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John Lang - Rani of Jhani's Lawyer
"Main
Meri Jhansi Nahi Doongi" - the most famous words of India's greatest
patriots, Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi when informed of the annexation of
her kingdom. They have been immortalized in popular Indian lexicon and
replayed in movies and plays through the centuries. We all have a mental
picture of the Queen with her eyes burning red in anger tearing down
her purdah in view of the fully durbar. Expressing her rage and anguish
at the unjust decision of the British East India company unlawfully
taking what belonged to her. We can't but help emphasize with her , with
her loss. While we as an audience in this historical drama may applaud
the brave Rani and her words,what else do we know of this episode? Where
did Rani utter these words and why? How did rest of the world get to
know her famous words?
I
think it is important for anyone to know the contexts in which there
historic incidents are framed. I investigated extensively as to who was
present when this incident occurred and what actually happened. My
discovery was startling and interesting. It brings out a biography of a
very interesting man, who can only be described as a true friend of
India and Indians.
John
Long, Australia's first native novelist and a lawyer to Rani Lakshmibai
of Jhansi was one of the most extraordinary gentlemen of his age. In
the high age of imperialism and colonialism, he was one of the few white
men who stood up for the rights of the "natives". John Lang was a
friend and admirer of India and Indians at a time where "native Indians"
were considered to be barbaric and had to be civilized. He lived and
travelled extensively in India interacting with Indians. He earned the
wrath of the ruling British class for his championing of the Indian
cause. As a mofussil lawyer, he helped protect the interests of his
Indian clients against their haughty British rulers. It was due to his
position as an honest lawyer that he was approached by Jhansi durbar to
fight the adoption case of the Rani.
It
was during his trip to Jhansi, in his meeting with Rani Lakshmibai,
that she uttered the famous phrase "Mai Meri Jhansi Nahi Doongi". I will
not reveal more. Do read ahead to hear about first hand account of his
trip to Jhansi in John Lang's own words (which also is one of the best
first hand accounts of how the Rani actually looked like):
A trip to Jhansi and meeting the Rani:
This
is an excerpt from the book "Wanderings in India" , published in 1861,
which has the first had account of John Lang's trip to Jhansi and his
interactions with Rani Lakshmibai. This is perhaps the only such account
written in English, through extremely interesting and revealing. Read
on! -
"About
a month after the order had gone forth for the annexation of the little
province of Jhansi (in 1854), and previous to a wing of the 13th Native
Infantry occupying the country, I received a letter in Persian, written
upon "gold paper" from the Ranee begging me to pay her a visit. The
letter was brought to me by two natives of rank. One had been the
financial minister of the late Rajah. The other was the head vakeel
(attorney) of the Ranee.
I
was at Agra when I received the Ranee's letter, and Agra is two days'
journey. Even as I travelled from Jhansi, I sympathized with the woman.
The boy whom the Rajah had adopted was only six years old, and during
his minority, that is to say, until he had attained his eighteenth year,
the Ranee - so the Rajah willed - was to have been the Regent, and the
boy's guardian; and it is no small matter for a woman - a native woman
of rank, too - to give up such a position and become a pensioner, even
on Rs 60,000 year. Let me detail the particulars of my journey to the
residence of the Ranee of Jhansi. I got into my palanquin at dusk, and
on the following morning, at daylight, arrived at Gwalior. The Rajah of
Jhansi had a small house about a mile and a half from the cantonment,
which was used as a halting-place, and thither I was taken by the
minister and the vakeel who accompanied me.
At
ten o'clock, after I had breakfasted and smoked my hookah, it was
proposed that we "go on at once." The day was very warm, but the Ranee
had sent a large and comfortable palanquin carriage; in short, it was
more like a small room than a carriage, fitted up as it was with every
convenience, including even a punkah, which was pulled from the outside
by a servant, who sat upon a foot-board. In the carriage, beside myself
and the minister and vakeel, was a khansamah, or butler, who, with the
apparatus between his knees, kept on cooling water, and wine, and beer,
in order that, whenever I felt thirsty, I might be supplied at a
moment's notice. This enormous carriage was drawn by a pair of horses of
immense strength and swiftness. Each stood about seventeen hands high.
