Indian Mutiny and Beyond

by Robert Shebbeare VC (retail) (epub)

  Complaint of Lolemun Bunniah against 7 drummers.

  To send receipt for 4/2 Rupees hire of 2 carts from Kurnaul with sick.

  60 men from above 3 companies — marched on afternoon of 26th December to escort treasure to Kalka.

  5 recruits entered R.O. 27th December.

  Chapter Two

  MUTINY

  There were a number of reasons why the Indian Mutiny happened and opinions differ as to which of many factors was the most important. It is generally agreed, however, that the explosion of violence which occurred was the culmination of many years of simmering resentment about a number of issues, not only in the ranks of the army but in the country at large.

  When the annexation of the Indian states began, it was thought that the administration would work best if run along lines which took account of the customs and practices of a particular locality but, as the bureaucracy grew, a system evolved which devalued the contribution of the native civil servants and left Europeans with salaries and career prospects that were far superior, which naturally caused resentment. Educated Indians began to realize that their religious, social and cultural customs were in great danger of being sidelined in favour of the Western sets of values which were being superimposed on their traditional ways. Writing in 1858, Syed Ahmad Khan stated that the main cause of rebellion had been the lack of understanding of Indian ways, which stemmed from the exclusion of any native representation on the Legislative Council of India.

  The annexation in 1856 of Oude, one of the largest and richest provinces in northern India, from which a very large number of sepoys of the Bengal army were recruited, caused deep resentment. Not only was their king, despite his many faults, removed, and their land put under direct British rule, but the taxation system was changed in such a way that it alienated several of the most powerful feudal landowners, who became rebel leaders the following year.

  Within the army itself many grievances had built up over the years, of which the issue of caste was but one. The British had traditionally recruited high-caste Hindus of the warrior class because they were tall, imposing men who made good soldiers, but in 1834 the recruiting base was widened to include Sikhs, Muslims and Hindus of lower caste, a dilution which was not welcomed. The regiments raised in Oude, in particular, were outraged by the recruitment of Punjabis and Sikhs. Batta, an allowance for foreign service, was withdrawn in 1849, and in 1856, very controversially, an order was made that all new enlistment was to be for General Service rather than for service within India, which meant that Hindus might have to travel across seas, thereby defiling their caste.

  Regular pay, a pension and the chance of plunder as a perk of the job were the main incentives for the rank and file to join what was basically a mercenary army run by officers of an alien race and religion, but over the years there had been an erosion of some of these. During the early part of the nineteenth century there had been a number of campaigns that had given sepoys opportunity for booty, but as this source of revenue diminished they were left, not only with a life of boring routine, but with a wage of seven rupees a month that had not changed since the beginning of the century. Grain prices had risen steadily during the same period and they had to provide their own food by buying produce from the local population, so in real terms the standard of living was obviously diminishing. From this wage they also had to find deductions for certain items of dress and equipment, which they disliked wearing because of the tight-fitting discomfort quite unsuited to the Indian climate, and they had to pay for the transport of their baggage when moving from station to station. When in cantonments, the men were responsible for building their own huts, and conditions were generally very squalid.

  Native officers, all of whom were subordinate to the most junior of British officers, were particularly frustrated in a number of ways. There was a ceiling on the rank that they could attain, and promotion, based on length of service, was extremely slow. For ambitious and talented men this lack of career opportunity was, as much as anything, responsible for enabling them to see the solution that a rebellion might offer, and was the reason why so many officers took a leading part in it. In addition, the attitude of many British officers to native soldiers had undergone a change for the worse over the years, and there was amongst some of the latter the justified feeling that they were treated very much as inferiors.

  So, with much of the country feeling threatened by foreign domination, and with particular disgruntlement within the army, the stage was set for trouble and in early 1857 a catalyst was added to the already explosive mix.

