On August 6 the Secretary of State for India laid the Indian Budget before the House. This statement, coming as it does during the ‘Dog Days,’ at the end of the Session, is usually heard in its ponderous complexity with apathy by an empty and exhausted House. But the importance of public departments varies with the authority of the Minister who directs them. The Chamber was filled with members in all the interest and eagerness of a great Parliamentary occasion. Nor were they disappointed. Lord Randolph had no difficulty in holding their attention for upwards of an hour and three-quarters while he unfolded in stately language, but with the utmost simplicity and clearness, the wide scroll of Asia. Intricate and unfamiliar figures, facts and problems tangled with strange names and novel conditions, submitted themselves willingly to his interesting narration. The account was not cheering in its character. The confusion of Indian finances had permitted an astounding error in the Budget calculations of Lord Ripon’s Government and the new Minister had to announce to Parliament a heavy deficit, largely unforeseen. The Russian crisis, moreover, imposed upon India the necessity of extensive military preparations. Before he had spoken very long the House realised that Lord Randolph was developing an elaborate indictment of the late Viceroy.
‘The most unpardonable crime,’ he said, ‘of which the Governor-General of India can be guilty, is not to look ahead and make provision for the future. The Government of England cannot from its very nature look far ahead; its policy is always one of month to month, of week to week and sometimes of day to day; it is always more or less a policy of hand to mouth. The reason is, that our Government in England depends upon a Parliamentary majority which is violently assailed and swayed by an enlightened, but at the same time by a capricious public opinion. The Government of England has to think, in shaping its policy, of the state of Europe, of the Colonies and of Ireland; of the state of England; and last, not least, of the state of business in the House of Commons. It has to think of all those subjects, and the result is, that although we in England possess an unrivalled Constitution and unexampled freedom, yet for the purpose of that freedom we have to put up with the disadvantage of little stability and little continuity in our Government and hardly any forethought in our policy. The Government of India is exempt from all these disadvantages. It is a Government in its nature purely despotic, but it is not an hereditary despotism. We do our best to supply India from time to time with statesmen who shall exercise this tremendous power of government, but who shall at the same time be wise, experienced and courageous. In India it is not as in England. In India there is no public opinion to speak of, no powerful press, and hardly any trammels upon the Government of any sort or kind. For that reason I say that if the Governor-General of India does not look ahead and provide for the future, he not only commits a blunder but is guilty of a crime.
‘I am compelled to apply this general statement to the Government of Lord Ripon. Lord Ripon went out to India with a full knowledge of the state of affairs; he knew of all the events which had occurred—of the Russo-Turkish War which led to the Treaty of San Stefano and the Congress of Berlin; he knew of all the events which had caused the great preparations of Russia for advancing on India. He must have had knowledge of the gradual but sure extension of the Russian Empire in Asia.... I say nothing of the abandonment of Candahar. I say little of the destruction of the Quetta Railway. I come rather to the acts of Lord Ripon’s Government which seriously affected the finances of this year. Lord Ripon had prosperous times to deal with and an increasing revenue. The sky overhead, to the careless observer, seemed very blue. All dangers apparently had passed away so far as foreign affairs were concerned and so far as they had any bearing upon Indian finances, and Lord Ripon and his counsellors laid themselves down and slept. All indirect taxation of any value was remitted, the Customs duty was almost totally abolished and the salt duty was reduced. In 1882-3 the Indian army was reduced by five cavalry regiments and sixteen infantry regiments. The British army was allowed to fall to 10,000 men below its proper strength. To bring it up to its full strength, which it has now nearly attained, has cost the Indian Government 100,000l. No frontier railways were commenced; no roads were begun; no preparations were made for the defence of a long and difficult frontier. Surely in prosperous times a wise man would have provided for the event of a rainy day. But Lord Ripon slept, lulled by the languor of the land of the lotus. Yet there was much which ought to have warned and to have roused him. In 1882 the Russian Government, with the frankest candour, called our attention to their proceedings in Central Asia and invited us to delimit the frontier of Afghanistan; but the only reply they received was a dull and sullen reply, as of a man under the influence of a narcotic. Our ally, the Amir of Afghanistan, also sent many warnings. It is most curious to observe, in the account of the interview of the Amir with Lord Dufferin at Rawul Pindi, how frequently we come across that familiar saying "I told you so." All this time the cloud grew bigger, the distant darkness nearer and blacker and the great military Power loomed larger and more distinct upon our borders; yet Lord Ripon and his counsellors slumbered and slept, never dreaming that any foreign danger could by any possibility come nigh those dominions which had been entrusted to their watchful care, taking no thought