Part 2

But beauty was not always equally powerful to save. At another time, he came up with a beautiful young Moghulanee, travelling with an old female servant, mounted on a pony, an armed attendant, and six palanquin-bearers. The ill-fated damsel, unhappily for herself and her companions, became enamoured of the dashing, handsome young Thug. In vain he tried to shake her off, for he feared a scandal might arise if he, a Brahmin, had any improper intercourse with a Mussulmaunee. And the exchange of other than Platonic love would have saved her life. So at last he insisted that they should "take" her, and she was accordingly put to death. "It was her fate," he said, not excusing himself, but putting the matter in the right light, "It was her fate to die by our hands." Captain Sleeman, then asked Madar Buksh, who actually strangled the poor Moghulanee, if he had no pity for the beautiful young woman. "I had," he answered, "but I had undertaken the duty, and we must all have food." As if hurt by the enunciation of such a base practical motive, Feringeea here struck in, saying, "We all feel pity sometimes, but the _goor_ (consecrated coarse sugar) of the Tapoonee, (feast after a murder), changes our nature. It would change the nature of a horse. Let any man once taste of that _goor_, and he will be a Thug, though he knew all the trades and have all the wealth in the world. I never wanted food; my mother's family was opulent, her relations high in office: I have been high in office myself, and become so great a favourite wherever I went, that I was sure of promotion; yet I was always miserable while absent from my gang, and obliged to return to Thuggee. My father made me taste of that fatal _goor_ when I was yet a mere boy; and, if I were to live a thousand years, I should never be able to follow any other trade." The fascination of the abominable "trade" is almost incredible. There were many instances of Thugs enlisting into the Company's service, and making excellent soldiers; and yet, whenever an opportunity presented itself, they would get two parades' leave, join some of their old associates, commit as many murders as possible, and then, with satisfied feelings, return to their duty.

Feringeea, after the apprehension of his gang, could have escaped to other clans in Rajpootana and Telingana, "but," said he, "you had secured my mother, wife, and child: I could not forsake them--was always inquiring after them, and affording my pursuers the means of tracing me. I knew not what indignities my wife and mother might suffer. Could I have felt secure that they would suffer none, I should not have been taken." He was finally captured by two striplings, whom he could easily have overpowered, had he not imagined that they were supported by a party of police outside the hut, and that all resistance was therefore idle. At one period of his life, he was in General Ochterlony's service, and a great favourite with Sir David. His wife was not aware that he was a Thug. "Her family," he proudly remarked to Captain Sleeman, "are of the aristocracy of Jhansee and Sumtur, as you may know." His foster-brother, being informed the day before his execution, that his foster-mother had been arrested, earnestly begged, as a last favour, that he might have an interview with her as she was led to the scaffold. His request being granted, "he fell at the old woman's feet, and begged she would release him from the obligations of the milk with which she had nourished him, and the care with which she had cherished him from infancy, as he was about to die before he could fulfil any of them. She placed her hands on his head, and he knelt, and she said she forgave him all, and bid him die like a man." The sons were worthy of such mothers, heroic in their firm resolve. There is likewise on record one example of a woman, named Baroonee, who used to assist her husband to strangle his victims. Once she saved his life when nearly overpowered, by tightly pulling the _roomal_ round the neck of the struggling wretch, till he fell dead at her feet. Mothers frequently compelled their sons to go on Thuggee, and wives their husbands; and there was one woman in the Deccan, who kept a gang, though it does not appear that she ever accompanied them. Among the ancient male leaders none was more venerated than Dada Dheera, of the Bhursote clan, whose name was oft-times invoked over spiritual potations, at certain religious ceremonies. Next to him, was the Mooltanee leader, Jhora Naek, who, assisted only by his servant, Koduk Bunwaree, once strangled a man possessed of property to the value of £16,200. Instead of appropriating this valuable prize, he drove the mule home, assembled his neighbours, and distributed to each the share to which he would have been entitled had he been actually present at the murder. For this remarkable display of honour and self-denial, both he and his wife were canonized. The leadership was usually the reward of merit. "A man," said one of them, "who has always at command the means of advancing a month or two's subsistence to a gang, will be called a Jemadar; a strong, resolute man, whose ancestors have been for many generations Thugs, will soon get the title; or a very wise man, whose advice in difficult cases has weight with the gang; one who has influence over local authorities, or the native officers of courts of justice; a man of handsome appearance and high bearing, who can feign the man of rank well--all these things enable a man to get around him a few who will consent to give him the fees and title of Jemadar; but it requires very high and numerous qualifications to gain a man the title of Soobahdar."

