Tags: Maharajahs, Devadasis (Temple dancers), Interracial romance, Hindu religious practices, Animal sacrifice

This novel contains an account of animal sacrifice in Hinduism in Kerala that may be distorted and offensive to Hindus today. (One significant problem being that the author refers to Hindu deities as "devils"...) Animal sacirifce has been common in a number of Hindu sects for centuries, as described here. It is not exactly clear which version of South Indian Hinduism is being represented in Penny's novel.

F.E. Penny's second novel, The Romance of a Nautch Girl, is a colonial-era narrative unfolding in the Tinnevelly district of South India (today, Kerala), specifically within the town and British cantonment of Chengalem. The story follows the tensions between the British community and the local Indian population, centered on Dr. Felix Manning, a dedicated Civil Surgeon, and his younger brother, William "Will" Manning.

The Cultural Landscape of Chengalem

The town of Chengalem is depicted as a place inhabited largely by ryots (cultivators) and toddy-drawers.

Chengalem was a town inhabited chiefly by ryots and toddy-drawers. On one side of it was the English cantonment, where the European community lived. On the other side of the town, standing apart from it, was the temple. A little distance further on there was a dispensary, which was supported by the Zemindar for the benefit of his ryots or cultivators. Once a year the Zemindar went up to Madras, and lived in state for a few weeks, like a small rajah, with a numerous following of poor relations and servants. He showed himself on all public occasions, and brought himself before the notice of the powers that be, by making a munificent donation to one of the public charities. The wife of his Excellency was in consequence gracious, and the Zemindar, flattered and ambitious for honours in the future, eagerly fell in with her schemes of philanthropy.

The landscape is defined by its parched cotton soil, palmyra trees, and casuarina needles. Local life revolves around two powerful institutions: the Zemindar’s house and the Hindu temple. The Zemindar, a local landowner, maintains a lavish zenana (women’s quarters) and supports a dispensary to flatter British philanthropic sensibilities while adhering to traditional social structures:

The dispensary was the outcome of several personal interviews, which were extremely gratifying to the Zemindar’s vanity. Quarterly reports of the dispensary and its work were sent in to the great lady, with a letter written by the Zemindar himself in flowery language. She replied graciously, under the impression that she was elevating the native mind. She honestly thought him a good man, kind to his dependents, regular in the performance of his social duties, an ornament to the society in which he moved. She had never seen him anywhere excepting in Madras, and she took him as she thought she found him. After all it was best so; it is a mistake to lift the purdah too high. We cannot understand, we cannot reform, the growth of long ages in one short life-time. We may reckon ourselves happy if we can believe, like her excellent Excellency, that we are making an impression for good on the surface of the inscrutable Hindu nature.

A central figure in the local religious life is Deva, a dasi (nautch girl) and "wife of the gods" attached to the temple. Deva, who was married to the tree-devil in the banyan tope as a child, is an educated woman skilled in Sanskrit, singing, and dance.

Deva belonged to the class of women known as dasies, who are attached to Hindu temples. They are the wives of the gods, and their profession is dancing amongst other things. At an early age they are married to the idol in the temple; or to some demon supposed to haunt a particular tree. Deva was the wife of the devil in the big banyan tree in the tope. Years ago she had been wedded to it with a ceremony and ritual, that, at the time, filled her with awe, and made a lasting impression on her young mind. She still remembered with a shudder how her bridegroom, the devil, howled his approval during the pooja, and mingled his hoarse voice with the tomtoms and the horns. The heavy chains hanging from the branches clashed, and the foliage rustled, as he shook the whole tree, stem and branch, in his pleasure.

After her marriage—she was only seven years at the time—her education was continued in the temple. She learnt to read with the other dasies, and studied Sanskrit, in which language the dancing-girls usually sing. She was taught to dance and pose and sing. She was initiated into the secrets of the Oriental toilette, and shown how to touch the lip and eyebrow with skilful hand; how to keep the skin soft and fine; how to heighten its tones with golden tints by the use of saffron and sandalwood.

At the age of twelve Deva went into the zenana of a Hindu rajah. The temple coffers were enriched by a large contribution of money; and the idol was afterwards presented with rice, butter and honey, periodically. Deva became the plaything of the zenana.

Her daughter, Minachee, follows in her footsteps and is initially under the Zemindar’s protection. The sources emphasize that these women are "highly educated in an Oriental sense," moving with a "queen-like grace" that commands both respect and fear.

