Naraku
Draconarius
Observations and Experiences from My Travels in India
by G. B. Turner, Esq.
(Edited by Naraku)
by G. B. Turner, Esq.
(Edited by Naraku)
[Editors note: In 1853, G. B. Turner, Esq. of Baltimore, Maryland, a distant relative of mine, traveled to India in order to settle the estate of one of his firm’s clients. He kept a journal of his experiences during this journey which he later compiled into a manuscript, possibly intending publication. So far as I have been able to determine, the book was never published. I have also been unable to locate his original notes. I found the manuscript among the possessions of my grandfather whom, I believe, was descended from one of Mr Turner’s paternal uncles.
The following is an edited section of that manuscript. I have omitted the more mundane and tedious portions. Mr Turner was a lawyer and could therefore be quit verbose and often overly florid in his language. He also was a keen observe and meticulous in recording details which, while they might be interesting to some, contribute nothing to the overall story.
I have not altered any of the language of the manuscript. Please, keep this in mind. Mr Turner was a man of his time and place. Although, by the standards of the era, he was quite enlightened and open minded, he still shared many of the prejudices and stereotypes of the times. Some of the terms and descriptions may be offensive to modern readers.]
Chapter X – Madras
[Mr Turner arrived in Madras, a port in southeastern India controlled by the British East India Company, on the 11th of April, 1853. He met with the Company’s representative, Sir Percival Pettigrew, in order to obtain assistance in reaching his final destination, the Kingdom of Maheshibad. On the 17th, they and Major Andrew Erskine of the Company’s military met with Lieutenant James Shaw, who was to command the escort for Mr Turner’s trip, at the Madras Police headquarters. - N]
Unlike his superior, Lieutenant Shaw had the more informal and devil-may-care persona that one will find typical of junior officers in Colonial service. He also had the swagger and jovial rakishness that seems the norm for cavalry men in all armies. He was a lean, dark haired man in his mid twenties with a waxed mustache and bristling mutton chops. He had already been informed of my mission and seemed quite eager to take myself and the others who would be joining us on an excursion into the interior. Furthermore, he had had the occasion to meet with the Maharajah in the past and was looking forward to being again in his company. At the moment, however, he was overseeing a different matter and asked if we would like to observe. Knowing that I was a lawyer, he thought I might like to see the fashion of police procedure in this country. The manner in which he asked, with a devilish glint in his eyes, caused me to suspect that he had some ulterior motive. But, ever the one to seek out new experiences, I took him up on his offer. Sir Percival had to excuse himself as he had other business to attend to, but Major Erskine remained, though he seemed somewhat put out by the matter.
We adjourned to courtyard of the police headquarters. This was a large square about fifty feet on each side with the two storied headquarters forming three sides and a lower building making up the far side. The courtyard itself was made of packed earth. There were four wooden post, each about eight feet tall standing four feet apart and lined up parallel to the veranda that ran along the back of the main building. Each post had an iron band with a ring attached just below the top.
There were some of the Native Police standing near these posts. Whilst the Major and I seated ourselves in chair on the veranda, Shaw approached the policemen. He spoke to one of them in their native tongue, with which, I learned, he was quite fluent. The man, a stocky, barrel chested brown skinned fellow with a thick, drooping mustache; was, I would be informed, the Sargent in command, named Ashvan. Ashvan chuckled at whatever Shaw told him, then barked an order to the others, causing them to hasten off into the building on the right. Meanwhile, the Lieutenant joined us and appraised us of the circumstances surrounding what was about to transpire.
In seems that, in a nearby village, a farm named Kalyan had attacked a tax collector in the course of his duties. He had thrashed the man so savagely that he lay near death for several days and, though he had recovered, he had lost use of his right eye and even now, some thirty days later, was unable to resume his duties.
Knowing that he would surely face death for such an offense, Kalyan had fled with his family to another village where he had kinsmen. Lieutenant Shaw had been dispatched, along with a contingent of Sepoys, as the soldiers recruited from among the native population are called, to bring the miscreant to justice. By the time they had reached the village, Kalyan had fled again. This time, however, he had taken only his two sons and had left his wife and daughter behind. Perhaps he had believed that they would be safely hidden by his relations. However, in exchange for a few coins, one of the villagers had pointed them out and the two had been arrested and brought to Madras.
Both claimed to have no knowledge of the whereabouts of Kalyan. But, the Lieutenant and Sargent Ashvan did not believe them and Major Erskine agreed that they should be interrogated more forcefully. The Major informed me that, unlike in England or America, in India, a man’s family shared responsibility for his crimes.
[TBC]