“Mahadev! thou, by thy great might,”“Upholdest, all things day and night.”
“Mahadev! thou, by thy great might,”“Upholdest, all things day and night.”
Bancharam Babu was driving his buggy from a southerly direction: when the two were alongside each other, they both peeped out to see who was passing. As soon as Bancharam caught the outline of Becharam’s figure, he whipped up his horse. Becharam thereupon, holding the door of hisgharrytight with his hand, put his head hurriedly out of the window and shouted out:“Ho! Bancharam! Ho Bancharam!”Upon this summons, the buggy was brought to a stop, and thegharrydrew up to it with many a creak and a groan. Becharam Babu then said to Bancharam:“Aha, Bancharam! you are indeed a lucky fellow! The vessel of your gains is like Ravan’s funeral pile, ever blazing[55]. At one stroke you have successfully carried out your trade ventures. Your friend and ally, Thakchacha, is now ruined; and I fancy that even out of that circumstance some trifling gain will accrue to you, perhaps the price of a goat’s head. But you have only worked your own future ruin by all yourvakeel’spractices and stratagems; Has this thought, that you must die some time or other, never occurred to you?”Bancharam Babu was exceedingly angry at all this: he frowned and bit his moustache in his vexation, and venting his rage on his horse’s back, drove away.
THEtalukthat belonged to Baburam Babu in Jessore had been more profitable to him than all his other estates. At the time of the Permanent Settlement the land on that portion of the property had been mostly uncultivated, and the rent of it had been fixed at one rate; but once under tillage, it became very productive and was let out in fields: in fact it proved so fertile that hardly any portion of it remained common land or waste.
At one period theryots, after cultivating it for some time, used to make large profits by a succession of crops of different sorts, but they were now in a very bad way, owing to oppression on the part of the proprietor of the estate, acting entirely on Thakchacha’s advice. Many of thelakherajdars, finding that their lands had been included in the estates of thezemindar, and not having any proofs of possession, came now and again to give their customary offerings to thezemindar, and then gradually left the estate altogether. Many of the headmen of the different villages, too, finding themselves disturbed in their possession by forgeries and oppression, abandoned their rights to their own lands, without getting any compensation, and fled to other estates. So it came about that for a space of two or three years the income of thetalukhad considerably increased, and Thakchacha would remark to Baburam in a swaggering tone:“See how great my power is!”But, says the old Sanscrit proverb;—“The course of virtue is a very delicate thing.”Within a very short time, many of theryots, alarmed at the state of affairs, left the estates, taking with them their draught cattle and their seed-grain, and it became very difficult to let their land: they were all afraid that the proprietor would, either by force or by craft, seize upon the little profits they might make, and that the toil and labour of cultivation would be carried on at the risk of their lives: what was the use then, they argued, of remaining any longer on the estate? Thenaibof the estate, for all his soft language and insinuating address, could not succeed in calming them down. So it was that a good deal of land remained unlet, and nobody could be found willing to take it even at a low rent: much less would anyone take it at a fixed permanent rent. The proprietor had now some difficulty in raising the revenue from it when he took it into his own hands, and paid labourers to cultivate it. Thenaibkept the proprietor constantly informed of the state of affairs, and he would write back the customary reply;—“If the revenue is not collected, as it always has been hitherto, you will have to starve, and no excuse will be attended to.”Now there are times when severity, under special circumstances, may be of avail; but what can it profit when misfortunes have occurred entirely beyond its reach? In this dilemma, thenaibwent about his duties, anxious and perplexed. Meanwhile, as the revenue had fallen into arrears for some two or three years past, an order was issued for a sale of the property; in order to save his property, Baburam Babu had paid the Government revenue, borrowing money by a mortgage upon the land.
