Forty-one years in India Part 71

Thus the opportunity was lost to which I had looked forward as a chance for settling many vexed questions, and I am afraid that there has been very little improvement in our relations with Abdur Rahman since then, and that we are no nearer the completion of our plans for the defence of his kingdom than we were four years ago[9]--a defence which (and this cannot be too strongly impressed upon the Amir) it would be impossible for us to aid him to carry through unless Kabul and Kandahar are brought into connexion with the railway system of India.

In the autumn, just before we left Simla, our friends bestowed upon my wife a farewell gift in the shape of a very beautiful diamond bracelet and a sum of money for her fund for 'Homes in the Hills, and Officers'

Hospitals,' made doubly acceptable by the kind words with which Lord Lansdowne, on behalf of the donors, presented it. Shortly afterwards we bade a regretful adieu to our happy home of so many years, and made our way to the Punjab for a final visit.

We spent a few days at Peshawar, and then went to Rawal Pindi to be present at a Camp of Exercise, and see how the works under construction for the protection of the a.r.s.enal were progressing.

These works had been put in hand in 1890, when, according to my recommendation, it had been decided not to fortify Multan. No place in the Punjab appeared to my mind to possess the same military value as Rawal Pindi, its strategical importance with regard to the right flank of the frontier line being hardly inferior to that of Quetta in relation to the left flank; but of late the advisability of completing the works had been questioned by my colleagues in Council, greatly to my concern, for I felt that it would be unwise to leave the elaboration of the defences of such a position until war should be imminent.[10]

In January, 1893, a series of farewell entertainments were organized for me at Lah.o.r.e by the people of the Punjab, as touching as they were highly appreciated, and intensely gratifying. Amongst the crowds a.s.sembled in the Town Hall to bid me good-bye, I was greatly pleased to see, besides the Maharaja of Kashmir, Chiefs and men from beyond our frontier, from Kuram, from the confines of Baluchistan, even from the wilds of Waziristan; for their presence on this occasion I felt to be, not only a proof of their kindly feeling towards me personally, and of their approval of the measures for their safety and welfare that I had always advocated, but a very distinct sign of the much to be desired change that was taking place in the sentiments of the border tribes towards us as a nation.

Four addresses were presented to me, from the Sikh*, Hindu*, Mahomedan*, and European* communities of the Punjab, respectively, which I will venture to give in the Appendix, as I feel sure that the spirit of loyalty which pervades them will be a revelation to many, and a source of satisfaction to all who are interested in the country to which we owe so much of our present greatness, and which I conceive to be the brightest jewel in England's crown.

(See Appendices XII, XIII, XIV, AND XV.)

It was a wonderful and moving scene upon which we looked from the platform of the Town Hall on this memorable occasion, made up as it was of such different elements, each race and creed easily recognizable from their different costumes and characteristics, but all united by the same kindly desire to do honour to their departing friend, or comrade, for there were a great number of old soldiers present.

At each place that we visited on our way to Calcutta there was the same display of kindly regret at our departure; friends a.s.sembled to see us off at the railway-stations, bands played 'Auld lang syne,' and hearty cheers speeded us on our way.

In February we went to Lucknow for a few days, when the Talukdars of Oudh gave my wife and me an entertainment on a very splendid scale in the Wingfield Park, and presented me with an address[11] and a sword of honour.

On our return to Calcutta, just before we left for England, the European community entertained me at a dinner, at which more than two hundred were present, presided over by Sir James Mackay, K.C.I.E., Chairman of the Calcutta Chamber of Commerce. Sir James was far too kind and eulogistic in speaking of my services, but for his appreciative allusion to my wife I could only feel deeply gratified and thankful. After dinner a reception was given to Lady Roberts and myself, at which the Viceroy and Lady Lansdowne and all the princ.i.p.al Native and European residents of Calcutta were a.s.sembled. An address[12] was presented to me on this never-to be-forgotten occasion, in which, to my supreme satisfaction, the Native n.o.blemen and gentlemen expressed their hearty approval of what had been done during my tenure of office as Commander-in-Chief to strengthen the defences of the frontier and render the army in India efficient, and declared that 'we cheerfully bear our share of the cost, as in possession of these protections against aggressions from without we believe all who dwell within the borders of the land will find their best guarantee for peace, and in peace the best safeguard they and their children can possess to enable them to pa.s.s their lives in happiness and prosperity, and escape the misery and ruin which follow war and invasion.'

