victims had become cold in their graves. And the probability is--that,
when the blunder was first perceived, the dreadful consequences of
that blunder, and the legal relations of those consequences, were not
immediately discerned. What convinces us of this is, that the first
impulse of the king and his advisers, upon discovering through a
secret communication made by Anne the existence of a precontract, and
the consequent vitiation of her marriage with the king, had been, to
charge upon Anne a new and scandalous offence. Not until they had
taken time to review the case, did they become aware of the injustice
that had been perpetrated by their own precipitance: and as this was
past all reparation, probably it was agreed amongst the few who were
parties to the fatal oversight, that the safest course was to lock up
the secret in darkness. But it is singular to watch the fatality of
error which pursued this ill-starred marriage. Every successive
critic, in exposing the errors of his predecessor, has himself
committed some fresh blunder. Bishop Burnet, for instance, first of
all in a Protestant age indicated the bloody mistakes of papal lawyers
in 1536; not meaning at all to describe these mistakes as undetected
by those who were answerable for them. Though hushed up, they were
evidently known to their unhappy authors. Next upon Burnet, down comes
Mr. Froude. Burnet had shaped his criticism thus: 'If,' he says, 'the
queen was not married to the king, there was no adultery.' Certainly
not. But, says Mr. Froude, Burnet forgets that she was condemned for
conspiracy and incest, as well as for adultery. Then thirdly come we,
and reverting to this charge of forgetfulness upon Burnet, we say,
Forgets! but how was he bound to remember? The conspiracy, the incest,
the adultery, all alike vanish from the record exactly as the
character of wife vanishes from Anne. With any or all of these crimes
Henry had no right to intermeddle. They were the crimes of one who
never had borne any legal relation to him; crimes, therefore, against
her own conscience, but not against the king in any character that he
was himself willing permanently to assume.
On this particular section of Henry's reign, the unhappy episode of
his second wife, Mr. Froude has erred by insufficient rigour of
justice. Inclined to do more justice than is usually done to the king,
and not blind to the dissolute character of Anne, he has yet been
carried, by the pity inalienable from the situation, to concede more
to the pretences of doubt and suspense than is warranted by the
circumstances of the case. Anne Boleyn was too surely guilty up to the
height of Messalina's guilt, and far beyond that height in one
atrocious instance.
Passing from _that_ to the general pretensions of this very eloquent
and philosophic book, we desire to say--that Mr. Froude is the first
writer (first and sole) who has opened his eyes to comprehend the
grandeur of this tremendous reign.
THE ENGLISH IN INDIA.
In now reproducing the three series of notes on the Indian Mutiny
written by DE QUINCEY for me in _Titan_, I must advert briefly to the
agony of apprehension under which the two earlier chapters were
written. I can never forget the intense anxiety with which he studied
daily the columns of _The Scotsman_ and _The Times_, looking wistfully
for tidings from Roorkhee where his daughter FLORENCE was shut up. The
father's heart was on the rack until news arrived that the little
garrison was saved.
The following paragraph from a letter written to his daughter EMILY on
Sunday, December 1st, 1857, will give some idea of the tension of that
terrible suspense:--
'INDIA.--Up to the last mail but one (or briefly in its Latin form, up
to the penultimate mail), I suffered in my nervous system to an extent
that (except once, in 1812) had not experimentally been made known to
me as a possibility. Every night, oftentimes all night long, I had the
same dream--a vision of children, most of them infants, but not all,
the _first_ rank being girls of five and six years old, who were
standing in the air outside, but so as to touch the window; and I
heard, or perhaps fancied that I heard, always the same dreadful word
_Delhi_, not then knowing that a word even more dreadful---
Cawnpore--was still in arrear. This fierce shake to my nerves caused
almost from the beginning a new symptom to expose itself (of which
previously I never had the faintest outline), viz. somnambulism; and
now every night, to my great alarm, I wake up to find myself at the
window, which is sixteen feet from the nearest side of the bed. The
horror was unspeakable from the hell-dog Nena or Nana; how if this
fiend should get hold of FLORENCE or her baby (now within seventeen
days of completing her half year)? What first gave me any relief was a
good firm-toned letter, dated _Rourkee_,[56] in the public journals,
from which it was plain that _Rourkee_ had found itself able to act
aggressively.'
