The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1875-12-18 00:00:00

'THE NATIVE SPORTS AT BARODA."

The Special Correspondent of the Daily News has sent a
very interesting deQcription of the "Native Sports at Baroda,"
under date the 21st ult., from which we make the following
extracts :

At length the Prince of Wales has escaped from the
wearying conventionality of B embay, from State visits,
receptions, and formality eenerally. He has been for
two days in the capital of the Gaekwars, and each day
has furnished for him a spectacle of novelty and inte-
rest. At eight in the morning of Friday, the 19th, the
Royal train reached the Baroda station, on a sofa on
the platform of which the boy Gaekwar had been sit-
ting for an hour and more waiting to receive his distin-
guished guest. Along with the Gaekwar were his
Prime Minister, Sir Madava Rao, and the British resi-
dent, air. Melvill. Mr. Melvill has just succeeded Sir
Richard Meade in the position of Resident at
Baroda, and although Sir Richard Meade has re-
verted in a sense to tliat position, in so far as
he accompanies the Prince, and takes a leading
part in the intercourse bezween hire and the Gaekwar.
. . To me this boy Gaekwar presents a subject of
endless interest and amused bewilderment. He looks
about ten or twelve, the age at which an English boy
is most awkward, uncouth, and addicted to tumbling
over his own abnormally'developed feet. Only a few
months ago he was a poor boy in an obscure village, of
a family, I have been told, occasionally pinched for the
commonest necessaries of life. His practical acquaint-
ance with clothing did iaot extend beyond the primitive
dhotie, the life before him was that of the ploddieg
cultivator of a few beegahs of miserable land. Suddenly
there came for him a grand transformation scene. The
village boy, through carefully genealogical inquiries was
discovered to be collaterally the nearest heir to the dis-
graced and deposed Gaekwar. He was taken from
his village with all honour, adopted by the Ranee,
placed with elaborate ceremonial on the gudaee—in
other words, raised to the throne of Baroda • the
nobles and state dignitaries owned the village Coy as
their master, and bowed down before him, the British
residens did him honour • the gold and silver guns of
Baroda were his; the Chains, collars, aigrettes, and
aiguillettes of gems, fabulous in their value, were
the indefeasible if incidental appanages of the youth
before whom a month before there lay a future of
sordid toil. No freak of fiction could be imagined
stranger than the amazing revolution in this child's
lot. And how does he comport himself under
conditions which must be so bewilderingly novel
to him, that it is hard to believe he does not con-
sider the present one long wild dream? Is he
shy, scared; do the clods of his obscure village
and the associations of his old life cling to and hamper
him? On the contrary, it is as if for him a wet sponge
had been passed over the past. The boy is as com-
posed and even apathetic in his new position as if he
had been borne into the purple. He accepts homage
with a languid placidity of condescension; he negli-
gently patronises Government Secretaries and self im-
portant Residents, apparently regarding all such per-
sons as having been expressly created to contribute to
his convenience • he has fallen naturally, and with
genuine gracefulness, into a tone of perfect equality,
and frank, boyish cordiality, wonderfully well blended
with dignity, in his intercourse with the Prince of
Wales.
The two sat, conversing on the sofa, while mem-
bers of the suite were being elevated to the howdahs
of stupendous, and fantastically painted, and brilliantly
caparisoned elephants, sixteen of which had been
waiting in the station yard—in the midst of a
strange medley of soldiery in wondrous uniforms, and
looking funnily like supers in a theatre—to convey the
party from the station to the Residency. Of course
there had been a Royal salute from the Gaekwar's
artillery, and a "present arms" by a guard ofehonour
of the Gaekwar's picked troops. The Gaekwar has
artillerymen clothed from head to foot in brilliant
scarlet, each man meriting that appellation of
" Blazes " which Mr. Weller bestowed on his brother
footman at the memorable "swarry ;" Hussars
in green, Dragoons in blue Lancers in mulberry, and
foot soldiers who look as if the dead stock in hand of
the famous "rainbow ribbon" had been utilised to
make uniforms for them. At a signal the Prince and
the Gaekwar emerged f;rom the station, the former
leading the latter by ,the hand, and the Prime
Minister, Sir Madava Rao, following, Outside there
knelt a huge elepha-it, painted in diverse colours and
patterns, from the crown of his head to the tip of his
trunk and the broad splay soles of his fore feet. Rich
trappings of cloth of gold, elaborately embroidered,
hung over the huge beast and swept the ground.
