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CHAPTER VII LADIES LAST “LADIES first,” we say in the West; in the East it is “Ladies last.” That sums up succinctly the difference in the domestic ideas of the two civilisations. There are
one
hundred and forty millions of women in India, and their sphere is the
backyard.
This is literally correct of about ten millions, and metaphorically so
of the
rest. They are not even accorded a back seat in society, for in the
presence of
men they are not permitted to be seated. The whole duly of woman is to
worship
and wait upon her husband (who is her lord and master in its most
exacting
sense), and to bear him sons. In some classes, she had better be barren
than
bear only daughters. And if she is a high-caste Hindu, the very wisest
thing
she can do is to die when her husband does, for after that she becomes
a cursed
superfluity in the community. This again is literal. Five
sixths of the
upper ten millions of Indian women live secluded in hareem or zenana;
the terms are synonymous for the “women’s quarters,” but the former is
only
applied to Mahomedan households. No male, except the woman’s husband,
father-in-law, and brothers-in-law, ever passes the threshold of this
privacy,
therefore no European, except a woman, can write about it, except from
second-hand. An Englishman may spend twenty years in India and not see
the
faces of twenty zenana
women, and
then only by accident. The most he will be able to observe is their
be-ringed
toes in transit, as when they are smuggled, with prodigious caution,
out of a
litter into a railway-carriage, veiled almost to suffocation, or with
curtains
held up round about them like little perambulating bathing-tents. In
some
Mahomedan cities, streets have been cleared for the passage of dames of
high
degree, and there are authentic cases of high-class Mahomedans having
killed
their wives because their faces were accidentally exposed to a
fellow-man. Some
Blue-beard Hindus have done as much to theirs by way of precaution. There are
races
that do not seclude their womenfolk, and castes who allow theirs more
or less
freedom; the masses have a great deal too much work for their wives to
do to
permit them the luxury of seclusion. But whether free or confined in hareem or zenana,
it is always “ladies last.” The custom
of
secluding women is of Mahomedan origin, and its adoption was forced on
the
Hindus after the conquest of India by the followers of the Prophet, who
were
sad rakes. The system is now firmly rooted amongst the higher castes,
and some,
in particular, are insanely jealous about the privacy of their wives.
There is
no chivalry in India, and a dastard want of confidence in the chastity
of his
womankind is the most contemptible national trait of the average
native. Every
right-minded Englishman would itch to kick the Hindu or Mahomedan who
put into
language his views about the weaker sex. The
inferiority and
infirmity of woman is a part of the Mahomedan’s creed. He has no
respect for
her, and the heaven he hopes to win is peopled with mythical houris, who are young and
beautiful
damsels. The white-bearded patriarch looks forward to meeting these,
not the
wife who may have been his faithful partner for a lifetime. The
indulgence of
an unbounded sensuality is the Mahomedan’s highest reward in a future
state. In
his present existence, self-gratification is tempered by circumstances.
The
Koran allows him four wives at a time, and divorce at pleasure. But the
economics of population and the expense of matrimony make general
polygamy
impracticable, and only about five per cent. of the Mahomedans of India
have
more than one wife. But whether one or four, she or they are mere
chattels and
instruments of their husband’s pleasure. In his treatment and
assessment of the
sex, you may measure the standard of his moral conceptions. The sexual
status
of the Hindu woman is even worse than that of her Mahomedan sister. The
Institutes of Manu, the great lawgiver of Hinduism, define her position
very
clearly. The wife is the marital property of the husband, and is
classified
with cows, mares, she-camels, buffalo cows, she-goats, and ewes. She is
not
accounted worthy of separate holy rites, fasts, or ceremonies in a
religion
which is compounded of them. All she has to do is literally to worship
her
husband, who is repeatedly described as a virtuous woman’s god. The
husband, on
the other hand, is enjoined “not to love his wife too much,” but only
to let
her have that degree of affection which is necessary. “The fulness of
affection
must be reserved for brothers and other similar connections.” It
redounds to the
credit of the Hindu woman that in the face of these demoralising and
degrading
limitations she should be affectionate, faithful, chaste, industrious,
obedient, patient, forgiving, long-suffering, and cheerful. I cull this
list of
domestic virtues from the mouths of her own mankind, who praise and
imprison
her in the same breath. From other sources I gather that, in the upper
classes,
she is often vain, frivolous, idle, gluttonous, jealous, intriguing,
and
malicious. These detractions may probably be ascribed as much to the
system as
to the woman. The women
who are
immured in hareems and
zenanas are known
as purdah-nashin.
