My Experiences in Manipur and the Naga Hills Part 4

Knowing the servant difficulties in the province of a.s.sam, we had brought servants with us from Almorah, men who had implored us to take them. When I consented to do so I voluntarily raised their wages from fifty to eighty per cent. above what they had been receiving, but with the exception of a Dhobee (washerman), and a bearer (a compound of housemaid and valet), they all became corrupted by the other servants they met at s.h.i.+llong, and who spoke of Manipur in very disparaging terms, so before going farther I let them go, as they demanded an enormous increase of wages.

The Dhobee Nunnoo, and the bearer Horna, stuck to me to the very last, and proved admirable servants. It was fortunate that we had servants, as there were none at Thuria Ghat rest house; as it was, we managed very well, and were prepared to march in the morning before the coolies were ready to take up our luggage. We had a tiring march up the hill to Cherra Poojee; my wife and the children were in baskets on men's backs, but I was on foot and felt the march in the intense heat to be very fatiguing, though we halted to rest half-way. However, when we reached the plateau of Cherra Poojee, 4000 feet above Thuria Ghat, the cool air speedily set me right, and we all enjoyed the scenery, hills, plains, waterfalls in abundance, deep valleys, and the lowlands of Sylhet, covered with water, as far as the eye could reach. We had a comfortable bungalow to rest in, and a cool night at last.

Next day we marched to Moflung, 6000 feet above the sea, and then to s.h.i.+llong, where for the next few days we were hospitably entertained by the Chief Commissioner, Colonel (now General) Keatinge, V.C., C.S.I., who kindly sent a carriage to meet us on the road. As Colonel Keatinge wished me to remain at s.h.i.+llong for a time, and meet Mr. Carnegy, political officer in the Naga Hills, who was coming there later on, I arranged to stay, and took a house; so we settled down comfortably till the early part of October--a very pleasant arrangement for us instead of facing the intense heat of the Cachar Valley in August. It gave me a good opportunity of looking over the records of the Chief Commissioner's office, where I found much relating to Manipur, but I fear that it was lost when the Record Office was burnt down some years ago, the copies also having been destroyed in Manipur during the rebellion of 1891. At last the day for leaving came, and we packed up our things and prepared once more to set off on our travels.

Before leaving, I paid several visits to Colonel McCulloch, who, since retiring from the service, had established himself at s.h.i.+llong, and asked his advice on many points, and learned much from him regarding Manipur. He very kindly gave his opinion freely on all questions, telling me where some of my predecessors had failed, and pointing out the pitfalls to be avoided. He added to all his kindness by writing to the Maharajah, and telling him that, from what he had seen of me, he was sure it would be his fault if we did not get on together.

CHAPTER VII.

Start for Manipur--March over the hills--Lovely scenery--View of the valleys--State reception--The Residency--Visitors.

Lowremba Subadar, an excellent old fellow, formerly in the service of Colonel McCulloch, was sent to s.h.i.+llong to be in attendance on me, and of course to find out all he could about me and report the result. Before I left, he sent a note to the Maharajah of my requirements in the way of coolies, etc., for our long journey of ten days between Cachar and Manipur, and I also intimated that, as the representative of the British Government, and as one who well knew what was due to me as such, I should expect to be received with proper ceremony.

This was a point on which I laid much stress, as my experience had taught me that in a native state so tenacious of its dignity and ancient customs as Manipur, my future success depended in a great measure on my scrupulously requiring all that I was ent.i.tled to, and as much more as I could get. It had been a complaint against one of my predecessors that he had been discourteous, and I determined that the Manipuris should not have to complain of me on that score, and in my letters I took care to be as courteous and considerate as possible.

On former occasions it had been the custom for a new political agent to enter the capital unattended, and to call on the Maharajah the next day, the latter repaying the visit a day later. This I did not consider sufficient, and I determined that he should come out to meet me in state. When Colonel McCulloch returned to Manipur the second time, this had been done, Colonel McCulloch being an old and intimate friend of the Maharajah. I quoted this as a precedent. I tried in vain to get the Foreign Department to back up my request, but could not induce them to interfere on my behalf, so I took the responsibility on myself, and sent a formal demand to the Maharajah to send a high officer--a major commanding a regiment--to meet me on the road, and to meet me himself in state at a suitable distance from the capital. The result will be described.

