1857
First symptoms of disaffection--Outbreak at Berhampur
--Mangal Pandy--Court-Martial at Meerut--Mutiny at Meerut
--The work of destruction--Want of energy
--Hugh Gough's experiences--Nothing could arrest the mutiny
Before proceeding with the account of my experiences with the Movable
Column, and the subsequent operations for the suppression of the
rebellion, in which I was fortunate enough to take part, it will,
I think, be advisable, for the better understanding of the whole
situation, to devote a little time to the consideration of the
progress of events from the first appearance of symptoms of
disaffection in Lower Bengal, to the crisis I have just been
describing, when Peshawar became involved in the general disturbance.
The substitution of a new rifle for the old musket with which the
sepoys had hitherto been armed entailed a different kind of drill;
and in order that this drill should be speedily learned by the
whole Native army, depots were formed at convenient places for the
instruction of selected men from every corps, who, on becoming
proficient, were to return and instruct their own regiments. One of
these depots was at Dum-Dum, and as early as the 24th January General
Hearsay, commanding the Presidency division, reported to Head-Quarters
that he perceived an 'unpleasant feeling' amongst the Native soldiers
learning the new drill, caused by a belief instilled into them 'by
designing persons, most likely Brahmins,' that they were to be forced
to embrace Christianity, and that for the furtherance of this object
the new ball-cartridges received from the arsenal at Fort William were
greased with the fat of pigs and cows, with the intention of violating
the religious prejudices and destroying the caste of those who would
have to bite them.
A little later various acts of incendiarism took place at other
stations in the command, and Hearsay became more than ever convinced
that there was grave dissatisfaction amongst the troops. He therefore
ordered a Court of Inquiry to be held to enable him to ascertain the
real cause of the ill-feeling which so evidently existed.
In the General's opinion, the statements recorded in the proceedings
of this Court clearly established the fact, that the Native officers
and sepoys were undoubtedly imbued with the belief that an unholy
mixture of cow's fat and lard had been used in the manufacture of the
new cartridge, and he recommended that the rifle ammunition should in
future be made up with the same description of paper that had always
been used for the musket-cartridge, which, he conceived, would put an
end to their suspicions and uneasiness.
The General, however, was told in reply that it was impossible to use
the old paper for the new cartridge, as the bore of the rifle being
much smaller than that of the musket, thinner paper was indispensable;
and he was directed to inform the sepoys that the new paper, though
tougher and less bulky, was made of exactly the same material as the
old. With respect to the lubricating mixture, he was to announce that
the Government had authorized the preparation of a grease, composed of
wax and oil, which was to be made up and applied to the cartridges
by the men themselves. These orders were carefully explained to the
Native troops, but without any good result. Their religious objection
to the new cartridge was not removed, and they frankly acknowledged
their fears.
On the 6th February an officer of the 34th Native Infantry at
Barrackpore was informed by a sepoy of his company that the four
Native regiments at that station, fearing that they would be forced
to destroy their caste and become Christians, had determined to rise
against their officers, and when they had plundered and burned their
bungalows, to proceed to Calcutta and try to seize Fort William,
or, if that proved beyond their powers, to take possession of the
treasury.
This circumstance was reported to Government by General Hearsay on the
11th February. In the same letter he said, 'We have at Barrackpore
been living upon a mine ready for explosion,' and he reported a story
which had reached him from Dum-Dum of a sepoy, on his way to cook
his food with his _lota_[1] full of water, meeting a low-caste man
belonging to the arsenal where the Enfield cartridges were being
manufactured. This man, it was said, asked the sepoy to allow him to
drink from his _lota_. The sepoy, a Brahmin, refused, saying: 'I have
scoured my _lota_; you will defile it by your touch.' The low-caste
man replied: 'You think much of your caste, but wait a little: the
_Sahib-logue_[2] will make you bite cartridges soaked in cow's fat,
and then where will your caste be?' The sepoy no doubt believed the
man, and told his comrades what was about to happen, and the report
rapidly spread to other stations.