[Footnote 56: Anglo-Indian authorities seem to spell this word in four
different ways.--H.]
DE QUINCEY had reason to be proud of his son-in-law, COLONEL BAIRD
SMITH, whose varied and brilliant services, culminating at the siege
of Delhi, are written in the pages of SIR JOHN KAYE'S and COLONEL
MALLESON'S _History of the Sepoy War_.
On that fateful day at Delhi, when so much hung upon the decision as
to whether the British should hold the ground they had won in the
first assault, it is not too much to say that 'the splendid obstinacy'
of BAIRD SMITH practically saved India.
I throw together a few passages from the thrilling pages where the
story is told--sufficient to enable the reader who comes fresh to the
subject, to understand what manner of man this gallant engineer was
who made his mark on British India.
* * * * *
Rúrki (or Roorkhee) was the head-quarters of the Engineering Science
of the country. When the news came of the Delhi massacre, BAIRD SMITH
instantly made 'admirable arrangements for the defence of the great
engineering depot, in which he took such earnest and loving interest.
Officially, he was superintendent of irrigation in the north-western
provinces--a most useful functionary, great in all the arts of peace,
and with a reputation which any man might be proud to possess. But the
man of much science now grew at once into the man of war, and Rúrki
became a garrison under his command. Not an hour was lost.'
* * * * *
His timely express to MAJOR CHARLES REID to bring his men on by the
Ganges Canal route instead of by forced marches was an early evidence
of his combination of dash and sound judgment. REID said, that it
saved the place and the lives of the ladies and children.
From the hour that he made his appearance before Delhi as Chief
Engineer, a succession of incidents stand on record which show his
skill and courage. On the first occasion of BRIGADIER-GENERAL WILSON
consulting him professionally, 'he threw all the earnestness of his
nature into a great remonstrance against the project of withdrawal. He
told the General that to raise the siege would be fatal to our
national interests. 'It is our duty,' he said, 'to retain the grip
which we now have upon Delhi, and to hold on like Grim Death until the
place is our own.' He argued it ably. WILSON listened, and was
convinced.
In that supreme moment at the storming of Delhi, when the repulse of
two columns, the heavy losses, and the great strength of the place
caused the General to hesitate whether to continue the operations,
England had cause to feel thankful for the tenacity and daring of two
of her sons:--
'From this fatal determination GENERAL WILSON was saved by the
splendid obstinacy of BAIRD SMITH, aided by the soldier-like instincts
of NEVILLE CHAMBERLAIN.... The General undoubtedly believed that the
safety of the army would be compromised by the retention of the
positions they had gained. Fortunately, BAIRD SMITH was at his elbow.
Appealed to by GENERAL WILSON as to whether he thought it possible for
the army to retain the ground they had won, his answer was short and
decisive, "We _must_ do so!" That was all. But the uncompromising
tone, the resolute manner, the authority of the speaker, combined to
make it a decision against which there was no appeal. GENERAL WILSON
accepted it.... It is not too much to affirm, that a retrograde
movement would, for the time, have lost India.'
* * * * *
In spite of the sufferings attendant on a severe wound, the
indomitable spirit of this brave soldier carried him through all
trials until India was practically saved. Then, shattered by his many
exertions, the breathing time came too late. His career is thus summed
up in the following inscription on his tomb in Calcutta Cathedral:--
'COLONEL RICHARD BAIRD SMITH of the Bengal Engineers, Master of the
Calcutta Mint, C.B. and A.D.C. to the Queen, whose career, crowded
with brilliant service, cut short at its brightest, was born at
Lasswade on the 31st of December, 1818. He went to India in 1836.
Already distinguished in the two Sikh wars, his conduct on the
outbreak of revolt in 1857 showed what a clear apprehension, a stout
heart, and a hopeful spirit could effect with scanty means in crushing
disorder. Called to Delhi as chief engineer, his bold and ready
judgment, his weighty and tenacious counsels, played a foremost part
in securing the success of the siege and England's supremacy. The
gathered wisdom of many years spent in administering the irrigation of
Upper India, trained him for his crowning service--the survey of the
great famine of 1861, the provision of relief, and the suggestions of
safeguards against such calamities. Broken by accumulated labours, he
died at sea, Dec. 13, 1861, aged scarcely 43 years. At Madras, where
his Indian career began, his body awaits the resurrection.'