Matilall now came and took up his abode on this estate, accompanied by his band of boon companions. His intention had been to get all the money he could out of thetalukto pay off his debts with, and so keep up his state and dignity. The Babu had never seen a paper connected with estate management, and was entirely ignorant of the ordinary terms used in keeping estate accounts. When thenaibsaid to him one day:“Just look, sir, for a moment at these different heads of the records;”he would not even glance at the papers, but gazed vacantly in the direction of a tree near the office. On another occasion, thenaibsaid to him:“Sir, there are so many Khod-kast and so many Pai-kast tenants.”“Don’t talk to me,”said the Babu,“of Khod-kast and Pai-kast, I will make them all Ek-kast[56].”When the tenants heard of the arrival of the proprietor of the estate at his head-quarters, they were delighted, and said to each other:“Ah, now that that old wretch of a Mussulman has gone, our destiny after all these days has changed its course!”And so these poor empty-handed, empty-stomached[57]and poverty-stricken tenants came with joyous and confident faces, to offer him the customary gifts, making profound obeisance the while. Matilall, enraptured by the jingling sound of the silver, smiled softly to himself. Then theryots, seeing the Babu so happy and cheerful, began to shout out their various grievances.“Somebody has removed my boundary mark, and ploughed up my land,”said one.“Somebody has put his own pots on my date palm, and stolen all my toddy,”said another.“Somebody has loosed his cattle into my garden,”exclaimed another,“and they have done a lot of damage in it.”“My grain has all been eaten up by somebody or other’s ducks,”cried another. Another said,“I have brought back the money I borrowed upon a promissory note; please give me my bond back.”“I have cut down and sold somebabul, trees”said another,“and as I wish to repair my house, please pass an order to have the fourth part of the price remitted to me.”Another said,“My land has not been properly made over to me yet: the old tenant’s name has not been cut out of the deed: I shall be unable to give the customary offering till this is done.”And another cried out,“The present measurement of the land in my occupation is short: allow me to pay rent in proportion, or else let another measurement be made.”Such were some of the grievances theryotsgave vent to, but Matilall, not understanding in the least their purport, remained sitting like a painted doll. The young Babus, his companions, made fan of the strange sounds, which they had never heard the like of before, and made the office ring with their laughter, striking up a song the refrain of which ran:—
“A bird is soaring in the air:”“Oh, let me count its feathers rare!”
“A bird is soaring in the air:”“Oh, let me count its feathers rare!”
Thenaibwas like a log, and theryotssat round in utter dejection, resting their heads on their hands. Where the master is a competent man, there is not much chance of the servant carrying on his tricks. Thenaib, seeing how utterly dense Matilall was, soon began to show himself in his true colours. The proprietor being altogether incompetent to enter into the numerous cases that had come before him, his agent threw dust in his eyes, to effect his own ends; and theryotssoon got to know that to have an interview with the Babu was a mere waste of breath. Thenaibwas wholly master.
The high-handedness of the indigo planters of Jessore had greatly increased at this time. Theryotshad no mind to sow indigo, as more profit was to be got out of rice and other crops, and besides, any of them who chanced to go to an indigo factory to get an advance, was ruined once for all. True, theryotscultivating indigo at their own risk might clear off the advances made to them, but their accounts would go hanging on and increase, yearly and the maw of the planter’sgomashtha, and the other people about the factory, was never satisfied with a little. Anyryottherefore who had once drank of the sweet waters of an advance from the factory, never, to the end of his life, got out of its power. But it would be a heavy calamity to the planter if his indigo were not ready: the working expenses of the factory were annually advanced by one or other of the merchant firms in Calcutta, and if his wares were not forthcoming, his expenses would be very largely increased: the factory might even have to be closed, and the planter be compelled to retire from the concern. These English managers might be very ordinary sort of people in their own country, but at their factories they lorded it like kings. Their great fear was lest obstacles should be put in the way of the working of their concerns, and they, in consequence, should become as mean as mice[58]: again: naturally, therefore, they exerted themselves to the utmost, by all the means in their power and at all seasons, to have their indigo ready in time.
One day, Matilall was amusing himself with his companions. Thenaib, with spectacles on his nose, had just opened his office, and was busily engaged in writing, drying the ink on his papers with lime, when suddenly someryotscame running up, shouting:“Sir! those brutes from the factory have ruined us entirely! the manager has come on our land in person, and is now ploughing over some of our sown lands, and he has taken off our draught cattle. Oh sir! the brute is not content with destroying all our seed, he must needs too have his barrows drawn over our ripe paddy.”Thenaibat once assembled about a hundredpaiks, and, hurrying off to the scene, saw the planter, with his sun-helmet on his head, a cheroot in his mouth, and a gun in his hand, standing there, and, urging on his men. Upon thenaibapproaching him, and gently remonstrating, the planter only called out to his men:“Drive them all off, and beat them well.”The men on both sides thereupon wielded their clubs, and the planter himself hurried forward, quite prepared to fire. Thenaibslipped off, and concealed himself in a hedge of wild cotton. After the fight had lasted a considerable time, thezemindars’people fled, some of them badly wounded. The planter, after this exhibition of his might went off to his factory in great glee, while theryotsreturned to their homes, crying out for justice, and exclaiming, amid their tears:“We are ruined: we are utterly undone.”The indigo planter proceeded home to his factory after the row, his dog running before him and playing, poured himself out some brandy and soda, and drank it, whistling the while, and singing—"Taza ba Taza". He knew that it was hard to control him; the magistrate and the judge constantly dined at his house, and the police and the people about the courts held him in great awe because of his associating so much with them! Besides even if there was any investigation made, in a case of homicide, his trial could not take place in the Mofussil courts. Any black people accused of homicide or any other great offence, would always be tried and sentenced in the local courts; whereas any white man accused of such offences would be sent up to the Supreme Court; in which case the witnesses or complainants in the case being quite helpless owing to the expense, trouble, and loss their business that would be entailed, would fail to put to in an appearance; and naturally, when the cases against such persons came on for trial at the High Court, they would be dismissed.
