Calcutta Panics

However, it was the 12th of June – for all their good intentions, the Calcutta Volunteer Corps was not ready for the next panic to strike Calcutta.

The Gagging Act

The Gagging Act, as published by the Calcutta Gazette

The next days in Calcutta would prove to be tumultuous.
On the 13th of June, Canning announced the “Gagging Act” – which in effect, prevented the press from publishing anything at all unless the presses had a license from the government.

It has to be understood that at the time in India, there was no press regulation as we know it today. Newspapers could be as flattering or as scathing of the government and their officials as they wanted – this was not necessarily to the liking of many civilians, particularly when the press called them out for corruption and greed. The publications vigorously criticized the Government and the officials and some went out of their way to annoy the Government and its officials, more often than not stooping to attack not just their policies but their very morals. and the latter who made it a point to annoy the Government and their servants, not only by fair criticism of the policy and action but even occasionally descending to an attack on the domestic affairs and private moral, of officials both high and low. In 1780, John Hickey started the Bengal Gazette in which he freely criticized Warren Hastings and his policies. Hickey would ultimately be arrested and imprisoned and that would be the momentary end of the Bengal Gazette.

In Madras, the editor of the India Herald was deported for making libelous accusations against the Government and the Prince of Wales; the editor of the Madras Gazette, in his turn, was prohibited from publishing copies of the General order of the Government without the approval of the military secretary. By 1799, the Madras Government insisted that all newspapers had to be submitted for inspection before publication.

The Bombay Gazette did not fair any better – its editor incurred his government’s wrath by being particularly unflattering to the police. He too had to submit his publication to the government censor board and this is just one year of starting his paper, in 1791.
Lord Wellesley, in 1798, attempted to bring about some regulations regarding the press – his motives however were to prevent the French from getting any information about the political condition of his own government, being at the time, at loggerheads with the French in regards to Mysore, whose sultan was negotiating with the French to boot the British out of India.

Wellesley enacted the Press Act of 1799, which stated, in brief, that nothing at all could be published – not even advertisements – without the approval of the government. The penalty for violating this act was the immediate deportation of the editor back to Europe.
This of course only affected European publications with European editors; only after 1818, did Europeans who were born in India and Indians themselves begin to make headways into journalism. The Marquess of Hastings went ahead and amended this in 1818, setting up a rule that would have affected all publications, but this was never introduced with legality, so until 1823, the press remained largely unfettered.
Such was the situation when John Adam, in his position of acting Governor-General, created the regulation of 1823.
This of course changed everything.

  • Every publisher or printer was compelled to get a license from the government. Defaulters would be fined 400 rupees by the magistrate and the publication would immediately pass into government hands
  • The government of course, could cancel licenses at their discretion.

This of course led to a widespread closure of papers and only three Bengali and one Persian paper were able to continue in Calcutta. The editor of the Calcutta Journal, one James Buckingham, found himself deported.
The next governor general Lord William Bentnick did ease the regulations somewhat and allowed more liberties to the press regarding what they said and about whom. However it would not be until 1835 that there were any great changes.

The Metcalfe Act (so named for Charles Metcalfe, the Governor-General from 1835-36) which applied to the whole of the EICo territory, required every newpaper’s printer and publisher to declare the premises of the their publication thus effectively ending licensing regulations. It placed the Indian press on the same standing as the British press, and resulted in a rapid rise in publications throughout EICo territories.

Canning reintroduced licensing on the 13th of June, 1857. The press naturally, was outraged. The “Friend of India” had the following to say:

If it is not altogether then to the license of the Press, that the sepoy revolt is owing, will it be sufficient to muzzle journalism to obtain the means of putting down disaffection?
In the course of six short weeks, the glorious empire of Britain in the East is seen by all men to slipping from its nerveless grasp; and on when forty regiments are in open rebellion, when towns and treasuries almost withough count are in the hands of despicable traitors it is found that the Press has done it all…

His Lordship has inflicted upon the press that retributive justice which he delays so long to execute upon Delhi. We held him up to the world as an able ruler, and he has painted us as doing the work of the Queen’s enemies. Both statements are wrong, and for our part, we tender to society at large the most ample of apologies.
We are so hopelessly at a loss fo valid reasons in favour of the Gagging Act, thatit has more than once occurred to us that Lord Canning had been casting about for a method to raise the antipathies of the Indian Press, with the view of steeling his mind against the mighty storm of indignation which the news of this rebellion will create at home, and compared with which the wrath of India is as a zephyr to a cyclone. Perhaps the Governor-General needs no heavier censure than a review of facts would warrent, to bear him to the earh, but it is the nature of things that evils of which he could have no knowledge, and misconduct which he was powerless to prevent, will be alleged against his administration. “

