Not less thankful was Lord Canning, when tidings were brought to him at Calcutta that all had passed off quietly at Barrackpur He had sent one of his Aides-de-camp, Captain Baring, to witness the disbandment of the 19th, and to bring back to him, with all possible despatch, intelligence of the events of the morning. And now that good news had come, he telegraphed it at once to the Commander-in-Chief, and made it known throughout the city, to the intense relief of many frightened residents, who had anticipated a general rising of the Native troops, and the massacre of all the European inhabitants. For the moment, at least, the danger had passed; and a little breathing-time was permitted to Government. Now that the disbandment of the 19th had been effected, and the men were going quietly to their homes, there was leisure to think of the far greater crime of the 34th. The case of Manghal Pandi, who had cut down his officer, was one to raise no questionings. Nor, indeed, could there be much doubt about the Jamadar of the Guard, who had suffered such an outrage to be committed before his eyes. The former was tried by Court-martial on the 6th of April, and sentenced to be hanged; and on the 10th and 11th, the latter was tried, and sentenced to the same ignominious death. On the 8th, Manghal Pandi paid the penalty of his crime on the gallows, in the presence of all the troops, at Barrackpur. But although without loss of time the Jamadar was condemned to be hanged, the execution lagged behind the sentence in a manner that must have greatly marred the effect of the example. A legal difficulty arose, which, for a while, held retribution in restraint230, and the men of the Brigade began to think that
Government lacked the resolution to inflict condign punishment on the offender.
Nor was this the only apparent symptom of irresolution. The 34th had been more guilty than the 19th; but punishment had not overtaken it. The men still went about with their arms in their hands; and there was scarcely a European in Barrackpur who believed that he was safe from their violence. As officers returned at night from their regimental messes, they thought that their own Sipahis would fall upon them in the darkness, and social intercourse after nightfall between the ladies of the station was suspended231. All this was known and deplored; but it was felt, upon the other hand, that if there were evil in delay, there was evil also in any appearance of haste232. Mindful that the disaffection in the Sipahi regiments had its root in fear, and believing that any undue severity would increase their irritation, the Governor-General caused all the circumstances of the excitement of the 34th to be sifted to the bottom, and hoped thereby to elicit information
which might guide him to a right understanding of the matter. The regiment once disbanded, there would be no hope of further revelations. So all through the month of April their doom was unpronounced. Courts of Inquiry were being held for the purpose of ascertaining the general temper of the regiment. It appeared that for some time there had been a want of loyalty and good feeling in the 34th; that Native officers and Sipahis had been disrespectful in their manner towards their English officers; and altogether there had been such a lack of discipline, that the officers, when questioned, said that if the regiment had been ordered on service they would have had little faith in the fidelity of the great bulk of the soldiery. And at last an opinion was recorded to the effect that “the Sikhs and Musulmans of the 34th Regiment of Native Infantry were trustworthy soldiers of the State, but that the Hindus generally of that corps were not to be trusted.” So the Government took into deliberate consideration the disbandment of the Regiment, with the exception of those officers and soldiers who had been absent from Barrackpur at the time of the outrage of the 29th of March, or who had at any time made practical demonstration of their loyalty and fidelity to the State233.
But before judgment was pronounced and sentence executed, there had been much in other parts of the country to disturb the mind of the Governor-General. He was a man of hopeful nature, and a courageous heart that never suffered him to exaggerate the dangers of the Future, or to look gloomily at the situation of the Present; but it was plain that the little cloud which had arisen at the end of January, was now, in the early part of April, rapidly spreading itself over the entire firmament. Already the sound of the thunder had been heard
from distant stations beneath the shadow of the Himalayas, and it was little likely that, throughout the intervening country, there was a single cantonment by which the alarm had not been caught – a single Native regiment in which the new rifle and the greased cartridges were not subjects of excited discussion.
The Head-quarters of the Army were at that time at Ambalah, at the foot of the great hills, a thousand miles from Calcutta. ‘There General Anson, having Retrospect returned from his hasty visit to Calcutta, was. meditating a speedy retreat to Simla, when the unquiet spirit in the Native regiments forced itself upon his attention. This station was one of the Depots of Instruction, at which the use of the new rifle was taught to representative men from the different regiments in that part of the country. These men were picked soldiers, of more than common aptitude and intelligence, under some of the best Native officers in the service. The explanations of their instructors seemed to have disarmed their suspicions, and they attended their instruction parades without any sign of dissatisfaction. They had not advanced so far in their drill as to require to use the cartridges; and, indeed, the new ammunition had not yet been received from Mirath. But the Commander-in-Chief believed that the men were satisfied, until a circumstance occurred which loudly proclaimed, and ought to have struck home to him the conviction, that the great fear which had taken possession of men’s minds was too deeply seated to be eradicated by any single measure of the Government, and too widely spread to be removed by any local orders. What solace was there in the assurance that no cartridges lubricated with the obnoxious grease had been, or ever would be, issued to them, if the cartridge-paper used by them were unclean? and even if their own minds were cleansed of all foul suspicions, what did this avail, so long as their comrades in the several regiments to which they belonged believed them to be defiled, and were, therefore, casting them out from the brotherhood?