It happened just as the indigo planter had anticipated. Early next morning the police inspector came and surrounded thezemindar’soffices. Weakness is a great calamity: in the presence of a man of might, the poor man is powerless. When Matilall saw the state of affairs, he withdrew inside his house, and secured the doors. Thenaibthen approached the inspector, and having arranged matters by a heavy bribe, got most of the prisoners set free. The inspector had been blustering loudly, but as soon as he received the money, it was as though water had fallen on fire: having completed his investigation, he made a report to the magistrate, exonerating both parties— actuated on the one hand by avarice, on the other by fear. The planter was at the same time busily engaged in arranging the affair, and the magistrate for his part was firmly convinced that the indigo planter, being an Englishman, and a Christian to boot, would never do what was wrong; it was only the black folk who did all the mischief. This was an opportunity thesheristadarand thepeshkardid not neglect: they took a heavy bribe from the indigo planter, and suppressing the depositions of the opposite party, read only the depositions of the party they favoured themselves: thus by very delicate and skilful manoeuvring, they succeeded in their object. The indigo planter seized the opportunity to address the court:—“Ever since I came to this place, I have been conferring endless benefits on the Bengalis: I have spent a great deal upon their education and upon medical treatment for them; how can such an accusation be brought against me? The Bengalis are very ungrateful, and very troublesome.”The magistrate, having heard everything, proceeded to tiffin: he drank a good deal of wine after tiffin, and came into court again, smoking a cheroot. When the case came on again, the magistrate looked at the papers before him as if they had been so many tigers, evidently wishing to have nothing more to do with, them, and said all at once to thesheristadar:“Dismiss this case.”The planter’s face beamed again with delight, and he glared at thenaib, who went slowly away, his head bent low, and his whole frame trembling, exclaiming as he went:“Ah, it has become very difficult for Bengalis to retain theirzemindaries!the country has been ruined by the violence of the brutal planter: theryotsare all calling out in fear for protection: the magistrates are entirely under the influence of their own countrymen, and the laws are so administered as to provide the indigo planter with many paths of escape. People say that it is the oppression of thezemindarsthat has ruined theryot: that is a very great error. Thezemindarsmay oppress the ryot, but they do keep him alive after their fashion: hisryotsare to thezemindarhis field ofbeguns. Very different is the action of the indigo planter; it does not much matter to him whether theryotslive or die: all he cares about is to extend the cultivation of indigo: to him theryotsare but a common field of roots.”
SLEEP will never come when fear and anxiety have entered the mind. Thakchacha was exceedingly uncomfortable in the lock-up: he had thrown himself on a blanket, and was tossing restlessly from side to side: now and again he got up to see what hour of the night it was. Whenever he heard the sound of carriage-wheels, or a voice, he imagined it must be daybreak: he kept getting up in a hurry, and saying to the sepoy guard:“Friends, how far advanced is the night?”They were very angry, and said to him:“Ho, you there! the gun will not be fired for two or three hours yet! Keep quiet now; why do you keep on disturbing us like this every hour?”Thakchacha, at these words, began to toss about on his blanket again. Conflicting emotions rose in his mind, and he revolved a variety of plans: his reflections continually taking this turn;—“Why have I been so long conversant with craft and trickery? Where is now the money that I have earned in this way? I have nothing left of all my sinful gains. The only result, so far as I can see, is that I got no sleep at night for fear of being detected in some crime or other. I lived in constant terror: if the leaves of a tree only shook, I imagined some one was coming to apprehend me. How often did my sister-in-law’s husband, Khoda Buksh, warn me against all this trickery and craft! His words to me were: ‘It would be much better for you if you would get your living by agriculture or trade or service: you can come to no harm so long as you walk in the straight path: by such a course you will keep body and mind alike in sound health.’ And Khoda Buksh, because he does himself walk thus, is happy. Alas I why did I not listen to his words? How shall I find a release from this present calamity? Unless I can secure a pleader or a barrister, I shall never succeed in doing so. But if there is no evidence against me, I cannot possibly be punished. How will they find out where the forgery was committed, or who committed it?”He was still revolving all these thoughts in his mind when the day began to break, and then from sheer weariness he fell asleep. Soon however he began to dream about his many misfortunes, and to talk in his sleep.“Ah Bahulya! take care that no one gets a glimpse of the pencil, the pen and the other instruments: they are all in the tank in the house at Sialdah: they will be quite safe there: be very careful now not to take them out again, and get off yourself as soon as you can to Faridpore; I will meet you there, when I have been set free.”