Early in March several of the Hindu sepoys belonging to the Dum-Dum
School of Musketry expressed their unwillingness to bite the new
cartridge, and the Commandant proposed that the drill should be
altered so as to admit of the cartridge being torn instead of bitten.
Hearsay supported the proposal, remarking that the new mode of loading
need not be made to appear as a concession to agitation, but as part
of the drill for the new weapon. Events, however, moved so quickly
that, before sanction could be received to this suggestion, the troops
at Berhampur had broken into open mutiny. They refused to receive
their ammunition, on the ground of its being polluted, even after
it was explained to them that they were not being given the new
cartridges, but those which had been made up in the regiment a year
before. That night they broke open the bells-of-arms, and carried off
their muskets.
The Government then became aware that prompt action was necessary.
They decided that such open mutiny could not be excused on the grounds
of religious scruples, and ordered the regiment to be disbanded. As
Berhampur was somewhat isolated, and some distance from European
troops, it was arranged that the disbandment should take place at the
Head-Quarters of the Presidency division, and the 19th Native Infantry
was accordingly ordered to march to Barrackpore.
The revolt of this regiment brought forcibly before Lord Canning and
his advisers the perilous position of Lower Bengal, owing to the
paucity of European troops. Well may the authorities have been
startled, for between Calcutta and Meerut, a distance of 900 miles,
there were only four regiments of British infantry and a few scattered
Artillerymen, numbering in all less than 5,000, while the Native
troops amounted to upwards of 55,000. One of the four Infantry
regiments was at Fort William; but as only a portion of it could
be spared for the disbandment of the 19th, a special steamer was
despatched to Rangoon to bring over the 84th Foot. This regiment
reached Calcutta on the 20th March, and on the 31st the disbandment of
the mutinous Native Infantry regiment was carried out. The men were
paid up and escorted across the river Hughly, whence they were allowed
to proceed to their homes. They behaved in the most orderly manner on
the march from Berhampur and throughout the proceedings, and as they
left the parade-ground they cheered General Hearsay, and wished him a
long life, apparently well pleased at being let off so easily.
At Barrackpore itself an outbreak had occurred two days before in the
34th Native Infantry. As I have already related, the sepoy, Mangal
Pandy, shot at the sergeant-major.[3] The Adjutant, on hearing
what had happened, galloped to the parade-ground. As he neared the
quarter-guard he was fired at, and his horse shot by the mutineer, who
then badly wounded him with a sword as he was trying to disentangle
himself from the fallen animal. The General now appeared on the scene,
and, instantly grasping the position of affairs, rode straight at
Mangal Pandy, who stood at bay with his musket loaded, ready to
receive him. There was a shot, the whistle of a bullet, and a man fell
to the ground--but not the General; it was the fanatic sepoy himself,
who at the last moment had discharged the contents of his musket into
his own breast! The wretched man had been worked up to a pitch of
madness by the sepoys of his regiment, who stood by while he attacked
the Adjutant, and would have allowed him to kill their Commander, but
they were too great cowards to back him up openly. Mangal Pandy was
not dead. He was taken to the hospital, and eventually was tried by
a Court-Martial composed of Native officers, sentenced to death, and
hanged in the presence of all the troops at Barrackpore. The Native
officer in command of the quarter-guard met the same fate, and the
regiment was then disbanded.
The orders for the disbandment of the 19th and 34th Native Infantry
were directed to be read to every Native corps in the service, and
it was hoped that the quick retribution which had overtaken these
regiments would check the spirit of mutiny throughout the army. For
a time this hope appeared to be justified. Satisfactory reports were
received from different parts of Bengal, and anything like a serious
or general outbreak was certainly not contemplated by the authorities.
General Hearsay reported to Government that he had directed the
European troops, temporarily located at Barrackpore, to return to
their respective cantonments, as he did not think it probable that
he would require their presence again. About the same time Sir John
Lawrence, after visiting the Musketry School at Sialkot, wrote
hopefully to the Governor-General of the aspect of affairs in the
Punjab. Lord Canning and his advisers, owing to these favourable
reports, were on the point of sending the 84th Foot back to Burma,
when news reached them from Upper India of the calamitous occurrences
at Meerut and Delhi.