All being ready we left s.h.i.+llong, my wife, nurse and children on men's backs as before, for Cherra Poojee, where we arrived the second day; thence, on the third day, we went to Thuria Ghat, on by boat via Bholagunj, to Sylhet and Cachar. We reached Cachar on October 17th, after pa.s.sing the historical fort of Budderpore, where a battle was fought with the Burmese in 1825, and settled down in the bungalow of our kind friend Major Boyd who was away. Our coolies arrived on October 18th, and we again packed our things and prepared to depart on our final march.

We left Cachar for Manipur on October 20th, my wife and the nurse and boys in "doolies," a kind of tray four feet long by two in width, with sides and ends eight inches in height, supported by two long poles running along the bottom of each side, and slung at each end to loose bars of wood carried on men's shoulders. The pa.s.senger sits inside as best he can, and there is a light matting roof thrown over to protect him from the weather. To begin with, it is an uncomfortable and shaky conveyance, but in time one gets accustomed to it.

Our baggage was carried mostly on men's backs, each load varying from sixty to seventy pounds in weight. Altogether we had, I daresay, one hundred coolies, as everything we required for a ten days' journey had to be carried, in addition to personal baggage and stores for our use on arrival. I had provided a tent in case of need, but did not use it, as rude huts were provided for us at all the stages along the road. Our first halt was at Luckipore, in British territory, and, as usual, the first march was the most trying; for servants, coolies, etc., have to learn each other's ways. I had an escort of one hundred men of the 35th Native Infantry, under a subadar, as it was expected that I might have to go on an expedition soon after my arrival, and these men had their own special coolies, so we were a large party altogether.

We halted at Luckipore, as I have said, a few miles from the Hoorung Hills and at Jeree Ghat. Next day we left British territory and entered Manipur, where we found some huts built for our accommodation. At Jeree Ghat the really interesting part of the journey commenced; thence, till Bissenpore in the valley of Manipur is reached, the traveller marches day after day over hills and across rivers. The first day from Jeree Ghat we crossed the Noon-jai-bang range, the summit of which is 1800 to 1900 feet above the sea from whence a fine view of the next range, Kala Naga or in Manipuri, Wy-nang-nong, is obtained. The road which was made under the superintendence of Captain (afterwards Colonel) Guthrie, of the Bengal Engineers between 1837 and 1844, at the joint expense of the British and Manipuri Governments, the former paying the larger share, was excellent for foot pa.s.sengers and pack animals, but not wide enough and too steep for wheeled traffic on a large scale.

After descending from Noong-jai-bang we halted on the banks of the Mukker river amidst splendid forest, and next day ascended the Kala Naga range and halted on the crest close to a Manipuri guard house at a height of 3400 feet.

From this spot a magnificent view of the plains of Cachar is obtained, and in fine weather, far beyond them the Kasia hills in the neighbourhood of Cherra Poojee may be descried. The scene at sunset is sometimes magnificent. In the foreground the dark forests, and in the far distance a huge bank of golden clouds with their reflection in the watery plain, and a mingled ma.s.s of colours, green fields, purple, crimson, red and gold, all mixed up in such a way as no painter would ever attempt to copy. As the sun sinks those colours change and re-arrange themselves every minute in quick succession, and when at last night closes in, the impression left on the mind is one of never-ending wonder and admiration.

From Kala Naga to the Barak river is a very stiff descent, calculated to shake the knees of an inexperienced hill-walker, and many is the toe-nail lost by the pressure of one's boots. Here as at the Mukker and other rivers farther on, the Barak is crossed by cane suspension bridges, which vibrate and move at every step. In the dry season these rivers are crossed by very cleverly constructed bamboo pontoon bridges, but when the rainy season has commenced, they become raging torrents, which nothing but a fish could live in, and but for the suspension bridges, all communication with the outer world would be cut off. The bridge over the Eerung river was one hundred yards in length, and like all the others, was, when I first went to Manipur, constructed entirely of cane and bamboo, and could by great exertions, be finished in three days. During my period of office, wire ropes were subst.i.tuted for the two main cables on which all rested, and the strength of the bridges greatly increased thereby. It was an important part of my duty to see that both roads and bridges were kept in order.

