The Punjaub—at Lahore and all the other cities and stations—was so steadily and watchfully governed, that no disturbances took place except of a very slight character—personally distressing, it is true, but not nationally or politically of any moment. One such was the following: On a certain day a number of disbanded sepoys, who had long before taken refuge in Cashmere, recrossed the frontiers, and attacked the Christians stationed at a place called Madhopore; they murdered a few, including children, under circumstances of great barbarity. No other reason could be assigned for this brutality than a vengeful thirst for European blood. Hastily they crossed again into Cashmere, taking with them a quantity of plunder. A demand was at once made upon the chief of Cashmere, Rumbeer Singh, to capture and give them up; which demand was shortly afterwards attended to, although he had exhibited a little remissness in this matter in one or two former instances. The Rajah of Cashmere was not wholly unsuspected, indeed, of unfavourable views towards the British; and, with a less firm man than John Lawrence at his elbow, he might possibly have made his mountain territory a retreat for rebels.
Sinde, the land of the Indus, remained firmly in the hands of Mr Frere and General Jacob, the one as civil commissioner and the other as military commandant. At one period during the month, however, Frere was called upon to settle a question of religious zealotry, which might have kindled into a flame if not promptly dealt with. A Mohammedan of respectable character came to him, while at Hydrabad, and complained of an inscription on the inner wall of an open-fronted shop belonging to the Christian Mission. The inscription comprised one or two quotations from the Koran, and an argument to disprove the divine authority of the Prophet of Islam, from the evidence of the Koran itself. It was prepared and written, in the Sindhi and Arabic languages, by the Rev. Mr Matchett; and the Rev. Mr Gell caused it to be conspicuously exhibited in the open shop where Bibles were sold or distributed. The complainant was one Gholam Ali, a Mohammedan lately returned from a pilgrimage to Mecca. He stated to Mr Frere that the inscription, visible to all the passers-by in the main bazaar of the city, was irritating and offensive to the Mohammedans. Mr Frere read the inscription; and in afterwards explaining to Lord Elphinstone the reasons which determined his decision on the subject, he said: ‘I am willing to be judged by any one who has any acquaintance with the ordinary feelings of a bigoted Mohammedan population as to the probable effects of such a placard on them. I feel confident that any such unprejudiced person would agree with me, that there was much danger of its causing an outbreak of fanatical violence; and holding that opinion, I cannot think that I should have been justified in allowing it to remain. It is quite possible it might never have caused any breach of the peace; but I did not think the present a time to try unnecessary experiments as to how much a fanatical native population will or will not bear in the way of provocation.’ Mr Frere wrote to the Rev. Mr Gell, the mission-superintendent, requesting him to remove the inscription; on the ground that, however well meant, it might produce more harm than good. This proceeding led to a violent outcry on the part of the missionaries and their supporters, and to an erroneous narrative forwarded to the government of Bombay—accusing Mr Frere of encouraging Mohammedanism and insulting Christianity. It was one of those numerous occasions, presented during the course of the Revolt and its suppression, in which the governing authorities had much difficulty in steering clearly through the opposite dangers of two religious extremes.
Sir Hugh Rose’s operations in Central India during the month of June were treated so fully in the last chapter, that little need be added here on the subject. The recapture of Gwalior was the great event; all the operations in Rajpootana, Bundelcund, Goojerat, and Holkar’s territory, were subordinate to it. When the month closed, General Roberts, with the ‘Rajpootana Field-force,’ was on the march from Nuseerabad to Jeypoor, to check the progress of the Gwalior fugitives in that direction. Brigadier Showers was at or near Futtehpore Sikri, guarding the Agra route. Major Ramsey was advancing from Rohilcund with the Kumaon battalion. The English residents at Jeypoor and Bhurtpore were actively engaged in supporting, so far as was practicable, the loyal tendencies of the rajahs of those two states, so as to enable them to resist the rebels if the latter were to enter either of those cities. The doubt was, not so much of the rajahs, as of the soldiery in their pay, whose fidelity could not wholly be relied on. The main body of Gwalior fugitives were at that time somewhere near Hindoun, a town about equidistant from Gwalior, Agra, and Jeypoor; whether they were about to advance to Ummerpore on the Jeypoor road, to Mhow on the Ulwar road, or to any other point, was not well known. Indeed, the rebels themselves seemed to be divided in opinion as to their future movements; they were looking around, to find some rajah, nawab, or nazim who would join them in rebellion; but those chieftains were becoming more and more cautious how they committed themselves in this way. The spectacle of rajahs blown away from guns, and nawabs hung from gallows, was by no means encouraging.
