CHAPTER XVI.

INDIA.
DUTY OF A GOVERNOR-GENERAL TO VISIT THE PROVINCES—PROGRESS TO THE NORTH- WEST—BENARES—SPEECH ON THE OPENING OF THE RAILWAY—CAWNPORE—GRAND DURBAR AT AGRA—DELHI—HURDWAR—ADDRESS TO THE SIKH CHIEFS AT UMBALLA— KUSSOWLIE—SIMLA—LETTERS: SUPPLY OF LABOUR; SPECIAL LEGISLATION; MISSIONARY GATHERING; FINANCE; SEAT OF GOVERNMENT; VALUE OF TRAINING AT HEAD-QUARTERS; ARISTOCRACIES; AGAINST INTERMEDDLING—THE SITANA FANATICS— HIMALAYAS—ROTUNG PASS—TWIG BRIDGE—ILLNESS—DEATH—CHARACTERISTICS— BURIAL PLACE.

[Sidenote: Duty of a Governor-General to visit the Provinces.]

At a very early period of his stay in India, Lord Elgin formed the opinion, which was indeed strongly impressed upon him by Lord Canning, that it was 'of the greatest importance to the public interest that the Governor- General should see as much as possible of men and things, in all parts of the vast empire under his control; and that a constant residence in the narrow atmosphere of Calcutta had a tendency to impair his efficiency.' Writing to Sir C. Wood on the 17th of September, 1862, he said:—

No man can govern India in ordinary times, such as those in which we are living, if he is to be tied by the leg to Calcutta, and prevented from visiting other parts of the Empire. Canning, although he lived in times by no means ordinary, and although he was compelled by circumstances to be more stationary than he would otherwise have been, was as clear on this point as anyone. He urged me most strongly to proceed northwards at the earliest moment at which I could contrive to do so. When I referred to the difficulty which the assembling of the Council for legislative purposes might occasion, he assured me that he had never intended to make himself a slave of the Council; that he had taken the chair at the commencement of the proceedings, but that he should certainly have objected to the establishment of the principle that his presence was indispensable to its deliberations. He was especially anxious that I should tour, in order that I might satisfy myself as to how his arrangements affecting natives, &c., worked, before modifying them in any degree. And, apart from Canning's opinion altogether, this is a point on which I have had some personal experience. I have been now steadily in Calcutta for a whole hot season. No man, I venture to affirm, in the situation I occupy, has ever been more accessible to those who have anything to say, whether they be civilians, soldiers, or interlopers. But there is a blot on my escutcheon which can easily be hit by anyone dissatisfied with a judgment pronounced in my name. It can always be said: "What does Lord Elgin know of India? He has never been out of Calcutta. He is acquainted only with Bengal civilians and other dwellers in (what is irreverently styled) 'the ditch.'" Indeed, I fear that I am exposed to the same reproach in your circle. I see no remedy for this evil, if I am to remain constantly here.

[Sidenote: Projected tour.]

Starting from these premises he came to the conclusion, that 'it was better to organise a tour on a comprehensive scale, even though it involved a long absence from Calcutta, than to attempt to hurry to distant places and back again during successive winters.' Accordingly, it was arranged that as soon as the business of the Legislative Council was concluded, he should start for the north, and travel by easy stages to Simla, visiting all the places which he ought to see on his way. After spending the hot weather at the Hills, he was to proceed early in the next winter to the Punjab, inspecting it thoroughly, and returning before the summer heats either to Simla again, or to Calcutta, as public business might determine. For the Session, if so it might be called, of 1863-4, he was to summon his councillors to meet him somewhere in the north-west, at some capital city, 'not a purely military station, but where the Council might obtain some knowledge of local and native feeling such as did not reach Calcutta.' The spot ultimately fixed upon was Lahore, the capital of the large and loyal province of that name. The earlier part of the tour was to be made chiefly by railway, with a comparatively small retinue; but for the latter part of it he was to be accompanied by a camp, furnished forth with all the pride, pomp, and circumstance belonging to the progress of an Eastern Monarch, and necessary therefore in order to produce the desired effect on the minds of the natives.

[Sidenote: Railway to Benares.]

It was on the 5th of February, 1863, that the Vice-regal party left Calcutta. They travelled by railway to Benares, which they reached on the evening of the 6th. The first phenomenon which struck them, as Lord Elgin afterwards wrote, was the 'very sensible change of climate which began to make itself felt at some 250 miles from Calcutta.'

The general character (he said) of the country continued to be as level as ever; but the air became more bracing, the surface of the soil more arid, and the vegetation less rank. Hot mid-days, and cold nights and mornings, are substituted for the moist and comparatively uniform temperature of Lower Bengal, to a greater and greater degree with every step that the traveller takes towards the north.

The railway, with the exception of a portion near Calcutta, is a single line; but it is perfectly constructed, and with no great regard to cost. The vagaries of the water-floods, which, during the rainy season, sometimes pour down in unmanageable force from the Ganges and sometimes rush towards it from the opposite side of the railway line, have constituted the great engineering difficulty of the work. Some very remarkable bridges and other constructions of this class, to permit the free passage of water under the line, have been built. The most critical point has been to obtain a secure foundation in the sandy soil for these erections; and, strange to say, the principle adopted by our engineers, under the name of the 'Sunken Well' system, is the same as that followed by the great architects who built the famous 'Taj' of Agra. It will, it is to be hoped, prove successful; and these important works will remain an enduring monument of the benefits conferred on India during the present reign. Nothing that has been done by the British in India has affected the native mind so powerfully, and produced so favourable an impression, as these railway undertakings.

[Sidenote: Durbar.]

On the day after his arrival at Benares he held a Durbar—his first truly Oriental Durbar—which, though not comprising any independent chiefs, was attended by several native gentlemen of high consideration and large possessions. In addressing them, he took the opportunity of dwelling upon the improvement which recent measures had effected in their position, and the consequent increase of their responsibilities:

'It is the desire (he said) of Her Majesty the Queen that the native gentlemen of India should be represented in the Council of the Governor-General, in order that when laws are made for India their opinions, and wishes, and feelings may receive due consideration. It is my intention and duty to do everything in my power to give effect to Her Majesty's gracious intention in this respect. Among the rajahs and gentlemen here to-day are many who have large estates in the neighbourhood and along the line of railway which we travelled over yesterday. The value of those estates will be greatly enhanced by the completion of the important work of which we are about to-day to celebrate the opening. I need hardly remind them that they will owe this advantage to the introduction of British engineering skill and British capital into this country. I trust that the consideration of this fact, and of similar facts which are of daily occurrence, will tend to produce a kindly feeling between the races, by showing them to what an extent they may be mutually useful to each other. Meanwhile, I hope that the gentlemen whom I am addressing will turn these advantages to account by doing their utmost to improve their properties, and to promote the happiness and welfare of their ryots and dependents.'

[Sidenote: Railway dinner.]

In the afternoon of the same day he was present at a dinner given in celebration of the opening of the railway from Jumalpore to Benares. In the course of a speech which he made on that occasion, after referring to the fact that both his predecessors had taken part in similar celebrations, he said:—

In looking over the published report of these proceedings a few days ago, my attention was arrested by an incident which brought forcibly home to my mind one painful circumstance in which my position here to- day contrasts sadly with that which Lord Canning then occupied. At a stage in the proceedings of the evening, corresponding to that at which we have now arrived, he departed from the routine prescribed by the programme, and invited the company to join him in drinking the health of his noble predecessor, the Marquis of Dalhousie, who had, as he justly observed, nursed the East Indian Railway in its infancy, and guided it through its first difficulties. It is not in my power to make any similar proposal to you now. A mysterious dispensation of Providence has removed from this world's stage, where they seemed still destined to play so noble and useful a part, both the proposer of this toast, and its object. The names of both are written in brilliant characters on some of the most eventful pages of the history of India, and both were removed at a time when expectation as to the services which they might still render to India was at its height. I shall not now dwell on the great national loss which we have all sustained in this dispensation; but, perhaps, I may be permitted to say that to me the loss is not only a public one, but a private and personal calamity likewise. Both of these distinguished men were my contemporaries, both, I believe I may without presumption say, my intimate friends. It is a singular coincidence that three successive Governors-General of India should have stood towards each other in this relationship of age and intimacy. One consequence is that the burden of governing India has devolved upon us respectively at different periods of our lives. Lord Dalhousie when named to the Government of India was, I believe, the youngest man who had ever been appointed to a situation of such high responsibility and trust; Lord Canning was in the prime of life; and I, if I am not already on the decline, am at least nearer to the verge of it than either of my contemporaries who have preceded me. Indeed, when I was leaving England for India, Lord Ellenborough, who is now, alas! the only surviving ex-Governor-General of India, said to me, 'You are not a very old man, but depend upon it, you will find yourself by far the oldest man in India.'