The )ate Rajah had imported them from France at a cost of 1500l. The
road was rather rough in many places, but, on the average, we got over
it at the rate of about nine miles an hour.
At
about two o'clock in the day we entered the Jhansi territory, having
changed horses twice, and we had now some nine miles to drive. Hitherto
we had been escorted only by four sowars (horsemen), but now our escort
amounted to about fifty, each horseman carrying an immense spear, and
dressed much in the same way as the Irregular Cavalry in the pay of the
East India Company. And along the road, at intervals of a few hundred
yards, were horsemen drawn up, and as we passed, they joined the
cavalcade; so that by the time we came in sight of the fortress —
if those old weak walls, surmounted by some nine pieces of old ordnance
of inferior calibre, deserved the name - the whole strength of the
Jhansi cavalry was in attendance. The carriage was driven to a place
called " the Rajah's garden," where I alighted, and was conducted by the
financial minister and the vakeel and other servants of state, to a
large tent, which was pitched beneath a clump of gigantic mango trees.
The tent, which was that in which the late Rajah used to receive the
civil and military officers of the British Government, was elegantly
fitted up, and carpeted; and at least a dozen domestic servants were
ready to do my bidding.
I
must not omit to mention that the companions or my journey - the
minister and the vakeel - were both men of good ability and pleasing
manners. They were, moreover, men of learning, so that my time upon the
road had been beguiled very agreeably. The Ranee had consulted one of
the many Brahmins who were supported by her as to the most propitious
hour for me to come to the purdah behind which she sat; and the Brahmins
had told her that it must be between the setting of the sun and the
rising of the moon, which was then near her full; in other words,
between half-past five and half-past six o'clock.
This
important matter having been communicated to me, I expressed myself
perfectly satisfied with the time of the appointment, and ordered dinner
accordingly. This done, the financial minister, after betraying some
embarrassment, intimated that he wished to speak to me on a rather
delicate subject, and that, with my permission, he would order all the
menial servants in attendance on me, including my own sirdar-bearer
(valet), to leave the tent and stand at a distance. I complied, of
course, and presently found myself alone with only the "officials"
(eight or nine in number) of the little native state of Jhansi. What the
finance minister wished to ask me was this - Would I consent to leave
my shoes at the door when I entered the Ranee's apartment? I inquired if
the Governor-General's agent did so. He replied that the
Governor-General's agent had never had an interview with the Ranee; and
that the late Rajah had never received any European gentleman in the
private apartments of the palace, but in a room set apart for the
purpose, or in the tent in which we were conversing. I was in some
difficulty, and scarcely knew what to say, for I had a few years
previously declined to be presented to the King of Delhi, who insisted
on Europeans taking off their shoes when they entered his presence.
The
idea was repugnant to my mind and I said as much to the minister of the
late Rajah of Jhansi; and I asked him whether he would attend a levee
at the palace of the Queen of England, if informed that he must enter
her Majesty's presence with his head uncovered, as did all her subjects,
from the lowest to the highest. To this question he would not give me a
direct answer, but remarked, "You may wear your hat, Sahib; the Ranee
will not mind that. On the contrary, she will regard it as an additional
mark of respect towards her." Now this was what I did not want. My
desire was that she should consider the wearing of my hat, supposing I
consented to take off my shoes, as a species of compromise on her part
as well as on my part. But I was so amused with this bargaining, as it
were, that I consented; giving them distinctly to understand, however,
that it was to be considered not as a compliment to her rank and
dignity, but to her sex, and her sex alone. That great point settled, I
partook of a very sumptuous repast that was prepared for me, and awaited
patiently the setting of the sun or the rising of the moon, determined,
however, that I would wear my hat - a black "wide-awake," covered with a
white turban.
