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Title: Lord William Beresford, V. C., Some Memories of a Famous Sportsman, Soldier and Wit
Author: Menzies, Mrs. Stuart
Language: English
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LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD, V.C.
SOME MEMORIES OF A FAMOUS
SPORTSMAN, SOLDIER
AND WIT
[Illustration: “FIGHTING BILL”
LORD WILLIAM
BERESFORD, V.C.
SOME MEMORIES OF A FAMOUS
SPORTSMAN, SOLDIER AND WIT
BY
MRS. STUART MENZIES
WITH APPRECIATIONS BY
THE EARL OF CROMER &
ADMIRAL LORD BERESFORD
38 ILLUSTRATIONS, ALSO REPRODUCTIONS
OF THE SIGNATURES OF THOSE
PRESENT AT THE FAMOUS FAREWELL
DINNER AT CALCUTTA
HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED
ARUNDEL PLACE HAYMARKET
LONDON S.W. ✤ ✤ ✤ MCMXVII
PRINTED BY WM. BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND
INTRODUCTION
There are days when we are under the spell of the past, when lovely
times, lovely things, and delightful people that have lapsed into
“have beens” are again with us, in a mist of memories and dreams, but
memories and dreams that have been true and real--to be treasured
always.
In my memory there are silhouetted against the horizon of the past a
few figures (amongst the many kind friends who have journeyed with
me) who stand alone, whose greatness of character singled them from
their fellows, others whose splendid works for state or humanity
have marked them, but I pause before a figure that would have told
us he was nothing in particular, yet few men have been so loved, so
universally popular as the late Lord William Beresford, V.C., one of
the most charming characters and greatest personalities of the age, a
brave and gallant soldier, a loyal and faithful friend, possessing an
extraordinarily generous nature. A man has not lived for nothing, and
must be something in particular, when his friends can truly say that
of him.
I have waited a long time before undertaking this work, hoping some
more able pen than mine would give to his old friends and future
generations some record of Lord William’s eventful life, a few
memories of his many kindnesses and unostentatious charities, his
pluck, deeds of daring and unfailing cheeriness.
No such scribe appearing, I have taken my courage in both hands
and endeavoured to pay a small tribute to the memory of an old and
valued friend, being encouraged by the letter I received (January
16th, 1916) from Lord Beresford, better known and loved by the great
British public as Lord Charles Beresford, in which he wrote:
1, GREAT CUMBERLAND PLACE,
LONDON, W.,
_19th January, 1916_.
“DEAR MRS. STUART MENZIES,
“Thank you for your letter. I am so delighted to hear that you are
going to write the life of my dear brother Bill; he had the most
lovable nature, the most charming character, the pluckiest spirit
and most generous mind that I have ever met. He was always thinking
of others and never of himself. I shall be delighted to help you in
any way that I can.
“May all good luck attend you. The whole family will be most
interested in your life of perhaps one of the most gallant
officers, noble gentlemen, and charming comrades that ever existed.
“Yours very sincerely,
“CHARLES BERESFORD.”
Lord Cromer also, who was for some years associated with Lord William
in India, wrote to me saying:
“DEAR MRS. STUART MENZIES,
“As I understand that you are engaged in writing the life of
my old and very dear friend, Bill Beresford, I hope you will
allow me to bear testimony to his great charm of character, his
characteristically national sense of humour, and his staunch
loyalty to both his country and his friends. I knew Bill Beresford
very well and had a great liking for him. He was a fine gallant
fellow with all the pluck and dash of his race and family,
and moreover had a keen sense of humour. I was for some years
associated with him when he was on the staffs of Lord Northbrook
and Lord Ripon when Viceroys of India. He was the cheeriest of
companions and the most gallant of soldiers--in a word, one of the
best fellows I have ever come across during a long life.
“Very sincerely yours,
“(Signed) CROMER.”
I wish to take this opportunity of thanking the many friends of his
and mine who have been so good as to assist me, without whose help I
could not have hoped to do justice, even in this small measure, to a
life so full of incident, and kindness for all who were associated
with him. More especially are my thanks due to his brother, Lord
Beresford, Lady Waterford, Edith Lady Lytton, Lord Ripon, Lord
Rossmore, Sir Claude de Crespigny, his brother officers in the past,
and his contemporaries on the various staffs, to Mr. Arthur Meyrick,
also to his old and faithful friend, Mr. Charles Moore.
I have used one or two cuttings from old newspapers, but having no
idea what they appeared in, I have been unable to ask permission to
reproduce them, therefore ask forgiveness from all on whose grounds I
may have trespassed.
I must also ask the indulgence of my readers in the matter of dates,
having had to rely on memory to a great extent, aided by a few
letters, papers, race cards, photos, etc., being handicapped by there
being no mother or wife living into whose store-house of precious
letters, and documents, it might be possible to dip, also by so many
of Lord William’s intimate friends having left us and passed into the
great Silence.
A. C. STUART MENZIES.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
EARLY DAYS
PAGE
Early Childhood--Eton Days--Mischief and Whackings--Companions
at Work and Play--Sporting Contemporaries of Note--The So-styled
“Mad Marquis”--His Bride--Carriage Accident--Ride in Grand
National--House of Commons Acknowledgment of Lady Waterford’s
Goodness to the Irish during the Famine--Joins the 9th Lancers in
Dublin--A Few Sporting Mishaps--Why he Spent his Life in India 1
CHAPTER II
GOOD-BYE TO ENGLAND
Coach-driving Exploit--The Badger Bet and How It was Won--The
Raleigh Club and the Garçon Glacé Episode--Some Merry Frequenters
of the Club--Regimental Racing--The Tenth Hussars’ Steeplechases,
Exciting Race Between H.R.H.’s Horse and Lord Valentia’s--Aldershot
Coaching Accident--Polo at Woolwich--Sale of 10th Hussars’
ponies--Friendly Altercations at York--The Three Brothers’ Race--Au
Revoir to Merry England 24
CHAPTER III
JOINS VICEROY’S STAFF
What he Might Have Been--A Happy Exile--Lumtiddy Hall--Unsuccessful
Journey to Pay Calls--Appointed to Staff of Retiring Viceroy--First
Summer at Simla--Appointed A.D.C. to Lord Lytton--Annandale
Racecourse--Birth of _The Asian_--Dinner to Its Sporting
Owner--Winner of Viceroy’s Cup--Delhi Durbar, 1887--Mighty
Preparations--A Terrible Accident 46
CHAPTER IV
HE WINS THE V.C.
Hero of Khartoum’s Fame and Tragedy, as Private Secretary--Indian
Famine--Lord William and the Jowakis--A Month’s Holiday
in Afghanistan--Back in Calcutta--Barrackpore Monument
to Lady Canning--Lady Waterford as Artist--Cawnpore
Memorial--Racing--Trouble in South Africa--A Favour Granted--Off
to the War--A Friend Left in Charge of Affairs--Some Fights for
Queen and Country--Some Fights for Private Reasons--Exciting
Moments--Irish Bravery of Man and Beast--Two V.C.’s at
Dinner--Receives Reward at Hands of the Queen-Empress--A Shower
Bath in Dublin--Some Racing and a Row--A Thrice-run Race--Miller
Addresses Lord William 65
CHAPTER V
THE VICEROY RETIRES
Change of Government and What it Meant--Why it Took Place
at Simla--The Ceremony--An Anxious Moment--A General
Stampede--Retirement of Lord Lytton--Work of Which Viceroy?--Lord
William’s Services Valued--A Bet Between Him and the Author--Lord
William’s 10 to 1 96
CHAPTER VI
AN IDEAL MILITARY SECRETARY
Dignity and Humour--Some Tests of Both--Affection of the Natives
for Lord William--How They Tried to Please him--What Happened
on a Slippery Floor--Some Tableaux--A Supper and a Race--What
the Jockey Club Would Have Said--Lord Ripon’s Message to the
Amir of Afghanistan--The Amir’s Reply--The Work of the Military
Secretary--Swelled Heads and Outgrown Shoes--How Lord William Dealt
with Them--Pay of Military Secretary--Compensation for Diminishing
Rupee--No Fish to Fry 112
CHAPTER VII
SOME RACING EXPERIENCES
First Racing Partnership--Some Successful Horses--The “White
Mutiny”--Military Secretaries Come and Go--Fleur-de-Lys’
Affection--Racing--Paperchasing--An Exciting Drive--Ponto’s
Admiration for the Fair Sex--Inverarm--How a Sick Soldier
Fared--Love of Children--A Children’s Party and How it Ended--The
Home for Lost Dogs--Simla Gymkhanas--A Sore Head--A Change of
Mounts--Sipi Fair and Marriage Market--What Some of Lord William’s
Friends Said--Why he was like King Solomon 132
CHAPTER VIII
LORD RIPON LEAVES INDIA
Arrangements for Entertaining Visitors--Lord de Grey’s Shooting--A
Good-looking Staff--A Fancy Ball--The Baby cries--Lord William
Feeds the Infant--Singing Quadrilles--Pig-sticking--The Tent Club
and Its Members--A Case of Mistaken Identity--The Reputation
Match--Lord William Resolves to Give Up Racing--Lord Ripon’s
Farewell 153
CHAPTER IX
LORD DUFFERIN’S VICEROYALTY
Lord Dufferin succeeds Lord Ripon as Viceroy--Durbar at Rawal
Pindi to Meet the Amir of Afghanistan--A Few Annoyances--How
it All Ended--Some Presents--Outline of a Viceroy’s Tour--A
Nasty Fall--Sale of Confederacy Horses--“Father Time”--Parlour
Fireworks--A Ride to the Pyramids--Unostentatious Charity--Some
Impositions 177
CHAPTER X
DEAR LONDON AGAIN
The Man Who Thought He Was King--A Dance After Dinner--How It
Ended--Corney Grain in Disgrace on the Door-mat--Racing--Trouble
in Burmah--Lord Dufferin and Lord William Go There--Collecting the
Offertory in Church--Some Schemes of Interest 196
CHAPTER XI
SOME SPORTING MEMORIES
Lord William’s Driving--One or Two Experiences--A Sermon in the
Smoking-room--Useful Shirt Cuffs--Convenient Handwriting--New
Year’s Parade--A Waiting Race--A Spoilt Meeting--Purchase of Myall
King--Dufferins Leave India--Rules Issued by Lord William for Their
Departure 214
CHAPTER XII
A WINNING YEAR
On Leave--At the Derby Once More--Lord Lansdowne Takes
Office--Conjurer’s Discomfort--A Gentle Reproach--Irishmen
in India--Another Racing Partnership--A Turf Club
Inquiry--Paperchasers--A Telegram from Lucknow--Lord William’s
Health--Jockey in Trouble Again 233
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 250
CHAPTER XIV
HIS MARRIAGE
First Visit to the Deepdene--Finds a Relation in His
Bedroom--Engagement to be Married Announced--School Treats--One New
Year’s Morning--King Edward VII Visits the Deepdene When Prince of
Wales--A Narrow Escape--“Tommy, Where Are You?”--Why Lord William
wore a Turban--Fast Trotters and Their Doings--Mishap on the Way
to the Derby--Racing in England--Racing Geography--Another Racing
Partnership--Accident While Hunting--Mr. Palmer to the Rescue--Lord
William Tells a Story Against Himself--A Son Born 283
CHAPTER XV
BRINGS TOD SLOAN TO ENGLAND
Engagement of Tod Sloan as Jockey--Beresford Family
Affection--Caiman Wins Classic Race--Democrat and His Races--A
Tip for the “Blues”--Accident to Sloan--His Downfall--Five Years’
Racing and Winnings in Stakes Alone--Volodyovski Bought--At
Liverpool When Ambush II Won the Grand National 299
CHAPTER XVI
LAST YEARS
“1900 ... and Feels It”--Affection for the 9th Lancers--Help for
a Brother Mason--Those Who Loved Him--Friends, not Sight-Seers--A
Treasured Gift--Sale of Horses at Newmarket--Purchasers and
Prices--Fate of Democrat--Volodyovski Wins the Derby--Too
Late--Fierce Ownership Dispute--The Law Settles It--Broken Head of
a small Beresford 315
ILLUSTRATIONS
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD (from _Vanity Fair_) _Frontispiece_
TO FACE PAGE
LORD WILLIAM AT ETON. AGED 11 4
CURRAGHMORE 16
9TH LANCERS IN DUBLIN, 1867 18
9TH LANCERS’ POLO GROUP AT WOOLWICH 38
THE FAMOUS BERESFORD BROTHERS’ RACE 42
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD AND CAPTAIN CLAYTON 48
“LUMTIDDY HALL” 50
9TH LANCERS’ MESS, SIALKÔTE, 1876 52
THE DELHI DURBAR, 1877 60
XMAS CARD TO THE AUTHOR 72
CAPTAIN CHARLES MUIR (NOW COLONEL), A.D.C. TO VICEROY AND
COMMANDING HIS EXCELLENCY’S BODY GUARD 80
LORD WILLIAM AND PONTO 80
LORD LYTTON, FAMILY, AND STAFF, 1877 104
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD’S HORSE DEMOCRAT 132
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD LEADING KATE COVENTRY, RIDDEN BY
DEWING. CALCUTTA, 1881 132
GROUP AT BARRACKPORE ON THE LAWN 154
STAFF AND GUESTS AT VICEREGAL LODGE, SIMLA 156
SOME NOTABLE MEMBERS OF THE CALCUTTA TENT CLUB 160
LORD RIPON, LADY RIPON, AND STAFF 166
THE LATE MARQUESS OF RIPON, VICEROY OF INDIA 172
LORD DUFFERIN, FAMILY, AND STAFF 182
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD IN 1886 218
THE VICEROY’S STAFF IN LIGHTER MOMENTS 232
THE MARQUESS OF LANSDOWNE 234
BEAUTIFUL BLITZ 242
PILOTEER WINNING A TROTTING PRIZE 242
H.H. THE MAHARAJAH OF PATIALA 252
NEW PAVILION AT ANNANDALE 256
MYALL KING’S GRAVE 262
REPRODUCTION OF SIGNATURES OF THOSE PRESENT AT THE CALCUTTA
BANQUET, DECEMBER 30, 1893 272
LILY, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH 284
THE DEEPDENE, DORKING 286
FRONT HALL AT THE DEEPDENE 286
LORD WILLIAM, IN OFFICIAL CAPACITY 298
LORD WILLIAM AND HIS SON BILLY 298
TOD SLOAN IN LORD WILLIAM’S COLOURS 304
CAIMAN AT THE POST FOR THE MIDDLE PARK PLATE THE DAY HE
BEAT FLYING FOX. TOD SLOAN IN LORD WILLIAM’S COLOURS 304
LORD WILLIAM AND LORD MARCUS BERESFORD 314
COLONEL LORD WILLIAM LESLIE
DE LA POER BERESFORD, V.C., K.C.I.E.
1846-1900
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD, V.C.
CHAPTER I
EARLY DAYS
Early Childhood--Eton Days--Mischief and Whackings--Companions
at Work and Play--Sporting Contemporaries of Note--The So-styled
“Mad Marquis”--His Bride--Carriage Accident--Ride in Grand
National--House of Commons Acknowledgment of Lady Waterford’s
Goodness to the Irish during the Famine--Joins the 9th Lancers in
Dublin--A Few Sporting Mishaps--Why he Spent his Life in India
The subject of these memories was the third son of the fourth Marquis
of Waterford, who married the third daughter of Mr. Charles Powell
Leslie of Glaslaugh, M.P. for Monaghan.
The children of this union were five sons:--
1. John Henry de la Poer.
2. Charles William de la Poer.
3. William Leslie de la Poer.
4. Marcus Talbot de la Poer.
5. Delaval James de la Poer.
In 1866 the fourth Marquis died, and was succeeded by John Henry,
the first of the five sons mentioned already, and elder brother
of the Lord William of whom I write. One of the most delightful
characteristics of this family has always been its unity; the
brothers were devoted to one another, their home and their parents.
To the end of his days Lord William spoke of Curraghmore as “Home,”
and of his devotion to his beautiful mother. She must have been
a proud woman, having brought into the world five such splendid
specimens of humanity, all handsome, having inherited the Beresford
good looks, high spirits, and pluck, whilst happily imbued with the
pride of race which is the making of great men.
There is nothing snobbish or vulgar in being proud of our ancestry,
though it may seem so to those who are unacquainted with their own.
Even savages have pride of race, and it has been so since the days
of Virgil, and before that. Let us hope it will always be so. It is
our birthright, which is well, for it helps men and women to keep
straight, sorry to be the first to lower the standard or bring it
into disrepute.
Look at the pride of race among the different tribes in the East how
strong it is, their castes are profound and deep religions to them,
their inherited pride of race, for which they willingly die, rather
than suffer any real or imaginary indignity.
This instinct is still strongly marked in our present-day Gypsies,
who are exceedingly exclusive and proud of their race, and they will
tell with pride, if you know them well enough, that the reason they
are, and will be ever more, accursed and hunted from place to place,
is because a Gypsy forged the nails used in the Crucifixion.
The Lithuanian Gypsies say stealing has been permitted in their
families by the crucified Jesus, because they, being present at the
Crucifixion, stole one of the nails from the Cross, after which
stealing was no longer a sin. This sounds irreverent, but they do not
treat it lightly. The belief has been handed down to them, grown with
them, and they seem sadly proud of their history, legend, or whatever
it may be.
From an early age Lord William seems to have realised what was due to
his family and his race, for with all his high spirits, even in the
effervescence of youth, never once has anybody been able to say he
brought discredit on his family.
The Beresfords have for generations been keen sportsmen,
high-spirited, unspoilt, straightforward gentlemen; using the word in
its old-fashioned full significance. Lord William was no exception
to this rule, and it has not been given to many to be so universally
popular. His worst enemy was himself, inasmuch as he habitually put
more work into twenty-four hours than most people would consider
a fair week’s allowance. From an early age he loved excitement,
courting danger and adventure, resulting in most of the bones in his
body having at one time or another some experiences, and I shall
always think that but for the juggling tricks he played with his
life he might still be with us, and the world the better for his
cheeriness, generosity, and loyal friendship.
This is not a proper biography in the everyday acceptance of the
term, it aspires to nothing so great. I have neither the competency
to entitle me, nor the ambition to urge me to write a formal and
stereotyped account of Lord William’s life, but only some memories,
full of the little things that matter, small details that bring us
closer to the character and introduce us to the personality of the
man.
It is not as a soldier, it is not as a statesman that I claim
applause for Lord William, though both may be owed, but for his
thoroughness in whatever he undertook, his unfailing cheerfulness,
his loyalty, energy, and marvellous pluck.
In his early days the principle of--“Whatsoever thy hand findeth
to do, do it with all thy might,” must have been driven home, for
whatever he undertook, that he certainly did with all his might; but
his generosity and his kindliness of nature and his tact must have
been born with him on July 20th, 1847, in the quaint little village
of Mullaghbrach, in the north of Ireland, where his father was rector
until he succeeded his brother, the third Marquess, in 1859. The
early days of Lord William’s childhood were spent in this peaceful
home with the usual accompaniment of nurses, followed by a German
governess until he was considered old enough for further instruction,
when the Rev. Dr. Renau’s Preparatory School at Bayford was chosen,
the present Lord Methuen being there at the same time. After which,
when eleven years old, that is in the year 1858, he was sent to Eton,
first to the house of Mr. Hawtry, and then into Dr. Warre’s.
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM AT ETON, AGED 11]
It is interesting to note that the present-day actor is a relation of
Mr. Hawtry of Eton fame. It was through the Eton Hawtry’s persuasions
that the Prince Consort founded a prize for modern languages at
the College.
Lord Cheylesmore, Sir Simon Lockhart, and Lord Langford were at Dr.
Warre’s house with Lord William, the two latter being among the
Doctor’s earliest pupils. Lord Langford says, “Bill was never out of
rows of different sorts.” While Lord Methuen tells me he remembers
seconding a boy named Allen at his tutor’s in a fight with Lord
William, adding, “And it was a very hard fight,” but being senior to
Lord Bill he saw very little of him while there. Dr. Warre-Cornish,
Vice-Provost of Eton, said, “I always liked him. His Eton record is
chiefly connected with schoolboy sports and skirmishes with masters
at Windsor Fairs, and other places. He kept many bulldogs and was of
a turbulent disposition.”
The gas works were close to Dr. Warre’s house, and behind them was
the rendezvous of those who had any differences to settle. Lord
Langford says, “I think Lord Bill often paid a visit there!” and
adds, “On one occasion he captured a polecat and tied it to the leg
of a chair in Dr. Warre’s house.” We can well imagine the breathless
moments in store for the household. Various surreptitious journeys
were taken to feed it and make sure of its safety. Then there was the
exciting time of changing the animal’s quarters and attaching it, in
spite of protestations, to a certain chair!
History does not relate what happened, but something entertaining, no
doubt. After being a year at Eton, Lord Bill heard of the death of
his uncle, and that henceforth his home would be at Curraghmore.
While at Eton he seems to have been chiefly conspicuous for his love
of sport and fighting, his high spirits, ready wit, and popularity
with all. He worked as much as was necessary and no more, for he
loved the river, running after beagles, paper, or any other form of
sport, more especially a fight. Happily in his time the battles were
not so serious as they were in 1825 when Lord Shaftesbury’s brother,
Francis Ashley, was carried home to die after fighting for two hours
with a boy named Wood.
Like a few other men one could name who have been educated at public
schools, and later held important and responsible posts, he could
not always depend on his pen carrying out his wishes and spelling
properly. Long after having arrived at years of discretion, shall I
say? he constantly wrote to an old friend as “My dear Jhon,” meaning
John. One day we were talking about certain clever people being
unable to spell properly and chaffing him about it; nobody enjoyed a
joke against himself better than he did. Somebody asked him, “Bill,
why don’t you write the word you are uncertain of down on a piece of
paper with all the variations as they occur to you? The look of the
word would tell you which was right?” He replied, “I always do write
it down on a piece of paper and never doubt its being right.” After
which there was nothing more to be said, and we decided it would all
be the same a hundred years hence, therefore it did not matter; and
at any rate he had my sympathy. He agreed with Yeats, the Dublin
poet, who sang:
“Accursed he who brings to light of day
The writings I have cast away;
But blessed he who stirs them not,
But lets the kind worms eat the lot.”
Certainly Lord William’s letters were short and sweet; he did not
commit more to writing than he could help, thereby proving that he
was a wise man.
Five years were spent at Eton, and they were spoken of as happy ones.
Even at that early age his passion for racing betrayed itself and
led to trouble, for on one occasion the attractions of Ascot became
too much for him. Knowing that if he asked for leave to go it would
be denied him, he took French leave, and received a whacking on his
return, which reminds me that before Lord William’s time a certain
flogging block belonging to the College disappeared one day, having
been kidnapped by one of the Beresfords, the third Marquess, I think,
when he was at Eton, and is now in evidence at Curraghmore, or was a
few years ago. As far as I can gather there was no hue and cry after
that interesting piece of furniture, and the next time there was any
whacking to be done another block was found to be reigning in its
stead; so presumably there was a supply kept in the store-room among
the pickles and the jam.
Lord William’s contemporaries, besides those already mentioned, were
the present Sir Hugh McCalmont, afterwards a brother officer and
life-long friend, the late Lord Jersey, and the present Lord Minto.
Lord William was fag to both the latter in succession, Mr. Charles
Moore, another life-long friend, and, I believe, Lord Rossmore.
At the age of sixteen, Lord William left Eton and went to Bonn
to study French and German under a tutor named Dr. Perry, others
studying there at the same time being the Hon. Elliot and Alec Yorke,
and the Hon. Eric Barrington, who tells me he was also with him at
Eton, where “his principal reputation was that he and a friend of his
had been subjected to more floggings within a certain time than had
previously been recorded by anyone else.” Sir Eric says when he found
Lord William at Bonn: “I was both surprised and delighted to find
Bill Beresford there, not having hitherto associated him with foreign
languages.” Some amusing accounts are given to me also of the Bonn
days, where he says: “Our tutor had a peculiar way of accustoming us
to the use of the German tongue, as, though we had a resident German
tutor in the house, we were strictly forbidden to make any German
acquaintances in the town, and were enjoined on our word of honour
to talk German to each other during certain hours every day. A worse
practice could hardly be imagined. Nevertheless, Bill undoubtedly
acquired a certain facility in chattering, which he afterwards told
me was most useful to him with the Dutch during the South African
campaign.” Again speaking of Lord William he says: “His nature was
exceedingly lovable, and he was very popular with his fellow pupils
and tutors, whom, however, he took no pains to conciliate. During
one altercation with his German tutor, the latter was heard to say,
‘Beresford, I loved you once, but I despise you now!’ which diverted
us greatly at the time.”
From accounts of those times it appears that it was the habit of
Dr. Perry to give a gala supper the night before breaking up for the
holidays, at which all the instructors were present. On one of these
occasions a certain student at the University who had been giving
Lord William lessons in Latin, and who was much attached to him, made
the following speech in English with a very strong German accent: “I
have heard of Merry old England, but I have never heard of the Merry
old Ireland. I wish to propose the toast of the Merry old Ireland and
the Merry old Beresford.”
To amuse himself at Bonn, Lord William used to boat with his
companions on the Rhine, and took special delight in the company of
an English livery-stable keeper, who kept a certain number of riding
horses of inferior calibre, with which he was intimately acquainted,
riding being his favourite recreation.
I am afraid Lord William constantly broke Dr. Perry’s rules, and
was frequently being sent away in consequence; but his mother, Lady
Waterford, said she took no notice of the letters telling her of her
son’s dismissal, as they were invariably followed by others recalling
the sentence. Dr. Perry was really much attached to his unruly pupil,
and his pupil had a very loyal feeling towards him, and was the means
once of saving his life. Sir Eric Barrington tells me the story, and
I feel I cannot do better than repeat it in his own words.
“Our Easter holidays were short and spent in expeditions to
Switzerland or the Tyrol. In the spring of 1866 Dr. Perry took six
of us to the latter. We were to walk across a pass with two guides,
carrying our knapsacks. We walked for ten hours with very little
food; the guides became exhausted and refused to go any further, but
Dr. Perry was determined to reach the village we were making for.
He misunderstood the directions of the guides and lost his way. We
boys were exhausted also by this time, so stopped at a small hay-hut,
where we resolved to stay the night. Dr. Perry went on in the dark,
and attempted to descend the mountain-side alone. Beresford became
uneasy about his safety, and went off to look for him. The rest of
us settled down and went to sleep, when we heard Beresford shouting
he had found Dr. Perry, but could not persuade him to return, as he
had sighted the lights of the village in the distance. Still uneasy,
Beresford started off again with a friend in the early hours of the
morning to look for Dr. Perry and see if all was well. After some
time he thought he heard a faint cry, and looking over the side of
the mountain descried the object of his search some way down sitting
astride an old tree stump, which had mercifully broken his fall, but
still in a most perilous position, and trying to keep himself awake
by digging his fingers into the decayed wood. From a cottage nearby,
Beresford managed to get a rope, but it proved too short, so he set
off for the village, where he found his companions and the guides had
arrived. Though feeling thoroughly tired out and done up, he insisted
on returning with the guides to show them where to find Dr. Perry,
and to help in the rescue. He was released with difficulty and after
some hard work.
“Dr. Perry always felt he owed his life to Beresford’s perseverance,
and on that account was disposed to show leniency when his high
spirits led him into mischief on future occasions.”
Bill’s main characteristics were courage and loyalty; it was
impossible not to be warmly attached to him.
It having been decided that the Army was to be the profession of
Lord Waterford’s third son, after leaving Dr. Perry, several other
tutors were requisitioned to put the necessary finishing touches to
his military education, after which he passed very creditably into
the Army at the age of twenty, joining that popular regiment, the 9th
Lancers, as a cornet in 1867.
They were a merry crowd in those days. Among Lord William’s boon
companions in the regiment were the present Lord Rossmore, otherwise
known as “Derry,” Captain Candy, “Sugar Candy,” Captain Clayton,
“Dick,” the present Colonel Stewart Mackenzie, “The Smiler,” General
Sir Hugh McCalmont, and the Hon. Charley Lascelles, who could do
such wonderful things with horses owing to his good hands and sweet
temper; and many more too numerous to mention, not a few of whom,
like Captain Candy, Captain Clayton, and Mr. Lascelles, have moved on
into another room, where their friends can no longer see them.
It is an interesting fact that all good sorts and popular men get
nicknames attached to them, it being a sign of their value and the
affection borne them by their comrades. Not often are selfish prigs
called by nicknames, possibly they may be known behind their backs
as “The Swine” or “The Prig,” or some other uncomplimentary epithet
which can only be used sub-rosa, for who could so address them to
their faces?
Among his friends, who were legion, Lord William was known as “Bill.”
His brother, Lord Charles Beresford, is always called “Charlie” in
the most affectionate way by even the crowd in the streets, who all
love him and look upon him as their own.
Those were grand happy days when Lord William first joined the 9th.
He and his young friends had the whole world before them, life and
health then being a matter of no consequence, no consideration, for
in the arrogance of youth who takes thought of the morrow? If only
when people are young they could be persuaded to take a practical
view of life and map out their days, not spending strength too
freely, or trying nerves too highly, but keeping a little in reserve,
something to draw upon. Uncontrolled spirits often lead to disaster
early in life. The Irish are especially buoyant and their mad spirits
infectious and lovable.
In later years Lord William often spoke of those early days,
referring in affection or admiration to many of his sporting
contemporaries, among whom were Mr. Garret Moore, who between ’67
and ’69 rode many winners in Ireland and elsewhere. (He died in
1908.) Roddy Owen, a great winner of races, especially in India and
Canada up to 1885, after which he surprised people at home a little
by winning the Grand National on Father O’Flynn in 1892, Sandown
Grand Prize two years running and, if I remember rightly, the Grand
Military on St. Cross. Poor “Roddy,” as everybody called him, died
in Egypt on active service in 1896, mourned and regretted by everyone
who knew him.
Colonel Meysey Thompson, who had known Captain Owen all his life,
wrote some charming lines “In Memoriam” when he died. I do not
remember them all, at any rate not correctly, but one verse I know
ran:
“May the date palm’s stately branches
Above thee gently wave;
May the mimosa’s scented wattles
Bedeck with gold thy grave.”
But as I am not writing Roddy Owen’s life I must hurry on, especially
as poking into the pigeon-holes of the past is apt to bring on fits
of the blues.
Captain Bay Middleton, another great friend, however, must not be
forgotten. He was fond of cricket as well as hunting and horses. A
member of the Zingari, Captained by Sir Gerard Leigh, and while in
Ireland they played the 9th Lancers. I do not remember who won, but
when the game was over Lord William, to amuse his friends, suggested
a run with the drag hounds, managing to find mounts for all; they
rode just as they were, in flannels. Needless to say the fun and
enjoyment were great.
It was delightful to hear these boon companions living over
again some of these times amidst happy laughter and friendly
recriminations, though perhaps sometimes tinged with regrets for the
days that were gone. Captain Middleton died in 1892, so another old
friend passed out of Lord William’s life. It was in April, I think,
when Captain Middleton was riding at quite a small fence (as is so
often the case), that his horse pecked, throwing its rider forward,
and, as almost invariably occurs when a horse is in trouble, threw
up its head, trying to recover itself, and in so doing broke Captain
Middleton’s neck. He was no doubt a great man on a horse, and as a
rule they went kindly with him, but I have seen him at times by no
means gentle with them, I am sorry to say, and not always when the
horse was to blame.
Another great friend I must not pass over was Captain Beasley, called
“Tommy” by Lord William, who rode in twelve Grand Nationals. I have
only mentioned a few of the names that recur to me; it would take
many volumes if I were to enumerate all his great friends, for few
men had so many.
At any rate the fun in those days was certainly fast and furious,
some of the practical jokes being distinctly drastic though
considered very amusing at the time. I doubt if in these days they
would be considered jokes at all. It does not follow that what was
considered funny and witty by one generation will be considered the
least amusing by the next, any more than what was true yesterday need
be true to-day, and often is not.
On one occasion when his friend, Captain McCalmont, was driving him
from Cahir Barracks to Clonmel, while passing through the town of
Cahir, Lord William asked if he would mind pulling up for him to do
some shopping. When he returned with his purchases they consisted
of a sack of potatoes; this was planted at his feet, and as they
continued their drive he amused himself by throwing potatoes at
everyone they met. Some smiled and seemed pleased with the delicate
attention and gift of potatoes, others, however, were not, therefore
a crowd soon gathered and embarked on reprisals. The potatoes were
coming to an end, but his blood being up, he purchased more and
continued the battle. As they proceeded along the ten miles to
Clonmel, news of the battle had evidently travelled ahead of them,
for in places they found people waiting for them armed with missiles,
including brickbats. It now became a question how they were to get
away themselves. However, the Irish understand one another, and all
the country was fond of the Beresfords, from whom they had received
many considerations and benefits. At that time, in the eyes of the
people, the Beresfords could do no wrong, so it ended, I am told,
quite happily. In the autumn of our days it seems a very long time
since we were so full of beans that we could do such mad things, the
result of animal spirits.
Lord William’s uncle, the third Marquis, has been called the “Mad
Marquis” owing to the extraordinary things he did, probably from
the same overflow of spirits from which Lord William suffered when
throwing potatoes at peaceful pedestrians on the road.
The so-called “Mad” Marquis certainly did some very astonishing
things, but purely, in my opinion, from devil-me-care fun and
spirits, for when married to the beautiful Louisa, daughter of Lord
Stuart de Rothsey, whom he passionately loved, he settled down after
sowing his wild oats, and became a model husband and landlord,
beloved by the whole countryside.
It appears to be rather fashionable to think everyone is mad whom
we do not understand, or even perhaps when they are superior to
ourselves in courage or intellect.
I leave it to my readers to decide if he earned the sobriquet, if
they think a man who was so exceedingly devoted and tender to his
wife, and so full of consideration for his countrymen, could be
rightly termed the “Mad Marquis.”
When he brought home his bride to Curraghmore, seeing a crowd of
country folk and tenants collected to greet them, he leaned over his
wife and lifted her veil so that all might admire, so great was his
pride in her.
Soon after their marriage, when driving his wife, one of the horses
became restive while descending a steep hill. The only thing to be
done to avoid a bad accident was to turn the horses into a hedge at
the side of the road. Lady Waterford tried to get out, and in so
doing fell, hurting her head, causing concussion of the brain. Her
devoted and alarmed husband carried his unconscious wife in his arms
down the hill, through the River Clode, back to the house, that being
the shortest way, so that she could be properly attended to more
quickly. For several days and nights he scarcely left her; it was
hardly possible to persuade him to come away even for food; and when
the doctor said all her beautiful hair, that he admired so much, must
be cut off, he would allow no hands to do it but his own.
[Illustration: CURRAGHMORE]
Like all the Beresfords, the third Marquis was handsome and
loved sport in every form, especially fox-hunting; he hunted the
Curraghmore entirely at his own expense. It was a sad day when his
mount, May-boy, made a mistake over a rotten wall, which put an end
to all his hunting.
It must have been from this uncle that Lord William inherited his
love for steeplechasing, for we hear of the Marquis in 1840, when
it was first becoming the fashion for gentlemen to ride in chases,
riding in the Grand National. He died in 1859 without any children,
and was succeeded by his brother, Lord William’s father, as fourth
Marquis.
In 1847 (the year Lord William was born) Lord and Lady Waterford
devoted most of their time and much money in endeavouring to relieve
the distress in Ireland caused by the famine. The Marquis imported
shiploads of wheat for the people, and Lady Waterford’s goodness was
so great that the House of Commons felt constrained to acknowledge it.
In return for this, these excitable people in the following year,
under the influence of agitators, became so rebellious to law, and
order and to their best friends, that Curraghmore had to be fortified
against them. The Fenians declared they would capture Lady Waterford
and carry her away to the hills.
This alarmed her husband so greatly that he took her to her mother,
in England, for safety, returning himself to Ireland to protect
the home he loved so dearly, and if possible save the people from
themselves.
To return to Lord William. The 9th Lancers were stationed at Island
Bridge Barracks, Dublin, when first he joined, which for an Irishman
was all that could be desired. Then on from Dublin to Cahir, which is
not very far from Waterford and Curraghmore; a troop of the 9th were
quartered at Waterford and half a troop at Carrick-on-Suir, close to
Curraghmore. For a time Lord William was with the Waterford troop,
and it was a curious turn of fortune’s wheel that brought H.M.S.
_Research_ to Waterford harbour at this time with Lord Charles as a
middy, or at any rate a very junior officer. Lord Marcus, in the 7th
Hussars, was also at home on leave, so the brothers were together and
there was a very happy gathering.
All the officers of the 9th and the _Research_ were constantly at
Curraghmore, where they were always sure of a welcome, many carrying
away with them into foreign lands an affectionate gratitude for Lady
Waterford, who had made a home for them all when in the neighbourhood.
[Illustration: 9TH LANCERS IN DUBLIN, 1867
_Back row, from left to right_: Lieut.-Surg. Longman, Riding Master
Crowdy, Capt. F. Gregory (A.D.C. to Lord Lieut. of Ireland), Capt.
Cave, Capt. Hardy, Lieut. Gaskell, Cornet Stewart-Mackenzie.
_Second row_: Cornet Willoughby, Cornet Lord Wm. Beresford, Paymaster
Mahon, Lieut.-Col. Johnson, Capt. Erskine, Lieut. Palairet, Lieut.
Green, Cornet Percy, Adj.; Quarter-Master Seggie, Major Rich in plain
clothes.]
The 9th Lancers had a pack of harriers when at Cahir, Lord William
acting as one of the whips. He had begun riding as a very small boy,
on a pony called The Mouse, which was shared by the three brothers,
each taking it in turn to ride. From this humble little mount he
was promoted to other ponies, on which he soon began to execute
little jumps, and ride about the country during the holidays. Before
many years had passed over his head he became a follower of the
Curraghmore hounds and other surrounding packs, often seeing more
of the fun on his pony than some of the field on famous horses,
partly owing to the plucky way he “shoved along” and to knowing the
country well, also partly to the happy way ponies have of turning
up unexpectedly and accomplishing wonderful feats by scrambling and
crawling along places where bigger horses cannot find foothold. The
old Curraghmore, now the Waterford, hunted a country of about
thirty miles from east to west, and twenty miles from north to south,
its boundaries being Tipperary, Kilkenny, and Wexford, and the sea
on the south. Having thus graduated in horsemanship, by the time he
joined the 9th he was known as a good man on a horse.
He naturally loved horses and dogs, and had many, being a good judge
of both. In consequence of the number of the latter he usually had
about him, Captain Fife, of the same regiment, when compiling an
alphabetical list of rhymes in connection with his brother officers,
on coming to the letter B, wrote:--
“‘B’ stands for Bill,
Many cur dogs are his,
Good-tempered but hasty,
And easily ris’”;
which, must be admitted, is a magnificent effort, even if it does not
scan very well.
Witnesses of the fun in those days say they can never forget the
delightful time when all the brothers were at home together. Each
a sportsman, each a wit, full of merriment and pranks, and all
especially delighted when Lord Charles danced a hornpipe for their
amusement. How Curraghmore must have ached for their voices when they
had, as the old song says, “all dispersed and wandered far away.”
It was when stationed at Cahir that Lord William began crumpling up
his bones owing to various tosses of sorts. At this time he owned
a very fast trotter, which could do sixteen miles an hour when
requested. He started one night with this fast trotter in a dogcart
to cover the three miles from the barracks to the station, taking an
English guest with him to catch the 10.30 train for Dublin. The road
was very dark and overshadowed by the trees of Cahir Abbey Park. Sir
Hugh McCalmont (then Captain McCalmont), a brother officer already
mentioned, was likewise performing the same journey bound for Dublin;
both started at the same time. Lord William set the pace, and was
soon out of sight and hearing. Added to the darkness, it was pouring
with rain. After journeying some little way Captain McCalmont was
held up by cries issuing from the gloom. Someone was shouting. He
pulled up in time to find his friend with his guest, his fast trotter
and some dogcart about the road. Lord William in his haste, combined
with the darkness, had driven at top speed into a cart, somewhat
to the surprise of the driver. The cart also looked as if taken by
surprise, in places. Having satisfied himself that no one was killed,
though all were more or less damaged, Captain McCalmont continued
with his “crawler,” as he called it, to the station and caught his
train, which is more than the fast trotting party did.
Trifles of this kind, however, never worried Lord William, for his
spirits were unquenchable.
One of the fastest runs with hounds he could remember, in those days
of scanty judgment, was when out with the Curraghmore hounds in the
northern part of the country. The fences were not very big, but the
pace was great. Lord William and Captain McCalmont were riding a
bit jealous, I think; after racing for about twenty minutes, they
both tried to fly a bank, with the natural result when jumping blown
horses. Captain McCalmont’s gallant little mare did not get up for
some time; she wisely lay still to recover her wind, but Lord William
had been so struck by her performance that he shouted, “I will buy
her”--and he did. But horses when asked to do too much, sometimes
break their hearts, and the mare was never quite the same again.
Whenever sport was to be knocked out of anyone or anything Lord
William was sure to be there. Nothing came amiss to him, fisticuffs,
American cock-fighting, hunting, racing, polo, the latter only just
becoming popular in England.
It was about this time that he came into his share of the family
fortune. He considered it so inadequate to his needs, that he decided
to spend the capital as interest. This is how he described it to me
one evening, years later, in the grounds of the Taj at Agra.
“So inadequate to my needs was the interest on my share, that I
decided to use my capital as income so long as it would last, and
rearrange my life again when it came to an end. I started a coach, a
stud of hunters, some racehorses, and laid myself out for a real good
time. I managed to hold on until just before the regiment was ordered
to India. Then, as the fateful day drew near, I thought I would have
one final flutter at the Raleigh Club. A turn up of three cards at
£1000 a card! I won the lot, was able to pay up all I owed and clear
out to India, cleaned out, but a free man as to debt.”
I do not feel I am betraying any confidence, as he told the story
to several people, and really it is an amazing example of what
pluck and daring, combined with determination, can do. A lesson in
resource and audacity that a young subaltern should arrive in India
a penniless soldier, and yet reach the height of social and official
fame combined with pecuniary comfort, as he did, in a few years. To
sit down with premeditation and map out such a wild scheme, and then
be able to bring it off and win the odd trick, was rather wonderful.
Possibly what he suffered during those years when he was riding for
a fall made him reckless, risking his life more frequently than he
otherwise would have done, thinking it was bound to be a short and
merry one, so what matter? Or, like others I have known when riding
for a fall, would not give himself time to think.
Some of the extraordinarily kind things I have known him do for young
men when in financial difficulties, though not overburdened with
cash himself at the time, leads me to the belief that he remembered
his feelings when the crash of his own arranging was drawing near,
assisted perhaps by a little luck, which saved him.
Considering that he was not a rich man, it was wonderful how lavish
was his unselfish and large-hearted generosity. I verily believe no
living soul ever went to him in trouble and was sent “empty away.”
Yet he could never bear his left hand to know what his right hand
was doing. It really ruffled him if he ever heard of it again.
Nevertheless, some of those near his left hand did know what his
right was doing, more often perhaps than he guessed.