Our march was interesting but uneventful. We started after breakfast and generally reached our halting place in time for a late luncheon or afternoon tea. Wherever we halted we had a hut to live in, generally in some picturesque spot, one day giving a splendid view of hill and valley with nothing but forests in view, on another we were perched on a hill overlooking the beautiful Kowpoom valley, a sheet of cultivation. At last, on the ninth day after crossing the Lai-metol river, and ascending the Lai-metol, we had our first view of the valley of Manipur [14] spread out like a huge map at our feet. Seen as it was by us at the end of the rainy season, and from a height of 2600 feet above it, is a vast expanse of flat land bordered by hills, and mostly covered with water, through which the rice crops are vigorously growing. To the south the Logtak lake is visible, with several island hills in it, while far away to the north-east might be seen the glittering roofs of the temples of Imphal, the capital. It requires time to take in the view and to appreciate it. In the dry season it looks very different with brown, dried-up hills in the place of green.

The valley of Manipur possesses a few sacred groves, left, according to the universal aboriginal custom, throughout all parts of India that I have visited, for the wood spirits, when the land was first cleared; but no natural forest. These groves are little isolated patches of forest dotted here and there; the villages have plenty of planted trees, many of great antiquity, and from the heights above they have the appearance of woodland covered with gra.s.s. Besides this, all is one sheet of cultivation or waste covered with gra.s.s. It was once entirely cultivated, that is, before the Burmese invasion of 1819, when the population of the valley, was from 500 to 1000 per square mile.

We halted to rest on the summit of the Lai-metol, and then descended, pa.s.sing sometimes under a kind of wild apple tree with very eatable fruit, and once through a lovely grove of oak trees, called "Oui-ong-Moklung," and then, still far below us, saw some elephants sent for us by the Maharajah. These elephants were posted at Sebok Tannah, [15] a police station where the ground begins to grow level, and a mile farther brought us to Bissenpore, where there was a rude rest house. Here we halted for the night.

I have mentioned my demand that I should be met with proper ceremony. It was of course stoutly resisted, every argument founded on old custom, etc., being used against it. However, I stood firm, and absolutely refused to go beyond Bissenpore, till the Maharajah gave me an a.s.surance that he would do all I required. In the end he gave in, and a day before reaching that place, his uncle met me on the road with a letter saying that all should be done as I wished. This official, by name Samoo Major, became a great friend of mine, and remained so till I finally left; he is, alas, I believe, now a prisoner in the Andamans, having been supposed to be implicated in the rising in 1891.

The next day we left Bissenpore in good time, and marched the seventeen miles to the capital, halting half-way at Phoiching, where I was met by some officials. Farther on, some of still higher rank came to greet me, and finally, at the entrance to the capital, I was met by the Maharajah himself, surrounded by all his sons. A carpet was spread with chairs for him and myself, we both of us having descended from our elephants, advanced and met in the centre of the carpet, and having made our salutations (a salute of eleven guns was fired in my honour), we sat and talked for two minutes. We then mounted, the Maharajah's elephant being driven by his third son, the master of the elephants; and we rode together through the great bazaar, till our roads diverged at the entrance to the fortified enclosure to the palace, where we took leave of each other, and he went home, and I went to the Residency, which I reached at four o'clock, my wife and children having made a short cut.