The Meerut division was commanded by Major-General Hewitt, an officer
of fifty years' service, and the station of Meerut by Brigadier
Archdale Wilson, Commandant of the Bengal Artillery. The garrison
consisted of the 6th Dragoon Guards, a troop of Horse Artillery, a
battery of Field Artillery, a company of Foot Artillery, the 1st
Battalion 60th Rifles, and three Native corps--the 3rd Light Cavalry,
and the 11th and 20th Native Infantry.
Towards the end of April incendiary fires began to take place, and
the Native soldiers evinced more or less disrespect in their manner
towards their officers. These signs of disaffection were followed
by the refusal of some of the troopers of the 3rd Light Cavalry to
receive their cartridges, although the commanding officer carefully
explained to them that they were not the new cartridges, but the very
same they had always used, and that according to the new drill they
were not required to bite them when loading their carbines.
A Court of Inquiry was held to investigate the matter, composed
entirely of Native officers, three of whom belonged to the offending
regiment. The verdict of the Court was that no adequate cause could be
assigned for the disobedience of orders in refusing to receive and use
the cartridges that were served out. 'The only conclusion the Court
can arrive at in regard to this point is that a report seems to have
got abroad which in some vague form attaches suspicion of impurity
to the materials used for making these cartridges, but the Court are
unanimously of opinion that there is nothing whatever objectionable in
the cartridges of the 3rd Regiment Light Cavalry, and that they may be
freely received and used as heretofore without in the slightest degree
affecting any religious scruple of either a Hindu or Mussulman, and if
any pretence contrary to that is urged, that it must be false.' This
opinion, it must be remembered, was the opinion of Natives, not
Europeans, and was given only sixteen days before the outbreak
occurred at Meerut.
After carefully reviewing the evidence brought before the Court, and
considering the opinion expressed by the Native officers who composed
it, the Commander-in-Chief decided to try the eighty-five men who had
refused to receive the cartridges by a General Court-Martial composed
entirely of their own countrymen. The Court was formed of six
Mahomedans and nine Hindus, six Native officers being brought over
from Delhi for the purpose.
The prisoners were tried on the 8th May, found guilty, and sentenced
to imprisonment with hard labour for ten years.
The following morning there was a parade of the whole of the Meerut
garrison, and the finding and sentence of the Court were read to the
men. The eighty-five troopers were then stripped of their uniform and
fetters were fastened on their ankles. As each culprit was marched
forward, he called on his comrades to rescue him, but no response came
from the ranks; and when the ceremony was finished the prisoners were
marched down the line and escorted to the gaol. In his report of the
parade to Army Head-Quarters, General Hewitt stated that 'the majority
of the prisoners seemed to feel acutely the degradation to which their
folly and insubordination had brought them. The remainder of the
troops are behaving steady and soldier-like.'
The action of the Meerut authorities in putting the prisoners in irons
on the parade-ground, in the presence of their regiment, before
being made over to the civil power, met with the disapproval of the
Commander-in-Chief and the Governor-General. The former expressed his
regret at the unusual procedure. The latter was more pronounced, and
thus expressed himself: 'The riveting of the men's fetters on parade,
occupying, as it did, several hours, in the presence of many who were
already ill-disposed and many who believed in the cartridge fable,
must have stung the brigade to the quick. The consigning the
eighty-five prisoners after such a ceremony to gaol with no other than
a Native guard over them was folly that is inconceivable.'
The procedure was no doubt unusual, and it certainly was most
imprudent, under the circumstances, to trust the gaol to a Native
guard. I think also, considering the number of the prisoners, and the
length of time necessary for riveting the fetters, that it was not
judicious to subject the troops to such a severe and protracted
trial of their nerves and patience; but, before acquiescing in Lord
Canning's sweeping condemnation, it should be considered that the
object of the punishment was to produce a deterrent effect on those
who were likely to follow the bad example that had been set them,
and as the offence of the troopers had been public and ostentatious,
General Hewitt no doubt thought it right to make the punishment as
marked and public as possible.
