Rambles and Recollections of an Indian Official by William Sleeman

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In the afternoon, when my second large tent had been pitched, the
minister came to pay me a visit with a large train of followers, but
with little display; and I found him a very sensible, mild, and
gentlemanly man, just as I expected from the high character he bears
with both parties, and with the people of the country generally. Any
unreserved conversation here in such a crowd was, of course, out of
the question, and I told the minister that it was my intention early
next morning to visit the tomb of his late master; where I should be
very glad to meet him, if he could make it convenient to come without
any ceremony. He seemed much pleased with the proposal, and next
morning we met a little before sunrise within the railing that
encloses the tomb or cenotaph; and there had a good deal of quiet
and, I believe, unreserved talk about the affairs of the Jhansi
state, and the family of the late prince. He told me that, a few
hours before the Raja's death, his mother had placed in his arms for
adoption the son of his sister, a very handsome lad of ten years of
age--but whether the Raja was or was not sensible at the time he
could not say, for he never after heard him speak; that the mother of
the deceased considered the adoption as complete, and made her
grandson go through the funeral ceremonies as at the death of his
father, which for nine days were performed unmolested; but, when it
came to the tenth and last--which, had it passed quietly, would have
been considered as completing the title of adoption--Raghunath Rao
and his friends interposed, and prevented further proceedings,
declaring that, while there were so many male heirs, no son could be
adopted for the deceased prince according to the usages of the
family.

The widow of the Raja, a timid, amiable young woman, of twenty-five
years of age, was by no means anxious for this adoption, having
shared the suspicions of her husband regarding the practices of his
mother; and found his sister, who now resided with them in the
castle, a most violent and overbearing woman, who would be likely to
exclude her from all share in the administration, and make her life
very miserable, were her son to be declared the Raja. Her wish was to
be allowed to adopt, in the name of her deceased husband, a young
cousin of his, Sadasheo, the son of Nana Bhao. Gangadhar, the younger
brother of Raghunath Rao, was exceedingly anxious to have his elder
brother declared Raja, because he had no sons, and from the
debilitated state of his frame, must soon die, and leave the
principality to him. Every one of the three parties had sent agents
to the Governor-General's representative in Bundelkhand to urge their
claim; and, till the final decision, the widow of the late chief was
to be considered the sovereign. The minister told me that there was
one unanswerable argument against Raghunath Rao's succeeding, which,
out of regard to his feelings, he had not yet urged, and about which
he wished to consult me as a friend of the late prince and his widow;
this was, that he was a leper, and that the signs of the disease were
becoming every day more and more manifest.

I told him that I had observed them in his face, but was not aware
that any one else had noticed them. I urged him, however, not to
advance this as a ground of exclusion, since they all knew him to be
a very worthy man, while his younger brother was said to be the
reverse; and more especially I thought it would be very cruel and
unwise to distress and exasperate him by so doing, as I had no doubt
that, before this ground could be brought to their notice, Government
would declare in his favour, right being so clearly on his side.

After an agreeable conversation with this sensible and excellent man,
I returned to my tents to prepare for the reception of Raghunath Rao
and his party. They came about nine o'clock with a much greater
display of elephants and followers than the minister had brought with
him. He and his friends kept me in close conversation till eleven
o'clock, in spite of my wife's many considerate messages to say
breakfast was waiting. He told me that the mother of the late Raja,
his nephew, was a very violent woman, who had involved the state in
much trouble during the period of her regency, which she managed to
prolong till her son was twenty-five years of age, and resigned with
infinite reluctance only three years ago; that her minister during
her regency, Gangadhar Muli, was at the same time her _paramour_, and
would be surely restored to power and to her embraces, were her
grandson's claim to the succession recognized; that it was with great
difficulty he had been able to keep this atrocious character under
surveillance pending the consideration of their claims by the Supreme
Government; that, by having the head of her grandson shaved, and
making him go through all the other funeral ceremonies with the other
members of the family, she had involved him and his young _innocent
wife_ (who had unhappily continued to drink out of the same cup with
her husband) _in the dreadful crime of mourning for a father whom
they knew to be yet alive_, a crime that must be expiated by the
'prayaschit,'[7] which-would be exacted from the young couple on
their return to Sagar before they could be restored to caste, from
which they were now considered as excommunicated. As for the young
widow, she was everything they could wish; but she was so timid that
she would be governed by the old lady, if she should have any
ostensible part assigned her in the administration.[8]