It was now morning, and the rays of the sun fell through the venetians full on Thakchacha’s beard. Thejemadarof the lock-up had been standing near Thakchacha, and had heard all he said. He now shouted:“Ho, you old rascal! what! have you been asleep all this time? Get up, you have revealed all your secrets yourself.”Thakchacha got up in a great flurry, and rubbing his eyes, his nose, and his beard with his hand, commenced repeating his prayers: and again, he looked at thejemadarwith eyes half-open, and then closed again. Thejemadarfrowned, and said:“You are a fine hypocrite, you are! sitting there with a whole sack of virtue! Well, well! your virtue will be fully manifest when we have taken the instruments out of the tank at Sialdah.”At these words Thakchacha trembled all over like a plantain leaf, and said:“Ah, sir! I have a heavy fever on me; hence the lies I told in my sleep.”“Well,”replied thejemadar,“we shall soon know the meaning of all you have said: get ready at once.”With these words, he departed.
As soon as it struck ten, the officers of the court took Thakchacha and the other accused into court. Bancharam had been walking up and down the police court with Mr. Butler, long before nine. He was thinking—“If we can only get Thakchacha off this time, we may still secure a good deal of business through his agency: he is an extremely useful person in many ways, through his power of talking people over, and his special knowledge and experience in every kind of business, legal or otherwise; but I have always for myself acted, on the principle;— ‘No rupees, no investigation’ I cannot, as the saying is, ‘drive away the wild buffalo at my own expense;’ and again, as another saying has it, ‘I have sat down to dance, why then a veil?’ Why conceal my sentiments? Besides, Thakchacha has bled a good many people, what harm then in bleeding him? But a good deal of skill is necessary to get the flesh of a crow[59]to eat, and it will not be easy to make anything out of so wary an individual as Thakchacha.”Mr. Butler, seeing Bancharam so absent-minded, asked him what he was anxious about. Bancharam replied:“Ah, dear Saheb, I am thinking how to get money to enter my house!”Mr. Butler, who had moved away a little distance, exclaimed:“A capital idea, capital.”
As soon as he saw Thakchacha, Bancharam ran up to him, and catching hold of his hands said to him, with tears in his eyes:“Ah, what a misfortune this is! I sat up the whole of last night in consequence of the bad news; not once did I close my eyes, and after I had in a fashion performed my religious duties, I slipped away before daylight, and brought the Saheb with me. But why be afraid? Am I a mere child that you cannot trust me? A man’s life has many vicissitudes: moreover, it is the big tree[60]that the storm strikes! But no investigation can be made, and nothing done, unless money is forthcoming: I have none with me: but if you would have some of your wife’s heavy ornaments fetched, business can proceed: only get off scot-free this time, and you will get plenty of jewelry afterwards.”It is very hard for a man who has fallen into any misfortune to deliberate calmly. Thakchacha at once wrote off a letter to his wife. Bancharam took the letter and with a wink and a smile at Mr. Butler handed it to a messenger, saying:“Run with all speed to Vaidyabati, get some heavy ornaments from Thakchacha’s wife, and return here or to the office in the twinkling of an eye; and look you, be very careful how you bring the ornaments! Look sharp, be off like a shot.”The messenger testily replied:“It is easier said than done, sir! I have to get out of Calcutta first, then I have to get to Vaidyabati and then find Thakchacha’s wife. I shall have to wander and stumble about in the dark, and besides, I have not yet had my bath, let alone a morsel of food: how can I possibly get back to-day?”Bancharam lost his temper and abused the man, saying:“The lower orders are all alike: each acts as he thinks proper: courtesy is wasted upon them: there is no hurrying them up without kicks and blows! People can go as far as Delhi when they have an object in view: cannot you then go as far as Vaidyabati, do your business, and come back again? You know the proverb: ‘A hint is sufficient for a wise man:’ now I have actually had to poke my finger into your eye, and yet you have not had wit enough to see.”The messenger hung his head down, and without saying a word in reply, went slowly off like a jaded horse, muttering as he went:“What have poor persons to do with respect or disrespect? I most put up with it in order to live, but when will the day arrive when the Babu will fall into the same snare as Thakchacha? I know that he has ruined hundreds of people and hundreds of homes, and hundreds he has rendered houseless and destitute. Ah indeed, I have seen a good many attorneys’ agents, but never a match for this man! See the sort he is! a man who can swear black is white, a man who can compass anything he likes by his trickery and craft, and yet all the time keeps up his daily religious duties, his Dol Jatra and his Durga Pujah, his alms to the Brahmans and his devotions to his guardian deity! Bad luck to such Hinduism as his, the unmitigated scoundrel!”