To be a purdah-woman
carries a
certain distinction with it. It is an inference of wealth and
respectability,
and a man’s social standing in his own class depends a good deal on
whether he
can afford to keep his womenfolk secluded or not. In some castes, where
it is
not enforced by custom, there is a tendency to “affect zenana seclusion.” The women
themselves
are said to take a pride in it, as the Chinese ladies do in contracted
feet,
and where, through a reverse of fortune, zenana
ladies have been compelled to abandon the purdah
to seek their livelihood, it has been as a parting from respectability.
And
yet, in our Western view of things, zenana
life may be likened to imprisonment in the second class. It is
confinement of
the most rigorous description, coupled with segregation of sex, and
deprivation
of air, exercise, society, occupation, and scene. But in India, it is
certainly
genteel, not to say obligatory, for most who adopt it. And we
have a
consensus of men’s opinion in declaring that these poor captives are
not
unhappy. Even lady-missionaries have admitted as much. The stale, stock
simile
of the caged canary is quoted, and we are told that absolute ignorance
of what
they lose by confinement prevents any hardship in it. Perhaps it is so;
there
are worse fates than that of the well-to-do zenana
wife, as we shall come to see. Of course
we hear
of unhappiness in the zenana,
but
it is nearly always attributable to causes other than the misery of
physical
confinement. At the same tune, we are told the life develops and
stimulates the
worst passions, and gives rise to intrigue, jealousy, envy, and
murderous hate.
Mrs. Bishop, the well-known traveller, relates how she had been asked
more than
a hundred times by inmates of zenanas
for drugs to be used for disfiguring rival wives or killing their
offspring.
Crime is safe and easy in the zenana,
for even the law halts on the threshold, and where the husband’s favour
comprehends the entire creed of the wife, polygamy cannot fail to be
fruitful
of envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. Enforced
or
voluntary idleness, absence of occupation, and want of education are
greater
factors for evil than deprivation of physical freedom. In the higher
ranks of
life, the zenana lady
lives a
stagnant existence, and dress and jewels absorb most of her time and
attention.
It is a curious thing that, although she may never be seen in public,
and has
no opportunities to display her charms, she takes an engrossing
interest in her
personal appearance. Rouge, menddhal, collyrium, and other cosmetics
are common
in a hareem, and the
examination
of garments and ornaments is the first and almost the sole form of
entertainment when visiting or receiving women friends. That life,
under
such circumstances, becomes demoralising goes without saying. The zenana woman is mentally and
physically
stunted and crippled. From year’s end to year’s end a small sun-baked
court in
the day is the only place in which she can obtain any exercise, and in
city
life her promenade is often confined to the flat roof of the house. No
chance
of physical development is hers, and the Indian lady is always weakly,
and
often sickly. Consumption is a common disease. To be required to walk
any
distance is an actual hardship; when it is possible most ladies are
carried in
litters, and if compelled to use their own feet have a peculiar
shuffling walk
that betokens incapacity. Their mental development is equally
restricted, and
there is no ignorance so profound, no inexperience of the alphabet of
practical
life so pitiful, as theirs. At the age of thirty, their intellectual
attainments are less than those of children. They cannot read, their
range of
observation is limited to their prison boundaries, and the outer world
is
absolutely unknown to them. Their conversation is inane and frivolous,
and
reflects the emptiness of their minds. Their husbands confine their
discourse
with them to domestic affairs, carefully avoiding every topic that
requires the
exertion of reason, and the result, in the words of one such husband,
is “a
supine vacuity of thought.” The hareem has often been called a
gilded
cage; here is a description of one, and the fine lady who inhabited it.
It was
sumptuously furnished with the richest and costliest rugs and pillows;
the
divans were draped in different coloured silks to suit the season; the
vessels
for eating and drinking were of gold and silver, and the bathroom lined
with
full-length mirrors. The lady was bathed four or five times a day, and
used the
most expensive soaps and perfumes to preserve her beauty. Her powder
boxes were
of silver, and those for her eyebrow powder of gold; her toilet table
was
covered with silver slabs. Her collection of jewels contained every
known gem.
She spent her time in devising new ornaments, and in rich eating. Au reste, she did not know her
letters,
and was utterly incapable of attending to her commonest wants. This, of
course,
was a grande dame. In
the less
favoured ranks, the apartments are more often than not squalid, the
walls and
floors merely smeared with cow-dung plaster, and dirt and the olfactory
evidence of bad sanitation everywhere present. The courtyard, into
which the
rooms open out, is filled with the sheds wherein the cattle are kept,
and the
“cage” is a dark, drear, unwholesome place to pass a lifetime in. There
are zenana wives who
have never left their
husbands’ houses from the time they entered them as brides, until they
were
grandmothers. Conceive what that means — a life without a walk in the
open air!
