duties to Meerut, not less than duties of vengeance and of sudden
deliverance for Delhi. True: he had so; and he had means for meeting
all these duties. He had a well-mounted establishment of military
force, duly organized in all its arms. Three-and-twenty hundreds he
had of British, suitably proportioned as to infantry, cavalry, and
artillery--a little army that would have faced anything that Delhi
could at that time have put forward. Grant that Delhi could have
mustered 5000 men: these are three propositions having no doubtful
bearing upon such a fact:--
1. That cheerfully would this little British force have faced any
Asiatic force of 5000 men, which, indeed, it can hardly be necessary
to say, in the face of so large and so transcendent an experience.
2. That the Delhi force, could have reached the amount supposed of
5000 only after a junction with the Meerut mutineers; which junction
it was the main business of the Meerut commander to intercept.
3. That this computation assumes also the whole of the Delhi garrison
to be well affected to the mutineers; an assumption altogether
unwarrantable on the _outside_ of Delhi during the 10th and 11th of
May.
Such were (1) the _motives_ of the commander at Meerut towards a noble
and energetic resolution; such were (2) his _means_.[64]
[Footnote 64: Mr. D. B. Jones comes forward to defend the commandant
of Meerut. How? The last sentence only of his letter has any sort of
reference to the public accusation; and this sentence replies, but not
with _any_ mode of argument (sound or unsound), to a charge perfectly
irrelevant, if it had ever existed--namely, an imaginary charge
against the little army assembled on May 10 at Meerut. The short and
summary answer is, that no such imaginary charge, pure and absolute
moonshine, was ever advanced against the gallant force at Meerut.
Secondly, if it had, such a charge could have no bearing whatever upon
that charge, loudly preferred against the commander of that district.
Thirdly, the charge has been (I presume) settled as regards its truth,
and any grounds of disputation, this way or that, by the
Governor-General. The newspapers have told us, and have not been
contradicted, that Lord Canning has dismissed this functionary for
'_supineness_.']
Thinking of that vile _lacheté_, which surrendered, with a girl's
tameness, absolutely suffered to lapse, without effort, and as if a
bauble, this great arsenal and magazine into the hands of the
revolters, involuntarily we have regarded it all along as a deadly
misfortune; and, upon each periodic mail, the whole nation has
received the news of its non-capture as a capital disappointment.
But, on steadier consideration, apparently all this must be regarded
as a very great error. Not that it could be any error to have wished
for any course of events involving the safety of our poor slaughtered
compatriots. That event would have been cheap at _any_ price. But that
dismal catastrophe _having_ happened, to intercept that bitter wo
having been already ripened into an impossibility by the 11th and 12th
of May, seven-and-forty days before our thoughts at home began to
settle upon India, thenceforwards it became a very great advantage--a
supreme advantage--that Delhi should have been occupied by the
mutineers. Briefly, then, why?
First of all, because this movement shut up within one ring fence the
_élite_ of the rebels (according to some calculations, at least
three-and-twenty thousand of well-armed and well-disciplined men),
that would otherwise have been roaming over the whole face of Bengal
as marauders and murderers. These men, left to follow their own
vagrant instincts, would, it is true, in some not inconsiderable
proportion, have fallen victims to those fierce reactions of rustic
vengeance which their own atrocities would very soon have provoked.
But large concentrated masses would still have survived in a condition
rapidly disposable as auxiliary bodies to all those towns invested by
circumstances with a partisan interest, such as Lucknow, Benares,
Cawnpore, Agra, Gwalior, and Allahabad.
Secondly, Delhi it was that opened the horrors of retribution; mark
what chastisement it was that alighted from the very first upon all
the scoundrels who sought, and fancied they could not fail to find, an
asylum in Delhi. It is probable that hardly one in twenty of the
mutineers came to Delhi without plunder, and for strong reasons this
plunder would universally assume the shape of heavy metallic money.
For the public treasuries in almost every station were rifled; and
unhappily for the comfort of the robbers under the Bengal sun of June
and July, very much of the East Indian money lies in silver--namely,
rupees; of which, in the last generation, eight were sufficient to
make an English pound; but at present ten are required by the evil
destiny of sepoys. Everybody has read an anecdote of the painter
Correggio, that, upon finishing a picture for some monastery, the
malicious monks paid him for it in copper. The day of payment was hot,
and poor Correggio was overweighted; he lay down under his copper
affliction; and whether he died or not, is more than I remember. But
doubtless, to the curious in Correggiosity, Pilkington will tell. For
the sepoys, although _their_ affliction took the shape of silver, and
not of copper, virtually it was not less, considering the far more
blazing sun. Mephistopheles might have arranged the whole affair. One
could almost hear him whispering to each separate sepoy, as he stood
amongst the treasury burglars, the reflection that those _pensions_,
which the kind and munificent English Government granted to their old
age or their infirmities, all over India, raising up memorial trophies
of public gratitude or enlightened pity, never more would be heard of.