The Residency then was a low and dark bungalow built of wattle and daub, and thatched. It had one large room in the centre, and a bedroom on either side with a small semicircular room in front and rear of the centre room; there was one bathroom (I speedily added more), and verandahs nearly all round. There were venetians to the windows, but no gla.s.s, and the house was very dark and very full of mosquitoes. However, all had been done by the Residency establishment to make the place comfortable, and we were too old travellers and too accustomed to rough it, to grumble. The house might be rude and uncomfortable, but some of my happiest days were spent in it. The building was at the end of a garden, with some nice mango, and other trees here and there, and had a little more ground attached to it, but we were on all sides surrounded by squalid villages and filthy tanks and cesspools, and the situation was very low, though well drained. Our English nurse grumbled incessantly, but we had engaged in advance, a nice pleasant Naga woman, named Chowkee, to help her, and soon made everything right for the night, but the mosquitoes were terrible, and though my life has been spent in countries swarming with them, I give Manipur the palm, it beats all others!

No European lady or children of pure blood had ever before been seen in Manipur, and at first there was great excitement wherever we went, all the population turning out to look at us. By degrees they became accustomed to the novelty, but still occasionally people from distant villages coming to the capital stopped to stare. Every now and then my wife had visits from strange old ladies, often from the Kola Ranee, the widow of the last Rajah of a.s.sam, and by birth a Manipuri princess, daughter of Rajah Chomjeet, and first cousin of the Maharajah Chandra Kirtee Singh. Once an old woman of 106 years of age, with a daughter of 76, were visitors, and once or twice some other relic of a bygone age called on us. Among the latter was old Ram Singh, the last survivor of Wilc.o.x's famous survey expeditions in a.s.sam, in 1825-26-27-28. Wilc.o.x was one of the giants of old, men who with limited resources, did a vast amount of work among wild people, and said little about it, being contented with doing their duty. In 1828, accompanied by Lieutenant Burton, and ten men belonging to the Sudya Khamptis (Shans), he penetrated to the Bor Khamptis country, far beyond our borders, an exploit not repeated till after our annexation of Upper Burmah. Ram Singh had a great respect for his former leader, and loved to talk of old days.

CHAPTER VIII.

Visit to the Maharajah--His minister--Former revolutions--Thangal Major.

After a day's rest I paid a visit to the Maharajah, having first stipulated as to my proper reception. I was received by the Jubraj (heir apparent) at the entrance to the private part of the palace, and by the Maharajah a few paces from the entrance to the Durbar room (hall of reception), and conducted by him to a seat opposite to his own, with a table between us, his sons and officials being seated on either side. I read the Viceroy's letter, informing the Maharajah of my appointment, and, after a short conversation, during which my age was asked (a question invariably put to European officers by Manipuris of rank), I took my leave, and was escorted back to the place where I was met on my arrival. I was favourably impressed by what I saw, but I at once realised that I was on no bed of roses, and that I would have to make a good fight to obtain and maintain my just influence with the Durbar. The Maharajah had undoubtedly grievances against us, and I felt that it was folly and injustice not to acknowledge these. At the same time, he and his ministers had on some occasions taken advantage of this state of affairs to behave in an unseemly way, and for this a sharp rebuke had to be administered. The natural sense of injustice is strong in mankind, and I saw that chafing under slights they had received, and often magnifying them, it was necessary for me first to acknowledge these, and try as far as possible to make amends, and then to come down on them very sharply for having forgotten their position.

The Maharajah returned my visit, and we had one or two interviews when we discussed affairs. I pointed out the extreme gravity of resisting the British Government in any way, and we soon became very friendly. Colonel McCulloch's introduction had been a great advantage to me, and every one was inclined to give me credit for good intentions, at the same time that every effort was made to restrict my authority and influence.

The Maharajah was a rather thick-set man of about five feet five inches in height and forty-five years of age. In India he would have been called fair. He had the features of the Indo-Chinese race, and the impa.s.sive face that generally goes with them, but which is often not so marked in the Manipuris. He was far the ablest man in his dominions, and a strong and capable ruler. He had a great taste for mechanical arts of all kinds, and a vast fund of information which he had acquired by questioning, for he questioned every one he met. English scientific works were explained to him, and his researches extended even to the anatomy of the human body, of which he had a very fair knowledge. He had a taste for European articles, and owned a large a.s.sortment. He had gla.s.s manufactured in his workshops, and once sent me a petroleum lamp, every portion of which was made by his own artificers. His rule, for such a strong man, was mild as compared with that of his predecessors, and he thoroughly realised that his prosperity depended on his loyalty to the British Government. At the same time, he was most tenacious of his rights, and earnestly desired to preserve his country intact, and to give us no excuse for annexing it.