The next day was Sunday, and outwardly the cantonment of Meerut
had assumed its usual appearance of Sabbath calm; but there was an
undercurrent of unrest--there was considerable commotion in the Native
bazaars, which were unusually crowded, and had not the European
officers been blinded by over-confidence in their men, signs might
have been perceived amongst the Native soldiers of preparation for
some untoward event.
It was late in the day before the storm burst. The Chaplain of Meerut
tells us that he was about to start with his wife for evening service,
when the Native nurse warned them of coming danger, beseeching her
mistress to remain indoors, and, on being asked to explain, saying
there would be a fight with the sepoys. The idea seemed incredible,
and the Chaplain would have paid no attention to the warning had not
his wife been greatly alarmed. At her earnest request he took his two
children with them in the carriage, instead of leaving them in the
house with the _ayah_, as had been intended. It was soon apparent that
the _ayah_ had not spoken without reason, for before the church was
reached sounds of musketry were heard and columns of smoke were
seen rising above the quarter occupied by the Native troops. As the
Chaplain arrived at the church enclosure, the buglers of the 60th
Rifles, who were drawn up ready to enter the church, sounded the
'alarm' and the 'assembly.' The parade was dismissed, and as the
British soldiers rushed to the barracks for their arms and ammunition,
the congregation rapidly dispersed, some to their homes, others to
seek safety in the nearest quarter-guard.
It was the custom before the Mutiny for our soldiers to attend Divine
Service unarmed, save with their side-arms. The Native soldiers were
aware of this, and they no doubt calculated on the 60th Rifles being
safe and almost defenceless inside the church as soon as the bells
ceased tolling. What they were not aware of was the fact that, owing
to the lengthening days and the increasing heat, the evening church
parade had been ordered half an hour later than on the previous
Sunday. The mutineers therefore showed their hand half an hour too
soon, and as they galloped down the 60th Rifles lines they came upon
the men fully armed and rapidly falling in. Being thus disappointed in
their hope of surprising the white soldiers, the 3rd Cavalry proceeded
without a moment's delay to the gaol, broke into the cells, and
released their eighty-five comrades and all the other prisoners, about
1,200 in number.
While this was going on, the two Native Infantry regiments assembled
on their respective parade-grounds in wild excitement, discharging
their muskets at random, and setting fire to their own huts. The
British officers, hearing the tumult, hastened to their lines and did
their best to restore order, but in vain. The sepoys had gone too
far, and were absolutely deaf to threats and entreaties. They did not
attack their own officers, but warned them to get away, telling them
the Company's '_raj_'[4] was at an end. Their clemency, however, did
not extend to officers of other regiments.
Colonel Finnis, who had served forty years with the sepoys, and firmly
believed in their loyalty, was the first victim; he fell riddled with
bullets from a volley fired by the 20th, while exhorting the men of
his own regiment (the 11th) to be true to their salt. The work of
destruction then began in earnest, in which the population from the
bazaars and the neighbouring villages eagerly joined, for (as the
Commissioner reported) they were armed and ready for the onslaught
before the sepoys commenced the attack, plainly showing how perfectly
they were aware of what was about to happen. They poured forth in
thousands from every direction, and in a surprisingly short time
almost every bungalow belonging to a British officer serving with
Native troops was gutted and burnt. Besides Colonel Finnis, seven
officers, three officers' wives, two children, and every stray
European man, woman and child in the outskirts of the cantonments were
massacred.