Passing from these personal topics, after noticing the good fortune which had placed the formation of the railway system of India in the hands of a man who had in a special manner made that subject his own, he proceeded to speak of the future of Indian Railways, insisting especially on a point about which he felt very strongly, the necessity of their ceasing to depend on a Government guarantee, and adding some practical hints for their development and extension:

[Sidenote: Future of Indian railways.]

But, Gentlemen, however interesting it may be to refer to the past and to dwell upon the present, the most important questions which we have to answer relate to the future, and the most important of all in my opinion is this—to what agency are we henceforward to look if we would desire to extend as widely as possible, to all parts of India, the benefit of this potent instrument of modern civilisation? I have no hesitation in affirming at once, in answer to this question, that we must not look to an indefinite extension of a system of Government guarantees for the accomplishment of this object. In the first place, it would be wholly unjustifiable for any one object, however important, to place such a strain upon our finances as this policy would involve. In the second place, however justifiable and necessary a system of Government guarantees may be in certain circumstances, it is essentially an expensive one, because by securing to shareholders a minimum rate of interest on their capital it weakens in them the motives to economy, and because by dividing the responsibility for expenditure between Government and Railway Officials, it diminishes in the latter the sense of responsibility. Moreover, the indefinite extension of a system of Government guarantees is wholly incompatible with the endeavour to bring private enterprise largely into play for the execution of these works; while there is an unlimited call for capital for works enjoying the protection of a Government guarantee, it is not to be expected that capital will be forthcoming to any extent for similar works which have not that protection. For the accomplishment, therefore, of the great object to which I am referring, we must henceforward, I apprehend, look to private enterprise; not perhaps to private enterprise wholly unaided by the State, but at any rate, to private enterprise not protected by Government guarantee. But if so, what are the conditions which will entitle railway enterprises of this class to the countenance and encouragement of the Government? I lay it down as a fundamental principle, that we ought to look to the eventual establishment of one uniform railway gauge for the whole of India. The experience of England is conclusive as to the inconvenience of a double or conflicting railway gauge. After the expenditure of an untold amount of money in Parliamentary conflicts, the broad gauge of England has been compelled to take the narrow gauge on its back, and the whole capital expended upon the former may be said to have been thrown away. But what does this resolution in favour of an uniform gauge imply? It will, I think, be admitted that the main object of an uniform railway gauge is to enable the several railway lines to exchange their plant in order to avoid transhipment of freight. But if the plant of the subsidiary line is to be transported along the main lines, it must be sufficiently well finished to be fitted to travel in safety at high speed; and if the plant of the main lines is to travel along the subsidiary lines, the latter must have rails sufficiently heavy, and works of construction sufficiently substantial, to support it. Moreover, where streams or rivers are encountered they must be bridged. In short, the subsidiary lines must be built in a manner which would make them nearly as expensive as the main lines; in other words, railways must not be introduced into any part of India where we cannot afford to spend from 13,000_l_. to 15,000_l_. a mile upon them. I am not prepared to accept this conclusion. I have been a good deal in America, and I know that our practical cousins there do not refuse to avail themselves of advantages within their reach, by grasping at those which are beyond it. In 1854, I travelled by railway from New York to Washington. We had several ferries to cross on the way, but we found that the railway with the ferries was much better than no Railway at all. In short, in America where they cannot get a pucka railway, they take a kutcha one instead. This, I think, is what we must do in India. There are many districts where railways costing 3,000_l_. or 4,000_l_. a mile might be introduced with advantage, although they would not justify an expenditure of from 10,000_l_. to 15,000_l_. a mile. We have only to be careful that kutcha lines are not mistaken for pucka ones—that they are not allowed to set up a rival system as against the main lines, or to occupy ground which should be appropriated by the latter.

[Sidenote: Carriage dâk to Allahabad.]

As the railway from Benares to Allahabad was not yet complete, Lord Elgin and his suite performed this part of the journey by carriage dâk. They travelled by night; 'each individual of the party occupying his own separate carriage, and being conveyed along at a hand gallop by a succession of single ponies, relayed at stages of four to five miles in length.' In the letter which describes this, he adds the characteristic remark:

'These ponies do not lead very happy lives, and, here as elsewhere, a diminution in the sufferings of the brute creation will be one of the blessings attending the introduction of a railway system.'

At Allahabad he inspected, among other things, the works which were in progress for making a railway bridge across the Jumna.

This is (he wrote) in some respects the most interesting of that class of engineering operations which has been already mentioned: because whereas in other cases clay has been found beneath the sand, and the foundation wells have been sunk into it, no bottom has been discovered to the sand which constitutes the bed of the Jumna; and the wells in question are required to stand firm in this most unstable of all foundations.

[Sidenote: Cawnpore.]

From Allahabad Lord Elgin proceeded by railway to Cawnpore; where, on the 11th of February, he took part in the impressive ceremony of the consecration of the Well, and other spots in its vicinity, containing the remains of the victims of the dreadful massacres which occurred at that place in 1857.[1]

He had intended from this point to visit Lucknow: but finding that time would allow of his doing this only in a very hasty manner, which he thought objectionable, he invited some of the principal Talookdars to come over to see him; which they accordingly did, under the guidance of Mr. Wingfield, the Chief Commissioner of Oude.

[Sidenote: Agra.]

From Cawnpore Lord Elgin journeyed, again by rail, to Agra, the 'key of Hindostan.' The following description of his arrival there is borrowed from his private secretary, Mr. Thurlow:[2]—

'Arrived at the railway station, Lord Elgin met with a reception worthy of the East. The road, thickly lined with native troops, crossed the Jumna by a bridge of boats, and wound along the river's bank beneath those lofty sandstone walls; then, mounting a steep hill and leaving the main entry into Agra Fort upon the right, the Taj remaining to the left, it led, through miles of garden ground, thickly studded with suburban villas, to the Viceroy's camp, that occupied the centre of an extensive plain, where tents were pitched for the accommodation of the Government of India, and an escort of ten thousand men. Beyond these were ranked, according to priority of arrival, the far-spreading noisy camps of those rajas the number of whose followers was within some bounds; and beyond them again stretched miles and miles of tents containing thousands upon thousands of ill-conditioned-looking men from Central India, and the wildest part of Rajpootana, the followers of such maharajas as Jeypoor, who marched to meet the Viceroy with an army of thirty thousand strong, found in horse and foot and guns, ready for the field.'

The six days spent at Agra Lord Elgin was 'disposed to rank among the most interesting of his life.'

Perhaps (he wrote) months of the monotony of a Calcutta existence may render the mind more sensitive to novelty and beauty; at any rate, the impressions experienced on visiting Agra at this time have been singularly vivid and keen. The surpassing beauty of the buildings, among which the Taj stands pre-eminent; the vast concourse of chiefs and retainers, combining so many of the attributes of feudal and chivalrous times with the picturesqueness in attire and gorgeousness in colouring, which only the East can supply; produced an effect of fairyland, of which it was difficult to divest oneself in order to come down to the sterner realities of the present. These realities consisted mainly in receiving the chiefs at private and public Durbars, exchanging presents and civilities with them, and returning their visits. The great Durbar was attended by a larger number of chiefs than ever before assembled on a similar occasion.'

[Sidenote: Grand Durbar.]

The Grand Durbar, or 'Royal Court,' was held on the morning of the 17th of February: a grander gathering, it was said, than even the great one held by Lord Canning in 1859. The scene was one of remarkable splendour—a splendour alien to the simple and unostentatious tastes and habits of the chief actor in it, but which he knew how to use with effect when taking his place as Suzerain in an Assembly of Princes. To aid us in conceiving it, we must have recourse to the picture sketched at the time in one of the Indian Newspapers.

'It is difficult to describe—without seeing it it is impossible to conceive,—a scene like that presented at a grand Durbar of this kind. One may imagine any amount of display of jewels, gold and glitter, gorgeous dresses, splendid uniforms, and handsome faces. You may see far more beautiful sights in the shape of court grandeur at our European palaces, at Versailles and St. James's; but nothing that will give you an idea of an Indian Durbar. The exhibition of costly jewels, the display of wealth in priceless ornaments and splendid dresses, the strange mixture of wealth and poverty, the means of accomplishing magnificence and splendour enjoyed to such profusion, yet rendered almost void to this end from want of taste! "Barbaric wealth," indeed, you behold; barbaric from its extent and profusion, and barbaric in the hideous use made of it. The host of chiefs, who sat on the right side of the huge Durbar tent, close packed in a semi-circle, and who rose as one man when the band outside began "God save the Queen," and the artillery thundered forth the royal salute, were a blaze of jewels. From underneath head-dresses of every conceivable form and structure—the golden crown studded with rubies and emeralds, the queer butterfly-spreading Mahratta cap, the close-fitting Rajpoot turban, the common pagree of the Mohammedan Chief, ordinary in shape but made of the richest material—from under each and all there are peering dark faces, and bright glancing eyes, eager to catch the first view of the great Lord Paramount of Hindostan. What a multitude of different expressions one notices while scanning that strange group of princes of royal descent, whose ancestors held the very thrones they now hold far back beyond the range of history. The scheming politician, the low debauchee, the debased sensualist, the chivalrous soldier, the daring ambitious descendant of a line of royal robbers, the crafty intriguer, the religious enthusiast, the fanatic and the sceptic side by side, you can trace in each swarthy face the character written on its features by the working of the brain within.'