The Mystery of William Manning

The plot is set in motion when William Manning, an idle and impulsive youth, becomes entangled with Minachee while simultaneously pursuing Beryl Holdsworth, the daughter of a British engineer. Felix learns about the attachment when he reads through William's diary after the young man's disappearance: 

The year began with the gaieties of the Christmas holidays, and Beryl’s name appeared frequently. He had danced so many times with her, and had played tennis with her. Then came another name, which the Major did not at first recognise. “Minnie? Minnie?” he exclaimed. “Now, who is Minnie? Why, Minachee, the dancing-girl, of course.”

His interest was increasing. It was evident that Will had met her frequently between Christmas and the present time, and it was generally in the tope on her way to or from the temple. Then came a record of gifts bestowed upon her, and her delight at receiving them. They were not expensive, and were mostly European trinkets, such as Minachee had no means of buying herself; Parisian trifles were not to be found in the bazaar of Chengalem.
[...] 
“All the fat is in the fire,” wrote Will. “Felix saw me in the tope to-day with Minnie. Natural consequence, a regular flare-up! I knew it must come, but he did not begin it till after dinner. No use telling him that the girl did not care two straws for me, and that our acquaintance is on the most friendly and harmless footing. In reality, the little minx is in love with some one else; I could see it to-day, but I guessed it some time ago. I wonder if he suspects it. He is such a dark horse, I never quite know what is in his mind; but I did know his opinion of me last night, for he took pains not to leave me in any doubt. I am sorry to have to record the fact, but I lost my temper completely, and I think he did the same, only he has more control over himself than I have. It was the injustice of the accusation that made me so angry. And he not only pitched into me about Minnie, but he also let me have it about the devil-dance. Confound him! what business is it of his where I go and whom I meet?”

Will’s fascination with Indian culture leads him to attend a devil-dance [animal sacrifice puja] in the banyan tope, a "forest in itself" characterized by an enormous hollow trunk and sacred devil-stones smeared with red pigment:

A devil-dance of South India is a terrible affair. The unbeliever may smile, but there is no other word for it; it is a terrible affair. The matter seethes for weeks and months in the minds of the people; and an under-current of excitement, the outcome of superstitious awe, grows and increases, till it reaches fever height. It culminates in a mad orgy, wherein religious fanaticism in its worst form is mingled with eating and drinking to excess.The ryots and toddy drawers of Chengalem had been wrought up to fever point; and a night was fixed for the dance, when the moon was new. For several previous evenings tomtoms were beaten, horns were blown, and processions were made through the streets. One or two women saw the demon in the form of a large solitary wolf, with flaming eyes and lolling tongue. This was a good omen and boded well. It indicated that the swami was pleased with the coming tamasha.

[...]

The lads drove up the goats, herding them together in a space set apart for the sacrificial beasts at the back of the tope. The frightened animals added their bleating to the din, and occasionally a buffalo-cow bellowed out her disquietude. The men blew horns and drummed with their fingers on the tomtoms just as their fancy seized them. The shrill voices of the children and howling of the pariah dogs completed the hubbub of the night.A large circular space was kept clear before the banyan. There was no need to tell the people not to press forward—they were too fearful of the spirit to venture beneath the branches; nor would they willingly have gone behind the tree on the opposite side of the stone, where the trunk was hollow. The devil was supposed to pass in and out that way. It was also the path along which the beasts would by-and-by be driven up for sacrifice.

Deva was present; she wore a fine white muslin cloth, and she had gold ornaments in her hair. A thick garland of oleander and jasmin flowers adorned her neck. She no longer moved amongst the people, but stood under the tree itself, its priestess and presiding genius for the night. Several poojaries were there, although only one would perform the ceremonies, and a little knot of dasies, chiefly as spectators. They moved about amongst the people, but Minachee was not with them.An hour or so afterwards the business of the evening began in real earnest. By this time all the company had come, and being hungry, they were clamouring for the pooja to commence. Large cressets of oil with a floating cotton wick were lighted; also a fire was made to the left of the stone. A pot of butter was placed on the burning sticks by a poojari, who stirred the grease as it melted. The spectators stood in a wide circle, and gradually ceased their chatter as the ritual proceeded.

