text:
Page:The Mystery of the Blue Train.pdf/87

 my dear father-in-law’s errands might not always be pleasant ones."

Knighton cleared his throat. He spoke formally in tones that he strove to render free of embarrassment.

"I am directed by Mr. Van Aldin to make you a definite offer."

"An offer?" For a moment Derek showed his surprise. Knighton's opening words were clearly not what he had expected. He offered a cigarette to Knighton, lit one himself, and sank back in his chair, murmuring in a slightly sardonic voice:

"An offer? That sounds rather interesting."

"Shall I go on?"

"Please. You must forgive my surprise, but it seems to me that my dear father-in-law has rather climbed down since our chat this morning. And climbing down is not what one associates with strong men, Napoleons of finance, etc. It showsI think it shows that he finds his position weaker than he thought it."

Knighton listened politely to the easy, mocking voice, but no sign of any kind showed itself on his rather stolid countenance. He waited until Derek had finished, and then he said quietly.

"I will state the proposition in the fewest possible words."

"Go on."

Knighton did not look at the other. His voice was curt and matter-of-fact.

"The matter is simply this. Mrs. Kettering, as you know, is about to file a petition for divorce. If the case


text:
Page:The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night - Volume 1.djvu/108

70 Alf Laylah wa Laylah. forth tears there is little profit." "Thwart me not," answered she, "in aught I do, or I will lay violent hands on myself!" So I held my peace and left her to go her own way; and she ceased not to cry and keen and indulge her affliction for yet another year. At the end of the third year I waxed aweary of this longsome mourning, and one day I happened to enter the cenotaph when vexed and angry with some matter which had thwarted me, and suddenly I heard her say, "O my lord, I never hear thee vouchsafe a single word to me! Why dost thou not answer me, O my master?" and she began reciting:―

O thou tomb! O thou tomb! be his beauty set in shade? * Hast thou darkened that countenance all-sheeny as the noon? O thou tomb! neither earth nor yet heaven art to me; * Then how cometh it in thee are conjoined my sun and moon?

When I heard such verses as these rage was heaped upon my rage; I cried out, "Well-away! how long is this sorrow to last?" and I began repeating:―

O thou tomb! O thou tomb! be his horrors set in blight? * Hast thou darkened his countenance that sickeneth the soul? O thou tomb! neither cess-pool nor pipkin art to me; * Then how cometh it in thee are conjoined soil and coal?

When she heard my words she sprang to her feet crying, "Fie upon thee, thou cur! all this is of thy doings; thou hast wounded my heart's darling and thereby worked me sore woe, and thou hast wasted his youth so that these three years he hath lain abed more dead than alive!" In my wrath I cried, "O thou foulest of harlots and filthiest of whores ever embraced by negro slaves who are hired to have at thee¹!" Yes indeed it was I who did this good deed"; and snatching up my sword I drew it and made at her to cut her down. But she laughed my words and mine intent to scorn, crying, "To heel, hound that thou art! Alas² for the past which shall no more come to pass nor shall any one avail the dead to raise. Allah hath indeed now given into the latter dynasty and especially to the great King Anushirwan. They must not be confounded with "Khusrau" (P. N. Cyrus, Ahasuerus? Chosroes?); and yet the three seem to have combined in "Cæsar," Kaysar and Czar. For details especially connected with Zoroaster, see vol. i. p. 380 of the Dabistan or School of Manners, translated by David Shea and Anthony Troyer, Paris, 1843. The book is most valuable, but the proper names are so carelessly and incorrectly printed that the student is led into perpetual error. ¹ The words in the original are the very lowest and coarsest; but the scene is true to Arab life. ² Arab. "Hayhat": the word, written in a variety of ways, is onomatopoetic, like our "heigh-ho!" it sometimes means "far from me (or you) be it!" but in popular usage it is simply "Alas."

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


text:
Page:The life of Charlotte Brontë (IA lifeofcharlotteb02gaskrich).pdf/103

 might be with us still for weeks; and a few hours afterwards, she was in eternity. Yes; there is no Emily in time or on earth now. Yesterday we put her poor, wasted, mortal frame quietly under the church pavement. We are very calm at present. Why should we be otherwise? The anguish of seeing her suffer is over; the spectacle of the pains of death is gone by; the funeral day is past. We feel she is at peace. No need now to tremble for the hard frost and the keen wind. Emily does not feel them. She died in a time of promise. We saw her taken from life in its prime. But it is God's will, and the place where she is gone is better than that she has left.

"God has sustained me, in a way that I marvel at, through such agony as I had not conceived. I now look at Anne, and wish she were well and strong; but she is neither; nor is papa. Could you now come to us for a few days? I would not ask you to stay long. Write and tell me if you could come next week, and by what train. I would try to send a gig for you to Keighley. You will, I trust, find us tranquil. Try to come. I never so much needed the consolation of a friend's presence. Pleasure, of course, there would be none for you in the visit, except what your kind heart would teach you to find in doing good to others"

As the old, bereaved father and his two surviving children followed the coffin to the grave, they were joined by Keeper, Emily's fierce, faithful bull-dog. He walked


text:
Page:The Mystery of the Blue Train.pdf/88

 goes undefended you will receive one hundred thousand on the day that the decree is made absolute."

Derek, in the act of lighting his cigarette, suddenly stopped dead.

"A hundred thousand!" he said sharply. "Dollars?"

"Pounds."

There was dead silence for at least two minutes. Kettering had his brows together thinking. A hundred thousand pounds. It meant Mirelle and a continuance of his pleasant, carefree life. It meant that Van Aldin knew something. Van Aldin did not pay for nothing. He got up and stood by the chimney-piece.

"And in the event of my refusing his handsome offer?" he asked, with a cold, ironical politeness.

Knighton made a deprecating gesture.

"I can assure you, Mr. Kettering," he said earnestly, “that it is with the utmost unwillingness that I came here with this message."

"That's all right," said Kettering. "Don't distress yourself; it’s not your fault. Now thenI asked you a question, will you answer it?"

Knighton also rose. He spoke more reluctantly than before.

"In the event of your refusing this proposition," he said, "Mr. Van Aldin wished me to tell you in plain words that he proposes to break you. Just that."

Kettering raised his eyebrows, but he retained his light, amused manner.

"Well, well!" he said, “I suppose he can do it. I certainly should not be able to put up much of a fight against America's man of millions. A hundred thousand! If you are going to bribe a man there is nothing


text:
Page:The life of Charlotte Brontë (IA lifeofcharlotteb02gaskrich).pdf/104

 alongside of the mourners, and into the church, and stayed quietly there all the time that the burial service was being read. When he came home, he lay down at Emily's chamber door, and howled pitifully for many days. Anne Brontë drooped and sickened more rapidly from that time; and so ended the year 1848.


text:
Page:The Return of the Soldier (Van Druten).djvu/66

 You know, it’s a horrid little house, is Mariposa. They put cows into the field at the back, sometimes. I like that; but otherwise it isn’t very much.

(aglow): Yes, isn’t it? Mariposa. It’s Spanish, you know, for butterfly. (Warming up) You know it’s wrong of me, I suppose, but coming up here in the car like that, and everything  I can’t think of a meeting with Chris as anything but a kind of treat. I know it’s terrible the way we’re coming together, but I’ve got a sort of party feeling about it all. And I have so wanted to see him again even though I’ve tried and pretended not to for Mr. Grey’s sake, and his, as well as my own  ever since we parted.

(growing fifteen years younger as she dives back into the past) : Oh, it was the silliest quarrel. We had known how we felt for just a week. Such a week! Lovely weather we had it’s pretty down there at Bray  I don’t know if you know it  and father hadn’t noticed anything. I didn’t want him to, because I thought he might want the marriage soon and think a delay a slight on me, and I knew we would have to wait. Chris had told me his father’s business was in a bad way and he might have to go


text:
Page:The Mystery of the Blue Train.pdf/89

 like doing it thoroughly. Supposing I were to tell you that for two hundred thousand I'd do what he wanted, what then?"

"I would take your message back to Mr. Van Aldin," said Knighton unemotionally. "Is that your answer?"

"No," said Derek; "funnily enough it is not. You can go back to my father-in-law and tell him to take himself and his bribes to hell. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly," said Knighton. He got up, hesitated, and then flushed. "I—you will allow me to say, Mr. Kettering, that I am glad you have answered as you have."

Derek did not reply. When the other had left the room he remained for a minute or two lost in thought. A curious smile came to his lips.

"And that is that," he said softly.


text:
Page:The Return of the Soldier (Van Druten).djvu/67

 abroad. Oh, I can remember saying to myself, “Perhaps five years,” trying to make it as bad as could be so that if we could marry sooner it would be a lovely surprise. We’d made so many plans Chris had talked so much  he always wanted a son, he said. Perhaps five years! I never thought (She cries again a little.) Oh, well  crying won’t help, and it’ll make my eyes red. I shouldn’t like Chris to think I’d been crying. I won’t cry.

[She fishes in her bag for her handkerchief, dabs her eyes, and drinks some tea.