The 36th Regiment formed the escort of the Commander-in-Chief. There was a detachment from it in the Rifle Depot; and it happened that one day, at the end of the third week of March, two non-commissioned officers from this detachment visited the regimental camp, and were publicly taunted by a Subahdar with having become Christians. They carried back
this story to the Depot, and one of them, when he told it to Lieutenant Martineau, the Instructor, cried like a child in his presence, said that he was an outcast, and that the men of his regiment had refused to eat with him. A man of more than common quickness of intelligence and depth of thought, Martineau saw at once the terrible significance of this, and he pushed his inquiries further among the men of the Depot. The result left no doubt upon his mind, that in every detachment there was the same strong feeling of terror, lest having used the new greased cartridges, or having been suspected of using them, they should become outcasts from their regiments, and shunned by their brethren on returning to their own villages. This was no mere fancy. Already had the detachments found their intercourse with their regiments suspended. They had written letters to their distant comrades and received no answers; and now they asked, not without a great show of reason, “If a Subahdar in the Commander-in-Chief’s camp, and on duty as his personal escort, can taunt us with loss of caste, what kind of reception shall we meet on our return to our own corps? No reward that Government can offer us is any equivalent for being regarded as outcasts by our own comrades.” Plainly, then, it was Martineau’s duty to communicate all that he knew to the Commander-in-Chief, and being his duty, he was not a man to shrink from doing it. So he wrote at once to the Assistant-Adjutant-General, Septimus Becher, and told his story – privately in the first instance, but afterwards, at Becher’s suggestion, in an official letter. But already had the Commander-in-Chief learnt also from other sources the feeling of consternation that was pervading the minds of the men of the Depot. On the 19th of March the Subahdar had insulted the men of the detachment; on the 20th, Martineau wrote his first letter to Anson’s Staff; on the morning of the 23rd the Commander-in-Chief was to inspect the Rifle Depot; and on the previous evening a report reached him that the men of the detachments wished to speak to him, through their delegates, on parade. He determined, therefore, to take the initiative, and to address them. So, after the Inspection parade, he formed the detachments into a hollow square, and calling the Native officers to the front, within a short distance of his Staff, began his oration to the troops. He had not the advantage, which Hearsey enjoyed, of being able to address them fluently in their own language. But, if his discourse was therefore less
impressive, it was not less clear; for calling Martineau to his aid, Anson paused at the end of each brief sentence, heard it translated into Hindustani, and asked if the men understood its import. It was thus that he spoke to them:
“The Commander-in-Chief is desirous of taking this opportunity of addressing a few words to the Native officers assembled at this Depot, which has been formed for the instruction of the Army in the use of the new Rifle. The. Native officers have been selected for this duty on account of their superior intelligence upon all matters connected with the service to which they belong. The Commander-in-Chief feels satisfied, therefore, that they will exercise that intelligence, and employ the influence which their positions warrant him in supposing they possess, for the good of the men who are placed under their authority, and for the advantage of the Army generally. In no way can this be more beneficially proved than in disabusing their minds of any mistaken notion which they may have been led to entertain respecting the intentions and orders of the Government whom they have engaged to serve. The introduction of a better arm has rendered it necessary to adopt a different system of loading it, and an improved description of cartridge. The Commander-in-Chief finds that, on account of the appearance of the paper used for the cartridges, and of the material with which they are made up according to the patterns sent from England, objections have been raised to their use by Sipahis of various Religions and Castes, and that endeavours have been made to induce them to believe that it is the express object of the Government to subvert their Religion and to subject them to the loss of Caste on which they set so high a value.
“A moment’s calm reflection. must convince everyone how utterly groundless and how impossible it is that there can be the slightest shadow of truth in such a suspicion. In what manner or degree could the Government gain by such a proceeding? Can anyone explain what could be the object of it? The Commander-in-Chief is sure that all will allow that nothing has ever occurred to justify a suspicion that the Government ever wished to coerce the Natives of India in matters of Religion, or to interfere unnecessarily with their Customs, or even with the ceremonies which belong to their different Castes.
“The Commander-in-Chief regrets to hear that there have
been instances in the Army of the disbelief of the Sipahis in the assurances of their officers that they would not be required to use cartridges which were made of materials to which they could reasonably object, and that they have acted in a manner which must destroy all confidence in them as soldiers, whose first duty is obedience to the Government whom they serve, and to their superiors. The Government will know how to deal with such instances of insubordination, and the Commander-in-Chief does not hesitate to say that they should be visited with the severest punishment.
“But the object of the Commander-in-Chief is not to threaten, and he hopes that it is unnecessary even to point out to those whose breasts are decorated with proofs of gallantry and good service, what is their duty. He wishes simply to assure them, on the honour of a soldier like themselves, that it has never been, and never will be, the policy of the Government of this great country to coerce either those serving in the Army or the Natives of India in their religious feelings, or to interfere with the customs of their Castes. He trusts to the Native officers who are present here to make this known to their respective regiments, and to exert themselves in allaying the fears of those who may have been momentarily seduced from their duty by evil-disposed persons. He is satisfied that they will do everything in their power to prevent the shame which must fall upon all who are faithless to the colours under which they have sworn allegiance to the Government, and that they will prove themselves deserving of the high character which they have always hitherto maintained in this Army.”
The Native officers in front, who alone, perhaps, were enabled by their position to hear the address of the Chief, listened attentively and with a respectful demeanour to what was said; and when the parade was over, they expressed to Martineau, through the medium of three of their body acting as spokesmen, the high sense of the honour that had been done to them by the condescension of His Excellency in addressing them on parade. But they urged upon him that, although they did not themselves attribute to the Government any of the evil designs referred to in that address, it was true that for one man who disbelieved the story, there were ten thousand who believed it; that it was universally credited, not only in their regiments, but everywhere in their native villages; and that, therefore, although the men of the detachments were ready to a man to
use the cartridge when ordered, they desired to represent, for the paternal consideration of the Commander-in-Chief, the social consequences to themselves of military obedience. They would become outcasts forever, shunned by their comrades, and discarded by their families, and would thus suffer for their obedience the most terrible punishment that could he inflicted upon them upon this side of the grave234. Martineau promised to represent all this to the Commander-in-Chief; and he did so in an official letter, through the legitimate channel of the Adjutant-General’s office. The matter was weighing heavily on Anson’s mind. He saw clearly what the difficulty was. “I have no doubt,” he wrote on that day to the Governor-General, “that individually they (the men of the detachments) are content, and that their own minds will be set at rest; but it is the manner in which they will be received by their comrades, when they regain their regiments, that weighs upon my mind.” But what was to be done? To remove from their minds all fear of the greased cartridges was only to drive them upon an equal fear of the greased paper, which it was still more difficult to remove235. He had thought at one time of
breaking up the Depot, and sending back the detachments to their regiments, on the ground of the advanced state of the season; but this would only, he argued on reflection, be a cowardly staving-off of the question, so he determined merely to direct that the drill instruction should not proceed to the point of firing until a special report should have been received from Mirath on the subject of the suspected paper.
To Lord Canning, it appeared that any postponement of the target practice of the drill detachments would be a mistake.
