The brilliant lawyer, Mr. Gasper, died in December of this year on the way to England for a holiday; if I remember rightly he died of heart failure. Lord William at once wrote a kindly, sympathetic letter to his wife, which, considering he cannot have felt very warmly towards her husband after the bitter tone he took up against his jockey and horses, was good of him, and I hope the lady appreciated the spirit that prompted him to do this gentle act. Gentle courtly manners are the fruit of noble natures and loyal minds.
January 1st, 1891, saw Lord William gazetted a full-blown colonel and K.C.I.E.
CHAPTER XIII
THE FAMOUS FAREWELL DINNER
Why the Maharajah of Durbangah Gave up Racing—The Maharajah of Patiala Joins the Stable—The Indian Lotteries—Some Successful Racing—Lord Bill Pays Up—Simla Feeling Sad—Death of Myall King—Some of His Chief Races—Farewell Dinner—List of Guests—Speeches
Early in 1891 the Maharajah of Durbangah told his partner he meant to give up racing. Mr. Abbott, who was in the know of all things racing, attributes this decision to worry and anxiety caused by certain Government schemes afloat which he feared would entirely disturb the peace of his territory. Perhaps I cannot do better than quote Mr. Abbott’s own words referring to the reason for His Highness’s retirement.
“This popular prince was worried out of his life by the spectre which haunted his nightly dreams of the utterly uncalled for, ill-judged and stupid scheme of the Cadastral Survey, hatched by two Irish civilians, true to their breeding in that they were rabid haters of landlords. If ever the heart of that generous, loyal and rattling good all-round prince be post-mortemed, Cadastral Survey will be found indelibly printed thereon. How could a man go on racing when he knew that his whole principality, at that moment resting in perfect peace and contentment, was to have its Arcadian simplicity disturbed by numerically untold bands of harpies in Government uniform, sweeping through its length and breadth, looting alike Zemindar and Ryot, taking bribes with a magnificent impartiality from both—and to do what? Draw dauby maps, incomplete and incorrect to start with, absolutely useless in less than five years. A precious lot of use this thrice-cursed and most scandalous survey will prove. Small wonder Durbangah stopped racing, and that the once contented prince is in a state of unrest and discontent.” Mr. Abbott maintains, “This and this alone was the secret of Durbangah’s retiring from the turf.”
Whether this survey proved disastrous or a benefit I am not able to say, but I think we may take it that the description of Mr. Abbott’s which I have quoted faithfully represents the state of the Maharajah’s mind and feelings at the time. Great was the excitement in India when the news became public property, and many both wise and foolish were the speculations indulged in as to the reason. Lord William was naturally very sorry, having had nothing but the pleasantest relations with his partner from first to last. There had always been entire agreement between them. In addition to his regret at losing his racing partner Lord William was very grieved that “such a good fellow and such a loyal prince” should be unhappy and unsettled.
There happened to be another native nobleman at the time anxious and longing to make a name for himself on the turf, namely, the young and enormously rich young Maharajah of Patiala, straight from the leading strings of a strict Scotch tutor. Being at the Calcutta meeting for the first time in the early part of ’91, and knowing that the Beresford-Durbangah arrangement was at an end, he approached Lord William with a view to being taught the ropes and joining company. He was already a good horseman and loved the sport. His lordship agreed, and so for the future it was to be that very powerful stable the Patiala-Beresford, the strongest in India.