This was easier said than done, but was finally accomplished after three months of toilsome and dangerous travel. He used every sort of native conveyance—barge, post-chaise, palanquin, pony, and "shank's mares"—but it was interesting and full of novelty to the barracks-bound soldier. He went by way of Benares, Allahabad, Cawnpore, and Meerut—places destined to win unpleasant fame in the Mutiny.
Peshawar, his destination, proved no less fascinating than the way stations. It commanded the caravan route between India and Afghanistan, and guarded the entrance to Khyber Pass. Lord Dalhousie described it as "the outpost of the Indian Empire"—a very accurate title.
At Peshawar at last Frederick Roberts became acquainted with his father, who proved a good comrade. The junior officer served as aide-de-camp on the general's staff, and went with him on several expeditions, outwardly peaceful, but inwardly full of danger. India then was a seething caldron of trouble.
Nevertheless, this period with his father is described by Frederick Roberts as "one of the brightest and happiest of my early life." Unfortunately the senior officer's health showed signs of breaking—and again father and son had to part. General Roberts resigned his command and returned to England, at the end of the year 1853.
Peshawar was a notoriously unhealthy station, and young Roberts also soon began to feel the effects of the climate. He was still far from robust, and traded continually on his will and nerve. The native fever sapped his energy, and he was sent to recuperate, to Kashmir. He was enthusiastic about the scenery here, and his tramping and shooting trips in the bracing climate soon gave back his strength and vim.
It was about this time that he realized his pet ambition of joining the
Horse Artillery. He also set himself with a will to the study of
Hindustani, as he realized that his usefulness in the
Quartermaster-General's office would be vastly increased if he could deal
directly with the natives.
This was a turning point in Roberts' career. It was to be his first stepping stone upward, and it illustrates the point that even though Opportunity may knock at the door—one must be ready for her. That Roberts finally won his larger success was due not so much to his genius as to his industry. Edison says that genius is made up of two per cent inspiration and ninety-eight per cent perspiration.
The great Mutiny, in which Roberts and many another British soldier was to be plunged, had its immediate cause in a strange thing—greased cartridges! How so insignificant a thing could have started so great a trouble is one of the strange, true stories of history. There were, of course, other contributory factors, but this was the match that touched off the magazine.
At this time England employed a great many native troops. To be exact, there were about 257,000; while the British regulars numbered only 36,000. The latter were outnumbered seven to one.
The Ordnance Department adopted a new rifle, the Enfield, at this juncture, and sent a consignment to India. The cartridges for the rifle were greased, for easy loading, and were to be bitten by the soldiers. This last act at once set the sepoy soldiers in an uproar. It was against their religious scruples to touch meat of any kind, and they heard it stated that the objectionable cartridges were greased with pig's and cow's fat.