It would be a concession to unreasonable fears, which would look like an admission that there was reason in them; so, having first telegraphed to Ambalah the substance of his letter, he wrote to General Anson, saying: “I gather that you are not decidedly in favour of this course, and certainly I am much opposed to it myself. The men, it seems, have no objection of their own to use the cartridges, but dread the taunts of their comrades after they have rejoined. These taunts will be founded, not on their having handled unclean grease, for against that the whole Army has been protected for many weeks past by the late orders, but upon suspicions respecting the paper. Now, although in the matter of grease the Government was in some degree in the wrong (not having taken all the precaution that might have been taken to exclude objectionable ingredients), in the matter of paper it is entirely in the right. There is nothing offensive to the Caste of the Sipahis in the paper; they have no pretence for saying so. The contrary has been proved; and if we give way upon this point I do not see where we can take our stand. It may be, as
you hope, that the detachments at Ambalah, being well-conditioned men, would not consider a compliance with their request as a giving way on the part of the Government, or as a victory on their own part. But I fear it would be so with their comrades in the regiments. When the detachments return to their Head-quarters, they would give an account of the concession they had obtained, which would inevitably, and not unreasonably, lead to the suspicion that the Government is doubtful of the right of its own case. It could hardly be otherwise; and if so, we should have increased our difficulties for hereafter – for I have no faith in this question dying away of itself during the idleness of the hot season, unless it is grappled with at once. I would, therefore, make the men proceed to use the cartridges at practice. It will be no violence to their own consciences, for they are satisfied that the paper is harmless; and it will, in my opinion, much more effectively pave the way towards bringing their several regiments to reason, whether the objections thereto felt are sincere or not, than any postponement. Moreover, I do not think that we can quite consistently take any other course after what has passed with the 19th Regiment; for, though the climax of their crime was taking up arms, the refusal of the cartridges has been declared to be the beginning of the offence. Neither do I like the thought of countenancing consultations and references between the men of a regiment upon matters in which they have nothing to do but to obey; and I fear that postponement would look like an acquiescence in such references.” So it was determined that there should be no cowardly postponement of the evil day, and the detachments in the Musketry Schools were ordered to proceed, under the new regulations, to the end of their course of instruction236.
Whilst this letter was making its way to the foot of the Hills, General Anson, whose health had been severely tried, and who
had long been looking anxiously towards the cool, fresh slopes of the Himalayas, betook himself hopefully to Simla. That paradise of invalids, he wrote to the Governor-General, was “looking beautiful, and the climate now quite perfect.” “I heartily wish,” he added, “that you were here to benefit by it.” But it was not a time for the enjoyment of Himalayan delights. At both ends of that long line of a thousand miles between the great Presidency town and the foot of the Hills there was that which, as the month advanced, must have sorely disquieted the minds of the civil and military chiefs. There was the great difficulty of the 34th to disturb both the Governor-General and the Commander-in-Chief; and as time advanced, there came from other parts of the country tidings which, if they did not help them to fathom causes, brought more plainly before them the probable consequences of this great panic in the Sipahi Army. Those significant fires, which had preluded the outbreak at Barrackpur, were breaking out at other stations. At Ambalah especially, in the middle of the month of April, they had become frequent and alarming. The detachments in the Musketry Schools were now proceeding steadily with their target practice. They dipped their own cartridges into a mixture of beeswax and ghee, and seemed to be fully convinced and assured that no foul play was intended against them. But they did not escape the taunts of their comrades; and the nightly fires indicated the general excitement among the Native soldiery. The European barracks, the commissariat store-houses, the hospital, and the huts in the Lines, night after night, burst out into mysterious conflagration. It was the belief at Head-Quarters that these fires, made easy by the dry thatched roofs of the buildings, were the work partly of the Sipahis of the regiments stationed there, and partly of those attached to the Musketry Depot. The former still looked askance at the latter, believing that they had been bought over by promises of promotion to use the obnoxious cartridges, and, as a mark of their indignation, set fire to the huts of the apostates in their absence at drill. Upon this the men of the Musketry School retaliated, by firing the Lines of the regimental Sipahis237. But the Courts
of Inquiry which were held to investigate the circumstances of these incendiary fires failed to elicit any positive information; for no one was willing to give evidence, and nothing was done to put pressure upon witnesses to reveal the knowledge which they possessed.
At this time Sir Henry Barnard, an officer of good repute, who had served with distinction in the Crimea, commanded the Sirhind Division of the Army, in which Ambalah was one of the chief stations. He was a man of high courage and activity, eager for service, and though be had not been many months in the country, he had begun to complain of the dreadful listlessness of Indian life, and the absence of that constant work and responsibility which, he said, had become a necessity to him. “Cannot you find some tough job to put me to? I will serve you faithfully.” Thus he wrote to Lord Canning in the last week of April, seeing nothing before him at that time but a retreat to Simla, “when the burning mania is over.” Little thought he then of the tough job in store for him – a job too tough for his steel, good as was the temper of it. The Commander-in-Chief wrote from Simla that Barnard was learning his work. “It will take him some time,” said Anson, “to understand the Native character and system.” And no reproach to him either238; for nothing was more beyond the ordinary comprehension of men, trained in schools of European warfare, than Sipahi character in its normal state, except its aberrations and eccentricities. Anson had been two years in India; but he confessed that what was passing at Ambalah sorely puzzled him. “Strange,” he wrote to Lord Canning, “that the incendiaries should never be detected. Everyone is on the alert there; but still no clue to trace the offenders.” And, again, at the end of the month, “We have not been able to detect any of the incendiaries at Ambalah. This appears to me extraordinary; but it shows how close the combination is among the miscreants who have recourse to this mode of revenging what they conceive to be their wrongs, and how great the
dread of retaliation to anyone who would dare to become an informer.” It showed, too, how little power we had of penetrating beneath the surface, and how great was the mistrust of the English throughout all classes of the Native soldiery. Let what might be the hatred and dissension among themselves, a common feeling still stronger closed their hearts and sealed their lips against their English officers.
Day after day this fact became more and more apparent. To the most observant of our people it seemed at first that, although the ministers and dependents of the deposed Muhammadan ruler of Oudh might have been insidiously employed in the corruption of our Native soldiery, the alarm, and therefore the discontent among the Sipahis, was for the most part an emanation of Hinduism. The inquiries into the state of the 34th Regiment at Barrackpur had resulted in a belief that the Muhammadan and Sikh soldiers were true to their salt; and so strong was the impression that only the Hindus of the disbanded 19th were really disaffected, that, after the dispersion of the regiment, it was believed that the whole history of the mutiny, which had ruined them, might be gathered from the Musulman Sipahis. But, although a sagacious civil officer was put upon their track, and every effort was made to elicit the desired information, the attempt was altogether a failure. Whether these first impressions were right or wrong, whether the mutiny was, in its origin and inception, a Hindu or a Muhammadan movement, will hereafter be a subject of inquiry. But, before the end of the month of April, it must have been apparent to Lord Canning that nothing was to be hoped from that antagonism of the Asiatic races which had ever been regarded as the main element of our strength and safety. Muhammadans and Hindus were plainly united against us.