Meanwhile Thakchacha, Bancharam and Mr. Butler had all taken their seats: the case had not yet been called on, and their impatience only increased with the delay. Just as it struck five o’clock, Thakchacha was placed before the magistrate, and soon saw that the instruments wherewith he had committed the forgery had been brought into court from the tank at Sialdah, and that some villagers from that quarter were also present in court. After examination into the case, the magistrate passed these orders:—“The case must be sent up to the High Court: the prisoner cannot be admitted to bail: he must be imprisoned in the Presidency Jail.”As soon as these orders had been passed, Bancharam ran up quickly, and shaking the prisoner by the hand, said:“What cause for alarm is there? You don’t take me for a child that you cannot trust me? I knew all along that the case would go up to the High Court: that is just what we want.”
Thakchacha’s face looked all at once pinched and withered from anxiety. The constable seized him by the arms, dragged him roughly down, and sent him off to the jail[61]. Thakchacha proceeded along, his fetters clanging as he went, and his throat parched, without so much as lifting up his eyes, for fear of seeing somebody who might recognise and jeer at him.
It was evening when Thakchacha first put his foot into that ‘House of Beauty,’— the Presidency Jail. All those who are in for debt or civil cases are imprisoned on one side, those who are in on criminal charges on the other; and after trial they may have either to work out a fixed sentence there, or grindsoorkeyin the mill-house, or else chains and fetters may be their lot. Thakchacha had to remain on the criminal side of the jail. As soon as he entered, the prisoners all surrounded him. Thakchacha looked closely at them, but could not recognise a single acquaintance amongst them. The prisoners exclaimed:“Ah, Munshi Ji! what are you staring at? You are in the same plight as we are: come then, let us associate together.”Thakchacha replied:“Ah, gentlemen I have fallen into unmerited trouble! I have taken nothing from any man: I have touched nothing belonging to any man: it is but a turn of the wheel of fortune.”One or two of the old offenders said:“Ha! And is that really so? A good many people get overwhelmed by false charges.”One rough fellow said harshly:“Are we to suppose then that the charge against you is false, while those against ourselves are true? Ha! what a virtuous and eloquent man has come amongst us! Be careful, my brothers; this bearded fellow is a very cunning sort of individual.”Thakchacha at once became more modest, and began to depreciate himself, but they were long engaged in a wrangle on the subject: any trifling matter will serve when people have nothing else to do, as a peg whereon to hang an argument.
The jail had been shut for the night: the prisoners had had their food and were preparing, to lie down to sleep. Thakchacha was just on the point of seizing this opportunity to throw into his mouth some sweetmeats he had brought with him tied up in his waistcloth, when suddenly two of the prisoners, low fellows, with whiskers, hair and eyebrows all white, came up behind him and snatched away the vessel containing the sweetmeats, laughing loudly and harshly the while. They just showed them to the others, then tossed them into their mouths, and demolished them, coming close up to Thakchacha as they ate, and jeering at him. Thakchacha remained perfectly dumb, and keeping the insult to himself, got quietly on to his sleeping mat, and lay down.