Having explained the rather important financial position at this
time, we can return to the daily happenings, able to see some reason
in much that would otherwise seem of little consequence, but which
meant a good deal to Lord William, we can also admire more sincerely
the brain that evolved the scheme and carried it out.
Some will no doubt think, and possibly say, that the affection we all
had for Lord William has made me picture a faultless man; this is, of
course, not so, and it is not difficult to recognise his failings,
which he shared in common with the rest of mankind, but I do claim
for him that they were none of them mean, little, or contemptible,
and we do not always like people less on account of their faults.
Generosity may be called foolishness: pluck, foolhardiness: morals,
not such as would be considered a proper rudimentary system for
teaching in elementary schools: but if, after all that has been said,
a man can count hundreds of deeply attached friends, and not one can
say he ever did a dishonourable action, or willingly hurt another’s
feelings, I claim that man is great.
Lord William was an admirer of beauty and good taste; add to this, as
the cookery books say, his particularly charming manner, that would
woo the birds off the trees, and his good looks, it is small wonder
he was much loved by the fair sex.
CHAPTER II
GOOD-BYE TO ENGLAND
Coach driving Exploit--The Badger Bet and How It was Won--The
Raleigh Club and the Garçon Glacé Episode--Some Merry Frequenters
of the Club--Regimental Racing--The Tenth Hussars’ Steeplechases,
Exciting Race Between H.R.H.’s Horse and Lord Valentia’s--Aldershot
Coaching Accident--Polo at Woolwich--Sale of 10th Hussars’
ponies--Friendly Altercations at York--The Three Brothers’ Race--Au
Revoir to Merry England
In addition to being a consummate horseman, Lord William was an
accomplished whip. When in Cork some foolish person made him a bet
that he could not, at any rate, drive his coach down the steep and
precipitous steps leading from the barracks, thinking they had at
last found something he could not possibly do. He, however, closed
with the bet at once, saying that he would bet them even money he
would. What sum was offered and taken I do not remember hearing, but
have been given to understand it was fairly heavy, as the feat was
considered impossible and really offered mostly in jest. Imagine
everybody’s feelings when next day the coach, with the wheels inside,
Lord William strapped to the box, and the four horses well in hand,
were seen tobogganing down the steps, and what is more, accomplished
it in safety, winning the bet.
Making bets was always a weakness of Lord William’s. He acknowledged
it was a fool’s argument, but loved the excitement, moreover
generally won, which was an assistance to the exchequer--a matter of
some consideration.
It would fill volumes to give accounts of all the mad exploits
of those times. Captain Candy was a constant companion of Lord
William’s, and many of the thrilling adventures of those early years
were shared between them. They appealed to one another, being equally
generous and open-handed. Many still living can remember the lavish
hospitality dispensed by Captain Candy, though it is the fashion with
some to forget the hand that helped them. No one wanting a mount went
without, so long as Lord William or Captain Candy had one standing
in their stables. Both were riding for a fall, but wished all within
reach to share their joys while they lasted.
Hunting from Cork one day these two were riding close together when
Captain Candy, in taking a fence, found to his dismay that he was
jumping down a quarry, where he landed through the roof of an old
woman’s cabin, causing some splutter and consternation among the
inhabitants, who thought it must be the Fenians! One side of the
cabin had to be pulled down by Lord William before horse and rider
could be extricated. Strange to relate, no one was much the worse.
I think it would be a toss up which broke most bones during their
sporting careers. I myself saw Lord William break his collar-bone
twice and dislocate his shoulder three times on separate occasions.
Indeed, such small affairs became scarcely matters worthy of comment
with him.
From Ireland the 9th Lancers went, in 1868, to Newbridge, then
on in ’69--Hounslow; ’70--Aldershot; ’72--Woolwich; ’72--York;
’74--Colchester; ’75--out to India, and stationed at Sialkôte, after
which a new leaf was turned over in Lord William’s life, and the
writing on the page took another form.
He had a very uneventful time while the regiment was at Newbridge,
but while at Hounslow he was a good deal in Town, where his clubs
saw him fairly often. At Pratt’s one night he was talking to some
friends about a pet badger he had that could hold its own against
any dog. Someone, I think it was Captain “Chicken” Hartopp of the
10th Hussars, said they would like to see the animal, to which the
owner replied, “So you shall. What do you bet I will not walk down
to Hounslow and bring it back here by ----?” naming some incredibly
short time in which to accomplish the mission. Considering it almost
out of the question that this could be done in the time, a very
respectable sum was bet, and off started the badger owner to fetch
him, the bargain being that he must walk both ways. It was therefore
necessary to do some smart heel and toe work, which he carried out
faithfully, keeping a watch on the time as he went along. The badger,
as far as history relates, does not seem to have shown the least
surprise at his master turning up in the middle of the night in once
immaculate, but now very dusty, evening dress, and hurrying off with
him in his arms through the lamp-lit West End, to the amazement of
policemen and a few belated wayfarers. They both arrived within the
stated time, the bet being won, though the badger lost a beauty sleep.
The old Raleigh Club was a great institution in those days, much
frequented by the frisky men of the time, and all young officers
quartered within possible reach. It was quite _the_ thing in night
clubs. Its doors opened at dusk; when they closed, I do not know,
probably shortly before business people in the suburbs were eating
their early breakfasts. At any rate, nobody was anybody, who did not
belong to this club, which was approached by a tunnel, adding mystery
and charm. Within these portals huge sums of money changed hands,
highly flavoured stories circulated, and cards figured largely;
so did swearing, if I may believe what I am told. In fact it was
considered a sign of military efficiency.
One of the great surprises of my life was finding out, after I
married, that some of the most sedate-looking and highly proper
people I had been brought up amongst, who looked as if they would
faint if anyone said “Damn!” in their presence, were, in reality,
constant visitors at this club, and other popular rendezvous of fame
at that time, while their wives imagined they were seeing the boys
off to school, or some other highly domestic duty. As it was put to
me, some of these elderly friends of my early youth were among those
who “kicked up the most row.”
There was that great fine Irishman, the late Colonel King-Harman,
most majestic of men and model parent, who came to children’s parties
and danced with poor awestricken me, my feet seldom touching the
ground, but my heart full of admiration for so king-like a being. The
Raleigh knew him as one of the merriest, always ready for a rag.
Lord Alfred Paget, equerry to Queen Victoria, whom I used to admire
so much when I was a child, sat in front of us in church one winter
in the Isle of Wight. His commanding carriage, handsome dark eyes,
and beetroot complexion fascinated me; and he was so decorous
and good in church, with a pew full of daughters all apparently
reverencing him as I did, for he spent such a long time bending
over the pew and gazing into his hat when he came into church. And
the gallant way in which, without a smile, smallest hesitation, or
fluster, he disentangled the bonnets of two ladies who got mixed
up in front of him one Sunday. It came about through the lady in
the front pew getting up from her knees before the lady in the seat
behind her had completed her devotions. Consequently, when she did
get up the spangled aigrette in her bonnet mixed itself up hopelessly
in the veil and sweeping plume of the head-dress in front of her.
Both tugged and pulled, growing redder in the face and angrier each
moment. My eyes were riveted on the couple, appalled, wondering whose
headgear would be pulled off first, when the gallant equerry, without
moving a muscle of his face, reached over with his long arm and gave
one healthy tweak which separated the two bonnets, while a shower of
tinkling bugles fell from the aigrette to the floor, but still no
sign of mirth on the deliverer’s face. While walking home after the
service my father congratulated him on the speedy way he had freed
the ladies, but Lord Alfred was not unduly mirthful even then, when
out of church and all was over. Yet he too was no stranger at the
Raleigh.
Oh, yes, and there were many more who took part in those festive
evenings of long ago. Lord Hastings, a friend of Lord William’s,
and like him most generous, in his case too generous to last,
unfortunately; Colonel Valentine Baker, afterwards Baker Pasha, with
his gentle voice and tragic history; Colonel Shaw of the London Fire
Brigade and patron of the Gaiety Theatre: all of whom I had regarded
with youthful awe and reverence.
It was in the Raleigh that Lord William and one of his brothers, Lord
Marcus, I believe, or both of them, for some reason, or perhaps for
no reason, put the hall porter into the refrigerator. The heat of
the man’s body, or his language, caused the ice to melt, so one of
them drew from the tap some water into a tumbler and sent it with
his compliments to a friend in the smoking-room, describing it as
“Garçon Glacé.” The porter was left in a little too long, and there
was some trouble afterwards. This became known as the “Garçon Glacé”
incident. Everyone thought it funny except the waiter, and he had to
be pacified. Derby week was the time when the Raleigh excelled itself.
Cards never really fascinated Lord William as racing did, and in
later years he seldom touched them, but in the ’sixties and early
’seventies there was an epidemic of high play which nothing seemed
able to restrain. If cards were forbidden for high stakes at clubs
the members used to hire houses and play, or go to hotels, even play
in their bedrooms if nowhere else was available. Sharp practice,
however, was not in vogue at that time; it followed later, many
stately homes being broken up in consequence.
Poor old Raleigh! I wonder if to-day any of the ghosts of the past
re-visit it and look on in wonderment at the changed conditions. Now,
it is a club for overseas soldiers, who seem to have caught a little
of the infection, for during the heavy snow-storms of the early part
of this winter (1916) the present club men gathered on the roof and
hurled snowballs at the passing taxi and ’bus men, while a crowd
gathered to watch the fun. The cabmen and other recipients of the
missiles seemed to enjoy the joke, glad to see the soldiers amusing
themselves after their strenuous time at the front. Truly change is
the order of the universe, one of its most unalterable laws, and we
must march with the times, in step to its music. Much as we may look
back on the golden “have been” days, we must not allow ourselves to
become old derelicts, towed along in the wake of progress, but adapt
ourselves to the many changes, though never ceasing to regret the
loss of friends and playfellows of the olden days.
Early in ’69 Lord William began taking an active part in regimental
races, also in any others where he saw a chance for any of his
stud. On April 1st that year he ran a horse in the Queen’s County
Steeplechases, the Scurry Stakes, 1 sovereign each with 20 added.
Distance 2½ miles.
Four horses ran:--
Lord Wm. Beresford’s Fenian Captain Candy.
Mr. Crosby’s Joe Miller Mr. Onion.
Mr. Mole’s Bashful Captain Morgan.
Mr. Corcoranthe’s The Isle Mr. Burnett.
The Fenian won in a canter, Joe Miller second, and The Isle fell.
I have an idea that the Captain Morgan riding Bashful was none other
than the well-known Captain Freddy Morgan, brother of the Lord
Tredegar of Balaclava fame, who, in the great charge, rode a horse
called Mr. Briggs, on which he won a steeplechase before going out
and another on his return, both being among the lucky ones.
I think this was the first year Lord William appeared as a winning
owner. This success was followed very quickly by another on April
27th in the Subalterns’ Cup, presented by Mr. Palairet of the 9th
Lancers, added to a sweepstake of two sovereigns each. Distance two
miles.
Lord Wm. Beresford’s Fenian Captain Candy.
Mr. Herbert’s Mephistopheles Owner.
Mr. Mackenzie’s Black Bess Captain McCalmont.
Mr. Green’s Tommy Nodd Captain Clayton.
Mr. Wheeler’s The Nigger Owner.
The Fenian won by a length, Mr. Herbert’s Mephistopheles second.
An Irish account of this race was very Irish. I give it verbatim:
“Betting 6 to 4 on Mephistopheles, 5 to 4 against Fenian, was a most
curious affair throughout. Mr. Herbert on Mephistopheles was winning
in a canter, but on the end of the enclosure (paddock presumably)
showed a great disposition to bolt, and a great desire to follow the
Nigger, who had been pulled up and was returning home by a short cut
to the enclosure gate. Mephistopheles suddenly stood still next
the palings to follow the Nigger in, and the Fenian came up in time
before Mr. Herbert could get his horse going again, and gained the
verdict, amid much excitement, by a length.”
Judging by the rather curious account Mephistopheles ought to have
won, but refused to play the game, giving the Fenian an opportunity
his rider was not slow to take advantage of. But then it is just
those off-chances that constitute the excitement and uncertainty of
racing.
Lord William did not have a mount at this meeting, and only won the
above race, although several of his horses were entered.
Maid of the Mist carried his colours ridden by Captain Clayton, but
was nowhere in it. Captain Candy won riding his own mare Rosebud.
In another race Captain Clayton rode Lord William’s Cyclops, which
fell. This again was won by Captain Candy on his Park Mount. Maid
of the Mist had another try in the Four-Mile Handicap Steeplechase,
ridden this time by Captain Grissell, but the race was won by
Captain McCalmont on Bicycle. In the Flying Plate, Mr. Herbert rode
Mumbo for Lord William, but Captain Candy won on Strasburg. To put
the finishing touch to a most successful day’s racing for Captain
Candy, he secured under the circumstances the inappropriately named
Consolation Plate with Cracker. That was a “Sugar Candy” day with a
vengeance. Riding in six races he won five, and was second in the
sixth. A record for professional or amateur.
No one was more pleased with his friend’s successes than Lord
William, for they were fast friends, and when Captain Candy married
the sister of his likewise friend and brother officer, Lord Rossmore,
he acted as best man.
It was generally known about this time that the then Prince of Wales
was interested in racing, and had been for some time, but owing
to Queen Victoria’s objection to the Royal colours appearing on a
racecourse, His Royal Highness had been running his horses under
other people’s names. In fact, in 1876 Royal won him the Grand
National in Captain Machell’s name, long before Ambush II was thought
of. His Royal Highness also had a share in Lord “Joe” Aylesford’s
horses. Therefore, when the Prince’s racing colours appeared at the
10th Hussars’ Steeplechases, while they were stationed at Hounslow in
1871, I think, it was a day of great excitement, the Prince being in
the regiment at the time.
There was no public announcement of the meeting, it being a
semi-secret affair held at Down Barn near Southall, within easy reach
of their quarters at Hounslow. Consequently there was no big crowd.
Nevertheless, it was quite an historic meeting; the rows of drags
that lined the course reminded those present of Ascot. The judges
were Prince Edward of Saxe-Weimar, Lord William Beresford, and Lord
Rosebery. The card of the day’s racing contained only five events.
Everyone was anxious to see the Royal colours win the Challenge Cup
for bona-fide hunters; distance about three miles.
The entries for this race were:--
H.R.H. the Prince of Wales’s Champion, b.g. Captain Rivers
Bulkeley.
Lord Valentia’s Wellington, ch.g. Captain Wood.
Hon. P. W. FitzWilliam’s Punkah, b.g. Owner.
Lord Valentia’s Vent Piece, bn.m. Mr. Woods.
Mr. Smith-Dorrien’s Marquis, ro.g. Owner.
Major St. Quinten’s Crusader, b.g. Owner.
The Prince drove down from town with Colonel Kingscote in attendance.
Captain Rivers Bulkeley and that popular old sportsman, Major Chaine,
were the stewards, while Mr. Smith-Dorrien, whose name as a general
is so intimately connected with the War, was the most courteous of
secretaries. The idol of the hour after the Prince was Captain Rivers
Bulkeley, as being the first to wear the famous Royal purple and gold
braided jacket with gold and black cap. He must have felt a very
proud man, but unfortunately like Humpty Dumpty he had a great fall.
At the brook Champion, the Prince’s horse, came to grief, he and the
favourite Vent Piece fell together, the riders remounting, and in at
the finish. Champion managed to regain so much ground that hopes were
raised once more of a Royal victory, but in the last half-mile he
showed distinct signs of having taken too much out of himself at the
brook, so was overtaken by Wellington, who won for Lord Valentia by
ten lengths. Champion second, Punkah third.
It was a great day. I wonder how many good men and true who were
there would be able to answer the roll-call to-day?
There were a number of well-known people there besides the Prince of
Wales: Lord Westmorland (the handsome Frank) and Lady Westmorland,
the Earl of Cork, the Earl of Rosebery, Lord Fitzgerald, Lord
Carrington, Lord Clonmell, Lord Charles Ker, Sir George Wombwell,
Colonel and Mrs. Owen Williams, and many others.
When the 9th Lancers were at Aldershot, a good deal of mild racing
was the order of the day. On one occasion, when Lord William was
tooling his coach on to the course, in his endeavours to avoid
a runaway carriage and pair, behind which sat a screaming and
frightened lady, he managed to upset the coach without seriously
damaging any of the occupants. The late Lord Kinnoull, who was on the
coach, described it to me. He said he never saw anything so splendid
as the way Lord William handled the ribbons. The road was narrow,
on the left was a bank with roughly put up rails on top, while
speeding towards them on the right-hand side of the road was the
runaway carriage. The coachman had lost all control, yet my informant
declared if the clatter of the galloping hoofs and the screaming
lady had not frightened the horses in the coach, all might have been
well. As it was, there was an alarming cracking noise from the wooden
railings on the left, a great lurch, and the coach turned over. After
this it was difficult to say exactly what did happen, except that
there was a general mix up, and the poor lady in her runaway carriage
continued her career down the road. It was characteristic of Lord
William that he was more concerned about the fate of the screaming
lady than with his own predicament.
So far Lord William had only been a winning owner. His first
appearance as a winning rider was across the Long Valley at
Aldershot. I give the race card.
9th LANCERS’ STEEPLECHASE
ALDERSHOT, _April 27th, 1872_
The Subalterns’ Cup, added to a sweepstake of 2 sovereigns
each with 10 added. _Three miles._
Lord Wm. Beresford’s Star-gazer, b.g., 10st. Owner.
Mr. Wheeler’s Frolic, ch.m., 11st. Captain Williams.
Mr. Moore (St. Leger) Portfire, 11st. Owner.
Mr. Butson’s The Finnigan, 11st. Captain Grissell.
Hon. E. P. Willoughby’s Lowthorpe, br.g., 12st. Owner.
Hon. E. P. Willoughby’s Irish Kate, 11st. 7lb. Captain Palairet.
Star-gazer won, which was a creditable performance, being his second
race that day, and taking into consideration that he fell in the
first. The earlier race he had taken part in was the Regimental
Cup, which was won by Captain Willoughby on his good horse Langar.
He won many races for his owner, who always rode him, including a
great point-to-point at York, when the Duke of Clarence was present.
Captain Willoughby was of great repute in the 9th on account of his
performances in the pig-skin as a steeplechase rider and polo player;
also Major McCalmont, a great judge of a horse. He once bought what
he thought a likely looking animal out of a thrashing-machine for
£45, which turned out a brilliant and valuable steeplechaser. The
present-day General, D. M. G. Campbell, was also in the regiment at
that time; he has been wounded twice in the present war, and is still
out there at the time of writing, with what remains of those who were
present at Mons.
It may interest present-day race-goers to know that in ’72 the
“chases” were run at Aldershot the reverse way of the course, though
on the same land as at the present time, finishing at the bottom,
instead of the top of the hill. There was then no Terraced Mount for
the officers and their wives.
Lord William worked hard at this meeting, having seven mounts,
winning one race, and being second in another. Star-gazer does not
sound like a very comfortable mount for “chasing.”
From Aldershot the regiment went to Woolwich, but I know very little
of that time. Polo was in vogue, and some good games were played,
it being then in its youth as far as England was concerned, though
it had been played for centuries in Persia. The Manipuries first
introduced it to the British in 1862, on the Calcutta racecourse.
After this it was taken up by the 11th Bengal Lancers, but it was not
played seriously in England until 1874, when the 5th Lancers became
enthusiastic, after which it became fashionable.
The Manipuries, who love the game, play it in the streets of Upper
Bengal, on scraps of ponies about twelve hands high, playing just
as they feel inclined, with both hands and short mallets. At first
when the game was played by the English, the rules were somewhat
slack; everybody played on what size pony they pleased, crossed and
recrossed each other, besides other curious things.
Now the rules bid for greater safety and greater enjoyment, though I
remember as late as 1883, or thereabouts, at Lucknow, where the 10th
Hussars were then playing, they habitually sent down to the ground a
doolie or two for the removal of the sick and wounded after a game. A
doolie is a sort of hand ambulance, carried by natives. In India the
ground is so hard that if anyone gets a fall it is like coming down
on pavement. It is a mystery to me how the ponies’ legs stand it, and
the 10th played a fast game.
They made a great name for themselves at polo, and when they left
the country their ponies were all put up for sale. People came to
the sale from far and wide, for the ponies naturally carried a
reflected glory from the prowess of their riders. I well remember
the sale. Of course there were some valuable ponies sold which had
made names for themselves, but there were not a few that had done
nothing very great, and their owners were staggered at the big prices
they fetched, simply because they belonged to the 10th, and people
therefore thought they must be good polo ponies.
When one of the officers came to say good-bye to us, he gave a most
amusing account of the bidding and some of the bidders. Speaking of
one of his ponies that I knew very well and used to ride sometimes
in paper-chases, he said: “You know the poor old pony cannot gallop
faster than I can kick my hat.” This was embroidering a little. It
was a handy little beast and had played in many a game of polo,
helping out the stable on occasions though by no means one of the
owner’s best; nevertheless it realized a price that trebled what had
originally been paid for him, and after a couple of years’ work.
[Illustration: 9TH LANCERS’ POLO GROUPS AT WOOLWICH
_Left to right. Standing_: Capt. Clayton, Mr. Palairet, Capt. de la
Garde Grissell, Capt. Fife
_On ground_: Lord William Beresford, Mr. Moore]
During the early days of polo there used to be sad accidents, and
sad rows too sometimes; the amenities were not so refined as they
are to-day, though even at polo I have observed occasionally a soft
answer may turn away wrath.
From Woolwich, Lord William went with his regiment to York, and
to this day the period the 9th Lancers were quartered there is
remembered as a red-letter time, for they were a great social
success. At that time the neighbouring country houses were more often
in the occupation of their owners than they are now, and Yorkshire
could boast of its old-fashioned hospitality and love of sport. I
have heard the north country accused of being boorish and stiff,
but this is a matter of opinion with which I, personally, do not
altogether agree.
An amusing incident happened outside the solemn old club which stands
close to the Lendal Bridge at York. Lord Rossmore went into the club
one evening just in time to see one of the servant girls from the
kitchen regions make her escape from a young man who was evidently
annoying her. She fled down the area steps; Lord Rossmore collared
the youth, and began giving him a lecture of an improving nature.
At this moment, who should come out of the club but Lord William.
He at once scented battle; without having the slightest idea what
it was about, but longing to be in it, he cried, “Let me have him,
Derry. Oh, do let me have him.” “No,” replied the other, jealous of
his capture. “_I found him_; he is my man.” They became so absorbed
in the argument as to who should make the prisoner’s teeth chatter
that the man took the opportunity to make his escape. Looking round
and discovering his loss, Lord Rossmore indignantly reproached his
friend. “Now look what you have done!” he cried; “this is what comes
of trying to steal my man.” Then as the absurdity of the whole thing
struck them, they laughed until their sides ached. After which Lord
William apologised profusely for having spoilt “Derry’s” sport, and
losing his man.
It was on that same Lendal Bridge, on another occasion, that Lord
William and the late Mr. Joseph Leeman, M.P., as a matter of detached
interest spent an hour one night, or rather early one morning,
struggling desperately to see which could put the other over the high
balustrade of the bridge into the river below. Each in turn would
get the other up to within an inch or two of the top preparatory to
a bath in the Ouse, which always looks particularly uninviting just
there. Lord William made one splendid effort regardless of popping
buttons and bursting braces to get Mr. Leeman up, and thought at last
he had accomplished it, but down he came with a rush. A wrestle then
ensued all across the road, each trying to get hold of the other in
just the right position; the game then began again, this time Lord
William being perilously near the top. At last, quite exhausted, they
adjourned to Mr. Leeman’s rooms at the Station Hotel, and finished
the night (?) there--of course, the best of friends the whole time.
There is another York story, though I cannot vouch for its accuracy;
I only tell it as it was told to me. A certain youth joined the
regiment who, it was considered, wanted teaching a thing or two,
and who at that time they did not like. His clothes did not please
them, his face did not please them, in fact nothing about him pleased
them. So, while he was out of his room one evening, they, with much
difficulty and the help of many people, persuaded a lover of thistles
to walk upstairs into his bedroom, where it was put to bed. A large
cock with a strong voice was also thrust, protesting, into the
dirty-clothes-basket, where it presently fell into a brooding silence
of despair. When the unfortunate owner of the room returned he had
many exhausting moments with the donkey before he successfully turned
it out of the room and could go to bed. At dawn he was awakened from
a refreshing sleep by the clarion notes of the cock issuing from the
clothes-basket, and he began to wonder if the claret of the night
before had disagreed with him, or if it was all a horrid nightmare.
This story may, or may not be true, but I knew the youth in question,
and that he was not popular then. It is pleasant to be able to
remember that, some years later, when he died of consumption, his
sterling good qualities and unfeigned good nature had made him so
much liked that his loss aroused universal sorrow in the regiment.
In ’74 the regiment moved from York to Colchester, where Lord William
seemed to get a great deal of leave, part of which he spent helping
his brother, Lord Charles, who was standing for Waterford in the
Conservative interest at the request of his eldest brother. They
had great fun together, but this has been described in Lord Charles
Beresford’s own book.
It was in this same year that the memorable brothers’ race was run
at Curraghmore on the Williamstown course. The race is a matter of
history now, but I have seen quite lately a controversy about it in
the sporting Press, some declaring that Lord Waterford took part in
it, others that he did not. Only three took part in the race: Lord
Charles, Lord William, and Lord Marcus. Again, there are folk who
think it was all arranged beforehand who was to win. Wrong again.
Nothing was further from the minds of any of the trio; each meant to
win, and each thought he would. The race was run at the Curraghmore
Hunt meeting. Three miles. The brothers had a private sweep of 100
sovereigns each.
Anyone not knowing the sport-loving proclivities of the Irish cannot
picture the excitement there was in the country over this event. Even
the peasant women who knew nothing about racing but something about
men, bet on their fancy, some for the one with the curly hair, others
for the brave blue eyes, and so on.
Each of the brothers had to ride 12 stone and be on his own horse.
The Beresford Blue was worn by them all. Lord Charles, being the
eldest, donned the black cap, which sounds rather as if he were
condemning someone to death; the others wore white and blue caps
respectively to distinguish between them.
[Illustration: THE FAMOUS BERESFORD BROTHERS’ RACE
(1) LORD WILLIAM; (2) LORD MARCUS; (3) LORD CHARLES]
Lord Charles thought he had a winner in the black thoroughbred he
brought over from England for the race, named Night Walker, which had
been bred by a man named Power, the sporting tenant of the course.
Lord William rode his grey mare Woodlark, and Lord Marcus a bay
gelding, The Weasel. I like to picture these affectionate, sporting
brothers jogging off to the starting-post, all eager and happy.
They got away well without delay, and at a cracking pace. Riding
boot to boot, charging each fence side by side until near the
winning-post, all riding straight and square like the sportsmen
they were. Soon the buzz of voices ceased, and a tense silence
made itself felt, for the last fence was being neared, and still
all were abreast, but now it became apparent that Night Walker had
done enough. The struggle then remained between the Weasel and the
Woodlark, the latter winning by a short head, so the crowd had some
excitement in return for their long journeys and, in many cases, the
night spent on the course to secure a good place.
Lord Charles thought his horse got a chill coming over on the boat,
and was therefore not up to his best form. Lord Marcus remarked that
while each fancied himself enormously he enthusiastically eulogised
the other. The photograph of the race here reproduced is taken from
the picture hanging at Curraghmore, Lady Waterford kindly having had
it taken for me to use in this book. Other races were ridden in that
day by the brothers, but not as winners. The tall hat and pink coat
worn by Lord William in one of these races inaugurated, I believe,
the now common custom of riding in pink at hunt meetings.
The Beresfords all seem to have the whisper understood by horses and
dogs, for they have been able to make them do some wonderful things.
Lord William’s uncle once jumped a hunter over a dining-room table
at Melton one night for a bet. Lord Charles, in his book, tells the
characteristic story of his having led a queer-tempered thoroughbred
from the road in Eaton Square into the house, along a passage, round
the dining-room table, and out again, without disaster. The only sign
of rebellion or annoyance on the part of the horse was to kick at the
fire in passing just by way of salutation, and to show there was no
ill feeling. This enterprise, of course, Beresford like, was for a
bet.
At many gymkhanas I have seen Lord William do extraordinary tricks
and feats of horsemanship, but of that later.
To return to Colchester, “the brothers’” race being over. On July
25th of that year, the 9th sent a polo team to Hurlingham, where they
played against the Blues. In the second contest, Lord William made
the first goal for the regiment, and again in the third. The Lancers
won. The Prince and Princess of Wales were present, and were much
interested in the game.
On September 10th a “Horse Fête and Polo Match” took place between
the 9th Lancers and 7th Hussars. The 9th won, eight goals in
succession, the handsome cup presented by the Borough consequently
falling to them. One of the goals was won by Lord William.
Monday, October 10th, saw the ponies at Tattersall’s, the regiment
being under orders for India. Among those of Lord William’s, Madge
fetched 62 guineas, Toothpick 36 guineas, The Wren 42 guineas, The
Gem 60 guineas, Little Wonder 50 guineas, Madame Angot 20 guineas.
Very different to the prices such ponies would command to-day. Before
leaving the old country a dinner was given to the regiment by its
former officers to wish them luck and au revoir.
CHAPTER III
JOINS VICEROY’S STAFF
What he Might Have Been--A Happy Exile--Lumtiddy Hall--Unsuccessful
Journey to Pay Calls--Appointed to Staff of Retiring Viceroy--First
Summer at Simla--Appointed A.D.C. to Lord Lytton--Annandale
Racecourse--Birth of _The Asian_--Dinner to Its Sporting
Owner--Winner of Viceroy’s Cup--Delhi Durbar, 1887--Mighty
Preparations--A Terrible Accident
It is easy to imagine with what mingled feelings Lord William left
England: relief at being freed from the money difficulties that
oppress a young man in a swagger regiment in this expensive old
country; affectionate regret for the splendid days that were done;
the happy family gatherings, before all were scattered; still
cherishing some of the ideals of youth to which there is always a
sacredness attached. Children usually build mental universes round
themselves, and at the age of twenty-eight hope has not died in the
heart; that child of happiness still keeps it warm. Lord William,
not being one of those who wear their heart on their sleeve, was of
the merriest on board ship, full of courage and good resolutions,
determined to map out his future on safer grounds than hitherto.
I have often heard it remarked that Lord William might have gained
and filled almost any great position in life that he chose, owing to
his talents, perseverance, and charm of manner, if it had not been
that he was obsessed by his passion for racing and horse-flesh. It
is said “he might have been a great soldier”; my reply is, _he was_.
Again: “He might have been a great statesman.” I reply, that in a
measure he was. To be the right-hand man of and Military Secretary
to three successive Viceroys, and a capable A.D.C. to three,
speaks for itself. What more could he desire, unless it was to be
Viceroy? which would not have appealed to him in the least. Some
of his friends have said they regretted his not having entered the
Diplomatic Service, which shows how little they understood him, for
nothing could have been less attractive to him, or more foreign to
his nature, than a life of trying to make black look white; though an
adept at bamboozling people for their own advantage, and smoothing
rough corners for their happiness, to bamboozle them to their
detriment, and smile with the face of a truthful prophet while so
doing, would have been impossible to him; also he was much too loyal
for that profession, who proverbially, as a class, are not given to
standing by one another. Any question that he had to decide he would
gladly have done with his fists, or sword, but not by parliamentary
inexactitudes. Besides, who among those who knew him would have liked
to see him any different from what he was?
India appealed to Lord William, he liked it from the first. Perhaps
he, more than some, felt the loneliness inseparable from landing
in a strange country for the first time, with a career to make out
of nothing; far from the help and glamour of home associations,
feeling rather like goods on a market stall, from which the ticket
describing their merit and value has fallen, leaving the said goods
to prove their own merit, and so create their own price.
Starting a life in any new country, individuals are only a number
to begin with. Yet India is one of the kindest to strangers, there
is something in the atmosphere that melts the Northern “stand-off”
attitude. All are exiles, which forms a bond of sympathy, uniting
them into one big family, so to speak. It is good for all to
find their own level; travelling assists them, gives them a new
education. There is much to be learned in a large mixed cosmopolitan
concentration, where princes, rajahs, judges, generals, police,
subalterns who know everything, old men who believe nothing,
middle-aged men who suspect everything, all rub shoulders, look well
groomed and comfortable, yet all with the same longing for home in
their hearts.
At Bombay, Lord William met his brother, Lord Charles, then in
attendance on the Prince of Wales; this meeting was a great pleasure
and took the chill off the landing.
Sialkôte is a pleasant station, more shady than many, boasting fine
trees and a certain amount of vegetation. A charming bungalow was
secured and shared by Captain Clayton and Lord William. These stable
companions were greatly attached to one another; the former had a
good influence over his wild-spirited friend, who quite recognised
and appreciated the fact.
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD AND CAPTAIN CLAYTON]
The bungalow was christened “Lumtiddy Hall.” In the photograph the
tenants are seen sitting in the verandah, the servants standing
outside. I do not know why people always collect their servants
and stand them round the front door in India when having photographs
taken. It is not the habit at home. I think it must be with a view
to introducing the drapery and surroundings of our new lives to our
relations elsewhere to whom we send the pictures, more than anything
else. At any rate everyone does it, and the native servants like it;
indeed now I come to think of it, I am not sure that it is not an
arrangement of their own.
Some of the things I shall have to touch on will not be new, I dare
say, to readers familiar with India, but there are other friends
of Lord William’s to whom the customs and etiquettes are unknown;
they may like to have some idea of his life, duties, pleasures and
general surroundings, also the way he fulfilled his obligations.
Among the latter I must not forget to mention the dutiful way he and
his brother officer, Mr. Charles Lascelles, started paying calls
after the fashion of the country. Armed with an alarmingly long list,
they rode out determinedly from the mess on their ponies. The first
bungalow they came to, where they intended to pay their respects,
had straw laid down along the road and up to the door. Lord William
pulled up, frowning wisely: “We had better call here another day,” he
announced, after deep thought. “Why?” asked Mr. Lascelles innocently.
“My dear fellow! don’t you see all this straw down? Someone must be
ill; having a baby or something most likely,” replied the sage.
Horrified at the thought, and impressed by his friend’s knowledge and
insight, Mr. Lascelles agreed fervently, and they rode on to the
next bungalow. Here again they found straw laid down.
“Surely they can’t all be doing the same thing at once, can they?”
said the astonished Mr. Lascelles.
“You can never be sure what they do out here,” replied the other. “In
any case you can’t be too careful.” So they rode on.
To their amazement they found straw at each bungalow, so they
returned to the mess to announce the discreet reasons for their
failure. The mess was delighted, and it was not till some time after
that the two were informed that the straw was there to prevent the
prevailing dust from entering the bungalows.
New-comers in India find the rules appertaining to paying calls
at times amusing. The first thing that appears strange is the
conventional calling hours, being among the hottest in the day, when
quite possibly the people being called on are trying to keep cool
by lying in baths or under punkahs. A clatter of hoofs is heard,
followed by a voice shouting, “Qui Hie!” which means “Somebody.”
There ought to be a servant or two sitting on the verandah, but at
times they are not to be found, their beloved hubble-bubbles having
enticed them away. So the callers continue riding round the house
shouting for “Somebody” plaintively until “Somebody” is found, and
a few well-chosen words addressed to him in the visitor’s best
Hindustani. Calling out there is altogether an unconventional art.
[Illustration: “LUMTIDDY HALL”]
I remember once at Sitapur, where all the officers of a newly arrived
battery of artillery dutifully called on us, with exception of
a Mr. Ross, who happened to be a particular friend of my husband,
so that his non-appearance caused us some surprise. At last he came
and apologised for not having been before by saying that he had been
awaiting his turn for the calling suit of clothes. Being youngest,
his turn came last! Poor soul; he was afterwards frozen to death in
the Afghan War. Found dead, still sitting erect on his horse.
To return to Lord William; India was not long in finding out that a
good sportsman and a judge of racing had arrived in its midst. Before
many weeks had passed he had made himself felt, and was to be seen
officiating as judge at some pony races. His first appearance in the
pig-skin was in October of the same year (1875), when he rode a raw,
hard-mouthed horse named Clarion for a friend in the Grand Military
Chase, having amongst his opponents that well-known splendid horseman
Frank Johnson, who won on a horse called Ring, Clarion being third.
After this he continued to ride a number of mounts for friends and
acquaintances.
It was about this time that Lord William was appointed A.D.C. on
the staff of the retiring Viceroy, Lord Northbrook, who was being
succeeded by Lord Lytton, one of Disraeli’s appointments. While
learning his new duties at Calcutta, Lord William did a little
racing, winning the Corinthian Purse on a black Waler called
Dandynong, for his friend Captain Davidson, the Prince of Wales being
present at the time. It did not take him long to master the duties of
an A.D.C. or to become popular, for he really commenced a new era in
the social life of India. Things began to hum, and everyone began to
enjoy the races, dances, picnics and paper-chases he inaugurated. He
was soon surrounded with friends.
When Lord Lytton took over the Viceroyalty he retained Lord William
as A.D.C. on his staff. In April of that year, Colonel Colley, who
was Military Secretary to the Viceroy, wrote, in a letter to Lady
Lytton: “Lord William Beresford is full of fun and go, and is being
placed in charge of the stables.” So he was already doing the work
and fitting into the corner for which he was so admirably suited.
The summer of ’76 was spent at Simla, his first introduction to the
place where he was to spend so many summers of his life.
In a letter written home at this time, he speaks of being happy with
the Lyttons, and pleasure at having the management of the horses.
[Illustration: 9TH LANCERS’ MESS, SIALKÔTE, 1876]
Lady Lytton, referring to this time, says: “I noted that Lord William
managed the stables admirably, and our coachman Wilson was very
happy under him”; from which it may be inferred that Wilson was a
good servant, or he would not have been happy under Lord William’s
eye, for he was very particular, and would not be content unless
everything was properly turned out and in perfect order. It may
not be generally known that only three people are allowed to have
carriages in Simla, namely, the Viceroy, the Commander-in-Chief
and the Chief Commissioner of the North-West Provinces. The
Viceregal party are often the only ones to avail themselves of this
privilege. The rule sounds a little selfish and high-handed, but
it is explained by the fact that there is only one road where
it is possible to drive, and that one is very circumscribed. The
inhabitants of the station live in houses dotted about the hillside,
approached in many cases by scrambling paths, up which people have
to be carried in janpans (a sort of chair slung on bamboo poles and
carried by four bearers), ride, or in a rickshaw, a sort of bath
chair pulled by native servants.
Carriages are therefore white elephants in the hills; and even for
riding it is necessary to have sure-footed and quiet ponies.
There are so many books dealing with Indian life I feel that it
is rather superfluous to explain that the official residence of
the Government is, during the summer, at Simla, and at Calcutta in
winter. Lord Lawrence, the Viceroy in 1863, first started Simla
as the official summer residence, taking all his assistants and
council with him, the reason that this particular station was chosen
being that it was the only place in the Himalayas, or indeed any
of the Indian mountains, where there was sufficient accommodation
for the followers in his train. It was also easy of access and had
a good road to it, compared with those of the other hill stations.
Of course, like most innovations, it met with a certain amount of
grumbling from those who considered they could have chosen a better
spot, and each successive administrator tried to go one better by
suggesting some other place. Up to now, no other place has been found
more suitable, so it may be taken for granted that Lord Lawrence
made a wise choice. Anything less like a government house, at that
time, than the Viceregal Lodge, rejoicing in the name of Peterhoff,
it would be difficult to imagine, being nothing more or less than a
glorified bungalow, standing on the edge of what in England we should
call a precipice, and in India a hillside or khud, and with very
little ground round it.
Having heard that there was a racecourse, Lord William, in his
first spare moments, went to see it, finding this dignified title
applied to a small, more or less flat piece of ground lying between
two hills, the roads to it being zigzag paths, hollowed out by the
mountain torrents during the winter and monsoon, to which a little
assistance was given by the authorities to make them safe. No
carriage could get there, nevertheless this little spot was a source
of joy and health to many, for here every Saturday races were held,
occasional cricket matches, and other health and pleasure giving
exercises, to which all the inhabitants and visitors thronged. All
the world and his wife used to go, also other people’s wives, for
there are always any number of grace widows in the hill stations,
whose husbands are unable to get leave to accompany them, or at any
rate only for a short time. Annandale was the name of this little
basin where the races were run at that time. I was introduced to it
a few years later, and thought its primitiveness added to its charm.
There was no such a thing as a grand stand, or even an un-grand one.
People sat about on the hillside to watch the racing. There was a
small shed, if I remember rightly, where Reigning Royalty could
shelter, should the necessity arise, which formed a sort of holy of
holies where they could carry out the exclusiveness necessary to
their position, so odious and trying to many of them.
Now there is a gorgeous thing in pavilions, as will be seen by the
photograph, but I do not feel any ambition to go there, liking the
memory of Annandale as it was in earlier times too well to have any
desires for buildings comfortable or otherwise, in that historic
little corner. After a race meeting there was a general scramble up
the hillside again to dress for dinner and the evening’s amusements,
of which there were plenty; Lord William took care of that;
theatricals, dances, concerts, Christy Minstrel performances, and at
times quite classic and dignified oratorios, besides endless private
parties and social gatherings.
Government House has to fulfil its obligations, and give a certain
number of dances and parties, so has the Commander-in-Chief and the
Governor of the North-West Provinces, this being one of the things
they are out there for. Some live up to the letter of the law, so
to speak, others are full of hospitality and private enterprise,
especially those with young people of their own out there with them.
On August 6th there were great rejoicings, a son being born to Lord
Lytton, who was away in the hills at the time in connection with
his work. Lady Lytton, in a letter speaking of the many kindnesses
of their A.D.C., says: “Lord William rode twenty-six miles to Fagoo
with letters (to Lord Lytton), and brought me back the answers
and congratulations the same evening,” which is just the kindly
sympathetic thing he would do.
The work and responsibility attached to the life of a Viceroy
is great and anxious. It is well that he should have sympathetic
workers under him who will relieve him, as much as possible, of all
unnecessary worries and anxieties. Lord William felt this keenly, and
all the Viceroys he served under expressed their gratitude for his
never-failing thoughtfulness and unselfish devotion.
When it is realised that this one man, with his handful of
councillors, keeps in touch with 207,000,000 Brahmins, 9,000,000
Buddhists, 62,000,000 Mohammedans, 2,000,000 Sikhs, 1,300,000
Janns, 94,000 Zoroastrians (Parsees) and 8,000 Jews, not counting
the 8,000,000 of the aboriginal tribes whose religion I do not
know, considers all their grievances, studies carefully all their
superstitions and traditional etiquettes, managing to keep all more
or less happy, it seems a superhuman task.
That such comparative contentment reigns is eloquent of the amount of
thought and care devoted to the smallest detail of government. Lord
Lytton came to the country knowing little of it or its people, but
quickly made a study of both, and was deeply interested.
It has always struck me that Lord Lytton’s way of expressing himself
was exceptionally charming. His letters home, and to the Queen during
anxious times, are delightful to read. Lord William described him as
a most considerate Chief, and regretted that he was not stronger,
as he was so keen, and worked so hard, that he exhausted himself.