On his back was a gracefully-shaped howdah of
gold. In the front seat of this, facing toward
the animal's head, the Prince and the Gaekwar took
their seats, the Prince on the right, the Gaekwar on
the left; Sir Madava Rao got up behind Regi-
mental bands played what may be styled "regular
music," native instrumentalists clashed out their
extremely irregular and discordant strains ; the popu-
lace cheered, the cannon banged, horses reared and
stood on their hind legs, and the procession swung
ponderously into slow and stately motion, and went
winding on under triumphal arches, along umbrageous
avenues, through much tinsel of decoration, until
having skirted a portion of the native town, it reached
the Residency.
The afternoon of Friday was devoted to the spectacle
of serio-comic combats between animals—we can hardly
call them wild beasts—in an arena constructed for the
purpose in the immediate vicinity of one of the palaces
of the Gaekwar. . . . Just outside the arena we came
casually oil what I suppose may be called the menagerie
—an open stied, into which there is free acc,ss from the
street—indeed, there is what seems to me a thm ough-
fare through it. The incautious wayfarer who, in the
darkness, drifted—as he might easily do—into this open
pandemonium, would find himself, to put it mildly, in
a highly unpleasant situation. Entering carelessly in
ignorance of the arrangements, or rather want of ar-
raegeit cut of the place, I recoiled with considerable pre-
eitntation as a huge tiger made a pring at me to the
end of his chain, just as you see a watchdog make a
dash at a vagrant. The brute was f istened to an up-
right by a chain attached to a po verful collar round
.ins neck, and there was a second fastening of strong
'rope girthing his loins; but he was bee to move
within the radius of these tethers, and very swiftly
he knew how to move. Under the same roof, fastened
in a similar manner, there lay sullenly prostrate on
the hot sand a couple mere there, which languidly
raised their heads, and, blinking owlishly, growled
sulkily in an undertone of echo to the roar of
'their more alert companion. To a post in a
corner was fastened a -huge, but namehats, [Catty-
war lion, tawny, grim, muscular, licking the sand from
his hot lips as he lay panting. In another shed are
yet two fiercer tigers, huge glaring demons, the very
incarnations of unquenchable ferocity. One is under a
sort of massive hen coop, fastened down with collar,
chains, and ropes around loins; but in spite of his
trammels, he is pawing up the sand all over his body,

whi;e he plainly quivers in the throes of furious '
impatience. A little distance from him is a strong,
small cage only just large enough to hold the beast, is 1
a ti,er so fierce and malign, that he is lashed down
and chained so effectually that he cannot move a limb.
You may see the great muscles working under the
skin tentatively but impotently; his tail waves to and
fro; his crest and throat are turgid with passion,
his lurid eye flashes balefully; low muttered growlings
roll over the foam.flecked lips. "A very bad brute,"
remarks the native keeper in broken Erglish—a worse
brute, a more utterly malignant and fiendishly fierce
devil in brute form, not the most vivid nightmare
ever conjured up. 13eyond these, in another compart-
ment, are the cheetahs or hunting leopsrds, daintily
speckled, sleek, smooth and lissome—tame, seemingly,
as house cats, yet slyly treacherous, for feline nature
never utterly belies itself, and the snap and snarl
with which one turns on the hand that would stroke
it proves its innate ferocity. This curious menagerie
is obviously a place of public resort; men smoke
lazily, women stand gossipping in groups around the
wild beasts. .

From the menagerie into the arena s but a few steps,
and as we enter the open gateway there lies before us
a coup d'ceil of singular interest and novelty. The
spacious parallelogram is enclosed within lofty white
walls, pierced with arches, some of which lead to the
stables and dens; others, smaller, are mere escape
holes. In the centre of the parallelogram is a circular
erection used alro as a refuge p' = All around the
arena, on the summit of the white walls, is a bright
belting of colour, where the spectators have gathered
on the elevated platforms.. . . On one corner of the
parellelogram abutted the battlement walls of one
of the Gaekwar's palaces, and from its face project
the state balconies, whence the Court and its re-
tainers witness the sports and combats. To-day the
lower and paincipal balcony is assigned to the
Prince and his suite, the G-aekwar, and his sirdars ;
thessecond to the European ladies of the station; and
the third to officers, journalists, Ace. The ladies of the
Gaekwar's family and household look down upon the
scene from behind the screens or tattles hanging in
windows cut in the face of the palace wall. In front
of the balcony is a square space laid with soft sand for
wrestling, around which have squatted on the ground
the connoisseurs of that athletic sport, waiting the
signal for its commencement. The area of the arena
is dotted all over with professional athletes—spear-
men, fellows corresponding to the picadors, the
matadors, and the banderillosof the Spanish bull-ring,
elephant keepers and mahouts, f use-carriers, and so forth.