From an unexpected quarter there soon came proof of this union. As the new Enfield rifle had been the outward and visible cause of the great fear that had arisen in the minds of the soldiery, it was natural that the anxieties of the Government should, in the first instance, have been confined to the Native Infantry. In the Infantry Regiments a very large majority of the men were Hindus; whilst in the Cavalry the Muhammadan element was proportionately much stronger239. But now there
came from Mirath strange news to the effect that a Cavalry regiment had revolted.
To this station many unquiet thoughts had been directed; for it was one of the largest and most important in the whole range of our Indian territories. There, troops of all arms, both European and Native, were assembled. There, the Head-Quarters of the Bengal Artillery were established. There, the Ordnance Commissariat were diligently employed, in the Expense Magazine, on the manufacture of greased cartridges. There, the English Riflemen of the 60th, not without some feelings of disgust, were using the unsavoury things. More than once there had been reports that the Sipahis had risen at Mirath, and that the Europeans had been let loose against them. With vague but eager expectancy, the Native regiments at all the large stations in Upper India were looking in that direction, as for a signal which they knew would soon be discerned. Men asked each other what was the news from Mirath, and looked into the Native newspapers for the suggestive heading; for it was the cradle of all sorts of strange and disturbing stories. In this month of April its crowded Lines and busy Bazaars were stirred by indefinite apprehensions of something coming. Every day the excitement increased, for every day some new story, intended to confirm the popular belief in the base designs of the English, found its way into circulation. The emissary of evil, who, in some shape or other, was stalking across the country, was at Mirath in the guise of a wandering Fakir, or religions mendicant, riding on an elephant, with many followers. That he was greatly disturbing the minds of men was certain; so the Police authorities ordered him to depart. He moved; but it was believed that he went no farther than the Lines of one of the Native regiments240.
In no place was the story of the greased cartridges discussed with greater eagerness than at Mirath; in no place was there a more disturbing belief that this was a part of a great scheme for the defilement of the people. It was of little use to declare to them that not a single soldier would ever be required to use a cartridge greased by anyone but himself, for the greasing of the cartridges was in their estimation only one of many fraudulent devices, and every one believed that the dry cartridges contained the obnoxious fat. So, in the beginning of the fourth week of April, the excitement, which for many weeks had been growing stronger and stronger, broke out into an act of open mutiny. The troopers of the 3rd Cavalry were the first to resist the orders of their officers. They had no new weapons; no new ammunition. The only change introduced into their practice was that which substituted the pinching or tearing off, for the biting off, the end of the cartridges which they used with their carbines. This change in the drill was to be explained to them on a parade of the skirmishers of the regiment, which was to be held on the morning of the 24th of April. On the preceding evening a report ran through cantonments that the troopers would refuse to touch the cartridges. The parade was held, and of ninety men, to whom the ammunition was to have been served out, only five obeyed the orders of their officers. In vain Colonel Carmichael Smyth explained to them that the change had been introduced from a kindly regard for their own scruples. They were dogged and obdurate, and would not touch the cartridges. So the parade was dismissed, and the eighty-five troopers of the 3rd were ordered for Court-martial.
All this made it manifest to Lord Canning that the worst suspicions were deeply rooted in the Sipahi Army; and though he at all times maintained a calm and cheerful demeanour, he thought much and anxiously of the signs and symptoms of the troubled spirit that was abroad. There were many indications that these suspicions were not confined to the military classes, but were disquieting also the general community. Not only in Mirath, but also in many other parts of the country, there was
a belief that the English designed to defile both Hindus and Muhammadans, by polluting with unclean matter the daily food of the people. It has been shown that a suspicion of a similar character was abroad at the time of the Mutiny at Vellur241. Now the disturbing rumour, cunningly circulated, took many portentous shapes. It was said that the officers of the British Government, under command from the Company and the Queen, had mixed ground bones with the flour and the salt sold in the Bazaars; that they had adulterated all the ghi242 with animal fat; that bones had been burnt with the common sugar of the country; and that not only bone-dust flour, but the flesh of cows and pigs, had been thrown into the wells to pollute the drinking water of the people. Of this great imaginary scheme of contamination the matter of the greased cartridges was but a part, especially addressed to one part of the community. All classes, it was believed, were to be defiled at the same time; and the story ran that the “bara sahibs,” or great English lords, had commanded all the princes, nobles, landholders, merchants, and cultivators of the land, to feed together upon English bread.
Of these preposterous fables, the one which made the strongest impression on the public mind was the story of the bone-dust flour. That it was current in March at Barrackpur is certain243. In the early part of April, a circumstance occurred which proved that the panic had then spread to the Upper Provinces. It happened that flour having risen to an exceptionally high price at Kanhpur, certain dealers at Mirath chartered a number of Government boats to carry a large supply down the canal to the former place. When the first instalment arrived, and was offered for sale at a price considerably below that which had previously ruled in the Bazaars, it found a ready market; but
before the remainder reached Kanhpur, a story had been circulated to the effect that the grain had been ground in the canal mills. under European supervision, and that the dust of cows’ bones had been mixed up with it, with the intention of destroying the caste of all who should eat it. Such a story as this, circulated in the Lines and the Military Bazaars of Kanhpur, at once stopped the sale of the Mirath flour. Not a Sipahi would touch it, not a person of any kind would purchase it, cheap as was the price at which it was obtainable in comparison with all the other supplies in the market. Rapidly spread the alarm from one station to another, and as tidings came of the arrival of imaginary boat-loads or camel-loads of flour and bone-dust, men threw away the bread that they were rating. and believed themselves already defiled244. Whether, as some said, this was a trick of the Kanhpur grain merchants to keep up the price of flour, or whether the story had been set afloat under the same influences as those which had given so false a colouring to the accident of the greased cartridges, and had associated with all the other wild fictions of which I have spoken, cannot with certainty be declared. But, whatsoever the origin of the fable, it sunk deeply into men’s minds, and fixed there more ineradicably than ever their belief in the stern resolution of the Government to destroy the caste of the people by fraudulently bringing, in one way or other, the unclean thing to their lips.
