PRINCIPLE OF HUMAN SACRIFICE — THE SUTTEE, OR WIDOW BURNING — HER FATE DESIRED BY HERSELF AND HER NEAREST RELATIVES — REASONS FOR THE SACRIFICE — CONTRAST BETWEEN THE LIFE OF A WIFE AND A WIDOW OF HIGH CASTE — SOCIAL STATUS OF THE BRAHMINS — HONOR IN WHICH THE SUTTEE IS HELD — MODE OF CONDUCTING THE SACRIFICE — STRUCTURE OF THE PILE — COURAGEOUS CONDUCT OF THE VICTIM — ATTEMPTED ESCAPE OF A SUTTEE — BERNIER’S DESCRIPTION — GRADUAL ABOLITION OF THE SUTTEE — THE GODDESS KALI AND HER WORSHIPPERS — THE THUGS AND THEIR CONSTITUTION — THE SACRED “ROOMAL” OR NOOSE — MODE OF OFFERING A VICTIM — THE FESTIVAL OF JUGGERNAUT — HARDSHIPS OF THE PILGRIMS — FORM OF THE IDOL — SELF-SACRIFICE IN THE GANGES — SACRIFICE OF BEASTS — THE GODDESS DOORGA OR KALI — FAKIRS OR JOGIS — THEIR VARIOUS MODES OF SELF-TORTURE — THE SWINGING FESTIVAL — THE MOTIONLESS FAKIR.
There is no part of the world, not even Africa itself, where the principle of human sacrifice is so widely spread, and is developed so variously, as in India. Several forms of human sacrifice, such as the Meriah, which has already been described, belong to definite districts, and even in them are carried out with certain limitations. Some forms of the same principle, such as the murders by Thugs or Phânsigars in their worship of the dread goddess Kali, are restricted to certain societies of men. Again, the victims annually crushed under the wheels of Juggernaut’s car are comparatively few, and can only be sacrified in a certain locality, and at certain times.
There is, however, one mode of human sacrifice which at no distant period prevailed over the whole of India, and has only been checked by the influence of England in those parts of the country which have been subject to British dominion. Even in those districts the task has been a very difficult one, and there is no doubt that if the strong hand of England were ever lifted, the practice would again prevail as it did before.
This form of human sacrifice is the dreadful Suttee, or the death of the widow on the funeral pyre of her dead husband. Both in Africa and Polynesia we have seen several instances where the widow is sacrificed on the grave of her husband, so that he may not find himself wifeless when he reaches the spirit land. But it is remarkable that even among the lowest of the savages, whose indifference to inflicting pain is well known, there are none who exercise such horrible cruelty toward the widow as do the highly civilized Hindoos. On referring to the former portions of this work, the reader will see that in some places the widows are strangled and laid in the grave, in others they are buried alive, and in others they are killed by a blow of a club (perhaps the most merciful death that can be inflicted), but that in no instance is the surviving wife burned alive, as is the case with the Hindoo.
At the first glance, it seems strange that not only should the relatives of the miserable wife desire her to be burned, but that she herself should wish it, and should adhere to her determination in spite of every opportunity of escaping so dreadful a death. Yet the calm, dispassionate cruelty of the Hindoo nature is shown by the fact that, painful as is a death by burning, the life of a widow who survives her husband is made so miserable that the short though sharp agony of the funeral pyre is infinitely preferable to life. She loses all caste, and a Brahmin widow who refuses to be burned is loathed and despised even by the very Pariahs, whose shadow would have been a contamination to her during the lifetime of her husband. The horror of such a life can scarcely be conceived by an European, even supposing a delicate girl, bred in the midst of all luxury and refinement, to be suddenly cast among the most debased of savages without possibility of rescue, and to be made an object of scorn and contempt even to them.
To realize the depths of utter degradation which a high-caste widow incurs, we must first see what is her opinion of her own status. The reader is doubtless aware that the Hindoos are divided into a number of distinct castes, the peculiarity of which is, that no one can ascend to a superior caste, though he may fall into a lower. Now, of all the castes, the Brahmins are immeasurably the highest, and the reverence which is paid to them by their countrymen is almost incredible. Wealth or secular rank have nothing to do with this reverential feeling. A Hindoo of inferior caste may be, and often is, a man of almost unbounded wealth, may possess almost unbounded power, and, in his own way, unbounded pride. But the very poorest of Brahmins is infinitely his superior, and should he meet one of these exalted beings, he bows before him, and pays divine honors to him. And, according to his belief, he is right in so doing, the Brahmin being an incarnation of Deity, sprung from the mouth of Vishnu, the Saviour God himself. He may be mounted on a magnificent elephant, covered with glittering trappings, he may be clothed in gorgeous robes and sparkle with costly gems, but before a Brahmin, with a single cloth round his waist, and bearing the solitary sign of his caste,—the slight cord hung over one shoulder and under the other,—he is an abject slave. Even if, as sometimes happens, he should employ a Brahmin as his cook, that Brahmin retains his rank, and receives the worship of the man by whom he is paid.