We travelled to Bombay _via_ Jeypur and Jodhpur. At both places we were royally entertained by the Rulers of those states, and my staff and I were given excellent sport amongst the wild boar, which was much enjoyed by all, particularly by my son, who, having joined the King's Royal Rifles at Rawal Pindi, was attached to me as A.D.C. during my last six months in India, and had not before had an opportunity of tasting the joys of pig-sticking.

At Jodhpur my friend the Maharaja Sir Pertap Sing gave us a signal proof that the ancient valour of the Rajputs had not deteriorated in the present day. I had wounded a fine boar, and on his making for some rocky ground, where I could hardly have followed him on horseback, I shouted to Sir Pertap to get between him and the rocks, and turn him in my direction. The Maharaja promptly responded, but just as he came face-to-face with the boar, his horse put his foot into a hole and fell; the infuriated animal rushed on the fallen rider, and, before the latter could extricate himself, gave him a severe wound in the leg with his formidable tushes. On going to his a.s.sistance, I found Sir Pertap bleeding profusely, but standing erect, facing the boar and holding the creature (who was upright on his hind-legs) at arms'

length by his mouth. The spear without the impetus given by the horse at full speed is not a very effective weapon against the tough hide of a boar's back, and on realizing that mine did not make much impression, Pertap Sing, letting go his hold of the boar's mouth, quickly seized his hind-legs, and turned him over on his back, crying: '_Maro, sahib, maro!_' ('Strike, sir, strike!') which I instantly did, and killed him. Anyone who is able to realize the strength and weight of a wild boar will appreciate the pluck and presence of mind of Sir Pertap Sing in this performance. Fortunately, my wife and daughter, who had been following the pig-stickers in a light cart, were close at hand, and we were able to drive my friend home at once. The wound was found to be rather a bad one, but it did not prevent Sir Pertap from attending some tent-pegging and other amus.e.m.e.nts in the afternoon, though he had to be carried to the scene.

A few months after my return to England the boar's head arrived, set up, and with a silver plate attached to it, on which was an inscription commemorating the adventure.

At Ahmedabad, where the train stopped while we lunched, I was presented with an address by the President and members of the Munic.i.p.ality, who, 'with loyal devotion to Her Imperial Majesty the Queen and Empress of India, to whose glorious reign we sincerely wish a continuance of brilliant prosperity,' expressed their hope that Lady Roberts and I would have 'a happy voyage home and enjoyment of perfect health and prosperity in future.'

The day before we left Bombay for England, the members of the Byculla Club gave me a parting dinner. It was with great difficulty I could get through my speech in response to the toast of my health on that occasion, for, pleased and grateful as I was at this last mark of friendship and approval from my countrymen, I could not help feeling inexpressibly sad and deeply depressed at the thought uppermost in my mind, that the time had come to separate myself from India and my gallant comrades and friends, British and Native.

In dwelling on the long list of farewell addresses and entertainments with which I was honoured on leaving India, I feel that I may be laying myself open to the charge of egotism; but in writing of one's own experiences it is difficult to avoid being egotistical, and distasteful as it is to me to think that I may be considered so, I would rather that, than that those who treated me so kindly and generously should deem me unmindful or ungrateful.

Thus ended forty-one years in India. No one can, I think, wonder that I left the country with heartfelt regret. The greater number of my most valued friendships had been formed there; from almost everyone with whom I had been a.s.sociated, whether European or Native, civilian or soldier, I had experienced unfailing kindness, sympathy, and support; and to the discipline, bravery, and devotion to duty of the Army in India, in peace and war, I felt that I owed whatever success it was my good fortune to achieve.

[Footnote 1: The late Lieutenant-General Sir W.K. Elles, K.C.B.]

[Footnote 2: A detachment of the Calcutta Volunteer Rifles, at the particular request of the regiment, took part in the expedition, and did good service.]

[Footnote 3: The pay of the Native Infantry has been suitably increased since I left India.]

[Footnote 4: _Jagirs_ are grants of land.]

[Footnote 5: _Batta_, extra allowances given to Native soldiers when proceeding on field service.]

[Footnote 6: During the Mutiny the casualties amongst the British officers with the six Punjab regiments which saw the most fighting amounted to 60 per cent.! Luckily, these were able to be replaced by officers belonging to corps which had mutinied. This supply, however, has long since been used up, and it behoves the Government either to provide an adequate reserve of officers, or to arrange for a sufficient number being sent out from England whenever India is likely to be engaged in a serious war.