It was now time for the sepoys to think of themselves. They had thrown
off all allegiance to the _Sarkar_;[5] they had been guilty of murder,
robbery, and incendiarism, and they knew that retribution must
speedily overtake them if they remained at Meerut; they therefore
lost no time in making their escape towards Delhi. They had had ample
opportunity for consultation with the Native officers from that
station, who had come to Meerut as members of the Court-Martial on the
men of the 3rd Light Cavalry, and they knew perfectly well that the
troops at Delhi were prepared to help them to seize the magazine and
resuscitate the old Moghul dynasty. 'To Delhi! To Delhi!' was their
cry, and off they went, leaving naught behind them in their lines
but the smouldering fires of their officers' houses and the lifeless
bodies of their English victims.
But it will be asked, Where were the British troops? Where indeed?
On the alarm being given, the British troops got under arms 'in an
incredibly short time,' but there was unaccountable delay in marching
them to the spot where their help was so greatly needed. The
Carabineers occupied barracks within a few hundred yards of the Native
Infantry lines, the 60th Rifles were only about a mile and a half
away, and the Artillery lay just beyond the 60th. The Brigadier
(Wilson) despatched one company of the Rifles to guard the treasury,
another he left to protect the barracks, and with the remainder,
accompanied by the Carabineers and Artillery, he leisurely proceeded
towards the Native Infantry lines. It was almost dark when he arrived,
but there was light enough to discern, from the ruined houses and the
dead bodies of the murdered officers lying about, in what a merciless
spirit the revolt had been perpetrated. A few shots were fired from
behind the burning huts, but not a single living being was visible,
except two or three Native troopers who were dimly perceptible in the
distance coming from the direction of the gaol, and it was evident
that the sepoys as a body had vanished. But whither? A lengthened
discussion took place as to what was the best course to pursue, which
only resulted in the troops being marched back to their own end of the
cantonment and bivouacking on the mall for the night. The General
and Brigadier, misled by the tumult in the city, which they could
distinctly hear, came to the conclusion that the sepoys had
congregated within its walls and might shortly be expected to attack
that part of the station where the European residents chiefly lived.
It was not discovered till the next morning that all three Native
regiments had made for Delhi.
It is easy to be wise after the event, but one cannot but feel that
there was unaccountable, if not culpable, want of energy displayed by
the Meerut authorities on this disastrous occasion. The officer
in command was afterwards severely censured for not acting with
sufficient promptitude on first hearing of the outbreak; for not
trying to find out where the mutineers had gone; and for not
endeavouring to overtake them before they reached Delhi. The
Government of India finally signified their disapproval by removing
General Hewitt from his command.
Wilson, the Brigadier, like everyone else at Meerut, appears to have
been completely taken by surprise. But why this should have been the
case, after the warning that had been given by the mutinous conduct
of the 3rd Cavalry, and why no steps should have been taken after the
exasperating parade on the 9th to guard against a possible, if not
probable, outbreak, is difficult to understand; and can only be
accounted for by that blind faith in the Native soldier, and disbelief
in his intention or ability to revolt, which led to such unfortunate
results all over India.
The following story will exemplify how completely the authorities at
Meerut were blinded by this misplaced confidence. On the afternoon of
the 9th the British officers of the 3rd Light Cavalry went to the gaol
to pay up the prisoners belonging to their regiment. When Lieutenant
Hugh Gough,[6] who was one of these officers, returned to his house,
a Hindu Native officer, belonging to the troop Gough was temporarily
commanding, told him that the men had determined to rescue their
comrades, and that the Native guard over the gaol had promised to help
them. Gough went at once to his commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel
Carmichael Smyth, and reported what he had heard, but the Colonel
pooh-poohed the idea as ridiculous, and told Gough he must not give
credence to anything so monstrous.
Later in the day Gough met Brigadier Wilson and told him of the
warning which had been given to him, without, however, producing any
impression; the information was received with the same contemptuous
disbelief displayed by Colonel Carmichael Smyth.
The following day (Sunday), late in the afternoon, the same Native
officer, attended by two troopers, galloped to Gough's house, shouting
to him that the _hala_[7] had begun, and that the Native Infantry were
firing on their officers. Gough mounted his horse, and, accompanied by
the three Cavalry soldiers, proceeded as quickly as possible to the
Infantry parade-ground, where he arrived just as the wild scene of
excitement and confusion I have before described was at its height.
