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agreement to have separated into several bodies, in order the better to baffle pursuit and scour the country."

In a manner that seems almost incredible, they perfectly succeeded in both, and,

"It was ascertained that nearly the whole of those Pindarries who had passed the Nerbudda in February, had recrossed before the 17th of May, bringing a second immense harvest of booty within the year, and without having suffered any loss worthy of mention. Some idea may be formed of the extent of ravage and cruelty which marked the track of these banditti, from what was found to be the damage sustained by the Company's districts during the twelve days that they remained within the frontier. It was ascertained by a committee, sent to the spot for the express purpose of investigating, that three hundred and thirty-nine villages had been plundered, one hundred and eighty-two individuals* put to a cruel death, five hundred and five severely wounded, and no less than three thousand six hundred and three had been subjected to different kinds of torture."

Unable as they had been to intercept them in their retreat, the British, having taken the most energetic measures, appeared on the banks of the Nerbudda, which may be considered as the frontier river of the Pindarries, to prevent any further incursion on their part, by the month of October following.

This first appearance of a British army (weak though it was!) in the valley of the Nerbudda, spread consternation amongst the Pindarries, and the leader Cheetoo, who occupied a canton

A great number of women destroyed them. selves to escape violation. No less than twentyfive drowned themselves for this purpose, several with infants. At Mavolee, where some resistance was attempted by the villagers, the women, seeing their protectors about to be overpowered, set fire to the house in which they had assembled to abide the result; and no less than ten, with six children, perished in the flames. Another woman, having fallen into the hands of the savages, and seeing no other means of destruction, tore out her tongue, and instantly expired! Many similar horrors, and some barbarities even more revolting to humanity, will be found recorded at length in the Report of the Committee.

No. 90*- Vol. XV.

ment on the opposite side of the river, immediately withdrew with all his own durra.

pre

Emboldened, however, by observing that the English did not cross the Nerbudda to attack them, they, after suffering some weeks of abeyance, came to the resolution of pushing small parties across the river, which were to insinuate themselves between the posts, or to turn the flanks of the British line, when they were to pursue the same system of datory incursion as before. In their first attempt the robbers were beaten back, but on the 13th of November, while Cheetoo remained in force to the west, large bodies moved with their usual rapidity up the river to the east, "and upwards of five thousand passed the river in sight of the infantry post, on the extreme right of the British line, with a rapidity of movement, which baffled the efforts of the infantry to impede or harass their march. In this manner the passage was effected by others, in sufficient numbers to form two luhburs or expeditions."

Owing to the admirable arrangements made, and to the almost equally wonderful activity of the British, and to sundry others causes, these raids were far from being so successful as the preceding. An immense number of the Pindarries were beaten and thrown back in their advance, other hosts cut off in their retreat; and we must entertain a despicable notion of their bravery when we see them continually fleeing from a handful of men, and beaten every time they are met with. Still, however, their depredations this year embraced a more ample expanse of territory, than had ever before been attempted, extending from shore to shore of the peninsula of India, and including all the intermediate provinces they had omitted the preceding

year.

The following year (1817) after making several unsuccessful attempts at incursions, the Pindarries were hard pressed by the British and their allies, who, under Sir John Malcolm, General Marshall, and Colonel Adams, crossed the Nerbudda, about the middle of November, and drove the free-booters entirely out of their usual haunts. Cheetoo K K

retreated westward with his accustomed celerity towards Holkur's forces which had already taken the field. Holkur received him with friendship and distinction, admitting him to an audience, and allowing him to pitch his camp close to his own. The robber could not, however, long enjoy the benefit of this alliance, for Holkur was induced to conclude a friendly treaty with the British. Immediately after this, as Cheetoo was considered by far the most dangerous of the Pindarry chiefs, Sir William Keir with a fresh division of our army, was sent in pursuit of him, and succeeded in partially cutting up his durra in the neighbourhood of Satoolla.

"Harassed by the activity of Sir William's pursuit, the marauders endeavoured to retrace their steps to their haunts in Malwa, and in the valley of the Nerbudda. Cheetoo succeeded in baffling every effort made to overtake him, and effected his object, by penetrating through a most difficult country to the south of Mewur. He suddenly reappeared near Dhar, where a very high range of hills sends forth the streams which form the Mhye, a considerable river emptying itself into the Gulf of Kambay. In this extraordinary march he was obliged to disencumber himself of his baggage, and lost many of his horses."

He was now lost sight of for some time. Meanwhile the best of his fellow chiefs with their durras had been annihilated by the British. As for his own durra, though it had suffered much in detail, it was still strong, having, under his wonderful guidance, escaped a rencounter with any of our forces in the open field. But his active enemies were gathering closer and closer, around his last lair, and were no longer to be avoided. On the night of the 25th January, 1818, a strong party of the British came upon him, near Kurnod, and utterly broke up his band. The Bheels and Grasseas (robbers by birth, education and profession, but "pettylarceny rascals" compared to the Pindarries,) were encouraged to plunder and destroy the fugitives, a commission they executed with becoming zeal!

