CAPTAIN TAYLOR ' S CONFESSIONS OF A THUG.

BET ten years have scarcely passed since the strange tale was fully believed, or judicially investigated, yet English readers are in general pretty well aware by this time, that the Thugs, or Pining- gars, are a caste of robbers spread over the whole of India, who, traversing the country in gangs, associate with travellers, to plunder them, murder by strangulation invariably preceding robbery. Formed into a religious system—regarding themselves as in- struments in the hands of Fate—guiding their conduct by omens, emanating as they conceive from Davy their divinity, and saving or destroying as she seems to direct—the 'thugs neither consider their profession as criminal nor look back upon It with remorse. The practitioners who have been pardoned by the Company, on condition of becoming approvers, narrate their crones without feeling, discuss the principles of their death-dealing re- ligion as coolly as if it were a question of science, and recur to old

times with the glee of a veteran campaigner in the fields of Mars or Diana.

The author of the work before us indicates that he has been engaged in the efforts which the Indian Government, at last under- took for the detection and suppression of Thuggee. The object of his book is to present a living picture of its practice, and of the characters and adventures of its practitioners : the form which he has adopted is indicated by the title, Confessions of a Thug; an approver, called AMBER Am, giving an account of his life, from his boyhood till his final arrest. The private characters of the Thugs at home (for many arc said to be amiable people, apart from their profession which they conceal from their women and their uninitiated neighbours)—the varieties of disposition in the gang—the arts by which they allure travellers—the means by which they despatch them—and the ever-changing scenes which occur in such a life of adventure—are not the only subjects of the story. A1EER ALI is described as a gentleman in manners, an Adonis in form, and a hero in conduct. The necessities of that branch of his practice which consists in alluring victims, and the vicis- situdes of a Thug's life, bring him into contact with the higher classes of natives, and furnish a natural opportunity for descriptions of their customs : his person and bearing attract

the eye of women, and allow a slight sketch of Oriental intrigue : his stirring spirit and his courage induce him to join an outbreak of Pindharries, which permits a picture of freebooting war, and of the character and martial accomplishments of the warriors.

Captain 'Amon states in his Introduction, that "almost all his book] is true ; what there is of fiction being supplied only to con- nect the events, and make the adventures of Anteer Ali as in- teresting as the nature of his horrible profession would permit." This seems very questionable. \%e suspect that he has made a selection of the most striking confessions of the approvers, and animated them by dramatic action and discourse, derived in part perhaps from the viva rove narratives of the original actors; hut that many of the incidents descriptive of Indian character, life, and manners, though drawn from reality, have no relation to the actual life of AMEER ; whilst a few of the earlier scenes are not exactly in accordance with the principles of Thuggee. The main story, however, has a general consistency, springing from truth; or Captain TAY LOR has a higher degree of structural art than we are inclined to give hint credit for ; the incidents being well connected, and the punishments of the Thug the consequences of his Thuggee. The death of his innocent wife— the eternal separation from his little daughter—the unconscious murder of his sister by his own hand—the loss of his tbrtune amid the ruin of his house—not to speak of his expulsion from the Pindharrie band, or of his later miseries when imprisoned or hunted through the country—are not the result of accident, but naturally flow from A MEER'S crimes.

• But whether the fiction he much or little, the substance of the book shows a knowledge of the subjects it treats of, and we have no doubt conveys a true enough picture of Oriental life and charac- ter, timing a sort of Indian Gil Bias of blood. Phrases " sup- plied" by the Captain for untranslatable or forgotten terms, might doubtless be picked out ; and there are turgid or heavy passages, arising from an ambition to be oratorical, or from too literal a mi- nuteuess. These, however, a critical revision would lessen or re- move. The physical character of the crimes, and the revolting feel- ing against so many murders, is an inseparable evil. But though quite enough of it, there is less than might be imagined. The Thugs "are not cruel;" they never sited blood it' they can avoid it ; and arc, moreover, very pleasant fellows in their:way—" they can smile, and murder while they smile." To Europeans, familiar with regular roads, public conveyances and houses of reception, an efficient and responsible police—in most countries a system of passports, and in all the various results of an enlightened civilization, which regards the protection of lith as the first duty of society—it appears impossible that such a system of wholesale murder could ever have been carried on. Captain TAYLOR, in his Introduction, judiciously provides fin. the credibility of his talc, by pointing out the NATIONAL. FACILITIES FOR TneocEE.