According to their sacred books, “when a Brahmin springs to light, he is born above the world; the chief of all creatures; assigned to guard the treasury of duties, religious and civil.” According to the same books, the very existence of mankind, and even of the world itself, depends upon the forbearance of the Brahmins whose power even exceeds that of the gods themselves. Should there be one who cannot be slain by the great god Indra, by Kali, the goddess of destruction, or even by Vishnu himself, he would be destroyed if a Brahmin were to curse him, as if he were consumed by fire. In the same spirit, princes were warned not to take the property of the Brahmins, however much in want of money, for that if these holy men were once enraged, they could by a word destroy them, their armies, elephants, and horses.
By them, under Brahma, were originally made the earth, the sun, the moon, and the fire, and by them they could be destroyed. “What prince could gain wealth by oppressing those who, if angry, could frame other worlds, and legions of worlds, could give being to new gods and mortals?” Just as these tremendous privileges are independent of the external circumstances of wealth and rank, so are they independent of individual character. The pure soul of a Brahmin is beyond all moral elevation, and above all moral pollution. He may be a man of the purest life and loftiest morality, but he is none the better Brahmin for that; he may be one of the vilest of debauchees, and be none the worse Brahmin for that, provided he does not commit any act which would forfeit his caste,—such, for example, as killing a cow, or eating food that had been cooked by an inferior.
To fall from such an estate as this, above humanity and equal to divinity, must be something almost too terrible to conceive, and we can easily imagine that any death would be preferable to such a life. But not even the horror of a life like this would be equivalent to the sufferings of the Indian widow, who believes that her very soul is contaminated beyond hope by the loss of her caste, and who feels herself degraded below the level of those on whom she had looked with an utter loathing that is almost incomprehensible to the Western mind. She has to cut off her hair, she has to live on the coarsest of food, she has to clothe herself in the coarsest of raiment, and altogether to lead a life utterly and hopelessly miserable in every hardship that can afflict the body, and every reproach that can torture the mind.
On the other side comes the belief, that if she follows the dictates of her religion, and suffers herself to be burned on the funeral pile of her husband, she qualifies herself for everlasting happiness. From the moment that the ceremonies of the sacrifice are begun, she becomes an absolutely sacred being, whose very touch sanctifies the objects on which she lays her hands; she renders herself a model to be imitated by all her sex, and her memory is forever venerated by her family. It is therefore no wonder that, swayed by such considerations, the Indian widow prefers death to life, and that the sacrifice of the Suttee has taken such hold upon the people.
Varying slightly in details according to the rank of the individual and the particular district in which the sacrifice takes place, the ceremony is conducted after the following manner.
A hole is dug in the ground, over which the funeral pile is raised. The object of the hole is to supply a current of air by which the fire may be fed. Sticks are then driven round the edge of the hole to support the materials of the pile, which are dry wood, rushes, and hemp. These are heaped carefully to a height of four feet or so, and resin and ghee (i. e. liquid butter) are thrown on the pile, so as to increase the vehemence of the flames. The body is then taken to the river, on whose bank the pyre is always erected, and is there washed by the relatives, and afterward wrapped in a new cloth and laid on the pile.
During this time the widow stands on the bank, uttering prayers, and waving in her hand a branch of mango. After the corpse is removed from the water, she descends into it herself, and, having washed, distributes to her friends all her ornaments, which are eagerly sought, as being sanctified by having been touched by the sacred hand of a suttee. She is then dressed in a new robe, and places herself by the side of the body, to which she is usually, though not always, lashed. Dry rushes and wood are next heaped over her, only her head being suffered to be uncovered, so that she may breathe for the short time she has to live. Two long bamboos are then laid across the pile, the ends being held by the relations, so as to press her down should she struggle to escape when the flames reach her. The fire is lighted by her nearest relation, and, if the pile has been properly constructed, the suttee is soon dead, being killed rather by suffocation from the smoke than by the flames.
Sometimes, however, when the building of the pile has been entrusted to inexperienced hands, a terrible scene takes place, the wretched victim trying to escape from the flames that torture her, and being ruthlessly held down by the bamboo poles across her body. Dr. Massie relates several instances of attempted escape. In one case, the mode of preparing the pile was evidently the cause of the poor victim’s sufferings. At each corner a stout pole was erected, and from this pole was suspended a second pile, like a canopy, elevated three or four feet above the surface of the principal pile. This canopy was chiefly made of logs of wood, and was exceedingly heavy.
