1851-1856, The Pre-Mutiny Years
What Sindh needed was a reformer, a man with experience but not one who had grown old in the service. A man of imagination, free of the prejudices of Napier and the pencils of Pringle, a man who, with vision and enough administrative talent to set Sindh on the path to success. With no Lawrences to spare, and no one in the current administration of either Bombay, Bengal or Madras suitable to take on just such a task, the EICo made a controversial appointment, one that would require referral to the Board of Directors in London before it was approved. His name had been put forward by the new Governor of Bombay, Lord Falkland, who, with a glowing recommendation, stated frankly there was only one man for the job, and that was the very young and energetic 35-year-old Henry Bartle Frere.
Falkland’s arguments for Frere’s appointment were not based on any personal preference. Although he knew the man and liked him, Falkland had seen Frere work, and there was something quite charismatic about this young civilian that Falkland was sure would work in Sindh. Frere was free of many of the prejudices that plagued the civil service in India; he was not a member of the landed gentry back in England, his father, Edward, was the manager of Clydach Ironworks, and he did not possess the aspirations of a nabob, enriching himself on the backs of the people of India. As a young boy, he had expressed a desire to take on any profession that would ensure he could travel, be it a soldier, a missionary or a doctor, but the kindly attention of a family friend, Mr Astell, MP for Bedfordshire, who also happened to sit on the Board of Directors for the EICo, secured for young Bartle a nomination to Haileybury in 1832.
Frere remained at Haileybury for a year and a half and graduated with medals and prizes in several departments. This is borne out by “Memorials of Old Haileybury”, in which Frere is stated as having had quite the school career.
It was no surprise that when he left Haileybury in December 1833, he was at the top of the list for service in India and given a choice of any of the three Presidencies. While it might not have seemed the most exciting decision, it was also the most logical – with his older brother William already serving as a civil servant in India, Bartle chose to follow him to Bombay. Instead of the regular route, Frere’s journey to India would be somewhat more picturesque. On 3 May 1834, he sailed for Malta, where he spent a month with his uncle, Hookham Frere, a rather rebellious man in his views but one who kept a fine house and a magnificent library; it was here that Bartle began to learn Arabic having for his teacher none other than the celebrated traveller Dr Joseph Wolff, who after a mere four weeks was satisfied that Frere would be capable of “scolding his way through Egypt.” With that, and the blessings of his uncle, Frere set sail for Alexandria on 7 July. Here he met up with four young men all destined for India, and they decided to travel the rest of the way together. They explored Cairo and Kossier, a port in Upper Egypt where they believed they might find a ship bound for India; as there was none to be had, like the young tourists they were, they visited Thebes and Luxor, Carnac and Kenneh. At Kenneh, realising there really was nothing for it but to return to Kossier, they hired tents and camels and crossed the desert.
As it turned out, the steamer they had presumed would stop at Kossier was one that never sailed past Ceylon; the only way to get to India now, without returning to England, was to find passage down the Red Sea; with the help of the British consul, they hired a seaworthy fishing boat that would take them to Mocha, a distance of 900 miles. It was a long and interesting journey, and if Frere still held out dreams of being a traveller, this trip likely would have fulfilled some of them. They touched port at Yembo, the port of Medina, sailed to Jeddah, and were caught in a heavy storm out at sea that nearly swamped their craft, and were nearly attacked by pirates. After 16 days at sea, they finally reached Mocha, and one of their companions booked his passage for Madras, his presidency of choice; the other four would now proceed by Arab dhow to Bombay. In the company of 20 pilgrims bound for home on the last vessel to sail that season, Frere and his companions finally touched land in Bombay on 23 September 1834.
“Frere, on landing, went to his bankers to get some money and to inquire the way to the house of his brother William, a civil servant, who was living in Bombay. But no ship from England had arrived, and his story of the way he had come was scarcely believed. When he went to Messrs. Forbes’, he was detained in conversation, while a clerk was sent to the harbour to make inquiries; and he could not for some time establish his identity. He next went to his brother’s house, but they had not met for four years; William Frere did not recognise the tall figure and sunburnt face, and Bartle had to tell him his name before he realised that he was not a stranger.”
