CHAPTER XXVII.
DISCUSSIONS ON REBEL PUNISHMENTS.
Before entering on the military struggles that marked the month of April, it may be desirable to notice the phases of public feeling concerning the amount of punishment due to the mutineers and rebels in India. The discussions on this subject undoubtedly influenced the course of proceeding adopted both by the military and the civil authorities; although it may not be possible to measure the exact amount of that influence, or the exact date at which it was felt. Some of the proceedings of Viscount Canning at Calcutta, in reference to this matter, belonged to the month of March; some of the discussions in the imperial parliament, and at the India House, bearing on Canning’s line of policy, belonged to later months; but it will be useful to give a rapid sketch, in this place, of the nature of the discussion generally, and of the remarkable tone given to it by party politics in England. All reference to the debates concerning the reorganisation of the Indian government, whether at home or in India itself, may more fittingly be postponed to a later chapter.
Almost from the first, a large portion of the Anglo-Indian population cried aloud for most summary and sanguinary vengeance on rebels and mutineers of all kinds, Mohammedan and Hindoo, towns-people and country peasants. General Neill was idolised for a time by this class—not so much because he was a gallant soldier and a skilful commander, as because he was supposed to be terribly severe in his treatment of insurgents. This matter has been adverted to in former pages, as well as the torrents of abuse that were poured upon the governor-general for ‘clemency’—a word used in a mocking and bitter spirit. Many of the censors afterwards joined the ranks of those who abused the same governor-general for a policy supposed to be antagonistic to that of ‘clemency.’ The fact is again mentioned here, owing to its connection with a controversy that gave rise to formidable parliamentary struggles many months afterwards. The proceedings of four different bodies—the Calcutta government, the Board of Control, the Houses of Parliament, and the Court of Directors—must be briefly noticed to shew the course of this controversy.
At first, when the mutiny was still in its earlier stages, the friends and relations of those who had suffered barbarous treatment at the hands of the natives gave utterance to a wild demand for vengeance, springing not unnaturally from an excited state of feeling. The following, from one of the Calcutta journals, is a fair example of this kind of writing in its milder form: ‘Not the least amongst the thousand evils which will follow in the track of the rebellion is the indurating effect it will have upon the feelings of our countrywomen when the struggle is over. There are many hundreds of English ladies who lie down nightly to dream of horrors too great for utterance; who scarcely converse except upon one dreadful subject; and who would be found almost as willing as their husbands and fathers to go out and do battle with the mutineers, if they could only insure the infliction of deep and thorough vengeance. It is a contest with murderers who are not satisfied with their life’s blood, that they have to expect daily. Their very servants are perhaps in league to destroy them. They suffer almost hourly worse than the pains of death. Many have already died by homicidal hands; but more from the pangs of starvation and travel, from the agonies of terror, and the slow process of exhaustion. And all this while friends and relatives sigh vainly for the coming of the day of retribution.’ The italicised passages shew only a very moderate use of the words ‘vengeance’ and ‘retribution,’ but may suffice to indicate the feeling here adverted to.