After the suttee had been laid upon the pile, and covered with straw saturated with ghee, the fire was kindled, and the smoke rolled in thick volumes over the head of the victim. The flames began to blaze fiercely, and if they had been allowed to burn in their own way, the death of the poor woman would have been almost immediate. But just at this time four assistants severed with their swords the ropes which upheld the canopy, so that it fell with its whole weight upon her.
Possibly it was intended as an act of mercy, but its effect was anything but merciful. For the moment she was stunned by the blow, but the mass of billets checked the action of the fire, and caused it to burn slowly instead of rapidly. The creeping flames soon restored her to consciousness through the agony which they inflicted upon her, and she shrieked pitifully for the help that none would give her, until death at last put an end to her sufferings.
The same author quotes an account of a suttee who actually did succeed in escaping from the flames, in spite of the resistance offered by the officiating Brahmins and her relatives:—
“Another well-authenticated and brutal instance of this sacrifice occurred about the same time in a more northern province of India: ‘The unfortunate Brahminee, of her own accord, had ascended the funeral pile of her husband’s bones, but finding the torture of the fire more than she could bear, by a violent struggle she threw herself from the flames, and, tottering to a short distance, fell down. Some gentlemen, who were spectators, immediately plunged her into the river, which was close by, and thereby saved her from being much burnt. She retained her senses completely, and complained of the badness of the pile, which, she said, consumed her so slowly that she could not bear it; but expressed her willingness again to try it if they would improve it. They would not do so, and the poor creature shrunk with dread from the flames, which were now burning intensely, and refused to go on.
“‘When the inhuman relations saw this, they took her by the head and heels, and threw her into the fire, and held her there till they were driven away by the heat; they also took up large blocks of wood, with which they struck her, in order to deprive her of her senses; but she again made her escape, and, without any help, ran directly into the river. The people of her house followed her here, and tried to drown her by pressing her under the water, but an European gentleman rescued her from them, and she immediately ran into his arms and cried to him to save her.
“‘I arrived at the ground as they were bringing her the second time from the river, and I cannot describe to you the horror I felt on seeing the mangled condition she was in: almost every inch of skin on her body had been burnt off; her legs and thighs, her arms and back, were completely raw, her breasts were dreadfully torn, and the skin hanging from them in threads; the skin and nails of her fingers had peeled wholly off, and were hanging to the back of her hands. In fact, I never saw and never read of so entire a picture of misery as this poor woman displayed. She seemed to dread being again taken to the fire, and called out to “the Ocha Sahib” to save her. Her friends seemed no longer inclined to force, and one of her relations, at our instigation, sat down beside her, and gave her some clothes, and told her they would not. We had her sent to the hospital, where every medical assistance was immediately given her, but without hope of recovery. She lingered in the most excruciating pain for about twenty hours, and then died.’”
It is often said that the woman is stupefied with opium or Indian hemp before she is brought to the pile, and that the bystanders beat drums and shout in order to drown her shrieks. This, however, is not the case, the woman requiring the use of all her senses to enable her to go through the various ceremonies which precede the actual burning, and the pile being generally made so carefully that death is so rapid that the victim scarcely utters a cry or makes a single struggle to escape.
Additions to the mere burning of the widow have been mentioned by various travellers. Bernier, for example, says that, while travelling near Agra, he heard that a Suttee was about to take place. He went to the spot, and there saw a great pit, in the midst of which was a large pile of wood. On the pile lay the body of a man, and beside it sat a young and handsome woman, whose dress was almost saturated with oil, as was the wood of the pile. The fire being lighted, she sat on the pile, and as the flames wrapped her body, she exclaimed with a loud voice that, according to the Indian belief in the transmigration of souls, this was the fifth time that she had become a suttee, and that she would have to do so twice more in order to attain perfection.
Round the edge of the pit danced five women, holding each other by the hand, and appearing regardless of the fire. Presently the flames seized upon the dress of one of them; whereupon she detached herself from her companions, and flung herself headlong into the burning pit. The remaining four continued their dance, and, as the fire caught their garments, they one by one leaped into the flaming pit. These women, it appeared, had been slaves of the suttee. They were greatly attached to their mistress, and when they heard her offer the vow to die on the funeral pile, they determined to die with her.
The same traveller relates a very curious anecdote of a suttee who employed the dreadful ceremony for a strange purpose.
She was a widow by her own act, having poisoned her husband in order to carry on an intrigue with a young tailor, a Mohammedan, who was celebrated for his skill in playing the drum. He, however, was alarmed at her crime, and declined her society. On account of the caste to which she belonged, the death by burning was not a necessity, but on her lover’s refusal she went to her relations, reported the sudden death of her husband, and declared that she would be burned with him.
