The Camel Merchant of Philadelphia

by Sarbpreet Singh

  There certainly seemed to be something odd about the close relationship between Hira Singh and Maharaja Ranjit Singh.

  George Carmichael Smyth, in his book, suggests that Hira Singh’s own father, Dhian Singh intrigued to insinuate Hira Singh into the Maharaja’s affections at the expense of the heir apparent Kunwar Kharak Singh, who was generally dismissed as an imbecile and even Kunwar Sher Singh, whose very legitimacy and parentage were the subject of constant speculation in court.

  Regardless of how Hira Singh got close to the Maharaja, his constantly being by the ageing Maharaja’s side is an undisputed fact, commented on by multiple observers. According to Smyth, Kharak Singh and Sher Singh, the Maharaja’s sons, were seldom allowed to remain at or near court. Kharak Singh, the heir apparent, was particularly kept away and both princes were sent on meaningless missions to frontier provinces. In the meantime, attention was lavished upon Hira Singh and he was treated like a favoured child. The Maharaja could not bear to be separated from him even for a moment, unable to rest or sleep if the lad wasn’t by his side. The king would not ride in his royal palanquin unless Hira Singh accompanied him and on the rare occasions that he wasn’t with him, he would become irritable and anxious.

  Ranjit Singh was ailing at the time of Macnaghten’s mission to Lahore. Within a year of the visit, so colourfully described by Captain Osborne, the Maharaja was dead. Colonel Steinbach, an officer in Ranjit Singh’s army, was also present at the Maharaja’s funeral and writes about the events that transpired subsequently. The following account is from his memoirs titled The Punjaub; being a brief account of the country of the Sikhs:

  From the death of the Maharajah Runjeet Singh may be dated the commencement of the scenes of anarchy and confusion which to this moment have existed in the Punjaub. For some months previous to his demise, from his extreme debility and loss of speech from paralysis, public business had been almost entirely neglected, the revenue misapplied, and order or method nearly annihilated.

  Aware that the end was near, Ranjit Singh ordered all his principal officers and courtiers, both Punjabi and European, to his bedside and asked them to swear an oath of allegiance to the heir apparent, Kunwar Kharak Singh. Fakir Syed Waheeduddin, a descendant of Fakir Azizuddin, the Maharaja’s physician and chief diplomat, writes in his book, The Real Ranjit Singh, that the Maharaja, upon the Fakir’s advice, also named Dhian Singh, the Dogra Prime Minister, to serve under Kharak Singh. A proclamation to the effect was read after a review of the Durbar troops by Kunwar Kharak Singh and Raja Dhian Singh.

  Ranjit Singh was reputed to have amassed treasure worth approximately eight million pounds sterling. Fabulous gifts were bestowed upon holy men and the poor in the form of horses, fine clothes, jewels and money, with large donations going to various temples and gurdwaras. The celebrated Kohinoor diamond was bequeathed upon the Hindu temple of Jagannath in faraway Orissa by the Maharaja.

  According to Colonel Steinbach, who was present at Ranjit Singh’s cremation, all the Sikh Sardars assembled to pay homage to the fallen king. The king’s body was laid on a gilded chariot fashioned like a ship with sails of gilt and it solemnly made its way to the cremation site, the way to which was lined with infantrymen. The procession was led by a group of minstrels, possibly singing Gurbani shabads. Four of his queens, who had decided to mount the funeral pyre of their lord, followed, carried in golden palanquins, with seven young women in attendance. Before each queen was carried a gilt mirror so that each queen could satisfy herself that there was not a trace of fear on her face. A barefoot Maharaja Kharak Singh followed, clad in white and then came all the Sikh Sardars.

  Until the very last minute, the queens remained perfectly calm; far from exhibiting any trace of fear at the terrible fate which awaited them, they appeared excited and willingly climbed the funeral pile with no hesitation. The Maharaja Kharak Singh then recited a short prayer and set fire to the pile, which instantly burst into flame. The noise of the drums being beaten and the shouts of the spectators completely drowned the screams of the queens and their slaves as they burned.

  More drama was to unfold. In Steinbach’s words:

  It was with some difficulty that the Rajah Dhian Singh Dogra was prevented from throwing himself into the flames. Considerable doubt has been thrown over the sincerity of this intended act of self-devotion; but the general opinion was that he fully intended it from the apparent absence of any motive for hypocrisy.

