SPREAD OF DISAFFECTION IN MAY.
The narrative has now arrived at a stage when some kind of
classification of times and places becomes necessary. There were special
reasons why Delhi and Lucknow should receive separate attention,
connected as those two cities are with deposed native sovereigns chafed
by their deposition; but other cities and towns now await notice, spread
over many thousand square miles of territory, placed in various
relations to the British government, involved in various degrees in
mutinous proceedings, and differing much in the periods at which the
hostile demonstrations were made. Two modes of treatment naturally
suggest themselves. The towns might be treated topographically,
beginning at Calcutta, and working westward towards the Indus; this
would be convenient for reference to maps, but would separate
contemporaneous events too far asunder. Or the occurrences might be
treated chronologically, beginning from the Meerut outbreak, and
advancing, as in a diary, day by day throughout the whole series; this
would facilitate reference to dates, but would ignore local connection
and mutual action. It may be possible, however, to combine so much of
the two methods as will retain their advantages and avoid their defects;
there may be groups of days and groups of places; and these groups may
be so treated as to mark the relations both of sequence and of
simultaneity, of causes and of co-operation. In the present chapter, a
rapid glance will be taken over a wide-spread region, to shew in what
way and to what degree disaffection spread during the month of May. This
will prepare us for the terrible episode at one particular
spot—Cawnpore.
To begin, then, with Bengal—the fertile and populous region between the
Anglo-Indian city of Calcutta and the sacred Hindoo city of Benares; the
region watered by the lower course of the majestic Ganges; the region
inhabited by the patient, plodding, timid Bengalee, the type from which
Europeans have generally derived their idea of the Hindoo: forgetting,
or not knowing, that Delhi and Agra, Cawnpore and Lucknow, exhibit the
Hindoo character under a more warlike aspect, and are marked also by a
difference of language. A fact already mentioned must be constantly
borne in mind—that few Bengalees are (or were) in the Bengal army: a
population of forty millions furnished a very small ratio of fighting
men.
Although not a scene of murder and atrocity during the Revolt, Calcutta
requires a few words of notice here: to shew the relation existing
between the native and the European population, and the importance of
the city as the head-quarters of British India, the supreme seat of
legislation and justice, the residence of the governor-general, the last
great city on the course down the Ganges, and the port where more trade
is conducted than in all others in India combined.
Calcutta stands on the left bank of the Hoogly, one of the numerous
streams by which the Ganges finds an outlet into the sea. There are no
less than fourteen of these streams deep enough for the largest craft
used in inland navigation, but so narrow and crooked that the rigging of
vessels often becomes entangled in the branches of the trees growing on
the banks. The delta formed by these mouths of the Ganges, called the
Sunderbunds, is nearly as large as Wales; it is little else than a
cluster of low, marshy, irreclaimable islands, very unhealthy to the few
natives living there, and left almost wholly to tigers, wild buffaloes,
wild boars, and other animals which swarm there in great numbers. The
Hoogly is one of the few really navigable mouths of the Ganges; and by
this channel Calcutta has free access by shipping to the sea, which is
about a hundred miles distant. The city, extending along the river four
or five miles, covers an area of about eight square miles. A curved line
nearly bounds it on the land-side, formed by the Mahratta ditch, a
defence-work about a century old. Beyond the ditch, and a fine avenue
called the Circular Road, the environs are studded with numerous suburbs
or villages which may be considered as belonging to the city: among
these are Nundenbagh, Bahar-Simla, Sealdah, Entally, Ballygunge,
Bhowaneepore, Allipore, Kidderpore, Seebpore, Howrah, and Sulkea. The
three last are on the opposite or west bank of the river, and contain
the dock-yards, the ship-building establishments, the railway station,
the government salt-warehouses, and numerous extensive manufactories.
The approach to the city from the sea presents a succession of
attractive features. First, a series of elegant mansions at a bend in
the river called Garden Reach, with lawns descending to the water’s
edge; then the anchorage for the Calcutta and Suez mail-steamers; then
the dock-yards; next the canal junction, the arsenal and Fort William.
Above these is the Chowringhee, once a suburb, but now almost as closely
built as Calcutta itself, containing the Esplanade, the Town Hall, the
Government House, and many European residences. ‘Viewed from Garden
Reach,’ says Mr Stocqueler, ‘the _coup d’œil_ is one of various and
enchanting beauty. Houses like palaces are studding the bank on the
proper left of the river, and a verdure like that of an eternal summer
renovates the eye, so long accustomed to the glitter of the ocean. Anon,
on _your_ left, appears the semi-Gothic Bishop’s College; and in front
of you, every moment growing more distinct, are beheld a forest of
stately masts, a noble and beautiful fortress, a thousand small boats,
of shapes new and undreamed of by the visitant, skimming over the
stream; the larger vessels of the country, pleasant to look upon even
for their strange dis-symmetry and consequent unwieldiness; the green
barge or budgerow, lying idly for hire; and the airy little bauleahs,
with their light venetianed rooms.’ All this relates to the portion of
the city lying south or seaward of the Chandpaul Ghat, the principal
landing-place. Northward of this stretches a noble strand, on which are
situated the Custom-house, the New Mint, and other government offices.
It must be noted that, although the chief British city in India,
Calcutta in ordinary times contains no less than _seventy times_ as many
natives as English—only six thousand English out of more than four
hundred thousand inhabitants. Even if Eurasians (progeny of white
fathers and native mothers) be included, the disparity is still
enormous; and is rendered yet more so by the many thousands of natives
who, not being inhabitants, attend Calcutta at times for purposes of
trade or of worship. Many wild estimates were made a few years ago
concerning the population of Calcutta, which was sometimes driven up
hypothetically to nearly a million souls; but a census in 1850
determined the number to be four hundred and seventeen thousand persons,
living in sixty-two thousand houses and huts. The Hindoos alone exceed
two hundred and seventy thousand. Circumstances of site, as well as the
wishes and convenience of individuals, have led the Europeans to form a
community among themselves, distinct from the native Calcutta. Many
natives, it is true, live in the southern or British town; but very few
British live in the northern or native town. The latter differs little
from Indian towns generally, except in the large size of the dwellings
belonging to the wealthy inhabitants. The southern town is European in
appearance as in population; it has its noble streets, sumptuous
government offices, elegant private residences surrounded with
verandahs. On the esplanade is situated Fort William (the official name
given to Calcutta in state documents), one of the strongest in India; it
is octagonal, with three sides towards the river, and the other five
inland; and it mounts more than six hundred guns. Whatever force holds
Fort William may easily reduce Calcutta to ashes. The public buildings,
which are very numerous, comprise the following among others—the
Government House, that cost £130,000; the Town Hall, in the Doric style;
the Supreme Court of Judicature; the Madrissa and Hindoo Colleges; the
Martinière, an educational establishment founded by Martine the
Frenchman, who has been mentioned in connection with Lucknow; the
Metcalfe Hall; the Ochterlony Monument; the Prinsep Testimonial; the
Calcutta Asiatic Society’s Rooms; St Paul’s Cathedral, the finest
Christian church in India; the Bishop’s Palace and College; the European
Female Orphan Asylum; the Botanic Gardens. The Episcopalians, the
National and the Free Churches of Scotland, the Independents, the
Baptists, the Roman Catholics, the Armenians, the Jews, the Greeks—all
have places of worship in Calcutta. The native temples and mosques are
of course much more numerous, amounting to two hundred and fifty in
number.
