One month later, 34 Infantry battalion had settled down in Meerut contonment. Meerut garrison was the seat of Company’s Military Adjutant General. Major General J.B. Hearsy was its Commanding Officer. Both the generals were unsympathetic to the sentiments of the native sepoys.
Colonel Douglus was an intelligent officer and he understood the feelings of the natives although he had put on an act of being ignorant before Havildar and Mangal at Barrackpore. He had sounded the commanding officer there about the cow and pork fat issue. The C.O too realised the seriousness of the matter. He lost no time in intimating the office of the Governor General Lord Canning at Calcutta about the fat issue.
At Meerut too Colonel Douglus met Major General Hearsy to apprise him of the problems the new cartridges could create for them. After hearing him Hearsy remarked, “Is this a serious matter, Colonel?”
“Very serious, sir. Please try to understand that cow is worshiped by Hindus and considered as their divine mother. Eating beef is unthinkable for them. And Muslims hate the pig as their religion tells them that it is the most unholy and the filthiest creature on earth. You can imagine what would happen if it was proved that the cartridges we issue contain cow or pig fat. We should take it seriously.”
“I see. That is very interesting. I can guess how their minds work. Good study you have done. But do tell me if these new consignment of cartridges really contain those things. I mean those fats?”
“How do I know, sir? This thing blew up in Barrackpore somehow. It may just be a mischief monger’s canard. So far, no one really knows the truth, the fact. The ammunition factories in England do use lard as grease. Someone has taken the lead from there.”
“Well done, Colonel. We appreciate your concern. I will talk to the A.G. about it. Keep your ears to the ground and don’t give any rope to the sepoys.”
Colonel Douglus departed. He had a feeling that Hearsy was not really appreciative of his assessment.
Meanwhile Barrackpore command had written a letter about the cow and pig fat in cartridges to the A.G. for information and advice. The A.G. was not very alarmed. He could not believe that such a minor thing could shake the government. He in consultation with Major General Hearsy wrote back—
‘Stand firm. No laxity should be used in dealing with the Indian sepoys. The wax or fat has always been in use long since. It is nothing new. Don’t allow the sepoy to get carried away by the rumours. Hindustanis are habitual of hurting themselves with imaginary grievances…”
Meanwhile, the rumour of cow and pig fat greased cartridges had broken out of the barracks and was spreading in civilian areas.
At a typical market place, a Muslim vegetable vendor was talking to a moatly crowd of customers or onlookers. They were all having butterflies in their stomaches and dying to throw crude jokes at one another. The vendor said to a pundit who had smeared his forehead with sandalwood paste and a long lock of hair sprouted from his skull top. “Well, well, punditji, what do I weigh for you? Take some of these shiny brinjals. They are just made for you. I bought them from the old Barrackpore area. They are polished with fresh cow fat. Will make tasty bhurta.”
The pundit shuddered, “Harey Ram! Harey Ram!! So you have heard it too. I will spit on those brinjals. Mind you I am not a Company sepoy to lick at the cow fat treated cartridges. What a devilish thing these firangis are doing to our people. Fie on them!”
The bystanders laughed as the pundit spat on the ground. A Hindu asked, “Jumman Mian! Today your shop is full of special items. I hope those lemons are also Barrackpore specials for your own Muslim customers to add taste to their korma. They are supposed to yield pig fat when squeezed. Ha ha!”
The Muslims there angrily exclaimed ‘Tauba! Tauba!!’ The pundit got his chance to belch out a mighty laughter.
The vegetable vendor remarked, “The Muslim sepoys who work for the infidel British are pigs. Dojakh (Hell) they will go to.”
The pundit shook his head, “Mian! It is the firangis who should go to the hell. They are deliberately desecrating the dharma of our people, be it Hindu or a Muslim.”
A Mulla type spoke, “We will sent those firangis to hell. The day of the uprising is not far away. We will stand together and settle scores with the white enemy.’’
A farmer said, “I hope the day comes soon. The firangis have ruined us. I was a share cropper in the village. These firangis came and ruined everything. Now there is no work in the village and here I am carrying loads of bricks for others.’’
The people nodded their heads in sympathy.
The vegetable vendor revealed, “Brothers, do you see that poor old man pushing that heavily loaded hand cart over there? That man had a khaddi in his village and he used to make a good living by weaving cloth. Then, firangis came and all hell broke loose. His khaddi closed down as his products found no buyers. He migrated to this town and that is how he is now making two ends meet. Poor man!”
“Such injustice can’t last long,” a man predicted.
The Mulla nodded his head approvingly and added to the invective, “These white infidel will pay for their crimes. Allah surely will strike a blow to them for us. Zulm will come to an end. The only thing needed is that we must remain united and forget our local differences. When the call comes everyone of us shall arises against the firangi, Insha Allah.”
All the heads nodded in agreement.