The Calcutta government, as has been duly recorded in the proper chapters, from time to time issued orders and proclamations relating to the treatment which the mutineers were to receive, or which was to be meted out to non-military natives who should shew signs of insubordination. There was, as one instance, the line of policy contested between Mr Colvin and Lord Canning. The former issued, or intended to issue, a proclamation to the mutineers of the Northwest Provinces, in which, among other things, he promised that ‘soldiers engaged in the late disturbances, who are desirous of going to their own homes, and who give up their arms at the nearest government civil or military post, and retire quietly, shall be permitted to do so unmolested;’ whereas Lord Canning insisted that this indulgence or leniency should not be extended to any regiments which had murdered or ill-used their officers, or committed cruel outrages on other persons. Then there were several orders and statutes proclaiming martial law in the disturbed districts; appointing commissioners to try mutineers by a very summary process; authorising military officers to deal with rebel towns-people as well as with revolted sepoys; enabling the police to arrest suspected persons without the formality of a warrant; making zemindars and landowners responsible for the surrendering of any ill-doers on their estates; and other measures of a similar kind. When, in the month of July, Viscount Canning found it needful to check the over-zeal of some of the tribunals at Allahabad, who were prone to hang accused persons without sufficient evidence of their guilt, he was accused of interference with the righteous demand for blood. It is true, that these were, in the first instance, merely newspaper accusations; but as the English public looked to newspapers for the chief part of their information concerning India, these controversies gave rise to a very unhealthy excitement; and weeks, or even months, often passed before the truth could be known—as was strikingly evidenced in the case of the lieutenant-governor of the Central Provinces, whose supposed ‘clemency’ (in a matter of which, as soon appeared, he knew absolutely nothing) was held over him as a reproach for nearly four months. In September appeared a proclamation at Agra, warning the natives of the possible consequences of any complicity on their parts in the proceedings of the mutineers. Part of the proclamation ran as follows: ‘The government of these provinces calls on all landowners and farmers, with their tenantry, and on all well-disposed subjects, to give all possible assistance to the authorities in bringing those outcasts (mutineers and rebels) to justice. Landowners and farmers of land, especially, are reminded of the terms of their engagement not to harbour or countenance criminals and evil-disposed persons. The government requires proofs of the fidelity and loyalty of all classes of its subjects, in recovering the arms, elephants, horses, camels, and other government property, which have been feloniously taken by the offenders. All persons are warned against purchasing or bartering for any such property of the state under the severest penalties; and rewards will be paid to those who, immediately on obtaining possession of the same, bring them to the nearest civil or military station.’
So far as concerns the imperial parliament, little took place during the year 1857 touching on the subject of the present chapter. The opposition party sought to shew that her Majesty’s ministers were responsible for the outbreak; some members of both Houses broached their views concerning the causes of the mutiny; others criticised the mode in which troops were sent to India; some condemned, others defended, Viscount Canning; many put forth suggestions concerning the future government of India; many more sought to overwhelm with guilt the East India Company; while missionaries, civil servants, Indian judges, aristocratic officers, favoured commanders, were made subjects of frequent and warm debate—but the members of the legislature generally held aloof from that excessive demand for a sanguinary policy towards the insurgents, so much dwelt on by many of the Anglo-Indians. After passing an act, containing among other provisions clauses relating to ‘The Punishment of Mutiny and Desertion of Officers and Soldiers in the Service of the East India Company,’ parliament was prorogued on the 28th of August. During the recess, the press was busy on those accusations and reclamations already adverted to—in turn correcting, and corrected by, the official documents which from time to time appeared. Commercial troubles having agitated the country during the autumn, parliament met again on the 3d of December, for a short session before Christmas. Although the purpose of meeting was prescribed and limited, the members of the legislature did not deem it necessary or desirable to remain silent on a subject so uppermost in men’s thoughts as the mutiny in India. Speeches were made, motions brought forward, explanations given, and returns ordered, on the state of the army, the mode of sending over troops, the conduct of the government, and various other matters bearing on the struggle in the East. The speech from the throne contained many allusions to that struggle, but none that bore on the mode of punishing the rebels. The Earl of Derby, in a speech on the opening-night, sought to discourage the cry for vengeance raised in many quarters. After urging that England should deal with the mutineers in justice and not in revenge, he added: ‘For every man taken with arms in his hands there ought to be a righteous punishment, and that punishment death. For those miscreants who have perpetrated unmentionable and unimaginable atrocities upon women, death is too mild a sentence. On them should be inflicted the heavier punishment—a life embittered by corporal punishment in the first instance, and afterwards doomed to the most degrading slavery. Be they Brahmins of the highest caste, they should be forced to undergo the lowest, most degrading, most hopeless slavery. But, while he would take this course, he earnestly deprecated the extension of a feeling of hostility to the whole native population. From letters which he had seen, he feared that every white man in India who had suffered in any way by the mutiny came to regard every man with a black face as his enemy. Now, that was a feeling which should be restrained, if not by Christianity, at least by motives of sound policy. Measures should be taken to convince the natives that the English are their masters; but they must also be convinced that the English are their benefactors. We should not try to govern India by the sword alone.’ This sentiment was also well expressed by Mr Mangles, chairman of the East India Company, at the Haileybury examination on the 7th of December. Addressing the assembled professors, prizemen, students, and Company’s officers present, he adverted to the sudden rupture of friendly relations in India, and added: ‘For many years to come, there must exist strong mistrust and suspicion, if not more bitter feelings, between those who rule and those who are subject. It is impossible that it should be otherwise, after the scenes which have been passed through, the treacheries and murders—and worse than murders—that have been rife throughout the land. But, gentlemen, you are bound to struggle with those feelings and subdue them. It will be your duty to remember that only a small part, an infinitesimal part, of the population of India have been engaged in these frightful and scandalous outrages.’ [Here many striking instances of fidelity were brought to notice.] ‘It would therefore be most unjust to bring the charge of treachery against the whole people of India. It will be your duty, under these circumstances, to struggle against the suspicion and distrust which have been engendered by recent events, and to endeavour to win the affections of the people over whom you are called upon to exercise power. If we cannot govern India in that way, we ought to give up the country and come away.’
When parliament met for the usual session, in February, a question was put by the Earl of Ellenborough, concerning the policy intended to be pursued towards the rebels. Adverting to a rumour of some very wholesale series of military executions in Central India, he said: ‘Without questioning the justice of the sentence in that particular case, he doubted if capital punishment was so efficacious as a severe flogging. The natives were not afraid of death, but shrank from corporal pain. Besides, it is quite impossible to hang all the mutineers, and the continued exhibition of unrelenting severity must inevitably create a blood-feud between the natives and their European masters.’ Earl Granville, on the part of the government, replied that no particular instructions had been sent out to Viscount Canning on this matter, because the utmost reliance was placed on the justice and firmness of that nobleman: he added, that he agreed in the opinion that the frequent spectacle of capital punishment must have the worst possible effect; and he concluded by stating that the governor-general was directing his thoughts towards the possibility of transporting some of the evildoers to the Andaman Islands.
Now occurred a change in political matters which threw Indian discussions into a new channel. Hitherto, the subject of the punishment of mutineers had been discussed in parliament with reference rather to persons than to property. The ministry, however, having been changed on grounds quite irrespective of Indian affairs, and the Earl of Derby having succeeded Viscount Palmerston as premier, India was dragged into the consequences of this change. The Earl of Ellenborough, admitted on all hands to be a well-informed statesman on Indian matters, however opinions might differ concerning his temper and prudence, was appointed president of the Board of Control. When governor-general of India, many years earlier, he had been in frequent collision with the East India Company, as represented both by the Court of Directors and by the Calcutta government; and it was thought probable that his new assumption of authority in Indian affairs would be marked by something notable and important. It was so. The singular termination of his ministerial career was closely and immediately connected with the subject to which this chapter relates, in a way that may now be briefly narrated.
At first this question of punishment had to be discussed by the new government in the same manner as before—that is, in relation to the sanguinary vengeance advocated by many writers of letters and newspaper articles, especially at Calcutta. On the 18th of March, Mr Rich moved in the House of Commons for the production of certain papers which he expected would throw light on this matter, he contended that the conduct of the army, in the punishment of the insurgents, was merciless and cruel. He intimated the necessity of requiring the authorities in India to act strictly up to the instructions of Lord Canning, who, he thought, deserved honour for his firmness and humanity. The Calcutta journals, he asserted, recommended that Oude should be made one wide slaughter-house, in which extermination should be the rule rather than the exception; and it was but right that the government should at once check this terrible feeling of sanguinary animosity. Most of the speakers in the debate that followed agreed in the view taken by Mr Rich; and more than one of them broached the doctrine that the insurgents in Oude ought not to be treated like rebel sepoys—seeing that, whether wisely or unwisely, they were fighting for what they deemed national independence.