  Since 1840, the Company armies had been using percussion muskets with a smooth bore and although rifles had been in limited use, for a long time they had had technical problems, so that it was not until 1856 that the first batch of the 1853 Enfield rifles reached India. This was still a muzzle-loading weapon that depended on the soldier biting the top off a cartridge, pouring the powder followed by the rest of the cartridge down the barrel, and then ramming down the bullet or ball. To make it sufficiently easy for the new Enfield cartridge to be rammed down the rifled bore, it needed to be greased. The C-in-C of the Bengal Army had warned in 1853 that whatever was used for the purpose should not be offensive to the native soldiers, but this advice was ignored and by 1856 the ordnance department started to make its own cartridges to a recipe containing tallow, but not specifying of which kind it should be. Before any of them could even be issued, rumours began to circulate that the grease was made from cow and pig fat, offensive to both Hindu and Muslim. The army, to its credit, took a number of steps to try to remedy the situation, but by now the seditionists had seized on this opportunity to ferment a general rising and nothing that was said or done made much difference. Organized cells of rebel sepoys spread rumours that the greased cartridges were being used in a deliberate attempt on the part of the British government to undermine their religion and caste, and to force them to adopt Christianity. Trouble flared up in February when sepoys of the 19th Bengal Native Infantry refused to take up the cartridges. At Ambala in March, where Robert Shebbeare was stationed with the 60th BNI, there was a musketry depot to which sepoys from numerous regiments came to be instructed in the use of the new Enfield rifle, and here the concerns reached such a pitch that General Anson, C-in-C India, had to postpone the use of the cartridges for live firing.

  Early in the year the mysterious business of the chapatties also occurred, when a single biscuit was brought to the watchman of a village with instructions to bake four more and distribute these to other villages. Thus, in a short time, they had appeared over an enormous area and created a great deal of speculation about their significance. Amongst the people at the time, some thought it was part of the government plot to convert them to another religion; others thought it was a token to warn them to be ready for some unspecified impending catastrophe. Some of the British thought that it had a connection to an event in Madras a hundred years before, when cakes had been spread around prior to mutiny; others maintained that it might be linked to the Hindu prophecy, shared also by Muslims, that British rule would only last for a century. At all events, the rumours surrounding the chapatties had the desired effect of unsettling both the British and the Indians.

  On 29 March, Mungul Pandy, a Brahmin of the 34th BNI, high on drugs, attacked his adjutant and sergeant major and made an unsuccessful attempt to rouse the rest of the regiment to mutiny. He and another man of the same name were both hanged on the parade ground at Barrackpore in April, giving rise to the nickname of ‘Pandies’ being then applied to all the rebel troops.

  The events which finally lit the touch paper occurred in the large garrison at Meerut in April and early May, where there was an unusually high proportion of European troops. Here, eighty-five skirmishers of the 3rd Light Cavalry, one of the oldest and most highly respected native regiments in India, refused to accept an order by their heavy handed and unpopular CO to use the new cartridges, on the grounds that they would be ostracized by all in the army if
they did so. All were court-martialled and sentenced to ten years in prison with hard labour; on 9 May they were shackled on the parade ground, in front of their fellows, and sent off to the civilian gaol. Despite being warned that there were plans afoot for the Indian troops to rise up and release them, the Colonel and the station commander, Brigadier Archdale Wilson, took no action. On Sunday, 10 May, the 11th and 20th BNI, together with the 3rd Cavalry, rose up in force, killing almost fifty British officers, together with their wives and children. Indecision by the British commanders allowed the mutineers to escape and, although most of them were keen to go home, they were persuaded by the rebel leaders to set off for Delhi where, the next day, sowars (troopers) from the 3rd Cavalry set the overthrow of the city in motion.

