On 7th February 1856, Lord Dalhousie, the British Governor General of India, issued an order to depose Wajid Ali Shah, King of Awadh (Oudh), thereby initiating its full annexation to the British East India Company. Despite a long tradition of spasmodic disorder and resistance to government, Bengal and the south, long under British rule, did not feel the disaffection of reform with the same simmering discontent as Northwest India. Instead, their resentment primarily stemmed from a swingeing re-allocation of crippling land taxes, and religious intolerance, with one such incident serving as the final trigger for the Indian Mutiny of 1857.
The rebellion, otherwise named the Sepoy Mutiny, began when the Sepoys of the Bengal army refused to use rifle cartridges that were thought to be lubricated with grease containing a mixture of pigs’ and cows’ lard, and thus forbidden in the Muslim and Hindu religions respectively. The Bengal army was recruited not from Bengal itself but from northern India, especially Awadh. For numerous years, the Sepoys bravely fought for the British, albeit under their own conditions. However, a soldier named Mangal Pandey, stationed in the city of Meerut, 80 km northeast of Delhi, initiated the uprising when he shot his British officer. By May, Sepoy turncoats had revolted against British commanders in every cantonment, and they were joined by tens of thousands of discontented civilians. They marched and took Delhi, in the process massacring vast numbers of British soldiers, an action that was vehemently retaliated.



In 1849, at the tender age of 24, Sir Dighton Probyn entered the light cavalry arm of the East India Company’s Bengal Army as a cornet. Born in Marylebone, London, Probyn was a militaristic proponent of dress. As the mutiny rapidly expanded geographically throughout 1857, Probyn was now Captain of the 2nd Punjab Cavalry and he would earn his spurs at the Battle of Agra, as famously detailed by a dispatch from Major General James Hope Grant KCB, dated 10th January 1858, which exclaimed: ‘In single-handed combat with a sepoy, he was wounded in the wrist by the bayonet, and his horse also was slightly wounded; but, though the sepoy fought desperately, he cut him down. The same day he singled out a standard bearer and, in the presence of a number of the enemy, killed him and captured the standard. These are only a few of the gallant deeds of this brave young officer’.
But to emphasise his staunch commitment to turning out with Royal Ascot-like vigour and panache, witness the dress designed for the 2nd Punjab Cavalry, which Probyn commanded, frequently referred to as Probyn’s Horse. Lieutenant E.H. Verney, RN, said of him: ‘Two bodies of irregular Sikh cavalry, one Probyn’s, are attached to the main army; his is distinguished by wearing a blue turban. Their dress consists of the whitey-brown ‘kharki’, each man is armed with a tulwa and a brace of pistols, and one or two troops with lances.’

In 1872, Probyn returned to England to serve as equerry to the Prince of Wales, later Edward VII, and he accompanied the Prince on his four-month tour of the Indian Subcontinent in 1875. Probyn was not only a unique royal courtier for the Indian tour, but the Prince was dependent on him in so many aspects of his life, not least in keeping the Prince and Princess of Wales’s treasures in order. Even today, or at least when a twenty-two-year-old junior cavalry lieutenant named Winston Churchill joined the British forces during the bloody campaign against Afghanistan’s Pashtun tribesmen on India’s North West Frontier in 1897, it’s unlikely that another royal courtier has accumulated such an illustrious and varied list of honorary awards as Probyn.
People remember the Prince of Wales for his extravagant lifestyle, which included everything from elite thoroughbreds to poker, and he was also a notorious womaniser, which went hand-in-hand with his authority on correct dress; he was prone to publicly upbraid courtiers who erred sartorially. It’s unlikely another British bespoke tailor can claim to own archival documents that exceed Henry Poole & Co.’s for their royal and aristocratic clients. The Prince of Wales confided in his friend Henry Poole on visits to 15, Savile Row, and so it’s no surprise that in turn Probyn’s orders in Henry Poole & Co. ledgers reflect the courtier’s obsession with wearing the correct orders to satisfy his chief.



