The Natives of India, more particularly
the Hindoos, are accustomed to pay particular attention
to the habits of the varied monkey race, conceiving
them to be connecting links in the order of Nature
between brutes and rational creatures; or, as some
imagine and assert, (without any other foundation
than conjecture and fancy), that they were originally
a race of human beings, who for their wicked deeds
have been doomed to perpetuate their disgrace and
punishment to the end of time in the form and manner
we see them, inhabiting forests, and separated from
their superior man.
I have had very few opportunities
of acquainting myself with the general principles
of the Hindoo belief, but I am told, there are amongst
them those who assert that one of their deities was
transformed to a particular kind of monkey, since
designated Hummoomaun, after the object of their
adoration; whence arises the marked veneration paid
by Hindoos of certain sects to this class of monkeys.
The Natives firmly believe the whole
monkey race to be gifted with reason to a certain
extent, never accounting for the sagacity and cunning
they are known to possess by instinctive habits; arguing
from their own observations, that the monkeys are
peaceable neighbours, or inveterate enemies to man,
in proportion as their good will is cultivated by kindness
and hospitality, or their propensity to revenge roused
by an opposite line of conduct towards them.
The husbandman, whose land is in the
vicinity of a forest, and the abode of monkeys, secures
safety to his crops, by planting a patch of ground
with that species of grain which these animals are
known to prefer. Here they assemble, as appetite
calls, and feast themselves upon their own allotment;
and, as if they appreciated the hospitality of the
landlord, not a blade is broken, or a seed destroyed
in the fields of corn to the right and left of their
plantation. But woe to the farmer who neglects
this provision; his fields will not only be visited
by the marauders, but their vengeance will be displayed
in the wasteful destruction of his cultivation.
This undoubtedly looks more like reason than instinct;
and if credit could be given to half the extraordinary
tales that are told of them, the monkeys of India
might justly be entitled to a higher claim than that
of instinct for their actions.
Monkeys seem to be aware that snakes
are their natural enemies. They never advance
in pursuit of, yet they rarely run from a snake; unless
its size renders it too formidable an object for their
strength and courage to attack with anything like
a prospect of success in destroying it. So great
is the animosity of the monkey race to these reptiles,
that they attack them systematically, after the following
manner:
When a snake is observed by a monkey,
he depends on his remarkable agility as a safeguard
from the enemy. At the most favourable opportunity
he seizes the reptile just below the head with a firm
grasp, then springs to a tree, if available, or to
any hard substance near at hand, on which he rubs
the snake’s head with all his strength until
life is extinct; at intervals smelling the fresh blood
as it oozes from the wounds of his victim. When
success has crowned his labour, the monkey capers about
his prostrate enemy, as if in triumph at the victory
he has won; developing, as the Natives say, in this,
a striking resemblance to man.
Very few monkeys, in their wild state,
ever recover from inflicted wounds; the reason assigned
by those who have studied their usual habits is, that
whenever a poor monkey has been wounded, even in the
most trifling way, his associates visit him by turns,
when each visitor, without a single exception, is
observed to scratch the wound smartly with their nails.
A wound left to itself might be expected to heal in
a short time, but thus irritated by a successive application
of their sharp nails, it inflames and increases.
Mortification is early induced by the heated atmosphere,
and death rapidly follows.
The monkeys’ motives for adding
to their neighbour’s anguish, is accounted for
by some speculators on the score of their aversion
to the unnatural smell of blood; or they are supposed
to be actuated by a natural abhorrence to the appearance
of the wound, not by any means against the wounded;
since in their domestic habits, they are considered
to be peaceable and affectionate in their bearings
towards each other. The strong will exercise
mastery over the weak where food is scarce, but, in
a general way, they are by no means quarrelsome or
revengeful amongst themselves. They are known
to hold by each other in defending rights and privileges,
if the accounts given by credible Natives be true,
who add that a whole colony of monkeys have been known
to issue forth in a body to revenge an injury sustained
by an individual of their tribe; often firing a whole
village of chupha-roofs, where the aggressor is known
to be a resident, who in his anger may have maimed
or chastised one of their colony.
The female monkey is remarkable for
her attachment to her progeny, which she suckles until
it is able to procure food for its own sustenance.