The
hour came, and the white elephant (an Albino, one of the very few in
all India), bearing on his immense back a silver houdah, trimmed with
red velvet, brought to the tent. I ascended the steps, which were also
covered with red was velvet, and took my place. The mahoot, or
elephant-driver, was attired in the most gorgeous manner. The ministers
of state, mounted on white Arabs, rode on either side of the elephant;
the Jhansi cavalry lining the road to the palace, and thus forming an
avenue. The palace was about half a mile distant from my encampment
ground.
Ere
long we arrived at the gates, at which the attendants on foot began to
knock violently; A wicket was opened, and closed hastily. Information
was then sent to the Ranee; and, after a delay of about ten minutes, the
"hookum" (order) came to open the gates. I entered on the elephant, and
alighted in a court-yard. The evening was very warm, and I fancied that
I should be suffocated by the crowd of natives (retainers) who flocked
around me. Observing my discomfiture, the minister imperiously commanded
them to "stand back!" After another brief delay, I was asked to ascend a
very narrow stone staircase, and on the landing was met by a native
gentleman, who was some relative to the Ranee. He showed me first into
one room and then into another. These rooms (six or seven), like all
rooms of the kind, were unfurnished, save and except that the floors
were carpeted; but from the ceiling punkahs and chandeliers were
suspended, and on the walls were native pictures of Hindoo gods and
goddesses, with here and there a large mirror. At length I was led to
the door of a room, at which the native gentleman knocked. A female
voice from within inquired, "Who is there?"
"Sahib,"
was the reply. After another brief delay, thee door was opened by some
unseen hand, and the native gentleman asked me to enter, informing me,
at the same time, that he was about to leave me. A brief delay now
occurred upon my part. It was with great difficulty that I could bring
myself to take off my shoes. At length, however, I accomplished it, and
entered the apartment in "stocking feet." In the centre of the room,
which was richly carpeted, was an arm-chair of European manufacture, and
around it were strewn garlands of flowers (Jhansi is famous for its
beautiful and sweet-smelling flowers). At the end of the room was a
purdah or curtain, and behind it people were talking. I sat myself down
in the arm-chair, and instinctively took off my hat; but recollecting my
resolve, I replaced it, and rather firmly - pulling it well down, so as
completely to conceal my forehead. It was a foolish resolve, perhaps,
on my part, for the hat kept the breeze of the punkah from cooling my
temples.
I
could hear female voices prevailing upon a child to "go to the Sahib,"
and could hear the child objecting to do so. Eventually, he was
"launched" into the room; and upon my speaking kindly to the child, he
approached me - but very timidly. His dress and the jewels on his person
satisfied me that the child was the adopted son of the late Rajah, and
the rejected heir to the little throne of Jhansi. He was rather a pretty
child, but very short for his, years and broad-shouldered - like most
of the Mahratta children that I have seen.
Whilst
I was speaking to the child, a shrill and discordant voice issued from
behind the purdah, and I was informed that the boy was the Maharajah,
who had just been despoiled of his rights by the Governor-General of
India. I fancied that the voice was that of some very old woman - some
slave or enthusiastic retainer, perhaps; but the child having imagined
that he was spoken to, replied, "Maharanee!" and thus I was told the
error of my conclusion.
And
now the Ranee, having invited me to come closer to the purdah, began to
pour forth her grievances; and, whenever she paused, the women by whom
she was surrounded, set up a sort of chorus - a series of melancholy
ejaculations - such as " Woe is me!" " What oppression!" It reminded me
somewhat of a scene in a Greek tragedy - comical as was the situation.