The years of the Lytton administration were full of anxious and busy
times.
In October, Lord William found time to ride a race or two at Dehra,
winning one, thanks to good judgment and riding, on Red Eagle for a
friend, also the Doon Chase on Commodore for Captain Maunsell.
A little later, at Umballa, he rode for Mr. George Thomas, and won a
hurdle race on Fireman. On returning to Calcutta from Simla he was
elected a steward of the Calcutta races, having already joined the
Turf Club. Among the other stewards for the year were Lord Ulick
Browne, the Hon. W. F. McDonnell, and Captain Ben Roberts.
It is a matter of regret that in the early years of Lord William’s
sojourn in India, there was practically no sporting paper to
chronicle his many endeavours and triumphs; the only thing of the
kind being a rather superannuated _Oriental Sporting Magazine_,
which was more or less in a moribund condition, although run by good
sportsmen, some of whom were, perhaps, growing a little out of touch
with the views of the rising generation. It was not until 1878 that
_The Asian_ was started as a sporting venture, by an energetic person
called Mr. William Targett, who, though he knew nothing about horses,
felt that he was filling a long-standing want, which the success of
his paper proved to have been a correct and business-like surmise.
The paper may still be doing useful work for all I know, although it
has lost its original and popular proprietor, whom Lord William liked
so well. While speaking of _The Asian_ and Mr. Targett I think the
following little story is interesting.
Mr. Targett was at home in 1894 on one of the holidays he allowed
himself every three years. The time was drawing near for his return
to India, so some of his oldest friends in this country convened a
little “au revoir” banquet at the Victoria Club in Wellington Street.
Fully a hundred sat down, all good sportsmen hail-fellow-well-met.
Mr. Targett was evidently much pleased at the kindly feeling that
had prompted his friends to give him this send-off. All were in
their places except the intended president. Suddenly the door flew
open and the voice of the arranger of this merry meeting announced:
“Gentlemen, allow me to introduce your chairman, Lord William
Beresford.” Many present knew he was in England, but few that he
was in London, therefore little did they expect his presence. This
surprise was arranged between Lord William and Mr. Meyrick (the
well-known writer of “Sporting Notes” in the _Sporting Times_) with a
view to giving the proprietor of _The Asian_ pleasure.
Mr. William Targett was delighted, and grasped his lordship’s hand,
saying: “What, you here, Bill!” The quick reply came: “Yes, Bill; I’m
here and so pleased at the invitation!” Wherever Lord William was,
there it was lively, and this feast lasted three good hours, until he
was obliged to keep what he referred to as an “austere appointment,”
but at the end of his response to the toast of his health he took
the whole room into his confidence with the concluding sentence:
“Gentlemen, while you are thinking about your Christmas dinner,
Targett and myself, with good luck, hope to be on the Calcutta
racecourse; and I must tell you that this week I have, I think,
purchased the winner of the Viceroy Cup--Metallic--for my old friend
Orr-Ewing. Good night and good luck to you all.”
One jubilant and well-known Umballian present shouted: “I am betting
on the Viceroy’s Cup. Who wants to back his lordship’s tip?” He
quickly found customers. The recounter of this story to me added that
he risked a little bit, and was pleased to find on the following
Christmas week that Metallic had won, and he therefore the better off
by a “tenner.” It was kind of Lord William to find time to give his
little Calcutta friend this pleasant surprise, considering that every
one of his own friends and relations were clamouring for his time.
But to return to 1876 in the East. At the close of the year, all
official India, and a great deal of the unofficial, gathered at Delhi
for the Proclamation of the Queen as Empress of India on January 1st,
1877. This entailed unceasing work on the Vice-regal staff, and all
Government officials, both civil and military. The assemblage was to
last fourteen days, and the heads of every departmental government in
India were to be present, besides 14,000 troops, seventy-seven ruling
princes and chiefs, and 68,000 people were invited and actually
stayed in or around Delhi.
Only those who have been in the vicinity of, or engaged in, the
preparations for any big gathering in India can imagine for a
moment the amount of galloping and fuss, the thraldom of official
red tape and etiquette to be punctiliously observed, the number of
contradictory orders, the hurt feelings and notes of explanation that
are flying about; most of this galloping, between head-quarters and
heads of departments, being carried out by the A.D.C.’s.
At last everything was growing shipshape, and people left off saying,
“I told you so,” even began to smile furtively once more, for all
was in readiness. The Rajahs’ gardens were laid out elaborately
round their different tents and camps, each vying with the other
to have the best and most attractive display. The elephants had
arrived and were amiable and docile. The Rajahs’ horses in readiness,
with magenta tails and gorgeous trappings. The jewels laid out and
counted. Everything, in fact, ready for the great day. Therefore
a little relaxation was considered consistent with good form on
the part of the staff and officers in waiting for the great event,
consequently a game of polo was arranged for Christmas Day.
This chance game, a thing born of a few spare hours in the midst of
the pomp and glitter of Eastern rejoicing, was destined to prove the
blackest sorrow of Lord William’s life. Captain Clayton had become
to Lord William, what is perhaps the most irreplaceable thing in the
world, his best friend, and during this game their ponies cannoned
into one another. Captain Clayton’s fell; its rider was picked up
unconscious, and died the same night.
[Illustration: THE DELHI DURBAR, 1877]
Poor Lord William was wild with grief, and Captain De la Garde
Grissell, an old friend and brother officer of his, who was in the
camp with the 11th Hussars, was sent for to the Viceroy’s camp to
stay with Lord William during the night. Captain Eustace Vesey and
Captain Charles Muir sat up with Captain Clayton until he died at
midnight. Captain Grissell tells me that they were so anxious
that none should do anything for their dear friend but those who
had known and cared for him, that he and Captain Vesey made all
the arrangements--in India everything has to be carried out so
swiftly. There was no undertaker, so a soldier made the coffin and
Captain Grissell himself screwed down the lid, both he and Captain
Vesey being greatly overcome. The funeral was next day, and a most
impressive sight, all the troops at the Durbar taking part. A
military funeral is at all times impressive, indeed harrowing, to
those who mourn the loss of one who has shared their lives, but it
becomes doubly so when the circumstances have been so tragic. He was
buried in the graveyard behind the ridge held so long by us during
the Mutiny, and he lies with the 9th Lancers who fell at that time
and are buried close by.
All the rest of the time Lord William was in India he used to go away
by himself on the anniversary of that terrible accident and visit his
friend’s grave. So great had the grief been to him that he always
felt that he must be alone on that day; alone with his grief and the
spirit of his old friend. He did not want to speak; not because there
is anything in life too sacred to say or tell, but much too sacred to
parody. But the world and all its shows will not stand still for us
while we grieve, and Lord William with his good pluck struggled to
perform his duties at the Durbar, working so hard that he only had
time for a couple of hours’ sleep out of the twenty-four. The strain
was too much for him, and he fainted while sitting on his horse and
had to be carried away.
His heart and courage were always too big for his body and strength.
Captain Clayton had been his life-long friend, and what made him feel
it even more, was the thought that through his pal’s death he had
gained his troop.
The actual Durbar appears to have been a success, and the Maharajahs
and Princes were so pleased that they each wished to present a
bejewelled crown to the Empress Queen, but Lord Lytton, with some of
his well-chosen phrases, expressed appreciation, and explained that
it would not be expedient, for in the first place the Queen would
have a crown for nearly every day in the year, and secondly, it
might lead to jealousy and heart bitterness, better avoided, which
explanation appeared to be conclusive and void of offence.
On Friday, January 6th, Lord Lytton held a review of all the troops,
preceded by a march past of those attached to the native Princes in
Delhi.
At this time Lord William was still hard at work studying the
etiquettes, ritual, superstitions, religions, and dignified
ceremonials so dear to the heart of Orientals, who are all great
observers of ceremony. The study fascinated him, and proved of great
use later in assisting those he worked for; knowing what to avoid
and where to give pleasure. No one can hope to fill any responsible
position in India who has not studied and had long education in these
matters, and this was so quickly grasped by Lord William, that to the
end of his days the Rajahs were among his most faithful friends and
admirers.
By January 15th the Viceroy was back in Calcutta, and Lord
William riding in races again. He had one of his bad falls in a
steeplechase, hurting his nose considerably, besides receiving other
injuries. As usual he tried to make light of them, but collapsed and
had to be carried home.
Before closing this chapter it will be interesting both to Captain
Clayton’s and Lord William’s friends who may not already be
acquainted with the fact to know that there is a marble tablet in the
church at Curraghmore, placed there by the fifth Marquis of Waterford:
In affectionate remembrance of
William Clayton Clayton,
Captain, 9th Lancers.
For many years the dearest friend of the House of
Curraghmore.
Born April 23rd, 1839. Killed while playing polo
at Delhi, Christmas Day, 1876.
Another instance of the respect and affection with which Captain
Clayton was regarded at Harrow-on-the-Hill, where he was educated.
There is a white marble cross in the churchyard, the inscription on
the base being:--
In loving memory of
William Clayton Clayton,
Captain, 9th Queen’s Own Royal Lancers.
Born April 23rd, 1839.
Killed while playing polo at Delhi, India, Dec., 1876.
Oh, the merry laughing comrade,
Oh, the true and kindly friend,
Growing hopes and lofty courage,
Love and life and this the end!
He the young and strong who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the March of Life.
So great was the feeling of loss at his death that old friends,
Harrovians, soldiers, and indeed those of all classes who knew him,
wished to do something to perpetuate his name, and decided to found
a scholarship. Subscriptions flowed in, and in 1881 the Clayton
Scholarship was founded, valued £40 a year, tenable for three years
at Harrow School.
Lasting affection of this kind is not inspired by any but good men,
and speaks better for the character of the individual than any words
of mine, for words are poor impotent things. England, prolific though
she be in men of courage and manliness, can ill spare one of her sons
when of the nature of Captain Clayton, whose influence was everywhere
for good.
CHAPTER IV
HE WINS THE V.C.
Hero of Khartoum’s Fame and Tragedy, as Private Secretary--Indian
Famine--Lord William and the Jowakis--A Month’s Holiday
in Afghanistan--Back in Calcutta--Barrackpore Monument
to Lady Canning--Lady Waterford as Artiste--Cawnpore
Memorial--Racing--Trouble in South Africa--A Favour Granted--Off
to the War--A Friend Left in Charge of Affairs--Some Fights for
Queen and Country--Some Fights for Private Reasons--Exciting
Moments--Irish Bravery of Man and Beast--Two V.C.’s at
Dinner--Receives Reward at Hands of the Queen-Empress--A Shower
Bath in Dublin--Some Racing and a Row--A Thrice-run Race--Miller
Addresses Lord William
It is not possible to give a correct idea of Lord William’s life in
India without briefly mentioning the chief measures proposed and
carried out during the different Viceroys’ administrations.
He, of course, made it a point of honour never to criticise or
express any opinion on the policy or private lives of those he worked
for, but being so intimately connected with the Viceregal Court,
both in his official capacity and as a valued friend, all movements,
military or civil, naturally entailed work for him, and it must be
borne in mind that he not only did what his calling demanded, but
at all times laid himself out to be useful to his masters and their
belongings.
It is worth pausing for a moment to reflect on the life of an Indian
Viceroy; we shall then be able to realise what it must have been to
them to have a man like Lord William, with his loyalty, ability, and
never-failing sympathy and cheerfulness always at their command.
No doubt it is a great honour to be asked to represent the King in
India, and a much coveted position, but when we look back at the men
who have held this high office, it seems that nothing but patriotism,
of the highest order, can have persuaded them to leave their own
beautiful and stately homes, where they were their own masters, could
live in peace with all they loved around them, and where they could
mix freely with their neighbours, for the splendid isolation of the
Viceregal throne; not having been trained, as Royalty are, to be
approached only through mediums, having to sit upon a pedestal from
which they must not descend, no matter what their inclinations, and
up which none may climb to greet them, is paying a huge price for the
honour. They must often feel very lonely, some I know do, and very
homesick.
The choice of the staff is naturally a matter of great importance,
and a Viceroy usually selects people with whom he can unbend and
associate without infringing precedents and necessarily established
laws and customs. Not every man makes a good A.D.C.; it is of no use
their having views of their own; they are there to do as they are
told. Their duties are not very arduous, unless they like to make
them so by doing all sorts of kind and thoughtful things not marked
on the day’s programme. How unsuited some are for the appointments
they hold, was proved by Captain Gordon (later of Khartoum fame and
tragedy), who came out from home as Lord Ripon’s private secretary.
By the time he had been in the country a few weeks he resigned, as he
could not countenance His Excellency’s policy, and expressed his own
views somewhat bluntly, which was disconcerting to everybody in turn.
After this little digression we must return to the time after the
Delhi Durbar, when famine was casting a heavy shadow over the land,
and Lord Lytton decided he would go and see for himself the extent of
the misery and distress; no light undertaking, as it entailed much
travelling to visit all the different parts, chiefly in the Madras
Presidency, the district that had suffered from the same cause in
1853 and 1854. The affected area covered 2,000,000 square miles,
where food was wanted for thirty-six million people.
Unfortunately Lord William was not able to accompany His Excellency,
owing to his latest racing accident, from which he had not
sufficiently recovered. This was a great disappointment to him, for
he may have been happy-go-lucky and devil-me-care in his own private
life, but there was nothing approaching it in his official capacity,
where he was always keen and full of enthusiasm.
Lord Lytton had arrived in India knowing nothing of it “except its
myths,” but was hard at work learning more, being somewhat puzzled
but greatly interested. Amongst other matters, such as famine
and irrigation, there was the ever-troublesome question of our
geographical boundaries amongst the Afghan mountains, requiring close
study and attention. It would be pleasant to follow the work done
on this tour and its far-reaching results, but it has no place here
except as far as Lord William was connected with it, so I pass on,
simply stating that after a long and careful study of the famine
question, Lord Lytton satisfied himself that periodical famines must
be expected, and provision must be made for such distressful times
during the country’s prosperity. He appointed a famine commission to
enquire into it and report thereon, as to means of irrigation and any
other measures possible to adopt. This report was issued in 1880, the
year of Lord Lytton’s return to England, and was the foundation of
the latter-day system of irrigation, developments of communication,
and famine insurance, the benefits of these measures to be reaped by
his successors.
In September of the same year (1877) His Excellency returned to
Simla. In October Lord William had collected a few promising horses
and began entering them under his own name. His colours were carried
at the Dehra October Meeting by Oliver Twist, Lucifer, and Firetail.
Lucifer was a country-bred, on which Captain Chisholme of Lord
William’s regiment won two races for him. A little later, at Umballa,
he had a good time, Oliver Twist bringing in the shekels by winning
the Drawing-room Stakes, ridden by T. Tingey, the chief professional
jockey in India at that time. Lord William rode in all the “chases”
at the meeting, but scored no wins. He had a fall in the Grand Stand
Plate, but was not much the worse, so remounted and rode in another
race the same afternoon. The betting and plunging at this meeting
amounted to a scandal, especially as many of the losers were more or
less penniless. The settling naturally took a long time; indeed, I
have heard that some of the winners never got their money at all.
This meeting was the beginning of the break up of a very well-known
figure in those days, Captain Frank Johnson, one of the handsomest of
men, he being one of the heaviest losers.
Lord William’s attention was now turned towards Jowaki, where the
Frontier tribes were growing aggressive, and it became necessary to
send troops to straighten matters out a little, and he had great
hopes of being allowed to accompany them. Lord Lytton complained to
the authorities at home that it was somewhat difficult for him, when
so little was known of what we called our frontier, as there were no
maps to show where our territory really began or ended.
The hill tribes are always rather a problem. All are muscular
and warlike, but many of them acknowledge little tribal control
or responsibility, which makes it difficult to know whom to deal
with. Their chiefs have no control over them, even when they have
chiefs, on which point I am by no means clear. The incessant raids
on Peshawar and the district could not be tolerated, so Lord Lytton
sent troops with instructions to deliver a night surprise, which,
for some reason, did not come off until daylight, thereby losing its
effectiveness and warning the tribes of our intentions, which was
unfortunate. The first stage of this expedition was consequently a
failure. After this little miscarriage of justice and retribution,
General Keyes was sent with more troops to punish the raiders. This
was called the Jowaki Expedition. Lord William begged the Viceroy to
allow him to go with General Keyes. Permission being granted he was
happy, for this was after his own heart. The General’s instructions
were, to cut off the Jowakis from the other tribes, to prevent their
neighbours joining in with them. This was successfully accomplished,
and a good lesson taught, as the Jowakis’ losses were severe and ours
light. After this, there were only about 1500 rebel tribesmen left
to deal with. Finding their strongholds destroyed and most of their
land in our hands, they gave in, and sent to make terms. Lord William
enjoyed himself, as this was his first experience of active service,
for which he received the medal and clasp. After several months of
climbing mountains in pouring rain, and struggling across torrents,
he returned to Simla, where someone asked him the time-honoured
question, “What were your sensations when first under fire?” To which
he replied, “I don’t remember what I felt like under fire, but I do
remember what it felt like under water--dashed unpleasant!”
Under Lord Lytton’s orders the tribal frontiers were thoroughly
surveyed and mapped out, also good roads made in every direction,
after which the Punjab frontier settled down to peace and quietude.
So many years have elapsed since Lord William was in India, indeed
so many since he died, that I am somewhat handicapped by letters and
documents dealing with this, and many other parts of his life, having
been destroyed. So many of his contemporaries have passed away, also
no wife or mother living, with cherished letters and records to help
in these Memories. His brothers, though deeply attached to him,
were of necessity much apart, each following his own profession, and
therefore not in a position to help much about his foreign service.
After the Jowaki Expedition Lord William returned to his duties on
the Viceregal staff, keeping one eye on the Russian influence in
Afghanistan, hoping he might have a chance of more fighting. He was
longing to be back with his regiment, as they were sure to go if
there was any serious trouble, and this there was before long. What
is now known as the second phase of the Afghan War came after the
hasty treaty of Gandamak. The Khyber Pass Force was withdrawn as far
as Lundi Kotal, and Sir Louis Cavagnari, a political officer of some
repute, was sent with an escort to Kabul as resident, Sir Donald
Stewart’s division remaining at Kandahar. As many people expected,
this arrangement did not last long, but they were not prepared for
the terrible thing that happened.
While the whole country was waiting to hear of the safe arrival of
Sir Louis and his escort, news came that he and all with him had
been massacred. Thus began the second phase of the Afghan War. Sir
Frederick Roberts fought his way up to Kabul and remained there,
trying and hanging a number of people, some say wrong ones as well as
right, but it was impossible to help it, and no doubt they all richly
deserved what they got, so it was just as well. The 9th Lancers
were in the thick of the fighting and Colonel Cleland disabled, so
Lord William’s old friend, Colonel Stewart Mackenzie, took command.
They had great difficulty in saving the guns by getting them across
a twelve-foot ditch, the only possible crossing of which had been
blocked by a fallen wheeler and the gun stuck fast. Colonel Stewart
Mackenzie endeavoured to execute a charge, the second during the
day. Meanwhile the officer responsible for the gun gave orders to
unhook and spike it. Colonel Stewart Mackenzie’s horse was shot, and,
falling on him, he was rescued with the greatest difficulty.
[Illustration: XMAS CARD TO AUTHOR]
The accounts of all the deeds of bravery amongst his brother officers
made Lord William long to go and share their dangers and hardships,
for he loved the “Old 9th,” as he called them. At last, unable to
bear it any longer, he asked for a month’s leave. As usual on such
occasions, he was tortured by the fear that it would all be over
before he got there, so he made elaborate arrangements to do the
journey in record time the moment his leave was granted. Booted and
spurred, he paced up and down his rooms until the joyful news that
his leave was granted was brought to him. He jumped on to a waiting
horse and galloped away for Umballa. Fresh ponies were waiting for
him at different stages of the journey, which enabled him to catch
a train that took him to the rail head of the expeditionary force.
Without waiting for food or sleep, he began riding again; here fresh
ponies were in readiness for him, and he arrived among his war-worn
brother officers scarcely less travel-stained than themselves, after
riding day and night for five days, only broken by the train journey.
He was in time to accompany Sir Sam Browne, V.C., up the snow-covered
Khyber Pass, which he regarded as a refreshing holiday. I give a
little sketch sent to me at this time by another friend enjoying
the same holiday, which will give a little idea of its pleasures. The
Sir Sam Browne mentioned above was destined to be immortalised by the
now famous Sam Browne belt. It was the child of the gallant General’s
imagination, and first worn on active service during this campaign.
Whatever its merits have now been proved to be, it was greeted with
contumely and caustic comments by the army, as is customary with all
new inventions, but like the Brodrick cap, it has weathered countless
storms. I remember men used to speak of it with suppressed passion
as “the Christmas tree arrangement.” I do not know why, unless on
account of the things supposed to be hung on it.
Soon after Lord William joined him, Sir Sam Browne decided to storm
the Citadel of Ali Musjid from the right-hand side of a rocky ridge
of some height. General Appleyard at the same time was to lead his
brigade up the left side, along a precipitous path, little more
than a goat track. Between these two brigades was a deep gorge with
rushing water at the bottom. The air was alive with bursting shells
fired from the Citadel. The Afghans were engaged in shelling the
ridge from end to end, which made it, according to Lord William,
“lively.” Shells were even bursting among the advancing columns.
When nearing the Citadel, Sir Sam Browne wished to communicate with
General Appleyard on the opposite ridge. Here was Lord William’s
chance. He at once volunteered, and General Browne accepted his
offer, instructing him to reach General Appleyard as quickly as
possible, but to make a detour of the valley to lessen the risk.
“All right, sir,” replied Lord William, who had no intention of
making a detour at all. Dismounting, he gave his horse to someone to
hold, scrambled down the precipice, and was out of sight in a moment,
hidden by the flying earth and smoke from the bursting shells.
Reaching the bottom safely, he sat down and took off his boots,
partly wading, partly jumping, from rock to rock, arriving safely at
the other side. Here he again sat down and lighted a cigarette before
putting on his boots and scrambling up the hill, where he delivered
his message. He was as calm and collected as when out partridge
shooting, in fact calmer than he was sometimes on those occasions,
but always with the same fire burning in his keen eyes.
By the middle of December, 1878, General Sir Sam Browne’s column was
in occupation of the Musjid, after climbing that stern, sulky-looking
Khyber Pass. Lord William’s leave being up, and feeling how good it
had been of Lord Lytton to let him go, he hurriedly ate his Christmas
dinner with the Headquarters Staff and started on his way back,
meeting with some excitement on the way down, as the Afghan hillmen
potted at him most of the time from their hiding-places in the
mountains.
A month was not long in which to journey to the Khyber Pass, take
part in the storming and capture of Ali Musjid, and then return to
Calcutta, but proves the old saying that “Where there is a will there
is a way.”
Lord William received a medal and clasp and was mentioned in
despatches for his share in this campaign.
I do not think a man less brave because he loves doing daring and
dangerous things. Certainly he appeals to the imagination no less,
though, I suppose, in the last analysis, it is the man who is afraid
in his heart, yet does a brave thing by force of will over body, who
is the most truly brave.
On his return to Calcutta he took up the thread of life where he had
left it, and continued during his lighter moments, racing, dancing
and flirting; for he was a veritable butterfly, fluttering from
flower to flower and sipping honey in the sunshine. And why not?
A little gentle flirtation is good for everyone’s self-respect,
and keeps them young. After all, what are a few little silken
insincerities? What is flirtation? Simply a social accomplishment, a
little mutual sympathy beautifully expressed, and a little repartee.
There are not a few who think it is pleasanter to be in sympathy with
many than in bondage to one.
When at Calcutta Lord William was fond of spending week-ends at
Barrackpore, which is a sort of country residence for the Viceregal
people, standing on the banks of the Hugli, and has lovely gardens
and grounds, with the advantage of being within a few miles of
Calcutta, therefore not much packing up and journeyings required. It
was a place much sought after by honeymoon couples. The Vice-reine
used to lend it to them, and Lord William had the privilege also of
using and lending it when not required by their Excellencies, to
those in search of quietness and peace.
After the big official Government residence at Calcutta, this homy
countrified house was very restful. All felt the moment they arrived
that the official smile might be laid aside for a time and some of
the stiffness out of the spine.
There is an interesting monument at Barrackpore erected to the
memory of Lady Canning, sister of Louisa, Marchioness of Waterford,
wife of the third Marquis, and therefore aunt by marriage of Lord
William. Lady Canning was very beautiful, and like her sister very
good. Her husband, Viscount Canning, succeeded Lord Dalhousie as
Governor-General in 1856, and when she died in Calcutta, November
18th, 1856, from fever caught while sketching in the Terai, was
mourned most sincerely by the community at large, to whom she had
always been sympathetic and kind. At the time of her death Lord
William was fourteen years old. Louisa, Marchioness of Waterford,
shared her sister’s love of art and painting, was indeed an artist
of merit. Mr. Watts considered her one of the greatest real artists
of that time. One of her celebrated pictures hangs at Ford Abbey,
a place which she inherited in Northumberland. The picture is
entitled “The Miracle of Healing the Two Blind Men.” Some of her book
illustrations were also considered by authorities on such matters
as excellent. It was Louisa, Marchioness of Waterford, who designed
the beautiful monument of a guardian angel which stands to-day over
the fateful well at Cawnpore, where the unhappy English people were
thrown in alive during the Mutiny. Anyone visiting that station in
India cannot fail, when driving through that dusty, sun-dried place,
to be deeply impressed by this beautiful white, calm-looking figure,
spelling pity and peace. It is difficult to prevent bitter and
revengeful feelings taking possession of us as we remember all that
happened in that historic place, but after looking at that calm,
peaceful and dignified figure, a certain feeling of “Father, forgive
them, for they know not what they do,” takes the place of revenge. It
is seldom that a monument appeals to us in that way; many are grand,
great works of art and manipulation, but that white angel at Cawnpore
is something more. If my brain had conceived the idea and my hand
designed it, I should be a proud and soul-satisfied woman.
The Beresford stable was now seldom idle even when the owner was
away. In 1879 his horse Telegram was figuring in Calcutta, winning
the Alipore Plate. The same horse got beaten a little later by quite
a slow mare called Blue Bonnet, belonging to Mr. E. T. Roberts, which
was a piece of bad luck, more especially as the cause was the poor
beast’s breaking a blood-vessel, which, however, did not prove a very
serious matter, as he was patched up and fulfilled his obligations
to his owner by winning the Calcutta Cup on the second day of the
meeting.
At Dacca, which is about 150 miles from Calcutta, Lord William won
at this time a steeplechase with (I believe) Telegram, and it was
rumoured that for some unaccountable reason the Dacca steamer was
delayed for a day, instead of starting at the advertised time, which
was very convenient for Telegram, as it allowed him to be at Dacca
in time for the meeting, which would otherwise have been impossible.
Everybody wondered how such an unheard-of thing could have happened.
I wonder if Lord William could explain?
It was in the January of 1879 that the Viceroy’s anxieties were
increased by war breaking out in South Africa. In case any of my
younger readers do not know, or have forgotten, about this war, I had
better recall the immediate cause leading up to it.
In 1879 Sir Theophilus Shepstone had annexed the Transvaal. Sir
Bartle Frere, as High Commissioner, explained to the Zulu King,
Cetewayo, that there must be no more arguing about a certain strip
of land claimed both by him and the Transvaal Republic, and to avoid
further trouble he had better disband his army. This demand, stated
as bare, undiluted fact and shorn of parliamentary terminology,
sounds rather high-handed, but anybody interested in the history can
read the matter up and form his then more mature opinion, as there
were other matters of importance attached to the situation without
which it would not be possible to form a fair judgment. At any rate
Cetewayo, seeing “no sense in it,” as an old retainer of ours used to
say when requested to do anything he did not like, began the row by
totally defeating the British troops at Isandhlwana on January 22nd,
1879, which was not a good beginning for us, and we felt rather small.
The horrors of that time must be still fresh in the memories of all
persons alive now, who were old enough to read and think in 1879.
Lord Chelmsford, who was in command, was greatly blamed for his plan
of campaign, but he afterwards retrieved his mistakes to some extent
by defeating the Zulus at the battle of Ulundi and taking Cetewayo
prisoner. That, however, was poor comfort to those whose dear ones
had been sacrificed to his mistakes, that is to say if the disaster
was attributable to his errors, which I am not competent to judge.
It was at this battle of Ulundi that Lord William so distinguished
himself and won the name of “Fighting Bill,” appearing in _Vanity
Fair_ in September the same year under that title, though I cannot
congratulate “Spy” on the production, for he represents Lord Bill as
a “beery”-looking person, which is the last thing he ever looked in
life, but in the picture it will be noticed more than any other of
his pictures or photos the resemblance in the eyes and upper part of
his face to his uncle, the third Marquis.
Hearing of the unfortunate reverse at Isandhlwana, Lord William was
“just mad,” to use his own words, to go and fight in South Africa,
and the kind, indulgent Lord Lytton again allowed him to go, this
making the third time he had been permitted to leave his work on
the staff to which he had been appointed. Doubtless His Excellency
admired the spirit which prompted Lord William to again ask the
favour, and six months’ leave was granted.
Once more we see Lord William happy and “off to the war,” his soul
on fire. He succeeded in getting appointed to Sir Redvers Buller’s
staff, and left all his affairs in the hands of a brother A.D.C.
with whom he had been sharing a bungalow, and who was a great
friend, telling him to attend to all his business for him during
his absence, and to open all his letters, adding, “If you find any
of them beginning very affectionately you need not go on.” The
friend who received these instructions was Captain Charles Muir (now
Colonel), at that time not only A.D.C., but also commanding His
Excellency’s bodyguard.
Lord William knew how to choose his friends, and felt he was leaving
everything in safe and adequate hands, that his interests would be
faithfully looked after, and all private affairs treated with tact
and delicacy. It was an anxious and responsible position for Captain
Muir. There were the private letters to be cared for, the official
ones to be answered, the racing stable with its inevitable worries
of horses going wrong, men going wrong, and the usual everyday
matters to be carried out and adjudicated upon, all this requiring
considerable discretion.
Lord William arrived at Durban about the middle of April, 1879,
after a tedious journey from Aden in a coasting steamer, which,
like excursion trains, seemed to stop everywhere with no particular
object, and mostly at horribly unhealthy-looking places.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN CHARLES MUIR (NOW COL.), A.D.C. TO VICEROY AND
COMMANDING HIS EXCELLENCY’S BODY-GUARD]
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM AND PONTO]
All around the roadstead were the transports that had brought troops
from England. This thrilled Lord William to such an extent he could
not wait to begin his fighting for Queen and country--that was to
follow--so just to keep his hand in he indulged in a fight on his
own account in the hotel at Durban, which was cram-full of officers
in every branch of the service. This was fight No. 1, before he
had reached head-quarters or reported himself; that time-honoured
institution he attended to later. Fight No. 2 was another private
affair, between himself and a war correspondent named Mr. Fripps, who
made some disparaging remark about General Buller, when Lord William
delivered a message he had received orders to convey, and which
caused the artist inconvenience.
Lord William could not stand this, and said he would not allow
anybody to abuse his General, and if they did he would thrash them.
Mr. Fripps did not appear the least awed, and suggested when they
got back to camp that night they should settle the matter. Amidst
the work and excitement of the day Lord William forgot all about the
suggested thrashing: not so Mr. Fripps, who turned up before going
to bed to see if it was convenient to his lordship to carry out his
threat. A fierce encounter ensued, and it was just touch and go who
came out on top, when one of Lord William’s arms got rather badly
hurt; he wanted to go on fighting with only one arm, but chivalrous
Mr. Fripps suggested finishing the fight another day, when he had
both arms and it would be fair play. After this they were the best of
friends.
Now came the official fighting. Lord William had been hoping for some
staff appointment. His lucky star being in the ascendant, the wish
was gratified almost immediately, as will be gathered from the above
narrative, by General Redvers Buller (at that time Colonel Buller)
appointing him, with the sanction of Lord Chelmsford, as his staff
officer, in the place of Captain the Hon. Ronald Campbell, who had
been killed in a recent battle when fighting against 20,000 Zulus.
Captain Campbell was a difficult man to follow, and Sir Redvers was
rather in despair of finding anyone who could fill his place. General
Marshall, who knew Lord William better than most people at that time,
hearing he had arrived in the country, hastened to bring him to Sir
Redvers’ notice, knowing he would be invaluable.
It did not take Lord Bill long to collect his kit and start off on
his long journey to join his new Chief up country at Kambula, where
he was in command of the irregular Volunteer Cavalry, forming part of
Sir Evelyn Wood’s splendid little fighting force, and it was here the
Fripps fight already mentioned took place.
Lord William found he was the only staff officer with Sir Redvers,
so his hands were soon full. The force of 8000 under his chief
were a strange but interesting crowd, made up largely of gentlemen
not wanted elsewhere, runaway sailors, Australians, Canadians, and
some of the undescribables from South African towns, in fact a
cosmopolitan crowd who had volunteered for the period of the campaign
for the sum of 5s. a day as pay.
What made Lord William’s work the more difficult was that there
were several sub-commands which had originally been forces of their
own, all of whom he had to keep up to the mark, work together, make
efficient, and content. Every detail had to be arranged by him; also
the daily parades had to be inspected.
It was no sinecure being right-hand man to Sir Redvers, for he was a
firm, silent martinet, ruling all under him with a rod of iron, and
he considered it Lord William’s place to wheel this heterogeneous
crowd into line and order. Lord William was, in some degree, of the
same way of thinking as his Chief. Both were born fighters, both,
at any rate in theory, strict disciplinarians, but Lord William had
the happy knack of always drawing the best out of people; his Irish
wit, combined with his cheerfulness, was irresistible; even the most
cantankerous, the worst funkers, the most lawless succumbed, and
became his willing slaves.
June 1st saw Lord Chelmsford’s Army in the Valley of the Umvaloosi,
where across the silvery winding river could be seen the Kraal of
the Ulundi King, with all its minor attachments surrounding it. Two
or three days only had been allowed in which the Zulu Chief had to
decide whether he would do as we bid him or not. While the gentleman
was making up his mind it was considered wise to find out what sort
of ground was in front of our force, over which it was expected
we should advance. The orders were that Sir Redvers was to make a
reconnaissance across the river without aggravating Cetewayo unduly,
before his days of meditation were concluded.
At the appointed hour Lord William and his Chief were to be seen
in front of Sir Evelyn Wood’s tent, waiting for the rest of the
contingent, made up of all sorts and odds and ends.
Sir Redvers led the way, followed by the rest of the horsemen, Lord
William bringing up the rear, to see all was complete. He then
galloped forward to join and lead the Scouts, little thinking what
stern adventure was awaiting him. General Buller followed with the
rest of his party.
Cetewayo, not requiring time for consideration, having quite
decided on his course of action, when hearing of our assortment of
troops climbing down the bank of the Umvaloosi, at once commenced
hostilities, a scattered fire from the Zulus greeting our horsemen.
Nothing daunted, they forded the river on the left of a kopje which
was evidently being held by the Zulus, and then bending again to
the left took it in reverse. The late occupants were seen hurrying
through the long grass out on to the open plain in front of our men,
who thought they feared being cut off. Lord William and his scouts
were pressing on the heels of the fleeing Zulus, some of them not
reaching the Kraal they seemed to be heading for.
It looked as if Sir Redvers and his staff officer were going to
have an easy time and run straight into Ulundi. This was very
exhilarating, and they galloped on close behind the Zulu Chief, who
was evidently in command of the fugitives, and possibly from design
in their rear. He was a huge, powerful man and a veteran, which was
proved by the ring round his head. Suddenly he turned round on the
advancing scouts. Lord William being well in advance of the rest,
leading his men, could plainly see the Chief marking his distance
preparing to use his assegai, and it came. But his opponent was
ready, and too quick for him, so dashing aside the assegai, he
galloped with his sword up, the point fixed and rigid. The Zulu
waited with his shield up. He did not wait long, the impetus
given by the pace his horse was galloping carried Lord William’s
sword right through the shield and half through the man’s body,
entering his heart. He dropped dead, and the assegai was sent home
to Curraghmore, where it decorated the corner of Lady Waterford’s
drawing-room.
I think we may take it the flight of the Zulus was only to lead
our men on, and get them into a tight corner, for suddenly several
thousand Zulus appeared out of the long grass which had entirely
hidden a deep water-course in which they had been waiting. It
therefore became necessary to retreat, and Sir Redvers Buller gave
the order to fire a volley and then retire. Lord William and his
scouts rode back, followed by many bullets. Two men were killed, and
a third wounded, his horse getting away.
Always the first to lead the way into any danger zone, so likewise
Lord Bill was the last to leave it. He had been taken by surprise,
but was in no way flustered, and with that thought for others for
which he was so remarkable, turned for a moment in his saddle, though
hotly pressed by the enemy, to make sure all his living men were away
and safe; he then discovered the wounded man whose horse had run
away, lying helpless and dazed on the ground, but trying to rise. He
was a non-commissioned officer, Fitzmaurice by name, and at the mercy
of the advancing hordes of savages who were perilously near. Quick
as thought Lord William turned his Irish charger and galloped back,
threw himself out of the saddle and tried to put Fitzmaurice up on
to his horse, but the wounded man was as splendid as his preserver.
Realising the delay only meant both being killed--one might possibly
escape, but two? It seemed impossible--the Zulus were close on them,
so he shook his head feebly, saying, “No,” begging Lord William to
leave him and save himself.
Of course Lord Bill would have none of this, and, swearing mighty
swear words, yelled at the man, “Come along, you b---- f----”
(meaning I suppose “beloved friend”). “If you don’t I’ll punch your
b---- (beloved!) head for you.” How characteristic of Lord William.
Those who knew him well will be able to picture the fierce way he
would say it. Seeing Fitzmaurice was weak from loss of blood and
unequal to any exertion, Lord William, though sadly impeded by the
arm hurt in the previous private fight, with some difficulty lifted
and shoved the man on to his horse, no easy matter on a highly-strung
impetuous animal, but it was accomplished, and, hurriedly mounting
behind him, galloped for life, but with little hope of escaping,
the Zulus following closely. What desperately anxious moments! made
doubly so by the wounded man being unable to keep his balance from
weakness and loss of blood, twice his weight nearly pulled Lord
William out of the saddle, and he felt all was over. Just when
beginning to fear he could not support Fitzmaurice any longer, help
came in the shape of Sergeant O’Toole, who had seen their danger
and rode out in hot haste to the rescue, shooting Zulu after Zulu
with his revolver as they came within measurable distance. He then
assisted Lord William with his now helpless burden.
It is interesting to note that both those brave men, Lord William
Beresford and Fitzmaurice, were Irishmen, O’Toole, who came to
the rescue, was Irish, and the horse which bore them into safety
was Irish, each so splendid in their several parts; Lord William
risking his life to save his countryman, he in his turn refusing to
jeopardise his officer’s life, then the plucky Irish horse straining
every nerve in response to his master’s bidding, though carrying a
double burden of swaying riders. Again, the Irishman that grasped
the situation, and without waiting for any word of command, lost not
a moment in riding to their rescue, no precious time being lost in
wondering what had happened, and if there had been a disaster. Truly
a quartet of distinction.
It was hard to tell when they arrived at last in safety who was
the sufferer, for all were bathed in gore. Mr. Archibald Forbes,
the clever newspaper correspondent, tells the story of how on the
afternoon of the same day, hearing Lord William was to be recommended
for a V.C., he hurried to his tent to tell him the news, and
congratulate him; finding his lordship fast asleep, the sleep of
exhaustion, he debated in his mind whether to awake him to hear the
good news or let him sleep on and recuperate; deciding on the former,
only to be rewarded by having a boot thrown at his head and being
told to go to h---- (heaven, I suppose).
Later on, hearing he really was to be recommended for the Cross for
Valour, he remarked it would be no pleasure to him unless O’Toole
received one also. I wonder how many men there are who would have
thought of that? No doubt O’Toole’s promptness had a good deal to do
with the ultimate safety of the party, but it was due to Lord Bill’s
courage and kindness of heart that the episode occurred, and to him,
assuredly, the greater glory.
In a letter written at this time by Lord William to Lady Lytton he
says, speaking of his experiences, “They were indeed two days worth
living for, and never to be forgotten. I was lucky in the day’s
reconnaissance inasmuch that I helped to save a poor man’s life,
whose horse fell with him, about 200 yards from 3000 Zulus. He was
half stunned and bleeding a good deal. I galloped back to him and
with difficulty got him on to my horse (even more exciting than the
gymkhana races two on one pony). The Zulus had come to within 50
yards of us when I managed to start off at a gallop with him, never
thinking that the pair of us would get out alive, but we did.”
It will be remembered that it was during this savage war that Prince
Louis Napoleon lost his life.
When Lord Bill, or “Fighting Bill” as he was now called, returned to
India, many people hardly knew him he was so altered in appearance,
owing to his having grown a beard. It certainly entirely changed his
face, and his friends were glad when he turned up one morning “in his
right mind” as somebody expressed it, or, in other words, shaved, and
as he was before he wasn’t.
He was of course fêted and patted on the back, but fortunately he
was not a nature this would spoil. At one regimental dinner given
in his honour while being carried round the table on the shoulders
of some of his old pals he espied in a corner of the room a doctor
wearing the ribbon (V.C.), so the moment he could free himself from
the affectionate attentions of his friends he made a dive for the
doctor, and hoisting him on to his shoulders (regardless of the man’s
protests, who thought his last moment had come) ran round the room
with him on his shoulders, all present now cheering lustily. It is
delightful to remember this sympathetic action of Lord William’s, his
blood still at fever heat, from the excitement and lust of battle
and the appreciation and applause of his countrymen, yet in the
zenith of his pleasure and congratulations on receiving the V.C.,
the moment he caught sight of the ribbon on another man’s breast at
once wished him to share in the applause and cheers of the evening.
With quick perception and never-failing sympathy with others, he knew
in a moment what memories had been stirred in the old hero’s heart,
perhaps a little bitterness for the forgetfulness of mankind, and
that chivalrous action of Lord William’s turned his night into day,
all present drinking to the two V.C. heroes.
There are in this world a certain number of people who are by nature
so jealous they cannot bear to hear anybody praised but themselves,
who say when others have performed deeds of valour that it is purely
a question of chance and luck, that of course everybody would have
done the same if only they had the opportunity. No doubt many would
like to do great deeds, give their souls for the opportunity, yet
when the moment presents itself, fail to recognise it, and so the
golden chance is lost. All are not blessed with a quick perception,
dashing courage and an uncommonly human heart.
Deciding that a sight of the old country would do him good, Lord
William thought he would finish up the remainder of his leave by
dashing home. After figuring out the time it would take going and
returning, he found he would have just eighteen clear days for
enjoyment. They were a great eighteen days, but hardly restful,
though certainly refreshing. The first to greet and congratulate him
as the ship neared Plymouth was the Prince of Wales, who was in the
Sound at the time with Lord Charles Beresford, and His Royal Highness
was the first to convey the news to Lord William that the Queen had
been pleased to give effect to the recommendation for the V.C., and
that he was commanded to Windsor to receive the reward at the hands
of the Queen-Empress. This was a happy beginning to the short but
well-earned holiday. The Prince was always a good friend to Lord
William, indeed to all the Beresfords. It was seldom one of them was
not in attendance in some capacity.