THE cutting of the rice-crops had already begun in the Soonderbunds: boats were constantly coming and going with their loads. There was water everywhere: here and there were raised bamboo platforms to serve as refuges whence theryotscould watch their crops; but, for all their produce the people were no better off. On the one hand there was themahajan, who made them advances, to be satisfied, on the other, thezemindar’spaikwith his extortion: if they succeeded in selling their crops well, they might perhaps have two full meals a day, otherwise all they had to depend upon was fish or vegetables, or what they could earn as day labourers. On the higher lands only the autumn rice-crops are grown, the spring crops being generally raised on the lower lands. Rice is very easily grown in Bengal, but the crops have many obstacles to contend with: they are liable to destruction from excess of rain and from want of it; then there are the locusts and all kinds of destructive insects, and the late autumn storms: the rice-crop, moreover, requires continual attention for without very great care being exercised, blight attack the plants. Bahulya, after looking after his little property all the morning, was sitting in his verandah smoking, a bundle of papers before him. Near him were seated certain scoundrels of the deepest dye, and some persons connected with the courts: the subject of their conversation was the law as administered by the magistrate, and certain suits-at-law then pending. One of the men was hinting at the necessity of getting some fresh documents prepared and some additional witnesses suborned: another was loudly applauding his successful devices, as he unfastened rupees from his waistcloth. Bahulya himself seemed somewhat absent-minded and kept looking about him in all directions: now and again, he gave some trivial orders to his cultivators.“Ho there! lift that pumpkin on to themachan”“Spread those bundles of straw in the sun.”Then again he would gaze all about him, evidently restless and agitated. One of the company remarked:“Moulvi Saheb! I have just heard some bad news about Thakchacha. Is there not likely to be some trouble?”Bahulya had no wish to tell any of his secrets, so shaking his head from side to side he replied in a light sententious manner:“Man is encompassed about with every danger; why should you be in any fear?”Another man remarked:“That is all very true, but Thakchacha is a very clever man: he will escape from the danger by the mere force of his intelligence. But be that as it may, we shall be very glad if no calamity befalls you: we have no allies, no resources save you, in this Bhowanipore. Talk of our strength, of our wisdom; why, you are all in your own person: if you were not here we should have to remove our abode hence. It was most fortunate for me that you fabricated those papers for me, for I managed to give that idiot of azemindara good lesson by their means: he has done me no injury since: he knows very well that all the weight of your influence has been thrown into the scales on my behalf against him.”Bahulya, contentedly puffing away at hishooka, with its pedestal ofBidriware, and letting the smoke out of his eyes and mouth, laughed gently to himself. Another man remarked:“When a man has to take land into his own hands in the Mofussil there are two ways of keeping thezemindarand the indigo planter quiet; the first is to get the protection of a man like the Moulvi Saheb here: the second to become a Christian. I have seen a good manyryots, under the protection of thepadri, lording it over their fellows, like so many Brahmin bulls among a herd of cows: there is power in thepadri’smoney, in his signature, and in his recommendation. ‘People always look after their own’ says a proverb. I do not say that theryotsare all really Christian at heart, but those that go to thepadri’schurch get a good may advantages, and in police cases a letter from thepadriis of great service to them.”Bahulya replied:“That may be all very true but it is a very bad thing for a man to renounce his faith.”They all at once said:“Very true, very true, and on this account we never go near thepadri.”
They were all gossiping away merrily like this, when suddenly a police inspector, somejemadars, and sergeants of police, rushed forward and caught hold of Bahulya by the arms, saying:“You have committed forgery along with Thakchacha: there is a warrant for your apprehension.”The men who had been with Bahulya were seized with terror when they heard these words, and ran off as fast as they could. Bahulya appealed to the avarice of the inspector and the sergeant of police, but they would not listen to the offer of a bribe for fear of losing their appointment; they seized him and took him off with them. As the news spread in Upper Bhowanipore, a great crowd collected, and some of the more respectable people in the crowd exclaimed;—“The punishment of crime must come sooner or later: if people who have been perpetrating crimes pass their lives in happiness, then must the creation be all a delusion and a lie; but such can never be.”As Bahulya proceeded on his way, with his head bent low, he met a good many people, but he affected to see no one. Some there were who had at some time or other been victimised by him: seeing that their opportunity had now come, they ventured to approach him, and said:“Ah, Moulvi Saheb! how deep in thought you are— Krishna pining for Brindabun! you must have some very important business on hand.”Bahulya answered not a word. After having crossed over from Bansberia ghât he arrived at Shahganj. Some of the leading Mahomedans of that place remarked when they saw him,“Ah! the rogue has been caught: that is a very good thing, and it will be still better thing if he is punished.”All these remarks directed against him seemed so much added to his disgrace: they were as the strokes of a sword upon a dead body. Exceedingly mortified by all the insults he had been exposed to, he at length reached Bhowanipore.