Under the wall, along the long face of the parallelo-
gram opposite the "grand stand," are ranged in mas-
sive line four-and-twenty huge elephants, their fronts
fantastically painted, their backs and sides swathed in
rich trappings, their tusks embossed with gold. Apart,
at opposite ends of the arena, are the two fighting
elephants, secured with massive chains around the
hind legs. Both are huge brutes; no trappings bedeck
them; on their foreheads is no painted emblazonment.
They sway impatiently to and fro. they beat the ground
with angry fore-foot, with restless trunks they con-
tinually throw backward and upward showers of sand
on their corrugated hides. We are told that they are
unquestionably "must," and as they stand here
isolated, they certainly present all the indications
whereby the must elephant may be discerned. One
notes the exudation from the holes above the eyes, the
fretfulness of the whole system the irritability which
precludes repose. But the elephant genuinely must is
a rampant, furious devil incarnate; these brutes as
the sequel proved, were but sham demons. I have
known a must elephant kill his mahout, desolate a
camp, tear down tent-poles and trees, wreck a native
village to the last hut, and strike wild terror for a
week's time into a whole district. The Gaekwar's
"fighting elephants," if " must " at all, were " must '
in the mildest and most sucking-dove fashion.
We hear a flourish of trumpets and a burst of cheer-
ing. There dashee into the arena a peleton of blue
lancers, followed by a train of carriages. There is
from the throng a simultaneous cry of "Salaam, mera
bap, Salaam" (Hail, mighty father, hail) as the Prince
alights and is conducted by the Gaekwar to the fore-
front of the Sate balcony. Immediately, on the
sand below, the wrestling begins. Half-a-dozen
couples are at it together. It certainly is not Cum-
berland fashion—this Baroda wrestling, neither
can it be said to be Cornish fashion, but re-
sembles rather a bastard Lancashire style, in which
the niceties of science and skill are not leading fea-
tures. There is no "dodging for the hold ;" we see
nothing of "cross bettockers, ' or crafty "inside
knipes." The two wrestlers, holding their bodies as far
away from each other as possible, clutch each other by
the raised and projected handa, and then if they can,
get to closer quarters with a grip of head, shoulder,
neck, or throat. They are brawny, muscular fellows,
and hard to throw in their suppleness, for they wriggle
like eels out of hand gripes; they "go to grass"
together in a seemingly inextricable Contortion, and
they wriggle and struggle on the ground, the lower
man clinging face down to the earth like a
limpet lest he be turned helplessly turtle-
fashion on his back, the uppermost athlete straining
every nerve so as to turn over his antagonist that the
two shoulders of the latter are on the ground simul-
taneously, the accomplishment of which feat is the
goal of the struggle. Only one bout was thus brought
to a termination in the presence of the Prince; the
others assumed the character of deadlocks, and to all
appearance the competitors might have been struggling
until the going down of the sun, but for the signal to
desist.
Now the gateways have been barred with massive
beams. The police peons. after clearing the arena,
are scuttling swiftly, with many demonstrations of
terror, into the manholes. The chains are loosed from
the legs of the two "fighting elephants," and these
slowly advance to meeteach other, goaded by men with
javelins, enticed by picadors dangling red scarves be-
fore each. Some of the latter appear recklessly bold,
and run, or seem to run narrow escapes, as the huge
beast, with raised trunk, comes charging at them.
Now the two elephants closely confront each other,
and their tusks clash together with a mighty
bicker. Their trunks interlace into a twisted
knot, their loins strain as they push against each
other for the mastery, their flanks heave, and the
muscles stand out under the thick hides. Weight tells
at first, and the bigger, lighter-coleured brute bears
back the less massive, darker-hued elephant; but the
smaller one has greater gameness, and constantly con-
fronts his weightier antagonist. The latter ignobly
"cuts it," and, turning his pachydermatous back
round, seems in a supine, languid fashion to bid his
opponent "take his change out of that." The combat
now degenerates into a farce; the smaller animal
keeps butting fitfully into the great rump of the
other, who sluggishly declines the fray, and sustains
phlegmatically a good deal of punching against the
barricade and walls from the blunt tusks of the
animal which, for form's sake, must, I suppose,
be called his antagonist. It is obvious that
the fight is a sham, and so the fuse-bearers
advance and flare up, The elephants clearly
understand, and act with alacrity on this signal that
they need sham to fight no more. The big fellow
stands fast among the smoke, for he is already at his
own end of the arena; the smaller chap scuttles off in
ludicrously clumsy haste to his own corner. Again,
however, they are induced to renew the semblage of is
struggle, and there is some aimless butting with fore-
heads, clashing of tusks, and intertwining of trunks.