I told the old gentleman that I believed it would be my duty to pay
the first visit to the widow and mother of the late prince, as one of
pure condolence, and that I hoped my doing so would not be considered
any mark of disrespect towards him, who must now be looked up to as
the head of the family. He remonstrated against this most earnestly;
and, at last, tears came into his eyes as he told me that, if I paid
the first visit to the castle, he should never again be able to show
his face outside his door, so great would be the indignity he would
be considered to have suffered; but, rather than I should do this, he
would come to my tents, and escort me himself to the castle. Much was
to be said on both sides of the weighty question; but, at last, I
thought that the arguments were in his favour--that, if I went to the
castle first, he might possibly resent it upon the poor woman and the
prime minister when he came into power, as I had no doubt he soon
would--and that I might be consulting their interest as much as his
feelings by going to his house first. In the evening I received a
message from the old lady, urging the necessity of my paying the
first visit of condolence for the death of my young friend to the
widow and mother. 'The rights of mothers', said she, 'are respected
in all countries; and, in India, the first visit of condolence for
the death of a man is always due to the mother, if alive.' I told the
messenger that my resolution was unaltered, and would, I trusted, be
found the best for all parties under present circumstances. I told
him that I dreaded the resentment towards them of Raghunath Rao, if
he came into power.

'Never mind that,' said he: 'my mistress is of too proud a spirit to
dread resentment from any one--pay her the compliment of the first
visit, and let her enemies do their worst.' I told him that I could
leave Jhansi without visiting either of them, but could not go first
to the castle; and he said that my departing thus would please the
old lady better than the _second visit_. The minister would not have
said this--the old lady would not have ventured to send such a
message by him--the man was an understrapper; and I left him to mount
my elephant and pay my two visits.[9]

With the best _cortege_ I could muster, I went to Raghunath Rao's,
where I was received with a salute from some large guns in his
courtyard, and entertained with a party of dancing girls and
musicians in the usual manner. Attar of roses and 'pan'[10] were
given, and valuable shawls put before me, and refused in the politest
terms I could think of; such as, 'Pray do me the favour to keep these
things for me till I have the happiness of visiting Jhansi again, as
I am going through Gwalior, where nothing valuable is a moment safe
from thieves'. After sitting an hour, I mounted my elephant, and
proceeded up to the castle, where I was received with another salute
from the bastions. I sat for half an hour in the hall of audience
with the minister and all the principal men of the court, as
Raghunath Rao was to be considered as a private gentleman till the
decision of the Supreme Government should be made known; and the
handsome lad, Krishan Rao, whom the old woman wished to adopt, and
whom I had often seen at Sagar, was at my request brought in and
seated by my side. By him I sent my message of condolence to the
widow and mother of his deceased uncle, couched in the usual terms--
that the happy effects of good government in the prosperity of this
city, and the comfort and happiness of the people, had extended the
fame of the family all over India; and that I trusted the reigning
member of that family, whoever he might be, would be sensible that it
was his duty to sustain that reputation by imitating the example of
those who had gone before him. After attar of roses and pan had been
handed round in the usual manner, I went to the summit of the highest
tower in the castle, which commands an extensive view of the country
around.

The castle stands upon the summit of a small hill of syenitic rock.
The elevation of the outer wall is about one hundred feet above the
level of the plain, and the top of the tower on which I stood about
one hundred feet more, as the buildings rise gradually from the sides
to the summit of the hill. The city extends out into the plain to the
east from the foot of the hill on which the castle stands. Around the
city there is a good deal of land, irrigated from four or five tanks
in the neighbourhood, and now under rich wheat crops; and the gardens
are very numerous, and abound in all the fruit and vegetables that
the people most like. Oranges are very abundant and very fine, and
our tents have been actually buried in them and all the other fruits
and vegetables which the kind people of Jhansi have poured in upon
us. The city of Jhansi contains about sixty thousand inhabitants, and
is celebrated for its manufacture of carpets.[11] There are some very
beautiful temples in the city, all built by Gosains, one [_sic_] of
the priests of Siva who here engage in trade, and accumulate much
wealth.[12] The family of the chief do not build tombs; and that now
raised over the place where the late prince was buried is dedicated
as a temple to Siva, and was made merely with a view to secure the
place from all danger of profanation.[13]