“Her kindred, well satisfied with so generous a resolution, and the great honor that she did to the whole family, presently had a pit made and filled with wood, exposing the corpse upon it, and kindling the fire. All being prepared, the woman goes to embrace and bid farewell to all her kindred that were there about the pit, among whom was also the tailor, who had been invited to play upon the tabor that day, with many others of that sort of men, according to the custom of the country. This fury of a woman, being also come to this young man, made sign as if she would bid him farewell with the rest, but, instead of gently embracing him, she taketh him with all her force about his collar, pull him to the pit, and tumbles him, together with herself, into the ditch, where they both were soon despatched.”
The date at which the Suttee was instituted is not known, but it was in operation at the time of Alexander the Great, and must have been established long before. Under the British rule the Suttee system has gradually been abolished, and we may hope that never again will the dread scene be repeated.
Reference has already been made to several other modifications of human sacrifice, and we will give a few pages to a description of them.
There is in the Indian mythology a certain dreadful goddess of destruction, named Kali. Her statues show her attributes, her many hands being filled with all kinds of weapons, and her person decorated with a huge necklace of human skulls. In order to propitiate this terrible divinity, a system has been developed which is perhaps the most remarkable, illogical, and best regulated system that is to be found upon the face of the earth. It is simply murder raised to the rank of a religious rite, and differs from all other human sacrifices in that blood is not shed, that the victim is always killed by stratagem, and that the worshippers need neither temple nor altar.
The members of the society call themselves Thugs, from a Hindoo word which signifies “deception,” and which is given to them in consequence of the mode in which the victims are entrapped. In some parts of India they are called Phânsigars, from a Sanscrit word which signifies “a noose.” Perhaps the strangest point, in this country of strict and separate caste, is that the Thugs do not belong to one caste, nor even to one religion. They all agree in worshipping Kali, but in other respects they admit among their numbers men and women of all castes, and a large number of them are Mahommedans, who have no caste at all. Indeed, the Mahommedan Thugs claim for themselves the origin of the system, though the Hindoos say that it was in existence long before the time of Mahommed.
They always go in companies, a complete band often consisting of several hundred persons of all ages and both sexes. As the very essence of the sacrifice is secrecy, they assume all kinds of disguises, the usual being that of travelling merchants. In this capacity they act their part to perfection, and endeavor to entice travellers into their clutches.
For this purpose they have a regular organization. At their head they have a chief, or Sirdar, who directs the operations of the band. Then an old experienced Thug acts as instructor, and teaches the younger men how to use the sacred noose by which the victims are strangled. This is not a cord with a running knot, but a sort of handkerchief, which is flung round the neck of the unsuspecting man, and suddenly drawn tight. This noose, or handkerchief, is called the “roomal.” Then come the men who are entrusted with the noose. These are called Bhuttotes, or stranglers, and are generally men possessing both strength and activity. Next are the entrappers, or Sothas, namely, those whose business it is to entrap the victim into a convenient spot for his assassination, and to engage his attention while preparations are being made for his death. Lastly come the Lughaees, or grave-diggers, who prepare the grave for the reception of the body.
The method in which the Thugs perform their sacrifices is almost exactly like that which is employed by the modern garroters, except that a noose is used instead of the arm, and that the victim is always killed, instead of being only made insensible for a time.
Having pitched upon a person whom they think will be a fit offering for Kali, the Sothas manage to induce him to come to the fatal spot. Several days are often spent in this endeavor; for, unless there is every probability that the murder will not be executed before any except members of their own society, the Thugs will not attempt the traveller’s life. The women and children attached to the band are usually employed as Sothas, inasmuch as they would excite less suspicion than if they were men. If the women be young and handsome, they are the more valuable as decoys; and, horrible to say, even young girls take the greatest interest in decoying travellers within the fatal noose.
When the party have arrived at the appointed spot, the attention of the traveller is adroitly directed to some object in front of him, while the Bhuttote who acts the part of executioner steals quietly behind him. Suddenly the noose is flung round the victim’s neck, the knee of the murderer is pressed into his back, and in a short time he ceases to live. Generally the executioner is so adroit at his dread office that the murdered man makes no resistance, but dies almost without a struggle, the first pressure of the noose causing insensibility.
The body of the murdered man is then stripped, and his property falls to the band. Sometimes a whole party of travellers is entrapped by a band of Thugs, and all are simultaneously murdered. This is generally the case when several wealthy men travel together, in which case they and their servants are all murdered in honor of Kali; who, on her part, yields to her servants the goods of the murdered men, by way of recompense for their piety.
The sacrifice over, the body is pierced in several places to prevent it from swelling, and is then laid in the grave. The soil is carefully filled in, and levelled with such ingenious care that scarcely any except those who dug the grave can discover it after the burial. In one case, when an English force was in chase after a band of Thugs, they passed over ground which was full of bodies, and never suspected it until one of the Thug prisoners exultingly pointed out grave after grave as proofs of their success.