I’ve never told anyone all these years  just kept it to myself  but they were happy times, and one can’t help thinking of them sometimes. Well and then one afternoon—a Thursday it was—I’d gone on the backwater with Bert Batchard, nephew to Mr. B., who kept the inn at Surly Hall, and I was laughing out loud because he did row so funny! He’s a town chap, and he was handling those oars for all the world as though they were teaspoons. The old dinghy just sat on the water like a hen on its chicks, and didn’t move, and he so sure of himself. And me used to boats and the water all my life. I just sat and laughed and laughed. And then, all of a sudden, I heard the bell at the ferry, and there was Chris,


text:
Page:The life of Charlotte Brontë (IA lifeofcharlotteb02gaskrich).pdf/105

article on "Vanity Fair" and "Jane Eyre" had appeared in the Quarterly Review of December, 1848. Some weeks after, Miss Brontë wrote to her publishers, asking why it had not been sent to her; and conjecturing that it was unfavourable, she repeated her previous request, that whatever was done with the laudatory, all critiques adverse to the novel might be forwarded to her without fail. The Quarterly Review was accordingly sent. I am not aware that Miss Brontë took any greater notice of the article than to place a few sentences out of it in the mouth of a hard and vulgar woman in "Shirley," where they are so much in character, that few have recognised them as a quotation. The time when the article was read was good for Miss Brontë; she was numbed to all petty annoyances by the grand severity of Death. Otherwise she might have felt more keenly than they deserved the criticisms which, while striving to be severe, failed in logic, owing to the misuse of prepositions; and have smarted under conjectures as to the authorship of "Jane Eyre," which, intended to be acute, were merely flippant. But flippancy takes a graver name when directed against an author by an anonymous writer. We call it then cowardly insolence.


text: The Mystery of the Blue Train/Chapter 9

title: The Mystery of the Blue Train/Chapter 9


text:
Page:The Return of the Soldier (Van Druten).djvu/68

 standing up there among the poplars, with his eyes frowning and not a smile on him. And he was angry oh, so angry  I couldn’t get near him all the afternoon. And then it struck me he wasn’t trusting me as he would a girl of his own class, and I told him so, and he went on being cruel. Oh, don’t make me remember the things we said to each other! It doesn’t help. And then he went away still angry  the boy took him over in the punt  the only time ever that I hadn’t. And that was all. I never saw him again. I know now he had to go away suddenly to Mexico  that’s what he’d come down to tell me  and he didn’t tell me because of our quarrel, and then father died suddenly  found him dead in his bed one morning, we did  and I had to sell the lease of the inn. I made the new woman promise she’d forward any letters. But she didn’t. I didn’t know not till last year when Mr. Grey and I went down to see the place, and there were new people there  and after lunch Mr. Taylor took me into the office and said, “I’ve got something here that may interest you.” And he opened the roller desk that dad used to have, and out of the drawer he took twelve letters addressed to me in Chris’s handwriting. I didn’t know what to say. I thought I should faint I never have  but that’s what it felt like. Anyway, I cried, and he was very kind and kept William that’s


text:
Page:The Return of the Soldier (Van Druten).djvu/69

 Mr. Grey out of the way as long as he could. And at last I said, “But Mrs. Hancock did say she’d send my letters on.” And he said, “Mrs. Hancock hadn’t been here three weeks before she bolted with a bookie from Bray, and after that Hancock mixed his drinks and got careless.” He said they’d found the letters stuffed into the desk.

I thought I oughtn’t. I thought it was against my duty as a wife. But when I got that telegram saying he was wounded, I went upstairs and read them sitting on my bed. Oh, those letters! (She weeps miserably for a moment.) There I am crying again  and my face all red, and Chris coming Do I look awful? Will he see I’ve been crying?

[She rises to inspect herself in the glass.

it'll be all right.

I don’t use it. I never have.

(finding her bag) : Here take mine.

[She takes out her vanity case and hands it to.

[She looks doubtfully at the puff and makes a dab with it at her nose.

Es


text:
Page:The Return of the Soldier (Van Druten).djvu/70

 : Wait. Let me do it for you.

[She powders face.

There!

(with a timid smile) : Isn’t it dreadful me using powder! But I wouldn’t like Chris to see Thank you. You’re so kind. You love him, too, don’t you?

[ ''turns away. The door L. opens, and comes in. He stands on the threshold and gazes at''. She rises and looks at him, long and hungrily.

Chris oh, Chris!

[ arms go out to him in a piteous gesture. has her head averted, so as not to see. moves to, slowly, as though sleep-walking; her arms enfold him, and he breaks into a flood of tears on her shoulder.

(Sobbing) Margaret oh, Margaret!

(stroking his hair) Hush hush  don’t cry  it’s all right. It’s quite all right. Chris, darling Chrissie boy  my Chris.

[She stands, holding him closely to her, while he cries.

steals to the door R., looks back at them, and then goes out with a little smothered sob.

(After a pause) Come and sit down, Chris.

(raising his head) : Margaret it’s such


text:
Page:The Imperial Durbar Album of the Indian princes, chiefs and zamindars.djvu/64

HE Chief of Bundi is the head of the Hada sept of the great clan of Chawan Rajputs, who came from Northern India to Sambhar about the beginning of the 8th century. After ruling at Sambhar and at Ajmer they gained the kingdom of Delhi. The last Hindu king of Delhi was Prithwi Raj Chawan who was killed in a battle with Muhammad Ghori in 1192 A.D., while the Chawans were still ruling at Sambhar.

Towards the end of the 10th century one Lakhan, a younger son of Wakpati Raj alias Manik Rai I, set out to found a kingdom for himself and proceeded to Nadol in the south-west. Here his descendants ruled for about 200 years when Manik Rai II migrated with some of his clan, and settled in the south-east corner of Newar near Bamboda. The sixth in descent from Manik Rai II was Rao Hada or Hara Raja from whom the sept takes its name.

About 1342 A.D. Rao Dewa, the second Chief after Hada Raja took the town now called Bundi from the Minas. He may be aptly considered to be the founder of the State of Bundi. The next Chief of note was Rao Surjan who came to the throne in 1554 A.D. He possessed the fortress of Ranthambhor which was much coveted by Akbar. Rao Surjan gave the fortress to the Mogul Emperor in 1569 A.D. in consideration of the government of fifty-two districts including Benares, the command of 2,000 horse, and an agreement, the conditions of which were not only favourable to Bundi but contained terms which secured the prestige and position of the Rajputs as a class.

The Bundi Chiefs were looked upon as reliable friends by the Emperors of Delhi. Several of the successors of Surjan obtained high ranks and received large grants of land, and were often entrusted with important missions by the Mogul Emperors.

In the beginning of the 17th century, Rao Raja Chhatra Sal, grandson of Rao Surjan, took part in the battles in the Deccan, and met his death in 1658 A.D. while leading the vanguard of the army of Dara against Aurangzeb. The new Emperor gave to Bhao Singh, the son of Chhatra Sal, the government of Aurangabad. In the struggle for the Mogul throne after the death of Aurangzeb, the Raja of Bundi played an important part, and by his courage contributed largely to the victory which left Shah Alum without a rival. For these services Budh Singh, the son and successor of Bhao Singh, was made Maharao Raja,—a title borne by his successors to this day.

Soon after a bitter feud ensued between Budh Singh, the Raja of Bundi, and the Raja of Jaipur; me former was driven out of his country and died in exile. His son Umed Singh succeeded in recovering his patrimony in 1748 A.D. with the assistance of Mulhar Rao Holkar, at the cost of the district of Pattan. In 1770 A.D. Umed Singh abdicated in favour of his son Ajit Singh, who, three years later, killed Rana Ari Singh of Udaipur while out on a shooting excursion with him. In consequence of this incident there exists even to this day a feud between the two houses.

Ajit Singh died soon after, and was succeeded by Bhishan Singh, who rendered most efficient assistance to Colonel Monson in his disastrous retreat before the army of


text:
Page:The Imperial Durbar Album of the Indian princes, chiefs and zamindars.djvu/65

Rh Holkar in 1804 A. D. thereby bringing upon himself the special vengeance of that Mahratta leader. From that time till 1817 A.D., the Mahrattas and the Pendharees constantly ravaged the State exacting tribute and assuming supremacy.

In 1818 A.D. the State of Bundi was taken by the British Government under their protection by a treaty concluded with Bhisan Singh. The tribute formerly paid to the Holkar was remitted by the treaty, and the lands held by the Holkar in Bundi were restored to Bhisan Singh, who agreed to pay to the British Government the tribute which he had been paying to the Sindhia. Under the treaty of 1860 A.D. the sovereignty of the Pattan district was transferred to the British Government from whom Bundi now holds it as a perpetual fief.

Bhisan Singh died in 1821 A.D. and was succeeded by his son Ram Singh, then ten years of age. The murder of his minister Kishan Ram in 1830 A.D. by an armed party from Jodhpur would probably have caused hostilities between the two States but for the intervention of the British Government. In 1862 A.D. the Maharao obtained a sanad of adoption, and was created a G. C. S. I. He was made a counsellor of the Empire in 1877 A.D. and a C. I. E. in 1878 A.D. The Raja's rule though old-fashioned was popular, and was remarkable for the strict integrity he evinced in all his actions. He has been described as the most conservative prince in Rajputana and a grand specimen of a genuine Rajput. He died full of honours and years in 1889 A.D. having ruled for nearly 68 years, and was succeeded by his son Raja Raghubir Singh who was invested with full powers in 1890 A.D. His Highness was made a K. C. S. I. in 1897 A.D. and a G. C. I. E. in 1901 A.D.

The military force of the State consists of 350 regulars (100 cavalry, 200 infantry, and 50 artillery-men with 48 serviceable guns), and 400 irregular infantry.

The area of the state is 2,220 square miles which contains 819 villages with a population of 1,71,250 inhabitants, and yields an average revenue of six lacs of Rupees per annum.

His Highness the Maharao Raja Sir Raghubir Singh Bahadur, G.C.I.E., K.C.S.I. of Bundi has full judicial powers, both civil and criminal, and is entitled to a salute of 17 guns.


text: Page:The family kitchen gardener - containing plain and accurate descriptions of all the different species and varieties of culinary vegetables (IA familykitchengar56buis).pdf/102


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/593

Rh All sects of Christians (except Protestants,) have chapels under the roof of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and each must keep to itself and not venture upon another’s ground. It has been proven conclusively that they can not worship together around the grave of the Saviour of the World in peace. The chapel of the Syrians is not handsome; that of the Copts is the humblest of them all. It is nothing but a dismal cavern, roughly hewn in the living rock of the Hill of Calvary. In one side of it two ancient tombs are hewn, which are claimed to be those in which Nicodemus and Joseph of Aramathea were buried.