Where the system is obligatory and the husband poor, the zenana is a prison too terrible
to
contemplate. When you
get to
those classes which permit their womenfolk freedom, the physical
improvement is
at once apparent. The Indian woman who is not confined is renowned for
her
grace; she is supple, elegant, erect, and, where she is called upon to
exercise
her physical powers, strong. In the labouring ranks of life her powers
of
endurance are marvellous. In the rice-growing districts, you may see
the
peasant women toiling from sunrise to sunset, knee-deep in the noisome
slush,
weeding their crops. Their primitive standard of civilisation includes
many
duties assigned to women, such as husking rice, carrying loads, using
the hoe,
and chopping wood, which entail terribly hard labour. As carriers, they
are
able to bear extraordinary burdens, and amongst the hill women of the
Himalayas
are individuals capable of phenomenal feats. I have frequently seen
them
toiling along under a load of a hundredweight and a half, and there is
a record
of one Thibetan woman who carried a cottage piano on her back up a
steep ascent
of three thousand feet, to deliver it at a house in the sanatorium of
Darjeeling. In agricultural and kindred pursuits, the women take their
share,
and often more than their share, of the labour of men. What his wife
can do,
that the native husband will always make her do. Maternity comes easy to the peasant’s wife. I remember the case of a woman starting off, as she believed, the day before her confinement was due, to go to her parents’ home. The distance was twenty miles, and she carried her baggage with her, though that does not ordinarily comprehend more than a blanket and a water-vessel. Halfway on the road to her home she was taken with the pangs of labour, gave birth to a child, and then, thinking it not worth while to pursue her journey, returned to where she had started from. She was the wife of one of my grooms, and I can vouch for this story as absolutely correct. Notwithstanding
the
comparative freedom they enjoy, the instinct of reserve remains very
marked,
even in the lowest grades of women. I never remember to have been
addressed
first by one, though I employed many hundreds on my plantation. On pay
days,
when they had to come up for their wages, the veriest old harridan
would veil
her face with her sari
and take
her money quite coyly. Although amazing chatterboxes amongst
themselves, they
are silent, or at most monosyllabic, in men’s company. In meeting men
on the
road, they instinctively turn their heads from view; but what is a
gentle,
well-bred timidity in the high-caste woman, assumes a sort of foolish
shamefacedness in her humbler sister, the result of conscious sexual
inferiority. A woman
may not
walk by the side of her husband, but only follow respectfully behind
him; she
may not eat with him, but must content herself with his leavings after
he has
finished. If he fasts, the good wife ought to fast too. She must not
speak with
him in the society of others, nor may he notice her. In mixed company,
the
man’s wife is the last female you would take to be such, if you
regarded their
mutual relations. She must never presume to pronounce his name; he is
always
“my lord,” or “my master.” She has absolutely no part in society; she
may not
make herself heard; she has no opinion; she may not seat herself in the
company
of men. It is a gross breach of etiquette to ask a husband how his wife
is.
“How is your house?” is the limit of courtesy even amongst old friends.
Abject
submission at home has created in the woman a sense of helplessness and
bewilderment abroad. She is as “lost” as a nun might be. The custom
which
prescribes her conduct towards her husband is far stricter in its
regulation of
her behaviour towards others of his sex. “Whether a woman be old or
young,”
lays down Manu, the lawgiver, “she must ever be dependent. In her
childhood,
she must be in subjection to her parents; in her youth, to her husband;
and in
her old age, to her children.” And from highest to lowest, from purdah-nashin to peasant wench,
this rule
of life is inflexibly adhered to. It is ladies last and ladies least in
every
grade of society. The
patriarchal
system obtains in India, and the sons when they marry bring their wives
home to
the paternal roof, whilst the daughters go forth to live in their
husbands’
homes. You may often see three or four generations under one roof, and
no
Indian wife is mistress of her home till all her elders have died off.
