Rambles and Recollections of an Indian Official by William Sleeman

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A party of thieves from Datiya, in 1882, followed Lord William
Bentinck's camp to the bank of the river Jumna near Mathura, where
they found a poor merchant humbly entreating an insolent custom-house
officer not to insist upon his showing the contents of the little box
he carried in his carriage, lest it might attract the attention of
thieves, who were always to be found among the followers of such a
camp, and offering to give him anything reasonable for his
forbearance. Nothing he could be got to offer would satisfy the
rapacity of the man; the box was taken out and opened. It contained
jewels which the poor man hoped to sell to advantage among the
European ladies and gentlemen of the Governor-General's suite. He
replaced his box in his carriage; but in half an hour it was
travelling post-haste to Datiya, by relays of thieves who had been
posted along the road for such occasions. They quarrelled about the
division; swords were drawn, and wounds inflicted. One of the gang
ran off to the magistrate at Sagar, with whom he had before been
acquainted;[6] and he sent him back with a small party, and a letter
to the Datiya Raja requesting that he would get the box of jewels for
the poor merchant. The party took the precaution of searching the
house of the thieves before they delivered the letter to their friend
the minister, and by this means recovered about half the jewels,
which amounted in all to about seven thousand rupees. The merchant
was agreeably surprised when he got back so much of his property
through the magistrate of Mathura, and confirmed the statement of the
thief regarding the dispute with the custom-house officer which
enabled them to discover the value of the box.

Should Government by and by extend the System that obtains in this
single line to the Customs all over India they may greatly augment
their revenue without any injury, and with but little necessary loss
and inconvenience to merchants. The object of all just taxation is to
make the subjects contribute to the public burthen in proportion to
their means, and with as little loss and inconvenience to themselves
as possible. The people who reside west of this line enjoy all their
salt, cotton, and other articles which are taxed on crossing the line
without the payment of any duties, while those to the east of it are
obliged to pay. It is, therefore, not a just line. The advantages
are, first, that it interposes a body of most efficient officers
between the mass of harpies and the heads of the department, who now
virtually superintend the whole System, whereas they used formerly to
do so merely ostensibly. They are at once the _tapis_ of Prince
Husain and the telescope of Prince Ali; they enable the heads of
departments to be everywhere and see everything, whereas before they
were nowhere and saw nothing.[7] Secondly, it makes the great staple
articles of general consumption alone liable to the payment of
duties, and thereby does away in a great measure with the odious
right of search.

At Kosi our friend, Charles Fraser, left us to proceed through
Mathura to Agra. He is a very worthy man and excellent public
officer, one of those whom one always meets again with pleasure, and
of whose society one never tires. Mr. Wilmot, the Collector of
Customs, and Mr. Wright, one of the patrol officers, came to dine
with us. The wind blew so hard all day that the cook and khansaman
(butler) were long in despair of being able to give us any dinner at
all. At last we managed to get a tent, closed at every crevice to
keep out the dust, for a cook-room; and they were thus able to
preserve their master's credit, which, no doubt, according to their
notions, depended altogether on the quality of his dinner.

Notes:

1. The place is a small town in the Gurgaon District, Panjab.

2. The term 'uncovenanted' may require explanation for readers not
familiar with the details of Indian administration. The Civil Service
of India, commonly called Indian Civil Service, which supplies most
of the higher administrative and judicial officers, used to be known
as the Covenanted service, because its members sign a covenant with
the Secretary of State. All the other departmental services--Public
Works, Postal and the rest--were grouped together as uncovenanted. In
accordance with the Report of the Public Service Commission (1886-7)
the terms 'covenanted' and 'uncovenanted' have been disused.