Ina vast continent like India, which from the earliest periods has been por- tioned out into territories, the possessions of many princes and chieftains— each with supreme and irresponsible power in his own dominions, having a Most lax and Inefficient government, and at enmity with or jealous of alibis neighbours—it any be CO 11 CC semi that no security could exi:t for the travellsr Ulan the principal 'roads throughout the continent ; no general league was ever entered nito for his security ; nor could any government, however vigorous, or system of police, however vigilant it might be in one state, possibly extend to all.

When it is also considered flint no public conveyances have ever existed in India, (time want of roads, and the habits and customs of the natives is jug alike opposed to their use,)—that journies, however long, have to be undertaken on foot or on horseback—that pm rties, pry v MI Sly 1111k116W11 to each other, leso- elate together for mutual security and eompanionship—that even the principal roads (except those constructed for military purposes by the Company's Go- vernment) are only tracks made by the constant passage of people over them, often intersecting forests, jungles, and mountainous and uncultivated tracts, where there are limit fin,' villages and a scanty population—and that there are never any habitations between the different viilagvs, which are often some miles apart—it will readily be allowed that every temptation and opportunity exist for

plunderers of alt descriptions to make travellers their prey. • * _ Travellers seldom hold any communication with the towns through which they pass, more titan for the purchase of the day's provisions; they sonnet Imes enter them, but pitch their tents or lie under the trees which sarround them : °gain any intelligence of a person's progress from village to village is, there-

fore, almost inn wssible ,st facilities of disguise mong thieves and Thu • 1' divisions .gs exist the endless divismns of the people into tribes, castes, and pro- fessions; and remittances to an immense amount are known to be constantly made from one part of the country to another, in gold and silver, to save the rate of exchange; jewels also and precious stones are often sent to distant parts under the charge of persons who purposely assume a mean and wretched appearance, and every one is obliged to carry money upon his person for the daily expenses of travelling. It is also next to impossible to conceal any thing carried, from the unlimited powers of search possessed by the officers of cus- toms in the territories of native princes, or to guard against the information thew subordinates may supply to Thugs, or robbers of any description.

WORKINGS OF TIIUGGEE.

Similar to the preceding, as showing the daring character of the Thuggee operations, was the fact that, at the cantonment of Ilingolee, the leader of the Thugs of that district, Ilurree Singh, was a respectable merchant of the place, one with whom I myself, in common with many others, have had dealings. On one occasion he applied to the officer in civil charge of the district, Captain Reynolds, for a pass to bring smite cloths from Bombay, which he knew were on their way, accompanied by their owner, a merchant of a town not far from Ilingolee. Fie murdered this person, his attendants, and cattle-drivers, brought the merchandise up to Ilingolee under the pass he had obtained, and sold it openly in the cantonment ; nor would this have ever been discovered, had he not confessed it after his apprehension, and gloried in it as a good joke. By this intim too, and his gang, many persons were murdered in the very bazaar (1' the cantonment, within one hundred yards of the main guard, and were buried hardly five hundred yards limn the line of sentries! I was myself present at the opening of several of the unblessed graves, (each con- taining several bodies,) which were pointed out by the approvers, one by one,

in the coolest manner, to those who were assembled, till we were sickened and gave up further search in disgust. The place was the dry channel of a small water-course, communicat big with the river, not broader or deeper than a ditch; it was close to the road to a neighbouring village, one of the main outlets from the cantonment to the country.

As isolated accounts of murder, without the context of' the story, are not the utmost cheerful kind of reading, we will tfhly take one passage of this kind, but one sufficiently comprehensive to in- clude both death and burial.

AMEER ALI'S FIRST AFI'AIR.

The men were silently warned to be at their posts; and each man, or two

men, as it was necessary, placed himself dose to the one to whom he had been assigned. By designed obstructions in front, the bullocks belonging to the Saboukar, with their attendants, were brought immediately about the cart in which he rode, and the whole being gathered into one place, were the easier to be secured. The preparations again roused me, and I grasped the handkerchief firmly, thinking every moment that the signal was about to be made ; but we still crept on at a slow pace, for the road was narrow and lined by thorny bushes ; and the melt in front proceeding as slowly as possible, Ave were kept exactly in our proper place, and expected every moment to reach the spot.

