India Under Ripon: A Private Diary

“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.

“25th Jan.– I have written out a ‘draft scheme of the Deccan University,’[12 - See Appendix.] and posted it to Salar Jung with a letter for the Nizam. I am satisfied with it. Also I have written a letter to Gordon about his mission to the Soudan, which was announced in the telegrams two days ago. I consider that he will certainly come to grief if he holds to the opinion he expressed to me last year about the necessity for Egypt of retaining Khartoum. I have a letter of Eddy Hamilton’s in my possession now, saying that he, Gordon, was considered in Downing Street to be out of his mind. But time works strange revenges. All this, with about a dozen other letters, I wrote yesterday.

“My letter to Gordon is as follows:

    “Delhi, 24th January, 1884.

“My Dear General,

“I feel obliged to write to you about your mission to the Soudan. I see it announced to-day by telegraph, without explanation of its object, but I cannot wait till more definite news arrives, and I desire to warn you. It may be you are going there to make peace between the Mahdi and our troops in Egypt, to acknowledge his sovereignty in the Soudan, and arrange terms for the evacuation of Khartoum. If so, I can only wish you God speed. It is a good work, and you will accomplish it. But if, as I fear it may be, from the tradition of some of those in power, the object of your mission is to divide the tribes with a view to retaining any part of the country for the Khedive, to raise men for him, and scatter money, it is bad work, and you will fail. It must be so. Neither your courage nor your honest purpose, nor the inspiration which has hitherto guided you, will bring you success. I know enough to be able to assure you that every honest Mohammedan in Egypt and North Africa and Arabia sympathizes with the Mahdi’s cause, not necessarily believing him to have a divine mission, but as representing ideas of liberty and justice and religious government, which they acknowledge to be divine. For this reason you will only have the men of Belial on your side, and these will betray you.

“I beg you be cautious. Do not trust to the old sympathy which united Englishmen with the Arabs. I fear it is a thing of the past, and that even your great name will not protect you with them. Also consider what your death will mean: the certainty of a cry for vengeance in England, and an excuse with those who ask no better than a war of conquest. I wish I could be sure that all those who are sending you on your mission do not forsee this end. Forgive me if I am wrong in my fears; and believe me yours, very gratefully, in memory of last year,

    “Wilfrid Scawen Blunt.”

“To-day we spent in visiting the great monuments south of Delhi, in company with the Loharos and Prince Suliman Jah, who organized the expedition. We breakfasted at Humayum’s tomb, over whom our friends the Loharos said prayers, he being their ancestor, not Prince Suliman’s. It was touching to see this, and to notice a little offering of withered flowers on the tomb of a man so long dead. We went to the top of the monument. Prince Suliman, who is well read, or rather well learned, in history, gave us the story of Humayum and his dynasty, and pointed out to us on the Hindu fort the tower from which his great ancestor fell while looking at the stars. They brought him here and buried him, and his widow raised this pile, under which the rest of the members of his family lie. Thirty-five emperors and kings of Delhi lie buried, he told us, within sight of where we stood. Parrots were building in the chinks of stone; but there are guardians still of the tomb. It was here that later the last King of Delhi fled, and was taken by Hodson, with his two sons, while they were praying, and on the way back from here that he shot the young princes, our friends’ uncles. We asked him whether they had been brought back here to be buried, and he smiled sarcastically. They were thrown like the corpses of dogs into the street in Delhi, and none knows where they now lie. The King himself lies buried in Rangoon. From this we went across to the beautiful mosque and more beautiful tombs of other ancestors, and of a dead Persian poet, which we found decked with fresh flowers. Our friends talked all the while of these dead heroes as still living, and, when the young Loharo exclaimed ‘This country is full of poets and kings and learned men,’ I, for a moment, thought he meant at the present day. But it was of those under ground he was talking. The living people of the place are only poor guardians of the tombs who live on alms.