Concerning the inhabitants, the English comprise the Company’s civil and
military servants, a few members of the learned professions, merchants,
retail-dealers, and artisans. Of the native Hindoos and Mohammedans,
exclusive of the degraded castes of the former, it is supposed that
one-third are in the service of the English, either as domestic
servants, or as under-clerks, messengers, &c. A majority of the
remainder pick up a living on the street or the river—carrying
palanquins as bearers, carrying parcels as coolies, rowing boats,
attending ships, &c. The native artisans, shopkeepers, and
market-people, fill up the number.
It will be remembered, from the details given in Chapter II., that the
authorities at Calcutta, during the first four months of the year, were
frequently engaged in considering the transactions at Dumdum,
Barrackpore, and Berhampore, connected with the cartridge grievances.
These did not affect the great city itself, the inhabitants of which
looked on as upon events that concerned them only remotely. When the
middle of May arrived, however, and when the startling news from Meerut
and Delhi became known, an uneasy feeling resulted. There was in
Calcutta a kind of undefined alarm, a vague apprehension of some hidden
danger. At that time there were six companies of the 25th Bengal
infantry, and a wing of the 47th Madras infantry, barracked on the
esplanade between the Coolie Bazaar and the fort. They were without
ammunition. There were, however, detachments of two other regiments
acting as guards in the fort, provided with ten rounds of ammunition per
man. It came to light that, on the 17th of May, the men of the 25th
asked the guards privately to be allowed to share this ammunition,
promising to aid them in capturing the fort during the following night.
This treason was betrayed by the guards to the town-major, who at once
ordered bugles to sound, and preparations to be made for defending the
fort; the drawbridges were raised, the ladders withdrawn from the
ditches, additional guards placed upon the arsenal, European sentries
placed at various points on the ramparts, and armed patrols made to
perambulate the fort during the night. The refractory sepoys, thus
checked, made no attempt to carry out their nefarious project. An
express was at once sent off to Dumdum for the remaining portion of her
Majesty’s 53d regiment, to join their comrades already at Calcutta.
Although the immense value of these English troops was at once felt, the
inhabitants of Calcutta were thrown into great excitement by the
rumoured outbreak; they talked of militia corps and volunteer corps, and
they purchased muskets and powder, rifles and revolvers, so rapidly,
that the stores of the dealers were speedily emptied.
Two demonstrations of loyalty—or rather two sets of demonstrations—were
made on this occasion, one from the Christian inhabitants, and one from
the natives. The mutineers found head-quarters not quite suited for
their operations; order was soon restored; and then all parties came
forward to state how faithful, contented, and trustworthy they were. It
is not without interest to glance at some of these demonstrations. One
was from the Calcutta Trade Association, which held a meeting on the
20th of May. The resolution agreed to was to the effect that ‘This body
do send up to government a statement that they are prepared to afford
the government every assistance in their power towards the promotion of
order and the protection of the Christian community of Calcutta, either
by serving as special constables or otherwise, in such manner as may
appear most desirable to government; and at the same time suggesting to
government that their services should be availed of in some manner, as
they deem the present crisis a most serious one, and one in which every
available means should be brought into action for the suppression of
possible riot and insurrection.’ The answer given by the
governor-general in council to the address sent up in virtue of this
resolution is worthy of note; shewing, as it does, how anxious he was to
believe, and to make others believe, that the mutiny was very partial,
and that the sepoy army generally was sound at heart. He thanked the
Trade Association for the address; he announced that he had no
apprehension whatever of riot or insurrection amongst any class of the
population at Calcutta; he asserted his possession of sufficient means
to crush any such manifestation if it should be made; but at the same
time he admitted the prudence of civilians enrolling themselves as
special constables, ready for any emergency. In reference, however, to
an opinion in the address that the sepoys generally exhibited a mutinous
spirit, he expressed uneasiness at such an opinion being publicly
announced. ‘There are in the army of this presidency many soldiers, and
many regiments who have stood firm against evil example and wicked
counsels, and who at this moment are giving unquestionable proof of
their attachment to the government, and of their abhorrence of the
atrocious crimes which have lately been perpetrated in the Northwestern
Provinces. It is the earnest desire of the governor-general in council
that honourable and true-hearted soldiers, whose good name he is bound
to protect, and of whose fidelity he is confident, should not be
included in a condemnation of rebels and murderers.’ Alas, for the
‘honourable and true-hearted soldiers!’
Another movement of the same kind was made by the Freemasons of
Calcutta—a body, the numbers of which are not stated. They passed a
resolution on the same day, ‘That at the present crisis it is expedient
that the masonic fraternity should come forward and offer their services
to government, to be employed in such manner as the governor-general may
deem most expedient.’
The Armenians resident in the city met on the following day, and agreed
to a series of resolutions which were signed by Apcar, Avdall, Agabeb,
and others of the body—declaratory of their apprehension for the safety
of Calcutta and its inhabitants; their sincere loyalty to the British
government; their grateful appreciation of its mild and paternal rule;
and their fervent hope that the energetic measures adopted would suffice
to quell the insurrectionary spirit: concluding, ‘We beg most
respectfully to convey to your lordship in council the expression of our
willingness and readiness to tender our united services to our rulers,
and to co-operate with our fellow-citizens for maintaining tranquillity
and order in the city.’ The Armenians, wherever settled, are a peaceful
people, loving trade better than fighting: their adhesion to the
government was certain.
The French inhabitants in like manner held a meeting, and sent up an
address to the governor-general by the hands of Consul Angelucci. They
said: ‘Viewing the dangers that, from one moment to another, may menace
life and property at Calcutta, all the French resident in the city unite
with one accord, and place themselves at the disposal of your excellency
in case of need; beseeching that their services may be accepted for the
common good, and as a proof of their loyalty and attachment towards her
Majesty, the Queen of England.’