A very happy, light-hearted Lord Bill journeyed to Windsor to receive
the modest looking but much coveted bronze Cross “For Valour,” Her
Majesty pinning it on to the hero’s breast, but not before he had
explained to his Queen he could not in honour receive recognition of
any services he had been able to perform, unless Sergeant O’Toole’s
services were also recognised, as he deserved infinitely greater
credit than any that might attach to himself.
The Queen, appreciating this generosity and soldierly honesty,
bestowed the reward also on Sergeant Edmund O’Toole of Baker’s
Horse, and Lord William was satisfied. He received a great ovation
in London, being especially pleased with the congratulations of the
Prince of Wales, who, while shaking him warmly by the hand, made one
of those individual and graceful little speeches for which he was so
deservedly popular.
When the Prince of Wales became King he grew so weary of wrestling
with the pins of medals which would not penetrate stiff material,
that he designed a hook for fastening these on, to take the place
of the pins, which makes it a much more simple and less fatiguing
process. The hook is taken back after the hero leaves the “Presence.”
After a great ovation in London, Lord William made straight
for Ireland, going first to the Bilton Hotel in Dublin, then a
fashionable resort. He asked his old friend the hall-porter if there
was anybody he knew in the hotel, and was informed that Captain
Hartopp, 10th Hussars, known to his friends as “Chicken Hartopp,”
was in the bathroom, so he quietly went upstairs and locked the door
on the outside, then turned on the cold douche from the main source,
giving the occupant a rather forcible shower bath. This was followed
by strong language from inside the bathroom. Lord William was outside
listening, and awaiting events. Presently he heard “I thought there
was only one man in the world who would dare to do such a thing, and
he is safe in Africa.”
But he soon found out his man was not in Africa, but at home, very
much at home in Ireland, where he was pleased to find he was not
forgotten, but that if he hoped to visit all the kind friends who
sent him pressing invitations he would have to cut himself into a
great many pieces.
While preparing to return to India, Lord William was staying with
his mother in Charles Street. The Prince of Wales was dining quietly
with her one night; Lord William came down without his V.C. medal.
The Prince at once noticed its absence and told him he believed his
mother had given him the V.C., and he should remember it ought always
to be worn when in the presence of Royalty. Lord William, of course,
went and fetched it.
The holiday was over all too soon, but there was nothing depressed or
“dumpy” about his lordship. At any rate the world was not allowed to
see it if he was, for up to the last moment he was playing practical
jokes and laughing. One of the reasons why he was always happy and
pleased, wherever he might be going, was because he was sure of a
hearty welcome, but of course that was thanks to his own amiability
and cheerfulness.
Returning to India it was pleasant to be told how much he had been
missed, and how delighted everybody was he was back again. He was
looking forward to the Dehra races, which would be due shortly after
his return. His cousin Willie Holmes was managing the meeting. Here
he found a goodly collection of cheery souls, amongst them the
well-known Mr. Kelly Maitland, Mr. Horace Hayes, and many more. Lord
William’s Gazelle managed to beat Mr. Horace Hayes’ Bismillah in
the pony race. They then all moved on to Meerut for more racing. At
this meeting Mr. Kelly Maitland gave a cup for a three-quarter-mile
pony handicap. The handicapping of Sattara, the pony belonging to
Mr. Maitland, upset him, for he considered it unfair. It was a
little unusual to enter anything to run for his own cup, and so he
had better have swallowed his discomfiture and said nothing, but he
began airing his grievance at the Wheler Club in the evening, when
Mr. Holmes came into the room, and made some pointed remarks about
the generosity in giving a cup he was so evidently anxious to win
himself. Then the fat was in the fire, everybody talked at once,
shouting to make themselves heard, while somebody went into the
lottery room where Lord William was busy, and told him Mr. Maitland
was calling Mr. Holmes naughty names. This of course could not be
tolerated; he must see his cousin was not sat upon by Mr. Maitland or
anybody else, so he dashed into the fray, after which matters were
not quieter and the hullabaloo ended in the celebrated “Maitland
versus Beresford” defamation case, which was tried before a native
judge in 1880 and the plaintiff was non-suited. Lord William’s
language was as a rule most polished, and personally I never heard
him otherwise than parliamentary, but I have been told that on
occasions “He could bring tears to the eyes of a cabby from an utter
incompetence to compete with him.” I am under the impression this
racing row gave him one of his opportunities and he threw in a few
new words not generally understood outside Ireland, which added
lustre to the occasion, and it is always annoying to have words
hurled at you that you do not know the meaning of. It leaves so much
room for speculation and possibilities.
There was a little excitement also at the Allahabad races of 1879-80,
where he rode his own Pomponius Ego heavily handicapped by the weight
of 13st. 7lbs., while opposing him was Daintily, ridden by Tingey,
carrying 9st. 7lbs. The latter was declared winner, while Lord
William firmly believed he had won, but Pomponius swerved when just
on the post, and as several ponies were all up together in rather a
bunch it was perhaps difficult to tell exactly. At any rate the judge
decided he was fourth. There were ructions over this, Lord William
speaking his mind; it was finally agreed there should be a match
between Pomponius and Daintily, 1000 rupees a side, the same weights
and same distance, only instead of riding his own pony Lord William
put up John Irving.
The match was breathlessly watched by a large gathering, and some
betting was the order of the day. The result was a dead heat. The
owners refused to divide, so it had to be run off again, when
Pomponius once more swerved just on the post and was beaten by half
a length. So Pomponius’s owner had to pay up and look as if he liked
it, which none knew better how to do, for there never lived a more
cheerful loser.
Taking it all together Lord William was fairly successful this cold
weather with his horses. Telegram won a couple of hurdle races at
Agra. The stable did nothing at Lucknow, but in February Ashantee,
ridden by Lord William, won the Himalayan Chase at the Dehra meeting.
Mr. Abbott tells a good story about this event. Ashantee’s owner had
backed him pretty heavily through his pals with Miller the bookmaker,
till the horse stood at 2 to 1. Before mounting to go to the post
he went up to Miller and put on another thousand. Miller addressed
him thus, “Well, my lord, I should be sorry to see a promising young
nobleman like yourself cut off at the commencement of a brilliant
career, but it would suit my book if you was to break your blooming
neck in this race.”
I remember on one of my journeys in a P. & O., Miller and his
partner, whose name I forget, were on the same boat journeying to
Calcutta. He seemed a very gentle-voiced retiring sort of man, but no
doubt could make himself heard and felt when so inclined.
While all the fighting in Afghanistan and South Africa was
proceeding, each treading hotly on the other’s heels, the country
at home was growing discontented and upset, for it naturally became
disorganised, business interfered with, and some discomfort for the
inhabitants, which ended in Parliament being dissolved on March 24th,
1880, the Liberal Government being returned by about 120.
The Queen sent for Lord Hartington, then for Lord Granville, and
lastly for Mr. Gladstone, who accepted office.
CHAPTER V
THE VICEROY RETIRES
Change of Government and What it Meant--Why it Took Place
at Simla--The Ceremony--An Anxious Moment--A General
Stampede--Retirement of Lord Lytton--Work of Which Viceroy?--Lord
William’s Services Valued--A Bet Between Him and the Author--Lord
William’s 10 to 1
In the spring of 1880 there was the change of Government at home
already alluded to, brought about mostly by the dissatisfaction of
the country over Lord Lytton’s Afghan policy and the war in South
Africa with its disasters and awkward situations, Mr. Gladstone
succeeding Lord Beaconsfield as Prime Minister. He at once took steps
to reverse Lord Lytton’s policy. Therefore His Excellency resigned,
Lord Ripon taking his place in June, if I remember correctly.
The change in Viceroys usually took place in the cold weather at
Calcutta, but on this occasion the Afghan War was still going on, and
the new Liberal Government could not wait until the monsoon, which
was due in a few weeks, had cooled the air, so Lord Ripon had to take
the reins from Lord Lytton at Simla.
In those days the railway was left at Umballa, on the main line of
the Indian North-Western, after which the rest of the journey was
done with horses in vehicles of some sort, the usual mode being
by “tonga,” a sort of phaeton hung very low and drawn by a pair of
ponies harnessed curricle fashion, the ponies being changed about
every four miles, this part of the journey taking about eight hours.
The first forty miles over the plains to Kalka, the roads are good,
and the travelling over them is very pleasant. After that they become
mountainous for fifty-eight miles, climbing and winding up the spurs
of the outer Himalayas to the deodar and rhododendron clad ridge of
Simla, six or seven thousand feet high.
Government House, or the Viceregal Lodge at Simla at the time of the
Ripons’ arrival was called “Peterhoff,” and it would be difficult to
imagine an abode less viceregal. It was simply a rather glorified
bungalow, situated on the edge of a young precipice, the house
cramped and inconvenient, with very little ground about it, but
it has long since been superseded by the much more commodious and
impressive new viceregal lodgings on the summit of what was then
known as Observation Hill. The lawn in front of Peterhoff was no
bigger than many of those often seen in front of suburban villas.
This Peterhoff lawn was, however, historic, for it was there that
Lord Lawrence thrashed a chuprasse (messenger) _with his great-coat_
for some unusually flagrant act of carelessness or disobedience.
Small as this historic lawn was, it had to take part in the
ceremonies attendant on the change of Viceroys. Lord William was not
responsible for what occurred there on this memorable day, but as an
acting A.D.C. necessarily took part in it, and I think if he had
then been Military Secretary the arrangements might have been better.
When the change of Rulers took place at Calcutta there was plenty
of space and room for the crowd of dignitaries, British and native,
presenting an impressive show as they lined the stately portico and
ample stairway. The numerous uniforms, picturesque dresses of the
native chiefs and notables, together with the scarlet uniforms and
tall lances of the bodyguard combined to make the scene gay, and even
splendid.
Not so at Simla, where on this occasion the whole officialdom from
the Commander-in-Chief and members of Council downwards, were packed
into a big shamiana (tent with a flat roof) somewhere about twenty
feet square. Most noticeable amongst the assembly were the two Sikh
Chiefs, of Jhind and Nabha, their states not being far from Simla;
both were elderly men, tall, handsome and strikingly alike, though I
believe no relation. With their snowy garments, jewelled necklaces,
aigrettes and gold-hilted swords, they looked what they were, warrior
princes of the best Oriental type.
There was nothing remarkable about the rest of the crowd. Everybody
of course had to be in uniform, and as no one was allowed to remain
outside the shamiana it was soon packed and most uncomfortably hot.
One side of the tent was open, and a strip of red cloth led from it
to the porch of Peterhoff.
Everybody was awaiting the arrival of the new Viceroy, Lord Ripon,
who had slept the night before at the foot of the hills at Kalka, and
was expected every moment to arrive with his personal staff in a
train of tongas.
Sir Robert Egerton, the Lieut.-Governor of the Punjab, had gone to
meet Lord Ripon at the first rest-house, some six or eight miles
down the road, where the new Viceroy was to refresh his inner man
and change his travelling garments. Everybody in the tent was very
hot and wishing the show over, but they had some time still to wait.
The appointed hour had come and gone, but still no Viceroy. Lord
Lytton walked up and down between the house and the shamiana smoking
a cigar, while everybody else held their breath waiting anxiously for
release before being quite stifled.
At last the signal was given, the great man was approaching, there
was a general buzz and hum as in a hive of bees when the queen thinks
of moving. Lord Lytton hurried out of the house: three or four
aides-de-camp, Lord William being one, endeavoured with difficulty
to clear a space in the shamiana, which feat presented somewhat of
a conundrum, the area being about the size of an ordinary healthy
hearthrug.
Sir Robert Egerton’s little pony carriage could be heard driving up,
and in a minute or two Sir Robert came striding down the red cloth, a
very imposing figure, tall and portly, with a good deal of presence,
dressed in his diplomatic uniform as a Lieut.-Governor with cocked
hat and sword. Lord Ripon followed, neither tall nor majestic in
appearance, his London clothes looking as though they had been used
as a pillow in the tonga on the way up, or hastily pulled out of a
much-packed Gladstone bag, which was no doubt precisely the case,
and how loyal of him! having been sent out by the bag’s namesake.
Well! now the show began. The A.D.C.’s pressed everybody back until
they had to hold in their breath for fear of taking up too much room.
Lord Lytton, whose manner was always polished and charming, came
forward and shook hands, with some ordinary words of welcome. Lord
Ripon, who felt the awkwardness of the situation, being sent out to
replace Lord Lytton, nothing abashed at the numerous eyes fixed on
him at close quarters, plunged at once “in medias res.”
_Lord Ripon_: “Didn’t want to come out at all really, my dear Lytton,
not in the least you know, but a man must obey orders----”
_Lord Lytton_ (much embarrassed) interrupting: “Yes, my dear
Marquis, quite so. Let me introduce you to His Excellency the
Commander-in-Chief.” Sir Paul Haines, standing on the fringe of the
crowd, was presented, Lord Ripon hastily shook hands, keeping an
anxious eye on Lord Lytton, then returning to the charge.
_Lord Ripon_: “Yes! As I was saying, my dear Lytton, I didn’t want
to.”
_Lord Lytton_ (more embarrassed): “Yes, quite so, exactly. Let me
present you to Mr. ----, a member of your Council.”
Lord William dived into the crowd, assisted by other A.D.C.’s, who
trampled on everybody until the high official was produced, and the
presentation effected.
_Lord Ripon_ (again returned to the matter weighing heavily on his
mind): “Oh, yes! I was saying I’ve been Secretary of State, you know,
and I didn’t----”
_Lord Lytton_ (now desperate): “Yes, my dear Marquis. Let me present
you to Mr. ----, another member of your Council.”
Once more a dive into the crowd, Lord William returning breathless
with his high official, when a hasty presentation took place.
The crowd now began to enter into the spirit of the thing, and, being
tired of having their toes trodden on and their waistcoat pressed
out of their proper positions in life, propelled all the big-wigs
wanted by Lord Lytton to the front, almost into Lord Ripon’s arms,
this expedited matters, and there was no longer any time for personal
explanations, so Lord Ripon kept them for another time and everything
went on famously.
So far, all had been comedy, but it now nearly approached tragedy,
for Lord Lytton’s eyes fell on the Rajah of Jhind, one of the Sikh
chiefs already mentioned, and he was asked to come forward, arriving
in the tiny space kept open by Lord William. He bent himself from
the waist and touched the feet of the new ruler of India, direct
representative of his Sovereign Lady the great Queen, for whom he
had fought most gallantly, and for whom he would right willingly
have fought again. Only Orientals can perform so deep an obeisance
with dignity; to receive it equally becomingly is not so easy, and
poor Lord Ripon, who had been hurried out of England and hurried
up country with hardly time to think, and with little knowledge of
Oriental etiquette, was taken completely by surprise, and jumped
back as far as the crowd would let him, not knowing quite what was
happening, and then bowed violently, the two heads only missing
contact by an inch--awful moment! for had the chief’s turban been
knocked off, or even set awry, he would have felt himself deeply
disgraced, for Orientals do not look at things as we do. To deeply
wound the feelings, however unintentionally, of a chief who, when the
mutiny broke out, was the first to draw his sword on our side, would
have stirred the whole Punjab, and we might have lost in respect and
loyalty what no elective council or other political bodies could
ever have restored. So differently does the East and West judge, and
reflect on both trivial and important matters.
Shortly after this the ceremonial came to an end, and Lord Ripon was
conducted into the house to take the Viceroy’s oath in presence of
his Council and other almighties who cared to attend.
The rest of the crowd were then at liberty to go home, but the
morning’s entertainment was not yet over, for groups of people
were riding homewards along the main road or Mall when bang went
a gun, let off close above their heads, the first gun of the new
Viceroy’s salute. What a transformation scene took place, the crowd
of gold-laced and uniformed big-wigs with cocked hats and flowing
plumes, who a moment before had been looking tired and bored,
were now a struggling mass of men and horses, all presenting the
appearance of circus riders doing tricks. One portly General, who
danced beautifully, was struggling manfully with his long-tailed
Yarkundi pony, which seemed to consider the only safe place on earth
was over the railings off the Mall and down the precipice the other
side. Two other folk of some importance had cannoned into each other
violently, while one had bitten the dust. Various people were seen
disappearing in the distance on madly galloping steeds, heaven only
knowing where they would stop; other horses following in their wake,
prancing amongst the cocked hats and sun helmets strewing the ground.
One unfortunate individual, when his horse unshipped him during its
attempts to climb a tree, had a really nasty fall. He seemed from
all accounts to have been ricocheting a bit, and was laid up for
some time. Needless to state none of those happy people who were in
a position to choose what they would do, waited for the remaining
twenty guns, and there was a general stampede. The roads in hill
stations do not lend themselves to runaway horses or circus tricks.
Most of those concerned were glad when that day was over, and most
assuredly both Lord Lytton and his successor must have breathed sighs
of relief.
Lord William had a keen sense of humour, and nothing escaped his
notice. During experiences of this sort, however, he always behaved
with great calm and dignity, which showed his powers of self-control,
for he was often consumed with mirth. He was all the time, thanks
to his powers of observation and wonderful memory, combined with
the interest he took in the etiquette, superstitions and mystic
rites of the Eastern people, laying the foundation for the brilliant
performance of the most difficult and many-sided office he was a
little later called upon to fill.
The new Viceroy being installed and having appointed Lord William as
one of his A.D.C.’s, it now became part of his duties to accompany
the Lyttons a certain distance on their way home, travelling with
them and seeing to their comfort as far as Saharanpur, en route for
Bombay.
With much regret on the part of all the Lytton household they bid
adieu to the A.D.C. To quote Lady Lytton’s own words: “We felt indeed
sorry to lose his cheery and constant pleasant companionship. His
kindness to all our children had never ceased from the first day to
the last.”
And what were the feelings of Lord William when he said farewell to
the friends who had always shown him the greatest consideration and
kindness?
[Illustration: LORD LYTTON, FAMILY AND STAFF, 1877
_Left to right._ _Standing_: Col. Colley, Mil. Sec. (later Sir George
Colley); Lord William Beresford, Capt. Rose, 10th Hussars; Col.
Villiers, Dr. Barnett, Capt. Liddell, Miss ---- (author forgets),
Lord Downe, Lady Downe, Capt. Jackson
_Seated_: Mrs. Burne, Sir John Strachey, Lord Lytton, Lady Lytton,
Lady Strachey, Col. Owen Burne, Private Secretary; Lord Kilmaine,
brother of Mrs. Burne
_Children, left to right_: Bina Lytton, Connie Lytton, Fanny Strachey]
To many A.D.C.’s it would only be a case of “Le Roi est mort, vive
le Roi,” but their late “aide” was much attached to them, and being
of an affectionate and loyal nature must have felt rather as though
he had been torn up by the roots. That Lord William lived to see
the good results of some of the seeds sown by Lord Lytton’s policy
and earnest work there can be no doubt, for he surely laid the
foundations of some of our latter-day benefits in India. Amongst
the measures that must always be associated with Lord Lytton were
the Famine reports and Insurance, the equalisation and reduction of
the salt duty, the system of Indian Finance profoundly modified by
decentralisation, and reconstruction of Provincial responsibility. In
recognition of his services when returning from India an earldom
was conferred upon him.
To an impartial observer looking back over the lives and works of the
different rulers in India, it appears to matter not what the views
and policy of each may be, they cannot get away from the fact that
they must, and do, reap the benefit to some extent of the work of
their predecessors. This must be a consoling thought to the retiring
Viceroy, who may feel on leaving India that he will be a thing of
the past, but that at any rate his work will live after him, and,
maybe, he will be spared to see it grow. Even those who know nothing
of India may therefore readily grasp what a difficult thing it is to
know the actual share each Viceroy has taken in the measures proposed
and carried out during his time. Each Viceroy is of course actually
responsible, though his part of the transactions of the Government
of India is sometimes confined to a careful perusal of the papers
and an affirmatory nod or two at the Council table. That Viceroys
work hard and conscientiously there is little doubt, but cannot take
real interest in, or have a thorough knowledge of, half the big
questions they have to deal with. In some cases the very weight of
their responsibility and possible far-reaching personal influence,
makes them shy of exerting that influence, preferring to leave many
questions to be virtually decided by those who have, or ought to
have, first-hand knowledge.
It is only really in matters of foreign policy that a Viceroy is
almost compelled to form his own decisions. Then again there is
the constant pressure exercised by the Secretary of State. Every
mail the Viceroy writes a long letter to the Secretary of State at
home, and every mail he receives a letter containing the views and
decisions of the latter. Also long cypher telegrams are continually
passing between the two, so that the policy or decision and acts
of a Viceroy are very often not his own, but have been dictated
to him by the Secretary of State. It is well, however, to bear in
mind that if things go wrong, it is the Viceroy who is abused by
the British public, the Press, and quite possibly by the Secretary
of State as well. It does not as a rule take a Viceroy very long
to find out Secretaries of State are not infallible, and that it
is a risky business to go against the opinions of his members of
Council, each of whom have the key to the whole situation, and is on
the spot, while the Secretary of State is not, and has to judge by
documentary evidence, not always at first hand, and naturally robbed
of the atmosphere surrounding the matter requiring decision. All who
have any knowledge of diplomatic situations and work, know what an
important part this plays, and how misleading a written temperature
may be to those not present and therefore unable to keep their finger
on the pulse of the moment.
This may sound as if it had nothing to do with the subject of these
memories, but as a matter of fact it has. It was because Lord William
so thoroughly appreciated the worries and difficulties surrounding
the life of those he was serving, and because he was always ready to
help in any way possible outside his own particular calling, that he
became so valued by them all. He could be relied upon to carry out,
and see through, any tiresome social problem, could be depended on to
remember and produce almost verbatim established precedents of the
time he had been in India and some time before, as he had closely
studied Indian history on his arrival in the country. How clearly
he had mastered detail was proved to me several times later in his
career.
Once in London, I think in June, 1885, if I remember rightly, when
speaking to him of the different castes and their faiths, I was much
interested and surprised at the feeling way he spoke of and in a
measure appreciated their feelings, of the Parsees, whom he described
as the Jews of India, with their great wealth and expenditure,
endowing schools, building hospitals, and taking part in many great
financial undertakings, so full of soul and feeling, that they will
not allow their dead to pollute the earth, yet do not hesitate to
offer up the human bodies of those they loved as plunder and food to
the disgusting, flesh-eating vultures, who sit watching the white
road leading from the City of Bombay to the “Tower of Silence.” It is
revolting to hear the cry of those almost featherless, horrid-looking
birds, as they see another pathetic procession winding its way up the
hill. Of the Hindus, who while considering it wicked and cruel to
kill, and against their religion, still will work their cattle until
unable to stand any longer, and then leave them to die of thirst and
misery, rather than put them out of their pain. Animals in India are
supposed to possess souls, and are worshipped, that being the case
one wonders they dare so ill-treat them.
The life of the Hindu is one perpetual ceremony from the time of
birth to the day when he is burnt by the side of the Holy Ganges.
Lord William and I agreed that their religion must be a most
absorbing and real thing in their lives, otherwise the perpetual
observance, and ritual, from morn to eve would become most irksome,
yet some of it appeals to us as rather beautiful. The first thing
in the morning on awaking the Hindu turns to the East and prays to
his Sun-god, then to the river to cleanse himself and perform his
ablutions, asking his god to keep him from all temptation, all sin in
taste, touch, word, thought or deed. From the river to the barber to
be shaved, a most important part of the curriculum, for only a tiny
tuft of hair is allowed to any Hindu, and even that must be hidden by
his head-dress.
The different caste marks of the natives worn on the forehead are
distinctly interesting, and once when we were boasting how much we
knew about all these things, I asked Lord William if he could tell
them straight off from memory. He bet me a sovereign he could. I felt
I might easily lose my sovereign, so beat him down to five shillings,
which I told him was as much as I could afford to lose. I could see
from the merry twinkle in his eye he thought he had me on toast,
so just as he was beginning I said: “If we are not agreed what is
going to happen, who shall be the judge?” In a moment he named a
mutual friend we were likely to meet at Hurlingham on the following
Saturday. This being settled, he asked: “Where shall I begin?”
_Author_: “With the Hindus.”
_Lord William_: “A triangle encircling a dot.”
_Author_: “Right.”
_Lord William_: “The Brahmans, one single spot on the middle of the
forehead.”
_Author_: “Right.”
_Lord William_: “Shiva, a triangle, crescent, a dot and two curved
lines” (he hesitated a moment, continuing) “and a U-shaped mark with
a dot in the middle.”
_Author_: “Wrong!” (in a triumphant voice).
_Lord William_: “No, no, I am right, by my vig and viskers I’m right!”
We both talked at once while laughing, gesticulating and explaining,
he enquired where I considered he had gone wrong. I explained
the U-mark with a dot in the middle was part of the Vishnu caste
mark, and what he had forgotten of the Shiva was in reality three
horizontal curved lines.
The argument became so fierce the rest of the caste marks remained
unrelated, but on the following Saturday I received my five
shillings, he having found out his mistake meanwhile, and to my
horror, having no pocket in my best bib and tucker of any useful
proportions, I was presented with five shillings in threepenny pieces
out of pure mischief, but he did not score much, as I insisted on his
carrying them for me all the afternoon.
It will be rather sad in many ways when the much-boasted civilisation
of the West has robbed India of the value and dignity of her
traditions and heritages.
The Indians are really descendants I believe of the great Aryan
race, whose language our Lord spoke in. There is so much of interest
attached to the lives, faiths, and rituals of the people of the
East, but this is not the place to write it, and we must go back
to Simla, where we left Lord Ripon, the new Viceroy. He was a Roman
Catholic, the first of that faith to be a ruler of India; also the
first who had been Secretary of State for India, not that either fact
troubled the natives much.
One of the features of the Simla season, is the social gathering
on Saturdays to witness sports and gymkhanas held on the course or
ground I have already described in a previous chapter.
Lord William was the moving spirit; he got up the races, competed in
them, and was always ready with a fresh programme every week. He won
so many races himself that it became monotonous, so he invented all
sorts of weird and sporting combinations.
The racecourse, if so we may name it, was rather dangerous, as at one
time there was only an apology of a stone wall consisting of loosely
piled-up stones to prevent an impetuous pony from falling down the
side of the hill, or what in India we call the khud, in English a
dangerous mountain-side.
I remember seeing Lord William get some shocking falls, and once
when he was driving nine ponies and riding one over the jumps, when
it came to turning the awkward corner already mentioned, one of the
leaders, he drove three abreast, took it into its head the stone wall
was there to be jumped, and while it was hanging suspended over the
awful drop at the other side of the wall, which would probably have
meant a broken back, Lord William and the rest of what he called his
“10 to 1” were hopelessly mixed up on the safer side, looking as
if they had all jumped on each other. His lordship was extricated
with nothing worse than a dislocated shoulder and thumb. He laughed
immoderately, though he was ashy white. He insisted on having his
shoulder put right at once. A chair was brought and placed on the
course upon which he sat while his shoulder was jumped and bumped
into its place again, also his thumb attended to and tied up. It was
with some difficulty he was prevented from trying again, only being
stopped by a brother A.D.C. swearing he had sent some of the ponies
home, as they had apparently had enough even if Lord William had not.
CHAPTER VI
AN IDEAL MILITARY SECRETARY
Dignity and Humour--Some Tests of Both--Affection of the Natives
for Lord William--How They Tried to Please him--What Happened
on a Slippery Floor--Some Tableaux--A Supper and a Race--What
the Jockey Club Would Have Said--Lord Ripon’s Message to the
Amir of Afghanistan--The Amir’s Reply--The Work of the Military
Secretary--Swelled Heads and Outgrown Shoes--How Lord William Dealt
with Them--Pay of Military Secretary--Compensation for Diminishing
Rupee--No Fish to Fry
Those who knew Lord William will think I have passed over a very
marked feature in his life, namely, his smartness at repartee and
his endless jokes. I have forgotten neither, nor have I ceased to
be grateful for the way he succeeded in brightening up the dullest
parties; he carried sunshine and merriment with him wherever he went,
and it was infectious. No matter how awkward a position he might find
himself in, he always came out gracefully and smiling.
I feel that to repeat Lord William’s jokes, is to rob them of their
atmosphere and merit. Jokes are individual things, and require
such delicate handling, they must have their own surroundings and
atmosphere; it is so easy to rob them of their bloom or kill them
altogether.
Lord William was one of those rare people who found it possible to be
serious in a funny way, which was no doubt an asset, though at times
disconcerting for other people, as will be seen from the following
narrative:
When on tour the Viceroy and Vice-reine held receptions answering to
drawing-rooms in England, so that all the local people could come
and make bows and curtseys to the representatives of the English
Court. On one of these occasions a fat Irish lady, having made her
obeisance, thought she would like to watch the rest of the show, so
she and her daughters either stayed in the throne room, or returned
to it, ranging up opposite the viceregal party, and began making
audible comments.
This could not be allowed, and Lord William most politely told her to
“Move on,” though I am sure he did it in a way that made it appear
he was conferring a great favour, and with one of his most winning
smiles. The lady did not move an inch, but stood her ground.
“Then, Ma’am,” said Lord William with another seductive smile and
with the broadest of brogues put on for the purpose, “you’ll have
to pardon me if I put my arm round your waist.” The lady, seeing
that, whether she liked it or not, from the throne room she was
going and thinking discretion the greater part of valour, “moved on”
without the pressure of Lord William’s arm. I was not present on this
occasion, so tell the tale as it was told to me.
Lord Bill’s face when anything funny happened, and he felt it behove
him in his official capacity to be serious, was a study; and while he
often witnessed strange happenings they never ceased to amuse him;
his sense of humour never deserted him.
I remember one occasion when he must have found self-control
difficult.
The viceregal party were on tour and staying in a big station where
they announced they would hold one of these drawing-room sort of
receptions.
_Scene I. (No action.)_
Large bungalow of chief political officer in the neighbourhood. Two
large rooms and one small one opening into one another, the curtains
which usually hung between the rooms to make them more private and
to prevent people hearing what you are saying! being removed for the
afternoon, leaving a free passage from the verandah on one side of
the house through the three rooms and out into another verandah at
the other side of the bungalow.
All the furniture had been removed from the middle rooms to make it
more impressive.
A roughly constructed and somewhat uncertain platform raised a little
from the ground, covered with imposing red felt and bath rugs. Two
deck-chairs or something of that sort representing the thrones.
_Scene II. (Action.)_
Enter Mr. and Mrs. Viceroy, who have learnt to pick their way, and
walk with circumspection over hastily laid red baize and felt. Mr.
and Mrs. Viceroy making polite conversation to their host and hostess
admiring all the excellent arrangements made for their comfort. Mrs.
Viceroy sits on her throne, Mr. Viceroy stands beside her, and the
staff arrange themselves becomingly, one A.D.C. having been told
off to receive and unpack the ladies on arrival at No. 1 verandah,
another on verandah No. 2 to repack them, and say how charming they
are all looking, that it is a day he will remember all his life, and
so on. A third A.D.C. announces the names, which are handed to him on
cards, and the Military Secretary introduces them.
_Scene III._
Arrival of fluttering ladies on verandah No. 1. Many never having
attended a drawing-room at home, are very anxious about their
curtseys. First lady, who has been practising various kinds of
curtseys and bobs before her glass for days, now forgets all about
them, her one idea being to get it over. She shoots through the room
and out the other side, her example followed by those behind her,
like rabbits bolting in frosty weather from one hole to another, Mrs.
Viceroy trying to keep time with a bow and a reassuring smile for
each. The Viceroy bowing, trying to look pleased, but unmistakably
bored.
Fresh batch of ladies, one starts with the wrong foot first, or
something of the kind, gets out of step and turns round to begin,
again hoping for better luck, but hastily stopped by Lord William,
who explains in a whisper the rules of the game forbid any return.
Mr. and Mrs. Viceroy pretend not to see or hear.
Everything going swimmingly, Viceroyalty beginning to think of tea
and drive in the evening, A.D.C.’s beginning to think of flannels,
rackets and smokes.
Enter elderly lady very nervous, makes a really profound curtsey,
so profound she cannot extricate herself from it, and she rocks
slowly backwards and forwards endeavouring to recover herself and get
into her stride again. Lord William’s big blue eyes watching every
movement (I felt certain he was betting on the finish), when with a
groan the lady subsided backwards on the floor, her feet entangled in
drapery and skirt.
“Fighting Bill” to the rescue, old lady picked up, her brow mopped,
bonnet set straight and restoratives administered in verandah No. 2.
_Scene IV._
Royalty descend--mutual congratulations, Lord William and A.D.C.’s
telling each other all about it in room No. 3. Enter whiskey and
sodas.
But I must not be frivolous, as Lord William was a stern upholder
of the dignity of the Court, and very properly so, only the
“make-shifts” necessary for more or less impromptu ceremonies in
India and foreign countries at times lend themselves to amusing
situations; and why is it people always want to laugh more when they
know they must not do it?
I remember at a big function at Simla, when Colonel Chesney was
being made a K.C.S.I. by Lord Ripon. Lord William had arranged
for a number of us to be allowed into the holy of holies to watch
the ceremony. We stood round the wall like well-behaved school
children. His Excellency was announced, small, rotund and dignified
in flowing robes of state, and walked up a strip of the inevitable
red baize to his seat at the far end of the room. There was a good
deal of ceremony about the proceedings. First one official walked a
few steps and bowed to the occupant on the seat at the end of the
red baize, then, after apparently counting something to himself,
advanced a few more steps and bowed again, continuing this slow
mode of progress until within a certain distance of His Excellency,
when more characters took part, and my attention was diverted to
one of the bowing individuals who was related to me, which made me
more sensitive to the fact that one of his silk stockings was on
wrong side out, and with every waft of air caused by his humble
obeisances, little fluttering ends of silk streamed out behind the
happily unconscious man, who, buttoned tightly into much gold lace,
was fancying himself not a little. Those little flags fascinated me,
and I was certain not one of them escaped Lord William’s eagle eye. I
looked across the room to where he was carrying out his duties, but
he was as grave as a judge, and so was I, indeed I flattered myself
I was behaving very nicely, until I heard one of the daughters of
the Commander-in-Chief, who was standing just behind me, whisper:
“Look, he has got his stockings on wrong side out.” I then felt, with
someone sharing my amusement, I must laugh and disgrace myself for
ever. Fortunately more important developments taking place we forgot
to watch the fluffy bits of silk.
While being most punctilious about all things concerning his work,
and the popularity of those he served, and in spite of his hard
work, Lord William found time to amuse himself fairly well. I was at
Government House one day when preparations were being made for a
dance. Seeing the native servants deeply engrossed arranging a cosy
dark corner, amongst some palms and curtains, I enquired what they
were trying to do. They replied with many salaams that they were
arranging a “Kissi Ka waste for Lord Brasspot-Sahib,” in English I
suppose you would call it a quiet corner for two. All the natives
were fond of Lord William, hence doubtless their anxiety to minister
to his moods and emotions, arranging a little corner where a little
kissing could be done in peace and quietness.
Speaking of dances reminds me of one at the Commander-in-Chief’s
(Sir Donald Stewart); the floor was very slippery, and Lord William,
while dancing in a set of Lancers, pointing his toes and doing pretty
steps first to the right and then to the left, fell on to his knees
in front of a huge old lady with several chins and tied in the middle
with a string or what had possibly once been a sash, but it was hard
to tell, being out of sight in folds of figure. Lord William, not the
least disconcerted, crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his
head, saying, “Madam, I am at your feet,” and was up dancing again
for all he was worth without a pause, as if it was all part of the
game, much to the amusement of everybody present, especially the lady
at whose feet he fell, for she was a jolly cheery soul.
Among the enterprising things Lord William did in India was the
overhauling and setting on its feet the Amateur Dramatic Club,
which was on the verge of bankruptcy when he applied himself to
re-establishing it on a firmer basis; now it is one of the soundest
undertakings in India, with a stock of excellent scenery, library,
and large wardrobe. Always anxious to provide amusement for the folk
at Simla, he considered it would be a pity to allow such a useful
institution to fall on evil days, so with his usual generosity he
advanced the money to pay off the most pressing of the club’s debts,
and from that day to the present time the club has never looked
behind it and has now become the fashion. Every season theatricals
take place there, all the rank and fashion taking part or scrambling
for seats to watch the performances. Having firmly placed the club
on its feet Lord William retired from the management, only keeping a
first claim on one of the boxes. Invitations to the little suppers
he instituted in the theatre after the performances were much sought
after, their fame had spread far and wide, both for the good things
he provided and for their cheeriness.
One year some tableaux were got up in the theatre, the money
collected for seats being given to some charity connected with sick
children. Lord William loved small bairns and they loved him. I
remember at these particular tableaux I represented Charlotte Corday
going to execution for the murder of Marat; my executioners were Lord
William Beresford and Captain Donald Stewart, a brother officer of my
husband’s in the 92nd Gordon Highlanders; we had many rehearsals both
for this tableau and others, but the despair of the stage manager
was great over the Corday scene, as the executioners always ended in
romping. Well do I remember their both rolling about the floor trying
to execute one another instead of Charlotte Corday. The manager
would become almost tearful in his entreaties to them to “behave
themselves.” They would then get up, shake themselves, saying to one
another, “Now no more nonsense, Donny, we must behave ourselves”; and
Captain Stewart would reply, “Now do shut up, Bill, and let us get to
business,” but their good resolutions did not last long, they were
soon stabbing, wrestling and tickling one another again and rolling
about on the floor. I began to wonder what would really happen when
the day arrived to appear before the public, but in spite of having
had no proper rehearsals when the fateful moment came they behaved
splendidly, but directly they were off the stage and behind the
scenes began again.
When the whole performance was over, the staff gave a supper in the
theatre to those they wished to invite who had taken part in the
tableaux. A merry evening followed. As soon as all had refreshed
themselves, someone suggested a steeplechase over the tables and
chairs; forms were quickly turned upside-down, and chairs built up
into fences. There was some fun while the would-be riders chose
their mounts. At last all was settled, and we women packed ourselves
away in one corner of the room to act as audience. I am afraid if
the Jockey Club had witnessed that race none of the riders would
ever again have been granted licences, for they out-jockeyed each
other, crossing and trying to pull the riders off their mounts. There
were some resounding and shocking spills, but nobody cared, and the
race waxed fast and furious, being won eventually by Captain Donald
Stewart, a great big fine mount, ridden, if my memory may be relied
upon, by Captain Des Voeux of the Carabineers or Captain Roddy Owen.
The appearance of these sportsmen at the end of the race baffles
description, their hair, which in some cases had answered for reins,
was hanging in disordered wisps, collars reclining on shoulders,
clothes dusty, dirty shiny faces, and all weak with laughter.
This was the lighter side of what was taking place during the early
part of Lord Ripon’s reign. He, meanwhile, was giving anxious thought
to the conclusion of the second Afghan campaign, having been sent out
with instructions to reverse Lord Lytton’s policy and terminate the
war as speedily as possible. Kandahar, which the latter had intended
to hold, was given up, and the whole of Afghanistan secured to the
Amir Abdul Rahman.
The following, poem shall I call it, appeared about this time in one
of the Indian papers signed “Bala.” A cutting of it was given to me,
but I do not know from what paper, so cannot ask for permission to
reproduce it, and can only trust I may be forgiven.
THE VICEROY’S MESSAGE AND THE AMIR’S REPLY
George Samuel, Marquis of Ripon, to the Afghan Chief wrote he,
“God made me Viceroy of India, and thou knowest what I made thee,
You rule by my will and pleasure, I care not to flatter or bribe,
One pledge or promise I ask of thee; I pardon if all men know
That up to this time thou hast not done much to prove thee our friend
or foe.
For the Russian is closing upon you, our faith in his promise is dead,
He is massing his troops on your border, and is eager to push on ahead.
Sharp is the word with the Muscovite, whose will is to plunder and
spoil,
His covetous eye is on India, and eke on your God-granted soil.
Now while he stands for a moment still, there is only one thing to be
done,
I must send a commission to meet him, to show where your boundaries
run,
And you must promise safe escort (we know what the Afghans are!)
And prove yourself friend to the English, and foe to the Russian Czar.
So choose thou of all my civilians, or choose thou of all my host,
One man to lead the commission, whom ever thou trustest most.
Whom thy tribes have known and trusted, to pass through in safety and
peace,
And so shall thy borders be measured, and our feud with the Russians
shall cease.”
The Afghan Chief wrote answer: “You English are cunning and deep!
But I’d ask if you’ve ever succeeded in catching a weasel asleep?
I know what will come of commissions--just what became of your Embassy,
You harried us well four years ago, and I keep good memory.
Here stands my Cabul city, here I dwell by your favour at rest,
But the tribes of my frontier are evil, and know no respect for a
guest:
If your commission needs a safe escort on the oath of a trusted friend,
I have not the means to protect them. But whom will the Viceroy send?
Wilt thou send the poet, Sir A. F. D., the man who advised the last war?
He is safer, I ween, on the Naini Tal lake than he would be near
Kandahar.
Wilt thou send little Bobs--the Bahadur? He is trusted and honoured, I
know,
But he’s cooling his heels at Ootacamund, and doesn’t seem anxious
to go.
Shall I ask for the man with the ringlets? the virtuous lovely L--p--l,
He is living at home at his ease, writing books, and he has grown a
great swell.
Where is the chief McG----gr to pledge me the word of his clan?
He is there on the pine-clad highlands, a highly-paid, well-placed man.
He is shelved with the rest, all promoted they enjoy the reward of the
great.
Will they come now those I have chosen? I watch for their face and wait,
For the bright light shines on promotion, and dark is the downward
track,
And the Simla hills ring an echo of voices that hold them back.
Let the commission stay on the mountain and start as thy message said,
When the Amir sends a safe escort--when the Kalends of Greece are sped.”
“BALA.”
This effusion is amusing no matter how it scans.
Lord Ripon was also called upon to decide grave questions arising
between British and natives; he embarked at once on a very liberal
policy. In accordance therewith the Vernacular Press Act was
repealed, and among other measures, the so-called Ilbert Bill was
introduced in the Legislative Council, giving native magistrates
the same powers with respect to Europeans and Americans as British
magistrates, but this aroused such a storm of opposition the measure
had to be practically abandoned, Act III of 1884 being a compromise.
Lord William, having acquired a useful knowledge of Indian customs
and feelings, was able to be a great help to Lord Ripon, who, finding
the value of his loyal friend, very shortly appointed him his
Military Secretary.
Major White (later Sir George White, V.C.) of the 92nd Gordon
Highlanders, had been acting in that capacity from the time Lord
Ripon arrived in Bombay, where both he and Lord William Beresford
met His Excellency, but the work of Military Secretary did not
appeal to Major White, who loved soldiering, and was not obliged by
circumstances to do anything else, and feeling thoroughly unsettled
when his old regiment was in Afghanistan, in the thick of the
fighting, at last made up his mind to ask Lord Ripon to spare him for
a time, at any rate, so that he might go and join them. This request
being granted his work had to be carried on temporarily by someone
else. When Major White returned he still felt unsettled, and shortly
afterwards resigned. Major (afterwards Sir John) Ardagh succeeded
him, but did not remain long; then Lord Ripon offered the post to
Lord William, and the great moment in his life had come, he had now
the opportunity of showing the stuff he was made of, a scope for his
talents.