“With the Kottub I was less interested – though we climbed to the top – and mourned with our friends the decay around us. It is here that the bloodiest of all the battles between Hindus and Moslems was fought, 200,000 being slain. We talked of Tamerlane, and I denied he was a Moslem, but my friends warmly supported his character in this respect, and said he was a friend of the Seyyids, though they knew of his cruelty and savage conquests and his pyramids of skulls. But he, too, was their ancestor. With the Prince we talked in Arabic. He is a Shahzadeh through his mother, the daughter of the King of Delhi, and he is great grandson of the Emperor Akbar.

“Coming home, while we were changing horses, I talked to them of the university, about which they enthusiastically promised to busy themselves. It appears that Ikhram Ullah, being Seyd Ahmed’s nephew, had told them nothing of this scheme. They spoke strongly against Seyd Ahmed as a ‘nature worshipper,’ not a Moslem, and the young Loharo will get up the Committee here at Delhi. This visit took the whole day, and we only got back to our hotel at sunset.

“26th Jan.– We left Delhi for Ulwar. In the gray of the morning the old man, the elder brother of the Prince but by another mother, called with messages of farewell and a little box containing the Prince’s photograph, and some small ornaments, a present from his wife, which being of no value we gladly accepted.

“At Ulwar we were met at the station by the Diwan and the Mohammedans in the Maharajah’s employ, and were driven to the house of His Highness’s doctor, Dr. Mullen, an Irishman, and an excellent fellow, with a real knowledge of the country, and much sympathy with the people. According to him, Ulwar and Rajputana, generally, are very lightly taxed. The assessment made by Colonel Paulett is only one-sixth of the net produce, and the Maharajah constantly remits arrears. Of him he spoke very highly as a young man who did his duty well as a ruler, and as being an excellent judge of character. He also praised the Diwan. We discussed most of the political and social problems of India, and he takes rather an optimistic view of things from his experience being almost entirely of Rajputana. But he admitted that in other parts there was a very dangerous ill-feeling between the English and the natives, though he said they would never rebel again after the lesson of the Mutiny. I disagree with him here. On the whole an honest good fellow who does his duty and seems to be liked by all.

“In the evening we called on the Maharajah in his country palace, and found him with his Court, looking on at lawn tennis. He is very fond of horses and of sport, but it is difficult to have conversation of an intimate nature with a man in his position. Mullen tells me he, the Maharajah, was not highly struck with Laik Ali when they met at Calcutta, but that the Diwan thought well of his abilities.

“The Mohammedans of Ulwar are much in decay. Sheykh Wajidah told me that most of them are hardly Mohammedan except in name, dress like Hindus, and have no education. He himself is from Lucknow, and his friend Enait Ullah, the Commissioner-in-Chief, is also from the North-West. The Maharajah is very liberal to Mohammedans, but the community is not flourishing. They said they had heard of me as a friend of Islam, and were delighted at the university idea. They did not like Seyd Ahmed.

“27th Jan.– Visited the city palace, which is one of the most beautiful in the world. We were shown the library, where there was a splendid Koran, and portraits of the Emperors Baber, Humayum, and Akbar. The first two pure Mongols in face, with little slant eyes, the other a regular Brahmin in appearance, as he was in character. Also the armoury.

“In the afternoon we came on to Jeypore.

“28th Jan.– Jeypore is a less interesting place than Ulwar, and we saw it in a less interesting manner. The only Mohammedan I met was the hotel guide, an Agra man, who had been educated in the Agra College. He told me there were a good many rich Mohammedans at Jeypore, both Zemindars and in the Army, besides shop-keepers, forming one-third of the population. The chief Mulvi’s name is Sadr-ed-Din.

“We called at the Residency, dull people; and waited at home for a couple of hours before the train started, expecting the visit of Mir Kurban Ali, a member of Council, to whom I had written announcing our arrival. But he did not come, which shows how difficult it would be to establish relations, except through introductions.

“We went on through the night towards Bombay.

“29th Jan.– All day travelling through an interesting country not unlike Nejd, only far better wooded. The only incident, an English lawyer at the buffet asking me whether I knew that ‘Mr. Blunt of Egyptian memories’ was in the train. He told us a good deal about Hyderabad, where he has practised; was there when Salar Jung died, and had had an appointment to see him on business that very morning; was of opinion he had not died a natural death, though the Residency doctors had certified it was cholera, but no post mortem was made. Some had put it down to tinned oysters, and several persons present at the picnic had been unwell but recovered. Salar Jung’s collapse was sudden and so complete he hardly spoke, and left no orders or directions about anything. There was a great deal of talk at Hyderabad about the probability of faction fights, but he himself did not think it would come exactly to that.