When one of her young dies, the mother is observed
to keep it closely encircled in her arms, moaning
piteously with true maternal feelings of regret, and
never parting with it from her embrace until the dead
body becomes an offensive mass: and when at last
she quits her hold, she lays it on the ground before
her, at no great distance, watching with intense anxiety
the dead body before her, which she can no longer
fold in her embrace, until the work of decomposing
has altered the form of the creature that claimed
her tender attachment. What an example is here
given to unnatural mothers who neglect or forsake
their offspring!
I shall here insert a few anecdotes
illustrative of the opinions of the Natives on the
subject of monkeys being possessed of reasoning faculties.
They shall be given exactly as I have received them,
not expecting my readers will give to them more credit
than I am disposed to yield to most of these tales;
but as they are really believed to be true by the Natives
who relate them, I feel bound to afford them a place
in my work, which is intended rather to describe men
as they are, than men as I wish to see them.
In the neighbourhood of Muttra is
an immense jungle or forest, where monkeys abound
in great numbers and variety. Near a village bordering
this forest, is a large natural lake which is said
to abound with every sort of fish and alligators.
On the banks of this lake are many trees, some of
which branch out a great distance over the water.
On these trees monkeys of a large description, called
Lungoor, gambol from spray to spray in happy amusement:
sometimes they crowd in numbers on one branch, by which
means their weight nearly brings the end of the bough
to the surface of the water; on which occasion it
is by no means unusual for one or more of their number
to be lessened.
Whether the monkeys told their thoughts
or not, my informant did not say, but the retailers
of this story assert, that the oldest monkey was aware
that his missing brethren had been seized by an alligator
from the branch of the tree, whilst they were enjoying
their amusement. This old monkey, it would seem,
resolved on revenging the injury done to his tribe,
and formed a plan for retaliating on the common enemy
of his race.
The monkeys were observed by the villagers,
for many successive days, actively occupied in collecting
the fibrous bark of certain trees, which they were
converting into a thick rope. The novelty of this
employment surprised the peasants and induced them
to watch daily for the result. When the rope
was completed, from sixty to seventy of the strongest
monkeys conveyed it to the tree: having formed
a noose at one end with the nicest care, the other
end was secured by them to the overhanging arm of
the tree. This ready, they commenced their former
gambols, jumping about and crowding on the same branch
which had been so fatal to many of their brethren.
The alligator, unconscious of the
stratagem thus prepared to secure him, sprang from
the water as the branch descended but instead of catching
the monkey he expected, he was himself caught in the
noose; and the monkeys moving away rather precipitately,
the alligator was drawn considerably above the surface
of the water. The more he struggled the firmer
he was held by the noose; and here was his skeleton
to be seen many years after, suspended from the tree
over the water, until time and the changes of season
released the blanched bones from their exalted situation,
to consign them to their more natural element in the
lake below.
On one occasion, a Hindoo traveller
on his way to Muttra, from his place of residence,
drew down the resentment of the monkeys inhabiting
the same forest, by his inattention to their well-known
habits. The story is told as follows:
’The man was travelling with
all his worldly wealth about his person: viz.,
fifty gold mohurs, (each nearly equal to two pounds
in value), and a few rupees, the savings of many
a year’s hard service, which were secreted in
the folds of his turban; a good suit of clothes on
his back; a few gold ornaments on his neck and arms;
and a bundle of sundries and cooking vessels.
’The Hindoo was on foot, without
companions, making his way towards the home of his
forefathers, where he hoped with his little treasury
to be able to spend his remaining years in peace with
his family and friends, after many years’ toil
and absence from his home. He stopped near to
the lake in question, after a long and fatiguing march,
to rest himself beneath the shade of the trees, and
cook his humble meal of bread and dhall. I ought
here, perhaps, to say, that this class of Natives always
cook in the open air, and, if possible, near a river,
or large body of water, for the purpose of bathing
before meals, and having water for purifying their
cooking utensils, &c.
’The man having undressed himself,
and carefully piled his wardrobe beneath the tree
he had selected for shelter, went to the lake and bathed;
after which he prepared his bread, and sat himself
down to dine. As soon as he was comfortably seated,
several large monkeys advanced and squatted themselves
at a respectful distance from him, doubtless expecting
to share in the good things he was enjoying.