The work of a Military Secretary is not known to everybody, so
I will try and explain it in common or garden English. When any
big machinery is in motion it all looks very easy, but machinery
requires much oiling and constant careful supervision to make it work
satisfactorily.
To be a successful Military Secretary in a viceregal household it is
necessary to be like St. Paul, “all things to all men,” for he comes
in touch with so many different interests, acts as oil to so many
different wheels. It calls heavily on anybody’s tact to carry out the
work without friction. The duties are many and important, for he is
the head of the establishment and controls it. The private accounts
and correspondence are in the hands of the private secretary, all
the rest is in those of the Military Secretary. The A.D.C.’s are
under him, and he arranges what part each one has to play. One may
happen to be musical, he will probably be told off to look after the
band; another may be a connoisseur on omelettes and other appetising
confections, he will be asked to look after the kitchen department.
It will be the duty of one, whoever writes the most plainly, to keep
the visitors’ book, write and send out the invitations; this is no
light undertaking, for Viceroyalty have to entertain a good deal--it
is a part of their duty. Some do it better than others, but all
endeavour to fulfil their obligations.
It is in fact a miniature court and meant to be impressive.
The Military Secretary has four paid A.D.C.’s under him; by that I
mean a staff allowance, which is in addition to their military pay
they may be drawing in the usual way, the staff allowance being
anything between Rps.250 and 400, possibly 500 a month, and of course
they live free. I am speaking of the time that Lord William was
Military Secretary, there may be a different arrangement now.
In addition to the four A.D.C.’s I have mentioned there were usually
two that were honorary.
The popularity of a Viceroy rests in a great measure in the hands
of his Military Secretary, hence the importance of having a man who
understands, and is in touch, with the native princes and people,
who has the table of precedence at his finger-ends, and is pleasing
and courteous to all. Lord William excelled in all this, and one of
the reasons why he was from first to last such a phenomenal success,
was because he left nothing to chance, everything was carefully
thought out, no hurried word of mouth orders, but everything written
or printed and placed in the hands of those it concerned, some time
before the orders and work had to be carried out.
Lord William was one of the old school who saw nothing amusing in
being rude, nothing clever in hurting people’s feelings, and he would
not tolerate anything of the kind amongst his A.D.C.’s.
It is not altogether unknown for young A.D.C.’s attached to the staff
of Government houses to get swelled heads, treating everybody not
in immediate connection with their household as canaille, unless
of course they happened to be globe trotters with handles to their
names, but anything of this kind was quickly suppressed by Lord
William, who was kindly and courteous to all, be they princes,
princesses, subalterns, Bohemians or what nots. Perhaps a little
extra pleasant to a pretty face, and who will blame him?
Speaking of bad manners occasionally witnessed at Government houses
in different countries, I have observed it is a way satellites have
at times; while their superiors, like our Royal Family for instance,
are unsurpassed for graciousness of manner, those in attendance on
them are at times sadly lacking in those amiable qualities. In fact
not only have swelled heads, but have grown too big for their shoes.
One might think such an uncomfortable combination would lead them to
see the error of their ways.
But to return to the Military Secretary and his many duties, which
are enough to make the stoutest heart quake.
The Viceroy not being a soldier, naturally depends a good deal on
him for advice as to military points of view, military law, and so
forth. A really sound man can, and often does, influence the ultimate
decisions of His Excellency, imperceptibly, of course, or his value
would be gone. The work of the Indian Office also filters more or
less through his hands, in fact everything requiring the Viceroy’s
attention, while should there be any difference of opinion between
departments, and any of them thought the Military Secretary was
taking any part, or interfering, there would be fierce indignation
and heart-burnings. So while all these delicate matters are being
brought to the Viceroy’s notice by the Military Secretary, yet he
must appear to know nothing about them, though quite possibly his
advice has been asked.
Amongst other duties he has to map out and be responsible for the
arrangements of all the Viceregal tours in the country, involving the
railway journeys, allotting every hour of time each day and night for
weeks and months ahead. The moving of horses and carriages, servants,
and arranging for everything to be in readiness to meet the viceregal
party at all the places where they are going to stay, the officials
to be informed at each; levees, drawing-rooms, and receptions to be
arranged. The native princes who wish to meet His Excellency have to
be communicated with. Attached to these meetings there is endless
work, as each Rajah has a certain code of etiquettes, a proper number
of guns fired as salutes according to their rank. Some have to be
fetched in state to meet the Viceroy; the Military Secretary, an
aide-de-camp, and at times other officials having to drive to their
palaces and fetch them, taking them back in the same way. These
tours are looked forward to by the princes and big landowners of the
country, as many of them have grievances and schemes to lay before
the representative of the English Royalty.
It is difficult for anyone unversed in Eastern ways to realise
how much depends on the forethought and experience of the person
responsible for all these arrangements. It requires some tact to
carry out all efficiently without a hitch, the least little error,
even a molehill of a hitch, may mean mountains of annoyance and
friction for His Excellency.
In all viceregal movements it is essential that there should be
much dignity and show, plenty of colour and red druggeting. Ritual
and observances are the soul of the people of the East. Established
precedents have to be carefully guarded, a yard or two of less red
cloth than usual might easily be construed into an indignity.
Then there are the presents to be thought of, which it is part of
the Viceroy’s duty to dispense, and there is a certain amount of
work attached to this, as the different political officers in each
district to be visited have to be consulted as to what will be most
suitable, and will meet with the approval of each recipient.
In addition to all this strenuousness, the domestic details fall
to the lot of the Military Secretary; if a handle comes off a door
he must see it is replaced, if a goat instead of a sheep finds its
way on to the dinner table, if the horses fall sick or the coachman
drinks too much tea, if a bath leaks, if more visitors are coming
to stay than there is accommodation for, it is the business of the
Military Secretary to avert inconvenience or disaster, in fact
there must be no inconvenience or disaster, otherwise he is not an
efficient Military Secretary.
In return for all this efficiency the pay of a Military Secretary is
1500 rupees a month, fifteen rupees being equal to £1, making about
twelve hundred a year. In later years something was given in the way
of compensation for the diminished value of the rupee, bringing it to
about £1300 a year, all found, as the servants say.
Not every man possesses the necessary qualifications to enable him to
fill this onerous post, for not only has the Military Secretary to
mother the Viceroy so to speak, but he has to look after, advise and
help Mrs. Viceroy, all the little Viceroys, their maids, governesses,
butlers, coachmen and hangers on.
Lord William filled the post so satisfactorily that he was retained
by three successive Viceroys; this speaks for itself. With the
exception of Lord William I never met a really popular Military
Secretary, there was always the qualifying “but” or “if,” but then
the majority have perhaps had “fish to fry” of their own, which would
bring them into ill favour with aspirants for the same frying-pan. It
seems sad that the days of enthusiastic workers should be embittered
by disappointment because promotion does not come soon enough, or
someone else has forged ahead--then a few short chapters of life and
we find “Finis,” and what has all the striving done for them? all the
heart-burnings? Very soon their names are only blots of ink on pieces
of paper, and probably these are put away in the lumber-room with
other “forgottens.”
One of the refreshing things about Lord Bill was he was entirely
devoid of any fish to fry for himself, he sought no high places,
suffered from none of the discontents or scramblings after promotion
or office that seem to have pervaded the lives of many great men,
if we may judge by what we read of them, so he climbed no ladders
at other people’s expense, pushing them down when arriving at the
top, which gives such grave and not unnatural offence, leaving much
bitterness in the minds and hearts of those who are feeling injured.
The two things in life which seem to cause the most unpleasantness
are jealousy and class-hatred. Lord William disarmed both, it was
not easy to be jealous of a man who asked nothing for himself,
climbed over nobody, and who was so generous he would give away
almost everything he possessed to anyone in need, whose pride of
race only showed itself in honourable straightforwardness and
unswerving singleness of purpose. _No_ class could hate him, he was
hail-fellow-well-met to all, thinking no ill of any man, and having
a clean mind himself was not on the look-out for unpleasantness in
other people. He had learnt that most valuable lesson of how to
handle humanity, which spells success in life.
No doubt there are some people who will say, “Oh! but he was born
with a silver spoon in his mouth, with plenty of relations and
friends to push and help him.” Even supposing for the sake of the
argument we allow that, does anybody imagine that if Lord William
had been unsatisfactory or incapable he would have been Military
Secretary for so many years? and not to one Viceroy but to three,
all of whom probably held more or less conflicting views, likes and
dislikes, each one in turn passing through anxious times and moments
of perplexity, yet all without exception spoke of him in terms of
great appreciation and affection.
Many have obtained good posts, not all have kept them.
Amongst all the successful personages I can think of, there are none
who have had so few jealous enemies as Lord William Beresford.
Unfortunately everyone who has anything to do with that noble animal,
the horse, comes in for a certain amount of criticism and occasional
abuse; it appears to be the inevitable or natural sequence of events.
CHAPTER VII
EARLY RACING EXPERIENCES
First Racing Partnership--Some Successful Horses--The “White
Mutiny”--Military Secretaries Come and Go--Fleur-de-lys’
Affection--Racing--Paperchasing--An Exciting Drive--Ponto’s
Admiration for the Fair Sex--Inverarm--How a Sick Soldier
Fared--Love of Children--A Children’s Party and How it Ended--The
Home for Lost Dogs--Simla Gymkhanas--A Sore Head--A Change of
Mounts--Sipi Fair and Marriage Market--What Some of Lord William’s
Friends Said--Why he was like King Solomon
Early in 1880 Lord William and his friend, Mr. Monty Stewart, joined
hands, forming a racing partnership, and their horse Warrego won
the St. Leger at the Umballa meeting. They had also purchased Kate
Coventry for 5000 rupees, a big sum for those days. She won the Grand
Annual the very next day for them, which was encouraging. At the same
meeting Gazelle won the Pony Handicap, Warrego the Trials, and Oliver
Twist the Selling Race. On the last day’s racing Oliver Twist rather
upset the public’s and everybody else’s calculations by defeating his
own stable companion Warrego, who was favourite.
[Illustration:
_Photo. Rouch, Straua_
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD’S HORSE DEMOCRAT]
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD LEADING KATE COVENTRY, RIDDEN
BY DEWING. CALCUTTA, 1881]
At Lahore Kate Coventry won the Maiden Chase, Pompey the Dwarf Chase,
Lielle the Arab and Country-bred Handicap, Ronaleyn the All-horse
Handicap, and Potboy the Pony Handicap, not a bad performance. Lord
William now engaged Ryder as his trainer and jockey; he had been
successful for Baboo Mohini Mohun Doss of Dacca.
At Dumdum Kate Coventry won the Handicap Chase as well as another
race. After this, luck seemed to desert the combined stable, though
Kate Coventry still played up nobly, winning the Ballygunge Cup, and
Lawyer the Trial Chase Cup. At Deccan, Pot Boy and Lawyer also won a
race or two.
Then came the Umballa Autumn Meeting, where their luck was so
crushing Lord William vowed he would get rid of the lot of his
horses, and advertised the majority for sale. He may have deceived
himself through disappointment, but nobody else thought for a moment
he would be able to live without racing, in taking which view they
were correct, for in July, 1881, he purchased Camballa and Western
Princess through the dealer and importer known by the name of Teddy
Weekes. Luck seemed once more to be returning, for at the October
meeting at Dehra Fleur-de-Lys won over the hurdles, Kate Coventry the
Himalayan Chase, and Warrego the Corinthian Stakes, while Probably,
a country-bred pony, showed the way in the Gimcrack Stakes. Again at
Umballa the good Kate Coventry, Fleur-de-Lys and Probably also each
won a race.
Lord William was now recognised as a rising racing man, and as one
come to stay. He began to do great things when the Government moved
down to Calcutta for the cold weather of 1881-2. His new purchase
Camballa, a black Waler gelding, began well by winning the Viceroy’s
Cup, steered by Ryder. I see in an old paper of that time “the
unpopular Governor-General was not present to see his cup run for.”
It will be remembered I have already pointed out the reason of Lord
Ripon’s unpopularity with his own countrymen, though never was a
Viceroy so loved by the natives, into whose hands he played all the
time, no doubt thinking it would lead to future good, but causing
at the time dread and consternation amongst Europeans. Whether his
scheme of equalisation between the races has been a success or not I
leave to my readers to decide, though perhaps it is still early days
to say definitely one way or the other. Certainly, if we may judge by
the way India has assisted us in our present struggle, we should feel
inclined to think it had, but it is necessary to look a little beyond
our noses, and think what may be expected in return--the _quid pro
quo_.
I do not suppose Lord Ripon troubled much as to whether he was
popular or not, he was there to do the best for the country and
its people, according to his light, after that it must be left in
the lap of the gods. The public opinion I have heard expressed of
the Viceroys during the time Lord William was on the staff ran as
follows--that Lord Lytton was charming, hard-working, and that
his work would live long after him; Lord Ripon unpopular, as it
was thought he would make life impossible for the white man in
the country owing to his enormous sympathy with the natives; Lord
Dufferin, popular but left a great deal in the hands of his private
secretary; Lord Lansdowne, universally popular, and Lady Lansdowne
especially so. These being the only Governor-Generals under whom
Lord William served I need go no further. He spoke of them all
with affection and gratitude, saying he had received “the greatest
kindness from all officially and individually.” I must confess when
he said this I felt much as I do when parents say they love all their
children alike, which cannot be in the least true; they may love them
all, but it must be in different ways and degrees, so I think Lord
William felt, if he had spoken literally, he had affection for all
his chiefs but in different ways and degrees.
Even Viceroys have a good deal to “put up with.” First and foremost
they have to act on orders from home, after which, if the measures
do not prove successful or satisfactory, the blame of course falls
on the Viceroy’s head; then when settling down and getting into
his stride, finding help and comfort in some of his staff--say the
Military Secretary, that office bringing the individual more closely
into association with him than the rest, forming an important part of
his daily life--it has not been unknown for one Military Secretary
after another to find that their health will not stand the strain,
or that they wish to return to their regiment, another has married
a wife who will not live in India and so on, so resignation follows
on resignation, leaving the unhappy Viceroy in a constant state of
explanations and instructions to new-comers, and with nobody to lean
on, while possibly feeling anxious over work of which he has had no
previous experience and hardly knows where to turn to find someone
who does. Occasionally, perhaps, Viceroy and members of the staff
find “incompatibility” a reason for divorce.
The cold weather of 1881-2 proved to the Beresford-Stewart partners
that they had a good thing in their new purchase Camballa, besides
winning the Viceroy’s Cup, he also won the Burdwarn Cup. Many
people speculated as to this horse’s lasting powers, as he stood
rather straight on his pasterns, and in India the ground is very
hard. However, he did all that was required of him, caused no
disappointment, and then was sold again at no loss, so was not a bad
bargain. Lord William also won a race himself on Alien; his pretty
little Australian mare Fleur-de-Lys, which he had bought from Mr.
Abbott, the Tirhoot planter, also won the Tom Thumb Stakes for him.
This little mare was charming as well as pretty, and as intelligent
as a dog. She had a great affection for her syce, who had been her
close companion from the time she arrived in India, and her owner
used to give his friends little exhibitions of her affection at
times. He would hide the syce somewhere, and then let Fleur-de-Lys
loose out of her stable, telling the man to call her, while he kept
dodging about hiding from her, but she always found him in spite of
all the dodging, whinnying with pleasure when she came up to him.
If anyone caught hold of the syce and pretended to beat him and he
howled, the mare would go straight for whoever it was she supposed
was hurting her friend and companion, would savage and trample on
the offender if she could get at him. So great was her affection for
her syce that it was unnecessary when moving about the country to
put a bit into her mouth, for she would follow him anywhere. She was
eventually sold amongst others to the Prince of Jodhpore, where she
would be well cared for.
Warrego was now the property of the Beresford-Stewart stable, and
won the two mile Durbangah Cup for them. Camballa beat several good
horses for the Merchants’ Cup, proving himself _the_ horse of the
year.
At the end of the cold weather 1881-2 Mr. Stewart was obliged to
leave India and go home owing to ill-health.
Kate Coventry was still going strong and doing wonders, winning the
Ballygunge Cup, and again later in the year the Grand Annual, at
Lucknow, Ryder in the saddle. After this meeting Ryder was sent to
England to buy some horses for Lord William.
The Autumn Meeting at Dehra Doon was very poor, the unsatisfactory
settling after their last meeting had made people a little shy, many
declaring it was not worth while running their horses under the
circumstances; another reason, I think, being the course was not in
very good order, but none of these things troubled Lord William,
though now I come to think of it he certainly rode other people’s
horses, and did not run any of his own, as far as I can remember.
The Umballa Autumn Meeting was not a great success either, owing to
much the same reason. The rules regarding betting were a trifle lax,
but Ryder, who had returned from England, rode an Australian horse
named Blackthorn for Lord William, winning the Sirhind Derby, also
several other races; but Island King, a horse Ryder had brought back
with him, had a terrible fall when running for the Cup, and had to be
put out of his pain.
Paperchases were much in vogue in India during the cold weather.
In Calcutta they were very popular, large fields collecting, but
eventually they became little short of steeplechases. A number of
women used to ride in them, and go right well, but so many who joined
in the chase were given to racing it became a little dangerous, as
will be readily grasped by anyone who has been closely followed
either in the hunting field or in a paper-chase by a racing man,
who may, and at times does, forget all about waiting his turn at a
fence, and just pushes and rushes wherever he sees a chance, quite
regardless of consequences. What matter whose face they trample on so
long as they get there!
There were some great chase riders in those days, Captain David
Papillon, Colonel Oliver Probyn, with his one arm, Lord William
Beresford, and that good sort Mr. Sydney Hartwell of the Oude and
Roulicund Railway. What nerve that man had! I remember a wonderful
grey roan pony he drove, with a knee as big as an apple dumpling,
the result of one of his many accidents, arising from the fact that
he was almost impossible to hold. I doubt if many people would have
cared to drive the gee. Mr. Hartwell was a strong man, yet it took
him all his time to hold this handsome quadruped. He was like a
miniature carthorse, and exceedingly fast. An extra pair of reins
were always buckled on to the bit and rested under a clip on the
dashboard in case of the first lot giving way under the strain. The
traces generally dangled loose, the whole cart and contents, no
matter what weight, being pulled from the bit and reins.
Several times I was asked if I would like to risk my life behind
this steed, and gladly consented, as Mr. Hartwell was a first-rate
whip and most cheery companion. It was arranged during one of these
drives that we should meet Lord William on the Lucknow Racecourse to
see a pony he thought would suit me, put over the jumps. We arrived
safely at the appointed spot, Mr. Hartwell put me down and took the
pony and cart a little distance away to wait until we were ready, the
pony raising no objection to standing. After the matter of trying the
pony Lord William thought would suit me, it was agreed that both Mr.
Hartwell and Lord Bill should come back and refresh at our bungalow,
his lordship said he would jump up behind us on the cart; he received
the same instructions as myself, namely, to nip in quick, the moment
our Jehu took hold of the reins; this was safely accomplished by both
of us, and off we shot like a rocket. The syce in his anxiety to
give the place of honour behind to Lord Bill, did not leave himself
quite enough foothold, and was shot off at the first rear and bound
given by the pony, given just to express pleasure at being on the
move again. Mr. Hartwell was the only person or thing in the cart
retaining a firm and upright position, Lord William was heard to
say “By Jove,” I was speechless shuffling back into my seat trying
to look as if I had never left it, the syce I heard later was last
seen tearing frantically in rear of the cart, after falling flat on
his face and losing his puggery, which was flying out in yards and
streams behind him as he ran trying to re-wind it round his head. I
was too busy holding on to turn my head to see what had happened to
anybody.
After this preliminary all went well, as we proceeded to drive
round the course to have a look at the pony jumps, the grey roan
flinging himself along delightfully though keeping us in a state
of expectancy, when my lord and master, who had been on duty and
delayed, therefore not able to be present at the trial of the new
pony, came galloping up in hot haste to overtake us. This was the
signal evidently to the roan that a race was on, it was really
thrilling, and instead of going straight home as we had intended
after inspecting the jumps, we were raced round the racecourse at
top speed about three-quarters of the way, then on one wheel were
hurruished down an awkward dip and carried like birds through the
Barrack Square, then on through a mango tope, where Lord William
disappeared. Various people who saw us _en route_ were pleased to be
funny about our appearance, and one or two sketches were made, in one
of which Lord William was supposed to be holding me on to the seat,
but looked much more as if trying to sit on my head.
I regret much that in the course of my travels a book full of such
souvenirs has unaccountably disappeared. Eventually Mr. Hartwell got
the pony in hand, and thanks to his brilliant driving I was landed
at our bungalow to find Lord William and my spouse complacently
refreshing themselves in the verandah. Lord William said he and a
bucket, which appeared from under the seat somewhere, were tipped out
under the mango trees while we were being carried over what looked
like a newly filled-in grave.
Mr. Alfred Abbott was another great chase rider; he was seldom seen
without a cigar in his mouth, and died with one between his teeth on
the Barrackpore Racecourse; and many more old friends of Lord William
and mine, in fact it would be easy to fill many books with the doings
of old friends of that period.
Young and old took part in these paper-chases, Sir George White with
grey hairs when Commander-in-Chief, and youths with growing down on
their upper lip. One very noticeable thing about people in India is
the way they keep young in spite of their years, taking part and
interest in all that is going on, old ladies and gentlemen dance
until the early hours with the best of the young ones, ride races,
play tennis and racquets, in fact everything that is going.
One year Lord William offered a prize for a Ladies’ Steeplechase over
the Calcutta Racecourse. There were many competitors, some coming
from a distance to show what they could do.
When Lord William presented the prize of a beautiful silver inkstand
to the winner, who happened to be a Mrs. Somebody he did not know, he
expressed the hope that she would find it useful and persuade her to
write long letters to her husband. This was unfortunate, as the lady
and her husband had agreed to part. It was a most unusual thing for
Lord Bill to make a _faux pas_.
The Simla Season of 1882 passed much in the usual way, a round of
social gatherings and festivities. One character I must not fail to
introduce to you, namely, Ponto, Lord William’s poodle; he appears
in many photographs, and so he ought, being quite a personage; he
lived with his master after he became Military Secretary in quite a
palatial house called “Inverarm,” standing on the hill, not far from
the Viceregal Lodge.
Ponto and his master were inseparable; there were times of course
when he was not wanted which he failed to realise or appreciate, and
in spite of the efforts of those who had instructions to keep him at
home, searched Simla until he located his master, sitting proudly
outside the door until he put in an appearance. Once Lord William
left the house he was visiting by a different route, and Ponto sat on
far into another day, when he was remonstrated with by the inhabitant
of the bungalow at whose door he sat.
On another occasion Ponto broke away from custody and turned up in
church at Simla during a marriage service; the church was very full,
but Ponto managed to squeeze his way through amongst the multitude of
legs, and gave a brisk “Wuff” of delighted greeting when he located
his master. This affection at times was embarrassing, but as he meant
it all in good part his master was obliged to accept it in the same
spirit, while vowing he would find some other means of keeping Ponto
at home. Both the latter and his master had many things in common,
both admired beauty; if Lord William was sitting at luncheon and said
in the usual conversational voice, “There goes a pretty girl,” Ponto
would be up and off in a moment, on to a chair to gaze right and
left out of the window, or to the door, to look out for the pretty
girl. This was always a sure draw for Ponto, and used to amuse Lord
William, showing him off.
Inverarm was like a museum for its many trophies of the chase and
sport generally. Tables groaned under cups and beautiful silver.
Some of Lord Bill’s silver bowls were remarkable for their delicate
workmanship; he used often to lend them to people giving parties
when they wanted to make a little splash. Indeed, so interesting and
comfortable was the house that whenever there was an overflow from
the Viceregal Lodge, which was not infrequent, Peterhoff being very
circumscribed, the extra guests were put up at Inverarm.
One day when riding along the Mall, Lord William saw a doolie being
carried along with a sick man inside; he asked the bearers who was
inside, and being told a cavalry officer from the plains, and hearing
they were going to take the invalid to an hotel, he told them to go
straight to Inverarm, and escorted them to it, keeping the sick man
until well again, doing everything possible for his comfort and to
expedite his recovery. The individual in question was the present Sir
Robert Baden-Powell, at that time in the 13th Hussars, now father of
that most important and valuable institution the Boy Scouts.
No season either in Simla or Calcutta was allowed to pass without the
children being catered for; the parties the Military Secretary gave
for them were amongst the most delightful and eagerly looked forward
to by the young folk, who all adored Lord Bill; he in his turn adored
them. The vocabulary of children is so small and yet so sufficing.
Bairns are very dramatic little persons, and their patois delightful.
He would at any time give up an engagement for his own pleasure to go
and amuse a sick child, telling them stories, taking them presents
and flowers, and always being robbed of the one in his button-hole.
He used to have great confidences and secrets with them, which
children always enjoy. One small boy who had broken his leg and was
much devoted to his delicate mother, wanted to give her something on
her birthday as a great surprise, and could not make up his mind what
it should be, as his saved pennies were not excessive. For days Lord
William made suggestions, none of which were favoured, some being too
costly, others she would not care for. Each visit Lord William paid
he had some fresh list of suggestions. If the boy had decided on an
elephant Lord Bill would have said he was sure he could get one for
the money and procured it; but at last the boy had decided in his own
mind, and joyfully told Lord William, saying, “I have found out what
mother would like; it is a book she often reads. It got spoilt with
the white ants eating it, and I want to give her another.”
“That is capital,” said Lord William; “what is the name of the book
and who is it by, I mean who wrote it?”
“Oh, I don’t know that,” replied his little friend, looking rather
dismayed, “I think it is called _Infernal Hope_, but I don’t know who
wrote it.”
“Never mind, little man, I will soon find out, don’t worry, it is a
funny name, but I will soon get it for you. If I write to a man I
know who keeps a big book shop, he will be sure to know and send it
at once.”
Lord William made a point of finding out from another member of the
family what the book was without giving away his little friend’s
secret. It was Archdeacon Farrer’s _Eternal Hope_, and it arrived
duly in a beautiful cover in time to give pleasure to both the little
invalid and his mother.
Some years after this, when I was giving a children’s party at home
in England, Lord Bill asked, “May this child come, please?” Of course
I replied I should be charmed, and certainly the children were;
I never saw bairns enjoy themselves more. He pretended he was an
elephant at the Zoo, and allowed them to sit all over him while he
travelled about on all fours giving them rides, then pretending to
fall down and roll with them. When he thought they were tired of this
he crawled under the table in the dining-room and pretended he was a
bear in a cage, and had to be fed by the children through the bars
formed by the legs of the chairs arranged around him.
After the last happy child had gone home, Lord William and my
youngest brother, who had likewise been assisting, feeling rather
limp and exhausted, suggested they would like a wash and brush up.
After this operation both were due at opposite ends of London; it
was pouring with rain, and there seemed to be a scarcity of cabs.
The servants whistled until they were nearly black in the face, as
my brother expressed it; at last they succeeded in attracting the
attention of one hansom; then each man was too polite to take the cab
from the other, and as they were going in opposite directions they
could not share it. My brother told Lord William to jump in and he
would find one for himself, or wait with me until another arrived.
Lord William would not agree to this, and told my brother to jump in.
It ended in their struggling fiercely in the street, each trying to
put the other into the cab. The cabby at first looked on in awe and
wonderment; he was anxious to keep the cab dry, and each time one
of the strugglers was nearly deposited in the cab, up would go the
glass, then as they subsided for a fresh effort on the pavement down
went the glass again, as the cabby saw all was not decided. He was
now entering into the spirit of the game, and settled down to watch
and be ready to receive the missile when it eventually arrived.
By this time another cab had turned up, but nobody took the least
notice of it. A small crowd of wet errand boys had collected to watch
the fun, and I was momentarily expecting a policeman to appear on the
scenes and take them both into custody.
At last Lord William won the day, and from behind the curtains in
the dining-room window I saw my bruised and shin-barked brother
chucked into the cab while in response to the cabman’s “Where to?”
Lord William replied, “Home for lost dogs, and drive like the devil.”
Needless to say neither my brother nor Lord William looked like
paying visits after this romp; their hats had been knocked off and
clapped on again by the servants, and small boys looking on, only to
roll off once more. Ties had waltzed round, and were looking out from
unaccustomed places, collars looked shy and drooping; but I am flying
too far ahead; and the Simla Gymkhanas require and deserve a little
space before passing on.
The subject of these memories was always full of new ideas for
the amusement of Simla. Amongst other races he organised, was the
Victoria Cross Race, which was exciting, the idea being that each
rider had to place a dummy figure of sorts lying on the ground or in
some perilous position, the riders would then have to ride as hard
as ever they could over certain jumps, pick up the figure, and bring
it back over more jumps into safety, just as if they were trying to
save life. These figures were often really well got up, one perhaps
dressed as an ayah, another as a child, a soldier, war correspondent,
and so on. It was most amusing to watch the struggles while picking
up the figures and remounting again. During one of these races Lord
William elected to rescue a war correspondent who was supposed to be
wounded. He succeeded in picking him up, and was coming over the last
fence with him in great style, when a post, which had no business
to have been left where it was, caught Lord William on the head, or
his head came in contact with the post, giving him a nasty wound,
which bled profusely and caused him to lose the race, but the rescued
correspondent came in useful, as he helped to mop up the gore. Lord
William swore he was none the worse, but must surely have had a very
sore head.
Another invention from the same brain was the cigar race. The riders
had to start, go over some of the jumps, then change mounts. It was
arranged beforehand whom they would change with, it had to be one
that had started in the race; then light a cigar, remount quickly,
and finish the race with the cigar still alight. This was essential.
The agitation was great when the matches would not light, their
heads broke off, or the ponies objected, some of which saw no fun in
it and declined to wait and see the rest.
Then for another change the ponies and their riders had to jump
through big paper hoops after the fashion of circus entertainments.
This race generally led to merriment, as the ponies did not care
for the game, and ran in every direction to avoid the ordeal. The
umbrella race was a good one. Riders had to be mounted on their own
ponies, which they had to saddle themselves, when a bell was rung,
then open an umbrella, which had to be carried open over the jumps.
The opening of the umbrella generally caused trouble.
The race for people who had never ridden in one before was usually
comic; elderly sportsmen and timid youths were persuaded or goaded
into entering, and it provided all sorts of novel conditions and
situations.
Riding up from one of these gymkhanas on a newly purchased pony,
which had seemed to me very quiet and suitable to narrow paths and
hill-climbing, it suddenly turned nasty on hearing the clatter of a
horse coming up hurriedly behind him, promptly laid his ears back and
turned his tail over the side of the khud, while I had the unpleasant
experience of hearing loose stones and earth giving way under his
feet and rattling down hundreds of feet below. I thought I had seen
my last gymkhana. I leaned as far forward as I possibly could, to
keep my weight off his quarters and give him a chance, for he was
beginning to think he had done something foolish, and was scrambling
to keep foothold with his fore feet, when Lord William, whose
horse’s clatter had caused the outbreak of displeasure on the part
of my mount, came to the rescue, and seizing me more or less by the
hair of my head landed me safely, the pony slipped down a little way,
but got entangled in some bushes, and so gave time to several kindly
helpers who rescued him. Lord William then insisted on our saddles
being changed, as he would not hear of my riding the wicked pony
any more; I therefore had a charming beast of his to take me home,
while he taught mine a lesson. When he turned up later he told me he
thought the pony must have been drugged when I bought it, as it was a
nasty, vicious brute, and had tried to crush his legs against first a
tree and then some railings after I had left him with it.
The fair held once a year at Sipi, a few miles outside Simla, was
usually a day of extra festivities. Lord William’s picnics there were
most enjoyable, being arranged and managed as everything he undertook
was managed, with forethought for everybody’s comfort. His organising
powers were extraordinary, while his peculiarly gracious and courtly
manner added charm to all the functions he arranged. Even in the
matter of food everyone’s particular taste was catered for.
With the exception perhaps of Sir Spencer Ponsonby Fane, I never met
anyone with such a talent for organising State functions and great
occasions as Lord William, and certainly the latter was the more
popular and caused less offence than his old friend did at times.
The road from Simla to Sipi is just a pleasant distance for a ride,
but along the edge of precipices and through an alarming dark tunnel,
which is quite exciting if riding a quarrelsome horse, for in the
darkness you often meet a crowd of ponies being driven through with
big bundles on their backs. They are usually being driven through
by pedestrian natives. The situation at times lends itself to some
mix-ups and chatter.
The surrounding tribal women gather themselves together, decked
out in all their best, some with a view to finding suitable mates,
others to sell their jewellery and gew-gaws. The Thibetan women often
realise big prices for their turquoise and silver ornaments. It is
a great day amongst the hill tribes for exchange and barter, indeed
sales of all sorts.
There is also ceremony attached to this fair, as some of their gods
are brought to shower blessings on all the chosen ones. Such curious
figures some of these deities possess, they baffle description,
being quaint figures, half man, half beast, half nothing. Some do
not possess any legs, others we presume have, but are clothed in
mysterious garments, leaving much to the imagination. One year
Lord William gave his picnic in a villa built there by an Italian
confectioner, which sounds strange in the Himalayan mountains
surrounded by Thibetan females and other hill tribes. We also must
have looked a little out of place, indeed I think we always do look
out of place in the gorgeous colour-loving East.
Lord William was the life and soul of Simla, and exceedingly popular
with everybody. One of his most charming traits, and one which I
admired much, was his gentle, polite manner to natives. Once young
Englishmen arriving from home considered it fine and grand to be
rude and rough to natives when they were stupid, and made mistakes,
which very often arose from their own ignorance of the language, and
therefore being unable to express themselves intelligibly; I have
heard a young subaltern saying he had saddled his pony, when what
he wished to say was the syce was to do so, the young man’s grammar
being defective, for which the natives had to suffer. Lord William
was most particular in giving his orders to see they were understood,
and gave them in a clear polite way which was most refreshing;
naturally the natives loved him, would do anything for “Lord Brasspot
Sahib.”
Many of his friends said he was a great loss to the Service. Once
when a great friend of his was walking round Jakko (the only decent
road round on one side of Simla, a sort of continuation of the Mall)
with General Sir George Chesney, who wrote that clever book _The
Battle of Dorking_, Lord William rode by at a gallop, taking his
hat off to Sir George in a way quite peculiar to himself; it always
seemed to imply so much, respect, affection, compliment, pleasure at
seeing you, and everything else of the kind, leaving each individual
feeling comfortable and pleased. As he passed, Sir George, who was
walking with one of the members of the staff and as already stated
an old friend of Lord William’s, turned to his companion remarking,
“There goes a leader of men. Instead of being Military Secretary to
the Viceroy he ought to be commanding a cavalry brigade; he would be
unequalled at that work, always supposing he was not turned out of
the service for disobedience to orders.”
Another friend, a clever lady of that time at Simla, speaking of Lord
William’s character generally, said, “It is not Bill’s cleverness or
quickness to grasp the situation, but what he has got in an eminent
degree is what Solomon had. I have always thought that Solomon’s
great wisdom was much exaggerated, and that what he really had in
pre-eminence, and Bill has too, is tact, doing the right thing at the
right time. For instance ... it was not Solomon’s great knowledge
that bamboozled the Queen of Sheba, but knowing when she wanted a
foot-stool!”
CHAPTER VIII
LORD RIPON LEAVES INDIA
Arrangements for Entertaining Visitors--Lord de Grey’s Shooting--A
Good-looking Staff--A Fancy Ball--The Baby cries--Lord William
Feeds the Infant--Singing Quadrilles--Pig-sticking--The Tent Club
and Its Members--A Case of Mistaken Identity--The Reputation
Match--Lord William Resolves to Give Up Racing--Lord Ripon’s
Farewell
During Lord Ripon’s time in India a number of people came out from
home to stay with him, some wishing to combine a visit to their
friends with shooting, pig-sticking and globe-trotting. This kept
Lord William busy, as he had to make all the arrangements for their
comfort, and where they were to stay, when the Viceregal Lodge was
full, which was generally the case. Occasionally he turned out of his
own house for guests, searched for suitable bungalows for others,
making everybody comfortable and yet without the least apparent
effort. Rajahs were communicated with, and shoots arranged; horses
were found to suit the various riders, chosen in accordance to their
prowess, programmes made out for each day, and printed instructions
sent on ahead, so that all was in readiness at each halting place,
carriages, horses, servants, food, sport and all the heart of man
could desire.
The happy relations existing between Lord William and the Native
Princes made this easier for him than it might have been for many.
The present Marquess of Ripon, then Lord de Grey, came to stay with
his father, and was anxious to have some big game shooting. He is, as
everybody knows, one of the best shots in England. His game card from
1867 to 1891 gives some idea of his skill and the sport provided. I
think the years 1880 and 1882 were the years he was shooting in India.
GAME KILLED FROM 1867 TO 1891.
(Part 1 of 2)
======================================================================
Rhinoceros Buffalo Pig Red Deer Partridge
Date Tiger S??? Deer Grouse Pheasants
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1867 8 265 1.179 741
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1868 35 201 1.418 1.601
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1869 35 135 1.659 1.431
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1870 21 498 2.308 2.117
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1871 55 1.408 1.598 1.889
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1872 38 1.498 2.083 2.835
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1873 25 248 2.417 3.050
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1874 3 5 90 2.878 2.345
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1875 3 287 2.882 3.225
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1876 3 1.554 3.394 4.110
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1877 2 4 2.032 2.359 4.235
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1878 4 9 1.669 3.378 4.679
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1879 4 1.344 630 3.140
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1880 9 6 18 31 73 12 1.131 682 531
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1881 5 1.566 3.465 5.014
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1882 2 2 6 1 66 104 10 3.025 2.123 2.370
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1883 5 2.896 1.845 6.119
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1884 10 3.073 3.523 4.347
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1885 5 2.015 2.788 4.620
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1886 20 1.989 1.463 3.383
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1887 57 2.258 3.785 3.387
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1888 4 3.060 853 5.072
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1889 5 3.081 5.751 6.182
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1890 2.006 7.002 6.498
----------------------------------------------------------------------
1891 2.277 1.699 5.794
======================================================================
2 11 12 19 97 186 378 39.606 63.163 88.715
(Part 2 of 2)
==================================================================
Wood Cock Wild Duck Capercai- Rabbits Total
Date Snipe Black Game llies K??? Various
------------------------------------------------------------------
1867 20 22 10 -- -- 719 934 115 4.013
------------------------------------------------------------------
1868 28 67 23 -- -- 690 543 113 4.719
------------------------------------------------------------------
1869 26 133 37 -- -- 547 443 122 4.568
------------------------------------------------------------------
1870 36 53 30 -- -- 893 626 137 6.660
------------------------------------------------------------------
1871 50 244 42 -- -- 1.093 341 225 6.945
------------------------------------------------------------------
1872 27 60 31 -- -- 1.108 756 235 8.671
------------------------------------------------------------------
1873 95 263 85 -- -- 1.027 450 591 8.231
------------------------------------------------------------------
1874 229 462 131 5 4 1.200 302 1.200 8.854
------------------------------------------------------------------
1875 176 461 208 -- -- 1.376 576 743 9.937
------------------------------------------------------------------
1876 30 25 37 -- -- 1.248 890 266 11.557
------------------------------------------------------------------
1877 35 45 33 11 11 1.496 1.044 309 11.616
------------------------------------------------------------------
1878 43 44 55 5 6 2.152 667 503 13.214
------------------------------------------------------------------
1879 132 92 62 9 11 1.125 287 215 7.051
------------------------------------------------------------------
1880 9 47 54 26 5 501 141 408 3.684
------------------------------------------------------------------
1881 26 14 43 -- -- 1.058 797 166 12.154
------------------------------------------------------------------
1882 14 21 44 -- -- 464 1.122 117 9.491
------------------------------------------------------------------
1883 157 84 155 -- -- 918 1.386 319 13.884
------------------------------------------------------------------
1884 134 70 70 -- -- 713 1.896 453 14.289
------------------------------------------------------------------
1885 104 23 31 -- -- 589 2.547 108 12.830
------------------------------------------------------------------
1886 105 87 72 -- -- 357 786 349 8.611
------------------------------------------------------------------
1887 104 3 12 -- -- 415 2.328 237 12.586
------------------------------------------------------------------
1888 31 151 10 -- -- 307 1.523 85 11.096
------------------------------------------------------------------
1889 100 109 14 38 8 1.747 1.069 135 18.239
------------------------------------------------------------------
1890 172 105 28 -- -- 1.446 1.120 123 18.500
------------------------------------------------------------------
1891 34 13 -- -- -- 711 406 271 11.205
==================================================================
1.917 2.698 1.317 94 45 23.840 22.980 7.543 252.625
LORD DE GREY’S GAME CARD FROM 1867-91
Amongst others who came out were Lord and Lady Wenlock, Lady Charles
Beresford, and later their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess
of Connaught.
[Illustration: GROUP AT BARRACKPORE ON THE LAWN
_Left to right. Standing_: Lady Downe (the late); Mr Primrose
(now Right Hon. Sir Henry), Lord Alwyne Compton (the late); Dr.
Anderson (Viceroy’s Medical attendant); (next figure not known to
author); Lord Downe, Capt. Deane, 17th Lancers; possible Sir Maurice
Fitzgerald; but uncertain; Capt. Poe, I believe; Lord William
Beresford. _Seated_: Lord Ripon, H.R.H. Duchess of Connaught, H.R.H.
Duke of Connaught, Lady Ripon. _On ground_: Capt. Rochfort (now Sir
Alex., Governor of Jersey), Capt. the Hon. Charles Harbord (now Lord
Suffield)]
Lord William found a pleasant bungalow, not far from the Viceregal
Lodge, for Lady Wenlock, while her husband was away shooting, and she
spent a good deal of time sketching. Being of an artistic temperament
she delighted in the scenery and colouring, finding endless
opportunities to practise her art--plenty of work for her brush. Yet
at times the colouring is so superb it defies all efforts of speech
or brush.
Picture the hill-sides one blaze of rhododendrons, sheets of them
leading down to green valleys, where after the rains maidenhair ferns
and wild orchids cling lovingly to the branches of the trees, on
the ground, carpets of little white flowers resembling our lily of
the valley, but lacking its scent, in the distance blue mountains,
behind these purple mountains, behind these again snow-clad peaks,
a brilliant sun shining over all, framing pictures that remain in
memory for life, and yet there are times when the very splendour of
it seizes us with a limitless despair. In these few beautiful moments
when the sun, symbol of deity in the East, is bidding us good-night,
changing all round from rose to red, orange to turquoise, leaving
a tiny twilight, and the day is gone, hidden away behind a mist of
grey. And we think--but no, we will not think, we will go dress for
the “Poggle Khana” or fools’ dance, as the natives call a fancy dress
ball. But of these more later.