Tha Calcutta Gazette, May 20th, 1857

What were then, Cannings reasons?
He had already felt the wrath of the press earlier- when the 19th mutinied at Berhampur. The press had held an uncompromising stance, calling on the government to impliment decided measures, stating that if the spark of mutiny was not immediately put out, there would be a fire. The lndian press, although less agressive in their opinons, did not openly disagree. With the outbreak at Meerut, the tone of the Indian press.  The Persian papers the Durbin, the Sultan-ul-Akhbar and the Hindoo Patriot of Calcutta all published the famous proclamation of Bahadur Shah asking India to prepare for a revolution. The Samachar Sudhabarshan, a bilingual newpaper which published editions daily in Bangali and in Hindi in Calcutta, was printing news and opinions about the progress of revolt; Lord Canning thus decided to reintroduce the Bengal Resolutions of 1823 to regulate the press and restrict the circulation of not just newspapers but books. The Friend of India and the Dacca News, were both given warnings and the Rangpur Bartabaha was closed altogether. Three papers Durbin, Sultan-ul-Akbar and Samachar Sudhavarshan were prosecuted for writing seditious articles.
In some fairness to Canning, he was not a man who took this regulation lightly. Having spent his life with a free press, it was with much reluctance he put this act in place, telling his council members that “the remedy was worse than the disease.” Had he stopped with censuring the Indian press, things might have passed by without more than a few raised eyebrows – but he threw the act at the English press as well. Stating

“… I see no solid standing ground upon which a line can be drawn marking off one from the other, when the question is to prevent matter calculated to work mischief at a crisis like this. For whilst I am glad to give credit to the conductors of the European Press for the loyalty and intelligence which mark their labours, I am bound by sincerity to say that I have seen passages in some of the papers under their management which, though perfectly innocuous as far as European readers are concerned, may, in times like the present, be turned to the most mischievous purposes in the hands of persons capable of dressing them up for the Native ear. I am glad lo admit that the bill is not specially levelled at the European Press, but I do not see any reason, nor do I consider it possible in justice, to draw any line of demarcation between European and Native publications.”

It is no wonder than many Calcutta residents doubted the sincerity of the Governor-General. It had become all too clear to anyone with any sense that Mr. Beadon’s line was broken and that the Bengal Presidency was going up in flames. It seemed that what the government was doing was not so much preventing seditious publications as preventing the press in England of getting wind of how many mistakes Canning and his council had made. However, Canning might have had some reason to be wary of the press.

Extracts translated from a Calcutta daily paper “Simachur Soodhartoursun” published in Bengali and Hindi, dated 5th June 1857
“The mutinies at Meerut and Delhi have filled the mind of our Governor with fear. He
had therefore added 24 men to his body-Guards and has ordered the principal gate,
and all the minor entrances at Government House to be closed punctually at 8 o’
Clock p.m. After the gates are closed, no one is admitted, no matter who he be, or
what his business and he goes every day to Dum Dum, Barrackpore and salaaming to the Sepoys with both hands with great address explains to them with sweet words,
“I will never attempt anything which can injure your religion. Do whatever you religion
requires – no-one shall prevent you.”
The Member of the great Council of Parliament, having understood that the order to
bite the Cartridges was at the bottom of all the present mutinies of the Sepoys, have
sent a letter of command to Lord Canning – In it this is written “Take means to make
the Hindu and Mussulman Sepoys abandon their mutinous conduct, or else it will be
much the worse for you.” When he got these orders our Governor determined to
burn all the Cartridges made of suspected covers /paper? in the presence of the
Sepoys all over the country, in order that they might lose all suspicion in regards to
their religion and return to their allegiance, but it does not seem as if the Sepoys
would place any confidence in the words of the Governor.
In another article after affirming that it has only been constant war that has made us prosper hitherto, and that our constant aggression were not bad policy, the writer proceeds “But now from the way in which they (our Rulers) have attempted to destroy religion, it seems that God is certainly displeased with them, and hence it is not improbable that they will lose their Empire. When a servant gives answer to his master death is not far off.
It is clear that the Sepoys have given an answer “to their masters” upon the subject of the loss of their caste. Let our readers consider for themselves what is likely to follow.
It was in an unlucky moment that the Governor passed the order for biting the
Cartridges, that he will not be able to effect his purpose is a trifle, but he will have
difficulty in saving the Empire. Now he takes every kind of oath, but the mutinous
soldiers attach no credit to what he says and show no inclination to leave off fighting
– on the contrary their rage increases every day and they have induced the people in
many places to join them.
The Raja of Rewa promised the priests of the Sacred God at Goya 2 ½ lacks of rupees if he should conquer the war with the English, so the Priests are praying God that he may be victorious. The Emperors of France and Russia have made peace with the British Government upon condition that the country which the British have taken from them respectively is to be restored, but the orders of restoration have not yet issued. They will probably not long be delayed under present circumstances. Government has passed an order that all merchants are to assist in the war. The Merchants are in great trouble about this.
All the country people in Agra are buying weapons and arms in every direction saying “If we die for it, we will fight with all our might against the English – Let us see what will come of it.”