As we moved among the great piers and pillars of another part of the church, we came upon a party of black-robed, animal-looking Italian monks, with candles in their hands, who were chanting something in Latin, and going through some kind of religious performance around a disk of white marble let into the floor. It was there that the risen Saviour appeared to Mary Magdalen in the likeness of a gardener. Near by was a similar stone, shaped like a star—here the Magdalen herself stood, at the same time. Monks were performing in this place also. They perform every where—all over the vast building, and at all hours. Their candles are always flitting about in the gloom, and making the dim old church more dismal than there is any necessity that it should be, even though it is a tomb.

We were shown the place where our Lord appeared to His mother after the Resurrection. Here, also, a marble slab marks the place where St. Helena, the mother of the Emperor Constantine, found the crosses about three hundred years after the Crucifixion. According to the legend, this great discovery elicited extravagant demonstrations of joy. But they were of short duration. The question intruded itself: “Which bore the blessed Saviour, and which the thieves?” To be in doubt, in so mighty a matter as this—to be uncertain which one to adore—was a grievous misfortune. It turned the public joy to sorrow. But when lived there a holy priest who could not set so simple a trouble as this at rest? One of these soon hit


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/594

562 upon a plan that would be a certain test. A noble lady lay very ill in Jerusalem. The wise priests ordered that the three crosses be taken. to her bedside one at a time. It was done. When her eyes fell upon the first one, she uttered a scream that was heard beyond the Damascus Gate, and even upon the Mount of Olives, it was said, and then fell back in a deadly swoon. They recovered her and brought the second cross. Instantly she went into fearful convulsions, and it was with the greatest difficulty that six strong men could hold her. They were afraid, now, to bring in the third cross. They began to fear that possibly they had fallen upon the wrong crosses, and that the true cross was not with this number at all. However, as the woman seemed likely to die with the convulsions that were tearing her, they concluded that the third could do no more than put her out of her misery with a happy dispatch. So they brought it, and behold, a miracle! The woman sprang from her bed, smiling and joyful, and perfectly restored to health. When we listen to evidence like this, we can not but believe. We would be ashamed to doubt, and properly, too. Even the very part of Jerusalem where this all occurred is there yet. So there is really no room for doubt.

The priests tried to show us, through a small screen, a fragment of the genuine Pillar of Flagellation, to which Christ was bound when they scourged him. But we could not see it, because it was dark inside the screen. However, a baton is kept here, which the pilgrim thrusts through a hole in the screen, and then he no longer doubts that the true Pillar of Flagellation is in there. He can not have any excuse to doubt it, for he can feel it with the stick. He can feel it as distinctly as he could feel any thing.

Not far from here was a niche where they used to preserve a piece of the True Cross, but it is gone, now. This piece of the cross was discovered in the sixteenth century. The Latin priests say it was stolen away, long ago, by priests of another sect. That seems like a hard statement to make, but we know very well that it was stolen, because we have seen it ourselves in several of the cathedrals of Italy and France.


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/595

Rh But the relic that touched us most was the plain old sword of that stout Crusader, Godfrey of Bulloigne—King Godfrey of Jerusalem. No blade in Christendom wields such enchantment as this—no blade of all that rust in the ancestral halls of Europe is able to invoke such visions of romance in the brain of him who looks upon it—none that can prate of such chivalric deeds or tell such brave tales of the warrior days of old. It stirs within a man every memory of the Holy Wars that has been sleeping in his brain for years, and peoples his thoughts with mail-clad images, with marching armies, with battles and with sieges. It speaks to him of Baldwin, and Tancred, the princely Saladin, and great Richard of the Lion Heart. It was with just such blades as these that these splendid heroes of romance used to segregate a man, so to speak, and leave the half of him to fall one way and the other half the other. This very sword has cloven hundreds of Saracen Knights from crown to chin in those old times when Godfrey wielded it. It was enchanted, then, by a genius that was under the command of King Solomon. When danger approached its master’s tent it always struck the shield and clanged out a fierce alarm upon the startled ear of night. In times of doubt, or in fog or darkness, if it were drawn from its sheath it would point instantly toward the foe, and thus reveal the way—and it would also attempt to start after them of its own accord. A Christian could not be so disguised that it would not know him and refuse to hurt him—nor a Moslem so disguised that it would not leap from its scabbard and take his life. These statements are all well authenticated in many legends that are among the most trustworthy legends the good old Catholic monks preserve. I can never forget old Godfrey’s sword, now. I tried it on a Moslem, and clove him in twain like a doughnut. The spirit of Grimes was upon me, and if I had had a graveyard I would have destroyed all the infidels in Jerusalem. I wiped the blood off the old sword and handed it back to the priest—I did not want the fresh gore to obliterate those sacred spots that crimsoned its brightness one day six hundred years ago and thus gave Godfrey warning that before the sun went down his journey of life would end.


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/596

564 Still moving through the gloom of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre we came to a small chapel, hewn out of the rock—a place which has been known as “The Prison of Our Lord” for many centuries. Tradition says that here the Saviour was


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/597

Rh confined just previously to the crucifixion. Under an altar by the door was a pair of stone stocks for human legs. These things are called the “Bonds of Christ,” and the use they were once put to has given them the name they now bear.

The Greek Chapel is the most roomy, the richest and the showiest chapel in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Its altar, like that of all the Greek churches, is a lofty screen that extends clear across the chapel, and is gorgeous with gilding and pictures. The numerous lamps that hang before it are of gold and silver, and cost great sums.

But the feature of the place is a short column that rises from the middle of the marble pavement of the chapel, and marks the exact centre of the earth. The most reliable traditions tell us that this was known to be the earth’s centre, ages ago, and that when Christ was upon earth he set all doubts upon the subject at rest forever, by stating with his own lips that the tradition was correct. Remember, He said that that particular column stood upon the centre of the world. If the centre of the world changes, the column changes its position accordingly. This column has moved three different times, of its own accord. This is because, in great convulsions of nature, at three different times, masses of the earth—whole ranges of mountains, probably—have flown off into space, thus lessening the diameter of the earth, and changing the exact locality of its centre by a point or two. This is a very curious and interesting circumstance, and is a withering rebuke to those philosophers who would make us believe that it is not possible for any portion of the earth to fly off into space.

To satisfy himself that this spot was really the centre of the earth, a sceptic once paid well for the privilege of ascending to the dome of the church to see if the sun gave him a shadow at noon. He came down perfectly convinced. The day was very cloudy and the sun threw no shadows at all; but the man was satisfied that if the sun had come out and made shadows it could not have made any for him. Proofs like these are not to be set aside by the idle tongues of cavilers. To such as are not bigoted, and are willing to be convinced, they carry a conviction that nothing can ever shake.


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/598

566 If even greater proofs than those I have mentioned are wanted, to satisfy the headstrong and the foolish that this is the genuine centre of the earth, they are here. The greatest of them lies in the fact that from under this very column was taken the dust from which Adam was made. This can surely be regarded in the light of a settler. It is not likely that the original first man would have been made from an inferior quality of earth when it was entirely convenient to get first quality from the world’s centre. This will strike any reflecting mind forcibly. That Adam was formed of dirt procured in this very spot is amply proven by the fact that in six thousand years no man has ever been able to prove that the dirt was not procured here whereof he was made.

It is a singular circumstance that right under the roof of this same great church, and not far away from that illustrious column, Adam himself, the father of the human race, lies buried. There is no question that he is actually buried


text:
Author talk:James Mercer Langston Hughes

God to Hungry Child
The poem in this index is by Hughes. The work needs to have its transcription finished, but I wanted to make note of this now. SDudley (talk) 02:42, 6 February 2024 (UTC)


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/599

Rh in the grave which is pointed out as his—there can be none—because it has never yet been proven that that grave is not the grave in which he is buried.

The tomb of Adam! How touching it was, here in a land of strangers, far away from home, and friends, and all who cared for me, thus to discover the grave of a blood relation. True, a distant one, but still a relation. The unerring instinct of nature thrilled its recognition. The fountain of my filial affection was stirred to its profoundest depths, and I gave way to tumultuous emotion. I leaned upon a pillar and burst into tears. I deem it no shame to have wept over the grave of my poor dead relative. Let him who would sneer at my emotion close this volume here, for he will find little to his taste in my journeyings through Holy Land, Noble old man—he did not live to see me—he did not live to see his child. And I—I—alas, I did not live to see him. Weighed down by sorrow and disappointment, he died before I was born—six thousand brief summers before I was born, But let us try to bear it with fortitude. Let us trust that he is better off, where he is. Let us take comfort in the thought that his loss is our eternal gain.

The next place the guide took us to in the holy church was an altar dedicated to the Roman soldier who was of the military guard that attended at the crucifixion to keep order, and who—when the vail of the Temple was rent in the awful darkness that followed; when the rock of Golgotha was split asunder by an earthquake; when the artillery of heaven thundered, and in the baleful glare of the lightnings the shrouded dead flitted about the streets of Jerusalem—shook with fear and said, “Surely this was the Son of God!” Where this altar stands now, that Roman soldier stood then, in full view of the crucified Saviour—in full sight and hearing of all the marvels that were transpiring far and wide about the circumference of the Hill of Calvary. And in this self-same spot the priests of the Temple beheaded him for those blasphemous words he had spoken.

In this altar they used to keep one of the most curious relics


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/600

568 that human eyes ever looked upon—a thing that had power to fascinate the beholder in some mysterious way and keep him gazing for hours together. It was nothing less than the copper plate Pilate put upon the Saviour’s cross, and upon which he wrote, “.” I think St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, found this wonderful memento when she was here in the third century. She traveled all over Palestine, and was always fortunate. Whenever the good old enthusiast found a thing mentioned in her Bible, Old or New, she would go and search for that thing, and never stop until she found it. If it was Adam, she would find Adam; if it was the Ark, she would find the Ark; if it was Goliah, or Joshua, she would find them. She found the inscription here that I was speaking of, I think. She found it in this very spot, close to where the martyred Roman soldier stood. That copper plate is in one of the churches in Rome, now. Any one can see it there. The inscription is very distinct.