'In the midst of such a scene, seated on a massive gold throne, with crimson velvet cushion, two lions of the same precious metal forming the arms; the whole standing on a square platform raised about ten inches from the ground, covered with a carpet of gold,' Lord Elgin addressed his princely audience; his voice 'clear and distinct, so that he could be heard easily at the further corner of the tent; every word seeming to be weighed and uttered as if he meant what he said:'

[Sidenote: Vice-Regal speech.]

Princes and Chiefs.—In inviting you to meet me here, it was my wish in the first place to become acquainted with you personally, and also to convey to you, in obedience to the gracious command which I received from Her Majesty the Queen, upon my departure from England, the assurance of the deep interest which Her Majesty takes in the welfare of the Chiefs of India. I have now to thank you for the alacrity with which, in compliance with my request, you have, many of you from considerable distances, assembled at this place.

Having received, during the course of the last few days, many of the principal personages among you in private Durbar, where I have had the opportunity of communicating my views on matters of interest and importance, I need not detain you on this occasion by many words.

Before taking leave of you, however, I desire to address to you
collectively a few general remarks upon the present state of affairs
in India, and upon the duties which that state of affairs imposes upon
us all.

Peace, I need hardly remind you of the fact, now happily prevails throughout the whole extent of this vast empire; domestic treason has been crushed; and foreign enemies have been taught to respect the power of the arms of England.

The British Government is desirous to take advantage of this favourable opportunity, not to extend the bounds of its dominions, but to develop the resources and draw forth the natural wealth of India, and thus to promote the well-being and happiness both of rulers and of the people.

With this view many measures of improvement and progress have already been introduced, and among them, I may name, as most conspicuous, the railway and electric telegraph, those great discoveries of this age which have so largely increased the wealth and power of the mightiest nations of the West.

By diffusing education among your vassals and dependents, establishing schools, promoting the construction of good roads, and suppressing, with the whole weight of your authority and influence, barbarous usages and crimes, such as infanticide, suttee, thuggee, and dacoitee, you may, Princes and Chiefs, effectually second these endeavours of the British Government, and secure for yourselves and your people a full share of the benefits which the measures to which I have alluded are calculated to confer upon you. I have observed with satisfaction the steps which many of you have already taken in this direction, and more especially the enlightened policy which has induced some of you to remove transit and other duties which obstructed the free course of commerce through your States.

As representing the Paramount power, it is my duty to keep the peace in India. For this purpose Her Majesty the Queen has placed at my disposal a large and gallant army, which, if the necessity should arise, I shall not hesitate to employ for the repression of disorder and the punishment of any who may be rash enough to disturb the general tranquillity. But it is also my duty to extend the hand of encouragement and friendship to all who labour for the good of India, and to assure you that the chiefs who make their own dependents contented and prosperous, establish thereby the strongest claim on the favour and protection of the British Government.

I bid you now, Princes and Chiefs, farewell for a time, with the expression of my earnest hope that, on your return to your homes, health and happiness may attend you.

[Sidenote: Muttra.]

Proceeding northwards from Agra, up the valley of the Jumna, they arrived, after three days' march, at Muttra.

The mornings (he wrote) are cool, almost cold; and were it not for clouds of dust, the marching would be pleasant, although the country traversed is flat, and not very interesting…. Muttra itself is interesting from the sanctity which the Hindoos attach to it. Special blessings are earned by those who bathe in the river here; and the town is consequently largely resorted to by pilgrims. A great many fairs are held at Muttra during the year, which enables the Hindoos who resort thither to combine devotion and business. To ride through the narrow streets of the sacred town on an elephant, and find oneself on a level either with the upper stories of the houses which are frequently decorated with elaborately carved oriel windows, or with the roofs on which holy monkeys in great numbers are disporting themselves, is a very curious spectacle.

[Sidenote: Delhi.]

On the 23rd of February the camp left Muttra; on the 3rd of March it was pitched under the walls of Delhi—'unquestionably the place of greatest interest' visited in this part of the tour.

The approach to it through ten miles of a desolate-looking campagna, thickly strewn with funereal monuments reared in honour of the sovereigns and mighty men of former dynasties, reminded me of Rome. The city itself bears traces of more recent calamities. The Palace has been a good deal maltreated, and the Jumma Musjid (Great Mosque), a magnificent building, has only just been restored to the worshippers. Beyond the town, and over the place where the camp was pitched, lay the heights which were occupied by the British troops, and signalised by so many deeds of valour, during the eventful struggles of 1857.

[Sidenote: Hurdwar.]

After resting for two days at Delhi, he pursued his course north-eastward, through Meerut to Hurdwar, on the Ganges—

a sacred place, near the point at which the great Ganges Canal leaves the river; resorted to by pilgrims, in vast crowds, from the Punjâb, Rajpootana, and other extensive districts in India. The Sikhs, who are a reformed Hindoo sect, hold Hurdwar in especial reverence. To this spot was conveyed, in order that it might here be cast into the sacred water of the Ganges, what remained, after its cremation, of the body of the great Sikh Chief, the Maharaja of Puttialla, whom Lord Canning placed in the Council of the Governor-General.

In another letter, written from the immediate neighbourhood of this place, he took a more practical and utilitarian view of its capabilities and prospects:

Hurdwar, where I have been spending two days, is a most interesting place. It is curious to see the old Faith, washing itself in the sacred waters of the Ganges, and the new Faith, symbolised in the magnificent works of the Ganges Canal. One regrets that these canals should be so little used for navigation purposes, or as sources of mechanical power; but there is some difficulty in combining navigation with irrigation works. Moreover, in passing through districts which are dependent on irrigation, one cannot help being deeply impressed with a sense of the danger which will ensue if canals are entrusted to private companies, unless they are bound by the most stringent conditions to keep their works in good order, and to supply water at reasonable rates. In the absence of such precautions, the population of whole districts might be, especially in famine years, entirely at the mercy of those companies.

[Sidenote: Umballa.]

From this point the vast camp took a north-westerly direction towards the military station of Umballa, which was reached on the 27th of March. On the following day Lord Elgin received in private Durbar a large number of influential Sikh chiefs, at the head of whom was the young Maharaja of the neighbouring state of Puttialla, the son and heir of the prince above mentioned. In addressing these chiefs, he showed his usual tact in adapting his words to the character and disposition of his hearers:—

The Sikhs (he afterwards wrote) are a warlike race, and the knowledge of this fact gave a colour to the advice tendered to them. It was my wish to recognise with all due honour their martial qualities, while seeking to impart a more pacific direction to their energies. The capture of half the capitals of Europe would not have been, in the eyes of the Sikh, so great an event, or so signal a proof of British power, as the capture of Pekin. They are proud of the thought that some of their race took a part in it; and more inclined than ever—which is an important matter—to follow the British standard into foreign lands, if they should be invited to do so.

He was careful also to make as much as he could of some feeble indications of a disposition to educate their sons, and even their daughters, which had been exhibited by the Sirdars in some parts of the Punjab; thinking that 'if an impulse in this direction could be imparted to the ruling classes among the natives, great results might be anticipated.'

The text of this address—the last address which he delivered—is as follows:—

[Sidenote: Address to the Sikh chiefs.]

Colonel Durand,—I beg that you will express to the native gentlemen who are assembled here my regret that I am unable to address them in their own language, and inform them that I am charged by Her Majesty the Queen to convey to them the assurance of Her Majesty's high appreciation of the loyalty and devotion to Her Majesty's person and Government which has been exhibited on various occasions by the Sikh rulers and people. Not many days ago it was my pleasing duty to determine that the medal granted to Her Majesty's troops who were engaged at Delhi in 1857, should be conferred on the followers of the Sikh chiefs who took part in the noble achievements of that period; and I can personally bear testimony to the good services of the officers and men of the Sikh regiments who, in 1860, co-operated with the British troops in placing the British flag on the walls of Pekin, the capital of the vast empire of China.

But, in order to be truly great, it is necessary that nations should excel in the arts of peace as well as in those of war.