Catching a Spy
On the same day as the council gagged the press, Town-Major Cavanagh was once again called upon by one of his men. This time, it was young sepoy named Hanuman Dhobi.(Hunomaun Dhobee is in the actual text, but I find the spelling abhorrent).
He asserted he had been accosted by servant of the King of Oudh – who happened to be in exile at Calcutta’s Garden Reach. The servant had impressed on the sepoy that the King was desirous to know to how many Indian and English troops were in the fort; when they were most likely to be caught off guard and whether the Indian troops would be willing to throw in their lot with the sepoys of Calcutta and Barrackpore and the 400 additional men the King himself had rallied.
The sepoy managed to evade giving any direct answers – he stated he would make the necessary enquiries and the servant was to meet him that very evening again when he was on sentry duty. The servant agreed and the sepoy was left to end his duty.
Upon being relieved, he first reported the matter to his own non-commissioned officer and requested and audience with Cavanagh. The officer told him in no uncertain terms he couldn’t see the Town-Major and to keep his mouth shut. Unperturbed, the sepoy sought out the sergeant.
Hanuman Dhobi appealed the Cavanagh that if he could have few sergeants at his disposal to aid him if necessary, he would capture the spy himself. Cavanagh aquiesed to the young man’s request and then made his way to the Government House, for dinner with Canning.
After midnight, Cavanagh returned home to the surprising news – Hanuman Dhobi had succeeded in his mission and there was now a spy in confinement. Busy with taking the depositions of Hanuman Dhobi and the 2 sergeants in order to formulate a charge against the man, Cavanagh was interrupted by the figure of General Hearsey’s ADC.
The General had sent Cavanagh a note – he expected the sepoys at Barrackpore to rise and he requested most earnestly for troops to be placed in position to intercept the mutineers should they make their way to Calcutta.
At the same moment, a note arrived from Colonel Birch, directing Cavangh to send the wing of the H.M.’s 37th just freshly arrived from Ceylon, to Cox’s Bungalow, and to organise steamers tocollect at Serampore the 78th Highlanders from Chinsura. They were to be then accomodated in Barrackpore in tents. Then, when possible, Cavanagh was to organise patrols on the Barrackpore road.
The only patrol Cavanagh had at his disposal was his newly formed Volunteer Cavalry – these he routed from their beds and notwithstanding they were neither fully trained and only one troop actually had any arms, the volunteers took up the call.

Panic Sunday

The Garrison Church and South Barracks

Cavanagh did not get to his bed that night. Once all the arrangements had been made, it was no longer fitting to go to sleep and he went instead to the garrison church to attend early service.

The Garrison Church, 1866

Not that Cavanagh would be attending service. No sooner had he come to the church door when the Adjutant General accosted him, ordering him to despatch with some haste, a company of the 53rd in carriages to DumDum. Cavanagh was then proceed immediately to Goverment House.
Lord Canning now informed him that in light of the situation, it was now deemed prudent to arrest Wazir Ali Khan and when necessary, the King of Oudh himself. Colonel Powell had been ordered to make ready a force of 300 men of the 53rd and some artillery but nothing was actually happening as yet. Cavanagh himself was to wait for further instructions.
Tired, Cavanagh went home. He might have been thinking of sleep, or at least breakfast but today was not that kind of day.
On my return home I found my quarters besieged by a crowd of persons (none of them members of the higher classes composing ordinary Calcutta society) seeking shelter
in the fort, and full of rumours of the worst description. One gentleman told me that all the Europeans had been murdered at Dumdum and the natives were arming in
Calcutta, and that, as I was responsible for the safety of the town and the inhabitants had a right to look to me for protection, it was my duty at once to seize all arms that could be discovered.

