India under Ripon: A Private Diary

by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

“This hotel stands on the ramparts, and is a really nice place, its proprietor a negro of Algerian extraction, but born in France and a Christian. He knows a few words of Arabic and no more, dresses in ultra English dress, has served as naval engineer on board Her Majesty’s fleet, and is more of a John Bull than anybody I know except Zohrab. His helmet is monumental.

“I may here note that I heard from Akbar Huseyn of a case in which liberties had been taken by an English official with a Hindu woman, whose husband’s relations, finding her ‘no longer of any use to them,’ killed her and laid her outside his tent. The case was taken up, and though there was no kind of doubt as to the facts, those who brought it forward were proceeded against by the Government as having brought a malicious charge, and were sentenced to a fine of one thousand rupees each, and three months imprisonment. My informant added: ‘They will never allow a charge to be substantiated against an official for fear of injuring the British character.’

“23rd Jan.—Ikhram Ullah brought us four Mohammedan gentlemen, with whom we conversed about the political position to be taken up by Mohammedans in India, and their opinion seemed to be that there should be more common action with the Hindus. But one of them was of opinion that the Hindus were impracticable, because they would not permit the killing of cows. He and Kadi Huseyn, a Shiah, talked English, but the Sunnis talked none.

“Later we went with Robinson, our black host, to see the fort and the great mosque, among the few wonders of the world. The mosque is far and away the finest mosque, the palace far and away the finest palace; and, except Madura, they stand together first in the universe. The palace is full of intense interest, for it was here that the great events of the last three hundred years happened, and in modern times that the last Emperor of Delhi, after the retaking of the city by the English, was tried ignominiously for murder. A dentist whom we met to-day tells us he happened to go into the hall of audience during the trial, and saw this last of the Mogul kings crouched before the Military Commission, dressed in a piece of sacking and a coarse turban ‘like a coolie.’ Here, too, the English soldiers slew and destroyed some thousands of innocent men in revenge for the death of about one hundred. The old Loharo chief assures us 26,000 persons were killed by the soldiers or hanged or shot or ‘blown up’ during the eight months following the capture of the city. The city was deserted, and whole quarters and suburbs razed to the ground. Such are the resources of civilization. The dentist says he saw nineteen men hanging together in one spot, and put the number executed at several thousands. I suppose no Englishman will ever dare write the real history of that year.

“We dined with the Nawab, his son, Prince Suliman Jah, and Ikhram Ullah, and had some instructive conversation. The son, Emir-ed-din Feruk Mirza, who is now reigning chief of Loharo, gave me an amusing account of how young princes were brought up by the British Government when it happened to become their guardian. They are taught to ride and play lawn tennis, and the Resident writes that they are enlightened and loyal princes. Then they are placed on the throne, but find it dull, and go to Calcutta where they spend their money. Then they come back and grind their subjects with taxation, and the Resident writes that they are barbarous and unfit to govern. Lastly, the Government intervenes and administers the country for them. He is a very intelligent young man himself, and his father complains of him because he is too old-fashioned. But I expect he knows better than the old man the ins and outs of our modern diplomacy. The old man is a curious type. During the Mutiny, he tells me, he remained in the city because he could not leave it. But he kept up communication with the English, and for this reason he was not hanged, as most people were, or his property entirely confiscated. It is quite evident to me, however, that, while expressing loudly his loyalty, all his sympathies are with the old régime. What he did not like about the mutineers was that most of them were Hindus. But Heaven forgive me if he loves the English. Things, too, have changed mostly since then, and it is my firm conviction that in the case of a new mutiny every man, woman, and child, Mohammedan and Hindu, will join it. The Nawab is a bit of a humbug, but I like him all the same. He belongs to a school which is rapidly passing away, the school which allied itself with the English Government from motives of interest, or sometimes out of a sincere admiration for some individual Englishman. All this is gone. The old men’s loyalty has become lip service, and the young men hardly conceal their thoughts. Nothing is more striking in India than the absolute want, at the present day, of native enthusiasm for any particular man. Lord Ripon had this till lately, but he is the last who will have had it.

“24th Jan.—We were to have gone on an expedition with Prince Suliman to the tombs of his ancestors, and the Kottub; but it has been put off, luckily as it turns out, for Colonel Moore came in to-day to see us from Meerut. I would not have missed him for much, as he is the only Englishman I have met who quite understands the natives, and sympathizes with our ideas. He is acting as bear-leader to the Duke of Connaught, where he lives in an uncongenial atmosphere, for he describes the Duke and Duchess as being of high Tory ideas about English rule in India, quite unsympathetic with the people. Even if they wished to see anything of them it would be impossible, for there is great jealousy on the part of the Indian Government.

“We talked over the whole situation in India, and agreed that it was impossible so absolutely unsympathetic a Government should not come into collision, some day, with the people. The Indians were the gentlest people in the world, and the easiest to govern, or we could not maintain our rule for an hour. As it was, they had only to combine against us passively to make the whole machine stop working. About Egypt, where he acted as Chief Interpreter, he gave us some valuable information. He knew the whole of the Palmer history, and had read the report whose existence the Government denied. In it Palmer stated that he had spent £25,000 on his first journey between Gaza and Suez on bribing the Bedouins. This money was secret service money, immense sums of which had been expended. He had seen and talked to Sultan Pasha, and described him as a ‘miserable fellow.’ On the day of the Khedive’s entry he had been in the streets and heard the mob cursing the Khedive and all his family, and cursing the English. He had refused to stay in Egypt, as, knowing Arabic, he did not like being perpetually insulted. On the other hand he was no Arabist. He had not seen Arabi, and did not believe in his patriotism.

“Colonel Moore took us round the city, along the ridge which the English held during the siege, and explained the strategical position clearly; and he showed the spot in the Chunda Chowk where the bodies of the King’s two sons were thrown by Hodson after he had shot them. He had taken them prisoners at Humayum’s tomb, and had promised them their lives, but explained that a crowd had gathered round on his way back to the city with them, and so he had taken a rifle from the troopers, and shot them both where they sat in their carriage. The King he had spared, and he had been sent to die a prisoner at Rangoon. It is a hideous story one side and the other; but what is certain is, that for every hundred English killed, the English exacted a thousand native lives, mostly of innocent men. So, too, the Bedouins seized by Warren in revenge of the Palmer murder were not those who did the deed. This admission from Moore, who, better than any man, knew the details of this business, is of importance. He said the official lies told about Egypt passed all bounds of belief.

“While we were sitting talking after our drive, a letter came, about which Primrose had telegraphed me some days ago. It was from Baring, delivering to me officially a message from Sherif Pasha to the effect that I should not be permitted to land in Egypt. Moore was much amused to learn how matters stood. I expect Baring is personally annoyed at all I told him having come true. On the other hand, Primrose telegraphs that Lord Ripon says I am at full liberty to accept Cordery’s invitation to the Residency at Hyderabad, a much more important matter to me just now than visiting Egypt. I look upon the university scheme as certain of success.