My three years in Manipur : $b and escape from the recent mutinyGrimwood, Ethel St. Clair
History
My three years in Manipur : $b and escape from the recent mutiny
Grimwood, Ethel St. Clair
Grimwood, Ethel St. Clair, 1867-1928; Manipur (India)
Meanwhile the days went by, and at last only one week remained before the
Chief’s arrival, and by that time we knew that he was bringing an escort
of four hundred men with him and several officers; but we did not know
how long they were going to stay, or why so many were coming, or whether
they were going on to Burmah. A telegram had come some days previously,
telling my husband to get coolies ready to take the party to Tummu, and
he thought from that that it was Mr. Quinton’s intention to pay a visit
to that part of the valley; but everything seemed uncertain, and the
Manipuris were very curious to find out what it all meant.
About a week before the Chief arrived Mr. Gurdon was sent on to see my
husband, and talk over matters with him; but even then we were ignorant
of what was really intended, and it was only on the day before they all
arrived—Saturday, March 21—that my husband was told all by Mr. Quinton
himself, whom he had ridden out ten miles to meet. He started out in the
morning for Sengmai, the first halting-stage on the road to Kohima from
Manipur, and on his arrival he wired to me, telling me to expect eleven
to breakfast the next day, which, with ourselves, Mr. Melville, and Mr.
Simpson, made fifteen.
Mr. Simpson and I went for a ride that evening, and as we were returning
we both remarked the great number of Manipuri Sepoys we met, hurrying
into the citadel. They swarmed along the road, and on getting near the
big gate of the palace we had some difficulty in getting our horses
through the crowds which were streaming into the fort, and I was quite
glad when we got back safely into the Residency grounds again. My husband
returned about seven from Sengmai, very tired and very much worried
at all he had heard. I went into his little private office with him,
and there he told me of what was to take place on the morrow, making
me promise not to breathe a word of it to either Mr. Melville or Mr.
Simpson, as it was to be kept a dead secret. He wrote off at once to
the Regent, telling him that the Chief Commissioner would hold a durbar
on the following day at twelve, at which he hoped all the princes would
appear, and then we went away and had dinner. It was difficult to talk
of other things while our minds were full of the information my husband
had received, and I was very glad when the evening ended, and our two
visitors had gone to bed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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