3. The text refers to what was known as the 'customs hedge'. Before
the establishment of the British supremacy each of the innumerable
native jurisdictions levied transit duties on many kinds of goods at
each of its frontiers, to the infinite vexation of traders. Such
duties were gradually abolished in British territory, and few, if
any, are now enforced by native states. Salt cannot be manufactured
in British India without a licence, and the Salt (formerly called
Inland Customs) Department is charged with the duty of preventing the
manufacture or sale of illicit salt. In its later developments the
Customs hedge was used for the collection of the salt duty only. Sir
John Strachey took a leading part in its abolition. To secure the
levy of the duty on salt, he writes, 'there grew up gradually a
monstrous system, to which it would be almost impossible to find a
parallel in any tolerably civilized country. A Customs line was
established which stretched across the whole of India, which in 1869
extended from the Indus to the Mahanadi in Madras, a distance of
2,300 miles; and it was guarded by nearly 12,000 men and petty
officers, at an annual cost of L162,000. It would have stretched from
London to Constantinople. . . . It consisted principally of an
immense impenetrable hedge of thorny trees and bushes . . . A similar
line, 280 miles in length, was maintained in the north-eastern part
of the Bombay Presidency from Dohud to the Runn of Cutch.' In 1878
the salt duties were revised, and the necessary arrangements with the
native states were made. With effect from the 1st April, 1879, the
whole Customs line was abolished, with the exception of a small
portion on the Indus. (Sir J. Strachey, _The Finances and Public
Works of India_, 1869-81, London, 1882, pp. 219, 220, 225.) Great
mines of rock salt are worked near the Indus.

4. Most people who know India intimately are of opinion that indirect
taxation is more suitable to the circumstances of the country than
direct taxation. For municipal purposes, indirect taxation, under the
name of octroi, is levied by most considerable towns, and
notwithstanding its inconveniences, is far less unpopular and far
more productive than any form of direct taxation. The people have
been accustomed to indirect taxation of divers kinds from the most
remote times, and hate income tax or any other direct impost, however
reasonable it may be in theory. Since 1895 the general customs duty
is 5 per cent. _ad valorem_ on commodities imported into British
India by sea. (See _I.G._, 1907, vol. iv, chapter 8). The above
remarks on the suitability of indirect taxation for India are not
intended as a defence of the barbarous device of the 'Customs hedge',
which was indefensible.

5. That unsound System prevailed in all departments during the early
years of the nineteenth century. 'In Bengal, the monopoly of salt in
one form or other dates at least from the establishment of the Board
of Trade there in 1765. The strict monopoly of salt commenced in
1780, under a System of agencies. The System introduced in 1780
continued in force with occasional modifications till 1862, when the
several salt agencies were gradually abolished, leaving the Supply of
salt, whether by importations or excise manufacture, to private
enterprise. Since then, for Bengal Proper, the supply of the
condiment has been obtained chiefly by importation, but in part by
private manufacture under a System of excise.' (Balfour,
_Cyclopaedia_, 3rd ed., s.v. Salt.) At present the Salt Department is
controlled by a single Commissioner with the Government of India, The
fee payable for a licence to manufacture salt is fifty rupees. It is
inaccurate to describe the limitation imposed on the manufacture of
salt as a monopoly. Any one can sell salt, but it can be made only
under licence.

6. The author.

7. The same observations, _mutatis mutandis_, are applicable to the
magistracy of the country; and the remedy for all the great existing
evils must be sought in the same means, the interposition of a body
of efficient officers between the magistrate and the 'thanadars', or
present head police officers of small divisions. [W. H. S.] Much has
been done to carry out this advice. The 'most efficient officers' of
the inland Customs department alluded to in the text were the
European or Eurasian 'uncovenanted' Collectors of Customs and their
assistants. The allusion to Prince Husain and Prince Ali refers to
the well-known tale in the _Arabian Nights_, 'The story of Prince
Ahmad and the Fairy Peri-Banu'. It is omitted, I believe, from Lane's
version.

CHAPTER 61

Peasantry of India attached to no existing Government--Want of Trees
in Upper India [1]--Cause and Consequence--Wells and Groves.

