. "A plague on them all," said she; "and I
in such voice, that I could have sung to you all night! And have I sung
well?"
"Ay, have you," said I; "but methinks the first song you ever sung to
me, at the palace in Oomerkhér, will dwell longer on my memory than any
I have heard since."
"Ya Alla!" exclaimed Zenat who had moved to the window; "was there ever
a sight so magnificent! Come and see; 'tis passing fast, and will be
soon out of sight."