General Whitlock’s field-force, at the end of June, was distributed in various parts of Bundelcund, keeping in subjection the petty chieftains here and there in arms; for there was no longer anything like a formidable army of rebels opposed to him. Brigadier Carpenter, with three or four hundred men, and two guns, was at Kirkee. Major Dallas, with the 1st Madras N.I., was assisting the civil authorities in re-establishing the revenue and judicial departments. Colonel Reede, with two hundred men and two guns, was sent to look after the safety of Humeerpoor and its neighbourhood. Brigadier Macduff, with a portion of H.M. 43d foot, went to Calpee. Brigadier Munsey, with a small column of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, was sent to Nowgong, to protect a convoy of stores on their way from Saugor. The remainder of the force encamped for a while at Banda as head-quarters, having with them Narain Rao and Madhoo Rao as prisoners, a large number of guns, and a considerable amount of treasure and jewels captured from the rebels. Whitlock’s long-continued exertions, although not attended by any great battles, had gradually restored something like tranquillity to this distracted region. Bundelcund and the Saugor territory, from the Jumna to the Nerbudda, had for nearly twelve months been in a miserable condition. The various bands of mutineers passing from Dinapoor and elsewhere wrought great mischief; powerful villages preyed upon their weaker neighbours; and the self-installed nawabs and rajahs extorted every farthing they could get from the peasantry and towns-people. Many villages were completely deserted; many more had been burned to the ground, and the people plundered of all the grain and other property which they possessed. The lesson which the peaceful natives had received from the rebels was a severe one, calculated to teach them the advantages of regular government under British influence.
Among the many ‘field-forces’ which about this time were broken up, to relieve the troops from some of their exhausting labours in fiercely hot weather, was a small one called the ‘Satpoora Field-force.’ Satpoora is a town in Holkar’s Mahratta dominions, about seventy-five miles southeast of Indore, and very near the boundary of the Nagpoor territory. Satpoora also gives name to a range of mountains which, running east and west, separates the valley of the Taptee from that of the Nerbudda; and it was in this sense that the designation ‘Satpoora Field-force’ was given to a small body of troops collected for the defence of the region in question. Major Evans, commanding this force, took farewell of his men on the 22d of June. In an order or address, dated from his camp at Jalwana, he thanked Captain Sealey and the artillery, Captain Langston and the Rifles, Captain Baugh and the 9th Bombay N.I., Captain Briggs and the 19th, Lieutenant Latouche and the Poonah horse—being the components of his force. He made special mention of a certain encounter on the 11th of April; ‘when the insurgents, posted in positions from which they supposed they could not be driven, were at once attacked at three different points; and despite a most obstinate and deadly resistance, were signally defeated and dispersed.’ He proceeded in commendatory terms to state that ‘the effect on the enemy has been so dispiriting that they have never again dared to collect in force; the disaffected chiefs themselves wandering about in concealment. The force has therefore been disappointed in not being able again to shew their prowess, which all were so eager to do, and would have done so well, had opportunity offered.’
Gujerat, the Guicowar’s territory—situated south of Rajpootana, and west of Holkar’s territory—had, it will be remembered, been most happily and effectively disarmed by Sir Richmond Shakespear, political resident at the court of the Guicowar; thereby lessening the probability of any hostile outbreak. Gujerat became subject, however, during this month, to one of those strange mysteries in which orientals so much delight. The lotus, and the chupatties, and the ‘something white,’ had had their day; and now arose the mystery of twigs. It was ascertained that twigs or small branches had been circulated from village to village in the province of Gujerat, as signals or watchwords; but nothing could be learned concerning their meaning. An ancient custom existed in many parts of India, of measuring the footprints with straws or twigs whenever a robbery had been committed, then forwarding them from village to village, until the measurement was found to implicate some one villager; after which the village was made responsible. This and many other ancient customs were referred to; but nothing appeared to throw light on the meaning of the twigs thus transmitted through Gujerat.