It is more interesting, however, in reference to such a time and such a
place, to know in what way the influential native inhabitants comported
themselves on the occasion. The meetings held, resolutions passed, and
addresses presented, were remarkable for their earnestness, real or
apparent. Although Viscount Canning gladly and promptly acknowledged
them as valuable testimonials; yet the subsequent lying and treachery in
many quarters were such that it is impossible to decide how much or how
little sincerity was involved in declarations of loyalty. There was a
body of Hindoo gentlemen at Calcutta, called the British Indian
Association. The committee of the Association held a meeting on the 22d
of May, and the secretary, Issur Chunder Singh, forwarded an address
from the committee to the government. The address asseverated that the
atrocities at Meerut and Delhi had been heard of with great concern;
that the committee viewed with disgust and horror the excesses of the
soldiery at those stations; and that such excesses would not meet with
countenance or support from the bulk of the civil population, or from
any reputable or influential classes among them. The committee recorded
‘their conviction of the utter groundlessness of the reports which have
led a hitherto faithful body of the soldiers of the state to the
commission of the gravest crimes of which military men or civil subjects
can be guilty; and the committee deem it incumbent on them on the
present occasion to express their deep abhorrence of the practices and
purposes of those who have spread those false and mischievous reports.’
Finally, they expressed their belief that the loyalty of the Hindoos,
and their confidence in the power and good intentions of the government,
would be unimpaired by ‘the detestable efforts which have been made to
alienate the minds of the sepoys and the people of the country from
their duty and allegiance to the beneficent rule under which they are
placed.’
Three days later, a meeting was held of Hindoo persons of influence
generally, at Calcutta, without reference to the British Indian
Association; and the chairman of this meeting, Bahadoor Radhakant Rajah,
was commissioned to forward a copy of resolutions to the
governor-general. These resolutions were similar in character to those
passed by the Association; but two others were added of very decided
character: ‘That this meeting is of opinion that, should occasion
require, it would be the duty of the native portion of her Majesty’s
subjects to render the government every aid in their power for the
preservation of civil order and tranquillity; and that, with a view to
give an extensive circulation to the proceedings of this meeting,
translations of the same into the vernacular dialects of the country
shall be printed and distributed amongst the native population.’
Another Hindoo manifestation was remarkable for the mode in which the
intentions of the persons concerned were proposed to be carried out. A
meeting was held on the 23d, of ‘some young men, at the premises of
Baboo Gooroo Churn Dey, Bhowanipore, Chuckerbaria, in the suburbs of
Calcutta: to consider the best means of keeping the peace in the said
suburban town at this crisis of panic caused by some mutinous
regiments.’ These ‘young men,’ who appointed Baboo Gooroo Churn Dey and
Essan Chunder Mullick as secretary and assistant-secretary, threw into
their deliberations an abundance of youthful enthusiasm not to be found
in the resolutions of their seniors. Their plan—not expressed in, or
translated into, very good English—was: ‘That some of the members will
alternately take round at every night, with the view of catching or
detecting any wrong-doer that may be found in the work of abetting some
such malicious tales or rumours, as the town will be looted and
plundered by the sepoys on some certain day, and its inhabitants be cut
to pieces; and will, by every means in their power, impress on the minds
of timid and credulous people the idea of the mightiness of the power of
the British government to repel aggression of any foreign enemy, however
powerful and indomitable, or put down any internal disturbance and
disorder.’ They announced their success in obtaining many ‘strong and
brave men’ to aid them in this work.
The Mohammedans of Calcutta were a little behind the rest of the
inhabitants in time, but not in expressed sentiment, concerning the
position of public affairs. On the 27th, many of the leading men of that
religion held a meeting; one was a deputy-magistrate; two were pleaders
in the sudder or native courts of law; others were moulvies, moonshees,
hadjis, agas, &c.; and all signed their names in full—such as Hadji
Mahomed Hashim Ishphahanee, and Aga Mahomed Hassan Kooza Kenanee.
Nothing could be more positive than some of the assertions contained in
the resolutions passed by this meeting: ‘We subjects are well aware that
the members of the British government, from the commencement of their
dominion in Hindostan, have repeatedly declared and made known their
determination not to interfere with the religion or religious
observances of any of their subjects; and we repose entire faith in this
declaration, and assert, that up to the present time, a space of nearly
one hundred years, our religion has never been interfered with. A number
of us having left our homes, have found a dwelling and asylum under this
government, where we live in peace and safety, protected by the equity
and fostering care of the British government, and suffering no kind of
injury or loss. As we have ever lived in safety and comfort under the
British rule, and have never been molested or interfered with in
religious matters; we therefore, with the utmost eagerness and
sincerity, hereby determine, that in case of necessity we will serve the
government to the utmost of our abilities and means.’ In true oriental
form the resolutions ended, in allusion to the governor-general, ‘May
his prosperity increase!’
What _could_ Viscount Canning say to all this? How could he, in that
early stage of the commotions, but believe in the sincerity of these
men: and, believing, to thank them for their expression of loyalty and
support? His official reply, in each case, conveyed in pointed terms his
conviction that the disaffection among the sepoys was only local and
temporary. He could not at that time foresee how severely this
conviction would be put to the test.
The hostility to the governor-general, manifested at a later date by
some of the English inhabitants of Calcutta, will be noticed in its due
place.
Leaving Calcutta, the reader is invited to direct his attention to towns
and districts north and northwest, following the course of the Hoogly
and the Ganges, up to the busy scenes of mutiny and warfare. The whole
district from Calcutta to Benares _by land_ is singularly devoid of
interest. The railway is open through Burdwan to Raneegunge; but thence
to the great Hindoo capital there is scarcely a town or village worthy
of note, scarcely one in which the mutineers disturbed the peaceful
occupations of the inhabitants.
Three military stations on the Hoogly—Dumdum, Barrackpore, and
Berhampore—all concerned, as we have seen, in the cartridge
disturbances—remained quiet during the month of May, after the
disbandments. One inquiry connected with those occurrences, not yet
adverted to, must here be noticed. The conduct of Colonel S. G. Wheler,
commanding the 34th regiment B. N. I.,[13] occupied much attention on
the part of the Calcutta government, during and after the proceedings
relating to the disbanding of the seven companies of that regiment at
Barrackpore. Rumours reached the government that the colonel had used
language towards his men, indicating his expectation that they would be
converted to Christianity, and that he had addressed them on religious
subjects generally. In the usual epistolary formalism of routine, the
secretary to the government was requested to request Major-general
Hearsey to request Brigadier Grant to request Colonel Wheler to furnish
some reply to those rumours. The substance of the colonel’s reply was
contained in these words: ‘During the last twenty years and upwards, I
have been in the habit of speaking to the natives of all classes, sepoys
and others, making no distinction, since there is no respect of persons
with God, on the subject of our religion, in the highways, cities,
bazaars, and villages—not in the lines and regimental bazaars. I have
done this from a conviction that every converted Christian is expected,
or rather commanded, by the Scriptures to make known the glad tidings of
salvation to his lost fellow-creatures: our Saviour having offered
himself as a sacrifice for the sins of the whole world, by which alone
salvation can be secured.’ He quoted from the Epistle to the Romans to
prove that a Christian must necessarily be a better subject to any state
than a non-Christian. He declared, however, that he had not given the
sepoys cause for believing that any proselyting violence would be used
against their own religion. Viscount Canning, passing over in silence
the Scriptural phraseology used by Colonel Wheler, wished to ascertain
whether the colonel’s religious conversations had been held with the men
of the 34th regiment as well as with other natives: seeing that the
critical subject at that particular time was the dogged suspicion of the
sepoys of that regiment on matters affecting their faith. In a second
letter, Colonel Wheler adopted a still more decidedly evangelical tone.