  Raja Dhian Singh Dogra, much vilified by historians as a traitor and an ingrate, was so distraught at the death of his monarch that he made several attempts to burn himself on the king’s funeral pyre!

  Fakir Waheeduddin, drawing upon his family chronicles, also talks about the incident and corroborates the account.

  After the death of the Maharaja, Raja Dhian Singh Dogra went to the imperial harem to reassure all the queens and concubines that their interests would be taken care of. Rani Haridevi somewhat tauntingly reminded him of his vow to always remain by the stirrup of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, implying that he had abandoned him upon his death. Already devastated by the death of his master, Dhian Singh Dogra betrayed no emotion but was deeply hurt. The following day at the time of the cremation, Dhian Singh Dogra, much to everyone’s astonishment arrived in fine robes covered with ornaments and declared that he was going to keep his vow and immolate himself with the Maharaja. Kharak Singh and other courtiers, knowing how important Dhian Singh was to the the governance of the empire and fearful of the chaos that his death would cause, entreated him to desist and threw their turbans down at his feet. Scholars were sought to dissuade him by reiterating that the scriptures did not permit ministers to participate in the ritual of Sati when a king died! Dhian Singh Dogra, however, remained adamant. Finally, Maharani Guddan decided to intervene and haughtily commanded Dhian Singh Dogra to stop and forced him to commit to serve Maharaja Kharak Singh for at least a year, after which he would be free to retire and leave on a pilgrimage if he so desired. Only after Dhian Singh Dogra signed a document to this effect, did she let the funeral proceed.

  As Maharani Guddan prepared to embrace her fate, the last thing she did was to send for Maharaja Kharak Singh and Raja Dhian Singh Dogra. She asked Dhian Singh Dogra to place his head on the dead Maharaja’s chest and swear fealty to the new king. She similarly made Kharak Singh swear that he would not oppose or dismiss Dhian Singh Dogra, who would continue to serve as Prime Minister. It was only after that that Kharak Singh lit the funeral pyre.

  What kind of man was Raja Dhian Singh then? An ambitious, wily plotter, who was biding his time before he would betray the heirs of the monarch who had transformed him from a common cavalryman into the ‘King of Kings’? A cynical and Machiavellian schemer, who staged an insincere attempt to take his own life on the death of his sovereign to prove his loyalty? Or an utterly loyal servant of the man who had given him everything, the pain of whose death he could not bear?

  Alas, we will never know!

  It does seem highly unlikely that the polished, courtly, restrained and even taciturn Prime Minister would have been able to make such a spectacle of himself, if he had not been truly overcome by emotion. The other thing to remember is that Dhian Singh Dogra was by all accounts a valiant Rajput, well known for his personal bravery and gallantry. If the chronicles of the Fakir family are accurate, it is not a stretch to imagine that Rani Hardevi’s taunt may indeed have goaded him into trying to immolate himself.

  The king was now dead.

  A new king now sat on the throne of Lahore and by his side stood the man who had faithfully served his father for decades. Raja Dhian Singh Dogra had sworn fealty to Maharaja Kharak Singh at least twice; once at Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s behest, as he lay dying and the second time at the urging of his dead king’s wife, as she was about to end her own life on her husband’s funeral pyre.

  The succession of Kharak Singh to the throne had been remarkably smooth. He had been accepted by all the Sikh Sardars as well as the all-important generals
of the Durbar, both Punjabi and foreign-born. Most importantly, he had Dhian Singh Dogra and by extension, the might of all the Dogra brothers behind him. It seemed that the future of Punjab and the Sukherchakia dynasty was secure, despite the death of the old lion.

  Fate, however, had other plans.

  By all accounts Maharaja Kharak Singh was ill-suited to govern his late father’s empire and hold it together. Unkind observers have described him as being weak of intellect, indolent and a debauchee. Whether he was all that or not, he was no Ranjit Singh for sure and proved to be incapable of dealing with the various factions that started jockeying for power almost immediately following his succession.

  The most powerful of these was the Dogra faction. In Lieutenant Colonel Steinbach’s words, ‘their paramount influence over public affairs, added to their prodigious wealth, enabled them almost to hold the destinies of the Punjab in their own hands’. But he also mentions that they were more feared than liked, and looked upon with great jealousy by the other Sardars. Another interesting snippet concerns their mutual correspondence which, according to Steinbach used a secret code known only to the brothers.