  The day chosen by the rebel leaders as the one on which all the native regiments of the Bengal Army would rise up and overwhelm the British soldiers was 10 May 1857. This day, being a Sunday, had been chosen in the expectation that the mutineers would catch the soldiers and their families in church without arms, ammunition and horses, and would be able to massacre them as they came out. The month of May had been chosen because, being in the hottest part of the year, the conspirators thought that any survivors who managed to escape would die of sunstroke and exposure to the searing heat. Fortunately, the events which took place at Meerut, where many of the Europeans were massacred, were not repeated everywhere else as the men of many other regiments held back to see what might be happening, and as a result the mutinies occurred in a sporadic fashion, giving the British time to consolidate a response.

  In his recent book, The Indian Mutiny, 1857, Saul David has made a masterly and very readable survey of the evidence available to date, and gives a detailed analysis of the many intertwined events that took place.

  Umballah, May 18th, 1857

  My dear father,

  As you will probably hear disastrous news from this part of the country I just scribble a line as we have this moment heard that communication is open from Bombay.

  We are all quiet at Umballah and the sepoys still faithful although very much excited. We expect all to march for Delhi in a few days and I hope our advance will check the whole business.

  We can hear nothing from down country but the Punjab is reported quiet.

  You shall have a letter by every possible opportunity but I fancy there is a poor chance of this letter even.

  I am very hard worked as we all are and I don’t get much sleep but as I was beginning to get slightly corpulent I have no fear that the work will injure me — it will rather have a contrary effect.

  I have no time to add to this note as the mail is just going out — I heard the chance only just now.

  With kindest love to dear mother and all at home, believe me ever your affectionate son, Robert Shebbeare

  Camp Mundlana, which you will not find on the map, I fancy, 30th May, 1857

  My dear Harry,

  Scorching weather! No thermometer in camp but I should suppose 120 degrees in the tent to be about the mark. I wrote to my father before we started and hope he would get the letter and set your minds at ease, as the most wonderfully exaggerated reports will of course reach you as to the fate of the north western provinces.

  I had better give you a slight sketch of our proceedings of late. On the 22nd we got (about sunset) our orders to march at midnight. We went down to Kurnaul by the regular marches and halted one day. We were then told that the Treasury at Rohtuck some sixty miles SW was in danger and were ordered to march by double marches for its protection, but when we arrived at Paneeputt where the advanced guard of the army was, we heard that 600 mutineers from Delhi had gone out and robbed the Treasury and got safe back.

  We found Mr Lock the Collector of Rohtuck at Paneeputt whither he had escaped on horseback after seeing his house set fire to. We marched off next morning with him and made a second march today to a village in his district, the name of which is at the top of my note. We hear all sorts of terrible reports of atrocities committed in Rohtuck by the rebels but I believe nothing that I do not see unless on the authority of European eyewitnesses. Poor Lock’s property however was utterly destroyed without doubt, to the extent of some 10,000 Rupees. Our arrival in the district sets matters to rights wherever we are seen but we shall have to burn some villages and shoot or hang some of the head men of them before all is quiet. The forces are concentrating on Delhi and I fancy you will probably get a good account of it before you receive this scribble, which I only send you to assure you of my own safety. I am keeping a horseman waiting while I write this so I cannot extend it. I am trying to get the authorities here to raise a party of irregular horse and shall try and get command of it if they will do so — but I don’t know how things will turn out. Our sepoys are behaving very well.

  I will write on every possible occasion — assure my father and mother and all at home of my constant love

  and believe me dear Harry, ever your affectionate Robert H. Shebbeare

  Rohtuck, June 7th, 1857

  My dear mother,

  I have written two letters since I left Umballah. The first would no doubt reach you, the second I doubt about and therefore send off another on the chance of its going, although the road is in such a state that there is no certainty. We had no letters for four days, until yesterday we received one from headquarters.