When I informed him that in the existing state of the law it was out of my power to interfere, and that moreover as I had been in communication with Dumdum that morning and had sent troops there for the protection of the residents, I much doubted the accuracy of his statement with respect to occurrences at that station, he observed that I was evidently one of those persons who would not acknowledge there was any danger, and that perhaps I would believe him, when he told me the name of the first officer that had been killed.
I could not but reply that possibly my incredulity might be shaken by his affording me this information, upon which he said, ” Well, sir, Captain S. was the first person killed;” when in answer to this, as he considered conclusive evidence, I stated that I was happy to say at that moment Captain S. was on court-martial duty at the main guard in Fort William, my friend walked off in high dudgeon.
After some time, by pointing out to his companions that measures had already been taken to prevent the march of the Barrackpore mutineers into Calcutta, and for quelliing: any
outbreak that might’ occur, which was not at all likely, in the town itself, I succeeded in allaying their fears and persuading them to return to their homes.”

Cavanagh only saw what happened at the Fort.
George Bruce Malleson happened to be in Calcutta as well and he saw the panic for himself. It was of course Sunday and the like minded were all attending church service.

Colonel George Bruce Malleson

Nothing untoward happened though the congregation at the Garrison Church would remark they heard what sounded like heavy material being moved out of the fort.
One enterprising gentleman, somewhat more impressed by the noise than others, went after the service, which ended around 11 am, to make some calls. His first stop was at the Secretaries to Government. He could not get any satisfactory answers from these erstwhile gentlemen and thus, curiousity unabated, he returned home. Two hours later, he received a note from one of the self same secretaries he had called upon earlier – the regiments at Barrackpore had mutinied and were in “full march on Calcutta.” The lives of all Europeans were undoubtedly in the gravest of danger – would the gentleman and his wife “proceed at once to his (the writer’s) house, where they had a good stone staircase and five good rifles..” There was no time to be lost!
The gentleman was rather one who preferred to trust his own judgement and declined the secretary’s offer. Instead, he went onto the roof of his own house which commanded a view of the plain between Chowringhee and the Fort. This gentleman of course, was none other than George Bruce Malleson and the sight which met his eyes was baffling.

City Map of Calcutta, 1800s
Fort William and Cowringhee Gate, 1800’s.

” It has been said by a great writer that ‘there is scarcely a less dignified entity than a patrician in a panic’ The veriest sceptic as to the truth of this aphorism conld have doubted no longer had he witnessed the living panorama of Calcutta on the 14th of June. All was panic, disorder, and dismay. The wildest reports were in circulation. It was all but universally credited that the Barrackpur brigade was in full march on Calcutta, that the people in the suburbs had already risen, that the King of Oudh, with his followers, was plundering Garden Reach.
Those highest in office were the first to give the alarm. There were Secretaries to Government running over to Members of Council, loading their pistols, barricading the doors, sleeping on sofas; Members of Council abandoning their houses with their families, and taking refuge on ship ; crowds of lesser celebrities, impelled by these examples, having hastily collected their valuables, were rushing to the fort, only too happy to be permitted to sleep under the fort guns. Horses, carriages, palanquins, vehicles of every sort and kind, were put into requisition to convey panic-stricken fugitives out of the reach of imaginary cut-throats. In the suburbs almost every house belonging to the Christian population was abandoned. Half-a-dozen determined fanatics could have burned down three parts of the town. A score of London thieves would have made their fortunes by plundering the houses in the neighbourhood of Chauringhi which had been abandoned by their inmates.”

Sir John Kaye makes the following observation in Volume III of the The History of the Sepoy Mutiny:

Dr. Mouat adds, “The whole line of the ghauts was crowded with fugitives, and those who could find no shelter on the ships, took refuge within the Fort, of which the squares, the corridors, all the available space everywhere, indeed, were thronged by many, who passed the night in their carriages.” Since writing the text I have seen Dr. Mouat. He tells me that his remarks apply to the Christian population of the suburbs, who were mostly Eurasians. In this I am in perfect agreement with Dr. Mouat. Nothing could exceed the courage and steadfastness of the members of thee mercantile and trading community. In his journal, written at the time , and quoted by Sir Joim Kaye, Colonel Cavenagh, then the highest official in the Fort, recorded as follows : —” On my return home, I found my house besieged by all sorts of people wishing to obtain shelter in the Fort, and all full of rumours of the worst description from Damdamah and Barrackpore.” Colonel Cavenagh, however, did not observe any unusual number of vehicles inside the Fort. They were probably refused admittance, for the author saw them “dashing across the plain towards the Fort with reckless speed.”