“30th Jan.– Arrived at Bombay for breakfast. A pile of letters and newspapers. Gordon already half way to Khartoum, taking with him the ex-King of Darfour. He is sure to come to grief, and I hope my letter will catch him in time.

“Called on Malabari, who, I think, is a little ashamed now of the line he took about the Ilbert compromise. He seems to think they will never get anything now without something like a revolution, which is wholly my own opinion. Also called on Mr. Mandlik, the Hindu Government pleader, who holds the highest position of any native’s at the Bombay bar. I told him the Patna story. He told me he had often been insulted himself; on one occasion turned out of a railway carriage neck and crop between Benares and Allahabad. Every native in Bombay had been subjected to such incidents, and he mentioned the instance of the Chief Translator to the Government, promising to furnish me with proofs.

“1st Feb.– Finished letters, and then started by midday train for Hyderabad. At dinner, in the refreshment room, saw, for the first time, a native in his own dress. He looked rather shy and nervous, like a femme honnête at Mabille, and I asked him if he did not expect to be rudely treated. He said ‘Oh, they look at me, but I am not afraid.’ He was a Mohammedan tradesman, and before going he gave me his card. When I told him my name, he said he had heard of me through the newspapers.

“2nd Feb.– All day in the train, which was several hours behind time owing to the crowds of people flocking to the installation – everything at the refreshment room at Wady eaten up by the Viceroy, who is just ahead of us – flags, greens, and flowers at all the stations – finally arriving at 9 p.m., to find that Cordery and all his guests are at Bolarum, so that we have had an eleven mile drive on the top of the railway journey. Solomon and the luggage only turned up this morning, 3rd February, having slept out somewhere on the road.”

CHAPTER IX

THE NIZAM’S INSTALLATION

    “3rd Feb.

“We are established in tents at a camp just outside the Residency, where Kurshid Jah does the honours to all strangers in the Nizam’s name. It consists of a large shamiana and fifteen principal tents arranged in a street, with flowers, in pots, down the whole row – very pretty certainly, but it wants the natural attraction of camp life, the individual choice of site one always finds in Arabia, and there are no beasts of burden near it, so that it has an unlocomotive look, ‘like a swan on a turnpike road.’ However, here we are. The tents seem to be occupied principally by members of the various suites, for the Commissioner-in-Chief is here, as well as the Viceroy, and the only bona fide traveller besides ourselves is Gorst. He tells me Churchill has written to me urging me to come home at once, as a great campaign is beginning in Parliament. We talked over Churchill’s speeches. He said he would have to modify the one on the franchise, but approved of the Irish one, as I do, although I don’t agree with a word of it, wishing to see Ireland independent. He asked me what I thought of the Egyptian speech, and I said ‘C’est magnifique; mais ce n’est pas la guerre.’ It has probably had something to do with the upset of Sherif’s ministry, but it has spoiled Arabi’s chance, at least for the present.