for the morrow, heedless and ignorant of the future which was shaping itself with the utmost clearness under their very eyes. Then, sir, there came a sharp and sudden awakening. Russia’s hosts absorbed the territory of Merv, rapidly filled up the vacuum to the south which had been so blindly left unprovided for by us, and Lord Ripon and his counsellors were found, like the foolish virgins, with no oil in their lamps. Then followed the fruitless frontier negotiations and Lord Ripon came home and Lord Dufferin went out, not one hour too soon for the safety of India and the tranquillity of the East. Next we see the lonely and unsupported British Commissioner endeavouring to stay the advance of the Russian troops—troops flushed with success and animated by the highest hopes of glory and of booty. Then came the incident of Penjdeh and, following that, the vote of credit of eleven millions. Next we see the hasty and hurried recommencement of the Quetta Railway which had been so foolishly abandoned. Then came the announcement of the frontier railways and roads too fatally postponed. And then came the additional military expenditure, from three to four millions; and the result of it all is now before the House in the deficit in the Indian accounts of a million and a half and in the permanent extra military charge of no less than two millions a year.[40] The good time has gone; the advantages which we had, have been thrown away. No economy whatever was practised by that Government. The expenditure on civil buildings was allowed to be increased by over one million a year. The Famine Insurance Fund, on which we prided ourselves, has been proved in time of trial to be illusory. I declare that I endeavoured to contemplate the action of the late Government of India without party passion. I found in it not one redeeming feature. Indian interests were so clumsily, so stupidly, handled that progress has been thrown back almost for a generation; and having to place those results before the House of Commons in the practical and matter-of-fact form of figures and finance, I disown and repudiate on behalf of the present Government all responsibility of any sort or kind for that policy and I hold up that Viceroyalty and the Government responsible for it to the censure and the condemnation of the British and Indian peoples.
‘This Parliament,’ he concluded, after a survey of many matters interesting in themselves, but too specialised for quotation here, ‘has done little or nothing for India. It would appear as if members of Parliament of the present generation considered Indian affairs to be either beneath their attention or above their comprehension, and India is apparently left to pursue its destiny alone—some might even think uncared for—as far as Parliament is concerned. That was not always the case. In the last century, when our Indian Empire was forming, the greatest men—Mr. Pitt and Mr. Burke and Mr. Fox—did not disdain to apply their minds to the most careful examination and exposition of the difficult and complicated Indian questions, and with great advantage. At the present time, when everything around is changing fast and when nothing seems secure or firm or free from assault and danger, as far as India is concerned, we shall act wisely if we revert to the more patriotic practice of earlier days. I would ask those who have been so kind as to listen to me, and those who possibly may not have concurred in many remarks I have made, to join with me in what I would call an appeal, or even, almost, a command, to those who will be our successors, some faint echo of which may possibly linger around these walls and influence the new Parliament so shortly to meet here: I would ask those who hear me to join in an appeal to the members of the new Parliament to shake themselves free from the lassitude, the carelessness, the apathy, which have too long characterised the attitude of Parliament towards India. I would appeal to them to watch with the most sedulous attention, to develop with the most anxious care, to guard with the most united and undying resolution, the land and the people of Hindostan, that most truly bright and precious gem in the crown of the Queen, the possession of which, more than that of all your Colonial dominions, has raised in power, in resource, in wealth and in authority this small island home of ours far above the level of the majority of nations and of States—has placed it on an equality with, perhaps even in a position of superiority over, every other Empire either of ancient or of modern times.’
With this impressive harangue the ‘Ministry of Caretakers’ may be said to have brought the Session and the Parliament to a close.
Upon Lord Randolph’s acceptance of office begins a constant, intimate and candid correspondence with Lord Salisbury, which ranges over the whole field of politics at home and abroad, continues with almost equal fulness in Opposition and in Government and ends abruptly in January 1887. Their letters were never more frequent than when Lord Randolph was at the India Office. The fortunes of India were at this time inseparably interwoven with the conduct of the Foreign Office—at first in regard to Russia and Afghanistan, and later on in regard to France and China on account of Burma—and Lord Randolph was always most particular to consult the Prime Minister on any matter of importance and to take no serious step without his concurrence. Lord Salisbury, on the other hand, had much to give to an Indian Secretary. He possessed a vast knowledge of Indian affairs, gained during his prolonged administration of that department; and in all matters of official method, of procedure and etiquette, his guidance was especially valuable to a Minister altogether unversed in the details of administration.