His great work, the _Report on Italian Irrigation_, published with
maps and plans in 1852, remains a monument of his engineering ability.
COLONEL BAIRD SMITH also published:--
(1) _Agricultural Resources of the Punjab._ London:
1849. 8vo.
(2) _The Cauvery, Kistnah, and Godavery; being a
report on the works constructed on these rivers for the
Irrigation of the provinces of Tanjore, Guntoor,
Masulipatam, and Rajahmundry, in the Presidency of
Madras._ London: 1856. 8vo.
(3) _A Short Account of the Ganges Canal, with a
description of some of the Principal Works._ 40 pp.
Thomason College Press, Roorkee: 1870. 8vo.--H.
I.
HURRIED NOTICES OF INDIAN AFFAIRS.
(_September, 1857._)
From the foundations of the earth, no case in human action or
suffering has occurred which could less need or less tolerate the aid
of artificial rhetoric than that tremendous tragedy which now for
three months long has been moving over the plains of Hindostan. What
in Grecian days were called _aporreta_ ([Greek: aporrhêta]), things
not utterable in human language or to human ears--things
ineffable--things to be whispered--things to dream of, not to
tell[57]--these things amongst high-caste Brahmims, and amongst the
Rajapoots, or martial race of heroes; have been the common product of
the passing hour.[58] Is this well? Is this a fitting end for the
mighty religious system that through countless generations has
overshadowed India? Yes, it _is_ well: it _is_ a fitting end for that
man-destroying system, more cruel than the bloody religions of Mexico,
which, for the deification of the individual, made hopeless Helots of
the multitude. Henceforward CASTE _must_ virtually be at an end. Upon
_caste_ has our Bengal army founded a final treason bloodier and
larger than any known to human annals. Now, therefore, mere instincts
of self-preservation--mere shame--mere fiery stress of necessity, will
compel our East India Directory (or whatsoever power may now under
parliamentary appointment inherit their responsibilities) to
proscribe, once and for ever, by steadfast exclusion from all
possibility of a martial career--to ruin by _legal_ degradation and
incapacities, all Hindoo pretensions to places of trust, profit, or
public dignity which found themselves upon high caste, as Brahmins or
Rajapoots. Yes, it _is_ well that the high-_caste_ men, who existed
only for the general degradation of their own Hindoo race in humbler
stations, have themselves severed the links which connected them with
the glory (so unmerited for _them_) of a nobler Western nationality.
Bought though it is by earthly ruin, by torment, many times by
indignities past utterance inflicted upon our dear massacred sisters,
and upon their unoffending infants, yet for that very reason we must
now maintain the great conquest so obtained. There is no man living so
base--no, there is not a felon living amongst us, who could be
persuaded to repeat the act of the Grecian leader Agamemnon--namely,
to sacrifice his innocent daughter, just entering the portals of life
in its most golden stage, on the miserable pretence of winning a
_public_ benefit; masking a diabolical selfishness by the ostentation
of public spirit. Yet if some calamity, or even some atrocity, _had_
carried off the innocent creature under circumstances which involved
an advantage to her country, or to coming generations, the most loving
father might gradually allow himself to draw consolation from the
happy consequences of a crime which he would have died to prevent.
Even such a mixed necessity of feeling presses upon ourselves at
present. From the bloody graves of our dear martyred sisters,
scattered over the vast plains of India, rises a solemn adjuration to
the spiritual ear of Him that listens with understanding. Audibly this
spiritual voice says: O dear distant England! mighty to save, were it
not that in the dreadful hour of our trial thou wert far away, and
heardest not the screams of thy dying daughters and of their perishing
infants. Behold! for us all is finished! We from our bloody graves, in
which all of us are sleeping to the resurrection, send up united
prayers to thee, that upon the everlasting memory of our hell-born
wrongs, thou, beloved mother, wouldst engraft a counter-memory of
everlasting retribution, inflicted upon the Moloch idolatries of
India. Upon the pride of _caste_ rests for its ultimate root all this
towering tragedy, which now hides the very heavens from India. Grant,
therefore, O distant, avenging England--grant the sole commensurate
return which to us _can_ be granted--us women and children that trod
the fields of carnage alone--grant to our sufferings the virtue and
lasting efficacy of a _lutron_ ([Greek: lutron]), or ransom paid down
on behalf of every creature groaning under the foul idol of caste.