It is now time to consider what omens were good, what bad, in the eyes of this strange fraternity. There does not seem to have been any particular reason for deciding on the hidden meaning of the incidents that were supposed to be sent to regulate their conduct. The division of tokens and prodigies into auspicious and adverse was, indeed, most arbitrary and capricious, and can scarcely in any one instance be accounted for. The good were not so numerous as the bad, for even these habitual murderers gladly clutched at any excuse for evading the necessity of taking human life. Very promising was it, on first setting out, to meet a woman, carrying on her head a pitcher full of water: they then felt assured of a happy return to their homes, especially if she happened to be with child. Still better was it to hear an ass bray on the left hand, and then on the right; the expedition might last for years, it would always be attended with success; it passed into a proverb--_Sou puk, heroo ek dunteroo_,--"One ass is worth a hundred birds." Another proverb,--_Baean geedee sona leedee_, intimated, that "a jackal, crossing from right to left, brings gold." To rhymed sayings of this kind they were partial, as an assistant to memory. Here is a more elaborate instance:

Ratee bolee teetura, Din ko bolee seear, Tuj chulee wa deysra, Nuheen puree achanuk dhar.

That is, being interpreted, "If the partridge call at night, or the jackal during the day, quit that country, or you will be seized." Immediate and valuable booty might be expected, if the large hill-crow were heard croaking on a tree, with a river or tank in sight; but the reverse was the case, if the bird were seated on a live buffalo or pig, or on the skeleton of any dead animal. Pleasant, too, was the prospect, if a cat came prowling to their encampment by night; and equally cheering to see a wolf, or a shrike, crossing the road from the right to the left; or a large male antelope, or a herd of small deer, or the blue jay, crossing from left to right. It was good to hear the hare calling at night, upon the left, or the loud, continued hooting of the small owl, when sitting; or the call of the partridge, on the left, while travelling, and on the right, while halting. If a herd of deer came in sight, they looked, ere long, to fall in with another gang of Thugs. The call of the sarus was the most variable of all. It was very encouraging if heard first on the left, and then on the right, on opening an expedition, and also on reaching a stage, if heard on the right; if repeated on the left, a rich prize was at hand, but ill luck was betokened if it first sounded on the left; equally inauspicious was the cry heard on the right, on leaving a stage, unless preceded on the left. The most frequent reference was to Pilhaoo and Thibaoo; by the former was meant the voice or appearance of omen-endowed animals on the left hand, by the latter, that on the right. If the Pilhaoo were good, it was improved by being followed by the Thibaoo; if evil, the danger was in like manner diminished. Unless both were obtained before setting out, the expedition was deferred to a later season. On leaving a stage, the Pilhaoo was full of promise,--the Thibaoo of warning; a rule that was reversed on reaching a halting ground.

On the other hand, if a turban fell off, or caught fire, the gang returned home, if at no great distance, and remained quiet for seven days; otherwise, they offered up _goor_ (coarse sugar), and the owner of the turban alone retraced his steps. An expedition had also to be re-commenced, if on the first day or night it encountered the Ansootare, literally, "tear drops;" that is, a shower of rain falling in the dry season, or in any month save June, July, August, and September; nor could any success be anticipated if it thundered, with little or no rain, when a gang was ready to set out. A very dreadful omen was the cry of the kite, heard during the interval between the first watch and day-break. All would then start to their feet, and betake themselves to hurried flight; though no alarm was entertained if the cry were heard between sunset and the end of the first watch, because then "the omen was suffocated under their sides as they turned in their sleep." Hardly less disastrous was a lizard falling upon a Thug; any garment that it touched must be given away in charity. Nothing but ill luck followed the meeting a maimed person, or an oil-vender, or a woman bearing an empty water-jar, or a leper, or any one emaciated by sickness; to meet a donkey face to face, was called Mataphore, or "the head-breaker." It was of evil import to see a jackal, or a wolf, cross the road from left to right, or a large male antelope, or small deer, from right to left. If a snake crossed either behind or in front of the gang, they must kill it or return home; in either case sacrifices were required. The sight of two jackals crossing the road together, in front, foretold prison and chains. The call of one jackal was bad; the general clamour, or "lamentation" of a pack, still worse; but the short, broken cry of that animal, or the noise of several fighting, rendered it necessary to take to precipitate flight. It was ill-omened to hear the call of the kite while flying, or that mournful sound known as the "weeping" of the wolf, or the low hooting of the small owl, repeated two or three times; or the loud responsive cry of two large owls, or the low clicking sound of that bird, or the slight chirp of the small owl, either sitting or flying. If any member of the gang sneezed, either on first setting out, or on leaving a halting-ground, expiatory sacrifices were offered, and all travellers then in their power were allowed to escape. Were a dog seen to shake its head, no Thug would dream of executing any design he might previously have formed.