We passed along a few steps and saw the altar built over the very spot where the good Catholic priests say the soldiers divided the raiment of the Saviour.

Then we went down into a cavern which cavilers say was once a cistern. It is a chapel, now, however—the Chapel of St. Helena. It is fifty-one feet long by forty-three wide. In it is a marble chair which Helena used to sit in while she superintended her workmen when they were digging and delving for the True Cross. In this place is an altar dedicated to St. Dimas, the penitent thief. A new bronze statue is here—a statue of St. Helena. It reminded us of poor Maximilian, so lately shot. He presented it to this chapel when he was about to leave for his throne in Mexico.

From the cistern we descended twelve steps into a large roughly-shaped grotto, carved wholly out of the living rock. Helena blasted it out when she was searching for the true cross. She had a laborious piece of work, here, but it was richly rewarded. Out of this place she got the crown of thorns, the nails of the cross, the true cross itself, and the cross of the penitent thief. When she thought she had found every


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/601

Rh thing and was about to stop, she was told in a dream to continue a day longer. It was very fortunate. She did so, and found the cross of the other thief.

The walls and roof of this grotto still weep bitter tears in memory of the event that transpired on Calvary, and devout pilgrims groan and sob when these sad tears fall upon them from the dripping rock. The monks call this apartment the “Chapel of the Invention of the Cross”—a name which is unfortunate, because it leads the ignorant to imagine that a tacit acknowledgment is thus made that the tradition that Helena found the true cross here is a fiction—an invention. It is a happiness to know, however, that intelligent people do not doubt the story in any of its particulars.

Priests of any of the chapels and denominations in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre can visit this sacred grotto to weep and pray and worship the gentle Redeemer. Two different congregations are not allowed to enter at the same time, however, because they always fight.

Still marching through the venerable Church of the Holy Sepulchre, among chanting priests in coarse long robes and sandals; pilgrims of all colors and many nationalities, in all sorts of strange costumes; under dusky arches and by dingy piers and columns; through a sombre cathedral gloom freighted with smoke and incense, and faintly starred with scores of candles that appeared suddenly and as suddenly disappeared, or drifted mysteriously hither and thither about the distant aisles like ghostly jack-o’-lanterns—we came at last to a small chapel which is called the “Chapel of the Mocking.” Under the altar was a fragment of a marble column; this was the seat Christ sat on when he was reviled, and mockingly made King, crowned with a crown of thorns and sceptred with a reed. It was here that they blindfolded him and struck him, and said in derision, “Prophesy who it is that smote thee.” The tradition that this is the identical spot of the mocking is a very ancient one. The guide said that Saewulf was the first to mention it. I do not know Saewulf, but still, I can not well refuse to receive his evidence—none of us can.


text:
Page:The Innocents Abroad (1869).djvu/602

570 They showed us where the great Godfrey and his brother Baldwin, the first Christian Kings of Jerusalem, once lay buried by that sacred sepulchre they had fought so long and so valiantly to wrest from the hands of the infidel. But the niches that had contained the ashes of these renowned crusaders were empty. Even the coverings of their tombs were gone—destroyed by devout members of the Greek Church, because Godfrey and Baldwin were Latin princes, and had been reared in a Christian faith whose creed differed in some unimportant respects from theirs.

We passed on, and halted before the tomb of Melchisedek! You will remember Melchisedek, no doubt; he was the King who came out and levied a tribute on Abraham the time that he pursued Lot’s captors to Dan, and took all their property from them. That was about four thousand years ago, and Melchisedek died shortly afterward. However, his tomb is in a good state of preservation.

When one enters the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Sepulchre itself is the first thing he desires to see, and really is almost the first thing he does see. The next thing he has a strong yearning to see is the spot where the Saviour was crucified. But this they exhibit last. It is the crowning glory of the place. One is grave and thoughtful when he stands in the little Tomb of the Saviour—he could not well be otherwise in such a place—but he has not the slightest possible belief that ever the Lord lay there, and so the interest he feels in the spot is very, very greatly marred by that reflection. He looks at the place where Mary stood, in another part of the church, and where John stood, and Mary Magdalen; where the mob derided the Lord; where the angel sat; where the crown of thorns was found, and the true cross; where the risen Saviour appeared—he looks at all these places with interest, but with the same conviction he felt in the case of the Sepulchre, that there is nothing genuine about them, and that they are imaginary holy places created by the monks. But the place of the Crucifixion affects him differently. He fully believes that he is looking upon the very spot where the Saviour gave up his


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/30

 But tho' to him all flags are holy that men fight for

and death hallows,

He did not kiss it—I swear it by the one that shall wrap

my body.

He did not kiss it, and they trampled upon him in their

frenzy that had no retreat save the rope,

And to him who was ready to die for a light he would

never see shine, they said: "You are a coward",

To him who would not barter a meaningless word for

his life, they said: "You are a traitor",

And they drew the noose round his neck, and they pulled

him up to the trestle and they watched him until

he was dead,

Six masked men whose faces were eaten with the cancer

of the dark,

One for each Steeple of thy temple, O Labor.

V.

NOW HE IS dead, but now that he is dead is the door

of your dungeon faster, O money changers and

scribes, and priests and masters of slaves?

Are men now readier to die for you without asking the

wherefore of the slaughter?

Shall now the pent-up spirit no longer connive with the

sun against your midnight?

And are we now all reconciled to your rule, and are

you safer and we humbler, and is the night eternal

and the day forever blotted out of the skies,

And all blind yesterdays risen, and all tomorrows entombed,

28


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/31

 Because of six faceless men and ten feet of rope and

one corpse dangling unseen in the blackness under

a railroad trestle?

No, I say, no! It swings like a terrible pendulum that

shall soon ring out a mad tocsin and call the red

cock to the crowing.

No, I say, no, for someone will bear witness of this to

the dawn,

Someone will stand straight and fearless tomorrow between

the armed hosts of your slaves, and shout to

them the challenge of that silence you could not

break.

VI.

"BROTHERS—he will shout to them—are you then, the

Godborn, reduced to a mute of dogs

That you will rush to the hunt of your kin at the blowing

of a horn?

Brothers, have then the centuries that created new suns

in the heavens, gouged out the eyes of your soul,

That you should wallow in your blood like swine,

That you should squirm like rats in a carrion,

That you, who astonished the eagles, should beat blindly

about the night of murder like bats?

Are you, brothers, who were meant to scale the stars,

to crouch forever before a footstool,

And listen forever to one word of shame and subjection,

And leave the plough in the furrow, the trowel on the

wall, the hammer on the anvil, and the heart of

the race on the knees of screaming women, and

the future of the race in the hands of babbling children,

29


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/32

 And yoke on your shoulders the halter of hatred and

fury,

And dash head-down against the bastions of folly,

Because a colored cloth waves in the air, because a

drum beats in the street,

Because six men have promised you a piece of ribbon on

your coat, a carved tablet on a wall and your name

in a list bordered with black?

Shall you, then, be forever the stewards of death, when

life waits for you like a bride?

Ah, no, Brothers, not for this did our mothers shriek

with pain and delight when we tore their flanks

with our first cry;

Not for this were we given command of the beasts,

Not with blood but with sweat were we bidden to achieve

our salvation.

Behold! I announce now to you a great tidings of joy,

For if your hands that are gathered in sheaves for the

sickle of war unite as a bouquet of flowers between

the warm breasts of peace,

Freedom will come without any blows save the hammers

on the chains of your wrists, and the picks on the

walls of your jails!

Arise, and against every hand jeweled with the rubies

of murder,

Against every mouth that sneers at the tears of mercy,

Against every foul smell of the earth,

Against every head that a footstool raises over your

head,

Against every word that was written before this was

said,


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/33

 Against every happiness that never knew sorrow,

And every glory that never knew love and sweat,

Against silence and death, and fear

Arise with a mighty roar!

Arise and declare your war;

For the wind of the dawn is blowing,

For the eyes of the East are glowing,

For the lark is up and the cock is crowing,

And the day of judgement is here!"

THUS shall he speak to the great parliament of the

dawn, the witness of this murderous midnight,

And even if none listens to him, I shall be there and

acclaim,

And even if they tear him to shreds, I shall be there to

confess him before your guns, and your gallows, O,

Monsters!

And even tho' you smite me with your bludgeon upon

my head,

And curse me and call me foul names, and spit on my

face and on my bare hands,

I swear that when the cock crows I shall not deny him.

And even if the power of your lie be so strong that my

own mother curse me as a traitor with her hands

clutched over her old breasts,

And my daughters with the almighty manes, turn their

faces from me and call me coward,

And the One whose love for me is a battleflag in the

storm, scream for the shame of me and adjure my

name,


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/34

 I swear that when the cock crows I shall not deny him.

And if you chain me and drag me before the Beast that

guards the seals of your power, and the caitiff that

conspires against the daylight demand my death,

And your hangman throw a black cowl over my head and

tie a noose around my neck,

And the black ghoul that pastures on the graves of the

saints dig its snout into my soul and howl the

terrors of the everlasting beyond in my ears,

Even then, when the cock crows, I swear I shall not

deny him.

And if you spring the trap under my feet and hurl me

into the gloom, and in the revelation of that instant

eternal a voice shriek madly to me

That the rope is forever unbreakable,

That the dawn is never to blaze,

That the night is forever invincible,

Even then, even then, I shall not deny him.


text:
Talk:A Garden (Lovecraft)

Title
Is is "The Garden" or "A Garden" ? -- Beardo (talk) 03:02, 6 February 2024 (UTC)

title: Talk:A Garden (Lovecraft)


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/35

 Caliban in the Coal Mines

By

God, we don't like to complain—

We know that the mine is no lark—

But—there's the pools from the rain;

But—there's the cold and the dark.