As we approached the small hills, the jungle became pretty thick, anti ap- peared doubly so by the moonlight ; and we passed many places where 1 thought the deed might have been done with advantage. But I was wrong ; for the laighaes had selected an admirable one. A man came from the front, whispered a few words to my father, and again

went on : this increased my anxiety. We crossed a small hollow, ascended a bank, and below us I saw what I was sure was the place. The banks of the rivulet were high and steep, covered with thick underwood matted by trailing creepers. A b..w higher trees nearly met over its tied, in which coal be just discerned a small thread of water, looking like a silver snake as the moon's rays fell on it through the dark foliage. A. hundred thieves might lie there, thought I ; and who could ever know the fate of a traveller who might so easily he surprised in such a spot? I was roused from my train of thought by my father, as he called oat " itooshiaree!" (caution.) This was time preparatory signal. He went to the side of the cart, and represented to the Sahoukar that we had reached the stream, and that the bank was so steep and the bed so stony that he must get out and walk over to the other side, if no further. This was quite sufficient : the man got out, and after seeing the cart safely down the steep bank, was pre- paring to thllow himself'.

The whole scene is now before me. The bullocks and their drivers, with the Thugs, were all in a conflised group in the bed of the little stream, the men shouting and urging on their beasts; but it was easy to sec that every man had a Thug dose to him awaiting the signal. They were only a few feet below us; and the stream was so narrow that it wins with sonic diliculty all could stand in its bed, especially when the cart reached the bottom. Above, stood any fitther, lloosein, and myself, the Sahoukar, one of his servants, and several other Thugs. 1 was eagerly waiting the signal; I tightly grasped the fatal handkerchief,

and Inv first victim was within a foot of me. I went behind him as being pre- ferable.to one side, and observed one of the other Thugs do the same to a ser- vant. The Sahoukar moved it step or two towards the road ; I instinctively followed him ; I scarcely fidt tied I stirred, so intensely was I observing him. " Jcy Kalee!" shouted my father : it was the signal, and 1 obeyed it. As quick as thought time cloth was round his neck—I seemed endued with su- perhuman strength—I wrenched his neck round—he struggled convulsively for an instant, and tell. I did not quit my hold; 1 knelt down on him, and strained the cloth till any hand ached : but he moved not—he was dead. I quitted my hold and started to my feet : I was mad with excitement—my blood boiled, and I felt as though 1 could have strangled a hundred others; so easy, so simple had the reality been. One turn of my wrists had placed me on an v with those who had followed the profession for years: I had taken the first phi's in the enterprise, for I had killed the principal victim. I should re- ceive the praise of the whole band ; many of whom, I was confident, had looked on me as only it child.

I was roused from tny reverie by my father.

" You have (loam well," he said, in a low and kind voice ; " you will receive the reward of this soon : now follow me—we will go to the grave. Ere this the bodies have been collected ; and I myself must see that they are properly dis- posed of. There will be a noise about this business, anal it will need great ex- ertion for us to get out of the road we arc now travelling." 1 fidlowed him. We descended into the bed of the stream, and were led to the grave by one of the men ; others bearing the body of the Sahoukar fol- lowed. W.e passed up the bed of the stream for a short distance ; and near the mouth of a small nulla, the bed of which was dry, a number of the men were standing.

" The grave ?" asked my father. " It is up there," said one; "you will have to creep, and the thorns are very bad."

It matters not," lie replied; and we entered the place.

The banks of the rivulet were perhaps two or three yards high, and the bed into so narrow that but two persons could advance abreast. The creepers and trees were matted overhead, and the sides so thick that it was impossible that any one could have got down from above. Time tangled character of the spot increased as we proceeded, until it became necessary to free our clothes from the thorns which caught us at every step. In a few moments we heard the

sound of voices ; and after creeping almost on all fours through a hole which had apparently been forced through the underwood, we came upon the grave. There was only one ; it occupied almost the entire breadth of the stream ; it was very deep, and the earth, or rather sand, had been thrown out on each end. The Lughaes were sitting there, sharpening stakes cut from the jungle; but they could scarcely be seen from the darkness of the place, which the thick wood above only partially allowed the moonbeams to penetrate. They were Conversing in a low tone in the slang of the band, which I had not learned : my father spoke to them, or rather to their leader. " You have had your wits about you," he said ; " and we will think well of you when we make the distribution : this is a grave that even a jackal could not discover. Again I say, Peer Khan, you have done this properly ; and it is well I have seen it, that I may speak of you as you deserve : but you must be quick, the night advances."

The following is the account of a native dramatic entertainment, played before a Nabob at whose court Amer, in the course of his travels, had occasion to present himself as a soldier of fortune. The contrivance, the incidents, and the manners, seem to mark it as an indigenous production; but be it what it may, or whose it may, it is humorous in itself, and presents a view of life of universal truth and application. •

THE SIX AGES OF A NABOB (" SCHOOL " OMITTED.)

They [the mimes] were three in number ; and twisting their faces into comical expressions, so as to cause the whole assembly to burst into a simul- taneous fit of laughter, one of them stepped forward and said, that in the country whence he came there was once a Nuwab, a very wise man, who go- verned his country as no one had done before, and was a lord victorious in war ; and that, if' the Hoozoor pleased, his slaves were prepared to relate some of his adventures.