+---------------------------------------------------------------------+ Number of CASUALTIES Officers +------------------------------------------+ CORPS. who did Killed Died Duty with in of Died of In- each Corps. Action. Wounds. Disease. Wounded. valided. +-------------+------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+ 1st Punjab Cavalry (1 squadron) 12 1 ... ... 6 7 2nd Punjab Cavalry 20 1 ... ... 5 4 5th Punjab Cavalry (1 squadron) 7 1 1 ... ... ... 1st Punjab Infantry 15 3 ... ... 6 ... 2nd Punjab Infantry 22 3 ... ... 4 3 4th Punjab Infantry 24 2 3 2 8 ... +-------------+------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+ Total 100 11 4 2 29 14 +-------------+------------+-------+-------+--------+--------+--------+]

[Footnote 7: Captain Younghushand was at Bozai-Gumbaz, and Lieutenant Davison on the Alichur Pamirs, both places being south of the Aksu branch of the Oxus, flowing from the Little Pamir Lake.]

[Footnote 8: The Infantry comprised twenty-four battalions drawn up in line of quarter columns. The Artillery consisted of one battery (six 7-pounders) carried on elephants, six batteries (six guns each, 5-pounders and 7-pounders) dragged by soldiers, and six batteries (six guns each, 3-pounders and 5-pounders) carried by Bhutia coolies.]

[Footnote 9: I am not unmindful of the visit which Sir Mortimer Durand paid to Kabul after I had left India, but on that occasion, I believe, the question of the defence of Afghanistan was not discussed.]

[Footnote 10: The works were stopped after I left India, but not, I was glad to think, before the redoubts had been finished, with the communications thereto. The reasons given were that a change of plans was necessary for economy's sake, and that the construction of fortifications might induce the Natives to think we were doubtful of the continuance of our supremacy. As regarded the first, I explained that the total outlay for works and armaments was estimated at only 332,274--considerably less than one half the cost of a British line-of-battle ship; and as to the second, I urged that an argument of this sort against frontier defences would hardly bear examination; that the possibility of external attack was freely discussed in every newspaper; that Russian movements and frontier difficulties were known and commented on in every bazaar; that the construction of fortifications in support of the Ruling Power had been an Oriental practice from time immemorial; that our action in this respect was at least as likely to instil the idea that we meant to retain our eastern possessions at any cost, as to give an impression of weakness; that the progressive re-organization and mobilization of our army were well known to have reference to service beyond the frontier; and that we had extended our confidence in this respect to Native Princes by encouraging them to train their own troops and fit them to take their place in line with ours.]

[Footnote 11: Given in the Appendix. (Appendix XVI.)]

[Footnote 12: _Ibid._ (Appendix XVII.)]

APPENDIX

APPENDIX I.

(See Chapter XIV, Footnote 4.)

The 9th Native Infantry, to which Captain Donald Stewart belonged, was divided between Aligarh, Mainpuri, Bulandshahr, and Etawa, Stewart being with the Head-Quarters of the regiment at Aligarh.

The news from Meerut and Delhi had caused a certain amount of alarm amongst the residents at Aligarh, and arrangements had been made for sending away the ladies and children, but, owing to the confidence placed in the men of the 9th, none of them had left the station.

Happen what might in other regiments, the officers were certain that the 9th could never be faithless to their salt! The Native officers and men were profuse in their expressions of loyalty, and as a proof of their sincerity they arrested and disarmed several rebel sepoys, who were making for their homes in Oudh and the adjoining districts.

As a further proof, they gave up the regimental pandit for endeavouring to persuade them to mutiny. He was tried by a Court-Martial composed of European and Native officers, found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged. The sentence was carried out that same afternoon. It was intended that the regiment should witness the execution, but it did not reach the gaol in time; the men were therefore marched back to their lines, and Stewart, in his capacity of Interpreter, was ordered to explain to them the purpose for which they had been paraded. While he was speaking a man of his own company shouted out something. Stewart did not hear the words, and no one would repeat them. The parade was then dismissed, when the same man, tearing off his uniform, called upon his comrades not to serve a Government which had hanged a Brahmin. A general uproar ensued. The Commanding Officer ordered the few Sikhs in the regiment to seize the ringleader; they did so, but not being supported by the rest they released him. The Subadar Major was then told to arrest the mutineer, but he took no notice whatever of the order. This Native officer had been upwards of forty years in the regiment and was ent.i.tled to his full pension. He had been a member of the Court-Martial which tried the pandit, and, though a Brahmin himself, had given his vote in favour of the prisoner being hanged; moreover he was a personal friend of all the officers. Stewart, who had been for many years Adjutant, knew him intimately, and believed implicitly in his loyalty. The man had constantly discussed the situation with Stewart and others, and had been mainly instrumental in disarming the sepoys who had pa.s.sed through Aligarh; and yet when the hour of trial came he failed as completely as the last-joined recruit.