  Such was the power and prominence of the Dogras that they aroused the envy of all the other players in the court, the most notable being Chet Singh Bajwa, who was Maharaja Kharak Singh’s confidential advisor and related to his wife, Rani Chand Kaur. Allied with Chet Singh Bajwa was Misr Beli Ram, who was in charge of the Toshakhana or the royal treasury. Misr Beli Ram had served Ranjit Singh throughout his reign as had his uncle, Basti Ram, before him, and was a powerful courtier. Chet Singh Bajwa had his eye on the plum position of Prime Minister, which he felt was within his reach, given how close he was to the new Maharaja. A third important courtier, secretly allied with Chet Singh Bajwa and Misr Beli Ram, was Jemadar Khushal Singh, who, years ago had been supplanted as the Lord Chamberlain by the young Dhian Singh Dogra.

  The powerful troika was successful in neutralising the power and influence of Raja Dhian Singh Dogra. Even though he was nominally Prime Minister, he found himself in the unfamiliar position of being powerless and ineffectual.

  Dhian Singh Dogra now sought a powerful ally and decided to act.

  Kunwar Naunihal Singh, Maharaja Kharak Singh’s son, was cut from a very different cloth. A natural leader, he seemed to possess the charisma and vision that his grandfather, Ranjit Singh, had been known for. He was an ambitious young man who, being acutely aware of the considerable limitations of his father, was anxious to attain the throne of Lahore for himself. In fact, Kunwar Naunihal Singh had been away at Peshawar when his father ascended to the throne after his grandfather’s death. In 1833, at the tender age of thirteen, he had led a successful campaign to recapture Peshawar from the Afghans and had been appointed governor of the region.

  Chet Singh Bajwa, in the meantime, had not been sitting idly. He reached out to General Ventura, an Italian General who had commanded Ranjit Singh’s Campo Franceesee (French Legion), trying to exploit the ill-feeling that already existed between Ventura and Raja Dhian Singh Dogra.

  Colonel Alexander Gardner describes a confrontation between the two powerful courtiers in his memoirs:

  By the 8th October things had reached such a pitch that the murder of the whole Dogra family had been decided on, and Chet Singh was rash enough to say in durbar to Dhian Singh, ‘See what will become of you in twenty-four hours.’ Raja Dhian Singh, who was a man of inflexible resolution and imperturbable serenity of demeanour, smiled politely and replied, ‘Your humble servant, sir; we shall see.’

  A rumour now began to circulate that Maharaja Kharak Singh and Chet Singh Bajwa had formed a secret alliance with the British, under the terms of which three-eighths of the revenue of Punjab would be ceded to the British, who would become the guarantors of Kharak Singh’s rule. Further it was rumoured that the Lahore army would be disbanded and that the Sikh Sardars would be stripped of their estates.

  Raja Dhian Singh Dogra planned his next move meticulously. He went to the zenana (the ladies’ quarters), having been granted access by virtue of his position to confer with Rani Chand Kaur, who was a highly intelligent and resourceful woman. Raja Dhian Singh easily convinced the Rani that her husband, who was universally regarded as weak and incompetent, had all but ceded power to Chet Singh Bajwa, who was intent on reducing the Sukerchakia family to mere pawns. Raja Dhian Singh made the case for installing Kunwar Naunihal Singh on the throne, a notion that the Kunwar’s mother, Chand Kaur, was very supportive of. Naunihal Singh’s wife, Shaib Kaur, daughter of the powerful Sardar Sham Singh Attariwala was summoned to the conclave and easily won over as well. Kunwar Naunihal Singh, who had returned from Peshawar, joined the confabulation and it was agreed by the royal family that there was nobody more loyal to them than the Dogras. A deal was struck. Chet Singh Bajwa would be done away with and Maharaja Kharak Singh would be forced to retire from public life. Kunwar Naunihal Singh would rule as regent, with the staunch support of Raja Dhian Singh Dogra.

  The next step was to get the support of the French Legion and the Sikh Sardars, most notably, the powerful Sandhawalia clan. Chet Singh Bajwa had already reached out to both General Ventura and the Sandhawalias to form an alliance with them against Raja Dhian Singh Dogra, who he claimed had designs on the throne of Lahore. However, when Raja Dhian Singh approached them with his plan to install Kunwar Naunihal Singh as the next Maharaja, all their doubts about the loyalty of the Dogras vanished and they threw their support behind the plan.