“This has been a day of profit. We breakfasted at the Residency with the Viceroy, who received us very cordially, and then drove down to Hyderabad, where we called on the Clerks and Keays to get news. Clerk is evidently very much down on his luck, as he tells us Salar Jung is. They consider that Cordery and Kurshid Jah are carrying all before them. The idea of cholera in Hyderabad is all a ‘plant’ to get the Viceroy away from sources of intelligence. There has been no cholera, but Kurshid Jah cunningly chose, when his choice was given, to superintend the arrangements outside the town, leaving the internal arrangements to Salar Jung. His idea was that the Viceroy would decide the dispute about the Diwanship, and that the Viceroy would take Cordery’s advice or Durand’s; but I think he has outwitted himself, for Lord Ripon will leave the choice to the Nizam, and so in all probability it will fall to Salar Jung. Bushir-ed-Dowlah is in a great rage because the question of his precedence over Kurshid Jah has been decided against him. At first he threatened to leave the country and never return, but when he heard the news of the Nizam’s installation being fixed for this year he was pacified, as he believes the Nizam can reverse the decision. His secretary, Colonel C., told me this, and that when the news arrived he laughed ‘from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.’ And he, Bushir-ed-Dowlah, is also delighted at the birth of the Nizam’s son and heir, because it cuts Kurshid Jah’s son out of the succession. And so he has given up his idea of exile. Keay is full of a new letter he has written to Lord Ripon about the railway scheme, which certainly seems a famous swindle. I sent a letter by him to Salar Jung, begging him to see me to-morrow, and to send Seyd Huseyn and Rasul Yar Khan. The nuisance of being out here at Bolarum is beyond conception; and Lord Ripon has told Anne that he is much disgusted at it. Walter Pollen, who has to do aide-de-camp’s duty to-morrow, will have to drive seventy-two miles backwards and forwards in the day.

“We dined at the Residency, Anne sitting between Lord Ripon and Mr. Grant Duff, I next to Primrose, an arrangement made on purpose; and he and I talked the whole time. We began about Baring’s letter and my relations with Downing Street and the Foreign Office, about which I spoke with absolute frankness, as well as about my relations with Churchill. He said the letter had surprised him; and it is evident Eddy has written to him lately, for he said he believed I was for Halim’s return to Egypt. He talked with the same apparent frankness, and we discussed the advantage of telling the truth in politics. He assured me neither Lord Ripon nor he ever lied about public matters; the most he himself ever did was in the case of impertinent questions being asked him, when he thought a lie was sometimes necessary. I told him Lyall’s views on the subject, and we discussed Lytton’s character, and Dufferin’s. He asked me my opinion of Dufferin, and I told him I did not consider him at all a serious man; but I thought he would make, in some ways, a successful Viceroy, because he would take the Indians in with his good manners and sympathy and pretty speeches, but he would do nothing for them in the way of giving them liberty. He told me he had been in correspondence with Malabari; and that it had been touch and go work when the Ilbert Bill was compromised. Malabari had written to him very frankly on the subject, and he had shown the letter to one of the civilians, whose only remark had been, ‘What cheek of a native to write like that.’ I warned him not to try such tricks as the compromise twice; and he seemed quite to admit that it was a shady business, and that nothing but Lord Ripon’s immense popularity pulled him through. ‘Lord Ripon,’ he said, ‘was very near going down to posterity in India as a traitor instead of a benefactor.’

“We then talked about the Patna business, and he said inquiries had been made; but I told him it was useless making them through the civilians, and that Lord Ripon should send down one of his own aides-de-camp – and I suggested Walter Pollen – to hear their complaints. He promised as soon as they got back to Calcutta to have the inquiry properly made. But I must insist further on this. I got him also to take down Ragunath Rao’s name for Lord Ripon to see him as he went back through Madras, and Mandlik’s at Bombay. The latter, however, he already knew. I saw Trevor watching us. He was sitting opposite, but could not hear what we were talking about. Cordery, too, looks very uneasy. I don’t think Lord Ripon has talked to him at all yet.

“After dinner Lord Ripon came to me and took me aside into an inner room, and asked me my opinion as to whether the Nizam would speak frankly to him about his wishes, as he considered that these wishes ought to be the first consideration in appointing to the Diwanship. I told him that it entirely depended on his own manner towards the Nizam, and that if he took the Nizam by the arm, and spoke kindly to him and reassured him, and told him that no ill consequences would follow, and he would not be dethroned or deported or otherwise punished, he no doubt would speak exactly what he thought. I felt sure he had been intimidated by people here (meaning Cordery), and would require encouragement. Here at Hyderabad he was quite a different being from what Lord Ripon had seen him at Calcutta. I had seen him looking frightened here, as if afraid to speak. Lord Ripon then spoke about the difficulty there was in finding any one to advise the new Diwan for his good. All the English about him wanted money and things for themselves. I said that it required somebody who really wished well to the Hyderabad state, that I felt sure there would be no difficulty in making things go well if the will was there. I could do it myself, I was confident, if I only had time to devote to it. But who in the world was there? I then told Lord Ripon about the university scheme, and seeing him interested, said that I had hopes the Nizam would make himself its patron – indeed, I believed he had the intention of speaking to Lord Ripon about it – and hoped he would give it his approval. Lord Ripon said he quite approved of it, and thought it would do great good, and agreed with me that a religious basis was essential to all education, and he should certainly encourage the Nizam to proceed with it. He answered me, laughing, that he acquitted me of all idea of preaching sedition. This is very satisfactory.