For the next three months, Frere set himself the daunting task of passing the language exams, which for the Bombay Presidency consisted of Hindustani (Urdu/Hindi) and Marathi or Gujarati, depending on the officer’s specific posting in western India. The tests were overseen by a specialised Examination Committee and evaluated practical conversational fluency, dictation, and the translation of official documents (often referred to as rubkarees). His goal was to secure a posting in Belgaum, a station he had been assured had opportunities for shikar. It would be the only time in his career he would put himself forward for a position, and as it was, he was sent to Poona instead. Frere continued to impress his superiors, who noted that the young man certainly had a zest for learning not just languages but customs. A contemporary of Frere’s who was serving with him in 1835, recalled,
“In those days, there was only one Revenue Commissioner, under whom there was a covenanted European assistant, and a native officer denominated the Dafterdar. This was Mr. Narso Laxuman, a competent officer of wide experience, and conversant with all the details of revenue matters. It was from him that Sir Bartle Frere, then young in years, received an insight into the practical working of the revenue affairs of this Presidency. Unlike the officers of the present day, young Frere was always seen sitting on the carpet by the side of old Narsopant Tatia, for whom he entertained the highest respect, and to whom he used to call by the respectful name of’Kakaje’ (elder uncle). Whatever difficulties Sir B. Frere had, he used to ask for a solution thereof unreservedly to Mr. Narsopant. He studied the Maratha language, and so great was his mastery over it that he read all manuscript official papers himself, without the aid of a shirastidar. He used to rise early in the morn¬ ing, take a walk for an hour or so, and then return home, after which he used to sit with his Munshi for learning Urdu and Persian, and his Pandit the Guzerati and Kanarese languages, for a couple of hours, then he used to bathe, have the morning nasta (breakfast), and go to office, where he used to work till 4 or 4.30 p.m. every day. Afterwards, he used to go riding for purposes of recreation.“
Frere soon impressed his colleagues with his free and open nature, his consideration and kindness, something which he gave not just to his British compatriots but to the Indians he worked with every day and “In the matter of promotion, he always had at heart the welfare of his own subordinates, whom he promoted to a higher pay and sent them to other offices, and in return picked up others, and brought them up in his own. So he kept everyone pleased. His private servants, even, were treated with the utmost consideration and civility.”
After Poona, where he served as Assistant to the Principal Collector, Frere’s career reads very much like a civil service handbook for aspiring candidates. He returned to Bombay as assistant to the Revenue Commissioner in 1839 as Deputy Register to the Sudder Diwani and Sudder Foujdarry Adawlut, in 1840, assistant to the Revenue Commissioner of Bombay, two years later promoted to Private Secretary to the Governor Sir George Arthur and in 1845, he returned to England on furlough for two years. In 1847, Sir George Clerk nominated Frere for the position of Resident at Satara as James Outram, the current resident, was heading home on furlough. Outram, who had seen his share of annexation in Sindh, would see another state gobbled up by the East India Company in the future – Oudh. Yet Satara would be left to Bartle Frere to witness first-hand.
One year after Frere’s appointment, the Raja of Satara, Shahji II died without leaving a natural, biological male heir; he had however, shortly before his death adopted a son to succeed him but the EICo, cheered on very much by Lord Dalhousie, Governor of India, refused to recognise the adoption and utilising the Doctrine of Lapse, Satara was seized by the British, becoming the first major state to be annexed entirely by the doctrine. For Frere, it was a shocking state of affairs, and in this case, the EICo dragged its feet considerably. After 13 months and with many pleas on the adoptee’s behalf sent to them by not only Frere but also members of the court, the directors decided in Dalhousie’s favour for the complete annexation of Satara. Wisely, Frere now held his tongue. He desisted from expressing his opinions openly and keeping the best interests of the people of Satara in mind, Frere decided to work with his employers instead of fighting against them and their decisions.
For the last thirteen months, Frere had been acting on behalf of the deceased Raja; with the annexation now in force, his tenure as “ad interim Rajah” ended. There was little doubt in anyone’s mind that a man who had invested so much in the state of affairs of Satara should be the man elected to the first commissionership, and Frere did not decline the offer. He had been unable to prevent the annexation. Still, he now found himself in the unique position of ensuring the process of transference to British power would be “as little galling as possible,” for the people he admired and respected.
Mutiny Reflections 