It fixed, too, more firmly than before in the mind of Lord Canning, the belief that a great fear was spreading itself among the people, and that there was more danger in such a feeling than in a great hatred. Thinking of this, he thought also of another strange story that had come to him from the North-West, and which even the most experienced men about him were incompetent to explain. From village to village, brought by one messenger and sent onward by another, passed a mysterious token in the shape of one of those flat cakes made from flour and water, and forming the common bread of the people, which, in their language, are
called Chapatis. All that was known about it was, that a messenger appeared, gave the cake to the head man of one village, and requested him to despatch it onward to the next; and that, in this way, it travelled from place to place; no one refusing, no one doubting, few even questioning, in blind obedience to a necessity felt rather than understood. After a while, this practice became known to the functionaries of the English Government, who thought much of it, or thought little of it, according to their individual dispositions, and interpreted it in divers ways, according to the light that was in them245. The greater number locked upon it as a signal of warning and preparation. designed to tell the people that something great and portentous was about to happen, and to prompt them to be ready for the crisis. One great authority wrote to the Governor-General that he had been told that the chapati was the symbol of men’s food, and that its circulation was intended to alarm and to influence men’s minds by indicating to them that their means of subsistence would be taken from them, and to tell them, therefore, to hold together. Others, laughing to scorn this notion of the fiery cross, saw in it only a common superstition of the country. It was said that it was no unwonted thing for a Hindu, in whose family sickness had broken out. to institute this transmission of chapatis, in the belief that it would carry of the disease; or for a community, when the cholera or other pestilence was raging, to betake themselves to a similar practice. Then, again, it was believed by others that the cakes had been sent abroad by enemies of the British Government. for the purpose of attaching to their circulation another dangerous fiction, to the effect that there was bone-dust in them, and that the English had resorted to this supplementary method of defiling the people. Some, too, surmised that, by a device sometimes used for other purposes246, seditious letters were in this
manner forwarded from village to village, read by the village chief, again crusted over with flour, and sent on in the shape of a chapati, to be broken by the next recipient. But whatsoever the real history of the movement, it had doubtless the effect of producing and keeping alive much popular excitement in the districts through which the cakes were transmitted; and it may be said that its action was too widely diffused, and that it lasted for too long a time, to admit of a very ready adoption of the theory that it was of an accidental character, the growth only of domestic, or even of municipal, anxieties247. Some saw in it much meaning; some saw none. Time has thrown no new light upon it. Opinions still widely differ. And all that History can record with any certainty is, that the bearers of these
strange missives went from place to place, and that ever as they went new excitements were engendered, and vague expectations were raised.
That in all this there was something more than mere military disaffection was manifest to Lord Canning; but neither he nor his confidential advisers could clearly discern what it was. He had a general conception that evil-minded men, with strong resentments to be gratified by the ruin of the British Government, were sending forth their emissaries; but with the exception of the ministers of the dethroned King of Oudh, whom he had suspected from the first248, he could not individualise his suspicions. How was he to know, how was any Englishman, shut up all day long in his house, and having no more living intercourse with the people than if they were clay figures, to know what was passing beneath the surface of Native society? If anything were learnt at that time to throw light upon the sources of the great events that were to happen, it was by merest accident, and the full force of the revelation was rarely discernible at the time. It was remembered afterwards that, in the early part of this year, one man, a Maratha by race, a Brahman by caste, of whom something has already been recorded in this narrative,
was displaying, in his movements, an unwonted activity, which created surprise, but scarcely aroused suspicion. This man was Dundu Pant, commonly known as the Nana Sahib, of Bhitur – the adopted son of the Peshwa, Baji Rao. He was not given to distant journeyings; indeed, he was seldom seen beyond the limits of his own estate. But in the early months of 1857, having visited Kalpi, he made a journey to Dehli, and, a little latter in the year, paid a visit to Lakhnao. It was in the middle of April that he started on this last journey. On the 17th of that month, Mr. Morland, then one of the Agra Judges, who shortly after the Peshwa’s death had been Commissioner at Bhitur, and who had endeavoured to rescue from resumption a part of his pension, paid a visit to the Nana at that place. The wily Musulman Agent, Azim-ullah Khan, who had pleaded his cause in England, was with Dundu Pant when the English gentleman was announced, and they talked freely together, as friends talk, no suspicion on the one side, and no appearance of anything unwonted on the other. All was outwardly smooth and smiling. The Maratha was as profuse as ever in his expressions of respect and esteem; and when Morland took his departure, the Brother of Dundu Pant told him that the Nana purposed to return the visit of the Sahib next day at Kanhpur. The next day happened to be Sunday, and Morland was anxious, therefore, to decline the visit; but the Nana Sahib went to Kanhpur, and again sent Baba Bhat to the English gentleman to propose an interview. What he wished to say to the man who had been kind to him will now never be known, for Morland declined the meeting, on the plea that it was the Sabbath, and expressed regret that the Nana Sahib should have made the journey to no purpose. To this the Brahman replied, that his brother was on his way to Lakhnao to visit one of the Nawabs. There was something in all this strange and surprising. An English nobleman, in the course of three or four months, might visit all the chief cities of Europe without anyone taking heed of the occurrence. But the nobility of India are little given to travelling; and the Nana Sahib had rarely gone beyond the limits of Bhitur249. That,
within so short a time, he should make these three journeys, was a fact to excite speculation; but he was held to be a quiet, inoffensive person, good-natured, perhaps somewhat dull, and manifestly not of that kind of humanity of which conspirators are made, so no political significance was attached to the fact. What likelihood was there, at that time, that such a man as Dundu Pant, heavy and seemingly impassive, who had for some years quietly accepted his position, and during that time done many acts of kindness and hospitality to the English gentlemen, should suddenly become a plotter against the State? Had any one then said that it behoved the Government to mark the movements of that man, he would have been laughed to scorn as an alarmist. We never know in India how many are the waiters and the watchers; we never know at what moment our enemies, sluggish in their hatreds as in all else, may exact the payment of old scores which we have thought were long ago forgotten.