Look to the history of the British nation for an example. Most assuredly the British people are powerful in war, but their might and renown are in a great measure due to their proficiency in the works which make a time of peace fruitful and glorious.

By their skill in agriculture, they have converted their country into a garden; by their genius as traders, they have attracted to it a large share of the wealth of other lands.

Let us take advantage of this season of tranquillity to confer similar benefits on the Punjâb.

The waters which fall on your mountain heights and unite at their base to form mighty rivers, are a treasure which, duly distributed, will fertilise your plains and largely augment their productive powers. With electric telegraphs to facilitate communication, and railways and canals to render access to the seaports easy and expeditious, we shall be able to convey the surplus produce of this great country to others where it is required, and to receive from them their riches in return.

I rejoice to learn that some of the chiefs in this part of India are taking an interest in these matters, which are of such vital importance to the welfare of this country and the prosperity of the people. It affords me, moreover, sincere gratification to find that, under the able guidance of the Lieutenant-Governor, the Sikh Sirdars in certain districts of the Punjâb are giving proof of their appreciation of the value of education by making provision for the education of their sons and daughters.

Be assured that in so doing you are adopting a judicious policy. The experience of all nations proves that where rulers are well informed and sagacious, the people are contented and willingly submissive to authority. Moreover, it is generally found that where mothers are enlightened, sons are valiant and wise.

I earnestly exhort you, therefore, to persevere in the course on which you have entered; and I promise you while you continue in it the sympathy and support of the British Government.

At Umballa Lord Elgin left the camp with which he had been travelling, and struck up, nearly due northwards, into the Hills. The 1st of April found him at Kussowlie, from which point he visited two places which greatly interested him—the 'Lawrence Asylum' and the Military Sanitarium at Dugshai.

[Sidenote: Lawrence Asylum.]

The 'Lawrence Asylum' (he wrote) is an institution originally established and endowed by the late Sir Henry Lawrence, but now transferred to Government, and maintained on an enlarged scale. It receives and educates the children of European soldiers, both male and female; and, considering what they are exposed to while they remain with the regiments, or are left as orphans, it is an immense boon to them, physically and morally. I found about 600 children at the institution; and, so far as I could judge on a transient inspection, the condition of things generally seemed satisfactory. Looking to the returns, however, it did not appear that the sanitary state of the school was quite as good as it might be, considering the fineness of the climate; and I desired that some inquiries might be made on this head. It is probable that the children may in many cases bring bad constitutions with them; but it also appeared that the dormitories were somewhat crowded, and that the uneven character of the surface rendered it difficult to provide playgrounds—both of which circumstances may be unfavourable to the health of the children.

[Sidenote: Dugshai station.]

The Military Station of Dugshai is situated on the pinnacle of a mountain about 7,000 feet high. It looks bare and bleak, from the total absence of trees; but the 42nd Regiment, now quartered there, had all the appearance of health, and there were few men in the hospital. The bad cases were those of men who had contracted at Agra, when they were stationed in the plains, dysentery and fever of a serious type, which were constantly recurring. The troops quartered on these hills not only enjoy a congenial climate, but are also kept out of the way of much mischief which they encounter on the lowlands. On the other hand, it appears that they suffer a little from want of occupation. It is curious to hear that hunting for butterflies is a favourite pastime of the British soldier at Dugshai. The colonel, however, informed me that the library and reading-room were much frequented by the men; he observed also that many of the patches of flat ground which lie scattered among the precipitous crags on which the station is perched, had been converted by them into gardens.

[Sidenote: Simla.]

On the 4th of April,—Easter Eve—he reached Simla, which was to be his home for the next five months. His impressions of this 'paradise of Anglo- Indians' were given shortly afterwards in the following words:—

The houses which form the settlement are situated on three or four heights, which are the crest of a mountain that lies among other mountains of about the same elevation, scattered around it in groups and rows, intersected by valleys, and closed in on the north by a range covered with everlasting snow, and glittering from morning to evening in the rays of a tropical sun. The hills on which Simla stands are well clothed by trees, not of great stature generally, though of much beauty; ilexes of a peculiar kind, deodars, and rhododendrons being conspicuous among them; but there is little wood on the surrounding mountains. No doubt the special charms of Simla are enhanced by this contrast: and perhaps also by the character of the scenery which the traveller meets on the whole route from Calcutta.

Nothing can he well imagined more uninteresting. On leaving Lower Bengal, even the luxuriant tropical vegetation which distinguishes that part of India disappears,—and the rest of the journey is performed through a country perfectly flat, and apparently barren; for notwithstanding occasional groups of trees, and good crops here and there, the wide-spreading dusty plains give but faint indications of the fertility which cultivation and irrigation can no doubt evolve from them. Even when the mountains are approached, and the ascent commences, the same character of barrenness attaches to the scene, for their sides are almost bare of trees, and there is little to relieve them, except the patches of vegetation which lie snugly in the valleys, or creep in terraces up the slopes.

No doubt the greater luxuriance in foliage and vegetation which adorns Simla is in some measure due to the presence of the European visitors who prevent the trees from being cut, and protect in other ways the amenity of the place.

But the climate and soil have also, it may be presumed, a good deal to do with it. For the trees at Simla are not only more abundant, but also different from those which are met with on the mountains nearer to the plains. This probably accounts for what otherwise seems strange,—namely, that Europeans, wishing to escape from the heat of the lowlands, should have fixed on a spot among the Hills so distant from the plains. It is not as inaccessible now as it was in former days, because a road has been made which is practicable for carts. But by this road the distance from the foot of the Hills to Simla is fifty-six miles, and the journey for most people occupies three or four days; whereas we ascended from the foot of the Hills to Kussowlie, which is at an elevation nearly as great as that of Simla, in a little more than two hours. It used to be supposed that mountains overhanging the lowlands were less healthy than those farther removed from them, but whether this be the case or not may be doubtful. However, whatever may have been the reasons for the original selection of Simla, it certainly has now greater attractions as a residence than any spot lying between it and the plains.

In this pleasant retreat, with its 'dry climate, and temperature from 60° to 70° in the shade,' he resumed with fresh vigour his ordinary official work; corresponding constantly with the Secretary of State, with the subordinate Governments, and with the members of his Council, gathering ever fresh stores of information, and forming ever clearer views of the problems that lay before him; looking forward to the great meeting to be held next spring at Lahore, not only as an important experiment, but also as in a manner the real commencement of his reign. Some extracts from his letters of this period are subjoined.

To Sir Charles Trevelyan.

Camp, Jeyt: February 23, 1863.

[Sidenote: Supply of labour.]

No doubt there is a deficiency of labour in some parts of India, and an excess in others. Moreover, there are moral and physical obstacles which put difficulties in the way of the transfer of labour from places where it is redundant to those where it is wanting. But to affirm generally of a country where labour-saving machines are, in consequence of the cheapness of labour, as little used as in India, that there is a 'want of labour' seems to me to be a paradox.

I will give an example:—If, in America, the climate made it necessary that every private white soldier should have a punkah pulled over him day and night, do you think that no agency but that of the human hand, in its rudest and most direct application, would be employed in this task? And why is it otherwise in India? Because labour is so cheap that necessity, the mother of invention, does not stimulate the ingenuity of man here as it does there.

Far from deprecating the introduction of capital, I should be delighted to hear that the amount to be spent in India this year was to be three times what it promises to be. I do not say to be spent by Government, for to this there are objections, altogether irrespective of the question of the amount of labour available.

The first effect of this enlarged expenditure would no doubt be to raise the wages of labour. This would be in itself a blessing, for which I should thank God.

But its second and more permanent effect would be to increase the number of the class of skilled labourers, which the patient, sober, and ingenious population of India is fitted to supply in so great abundance, if due encouragement be given; and further, to drive capitalists to the substitution of machinery for brute human labour to a greater extent than is the practice now.

The ultimate result would, therefore, be to render the existing stock of labour doubly productive; the fruits of this increased productiveness being divided in proportions more or less equitable between the labourers and capitalists.

I believe that the Railway expenditure is already exercising a sensible influence of this salutary character. Bodies of navvies are becoming attached to the companies, who follow them from place to place, and render them comparatively independent of the local supply of labour; and above all, by calling forth native talent in the form of skilled labour, they are imparting that kind of education which will, I believe, do more for the elevation of the masses than any other which we can provide in India.

* * * * *

To H. S. Maine, Esq.

Camp, Hodul: February 25, 1863.

[Sidenote: Special legislation.]