He stated that it was his custom to address _all_ natives, whether
sepoys or not, on religious matters. ‘I have told them plainly that they
are all lost and ruined sinners both by nature and by practice, like
myself; that we can do nothing to save ourselves in the way of
justifying ourselves in the sight of God. Our hearts being sinful, all
our works must consequently be sinful in His sight; and therefore there
can be no salvation by works, on which they are all resting and
depending.’ This homily, singular as forming part of a military reply to
a military question, was carried to a considerable length. On matters of
plain fact, Colonel Wheler stated that it was most certain that he had
endeavoured by argument and exhortation to convert sepoys as well as
others to Christianity; that he was in the habit of enforcing by the
only standard which he could admit to be valid, objections concerning
‘the efficacy of their own works of washing in the Ganges, proceeding on
pilgrimage, worshipping all kinds of creatures instead of the Creator,
and other methods of man’s invention.’ Finally, he announced his
determination to adhere to the same policy, even if his worldly position
were injured thereby: taking shame to himself for his past lukewarmness
as a soldier of Christ.
The whole of the members of the Supreme Court at Calcutta at once
decided that an officer, holding Colonel Wheler’s views of duty, ought
not to remain in command of a native regiment, especially at such a
critical period. The question was not, whether that officer was a good
Christian, anxious to communicate to others what he himself fervently
believed; but whether the black gown was not more suitable to him than
the red coat, in such a country and at such a time.
The native troops at Barrackpore and Chittagong, after the disbandment
of the mutinous corps, made professions of loyalty and fidelity to the
government, concerning the sincerity of which it is now exceedingly
difficult to judge. One theory is, that the men were designing
hypocrites from the first; but the frequent examples of wavering and
irresolution, afforded during the progress of the mutiny, seem to shew
rather that the sepoys were affected by the strength of the temptation
and example at each particular time and place. Be this as it may, some
of the petitions and addresses deserve notice. Towards the close of May
a petition, written in the Persian character (much used in India), was
prepared by the native officers of the 70th regiment B. N. I., stationed
at Barrackpore, and presented to their commander, Colonel Kennedy. In
the names of themselves and the sepoys they said: ‘It is reported that
European troops are going up to Delhi and other places, to coerce the
mutinous and rebellious there; and we wish to be sent with them also. In
consequence of the misconduct of these traitors and scoundrels,
confidence in us is weakened, although we are devoted to government; and
we therefore trust that we may be sent wherever the European troops go;
when, having joined them, we will, by bravery even greater than theirs,
regain our good name and trustworthiness. You will then know what really
good sepoys are.’ Colonel Kennedy, in a letter to Major-general Hearsey,
expressed his full belief that the men were sincere in their
protestations; and added, that hitherto he had always been satisfied
with the regiment. So important did this manifestation appear to
Viscount Canning, that he went to Barrackpore in order to thank the men
in person. He appeared before them on parade, on the 27th, and said,
among other things: ‘Men of the 70th, I will answer your petition. You
have asked to be sent to confront the mutineers of Delhi. You shall go.
In a few days, as soon as the arrangements can be made for your
progress, you shall proceed to the northwest.’ He expressed his
conviction that they would keep their promise to vie with the Europeans
in fidelity and bravery; and added: ‘You have another duty to perform.
You are going where you will find men, your brothers in arms, who have
been deluded into the suspicion against which _you_ have kept firm, that
the government has designs against their religion or their caste. Say to
them that you at least do not credit this; that you know it to be
untrue; that for a hundred years the British government has carefully
respected the feelings of its Indian subjects in matters of caste and
religion.’
Arrangements were immediately made for sending this faithful, or
apparently faithful, regiment to districts where it might render useful
service. As there was an insufficient supply of steamers available, the
government resolved to send the regiment the whole distance from
Barrackpore to Allahabad by country boats on the Ganges—an excessively
protracted voyage of eight hundred miles, as the reader is already
aware. When the men were about to start, they expressed to Colonel
Kennedy a wish that the new Enfield rifle should be served out to them.
They declared themselves entirely satisfied with the explanations
concerning the cartridges; and they added, in a written petition to
which the names of twelve subadars and jemadars were appended: ‘We have
thought over the subject; and as we are now going up the country, we beg
that the new rifles, about which there has been so much said in the army
and all over the country, may be served out to us. By using them in its
service, we hope to prove beyond a doubt our fidelity to government; and
we will explain to all we meet that there is nothing objectionable in
them: otherwise, why should we have taken them? Are we not as careful of
our caste and religion as any of them?’ All the native officers of this
regiment, so far as can be judged from the names appended to the
petition, were Hindoos. When the 70th started to the northwest, every
effort was made by the government to set the unhappy cartridge troubles
wholly at rest, and to enlist the services of the sepoys of that
regiment in diffusing among their compatriots a knowledge of the real
facts. Orders, instructions, memoranda, circulars were brought into
requisition to explain—that the new rifle fired nine hundred yards,
against the two hundred yards’ range of the old musket; that it was
lighter than the musket; that its great range and its lightness caused
it to be introduced into the Anglo-Indian army; that the new
rifle-bullets, requiring machinery for their manufacture, were sent out
from England in a finished state; that a few cartridges for those
bullets were in the first instance sent out ready prepared with a
lubricant, but that the Indian government resolved not to issue them to
the native troops, in deference to their religious scruples; that the
cartridge-paper had long been, and would continue to be, made at
Serampore, without any admixture of grease; that every native regiment
would be allowed to lubricate its cartridges with any suitable substance
preferred by the men; and that the practice of biting off the ends of
the cartridges might be wholly dispensed with. In short, everything that
could be done, was done, to remove a suspicion unsound in its origin,
and pernicious in its continuance.
