THE MUTINY OF 1857-58.
No one who was within the range of the hurricane of 1857, no one who was
even on its edge, can ever forget it. When we now look back, we marvel
that a single European in that part of India was spared to tell of its
fierce struggle, its sad sights, and its fearful perils. The annals of
the Mutiny are furnished in volumes filled with ample details. Its
causes and consequences have been largely discussed. My narrower and
humbler aim is to describe that terrible outbreak so far, and only so
far, as it came within my own experience and observation. My narrative
will, however, be better understood by stating briefly the causes,
which, in my opinion, led to this great rising against us, and by giving
an outline of its progress before reaching Benares, where we then
resided.
CAUSES OF THE MUTINY.
Our position in India is very peculiar. The history of the world
presents no parallel. A great continent, containing a number of nations,
possessed of an ancient civilization, some of them composed of races
given to war and noted for their prowess, with a population amounting at
present to 253 millions, has been brought under the dominion of a
country of limited extent and limited population like ours, separated
from it by many intervening countries, and accessible only by thousands
of miles of ocean. That continent has not been subjected to tribute, and
then left to its native rulers. Over by far the greater part of India
these rulers have been displaced, and British rule has been established.
Where native rulers remain, they are bound to administer their affairs
in accordance with the views of the Sovereign Power. Over a part of the
Indian continent the rule commenced more than a hundred years ago, and
from decade to decade it has extended till it now embraces its present
vast proportions. It extends beyond India. In the North-West we have
entered into what properly belongs to Afghanistan, and from Burma a
large extent of territory has been taken; so that the east as well as
the west coast of the Bay of Bengal has come under our rule. To all
appearance the rule is as firmly established as if it had come down from
ancient times.
[Sidenote: INDIA CONQUERED BY INDIAN SOLDIERS.]
It would be a great mistake to suppose that India had been conquered for
England by its own people. If they had been left to themselves, no part
of it would now belong to us. The small European force has always been
the backbone of our armies; but in every battle native soldiers have
formed the great majority. The French gave us the example of employing
native soldiers to place their country under European rule. In the
dissolution of the Mogul Empire, thousands of warriors were ready to
fight the battles of any one, European or native, who would pay them
well. The example of the French was followed by the English, till India,
from Cape Comorin to the mountains of the north and the north-west, came
under their sway, to an extent and with a completeness and firmness of
grasp never reached by the Muhammadan power in its palmiest days. Each
Presidency--Bengal, Madras, and Bombay--has had its own native army, in
1857 amounting altogether to 240,000 men. In the Bengal army, by far the
largest of the three, there has never been a single native of Bengal
Proper. It has been entirely composed of north countrymen, to a large
extent of Brahmans, and Chhatrees the old fighting caste of India, who
have entered our service on account of its good pay and good treatment,
though alien from us in everything by which one people can be alien from
another. Many of the native soldiers have been Muhammadans, who are
intensely averse to us on both religious and political grounds. Under
the influence of friendly intercourse and good offices performed to each
other, a kindly feeling often sprung up between officers and men; but as
a body they were mercenary troops fighting for strangers, and the
history of the world furnishes abundant instances of such an army being
as formidable to their employers as to those against whom they have been
employed. In the course of time our native soldiers were more and more
trusted; important places were garrisoned by them, military stores were
entrusted to them; and nothing was more natural than that in the more
ambitious of their number the thought should spring up that the time had
arrived for expelling the stranger, and seizing the power within their
grasp. In thus acting they could make themselves sure of the sympathy of
their countrymen.
[Sidenote: CAUSES OF DISSATISFACTION.]
The Sepoys have been treated in the matter of pay, clothing, and food,
as they never were under native rulers; but they have been subjected to
strict discipline, and they have been cut off from the much-prized
privilege of foraging, or rather plundering. They have at different
times complained loudly of unjust treatment. Alleged breach of promises
of pay, and their being sent to fight our battles in foreign countries
such as Burmah, China, Persia, and Afghanistan, and to parts of India
foreign to them, have been prominent among their causes of complaint.
They have not confined themselves to complaint and remonstrance; they
have again and again broken out into mutiny, which has led to some
regiments being disbanded, and the mutineer leaders being severely
punished. Years before 1857 it was asserted by persons eminently
qualified to judge, like Sir Henry Lawrence, that grievous mistakes had
been committed in the administration of the native army, and that our
safety demanded great changes in its treatment and distribution. When
one reads the statements they made, and the warnings they gave, the
wonder is the mutiny did not sooner occur. Lord Ellenborough, before
leaving India, declared the Sepoys were our one peril in India, and
characteristically proposed we should keep them in humour by keeping
them always fighting.
All other causes of revolt were light compared with the charge often
advanced and believed that we were bent on the destruction of their
religion. From the outbreak at Vellore in 1806, on to the great mutiny
of 1857, this charge was persistently made. The Sepoys were allowed all
the religious liberty compatible with military obedience; they had every
facility for following their religious customs; they were fenced off
from Christian influences as no other part of the community was; they
were solemnly assured again and again their religion would be
scrupulously respected; they had full evidence before their eyes that
with few exceptions their officers had no Christian zeal. Whence, then,
this charge of tampering with their religion? The explanation is to be
found in the character of Hinduism. It is intensely outward. It is a
matter of rite and ceremony, of meat and drink, of clothing and posture.