God, You don't know what it is—

You, in Your well-lighted sky,

Watching the meteors whizz;

Warm, with the sun always by.

God, if You had but the moon,

Stuck in Your cap for a lamp,

Even You'd tire of it soon,

Down in the dark and the damp.

Nothing but blackness above,

And nothing that moves but the cars—

God, if You wish for our love,

Fling us a handful of stars!


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/36

 Spring in New Hampshire

By CLAUDE McKAY.

Too green the springing April grass,

Too blue the silver-speckled sky,

For me to linger here, alas,

While happy winds go laughing by,

Wasting the golden hours indoors,

Washing windows and scrubbing floors.

Too wonderful the April night,

Too faintly sweet the first May flowers,

The stars too gloriously bright,

For me to spend the evening hours,

When fields are fresh and streams are leaping,

Wearied, exhausted, dully sleeping.


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/37

Sons of the sansculottes, Savage, erect, disdainful, Proud of their pariah estate, They return to the civilization that has cast them out, Hate for hate and blow for blow. Society denied them all life's sweet, soft, comfortable things, And so society raised up unto itself its destroyers.

Reckless of the jails, of the policemen's clubs, of the lynching parties made up of frightened good citizens, Cheerfully accepting the anathema of all reputable people and lovers of law and order, They laugh aloud and sing out of their little red book Blasphemous ribaldries against all the gods and all the masters. (Beware, gods and masters, of rebels who laugh and sing!) Onward to the conquest of earth these outlaws press, Pausing by the corpses of their martyrs only long enough To utter, grim-lipped, "We remember."


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/38

 WheatlandA Memory

By MIRIAM ALLEN DeFORD.

Dust—powdery dust—

Dust on the long benches and the rickety chairs of the courtroom—

Dust on the old-time desk with its hanging bulb concealed in an inky blotter—

Dust on the table covered with scabby red oilcloth—

Dust on the two cells downstairs, with their barred doors open to the street—

Dust on the heart of Wheatland—

Dust and cobwebs.

The wide empty street of Wheatland is vacant and quiet as a melancholiac.

Somnolent shops snore by the raised wooden paving.

The tiny hotel is bare and casual.

Dust—dust—dust in the sunlight on the powdery roads,

Dust on the houses with their tired hedges of honeysuckle,

Dust on the apathetic railroad station—

A curse of dust on the town of Wheatland.

The dust is all whispering

It whispers in the drab rutted streets—

It whispers through the torn hanging window-shades of the courtroom—

It whispers over the empty cells with their whitewashed sides scrawled with inscriptions—

("Ten days"—"nine days more"—Kentucky Slim did

36


text:
Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/39

 time here")—

It whispers ominously away off on the wind to the wheat-fields and the hop-fields—

It whispers till the heart is chilled—

It whispers till Ford and Suhr can hear it in Folsom.

A curse of whispering dust on the town of Wheatland!

A curse of sleep on the town of Wheatland!

A curse of hops on the town of Wheatland!

A curse of memories on the town of Wheatland!

37


text:
Page:The family kitchen gardener - containing plain and accurate descriptions of all the different species and varieties of culinary vegetables (IA familykitchengar56buis).pdf/12

 least eighteen inches deep: good vegetables can never be produced on sour soil, nor on thin soil of only a few inches depth. Care and attention are necessary in trenching, as on the proper disposition at first the after good will follow. I most decidedly condemn the mode of trenching ground generally recommended; that is, to bury the top spit, and turn up the cold, sour subsoil. Experience has taught me another lesson: Open the first trench two feet wide, by putting aside the top spit spade deep; then turn up the bottom, where it lies, at least the full depth of the spade, in the same manner as in digging; throw the top of the next trench on the top of the first subsoil, and so on, till the whole is finished. The general method of trenching is to turn the top soil down and the subsoil up. This is attended with evil consequences, as many years will elapse before the bad soil, which has been turned up, can be made equal to the good soil, which has been turned down.

Another point we call attention to—the inclination of the soil. Some authors in this country merely publish the ideas of those of Europe, without regard to their applicability to this climate, and have recommended an inclination of one foot in from fifteen to twenty feet. Such a declivity would, during our heavy rains, sweep soil, manure, seeds, &c., to the lowest ground. An inclination of one foot in forty, or merely sufficient to carry off the water, is all that is requisite. However, the means have frequently to be adapted to the ends. If the situation be necessarily on the side of a rising ground, throw it at once into terraces of any required breadth. Let the steeps be covered with turf, to prevent the washing away of the soil, and arrange the planes into sub-divisions for culture.

The shape or figure of a Garden is a point of little consequence, though the square, or any form approaching it, is the best and most convenient. The boundary lines may be of any form, but the interior sub-divisions work to the best advantage in even lines. With regard to size, that, of course, must de-


text:
Page:The family kitchen gardener - containing plain and accurate descriptions of all the different species and varieties of culinary vegetables (IA familykitchengar56buis).pdf/13

 pend upon the number of the family, and may vary from a quarter to a whole acre. The walks may be from three to six feet wide, straight or serpentine—the former preferred, however. Where fancy may dictate, the latter can be adopted, cropping the curves of the ground with flowers, fancy plants, or choice fruits. —I admit that the same vegetable can be grown upon the same spot with success, year after year, but I also assert that a rotation of crops will be more productive, which is of great importance in culinary gardening; therefore never grow exhausting crops in succession. Substitute those alternately of as different roots and constitution as possible. Keep these objects in view, and even with ordinary management we vouch for a crop. Assiduity in the destruction of weeds, neatness and cleanliness, a constant stirring of the soil, digging deep and manuring freely, must be the constant companions of the gardener; making the business a source of pleasure, profit and advantage to himself, and an object of admiration to others. —We may here premise that no garden will be worth its culture, unless well supplied with manure every year. The present day is a period of considerable agitation on this all important subject. We have tried several of the new manures, some of them to our loss and (when we have departed from the stable yard) few to our advantage. In Europe great attention has been given to this subject, and many specifics recommended, which, when tried, have had frequently uncertain results, though in particular cases they have been crowned with success. In this country, however, our resources of domestic materials are abundant, and on every farm and garden much goes to waste. All weeds and useless vegetables, sweepings of walks, &c., should be dug into the ground at once. The dung of domestic birds, compounded with fresh soil, is a great renovator; but, if applied by itself, use it sparingly. Guano can only be safely applied in solution, one pound to five


text:
Index talk:The Royal Book of Oz.djvu

Numbers at the bottom of pages
Which formatting are we using? I've seen both.

or SDudley (talk) 03:46, 6 February 2024 (UTC)

 * @Chrisguise SDudley (talk) 03:46, 6 February 2024 (UTC)
 * I would use the smaller version (since the page numbers are in a smaller font size) and a while ago I set up the Index page to add them in this format when new pages are created. I generally haven't been changing existing pages. Chrisguise (talk) 15:42, 9 February 2024 (UTC)

Source of transcription
Part of this work has had text provided by using 'match and split'. However, the edition used for that text is clearly not the same as this one. The main differences are in the punctuation: the edition being transcribed seems to largely eschew commas. There are minor differences in the wording too. Chrisguise (talk) 15:37, 9 February 2024 (UTC)

Its and It's
This work uses It's in places were modern usage would use Its. However, this is not a typo and therefore should not be marked-up using [sic]. Chrisguise (talk) 15:39, 9 February 2024 (UTC)

title: Index talk:The Royal Book of Oz.djvu


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/222

 The ultimatum was to expire on the same day that the new Asiatic Bill was to be carried through the Legislature. A meeting had been called some two hours after the expiry of the time limit to perform the public ceremony of burning the certificates. The Satyagraha Committee thought that the meeting would not be fruitless even if quite unexpectedly perhaps a favourable reply was received from the Government, as in that case the meeting could be utilized for announcing the Government’s favourable decision to the community.

The Committee however believed that the Government would not reply to the ultimatum at all. We had all reached the place of meeting early, and arranged for the Government’s reply by wire, if any, to be brought promptly to the meeting, which was held at four o’clock on the grounds of the Hamidia Mosque at Johannesburg (August 16, 1908). Every inch of space available was taken up by Indians of all classes. The Negroes of South Africa take their meals in iron cauldrons resting on four legs. One such cauldron of the largest size available in the market had been requisitioned from an Indian trader’s shop and set up on a platform in a corner of the grounds in order to burn the certificates.

As the business of the meeting was about to commence, a volunteer arrived on a cycle with a telegram from the Government in which they regretted the determination of the Indian community and announced their inability to change their line of action. The telegram was read to the audience which received it with cheers, as if they were glad that the auspicious opportunity of burning the certificates did not after all slip out of their hands as it would have if the Government had complied with the

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/222


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/223

 demands formulated in the ultimatum. It is difficult to pronounce any categorical opinion on the propriety or the reverse of such a feeling of gladness without a knowledge of the motives which prompted each of the audience who greeted the Government reply with applause. This much however can be said, that these cheers were a happy sign of the enthusiasm of the meeting. The Indians had now some consciousness of their strength.

The meeting began. The chairman put the meeting on their guard and explained the whole situation to them. Appropriate resolutions were adopted. I clearly detailed the various stages of the protracted negotiations and said, ‘If there is any Indian who has handed his certificate to be burnt but wants it to be returned to him, let him step forward and have it. Merely burning the certificates is no crime, and will not enable those who court imprisonment to win it. By burning the certificates we only declare our solemn resolution never to submit to the Black Act and divest ourselves of the power of even showing the certificates. But it is open to any one to take a copy tomorrow of the certificate that may be burned to ashes today, and if there are any persons here who contemplate such a cowardly act or doubt their own ability to stand the ordeal, there is still time for them to have their certificates back, and these can be given back to them. No one need be ashamed of getting his certificate back just now, as in doing so he will be exhibiting a certain kind of courage. But it would be not only shameful but also detrimental to the best interests of the community to get a copy of the certificate afterwards. Again let us take note that this is going to be a protracted struggle. We know that some of us have fallen out of the marching army, and the burden of those who remain has been made heavier to that extent. I would advise you to ponder over all these considerations and only then to take the plunge proposed today.’