The British officers went amongst their men and tried to keep order, but the excitement rapidly spread; some of the young soldiers began to load, and the older ones warned the officers that it was time for them to be off. The sepoys then plundered the treasury, broke open the gaol doors, released the prisoners, and marched in a body towards Delhi.[1]

Stewart, being thus left without a regiment, attached himself to the magistrate of the district, and took command of a small body of volunteers sent from Agra by the Lieutenant-Governor of the North-West Provinces, to aid the civil authorities in restoring order. Not caring for this work, and thinking he might be more usefully employed, Stewart made up his mind to find his way to Delhi; his idea was to try and get there _via_ Meerut, but before deciding on the route, he went to Agra, where he had been invited by the Lieutenant-Governor. At the interview, Mr. Colvin advised Stewart to travel _via_ Muttra, as the safer of the two routes, and told him that despatches had been received from the Government in Calcutta for the Commander-in-Chief, then understood to be with the army before Delhi. At the same time the Lieutenant-Governor impressed upon Stewart that he was not giving him any order to go, and that if he undertook to carry the despatches it must be a voluntary act on his part, entailing no responsibility on the Government of the North-West Provinces.

Stewart accepted the duty, and took his leave of Mr. Colvin as the sun was setting on the 18th June, delighted at the chance of being able to join the army before Delhi. He reached Muttra, thirty-five miles distant, without mishap. The streets of this city were crowded with men, all carrying arms of some sort; they showed no signs of hostility, however, and even pointed out to Stewart the house of which he was in search. The owner of this house, to whose care he had been commended by the Agra authorities, was a Brahmin holding an official position in the town. This Native gentleman behaved with civility, but did not attempt to conceal his embarra.s.sment at the presence of a British officer, or his relief when Stewart announced his intention of resuming his journey an hour or so before daybreak.

The Brahmin provided him with two sowars belonging to the Raja of Bhartpur with orders to accompany him as far as Kosi. They were cut-throat-looking individuals, and Stewart felt rather inclined to dispense with their services, but, thinking it unwise to show any signs of distrust, he accepted them with the best grace he could.

After riding fifteen or sixteen miles, Stewart's horse fell from exhaustion, on which his so-called escort laughed uproariously, and galloped off, leaving our poor traveller to his own devices.

Believing the horse could not recover, Stewart took off the saddle and bridle and tramped to the nearest village, where he hoped to be able to buy or hire an animal of some kind on which to continue his journey. No one, however, would help him, and he was forced to seize a donkey which he found grazing in a field hard by. About sunset he reached Kosi, thirty-seven miles from Muttra. The _tehsildar_[2]

received him courteously, and gave him some bread and milk, but would not hear of his staying for the night. He told him that his appearance in the town was causing considerable excitement, and that he could not be responsible for his safety. Stewart was much exhausted after his hot ride, but as the _tehsildar_ stood firm there was nothing for him to do but to continue his journey, and he consented to start if he were provided with a horse. The _tehsildar_ promptly offered his own pony, and as soon as it was dark Stewart set out for the Jaipur camp.

His progress during the night was slow, and it was not until eight o'clock the next morning that he reached his destination, where he was hospitably received by the Political Agent, Major Eden, who introduced him to the Maharaja's Wazir. This official at first promised to give Stewart a small escort as far as Delhi, but on various pretexts he put him off from day to day. At the end of a week Stewart saw that the Wazir either could not or would not give him an escort, and thinking it useless to delay any longer, he made up his mind to start without one.

There were several refugees in the camp, and one of them, Mr. Ford, collector and magistrate of Gurgaon, offered to join Stewart in his venture.

Stewart and his companion left the Jaipur camp on the afternoon of the 27th June, and reached Palwal soon after dark. Ford sent for the _kotwal_,[3] who was one of his own district officials, and asked him for food. This was produced, but the _kotwal_ besought the _sahibs_ to move on without delay, telling them that their lives were in imminent danger, as there was a rebel regiment in the town, and he was quite unable to protect them. So they continued their journey, and, escaping from one or two threatened attacks by robbers, reached Badshahpur in the morning. Here they rested during the heat of the day, being kindly treated by the villagers, who were mostly Hindus.