Another regiment, the 34th B. N. I., adopted nearly the same course as
the 70th. The larger portion of this regiment, it will be remembered,
was at Barrackpore at the time of the cartridge troubles; but the rest
was at Chittagong. The sepoys in this last-named detachment came forward
with a very pointed declaration of their loyalty. Captain Dewaal, in
command of that detachment, assembled his men one day towards the end of
April, and told them how shamefully their companions had acted at
Barrackpore, and how much disgrace had thereby been brought upon the
regiment. Two days afterwards, an address or petition was presented to
him, signed by the subadars and havildars in the names of all; in which
regret was expressed for the conduct of the mutineers at Barrackpore.
‘By a careful performance,’ the petitioners said, ‘of our duties, we
have gained a reputation for fidelity to government. These men have
deprived us of it. We well know that the government will not interfere
with our religion. We hope that the government will consider us as
faithful as ever; and we pray that this petition may be sent to the
governor-general, in order that his lordship may know the state of our
feelings.’ Three or four weeks later, when this remnant of the regiment
had been removed to Barrackpore, the men made another profession of
their loyalty. In a petition to their commander, they said: ‘Some
evil-disposed men of the regiment have deprived us of the reputation for
loyalty which we have ever held. They have received the fruits of their
misconduct by being disbanded. We that remain are willing to serve
against the mutineers at Delhi, and are anxious to recover our lost
name. We pray that the government will ever regard us as faithful
soldiers.’
Two further examples of a similar kind were presented, one by the 43d
and another by the 63d regiments B. N. I. About the end of May, the
commandant of the first of these two regiments at Barrackpore, received
a petition signed by the native commissioned officers, praying that the
regiment might be allowed to proceed against the mutineers at Delhi—a
wish that had been previously expressed to him on parade. Nearly at the
same time Captain Pester, commanding the 63d at Berhampore, received a
petition signed by the whole of the native officers on parade, intended
to be forwarded to the governor-general; and, this petition being
afterwards read in the native language to the whole regiment, the sepoys
unanimously expressed their concurrence in the sentiments it conveyed.
The petitioners said: ‘We have this day heard on parade the order issued
by your lordship consequent on the petition forwarded by the native
officers and sepoys of the 70th regiment of native infantry. On hearing
the same, we were greatly rejoiced; for, in truth, all the men of that
regiment have behaved as becomes loyal and faithful soldiers, and your
lordship has in every way been pleased with them. Now do we also all
petition that we may be numbered among the good and trustworthy soldiers
of the state, as we have always been; and we are prepared and ready,
with heart and hand, to go wherever, and against whomsoever you may
please to send us, should it even be against our own kinsmen.’
The governor-general could do no other than receive these
demonstrations. Whether he acceded to the request for permission to
‘march against the mutineers,’ depended necessarily on the military
arrangements of the time; whether he fully believed the protestations,
may perhaps be doubted, although no disbelief was expressed.
Happily for Bengal, it was affected by few of the disturbances that
agitated the more western provinces. Consulting a map, we shall see that
the banks of the Hoogly and the Lower Ganges are thickly studded with
towns; and it may here at once be stated, that the peaceful industry of
these towns was very little interrupted during the month of May. Tracing
upwards from Calcutta, we meet with Dumdum, Barrackpore, and Serampore,
the first two of which experienced a lull after the storm. Serampore was
once the _Alsatia_ of Calcutta, a place of refuge for schemers,
insolvent debtors, and reckless adventurers; but the Company bought it
from the Danish government, to which it had belonged, and the Baptist
missionaries helped to civilise it; it is now a clean cheerful town,
with a large paper-manufactory. Higher up is the once flourishing but
now decayed town of Chandernagore, one of the few places in India still
belonging to the French. Near this is Chinsura, held by the Dutch until
1825, but now a flourishing settlement belonging to the Company,
provided with an extensive military depôt for Europeans, with a
magnificent hospital and barracks. Then we come to Hoogly, a town
bearing the same name as the river on whose banks it stands: a busy
place, with many civil and educational establishments. Further north is
Plassy, the place near which Clive fought the great battle that
virtually gave India to the British. Beyond this is Berhampore, which,
very refractory in March and April, had become tractable and obedient in
May. Next we meet with Moorshedabad and its suburb Cossimbazar. Once the
capital of Bengal when a Mohammedan dominion, Moorshedabad contained a
splendid palace belonging to the nawab; but though no longer possessed
of this kind of greatness, the city is commercially very important, as
standing on the great highway, or rather water-way, from Calcutta to the
northwest. All the places above named are situated either on the Hoogly
or on the Bhagruttee, those two rivers combining to form the most
convenient outlet from the Ganges to the sea.
The Ganges itself, too—the majestic, far-famed, sacred Ganges—was little
disturbed by commotions in May throughout the lower part of its course.
Rajmahal, Bhagulpore, Curruckpore, Monghir, Behar, Futwah, Patna,
Hajeepoor, Dinapoor, Chupra, Arrah, Bishunpore, Buxar, Ghazeepore—all
lie on or near the Ganges between the Hoogly and Benares. Some of these
places are centres of commerce for the opium-trade; some are busy with
the trading in rice grown in neighbouring districts; others are
shipping-places for corn and other agricultural produce; while all
regard the Ganges as an invaluable channel, affording intercourse with
the rich districts of the west, and with the great focus of authority
and trade at Calcutta. Such of these towns as were involved in trouble
in later months of the year, will be noticed in the proper chapters; of
the others, this narrative is not called upon to treat. One fact,
however, may be mentioned in connection with Dinapoor. So early in the
year as the middle of February, the Calcutta authorities wrote to the
commander at that town, apprising him that a messenger was known to have
been sent to the native regiment at Dinapoor, from some men of the 2d
Bengal grenadiers, inciting them to mutiny. Major-general Lloyd promised
to look out sharply for the messenger, but candidly expressed a doubt
whether the astute native would suffer himself to be caught.
Benares may conveniently be described at once; for, whether disturbed or
not by mutineers, it is so remarkably situated as to lie in the line of
route of all commerce, all aggression, all military movement, between
Calcutta and the upper provinces, whether by road, by rail, or by water.
Regarded in this light, its possession and security are, and were in an
especial degree during the mutiny, objects of the highest importance.