It may be filched from a man without any act of his own by the act of
another, and he may not be aware till informed that the fatal loss has
been incurred. Something may be introduced into his food which will
deprive him of his religion, and make him an outcast all his days. What
more easy than to introduce a defiling element, such as the blood or fat
of the cow or bullock, of which the Brahman or Rajpoot might unaware
partake? To this intensely outward religion people of these castes are
passionately attached from custom, from superstition, and still more, I
think, from the consideration among themselves and others which caste
purity secures. Their honour, _izzat_, as they call it, is their most
valuable possession. An attack on it is bitterly resented. This honour
is quite consistent with licentiousness, robbery, plunder, and even
murder; but to violate caste by drinking from the vessel of a low-caste
man, or eating with him, would bring with it indelible disgrace. To
partake of the cow, the sacred animal, is the greatest crime which can
be committed, and, if done unconsciously, the greatest calamity.
Notwithstanding the fact that the English as a people had little zeal
for their religion, the Sepoys thought they saw reasons for our wishing
to effect their conversion. If Christians, they would be fitter
instruments for carrying out the designs of their English conquerors.
They would in that case be no longer hampered by class distinctions,
commissariat arrangements could be more easily made, they would have no
objection to serving in foreign lands, and they would become identified
with us. What was more easy than to effect the change by the
manipulation of their food? Their imagination led them to interpret
facts as justifying suspicion, and the supposition was enough to drive
them to revolt.
The Muhammadans in India have become Hinduized to a large extent; they
continually speak of themselves as a caste, and Muhammadan soldiers have
shared with their Hindu comrades in the fear that the English were bent
on destroying their religion. They took the most prominent part in the
mutiny at Vellore in 1806. They were injudiciously required there to put
on the English military hat, to shave their beards, and put on leather
belts, which they maintained were made of pigs' skins; and all this was
done, they said, to turn them into _Topeewalas_, Hatmen--in other words,
into Englishmen and Christians.
[Sidenote: CO-OPERATING CAUSES FOR REVOLT.]
Outside the army there have been causes, co-operating with those within,
in prompting the soldiers to rise against us. Our government is a very
foreign one. There is a national gulf between the rulers and the ruled,
and consequent absence of the sympathy which would draw them to each
other, if they were of the same people. Our government is at once
expensive and strong, requiring a large amount of taxation considering
the resources of the country, and able to enforce its payment. India has
been greatly favoured by high-minded and able rulers; but often, with
the best intentions, from want of thorough acquaintance with the native
character and customs, injustice has at times been done by the decisions
of our courts. Though giving security for person and property, such as
India had never previously enjoyed, our government has borne hardly on
some classes, such as the officials of the native states we have
annexed, the numerous dependents of the abolished native courts, and the
able and enterprising members of the community, for whom no suitable
sphere has been open, as the main prizes in both the military and civil
services are reserved for the English stranger. Then deposed princes
have now and then intrigued with the army to draw it away from its
allegiance.
In the spring of 1856 Lord Dalhousie laid down his office, after his
long and memorable Proconsulship. So little did he anticipate the events
of the coming year, that in the elaborate Minute he wrote on his
retirement he satisfied himself with saying, regarding the native army,
that the condition of the Sepoy could not be improved. Till the closing
months of the year there was no fear of the coming storm. Profound peace
reigned throughout India. War had been declared against Persia, but
hopes were entertained that victory would soon crown our arms, and these
hopes were fulfilled.
THREATENINGS OF THE STORM.
Towards the end of 1856 and early in 1857 there were mutterings of the
storm. A number of men were selected from each regiment to be taught the
use of the Enfield rifle, and for this purpose a new cartridge was
required, which required to be bitten with the teeth. The report spread
like wild-fire, and was firmly believed, that the cartridge was smeared
with bullock's fat to destroy the caste of the Hindus, and with pig's
fat to destroy the caste of the Muhammadans. The Adjutant-General of the
army declared there was not the slightest ground for the statement; but
the more strongly our innocence of design on their religion was
asserted, the more firmly did the Sepoys believe our guilt. Paper was
offered to them, and they were told to prepare cartridges for
themselves; but they said the paper was dangerously glazed, and they
would not accept it. Among other things causing disquietude was an order
that in future all enlisting must engage to go wherever they might be
sent in India or beyond. Hitherto some regiments had been enlisted only
for service in India, and could not be sent out of it except by their
own consent. On every side there were signs of a new era setting in,
which forbode no good to the ancient customs and institutions of the
land. The more aspiring spirits among the Sepoys had evidently formed
the project of uniting the whole army in the attempt to drive the
English into the sea, and secure power and emolument for themselves.
