The following day a review of all the troops (18,000 men and 78 [guns]),[8] was held on a ground one mile in length by half a mile in breadth, perfectly level and well turfed. It would be considered a fine parade-ground for the plains of India, and must have entailed a considerable expenditure of time, labour, and money to make in such a hilly place as Khatmandu.
On reaching the ground, I was received by the Maharaja and Deb Shamsher Jung, the eldest of his many brothers, and the nominal Commander-in-Chief of the army; we rode along the line together, and the march past then began. Everything was done with the utmost precision; there was no fuss or talking, and from first to last not a single bugle sound was heard, showing how carefully officers and men had been drilled. I was told that the executive Commander-in-Chief, the third brother, by name Chandra Shamsher, had almost lived on the parade-ground for weeks before my arrival. The Maharaja's sons and brothers, who all knew their work, and were evidently fond of soldiering, commanded the several divisions and brigades.
The troops were not, perhaps, turned out quite so smartly as those in our service, and several of the officers were old and feeble; but these were the only faults perceptible, and I came to the conclusion that the great majority of the 18,000 men were quite as good as the Gurkhas we enlist; and I could not help thinking that they would be a valuable addition to our strength in the event of war.
General Chandra Shamsher is a very red-hot soldier. He said to my wife: 'Lady Roberts, when are the Russians coming? I wish they would make haste. We have 40,000 soldiers in Nepal ready for war, and there is no one to fight!'
The next day a grand durbar was held, at which the King (the Maharaja Dhiraj, as he is called) presided; he was an unusually handsome lad of about eighteen years of age, fairer than most Nepalese, and very refined looking. As on all previous occasions, everyone wore uniform except the King, who had on a perfectly plain dress of spotless white. Great deference is outwardly paid to the Dhiraj, but he has no power, and is never consulted in matters of State, being considered too sacred to be troubled with mundane affairs. Although a mere boy, he had four wives, two of them daughters of the Maharaja Bir Shamsher Jung.
After the durbar, I was shown over the principal school and hospital; both appeared to be well conducted, and evidently no expense was spared upon them. I was then taken to a magazine, in which were a number of guns of various calibre and any amount of ammunition. I was told there were several other magazines, which I had not time to see, and a few miles from Khatmandu extensive workshops, where all kinds of munitions of war were manufactured.
A Nepalese entertainment That evening, accompanied by Colonel and Mrs. Wylie, we attended a reception at the Maharaja's palace. The durbar hall, which was filled with men in uniform, was of beautiful proportions, and very handsomely decorated and furnished. After the usual introductions and some conversation with the chief officers, we were invited to visit the Maharani in her own apartments, and having ascended a flight of steps and passed through numerous corridors and luxuriously furnished rooms, we were shown into a spacious apartment, the prevailing colour of which was rose, lighted by lamps of the same colour. The Maharani was sitting on a sofa at the further end of the room, gorgeously apparelled in rose-coloured gauze dotted over with golden spangles; her skirts were very voluminous, and she wore magnificent jewels on her head and about her person. Two Maids of Honour stood behind her, holding fans, and dressed in the same colour as their mistress, but without jewels. On each side of her, forming a semicircle, were grouped the ladies of the Court, all arrayed in artistically contrasting colours; they were more or less pretty and refined looking, and the Maharani herself was extremely handsome. My wife was placed by her side on the sofa, and carried on a long conversation with her through one of the ladies who spoke Hindustani and acted as Interpreter. The Maharani presented Lady Roberts with a beautiful little Chinese pug-dog, and the Maharaja gave me a gold-mounted kookri (Gurkha knife). After this little ceremony there was a grand display of fireworks, and we took our leave.
Nothing could exceed the kindness we met with during our stay in Nepal. The Maharaja endeavoured in every way to make our visit enjoyable, and his brothers vied with each other in their efforts to do us honour. It was impressed upon me that the Nepalese army was at the disposal of the Queen-Empress, and hopes were repeatedly expressed that we would make use of it in the event of war.
Notwithstanding the occasional differences which have occurred between our Government and the Nepal Durbar, I believe that, ever since 1817, when the Nepal war was brought to a successful conclusion by Sir David Ochterlony, the Gurkhas have had a great respect and liking for us: but they are in perpetual dread of our taking their country, and they think the only way to prevent this is not to allow anyone to enter it except by invitation, and to insist upon the few thus favoured travelling by the difficult route that we traversed. Nepal can never be required by us for defensive purposes, and as we get our best class of Native soldiers thence, everything should, I think, be done to show our confidence in the Nepalese alliance, and convince them that we have no ulterior designs on the independence of their kingdom.
On leaving Nepal we made a short tour in the Punjab, and then went to Simla for the season.