The sepoys, some in uniform, some in their own Native clothes, were
rushing about in the maddest disorder, yelling, shouting, and dancing
as if possessed, while the flames from the burning huts shed a lurid
light on the demoniacal proceedings.
When Gough's party appeared in sight, the sepoys called to the three
troopers to get out of the way, as they wanted to shoot the _sahib_.
No notice being taken of this warning, they fired straight at the
whole party, but without hitting anyone. Gough, seeing things had gone
too far for him to do any good, rode off with his little escort to
his own lines, where he found the men busy saddling their horses, and
helping themselves to ammunition from the regimental magazine, which
they had broken open. He endeavoured in vain to allay the excitement;
one or two shots were fired at him by recruits, but no determined
attempt was made to take his life, and at last the Native officers
combined to force him away, saying they could no longer answer for his
safety.
It was then all but dark. Gough rode off towards the European lines,
still accompanied by his trusty Native escort, and on his way came
upon an enormous crowd of people from the bazaar, armed with swords,
sticks, and anything they could get hold of, who tried to stop him.
Through these he charged, closely followed by the Native officer and
two troopers, who did not leave him until he was within sight of
the Artillery mess. Then they pulled up, and said they could go no
further. Gough did all he could to persuade them to remain with
him, but to no purpose. They told him it was impossible for them to
separate themselves from their friends and relations, and making the
officer they had so carefully protected a respectful salaam, they rode
off to join their mutinous comrades. Gough never heard of them again,
though he tried hard to trace what had become of the men who proved
themselves such 'friends in need.'
However much the authorities at Meerut deserved to be censured for
their dilatoriness in dealing with the revolt in the first instance,
and their lack of energy in not trying to discover in what direction
the mutineers had gone, I doubt whether anything would have been
gained by following them up, or whether it would have been possible
to overtake them before they reached Delhi. Only a very few European
Cavalry were available for pursuit, for the Carabineers, having lately
arrived in India, were composed mainly of recruits still in the
riding-school, and their horses for the most part were quite unbroken.
These few, with the six Horse Artillery guns, might have been
despatched; but the mutineers had a considerable start, the Cavalry
could not have been overtaken, and as soon as the Infantry became
aware that they were being followed, they would have scattered
themselves over the country, the features of which were familiar to
them, and, favoured by the darkness, could have defied pursuit. Delhi
is forty miles from Meerut, and it would not have been possible for
the 60th Rifles, marching in the terrible heat of the month of May, to
have reached that place before the next evening (the 11th), and, as
was afterwards ascertained, the work of murder and devastation there
began on the morning of that day. The three Native Infantry regiments
and the battery of Artillery stationed at Delhi were prepared to
join the insurgent troopers from Meerut directly they arrived. The
magazine, with its vast stores of war material, was in the hands of
the King, and the 150,000 inhabitants of the city were ready to assist
in the massacre of the white men and women, and the destruction of
their property.
After careful consideration of all the circumstances of the revolt at
Meerut, I have come to the conclusion that it would have been futile
to have sent the small body of mounted troops available in pursuit of
the mutineers on the night of the 10th May, and that, considering
the state of feeling throughout the Native Army, no action, however
prompt, on the part of the Meerut authorities could have arrested the
Mutiny. The sepoys had determined to throw off their allegiance to the
British Government, and the when and the how were merely questions of
time and opportunity.
[Footnote 1: A metal drinking vessel, which the Hindu religiously
guards against defilement, and to which he clings as a cherished
possession when he has nothing else belonging to him in the world.]
[Footnote 2: European officers.]
[Footnote 3: Each Hindustani regiment had a European sergeant-major
and quartermaster-sergeant.]
[Footnote 4: Rule.]
[Footnote 5: British Government.]
[Footnote 6: Now Lieutenant-General Sir Hugh Gough, V.C., G.C.B.]
[Footnote 7: Tumult.]
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