So Dundu Pant, Nana Sahib, passed on, about some business known to himself, utterly unknown to European functionaries, to Kalpi, on the banks of the Jamnah, to the great imperial city of Dehli, and to Lakhnao, the capital of Oudh. In the last of these places, when the Nana arrived, Henry Lawrence was diligently, with his whole good heart, striving to make right all that had gone wrong during the time of his predecessor. But again the handwriting on the wall traced those fatal words, “Too late.” If he had but gone to Lakhnao when he had first offered to go, how different would all have been! It was on the 18th April that the Nana Sahib started on his journey to Lakhnao.
On that day Henry Lawrence wrote a long letter to the Governor-General, telling him that he had discerned signs of dangerous coalitions between the regular Sipahi regiments, the irregulars taken into our service from the old Oudh Army, and the men of the Police battalions; symptoms also of intrigues on foot among some of the chief people of the city. There were many elements of trouble; and now they were beginning to develop themselves in a manner
significant of a general outburst of popular discontent. “This city,” wrote Henry Lawrence on that 18th of April, “is said to contain some six or seven hundred thousand souls, and does certainly contain many thousands (twenty thousand, I was told yesterday) of disbanded soldiers, and of hungry, nay starving dependents of the late Government. This very morning a clod was thrown at Mr. Ommaney (the Judicial Commissioner), and another struck Major Anderson (Chief Engineer) whilst in a buggy with myself. ... The improvements in the city here go on very fast – too fast and too roughly. Much discontent has been caused by demolition of buildings, and still more by threats of further similar measures; also regarding the seizure of religious and other edifices, and plots of ground, as Hazul or Government property. I have visited many of these places and pacified parties, and prohibited any seizure or demolition without competent authority. The Revenue measures, though not as sweeping as represented by the writer whose letter your worship sent me, have been unsatisfactory. The Talukdars have, I fear, been hardly dealt with; at least, in the Faizabad division some have lost half their villages, some have lost all.” Such, stated here in the hurried outline of a letter from the spot, to be dwelt upon more in detail hereinafter, was the condition of affairs which, in the third week of April, the Nana Sahib found in Lakhnao. He could have scarcely wished for any better materials from which to erect an edifice of rebellion.
By this Dundu Pant, Nana Sahib – by all who were festering with resentments against the English and malignantly biding their time, the annexation of Oudh had been welcomed as a material aid to the success of their machinations. It was no sudden thought, born of the accident of the greased cartridges, that took the disappointed Brahman and his Muhammadan friend to Lakhnao in the spring of this year of trouble. For months, for years indeed, ever since the failure of the mission to England had been apparent, they had been quietly spreading their network of intrigue all over the country. From one Native Court to another Native Court, from one extremity to another of the great continent of India, the agents of the Nana Sahib had passed with overtures and invitations, discreetly, perhaps mysteriously, worded, to Princes and Chiefs of different races and religions, but most hopefully of all to the Marathas. At the three great Maratha families – the families of the Rajah of Satarah, of the Peshwa, of the Bhonsla – Lord Dalhousie
had struck deadly blows. In the Southern Maratha country, indeed, it seemed that Princes and Nobles were alike ripe for rebellion. It was a significant fact that the agents of the great Satarah and Puna families had been doing their master’s work in England about the same time, that both had returned to India rank rebels, and that the first year of Lord Canning’s administration found Rangu Bapuji as active for evil in the South as Azim-ullah was in the North; both able and unscrupulous men, and hating the English with a deadlier hatred for the very kindness that had been shown to them. But it was not until the crown had been set upon the annexations of Lord Dalhousie by the seizure of Oudh, that the Nana Sahib and his accomplices saw much prospect of success. That event was the turning-point of their career of intrigue. What had before been difficult was now made easy by this last act of English usurpation. Not only were the ministers of the King of Oudh tampering with the troops at the Presidency, and sowing dangerous lies broadcast over the length and breadth of the land, but such was the impression made by the last of our annexations, that men asked each other who was safe, and what use was there in fidelity, when so faithful a friend and ally as the King of Oudh was stripped of his dominions by the Government whom he had aided in its need. It is said that Princes and Chiefs, who had held back, then came forward, and that the Nana Sahib began to receive answers to his appeals250.
But whatsoever may have been its effect in remote places, it cannot be questioned that in the condition of Oudh itself after annexation there was that which must have gladdened the heart of every plotter against the State. Such men as Dirndl’ Pant and Azim-ullah Khan could not pass through the streets of Lakhnao without clearly seeing what was coming. What they saw and what they heard, indeed, pleased them so greatly, that they assumed a bold and swaggering demeanour, which attracted the attention of the English functionaries to whom they were introduced. For they made no secret of their visit; but went about openly in the public streets, with numerous attendants, and even sought the presence of the Commissioner. The Nana said that he had come only to see the sights of Lakhnao; so Henry Lawrence received him kindly, and ordered every attention to be shown to him by the authorities of the city. But his sojourn in Lakhnao was brief, and his departure sudden. He went without taking leave of the English functionaries, saying that business required his presence at Kanhpur251.
230. “The execution of a Native officer of his rank,” wrote Lord Canning to the President of the Board of Control, “convicted by his brother officers, will have a most wholesome effect. Such a thing is quite unprecedented. There has been a delay between the sentence and the execution which has vexed me, as it may give an appearance of hesitation to the proceedings of Government, which would be mischievous, and which never has existed for a moment. The delay was caused by the Commander-in-Chief not having given authority to General Hearsey, in his warrant, to carry out sentences against any but non-commissioned officers, and by an opinion utterly erroneous of the Judge-Advocate, who is with the Commander-in-Chief, that the authority could not be given. Hence nearly a week was lost, and with it something of the sharpness of the example.” – MS. Correspondence of Lord Canning.
231. It does not appear that any outrages were actually committed; but one night a Sipahi appeared suddenly in a threatening attitude before a young officer, as he was on his way home, upon which, being a stalwart and brave fellow, the English subaltern knocked him down.
232. A little later the Governor-General wrote: “The mutinous spirit is not quelled here, and I feel no confidence of being able to eradicate it very speedily, although the outbreaks may be repressed easily. The spirit of disaffection, or rather of mistrust, for it is more that, has spread further than I thought six weeks ago, but widely rather than deeply, and it requires very wary walking. A hasty measure of retribution, betraying animosity, or an unjust act of severity, would confirm, instead of allaying, the temper which is abroad. It is not possible to say with confidence what the causes are; but with the common herd there is a sincere fear for their caste, and a conviction that this has been in danger from the cartridges and other causes. This feeling is played upon by others from outside, and, to some extent, with political objects. But, upon the whole, political animosity does not go for much in the present movement, and certainly does not actuate the Sipahis in the mass.” – Lord Canning to Lord Elphinstone, May 6, 1857. – MS. Correspondence.