While I entirely concur in the opinion that the onus probandi rests, and rests heavily too, on the proposers of exceptional or particular legislation, an assumption runs through ———'s letter to you which I am by no means prepared to admit. He assumes that in such matters as those with which we are now dealing, this particular legislation must be in the exclusive interest of the landlord, and calculated to increase in his hand powers which may be abused, and the abuse of which is restrained by moral influences which operate less strongly where landlords and tenants are of different races than where they are homogeneous. He cites, strangely enough, Ireland, where these moral influences, which are of themselves generally sufficient in England and Scotland, are supplemented by wholesale evictions on one side and murders on the other. But the law of landlord and tenant is, I believe, the same in Ireland as in England, and it is quite possible that a little particular legislation, which would have given either of the parties the protection of positive law against injuries which can now be redressed only by a rude process of reprisals (one outrage balancing another until the account is squared), might have proved ultimately a benefit even to the party against which this particular legislation seemed to be, in the first instance, directed.

The planters say, we have a grievance attributable to special circumstances arising out of our relations with our ryots; unless you give us a special remedy to meet our special grievance, we fall back on our general powers as landlords. Are we quite sure that in refusing the special remedy, we are consulting the interest of the weaker party, viz. the ryot?

Of course, this is all general. There will remain the questions: Is there a grievance at all? Is it one which has any claim to a special remedy? I quite agree that the onus of answering these questions satisfactorily rests on the advocate of special legislation.

* * * * *

To Sir Charles Wood.

Roorkee: March 19, 1863.

[Sidenote: Duty of officials in missionary matters.]

The religious question is, no doubt, a very difficult one; and I am glad that you approved of the course which I took with reference to the great missionary gathering at Lahore. I spoke to Sir R. M—— on the subject when I met him at Delhi. He seemed to think that it had done more harm than good to the missionary cause, as the presence of high officials was sure to raise suspicions in the minds of the natives. I told him that as regarded the acts of officials in such matters, my opinion was this:—If an official says to me, 'I think that I may, with perfect propriety, in my character of official, do so and so, or take such or such a part in furtherance of an object which I believe to be right,' I am quite ready to meet him on this ground, and to join issue with him if I differ from him on the particular point raised. But if he says to me, 'I know that it would be wrong in me to do this as an official, but I do it in my private character,' I can have no discussion with him; because I deny that it is possible to establish any such distinction in the East, and I am inclined to distrust either the honesty or the intelligence of the man who proposes to act upon it.

* * * * *

To Sir Charles Wood.

Simla: March 19, 1863.

[Sidenote: Financial credit.]

I am as desirous as you can be, perhaps even more desirous, to give no excuse for the charge of cooking accounts, or making things look pleasanter than they ought, because I am quite confident, that if we can keep the peace and show an unimpeachable balance-sheet, we shall soon have more capital sent to India than we know what to do with. I could not help giving, a few days ago, a hint concerning my Canadian experience on this point. When I was appointed to Canada, the first Canadian official to whom I was introduced was the Finance Minister, who was walking about the streets of London with £60,000 of Canadian 6 per cent. debentures in his pocket, which nobody would take. In 1849, two years later, the Montreal merchants drew up an elaborate address recommending annexation to the United States, alleging as one of their principal reasons that so long as they remained colonists, they could obtain no credit in England for public objects, and citing, in proof of this allegation, the fact that in the United States several thousand miles of railway had been constructed, in Canada only thirty miles. Within three years from the date of this address, we had 2,000 miles of railway in Canada in course of construction, and our Government debentures (6 per cent.) were selling in London at 119, higher than those of the United States Government; in fact, we had more credit than we could always employ properly. Now, how was this change effected? Simply by showing a good balance-sheet, an improving country, and a contented people, and leaving capitalists to draw their own inferences from these phenomena. I do not despair of seeing a similar state of things in India; and it was with the view of giving an impulse in this direction that I stated publicly, at Benares the other day, that we must look for the further development of our railway system to bonâ fide private enterprise, aided, perhaps, where circumstances required it, by Government, but not to the extension of Government guarantees. Unguaranteed companies cannot get money while guaranteed companies are competing with them as borrowers. Therefore, if we intend to encourage the former, we must let capitalists know that a limit will be put on the operations of the latter.

[Sidenote: Seat of Government.]

As to the seat of Government question, I am strongly of opinion that the proper thing to do at present is to give practical effect to the provision in the Indian Councils Act, which authorises the Governor- General to call his Council together in other parts of India besides Calcutta. This would give to the Supreme Government a more catholic character than it now possesses, and perhaps in some degree diminish the jealousy of Calcutta influence which obtains so extensively.

I do not see my way towards recommending the entire abandonment of Calcutta. It is an important place, and has certain traditional claims which it is not quite easy to set aside. Moreover, although the Calcutta community may have its faults and wayward tendencies, it is an influential element in our body corporate and politic, and a Government which knows its duty may effect a great deal of good, and derive no little benefit, by coming into contact with it For the present, therefore, I think that Calcutta should continue to be the headquarters of Government; but that we should meet from time to time at other places for Legislative purposes, so as to qualify Calcutta local associations with other local associations. This plan will be attended of course with some trouble and expense. I intend to make some inquiries to ascertain what the latter is likely to be. I do not see why we should not legislate in camp, if there be difficulty in providing house accommodation…. I should like, if possible, to hit upon a plan which would give us a sufficient range in choosing and varying our places of meeting. More on all this hereafter.

* * * * *

To Sir Charles Wood.

Roorkee: March 19, 1863.

[Sidenote: Value of training at headquarters.]

I confess I think it very important that the heads of the local Governments should have had some training at headquarters. It is much easier for an intelligent officer who has been so trained, to supply a lack of local knowledge, than for one who has been constantly employed in a particular province to grasp in a sufficiently comprehensive spirit the general interests of the Empire, and duly to appreciate the relative claims of its component parts. Already, among the high officers in the Provinces, there is a considerable disinclination to face the climate and labour of Calcutta. Situations in the Provinces, where the work is lighter, where the summers can be spent on the Hills, and where the holders are in a much greater degree monarchs of all they survey, are naturally preferred to the sweltering metropolis. This preference would be strengthened if it were supposed that this provincial career was the road to the Lieutenant-Governorship. Moreover, it is to be remembered that the patronage exercised by these Lieutenant-Governors is very great indeed. It is important that it should not fall too absolutely into the hands of the same local cliques. So much on the abstract question of general versus local experience.

* * * * *

To Sir Charles Wood.

Simla: May 6, 1863.

In a general way, I must say that I am inclined to give a preference, in disposing of these high offices, to persons who have served in the offices of the Supreme Government or in the Governor-General's Legislative Council. I would not, of course, exclude men of proved and eminent qualities because they had been employed only in the Provinces or minor Presidencies; but my impression is that the work is lighter, and that reputations are more easily won, in the service of the minor than in that of the Supreme Government. Moreover, I think it desirable that the best men should be attracted to the latter service; and I observe a growing disinclination to abandon good opportunities under local governments for those which the Supreme Government has to offer. A local Government, with plenty of hill stations, &c., has many attractions for persons who can contrive to be on good terms with the Lieutenant-Governor. I think that something is due to those who face the climate and the competition of Calcutta; not to mention the fact, that they have opportunities of becoming conversant with the general business of the country, beyond those which are enjoyed by persons whose service has been confined to any one locality.

I think that the Legislative branch of the Governor-General's Council should be a channel through which officers of the other Presidencies may be introduced into the Secretariat and Council at Calcutta.

* * * * *

To Sir Charles Wood.

Simla: May 21, 1863.

[Sidenote: Aristocracies.]

I have no objection primâ facie to an aristocracy, and I am quite ready to admit that conflicting claims of proprietorship in the same lands are an evil; but I also know that, even in our old Christian Europe, there are not many aristocracies that have had salt enough in them to prevent them from rotting. And when I consider what Oriental society is; when I reflect on the frightful corruption, both of mind and body, to which the inheritors of wealth and station are exposed—the general absence of motives to call forth good instincts, or of restraints to keep bad in check—I own that I do not feel quite sure that, even if we could sweep away all rights of sub-proprietors or tenants, and substitute for the complications incident to the present system an uniform land-tenure of great proprietors and tenants at will, we should be much nearer the millennium than we are now….

[Sidenote: Against intermeddling in foreign politics.]

I am wholly opposed to that prurient intermeddling policy which finds so much favour with certain classes of Indian officials. It is constantly thrusting us into equivocal situations, in which our acts and our professions of respect for the independence of other nations are in contradiction, and in which our proceedings become tainted with the double reproach of inconsistency and selfishness. Nothing, in my opinion, can be more fatal to our prestige and legitimate influence. My modest ambition for England is, that she should in this Eastern world establish the reputation of being all-just and all-powerful; but, to achieve this object, we must cease to attempt to play a great part in small intrigues, or to dictate in cases where we have not positive interests which we can avow, or convictions sufficiently distinct to enable us to speak plainly. We must interfere only where we can put forward an unimpeachable plea of right or duty; and when we announce a resolution, our neighbours must understand that it is the decree of fate.