All
Indian girls are married when they are quite children, and are either
wives or widows
before they are fourteen. Their marriage is a complete dissolution of
their
home ties, and opens the door to an absolutely new life. In the
higher
castes, the father may not visit his daughter’s home, especially where
he has
dowered her. I have heard a man assert with satisfaction that he had
not even
drunk water from the well of the village in which his daughter had gone
to make
her home. A native
wedding is
a tremendous affair. It often means years of debt and difficulty, for
the
native is nothing if he is not prodigal on these occasions. All his
thrifty
qualities go by the board in one hurricane of extravagance, and it is a
case of
in for a penny, in for a pound, for this is an occasion when no one
dare be
niggardly. Here, again, the curse of “custom” creeps in, for these
lavish
displays cannot be defended by any rational argument. Every one
is
invited, and there are dinners for all; nay, in some cases, seven
dinners all
round. The Brahmins have to be fed and fee’d, musicians and
dancing-girls hired,
fireworks to be exploded, rich gifts to be provided, dowries to be
scraped
together, trousseaux to be given which shall bear the test of woman’s
criticism, and litters or horses hired to carry the bride and
bridegroom. This is
the one
supreme day in the life of an Indian woman. Ever since she could
understand,
she has been taught to look forward to it. It is associated in her mind
with
all that is glorious and grand. She is arrayed in the splendour of
vivid
colours and tinsel; attention is paid to her; for once in her life she
is
“somebody.” And her
marriage
vows? Listen to what the sacred Hindu books say: “There is no other god
on
earth for a woman except her husband. Be he deformed, aged, infirm,
diseased,
offensive in manners, choleric, debauched, immoral, a drunkard, a
gambler, a
lunatic, blind, deaf, dumb, or crippled; in a word, let his defects and
wickedness be what they may, a wife should lavish on him all her
attention.”
That is the risk every Hindu girl has to accept with a stranger before
she is
twelve years old. After her wedding, she returns to her father’s house
until
she is physically old enough to go to her husband’s. The
Mahomedan
girl’s life is somewhat better, for she is not married until she is of
an age
to join her husband. Moreover, she has certain “rights,” one of which
is the
power to divorce her husband. Also, she may marry again. But neither
Hindu nor
Mahomedan brides have the slightest voice in the selection of their
spouses. In all
India, there
is only one class of women which emerges from the fetters of ignorance,
reserve, and abject submission. This is the nautch-girl, or
dancing-girl. She
is a professional prostitute and public entertainer. It is necessary to
educate
her to fit her for her profession and duties, and so it conies to pass
that she
can read. She is early instructed in this, and also in singing and
dancing, and
all the accomplishments. She begins to chant lewd songs as soon as she
has
finished prattling, and for centuries has enjoyed the sole monopoly of
education
amongst Indian womankind. And — can it be believed? — the nautch-girl
has not
only a recognised, but an exalted, place in the religious and social
life of
the Hindus. No discredit attaches to her calling, but, on the contrary,
a great
deal of éclat. She is
considered
a necessary adjunct in the temple and the home. Her presence at
weddings is
auspicious, and she it is who fastens the wedding-necklace round the
bride’s
neck, an act which corresponds to the placing of the wedding-ring with
us. In
her professional capacity, she is invited to all native festivals, and
to
entertainments given in honour of guests. To patronise her is
considered
meritorious, and she fills a place in the Hindu religion corresponding
to that
which the nun holds in Christianity, for she is consecrated to one or
other of
the impure Hindu deities. A proverbial saying declares that without the
jingling of the nautch-girl’s anklets a dwelling-place does not become
pure! She is a
beautiful
abomination who has lured thousands, and will lure thousands more, to
ruin.
Attractive, pleasing, and witty in conversation, she is the most
accomplished
of courtesans, and specially educated to play havoc with men’s morals
and
money. She is treated by all castes with the utmost deference, and even
allowed
to sit in the assemblies of the great by men who would not permit their
own
wives and daughters a similar honour. She moves more freely in society
than
public women in civilised countries are allowed to do, and greater
attention
and respect are shown to her than to married women. In some parts of
India, she
is treated with the distinction of a princess. The earnings of these dancing-girls are enormous. In Bombay the “star” nautch-girls command a fee of fifty pounds for a single night’s performance. Aristocratic families lavish their wealth on them, and a British viceroy, who was memorialised by the Hindu Social Reform Association to discountenance them on the grounds that they were “professional prostitutes, lowered the tone of society, tended to destroy family life, and brought ruin to property and character” — a British viceroy answered that “he had seen nothing objectionable in the nautches he had witnessed; they were in accordance with the custom of the country, and he declined to take any action.” Truly, great is “custom,” and it will prevail! To these educated courtesans, the Hindu gentleman habitually turns when he desires the companionship his own home cannot supply, And, be it noted, without any stigma or suspicion of wrong-doing. The nautch-girls are the only women who move freely in men’s society in India; they are the women who are honoured and courted most; for them alone is education decreed. They are the queens of native society. It is a salient commentary on the domestic life of the Indian Empire that the woman who comes last in the British estimate of the sex comes first in theirs. |