The face of the country beyond the influence of the tanks is neither
rich nor interesting. The cultivation seemed scanty and the
population thin, owing to the irremediable sterility of soil, from
the poverty of the primitive rock from whose detritus it is chiefly
formed. Raghunath Rao told me that the wish of the people in the
castle to adopt a child as the successor to his nephew arose from the
desire to escape the scrutiny into the past accounts of disbursements
which he might be likely to order. I told him that I had myself no
doubt that he would be declared the Raja, and urged him to turn all
his thoughts to the future, and to allow no inquiries to be made into
the past, with a view to gratify either his own resentment, or that
of others; that the Rajas of Jhansi had hitherto been served by the
most respectable, able, and honourable men in the country, while the
other chiefs of Bundelkhand could get no man of this class to do
their work for them--that this was the only court in Bundelkhand in
which such men could be seen, simply because it was the only one in
which they could feel themselves secure--while other chiefs
confiscated the property of ministers who had served them with
fidelity, on the pretence of embezzlement; the wealth thus acquired,
however, soon disappearing, and its possessors being obliged either
to conceal it or go out of the country to enjoy it. Such rulers thus
found their courts and capitals deprived of all those men of wealth
and respectability who adorned the courts of princes in other
countries, and embellished, not merely their capitals, but the face
of their dominions in general with their chateaus and other works of
ornament and utility. Much more of this sort passed between us, and
seemed to make an impression upon him; for he promised to do all that
I had recommended to him. Poor man! he can have but a short and
miserable existence, for that dreadful disease, the leprosy, is
making sad inroads in his System already.[14] His uncle, Raghunath
Rao, was afflicted with it; and, having understood from the priests
that by _drowning_ himself in the Ganges (taking the 'samadh'), he
should remove all traces of it from his family, he went to Benares,
and there drowned himself, some twenty years ago. He had no children,
and is said to have been the first of his family in whom the disease
showed itself.[15]

Notes:

1. December, 1835.

2. Now the head-quarters of the British district of the same name,
and also of the Indian Midland Railway. Since the opening of this
railway and the restoration of the Gwalior fort to Sindhia in 1886,
the importance of Jhansi, both civil and military, has much
increased. The native town was given up by Sindhia in exchange for
the Gwalior stronghold.

3. This chief is called Raja Rao Ramchand in the _N.W.P. Gazetteer_,
1st ed. He died on August 20, 1835. His administration had been weak,
and his finances were left in great disorder. Under his successor the
disorder of the administration became still greater.

4. Dowagers in Indian princely families are frequently involved in
such intrigues and plots. The editor could specify instances in his
personal experience. Compare Chapter 34, _post_.

5. An adopted son passes completely out of the family of his natural,
into that of his adoptive, father, all his rights and duties as a son
being at the same time transferred. In this case, the adoption had
not really taken place, and the lad's duty to his living natural
father remained unaffected.

6. This statement will not apply to those districts in the United
Provinces where elephants are numerous and often kept by gentry of no
great rank or wealth, A Raja, of course, always likes to have a few
mounted men clattering behind him, if possible.

7. The 'prayaschit' is an expiating atonement by which the person
humbles himself in public. It is often imposed for crimes committed
in a _former birth_, as indicated by inflictions suffered in this.
[W. H. S.] The practical working of Hindoo caste rules is often
frightfully cruel. The victims of these rules in the case described
by the author were a boy ten years old, and his child-wife of still
more tender years. Yet all the penalties, including rigorous fasts,
would be mercilessly exacted from these innocent children. Leprosy
and childlessness are among the afflictions supposed to prove the
sinfulness of the sufferer in some former birth, perhaps thousands of
years ago.

8. The poor young widow died of grief some months after my visit; her
spirits never rallied after the death of her husband, and she never
ceased to regret that she had not burned herself with his remains.
The people of Jhansi generally believe that the prince's mother
brought about his death by (_dinai_) slow poison, and I am afraid
that that was the impression on the mind of the poor widow. The
minister, who was entirely on her side, and a most worthy and able
man, was quite satisfied that this suspicion was without any
foundation whatever in truth. [W. H. S.]

9. Considering the fact that, 'till the final decision, the widow of
the late chief was to be considered the sovereign', it would be
difficult to justify the anthor's decision. The reigning sovereign
was clearly entitled to the first visit. Questions of precedence,
salutes, and etiquette are as the very breath of their nostrils to
the Indian nobility.

10. The leaf of _Piper betel_, handed to guests at ceremonial
entertainments, along with the nut of _Areca catechu_, made up in a
packet of gold or silver leaf.