Cheetoo, however, escaped Bheels and Grasseas, as he had so often the English,

and for a short time wandered about Malwa, with some two hundred followers. His affairs, however, became every day more desperate. Sir John Malcolm, in his account of Malwa, gives the following little anecdote regarding Cheetoo, precisely at this time of his extreme difficulties. (It must be remembered that the sea is called by all the natives of central India, "Kala panee," or black water, and that they have the most terrible ideas of it, and the countries beyond it.)

When Cheetoo, the Pindarry chief, was flying in hopeless misery from the English, he was often advised by his followers to surrender to their mercy. He was possessed, however, by the dreadful idea, that they would transport him beyond the seas, and this was more hideous to him than death. These followers, who all, one after another, came in and obtained pardon, related, that during their captain's short and miserable sleep, he used continually to murmur, "Kala panee! Kala panee!" (the Black Sea! O the Black Sea!)

At this conjuncture, it struck him that the Nuwab of Bhopal, one of our allies, might make terms for himself and his few remaining followers with the English: and rapidly acting on this idea, he suddenly entered the camp of the Nuwab, who was astonished beyond measure at his boldness.

"But when Cheetoo learned from the Nuwab, that he had nothing to offer beyond a slender personal maintenance in some distant part of Hindostan, while he demanded a jageer in Malwa, and the entertainment of himself and men in the British service, he decamped as suddenly as he had come. While he staid, his horses were constantly saddled, and the men slept with the bridles in their hands, ready to fly instantly, in case of an attempt to seize them. Preparations were making for the purpose, the very night he went off; but he was too well on his guard, and too much alive to suspicion, to allow them to be completed. He was, however, instantly pursued by the Nuwab's people; and General Malcolm also sent out parties to take him, which distressed him so much, that Rajun (one

* Memoir on Central India.

of his most faithful and valuable adherents), left him, and made his submission. Yet Cheetoo subsequently found his way into Kandês, and the Deccan, and made common cause with the marauding Arabs and chiefs of the Pêshwa's routed army, with whom he became assimilated, receiving occasional protection from the Kiladar of the fortress of Aseerguhr. His durra was now completely destroyed, his followers, one by one, had almost entirely deserted him, but nothing could subdue the robber's spirit, or induce him to surrender. His end, however, approached, and it was tragical and singular. Having joined ApaSaheb, he passed the rainy season of 1818 in the mountainous heights of the Mohadeo range; and upon that chief's repulsion, in February, 1819, accompanied him to the fort of Aseerguhr. Being refused admittance to the fort, he sought shelter in a neighbouring jungle, and, on horseback and alone, attempted to penetrate a thick cover, known to be infested by tigers. He was missed for some days after, and no one knew what had become of him. His horse was at last discovered grazing, near the margin of the forest, saddled and bridled, and exactly in the state in which it was when Chetoo had last been seen upon it. Upon search, a bag of two hundred and fifty rupees was found in the saddle; and several seal rings, with some letters of Apa-Saheb, promising future reward, served more completely to fix the identity of the horse's late master.

These circumstances, combined with the known resort of tigers to the spot, induced search for the body, when, at no great distance, some clothes clotted with blood, and, further on, fragments of bones, and at last the robber's head entire, with the features in a state to be recognized, were successively discovered. The chief's mangled remains were given over to his son for interment, and the miserable fate of one, who so shortly before had ridden at the head of twenty thousand horse, gave an awful lesson of the uncertainty of fortune, and drew pity even from those who had been the victims of his barbarity when living."

* Princeps.

This eastern robber had himself outlived the curious but abominable association to which he had belonged. Their name, and the melancholy traces of their devastation, which are almost obliterated by re-established order and industry, are all that remain of the Pindarries, whose disappearance from the scenes of India cannot be more appropriately described than in the words of Sir John Malcolm, to whom we are indebted for the account of their rise and institutions, and who was himself the principal agent in bringing about their fall.

"There now," says that gallant officer and able writer, "remains not a spot in India that a Pindarry can call his home. They have been hunted like wild beasts; numbers have been killed; all ruined. Those who adopted their cause have fallen. They were early in the contest shunned like a contagion, and even the timid villagers, whom they so recently oppressed, were among the foremost to attack them. Their principal leaders have either died, submitted, or been made captives; while their fol lowers, with the exception of a few, whom the liberality and consideration of the British government have aided to become industrious, are lost in that population, from whose dregs they originally issued. A minute investigation only, can discover these once formidable disturbers, concealed as they now are among the lowest classes, where they are making some amends for past atrocities, by the benefit which is derived from their labour in restoring trade and cultivation. These freebooters had none of the prejudices of caste, for they belonged to all tribes. They never had either the pride of soldiers, of family, or of country, so that they were bound by none of those ties which, among many of the communities in India, assume an almost indestructible character. Other plunderers may arise from distempered times; but as a body, the Pindarries are so effectually destroyed, that their name is already almost forgotten, though not five years are passed since it spread terror and dismay over all India."+

+ Memoir of Central India, Vol. I. Chap. X

MARIUS AMIDST THE RUINS OF CARTHAGE.