But, no: the traveller was either too hungry
or inhospitable, for he finished his meal, without
tendering the smallest portion to his uninvited visitors,
who kept their station watching every mouthful until
he had finished.
’The meal concluded, the traveller
gathered his cooking vessels together and went to
the bank of the lake, in order to wash them, as is
customary, and to cleanse his mouth after eating;
his clothes and valuables were left securely under
the tree as he imagined, if he thought at
all about them, for he never dreamed of
having offended the monkeys by eating all he had cooked,
without making them partakers. He was no sooner
gone, however, than the monkeys assembled round his
valuables; each took something from the collection;
the oldest among them having secured the purse of
gold, away they ran to the tree over the very spot
where the man was engaged in polishing his brass vessels.
The Hindoo had soon completed his
business at the lake, and unconscious of their movements,
he had returned to the tree, where to his surprise
and sorrow, he discovered his loss. Nearly frantic,
the Hindoo doubted not some sly thief had watched
his motions and removed his treasures, when he heard
certain horrid yells from the monkeys which attracted
his attention: he returned hastily to the lake,
and on looking up to the tree, he discovered his enemies
in the monkeys. They tantalized him for some time
by holding up the several articles to his view, and
when the old monkey shook the bag of gold, the poor
man was in an agony; they then threw the whole into
the lake, the coins, one by one, were cast into the
deep water, where not a shadow of hope could be entertained
of their restoration, as the lake was deep and known
to be infested with alligators.
’The man was almost driven mad
by this unlooked-for calamity, by which he was deprived
of the many comforts his nursed treasure had so fairly
promised him for the remainder of life. He could
devise no plan for recovering his lost valuables,
and resolved on hastening to the nearest village,
there to seek advice and assistance from his fellow-men;
where having related his unfortunate adventures, and
declaring he had done nothing to anger the creatures,
he was asked if he had dined, and if so, had he given
them a share? He said, he had indeed cooked his
dinner, and observed the monkeys seated before him
whilst he dined, but he did not offer them any.
’"That, that, is your offence!”
cried the villagers in a breath; “who would
ever think of eating without sharing his meal with
men or with animals? You are punished for your
greediness, friend.” “Be it
so,” said the traveller; “I am severely
used by the brutes, and am now resolved on punishing
them effectually in return for the ill they have done
me.”
’He accordingly sold the gold
ornaments from his arms and neck, purchased a quantity
of sugar, ghee, flour, and arsenic, returned to his
old quarters, prepared everything for cooking, and,
in a short time, had a large dish filled with rich-looking
cakes, to tempt his enemies to their own ruin.
’The feast was prepared in the
presence of the assembled multitude of monkeys.
The Hindoo placed the dish before his guests, saying,
“There, my lords! your food is ready!”
The old monkey advanced towards the dish, took up
a cake, raised it to his nose, and then returning it
to the dish, immediately ran off, followed by the
whole of his associates into the thick jungle.
’The man began to despair, and
thought himself the most unlucky creature existing;
when, at length, he saw them returning with augmented
numbers; he watched them narrowly, and observed each
monkey had a green leaf in his paw, in which he folded
a cake and devoured the whole speedily. The man
expected of course to see them sicken immediately,
for the quantity of arsenic he had used was sufficient,
he imagined to have killed twenty times their number.
But, no: his stratagem entirely failed; for the
leaf they had provided themselves was an antidote
to the poison put into their food. The traveller
thus sacrificed even that little which would have
carried him on his journey, had he been satisfied with
his first loss; but the Hindoo cherished a revengeful
disposition, and thereby was obliged to beg his way
to his family.’
The next monkey story is equally marvellous,
the Natives believe that it actually occurred; I am
disposed, however, to think all these stories were
originally fables to impress a moral upon the ignorant.
’Near a small town in the province
of Oude there is a jungle of some extent, inhabited
by monkeys. A certain man of the Hindoo class,
residing in the town, resolved upon enjoying himself
one day with a bottle of arrack he had procured by
stealth, and since it is well known that spirits or
fermented liquors are prohibited articles in the territories
governed by Mussulmaun rulers, the man betook himself
with his treat to the neighbouring jungle, where in
private he might drink the spirit he loved, and escape
the vigilance of the police.