The fear of tempting us to annex was so great that, once when I thought of growing a little tea for my own consumption, he was much agitated. I, as a matter of courtesy, first sent to ask him if he had any objection to my growing a little, and, in reply, he sent an official to beg me not to think of it. This man said, "The Maharajah will supply you with all the tea you want free of cost, but begs you not to think of growing it." The officer went on to explain, that it was feared that, if I successfully demonstrated that tea could be grown in Manipur tea planters would come up, and there would be a cry for annexation! Certainly our annexation of the Muttuk country in 1840 justified the suspicion, and we cannot blame people for having long memories.

The Jubraj, or heir apparent, was an amiable young man of twenty-six or twenty-seven, with a pleasant smile which was wanting in his father. He was of a weak character, although possessing some ability. Like his father, he could speak Hindoostani, but both were ignorant of English. Backed up and influenced by an honest and capable Political Agent, he would probably have made an excellent ruler, and, had we done our duty by him, he might now be at the head of a flouris.h.i.+ng little state, instead of having died an exile in Calcutta.

The next son, w.a.n.kai Rakpar, afterwards known as the "Regent" during the recent troubles, was an ignorant, uncouth boor, who knew no language but his own, and was quite unfitted for any responsible work; he took little part in public affairs. The third known as Samoo Henjaba (Master of the Elephants), was a clever, pleasant, sensible young man, said by Thangal Major, no mean judge of character, to be the ablest of the ten sons of the Maharajah. He died during my tenure of office.

The fourth son, Kotwal Koireng, who afterwards acquired an infamous reputation as the "Senaputtee," was always a bad character, cruel, coa.r.s.e, and low minded. From early childhood he was given to foul language, and was absolutely dangerous when he grew up. His mother had been unfaithful to the Maharajah, who used to say that the son was worthy of her. Colonel McCulloch had always disliked him as a boy.

None of the other six sons of the Maharajah were in my time mixed up in public affairs, so I need not describe them, except that Pucca Senna was the champion polo player, though not otherwise worthy of notice. The practical ministers were Bularam Singh, or Sawai Jamba Major, and Thangal Major. They were both faithful adherents of the Maharajah, although the first who had once had much influence had married the daughter of the former Rajah Nur Sing. He was nominally the first in rank, but Thangal Major was rapidly gaining ground, and viewed with increasing favour by the Maharajah.

I quote the following description of the Government of Manipur from an article I wrote for The Nineteenth Century, by kind permission of the editor. "The government of Manipur has always been a pure despotism tempered by a.s.sa.s.sination and revolution. While he occupies the throne the rajah is perfectly absolute. A minister may be all powerful, and all the princes and people may tremble before him; for years he may practically rule the rajah; but he is after all a cipher before his sovereign, a single word from whom may send him into exile, make him an outcast, or reduce him to the lowest rank. Yet with all this power an obscure man may suddenly spring up, as if from the ground, to a.s.sert himself to be of the blood royal, and gathering a large party round him place himself on the throne. All this happened not unfrequently in days gone by, when many were the rajahs murdered or deposed. History tells us of rajahs being deposed, re-elected, and deposed again."

There can be no doubt that in old days the people benefited by the system of constant revolutions, as a rajah was obliged to keep in touch with his subjects if he wished to occupy the throne for any length of time, and many concessions were made to gain a strong following. The average intelligence of the Manipuris being higher than that found among the cultivators of many other native states, the people knew what reforms to ask for, and often insisted on their being granted.

Nothing can be harder on the people of a native state, than for the paramount power to hold a ruler on the throne with a firm grasp, and protect him against internal revolution, and at the same time to refrain from insisting on needful reform.