After the body is buried, and all signs of the murder removed, the Thugs go through a sort of religious ceremony, sitting round a white cloth, on which are laid the sacred pickaxes with which the graves are dug, a piece of silver, and some sugar. The Sirdar then sits on the sheet, facing westward, with the most accomplished stranglers on either side of him, and distributes the sugar to all present, who eat it in solemn silence. The sheet is then put away, and to all appearance the Thugs are nothing more than a party of harmless travellers.
So secretly is the whole business conducted, that the system has only been discovered within late years. Numbers of persons had mysteriously disappeared; but in India the natives are singularly apathetic, and it is always easy to account for the disappearance of a traveller by saying that he has been carried off by a tiger. The Thugs take the greatest pride in their profession, and, when captured, do not attempt to disguise it, but openly boast of the number of victims whom they have slain, and describe with glee the method in which they destroyed them; and, when themselves led to the gallows, they treat the whole business with calm contempt, having no more care for their own lives than for those of their victims.
We now come to another ceremony, in which human life is sacrificed, though as an adjunct, and not as its essential feature. This is the celebrated procession of Juggernaut, or Jaganatha. The ceremonies connected with this idol, and indeed the invention of the idol itself, seem to be of comparatively modern date, and, except for the great annual procession of the car, are of little interest.
The great temple of the idol is situated in Orissa, rather more than three hundred miles southwest from Calcutta. It is a tall, pyramidal tower, some two hundred feet in height, built of a warm red sandstone, covered with the lime-cement called “chunam.” Being on the sea-coast, this tower is a most useful landmark to navigators in the Bay of Bengal.
Once in every year the great festival of Juggernaut takes place, and the huge idol-car is brought out for the procession. The car is an enormous edifice of wood, more than forty feet high, and thirty-five feet square. This mass of timber is supported on sixteen wheels, each more than six feet in diameter, some of the wheels being under the body of the car. The car itself is plentifully adorned with sculptures of the usual character, and it is conventionally supposed to be drawn by two great wooden horses, which are attached to it in readiness for the procession, and kept inside it during the rest of the year.
On the appointed day three idols are placed in the car. The central figure represents Krishna, and the others are his brother Bala Rama and his sister Sûbhadra. They are nothing but three enormous and hideous busts, not nearly so well carved as the tikis of New Zealand, and, in fact, much resemble the human figures scribbled on walls by little boys. Stout and long cables are attached to the car, by means of which the worshippers of the idol drag it along. The scene that takes place at the procession is most vividly described by Bruton:—
“In this chariot, on their great festal days, at night they place their wicked god, Jaggarnat; and all the Bramins, being in number nine thousand, attend this great idol, besides of ashmen and fackeeres (fakirs) some thousands, or more than a good many.
“The chariot is most richly adorned with most rich and costly ornaments; and the aforesaid wheels are placed very complete in a round circle, so artificially that every wheel doth its proper office without any impediment; for the chariot is aloft, and in the centre betwixt the wheels: they have also more than two thousand lights with them. And this chariot, with the idol, is also drawn with the greatest and best men of the town; and they are so greedy and eager to draw it, that whosoever, by shouldering, crowding, shoving, heaving, thrusting, or in any insolent way, can but lay a hand upon the rope, they think themselves blessed and happy; and when it is going along the city, there are many that will offer themselves as a sacrifice to this idol, and desperately lie down on the ground, that the chariot-wheels may run over them, whereby they are killed outright; some get broken arms, some broken legs, as that many of them are so destroyed; and by this means they think to merit heaven.”
Another of the earlier writers on this subject states that many persons lie down in the track of the car a few hours before it starts, and, taking a powerful dose of opium, or “bhang,” i. e. Indian hemp, meet death while still unconscious.
In former days the annual assemblage at the temple of Juggernaut, which is to the Hindoos what Mecca is to the Mahommedans, was astonishing, a million and a half of pilgrims having been considered as the average number. Putting aside the comparative few who perished under the wheels of the great car (for, indeed, had the whole road been paved with human bodies, they would have been but a few), the number that died from privation and suffering was dreadful.
We know by many a sad experience how difficult it is to feed a large army, even with the great advantage of discipline on the part of the commissariat and the recipients. It is therefore easy to see how terrible must be the privation when a vast multitude, quadruple the number of any army that ever took the field, arrives simultaneously from all directions at a place where no arrangements have been made to supply them with provisions, and where, even if the locality could furnish the requisite food, the greater number of the pilgrims are totally without money, and therefore unable to pay for food. In those days the pilgrims perished by thousands, as much victims to Juggernaut as those who were crushed under his chariot wheels, and, indeed, suffering a far more lingering and painful death. Still, according to their belief, they died in the performance of their duty, and by that death had earned a high place in the paradise of the Hindoos.