Masters of passion sway it to the mood
Of what it likes, or loathes.

SHAKESPEARE.

1.

THE sloping rays of the declining sun

Gleam'd o'er the wreck of Carthage; where the ashes,
Heap'd from his borrow'd fires, in masses dun
And blacken'd, lay around. Pale Ruin there

Had done her worst. The angry storm, which lashes
The earth-girt rock, and lays it's summit bare,
Had been a kindlier foe.-There, palaces
Which erst, in her prosperity, did rise
Like everlasting temples to the skies,—

Their costly hangings, stiff with wreathed gold,
Their goblets carv'd and golden chalices,
The massive relics of achievement bold :-
There, of remoter times the proud remains
Vast, tow'ring columns propping loftier fanes,
With all their gorgeous tracery, and all
The sumptuous ornaments of festal hall-

The" pomp and circumstance" of princely state-
All that makes man, amidst his nothing, great
Had added to the wreck.-The pillar'd pile,
The spire that laugh'd amid the thunder-cloud,
The temple with its idol-cursed guile!
The trick of priest-craft to delude the crowd-
Deck'd like a corpse within a gilded shroud,
As foul, as senseless, and as mute a thing-
Were all-all levell'd with the dust; o'er all,
The slug and fouler earth-worm vilely crawl,
Or, 'neath the wreck of temples harbouring,
Leave their thick slime, where once the marble shone
Like an eternal mirror in the sun.

II.

Carthage! where now thy beauty! where, alas!
Thy pride of pageantry, thy pomp; and where
Those mighty navies which had aw'd the world?
Their flaunting sails are now for ever furl'd!
Thy halls are desolate; the wiry grass

And weeds-the rankest-choke thy pathways:-there
Sits moody Silence, pointing to the skies,
With palsied tongue, with fix'd and rayless eyes,
Where, by the hand of everlasting fame

Is traced, in living light, immortal Scipio's name.

III.

Carthage! within thy walls the lizard dwells
Where erst the cricket chirp'd; and the foul cells
Of squalid reptiles are discovered, where

The sleek mouse had her dwelling. The meek hare
Sits unaffrighted 'mid thy shatter'd domes,
Where heroes once had fix'd their noblest homes.

Amid thy ruins, vast and desolate,

No human creature wanders; or but one
A lone, a stern and solitary man,
Stern as the blacken'd rock he sits upon,
Harsher his spirit, and as dark his fate.
There, on the fragment of a massy stone
That, ere the fiercely-crackling flames had riv'n
Its giant bulk, look'd up and laught at heav'n,
Perch'd like a vulture, ominous and grim,
The very reptiles all avoiding him,

He sits, his moody reverie began

Which stirr'd his heart to slaughter.-There alone
Houseless he sits, upon that rocky throne,
His own appropriate emblem;-for the flint
Could not more sternly brave the thunder's dint
Than his hard heart compassion's soft appeal.
Amid the scene his dizzy senses reel

With thoughts too dire to utter.

IV.

There he sits,

By whom the mighty Cimbri were chastis'd,
As if his very soul were paraliz'd.
And yet his stern eye glares in moody fits
O'er the surrounding waste, as if he view'd
His own state pictur'd in its solitude.
Dark and as still as night he sits alone,

Like a doom'd spirit on that riven stone

And, in his murkiness of mind, broods o'er

Real or imagin'd wrongs, while o'er his heart

Thro' which the black blood bounds, with fever'd start,

A thirst of vengeance steals, and at the core

Parches and burns it up.-He looks towards Rome,

The city of his pride, the warrior's home ;—

How dif'rent to the ruins round him lying!

That city's rival once, which now no more,

Sends forth her barks to earth's remotest shore.

He looks towards Rome-imperial Rome-defying

The wide world round her. Rome! he looks towards thee,

While his heart throbs with inward agony,

And from his eye Revenge's hot streams pour.

v.

Soon the bark bears him o'er the waters-soon

Joy, in the flood of woe, shall quench her beams,

And her faint voice be drown'd in the shrill screams

Of sanguinary slaughter.—Ere the moon

Again shall fill her silver horns with light,

The sun of happiness shall set in night.

Marius is nigh thee, Rome!-a heartless son,
That, like the adder, loves to prey upon
The bowels of its parent.-Ah! beware!

The voice of carnage soon shall rend the air—
Rome hears it now-she hears, with mad surprise,
And, glutted with her blood, the ruthless savage dies.

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