This renowned city stands on the left bank of the Ganges, about four
hundred and twenty miles by road from Calcutta, and seventy-four from
Allahabad. The magnificent river, half a mile wide in the rainy season,
forms a kind of semicircular bay in front of the city, which has thus
three miles of river-frontage. Among the chief characteristics of
Benares are the ghats or flights of fine broad freestone steps, giving
access to the river: mostly very solid in construction, and in some
cases highly decorated. So numerous are they, that they extend almost in
a continuous line along the river’s banks, interrupted here and there by
temples. ‘Upon these ghats,’ says a lively traveller, ‘are passed the
busiest and happiest hours of every Hindoo’s day: bathing, dressing,
praying, preaching, lounging, gossiping, or sleeping, there will be
found. Escaping from the dirty, unwholesome, and confined streets, it is
a luxury for him to sit upon the open steps and taste the fresh air of
the river; so that on the ghats are concentrated the pastimes of the
idler, the duties of the devout, and much of the necessary intercourse
of business.’ Artists in India have delighted to portray the beauty and
animation of this scene; but they cannot, if they would, reveal the
hideous accompaniments—the fakeers and ascetics of revolting appearance,
‘offering every conceivable deformity which chalk, cow-dung, disease,
matted locks, distorted limbs, and repulsive attitudes of penance, can
shew.’
Benares, beyond any other place in India, perhaps, is studded with
religious structures. Thirty years ago the Moslem mosques were more than
three hundred in number, while the Hindoo temples exceeded a thousand.
The pinnacles of the Hindoo pagodas combine to give a very picturesque
appearance to the city, viewed from a distance. Large as the number is,
the Benares temples, as has been sarcastically observed, are not too
many, for religion is ‘the staple article of commerce, through which the
holy city flourishes and is enriched.’ The Mohammedan mosques, mostly
situated in the northeast quarter of the city, are generally elegant
little edifices crowned by small slender minarets, each standing in a
garden planted with tamarinds. Most of them have been constructed on the
sites, and with the materials, of demolished Hindoo temples. By far the
grandest is the great mosque of Aurungzebe, built by that emperor on the
site of a temple of Vishnu, which he destroyed to signalise the triumph
of Islamism over Brahminism. It rises from the platform above the
Madhoray Ghat. The minars or minarets, admired for their simplicity and
boldness, taper from eight feet in diameter at the bottom to seven at
the top; and though so slender, they are carried up to a height of a
hundred and fifty feet, and have each an interior staircase from bottom
to top. The streets of Benares have the usual oriental character of
narrowness, crookedness, and dirtiness; they are mere alleys, indeed,
that will admit no wheel-carriages; nor can beasts of burden pass
without sorely disturbing pedestrians. The houses are more lofty than in
most Indian cities, generally from three to six stories high; and as the
upper stories usually project beyond the lower, the narrow street is
almost closed in above: nay, in some cases, the inmates of one house can
walk over to the opposite tenement through the upper windows. The houses
are, in the better streets, built of stone, small-windowed and gaily
painted. During the hot season the citizens are much accustomed to sleep
in screened enclosures on the roof, open to the sky above, and to the
night-breezes around. There are somewhat under two hundred thousand
inhabitants, who live in about thirty thousand houses.
[Illustration:
Ghat on the Ganges.
]
Benares is a religious, not a military city. The district around was at
a very remote period the seat of an independent Hindoo state, founded,
according to native tradition, twelve hundred years before the Christian
era. It subsequently formed part of the dominions of the Rajpoot
sovereigns. Then began the Mussulman rule, and Benares became a
dependent province under the Moguls. The nawab-viziers of Oude, when the
Mogul power was declining, seized Benares; and during some of the
political jugglery of the year 1775, the territory was transferred to
the East India Company, by whom it has ever since been held. But under
whatever dynasty it has been placed, Benares has from remote ages been
known as the sacred city of the Hindoos, where all that is remarkable,
all that is abominable, in Brahminism, flourishes. It has been described
as the Jerusalem of Hindostan—swarming with religious teachers,
devotees, mendicants, and sacred bulls. To wash in the Ganges in front
of Benares, to die in that city, are precious privileges to the Hindoo.
Some writers have given the inhabitants a bad character in what concerns
loyalty to their present British rulers. ‘Benares is one of the most
unsafe and rebellious cities in Hindostan. It once successfully opposed
a house-tax imposed on the people by the British government. There was
also recently a strong commotion when the magistrate attempted to
equalise the weights and measures. To shew the hostility of the Hindoos
of Benares to the English, it may be mentioned that when we lay before
Bhurtpore in 1826, no less than thirty thousand sabres were sharpened at
the cutlers’ in expectation of our repulse.’ If this statement be well
founded, it does indeed denote a perilous state of feeling at the time
in question.
Benares, we have said, is not a military city; but so important a place
could not safely be left unguarded. Accordingly a British cantonment has
been built at Secrole, two or three miles to the northwest. Secrole
contains not only the barracks and huts for soldiers, but various civil
establishments, and the residences of most of the British population of
Benares. The cantonment consists of the usual buildings belonging to the
head-quarters of a military division of the Company’s army, and capable
of accommodating three or four regiments; it lies on both sides of a
small stream called the Burnah Nuddee, crossed by the great road from
Benares to Allahabad. On the side of the cantonment furthest from the
city are the bungalows of the various officials and European residents:
substantially built, well fitted and appointed, and surrounded by
pleasant gardens. There are, among the public buildings, a Christian
church and chapel, a court of justice, the treasury, the jail, and a
mint—the last named never yet appropriated to its destined purpose.
Secrole is thus, in effect, the British portion of Benares.
Another military station, subordinate to Benares, Chunar or Chunargur,
is about sixteen miles distant; indeed, being nearly midway between
Benares and Mirzapore, it may be an auxiliary to either in time of need.
Chunar is a town of about twelve thousand inhabitants, standing on a
plateau or elevated cliff close to the Ganges. It was regarded as a
stronghold more than three centuries ago; and, like many other places in
the neighbourhood, belonged to the great Mogul; from whom, in lapse of
time, it was wrested by the ambitious nawab-viziers of Oude; until at
length it fell into the hands of the British. It was for some years the
Company’s principal artillery depôt for the Northwestern Provinces. The
fortified portion of the town, on the heights, is surrounded by a
rampart a little over a mile in circuit, and from ten to twenty feet
high, guarded by towers, and in its turn completely commanding the river
and its banks. The space enclosed by this wall or rampart, however, has
very little of a military aspect; part is open grass-land; part occupied
by bungalows and gardens of Europeans; part by the governor’s house, the
hospital, and the state prison; and part by the ancient Hindoo palace, a
massy vaulted edifice presenting little of its original splendour. An
article of Hindoo faith is recorded in connection with a slab of black
marble in a small square court of this palace; to the effect that ‘the
Almighty is seated personally, though invisibly, on this stone, for nine
hours each day, removing during the other three hours to Benares;’ so
that the fort, in sepoy belief, can only be taken between the hours of
six and nine in the morning. Considered in a military sense, the fort is
by no means strong; nevertheless the steepness of the ascent would
render storming difficult; and to increase this difficulty, the garrison
was wont in former times to keep a number of large rudely made
stone-cylinders at hand, to roll down upon a besieging force. The
citadel or stronghold is in the northeastern part of the enclosure; it
is mounted with several cannon, and has a bomb-proof magazine. The
native town, consisting principally of two-storied stone-houses, is
spread over a slope lying eastward of the fortifications. The English
dwellings, and the station for invalid soldiers, are lower down the
slope.