Such was the case before the English raj was established in India. Since that time a gradual but steady diminution has taken place in the number of the pilgrims to Juggernaut’s temple; and we have lately seen a most astonishing and portentous event. Formerly, the vast crowd of worshippers pressed and crowded round the cables by which the car was drawn, trying to lay but a hand upon the sacred rope. Of late years the Brahmins have found fewer and fewer devotees for this purpose, and on one occasion, in spite of all their efforts, the ropes were deserted, and the car left stationary, to get along as it could.
As to the idol Juggernaut itself, Bruton gives a curious description of it, saying that it is in shape like a serpent with seven heads, and that on the cheeks of each head there are wings which open and shut and flap about as the car moves along.
An idol in the form of a five-headed cobra is mentioned by Messrs. Tyerman and Bennett in their “Missionary Voyages”: “We happened to be visiting a very handsomely built stone temple (at Allahabad), covered with well executed sculptures of their idols, holy persons, etc., in stone of the highest relief. In the temple were several stone idols representing the serpent—the cobra capella, or hooded snake. The largest, which represents a serpent twelve feet long, with five heads, and the heads all expanded, coiled into a sort of Gordian knot, is the principal object of worship in this temple.
“While we were looking at this stone snake, a horrid-looking man, unclothed, rushed in (he was about twenty-five years old), being covered with ashes, and his huge quantity of hair matted with mud dust. His eyes appeared inflamed; he bowed before the serpent, then prostrated himself, afterward respectfully touched his head, looked fixedly upon the serpent, prostrated himself again, then touched it and rushed out, as if in a paroxysm of delight at the thought of having worshipped this thing. When he got out of the temple, he walked all round within the verandah, and, having once more bowed at the door of the temple, he departed with a hurried step. We cannot conceive of any human being having more the appearance of a demoniac than this miserable creature, who, nevertheless, is regarded by the poor Hindoos as one of the holiest of men.”
Another form of human sacrifice was intended, like the prostration under Juggernaut’s car, to take the devotee to Paradise, though by a less painful and less revolting process.
The Ganges has always been reckoned as a most sacred stream, whose waters wash from the soul all taint of sin. There is, however, one spot, namely, the confluence of the Jumna with the Ganges, which is so very sacred, that any one who dies there must of necessity go straight to Paradise. It is evident, therefore, that the simplest plan of entering Paradise is to ensure death at the junction of the rivers. For this purpose the devotee entered a boat, and tied to each of his feet a chatty or earthenware jar filled with sand. The boat was rowed into mid-stream, and the devotee dropped overboard into the river. The boats used for this purpose were kept by Brahmins, who charged a fee for officiating at the sacrifice.
Sometimes the devotees managed to sacrifice themselves without the assistance of the Brahmins and their boat. They tied an empty chatty to their waists in front and behind, and, buoyed up by the empty vessels, paddled themselves with their hands until they reached the desired spot. They then scooped water into the chatties, until they were filled, and so sank, the weight of the vessels being sufficient to take them to the bottom. In like manner are corpses entrusted to the keeping of the holy river, when the relatives of the deceased are not able to afford the great expense of a funeral pile. The body is surrounded by lighted straw, so that it is scorched, and therefore considered to be purified by fire. Two chatties are then fastened to it, the relatives tow the body into mid-stream, fill the chatties with water, and allow the body to sink. What becomes of it afterward they care nothing, and though it be devoured by the many creatures of prey which haunt the rivers in search of their loathsome food, they are perfectly satisfied with their share in its disposal.
In many cases beasts are substituted for human sacrifices. A short, stout post is fixed in the ground, and on its top is cut a deep notch, in which is received the neck of the animal, the size of the notch and height of the post being suited to the size of the victim. Sacrifices are thus offered to Doorga, the goddess of nature, and it is of the utmost importance that the head of the victim should be severed at a single blow. This is easy enough with a lamb, or even a goat, but when a buffalo is to be sacrificed, the success of the blow is so doubtful that many ceremonies are employed to ensure its right performance. The sacrificial knife is a tremendous weapon, shaped something like a bill-hook, very broad, very heavy, and kept as sharp as a razor. When the sacrifice is to take place, the buffalo is brought to the post, which stands before the ten-armed image of Doorga, its horns are painted red, turmeric is poured over its head, water from the Ganges is sprinkled over it, and garlands of flowers are hung about its neck.
The animal is then placed so that its neck rests in the fork of the post, to which it is firmly secured by an iron bar which passes through holes in the fork, and presses its head downward. The body is supported on a mound of earth in front of the post, and the legs are drawn apart and held by ropes, so that a movement is impossible. The sacrificer, always a man of great muscular power, then comes forward and takes the sacrificial knife from the altar before Doorga’s statue, and, together with the assembled multitude, prays that strength may be given to enable him to fulfil his office.