All had perished, the justice that gave, the humble merit that
received, the dutiful behaviour that hoped; and henceforwards of them
and of their names, as after the earliest of rebellions, in the book
of life 'was no remembrance.'
Under these miserable thoughts the vast majority of the sepoys robbed
largely, as opportunities continually opened upon them. Then, and
chiefly _through_ their robberies, commenced their chastisement in
good earnest. Every soldier by every comrade was viewed with hatred
and suspicion; by the common labourer with the scrutiny of deep
self-interest. The popular report of their sudden wealth travelled
rapidly; every road, village, house, whether ahead or on their flanks,
became a place of distrust and anxious jealousy; and Delhi seemed to
offer the only safe asylum. Thither, as to a consecrated sanctuary,
all hurried; and their first introduction to the duties of the new
home they had adopted, would be a harsh and insolent summons to the
chances of a desperate _sortie_ against men in whose presence their
very souls sank. On reviewing the circumstances which _must_ have
surrounded this Delhi life, probably no nearer resemblance to a hell
of apostate spirits has ever existed. Money, carried in weighty
parcels of coin, cannot be concealed. Swathed about the person, it
disfigures the natural symmetries of the figure. The dilemma,
therefore, in which every individual traitor stood was, that, if he
escaped a special notice from every eye, this must have been because
all his crimes had failed to bring him even a momentary gain. Having
no money, he had no swollen trousers. For ever he had forfeited the
pension that was the pledge of comfort and respectability to his
family and his own old age. This he had sacrificed, in exchange
for--nothing at all. But, on the other hand, if his robberies had been
very productive and prosperous, in that proportion he became
advertised to every eye, indicated and betrayed past all concealment
to every ruffian less fortunate as a pillager. Delhi must in several
points have ripened his troubles, and showed them on a magnifying
disk. To have no confidential friend, or adviser, or depositary of a
secret, is an inevitable evil amongst a population constitutionally
treacherous. But now in Delhi this torment takes a more fearful shape.
Every fifth or sixth day, when he is sternly ordered out upon his turn
of duty, what shall he do with his money? He has by possibility 40
lbs. weight of silver, each pound worth about three guineas. In the
very improbable case of his escaping the gallows, since the British
Government will endeavour to net the whole monstrous crew that have
one and all broken the _sacramentum militare_, for which scourging
with rods and subsequent strangulation is the inevitable penalty, what
will remain to his poor family? His cottage, that once had been his
pride, will now betray him, as soon as ever movable columns are
formed, and horse-patrols begin to inspect the roads. But, as to his
money, in nineteen cases out of twenty, he will find himself obliged
to throw it away in his flight, and will then find that through three
months of intolerable suffering he has only been acting as steward for
some British soldier.
The private letters and the local newspapers from many parts of India
having now come in, it is possible through the fearful confusion to
read some facts that would cause despair, were it not for two
remembrances: first, what nation it is that supports the struggle;
secondly, that of the six weeks immediately succeeding to the 10th of
September, no two days, no period of forty-eight hours, _can_ pass
without continued successions of reinforcements reaching Calcutta. It
should be known that even the worst sailers among the transports--namely,
exactly those which were despatched from England through the course of
_July_ (not of August)--are all under contract to perform the voyage in
seventy days; whereas many a calculation has proceeded on the old rate
of ninety days. The small detachments of two and three hundreds,
despatched on every successive day of July, are already arriving at
their destination; and the August detachments, generally much stronger
(800 or 900), all sailed in powerful steamers. Lord Elgin arrived at
Calcutta in time to be reported by this mail, with marines (300) and
others (300), most seasonably to meet the dangers and uproars of the
great Mahometan festival. The bad tidings are chiefly these:--
1. The failure of a night-attack upon the Dinapore mutineers by
detachments from two of our British regiments, with a loss of '200
_killed_'; in which, however, there _must_ be a mistake; for the total
number of our attacking party was only 300. On the other hand, there
may have been some call for a consciously desperate effort; and the
enemy, having two regiments, would muster, probably, very nearly 2000
men; for the sepoy regiments are always strong in numbers, and these
particular regiments had not suffered.
2. Much more ominous than these reports, is an estimate of our main
force before Delhi at less than 2000 men. This, unhappily, is not
intrinsically improbable. The force was, by many persons, never
reckoned at more than 6000 or 7000 men; and this, when reduced by
three-and-twenty conflicts (perhaps more), in which the enemy had the
advantage of artillery more powerful than ours, and (what is worse) of
trained artillerymen more numerous, might too naturally come down to
the small number stated.
3. The doubtful condition of Lucknow, Benares, and Agra comes in the
rear of all this to strike a frost into the heart, or would do so,
again I say, if any other nation were concerned.