* * * * *

To Sir Charles Trevelyan.

Simla: June 17, 1863.

[Sidenote: Council to meet at Lahore.]

On the first occasion of transferring the Council from Calcutta to another place, we ought to select some considerable town—the capital of a Province or local Government, if possible. What we wish to do is to give effect to the scheme embodied in the ninth clause of the Councils Act, and we should do so in such a manner as to carry public opinion with us. If the plan answers, we may exercise a greater liberty of choice on future occasions.

I adhere to the opinion which I first expressed, that, on the whole, Lahore is the place which unites the greatest number of advantages. It is the capital of a province which is loyal, which is under the Government of India, and which, moreover, has a good many special characteristics of its own, with which it may be well that the Supreme Legislature should acquaint themselves on the spot. Against these recommendations is to be set the greater distance from Calcutta, which does not affect communication by telegraph, and, for more bulky communications, as compared with Delhi, is only a question of a few hours.

I have no wish to legislate at a purely military station; my object is to select a place of meeting where we may obtain some knowledge of local and native feeling, which does not reach Calcutta.

* * * * *

To Sir Charles Wood.

Simla: August 30, 1863.

After reaching this place, I soon came to the conclusion that the reasons for meeting at Lahore were much more forcible than those which could be advanced in favour of any other place; and circumstances which have occurred since then have tended strongly to confirm me in this opinion. Independently of the prestige which attaches to the province of which it is the capital, and to the Sikh population which inhabit it, the state of affairs in Afghanistan, and on our frontier, would render a demonstration which would at once afford evidence of our military strength and gratify the pride and self-importance of the Sikh chiefs, at this moment especially opportune.

I have arranged with the Commander-in-chief to hold his camp of exercise there; the Lieutenant-Governor is to have a great Agricultural Exhibition, which I am to open; and if we mean to establish ourselves for a couple of months there in our legislative capacity while all this is going on, I think that it will have an excellent effect both on our own people and on our neighbours.

[Sidenote: Sitana fanatics.]

Late in the month of September, during the last days of Lord Elgin's stay at Simla, occurred the only break in the otherwise peaceful tenor of his government, in the shape of an outburst of certain Wahabee fanatics inhabiting a frontier district in the Upper Valley of the Indus. The outburst is not without historical interest, as connected with similar disturbances which have assumed more serious proportions; but it is noticed here chiefly as illustrating the view which Lord Elgin took of the policy and duty of the British Government in such cases.

It was not without the greatest reluctance that he was induced to take up the quarrel at all: for he had the strongest aversion for warlike operations in the existing state of India, and particularly on the frontiers of Afghanistan; and he had no small distrust of those military tendencies and that thirst for opportunities of distinction which are apt to characterise the ablest Governors of frontier provinces. But he had prevented a Sitana expedition in the previous year; he was assured that the recent inroads of the fanatics were the direct consequence of his last year's supineness; and he was told that if he again held back, the disturbances would be renewed another year with usury. Moreover, he was assured that the projected expedition would secure the peace of the frontier for a long period; and that the operation would be little more than a military promenade, and would be over before his camp reached Peshawur.

It was scarcely possible for a civil Governor to resist such a pressure of professional opinion; and he consented to take measures of repression.

Writing to Sir Charles Wood on the subject, he said:—

The overt acts charged consist in the return of the fanatics to Sitana, whence they were driven out by us some years ago; and the frontier tribes in question are held to be guilty because they have allowed them to return to this place, although bound by treaty with us to refuse to admit them…. On a review of all the circumstances, and looking to the well-known character and designs of the Sitana fanatics, I came to the conclusion that the interests both of prudence and humanity would be best consulted by levelling a speedy and decisive blow at this embryo conspiracy.

Accordingly it was arranged that the Punjâb Government should at once take the necessary measures for expelling the fanatics from Judoon, where they had congregated, and then, if circumstances permitted, proceed to destroy their place of refuge at Mulka.

But it is well known that in India, to use Lord Elgin's own expression, 'rising officials are instinctively in favour of a good row.' Some of those around him were urgent that the expedition should be deferred until the spring, and should then be organised on a larger scale, and with more comprehensive objects. Lord Elgin set his face decidedly against this.

I wish (he wrote) by a sudden and vigorous blow to check this trouble on our frontier while it is in a nascent condition. The other plan would give it several months to fester and to extend itself; and, if there be among the Mohammedan populations in these regions the disposition to combine against us which is alleged, and which is indeed the justification of the measure proposed, how far might not the roots of the conspiracy stretch themselves in that time? The Afghans in their distracted state might furnish sympathisers; we should be invited to interfere in their internal affairs, in order to oppose those among them who were abetting our Mohammedan adversaries; in short, there is no end to the complications in which this postponement of active operations might involve us. Everything is more or less uncertain in such affairs; but in the absence of any very palpable blunder, what we actually propose to do would appear to be a pretty safe proceeding. The main purpose is to expel the fanatics from Judoon; and it is hardly possible that we should fail in this, as they are within easy reach of us there. The further objects—of punishing other tribes, and destroying the refuge of the fanatics at Mulka—may be abandoned if it be deemed advisable, without any loss of prestige, though of course with some abatement of the completeness of the movement. I therefore thought it necessary to adhere to my original resolution.

[Sidenote: The Himalayas.]

On the 26th of September Lord Elgin left Simla en route for Sealkote, where he was to rejoin his camp and proceed with it to Peshawur, the most distant station on the North-West frontier, before making his way to the great rendezvous at Lahore. On the way to Sealkote he was to traverse the upper valleys of the Beas, the Ravee, and the Chenab, and the mountains that divide them; his main object being to inspect the great tea plantations, public and private, recently set on foot in those parts, and to ascertain for himself what facilities or possibilities the country afforded for commercial intercourse with Ladâk and China.

For the first week his route lay nearly northwards, through scenes very similar to those which he had left at Simla. 'We are going through a beautiful country,' he wrote on the 4th of October, 'and the people seem cheerful and well-to-do.' Shortly afterwards, having passed over the Sutlej at Komharsen, he crossed a considerable range of mountains by the Jalouri Pass, and found himself in the fertile basin of the Beas. Directing his course still northwards, he followed this river up to its source among the hills; and thence crossed by the steep and high Rotung Pass from the valley of the Beas into that of the Chenab—from the rich and smiling country of Kuloo into a rugged and inhospitable tract called Lahoul. He did not, however, remain long in these desolate regions; but, after crossing the Twig Bridge across the Chandra, an affluent of the Chenab, and inspecting a wooden bridge which had just been constructed to take its place, he retraced his steps southwards to Sultanpore, on the Beas river. From thence, on the 18th of October, he wrote as follows to Sir Charles Wood:—

[Sidenote: Kuloo.]
[Sidenote: Rotung Pass.]
[Sidenote: Twig Bridge.]

Thus far our expedition through the mountains has been very pleasant and interesting. The scenery has been magnificent and the climate enjoyable, though the changes of temperature have been considerable. We are now at Sultanpore, in Kuloo, at an elevation of about 4,000 feet above the sea. But a few days ago we (the men of the party) scaled the Rotung Pass, which divides Kuloo from Lahoul, and attained in so doing a height of 13,000 feet, with a temperature low in proportion. This pass is on the road from these provinces to Ladâk and China, and I visited, on the other side of it, a new bridge over the Chandra, which will be a great convenience to traders. Hitherto, if the traders used mules or other animals of this magnitude, they could cross the river with them only by making them swim; or, if sheep were their beasts of burden, by driving them over a twig bridge, through the meshes of which many fell into the river. I crossed the twig bridge myself; and I found it about the most difficult job I ever attempted. The new bridge will be completed in a few weeks. This road, however, useful though it will doubtless be when improved, leads through Ladâk, and the merchandise transported along it becomes subject to the exactions of the ruler of Cashmere. The desideratum would be a road which would be clear of his territory altogether.

The people in these regions seem good-humoured and merry-hearted, producing for themselves all that they want; growing their own food, making their own clothes; not much given to exchanges, and extremely averse to labour. I asked a manager of a tea plantation the other day how he was off for labour. He said that he contrived to induce labourers to come to his plantation for a few days at a time, chiefly for the purpose of earning money enough to pay the Government assessment of their land; but his opinion was that, if there were no assessment, no labour would be procurable. We have not yet come across much tea. The plantations we have seen are on a very small scale, and in a nascent condition; but they are promising. There seems no reason to doubt that the climate and a certain portion at least of the soil in this district are suited to the growth of tea. The climate, too, does very well for the European constitution, though it is hardly as healthy as I expected to find it. Both natives and Europeans are subject to fever at certain seasons, especially in the valleys; but I have no doubt that the latter may do well as employers of labour. This place (Sultanpore) is only about 4,000 feet above the level of the sea, and I have little doubt that, were the state of cultivation and trade to justify the outlay, a cart road might be made to it without great difficulty from the plain. This would greatly develop both its natural resources and its capabilities as a commercial route.