Even during my speech there were voices saying, ‘We do not want the certificates back, burn them.’ Finally I suggested that if any one wanted to oppose the

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/223


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/224

 resolution, he should come forward, but no one stood up. Mir Alam too was present at this meeting. He announced that he had done wrong to assault me as he did, and to the great joy of the audience, handed his original certificate to be burnt, as he had not taken a voluntary certificate. I took hold of his hand, pressed it with joy, and assured him once more that I had never harboured in my mind any resentment against him.

The Committee had already received upwards of 2,000 certificates to be burnt. These were all thrown into the cauldron, saturated with paraffin and set ablaze by Mr Yusuf Mian. The whole assembly rose to their feet and made the place resound with the echoes of their continuous cheers during the burning process. Some of those who had still withheld their certificates brought them in numbers to the platform, and these too were consigned to the flames. When asked why he handed his certificate only at the last moment, one of these friends said that he did so as it was more appropriate and would create a greater impression on the onlookers. Another frankly admitted his want of courage and a feeling that the certificates might not be burnt after all. But he could not possibly withhold the certificate after he had seen the bonfire and gave it up, from an idea that the fate of all might well be his own fate too. Such frankness was a matter of frequent experience during the struggle.

The reporters of English newspapers present at the meeting were profoundly impressed with the whole scene and gave graphic descriptions of the meeting in their papers. A description of the meeting was sent to The Daily Mail (London) by its Johannesburg correspondent, in course of which he compared the act of the Indians in burning their certificates with that of the Boston Tea Party. I do not think this comparison did more than justice to the Indians, seeing that if the whole might of the British Empire was ranged against the hundreds of thousands of able Europeans in America, here in South Africa a helpless body of 13,000 Indians had challenged the powerful Government of the Transvaal. The Indians’ only

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/224


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/225

 weapon was a faith in the righteousness of their own cause and in God. There is no doubt that this weapon is all-sufficient and all-powerful for the devout, but so long as that is not the view of the man in the street, 13,000 unarmed Indians might appear insignificant before the well-armed Europeans of America. As God is the strength of the weak, it is as well that the world despises them.

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/225


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/226

 During the same year in which the Black Act was passed General Smuts carried through the Legislature another bill called the Transvaal Immigrants Restriction Bill (Act 15 of 1907), which was ostensibly of general application but was chiefly aimed at the Indians. This Act generally followed the lines of similar legislation in Natal, but it treated as prohibited immigrants those who could pass education tests but were ineligible for registration under the Asiatic Act, and was thus indirectly made an instrument for preventing the entry of a single Indian newcomer.

It was absolutely essential for the Indians to resist this fresh inroad on their rights, but the question was whether it should be made a plank in the Satyagraha struggle. The community was not bound as to when and regarding what subjects they should offer Satyagraha, in deciding which question they must only not transgress the limits prescribed by wisdom and appreciation of their own capacity. Satyagraha offered on every occasion seasonable or otherwise would be corrupted into Duragraha. And if any one takes to Satyagraha without having measured his own strength and afterwards sustains a defeat, he not only disgraces himself but he also brings the matchless weapon of Satyagraha into disrepute by his folly.

The Satyagraha Committee saw that the Indians’ Satyagraha was being offered only against the Black Act, and that if the Black Act was once repealed, the Immigration Restriction Act would lose the sting to which I have referred. Still if the Indians did not take any steps regarding the Immigration Act from an idea that a separate movement against it was unnecessary, their silence

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/226


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/227

 might be misconstrued as implying their consent to the total prohibition of Indian immigration in the future. The Immigration Act too must therefore be opposed and the only question was: Should this also be included in the Satyagraha struggle? The community’s view was that it was their duty to include in the Satyagraha any fresh attacks on their rights made while the struggle was in progress. If they did not feel strong enough to do so that was altogether a different matter. The leaders came to the conclusion that their lack or deficiency of strength should not be made a pretext for letting the Immigration Act alone, and that therefore this Act too must be covered by the Satyagraha struggle.

Correspondence was therefore carried on with the Government on this subject. We could not thereby induce General Smuts to agree to a change in the law, but it provided him with a fresh handle for vilifying the community and really speaking myself. General Smuts knew that many more Europeans, besides those who were publicly helping us, were privately sympathetic to our movement, and he naturally wished that their sympathy should be alienated if possible. He therefore charged me with raising a fresh point, and he told as well as wrote to our supporters that they did not know me as he did. If he yielded an inch, I would ask for an ell and therefore it was that he was not repealing the Asiatic Act. When Satyagraha was started, there was no question whatever about fresh immigrants. Now when he was legislating to prevent the fresh entry of any more Indians in the interest of the Transvaal, there too I had threatened Satyagraha. He could not any more put up with this ‘cunning.’ I might do my worst, and every Indian might be ruined, but he would not repeal the Asiatic Act, nor would the Transvaal Government give up the policy they had adopted regarding the Indians, and in this just attitude they were entitled to the support of all Europeans.

A little reflection will show how totally unjust and immoral this argument was. When there was nothing like the Immigrants Restriction Act at all in existence, how

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/227


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/228

 were the Indians or myself to oppose it? General Smuts talked glibly about his experience of what he called my ‘cunning’ and yet he could not cite a single case in point in support of his statement. And I do not remember to have ever resorted to cunning during all those years that I lived in South Africa. I may now go even farther and say without the least hesitation that I have never had recourse to cunning in all my life. I believe that cunning is not only morally wrong but also politically inexpedient, and have therefore always discountenanced its use even from the practical standpoint. It is hardly necessary for me to defend myself. I would even be ashamed of defending myself before the class of readers for whom this is written. If even now they have not seen that I am free from cunning, nothing that I could write in self-defence could convince them of that fact. I have penned these few sentences only with a view to give the reader an idea of the difficulties which were encountered during the Satyagraha struggle and of the imminent danger to the movement if the Indians even by a hair’s breadth swerved from the strait and narrow path. The rope-dancer, balancing himself upon a rope suspended at a height of twenty feet, must concentrate his attention upon the rope, and the least little error in so doing means death for him, no matter on which side he falls. My eight years’ experience of Satyagraha in South Africa has taught me that a Satyagrahi has to be if possible even more single-minded than the rope-dancer. The friends before whom General Smuts levelled this charge at me knew me well, and therefore the charge had an effect over them just the opposite of what General Smuts had desired. They, not only did not give me up or the movement but grew even more zealous in supporting us, and the Indians saw later on that they would have come in for no end of trouble if their Satyagraha had not been extended to the Immigration Act also.

My experience has taught me that a law of progression applies to every righteous struggle. But in the case of Satyagraha the law amounts to an axiom. As the

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/228


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/229

 Ganga advances, other streams flow into it, and hence at the mouth it grows so wide that neither bank is to be seen and a person sailing upon the river cannot make out where the river ends and the sea begins. So also as a Satyagraha struggle progresses onward, many another element helps to swell its current, and there is a constant growth in the results to which it leads. This is really inevitable, and is bound up with the first principles of Satyagraha. For in Satyagraha the minimum is also the maximum, and as it is the irreducible minimum, there is no question of retreat, and the only movement possible is an advance. In other struggles, even when they are righteous, the demand is first pitched a little higher so as to admit of future reduction, and hence the law of progression does not apply to all of them without exception But I must explain how the law of progression comes into play when the minimum is also the maximum as in Satyagraha. The Ganga does not leave its course in search of tributaries. Even so does the Satyagrahi not leave his path which is sharp as the sword’s edge. But as the tributaries spontaneously join the Ganga as it advances, so it is with the river that is Satyagraha. Seeing that the Immigration Act was included in the Satyagraha, some Indians ignorant of the principles of Satyagraha insisted upon the whole mass of the anti-Indian legislation in the Transvaal being similarly treated. Others again suggested a mobilization of Indians all over South Africa and the offering of Satyagraha against all anti-Indian legislation in Natal, the Cape Colony, the Orange Free State etc. while the Transvaal struggle was on. Both the suggestions involved a breach of principle. I distinctly said, that it would be dishonest now, having seen the opportunity, to take up a position which was not in view when Satyagraha was started. No matter how strong we were, the present struggle must close when the demands for which it was commenced were accepted. I am confident, that if we had not adhered to this principle, instead of winning, we would not only have lost all along the line, but also forfeited the sympathy which had been enlisted in our

S.A.-14

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/229


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/230

 favour. On the other hand if the adversary himself creates new difficulties for us while the struggle is in progress, they become automatically included in it. A Satyagrahi, without being false to his faith, cannot disregard new difficulties which confront him while he is pursuing his own course. The adversary is not a Satyagrahi, Satyagraha against Satyagraha is impossible,and is not bound by any limit of maximum or minimum. He can therefore try if he wishes to frighten the Satyagrahi by raising novel issues. But the Satyagrahi has renounced all fear, tackles by Satyagraha the later difficulties as well as the former and trusts that it will help him to hold his own against all odds. Therefore as a Satyagraha struggle is prolonged, that is to say by the adversary, it is the adversary who stands to lose from his own standpoint, and it is the Satyagrahi who stands to gain. We shall come across other illustrations of the working of this law in the later stages of this struggle.