The panic had been percipitated by rumours, similar to those in May. It was generally known that the sepoys in Barrackpore were disaffected and grumbling. General Hearsey had said as much in his note to Cavanagh the night before. The sepoys had been watching the arrival of regiment after regiment from Persia, from Pegu and from Ceylon with growing alarm – undoubtedly they felt if they were going to mutiny then it had to be on the 14th. It was sepoys like Hanuman Dhobi and others who had in their turn betrayed them.

The 78th (Highlanders) Regiment of Foot (or The Ross-shire Buffs), India, 1852

The 78th Highlanders were ordered down immediately from Chinsurah while the government was being urgently requested to allow the remaining Barrackpore regiments to be disarmed.
The Highlanders did make it to Barrackpore – but they had spent a weary night walking in what was effectively circles. Their guide had made a show of leading them four miles out of their way. One detachment broke off from and recovered the road themselves, arriving in Barrackpore early the next morning, tired and undoubtedly annoyed, but very much ready for any emergency. Their arrival caught the would be mutineers off guard.
The remainder of the 78th finally arrived during the course of the day, and by 4pm, with permission from Calcutta secured, the native regiments were paraded and disarmed. Without any hesitation and in perfect silence, they piled their arms and dispersed.

Entrance to Barrackpore, 1848, Charles D’Oyle, courtesy of the British Library

The Last King of Oudh
While Calcutta caught its breath and the great and good warily made their way back to the homes they had so readily abandoned, the last King of Oudh, Wajid Ali Shah was about to get a visit.

When he left Lucknow, the Nawab took his children with him while his siblings, divorced wives and close relatives were left behind.

On the morning of the 15th of June, the Foreign Secretary, Mr. Edmonstone accompanied by a detachment of Europeans went to Garden Reach where the King held his court.
Informing him in no uncertain terms that his name had been used to stir up mischief in Calcutta, it was deemed a political necessity for him to be removed to a different residence – namely, the house of the Governor-General inside Fort William. Behaving with dignity, the King protested in quiet terms his innocence, that he had in no way been involved with the mutineers nor did he encourage their actions. However, he would do as he was told and “declared himself ready to go where ever the Governor-General might think fit.”

Wajid Ali Shah, the last Nawab of Awadh as an old man. Photograph taken at Garden Reach

His prime minister, Ali Naki Khan and a few other nobelmen were selected to accompany him into this impromtu imprisonment, and although the action itself prompted no disturbance, it left the men who had been speaking in his name without any power. If anyone owed the EICo no loyalty, it was the wrongfully deposed king. His imprisonment in the Governor’s House would last until 1859. The mutiny dashed his hopes of ever regaining his thrown and hewould never return to Lucknow. Nawab Wajid Ali Shah died on September 21st, 1887 in Calcutta, at Garden Reach (Metiaburz) the small Lucknow he had created in exile.

„Shedding tears we spend the night in this deepening dark,
Our day is but a long struggle against an uphill path,
Not a single moment goes when we don’t bewail our lot,
Lo! we cast a lingering look on these doors and walls.
Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar!
We wish you well, O friends, leave you to His care,
And entrust our Qaiser Bagh to the blowing air,
While we give our tender heart to terror and despair.
Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar!
I am betrayed by my friends, whom should I excuse?
Except God the gracious, I have no refuge,
I can’t escape exile, under any excuse.
Lo, we cast a lingering look on the doors and walls,
Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar!
I have been told this much too, ah! the scourage of time!
The servant calls his master ‘mad,’ a travesty of the mind.
As for me, I cannoy help, but rot in alien climes.
Lo, we cast a lingering look on these doors and walls,
Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are gong afar!
This is the cause of my regret, to whom should I complain?
What wondrous goods of mine are subjected to disdain,
My exile has raised a storm in the whole domain.
Lo we cast a lingering look on the doors and walls,
Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar!
You cannot help but suffer, O heart, the sharp strings of grief,
They didn’t spare even the things essential for the mourning meets,
In the scorching summer heat, I’ve no cover or sheet.
Akhtar now departs from all his friends and mates,
There is little time or need to dwell upon my fate,
Save, O God, my countrymen from the dangers lying in wait!
Lo, we cast a lingering look on these doors and walls,
Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar!“
-Nawab Ali Shah, writing under his pen-name Akhtar, from K.C. Kanda,”Masterpieces of Patriotic Urdu Poetry” p. 63-67