  It was now time for action.

  It was 9 October, 1839.

  Dhian Singh Dogra, firmly in command of the army, issued an order. No matter what happened inside the fort and the royal chambers, the guards were to feign sleep and not react at all. A party of fifteen, which included the three Dogra brothers, Prince Naunihal Singh, Alexander Gardner, the Sandhawalias and two courtiers, Rao Lal Singh and Rao Kesar Singh, slipped into the palace, the doors to which had been left unlocked by a couple of women in the harem.

  It was near midnight when they entered the palace, and harem attendants who had been bribed by the Dogras kept opening all the locked doors in their path after they had provided pre-arranged passwords. As they neared the royal bedchamber, they were unexpectedly challenged by a guard, whom the impetuous Suchet Singh Dogra immediately shot dead. His older brother, Gulab Singh Dogra, swore at him and cuffed him for his recklesness. Palace guards who were patrolling outside rushed towards them when they heard the report, but Dhian Singh Dogra revealed himself and put a finger to his lips. The guards, who had already been coached, immediately vanished, leaving the conspirators unmolested.

  The band finally reached the royal bedchamber. The room was still lit and the door was ajar. Maharaja Kharak Singh was brushing his teeth, preparing for bed and the second bed, where Chet Singh Bajwa slept, was empty. When asked about the whereabouts of his closest advisor, the Maharaja replied that he had gone out on hearing a shot. By then the Maharaja had an inkling that trouble was afoot, possibly from the fierce expressions on the faces of the Dogras and he begged that his favourite be spared. He would have raised an alarm had his son Naunihal Singh and the other courtiers in the band not restrained him.

  Torches were lit and the rest of the band started going form room to room, searching for their target. Finally, they entered a long and narrow chamber that seemed empty. The eagle-eyed Lal Singh, however, saw what seemed to be a glittering sword in the far corner and there they found the cowering Chet Singh Bajwa, sword in hand. The Dogra brothers circled around Chet Singh, wary of his sword as they were armed with daggers. Gulab Singh wanted to be the first to attack, fearing that his brother Dhian Singh, who was shorter, would be easy prey for Chet Singh, armed as he was with a long blade. Dhian Singh. However, shook his older brother off and sprang upon Chet Singh Bajwa, dagger in hand and swiftly disembowelled him exclaiming, ‘Take this in memory of Maharaja Ranjit Singh.’ Dhian Singh then turned around to his face his band, looking very content and courteously tha
nked them for their help.

  To avoid being perceived as rebels in any way, the band then prostrated itself before Maharaja Kharak Singh and then Prince Naunihal Singh, who had been trying to pacify his enraged father. The Maharaja was finally placated at the intervention of his wife Maharani Chand Kaur and the other ladies of the royal harem. The band, its work done, quietly dissipated. No tears were spilled in the memory of Chet Singh Bajwa.

  More accounts remained to be settled. Misr Beli Ram and other members of his family were imprisoned. Jemadar Khushal Singh, realising that he had bet on the wrong horse, quietly departed for his estates. Maharaja Kharak Singh was confined to his chambers, and the rule of Naunihal Singh began in earnest.

  Dhian Singh Dogra had won, but his victory was a pyrrhic one. Naunihal Singh had a mind of his own and surrounded himself with his own entourage of favourite advisors and courtiers. Chet Singh Bajwa had been thwarted but once again Raja Dhian Singh Dogra found himself sidelined as Naunuhal Singh had clearly no intention of letting him wield the kind of power that he was used to wielding under his grandfather. Naunihal Singh was close to Raja Hira Singh, Dhian Singh’s son and Udham Singh, Raja Gulab Singh Dogra’s son, was his constant companion. Raja Dhian Singh managed to retain a modicum of influence through the relationship between his son and his nephew and Naunihal Singh, but it seemed that his glory days in the court of Lahore had passed.

  Majaraja Kharak Singh, in the meantime, was wasting away. Ill and neglected, he passed away on 5 November, 1840. It is said that his son, Naunihal Singh visited him only once after he had been deposed. There were also persistent rumours that he had been slowly poisoned to death.