“4th Feb.– It struck me, during the night, that Moore would be the man to make things go here, and I shall certainly propose it to Lord Ripon, that he should be appointed special adviser to the Diwan. At breakfast sat next to Primrose and Father Kerr, and afterwards talked to Primrose about Lord Ripon’s coming interview with the Nizam, and impressed upon him strongly the necessity of reassuring the Nizam, for I was certain intimidation was exercised on him by Cordery. I also explained my view of the action of the Foreign Office with regard to Hyderabad, how they had feared Lord Ripon might give back the Berar province, and so had connived at misgovernment in order to make this impossible. The retention of Berar was a cardinal point of policy with the Foreign Office, and they did not scruple about the means. We were then interrupted by Primrose being sent for by Lord Ripon, and while I was waiting till this was over, the guard of honour and band arrived for the Nizam’s visit, and we went back to our tent to be out of the way.

“Primrose told me to-day that he was in correspondence with Godley, but very little with Hamilton, that he had been quite as averse to the Egyptian War as Godley was: and I warned him that they must not think of sending Indian troops against the Mahdi, as the Mohammedans would be very indignant. (He said there was no chance of that, and that it had been a great question in 1882 how the Mohammedans would take the sending of troops.) But they had a great respect for the Sultan as long as he appeared as their champion; they would not listen to him if he went against them; they did not care much for his spiritual claims, witness that they were publishing my book in Urdu at Calcutta.

“The Nizam’s visit was announced by a salute of twenty-one guns, and I hear from Walter Pollen that after the ceremony His Highness had a long talk of over half an hour with the Viceroy, and came out looking much excited; so I fancy he has told all his thoughts. At luncheon were Bushir-ed-Dowlah and Salar Jung, and I sat next the latter, and improved the occasion, and had a talk with him also afterwards on the verandah. I told him of my conversation last night with Lord Ripon, and assured him that the choice of a Diwan would be left to the Nizam. This, he said, he had been told by Mr. Durand on his way back from Calcutta. But he asked me several times, and earnestly, ‘Are you sure Lord Ripon means well to us, to the Hyderabad State?’ I told him I was sure of it, but not of the Foreign Office. The Foreign Office and the Viceroy were two very different things. ‘Oh yes,’ he said, ‘we know that. But are you sure of Lord Ripon?’ I said: ‘Very sure, and I intend to propose to him to appoint some Englishman, whose duty it will be to counsel the Diwan, not in English, but in Hyderabad interests.’

“I then talked to him about the university, and he said the Nizam would certainly take it up, but not till after the ceremonies. He would not have time to think of it. But I urged on him very strongly not to let the Nizam miss the opportunity of announcing at least his intention to the Viceroy. He seemed surprised to hear that Lord Ripon should have approved the scheme, but said, if that was the case, the Nizam should certainly speak to him. I then gave him some good advice. I said: ‘You are likely now to be made Diwan, and so you will have, after the Nizam, the highest position of any Mohammedan in India. If you aspire to lead the Mohammedan world you must be careful not to offend their prejudices. You should hold a middle course. The general of an army does not go forward reconnoitring. He stays with the main body. This you must do. Be careful not to be too European in your dress or thoughts, or at any rate language, for this will give offence.’ He said: ‘It is hard for one brought up as I have been.’ ‘But,’ I said, ‘you must sacrifice something if you are to play a great political part. Don’t at any rate throw yourself too entirely into the Aligarh set.’ He said: ‘Oh, I don’t care about Seyd Ahmed. My father always used to say he was a humbug. He cared only for display.’ I said: ‘I don’t want you to go so far as that, but be moderate and be careful.’