I wish to introduce my readers to a group of people taken about this
time. All the men are members of the Viceregal Staff. Lady Wenlock
is in the centre, handsome Lord Alwyne Compton (died in 1911) is seen
sitting behind her; he was one of the A.D.C.’s. When not on duty he
had an affection for a brown velveteen coat and yellow button-hole,
which suited him exceedingly well, his hair, eyes and skin, being
almost Italian looking. Lord William, Military Secretary, is on
Lady Wenlock’s left, and beside him sits Lady Charles Beresford,
his sister-in-law. Then comes Mr. Primrose, Private Secretary to
the Viceroy (now the Right Hon. Sir Henry Primrose). On the extreme
left is Capt. St. Quinten, another good looking young man, who was a
favourite A.D.C. in the viceregal household. Sitting at Lady Charles
Beresford’s feet is Capt. Clough Taylor, who hailed from the same
county as the Ripons, he also was A.D.C. His wife, Lady Elizabeth
Clough Taylor (died in 1896) is sitting on Lady Wenlock’s right.
Behind her stands the Hon. Miss Lawley. Sitting at Lady Elizabeth’s
feet is Capt. Muir, A.D.C. (now Colonel) and Commander of the Body
Guard. In the arm-chair below Miss Lawley is the Hon. Charles
Harbord, A.D.C. (now Lord Suffield), and next to him Capt. Rochfort,
A.D.C. (now Sir Alex. Rochfort, Governor of Jersey).
It will be observed their Excellencies liked good looking men on
their staff.
[Illustration: STAFF AND GUESTS AT VICEREGAL LODGE, SIMLA
_Left to right_: Capt. Rochfort (now Sir Alex. Rochfort, Governor
of Jersey); Honble. Miss Lawley, Capt. Harbord (now Lord Suffield),
Lady Elizabeth Clough-Taylor, Lord Alwyne Compton, Lady Wenlock, Lord
William Beresford, Lady Charles Beresford, Mr. Primrose, Captain St.
Quinten
_On ground, left to right_: Capt. Muir and Capt. Clough-Taylor]
Now I am anxious to tell you about the fancy dress balls.
Some of the dresses worn in India on these occasions are marvellous,
people out there seem to take much greater pains to do the thing
properly, and there have been many anxious moments in case the
dresses should not arrive from Paris or England in time. One fancy
dress ball I remember as being particularly amusing, but it was not
at Simla. Lord William appeared as a Chelsea Pensioner, and was quite
excellent. A good looking woman, wife of an Artilleryman, was “A
Wasp”; she naturally had a tiny waist. The wondrous dress with its
stripy bands of yellow, black gauze wings, and the little antennae in
her head, all well carried out, but the wings made dancing difficult,
so she sat in a corner with the Chelsea Pensioner a good deal. The
poor old Pensioner did not like much light--it hurt his poor old
eyes. But the chief joke of the evening was when a big hefty hospital
nurse carried into the ballroom a very lusty looking big red-faced
baby, with a distinctly blue line along the upper lip. A white
rosette-adorned cap tied under his chin, a short white frock reaching
a little below his knees which stuck out all round from the amount of
material it contained, which, however, helped to support a big blue
sash, matching the shoulder knots; frilled kicksey-wickseys, white
socks and sandal shoes completed this child’s costume. The bottle of
milk which he was sucking, or pretending to suck, was fixed to his
sash, and had a long tube. The nurse put down her charge to toddle
along the floor, still holding his hand, but the baby if left for a
moment began to cry.
It was not long before we discovered in the baby a hard riding man
who had brought some hounds out from home and given us some amusement
with them in the cold weather, his nurse was an officer in a smart
cavalry regiment. Before the evening was over so many practical
jokes had been played on the poor baby that he and his nurse in
self-defence retired and changed into ordinary evening garments; but
not before supper, when Lord William insisted on feeding the baby
with a tablespoon, and dived first into one dish and then another so
quickly that the already red-faced baby became apoplectic; it was
after this he escaped, having been severely patted on the back for a
choking fit.
India has changed since those days when the natives used to be rather
shocked at ladies appearing publicly in evening dress, and at some
of the flirtations, perhaps not entirely peculiar to the East, but
to-day they have become so civilised and Westernised it takes a good
deal more to shock them.
The country is a mixture of shabbiness and gorgeousness, pathos and
childishness. Some of us appear very giddy out there, because if we
did not, we should cry; so ride and dance, keeping up a ceaseless
round of activity, we _say_ because it keeps us in health, which in a
measure no doubt it does, it also leaves no time for thoughts of home
and regrets.
The music of the country is quite peculiar to itself, so is the
dancing, which is poor and monotonous, but, of course, I am
speaking of some years ago, now possibly the Princes are asking
their bandmasters the names of the morsels being played to them,
and are told, as really happened I believe to Queen Victoria once,
who, on hearing a particularly bright tune being played, asked its
name. Nobody seemed able, or inclined, to inform her, but she was
determined to know, and sent specially to the band to ask, the
messenger returned looking a little uncomfortable, and said it was
called “Come where the booze is cheaper.” Probably tunes of that sort
are now the order of the day, having travelled with the motor-car and
latter-day luxuries.
During the winter in India, singing quadrilles were the fashion,
and had to be rehearsed frequently, it was rather funny to see Lord
William being schooled into singing his part of “Ba ba black sheep,
have you any wool?”; he learnt “Where are you going to, my pretty
maid?” much quicker.
It is astonishing the amount of talent that is represented at times
in the hill stations in summer, it is by no means uncommon to
have really good Christy Minstrels, concerts and even high-class
oratorios. (I suppose the latter ought to have been mentioned first).
Lord William did not take part in the big game shooting unless he had
to go officially, as it bored him to tears, but he loved pig-sticking
more than any other form of sport, and used to get a good deal of it
from Calcutta. He belonged to the Calcutta Tent Club, and always said
the best days he had were when with his friend “Archie Hills, on his
own land at Packabari.” Mr. Hills, if I remember right, was an indigo
planter. He appears in the pig-sticking group. For those unacquainted
with this form of sport I will explain it briefly. The game can be
played by one alone, but usually by three or four men who go out
together mounted on horses, and armed with spears to hunt and slay
the boar. My own humble opinion is that Arabs are the pleasantest
mounts for this form of sport, they seem to understand the broken
ground better than any other class of horse and are sure-footed.
The boars are not like our English pork, but very fierce fighting
animals; tigers have been known to fight shy of them. It is wonderful
the way these pigs cover the ground; they are really fast, and
give jumps and bounds of a surprising nature. They generally begin
by going away from the sportsmen, but after a while when they get
annoyed, and think it is time for some fun themselves, they will turn
suddenly and charge the enemy. Some horses that have been ridden
regularly after pig, are clever at dodging these charges, which is
a distinct advantage, a rip from the tusk of a boar is a nasty one,
they always rip upwards, inflicting horrid wounds, when they get the
chance.
The Tent Club, already mentioned, was formed at Calcutta of
pig-stickers, a photo of which will be found with the names of the
most prominent members. I do not remember hearing a great deal about
Lord William’s pig-sticking, beyond the fact that he enjoyed it
above all things, and got as much of it as his duties allowed. It
was returning from pig-sticking in 1880, I think, that an excitement
occurred in which Lord William took part.
[Illustration: SOME NOTABLE MEMBERS OF THE CALCUTTA TENT CLUB
_Left to right, standing_: General Harry Wilkinson, Col. Jim Cooke,
Mr. Macnair, Mr. H. Millett, Mr. Anderson, Mr. W. L. Thomas, Mr. W.
O. Bell Irving, Mr. Playfair, I think; Mr. Jim Henderson, Captain
Muir. _Seated_: Mr. G. Fox, Sir George Greaves, Mr. Carlysle, Sir
Franklin Prestage, Lord William Beresford, Mr. Archie Hills; (next
not known to the author). _On the ground_: Mr. A. S. Chapman, Mr.
Laurie Johnstone, Captain A. Rochfort]
A number of horses, about 250, had been landed from the ship
_Thessalus_, with a view to taking them to Dhurrumtollah, where
stables were ready for them; how to get them there was a matter of
speculation; it was decided a few expert Australians, with stock
whips, should drive them Colonial fashion, all grouped up together,
this answered admirably for some time, until one or two of the
leaders took it into their heads that gas lamps were dangerous
things, and galloped madly away through the streets, followed by all
the rest, simply a mad galloping and hurruishing crowd of horses,
a regular stampede, not a pleasant thing to find advancing towards
you. They rushed with alarming clatter through the streets out
into the maidan or plain, where they broke up into groups, tearing
off in every direction. It took all night and part of the next day
collecting the animals, who by that time had tasted enough freedom
and were not sorry to be caught, but the excitement was great. One
unfortunate man, who was riding home at a belated hour, meeting
this charging cavalcade turned his horse’s head very wisely and was
carried along with them.
Lord William was a good judge of a horse and understood their
training, he was therefore often asked for his advice, and if anyone
had a good horse they wished to sell they usually let Lord William
have a look at it. One day in Calcutta, Mr. John Ralli sent him
for trial a very fine fast trotting mare to look at; his lordship
decided to buy her. The same evening he went for a “walk round” at
Belvedere and saw there a Mr. S. (we will say) and his very handsome
wife walking arm-in-arm. There was a very strong likeness between
Mr. Ralli and Mr. S., and as Lord William passed, mistaking him for
Mr. Ralli, he gave a little pinch whispering, “She’s a ripper.” Mr.
S. immediately replied, “You’re a scoundrel, sir!” Lord William was
very indignant and thought the man had gone mad, as, of course, he
was referring to Mr. John Ralli’s fast trotting mare. Mr. S. was also
angry, thinking Lord William referred to his wife. Rather a funny
story of mistaken identity.
Lord William was with the Viceroy on the memorable occasion when
touring a certain district where the natives had come to the
conclusion that, under the new Viceroy’s rule, they were to have a
free run among the scattered European residents, where several ladies
were living, and when he arrived the said scattered Europeans were
not inclined to give his Excellency a favourable reception! This
episode was referred to as the “White Mutiny.”
The Autumn of 1882 was not a very lucky one from the racing point of
view. Both the Dehra and Umballa meetings were poor and temporarily
somewhat out of favour. The winter of 1882-3 was not much better, at
Calcutta Lord William certainly won a race with Fariz and another
with Mooltan, and he won a match five hundred rupees a side, riding
his Premier against Captain Webb, on Mr. Godjack’s Skirmishe.
In May came the news of his partner’s death, poor Mr. Monty Stewart,
who had gone home sick. In consequence of this, all the horses were
put up for sale, the majority being bought by the Sporting Maharajah
of Jodhpore.
Lord William not being able to afford racing alone, on the lines he
aspired to, now looked round for another partner, and before long he
and the young and rich Maharajah of Durbangah came to an arrangement.
The Rajah had acquired a taste for racing from Major Ben Roberts,
who had just left India to take up some appointment in England. So
now began another partnership, and more money was forthcoming to
purchase valuable horses. Ryder was once more sent to England to
see what he could find, Lord William also went on short leave and
returned with a sprinter named Reputation, Father Prout and Little
Charlie. £2000 was given for Reputation, and before leaving for India
he won the Egremont Plate of £300 and the Glasgow Plate £200, but he
was a nervous horse, did not travel well, was easily thrown off his
oats and did no good in India where the ground was too hard for him,
which was disappointing, for in the Egremont Plate before leaving
England when being ridden by “Archer” he gave 16lbs. to Laceman and
27lbs. to Hornpipe, who were the same age, yet won easily.
Reputation was a smart good-looking horse, bought from a solicitor
I believe named Tidy, whom it may be remembered Lord Marcus once
tackled in his office, ending in fisticuffs and police court
proceedings.
On May 10th, 1883, a great match was arranged between Lord William
and Mr. Leopold de Rothschild: the former backing his Reputation
against the latter’s Brag. Archer rode for Lord William and Fordham
for Mr. Rothschild. The race was run at the Newmarket Spring meeting,
200 sovereigns a side T.Y.C. Matches were quite a fashionable feature
of the sport at this period and were generally arranged overnight and
a surprise addition to the day’s racing.
The excitement was great over this race, many were interested in it,
amongst others the Prince of Wales, Sir J. Astley, Lord Hartington
(afterwards Duke of Devonshire) and many more. Crowds flocked to see
the race run and there was a good deal of money on it. The horses
ran close together most of the course, it was most thrilling, but
eventually Brag gained the advantage about a hundred yards from home,
winning cleverly by a neck. Perhaps for the benefit of those who
are not race-goers I ought to explain T.Y.C. means the two year old
course at Newmarket which is five furlongs and 140 yards. This course
was a long way from the stand; there were more winning-posts in those
days than there are now. It was customary for people to hack over to
the different places to see the finish. Brag had the advantage in
weight as Reputation had to give him 14lbs., which, in the opinion
of many people who were in a position to judge, was considered too
much to ask. Perhaps Lord William was not as experienced at that
time as he was later in that delicate game of matching: considerable
knowledge being necessary to bring it off successfully.
A number of people will not forget that day easily, a good deal of
money changed hands over the race.
It was in the Palace House at Newmarket, Lord William made this
Brag and Reputation match; where Mr. Leopold de Rothschild always
entertained both King Edward and our present King. It is an
unpretentious looking abode but very historic, and was the Newmarket
house of Charles II.
The newly purchased horses arrived safely in India on July 30th,
1883. But now more bad luck attended poor Lord William, for while
riding at Cawnpore in the Gangees Cup he broke his collarbone, and
hardly had he recovered from this than, in a jumping Competition at
Simla, he dislocated his shoulder and was not able to enjoy the Dehra
Autumn meeting.
When once a shoulder has been dislocated it forms a fondness for
the amusement and continues to do it with slight provocation. Lord
William says it happened once through sneezing!
Though unable to attend the Dehra Meeting, his stable was
represented, an Australian named The Mute won the Trials, Action
won the Gimcrack Stakes and Johnnie the Hack race. Later at Meerut,
Lord William was well enough to ride, and on a horse purchased from
the circus proprietor, John Wilson, won the Maiden Chase. At Umballa
riding Johnnie he was triumphant in the Grand Military Steeplechase,
but got a toss in the Grand Annual when riding Jack the circus
horse, but he remounted and finished the race. On the last day of
the Umballa meeting he grew annoyed at the weight his horses had to
carry and refused to start any one of them, declaring he was sick of
racing, and meant to “give it up, and go in for Botany or Erotics.”
In spite of this heroic resolve the following month he was riding at
Lahore.
The Calcutta 1883-4 first cold weather meeting, Lord William had
a walk over for the Monsoon Welter Cup. At the second meeting
Syndicate won the Hooghly Plate, but had only one opponent. In
March, Diamond won the Corinthian Stakes, and Caspian the Sirhind
Plate. Lord William thought a good deal of an Arab they--he and his
partner--owned, named Reformer, and he sent it to England to run at
Newmarket in the Arab races, but the poor beast died in the Red Sea.
In June, the first and second day’s racing at Simla saw Lord William
without a winning mount.
Though Lord Ripon’s time was comparatively free from political
anxieties he had a number of guests to stay with him all to be amused
and catered for, this provided food for thought on the Military
Secretary’s part, who was ceaseless in his endeavours, but the hard
work of that and the constant strain of his racing engagements was
beginning to tell on Lord Bill, and he began to look as if a journey
home for a while would be good for him.
Only those who understand racing know the amount of thought and
care it requires to be successful, even with luck in their favour.
To begin at the beginning, money is not made out of the stakes that
are won, expenses generally throw the balance into the wrong side,
therefore it is betting must do it, and we know Lord William did make
a good deal of money over his racing, but it was thanks to his own
cleverness. To be successful it must be studied as a business; there
are many elements to be taken into consideration and reckoned with,
it is really a vast study. Jockeys have to be chosen and retained.
Trainers found who give satisfaction and understand their work. Races
looked up to suit the horses in the stable, and horses bought to
suit the big-plum races all are keen on winning, and after all these
considerations how often things go awry.
[Illustration: LORD RIPON, LADY RIPON AND STAFF
_Left to right. Standing_: Lord Wm. Beresford and Ponto, Capt.
Charles Harbord (Lord Suffield), Capt. C. Burn, Dr. Anderson, Capt.
Muir, Capt. Leonard Gordon
_Sitting_: Mr. Primrose, Lord Ripon, Lady Ripon, Capt. St. Quinten,
Capt. the Hon. H. Legge
_On ground_: Capt. Roddy Owen, Capt. Rochfort]
It is not reassuring to know that the moment a man takes up racing
his honour no longer remains in his own hands, for now he has to
take his trainer, his jockey, his syce, and his understudies into
consideration, not forgetting his horse. On the face of it, it seems
as if only a very philosophical person could bear the strain.
When things go wrong it is usually put down to either the jockey’s
evil doing, or the owner’s sharp practice, while it by no means
follows that either is to blame. So many things, and so many people
have to be taken into consideration, the horse by no means the least;
for horses like human beings have their good and bad days, their
moods and tempers, but are unable to explain their feelings. Trainers
are likewise not infallible, inclined at times to think some of their
geese have grown into swans (in all good faith), forgetting other
people have a swan or two.
Owners are obliged of necessity to rely a good deal on their
trainer’s judgment, but those who come off best are undoubtedly the
men who keep an eye on their horses, having opinions of their own and
able to carry their own tails. Against this there is the trainer who
will not express an opinion, which is vexation to owners wishing to
discuss their chances.
Then again think of the anxiety attached to sending valuable horses
from place to place to fulfil their engagements; the serious question
of what race will be suitable to each horse, the difficulty of
deciding what and when to buy, what and when to sell, and judging
their public value. Buying race-horses is a different thing
altogether to choosing a hunter or a carriage horse. The temper of
the parents has to be thought of, and indeed traced back a good long
way, also whether any of the family are inclined to be musical. The
shape of horses’ feet is important, and so few people agree about
horses’ points, the wonder is any trainer and owner can be found to
agree.
Lord William looked most carefully after the training of his own
horses, and this is no sinecure; they require constant watching. Some
have capricious appetites and have to be coaxed with dainties or they
will not eat enough, others do not thrive unless they eat grossly and
have to be exercised in proportion; here comes in the valuable gift
of being able to judge condition, many fail in this most critical
point.
It was greatly owing to Lord William’s study of his horses’
characters and temperaments that he was as successful as he was; he
knew (none better) that all cannot be treated alike, in sickness and
in health, as they say in the Marriage Service; he was also perfectly
aware of the uncertainty attached to all matters appertaining to
horse-racing. Horses as a rule do their utmost to meet the wishes of
their riders, but the training is a severe trial, and the tempers of
some give away under it. Their life seems to be one long persecution;
it is to be hoped their feeling of fitness makes up for all the fuss
and regulations.
Logic is no doubt a good training for owners, leading them to sound
judgment, but horses are not given that way.
One good point in Lord William’s training was he did not overtrain,
as a rule his horse had a reserve of staying power.
It will be seen that his lordship had plenty to occupy him, in fact
considerably overworked himself habitually. Yet always cheerful and
comfortably optimistic, and it really requires the temper of an
angel to be able to manage horses, stablemen, jockeys, trainers and
racing authorities. When we bear in mind that this was Lord William’s
recreation, it enables us to form some idea of his busy life.
The State functions which all had to be arranged by him were no
trifle, any mistakes or incompetence on the part of the Military
Secretary might lead to serious trouble and jealousies. The official
visits of the Rajahs to the Viceroy, our King’s representative
for the time being, requires a special knowledge, each having to
be received according to his rank. Some when coming to pay their
respects have to be fetched, as I have already stated, by the
Military Secretary, Under-Secretary of the Foreign Department, and
an A.D.C. A guard of honour has to await his arrival, much red cloth
spread, and a salute fired of as many guns as his rank entitles him,
and they keep a very sharp and watchful eye, carefully noting these
etiquettes, which are of staggering intricacy when receiving and
paying visits. It is also obligatory that the General commanding the
district should be in attendance with his A.D.C. Nothing must be left
to chance. All is prescribed in the official regulations.
At the levees and drawing-rooms the Military Secretary reads the
names on the cards handed to him as each person presents himself
to bow or curtsey. Some of the foreign names are rather posers and
shocking mouthfuls. It requires some pluck to tackle them, and it is
surprising what offence is caused if any mistake is made. Supposing
Mrs. De Larpent Fitz-Jones-Ben-Maurice is presented, and the De is
left out or the Fitz-Jones perchance, many apologies and explanations
will have to be made. Besides these functions the viceregal stables
were looked after by the Military Secretary, the French cook Bonsard
and the English coachman with their native underlings to be kept up
to the mark, the ladies’ maids (who usually require so much more
waiting on than their mistresses) to be amused, and the servants
ready to carry them out in rickshaws or jampans, to eat the air, or
in some cases, riding, and I think no one was overlooked or forgotten.
When on tour his lordship made out each day’s programme in advance,
something after this fashion:
8 a.m. The Rajah of ... will send his Sirdars to ask after
the health of the Viceroy.
9 a.m. His Excellency will eat his breakfast.
10 a.m. His Excellency will smoke and attend to his correspondence.
11 a.m. The Rajah will arrive, and the usual ceremonies take
place.
12.30. His Excellency will return the Rajah’s visit.
1.30. Their Excellencies will have luncheon.
2.30. Sports and tent-pegging arranged by the Rajah for
his Excellency’s amusement.
and so on throughout the day.
Imagine to yourself having to map out 365 days in this fashion and
please everybody! Truly a great man, and some of the big functions
I have been privileged to witness have sadly needed a Lord William
as stage manager; he would have greatly added to the dignity of the
shows and the persons taking part.
The official society in Simla at this period was particularly bright
and happy. The Commander-in-Chief at Snowdon, Sir Donald Stewart,
with his kindly wife and family of cheery, happy young people;
the young men on the Viceroy’s staff, other dignitaries and their
belongings, all like one big family, meeting nearly every day; then
the crowd of visitors, officials from all over India on leave with
their wives, officers up on short leave with wives if they own one,
wives sent up for their health, while the husbands are kept working
on the plains (Lord William being sure to look after them), little
children with pale faces hoping to find some roses to take back to
daddy; Lord William kept an eye on them all, ready to sympathise and
help any he thought needing it.
It was at Simla in Lord Ripon’s time I first met the Rajah of Kooch
Behar and the Maharanee. She had not long been married, was very shy
and rather fragile looking, and wore beautiful silken draperies I
remember. Her husband, the Rajah, was very popular with the English
community, and a great friend of Lord William’s. They had much in
common, as both were fond of racing, polo, and paperchasing, the
latter of course only in the plains and Calcutta.
A few years ago I met the Maharanee again in London, and introduced
my son to her, she being no longer shy but with an assured and very
charming manner, speaking good English and dressed like the rest of
us. My son said how pleased he was to meet her, he had heard me speak
of her so often. She replied with a charming smile:
“And now you meet me I hope you are not disappointed.”
Latterly the Kooch Behars spent a good deal of time in England, where
everybody liked them.
[Illustration: THE LATE MARQUESS OF RIPON, VICEROY OF INDIA]
Lord Ripon’s reign was drawing to a close; he left India in November,
1884. More popular with the natives than any previous Viceroy, he was
also much liked by those who worked with him. He was very loyal to
them, but how glad he must have been to return to his own beautiful
home in England. The following farewell is supposed to have emanated
from his Excellency’s pen, it appeared in some local paper at the
time I believe, and was sent to me as a cutting. I therefore do not
know the name of the paper, so cannot ask its permission to quote it,
but feel sure it will have no objection.
LORD RIPON’S GOOD NIGHT
Adieu! adieu! the land of palms
Fades o’er the waters blue;
The loafers yell, the planters roar,
And weeps the mild Hindu.
Apollo his own Bunder gilds,
As slow he sinks from sight:
Farewell to them and thee for aye,
Unhappy land--Good night!
I leave thy shores to which I steered
With hopes that swelled my heart,
Their shadowy phantoms rise again
To greet me ere I part.
They came not through Sleep’s Ivory Gate,
As once they came, dream-born,
But whence the truer shades arise
From the twin Gate of Horn.
They tell of many a purpose crossed,
Of disconcerted plan:
Of baffled aims that wisely chide
The imaginings of man:
Of fond desires, of fancied good,
As though could power constrain
All means to justest ends and bring
A golden age again.
They tell of angry gathering crowds:
Of Faction’s hate-swayed throng:
Of wild words prompting wilder deeds,
Unstayed by heed of wrong;
The cruel taunt, the scornful jest,
The slander that belies,
The coward hiss that rose unshamed
Before a woman’s eyes.
All save the last in other years
I braved this, this, was spared;
Though fiercer crowds had wreaked the worst
That bigot rage had dared.
I stood for what I deemed the right--
Ye women-slayers say true!
Have cheeks that never paled for them,
Ere blanched for such as you?
To win the fickle breath of praise,
No suppliant knee I bow,
And what once Duty pledged to grant,
No fear shall disavow.
I crave not at your hands for aught
But dues that fair lists owe,
And bear ye as ye will, ye meet
At least a gallant foe.
Yet not alone of these the freight
Their parting message bears,
But auguries of harvest joys
For a seed-time of tears.
The reapers of the summer swathes
Know well that winter’s rain
Must spend its havoc on the soil,
Ere smiles the yellow grain.
So time shall its own wreck repair,
And they who garner, then,
Forget not that the day’s long heats
Were borne by other men.
Yet not in vain the labour now,
Nor scant the meed unsued,
The richest guerdon toil can earn--
A people’s gratitude.
They bring the memories of friends
Who charm on exile shed:
Who lightened weary months of care,
And soothed the fevered bed:
Bold hearts that never failed my side,
In cloud or shine the same:
Still true in the fierce fight that raged
Round Ilbert’s fateful name.
Come hither, come hither, my trusty Aide,
What turns thy cheek so pale?
What latest fair thou leav’st behind,
Believes thy oft-told tale?
If ’tis some fond delusion paints
Thy happiness at stake,
A heart that holds so many loves,
Fear not, will never break.
And she for whom thou sighest now,
That fond and faithful she!
Already smiles on other Aides,
And thinks no more of thee.
A simple primrose is to her
But that and nothing more:
And thou wilt find some newer love
Before thou touchest shore.
Another lord my palace treads,
My reign is past and o’er:
Of me thy shades have seen the last,
Rheumatic Barrackpore!
Let Simla’s typhoid-laden air
Another victim know,
And envy his ungrateful race
That wail in health below.
Farewell to levees, pageants, routs,
To weeks of endless dinners;
To balls where I must lead the dance
With capering saints and sinners.
Farewell to Rajahs and Nabobs:
To fetid pan and attar,
To coming Russians in Herat
And Rent Bills in Calcutta.
Farewell, Societies where meet
In concord, whites and blacks:
Associations that defend
What nobody attacks:
The long addresses that pursue
A Viceroy where he goes:
Farewell to Hunter’s bright romance
And Kimberley’s dull prose.
Farewell to Budgets and Reports,
To critics in the press,
Who nightly weave Arabian tales
Of fiction, fact and guess:
To hourly fears lest Colvin’s glance
Of deficits should tell;
Riots, rupees, and zemindars!
To one and all farewell!
And all the scathing paper wars
Where Secretaries fight
To prove how sharp the pens they wield,
How smartly they can write:
Official minutes, drafts and notes
And boxes that they fill,
To my successors I bequeath
With one unfinished Bill.
With thee, my bark, I’ll swiftly speed
Athwart the ocean’s span,
Nor care what land thou bear’st me to,
So not to Hindustan.
Welcome, welcome, ye hastening waves
That homeward wing my flight!
Welcome the Franchise and the Lords.
Distracted land--Good night.
H. S. J.
CHAPTER IX
LORD DUFFERIN’S VICEROYALTY
Lord Dufferin Succeeds Lord Ripon as Viceroy--Durbar at Rawal
Pindi to Meet the Amir of Afghanistan--A Few Annoyances--How
it All Ended--Some Presents--Outline of a Viceroy’s Tour--A
Nasty Fall--Sale of Confederacy Horses--“Father Time”--Parlour
Fireworks--A Ride to the Pyramids--Unostentatious Charity--Some
Impositions
The Earl of Dufferin succeeded the Marquis of Ripon in 1884. India
hoped great things of him, as he was a man thoroughly experienced in
dealing with delicate situations, having been Governor-General of the
Dominion of Canada, and Ambassador at St. Petersburg; he had also
from 1864 to 1866 been Under-Secretary of State for India.
Lord Ripon’s zeal for the natives having created a strong and most
undesirable antagonism between the Europeans and natives, the new
Viceroy’s first endeavour was to restore confidence to the European
community without undue reaction, and he succeeded in a measure.
Lord William remained in his old haunts, being appointed Military
Secretary to the new Viceroy; he also being experienced, all began
smoothly. In domestic politics Lord Dufferin carried out certain
reforms in the tenure of land in Bengal (Bengal Tenancy Act,
passed 1885), and Lady Dufferin started a great work with a view
to providing medical treatment and nursing for native women, of
which I will write later. In all these movements Lord William took
the keenest interest, and he was the oil which helped to keep the
machinery working smoothly. Somebody once said, “A landlord is
the father of his tenants,” then surely a good competent Military
Secretary who has been at his post some years is father, godfather
and nurse all rolled into one to the Viceroy. The private secretary,
Sir Donald Mackenzie Wallace, was also exceptionally capable and a
man of letters.
Being so well supported must have been a comfort to Lord Dufferin
during the anxious time which followed his taking office, for there
was still that urgent and difficult question of the Afghan boundary
demanding attention. The hitherto sketchy and uncertain alignment
as arranged and agreed in the 1872-3 Anglo-Russian agreement left
loopholes for controversy, the River Oxus having been regarded as
the boundary or demarcation line. This river had views of its own,
altering its course to suit its own convenience, therefore could not
be relied upon as a satisfactory or definite boundary, but one likely
to lead to misunderstanding. The Russians were also a little pressing
with their influence in the direction of Herat. As we had been led to
look upon that place as “The Key of India,” we had to consider what
was best to be done to prevent its occupation by the Russians. It
may be remembered that Lord Dufferin considered almost any deviation
in the boundary better than offending the Amir and making him
antagonistic to us.
The forts at Herat were not of much importance, but our prestige
would certainly suffer if we allowed anybody else to occupy the
place, and as India could not spare enough troops either to hold
Herat or even the line of communication between it and Candahar,
Lord Dufferin held much converse with the Government at home, the
Commander-in-Chief in India (Sir Donald Stewart) and the India Office
as to the best mode of procedure, the result of which was we prepared
to send about 25,000 men to Quetta via the Bolan Pass. The Amir
thought he would like to talk over the situation with the Viceroy,
and so it was agreed that the Afghan Chief should meet His Excellency
at Rawal Pindi. In consequence of this arrangement a huge camp was
formed, everything done and carried out on the most magnificent and
impressive scale, such as is beloved by Orientals, plenty of tinsel,
glitter and pomp.
I have often thought the inhabitants of India, and Afghanistan too
for that matter, must think us very dowdy looking people compared
with their own codes, and indeed we do make a sorry show amongst
their gorgeous jewels, colour and trappings. Perhaps if we were to
appear at their big gatherings and on great occasions with more of
the “rings on our fingers and bells on our toes” that we used to
hear about in our nursery rhymes, we should inspire more admiration
and reverence. I am strongly under the impression that these
colour-loving people look for, and take the outward and visible sign,
as a precursor of the inward and spiritual grace.
This Durbar at Pindi entailed most elaborate preparations and much
work on the Military Secretary. It really consisted of several
camps, one group for the native princes and chiefs, one for the
British Army, another for the native army, the viceregal camp, one
for the Lieut.-Governor, and various others, making an imposing array.
Among the guests of the Viceroy were the Duke and Duchess of
Connaught, numerous Lieut.-Governors, Commander-in-Chief, also
members of Council.
The comings and goings of all these good people, their comfort, the
necessary arrangement of precedence and etiquette was the work of the
Military Secretary, and required some thought and hard work to digest
and assimilate satisfactorily. The worry attached to the arranging
of a camp of this kind is enormous. Lord William did not appear the
least depressed, but quite as cheery and bright as usual, while being
extraordinarily efficient. Of course he had the A.D.C.’s under him,
whom no doubt he had chosen from his knowledge of their capabilities.
It is, however, easy to imagine the worries and anxieties attached to
the occasion. We all know how annoying it is when arranging functions
ourselves, to find at the last moment the _chef_ has been indulging
in something stronger than tea, which has made him quarrelsome,
preferring chasing the kitchen and vegetables maids rather than
attending to the dinner the expectant guests may be awaiting.
Heaps of annoyances of all sorts and kinds were bound to happen. I
do not know what they all were, but I do know that after making the
most elaborate arrangements for everybody’s comfort, excellent food,
decorations, snowy white tablecloths, etc., the very day of the
Amir’s entry a heavy thunderstorm spoilt everything. The tenants of
the different camps had either to stay where they happened to be and
risk having no dinner, or wade through a swamp. The decorations were
ruined, the tablecloths draggled and limp, the water having poured
through the tents. Elaborate ceremonies under canvas are trying at
any time, but when in addition to natural difficulties everything is
under water, it is truly a hopeless and thankless task.
Usually these domestic worries fall on the shoulders of women, and
are borne more or less patiently as part of their existence. For
a man to tackle such things and on such a glorified scale will, I
feel sure, take away the breath of those readers who have never seen
what an energetic, undauntable man like Lord William could master.
In a moment, so to speak, he had to reorganise everything. How was
he going to keep people dry, how prevent the rain from spoiling or
even washing away the presents all laid out ready for the Amir, the
diamond ornaments, gewgaws, and oh! horrible thought, the musical
boxes, suppose they refused to be musical in consequence of the wet?
Who could tell what crisis might arise, or whose head be cut off! As
a matter of fact and interest the Amir did bring his own executioner
with him in gorgeous garments, and carrying the emblem of his office,
a battle-axe and a few other suggestive little items, meant, no
doubt, to impress us.
Before passing on to other matters, it may interest some of my
readers to know what in the Oriental world is considered “good form”
when receiving presents. On this occasion a sword studded with
diamonds round the hilt was presented on a cushion to the Amir, who
on taking it into his hand diplomatically exclaimed, “With this sword
I hope to smite any enemy of the British Government,” repeating his
lesson very nicely. This was quite as it should be, and the Amir had
been well advised, but when the rest of the presents, guns for his
son, musical boxes, watches and all sort of glittering things were
being spread out before him, he pretended not to see, or take the
smallest interest in this part of the show; but as soon as he was
alone with his followers, all were examined carefully, and he was
very pleased.
When the time arrived for the giving of presents it was understood
the object of the meeting had been obtained, all points carefully
discussed between the Viceroy and the Amir, the latter having
formed clearer views of what was to his own interests (and ours
incidentally); that we were prepared to fight his enemies, assist him
with arms and money, and with him pay attention to the fortification
of Herat, and if he followed our advice we were going to help him to
keep Russia away from his doors.
The great Durbar was over, and beyond the torrents of rain nothing
much had gone amiss, the elephants told off to take part in the state
procession did not refuse to “process,” the musical boxes did not
refuse to play, and all went well.
[Illustration: LORD DUFFERIN, FAMILY AND STAFF
_Left to right. Standing_: Capt. Leonard Gordon, Hon. C. Lawrence,
Capt. Onslow, Col. Harry Cooper, Capt. A. Balfour, Lord Herbrand
Russell, Mr. Goad, D. Findley
_Sitting_: Col. G. F. Graham, Lady Helen Blackwood, Lord Wm.
Beresford, Miss Thynne, Lord Dufferin, Lady Dufferin, Sir Donald
Mackenzie Wallace
_On ground_: Capt. C. Burn, Capt. Honble. C. Harbord]
Then followed the arranging for the return of all the participators
in this pageant. Happily the Amir considered rain a good omen, and
as it rained when he arrived, also when he took his departure, he
must have felt he was in luck’s way.
Lord William, Captain Harbord, Mr. Durand, and other high officials
drove from the Viceroy’s camp to the Amir’s, preparatory to the final
adieu and to inform him of the arrest of Ayab Khan, thereby easing
his mind, also the tidings that Her Majesty the Queen-Empress had
conferred on him the decoration of the Grand Cross of the Star of
India.
The Amir left in the Viceroy’s carriage accompanied by these officers
_en route_ for the station with a cavalry escort and body-guard
of the King’s Dragoon Guards. The route was lined with troops who
presented arms every fifty yards. Then a pleasing little speech from
the Amir, and he was on his way back to Kabul.
Lord William had time again now to breathe freely after his hard
work, and carried back to India and eventually to his home in England
various souvenirs he treasured, presented to him by some of those
attending the Durbar as a small appreciation of his untiring efforts
for their comfort and pleasure.
Besides the brain work this gathering necessitated the writing it had
entailed was enormous. I append a programme drawn up by the Military
Secretary for Lord Dufferin’s tour from Simla to Calcutta in 1885,
which gives some faint insight into the Military Secretary’s work
every day. Also into that of the Viceroy, for at each place mentioned
in the programme there were numerous people to be interviewed,
some with grievances to be redressed, or petitions of sorts for
the consideration of his Excellency. The landowners look forward
to these visits as they give them an opportunity of personally
explaining their views to their ruler. In addition to all this there
are all the local celebrities to be met and have polite nothings said
to them, the arranging of which takes some writing, some tact and
some talking. It all passes more or less through the hands of the
Military Secretary before being placed in the hands of the Viceroy.
Think what the Durbar entailed!
_Memo. of Dates of His Excellency the Viceroy’s route from Simla
to Calcutta, via Nahun, Dehra, Saharunpore, Delhi, Ulwar, Ajmere,
Oodeypore, Indore, Jodhpore, Jeypore, Bhurtpore, Agra, Lucknow,
Cawnpore, and Benares._
1885 DAY STATION REMARKS
Oct. 20 Tuesday Simla Leave 8.30 a.m. by tonga.
Dugshai Arrive 1.30 p.m. Lunch.
Leave 3 p.m. Ride on to
Nyna, 9 miles.
Nyna Viceroy’s Camp; arrive 5.30
p.m.
” 21 Wednesday Nyna to Suran Viceroy’s Camp, 13 miles.
” 22 Thursday Suran to Viceroy’s Camp, 13 miles.
Bonytee
” 23 Friday Bonytee to Viceroy’s Camp, 12 miles.
Nahun
” 24 Saturday Nahun Viceroy’s Camp.
” 25 Sunday Nahun to Viceroy’s Camp by tonga.
Majra
” 26 Monday Majra Viceroy’s Camp. Shoot.
” 27 Tuesday Majra to Viceroy’s Camp. Shoot on
Dehra Dun road. By tonga.
” 28 Wednesday Dehra Dun to Inspect remounts, stables,
Sharunpore and gardens in the afternoon.
” 29 Thursday Delhi Arrive 9 a.m. by special
train.
” 30 Friday Delhi Levee 9 p.m.
” 31 Saturday Delhi
Nov. 1 Sunday Delhi
” 2 Monday Delhi Leave 11 p.m. by special
train.
” 3 Tuesday Ulwar Arrive 9 a.m.
” 4 Wednesday Ulwar Shoot.
” 5 Thursday Ulwar to Leave 10 a.m.; arrive 6 p.m.
Ajmere by special train.
” 6 Friday Ajmere Levee 9 p.m.
” 7 Saturday Ajmere Open College; leave 9 p.m.
by special train to Nimbehera.
” 8 Sunday Oodeypore Arrive 6 p.m.; 6 miles by
road.
” 9 Monday Oodeypore
” 10 Tuesday Oodeypore
” 11 Wednesday Oodeypore Leave 9 a.m. by road to Nimbehera.
” 12 Thursday Indore Arrive 9 a.m. by special train.
” 13 Friday Indore
” 14 Saturday Indore Leave 2.30 p.m.
” 15 Sunday Jodhpore Arrive 6 p.m. by special train.
” 16 Monday Jodhpore Shoot.
” 17 Tuesday Jodhpore Shoot.
” 18 Wednesday Jodhpore Leave 9 p.m.
” 19 Thursday Jeypore Arrive 10 a.m.
” 20 Friday Jeypore
” 21 Saturday Jeypore
” 22 Sunday Jeypore to Leave 10 a.m.; arrive 4.30
Bhurtpore p.m.
” 23 Monday Bhurtpore Shoot; leave 3 p.m.
” 24 Tuesday Bhurtpore to Viceroy’s Camp. By special
Agra train; arrive 5 p.m.
” 25 Wednesday Agra Levee 9 p.m.
” 26 Thursday Agra Levee 9 p.m.
” 27 Friday Agra Levee.
” 28 Saturday Agra Levee.
” 29 Sunday Agra Levee.
” 30 Monday Agra Levee.
Dec. 1 Tuesday Agra Levee.
” 2 Wednesday Agra to Leave 9 a.m.
Gwalior
Dec. 3 Thursday Gwalior to Arrive 4.30 p.m.; leave 11
Dholepore p.m.
” 4 Friday Lucknow Arrive 9 a.m.
” 5 Saturday Lucknow
” 6 Sunday Lucknow
” 7 Monday Lucknow to Arrive 1.30 p.m.
Cawnpore
” 8 Tuesday Cawnpore Leave 11 p.m.
” 9 Wednesday Benares Arrive 9 a.m.
” 10 Thursday Benares
” 11 Friday Benares to Leave 11 p.m.
Calcutta
” 12 Saturday Calcutta Arrive 9 p.m.
MILITARY SECRETARY’S OFFICE, SIMLA.
_September 14th, 1885._
All this time while Lord William was attending to his duties, his
horses were running in different races, but he was not very lucky,
the 1884-5 Calcutta Meeting was disastrous, one horse after another
going wrong, and Prospero put his lordship’s shoulder out again by
falling with him, in spite of which, swathed in bandages, he rode on
the second day a very good race on the same animal, it being one of
the best races he ever rode, though he did not win.
Calcutta now had a new grand stand, and the races were run in the
afternoon instead of the morning, which was a popular innovation. At
the Second Calcutta Meeting, Ryder, Lord William’s jockey, also had a
nasty fall when riding Euphrates, the grand one-eyed Arab belonging
to John Wheal, termed by Mr. Abbott the Father of Indian Trainers,
who describing the race says: “Just opposite the Stand, on the other
side of the course, Euphrates, being on his blind side and on the
extreme inside, perhaps shying from the rush of heels behind him, ran
bang into the rails, not only crushing and breaking Ryder’s leg but
continuing to press inwards till the woodwork gave way and Ryder from
sheer weakness fell off, and Euphrates continuing his mad career must
have dashed against a post, for, when caught, it was found he had
knocked his only remaining eye out.”
On the 28th of January Lord William had another nasty fall, his horse
Jack not rising properly at the first fence, throwing his rider on to
his face. Friends who were near pulled him out of the way before he
got trodden on. He was unconscious and badly cut about the head and
nose, having to be carried back to Government House and put to bed,
though the moment he regained consciousness he wanted to go back to
the races.