The Resolutions of Lord Canning
Calcutta would continue to exist in a state of panic though the only notable one would occur in July – however on the scale of it, Panic Sunday would remain in everyone’s memories for time to come.
On the 30th of May, the Legislative Council passed Act XIV which would, on one blow, sweep away all notions of justice in any province or district where rebellion showed itself. It placed unfettered power into the hands of the executive officer “whatsoever his rank, his age, or his wisdom.” The Act stated that anyone declaring themselves openly as against the government, “should be liable to the punishment of death, transportation or imprisonment, gave the Executive Government of any Presidency or Place power to proclaim any district as in a state of rebellion, and to issue a Commission forthwith for the trial of all persons charged with offences against the State, or murder, arson, robbery, or other heinous crime against person or pro- perty—the Commissioner or Commissioners so appointed were empowered to hold a Court in any part of the said district, and without the attendance or fatwah of a law officer, or the assistance of assessors, to pass upon every person convicted before the Court of any of the above-mentioned crimes the punishment. And the judgement of such Court, shall be final and conclusive, and the said Court shall not be subordinate to the Sadr Court.”
While this gave unrestricted power to the civil authorities, it was soon amended to included the senior military officer as well, regardless of rank, “at any military station in the Bengal Presidency, to appoint General Courts-Martial, either European or Native, or mixed, of not less than five members, and ” to confirm and carry into effect, immediately or otherwise, any sentence of such Court-Martial.”
What Canning and his council did not realise at the time, in their panic, that they had just sanctioned the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands of Indians whether civilians or military, who could now be killed just for looking side ways at a European.
This came home to them with force in June when the reports of hundreds of hangings in Allahabad came to light and proved to be true: the authorties there were using the act to the utmost of its legality and dealing out punishments often regardless of an actual trial. This gave Canning and his council a pause to think as critcism of these and other killings in the name of the supression of the mutiny came to light. Not wanting to look like the sanctifier of slaughter, Canning made an amendment to Act XIV.

He did not repeal it, nor did he in any way remove the powers he had so wantonly given out in the first place. He sent out detailed instructions in July on what he actually meant with Act XIV in the first place and how to use it. Canning sought to draw a distinction between sepoys from regiments that had mutined and killed their officers and other Europeans, and those who had been disbanded and had returned peacefully to their villages without engaging in any violence. This resolution further called for trial by military tribunal of mutineers and deserters of those men who were innocent of bloodshed. Canning further called for investigations and leniancy for those who could prove they were not present when any particular autrocity was commited. He was openly resisting the calls for vengence that were being spouted the length and breadth of India. Although this resolution was never meant for public distribution, it eventually made it into the hands of the press both in India and in England and would be used to shred the reputation of Lord Canning into rags, gaining him the unfair title of “Clemency Canning.”
Canning however understood what the hysterical press and his vengeful critics did not: if the British were going to continue their rule in India or indeed win over the mutiny, they could not do so by alienating the Indians.

“As long as I have breath in my body, I will persue no other policy than that I which I have been following – not only for reasons of expidency…but because it is just. I will not govern in anger.
– Lord Canning in a letter to Lord Granville,11th December, 1857

We will see in later chapters just what Act XIV looked like in practice. But for now we shall close the chapter on Calcutta and turn our attention back to the districts.

Appendix to Papers Relative to the Mutinies in the East Indies, Inclosures in Nos. 7 to 19. Supplement to the Papers Presented July 1857
Reminiscences of an Indian Official – General Sir Orfeur Cavanagh, K.C.S.I. (1884)
Kaye’s and Malleson’s History of the Indian Mutiny, Vol. I, (1914), Vol. II (1889) Vol. III (1889) and Vol. VI (1889)
The Mutiny of the Bengal Army By One Who has Served Under Sir Charles Napier – Anon (1858)

The Indian Mutiny – Saul David (2003)

Further Reading:
Empire News, The Anglo-Indian Press Writes India – Priti Joshi, ISBN 9781438484143 (ebook), Suny Press, 2021