  Our sepoys are behaving very well indeed and I really hope that all will go well with the regiment. Immediately on the outbreak the Commander-in-Chief removed a Colonel from another regiment to command the 60th which was a very great relief to us all for Colonel Drought, besides being a very disagreeable commanding officer, was utterly unfit for the emergency. Colonel Seaton who now commands us is a good soldier and a gentleman on whom it is a pleasure to serve. This Rohtuck is a horrible place, sandy and hot to the last degree. We have no shade for our tents but have been able to make up a rough sort of tattie of the camel thorn plant, and by keeping them constantly wet we manage to pass the day without injury from the heat. We are now getting short of supplies, but I hope we shall be able to get a cart from Umballah before long. In three or four days we shall have no beer or wine in camp and the prospect is not pleasant as the water is inclined to be salt. We are hourly expecting news that a decisive blow has been struck at Delhi — some of us thought we heard guns fired last night but we were probably deceived as the distance (some forty to forty-five miles) is very great and I think the sound would scarcely reach us. We have had a good deal of sickness in camp but I am glad to say no officer has been attacked as yet. There is no money in camp, nor is it likely that we shall get any just now, as the villagers make great difficulties about paying their revenue — they are evidently waiting to see what is done at Delhi.

  My house is now left to take care of itself, I fancy, as I heard the guard has been removed to help garrison the churchyard where all the inhabitants have collected their property. As we get no news, I must confine myself to news regarding myself, and I think I have told you all. I have not received letters from England for some time, but I suppose I shall get the missing letters when the road is open again.

  With kindest regards ever your affectionate son Robert H. Shebbeare

  Part of letter postmarked Umballah, 13th May:

  I send by Marseilles that you may get the letter earlier. European troops at Umballah 9th Lancers 75th Foot 1st Bengal European Fusiliers 2nd Bengal European Fusiliers two Troops European Horse Artillery.

  Camp before Delhi, 11th July, 1857

  My dearest mother,

  I have written you several letters of late since the disturbances commenced but the post is so very uncertain that I cannot calculate for certain on your receiving them and will therefore recapitulate to a certain extent.

  About the end of May we were ordered to march with a force towards Delhi. On reaching Paneeputt twenty miles from Kurnaul we were sent off to keep the peace at Rohtuck. We remained there until the 9th June, when our Regiment mutinied and the Grenadier Comp
any fired on us. About four p.m. we were almost all asleep or engaged in writing in the mess tent, when we heard a discharge of muskets and some sepoys rushed up and told us that the Grenadier Company were under arms and that they had told our grooms to get our horses ready that we might escape, as it would be impossible for us to remain in camp. The Colonel (Seaton) went down to the lines and I followed him immediately, but the Grenadiers began to fire on us and the men of the other companies turned us back and begged us to escape. My horse had been saddled and I jumped on and was about to start when I saw that Col. Seaton was not ready, so I had to stay for him under a pretty smart fire. However, we got safely away and after hanging about the neighbourhood of the camp for about two hours, we started for Delhi (about forty-five miles); we had one man on foot with us and had therefore to travel at a foot pace. We started at about 7.30 pm and reached the camp at Delhi at about 7.30 the next day after a most fatiguing ride, as the weather was very hot. Thank God, we arrived without any officer being badly wounded. The villagers were very civil as they thought the Regiment was behind us — not having heard of the mutiny. My different friends in camp were very kind and furnished me with a suit of clothes. I had escaped in my shirtsleeves, as had most of us.

  (The second part of this letter concerns events in Delhi, so it has been moved to the beginning of the next chapter.)

  Robert Shebbeare’s account of the mutiny of the 60th BNI in May and June 1857 is fairly sparse in its detail, which is quite understandable given that, as Adjutant of a regiment of 900 men, he was kept extremely busy all the time and, in addition, it all took place during the searing heat of the Indian hot season.

  Two other accounts by officers of the Regiment, both written at leisure long after the events in Umballah and Rohtuck, give colour and substance to some of the laconic observations that Robert Shebbeare made in his letters home. In the light of these later accounts, which describe graphically the extreme danger that the officers of the 60th were in at the time, it seems probable that Robert Shebbeare’s economy of detail was prompted not only by lack of time, but by a desire to spare his family too much alarm regarding his safety, as he would have been aware that vivid newspaper reports of atrocities and casualties were being published in the English newspapers.