Shortly after this accident Lord William went home on leave, and
badly he wanted the change and rest, for he was showing signs of
overwork, his many accidents had shaken him almost more than he
was aware of; but before leaving India the Durbangah-Beresford
Confederacy horses were put up for sale on the 28th of February
at Messrs. Brown & Co.’s Mart in Calcutta. Very fair prices were
realised as will be seen from the following list:
Reputation bought by Mr. Hard 1,800
Father Prout ” Dr. Hart 700
Little Charlie ” Mr. Hard 6,000
King of the Vale ” Major Deane 2,500
Bassanio ” Mr. Macklin 5,700
Zephyr ” Dr. Hart 3,000
Glory ” Major Deane 2,000
Manfred ” Major Deane 2,500
Lapella ” Mr. Croft 1,500
Bolieo ” Captain Gordon 3,700
Jack ” Dr. Hart 2,500
Diamond ” Captain Webb 750
Prospero ” Captain Burn 1,000
Torpedo ” H. H. Kooch Behar 700
Quack ” H. H. Kooch Behar 450
Pretender ” Major Deane 1,200
Cinder ” -- 1,800
Atarin ” -- 1,400
Khartoum ” -- 1,200
Fariz ” Captain Gordon 650
Snuff ” Dr. Hart 900
One or two of the best were bought by Mr. Hard for one or other
of the partners of the Confederacy, Reputation and Little Charlie
amongst them. Bassanio, the Australian, who fetched 5,700 rupees, was
bought back in March by Lord William. The Government bought several
for the Stud Department, and a little later purchased good old Jack
from Dr. Hart and sent him as a present to the Amir of Kabul for stud
purposes. Prospero was back again in the stable, and a week or two
before Lord William started for home won the Grand Annual at Meerut,
also the Hurdle Race, and Dynamite a handicap of sorts.
In April Lord Bill started for home. India felt lonely when he had
gone, especially amongst some of his fair friends. With women absence
often makes the heart grow fonder, but with men it is proximity that
plays the mischief, and Lord William I am afraid forgot to be sad
over the partings, for he found so many more fair friends in the Old
Country anxious to greet him and be kind.
There was no doubt about it he was beginning to age, to realise how
quickly we drop into middle age. It all comes about so imperceptibly,
perhaps a few grey hairs first awaken us to the change, it suddenly
dawns upon us, time is not standing still, that we have reached the
top of the hill that looked so long and unending, and now behold we
are slipping down the other side, and where are all the lovely views
we expected to find on reaching the top of the hill? Surely they must
have been mirage! It is a curious fact that you may look at yourself
in the glass many times a day but until something happens to force
the fact of a change on you the only image you behold in the mirror
is yourself in _youth_. Even after elasticity has left us, it still
does not dawn upon us we are--of the past. Perhaps nothing brings it
home to us more quickly than meeting some friend of our youth and
finding he has grown ponderous, lost the sparkle, hair grown grey,
eyes dim, and possibly a corporation, this makes us turn an anxious
eye on ourselves to see if similar changes have taken place.
Lord William never lost his sparkle or his pluck and he never sported
a corporation, but the unceasing energy of his life was telling on
him. It was quite useless begging him to take things more easily
for it was not possible to him. How he did enjoy a joke! I think it
was in 1885 when he was home on this leave that he went with me to
Rose’s toyshop in Sloane Street to find some toy to amuse a small
boy of mine that was delicate. While we were wandering round the
shop a friend came and spoke to me, so Lord William continued his
prowl, looking for likely things. When at liberty once more I found
him with a neat parcel in one hand, and he exclaimed, “I have the
very thing.” “What?” I asked. “Oh, come along, and I will explain
it to you,” so we marched out. I was then told the parcel contained
“Parlour Fireworks.” I suggested they were rather dangerous things,
but the idea was pooh-poohed. They were only pretty coloured lights
that threw up harmless sprays of blue, green and red powdery flame.
One of them he lit in the drawing-room fender to show me how harmless
they were. It seemed all right, so as soon as he had gone and it was
growing dark the small boy, myself and nurses proceeded on to the
flat roof of the house we were then renting in Park Lane, in the
narrow end near Gloucester House, where we felt well protected by the
Duke of Cambridge’s policeman always stationed at his door. The first
few Roman candles we lit were a success and caused great delight,
then I found a queer little box with rules where to light it. I
faithfully followed all the instructions. At first nothing happened,
then suddenly the air was alive with rifle-like reports in rapid
succession, while live squibs, things I believe called crackers,
were flying about cracking in every direction all over the tops of
the houses. What a commotion there was! The policeman ran in every
direction at once and blew his whistle, the jaded sleeping horse in
the laundry van at our area railings suddenly awoke, curled its tail
over its back pug-dog fashion, and set off for all it was worth,
leaving the man in charge, still in the kitchen, probably enjoying
good things. Everybody in the neighbourhood shouted, while we all
scrambled helter-skelter down the narrow staircase leading from
the roof, and on which housemaids had left various pails to dry and
air. These in our haste to descend and hide our heads, we charged,
hurtling them down the stairs in front of us, making a horrible
clatter.
Arrived at last in our rooms again, we all pretended to be dead while
the policeman came to enquire if we had heard anything, and did we
know anything about it? Our old housekeeper, who had been with us
many years and who was in the secret, faced the policeman, fearing
we might be given away by some indiscreet statements from the other
servants. She, of course, was very indignant that peaceable people
should be liable to such disturbance and hoped the policeman would
make a point of finding out about it, saying: “Really nobody is safe
from bombs and Jack-the-Rippers nowadays.” The policeman promised
to do his best. The following day the morning paper mentioned a
mysterious affair that had occurred in Park Lane, and it was supposed
an attempt had been made to blow up Gloucester House!
Thinking the matter over after all was calm again and the laundry
man had gone in search of his horse and van I began to wonder how
much of this had been design on the part of Lord William, for it was
a Jack-in-the-Box that exploded making such a noise, harmless in
itself but productive of rather an upheaval. When I told him what had
happened I thought he would never stop laughing.
I had lately returned from Egypt where I had been staying with
friends who one evening got up a picnic at the Pyramids to which
we were all to ride on donkeys. I was told by that dear good fellow
Gerry Portal, I think, but it is so long ago I am not sure, that
the best donkey in the place had been secured for me, it was a
great gymkhana winner, pure white, and boasted the name of Lord
Charles Beresford. So I rode Lord Charles Beresford to the Pyramids.
Everything was being called Lord Charles or Lord Charles Beresford at
that time, his name was on everybody’s lips, for he was and had been
doing great things in Egypt, and it was considered a great honour for
anyone or anything to be called Charlie.
I seem to have been recounting many stories of Lord William’s fun
and humour, but none of his thousands of kindly deeds, which were
strewn throughout his life as thickly as blackberries in September.
It is difficult to know where to begin, but I like to think that
when the day came for him to cross the border the spirits of some
of those he had saved from despair, whom he had helped not once but
many times, were waiting to greet and welcome him. I do not think
anyone who went to him for help or sympathy was ever “rebuffed.” At
times he certainly was imposed on, though he would not believe it,
and even when it came home to roost, as it occasionally did, he was
most forgiving. One individual in particular I remember in India. He
had been in a good cavalry regiment, but got into trouble at one of
the Umballa Race Meetings I have already described when there was
heavy plunging, trying to recover himself and place his finances on
a firm footing again, he only slipped further into the mire, until
in a hopeless mess; he then, to make matters worse, outstayed his
leave, and was turned out of the service. This man was well known
throughout India, and was an extraordinary character, blessed with
good looks, a fine figure and physique, a charming tenor voice, it
seemed there was much to be thankful for. Lord William thought if
once this man was put on his legs again, given a fresh start, he
might pull himself together and be more lucky; he therefore paid
up for him, and befriended him in every way. This friend, whom we
will call Captain X., now devoted his life to racing in India, and
he became a formidable opponent, as he had good hands and judgment,
and I doubt if there was a racecourse in India that had not made his
acquaintance. It was not long before he was in trouble again; once
more Lord William and Lord Airlie came to the rescue, meeting with
gross ingratitude, for the man could not be straight, he failed and
robbed his benefactors at every turn. Lord William was only full of
pity that such a talented, fine chap should go hopelessly wrong.
Captain X. was very good company, a very fast runner and a strong
swimmer; all this appealed to Lord Bill, who tried his hardest to
save him, but it was no use. I have been told eventually he helped
the man to go away to another country and try again.
Lord William always said his sympathies were with the sinners, but I
think they were with everybody in every station of life.
Riding through Cantonments one day he met a soldier’s wife carrying
a heavy child who was looking ill. He asked why she carried it, and
on hearing it was ill and she could not drag it along after her, and
the air was good for it, he expressed his sorrow for its ill-health,
spoke a few cheering words, and rode on. That evening a perambulator
arrived from an anonymous donor at the door of the sick child’s
mother.
More times than I can number have boys fresh out from home been
saved from making “asses of themselves,” as Lord William expressed
it, by his counsel and help. A youth I knew came out to join a crack
regiment. He had more money than was good for him, and fancied
himself not a little. His mother wrote asking me to be kind to
him. I endeavoured to mother him, but he was so certain he knew
everything and was a fine fellow going to show everybody the way,
it was difficult to guide or help him. He began racing and betting.
Naturally there were older hands at that game than himself, and he
got into trouble. At last, when he had come to the end of all his
resources, he came to me, but as he was then heavily involved with a
native money-lender, I felt it was beyond my powers, and asked if I
might consult a friend if I mentioned no names. This I was permitted
to do, and sought Lord William’s help. He told me not to trouble
about it at all, but send the lad to him. After some discussion
he rather ungraciously accepted Lord William’s offer, and went to
see him. Happily this turned out better than the other case I have
mentioned, for the boy came back radiant, to tell me Lord William was
going to settle with the money-lender and put him straight, and when
he came into his uncle’s property, which was bound to fall to him
before very long, he was going to put it all right with Lord William,
but as he had no power to anticipate the money he could only give his
word of honour about it.
I wonder if there was anybody but Lord William who would have done
this. When in the evening I met my old friend and thanked him for
helping the lad with such uncertain security, he replied, “Oh, I
never expect to see it again, but he’s a nice boy and has promised
to come to me for tips before plunging again.” It rejoices me to
be able to say all _was_ paid back and Lord William had a faithful
and devoted friend as long as the poor lad lived. He died of heart
failure on a P. & O. going home on leave.
CHAPTER X
DEAR LONDON AGAIN
The Man Who Thought He Was King--A Dance After Dinner--How It
Ended--Corney Grain in Disgrace on the Door-mat--Racing--Trouble
in Burmah--Lord Dufferin and Lord William Go There--Collecting the
Offertory in Church--Some Schemes of Interest
Those few months of leave in 1885 picked Lord William up wonderfully,
and he thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the time after his nine
years of India, a big slice out of the prime of a man’s life, but
he had the satisfaction of feeling he had faced the music, so to
speak, by beginning his life afresh, yet returning after nine years
comfortably off, and holding a high position of great responsibility,
thanks to nobody but himself. Viceroys came and went, but Lord
William Beresford remained, year in and year out, becoming the
cornerstone of the social fabric of India, and ruling its society
with an iron hand, though very much gloved in velvet.
I remember comparing notes with him as to what we looked forward
to most on returning to England after a spell abroad. He said he
“yearned for Curraghmore and Piccadilly, and after that devilled sole
and brown bread and butter!”
Most people will, I think, sympathise with Lord William in his
longing for dear feverish London. She casts a spell over us all,
and when we are exiles the remembrance of her brings on more fits of
home-sickness than almost anything else, visions of Piccadilly come
back to us as we remember her perhaps in the still early morning,
when returning from balls and parties, the streets deserted by all
save a few market carts filled with cabbages and other garden produce
on the way to Covent Garden Market, a few lonesome souls sleeping
on benches between the policeman’s “move on” visits; or perhaps the
visions that come back to us are the evenings when the hurrying mass
of people, the cabs and carriages were all shrouded in the blue-grey
misty haze peculiar to London at night. We remember how we used to
speculate on where they were all hurrying to, and fit histories to
them, all so bent on tasting and testing life, often regardless
of consequences. Each individual wearing that self-absorbed
mind-your-own-business air, that is one of the fascinations of a
great city.
Lord William said he felt “beside” himself with joy when he again
beheld the buses and heard the newspaper boys, and then “The Eton
Boating Song,” so wrought with memories, played on a street organ
filled him with an ecstasy of joy and sadness. He heard again the
splash of the oars, saw again the pals of those old days whose names
were at one time on everybody’s lips, now only little black splashes
of ink on white paper.
I wonder if any of my readers remember the fine old man who used to
sit in the Row during the summer of 1885 fancying himself king; the
way he used to swagger up as if all the world belonged to him, his
servant walking immediately behind him watching for the imperious
wave of his master’s hand, which, being interpreted, meant he
wished to sit down. Two chairs were then hastily arranged, on one
of which he sat down with a good deal of action, the other proudly
supported his legs. This arrangement took up a good deal of room
where people were walking up and down, but nobody interfered with
this aristocratic-looking, well dressed and groomed old man, with his
large flowing moustache and huge button-hole, consisting one day of a
sunflower, another a peony, or something equally remarkable. The old
gentleman used to talk a good deal to himself about the bad manners
and ingratitude of his subjects who passed up and down without bowing
to him. We often wondered who he was. One day Lord William found
out from a policeman on duty in the park. An accident had upset the
equilibrium of the old sportsman’s brain, but he was quite harmless
and nobody objected to him, so he was allowed to remain. As our bad
manners and ingratitude caused him so much uneasiness, Lord William
suggested we should muster strong one day and march past in couples,
bowing deeply. We felt a little nervous as to what might happen, but
acquiesced, and we all marched past bowing and smiling, being amply
repaid for our courage by the evident pleasure of the king, who
took off his hat with a graceful flourish to us and presented the
sunflower out of his button-hole to one of the girls of our party.
Memories of those days come tumbling over one another with such
rapidity it is hard to know where to stop, the pleasure is so great
in recalling them.
One evening I remember well, during that same leave (I think) of
Lord William’s, he was dining with us, and after dinner somebody
said would I play some dance music as they wanted to dance, so we
adjourned to the dining-room and had it cleared at one end. After
dancing awhile, the men began American cock-fighting. There were some
fierce encounters and amusing scenes. I was still sitting by the
old cottage piano which stood in a corner of the room, when one of
the combatants, breathless from a contest with Lord Bill, came and
leaned against the piano whilst drinking a whisky and soda. Somehow
accidentally the greater part of the whisky and soda got upset down
into the vitals of the piano, the top being open at the time.
Poor old piano, it is going still, but the shock to its nervous
system was so great it every now and then has the sulks for a time,
until coaxed by a tuner into fresh efforts.
At the party to which I am referring, I remember the men with us were
Corney Grain, Gerry Portal, Jim Lowther, Lord Hay of Kinfauns, and
my young brother, as well as Lord William. Those who knew the men
will guess what the evening was like. I was afraid we should disturb
the neighbourhood with our laughter over an impromptu that Corney
Grain gave us at the partially intoxicated piano of his experiences
at the houses of some of his patrons where he had been engaged to
amuse the guests. No names were mentioned, but so excellent was his
mimicry that we at once recognised a number of people. Having been
cheered and heavily patted on the back he proceeded to give us a
musical sketch of a certain V.C. hero on board ship making love to
a shy young lady. Lord Bill was much tickled and so were we. It was
screamingly funny, and with our eyes shut we could have imagined it
was Lord William speaking, or perhaps I should say cooing.
This was followed by another sketch, this time Gerry Portal supposed
to be bamboozling some foreign potentate into believing we, the
British, were doing everything for his good, from pure unadulterated
philanthropy, while really benefiting ourselves. This was considered
too much, and brought the house down. They all set upon Mr. Grain,
who, I had better explain for those who never saw him, was a huge
man both in height and figure. He clung desperately on to the
music-stool with his legs and the piano with his hands, until the
piano, music-stool, and Mr. Grain began to move together first in one
direction and then another. Lord William tried to get his arms round
Mr. Grain’s rather voluminous waistcoat, and Mr. Gerry Portal tried
to untwiddle his legs from the music-stool. Jim Lowther seized the
tea-cosy from the sideboard and clapped it over the musician’s head.
This led to one hand relinquishing its grip on the side of the piano
to remove the head-dress, a weak moment on Mr. Grain’s part, for he
got separated from the instrument and dragged half across the room
when crack went the long-suffering music-stool, and he was on the
floor. My brother held the door open while the rest tried to eject
the man who dared to be ribald about Mr. Portal’s foreign policy,
but each time when it was nearly accomplished out flew a huge and
long leg slamming the door to again. At last, when all were hot and
exhausted, Mr. Grain was laid unresisting on the front-door mat.
We received many apologies next day from our guests for being
so uproarious, and Lord Bill wished to provide a new piano and
music-stool, but of course we would not hear of it. I never mean to
part with that piano, even when it gives up the ghost, for it has
witnessed many cheery parties, and has been with me long voyages
north, south, east and west.
In addition to all this froth and frolic Lord Bill had been doing
some useful business in the way of buying race-horses for himself
and his friends. He had also engaged the lightweight jockey named
Dunn, who arrived in India about the same time as his lordship
returned, ready for the October meeting at Umballa. While at home he
had purchased and sent out two or three horses and a pony for Indian
racing, amongst them, Metal, in hopes of carrying off some prizes at
Calcutta. The horse came from the Duke of Westminster’s stable, but
had disappointed his owner in the Goodwood Cup, Baron Hirsch’s horse
just beating him. What a cheery meeting it was, the 9th Lancers being
there under orders for home. They marched out of the station on the
last day of the races, the whole of the white population turning out
to give them a hearty send-off.
A great number of racing men collected there, combining their wish to
see the 9th Lancers off for home and see some racing. All were in
great form, and the fun was tremendous.
Lord William’s valuable Prospero won three races for his owner.
Dynamite and Oliver Twist also won a race each.
A rising Armenian barrister in Calcutta was also present, having
conceived a passion for racing and started a stable for the purpose.
In the club at Umballa on settling day a sporting match was arranged
between this barrister named Mr. Gasper and Lord Bill, the suggestion
coming from the former. The match was for 2000 rupees a side, P.P.,
each horse to carry not less than 8 stone 4 lbs., distance ¾ mile.
Horses to be named by 1 o’clock the day before the race, which was
to be run the last day of the first Calcutta meeting, horse to be
nominated by Lord William Beresford must be his property or the
property of H.H. the Maharajah of Durbangah.
Lord William hoped to win this on one of his new purchases named
Metal, but when the day arrived the horse was ill with colic so Mr.
Gasper’s Regulater walked over.
Great things were expected of Metal, and as the Maharajah of
Durbangah was very anxious to win the Viceroy’s Cup Lord William
sold the horse to him just before the race, and His Highness had the
pleasure of seeing his colours carried first past the post.
Tim Whiffler, who had been bought at the same time as Metal, had so
far not done anything worthy of record or the pay for his keep, and
at Tollygunge, running for the Ballygunge Cup, he went head over
heels at the first hurdle, rolling on his rider. This was an unlucky
race for most of the riders, as every horse fell except the winner,
Mr. Charles Moore’s Prospect. The second day Tim Whiffler won a race
after another fall.
At the second Calcutta meeting in January, Metal won the Kooch Behar
Cup after a good race with Sir Greville, belonging, I believe, to
Major Prior.
Trouble had been brewing in Burmah for some time, and Lord Dufferin
decided he would go and see for himself if things were working
satisfactorily. The British resident had been withdrawn owing to
King Thebaw (chiefly at the instigation of his unprincipled wife)
having massacred all the men-kind of the Royal Family with a view
to ensuring the stability of his throne. Commercial relations were
however maintained, and whispers reached Lord Dufferin of some sort
of treaty having been signed between the Burmese and the French,
by which the valuable ruby mines with other perquisites which in
parliamentary language would be termed accessories, had been leased
to a French trading company.
All this pointed to trouble in the future, especially as King Thebaw
was known to have expressed himself of the amiable intention of
driving “the white devils into the sea,” also it would not be wise to
allow British trades to be excluded. This was politely but forcibly
pointed out to the King, who was evasive and unsatisfactory. The
Secretary of State then gave instructions for an immediate advance
on Mandalay. King Thebaw begged for time, but was told nothing but
instant submission would be considered, under which circumstances
he would be spared and treated properly. He was only allowed a few
minutes in which to make up his mind, and it was thanks to this
promptness and decided policy of ours that the campaign came to a
satisfactory conclusion so quickly and with so little loss of life.
But we were not quite out of the wood as China was asking pertinent
questions about our future policy; but all was explained and approved
in a short time, and a convention signed giving England a free hand
in Burmah. In consequence of all this Lord Dufferin started on
February 3rd, 1886, to see for himself what was happening. Burmah
lying directly on the east of Bengal with a population of four
millions, it was regarded as a frontier over which we should keep a
jealous eye and some control. Besides, he was anxious that commercial
relations should be established with Thibet. Lord William as Military
Secretary was in attendance on His Excellency, receiving the medal
and clasp, being mentioned in despatches, and promoted to Brevet
Lieut.-Colonel. Speaking of the Burmese ladies he said they were most
enlightened and independent people, choosing their own husbands and
divorcing them also if they wished to do so.
The Viceroy was anxious to have our army considerably increased
in India. In Lord Ripon’s time the native army had been reduced,
but Lord Dufferin thought owing to changed circumstances a fresh
arrangement should be made, and that we should be in a position to
launch a strong force of both British and native troops on short
notice against any neighbour whose conduct was suspicious and
unsatisfactory. He also felt it would be better for the country
itself, but all he could get from the Government was an extra 11,000
men. Both Lord Dufferin and the Commander-in-Chief were against the
short service system for India, thinking both from the point of
utility and economy longer service would be better.
The work of the India Office filtered more or less through the hands
of the Military Secretary; he therefore was well posted in all these
questions under consideration and discussion.
Especially was he interested in Lord Roberts’ scheme for doing
away with the old army canteen, for it was he who inaugurated “The
Institute,” where not only could the men get their beer, but food as
well; they could sit down comfortably and write letters, play games
and read the papers. Places of this sort had been a long-felt want,
and they have been great successes and certainly conducive to less
drunkenness.
During Lord Dufferin’s time several important steps were taken in
the way of military reform, as he expressed himself plainly on the
difficulties of military administration under dual control, for
while the organisation and commissariat were worked by the superior
Government at home, the discipline, training, equipment, and matters
of that sort were ruled by the Commander-in-Chief.
Neither were the native troops forgotten, for now in commemoration
of the Queen’s Jubilee they received medals for good conduct and any
special services, also gratuities in much the same way as the English
soldiers.
Lord William, and indeed most of the thinking community in India at
this time were anxious as to the result of the higher education of
the natives, who, though finding their feet, were not yet able to use
them. He felt the education ought to benefit both them and us, but
would it?
I have often doubted whether some, even of Lord William’s more
intimate friends, fully recognised the more serious side of his
character. The world is ever prone to think that brilliancy excludes
wisdom, and gaiety is the enemy of common sense. As a matter of
fact there was a world of deep feeling and strength of character
underlying Lord William’s light-hearted manner.
At a big dinner party at Government House, Bombay, I remember
hearing a number of people discussing Lord William, his career,
racing successes, deeds of daring, etc., when someone asked the
rather unexpected question, “What is his religion?” The then
Commander-in-Chief replied, “I don’t believe he’s got one.” This was
surprising coming from a man who was both officially and socially
in almost daily association with him, proving what I have so often
thought that the faces of those around us, even those of our nearest
and dearest, may be photographed on our brains, while yet we know
little of their minds and hearts; they are sealed books to us.
Lord William’s religious feeling was profound, though his views
were not altogether orthodox, but there are some dogmatic doubts
while leading us away from the altar bring us nearer to the Throne.
Aristippus tells us “Good cheer is no hindrance to a good life.” His
lordship agreed with this founder of Hedonistic philosophy, but I
doubt if he had been asked to put down in black and white what his
religious convictions were, whether he could have clearly defined
them, any more than a great number of people could. It would be good
for us all if we had to put our faiths and beliefs into writing, but
what confused and contradictory statements they would make, and how
annoyed we should be if anybody dared to say so to us. Faith and
reason unfortunately will not walk kindly hand in hand, and Lord
William felt that amid the latter-day clash of theories, new fields
of thought were being opened to us, thoroughly recognising how some
of the old moth-eaten shibboleths, we have so often repeated, have
prevented us forming unbiased judgments. He maintained that ancient
religions had no creeds but were fed and brought up, so to speak, on
institutions and facts. Faith is not peculiar to Christianity, it
is the ordinary characteristic of the highly developed religions.
Lord Bill always said he felt it was possible to be a good Christian
without being a theologian. I think “good Christian” exactly
describes Lord Bill, yet how hard it is to define a good Christian
when ideals among Christians differ so greatly in different countries
and ages. St. Ethelreda was canonised for never washing; this was
not Lord Bill’s Christianity, though I have known some people who
certainly qualified, but as far as I know, have as yet, had no
justice displayed towards them. Then again St. Onofries was called a
saint because he disappeared into the desert seeing nobody and doing
nothing (so he said), but this saint does not matter at the present
moment; what does matter is the extreme difficulty we all find in
locating the middle distance between two points, when the points do
not stand still.
Lord William had his faults in common with the rest of us, but not
many can comfort themselves with the belief that they have done as
many kindly acts. He may not always have been aware of the amount
of good he did, for kindly acts towards ourselves make us kindly
to others, thereby forming a common good. That the happiness of
everybody depends to a certain extent on the forbearance and help
of others was part of Lord Bill’s religion. His charities, which
were many, were not of the order that creates multitudes of sins,
but covered them up, often, and helped those who had made grievous
mistakes, to begin afresh.
The nice little church at Simla used to echo with the sound of Lord
William’s clinking spurs as he walked up the aisle. One Sunday when
he was carrying round the collection plate, he halted in front of
a canny old colonel whose careful habits had made him decline to
subscribe towards the Annandale Races, which had annoyed Lord Bill,
so he held the plate, whispering audibly, “It’s Zenana this time, not
Gymkhana!”
The scene outside this church on Sundays and high days was curious,
as in the hills everybody rode to church, or came in hand-carried
or drawn equipages. When all the rank and fashion had entered the
building the syces with the many ponies congregated for a smoke and
chatter. The men who ran with the rickshaws and jampans after their
kind, followed suit, arranging their carriages in neat rows. The
owners usually dressed their carriers and runners in some distinctive
livery. One would have, say, claret-coloured coat, cut fairly long,
hanging square over the draped loin cloths which are worn instead of
trousers; only the head man indulged in this form of civilisation.
This combination of coat and loin cloth finished off with possibly a
yellow cumberbund twisted round their waists, and yellow puggeries
round their heads. Others would have brown and blue, and so on,
only the Viceregal party using scarlet, the many colours of the
liveries and the grouping of the natives and their charges forming a
picturesque foreground to the church, though very unusual to the mind
of the everyday English church-going community.
There were several matters occupying Lord William’s mind at this
time. The enlargement of the Annandale racecourse for one; this was
a great undertaking and a considerable expense which will be readily
understood, as big ravines had to be filled in and levelled as well
as portions of hills removed. His lordship subscribed handsomely
towards it himself, and some of the native princes, who were always
ready to help him in his endeavours for the good or pleasure of
the community, came to the fore also, subscribing liberally. While
the alterations were being carried out the usual races and sports
were taking place, tent-pegging, tilting at the ring, riding one
pony while leading another over the jumps, rickshaw races, which
proved highly exciting for the occupants, and mirth-provoking to the
on-lookers.
The building of the new Viceregal Lodge or Government House
also occupied a good deal of time, Lord Dufferin supervising and
directing. I have often wondered what the natives must have thought
when they had to build white-tiled kitchens and bath-rooms, and still
more what they felt when called upon to use a correct up-to-date
kitchen equipment.
I well remember when first I arrived in India being full of
high-flown ideas of revolutionising the cooking and cook-house
system. I was warned not to interfere, but to eat what was placed
before me and leave well alone; however, I was full of ardour and
proceeded to the cook-house to inspect the cooking-pots and arrange
everything to my liking. My splendid theories were doomed to instant
death. My experiences were such that for days I was without appetite
and never again had the pluck to face the cook-house. That was
long ago, no doubt now the natives have learnt to live up to and
appreciate modern luxuries.
Last, but by no means least, came Lady Dufferin’s scheme for the
benefit of Indian women. The Queen had asked Her Excellency just
before leaving for India to see what could be done to provide proper
medical aid and nursing for native women, who from their traditional
faiths and customs were unable to avail themselves of the knowledge
and help of men doctors. Lord William was very enthusiastic about
the work which was interesting Lady Dufferin, who, with her usual
thoroughness, soon placed it on firm feet. There was so much to
be considered; first of all the question of finance, still more
difficult the inherited traditional prejudices to be overcome in
conjunction with the superstitions and ignorance of the people of
India. For generations the appalling loss of life through ignorance
in the East had been regarded with the hebetude of fatalism.
Nevertheless in 1885 the work was begun under the mouth-filling title
of “The Countess of Dufferin’s National Association for supplying
female medical aid for the women of India.” It is well to take a good
long breath before starting on this impressive title.
Considering that the undertaking entailed the collecting of the
necessary funds, suitable places being found for the hospitals and
dispensaries, women to be trained as doctors, midwives, and hospital
assistants, and that each and all had to be under the superintendence
of or in the working hands of women for the treatment of their own
sex and children, it is really remarkable that it was so soon in more
or less working order, and speaks volumes for Lady Dufferin’s energy
and for the help of her co-workers.
I remember Lord William saying it would have a more far-reaching
civilising influence in the country than any other measure hitherto
contemplated. That these women doctors and nurses have been zealous
and capable is proved by the work that has been done. In 1901, that
is in six years, 1,755,734 patients passed through their hands, the
increase between the years 1895 and 1900 being 88,000, the whole of
this treatment having been carried out by forty fully qualified lady
doctors called 1st grade, 322 surgeons, 2nd grade, meaning they had
been taught in India and held that country’s qualifications, and 175
hospital assistants and helpers called 3rd grade.
The medical profession for man or woman is one that demands great
sacrifice, and it is a calling that perhaps comes the least before
the lime-light, for it does not advertise, seeks no rewards, no
medals, clapping, or bands to cheer and encourage, yet many are daily
performing heroic deeds, burning the candle at both ends in the cause
of suffering humanity, and for what? Not applause, they get none, not
reward, they get none from the world, but for love of their work,
because they feel there is no higher calling. I do not think many
people know how much this great work is indebted to Lord William’s
collecting and his own personal assistance. Anything in the way of
sickness and suffering appealed strongly to him. The Clewer Sisters
in Calcutta also have little idea where some of the anonymous gifts
came from that were I know from Lord William. Many treats enjoyed by
children were the result of Lord William’s thought and financing, but
he did not like people to know; he only wanted to make them happy and
reaped a real happiness himself in witnessing their pleasure.
He was keenly interested in the leaps and bounds made in later years
in the science and art of medicine. He could remember when it was the
proper thing to bleed people for fainting fits and apoplexy, when
it was quite usual to use the same family pocket knife to prune the
roses and perform minor operations, before what they a little later
called the faddists’ silly craze for sterilising instruments, came
into vogue. “Such silly fuss and nonsense!” Though, if I remember
right, it was only in George the II’s reign that a law was passed
forbidding the company of barbers from practising the art and science
of surgery, which sounds rather like Punch but is nevertheless a
fact, and can be found by an anxious enquirer in Statute 18, Cap. XV.
CHAPTER XI
SOME SPORTING MEMORIES
Lord William’s Driving--One of Two Experiences--A Sermon in the
Smoking-room--Useful Shirt Cuffs--Convenient Handwriting--New
Year’s Parade--A Waiting Race--A Spoilt Meeting--Purchase of Myall
King--Dufferins Leave India--Rules Issued by Lord William for Their
Departure
The Autumn Race Meeting at Meerut saw Prospero win the Merchants’
Purse, value 1,000 rupees, for Lord William, Ryder up; also the
St. Leger, value 1,500 rupees, with Tim Whiffler. The same month
(October) FitzWilliam won the Steward’s Purse at Lucknow, 2,110
rupees, the Pony Derby, 2,410 rupees, with Little Nell, all ridden by
Dunn. I have heard the winner of the Pony Derby called “Little Hell,”
partly from affection and partly because she gave others so little
chance, I presume!
I have always been under the impression that there is more money
to be made out of ponies and pony racing than in Viceroy’s cups.
In India a man who is a good judge of horse-flesh and knows their
points can often pick up ponies fairly cheaply in the serais, sort
of village cattle-market, where dealers are to be found with horses
and ponies for sale. Then if the purchaser has good hands and good
temper, he may be able to train some into good polo ponies, and
possibly win a race or two in a small way, after which good prices
may be realised, though some of the ponies bought in the rough, have
a tiresome way of growing after having reached the required height,
skilful shoeing is then the best chance to make them register the
proper standard. If after this they still persist in being too big
they can be sold as ladies’ hacks, if a woman has ridden them once.
Many poor men have been able to enjoy their lives and have all they
wanted in reason, thanks to their training and selling ponies they
have bought with an eye to business. I am speaking of some years ago,
possibly ponies and prices are different now.
The Simla season ends in October, and the gaiety and festivities are
carried on at Calcutta on a more pronounced scale though with less
of the family party feeling, owing to the larger community. The poor
big-wigs do not have much peace in either place, it is so difficult
to escape from people, who, though doubtless are many of them
charming in themselves, the amount of bowing and scraping they entail
is fatiguing.
One Commander-in-Chief I knew simplified matters by riding along
looking straight ahead and seeing nobody, taking no more notice of
the crowd of amiable people waiting to bow and smile than if they
were so many little dogs wagging their tails. At first this gave
offence, which did not greatly upset the good man’s calm, but before
long it was recognised as a mercy and something to be thankful for.
Lord William’s coach was quite a feature in Calcutta Society, the
turn-out was smart, the driver cheery, and a good whip, small wonder
that most people liked to receive an invitation to accompany his
lordship on some of his jaunts. I have sat beside some pretty whips
one time and another in my life, far and away the most accomplished
being Lord William Beresford; next to him a good second was the late
Mr. Ben Cotton, for some time Master of the Isle of Wight Foxhounds.
One year after the races at Calcutta, where Lord William had been
riding in several and had a bad fall, dislocating his shoulder,
notwithstanding which he drove his coach laden with friends off the
course, through the thronged streets, the horses very fresh and
pulling hard; but beyond the fact that he was looking very white
nobody would have known anything was the matter with him, and all
reached their homes in safety.
Another day when returning from a picnic at the Botanical Gardens on
the opposite side of the river to Calcutta his coach-load had a near
shave of a nasty accident. Sir John Hext, who was on the staff of
two Viceroys with Lord Bill, was one of the party at the time, and
tells me they started away from the trysting-place rather late, when
it was quite dark, and somehow managed to miss the road; the horses
were longing to get away, and were scarcely under control. Having
got off the road the next thing to do was to get on again as soon as
possible, not an easy matter, but nobody spoke, and Lord William kept
his head; by a piece of dexterous driving he tooled them safely under
large low hanging branches of trees, round trunks of trees, and over
all sorts of uncomfortable places before reaching their destination.
All on board were holding their breath awaiting disaster at any
moment, happily none occurred, thanks to good driving.
I really think Lord William thoroughly enjoyed hairbreadth escapes;
he always seemed especially pleased after one that would have left
most people limp, to say the least of it. His driving powers were
certainly put to the test sometimes, and during exciting and critical
moments his eyes seemed to become bigger, bluer, and fiercer.
Coming over the Howrah Bridge one day, the hook of the pole-piece
came off and dropped the bars on to the leaders’ hocks. This not
being part of the usual programme they objected to it, not quite
knowing what was the proper thing to do under the circumstances,
whether to kick the thing to pieces, jump over the bridge, or run
away. Owing to their not being concerted in their action Lord William
decided it for them, allowing them a little of each, but none for
long; owing no doubt to these little concessions there was no
accident, but when all reached home safely a few pointed remarks were
made to the man who had been entrusted with the revarnishing of the
coach, in return for his forgetfulness in not bolting the pole-piece
on again properly.
Sir John Hext, now Rear-Admiral, was a great friend of Lord Bill’s
(they were on Lord Dufferin’s and Lord Lansdowne’s staff together),
he tells me an interesting story of his old friend; it happened at
the end of one of the Calcutta race weeks. As usual Lord William had
been hard at work all day. There was an extra large party staying
in Government House, it had overflowed to such an extent that Lord
William was obliged to put up tents in the grounds for some of the
young soldiers and men who were of the party. After dinner the
aides-de-camp’s room was full of men guests staying in the house. Lord
William came in late about 11.30 and, not seeing Sir John and Capt.
Harbord, fellow-staffites, curled up in arm-chairs at the far end of
the room, he proceeded to preach what was virtually a most excellent
sermon on the evils of gambling and racing, holding himself up as the
frightful example. Sir John says, “If that sermon could have been
taken down by a shorthand writer, and a few slight expurgations made,
it was one that any Bishop might have been proud to preach. Being
without exceptions the most practical sermon he ever heard in his
life.”
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD IN 1886]
One of the most remarkable things about Lord William was his memory;
he never forgot anything and was the soul of punctuality, which
considering his multitudinous duties was praiseworthy. He was little
short of a genius, for even when Government House was crammed full
of guests to overflowing, all to be servanted and fed, each to be
treated with the consideration demanded by their rank, endless
dinners, parties, and receptions to be arranged with carefully
considered etiquette and precedence, people to be met, taken away,
amused; Rajahs’ and Nabobs’ interviews with His Excellency to be
arranged, the stables to be attended to, with at least sixty horses
for the use of the Government House party. This alone is no trifle.
It was part of Lord William’s work to have horses suitable to all
occasions. There must be tame and docile carriage-horses for Her
Excellency, who may be nervous, but they must step up to their noses
and look full of mischief, otherwise they would not be impressive and
therefore valueless for their purpose; as it is important that all
state ceremonials should be highly spectacular. Then the chargers for
His Excellency must understand birthday parades and _feux de joie_
for it would never do to have the Viceroy standing on his head in
the middle of the Maidan, while his charger either joined the crowd
of onlookers or returned to the stables. Lord William took endless
pains to train the horses to their special duties, like the Balaclava
heroes, guns were fired to the right of them, guns to the left of
them, just by way of practice and to teach them to behave nicely
and pretend they heard nothing, and if they did--well what matter.
There must also be plenty of carriages and horses at the disposal
of the guests. The mounts must be chosen to suit the prowess of the
individuals. One may want to cut a dash in a paper-chase, another
simply a gentle amble to eat the air, and so on. Once a Bath-chair
was requisitioned, but Lord William never turned a hair. A Bath-chair
was forthcoming at the time it was desired, where it came from was
a mystery. Then there were the viceregal tours already mentioned to
be arranged some time in advance. Picture what it means to write out
programmes for 365 days in advance--not for one person--but for many.
After all his duties had been attended to most punctiliously there
were his own horses and affairs requiring attention. Yet never was
there as much as a cushion forgotten for Her Excellency. Beyond a
tiny notebook and his shirt sleeves everything was carried in his
head. I have seen some wonderful notes on the cuffs of his shirt. An
English laundry-maid of an enquiring turn of mind might have compiled
an amusing diary from them, though a little cryptic. Seeing some
hieroglyphics on one of his cuffs one day at luncheon, I asked if I
might be permitted to know what they meant; he shot out the cuff and
showed it to me; it was not altogether easy to decipher, but with a
little assistance I read:
“Viceroy’s bath.” “Sack Syce.” “19 Guns.” “Pacify Mrs. B.”
He explained he had made a note of these little items requiring
attention. I asked if it was part of his duty to give the Viceroy a
bath, but he said, “No, but the bath leaked and his note reminded
him to replace it with a sound one.” “Sack Syce” meant there had
been slackness in the stables and a certain syce would have to go.
Nineteen guns sounded a big order and rather mysterious, but it had
to do with a Native Prince who considered he had not received enough
salutes or too many, I forget which, and his lordship wished to
adjust the matter. Then came “Pacify Mrs. B.” I gathered a certain
lady had been deeply pained at the way her name had been spelt on
one of the invitation cards, a very important “e” had been left out,
which made her name look quite commonplace, and she felt it had been
done on purpose. Lord William was going to put the matter straight
and the “e” in its right place.
It can easily be imagined the amount of correspondence Lord William
had to attend to, it was enormous, happily he had a clerk who wrote
so like him it was almost impossible to tell one from the other. The
Military Secretary was much praised for being such a good sort, fancy
so busy a man answering all the letters himself! That clerk was most
convenient.
Lord William used to tell some amusing stories of the way people
approached him with a view to using his influence with the Viceroy
in their favour. Various methods were adopted by those who wanted
his help, they mostly began by expressing great affection for his
lordship, and profound admiration.
Being a kind-hearted man, Lord Bill did his best to further
everybody’s wishes, and if they were in any way possible presented
the matter to His Excellency for consideration.
Occasionally some Native Chief thought he ought to have some
concessions, decorations or invitations, and asked Lord William to
help him in the matter, once when this had occurred and the answer
was longer coming than the Chief liked, he thought he would expedite
matters by making a handsome present to his lordship and at the
same time asking when his request was going to be granted. This, of
course, settled the matter, as it was undoubtedly meant as a bribe
and was reported at once to the Viceroy--needless to say the favour
was not granted.
It seems rather hard that while we, the British people, give presents
to the Chiefs, we are not allowed to receive any in return, that is
to say none of any value; but no doubt it is wise.
New Year’s Day is a great holiday in India, the birthday, so to
speak, of the Queen-Empress, January 1st being the anniversary of
the Delhi Durbar when she was declared Empress of India. There are
endless big parades all over India in honour of this occasion. At
Calcutta there is always a most imposing military parade which
everybody turns out to witness, putting on their best bibs and
tuckers, as their share in its impressiveness.
It is a busy and anxious day for the Military Secretary, for in
addition to all his other work he is wondering whether after all his
training, the Viceroy’s charger will behave properly when the dreaded
moment arrives for the firing of the _feu-de-joie_. The horses under
his care may have been properly broken--the horses belonging to other
people may not, and when the show begins if one horse begins playing
the fool in all probability others will follow suit. There is a vast
amount of ceremony attached to these parades. The Viceroy puts on
all his war paint, throws out his chest, and rides down the lines of
troops drawn up for his inspection, followed by his glittering staff,
everybody feels it behoves them to polish buttons and do an extra
brush up, even the Vice-reine’s coachman indulges in an extra shave
and endures the middle button of his coat buttoned up, just until the
ceremony is over.
Nobody takes the least notice of all these efforts to be extra smart;
but perhaps it would be noticed if they did not, and nobody would
perceive it more quickly than the Military Secretary.
After examining all the lines of troops drawn up for his inspection
the Viceroy returns to the saluting point, and the Artillery let
themselves go with ten rounds in the Imperial Salute followed with
the much dreaded _feu-de-joie_, when so much dignity is often _nolens
volens_ cast to the wind. On one of these birthday parades I remember
seeing the horse of a big official unship its rider and then after
various gallopings caused much confusion by playing tunes with its
heels on a big drum against which it seemed to bear some grudge,
when he had finished with it, it drummed no more, at any rate for
the time being; but to continue with the orthodox proceedings. After
this fusillade follows the National Anthem with all the massed bands
playing together, then the Artillery have another innings, until
thirty-one guns have done their best.
