The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-07-07
THE MUTINY AT VELLORE.


endangered our Eastern empire. An order,
relative TO shaving, equally interfering with
native notions of caste, and quite as ill-judged,
produced an earlier mutiny, on more con-
fined scale, at Vellore, which exploded most
UNEXPECTEDLY on the nj ght of the 9th of July,
1906, and was specially signalized by the muir
der, amongst many others, OF an oincer Oh
rank and merit who commanded IN Ohe IoI-
tress, Colonel Fancourt. Nothing Tore
shadowed the movement, which burst IKE
fhunder-clap from summer cloud.
This was long considered very menoIaoino ~
episode in our Indian annals, unth IL
Siwindled into insignihcance when colnPNou
with the comprehensive and sweeping at
+orant CO recentlv and arduously suppressed
Ip Gleiois EfFistory of British India" we
and this p9raoraph:-''There occurred under
s;r C,eor6e Barlow's administration mutlny
anono the native troops in the Carnatic, of
which. though sufficiently alarming at that
moment it were out of place to give here any
detailed account. Enough is done when we
state that an injudicious order respecting
some points of dress appearing at moment
when missionary exertions CHANGED to be un-
usually great, the sons of Tippoo and their
adherents took advantage of the circumstance
to excite, to a furious degree, the religious
preiudices of the Sepoys. They rose IN re-
beliion at Vellore, put to death many Euro
mean officers and q considerable portion OF the
69th Regiment, and were not quoted at last
till Colonel Gillespie, at the head OF body OF
dragons, had sabred large number OF them.
For a time serious apprehensions were enter
tanned lest the disposition should prove gene
raj: but this, ON inquiry, was found not to be
the case The obnoxious orders were re-
pealed and the troops returned everywhere
to their allegiance.
The following narrative of the earlier re-
volt in 1906 contains particulars never made
public, and was written at the time by Mrs.
Fancourt, widow of the Colonel who was mas
sacred in the outbreak. The MS, in her own
handwriting, was given by her to q near and
dear relative and friend of the present writer
as an authentic document, without any re-
strictions as to its future use. Many readers
may take an interest in the recital, which
would lose its value if altered in the slightest
degree. We therefore give it as originally
written
ACCOUNT OF THE MUTINY AT vELLoRE ON THE
NIGHT OF THE 9TH OF JULY, 1906.
Colonel Fancourt and 1 retired to rest on
Wednesday evening a little after o'clock
About 2, on Thursday morning, we were both
awakened at the same instant by loud firing
We both got out of bed, and Colonel Fan
court went to the window, which was open,
and called aloud and repeatedly to know the
cause of the disturbance. He received no
firing from vast number of Sepoys assembled
at the main-guard. Colonel Fancourt then
went down stairs, and in few minutes re-
turned to his writlng-room, and requested me
to bring him light. l instantly did so, and
placed it on the table. He then sat down to
write, and / shut the window from which he
had spoken to the Sepoys, fearing some shots
might be directed at him as he sat, for they
were then firing in all directions from the
OF 1nF1 I.N,lr lrnI al I
saw him turn as pale as ashes. l said Good
God! what can be the matter, my dear st.
John ?" To which he replied, $50 into your
own room, Amelia. l did so, for saw his
mind was so agitated did not think it right
to repeat my question at that moment.
heard him. two minutes after, quit the writing
room and go out of the house.
Between 2 and o'clock believe the
firing at the main-guard ceased and the drums
beat, which 1 afterwards heard was owing to
my husbands exertions to quiet the Sepoys.
There was no more firing for some time.
After my husband left the house l think he
returned again, though, as imagine, but fo1
moment. l certainly heard the door of the
writing room tried, very soon after the frino
at the main-guard ceased; but having, after
he left me- bolted the door, if it was he, he
could not enter, and went away again without
saying anything When heard the door at
tempted, called out, ''St. John, is it your
to which 1 received no answer, and whoeve
it was, he quilted the house Immediately.
81 then bolted all the doors in my own
room, and brought my children into it.
fell on my knees and fervently prayed tina
Colonel Fancourt's endeavors to restore peac
in the garrison might be crowned with success
and his life spared through the mercy o
God. dressed, and twice cautiously openet
the hall-door and felt my way to the lowe
end To look where there WAS most firino E
perceived it was chiefly directed at tn
European barracks.
''The last time ventured from my room
between the hours of four and five, as l stoo
at the lower end of the hail. which was quit
open to the veranda, a figure approached me
1t was so dark / could only see the red Goa
by the light of the firing at the barracks.
was dreadfully frightened, expecting to b
murdered; and having left the children in tn
bedroom, dreaded that their last hour wa
come also. l had, however, courage to ask
who is there ? The answer received wa
Madam, / am an officer. 1 then said, 'Bu
who are you? The gentleman answered,
am an officer of the main-guard.' l inquire
what was the matter. He said it was mutiny
that every European on the guard had bee
murdered except himself, and that we shoul
be murdered also. / made no reply, bu
walked away to the room where my babes an
female servants were. The officer went OF
at the opposite door of the hall where we hs
spoken together, and never got down stat
alive, for he was butchered most cruelty
Colonel Fancourt's dressing-room. 1 hay
since heard that his name was Lieutenal
O'Reilly, 1st Battalion, 1st Regiment of NatiN
Infantry.
''When / had this conversation with I'll
aforementioned officer, / began to think
unsafe to quit my own room again. As SOC