To assist in the maintenance of tranquillity in the Deccan, a small field-force, composed of troops selected from the Poonah division of the Bombay army, was made up, and placed under the command of Colonel Gall. Starting from Poonah, the colonel arrived at Aurungabad on the 8th of June, and resumed his march on the following day to Jaulnah, a military station in the northwest corner of the Nizam’s dominions. Large bands of Rohilla marauders, expelled from the city of Hyderabad by the Nizam’s troops, were known to be in various villages in the Jaulnah district; and it was deemed expedient to hold Colonel Gall’s force in readiness to watch and disperse these men, lest their machinations should assume a military form. A new cavalry corps named Beatson’s Horse assisted in this object. This corps, organised by and under the active officer of that name, consisted of recruits from various parts of the Deccan, for active service in any regions where their presence might be deemed most useful. At present, their quarters were at Jaulnah, where they were regularly picketed around the encampment at night. Arrangements were also made for strengthening the Jaulnah district with a wing of the 92d Highlanders, and with several guns.
Of the presidency of Bombay it may happily be said that—partly owing to the scarcity of the Poorbeah element in the native army, partly to the sagacious and energetic government of Lord Elphinstone—the curse of rebellion was rendered very little apparent. Sinde, placed temporarily under that presidency, was well looked after by Mr Frere; Gujerat was safe under Sir Richmond Shakespear; Rajpootana was watched by the vigilant eye of General Roberts; while the northern Mahratta states, so far as they were subject to Bombay influence, were under the care of Sir Robert Hamilton.
Certain occurrences in the South Mahratta country, however, deserve to be noticed both in their political and their military phases.
Nothing is more certain than that many of the insurgent bodies in India rose in arms on account of personal or local matters, bearing little relation to the great military revolt, or to the so-called national rebellion. The derangement of regular government furnished opportunity for those who had real or assumed grievances. An example of this kind was furnished in the South Mahratta country. The natives of one of the least known districts south of Bombay had been in the habit of cutting down trees wherever they pleased, for the purpose of planting the cleared ground with various kinds of grain. The Bombay government at length put a stop to this wholesale destruction of timber. This stoppage was looked upon by the natives as an infringement of their ‘vested rights.’ A mischief-maker—one of the many usually at hand when the populace are excited—appeared in the person of the Rajah of Jumbote, a place southwest of Belgaum. He believed, or persuaded the people to believe, that Nena Sahib held Poonah with a large force; that the British troops were kept in check almost everywhere; and that it was a favourable time for a rise against the constituted authorities who held sway there. Another cause for disaffection arose out of the Hindoo custom of adoption; and this was felt in the South Mahratta country as in other parts of India. Many circumstances arose during the Revolt, shewing that the natives are familiar with and attached to this custom. When a prince, a chief, or a landowner, had no legitimate heir, it was customary for him to name a successor or heir, generally from among his kinsmen. So long as the East India Company had no territorial rights in a particular province or region, there was no motive for interfering with this custom; but self-interest afterwards stepped in, in a way that may be very easily explained. The Company, we will suppose, made a treaty with a native prince, to the effect that a certain state or a certain revenue should belong to him ‘and his heirs for ever.’ If he had no legitimate heir, the Company was tempted to seize the golden prize after his death, under the plea that the adopted son was not a true representative. A Hindoo custom was interpreted in an English sense, and, being found wanting, was disallowed; thereby enriching the Company. English lawyers found no difficulty in supporting this course of proceeding, because it was consistent with English law. It was not, however, until the governor-generalship of the Marquis of Dalhousie, that this kind of confiscation was extensively acted on; and hence the interval between 1848 and 1858 was marked by much more irritation among native princely families, than had been before exhibited in connection with this particular subject. Be it right or wrong, thus to interpret a Hindoo usage by an English test, the history of the Revolt plainly shewed that many of the bitterest enemies of the government were persons whose domains or revenues had been disturbed by a refusal of the Company to acknowledge the principle of adoption in heirship. The miscreant Nena Sahib, the spirited but unscrupulous Ranee of Jhansi, many of the princes of the house of Delhi, and others whose names and deeds have often been recorded in these pages, had—for some years preceding the outbreak—brooded over their real or fancied wrongs in some such matters as these. Is it matter for surprise that they welcomed a day of revenge—a day that might possibly restore to them that of which they deemed themselves unjustly deprived?