CHARACTER OF THE SEPOYS.
Our countrymen at home are frequently perplexed by the apparent contradictions of a traveller from the East, when describing the characters and manners of the inhabitants of Hindostan. If, for instance, he alludes to our gallant sepoys, he pours forth unmeasured praise, and appears altogether charmed with their docility, courage, honour, and fidelity. On the other hand, his opinion of the natives in the aggregate is often as exactly the reverse as it is possible to imagine. They are described, perhaps, in the strongest terms, as at once servile, cowardly, treacherous, and ungrateful. The fact is, that our troops are all from the northern provinces of India, the natives of which are a brave and generous race, who hold the profession of arms in the highest estimation. The Bengallees on the contrary, (with the most universal and shameless indifference to truth,) are mean, effeminate, and avaricious. They are chiefly composed of merchants, copying clerks, mechanics, and domestic servants, and are invariably refused admittance into the company's army. These people are vastly inferior to the natives of the upper provinces in mental and corporeal energy, though more polished in their manners, and more easily initiated into the arts and mysteries of civilized life. I will illustrate the nice sense of honour which distinguishes the native soldier by the following anecdote.
A sepoy of the Bengal native infantry was accused by one of his comrades of having stolen a rupee and a pair of trousers. The sergeant-major before whom, in the first instance, the charge was brought, was both unable and unwilling to give it credence. Besides the unusual circumstance of a native soldier being guilty of so base an act, the accused sepoy had always been remarkably conspicuous for his brave and upright conduct. His breast was literally covered with medals, and he had long been accustomed to the voice of praise. Still, however, justice demanded that the charge should not be dismissed without an impartial investigation. The whole affair was brought to the notice of the commanding officer, who desired that the sepoy's residence should be immediately and thoroughly examined. On opening his knapsack, to the utter astonishment and regret of the whole regiment, the stolen property was discovered. None, however, looked more thunderstruck than the sepoy himself. He clenched his teeth in bitter agony, but spoke not a single word. The colonel told him, that though circumstances were fearfully against him, he would not yet pronounce him guilty, as it was not impossible he might be the victim of some malignant design. He therefore dismissed him from his presence until the result of further inquiries should produce a full conviction of his guilt or innocence. In a few hours the sepoy was observed to leave his little hut, and walk with hurried steps to a neighbouring field. He was soon concealed from sight by a thick cluster of bamboos, beneath which he had often sheltered himself from the noontide sun. Suspecting the purpose of his present visit to so retired a spot, a comrade followed him, but was unfortunately too late to arrest the hand of the determined suicide. The poor fellow lay stretched on the ground, with his head hanging back, and the blood gushing from his open throat. He had effected his purpose with a sharp knife, which he still grasped, as if with the intention of inflicting another wound. He was carried to the hospital, and carefully attended, but the surgeon immediately pronounced his recovery impossible. A pen and ink were brought to him, and he wrote with some difficulty on a slip of paper, that he firmly hoped he had not failed in his attempt to destroy himself, for life was of no value without honour. He stated, too, that though it might now be almost useless to affirm his innocence, he hoped that a time might come when his memory should be freed from its present stain. He lingered no less than fifteen days in this dreadful state, and died, at last, apparently of mere starvation. It was my painful duty, as "officer of the day," to visit the hospital very frequently, and he invariably made signs of a desire for food. This it was, of course, impossible to give him, and any nourishment would merely have prolonged his misery. Two days before he died, it was discovered that a Bengallee servant of low caste, who had taken offence on some trivial occasion, had placed the stolen goods in the sepoy's bundle, and then urged the owner to accuse him of the theft. The disclosure of this circumstance appeared to give infinite satisfaction to the dying soldier.
London Weekly Review.