[Sidenote: CIRCUMSTANCES FAVOURABLE TO REVOLT.]
Various things favoured the project. It was well known that many
throughout India hated the English, and were ready to join in their
expulsion. Forts and arsenals were left in their keeping, unchecked by
the presence of European soldiers. The mass of the European force was in
the far North-West, in the Punjab, and towards the border of
Afghanistan, as if there the danger lay. The Sepoys saw that if they
could combine and act in concert they could with ease strike us to the
ground. Then the prophecy was widely spread that our rule was speedily
to come to an end. It had commenced with our victory at Plassey on June
23, 1757; and when the sun of June 23, 1857, should set, not one English
face would be seen in India. Mysterious cakes, resembling our bannocks,
were sent on from village to village, like the fiery cross in Scotland
in former days, to prepare the people for great and startling events.
Early in 1857 the ferment among the soldiers was spreading among large
classes of the people.
During the cold weather of 1856-57 I spent some weeks in travelling with
my family in the country to the east of Benares, on the Calcutta road.
We left the high-road and made our way, as I have already mentioned, to
Rohtas Gurh, a famous abandoned fortress on the top of a hill. In some
of the villages to which I went to preach the Gospel the bitterest
feeling was shown, especially by young men, towards our rule and
religion. In one place the feeling manifested was so bitter that I
thought they were prepared to lay violent hands on me. I remember
remarking more than once, as I returned to the tent weary and worn out
in body and mind, that a strange feeling was coming over the people,
which I had never previously observed, and that I feared dark days were
approaching.
THE OUTBREAK AND PROGRESS OF THE MUTINY.
At Berhampore, more than a hundred miles above Calcutta, and
Barrackpore, a few miles from it, the Sepoys broke into open mutiny,
which led to the leaders being executed and their regiments disbanded.
The outbreak at these places made a painful impression on the entire
English community, and created deep anxiety. That anxiety was increased
by the reports received from day to day of the mutinous spirit shown by
the Sepoys all over the country. We were told of midnight meetings,
insolent conduct, and incendiary fires. The most sanguine could not but
fear that we were entering a calamitous period. The most hopeful were
those officers who had been long with native regiments, and were sure
that whatever others might do, their men would remain staunch.
[Sidenote: THE RISING AT MEERUT.]
At length, on May 10th, the storm burst out at Meerut in all its fury.
I cannot enter on a detailed account of the events of that sad,
memorable day. I can only in a few words mention what took place. On the
previous day 87 men of a native cavalry regiment had, before the whole
garrison of the place, been put in irons for repeated persistent
disobedience. Though there was a large European force a native guard was
put over the prisoners, who were confined in a place close to their
comrades. No precaution was taken against their rescue. On the evening
of the next day, Sunday, as the Europeans were gathering for Church, the
Sepoys rose, murdered their officers, hastened to the parade ground,
liberated their imprisoned comrades, opened the jails, raised all the
villainy of the native town, massacred the Christians whom they met,
men, women, and children, set houses on fire, and then set out for
Delhi, the great old imperial city. There they were welcomed by the
titular king and his family, and there, as at Meerut, they murdered all
the Christians on whom they could lay hold. By the mismanagement of the
large European force at Meerut, a small portion of which was well able
to cope with the Sepoys, they did not arrive on the scene of revolt till
the Sepoys had done all the mischief on which they were bent, and had
set out for Delhi.
That 10th of May we remember vividly. We had had our usual afternoon
service with the native Christians. In the evening we walked out in the
garden. The moon was shining in an unclouded sky. Hot though the weather
was we enjoyed our quiet walk, talked of the services of the day, and
the threatening appearance of affairs. Little did we think of the
terrible scenes which were then being enacted at Meerut.
The outbreak at Meerut awoke as with a peal of the loudest thunder the
entire English community in India, and especially in Northern India, to
a sense of imminent peril. We had hitherto lived in the enjoyment of
profound security. There had been uneasiness on different occasions,
when our power seemed imperilled by the disasters which overtook us in
Afghanistan in 1841-42, and by the life and death struggle we had
afterwards with the Sikhs. Our enemies were then watching for our fall,
and the reasons for uneasiness at those times were stronger than the
community generally were aware of. There had been also at different
times uneasiness in reference to the Sepoys, but they came to be
regarded as wilful children, who might be troublesome, but who would do
us no harm. In our own country, among our own people, we could not have
felt safer than we ordinarily did. At the travelling season we went
about, pitched our tents in solitary spots, for weeks together perhaps
did not see a white face, and were treated not only with courtesy, but
generally with profound deference, as if we belonged to a superior race.
The people in their obsequious fashion, and with their idolatrous views,
would almost have given us divine honours. All at once we realized
ourselves as living in the midst of a dense alien population. Our own
trusted soldiers, serving under our banners, receiving our pay, and
sworn to defend us, had risen against us; and with them as declared
enemies, in whom could we confide? Our obsequious servants of yesterday
might become our murderers to-day. We felt ourselves at bay, surrounded
by a host who might any moment fall on us and destroy us.