The state of the forests which we have encountered during our route has also engaged my attention. It is sad to see how they have been neglected, and how much waste of valuable timber has ensued. The natives have a practice of girdling fine trees, at a few feet from the root, in order to strip off as much of the bark as they can conveniently reach. It is rather a difficult practice to check; but, if we can manage to draw a line between the woods in which the villagers have rights and the public forests, we may impose heavy penalties on the perpetrators of such offences…. The deodar forests cease at the Rotung Pass. There are no forests of any value in Lahoul and Spitti—scarcely indeed any wood at all.

We are now proceeding towards the Kangra Valley, where we expect to find tea plantations in a more advanced condition.

[Sidenote: Illness.]

In this letter, and others of the same date, there is no hint of suffering or of ill-health; but when they were written he had already received the stroke which was to lay him in the grave. Before the departure of the next mail symptoms had appeared of serious disease of the heart, probably long lurking in his constitution, and now brought out into fatal activity by fatigue and the keen mountain air; and on the 4th of November, having with difficulty reached Dhurmsala, a station in the Kangra Valley,[3] he wrote to Sir Charles Wood in an altered tone, yet still hopeful and cheerful; and intent to the last in India, as at the first in Jamaica, and afterwards in Canada and China, on mitigating so far as lay in his power the evils which man brings on man.

[Sidenote: Last letter.]

You will not expect (he wrote, in this his last letter) to hear much from me by this mail when you hear how I am situated. The Hill expedition, of which I gave you some of the details in my last, had an unexpected effect upon me; knocking me down prostrate to begin with, with some symptoms of an anxious character behind, which require looking into. The nature and extent of the mischief are not sufficiently ascertained yet to enable me to say positively whether my power of doing my duty is likely to be in any degree impaired by what has happened. But Lady Elgin has brought up from Calcutta the medical man who attended me there, and he arrived this morning; so that a consultation will take place without delay. Meanwhile I have got over the immediate effects sufficiently to enable me to do such business as comes before me now. No change has taken place in our plans. We move rather more slowly, and I have given up the idea of going to Peshawur; but this is rather occasioned by the desire to confer with the Punjâb Government, while these affairs on the frontier are in progress, than by my mishap.

I think that the expedition (against the Sitana fanatics) will be a success; and I labour incessantly to urge the necessity of confining its objects to the first intentions. Plausible reasons for enlarging the scope of such adventures are never wanting; but I shall endeavour to keep this within its limits.

Lady Elgin is bearing up courageously, under a great pressure of labour and anxiety.

The sad story of what follows cannot be told in other words than those in which it has already been given to the world, with all the skill of an artist combined with the tenderness of a brother, and with that fulness of authentic detail which only one source could supply.[4]

'Although he had suffered often from the unhealthy and depressing climate of Calcutta during the summer and autumn of 1862, and thus, to the eyes that saw him again in 1863, he looked many years older than when he left England, yet it was not till he entered the Hills that any symptom manifested itself of the fatal malady that was lurking under his apparently stout frame and strong constitution. The splendid scenery of those vast forests and snow-clad mountains inspired him with the liveliest pleasure; but the highly rarefied atmosphere, which to most residents in India is as life from the dead, seemed in him to have the exactly reverse effect.

'It was on the 12th of October that he ascended the Rotung Pass, and on the 13th he crossed the famous Twig Bridge over the river Chandra. It is remarkable for the rude texture of birch branches of which it is composed, and which, at this late season, was so rent and shattered by the wear and tear of the past year as to render the passage of it a matter of great exertion. Lord Elgin was completely prostrated by the effort, and it may be said that from the exhaustion consequent on this adventure he never rallied. But he returned to his camp, and continued his march on horseback, until, on the 22nd, an alarming attack obliged him to be carried, by slow stages, to Dhurmsala. There he was joined, on the 4th of November, by his friend and medical adviser, Dr. Macrae, who had been summoned from Calcutta, on the first alarming indications of his illness. By this time the disorder had declared itself in such a form as to cause the most serious apprehensions to others, as well as to himself the most distressing sufferings. There had been a momentary rally, during which the fact of his illness had been communicated to England. But this passed away; and on the 6th of November Dr. Macrae came to the conclusion that the illness was mortal. This intelligence, which he communicated at once to Lord Elgin, was received with a calmness and fortitude which never deserted him through all the scenes which followed. It was impossible not to be struck by the courage and presence of mind with which, in the presence of a death unusually terrible, and accompanied by circumstances unusually trying, he showed, in equal degrees and with the most unvarying constancy, two of the grandest elements of human character—unselfish resignation of himself to the will of God, and thoughtful consideration, down to the smallest particulars, for the interests and feelings of others, both public and private.

'When once he had satisfied himself, by minute inquiries from Dr. Macrae, of the true state of the case, after one deep, earnest, heartfelt regret that he should thus suddenly be parted from those nearest and dearest, to whom his life was of such inestimable importance, and that he should be removed just as he had prepared himself to benefit the people committed to his charge, he steadily set his face heavenward. He was startled, he was awed; he felt it "hard, hard, to believe that his life was condemned;" but there was no looking backward. Of the officers of his staff he took an affectionate leave on that day. "It is well," he said to one of them, "that I should die in harness." And thenceforth he saw no one habitually, except Dr. Macrae, who combined with his medical skill the tenderness and devotion at once of a friend and of a pastor; his attached secretary, Mr. Thurlow, who had rendered him the most faithful services, not only through the period of his Indian Vice-royalty, but during his last mission to China; and Her who had shared his every thought, and whose courageous spirit now rose above the weakness of the fragile frame, equal to the greatness of the calamity, and worthy of him to whom, by night and day, she constantly ministered.

'On the following day, the clergyman whom he had ordered to be summoned, and for whose arrival he waited with much anxiety, reached Dhurmsala, and administered the Holy Communion to himself and those with him. "We are now entering on a New Communion," he had said that morning, "the Living and the Dead," and his spirit then appeared to master pain and weakness, and to sustain him in a holy calm during the ceremony, and for a few hours afterwards. "It is a comfort," he whispered, "to have laid aside all the cares of this world, and put myself in the hands of God;" and he was able to listen at intervals to favourite passages from the New Testament. That evening closed in with an aggravation of suffering. It was the evening of the seventeenth anniversary of his wedding-day.

'On the following morning, Lady Elgin, with his approval, rode up to the cemetery at Dhurmsala to select a spot for his grave; and he gently expressed pleasure when told of the quiet and beautiful aspect of the spot chosen, with the glorious view of the snowy range towering above, and the wide prospect of hill and plain below.

'The days and nights of the fortnight which followed were a painful alternation of severe suffering and rare intervals of comparative tranquillity. They were soothed by the never-failing devotion of those that were always at hand to read to him or to receive his remarks. He often asked to hear chosen chapters from the Book of Isaiah (as the 40th and 55th), sometimes murmuring over to himself any striking verses that they contained, and at other times repeating by heart favourite Psalms. At times he delighted to hear his little girl, who had been the constant companion of his travels, repeat some of Keble's hymns, especially those on the festivals of St. John the Evangelist and of the Holy Innocents.

'Until his strength failed him, he was carried at times into the verandah, and showed by words and looks his constant admiration at the grand evidences of God's power and goodness in the magnificence of the scenery before him; and on one such occasion was delighted with the sublime description of the wonders of nature in the 38th and 39th chapters of the Book of Job.

'At times he was able to enter into conversation and argument on serious subjects. When, under the pressure of his sufferings, he was one night entreating to be released—"O that God would in mercy come and take me"— Dr. Macrae reminded him of the dread of pain and death which seems to be expressed in the account of the Agony of Gethsemane, and he appeared to find much comfort in the thought, repeating once or twice that he had not seen it in this light before, and several times saying with fervour, "Not my will, but Thine be done." At other times, he could even be led, by way of steadying his wandering thoughts amidst the distraction of restlessness, to fix them on his school and college days, to tell anecdotes of his hard reading, or to describe the visit to Oxford of his venerable friend Dr. Chalmers. He dwelt in this way on a sermon of Dr. Chalmers at Glasgow, which he remembered even in detail, and from which he quoted some eloquent passages, bringing out the general scope of the sermon, to the effect that, rather than teach people to hate this bad world, we should teach them to love and look up to a better one.[5]

'It will naturally be understood that long converse was nearly impossible. As occasions rose, a few words were breathed, an appropriate verse quoted, and a few minutes were all that could be given at any one time to discourse upon it. It is characteristic of his strong, cheerful faith, even during those last trying moments, that he on one occasion asked to have the more supplicatory, penitential Psalms exchanged for those of praise and thanksgiving, in which he joined, knowing them already by heart; and in the same strain of calm yet triumphant hope, he whispered to himself on the night when his alarming state was first made known to him, "Hallelujah; the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth. We shall all meet again."