" Go on '7 said the Nuwab, "we are attending ; sec that there is nothing indecent, for you are in the presence of the Kleminn." " Asteffirralla!" (God forbid I) cried all, making their salutation towards the screen ; "may the favour of the Khanum be upon us, and may Alla give her a long life and posterity to bless her. Inslialla! we shall find ffivour in her sight, and take away our garments filled with gold." They commenced : one of the men, dressed ridiculously as a child, .perso- natedlhe Nuwab. The story begins with his youth ; how he is petted in the zenana; and the two others changing their dresses to those of females, one is his mother, the other his nurse. The young Nuwab is pampered, Roiled, becomes unruly, is declared to be possessed by the Staten: a Mould( is called in, and charms and wonderful potions, prepared by the aid of magic, are administered. The great child screams and roars, kicks his mother and nurse out of the assembly, upsets all about him ; and the confusion and noise created by all this, especially among the Tuwaifs, made a scene of fun at which we till laughed heartily.

In an incredibly short time the men again made their appearance, and the second act began. The child had grown up to be a youth, and to be fiery and uncontrollable. Women, wine, horses, and arms arc his enjoyments : reckless of every thing, he plunges into dissipation, sets his parents at defiance, runs into debt, is surrounded by sharpers and parasites, who despoil him of all lie possesses, and lie has given himself up to harlots and debauchery : and this ends the second part.

His father dies—he is now Nuwab: he is the head of a proud house, has men and soldiers at his command, and his territory to manage. He forthwith kicks out his former companions, discards every one he had formerly had near him, good and bad together, and gives himself up to a new set of rogues who had preyed upon his father—men with hoary beards, only the greater adepts in villany. He has a quarrel with a neighbouring noble, and the two prepare for war.

The troops are described; how they eat mountains and drink rivers ; and the Nuwab himself as going forth like a bridegroom to meet his bride ; like the lightning from the thuuder-cloud, or a river overrunning its bounds, terrible, irresistible, before whose glance men quail as before a lion. His fiorse and arms ; the former large of carcase, small of limb, feet large and broad, fleet as the antelope, courageous as the panther • of the arms, the sword which, wielded by his father, had cut through a bulfalo's skin mud divided the thickest quilting. He goes forth, and the fight commences : the horse charge, and the Nuwab and Ins enemy meet (each is mounted on the back of a man). They fight ; sword after sword (made of wood) is splintered. One of the horses is killed : it is the Nuwab's. He too is killed ; he is at the mercy of his foe. No, he is up again ; the fight is renewed ; it is long doubtful : fresh weapons are given by attendants; at last he is victorious. Alla Akbar h the victory is won, the enemy is routed. Then follows the torture of the prisoners, the rifling of the zenana. There is one slave, beautiful, small, delicate hi form, an eye like the gazelle's, fair as the beauties of Room or the fabled ones of England. She fiats at his feet : he is captivated. She conquers, and the Nike is performed. They live happily for some time ; but the fame of' the beauty of the daughter of a neighbour reaches him. His soul is on fire ; his former love is neglected. He proposes marriage ; it is accepted; the bride comes home, and a deadly jealousy ensues between the rival wives. The quarrels of the zenana are described ; and by the shrieks of laughter from behind the screen, it was easy to believe how natu- rally all had been described and acted. The Nuwab has reached middle age ; he is now a father of a family, a respectable man, a religious man, surrounded by Moolahs, who flatter him, and have usurped the places of his former companions. Ile is as debauched as ever, but it is not known. He passes for a just and good man, and his durbar is described, and his judgment. What was Solomon compared with him ? or 'Intim Tai ? or Lokinan the wise? And at each enumeration of his virtues the assembly loudly applauded, and directed their looks to the real Nuwab, who sat as the spectator.

Again the Nuwab is shown, old and decrepid, worn nit by disease, sur- rounded by quacks, from whom he demands nostrums to make him young and

vigorous. His zenana is fuller titan ever of women, who flatter his vanity, tell him he is as young as ever he was, and yet are false to him. But he has a son, who promises to excel his father, who is a Mejnoon in form, a Roostum in valour, before whom his father's enemies are scattered like chaff from the grain before the wind.

The old Nuwab is growing more and more decrepid and querulous. His fancies and longings are described in a most laughable manner ; and as the final event approaches, lie sinks into his eternal sleep, sure of the seventy Houris of Paradise, and the eternal youth, which is the portion of true believers.