233. Three companies of the 34th had been on detachment duty at Chatgaon. No suspicion of disloyalty had attached to them, and when they heard of what had passed at Barrackpur, they sent in a memorial, saying that they had heard with extreme regret of the disgraceful conduct of Manghal Pandi and the Guard; that they well knew that the Government would not interfere with their religion; and that they would remain “faithful forever.” If they were sincere, their sincerity must be regarded as an additional proof of the external agency that was, I believe, at the beginning of 1857, employed to corrupt the Sipahis at the Presidency. It is a circumstance also to be noticed, that the very Subahdar of the Mint-Guard, who had arrested the Sipahis of the 2nd Grenadiers, was accused, in the course of the inquiry into the conduct and temper of the 34th, of being a prime mover of sedition.
234. Lieutenant Martineau to Captain Septimus Becher. The writer adds: “Their being selected as men of intelligence and fidelity thus becomes to them the most fatal curse: they will obey the orders of their military superiors, and socially perish through their instinct of obedience. That their views are not exaggerated, some knowledge of the Native character, and of the temper of the Native mind (non-military as well as military) at this present moment, tend to convince me. The Asiatic mind is periodically prone to fits of religious panic; in this state, reasoning that would satisfy us is utterly thrown away upon them; their imaginations run riot on preconceived views, and often the more absurd they are, the more tenaciously do they cling to them. We are now passing through one of these paroxysms, which we might safely disregard were not unfortunately the military element mixed up in it. What the exciting causes are that at this present moment are operating on the Native mind, to an universal extent throughout these provinces, I cannot discover; no Native can or will offer any explanation, but I am disposed to regard the greased cartridges, alleged to be smeared with cows’ and pigs’ fat, more as the medium than as the original cause of this widespread feeling of distrust that is spreading dissatisfaction to our rule, and tending to alienate the fidelity of the Native Army.”
235. “I am not so much surprised,” wrote General Anson to Lord Canning on the 23rd of March, “at their objections to the cartridges, having seen them. I had no idea they contained, or rather are smeared with, such a quantity of grease, which looks exactly like fat. After ramming down the ball, the muzzle of the musket is covered with it. This, however, will, I imagine, not be the case with those prepared according to the late instructions. But there are now misgivings about the paper, and I think it so desirable that they should be assured that no animal grease is used in its manufacture, that a special report shall be made to me on that head from Mirath, and until I receive an answer, and am satisfied that no objectionable matter is used, no firing at the depots by the Sipahis will take place. It would be easy to dismiss the detachments to their regiments without any practice, on the ground that the hot weather is so advanced, and that very little progress could be made, but I do not think that would be advisable. The question having been raised, must be settled. It would only be deferred till another year, and I trust that the measures taken by the Government when the objection was first made, and the example of the punishment of the 19th Native Infantry, and of the other delinquents of the 70th, now being tried by a general court-martial, will have the effect we desire.” [It is probable that General Anson here referred to the trial of the men of the 2nd Grenadiers.] – MS. Correspondence.
236. The orders issued from the Adjutant-General’s office, in consequence of this decision, were, that the detachments should proceed to target practice, that they should choose and apply their own grease, and that they should pinch or tear off the end of the cartridge with their fingers. In the event of the men hesitating to use the cartridges, their officers were to reason with them, calmly in the first instance, and if the Depot, after such an appeal to them, were to refuse to use the cartridges, more stringent measures were to be resorted to for the enforcement of discipline. – Letter from Adjutant-General to General Hearsey.
237. “The night before last a fireball was found ignited in the hut of a Sipahi of the 5th Native Infantry. The but was empty, as the man is attached to the School of Musketry, and lives with them. On the following night the Lines of the 60th Native Infantry were fired, and five huts, with all the men’s property, destroyed. This was clearly an act of retaliation, for incendiaries do not destroy themselves.” – General Barnard to Lord Canning, April 24, 1857. – MS. Correspondence.
238. That Sir Henry Barnard thought much and wrote very sensibly of the Sipahi Army, the defects of our Indian military system, and the causes of the prevailing disaffection, I have ample evidence in letters before me.
239. As a rule, the Muhammadans were better horsemen and more adroit swordsmen than the Hindus, and therefore they made more serviceable troopers. It is stated, however, that in the 3rd Regiment of Regular Cavalry which led off the dance of death at Mirath, there were an unusual number of Brahmans.
240. Compare following passage in the Mirath Narrative of Mr. Williams, Commissioner First Division: “All the rumours by which the minds of the Native soldiers were prepared for revolt, were industriously disseminated at Mirath, especially those regarding the use of polluting grease in the preparation of the new cartridges, and the mixture of ground bones in flour, by which, it was said, Government desired to destroy the religion of the people. One of the many emissaries who were moving about the country appeared at Mirath in April, ostensibly as a fakir, riding on an elephant with followers, and having with him horses and native carriages. The frequent visits of the men of the Native regiments to him attracted attention, and he was ordered, through the police, to leave the place; he apparently complied, but, it is said, he stayed some time in the Lines of the 20th Native Infantry.” – Unpublished Records.
241. Ante, p. 181. It was then said that the English had mixed the blood of cows and pigs with all the newly manufactured salt.
242. This is the ordinary grease used for cooking purposes throughout India.
243. It was brought to the notice of General Hearsey by a native anonymous letter, picked up at the gate of Major Matthews, who commanded the 43rd. The Major sent it to Hearsey’s staff, describing it as “sad trash”; and Hearsey, in forwarding it to the Military Secretary, expressed regret that the contemptible production had not been burnt as soon as it was found. But History rejoices in the preservation of such contemptible productions. There are many such in my possession, but this is the earliest in date, and gives the most comprehensive account of the rumours circulated by our enemies.
244. Colonel Baird Smith to Mr. Colvin – Mr. Martin Gubbins to the same. “Once alarmed.” wrote the latter. “they drink in the greatest follies. Bone-dust atah alarm has taken hold of men’s minds at several of our stations, and Sipahis, private servants, Zamindars attending Court, have flung away their roti (bread) on hearing that five camel-loads of bone-dust atah had reached the station.” – MS. Correspondence.