11. This estimate of the population was probably excessive. The
population in 1891, including the cantonments, was 53,779, and in
1911, 70,208. The fort of Gwalior and the cantonment of Morar were
surrendered by the Government of India to Sindhia in exchange for the
fort and town of Jhansi on March 10, 1886. Sindhia also relinquished
fifty-eight villages in exchange for thirty given up by the
Government of India, the difference in value being adjusted by cash
payments. The arrangements were finally sanctioned by Lord Dufferin
on June 13, 1888.

12. These buildings are both tombs and temples. The Gosains of Jhansi
do not burn, but bury their dead; and over the grave those who can
afford to do so raise a handsome temple, and dedicate it to Siva. [W.
H. S.] The custom of burial is not peculiar to the Saiva Gosains of
Jhansi. It is the ordinary practice of Gosains throughout India. Many
of the Gosains are devoted to the worship of Vishnu. Burial of the
dead is practised by a considerable number of the Hindoo castes of
the artisan grade, and by some divisions of the sweeper caste. See
Crooke, 'Primitive Rites of Disposal of the Dead' (_J. Anthrop.
Institute_, vol. xxix, N.S., vol. ii (1900), pp. 271-92).

13. This tact lends some support to W. Simpson's theory that the
Hindoo temple is derived from a sepulchral structure.

14. This chief died of leprosy in May, 1838. [W. H. S.]

15. Raghunath Rao was the first of his family invested by the Peshwa
with the government of the Jhansi territory, which he had acquired
from the Bundelkhand chiefs. He went to Benares in 1795 to drown
himself, leaving his government to his third brother, Sheoram Bhao,
as his next brother, Lachchhman Rao, was dead, and his sons were
considered incapable. Sheoram Bhao died in 1815, and his eldest son,
Krishan Rao, had died four years before him, in 1811, leaving one
son, the late Raja, and two daughters. This was a noble sacrifice to
what he had been taught by his spiritual teachers to consider as a
duty towards his family; and we must admire the man while we condemn
the religion and the priests. There is no country in the world where
parents are more reverenced than in India, or where they more readily
make sacrifices of all sorts for their children, or for those they
consider as such. We succeeded in [June] 1817 to all the rights of
the Peshwa in Bundelkhand, and, with great generosity, converted the
viceroys of Jhansi and Jalaun into independent sovereigns of
hereditary principalities, yielding each ten lakhs of rupees. [W. H.
S.] The statement in the note that Raghunath Rao I 'went to Benares
in 1795 to drown himself' is inconsistent with the statement in the
text that this event happened 'some twenty years ago'. The word
'twenty' is evidently a mistake for 'forty'. The _N. W. P.
Gazetteer_, 1st ed., names several persons who governed Jhansi on
behalf of the Peshwa between 1742 and 1770, in which latter year
Raghunath Rao I received charge. According to the same authority,
Sheo (Shio) Ram Bhao is called 'Sheo Bhao Hari, better known as Sheo
Rao Bhao', and is said to have succeeded Raghunath Rao I in 1794, and
to have died in 1814, not 1816. A few words may here be added to
complete the history. The leper Raghunath Rao II, whose claim the
author strangely favoured, was declared Raja, and died, as already
noted, in May, 1838, 'his brief period of rule being rendered unquiet
by the opposition made to him, professedly on the ground of his being
a leper'. His revenues fell from twelve lakhs (L120,000) to three
lakhs of rupees (L30,000) a year. On his death in 1838, the
succession was again contested by four claimants. Pending inquiry
into the merits of their claims, the Governor-General's Agent assumed
the administration. Ultimately, Gangadhar Rao, younger brother of the
leper, was appointed Raja. The disorder in the state rendered
administration by British officers necessary as a temporary measure,
and Gangadhar Rao did not obtain power until 1842. His rule was, on
the whole, good. He died childless in November, 1853, and Lord
Dalhousie, applying the doctrine of lapse, annexed the estate in
1854, granting a pension of five thousand rupees, or about five
hundred pounds, monthly to Lacchhmi Bai, Gangadhar Rao's widow, who
also succeeded to personal property worth about one hundred thousand
pounds. She resented the refusal of permission to adopt a son, and
the consequent annexation of the state, and was further deeply
offended by several acts of the English Administration, above all by
the permission of cow-slaughter. Accordingly, when the Mutiny broke
out, she quickly joined the rebels. On the 7th and 8th June, 1857,
all the Europeans in Jhansi, men, women, and children, to the number
of about seventy persons, were cruelly murdered by her orders, or
with her sanction. On the 9th June her authority was proclaimed. In
the prolonged fighting which ensued, she placed herself at the head
of her troops, whom she led with great gallantry. In June, 1858,
after a year's bloodstained reign, she was killed in battle. By
November, 1858, the country was pacified.