Amid the breathless silence of the assembled worshippers, he raises the heavy blade, and with one blow drives it through the neck of the helpless victim. As the head falls to the ground, it is snatched up by the officiating Brahmins, who offer it to the goddess, while the people, in a frenzy of delight, dance round the sacrificer, embrace him, chant songs in his honor, and crown him with garlands of flowers. The body of the buffalo becomes the property of the spectators, who struggle for it until one party gains the superiority over the other, and carries off the prize. Around the blood, that lies in pools on the ground, the multitude crowd, dip their fingers in it, and daub it on their bodies and on the walls of the temple.
The goddess Doorga, to whom these sacrifices are made, is in fact Kali under another title; the former name meaning the Inaccessible, and the latter the Black One. She is represented as the wife of the Destroying God, Shiva, and as the mother of the God of War, Kartikeya. As Doorga, her many-armed figure is carved of wood, or modelled in pasteboard, and painted rose color. She is seated cross-legged on a peacock, and surrounded by many other deities of the multitudinous Hindoo mythology. Before her is represented a man being devoured by a nondescript beast, something like the heraldic griffin. As soon as the sacrifice is over, the goddess is supposed to depart from her image, which is then taken in procession to the Ganges, and amid the deafening shouts of the people, the blast of trumpets, and the beating of kettle-drums, is cast into the stream.
The reader may remember that on page 1413 was given a short description of a holy man who came to worship the many-headed snake-god. He was one of the Fakirs, or Jogis, i. e. ascetics, who in India are wonderfully numerous, and submit themselves to the most dreadful tortures in honor of their deities. By rights the Fakirs are Mohammedans, though the English have been accustomed to call both the Mohammedan and Hindoo ascetics by the common title of Fakir. “Jogi” is the usual title for the Hindoo devotees, though they are divided into a number of sects, such as Bairágès, Sangasés, Gosárés, &c.
In all ages and in almost all countries, there have been religious enthusiasts, who have sought to gain the favor or propitiate the anger of the deity by voluntary suffering, but there is perhaps no country where we find so great a variety of this principle as we do in India. There are Mohammedan as well as Hindoo ascetics, and the latter have this advantage, that they need not belong to any particular caste. To describe fully the extraordinary proceedings of these men would occupy much more space than can be afforded, and we will therefore only take a few of the most characteristic examples.
One of the commonest, as well as one of the lightest, of these tortures is, to have the tongue bored with a red-hot iron. This practice used to prevail largely at Chinsurah, at the temple of the Bull-god. Under a clump of banyan trees the devotees assembled in order to inflict various tortures upon themselves, and by far the most common was that of tongue boring. The operation was performed by a native smith, who was reckoned very skilful at it, and at certain seasons he was completely beset by applicants, doubly clamorous in the first place to have their tongues bored, and in the next to have it done as cheaply as possible. At these seasons he used to range the applicants in regular lines, and take them in their turn, varying his fee according to their number, rank, and impatience.
A strange instance of self-torture is described by Colonel Campbell. At Colar, the birthplace of Tippoo Sultan, a man was seen marching up and down before a mosque, chanting a hymn. He was shod with a pair of wooden sandals, not tied but nailed to his feet by long iron spikes that had been driven through the sole and projected above the instep. Yet he walked with a firm, unconcerned step, and chanted his measured tune as if utterly unconscious of the horrible torture which each step must have cost him.
Sometimes these devotees show their piety by long pilgrimages to certain sacred spots, making the journey as difficult and fanciful as possible. Some will lie on the ground and roll the whole distance, while others measure the track by prostrating themselves on their faces, marking the spot where their heads lay, getting up, placing their feet on the marked spot, and then prostrating themselves again. Sometimes they will lie on their backs and push themselves along the road by their heels, thus cutting and bruising their backs terribly against the rough ground. Some of these men practise a most extraordinary penance in honor of the goddess Doorga, a penance which in some respects resembles the initiation of the Mandans. A stout pole, some twenty feet high, is fixed in the ground, and a long bamboo is placed horizontally over the top, on which it revolves by means of a pivot. Sometimes two or even three poles cross each other on the top of the post. Ropes hang from each end of the bamboos, and to half of them are fastened large unbarbed hooks of polished iron. The devotees having placed themselves under the bamboo, the hooks are run into their backs, and by persons hauling on the rope at the other end of the bamboo they are raised into the air. The men who hold the ropes then run in a circle, so as to swing the devotees round at a great pace, the whole weight of their bodies being borne by the hooks. While swinging they scatter flowers and other gifts among the spectators, who eagerly scramble for them, thinking they possess very great virtues.