What strikes one most after crossing the Chambal is, I think, the
improved size and bearing of the men; they are much stouter, and more
bold and manly, without being at all less respectful. They are
certainly a noble peasantry, full of courage, spirit, and
intelligence; and heartily do I wish that we could adopt any system
that would give our Government a deep root in their affections, or
link their interests inseparably with its prosperity; for, with all
its defects, life, property, and character are certainly more secure,
and all their advantages more freely enjoyed under our Government
than under any other they have ever heard of, or that exists at
present in any other part of the country. The eternal subdivision of
the landed property reduces them too much to one common level, and
prevents the formation of that middle class which is the basis of all
that is great and good in European societies--the great vivifying
spirit which animates all that is good above it in the community.[2]
It is a singular fact that the peasantry, and, I may say, the landed
interest of the country generally, have never been the friends of any
existing government, have never considered their interests and that
of their government the same; and, consequently, have never felt any
desire for its success or its duration.[3]

The towns and villages all stand upon high mounds formed of the
debris of former towns and villages, that have been accumulating,
most of them, for thousands of years. They are for the most part mere
collections of wretched hovels built of frail materials, and destined
only for a brief period.

Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.[4]

And certainly there is no climate in the world where man wants less
than in this of India generally, and Upper India particularly. The
peasant lives in the open air; and a house to him is merely a thing
to eat and sleep in, and to give him shelter in the storm, which
comes upon him but seldom, and never in a pitiless shape. The society
of his friends he enjoys in the open air, and he never furnishes his
house for their reception or for display. The peasantry of India, in
consequence of living and talking so much in the open air, have all
stentorian voices, which they find it exceedingly difficult to
modulate to our taste when they come into our rooms.

Another thing in this part of India strikes a traveller from other
parts--the want of groves of fruit-trees around the villages and
along the roads. In every other part of India he can at every stage
have his tents pitched in a grove of mango-trees, that defend his
followers from the direct rays of the sun in the daytime, and from
the cold dews at night; but in the district above Agra, he may go for
ten marches without getting the shelter of a grove in one.[5] The
Sikhs, the Marathas, the Jats, and the Pathans destroyed them all
during the disorders attending the decline of the Muhammadan empire;
and they have never been renewed, because no man could feel secure
that they would be suffered to stand ten years. A Hindoo believes
that his soul in the next world is benefited by the blessings and
grateful feelings of those of his fellow creatures who unmolested eat
the fruit and enjoy the shade of the trees he has planted during his
sojourn in this world; and, unless he can feel assured that the
traveller and the public in general will be permitted to do so, he
can have no hope of any permanent benefit from his good work. It
might as well be cut down as pass into the hands of another person
who had no feeling of interest in the eternal repose of the soul of
the planter. That person would himself have no advantage in the next
world from giving the fruit and the shade of the trees to the public,
since the prayers of those who enjoyed them would be offered for the
soul of the planter, and not for his--he, therefore, takes all their
advantage to himself in this world, and the planter and the public
are defrauded. Our Government thought they had done enough to
encourage the renewal of these groves, when by a regulation they gave
to the present lessees of villages the privilege of planting them
themselves, or permitting others to plant them; but where they held
their leases for a term of only five years, of course they would be
unwilling to plant them. They might lose their lease when the term
expired, or forfeit it before; and the successor would have the land
on which the trees stood, and would be able to exclude the public, if
not the proprietor, from the enjoyment of any of their advantages.
Our Government has, in effect, during the thirty-five years that it
has held the dominion of the North-Western Provinces,[6] prohibited
the planting of mango groves, while the old ones are every year
disappearing. On the resumption of rent-free lands, even the ground
on which the finest of these groves stand has been recklessly
resumed, and the proprietors told me that they may keep the trees
they have, but cannot be allowed to renew them, as the lands are
become the property of Government. The lands of groves that have been
the pride of families for a century and a half have been thus
resumed. Government is not aware of the irreparable mischief they do
the country they govern by such measures.[7]

On my way back from Meerut, after the conversation already related
with the farmer of a small village (_ante_, chapter 58, text at [7]),
my tents were one day pitched, in the month of December, amidst some
very fine garden cultivation in the district of Aligarh;[8] and in
the evening I walked out as usual to have some talk with the
peasantry. I came to a neighbouring well at which four pair of
bullocks were employed watering the surrounding fields of wheat for
the market, and vegetables for the families of the cultivators. Four
men were employed at the well, and two more in guiding the water into
the little embanked squares into which they divide their fields.