Chandra Kirtee Singh's long reign and strong government, were in many ways a great benefit to the people, because he was a man of sound sense, and though selfish and unscrupulous, naturally of a kindly disposition, a fact proved by the few executions that took place in his reign. In his earlier years he had the benefit of Colonel McCulloch's good advice, enforced by his great influence. All the same there can be no doubt that a little more interference judiciously applied, would have vastly improved the state of affairs during the time he occupied the throne. Of course an individual Political Agent might bring about improvements in the administration, but these all rested on his personal influence and lasted only while he remained. Had the Government of India stepped in and exerted its authority they would have been permanent.

Bularam Singh was a typical Manipuri in face and had good manners, but he had no force of character, and gradually yielded to his more able colleague. He was generally known as the Toolee-Hel major, i.e., the major or commander of the Hel regiment.

Thangal Major was a remarkable character, and had a chequered history. His uncle had saved the life of Rajah Ghumbeer Singh (Chandra Kirtee Singh's father), then a child, when his older brother Marjeet attempted the murder of all his relations. Thangal Major was one of the props of the throne when Ghumbeer Singh ascended it. He had been introduced at Court at an early age, and accompanied the Rajah in an expedition against the village of Thangal inhabited by a tribe of Nagas. He was given the name Thangal in memory of the event. He accompanied the old Ranee with her infant son Chandra Kirtee Singh into exile, when she fled after attempting the Regent Nursing's life while he was engaged in wors.h.i.+p in the temple of Govindjee in 1844; had stayed with him and carefully watched over his childhood and youth. When in 1850 the young Rajah came to Manipur to a.s.sert his rights, Thangal accompanied him and greatly contributed to his success. This naturally made him a favourite, and his bold, active, energetic character always brought him to the front when hard or dangerous work had to be done. For a time he fell into disfavour, but Colonel McCulloch, recognising his strong and useful qualities, and the fact that he was an exceedingly able man, interceded for him with the Maharajah, and he again came to the front. In person he was short and thickset, darker than the average of Manipuris, with piercing eyes and rather a prominent nose, a pleasant and straightforward but abrupt manner, and, though a very devoted and patriotic Manipuri, was extremely partial to Europeans. He knew our ways well, and soon took a man's measure. He was acquainted with every part of Manipur, and, though ignorant of English, could point out any village in the state, on an English map. In fact, he had studied geography in every branch to enable him to defend the cause of Manipur against the survey officers who were suspected by the Manipuris of wis.h.i.+ng to include all they could within British territory. He knew all our technical terms such as "watershed" in English, and had gained much credit for enabling the survey to carry on their work in 1872, when the patriotic but ill-judged zeal of an older officer, Rooma Singh, nearly brought about a rupture. Thangal Major's knowledge of us and our customs, as well as of our moral code, was astonis.h.i.+ng. He realised the power of the British Government, and though he would resist us to the utmost in the interests of Manipur, nothing would have induced him to join in any plot against our rule in India. When I say that he was unscrupulous and capable of anything, I only say that he was what circ.u.mstances and education had made him, and would make any man under similar conditions. He had not the polish of a native of Western India, and had not had the advantage of English training that many ministers in other states have. The internal administration of Manipur had never been interfered with by us, and Thangal Major was the strong able man of the old type. A strong and capable political agent might do well with him, but a weak one would soon go to the wall. He commanded the Toolee Nehah, and was often called by that t.i.tle, but was better known as Thangal Major.

One of my predecessors had quarrelled with Thangal Major, and this had led to recrimination, and very unseemly conduct on the part of the Durbar. This conduct I had rebuked as directed, but it was a question as to how Thangal Major was to be dealt with. I was authorised to demand his dismissal from office, and for some time he had not been received by my two immediate predecessors. I made careful inquiries, and feeling convinced that there was a good deal to be said on Thangal's side, and that by careful management I should be able to keep him well in hand, I sent for him. The old man, he was then sixty, having been born in 1817, came in a quiet unostentatious way, and after a severe rebuke, and receiving an ample apology from him, I forgave him, and restored him to the position of minister in attendance upon me; and thenceforth I saw him daily, generally for an hour or two.

In addition to the Minister, two Subadars, Lowremba and Moirang, were placed in attendance on me, but as time went on, and I and the Durbar became friends, we transacted business in a friendly way, through any one.