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/230


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/231

 Now as Satyagraha was made to embrace the Immigration Act as well, Satyagrahis had to test the right of educated Indians to enter the Transvaal. The Committee decided that the test should not be made through any ordinary Indian. The idea was that some Indian, who did not come within the four corners of the definition of a prohibited immigrant in the new Act in so far as the definition was acceptable to the community, should enter the Transvaal and go to jail. We had thus to show that Satyagraha is a force containing within itself seeds of progressive self-restraint. There was a section in the Act to the effect that any person who was not conversant with a European language should be treated as a prohibited immigrant. The Committee therefore proposed that some Indian who knew English but who had not been to the Transvaal before should enter the country. Several young Indians volunteered for the purpose, out of whom Sorabji Shapurji Adajania was selected.

Sorabji was a Parsi. There were not perhaps more than a hundred Parsis in the whole of South Africa. I held in South Africa the same views about the Parsis as I have expressed in India. There are not more than a hundred thousand Parsis in the world, and this alone speaks volumes for their high character that such a small community has long preserved its prestige, clung to its religion and proved itself second to none in the world in point of charity. But Sorabji turned out to be pure gold. I was but slightly acquainted with him when he joined the struggle. His letters as regards participation in Satyagraha left a good impression on me. As I am a lover of the great qualities of the Parsis, I was not and I am not unaware of some of their defects as a community. I was therefore doubtful whether Sorabji would be able to stand to his

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/231


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/232

 guns in critical times. But it was a rule with me not to attach any weight to my own doubts where the party concerned himself asserted the contrary. I therefore recommended to the Committee that they should take Sorabji at his word, and eventually Sorabji proved himself to be a first class Satyagrahi. He not only was one of the Satyagrahis who suffered the longest terms of imprisonment, but also made such deep study of the struggle that his views commanded respectful hearing from all. His advice always betrayed firmness, wisdom, charity and deliberation. He was slow to form an opinion as well as to change an opinion once formed. He was as much of an Indian as of a Parsi, and was quite free from the ban of narrow communalism. After the struggle was over Doctor Mehta offered a scholarship in order to enable some good Satyagrahi to proceed to England for bar. I was charged with the selection. There were two or three deserving candidates, but all the friends felt that there was none who could approach Sorabji in maturity of judgment and ripeness of wisdom, and he was selected accordingly. The idea was, that on his return to South Africa he should take my place and serve the community. Sorabji went to England with the blessings of the community, and was duly called to the bar. He had already come in contact with Gokhale in South Africa, and his relations with him became closer in England. Sorabji captivated Gokhale who asked him to join the Servants of India Society when he returned to India. Sorabji became extremely popular among the students. He would share the sorrows of all, and his soul was not tarnished by the luxury and the artificiality in England. When he went to England, he was above thirty, and he had only a working knowledge of English. But difficulties vanish at the touch of man’s perseverance. Sorabji lived the pure life of a student and passed his examinations. The bar examinations in my time were easy. Barristers now-a-days have to study comparatively very much harder. But Sorabji knew not what it was to be defeated. When the ambulance corps was established in England, he was one of the pioneers as also

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/232


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/233

 one of those who remained in it till the last. This corps too had to offer Satyagraha in which many members fell back but Sorabji was at the head of those who would not give in. Let me state in passing that this Satyagraha of the ambulance corps was also crowned with victory.

After being called to the bar in England Sorabji returned to Johannesburg where he began to practise law as well as to serve the community. Every letter I received from South Africa was full of praise for Sorabji: ‘He is as simple in habits as ever, and free from the slightest trace of vanity. He mixes with all, rich as well as poor.’ But God seems to be as cruel as he is merciful. Sorabji caught galloping phthisis and died in a few months, leaving the Indians whose love he had freshly acquired to mourn his loss. Thus within a very short period God bereft the community of two outstanding personalities, Kachhalia and Sorabji. If I were asked to choose between the two, I would be at a loss to decide. In fact, each was supreme in his own field. And Sorabji was as good an Indian as he was a good Parsi, even as Kachhalia was as good an Indian as he was a good Musalman.

Thus Sorabji entered the Transvaal, having prevmusly informed the Government of his intention to test his right to remain in the country under the Immigrants Restriction Act. The Government were not at all prepared for this and could not at once decide what to do with Sorabji, who publicly crossed the border and entered the country. The Immigration Restriction Officer knew him. Sorabji told him that he was deliberately entering the Transvaal for a test case, and asked him to examine him in English or to arrest him just as he pleased. The Officer replied that there was no question of examining him as he was aware of his knowledge of English. He had no orders to arrest him. Sorabji might enter the country and the Government, if they wished, would arrest him where he went.

Thus contrary to our expectation Sorabji reached Johannesburg and we welcomed him in our midst. No one had hoped that the Government would permit him to

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/233


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/234

 proceed even an inch beyond the frontier station of Volksrust. Very often it so happens that when we take our steps deliberately and fearlessly, the government is not ready to oppose us. The reason for this lies in the very nature of government. A government officer does not ordinarily make his department so much his own as to arrange his ideas on every subject beforehand and make preparations accordingly. Again, the officer has not one but many things to attend to, and his mind is divided between them. Thirdly, the official suffers from the intoxication of power, is thus apt to be careless and believes that it is child’s play for the authorities to deal with any movement whatever. On the other hand, the public worker knows his ideal as well as the means to achieve his end, and if he has definite plans, he is perfectly ready to carry them out, and his work is the only subject of his thoughts day and night. If therefore he takes the right steps with decision, he is always in advance of the government. Many movements fail, not because governments are endowed with extraordinary power but because the leaders are lacking in the qualities just referred to.

In short, whether through the negligence or the set design of the Government Sorabji reached as far as Johannesburg, and the local officer had neither any idea of his duty in a case like this nor any instructions from his superiors on the point. Sorabji’s arrival increased our enthusiasm, and some young men thought that the Government were defeated and would soon come to terms. They saw their mistake very soon, however. They even realized that a settlement could perhaps be purchased only by the self-devotion of many a young man.

Sorabji informed the Police Superintendent, Johannesburg, about his arrival and let him know that he believed himself entitled to remain in the Transvaal in terms of the new Immigration Act, as he had ordinary knowledge of English, in respect of which he was ready to submit to an examination by the officer if he so desired. No reply to this letter was received, or rather the reply came after some days in the form of a summons.

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/234


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/235

 Sorabji’s case came before the Court on July 8, 1908. The court house was packed full of Indian spectators. Before the case began, we held a meeting of the Indians present on the grounds of the Court and Sorabji made a fighting speech, in which he announced his readiness to go to jail as often as necessary for victory and to brave all dangers and risks. In the meanwhile, I had got fairly familiar with Sorabji and assured myself that he would do credit to the community. The Magistrate took up the case in due course. I defended Sorabji, and at once asked for his discharge on the ground of the summons being defective. The Public Prosecutor also made an argument, but on the 9th the Court upheld my contention and discharged Sorabji who, however, immediately received warning to appear before the Court the next day, Friday, July 10, 1908.

On the 10th, the Magistrate ordered Sorabji to leave the Transvaal within seven days. After the Court’s order was served upon him, Sorabji informed Superintendent J. A. G. Vernon that it was not his desire to leave. He was accordingly brought to the Court once more, on the 20th, charged with failing to obey the Magistrate’s order, and sentenced to a month’s imprisonment with hard labour. The Government, however, did not arrest the local Indians as they saw that the more arrests there were the higher did the Indians’ spirit rise. Again Indians were sometimes discharged thanks to legal technicalities in the cases instituted against them and this also served to redouble the ardour of the community. Government had carried through the Legislature all the laws they wanted. Many Indians had indeed burnt the certificates but they had proved their right to remain in the country by their registration. Government therefore saw no sense in prosecuting them simply to send them to jail, and thought that the workers would cool down finding no outlet for their energies in view of the masterly inactivity of the Government. But they were reckoning without their host. The Indians took fresh steps to test the Government’s patience, which was soon exhausted.

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/235


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/236

 When the Indians saw through the Government’s game of tiring them out by fabian tactics they felt bound to take further steps. A Satyagrahi is never tired so long as he has the capacity to suffer. The Indians were therefore in a position to upset the calculations of the Government.

There were several Indians in Natal who possessed ancient rights of domicile in the Transvaal. They had no need to enter the Transvaal for trade, but the community held that they had the right of entry. They also had some knowledge of English. Again there was no breach of the principles of Satyagraha in educated Indians like Sorabji entering the Transvaal. We therefore decided that two classes of Indians should enter the Transvaal; first, those who had previously been domiciled in the country, and secondly, those who had received English education.

Of these Sheth Daud Mahomed and Parsi Rustomji were big traders, and Surendra Medh, Pragji Khandubhai Desai, Ratansi Mulji Sodha, Harilal Gandhi and others were ‘educated’ men. Daud Sheth came in spite of his wife being dangerously ill.

Let me introduce Sheth Daud Mahomed to the reader. He was president of the Natal Indian Congress, and one of the oldest Indian traders that came to South Africa. He was a Sunni Vora from Surat. I have seen but few Indians in South Africa who equalled him in tact. He had excellent powers of understanding. He had not had much literary education but he spoke English and Dutch well. He was skilful in his business intercourse with European traders. His liberality was widely known. About fifty guests would dine with him every day. He was one of

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/236


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/237

 the chief contributors to Indian collections. He had the priceless jewel of a son who far surpassed him in character. The boy's heart was pure as crystal. Daud Sheth never came in the way of his son's aspirations. Indeed it would be no exaggeration to say, that the father almost worshipped the son. He wished that none of his own defects should reappear in the boy and had sent him to England for education. But Daud Sheth lost this treasure of a son in his prime. Phthisis claimed Husen for its victim. This was a sore wound that never healed. With Husen died the high hopes which the Indians had cherished about him. He was a most truthful lad, and Hindu and Musalman were to him as the left and the right eye. Even Daud Sheth is now no more with us. Who is there upon whom Death does not lay his hands?