As soon as the Revolt began, the safety of Benares became an object of
much solicitude to the governor-general at Calcutta, to Sir Henry
Lawrence at Lucknow, and indeed to all the Company’s servants: seeing
that the maintenance of free communication would greatly depend on the
peaceful condition of that city. We have seen that telegrams passed
almost daily between Benares and the other chief cities in May; intended
partly to facilitate the transport of reinforcements to the northwest,
and in part also to insure the tranquillity of Benares itself. About the
middle of the month the military commandant had to announce that there
had been some excitement in the 37th native infantry; that a Sikh
regiment had been sent on to Mirzapore and Allahabad; that the 13th
irregular cavalry were at Sultanpore; and that his position was rather
weak. On the 18th he telegraphed for aid: stating that ‘if one hundred
European infantry could be spared for duty here, it would restore
confidence, and make Benares more secure, so as to maintain
communication with the northwest.’ General Lloyd was asked whether he
could spare that much-coveted reinforcement—a hundred Europeans—from
Dinapoor. About the same time the commandant was directed to defend
Chunar fort with European invalids and veterans, and to keep the native
infantry regiment at hand in Benares. Mr Tucker, civil commissioner,
writing to the government on the same day, spoke of the ‘bold policy’
which had been adopted when the 37th shewed disaffection; the Europeans
remaining in their houses, and acting so as neither to exhibit nor
inspire distrust—instead of attempting to escape. On the 19th,
arrangements were completed for sending a company of her Majesty’s 84th
from Dumdum to Benares, in five separate parties of twenty-one each, in
transit-carriages. By the 19th, the irregular cavalry had been brought
in from Sultanpore, and every precaution taken to guard against a
surprise—insomuch that the Europeans at neighbouring stations were
looking to Benares as a sort of stay and support. More than once
allusion was made, by the civil commissioner at that city, to the
tactics of serenity, as a medium between severity and fright. One of the
telegrams told that ‘Brigadier Ponsonby carries out Colonel Gordon’s
quiet policy of shewing no fear or distrust; not a muscle is moved.’
Until towards the close of the month, Benares was included in the
military command of which Dinapoor was the centre; but as the distance
between the two towns is a hundred and fifty miles, Brigadier Ponsonby
received permission to act for himself, irrespective of control from
General Lloyd.
The 31st of May found Benares and its neighbourhood at peace. How close
at hand were days of violence and bloodshed—a future chapter will shew.
We have now left Bengal, both in its original and in the Company’s
acceptation of that term, and have arrived within the territories
grouped together as the Northwest Provinces. From Benares and Chunargur,
as a glance at the map will shew, the course of the Ganges, of the great
trunk-road, and of the railway in process of construction, brings us to
Mirzapore—a town not actually thrown into rebellion during the month of
May, but placed between two foci of inflammable materials, Benares and
Allahabad, and liable at any time to be inflamed by them. Mirzapore is
on the right bank of the Ganges, which is half a mile wide at this spot,
and is crossed by a ferry in the absence of a bridge. It is a great
commercial city, with about eighty thousand inhabitants; the emporium of
the cotton trade of Bundelcund and the adjacent provinces; not rich in
Mohammedan or Hindoo antiquities or splendour, associated with few
military events, but wealthy on account of its industry. The Company’s
military cantonment, as in so many other parts of India, is two or three
miles out of the town; indeed, this is a fact that must be borne in mind
throughout, as a necessary condition to the understanding of events
connected with the Revolt.
Approaching now the Jumna regions, the plot thickens and the characters
increase in number. We come to that rich country, the Doab, watered on
the one side by the Ganges and on the other by the Jumna, with Oude and
Rohilcund on the north, Bundelcund and Scindiah’s territory on the
south. We find a considerable number of large and important
towns—Lucknow, Fyzabad, Bareilly, Allahabad, Futtehpoor, Cawnpore,
Furruckabad, Gwalior, Bhurtpore, Agra, Delhi, Meerut—in the immediate
vicinity of one or other of these two rivers. The Company’s military
stations are far more thickly posted in that region than in any other
part of India—a source of weakness in the midst of apparent strength;
for as the native troops were predominant in all these places, their
numbers became a manifest evil as soon as a mutinous spirit appeared
among the men.
This chapter being mainly intended, as already explained, to shew how
remarkably the materials for explosion were accumulating during the
month of May, to burst forth with frightful violence in June, we shall
glance rapidly and touch lightly here on many of the towns situated
westward of Mirzapore, in order to place the reader in a position to
understand what will follow—treating of sudden outrages and strange
escapes in some few cases, and in others of a deceitful calm before a
storm.
Allahabad, in a military sense, is a more important post than any
between it and Calcutta: indeed, there are few to equal it throughout
India. This is due principally to the fact that it lies at the junction
of the two great rivers Ganges and Jumna, the northern side being washed
by the one, the southern by the other. It occupies the most eastern, or
rather southeastern point of the rich and fertile Doab; it lies in the
direct water-route from Calcutta to both of the upper rivers; it is a
main station on the great trunk-road from Calcutta to the Punjaub, and
on the East India Railway now in course of construction; and a bridge
will carry that railway across the Jumna close to it. No wonder,
therefore, if the eyes of all were directed anxiously towards Allahabad
during the mutinies and consequent struggles. The fort and arsenal are
among the largest and finest in India. The fort rises direct from the
point of confluence of the two rivers, and is on that side nearly
impregnable. It is a mile and a half in circuit, five-sided, stone
built, and bastioned. Two of the sides, near the water, are old, and
weak as against a European force; the other three are modern, and, with
their bastions and ravelins, command the city and the country beyond.