It was also unlucky to hear cats fighting in the day-time, or after the first watch at night; or the low gurgling of the large owl, which somewhat resembles the bubbling of a hookah. If this sound were observed on first setting out, the expedition was postponed for several days; if, afterwards, on the left, the gang hurried on, for there was danger behind; if on the right, they halted, for there was danger before them. But probably, no omen was more dreaded than the sight, or the cry, of a hare. Unless a sacrifice was immediately offered, they were certain to perish miserably in the jungles, and the wild animals of the forest would drink water out of their skulls: should they impiously plunder any traveller then with them, they would obtain no booty. One of the most intelligent approvers ascribed his apprehension on one occasion to his neglect of this omen. "A hare crossed the road," he said, "we disregarded the omen--though the hare actually screamed in crossing--and went on." On the following day he and seventeen of his associates were arrested, and only obtained their release after a long detention.

It has been already stated that the Thugs attributed their recent misfortunes to their want of "religion" in neglecting omens, and disregarding the restrictions assigned to their homicidal duties. Their evasions of the latter were sometimes humorous. They were forbidden to destroy any one accompanied by a woman or a cow. But a party of fourteen, possessing both these safeguards, once fell into the hands of a gang at Kotree, in Huttah, and were persuaded by the Thugs to sell the cow to them, as they had made a vow to present one to the Brahmans at Shahpore. They did actually fulfil their pretended vow, but not until they had strangled, without any remaining compunction, every one of their unsuspecting victims, not even excepting the female. According to the approvers, the practice of killing women had prevailed only five years, and became one great cause of their ruin. The principal reluctance to woman-slaughter was entertained by the Hindoos--the Mussulmauns, perhaps, from their larger experience of the sex, showing little inclination to spare them. On a certain occasion a Hindoo lady, called the Kalee Beebee, was met by a gang as she travelled in a dooly (a sort of litter), accompanied by twelve dependents. The Thugs having discovered that she had £400 worth of property with her, her death was insisted upon by the Mussulmauns, and as strenuously objected to by the Hindoos. Thereupon a violent quarrel arose between them, which was only appeased by the former perpetrating the deed by themselves. The Hindoos, however, did not refuse to share in the plunder, save only the lady's personal ornaments and clothes. One of them, a Brahman, named Purusram, was shunned by his own brother until he expiated his guilt by feasting several hundred Brahmans at a great expense. Another member of the gang, also a Brahman, "got worms in his body, and died barking like a dog." A third died miserably, and the families of all became extinct.

A more horrible instance of woman-slaughter appears to have escaped unpunished, at least for a time. The Moonshee, Bunda Alee, in company with his wife, an infant daughter, and six servants, was taking to her bridegroom another daughter who had attained to a connubial age. On the journey he fell in with a numerous gang of Thugs, the leaders of whom contrived to ingratiate themselves with the Moonshee's party, and all travelled on together. One evening towards dusk some of the Thugs seated themselves, as usual, with the Moonshee at his tent door, and began to sing and play on the sitar. One of them presently took up the Moonshee's sword, which was lying on the ground at his feet, as if to examine it. The signal was then suddenly given, but the Moonshee sprung to his feet, screamed aloud, and tried to rush into the tent, but was instantly seized and strangled. His wife, hearing his shrieks, came running out with the infant in her arms, and shared his fate. The bride was put to death within the tent. The servants were at that moment engaged in grooming the horses, and one of them crept under a horse's belly and lustily bawled out "murder!" but they were all quickly silenced by the fatal noose. Ghubboo Khan, who had murdered the mother, intended to adopt the infant, but was dissuaded by one of his comrades who pointed out that it might lead to their discovery. He therefore threw the child alive into the hole in which the dead bodies were already deposited, and the earth was hastily shovelled in upon the living and the dead. While this dreadful scene was enacting, a number of Khulasies were, within sight, occupied in pitching the tents of the European officers commanding a detachment of troops marching along the road. The Thugs, however, had taken care to play and sing, at the top of their voice, as soon as the butchery commenced, while others let loose two vicious horses and chased them with vociferous shouting, so as effectually to drown the cries of their victims.