Only by the sufferance of England can that idolatry prosper. Thou,
therefore, England, when Delhi is swept by the ploughshare and sown
with salt, build a solitary monument to us; and on its base inscribe
that the last and worst of the murderous idolatries which plagued and
persecuted the generations of men was by us abolished; and that by
women and children was the pollution of caste cleansed from the earth
for ever!
[Footnote 57: 'A sight to dream of, not to tell.'--_Coleridge._]
[Footnote 58: Twenty-three and twenty-eight thousand of these two
orders we have in our Bengal army.]
* * * * *
Now let us descend into the circumstantialities of the case,
explaining what may have been obscure to the general reader. By which
term _general reader_ is meant, that reader who has had no reason for
cultivating any acquaintance whatever with India; to whom, therefore,
the whole subject is unbroken ground; and who neither knows, nor
pretends to know, the merest outline of our British connection with
India; what first carried us thither; what accidents of good luck and
of imminent peril raised us from a mere commercial to a political
standing; how we improved this standing by prodigious energy into the
position of a conquering state; prospered rapidly by the opposition
which we met; overthrew even our European competitors, of whom the
deadliest were the French; pursued a difficult war with an able
Mahometan upstart, Hyder Ali--a treacherous and cruel prince; next
with his son, Tippoo Sahib, a still more ferocious scoundrel, who, in
his second war with us, was settled effectually by one thrust of a
bayonet in the hands of an English soldier. This war, and the
consequent division of Tippoo's dominions, closed the eighteenth
century. About 1817 we undertook the great Mahratta war; the
victorious termination of which placed us, after sixty years of
struggle, in the supreme rank amongst Indian potentates. All the rest
of our power and greatness accrued to us by a natural and spontaneous
evolution of consequences, most of which would have followed us as if
by some magnetic attraction, had we ourselves been passive. No
conquering state was ever yet so mild and beneficent in the spirit of
its government, or so free from arrogance in its demeanour. An
impression thoroughly false prevails even amongst ourselves, that we
have pursued a systematic course of usurpations, and have displaced
all the _ancient_ thrones of Hindostan. Unfortunately for this
representation, it happens that all the leading princes of India whose
power and rank brought them naturally into collision with ourselves,
could not be ancient, having been originally official dependants upon
the great Tartar prince, whose throne was usually at Agra or Delhi,
and whom we called sometimes the Emperor, or the Shah, or more often
the _Great Mogul_. During the decay of the Mogul throne throughout the
eighteenth century, these dependent princes had, by continual
encroachments on the weakness of their sovereign, made themselves
independent rulers; but they could not be older than the great Mogul
Shah himself, who had first created them. Now the Mogul throne was
itself a mere modern creation, owing its birth to Baber, the
great-grandson of Tamerlane. But Baber, the eldest of these Tartar
princes, synchronised with our English Henry VIII. In reality, there
was nothing old in India that could be displaced by us; at least
amongst the Mahometan princes. Some ancient Hindoo Rajahs there were
in obscure corners, but without splendour of wealth or military
distinction; and the charge of usurpation was specially absurd, since
we pre-eminently were the king-makers, the king-supporters, the
king-pensioners, in Hindostan; and excepting the obscure princes just
mentioned, almost every Indian prince, at the time of our opening
business in the political line, happened to be a usurper. We ourselves
made the Rajah of Oude into a king; we ourselves more than once saved
the supreme Shah (_i. e._ the Great Mogul) from military ruin, and for
many a year saved _him_ and _his_ from the painful condition of
insolvency. But all this is said in the way of parenthesis. In another
number, a sketch of our Indian Empire, in its growth and early
oscillations, may be presented to the reader, specially adapted to the
use of those whose reading has not lain in that direction. Now let us
return to the great domineering question of the hour--the present
tremendous revolt on the part of seventy or eighty thousand men in our
Bengal Presidency.
This mutiny we propose to notice briefly but searchingly under three
heads--first, in its relation to the mutineers themselves; next, in
its relation to ourselves; but, subdividing that question, we will
assign the second head to the consideration of its probable bearing on
our political credit and reputation; whilst the third head may be
usefully given to the consideration of its bearing on our pecuniary
interests, and our means of effectual reparation for the ruins left
behind by rebellion, and by the frantic spasms of blind destruction.