Bishop Heber remarked that Allahabad fort had lost in grandeur what it
had gained in strength: the lofty towers having been pruned down into
bastions and cavaliers, and its high stone ramparts obscured by turf
parapets and a sloping external glacis. The principal gate of the fort,
surmounted by a dome with a wide hall beneath, and surrounded by arcades
and galleries, forms a very majestic ornament. The arsenal, situated
within the fort, is one of great magnitude, containing (before the
Revolt) arms for thirty thousand men, an immense park of artillery, and
the largest powder-magazine in Upper India. Altogether, it is a place of
great strength, probably impregnable to natives, and fitted to bear a
prolonged and formidable siege. In a part of the fort overlooking the
Jumna is an ancient and spacious palace, formerly fitted up as
residences for the superior European officers, but latterly used for
state prisoners. From a balcony perched near the summit of a tower on
which the windows of one of the chambers open, a scene is presented, of
which European travellers in India speak with much admiration. The
spectator looks down upon a grove of mango-trees, flanking a fine
esplanade, and peopled with innumerable ring-necked paroquets. Above, on
pediment, pinnacle, and turret, others of the feathered tribe build
their nests and plume their wings. Along the thickly wooded shores on
the north or Allahabad side of the Jumna, buildings of various degrees
of interest are seen interspersed with the small islands which speckle
the river; while the opposite or Bundelcund shore forms a noble
background to the picture. In the days before the Revolt, the European
troops of the garrison were accommodated in well-constructed barracks
within the fort; while the military cantonment for the native troops lay
northwest of it.
The city of Allahabad, westward of the fort, and on the Jumna shore, is
scarcely worthy of its magnificent situation. It contains seventy
thousand inhabitants; but its streets and houses are poor; nor do the
mosques and temples equal those in many other parts of Hindostan, though
the gardens and tomb of Sultan Khosroo and his serai are almost
unequalled in India. There is a particular spot, outside the fort, where
the actual confluence of the two great rivers is considered to take
place; and this presents the liveliest scene in the whole city. One
traveller tells of the great numbers of pilgrims of both sexes, anxious
to bathe in the purifying waters; and of devotees who, causing earthen
vessels to be fastened round their waists or to their feet, proceed in a
boat to the middle of the stream, and precipitate themselves into the
water—supposing that by this self-immolation they secure eternal bliss.
Another states that when a pilgrim arrives here—Benares, Gyayah, and
Allahabad being frequently included in the same pilgrimage—he sits down
on the brink of the river, and causes his head and body to be so shaved
that each hair may fall into the water—for the sacred writings promise
the pilgrim a million years’ residence in heaven for every hair thus
deposited—and that, after shaving and bathing, he performs the obsequies
of his deceased ancestors. The Brahmins are the money-makers at these
spots; each has his little platform, standing in the water, where he
assists in the operations by which the pilgrim is supposed to become
holy. Skinner describes the whole scene as a kind of religious fair.
[Illustration:
City and Fort of ALLAHABAD.
]
When the events at Meerut and Delhi became known at Allahabad, the
native troops shewed much excitement. One of them, the 6th Bengal
infantry, drew down encomiums for fidelity, in offering to march and
fight against the insurgents; whether all the officers believed the men,
may be doubted; but the chief authorities did not deem themselves
justified in shewing distrust. Thanks came from Calcutta for the
manifestation of loyalty made by the regiment—a loyalty destined to be
of brief duration. A detachment of her Majesty’s 84th reached Allahabad
on the 23d of May, sent up from Calcutta by the laboriously tedious
methods lately described. There being some disturbance expected at the
jail, the detachment was sent into the fort, and held in readiness to
proceed to the cantonment with two guns; but as the alarm ceased for a
time, the troops were sent on to Cawnpore, where much more anxiety was
felt. Lieutenant Brasyer commanded four hundred Sikhs of the Ferozpore
regiment in the fort; while Captain Hazelwood took charge of the
European artillerymen. About two hundred Englishwomen and children were
in the fort; and all hoped that the native troops in the cantonment
could and would be kept in subjection. How far this hope was well
founded, will be shewn in a future chapter.
Lucknow and the important territory of Oude, so far as concerns the
events in May, have already been treated. The relations of the British
government to the court of Oude, the assiduous exertions of Sir Henry
Lawrence to maintain subordination and tranquillity, and the vigorous
measures adopted by him against the mutineers at Lucknow towards the
close of the month of May, were followed by occurrences in June which
will come for notice in their proper place.
Of Cawnpore—a name never to be uttered by an English tongue without a
thrill of horror, an agony of exasperated feeling—all notice will be
postponed until the next chapter; not because the hapless beings there
residing were free from peril in the month of May, but because the
tragedy must be treated continuously as a whole, each scene leading
forward to the hideous climax. Suffice it at present to know that
Cawnpore contained so many English men and women, and so many mutinous
native troops, that all eyes were anxiously directed towards the
progress of events at that city.
Let us turn to towns and districts further westward.
[Illustration:
Agra Fort.
]
Agra, once the capital of the Patan emperors, is the chief city of the
Northwestern Provinces. Delhi is historically, and in population, more
important; but was still at that time nominally under another sovereign;
whereas Agra has been British territory since 1803, and is very well
suited for a seat of government. The city, like Delhi, is situated on
the right bank of the Jumna, and will, like it, be at some future time
accommodated by the East India railway. In round numbers, its distance
from Delhi is a hundred and fifty miles; from Calcutta, a little under
eight hundred; and from Lahore, five hundred. The boundary of the old
city encloses a space of twelve square miles; but not more than half of
this is at present occupied by houses. There is one fine street, with
houses built of red sandstone; the remaining streets are mostly narrow,
with very small, insignificant-looking shops. The public buildings are
numerous, and some of them very magnificent, telling of the past days of
imperial glory and splendour. One is the palace of Shahjehan; small, but
rendered very beautiful by its white marble surfaces, arabesques and
mosaics, carvings of flowers, inlayings of black and yellow marble,
enrichments of gilding, screen-works of marble and metal, fountains in
the mosaic pavements. Near this is Shahjehan’s audience-chamber, as
large as the palace itself, originally enclosed by arcades hung with
tapestries. And also close at hand is the Moti Musjid or Pearl Mosque;
with an exterior of red sandstone and an interior of white marble; a
court with arcades and a fountain; a vestibule raised on steps; three
terraces surmounted by beautiful domes; and nine elegant kiosks
equidistant along the front. But the crowning beauty of Agra in its
Mohammedan aspect is the celebrated Taj Mahal, a little way outside the
city. This was the mausoleum of Shahjehan and his favourite sultaness
Nurjehan, the ‘Light of the world,’ and occupied in its construction
twenty thousand men during a period of more than twenty years. Page
after page of travellers’ descriptions are occupied with this glorious
structure—its façade of a thousand feet in length; its dazzling
whiteness of marble; its mosques, at either end, with their domes; its
stupendous marble terraced platform, with steps and pillars, minarets
and kiosks; its great dome surmounted by gilded globes and crescents;
its octagonal shrine or sepulchral apartment, with enclosures of
extraordinary marble latticework; and its sarcophagi, literally covered
with arabesques, fanciful mouldings, sculptured flowers, and
inscriptions from the Koran.