The five years assigned as the duration of feminicide was simply a euphuism; it prevailed through a very much longer period. In 1816 a party of eighteen men and seven women were strangled near Shikarpore, but the Thugs spared two boys, one of whom, however, cried so bitterly and made so much moaning, that a ruffian seized him by the legs, swung him round, and dashed out his brains against a stone. The dead body was carelessly left lying on the ground, till a fisherman, passing that way, happened to see it, and went and reported the circumstance to the Thakoor Burjore Sing, of Powae. Guided by this clue, the Thakoor discovered the bodies of all the victims, and, collecting as many men as possible, gave chase to the murderers. Following their fresh traces he came up with them while washing themselves in a stream near the village of Tigura. Forming into a compact body, the Thugs retired upon the village, being repeatedly charged by the Thakoor's party, who ran one of them through the chest with a spear and sabred another. The villagers, however, expecting a share of the booty, turned out to the rescue of the Thugs and repulsed their assailants. Next morning they escorted them to the neighbouring village of Simareea, where they received the like sympathy and protection. This was no extraordinary occurrence, for the natives generally regarded the Thugs as a fraternity especially favoured by heaven. They would as soon have thought of destroying a snake or a wolf, or of opposing in any other way the decrees of Providence. The police, to save themselves trouble, and partly also from a secret dread of these mysterious and ruthless beings, used to declare that the dead bodies occasionally found in ravines, wells, and dry watercourses had been killed by tigers, and would burn them in all haste lest the marks of strangulation should be detected by their superiors. In the Deccan the task of suppression was rendered doubly difficult by the sullen opposition of the native chiefs, who sometimes even ventured to maltreat the police officers of the British Government. The Zemindars, or landowners, were always ready to give any amount of security for Thugs, against whom there was no sufficient evidence to justify their punishment. "They knew us very well," said an approver, "but they had then confidence in us; they thought we should keep our own secrets, and, if we did so, no one else would be able to convict us, and get them into trouble. Yes, there was then something like religion and good faith among us, and we found friends everywhere. Where could we find them now?" The Zemindars eagerly afforded them protection, because of the enormous rent they were wont to pay for their lands and villages. Valuable presents, also, were frequently made to them, at the same time that the Thugs engaged not to compromise their patrons by committing murder too near home. The Khyrooa chief once stood a siege from his lord, the Rajah of Jhansee, before he would surrender some eight or ten villains who had thrown themselves on his protection. And the Maharajah of Gwalior was obliged to send two guns and a small army against the Zemindar, or "laird," of Bahmanpora, to make him give up some Thugs whom he patronised; the firing lasted for some hours, and several lives were lost on both sides. Even those who affected to punish the miscreants, seldom touched their persons except to extort from them their ill-got treasures. They would seize one or two of the youngest, tie them up, and flog them till they confessed, or until the gang, in pity for their sufferings, pledged themselves to make up a certain sum, leaving two or three of their number as hostages. They were then released, and allowed to pursue their profession as before.

In the year 1812, soon after the murder of Lieutenant Monsell, a number of Thugs were arrested by certain Zemindars and grievously beaten, in the hope of making them bid high for their release. Their excessive cupidity, however, defeated its own ends. During their thirteen months imprisonment, forty of the Thugs perished from the dampness of their dungeon, combined with the ill-treatment they endured. The survivors insisted that their comrades were tortured to death by a demon, who entered the prison every night during the wet season. "I saw him," said one of them, "only once myself. I was awake while all the rest were asleep; he came in at the door, and seemed to swell as he came in till his head touched the roof, and the roof was very high, and his bulk became enormous. I prostrated myself, and told him that 'he was our Purmesur (great God), and we poor helpless mortals depending entirely upon his will.' This pleased him, and he passed by me; but took such a grasp at the man Mungulee, who slept by my side, that he was seized with spasms all over, from the nape of the neck to the sole of his foot." Of the Zemindars, who caused this atrocious suffering, he added, "not a soul of their families is now left to pour the libation at their funeral obsequies." How like is this to the glorious old Grecian idea of the avenging Nemesis! In truth, this was the only sort of justice administered in India during the supremacy of its native rulers--the golden age, according to the gentlemen of the Manchester school.

The Thugs made use of a peculiar dialect, called Ramasee, which was understood by the members of the fraternity throughout Hindostan, at Mooltan as at Arcot. The signification of the word Thug itself is "a deceiver;" they were likewise called Phanseegars, from the Hindostanee word Phansee, "a handkerchief." One Thug could always recognise another by his salutation _Aulae Khan, Salam_, if addressed to a Mussulmaun; or _Aulae Bhae, Ram, Ram_, if addressed to a Hindoo, equivalent to "Peace be with thee, friend!" A few specimens of their phraseology, selected from Captain Sleeman's Thug vocabulary, may be not altogether devoid of interest.