From a short distance off it appeared as if there was a crowd of people standing on the left side of the road. When they came nearer, the police sergeant stopped with Bahulya, and asked why there was such a crowd there: then, pushing his way into the circle, he saw a gentleman seated on the ground with an injured man in his lap: blood poured in a continuous stream from his head, and the clothing of the gentleman was all saturated with it. Upon the sergeant asking the gentleman who he was and how the man got injured, he replied:—“My name is Barada Prasad Biswas: I was coming here on business, and, as it happened, this man was accidentally run over by a carriage, and I have been looking after him. I am trying to find some means of taking him to the hospital at once: I sent for apalki, but thepalki-bearers refuse on any consideration to take the man, as he is of the sweeper caste. I have a carriage with me, but the man cannot get into a carriage: if I can only get apalki, or adooly. I am fully prepared to pay the hire, whatever it may amount to.”The heart even of the most worthless may be melted by the sight of such goodness. Bahulya marvelled to see this behaviour of Barada Babu’s, and a feeling of remorse rose in his mind. The sergeant of police said to Barada Babu:“Sir, the people of Bengal never touch a man of the sweeper caste: it must be no easy matter for you, being a Bengali, to do as you are doing: you must be no ordinary person.”As he said this, he put the prisoner in the charge of a constable and went off himself to apalkistand, where by a liberal expenditure of threats and promises, he managed to get apalki, and sent the injured man off to the hospital in charge of Barada Babu.
At one time, criminal cases were tried at the High Court at intervals of three months in the year; now, they are held much more frequently. Two kinds of juries are empanelled for the purpose of deciding upon criminal cases. First, there is the grand jury, who, after due deliberation as to whether an indictment framed by the police or others is a true bill or not, inform the court; secondly, there is a petty jury, who help the judge to come to a decision in cases that have been found to be true bills, in accordance with the deliberate opinion of the grand jury, and find the accused guilty or not guilty. At every sessions of the Criminal Court, twenty-four persons are called on the grand jury: any person with property of the value of two lakhs, or any merchant, may be on it. During the sessions, the petty jury may be empanelled every day, and when their names are called on, the defendants or the plaintiffs may raise objections to them if they please: that is to say, they may have some one appointed on the jury in place of anyone about whom they have any doubts; but when the twelve persons have once been sworn in as the petty jury, no change can be made. On the first day of the sessions, three judges preside, and as soon as the grand jury have been empanelled, the judge, whose turn of duty it may be, charges them, that is to say, explains to them all the cases on for trial at the sessions. After the charge has been delivered, the two other judges, who are not on duty, depart; and the grand jury will then withdraw to record their deliberate opinion on the cases before them, and when they have sent it in to the judge, the trial will commence.
The night had nearly come to an end: a gentle breeze was blowing. At this beautifully cool morning hour Thakchacha was fast asleep and snoring loud, with his mouth wide open: the other prisoners were up and smoking, and some of them hearing the sound of snoring kept whispering into Thakchacha’s ears:“Eat a burnt buffalo![62]”but Thakchacha went on sleeping as soundly as the famous Kumbha Karna[63];—
“Oh! the thunder of a snore;”“How it terrifies me sore!”
“Oh! the thunder of a snore;”“How it terrifies me sore!”
Not long afterwards the English jailor came and told the prisoners that they must get ready at once, as they were all wanted at the High Court immediately.
Upon the opening of the sessions, the verandah of the High Court was crowded with people, even before the clock struck ten. Attorneys, barristers, plaintiffs defendants, witnesses, attorneys’ touts, jurymen, sergeants of police,jemadars, constables, and others were all collected there. Bancharam was pacing up and down with Mr. Butler, and any rich man he saw, no matter whether he knew him or not, he would greet with hands uplifted, in order to parade his Brahmanical degree[64]; but he deceived no one who knew him well by this assumption of courtesy. They would perhaps speak with him for a moment or two, and then on some imaginary plea or other slip away from him. Soon the jail van arrived, with sepoys on it before and behind: everybody looked down on it from the verandah above. The police removed the prisoners from the van and placed them in an enclosure in a room below the court-room.
Bancharam hurried below to have an interview with Thakchacha and Bahulya.“You two are Bhima and Arjuna[65]”, said he to them;“have no fear; you may put full confidence in me, I am not a child you know.”
About twelve o’clock, a space was cleared down the middle of the verandah, and the people all stood on either side of it: thechuprassisof the court commanded silence: all were eagerly expecting the arrival of the judges; then the sergeant of police, thechuprassisand the mace-bearers, bearing in their hands staves, maces, swords, and the royal silver-crowned insignia, went outside the court: the sheriff and deputy sheriff appeared with rods, and then the three judges, clothed in scarlet, ascended the bench with dignified gait and grave faces, and, after saluting the counsel, took their seats on the bench, the counsel making profound obeisance as they stood up in their places. The moving of chairs, the whispering and chattering of people, made a great noise in the court, and thechuprassisof the court had repeatedly to call out:“Silence in the court!”The sergeants of police also tried to keep the people quiet, and then, as the town crier called out:“Oh yes! oh yes!”the sessions opened. The names of the grand jury were then called over, and they were duly empanelled. They then appointed their foreman, that is, their president. It happened to be Mr. Russell’s turn to sit as judge: turning to the grand jury he thus addressed them:—“Gentlemen of the jury, an inspection of the cases for trial shows me that forgery is on the increase in Calcutta: I see that there are five or six cases of that kind, and amongst them a case against the two men Thakchacha and Bahulya. It appears from the depositions in their case that they have for some years past been forging Company’s paper at Sialdah, and selling it in this city. Take this case first, please, and be good enough to inform me whether it is a true bill or not: it is superfluous for me to bid you do your duty in examining into the other cases for trial.”