But back to Churchill – in 1897 he was an aspiring correspondent for the London Daily Telegraph. As he told his friend Reggie Barnes, he spent most days during the North West Frontier campaign with the 11th Bengal Lancers and the evenings in the General’s Mess. On September 12th, Churchill’s camp was under sniper fire. He was having dinner with Major-General Sir Bindon Blood, the immaculately dressed and unblemished commander who earned the moniker of “the father of the British Army” in his New York Times obituary, when suddenly a bullet hummed over their heads.
Shortly after, Blood ordered Brigadier General Patrick Jeffreys to move against the tribesmen; however, they faced deadly resistance, and so Blood sent for Churchill to participate in a little fighting, an opportunity he had much desired. Emblematic of Churchill, he didn’t seek to blend in, but bought and mounted a striking grey horse. Soon after riding out with a force of 1,000 fighting men in the tribal holdings of the Muhammed Valley, they were set upon and Churchill, defending the second knoll, had to withdraw to a third knoll, where they were toppled by gunfire, which killed Churchill’s fellow officer. He retreated but, admirably, with other survivors he dragged his fallen comrades down the hill.

The chronicle of Churchill’s early foray into combat is only a small contribution to his peerless legacy, but may also give an insight into how the Bengal striped shirt received its name. The regiments of the Bengal Lancers drew their names from the Bengal Cavalry, converting at various times, with the majority dating back to the 1860s. By the time the 18th regiment converted from Bengal Cavalry to Bengal Lancers in 1886, they had established a well-regulated regimental uniform. However, the people of Britain knew very little about Indian army uniforms until 1887, when representatives of various regiments were brought to London to join the celebrations of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee.
One of those was the splendidly attired Risaldar-Major Nadir Ali Khan, whose silver shoulder chains featured three stars to denote his high rank. The blue cummerbund was fringed and decorated with the teardrop designs adopted by Paisley. His belts were gold-laced, with a blue central silk stripe. The waistbelt clasp was gilt, with a silver regimental badge. The turban, also known as the lungi, featured stripes of blue and white that, if looking with a beady-eye for even spaced patterns, is a match or closely replicates the pattern of the Bengal striped shirt we recognise in sartorial menswear circles today, supporting the inconclusive claims that the Bengal stripe was initially taken from stripes used in local cloths, as worn by the Bengal Lancers.



The Lives of a Bengal Lancer (1935), based on a 1930 novel of the same name written by Francis Yeats-Brown, stars the Hollywood leading and best-dressed man Gary Cooper who, unlike in real life, doesn’t appear to exhibit any Bengal stripes in the film. Regardless of the confirmed origin of the Bengal striped shirt, its perpetual flexibility in pairing with various garments and surroundings is undeniable. The width of the Bengal stripe is characterised by its even spacing, as it consistently alternates between different colours and white. However, the width, while always matching, can vary from wider to thinner. The blue and white Bengal striped shirt’s enduring virtue undoubtedly places it at the top of the sartorial menswear hierarchy.
At Alexander Kraft Monte Carlo it is certainly not a new phenomenon to witness a perennial garment given new artistic yet timeless details. Meticulously crafted from luxurious Egyptian 2-fold cotton by the best hands in a small, family-owned atelier in Puglia, the AK MC blue and white Bengal striped Signature shirt features the label’s distinctive 2-buttoned spread collar. We’re in an era where time pressure and the competitiveness of life can boil over your restraint. There are unlikely to be many entrepreneurs whose lives demand such frequent travel for such a variety of engagements as Mr Kraft, while maintaining that blessed aura of restraint. It’s an attribute of his that never wavers, and it is only enhanced by the quality and the way in which such outfits are sported.



As the advection of hot air in Europe diminishes, it’s a period when alpaca and lambswool fibres, both heralded for their softness, warmth, and durability, flourish. For the weekend, Mr Kraft often retires from the new magnificent AK MC flagship store in Monaco in his custom Aston Martin DB6, retreats to one of his French hideaway properties, and adds the recently added beige herringbone alpaca/lambswool Signature jacket to his enviable collection, which is a comfortable travelling jacket, and to exude smart-casual, either one of his Bengal striped shirts, worn with an open neck, or the off-white cotton corduroy Gurkha pants are superlative combinations. If there’s an important meeting in the Hotel Hermitage Monte-Carlo, the Bengal striped shirt featuring French cuffs adds a touch of formality to an AK MC blazer or navy Signature jacket and trousers, and without a doubt a double-breasted waistcoat crafted from a superior fabric is a discernible partner.
As eluded to the Bengal striped shirt, depending on your preference, appear in thinner and wider stripes, but if you’d rather portray a more discreet aesthetic, the two AK MC thinner Bengal stripes really do deliver that guise, especially if your traipzing around town wearing a bespoke pinstripe suit from a renowned tailor, it nicely softens that muscular appearance. Flashy stripes are prevalent in all sections of society today, but when paired with the right attire, the Bengal striped shirt remains the most versatile and understated striped shirt.