I
had heard from the vakeel that the Ranee was a very handsome woman, of
about six or seven and twenty years of age, and I was very curious
indeed to get a glimpse of her; and whether it was by accident, or by
design on the Ranee's part, I know not, my curiosity was gratified. The
curtain was drawn aside by the little boy, and I had a good view of the
lady. It was only for a moment, it is true still I saw her sufficiently
to be able to describe her. She was a woman of about the middle size -
rather stout, but not too stout. Her face must have been very handsome
when she was younger, and even now had many charms - though, according
to my idea of beauty, it was too round. The expression also was very
good, and very intelligent. The eyes were particularly fine, and the
nose very delicately shaped. She was not very fair, though she was far
from black. She had no ornaments, strange to say, upon her person,
except a pair of gold ear-rings. Her dress was a plain white muslin, so
fine in texture, and drawn about her in such a way, and so tightly, that
the outline of her figure was plainly discernible - and a remarkably
fine figure she had. What spoilt her was her voice, which was something
between a whine and a croak. When the purdah was drawn aside, she was,
or affected to be, very much annoyed; I but, presently she laughed, and
good-humouredly expressed a hope that, a sight of her had not lessened
my sympathy with her sufferings nor prejudiced her cause.
"On
the contrary," I replied, "if the Governor-General could only be as
fortunate as I have been and for even so brief a while, I feel quite
sure that he would at once give Jhansi back again to be ruled by its
beautiful Queen."
She
repaid this compliment, and the next ten minutes were devoted to an
interchange of such matters. I told her that the whole world resounded
with the praises of her beauty and the greatness of her intellect; and
she told me that there was not a corner of the earth in which prayers
for my welfare remained unsaid.
We
then returned to the point - her "case." I informed her, that the
Governor-General had no power to restore the country, and recognise the
claim of the adopted son, without a reference to England, and that the
most prudent course for her to adopt would be to petition the throne,
and meanwhile draw the pension of 6000l. a year, under protest that it
was not to prejudice the right of the adopted son.
At first she refused to do this, and rather energetically exclaimed: "Mera Jhansi nahin dengee" (I will not give up my Jhansi).
I
then pointed out to her, as delicately as possible, how futile would be
any opposition; and told her, what was the truth, that a wing of a
native regiment and some artillery were within three marches of the
palace; and I further impressed upon her that the slightest opposition
to its advance would destroy her every hope, and, in short, jeopardize
her liberty. I did this because she gave me to understand - and so did
her attorney (and my impression is that they spoke the trutb) - that the
people of Jhansi did not wish to be handed over to the East India
Company's rule.
It
was past two o'clock that night before I left the palace; and ere I
took my departure, I had talked the lady into my way of thinking, except
that she would not consent to draw any pension from the British
Government.
On
the following day I returned to Gwalior, en route to Agra. The Ranee
presented me with an elephant, a camel, an Arab, a pair of greyhounds of
great swiftness, a quantity of silks and stuffs (the production of
Jhansi), and a pair of Indian shawls. I accepted these things with great
reluctance, but the financial minister entreated me to take them,
insomuch as it would wound the Ranee's feelings if I refused. The Ranee
also presented me with a portrait of herself, taken by a native, a
Hindoo.
The
state of Jhansi was not restored to the rule of the Ranee, and we know
that she afterwards rivalled that fiend Nana Sahib, whose "grievance"
was identical with her own. The Government would not recognise Nana
Sahib as the adopted son and heir or the Peishwah; the Ranee of Jhansi
sought to be recognised as the Regent during the minority of the late
Rajah's adopted son and heir."
Aftermath:
John
Lang was ruthlessly persecuted by British establishment for taking side
of Indians in various court cases. He was even sentenced to
imprisonment. Incidentally, in 1857, when the revolt broke out, John
Lang was in England. Sadly, when he returned to India in 1859, most of
his Indian as well as British friends had died in the revolt, including
Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi. John Lang continued to be the editor of the
newspaper The Mofussilite. He wrote the book "Wanderings in India" in 1861 describing his various experiences in India including Jhansi. He
died in Mussoorie in 1964 and is buried there. However, he will always
be remembers for revealing to the world, Rani lakshmibai of Jhansi's
famous words "Main Meri Jhansi Nahi Doongi"
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