refuse the cartridges, and to resist if force should be attempted by the Government; and the incendiary fires at the different stations were intended by the Sepoys as a warning to their Officers and to their Government of the feelings which had taken possession of the Native army. Such truly was the origin of the mutiny.' This is the one fact that, in Sir John Lawrence's opinion, stands clearly out; the intrigues and false stories that were rife within and without the army would not have drawn the army from its allegiance, had it not been already penetrated by the unfortunate belief about the cartridges; nor would such an ill-feeling have so speedily arisen, had the army not been for years in an unsound state. There was no proof of a general conspiracy for the overthrow of the English rule; there was no evidence, even in the records of the palace at Delhi which were ransacked, that, until he was in the hands of the mutineers, the King had seriously dreamed of the restoration of his power.
But this view does not account for the phenomena. It may be admitted that, even perhaps in Oudh, the evidence is insufficient to connect the revolt with popular discontent. But in some places—at Muzaffarnagar, Saháranpur, Farukhábád, and elsewhere—after the success of the military outbreak at Meerut and Delhi, the populace rose before the Sepoys. The leaders, in their Proclamations, dwelt much on alleged bad faith, earth-hunger, and interference with the Native religions, citing the cartridges as only the last