4. Worse still, because reluctantly unfolding facts that had
previously been known and kept back, is the state of Bombay. When
retreats on board the shipping are contemplated, or at least talked
of, the mere insulated case of Kolapore becomes insignificant.
5. I read a depressing record in the very quarter whence all our hopes
arise. In summing up the particular transports throughout July whose
destination was Calcutta, I find that the total of troops ordered to
that port in the thirty-one days of July was just 6500, and no more.
Every place was rapidly becoming of secondary importance in comparison
of the area stretching with a radius of 150 miles in every direction
from the centre of Allahabad. And the one capital danger is too
clearly this--that, being unable to throw in _overwhelming_ succours,
those inadequate succours, matched against the countless resources of
Hindoo vagrant ruffianism, may, at the utmost, enable us to keep a
lingering hold, whilst endless successions of incomparably gallant men
fall before our own rifles, our own guns, and that discipline of a
cowardly race which we ourselves have taught. We are true to
ourselves, and ever shall be so: that is a rock to build upon. Yet, if
it should appear by January next that no deep impression has then been
made upon revolting India, it will probably appear the best course to
send no more rivulets of aid; but to _combine_ measures energetically
with every colony or outpost of the empire; to call up even the
marines and such sections of our naval forces as have often
co-operated with the land forces (in the Chinese war especially); and
to do all this with a perfect disregard of money. Lord Palmerston
explained very sufficiently why it is that any powerful squadrons of
ships, which would else have rendered such overwhelming succour
against the towns along the line of the Ganges and Jumna, were
unhappily disqualified for action, by the shallows and sand-banks on
those great rivers. But this apology does not stand good as regards
flotillas of gunboats or rafts with a very light draught of water;
still less as regards the seamen and marines.
I conclude with these notices--too painfully entitled to some
attention. Would to heaven they were _not_!
1. Calcutta itself is not by any means in a state of _security_,
either in the English sense of that word (namely, freedom from
danger), or in its old Latin sense of freedom from the _anxieties_ of
danger. All depends upon the prosperity of our affairs at Delhi,
Lucknow, Agra, Cawnpore, and Allahabad. The possibility of a
fanatical explosion, such as that which occurred recently at Patna,
shows the inefficiency of our precautions and pretended police. I
believe that the _native_ associations formed in Calcutta will be of
little use. Either the members will be sleeping at the moment of
outbreak, or will be separated from their arms. We are noble in our
carelessness; our enemy is base, but his baseness, always in alliance
with cunning and vigilance, tells cruelly against us.
2. It may be feared that the Governor-General has in the following
point lamentably neglected a great duty of his place. It must have
been remarked with astonishment, as a matter almost inexplicable, how
it has arisen that so many gallant men, at the head of every regiment,
should have suffered themselves to be slaughtered like sheep in a
butcher's shambles. Surely five-and-twenty or thirty men, in youthful
vigour, many of them capital shots, could easily have shot down 150 of
the cowardly sepoys. So much work they could have finished with their
revolvers. More than one amongst the ladies, in this hideous struggle,
have shot down their two brace of black scoundrels apiece. But the
officers, having the advantage of swords, would have accounted for a
few score more. Why, then, have they not done this?--an act of energy
so natural to our countrymen when thus roused to unforgiving
vengeance. Simply because they have held themselves most nobly, and in
defiance of their own individual interest, to be under engagements of
fidelity to the Company, and obligations of forbearance to the dogs
whom they commanded, up to the last moment of possible doubt. Now,
from these engagements of honour the Governor-General should, by one
universal act (applicable to the three Presidencies) have absolved
them. For it cannot be alleged _now_ for an instant, that perhaps the
regiments might mean to continue faithful. If they _do_ mean this, no
harm will come to any party from the official dispensing order; the
sepoys could suffer by it only in the case of treachery. And, in the
meantime, there has emerged amongst them a new policy of treason,
which requires of us to assume, in mere self-defence, that _all_
sepoys are meditating treason. It is this: they now reserve their
final treason until the critical moment of action in the very crisis
of battle. Ordered to charge the revolters, they discharge their
carbines over their heads; or, if infantry, they blaze away with blank
cartridge. This policy has been played off already eight or nine
times; and by one time, as it happens, too many; for it was tried upon
the stern Havelock, who took away both horses and carbines from the
offenders. Too late it is _now_ for Bengal to baffle this sharper's
trick. But Bombay and Madras, should _their_ turn come after all,
might profit by the experience.
3. For years it has been our nursery bugbear, to apprehend a Russian
invasion on the Indus. This, by testimony from every quarter (the last
being that of Sir Roderick Murchison, who had travelled over most of
the ground), is an infinitely impossible chimera; or at least until
the Russians have colonized Khiva and Bokhara. Meantime, to those who
have suffered anxiety from such an anticipation, let me suggest one
consolation at least amongst the many horrors of the present scenes in
Bengal--namely, that this perfidy of our troops was not displayed
first in the very agony of conflict with Russia, or some more
probable invader.