But it is so evident that the brutes underst .nd each
other, that in the language of the P. R , the fight is a
"cross," and the farce grows tedious, and is ended by
the attachment first of clamps and then of ropes round
the hind legs of the lazy combatants, the blazing and
smoke of the fuses, and the final tying up of the un-
scathed imposters.
These removed, a third elephant, a huge, dun-hided
rogue, is brought in at one portal, while through the
other there caracoles gaily a smart horseman, on a
handsome grey horse, powerfully bitted, and well back
on his haunches. The horseman rides very short, and
his styls of equitation reminds one forcibly of the
French munege, although his seat is freer and supple than
obtains there. He, circling and capering, approacues
the elephant, which, after facing him for a time, makes
a sudden rush, and his trunk is on the horse's croup,
and all hut clutches the rider, before the speed of
the Arab tells and carries horse and man out of
reach. Quick as lightning the horseman is round
again, capering teasingly around the elephant, whose
rushes in quick succession' and what certainly seems a
succession of hairbreadth essapes on the part of the
rider, keep on the strain the interest of the spectators.
The courage of both rider and horse are undeniable
the former is a finished horseman both as to hand and
seat, and the latter obeys with beautiful alacrity of
dexterity the slightest hint from wrist or leg. Over
and over again the rider's life seems not worth a
second's purchase, as the elephant's trunk brushes his
shoulder, but supple dexterity pulls him through,
and the foiled elephant at length lapses into sullen
apathy.
Way there for the rhinoceros, his thick hide lying
on his back in flaccid folds—that hide of which it is
written that "the sword of him that layeth at it
cannot hold the spear, the dart, nor the haber-
goon." The patriarch asks, " Canst t,:ou bind the
unicorn with his band in the furrow?. . . Canst thou
put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaws through
with a thorn?" A modern Job visiting Baroda could
scarcely venture to ask these questions as illustrations
of impossibilities, for the rhinoceros, as we see him
brought into the arena here, has a great bit in the
mouth of him and massive chains round his
throat and legs. The huge ugly monster comes for-
ward hobbling, and as he comes he routs along the
ground with that vicious solitary horn on his snout.
Another rhinoceros follows, scarcely so big, but rather
uglier, moving with a curious high action, and routing
with a longer horn. The two are loosened, save for the
chain hobbles on their forelegs, and they sluggishly
approach each other and begin to butt and bore at
each other with their horns. There is much fierce
grunting, and great straining. Neither has much
stomach for the fray, and the shert struggle ends in
the incontinent and cowardly bolting of the larger
shorter-horned brute with clumsy bounds and frisks,
obvious "funk," and profuse gruntings. A secord time
the two are brought to the match; a second time does
the impostor shun the prolongation of the duel.
Water is thrown on the thick hides of the brutes, ap-
parently to encourage them to fight; but with tl e
grotesque result that both clumsily but precipitately
bolt in opposite directions. The "pigs" won't fight,
and no amount of jobbing with spears will make them
take kindly to the fray. After much grotesque
floundering all about the arena they are ordered off in
disgrace.
Buffalees succeed behemoth ; genuine wild buffaloes
if tee Hkl/4111;ly jungle—brutes that among their native
bulrushes will fear,essly face the tiger himself. One is
black and sleek, the other dun and roueh. There is no
Out stion about their ardour for the battle; with strain-
ing sinew they rush to the encounter. At the first
cash the dun loses a horn close to the scalp. The
agony must be horrible ; the blood streams from
the raw pith on to the sand, but the fightit4
demon is rampant in the dun, and he battles
madly on. But he cannot sustain the unequal
contest long, and it is a relief from the sickening
spectacle when he wheels, Red, dashing blindly
against the barricade, half staggers, half crouches
under it, and is lost sight of as, mad with pain and
terror, he rushes out in the (pen, the scared populace
flying wildly from his infuriated track. A fresh pair
take the field, and crash together, head against head,
with a terrible impetus. They lock together, they
struggle and strain amidst a whirlwind of sand, till at
length, with a mighty heave, the smaller one throws
the latter clean on to his back, and strives hard to rip

open with his hr n the stomach of his prostrate anta-
gonist. But that they are parted, straining fiercely
at each ether as they are dragged away, this struggle
would have been unto the death. A series of combats
between rams ensue. These dash furiously against
each other—forehead clashing on forehead—till the
arena rings again with the sound of the impacts. The
spectacle, which was perhaps unduly prolonged, and
which was barbarous in so far as the combats were
serious, and somewhat childish as well as barbarous in
so far as they were make-belief, concluded with a
promenade of black-bucks and nhil-gbaies, harnessed
into cars, and a trumpery show of parrots and cockEt-
toys displayed in cages by bearers ranged in a semi-
circle in front of the Royal balco4. . . .