'That thought was raised to its highest pitch by the sight of a portrait of a beloved son, who had died in England during his absence. It arrived in the close of those sad days. He recognised it with a burst of tenderness and delight which at once lifted his mind above the suffering of his mortal illness. Again and again he desired to see it, and to speak of it, with the fixed conviction that he and his "angel boy," as he called him, would soon meet in a better world. "Oh, when shall I be with you?" "You know where he is; we shall all go to him; he is happy."

'Every care had been taken for the public interests, and for the interests of those still nearer and dearer to him. He had laid the most solemn charge on his faithful secretary to conduct Lady Elgin home on her mournful and solitary voyage. He had given to Dr. Macrae, with the tenderest marks of affection, a turquoise ring: "We have had a long struggle together; keep this in memory of it." He had dictated a telegram to the Queen resigning his office, with a request that his successor might be immediately appointed.

'With this exception, public affairs seem to have faded from his mind. "I must resign myself to doing no work. I have not sufficient control over my thoughts. I have washed my hands of it all." But it was remarkable that, as the end drew nearer, the keen sense of public duty once more flashed up within him. It was on the 19th that he could not help expressing his wonder what was meant by his long lingering; and once, half wandering, he whispered, "If I did not die, I might get to Lahore, and carry out the original programme." Later on in the day he sent for Mr. Thurlow, and desired that a message should be sent, through Sir Charles Wood, expressive of his love and devotion to the Queen, and of his determination to do his work to the last possible moment. His voice, faint and inaudible at first, gained strength with the earnestness of the words which came forth as if direct from his heart, and which, as soon as pronounced, left him prostrate with the exertion. He begged, at the same time, that his "best blessing" might be sent to the Secretaries of the Indian Government, and also a private message to Sir Charles Wood in England.

'These were his last public acts. A few words and looks of intense affection for his wife and child were all that escaped him afterwards. One more night of agonized restlessness, followed by an almost sudden close of the long struggle, and a few moments of perfect calm, and his spirit was released.

'His death was on the 20th of November, and on the 21st he was privately buried, at his own request, on the spot selected beforehand.'

* * * * *

He was cut off, as those felt most keenly who were most capable of judging, 'just at the moment when his best qualities were about to show themselves;' just when the information and experience which he had accumulated were beginning to ripen into confidence in his knowledge of the country; and to the historian his figure must remain as an unfinished torso in the gallery of our Indian rulers. But those who have read the foregoing pages, more especially the fragments which they contain of his own words and writings, will have derived from them some impression of the varied ability, the steady conscientious industry, the genial temper, the 'combination of fertility of resource with simplicity of aim,' of firmness with tact, of cautious sagacity with prompt resolution, which might have found even larger scope in the government of India than in the active and eventful life which has been described.

These attributes, however, do not make up the man, such as he lives in the memory of those who saw him most nearly. Beneath the manifold outward workings of his strong and capable nature there flowed a 'buried life' of depth more than proportionate.

After his death, one who had known him long and intimately, on being asked what he considered to be the most distinguishing characteristic of his deceased friend, answered at once, 'Disinterestedness: he seemed utterly incapable of regarding any subject except with a view to the interests of his country. And next to that,' he added, 'affectionateness; I never can forget the grief he showed at the death of his first wife; I thought he never would have held up his head again.' How this tenderness deepened and mellowed in the husband and father of later years, some slight indications may be found in the letters that precede.

Disinterested devotion to public duty; tender and affectionate sympathies; a passionate love of justice, showing itself especially in a religious regard for the rights of the weak; all resting on the foundation of a firm and loving trust in God; these, far more than his ability or his eloquence, are the qualities that made him what he was: the qualities, by the exercise and imitation of which, those who seek to do him honour may best perpetuate his memory.

There is one spot from which that memory is not likely soon to pass away: the spot towards which, in his most distant wanderings, his thoughts turned with even more than the ordinary longing of a Scotsman for the place of his birth, and always with the fond hope that he might be permitted—

life's long vexation past, There to return, and die at home at last.

'Wherever else he was honoured' (to borrow again from the author already quoted), 'and however few were his visits to his native land, yet Scotland at least always delighted to claim him as her own. Always his countrymen were proud to feel that he worthily bore the name most dear to Scottish hearts. Always his unvarying integrity shone to them with the steady light of an unchanging beacon above the stormy discords of the Scottish church and nation. Whenever he returned to his home in Fifeshire, he was welcomed by all, high and low, as their friend and chief. Here at any rate were fully known the industry with which he devoted himself to the small details of local, often trying and troublesome business; the affectionate confidence with which he took counsel of the fidelity and experience of the aged friends and servants of his house; the cheerful contentment with which he was willing to work for their interests and for those of his family, with the same fairness and patience as he would have given to the most exciting events or the most critical moments of his public career. There his children, young as they were, were made familiar with the union of wisdom and playfulness with which he guided them, and with the simple and self-denying habits of which he gave them so striking an example. By that ancestral home, in the vaults of the Abbey Church of Dunfermline, would have been his natural resting-place. Those vaults had but two years ago been opened to receive the remains of another of the same house, his brother, General Bruce, whose lamented death—also in the service of his Queen and country—followed immediately on his return from the journey in which he had accompanied the Prince of Wales to the East, and in which he had caught the fatal malady that brought him to his untimely end…. How little was it thought by those who stood round the vault at Dunfermline Abbey, on July 2, 1862, that to those familiar scenes, and to that hallowed spot, the chief of the race would never return. How mournfully did the tidings from India reach a third brother in the yet farther East, who felt that to him was due in great part whatever success he had experienced in life, even from the time when, during the elder brother's Eton holidays, he had enjoyed the benefit of his tuition, and who was indulging in dreams how, on their joint return from exile, with their varied experience of the East, they might have worked together for some great and useful end.[6]

'He sleeps far away from his native land, on the heights of Dhurmsala; a fitting grave, let us rejoice to think, for the Viceroy of India, overlooking from its lofty height the vast expanse of the hill and plain of these mighty provinces—a fitting burial beneath the snow-clad Himalaya range, for one who dwelt with such serene satisfaction on all that was grand and beautiful in man and nature—

Pondering God's mysteries untold,
And, tranquil as the glacier snows,
He by those Indian mountains old
Might well repose.

'A last home, may we not say, of which the very name, with its double signification, was worthy of the spirit which there passed away—"the Hall of Justice, the Place of Rest." Rest, indeed, to him after his long "laborious days," in that presence which to him was the only complete Rest —the presence of Eternal Justice.'

[1] One of the Indian journals of the day described the ceremony as follows:—'On Wednesday afternoon, the few Europeans in the station collected at five o'clock in the Memorial Garden and Monument. None, who had seen the spot after the subsidence of the Mutiny could recognise in the well-planned and well-kept garden, with its two graveyards, and the beautiful central Monument on its grassy mound, the site of the horrid slaughter-house which then stood in blood- stained ruin about the well, choked with the victims of the foulest treachery the world has ever seen…. The ceremonial was as simple as it well could be, and few ceremonies could be more impressive…. The Viceroy advanced to the top of the steps of the Memorial, and, through the Commissioners, formally requested the Bishop to consecrate that spot, and the adjacent burial-places. The Bishop, taking his place, then headed a procession of the clergy and the people present, and proceeded round the two burial-places and the interior of the Memorial itself, with music playing and soldiers chanting the 49th, 115th, 139th, and 23rd Psalms. After this, his chaplain read the form of consecration, which was signed by the Bishop; and, the 90th Psalm having been sung, he shortly addressed those present in most feeling, manly, and impressive terms befitting the occasion; and the ceremonial concluded with prayers read by the chaplain of the station, closing with the benediction by the Bishop.' The Bishop was the lamented George Cotton. See his Life, p. 286.

[2] The Company and the Crown. By the Hon. T. J. Hovell-
Thurlow.

[3] One of the side valleys which run up northwards from the main
valley of the Beas.

[4] For permission to use this narrative the Editor has to thank not only its author, Arthur Stanley, Dean of Westminster (and it is but a small part of the obligations to him connected with this work), but also the proprietors of the North British Review, in which it appeared.

[5] 'The Expulsive Power of a New Affection.'—Commercial Discourses, No. IX.

[6] That third brother, Sir Frederick Bruce, was laid in that same vault, when his remains were brought home from Boston, where he was suddenly cut off in 1867 at his post as Minister to the United States.