I soon discovered that the most intelligent of the four was a Jat;
and I had a good deal of conversation with him as he stood landing
the leather buckets, as the two pair of bullocks on his side of the
well drew them to the top, a distance of forty cubits from the
surface of the water beneath.

'Who built this well?' I began.

'It was built by one of my ancestors, six generations ago.'

'How much longer will it last?'

'Ten generations more, I hope; for it is now just as good as when
first made. It is of 'pakka' bricks without mortar cement.'[9]

'How many waterings do you give?'

'If there should be no rain, we shall require to give the land six
waterings, as the water is sweet; had it been brackish four would do.
Brackish water is better for wheat than sweet water; but it is not so
good for vegetables or sugar-cane.'

'How many "bighas" are watered from this well?'

'We water twenty "bighas", or one hundred and five "jaribs", from
this well.'[10]

'And you pay the Government how much?'

'One hundred rupees, at the rate of five rupees the bigha. But only
the five immediately around the well are mine, the rest belong to
others.'

'But the well belongs to you; and I suppose you get from the
proprietors of the other fifteen something for your water?'

'Nothing. There is more water for my five bighas, and I give them
what they require gratis; they acknowledge that it is a gift from me,
and that is all I want.'

'And what does the land beyond the range of your water of the same
quality pay?'

'It pays at the rate of two rupees the bigha, and it is with
difficulty that they can be made to pay that. Water, sir, is a great
thing, and with that and manure we get good crops from the land.'[11]

'How many returns of the seed?'

'From these twenty bighas with six waterings, and cross ploughing,
and good manure, we contrive to get twenty returns; that is, if God
is pleased with us and blesses our efforts.'

'And you maintain your family comfortably out of the return from your
five?'

'If they were mine I could; but we had two or three bad seasons seven
years ago, and I was obliged to borrow eighty rupees from our banker
at 24 per cent., for the subsistence of my family. I have hardly been
able to pay him the interest with all I can earn by my labour, and I
now serve him upon two rupees a month.'

'But that is not enough to maintain you and your family?'

'No; but he only requires my services for half the day, and during
the other half I work with others to get enough for them.'

'And when do you expect to pay off your debt?'

'God only knows; if I exert myself, and keep a good "niyat" (pure
mind or intentions), he will enable me or my children to do so some
day or other. In the meantime he has my five bighas of land in
mortgage, and I serve him in the cultivation.'

'But under those misfortunes, you could surely venture to demand
something from the proprietors of the other fifteen bighas for the
water of your well?'

'Never, sir; it would be said all over the country that such an one
sold God's water for his neighbours' fields, and I should be ashamed
to show my face. Though poor, and obliged to work hard, and serve
others, I have still too much pride for that.'

'How many bullocks are required for the tillage of these twenty
bighas watered from your well?'

'These eight bullocks do all the work; they are dear now. This was
purchased the other day on the death of the old one, for twenty-six
rupees. They cost about fifty rupees a pair--the late famine has made
them dear.'[12]

'What did the well cost in making?'

'I have heard that it cost about one hundred and twenty rupees; it
would cost about that sum to make one of this kind in the present
day, not more.'

'How long have the families of your caste been settled in these
parts?'

'About six or seven generations; the country had before been occupied
by a peasantry of the Kalar caste. Our ancestors came, built up mud
fortifications, dug wells, and brought the country under cultivation;
it had been reduced to a waste; for a long time we were obliged to
follow the plough with our swords by our sides, and our friends
around us with their matchlocks in their hand, and their matches
lighted.'

'Did the water in your well fail during the late seasons of drought?'

'No, sir, the water of this well never fails.'

'Then how did bad seasons affect you?'

'My bullocks all died one after the other from want of fodder, and I
had not the means to till my lands; subsistence became dear, and to
maintain my family, I was obliged to contract the debt for which my
lands are now mortgaged. I work hard to get them back, and, if I do
not succeed, my children will, I hope, with the blessing of God.'[13]

The next morning I went on to Kaka, fifteen miles; and finding tents,
people, and cattle, without a tree to shelter them, I was much
pleased to see in my neighbourhood a plantation of mango and other
fruit-trees. It had, I was told, been planted only three years ago by
Hiraman and Motiram, and I sent for them, knowing that they would be
pleased to have their good work noticed by any European gentleman.
The trees are now covered with cones of thatch to shelter them from
the frost. The merchants came, evidently much pleased, and I had a
good deal of talk with them.