“I trust that Laik Ali may become Diwan, for, under good guidance at starting, he may make a very good minister. I am sure he means well, but he is a bit childish, and his manner is not quite so good as one would wish. He has an abrupt way of talking, which strangers might take for rudeness; some have, as I know. I noticed that Cordery’s manner to him and Bushir-ed-Dowlah was not empressé. Bushir-ed-Dowlah was in high spirits. Salar Jung has not told Rasul Yar Khan of my arrival, giving as his reason that yesterday he, Rasul Yar Khan, being Sadr es Sadur, was occupied all day with the Nizam, praying with him on the occasion of his birthday. I feel pretty sure, however, that there was some other reason, and hold to my belief that he and the Nizam and Vikar-el-Omra were warned against me in Calcutta, probably by Stewart Bailey. His manner to-day was very cordial as in old times, but I noticed he seemed a little uneasy, as if watching to see who might be watching us.

“Father Kerr sat at my other hand at lunch. He is sad, having just received a telegram announcing his mother Lady Henry Kerr’s death, whom I used to know so well years ago at Huntlyburn.

“We stayed quiet all the afternoon, and dined at the camp, as there is a large official dinner at the Residency. I sat next to Mr. Lambert, the head of the secret police, who said he had heard from Primrose about the Patna affair, and was making investigations. I gave him an exact narration of the thing, which he did not seem to have had correctly; and he expressed unbounded astonishment at it, as an incident the like of which had not occurred in his twenty-one years’ experience. He would not hear of its being a common thing for natives to be insulted on the railways, and seemed even a little to doubt my accuracy. But I think I convinced him, at any rate, about the particular incident. As an instance of the contrary, he told me how Villayet Ali had written to him and asked for a special compartment for himself and friends to go to the Exhibition a little while before, and how he had willingly written to the station master about it. But the tale seems to me to prove, if anything, the danger natives run – or why should a special compartment be needed?

“At half-past 9 o’clock we went to the Viceroy’s levée, and Lord Ripon, as soon as he saw me, came to me rubbing his hands, and said, ‘Well, I have had my talk with him [the Nizam], and I flatter myself, at last, that he has told me everything.’ Lord Ripon did not say precisely what this everything was, but I gathered from him in our subsequent conversation, which lasted about a quarter of an hour, that there had been some ‘eye-openers.’ ‘There is no doubt either,’ he said, ‘about his wishes. He spoke them strongly and decidedly; and my opinion clearly is that they ought to be followed.’ I did not press to know whom it was the Nizam wished for as Diwan, for I shall learn that later, but I feel no doubt it is Salar Jung. I asked Lord Ripon, however, whether on the whole he had been favourably impressed by the young Prince, and he said: ‘Oh, very much so. He has ideas and opinions of his own. But I told him things which I fancy he is not likely to hear again, and which will be good for him.’ So I suppose he has given him a thorough good talking to about his morals. Lord Ripon was anxious to know, and asked me to find out if possible, what the Nizam’s own impression of the interview had been, and I shall probably be able to do so to-morrow.

“I then suggested to him my idea about an official adviser being appointed to the Diwan, whoever he might be, with written instructions to work in Hyderabad interests, not those merely of the Indian Government; and I expressed my opinion strongly about the Foreign Office policy in respect of the Berars. Lord Ripon would not admit that I was correct in my view of the case, but his protest was feebly made. The essential in any settlement of the Hyderabad problem is to remember that the Resident cannot be trusted to advise for good. What Lord Ripon said was: ‘Would not this be introducing new Englishmen into Hyderabad? It seems to me that there are too many already. I should like to make a clean sweep of them all.’ I said: ‘By all means make a clean sweep.’ I suggested, however, that Moore might be intrusted with the new duty, as a man who really understood and sympathized with the native races, and really wished them well.

