INDIA.
The general condition of the British colonies continued prosperous; but in India certain potent elements of disturbance were at work. The annexation of Oude began to produce its fruits, the people of all ranks—high and low, military and civil—were preparing for revolt; and a scheme was set on foot for corrupting the native army of Bengal, chiefly recruited from Oude, which, within a year, produced the most appalling results. Various symptoms of sedition, in different parts of India remote from one another, were indicated, but were not taken notice of by the authorities, either wisely or vigilantly. Among the most remarkable signs of a movement of some kind being on foot, was the transmission of little cakes, called chupatees, from hand to hand, throughout all the cities and villages of India. Many officers predicted, from this circumstance, that a conspiracy to a revolt was in progress, but the government discountenanced all warnings, and treated contemptuously all information communicated to it which was calculated to call for its watchfulness. The authorities believed that the chupatee movement was harmless. Even now, this is the opinion of many familiar with India, although the majority I conversant with that country were of a contrary opinion.
One intelligent writer * presents the subject in the following light: “The transmission of such little cakes from one district to another is supposed by the Hindoos to effect the removal of epidemic disease.
* Robert Henry Wallace Dunlop, B.C.S.
When cholera broke out in this division, the villagers frequently attached the disease, as they fancied, by some ceremonies, to a buffalo, and drove it across the Ganges, or into some other village. This latter course frequently caused fighting between the villagers. It was also found that a similar transmission of cakes had taken place on a former occasion, when a murrain attacked the cattle of the districts bordering Oude, and the disease was supposed to be stayed as soon as the said cakes reached the holy fanes of Hurdwar. The agitation was fostered, and false rumours founded thereon, prejudicial to government, were almost invariably propagated by Mussulmans, while the transmission of a cake is a purely Hindoo practice. The shape and size of the cakes was that of the common Brahmin ‘Pooree.’ The excitement at the time among the sepoys, and the occurrence afterwards of the mutiny, has led many to connect this cake distribution with our disturbances, but without any sufficient grounds for so doing. It is probable that if any connection existed it was accidental, and the relationship acknowledged by either designing or ignorant persons, was consequent upon the distribution, and did not cause or precede it. Those, indeed, who have attempted to explain the ‘chupatee movement,’ as it is called, to be a sort of ‘fiery cross’ signal for a united rising, appear to have succeeded in proving little by their own ingenuity. Its real origin was, doubtless, a superstitious attempt to prevent any return of the fearful visitation of epidemic cholera which devastated the north-west provinces the year before, and still lingered in scattered spots.”
The symptoms of disaffection, which were evident before Lord Dalhousie retired from the government, became still more marked after the arrival of Lord Canning. Lord Dalhousie left India in March, Lord Canning arriving before the departure of his predecessor in office. The two proud noblemen met at Government-house, and appeared publicly together at a grand ball at that celebrated palace of English governors. An American gentleman, a correspondent of the New York Herald,** was struck with the haughty bearing of both these noblemen, their coldness to men of rank and great talent, and their general indifference of manner towards those whom it was their duty, as it ought to have been their privilege, to conciliate.
** Mr. Train, author of “Young America Abroad.”
The American observer, who looked on with an intelligent and impartial eye, was especially disgusted with the insolent bearing of the European officials, as well as of the noble governors-general, to the native princes, especially those who were conquered in the great Sikh war. They were obliged to put off their shoes in token of submission, after the manner of the East, when a conqueror or superior is approached. The American gentleman noticed the look of dejection and distaste expressed in the countenances of these once powerful native chieftains, and foreboded that a government which pursued a policy so arrogant, and where officers were characterized by so offensive an hauteur, must hold the sword tightly in its hand, or public indignation and resentment would arise, dangerous, if not fatal, to its power.
Lord Canning signalized his dawning power by a proclamation on the affairs at Oude, which exasperated to the last degree the vengeance nursed in the hearts of the whole people of that region.
Towards the end of the year the troops of the Bengal army were sullen and almost mutinous. Intelligent, officers noticed the dark scowl which the soldiery in vain endeavoured to conceal. In the public bazaars of the great cities a sort of secret intelligence between the sepoys and the people was observed, and all men, except the high officials, seemed to hear the murmuring of the distant thunder, and the first struggles of the storm, so soon to burst in blood and destruction over so large a portion of India. Thus closed the year 1856 in the British Indian empire: 1857 had scarcely dawned, when the thundercloud burst over its fairest provinces, and the deluge fell by which so many human beings, so many interests, and so vast an army, were swept away.