'Who planted this new grove?'

'We planted it three years ago.'

'What did your well cost you, and how many trees have you?'

'We have about four hundred trees, and the well has cost us two
hundred rupees, and will cost us two hundred more.'

'How long will you require to water them?'

'We shall require to water the mango and other large trees ten or
twelve years; but the orange, pomegranate, and other small trees will
always require watering.'

'What quantity of ground do the trees occupy?'

'They occupy twenty-two "bighas" of one hundred and five "jaribs". We
place them all twelve yards from each other, that is, the large
trees; and the small ones we plant between them.'

'How did you get the land?'

'We were many years trying in vain to get a grant from the Government
through the collector; at last we got him to certify on paper that,
if the landholder would give us land to plant our grove upon, the
Government would have no objection. We induced the landholder, who is
a constituent of ours, to grant us the land; and we made our well,
and planted our trees.'

'You have done a good thing; what reward do you expect?'

'We hope that those who enjoy the shade, the water, and the fruit,
will think kindly of us when they are gone. The names of the great
men who built the castles, palaces, and tombs at Delhi and Agra have
been almost all forgotten, because no one enjoys any advantage from
them; but the names of those who planted the few mango groves we see
are still remembered and blessed by all who eat of their fruit, sit
in their shade, and drink of their water, from whatever part of the
world they come. Even the European gentlemen remember their names
with kindness; indeed, it was at the suggestion of a European
gentleman, who was passing this place many years ago, and talking
with us as you are now, that we commenced this grove. "Look over this
plain," said he, "it has been all denuded of the fine groves with
which it was, no doubt, once studded; though it is tolerably well
cultivated, the traveller finds no shelter in it from the noonday
sun--even the birds seem to have deserted you, because you refuse
them the habitations they find in other parts of India." We told him
that we would have the grove planted, and we have done so; and we
hope God will bless our undertaking.'

'The difficulty of getting land is, I suppose, the reason why more
groves are not planted, now that property is secure?'

'How could men plant without feeling secure of the land they planted
upon, and when Government would not guarantee it? The landholder
could guarantee it only during the five years of lease;[14] and, if
at the end of that time Government should transfer the lease of the
estate to another, the land of the grove would be transferred with
it. We plant not for worldly or immediate profits, but for the
benefit of our souls in the next world--for the prayers of those who
may derive benefit from our works when we are gone. Our landholders
are good men, and will never resume the lands they have given us; and
if the lands be sold at auction by Government, or transferred to
others, we hope the certificate of the collector will protect us from
his grasp.'[15]

'You like your present Government, do you not?'

'We like it much. There has never been a Government that gave so much
security to life and property; all we want is a little more of public
service, and a little more of trade; but we have no cause to
complain; it is our own fault if we are not happy.'

'But I have been told that the people find the returns from the soil
diminishing, and attribute it to the perjury that takes place in our
courts occasionally.'

'That, sir, is no doubt true; there has been a manifest falling off
in the returns; and people everywhere think that you make too much
use of the Koran and the Ganges water in your courts. God does not
like to hear lies told upon one or other, and we are apt to think
that we are all punished for the sins of those who tell them. May we
ask, sir, what office you hold?'

'It is my office to do the work which God assigns to me in this
world.'

'The work of God, sir, is the greatest of all works, and those are
fortunate who are chosen to do it.'

Their respect for me evidently increased when they took me for a
clergyman. I was dressed in black.

'In the first place, it is my duty to tell you that God does not
punish the innocent for the guilty, and that the perjury in courts
has nothing to do with the diminution of returns from the soil. Where
you apply water and manure, and alternate your crops, you always get
good returns, do you not?'

'Very good returns; but we have had several bad seasons that have
carried away the greater part of our population; but a small portion
of our lands can be irrigated for want of wells, and we had no rain
for two or three years, or hardly any in due season; and it was this
deficiency of rain which the people thought a chastisement from
heaven.'