My three years in Manipur : $b and escape from the recent mutinyGrimwood, Ethel St. Clair
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My three years in Manipur : $b and escape from the recent mutiny
Grimwood, Ethel St. Clair
Grimwood, Ethel St. Clair, 1867-1928; Manipur (India)
Cachar or Silchar—We are fêted there—The hill tribes: Kukis,
Tongkhuls, etc.—Their dress and habits—Rest houses, and
difficulties therein—Manipuri Sepoys: camp on the Makru
River—Logtak Lake—Colonel Samoo Singh—The Senaputti.
Cachar, or rather Silchar, deserves a description, as it has been of such
importance during the recent troubles at Manipur. The town is about one
hundred and thirty miles from the Manipur capital, but only twenty-four
miles from the boundary. The state of Manipur is separated from the
Cachar district by a river called the Jhiri, where we have outposts
garrisoned by troops. Silchar itself is not a very large station, though
it boasts of more Europeans than most Assam districts, there being a
regiment always quartered there besides the usual civil authorities. The
district has a very large planting community, and abounds in tea-gardens;
and as the planters are constantly in and out, there is a very fair
amount of gaiety, especially in the winter months, when there are always
two or three race meets, each lasting for a week, which bring people in
from far and near.
Silchar has seen much trouble during the last year. In September, 1890,
the Lushai disaster occupied everyone’s attention, and troops poured
through the place on their way to the hills about Fort Aïjal to avenge
the treachery of the tribes inhabiting those regions—treachery which
resulted in the loss of two valuable lives. A few weeks later curiosity
was rife to see the ex-Maharajah of Manipur, who had been driven from
his throne by his brother the Senaputti, and was passing through on his
self-imposed pilgrimage to the sacred city of Brindhaban on the Ganges,
accompanied by three of his brothers. Christmas brought the usual round
of races, dances, and dinners with it; but the sound of the Christmas
bells had scarcely ceased when the New Year brought tidings of a disaster
which caused men’s faces to pale, and almost out-rivalled the horrors of
the mutiny. But I am anticipating events, and must return to ourselves
and our experiences three years earlier.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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