“We were talking a quarter of an hour in this way, very much in evidence, and I noticed poor Cordery watching, and Clerk once even came up and interrupted our conversation. I don’t know what they can all think of my position here as the Viceroy’s adviser, in spite of the ‘Wind and the Whirlwind,’ and everything else. Indeed, it is a singular one, and it shows how strangely politics are managed here, and at home, too, for that matter, for I am going about with a decree of exile from Egypt in my pocket, no more nor less than if I was a proclaimed rebel.

“5th Feb.– A day to be marked with white. We went quite early into Hyderabad to the Clerks, where we had tea, and then went on to the Chou Mahaila Palace, which is the old palace where installations have always taken place, and where Mahbub Ali was this morning installed. The city was a magnificent sight, crowded with people and decked with flags, the people most of them sitting on the ground, and even some of the soldiers on duty so seated, as they used to be at Haïl. Everything was most orderly, with the single exception of one man, probably an Arab, who seemed to have been making a disturbance, for he had a sword drawn in his left hand, and was being led away by four or five others. We arrived at the same time as Cordery, and walked through the palace garden to the open hall where the Durbars are held. Here the nobles were assembling, and those officers of the English cantonments who had received invitations, perhaps one hundred and fifty of each, the natives occupying the right, the English the left of the thrones. We had reserved seats, Anne’s close to the thrones, mine a little way down, and I sat next to Lambert and close to Gorst. We had an hour to wait, but we occupied it talking to Rasul Yar Khan, Seyd Huseyn Bilgrami, and others of our friends, who were in fine feather, for our balloon has gone up at last, and at 2 o’clock last night Salar Jung was named Munir el Mulk and Diwan. The news began to be whispered round, though it seemed too good to be true, for, till the last moment, it had been believed that Cordery and the Foreign Office would carry the day. But it was soon proved by the arrival of the Peishkar, who came to take his seat next the thrones but was bundled out of it, to his confusion, and made to take his chair several places down. Poor old man, he seemed quite dazed, for it was the first he had heard of his disgrace.

“There was a good deal of confusion, too, among the nobles, and C. whispered to me that his Nawab, Bushir-ed-Dowlah, had fainted just as he stepped into his carriage, the news being brought to him that his chair had been put below Kurshid Jah’s, and so had gone home to bed. But the triumph of the Salar Jung party was crowned when he and Saadut Ali arrived with the Nizam, all three wearing yellow turbans in sign of their alliance. Salar Jung, I must say, showed considerable dignity and absence of visible elation; but the coup de théâtre to us who knew what lay behind the scenes was all the more striking. The Nizam and Viceroy arrived together, and sat down together on two chairs in front of the two equal thrones, and, after some announcement made by Mr. Henderson, who did the duty of herald, Lord Ripon made an excellent speech full of good advice and piety, though I was a little disappointed that he did not allude to the Nizam’s position as head of the Mohammedans of India, but perhaps this was thought indiscreet. Lord Ripon alluded, however, to old Salar Jung’s services to the State, and declared the policy of the Indian Government to be that of peace and goodwill towards the Nizam’s, and the encouragement of good government and progress.

“The speech affected me almost to tears, and it seemed to affect the Nizam, whose answer, drawn up for him by Seyd Huseyn, was almost inaudible. He behaved, however, with considerable dignity during the rather trying quarter of an hour when, seated on his throne by Lord Ripon’s side and girt by that nobleman with a new diamond-hilted sword, put on on the wrong side, he waited to be photographed, for such was the banal termination. Swords also were given to Salar Jung, Peishkar, and Kurshid Jah, the latter’s with an ivory hilt, reminding one of a large paper cutter, perhaps lest he should go home and commit suicide with it, for he must have been very angry. I hear the poor Peishkar was so utterly confounded that he walked home immediately after the ceremony without waiting for his carriage, and was picked up somewhere in the street by his servants, having lost his way. But this may be an exaggeration. Lord Ripon has a pleasant voice speaking, but his style is that of a sermon, which, however, suited the occasion, and all the Hyderabadis, except the disgraced nobles, seemed delighted with him. I believe this appointment of Salar Jung to be generally popular. But Rasul Yar Khan told me there were some who were not best pleased.