An elderly man came forward, naked to the waist. He had marked himself on forehead and breast in sacred ashes with the swami marks of the caste. He took the smoking oily butter from the pot with a brass ladle, and poured it upon the devil-stone. The crowd, silent and observant, cast fearful glances at the tree. At any moment now an awful manifestation of the devil might be made.A young man came from behind, leading a goat into the clear space, midway between the assembly and the tree. It was his offering, which he presented on behalf of himself and his family.Deva stepped forward, bearing in her hands a sword, which she gave to the poojari. She was followed by an attendant, carrying a brass basin of water. She dipped her hands in it and sprinkled the head of the goat. The poojari, holding the sword aloft, ready to strike, watched the animal intently; it did not stir. A second time Deva cast the water upon it from her cupped palms, and the goat shook its head. The sword flashed in the yellow light of the cressets; the head was severed in one blow, and the bleeding body fell to the ground, where it lay in a crimson pool.

The dasi picked up the head, and held it over the devil-stone, so that the blood dripped down upon it. As she did so the assembly called aloud to their gods, the tomtoms beat and the horns blared. Rice, camphor, fruit and sugar were brought, and set out on green leaves with the head of the goat before the stone. The people made a low obeisance, and the owner of the goat carried away the carcase to be divided between himself and the poojaries. Another goat was brought, and the same ritual was performed. Deva sprinkling the water, and afterwards lifting the bleeding head above the stone, so that the life-blood might drip upon it. Again fruit, rice, sugar, camphor were brought, and as they were offered with the ghastly trophy the people shouted again.

Following the night of the devil-dance, William mysteriously disappears. Dr. Felix Manning, who understands the local language and character thoroughly, grows increasingly anxious, especially after he encounters Minachee and Deva, who provide conflicting and cryptic information about Will’s whereabouts. Major Brett, the Superintendent of Police, initiates a search but remains suspicious of Felix, noting the Doctor’s "cursed jargon of the natives" and his deep familiarity with local customs.

The Ritual of the Devil-Dance

The "devil-dance" [Puja involving animal sacrifice] of South India is described as a "terrible affair" of religious fanaticism and superstitious awe (see passage quoted above). The ceremony involves the sacrifice of goats, where heads are severed and the blood is dripped upon the devil-stone to appease a malignant spirit. The participants, described as "possessed," fall into frenzied contortions, foaming at the mouth and tearing their hair to the rhythmic beat of tomtoms and the blare of horns.

It is later revealed that Beryl and Felix were also present at the dance, hiding in the hollow of the banyan tree to watch. Beryl confesses to Major Brett that Will had leaped from the tree in a panic after hearing a snake, while she and Felix remained hidden through the night as the "awful priestess" (Deva) danced below. This confession clears Felix of suspicion, as he had been protecting Beryl's reputation.

Conflict and Retribution in the Zenana

The story’s climax is driven by Deva’s jealousy. When the Zemindar replaces Minachee with a younger dasi from the north, Deva is dismissed from his household. In a vengeful rage, Deva attacks the new girl, blinding her with red pepper and attempting to stab her, only to be thwarted by Minachee, who saves the child.

Deva is captured and imprisoned by the Zemindar in a bare room. In an act of traditional, secret justice, a cobra is introduced into her cell through a wall recess. Deva dies from the serpent's bite, but not before her possession of William’s blood-stained dress clothes is discovered, confirming his fate.

The Discovery in the Banyan Tope

Based on clues provided by the Zemindar, Major Brett and Felix return to the sacred banyan tope. They focus on an aloe plant that was recently and unnaturally replanted near the sacrificial area. Upon digging, they find the body of a sacrificial buffalo; however, beneath the carcass, they discover the remains of William Manning. He had been murdered by fanatics during the frenzy of the devil-dance and hidden within the animal’s body to avoid detection.

Conclusion: Cultural Divergence

The novel concludes with a sense of cultural separation. Felix Manning and Beryl Holdsworth eventually marry and move to England, seeking to escape the "sad memories" of Chengalem. Felix attempts to "rescue" Minachee by placing her with a mission in Palamcotta, but the dasi ultimately flees back to the temple. She rejects the "strange restraints" of the British and returns to the "drumming of the tomtom," finding her identity within the ancient, inscrutable traditions of the temple. The source reflects the 19th-century colonial view that while the two cultures touch, they "do not understand" one another:

There remains little more to add to this story of the intertwining of a few Anglo-Indian lives with the lives of a few Hindus. The intertwining was but a touching; there was ho intermingling. The Hindu with his strange creed and code of morals must ever be an inscrutable being to the Briton; and the Briton with his strange philanthropy is equally incomprehensible to the Hindus. They touch and feel, see and hear, but they do not understand; so says the European after thirty years’ residence and work in the country to the youth of six months’ service. The youth, be it noted, usually receives the statement with an incredulous smile. “How is it,” he asks himself, “that the old Anglo-Indian knows less than I have learnt in six months?” The answer comes when he in his turn retires in his old age.