Lord Salisbury was, like Lord Randolph Churchill, a prodigious letter-writer, and he seems to have written no fewer than 110 letters to his lieutenant—many of them very long ones—all in his beautiful running handwriting, during the seven months of his first Ministry. How he ever found time to write so many to a single Minister is a marvel. Often three letters passed between them in a day. On July 25, for instance, Lord Salisbury wrote four times to Lord Randolph on different subjects, all of considerable importance. Two of these letters cover between them five separate pieces of closely written notepaper. To a later generation, accustomed to shorthand writers and anticipating a time when it will be regarded as inconsiderate to address a person on business otherwise than in type, such manual energy is astounding. Whether elaborate letter-writing between Ministers is conducive to the facile conduct of public affairs is doubtful. Strength and time are consumed, difficulties are multiplied and differences only look wider and more formidable when marshalled by ink and paper. Many of the questions laboriously discussed on both sides of this correspondence could have been despatched immediately at an interview or even upon a telephone. But Lord Salisbury did not like political conversations. He felt that he could not do so much justice to himself or his opinions in an informal discussion as he could either in a letter or a speech. He belonged, moreover, to a formal, painstaking, old-fashioned school; and in Lord Randolph Churchill he had a pupil unexpectedly apt and energetic.
Whatever may have been lost at the time has been gained by posterity, for Lord Salisbury’s letters have a character and interest apart from and even superior to the important matters with which they deal. A wit at once shrewd and genial; an insight into human nature penetrating, comprehensive, rather cynical; a vast knowledge of affairs; the quick thoughts of a moody, fertile mind, expressed in language that always preserves a spice and flavour of its own, are qualities which must exert an attraction upon a generation to whom the politics of the ‘85 Government will be dust.
Throughout their association the letters of both men—whether in agreement or in sharpest dispute—are marked by personal goodwill; and Lord Randolph never for a moment drops the air of respect and deference with which he invariably treated Lord Salisbury and which is never more pronounced than in moments of stress. Lord Salisbury’s counsels and comments are always instructive and so often amusing that I may be allowed to transcribe a few at random: ‘My dear Randolph,’ the letters begin (June 25), ‘(if I may venture to address a Secretary of State in such familiar fashion!),—So much has been made of Herat, that we must do more than is possible to defend it’ (July 25). ‘I quite agree with your doctrine that it is better to go at the principal offender rather than the instrument—with one important qualification—if you can’ (August 4). ‘It is curious to notice how the "buffer State" policy has gone down in the world. When first I had to do with India, nineteen years ago, it was the supremest orthodoxy: you might as well have impugned one of the doctrines of Free Trade’ (August 4). Upon a curious little question of Portuguese ecclesiastical establishments in India he writes (August 24): ‘I am glad to see you take the same view as on the first blush I was inclined to take. The Government of India by its nature must ignore religious questions, except so far as they take the secular form of furnishing a pretext for either robbery or riot.’ ‘I am inclined to think you underrate H——. He knows these odd people in a way we cannot do. I should be as much inclined to set up my opinion against that of the keeper of an asylum on the best way of keeping lunatics quiet’ (November 24). Again, in another letter on the same day: ‘I am afraid F.O. and I.O. have hopelessly divergent opinions on H——’s trustworthiness. But I think that when Departments differ on a point which is not worthy of reference to the Cabinet, the best rule is that the Department should prevail which will have the trouble of dealing with the consequences of a mistake if a mistake is made. The India Office view should therefore prevail.’
‘Honours’ and promotions of various kinds prove a thorny business to handle, more especially after an episode soon to be recorded. ‘I was not aware that Mr. * * * had been disappointed. He bears a high character in the service, and I shall be glad to assist him if I have the opportunity. But it is perilous to go out of the beaten track in matters of promotion. I remember doing it in 1878, and I had a vote of censure moved on me in the House of Commons by a Conservative’ (January 8, 1886). ‘I am afraid that in the matter of honours I am as destitute as you are. The C.B.’s are all exhausted’ (June 20). And again (November 13): ‘My Baths are all run dry.’ ‘There can be no doubt that * * * is a very fit candidate for the Privy Council and I will submit his name at once. We may take more time to consider over the other two—who are less distinguished: it will be time enough to settle whenever a much-to-be-regretted accident befalls us. Unless * * * is very much changed, I doubt your getting him to resign for a Privy Councillorship. If I might follow the precedents of the early Church I should like to make * * * a Bishop’ (December 5). ‘That fountain which you desire to have turned on for the benefit of Birmingham is frozen up—and only runs with a dribble. It is very difficult to restore it to activity’ (November 13).