“Then we drove back to Mrs. Clerk’s, where the Commissioner-in-Chief and Sir Frederick Roberts were also invited to luncheon. Sir Donald Stewart is a dear old fogey, but with wits enough to appreciate Colonel Moore, and Sir Frederick is a gallant officer of the unostentatious, strictly professional type. I like them both. We stayed there the afternoon, and went in the evening to a great banquet at the Palace, in the new part of it, which is extremely handsome and built in excellent taste only about twenty years ago by an Italian architect. The illuminations, both in the Palace and in the city, and for miles round, surpass anything I ever saw attempted in Europe, even at Paris in the palmy days of the Empire. There were at least two hundred guests at this dinner, which was held in a very long hall. Anne was taken in by the Viceroy, but I had to shift for myself, and was fortunate enough to get hold of Seyd Ahmed, the Persian attaché and translator of the Foreign Office, an Afghan with whom I had a most instructive conversation. He had been educated by some missionaries at Peshawar, and is to a certain extent denationalized, but is a good Sunni, and seems still fond of his own people. He was employed in that mission to Shere Ali which was refused admittance to Ali Musjid. I asked him his candid opinion about the Afghan War, and he said he could not approve it either at the time or now, though Shere Ali had brought it on himself by intriguing with the Russians. He said, moreover, that any Mohammedans who might have pretended to me that they approved the war were hypocrites, for all were strongly against it. The Mohammedans of India were, nevertheless, loyal as a body, though not all. They were so from interest. He lamented the quarrels which divided them, and was sure I was doing a good work in bringing them together. If they only were united, and knew their strength, the Government would be obliged to do something for them. But they were far from united. He did not approve of Seyd Ahmed of Aligarh, though far from a bigot. He had been brought up an utter bigot till he went to school at Peshawar, but now his ideas were changed. He also told me he had travelled with Major Napier in Persia, and corroborated much of what Malkum Khan had told me of the Persians. He was of opinion that they were doomed to fall to Russia, they were so much diminished in numbers, only three to five millions in a territory as large as India. Afghanistan was far more prosperous. He would not hear of his countrymen being treacherous, except to Englishmen, who they thought were spies, or in cases of blood feuds among themselves. He thought I might travel safely among them, and the best way to go would be through Persia. He had heard Malkum Khan’s history, much as I had heard it from Malkum Khan himself. I met Vikar-el-Omra after dinner, who seemed in his old friendly mood. I asked him how he liked the new political arrangement, and he said he thought he did, but Salar Jung was very young to be Diwan. I believe his idea had been a council of seven, with himself as one of them. So he is naturally a little disappointed. I told him I thought the success or non-success of Salar Jung would depend mainly on the kind of advice given him by the Resident. We slept at Bolarum.

“6th Feb.– A telegram from Ferid-ed-Din begging me to congratulate the Nizam in the name of the Mohammedans of Allahabad and the North-West Provinces, and also a letter signed by some hundred of the chief Mohammedans of Patna expressing their confidence in me. I have written to Salar Jung with the first message to beg him to remind the Nizam of his promise to speak to the Viceroy about the university, for it appears that Lord Ripon told Anne he had expected the Nizam to broach the subject. But they seem lukewarm about it, and, if they don’t take it up more seriously than they seem now inclined to do, I shall wash my hands of them, and look to Lucknow as a better place. It would ruin the scheme to establish it here without thorough and determined support.

“We went to a review with Sir Frederick Roberts, and had a good deal of talk about Egypt and the Mahdi. There is a telegram to-day announcing a new victory and Baker’s flight from Tokat. It seems, too, certain that some at least of the Khedive’s troops went over to the Mahdi. This will seal the fate of Khartoum, I hope, before Gordon arrives there. But the military here all count on a campaign with Indian troops. I warned them, however, that such an adventure would be most unpopular with the Mohammedans of India, and with all classes of natives.

“We lunched with the Viceroy, but everybody was busy with the mail which goes this evening, and my only conversation was with Cordery about architecture. I feel that he is very angry with me, and no wonder. I hope Lord Ripon won’t leave him here. It is not in human nature that, having been foiled in his plans and forced to recognize Salar Jung as Minister, he should cordially support him, and less than cordial support will not do.