’Arriving at a convenient spot,
the Hindoo seated himself under a tree, prepared his
hookha, drew from his wrapper the bottle of spirits,
and a small cup he had provided; and if ever he knew
what happiness was in his life, this moment was surely
his happiest.
’He drank a cup of his liquor,
smoked his hookha with increased relish, and thought
of nothing but his present enjoyment. Presently
he heard the sound of rustling in the trees, and in
a few minutes after, a fine sturdy monkey, of the
Lungoor tribe, placed himself very near to him and
his bottle.
’The Hindoo was of a lively
temper, and withal kindly disposed towards the living,
though not of his own species. Having a cake of
dry bread in his waistband, he broke off a piece and
threw it to his visitor; the monkey took the bread
and sniffed at the cup. “Perhaps you may
like to taste as well as to smell,” thought
the Hindoo, as he poured out the liquor into the cup,
and presented it to his guest.
’The monkey raised the cup with
both paws to his mouth, sipped of its contents, winked
his eyes, appeared well satisfied with the flavour,
and to the surprise of the Hindoo, finished the cup,
which was no sooner done, than away he sprang up the
tree again.
’"Had I known you would run
away so soon, my guest, I should have spared my arrack;”
thought the Hindoo. But the monkey quickly returned
to his old position, threw down a gold mohur to his
entertainer, and sat grinning with apparent satisfaction.
The Hindoo, astonished at the sight of gold, thought
to repay his benefactor by another cup of spirits,
which he placed before the monkey, who drank it off,
and again mounted the tree, and shortly returned with
a second gold mohur.
’Delighted with the profit his
arrack produced, the Hindoo drank sparingly himself,
for each time the monkey took a cup, a gold mohur was
produced, until the man counted eight of these valuable
coins on his palm. By this time, however, the
monkey was completely overcome by the strength of his
potations, and lay apparently senseless before the
Hindoo, who fancied now was his turn to mount the
tree, where he found, on diligent search, in a hollow
place, a small bag of gold mohurs, with which he walked
off, leaving the monkey prostrate on the earth.
’The Hindoo determined on going
some distance from his home, in a different direction,
fearing his secret treasure might be the means of
drawing him into difficulties amongst the people of
his own town, who had probably been robbed by the
monkey at some previous period.
’In the meanwhile the monkey
is supposed to have recovered from his stupor, and
the next morning on discovering his loss, he set up
a horrid yell, which brought together all his fellow-inhabitants
of the jungle; and some neighbouring villagers saw
an immense number of monkeys of all sorts and sizes,
collected together in a body. The story runs that
this army of monkeys was headed by the one who had
recovered from his drunken fit, and that they marched
away from the jungle in pursuit of the robber.
’Their first march was to the
adjacent village, where every house was visited in
turn by the monkeys, without success; no one ever venturing
to obstruct or drive away the intruders, fearing their
resentment. After which they sallied out of the
village to the main road, minutely looking for footsteps,
as a clue, on the sandy pathway; and by this means
discovering the track of the Hindoo, they pursued the
road they had entered throughout the day and night.
Early in the morning of the following day, the monkeys
advanced to the serai (inn, or halting place for travellers)
soon after the Hindoo himself had quitted it, who had
actually sojourned there the previous night.
’On the road, when the horde
of monkeys met any traveller, he was detained by them
until the chief of them had scrutinized his features,
and he was then liberated on finding he was not the
person they were in pursuit of. After having
marched nearly forty miles from their home, they entered
one of the halting places for travellers, where the
Hindoo was resting after his day’s journey.
’The monkey having recognized
the robber, immediately grasped him by the arm, and
others entering, the frightened robber was searched,
the purse discovered in his wrapper, which the chief
monkey angrily seized, and then counted over its contents,
piece by piece. This done, finding the number
correct, the monkey selected eight pieces, and threw
them towards the Hindoo; and distributing the remaining
number of gold mohurs amongst the monkeys, who placed
each his coin in the hollow of his cheek, the whole
body retired from the serai to retrace their steps
to the jungle.’