I have already introduced Parsi Rustomji to the reader. The names of several other friends who joined this ‘Asiatic invasion’ have been left out as I am writing this without consulting any papers, and I hope they will excuse me for it. I am not writing these chapters to immortalize names but to explain the secret of Satyagraha, and to show how it succeeded, what obstacles beset its path and how they were removed. Even where I have mentioned names I have done so in order to point out to the reader how men who might be considered illiterate distinguished themselves in South Africa, how Hindus, Musalmans, Parsis and Christians there worked harmoniously together and how traders, ‘educated’ men and others fulfilled their duty. Where a man of high merit has been mentioned, praise has been bestowed not upon him but only upon his merit.

When Daud Sheth thus arrived on the frontiers of the Transvaal with his Satyagrahi ‘army,’ the Government was ready to meet him. The Government would become an object of ridicule if it allowed such a large troop to enter the Transvaal, and was therefore bound to arrest them. So they were arrested, and on August 18, 1908 brought before the Magistrate who ordered them to leave the Transvaal within seven days. They disobeyed the

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/237


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/238

 order of course, were rearrested at Pretoria on the 28th and deported without trial. They re-entered the Transvaal on the 31st and finally on September 8 were sentenced at Volksrust to a fine of fifty pounds or three months’ imprisonment with hard labour. Needless to say, they cheerfully elected to go to gaol.

The Transvaal Indians were now in high spirits. If they could not compel the release of their Natal compatriots, they must certainly share their imprisonment. They therefore cast about for means which would land them in jail. There were several ways in which they could have their heart’s desire. If a domiciled Indian did not show his registration certificate, he would not be given a trading licence and it would be an offence on his part if he traded without licence. Again one must show the certificate if one wanted to enter the Transvaal from Natal, and would be arrested if one had none to show. The certificates had already been burnt and the line was therefore clear. The Indians employed both these methods. Some began to hawk without a licence while others were arrested for not showing certificates upon entering the Transvaal.

The movement was now in full swing. Every one was on his trial. Other Natal Indians followed Sheth Daud Mahomed’s example. There were many arrests in Johannesburg also. Things came to such a pass that any one who wished could get himself arrested. Jails began to be filled, ‘invaders’ from Natal getting three months and the Transvaal hawkers anything from four days to three months.

Among those who thus courted arrest was our ‘Imam Saheb,’ Imam Abdul Kadar Bavazir, who was arrested for hawking without a licence and sentenced on July 21, 1908 to imprisonment for four days with hard labour. Imam Saheb’s health was so delicate that people laughed when they heard of his courting arrest. Some people came to me and asked me not to take Imam Saheb for fear he might bring discredit upon the community. I disregarded this warning. It was none of my business to gauge the

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/238


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/239

 strength or weakness of Imam Saheb. Imam Saheb never walked barefooted, was fond of the good things of the earth, had a Malay wife, kept a well-furnished house and went about in a horse carriage. Very true, but who could read the depths of his mind? After he was released, Imam Saheb went to jail again, lived there as an ideal prisoner and took his meals after a spell of hard labour. At home he would have new dishes and delicacies every day; in jail he took mealie pap and thanked God for it. Not only was he not defeated, but he became simple in habits. As a prisoner he broke stones, worked as a sweeper and stood in a line with other prisoners. At Phoenix he fetched water and even set types in the press. Every one at the Phoenix Ashram was bound to acquire the art of type-setting. Imam Saheb learnt type-setting to the best of his ability. Now-a-days he is doing his bit in India.

But there were many such who experienced self-purification in jail.

Joseph Royeppen, barrister-at-law, a graduate of Cambridge University had been born in Natal of parents who were indentured labourers, but had fully adopted the European style of living. He would not go barefooted even in his house, unlike Imam Saheb who must wash his feet before prayers and must also pray barefooted. Royeppen left his law books, took up a basket of vegetables and was arrested as an unlicensed hawker. He too suffered imprisonment. ‘But should I travel third class?’ asked Royeppen. ‘If you travel first or second how can I ask any of the rest to travel third? Who in jail is going to recognize the barrister in you?’ I replied, and that was enough to satisfy Royeppen.

Many lads sixteen years old went to jail. One Mohanlal Manji Ghelani was only fourteen.

The jail authorities left no stone unturned to harass the Indians, who were given scavenger’s work, but they did it with a smile on their face. They were asked to break stones, and they broke stones with the name of Allah or Rama on their lips. They were made to dig tanks and put upon pick-axe work in stony ground. Their hands

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/239


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/240

 became hardened with the work. Some of them even fainted under unbearable hardships, but they did not know what it was to be beaten.

One must not suppose, that there were no internal jealousies or quarrels in jail. Food constitutes the eternal apple of discord, but we successfully avoided bickerings even over food.

I too was arrested again. At one time there were as many as seventy-five Indian prisoners in Volksrust jail. We cooked our own food. I became the cook as only I could adjudicate on the conflicting claims to the ration supplied. Thanks to their love for me my companions took without a murmur the half-cooked porridge I prepared without sugar.

Government thought that if they separated me from the other prisoners it might perhaps chasten me as well as the others. They therefore took me to Pretoria jail where I was confined in a solitary cell reserved for dangerous prisoners. I was taken out only twice a day for exercise. In Pretoria jail no ghi was provided to the Indians, unlike as in Volksrust. But I do not propose here to deal with our hardships in jail, for which the curious may turn to the account of my experiences of jail life in South Africa.

But yet the Indians would not take a defeat. Government was in a quandary. How many Indians could be sent to jail after all? And then it meant additional expenditure. The Government began to cast about for other means of dealing with the situation.

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/240


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/241

 The obnoxious Acts provided for three kinds of punishment, viz., fine, imprisonment and deportation. The Courts were empowered simultaneously to award all the punishments, and all magistrates were given jurisdiction to impose the maximum penalties. At first deportation meant taking the ‘culprit’ into the limits of Natal, the Orange Free State or Portuguese East Africa beyond the Transvaal frontier and leaving him there. As for instance the Indians who crossed over from Natal were taken beyond the limits of Volksrust station and there left to their own devices. Deportation of this kind was a farce pure and simple, as it involved only a little inconvenience, and instead of disheartening them it only encouraged the Indians still further.

The local Government therefore had to find out fresh means of harassing the Indians. The jails were already overcrowded. The Government thought that the Indians would be thoroughly demoralized and would surrender at discretion if they could be deported to India. There was some ground for this belief of the Government who accordingly sent a large batch of Indians to India. These deportees suffered great hardships. They had nothing to eat except what Government chose to provide for them on the steamers, and all of them were sent as deck passengers. Again some of them had their landed as well as other property and their business in South Africa, many had their families there, while others were also in debt. Not many men would be ready to lose their all and turn into perfect bankrupts.

All this notwithstanding, many Indians remained perfectly firm. Many more however weakened and ceased to court arrest, although they did not weaken to the extent

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/241


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/242

 of getting duplicates of the burnt certificates. Some few were even terrorized into registering afresh.

Still there was a considerable number of stalwarts who were so brave that some of them, I believe, would have mounted the gallows with a smile on their face. And if they cared little for life, they cared still less for property. But many of those who were deported to India were poor and simple folk who had joined the movement from mere faith. That these should be oppressed so heavily was almost too much to bear. However it was difficult to see our way to assist them. Our funds were meagre, and then there was the danger of losing the fight altogether if we proceeded to give monetary help. Not a single person was permitted to join the movement from pecuniary inducements; for otherwise the movement would have been choked up by men coming in on the strength of such selfish hopes. We felt it was incumbent upon us, however, to help the deportees with our sympathies.

I have seen from experience that money cannot go as far as fellow-feeling, kind words and kind looks can. If a man, who is eager to get riches gets the riches from another but without sympathy, he will give him up in the long run. On the other hand, one who has been conquered by love is ready to encounter no end of difficulties with him who has given him his love.

We therefore resolved to do for the deportees all that kindness could do. We comforted them with the promise, that proper arrangements would be made for them in India. The reader must remember that many of them were ex-indentured labourers, and had no relations in India. Some were even born in South Africa, and to all India was something like a strange land. It would be sheer cruelty if these helpless people upon being landed in India were left to shift for themselves. We therefore assured them that all suitable arrangements would be made for them in India.

But this was not enough. The deportees could not be comforted so long as some one was not sent with them to be their companion and guide. This was the first batch of

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/242


text:
Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/243

 deportees, and their steamer was to start in a few hours. There was not much time for making a selection. I thought of P. K. Naidoo, one of my co-workers, and asked him:

‘Will you escort these poor brothers to India?’

‘Why not?’

‘But the steamer is starting just now.’

‘Let it.’

‘What about your clothes? And food?’

‘As for clothes, the suit I have on will suffice, and I will get the food from the steamer all right.’

This was a most agreeable surprise for me. The conversation took place at Parsi Rustomji’s. There and then I procured some clothes and blankets for Naidoo and sent him on.

‘Take care and look after these brothers on the way. See first to their comforts and then to your own. I am cabling to Shri Natesan at Madras, and you must follow his instructions.’

‘I will try to be a true soldier.’ So saying P. K. Naidoo left for the pier. Victory must be certain with such valiant fighters, I said to myself. Naidoo was born in South Africa and had never been to India before. 1 gave him a letter of recommendation to Shri Natesan and also sent a cablegram.

In those days Shri Natesan perhaps stood alone in India as a student of the grievances of Indians abroad, their valued helper, and a systematic and well-informed exponent of their case. I had regular correspondence with him. When the deportees reached Madras, Shri Natesan rendered them full assistance. He found his task easier for the presence of an able man like Naidoo among the deportees. He made local collections and did not allow the deportees to feel for a moment that they had been deported.

These deportations by the Transvaal Government were as illegal as they were cruel. People are generally unaware that governments often deliberately violate their own laws. In face of emergency there is no time for

title: Page:Satyagraha in South Africa.pdf/243