245. Mr. Ford, Collector of Gurgaon, first. brought it to the notice of the Lieutenant-Governor of the North-Western Provinces, Mr. Colvin. who issued circular orders on the subject to all the local officers in charge of districts. In the trial of the King of Dehli great pains were taken to extract from the witnesses, both European and Native, some explanation of the “Chapati mystery”: but nothing satisfactory was elicited.
246. In this manner communication was sometimes held with the inmates of our gaols. See the “Revelations of an Orderly,” by Panjkauri Khan: “Suppose a prisoner is confined under the bayonet of Sipahis, he must be permitted to eat bread. The preparer of food is bribed, and a short note is put into a chapati, or a sentence is written on a plate, and when the bread is taken up the prisoner reads what is written.”
247. The circulation of the chapatis commenced at the beginning of the year. “The year 1857,” writes Captain Keatinge, “opened in Nimar by a general distribution of small cakes, which were passed on from village to village. The same; I am aware, has occurred all over Northern India, and has been spoken of as having been a signal for the disturbances which took place later in the year. At the time they appeared in Nimar, they were everywhere brought from the direction of Indur. That city was at the time afflicted with a severe visitation of cholera, and numbers of inhabitants died daily. It was at that time understood, by the people in Nimar, and is still believed, that the cakes of wheat were despatched from Indur after the performance over them of incantations that would ensure the pestilence accompanying them. The cakes did not come straight from North to South, for they were received at Bajanagar, more than half-way between Indur and Gwaliar, on the 9th of February, but had been distributed at Mandlesar on the 12th of January. This habit of passing on holy and unholy things is not unknown at Nimar. When smallpox breaks out in a village, a goat is procured, a cocoa-nut tied to its neck, and it is taken by the chowkeedar to the first village on the road to Mandata; it is not allowed to enter the town, but is taken by a villager to the next hamlet, and so passed on without rest to its destination.” This last is the scripturally recorded scapegoat. With respect to the chapatis, consult also the report of Major Erskine, Commissioner of the Sagar and Narbada territories: “So far back as January, 1857,” he writes, “small wheaten cakes (chapatis) were passed in a most mysterious manner from village to village in most of the districts, and, although all took it as a signal that something was coming, nobody in the division, I believe, knew what it portended, or whence it came, and it appeared to have been little thought about except that in the money-market of Sagar it is said to have had some slight effect in bill transactions. I reported the matter to Government at the time, but even now it is a matter of doubt if the signal was understood by any one, or if it referred to the coming rebellion, though such is now the general opinion.”
248. In my mind there is no doubt of the activity, at this time, of the Oudh people at Garden Reach. The Sipahis at Barrackpur were induced to believe that, if they broke away from the English harness, they would obtain more lucrative service under the restored kingship of Oudh. I have before me some letters, original and translated, of a Jamadar of the 34th Regiment, which contain numerous allusions to the Future of the King’s service. Take the following: “The 2nd Grenadiers said, in the beginning of April, ‘We will go to our homes sooner than bite the blank ammunition.’ The regiments were unanimous in joining the King of Oudh.” “The Subahdars of the Quarter-Guard said, ‘We have sided with the King of Oudh, but nothing has come of it.’ ” “Ramshai Lala said, ‘It would have been well for us.’ ” This also has its significance: “Subahdar Made Khan, Sirdar Khan, and Ramshai Lala said, ‘The Faringhi Betichuts’ (a vile term of opprobrium) ‘are unequalled in their want of faith. The King of Lakhnao put down his arms, and the Government have given him no allowance. We advised the King to put down his arms. The treachery of the Government is unrivalled.’ ” Colonel Wheler said that the writer of these letters appeared to be “affected in the head.” It will be remembered that the Native officer who reported the coming massacre of Vellur was also said to be mad. General Hearsey, sending on the correspondence to Government, said that there was “much method in his supposed madness”; and added, that “much important information on the whole cause and subject of this supposed Cartridge Mutiny might be elicited from him.” – MS. Correspondence.
249. A different statement has, I know, been made and commonly accepted. It is the belief that the Nana Sahib was frequently to be seen at Kanhpur, riding or driving on the Mall, and mixing freely with the European residents of the place. But the truth is, he eschewed Kanhpur, for the reason which induced his adoptive father, Baji Rao, to eschew it, namely, that a salute was not given to him on entering the cantonment. The person generally known in Kanhpur as the “Nana” was not Dundu Pant, but Nana Narain Rao, the eldest son of the ex-Peshwa’s chief adviser and manager, the Subahdar Ramehandar Pant, who, after his master’s death, resided at Kanhpur and was on terms of social familiarity with many of the principal European residents.
250. By those who systematically reject Native evidence, all this may be regarded as nothing but unsubstantial surmise. But there is nothing in my mind more clearly substantiated than the complicity of the Nana Sahib in widespread intrigues before the outbreak of the mutiny. The concurrent testimony of witnesses examined in parts of the country widely distant from each other takes this story altogether out of the regions of the conjectural. I speak only of the broad act itself. With regard to the statement in the text, that the machinations of the Nana Sahib were much assisted by the annexation of Oudh, I give the following, quantum valeat, from the evidence of a Native emissary detained and examined in Maisur in January, 1858. After giving a list of numerous princes and chiefs whom the Nana had addressed, this man said: “The Nana wrote at intervals, two or three months previous to the annexation of Oudh. But at first he got no answers. Nobody had any hope. After the annexation he wrote still more, and then the Saokars of Lakhnao joined in his views. Man Singh, who is the Chief of the Purbiah, or Purdasi, joined. Then the Sipahis began to make tajwiz (plans) among themselves, and the Lakhnao Saokars supported them. Until Oudh was annexed, Nana Sahib did not get answers from anyone; but when that occurred, many began to take courage and answer him. The plot among the Sipahis first took place – the discontent about the greased cartridges. Then answers began to pour in. Gulab Sing, of Jamu, was the first to send an answer. He said that he was ready with men, money, and arms, and he sent money to Nana Sahib, through one of the Lakhnao Saokars.” The former part of this statement may be readily accepted; the latter must be received with caution.
251. Vide Appendix, p. 454.
This collection transcribed by Chris Gage