The grand jury, having received this charge, withdrew. Bancharam looked very despondently at Mr. Butler. After about a quarter of an hour had elapsed, the indictment against Thakchacha and Bahulya was returned to the court as a true bill. Thereupon the jail sentry produced Thakchacha and Bahulya and made them stand within the railed enclosure before the judge. As the petty jury were being empanelled, the court interpreter called out loudly:“Prisoners at the bar! you have been charged with forging Company’s paper: have you committed this crime or not?”The accused replied:“We do not even know what is meant by forgery, or by Company’s paper: we are only simple cultivators: we do not concern ourselves with things of this kind: that is the concern of our English rulers.”The interpreter then said rather angrily to them:“Your language is all very fine: have you done this thing or have you not?”The only reply of the accused was:“Our fathers and our grandfathers never did such things.”The interpreter then, in a great rage struck the table with his fist and said:“Give an answer to my question: have you done this thing or not?”“No, we never did such a thing,”the accused at last replied. The reason for putting these questions was that, if the accused acknowledged his crime, his trial proceeded no further: he was at once sentenced. The interpreter then said:“Attention! These twelve men, all good and true, who are seated here, will try you: if you have any objection to raise against any of them, then speak at once: he will be removed, and another man substituted.”The accused, not understanding anything that was being said, remained silent, and the trial then commenced: by means of the depositions of the complainants, and the witnesses, the Crown prosecutor established a clear case of forgery. The counsel for the accused did not produce any witnesses, but did his best, by the ingenious twistings and turnings of cross-examination and by the chicanery of the law, to mislead the jury. When the speech for the defence was finished, Mr. Russell gave the jury a summary of the proofs of the case and explained the evidence of the forgery.
Having received their charge, the petty jury withdrew to consult. Unless the jury are unanimous, they are unable to record a verdict. Bancharam seized this opportunity to draw near the prisoners to encourage them. A few words had passed between them, when there was a sudden stir in the court, caused by the re-entry of the jury. When they had all entered and taken their seats, the foreman stood up: there was at once silence in the court: all craned their necks and strained their ears to catch what was said. The clerk of the Crown, the chief conductor of all criminal cases in the court, put the question:—“Gentlemen of the jury! Are Thakchacha and Bahulya guilty or not guilty?”“Guilty”was the reply of the foreman of the jury. As soon as the accused heard this, their hearts died within them. Bancharam then hurried up to them, and said:“Ha, ha! what, guilty? Put your trust in me, I am no child as you know: I will petition for a new trial, that is, for another verdict.”Thakchacha only shook his head, and said:“Ah, sir! what must be, must: we cannot afford any more expense.”
Bancharam then explained, with some irritation,“How much do you suppose I shall make by binding leaves in an empty vessel? In business like this, is clay to be moistened by tears only?”Mr. Russell then, examining his records very carefully, looked fixedly at the prisoners, as he passed this sentence upon them:—“Thakchacha and Bahulya, your guilt has been well established, and all who commit such crimes as yours should be heavily punished: I sentence you therefore to transportation for life.”No sooner was the sentence delivered then the guards seized the prisoners by their hands and took them below. Bancharam had slipped back and was standing to one side; some people remarked to him,“Is this your case that has been lost?”“You might have known that,”he replied;“let me never again have anything to do with so bad a one: I have never cared for cases like this.”
THE Vaidyabati house was enveloped in gloom: there was no one to superintend affairs or look after the maintenance of the household; the family was in a very bad way, and had great difficulty even in procuring food. The villagers began to say amongst themselves:“How long can an embankment of sand last? A virtuous household is as a building of stone.”Matilall was all this time an exile from home, and his companions had also vanished; nothing more was heard of all their display. Great was the delight of Premnarayan Mozoomdar. He was sitting one day in the verandah of Beni Babu’s house, snapping his fingers and singing a popular song:—