CHAPTER 30

Haunted Villages.

On the 16th[1] we came on nine miles to Amabai, the frontier village
of the Jhansi territory, bordering upon Datiya,[2] where I had to
receive the farewell visits of many members of the Jhansi parties,
who came on to have a quiet opportunity to assure me that, whatever
may be the final order of the Supreme Government, they will do their
best for the good of the people and the state; for I have always
considered Jhansi among the native states of Bundelkhand as a kind of
oasis in the desert, the only one in which a man can accumulate
property with the confidence of being permitted by its rulers freely
to display and enjoy it. I had also to receive the visit of
messengers from the Raja of Datiya, at whose capital we were to
encamp the next day, and, finally, to take leave of my amiable little
friend the Sarimant, who here left me on his return to Sagar, with a
heavy heart I really believe.

We talked of the common belief among the agricultural classes of
villages being haunted by the spirits of ancient proprietors whom it
was thought necessary to propitiate. 'He knew', he said, 'many
instances where these spirits were so very _froward_ that the present
heads of villages which they haunted, and the members of their little
communities, found it almost impossible to keep them in good humour;
and their cattle and children were, in consequence, always liable to
serious accidents of one kind or another. Sometimes they were bitten
by snakes, sometimes became possessed by devils, and, at others, were
thrown down and beaten most unmercifully. Any person who falls down
in an epileptic fit is supposed to be thrown down by a ghost, or
possessed by a devil.[3] They feel little of our mysterious dread of
ghosts; a sound _drubbing_ is what they dread from them, and he who
hurts himself in one of the fits is considered to have got it. 'As
for himself, whenever he found any one of the villages upon his
estate haunted by the spirit of an old "patel" (village proprietor),
he always made a point of giving him a _neat little shrine_, and
having it well endowed and attended, to keep him in good humour; this
he thought was a duty that every landlord owed to his tenants.'
Ramchand, the pundit, said that 'villages which had been held by old
Gond (mountaineer) proprietors were more liable than any other to
those kinds of visitations; that it was easy to say what village was
and was not haunted, but often exceedingly difficult to discover to
whom the ghost belonged. This once discovered, his nearest surviving
relation was, of course, expected to take steps to put him to rest;
but', said he, 'it is wrong to suppose that the ghost of an old
proprietor must be always doing mischief--he is often the best friend
of the cultivators, and of the present proprietor too, if he treats
him with proper respect; for he will not allow the people of any
other village to encroach upon their boundaries with impunity, and
they will be saved all the expense and annoyance of a reference to
the "adalat" (judicial tribunals) for the settlement of boundary
disputes. It will not cost much to conciliate these spirits, and the
money is generally well laid out.'

Several anecdotes were told me in illustration; and all that I could
urge against the probability or possibility of such Visitation
appeared to them very inconclusive and unsatisfactory. They mentioned
the case of the family of village proprietors in the Sagar district,
who had for several generations, at every new settlement, insisted
upon having the name of the spirit of the old proprietor inserted in
the lease instead of their own, and thereby secured his good graces
on all occasions. Mr. Fraser had before mentioned this case to me. In
August, 1834, while engaged in the settlement of the land revenue of
the Sagar district for twenty years, he was about to deliver the
lease of the estate made out in due form to the head of the family, a
very honest and respectable old gentleman, when he asked him
respectfully in whose name it had been made out. 'In yours, to be
sure; have you not renewed your lease for twenty years?' The old man,
in a state of great alarm, begged him to have it altered immediately,
or he and his family would all be destroyed--that the spirit of the
ancient proprietor presided over the village community and its
interests, and that all affairs of importance were transacted is his
name. 'He is', said the old man, 'a very jealous spirit, and will not
admit of any living man being considered for a moment as a proprietor
or joint proprietor of the estate. It has been held by me and my
ancestors immediately under Government for many generations; but the
lease deeds have always been made out in his name, and ours have been
inserted merely as his managers or bailiffs--were this good old rule,
under which we have so long prospered, to be now infringed, we should
all perish under his anger.' Mr. Fraser found, upon inquiring, that
this had really been the case; and, to relieve the old man and his
family from their fears, he had the papers made out afresh, and the
_ghost_ inserted as the proprietor. The modes of flattering and
propitiating these beings, natural and supernatural, who are supposed
to have the power to do mischief, are endless.[4]