4. A dismal suggestion arises from the present condition of Bengal,
which possibly it is too late now to regard as a warning. Ravaged by
bands of marauders, no village safe from incursion, the usual culture
of the soil must have been dangerously interrupted. Next, therefore,
comes FAMINE (and note that the famines of India have been always
excessive, from want of adequate carriage), and in the train of
famine, inaudibly but surely, comes cholera; and then, perhaps, the
guiltiest of races will pay down an expiation at which centuries will
tremble. For in the grave of famishing nations treason languishes; the
murderer has no escape; and the infant with its mother sleeps at last
in peace.
* * * * *
_P.S._--The following memoranda, more or less connected with points
noticed in the preceding paper, but received later, seem to merit
attention:--
1. As to the strength of our army before Delhi, it seems, from better
accounts, to be hardly less than 5000 men, of which one-half are
British infantry; and the besieged seem, by the closest inquiries, to
reach at the least 22,000 men.
2. Colonel Edwardes, so well known in connection with Moultan, has
published an important fact--namely, that the sepoys _did_ rely, in a
very great degree, upon the whole country rising, and that their
disappointment and despair are consequently proportionable.
3. A great question arises--How it was possible for the
sepoys--unquestionably not harbouring the smallest ill-will to the
British--suddenly and almost universally to assail them with
atrocities arguing the greatest. Even their own countrymen, with all
their childish credulity, would not be made to believe that they
really hated people with whom they had never had any but the kindest
and most indulgent intercourse. I should imagine that the solution
must do sought in two facts--first, in the deadly ennui and _tædium_
of sepoy life, which disposes them to catch maniacally at any opening
for furious excitement; but, secondly, in the wish to forward the ends
of the conspiracy under Mahometan misleading. Hence, in particular,
the cruelties practised on women and children: for they argued that,
though the British _men_ would face anything in their own persons
before they would relax their hold on India, they would yet be
appalled by the miseries of their female partners and children.
4. It is most unfair, undoubtedly, to attack any man in our present
imperfect state of information. But some neglects are unsusceptible of
after excuse. One I have noticed, which cannot be denied or varnished,
in Lord Canning. Another is this:--Had he offered 10,000 rupees (£1000
sterling) for the head of Nena Sahib, he would have got it in ten
days, besides inflicting misery on the hell-kite.
III.
SUGGESTIONS UPON THE SECRET OF THE MUTINY.
(_January, 1858._)
The first question arises upon the true originators, proximate and
immediate, of the mutiny--who were they? This question ploughs deeper
than any which moves under an impulse of mere historic curiosity; and
it is practically the main question. Knowing the true, instant,
operative cause, already we know something of the remedy;--having sure
information as to the ringleaders, we are enabled at once to read
their motives in the past, to anticipate their policy in the
future;--having the _persons_ indicated, those who first incited or
encouraged the felonious agents, we can shorten the course of public
vengeance; and in so vast a field of action can give a true direction
from the first to the pursuit headed by our Indian police. For that
should never be laid out of sight--that against rebels whose _least_
offence is their rebellion, against men who have massacred by torture
women and children, the service of extermination belongs of right to
executioners armed with whips and rods, with the _lassos_ of South
America for noosing them, and, being noosed, with halters to hang
them.[65] It should be made known by proclamation to the sepoys, that
_de jure_, in strict interpretation of the principle concerned, they
are hunted by the hangman; and that the British army, whilst obliged
by the vast scale of the outrages to join in this hangman's chase,
feel themselves dishonoured, and called to a work which properly is
the inheritance of the gallows; and yet, again, become reconciled to
the work, as the purgation of an earth polluted by the blood of the
innocent.
[Footnote 65: '_To hang them:_'--But with a constant notification
that, _after_ hanging, the criminals would be decapitated: otherwise
the threat loses its sting. It seems to be a superstition universal
amongst Southern Asiatics, unless possibly amongst the Malay race,
that to suffer any dismemberment of the body operates disastrously
upon the fate in the unseen world. And hence, no doubt, it has arisen
that the gallows is not viewed in the light of a degrading punishment.
Immunity from mutilation compensates any ignominy which might else
attend it. Accordingly, we see in China that the innumerable victims
of the present rebellion, captured in the vast province of Quantung by
the cruel Yeh, were all beheaded by the sword in the blood-reeking
privacies of Canton. And two centuries back, when the native dynasty
was overthrown by the last Tartar invasion, the reigning emperor
(having unlimited freedom of choice) ended his career by a halter:
retiring to his orchard, he hanged both himself and his daughter.]