Both men and women submit to this terrible torture, and do so for a variety of reasons. Some permit themselves to be swung in pure honor of the goddess, some do it in fulfilment of a vow, while many submit to the operation for pay, acting as substitutes of persons who have made the vow and are afraid to fulfil it personally, or who prefer honoring the goddess by deputy rather than in their own person. From one to two rupees, i. e. from two to four shillings, is considered a fair price to the substitute.
Sometimes the upright post is fastened upon an ordinary bullock wagon, and is shorter than when it is fixed in the ground. After the hooks have been inserted, the opposite end of the bamboo is drawn down, so as to elevate the devotee some thirty feet in the air, and made fast to the wagon. The cart is then drawn as fast as possible round the enclosure by six or eight bullocks, which are harnessed to it for the occasion, and selected for their speed.
In many instances, the Jogis (pronounced Yogees) perform their penance by keeping one or more of their limbs in one attitude, until after a time it becomes incapable of motion, and the muscles almost entirely waste away. Some of these men will hold one arm stretched upward to its fullest extent. This is done by supporting the arm by a cord when the wearied muscles refuse to uphold the limb any longer. In some instances, where the Jogi has clenched his hand, the nails have grown fairly through the hand, forced their way through the back, and hung nearly to the wrist.
A very common practice is to sit completely motionless, in which case the legs become in time totally incapable of moving, so that the man could not change his position even if he desired to do so. In some instances they even go beyond this, and manage to stand instead of sit, with scarcely any support for their bodies during sleep. One of these men is described by Mr. Williamson: “Within a few yards of the river on our left stood one of those horrid figures called a yogee, or Indian saint,—a gentleman beggar, who had placed himself in a certain attitude, from which he had vowed never to swerve during the remainder of his life, but to spend his life in mental abstraction.
“He appeared on a platform of earth raised about eighteen inches from the ground. At one end of this mound (which might be seven feet long by five broad) were erected two bamboos, seven or eight feet high, and sufficiently apart for him to stand between them. At elbow height a broad board was placed from one bamboo to the other, and upon the middle of this another piece of plank, two feet long by five inches wide, was fixed, sloping upward from him. He therefore, standing on the platform, and resting his arms upon the cross-bar, held with his hands on each side of the upright sloping board. He seemed to press equally on either foot, leaning a little forward, with his face turned rather aside, and raised toward the sun.
“His personal appearance was squalid and miserable. His body was daubed all over with blue mud; his hair—long, matted, discolored to a yellowish brown with exposure—dangled in all directions. His beard was bushy and black, and the rest of his face so disfigured with hair, that it might be said to be all beard.
“Not the slightest motion in one of his limbs, nor in a muscle of his countenance, was perceptible. He was altogether without clothing, except a slip of brown stuff about the loins. He wore the ‘poita,’ or sacred thread, indicating that he was a Brahmin. Night and day, it is understood, the wretched sufferer (if indeed his state can be called one of suffering) maintains without any variation this paralyzing position.”
Mr. Bennett then expresses some disbelief in the constant immobility of the devotee, and evidently suspects him to be an impostor, who, under cover of night, leaves his post, and refreshes himself with sleep in a recumbent position. This, however, was certainly not the case, and indeed the very language of the account shows that it could not be so. A very long period must have elapsed before the devotee in question could have trained his body to remain, as Mr. Bennett admits was the case, without the movement of a muscle during the whole time that his proceedings were watched. And, before such a consummation could have been attained, the limbs of the man must have been so entirely stiffened by non-usage, that they would be as inflexible as if they had been cut out of wood or stone, and whether he stood or lay would have been a matter of perfect indifference. As to sitting, or assuming any attitude that involved the flexion of a limb, it would have been utterly impossible.
We may see a similar phenomenon, if it may be so called, among ourselves. There is not one man in a thousand who preserves the normal flexibility of his limbs, unless he be a professional athlete. Naturally, the limbs of every man and woman are as flexible as those of the posture-masters, who can cross their feet over the back of their necks, pick up a coin with their mouths from the ground between their heels, or sit on the ground with their legs stretched straight at either side of their bodies. But, unless men preserve this flexibility by constant use, the limbs become stiff, and it is quite as difficult, not to say impossible, for an ordinary Englishman to perform the feats of the professional acrobat, as it is for the Jogi to bend the knees or ankles that have been unbent for a series of years.
Moreover, the spectators who assemble round such devotees, and who never leave him unwatched by day or night, would be very ready to detect any attempt at imposture, and would be excited by it to such a pitch of religious fury, that the man would be torn to pieces by the excited crowd. And the very fact that the man was a Brahmin was proof enough that he was no impostor. By virtue of his Brahminical rank, he was at the summit of humanity. Had he been a low-caste man, he might with reason have been suspected of imposture, in order to obtain respect from his countrymen. But, as the man was already a Brahmin, such imposture was totally needless, and his devotion, superstitious and fanatical as it might be, was undoubtedly sincere.