In all probability the Viceroy knows little about troops, what they
should look like, what they should do, or how many buttons make five
on the men’s uniforms, but his Military Secretary will have primed
him.
Everybody says it is a horrid bore, but they enjoy it all the same.
I must not forget one of the most important features in the day’s
show, namely, the final cheers for the Empress of India and the march
past. The cheering proves as trying to the horses generally as the
_feu-de-joie_.
We were trying to guess the number of people looking on, and asked
Lord William what he considered would be somewhere near the figure,
and he told us there were quite 100,000 on the Maidan, and it was not
an unusual number on these occasions.
The year 1886 brought several annoyances and disappointments to the
Military Secretary in connection with his racing. In the first place
Metal failed to win him the Viceroy’s Cup, which he had counted on;
Mr. Gasper, who has been already introduced to the reader, beating
him with Mercury. Coveting this horse his lordship made an offer
for him to Mr. Gasper, resulting in the grey Australian changing
his stable and his owner for the sum of 10,000 rupees, which was
considered cheap.
There was rather a tragic little episode at this meeting though
it had nothing to do with Lord William. A smart little chestnut
belonging to Mr. Abbott won The Trials in the shortest time on record
and dropped dead immediately after passing the winning-post from
rupture of the heart, poor little beast.
The first race Mercury ran for Lord William was for the Durbangah
Cup, and he won; following it up with the Kooch Behar Cup, but
in this race there was only one other horse against him, namely,
Mr. Mullick’s Sir Greville. This was really a very funny race as
evidently both jockeys had received orders to ride a waiting race,
this they did with a vengeance, for when the flag fell neither of
them hurried at all, but moved quietly along keeping boot to boot,
both being determined to wait, this manœuvre continued, much to
the amusement of the spectators until within half a mile from the
winning-post, when both sat down to ride for all they were worth.
Mercury won, but Mr. Mullick’s jockey pressed Dunn so closely into
the rails that poor Mercury got rather badly cut.
Another Beresford-Durbangah horse won the Alipore Plate and Bolero
the Jubilee Purse. At Tollygunge, though that good horse Prospero
won the Handicap Chase, poor Tim Whiffler, who had such a habit
of falling, this time turned head-over-heels when running for the
Ballygunge Cup, breaking his thigh and having to be shot.
Bad luck seemed to be dogging Lord William’s footsteps at this time,
for Mercury, who had been doing so well, and from whom great things
were hoped, caught a chill, followed by fever, from which he died.
Then again, after the annual move to Simla, and he was running
Little Nell in the Bazaar Stakes, on the Annandale Course, though he
won with her, there was a good deal of unpleasantness attached to
the race, owing to Captain Wood, of the 8th Hussars, who was also
riding a pony for a brother officer, and who came in second, lodging
a complaint directly after the race, saying Dunn, Lord William’s
jockey, had jostled him. This rather spoilt the pleasure of the
meeting for everyone. The race had been witnessed by a number of
people, friends of both parties in question; several thought they
could explain it all, and proceeded to air their views, hoping by
so doing to ease matters and straighten it out, instead of which,
further complications ensued. This was followed a little later at
Calcutta with fresh annoyance over the Arab named Euclid, belonging
to the Confederacy. Lord William heard some people had been making
remarks about the performances of this horse, which they seemed to
consider unsatisfactory; he therefore at once asked the stewards of
the Calcutta Turf Club to inquire into the matter and give their
opinion; this they did, saying they found nothing leading to any
such conclusion as had been suggested. So Lord William came out on
top.
For years Lord William declared no Australian horse could touch the
English, but Mercury caused him to change his mind, this horse’s
performances having been almost phenomenal. In consequence of being
bitten with the grey Australian, and not content with having between
twenty and thirty horses already in training, he gave the well-known
Australian dealer, Mr. Weekes, a commission to bring him one or two
of the “real things” from Melbourne.
When the dealer returned from Australia, he brought with him two
horses for Lord William, Myall King and Golden Gate. I do not
remember hearing of the latter doing anything encouraging, and Myall
King made a poor show to begin with, and his new master said a few
things not altogether complimentary to the dealer in connection with
his selection, but before long changed his mind, Myall King becoming
his greatest favourite, winning three Viceroy’s Cups for him, the
first on December 24th, 1887, value 7000 rupees. When Lord William
was leading his horse in after the race, thoroughly pleased and
happy, the excited and delighted Mr. Weekes, who had purchased the
horse for his lordship and who had been brooding over the names he
had been called when first he brought Myall King over, rushed up to
Lord William holding out his hand for joy, saying, “Now do you still
say I am a something something thief?”
“No,” replied Lord Bill, taking the proffered hand; “indeed you are
all something something right.”
“Then you will come and stay with me in Melbourne, won’t you?”
“Of course I will,” said his lordship, only too anxious to move on.
Myall King also won the Durbangah Cup, £150, on the 30th of the same
month.
In the summer of 1887 Lord William bought up the lease of the Dehra
Doon course, over which he spent some time and trouble, getting it
into good order; he kept it up entirely at his own expense until
he left India. He removed all his horses there, also the Viceregal
horses, being a good climate for them.
People in India were beginning to be rather frightened of Lord
William’s string of horses, saying it was no use entering theirs
against him, that they had no chance. I remember hearing a good deal
of this at Lucknow, but it was not quite a fact, as his lordship
found out to his cost occasionally. He certainly had a formidable
string of horses, and he wanted to be on top, where to a certain
extent he was, but in racing there is always the element of chance to
be reckoned with, horses going wrong, jockeys making mistakes, and
no end of other things to be taken into consideration. He sent his
horses to all parts of India for race meetings, even to Poona.
The Spring Meeting at Lucknow of 1888 inaugurated one of his
lordship’s most successful racing years in India. I always feel sorry
he was not able to carry out all his racing single-handed, but he did
it on such a big scale it became more than one pocket could stand,
hence the partnership. The Lucknow races in February brought in 7625
rupees in stakes alone--
Empress winning the All Ponies Handicap Dunn riding
Myall King ” Stewards’ Purse Dunn ”
Lavercost ” Derby Tingey ”
Little Nell ” Mahamet Bagh Plate Elliott ”
In March at Meerut followed more wins, Little Nell, Solheil, Bob,
Treasure, and Lavercost roping in 3015 rupees in stakes between them.
The Dufferins’ term of office was up in 1888. They had the pleasure
of seeing the new Viceregal Lodge finished before their departure,
and enjoyed its roomy comfort after the very circumscribed Peterhoff.
Against that they had the discomfort of the move from one house to
the other, with one half of their possessions in one house and the
other half in the other, when, as usually happens on such occasions,
whatever is wanted is sure to be where they are not.
Lord Dufferin had done a good deal of useful work in India,
undertaking various reforms and costly measures that his predecessors
had seen the advisability of, but postponed, fearing the expense; he
consequently left the country (I am told) with a decided financial
deficit, to be dealt with by someone else.
On his retirement he was created Marquess of Dufferin and Ava, the
latter taken from the city of that name a few miles from Mandalay.
Of course there was the usual speculation as to whether Lord William
would stay on as Military Secretary. India without Lord William
seemed at that time an impossible thing to contemplate.
It might be imagined after so many years of India, combined with the
exceptionally strenuous life he led, that his spirits and ceaseless
stream of humour and fun might have begun to fail him, yet this was
far from the case, he still led the van in fun and frolic.
As the time drew near for the departure of the Dufferins, he issued
the proper and usual orders for all concerned, leaving nothing
unthought of for everyone’s comfort. Then, wag as he was, he issued
the following order, and had it delivered in print to the A.D.C. in
attendance on the departing Viceregal party.
_Rules to be observed by the A.D.C. in attendance on their
Excellencies the Viceroy and the Marchioness of Dufferin and Ava
after their departure from Calcutta and until their arrival at Aden._
1. The A.D.C. in waiting will have the kindness to report himself
every morning in the undress uniform of His Excellency’s staff, and
will appear in the same at every station at which any officials
meet His Excellency.
2. At early Tea, Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner he will wear a sword.
3. During their Excellencies’ stay at Bombay the A.D.C. in waiting
will always appear in uniform.
4. On board the _Kaiser-i-Hind_ the A.D.C. in waiting will visit
the decks at 4 a.m. and will see that the cleaning operations are
performed quietly.
5. He will be so good as not to wear boots before 7 a.m.
6. He will be so obliging as to appear in uniform at breakfast and
to wear it until sunset.
7. The A.D.C. in waiting will take His Excellency’s orders after
breakfast, and in the event of his services not being required
by the outgoing Viceroy, he will be so kind as to see if Her
Excellency wishes to be supported on deck, or if the young ladies
need assistance.
8. The A.D.C. in waiting will be so good as personally to submit
to the Captain any wishes the ladies’ maids may express, and to
endeavour to have them carried out.
9. The A.D.C. in waiting will please see that the chairs, cushions,
rugs, and books of His Excellency and of the ladies are arranged on
the deck by 10 a.m.
10. At 12 o’clock he will kindly see that they all have Beef Tea.
11. He will be expected to render assistance to the Captain in
every emergency, and to be the master of all the ceremonies during
fine weather.
12. As His Excellency’s policeman does not accompany him to Aden,
the A.D.C. in waiting must endeavour to learn a few Persian stories
for the occasion, which he will repeat to His Excellency for one
hour daily while pacing up and down the deck.
13. He will also, while listening to the Persian stories which His
Excellency will relate to him, say “Hau” at intervals of one second
during the whole time the narrative continues. He will also be kind
enough to wear an expression of profound attention.
14. In rough weather the A.D.C. in waiting will be permitted to put
on a waterproof coat over his uniform and to use his chin strap.
15. His services can on no occasion be dispensed with during the
first five days of the voyage; he will therefore be expected to
keep in good health, and can on no pretext be allowed to call for
the services of the steward.
16. At Aden the A.D.C. in waiting will be relieved from duty.
(Signed) WILLIAM BERESFORD, Lieut.-Col.,
Military Secretary to the Viceroy.
SIMLA, _November 6th, 1888_.
The A.D.C. in question, of course, knew Lord Bill’s little ways, how
much was earnest and how much fun, and appreciated the thoughtful
concession of allowing a chin strap and waterproof to be used during
rough weather, for more reasons than one.
It was shortly before the Dufferins left India that Lord William
and five other members of the Viceroy’s staff in one of their
lighter moments when dressed in their racing kit, jumped into a
merry-go-round for a ride and were snapshotted. Lord William is on
the extreme right sitting sideways; next to him in front is Capt.
Roddy Owen; standing up in the striped jacket is Capt. Burn,
generally known as “Handsome Charlie”; then comes Capt. Harbord (now
Lord Suffield) riding a finish; behind him Capt. Leonard Gordon and
Capt. H. Legge. A light-hearted little party, overflowing with good
humour and health, much of which was the result of the amount of
exercise they were in the habit of taking. Sportsmen and those of
an energetic tendency keep their health much longer when in India
than their brethren who resign themselves to the climate with books,
eating, drinking, and sleep, the latter being the natural consequence
of the former.
[Illustration: THE VICEROY’S STAFF IN LIGHTER MOMENTS]
Feeling a little holiday would be beneficial Lord William went home
in April on three months’ leave, his string of forty odd horses
remaining at Dehra Doon in the pleasant cool shade of its many fine
trees, but before leaving he attended the March Umballa Meeting, when
his Treasure won two races, the Service Stakes 900 rupees, Capt.
Macdougall riding, and the open Pony Race 850 rupees, Dunn riding;
Eunice the Paget Park Plate 300 rupees, Melbourne Plate with Myall
King 200 rupees, Dunn riding.
CHAPTER XII
A WINNING YEAR
On Leave--At the Derby Once More--Lord Lansdowne Takes
Office--Conjurer’s Discomfort--A Gentle Reproach--Irishmen
in India--Another Racing Partnership--A Turf Club
Inquiry--Paperchasers--A Telegram from Lucknow--Lord William’s
Health--Jockey in Trouble Again
Three months is not a long leave to spend at home, it seems to be all
coming and going; it really was not long enough to pick Lord William
up properly--he was badly in need of English air and fare.
A good part of this brief holiday was spent racing and attending to
racing matters. He bought a horse called Pennant, winning a race
with him at Croydon value £200. Oberon was another he purchased, but
turned out rather unreliable. Clarion was also added to his string.
Being at home in time to see the Derby run, he was enthusiastically
greeted by all his old friends, and had a great time. I rather think
it was at this Derby or Ascot that Sir Claude De Crespigny coming up
behind what he recognised as a Beresford back, said “Good morning,
Marcus,” and then, seeing he had made a mistake and it was Lord
William, asked whom he should apologise to? Without an instant’s
hesitation came the reply, “Marcus, of course, you’ve taken the elder
brother for the younger.”
All the Beresford brothers were smart at repartee; indeed I think
they would be hard to beat. Someone asked Lord Charles which of his
brothers he considered the quickest at repartee. To which he replied:
“Marcus. It was only this morning when walking down Regent Street,
ahead of us was a doddering old Irish peer, one of the Backwoodsmen
who came over once a year to vote against Home Rule, I said, ‘Marcus,
if you were a despotic monarch would you keep that Irish nobleman in
your House of Lords?’ ‘Yes,’ said Marcus, ‘I think I should, but I
should fire him first on the _Coronet_.’”
The smartness of this may be lost upon people who are not horsy and
therefore do not know that the part of a horse’s anatomy between the
fetlock and the hoof is termed the coronet.
The Marquess of Lansdowne succeeded Lord Dufferin as Governor-General
of India, holding the office from 1888 to 1893. No events of great
importance occurred during his administration; there were some small
frontier expeditions, but we did not hear much about them.
[Illustration:
_Photo. Elliott & Fry_
THE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE]
In 1893, at the end of Lord Lansdowne’s reign, Sir Mortimer Durand,
then Foreign Secretary to the Indian Government, was sent on a
mission to Kabul with a view to defining the limits of influence of
the British Government and the Amir, with respect to the independent
tribes in the wide belt of country between Afghanistan and British
India. However, we are not yet dealing with 1893 but 1888, when Lord
Lansdowne had only just taken office. He was fond of horses and
racing, therefore watched his Military Secretary’s horses work
with sympathetic interest.
From 1888 to 1894 were Lord William’s best racing years in the East,
and all his spare time was devoted to it.
At the November Lucknow meeting his racing partner, His Highness of
Durbangah, won the Stewards’ Purse with FitzWilliam, Dunn up, Daphne
the Dilkoosha Stakes, Soheil, an Arab, the Pony Handicap. On the
third day, a pony named Brandy the Paddock Stakes for maiden ponies,
besides various others which I forget.
At the Calcutta chief meeting FitzWilliam won the Trials by way of a
good beginning. Eunice, who had at one time and another won a good
many races for Lord William, now won the Karnaul Stakes. Metal was
backed for a small fortune for the Viceroy’s Cup, when one of those
unexpected things happened which must always be reckoned with in
racing; he was beaten by his stable companion making the pace too hot
for him, and Myall King again romped in a winner. They also won races
with Pekoe and Shamhad, while a grey English mare named Venus, whom
nobody expected to do anything, won the Eclipse Stakes for them. Lord
Clyde and Clarion won a couple of races at the Extra Meeting, making
a tremendous winning year, but not a profitable one taking it all
round.
It was at this juncture that beautiful Arab pony Blitz came upon the
scenes; the charming picture of him was given to me by Admiral Sir
John Hext, who agreed with Lord Bill “he was one of the best that
ever looked through a bridle.” Lord William sold Metal about this
time for £500 to someone in Australia.
During the Simla season he rode a good many races himself on
Hardware, Nancy and Shamshad. He also won a match on Hakim against
Mr. Laureston’s Prince Charlie, 2000 rupees a side.
In July news reached Lord Bill of the death from heart disease of Mr.
Fitch, who for some years had looked after and conducted the Calcutta
lotteries, also acted as secretary to the Dehra Races. The poor man
died in England while home for a holiday. Lord William felt much
regret, for he had been closely associated with him, naturally, over
racing matters.
Mr. Fitch was another of the many men his lordship had befriended; in
fact had been set on his feet and owed all his success in life to him.
The season was jogging along much in the usual fashion, plunging
from the sublime to the ridiculous and the ridiculous to the sublime
all the time. In India we all become dual natured, whether it is the
climate, the atmosphere we live in, or the desire to leave no time
_to think_ I do not know; but we may in the morning be told, someone
with whom we have been in daily touch is dead--we say how sad, open
our letters, and make all our arrangements for the day’s amusements,
which we fulfil, leaving just time to pay a last tribute to one
whose hand we have so often held, whose voice and laughter is still
sounding in our ears; we then hurry home from the cemetery and go
out to dinner, or to the theatre, and home to bed late, hoping to be
so tired that sleep will claim us immediately. It is not that we are
callous really, far from it; the sad news in the morning has left
a lonesome feeling in our hearts, an aching for the poor body who
such a short time ago was full of all he or she were going to do when
they went “home,” it makes home seem very far away and the present so
full of prickling possibilities, and we feel we must laugh or cry,
and our English objection to wearing our hearts on our sleeves makes
us appear gay, and thus we are pitch-forked from the sublime to the
ridiculous and vice versa, still if we never reached the sublime we
should miss the picturesqueness.
I once asked Lord Bill when we were speaking of this very matter,
that is to say, the amount of feeling we contrived to hide in our
everyday life, when he told me of several strange things that had
happened in his life of which he had had strong pre-sentiments; one
was in connection with racing, and the others purely private matters;
this led me to ask him if he was superstitious; he replied, “I like
to think I am not, but I am always very careful not to wound people’s
susceptibilities on that point, having some of that feeling which is
supposed to make us wondrous kind.”
Superstition is a thing I suppose that can hardly be described or
accounted for, as some of the happenings in our lives refuse to be
explained by any hitherto understood methods or any rules or lines of
our acquaintance; and also there are times when we are not ourselves,
oh strange and bitter paradox!
Lord William’s way of keeping people in order was very much to the
point generally, and yet he did it very charmingly. An A.D.C. once
had been hauled over the coals by him, and at the end of it said,
“What a good fellow Lord Bill is, how thoroughly he rubbed me down,
and yet how like a gentleman.”
Another rather amusing instance was when the Rajah of Nabha was
giving a party or entertainment to Lord Lansdowne. A conjurer had
been engaged to amuse those present; he was a rather persistent
personage, at that time wandering round India seeking a living, and
performing at native courts.
Lord William, who of course had the arranging of all this sort of
functions, told this professor his entertainment must not last more
than twenty minutes; this he strongly objected to, declaring it
would entirely spoil his show, did not give him a chance, and so
on, he would require at least an hour. While expressing his sorrow
at causing so much annoyance and disappointment, Lord Bill stuck to
his point and said not more than twenty minutes could possibly be
allowed; he evidently saw defiance in the man’s attitude, and made
his arrangements accordingly.
The performance began, Lord William looking on, watch in hand. At
the end of a quarter of an hour the British magician was warned he
had only five minutes more. He took no notice, and continued his
lofty way. At the end of twenty minutes he was told to stop. Still
he took no notice, continuing his tricks and patter, when at a sign
from Lord William a native conjurer, who had been watching huddled
up in a corner, bounded into the middle of the floor with a tom-tom
and commenced a most deafening and unearthly noise. A tom-tom, it
should be explained, is a rattling sort of thing rather like a drum
gone wrong. The native had been waiting for the sign of command,
watching the conjurer much as a terrier watches a rat, waiting to be
told to “Go.” This indignity was too much for the white performer, he
collapsed, and the native then proceeded to make mango trees grow in
a few seconds out of stones and from under flower-pots, etc. Those
present were much tickled at the whole proceeding.
One more of Lord William’s gentle reproaches. This time it was
addressed to a youth fresh out from home, where he had been much
spoilt; he was complaining about the disrespectful way the regiment
he had just joined treated him, he was not accustomed to be treated
in such a manner. The poor lad was learning that painful but
wholesome lesson, his value in public opinion, and he did not like
it. Thinking he had a sympathetic listener in Lord William, and not
knowing him as well as some of us did, the twinkle in his eye did not
act as a warning, and at last the lad worked himself up to such a
pitch of feeling over his wrongs that he said he should write to his
mother and tell her he should return home at once. No words had come
from Lord Bill, who appeared to be full of interest and sympathy,
but when he was told that the unhappy youth meant to return to his
mother, he said sweetly and quietly, “But, my dear chap! think what
a disappointment it would be to her!” Even then the young lad did
not at first grasp what was meant, but when Lord Bill added, “After
fixing you up with new shirts and pocket handkerchiefs, to have you
back on her hands so soon.”
Lord William, seeing the boy was nearly tearful, walked off with
him, arm-in-arm, talked it all over quietly, gave some good advice,
and, I understand, left the poor boy happier and probably much wiser.
What a number of Irishmen have ruled in India and been famous there.
Lord Mayo, born in Dublin, who in 1868 succeeded Lord Lawrence. I
should think he was the only Governor-General who had farmed for his
livelihood, and be it noted made enough to live upon. When he came
of age he was Mr. Bourke. His father, whose eldest brother was then
living, could not afford him any sort of allowance, but rented one of
his farms to him to try and make what he could out of it, and I have
been given to understand he did make it pay, which is more than many
gentlemen farmers do, methinks!
Lord Mayo is reported to have said, “And many a long day have I stood
in the market selling my beasts.”
Then there was Lord Connemara, Governor of Madras, responsible for
the well-being and happiness of thirty million souls; Lord Lansdowne,
a Kerry nobleman; Lord Roberts, a Waterford hero of Kandahar fame;
Lord William Beresford, V.C., the unequalled Military Secretary and
patron of the turf; Sir George White, V.C., who brought Burmah into
order; Sir David Barbour, a perfect juggler in figures, who brought
the much feared and dreaded financial deficit of the country to a
considerable surplus, and many more if there were time and space to
recount them.
The Annandale Racecourse was now enlarged and levelled. It had cost
large sums of money, but was satisfactory, and the races now began
to draw horses from Umballa and Meerut. The lotteries on the first
day’s racing after the new course was “declared open,” as they say at
bazaars, amounted to 20,000 rupees, so Lord William hoped it would
not be long before the debt on the ground was paid off. A little
lady, who was one of Lord William’s most devoted admirers (aged six),
was crying one day at Simla when he happened to look in on the way
down to one of the gymkhanas, and when he asked her what was the
matter and took her on his knee, she threw her arms round his neck
weeping salt tears down his collar, saying, “Mover won’t let me go
and see you run in your pyjamas.” This required a little explanation.
He gathered she had heard her mother and friends talking about some
race they hoped he would win at the coming gymkhana. Not having been
very long in the country she had got a little mixed between gymkhana
and pyjamas. Lord Bill pleaded so hard for his little friend to be
allowed to go to the meeting, consent was at last given, and he said
he could see in the child’s eyes how disappointed she was that he did
not appear in pyjamas after all.
In October the usual exodus took place, and Lord Bill found time
to see some of his horses win races at the November 1889 Lucknow
meeting. Blitz, beautiful Blitz, won the Dilkoosha Stakes; Nellie the
Little Go Chase, FitzWilliam the Bar Cup, Betsy the Standard Plate.
At Dehra, Meerut and Umballa he won four races. He rode in the Meerut
Charger Race himself, winning on Jim. At Pindi he rode one of the
races, winning on Landshart II; the other two were won by Daphne and
Ensign. Four races in one day to the credit of his stable.
A little later, at the Calcutta 1889-90 races his Euclid seemed to be
losing form, but Pennant was going strong and won the Trials; Chester
also won the Pony Cup.
Lord William’s racing partner, His Highness the Maharajah of
Durbangah, was most anxious to be a winner of the Viceroy’s Cup, and
Pennant being in Lord William’s opinion the likely winner, with his
characteristic kindliness sold the horse to His Highness just before
the race, so that the Durbangah colours might be carried. The horse
won easily, greatly to his new owner’s pleasure.
That wonderful pony, Lord Clyde, won the International Pony Race.
Speaking at the Turf Club dinner Lord William confessed he thought a
_big_ stable a mistake. In spite of having gained this experience,
which led people to imagine he intended to reduce his stable, he
added to it, and for the first time sent some of his horses to Madras
to see what he could do there. At the Autumn Meerut Meeting he had
no luck this year with his horses, chiefly owing, no doubt, to their
usual jockey, Dunn, who knew their temperaments and little ways,
being away at the time ill, which was hard on the horses and hard on
their owner.
[Illustration: BEAUTIFUL BLITZ]
[Illustration: PILOTEER WINNING A TROTTING PRIZE]
The big Calcutta meeting on December 26th, 1889, saw the beginning
of the Presto row, which most racing people will remember. The horse
was entered for the Walter Locke Cup, and was expected to win, Dunn
riding, but was not even placed! It was suggested that it was the
result of getting off badly at the start, the horse swerving
round, losing several lengths. This caused some comment and much
disappointment, which reached boiling point two days later, when on
the 28th Presto again ran with Dunn up for the Kooch Behar Cup, 1¼
miles, winning easily, there never being a moment’s doubt from start
to finish that the race was his, even leaving Moorhouse, a very fast
horse, and several others hopelessly behind.
The public were now thoroughly upset, though on the face of the thing
it seemed natural that if the horse lost so many lengths at the
start in the race on the 26th, it would quite account for relative
positions at the end of the two races. There were, however, those
who considered Dunn’s riding was at fault, therefore the Stewards of
the Turf Club held an enquiry into it. Mr. Gasper, the clever lawyer
who has already been introduced, and from whom Lord William bought
Mercury, appeared to uphold the complaint. Whether Dunn was in any
way to blame for this different running of Presto I am not able to
state, but be that as it may, he stood very little chance in any case
with Mr. Gasper up against him, he being the most brilliant criminal
lawyer Calcutta had ever seen, and he at any rate believed Dunn to
blame, and waxed eloquent in consequence.
After a long and tedious investigation, over which there had been
some feeling, the Stewards fully exonerated Lord William, and while
not stating Dunn pulled, they were of the opinion he deserved censure
for bad riding, which had certainly justified the enquiry.
The whole affair was much to be regretted, and makes one wonder how
a man can be found who cares to have his honour resting in the hands
of paid servants like jockeys, trainers, and so forth, when any day
what a man prizes more than anything else in the world may be thrown
to the winds, through absolutely no fault of his own.
The course at Calcutta had been expanded, and the buildings improved,
greatly owing to the efforts of the sporting and popular merchant Mr.
Charles Moore, who took great interest in racing and the bettering of
all its conditions.
Following the Calcutta meeting came Tollygunge, where the stable
finished the season well, Blitz winning the Belvedere Stakes in
January 18th, 1893, Gold Leaf the Sensation Handicap, Traveller the
Long Distance Handicap, FitzWilliam the Spring Purse, and Nellie the
Pony Chase.
I had almost forgotten the cold weather paper-chases, having so much
of interest to recount in the way of racing. Lord Bill was very fond
of riding after paper, and the Calcutta Paperchases were no child’s
play. He ran second in the Cup in the cold weather of 1880-81, riding
Oliver Twist, third on Mariner 1881-82, first on Premier in 1882-83,
first on Diamond in 1887-88.
Captain Muir, commanding the Body Guard, who has already been
mentioned as having been left in charge of Lord Bill’s affairs when
he started for Zululand, won the Calcutta Paperchase Cup three years
running on his Warwickshire Lad, I believe, in the cold weather of
1877-78--1878-79--1879-80. The only person that I know of with such a
record.
I ought perhaps to explain that the Viceroy and each Governor has a
Body Guard for escorts, guards, sentries, etc., much the same as the
Household Cavalry in England with the King.
The Viceroy’s Body Guard was very impressive with its scarlet uniform
and lances.
What a gift it is to be able to speak well. Lord Bill was a happy
speaker, always to the point, and always amusing, and how people
do like to be amused. We have only to look at the money made by
humorists like Mr. George Robey, who earns £200 a week to make people
laugh, and is worth it, or he would not receive that handsome money;
Little Tich with his £250 a week, or Cissy Loftus, the mimic, who
received £250 a week for her services.
Compare with this the pay of some of our Indian officials, toiling in
the heat, often separated from all that makes life lovely. Truly it
is better to be funny than great, but then after all it is great to
be funny. Lord William thought every boy ought to be taught to speak,
and considered debating societies excellent practice for them, which
no doubt they are, teaching them not only to think, but to express
themselves intelligibly and to frame their sentences.
As Lord William expressed it, “Everybody has not got the gift of the
gab,” but most can acquire it, and no doubt this is true to a great
extent; some great speakers have been miserable failures to begin
with, though overflowing with things they wanted to say. Disraeli was
an example. His first speech in the House of Commons was an utter
failure, possibly partially from nervousness, also want of practice;
eventually his phraseology was both forceful and picturesque.
While Huxley, giving his first lecture at the Royal Institute, I
am told, was quite painful, so much so, that he received a letter
imploring him never to speak again, which was not encouraging.
Some can speak and cannot write, others can write and cannot speak.
This has been brought home to me lately while turning over old
letters and documents searching for those relating to the subject of
these memories.
I have come across forgotten letters that I have received at
different times from India, Afghanistan, Zululand, Burmah, South
Africa, East Africa, Russia, France, Egypt, in fact from most of the
places where there have been stirring times during my life.
Many of the letters written by the chief actors, others from those
who at the time of writing were taught “not to think, but to do as
they were told--thinking was for their superiors!”
It has interested me placing them side by side and studying the
different views held by the writers of the various situations they
were dealing with, not all the facts being by any means in accordance
with the accounts that have been handed down for our digestion.
Some of these writers could have thrown very vivid light on various
situations, but they have carried their griefs and in some cases
their injustices with them to their lonely, uncared-for graves.
Amongst these letters are a few written in bald John Bull,
plum-puddingy jerky sentences, like roughly sketched in pictures to
be filled in later; possibly they found speaking easier than writing.
Then there are the letters dealing with the same situations, so
eloquent, so full of human sympathy and yet so dramatic that it is
almost like living through the experiences oneself.
I suppose mistakes are not sins when people have honestly done their
best, but then the best is sometimes painfully foolish, and it is
poor consolation to those who have suffered in consequence of it,
that it was all a mistake!
We must now hark back to Lord William’s racing. He was hoping to win
the Civil Service Cup at Lucknow, the best pony race in India. He and
all the staff who could possibly get away from Calcutta went to see
it run. Two of Lord William’s ponies were entered for it, namely, the
famous Arab Blitz and an English pony named Bustle. The former was a
strong favourite, and Lord William thought it a certain win.
Before leaving Calcutta he promised Lady Lansdowne to telegraph to
her the result of the race. At dinner that night Sir John Hext asked
Lady Lansdowne if she had heard from Lord William as was arranged.
She replied “No; I am rather disappointed.” Dinner had not proceeded
very far when the expected telegram arrived. After reading it Her
Excellency burst out laughing, and handed it to Sir John, who read,
“Bustle _in front_ this time.” So the English pony had won the Cup.
Myall King won the Horse Handicap, there being nothing there that
could touch him.
Lord William’s health was again troubling him. He had in fact had
enough of India and its climate, though he would not allow it. He was
advised to go home on leave for a while, which he agreed to do, but
did not take long enough to benefit him materially, that curse of
India, dysentery, claiming him at intervals.
Before leaving for home he sold Euclid (whom he considered no longer
of much racing value) to Count Poloki for £700.
While Lord Bill was at home Weekes, who it will be remembered
bought Myall King for him, bought another horse in July for the
Durbangah-Beresford stable for 800 guineas. Various items of news
reached Lord Bill while at home which were worrying. One being that
anthrax had broken out at Dehra in the stables. Those who have had
any experience of that disease will be able to picture his feelings
on receiving this news, it being quite on the cards that every horse
might be dead in a few hours. Poor Shamshad was the first of the
victims. Fortunately stringent measures were taken by Willson, Lord
William’s trainer, before many had succumbed.
Then followed the unpleasant news that Dunn was in trouble again,
for the confederacy stable was active, though Lord Bill was away.
This time it appears Dunn’s riding was so peculiar from the moment he
left the paddock that the Stewards felt it imperative to institute
another enquiry, regarding the running of Cumberland, and they came
to the conclusion he had not ridden the horse to win, in consequence
of which he was suspended for twelve months, rather taking his breath
away, riding being his means of livelihood. This punishment was later
added to by disqualification for life, for which no one could feel
sorry, if he was unable to serve faithfully such a good master he did
not deserve any mercy.
I believe in 1892, thinking Dunn had suffered enough, his sentence
was remitted.
Lord William now engaged the services of that first-rate jockey
Vinall, and he was out in India by October, when his lordship
returned, looking much better for his visit to the German Spas, where
he had amongst other things been drinking the waters.
In December racing people’s breath was taken away by finding
Lord Bill had bought and landed in the country a couple of South
American horses, which under the then existing rules were rated
as country-breds and carried weight with that class. Vixen and
Westminster were the names of these surprise packets.
At the Calcutta second meeting Escapade, Labby and Goldleaf won
races. Pamela also won her first prize, the Walter Locke Cup, while
good old Myall King romped away with the Viceroy’s Cup for the third
time, value 5850 rupees.
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.
So there was no halting in any of the programmes, everything went
on just as usual. At the Second Extra Calcutta Meeting in ’91 Lord
William won two races with Lord Clyde and one with Wild Oats, as wild
as his name. At the Lucknow Meeting Myall King won the Stewards’
Purse, value 1500 rupees. Here again there was an unpleasantness, one
of those heated arguments that spoil the pleasure of a meeting for
everybody. This time the row began when Mr. Apcar’s Sylvia won the
Civil Service Cup, and Lord William, on behalf of the owner of the
second pony named Frisky, made objection to her not having paid the
full penalties. After certain explanations Lord William withdrew his
objection, but Frisky’s owner carried on the war, and the unfortunate
Stewards of the Turf Club (Calcutta) had to sift the matter and
adjudicate. Counsel exhausted themselves with their eloquence over
the case, but again it came to naught.
[Illustration:
_Photo. Vandyk_
H. H. THE MAHARAJAH OF PATIALA]
It was, I believe, in December, 1891, Myall King was beaten for the
Viceroy’s Cup by that speedy horse Moorhouse, but Sunshine won the
Karnaul Stakes, Edith the Zeerut Stakes, Teviot the Eastern Stakes,
plucky little Blitz the Eclipse Stakes, with ears down, thinking
hard, and doing his best; Ivo the Christmas Cup, so amongst these
many wins it is hoped consolation was found to make up for poor Myall
King’s defeat.
On the fourth day of the big Calcutta Meeting there was some grand
racing. The Patiala-Beresford’s country-bred pony Negus, supposed
to be the best country-bred ever seen in India, won the Eastern
Handicap, and Ringmaster made a splendid finish for the Durbangah
Cup, Vinall only just managing to squeeze him in front of Savant
by a short head. The stable at this time had a small English boy
named Peake doing the lightweight riding for them, he was rather a
success. At the Third Extra Calcutta Meeting the black cap and light
blue jacket won four races on Christmas Day as follows: Escapade the
Kerry Stakes, Tabby the Welter, Negus the Bengal, Ivo the Fitzmaurice
Stakes.
From now on, until Lord William left India early in 1894, there is
little if any particular interest to relate except his successful
racing, to which he devoted all his spare time. Chasing appealed
strongly to him, the excitement of it being after his own heart, and
nothing pleased him better than to be up himself. Being a good judge
of a horse, he knew what to look for when keeping his eyes and ears
open for possible winners. On paper we all know the thing to look
for, good shoulders to help them when landing, plenty of power behind
to propel with, and so on, but in practice this does not always do
the trick, for most of us at times have seen little weedy, tucked-up
animals win big prizes. Never mind, we are told the exception proves
the rule, and, as I have already remarked, Logic is, no doubt, a
good training for us all as leading to sound and considered judgment,
but horses are unacquainted with it. It is very seldom, however, that
a horse will not do his best, strain every nerve, in response to the
demands of his master. Lord William was a bold, plucky rider, with
good hands, but in racing was, I think, inclined to be too impetuous.
I have seen him spoil his own chances by being too eager. My readers
will say he managed to win a good many when riding himself. Quite
true, so he did, and he could do almost anything with horses, but his
tendency in racing was to go “all out.”
A good deal of business was done in India over the Calcutta
Sweepstakes on the English Derby. Lord William was always keenly
interested, and did a good deal of buying and selling over the
horses’ chances, which, of course, is just as legitimate as certain
leading lights in the English racing world making a £10,000 yearling
book on the Derby. As a purchaser of tickets Lord Bill was in a good
position to judge a horse’s chances, being well posted from home, his
brother Lord Marcus keeping him well informed of all that was going
on, the breakdowns, scratchings, and other contingencies connected
with good and bad luck of the racehorse in training. The Calcutta
Sweep on our Derby is the most valuable in the world. Lord William
did a large business with the Indian lotteries, and made a heap
of money over them. The sweepstakes being drawn some weeks before
the race is run, gives everybody who likes to avail themselves of
it opportunities of making money by buying and selling the chances
subsequent to the draw, taking the form of jobbery on the Stock
Exchange. Many of my readers know all about this, but there are some
who may be glad of the explanation. It is not now possible to do
what has been done in the past with Calcutta Sweeps, what is called
“future event wagering,” is more or less a thing of the past. It must
be remembered there was not much for Lord William to learn about
racing, and he knew how to hedge so as to make his book fairly safe
before the flag fell. There is an old adage, “No bet is a good one
until it is well hedged.” I think latterly Lord William hedged a
good deal. I have heard it remarked that he lost his nerve a little,
and after making a big book would hedge it off again, thereby not
making the sums he might have done over his own horses, but I think
we may take it his lordship knew what he was doing, and did it fairly
satisfactorily.
In February, 1892, that wonderful pony Lord Clyde, whose legs must
have been made of cement, won the Merchants’ Purse at Lucknow with
ease, Arabi Pasha the Derby, and Negus the Civil Service Cup.
Racing people in India were growing restive at the formidable
Patiala-Beresford stable winning so many of the best races, but if
the stewards and officials who arrange the different meetings invite
outsiders to compete they must not cry if they come and at times
carry off their prizes. Both the Maharajah and Lord Bill were so
extraordinarily generous they cared much less for the cash and prizes
than for the glory of winning, and would willingly have given them
the value of the stakes if that was all that mattered.
The Patiala Prince started some races of his own in April, 1892, on
his own estate. They became very popular, and his hospitality was
remarkable, everything well done, and Lord William able to help him
in laying out and arranging the course, which was 1½ miles long, and
well kept. It boasted of two grand stands, stables, dressing-rooms,
weighing-room, and all the heart of man or beast could desire.
On the opening day both the Maharajah and his A.D.C., Sirdar Preetum
Singh, rode in races, each being a winner. The bookmakers did good
business too.
At Agra the stable did fairly well, winning the Bhurtpore Plate
with Doris, Bar Stakes with Teviot, three races with Edith, and the
Auction Stakes with Joker. Small wonder folk felt nervous when the
Patiala-Beresford horses appeared on the scenes.
At Simla, on the new altered course, the races could hardly be called
gymkhanas any longer, many good horses coming from far and near to
compete. Lord William won the Jakko Stakes with his Coffee, but I do
not remember any other wins of this time at Annandale, though there
may have been several.
[Illustration: NEW PAVILION AT ANNANDALE]
The majority of his horses, as well as the viceregal horses, were
summering at Dehra as usual. This year a few were sent to Nami Tal,
another hill station, by way of a change and to represent the stable
in some races and gymkhanas. Two horses that had lately been imported
to India were causing anxiety, they were not doing very well at
Dehra, but as they had come out in that trying month of August it
was hardly surprising. It was my fate once to be in the Red Sea in
August, and I almost made up my mind to die, but thought better of
it, while a real live judge on board made no bones about it, and did
lie down and die, though everybody did their best for the poor old
man with ice, fans, and punkahs.
At Meerut Doris won the Haupur Stakes, Cuba the Handicap Hurdles,
Tabby the Aligarh Stakes, Edith the Railway Stakes.
At Umballa a match was arranged between Lord William and Mr. Woolmer,
to come off at the Autumn Lucknow Meeting, the friends of each of
these sportsmen betting on the event. It was looked forward to with
considerable interest.
Saltford won the Grand Annual at Umballa, and the stable won a couple
of other races.
At Pindi, Marvel won the Pindi Plate; at Lucknow, Doris the Dilkoosha
Stakes easily, Escapade the Trials, Teviot the Club Stakes.
Some horses were sent off at the same time to Hyderabad with Ryder in
charge and did well, bringing in something satisfactory in stakes.
Myall King, if I remember rightly, won a big race. The race meetings
followed on each other’s heels fairly quickly, and we must now follow
the stable to the Calcutta First Extra Meeting, where Pavo won the
Pony Plate easily. Arab Brat, a wonderful pony, a mass of muscle,
well made and lovely to behold, won the small Pony Trials, Ivo the
Frost Stakes, and in the December Stakes, Lord William led in Lady
Grace the winner.
At the big meeting, December 24th, Sunshine won the Kurnaul Stakes,
Tostig, a most untrustworthy but very fast horse, the Trials, Ivo the
Walter Locke Cup.
For the Viceroy’s Cup this year the stable had nothing they felt that
could compete with the Maharajah of Kooch Behar’s grand black gelding
Highborn. Their Caterina ran, but was beaten by him.
The smart country-bred Sunshine won the Gunny Meah Cup, the fast
Eider the Sandown Park Stake in a canter, and Caterina retrieved her
character by winning the rich Kooch Behar prize, though she had a
good field against her; Little Brat also won the Eclipse Stakes.
It seemed quite correct that after being beaten by the Rajah of Kooch
Behar’s horse for the Viceroy’s Cup that Caterina should retaliate by
winning His Highness’s Cup.
A glance at the winning of the Confederacy at this meeting is
instructive, 21,000 rupees being won between the Patiala and
Beresford horses.
At Tollygunge, the obliging and always ready Edith won the Handicap
Chase. So ended the 1892 racing.
On January 14th, 1903, at Calcutta, that compact and beautifully
made pony Parvo won the Belvedere Pony Stakes, also another a little
later. Vixen, the South American, roped in the rupees in the Selling
Welter, and again next day the Alipore Stakes.
The first day at Lucknow opened with the two matches between Lord
William and Captain Woolmer. In the first Lord William was to
ride his English horse Tostig against Capt. Woolmer’s Australian
Flashlight, catch weight over 12 stone, distance three furlongs.
Flashlight was a curious, rather ungainly looking horse, with
an uncomfortable saddle back, being round or roach-backed.
Nevertheless, the horse won. In the other match Lord William rode an
English horse again, named Simon de Montfort. I am sure his opponent
must have felt impressed by this high-sounding title. Capt. Woolmer
was on an English mare rejoicing in the common or garden name of
Stourbay. Here again Capt. Woolmer won, and Lord Bill had to pay up,
the terms having been 5000 rupees a side. The only comfort out of the
day’s racing was that Exile won the Martiniere Stakes.
The second day’s racing was better for them. Doris won the Pony
Race, Mocassin the Pony Chase, Kirkstall the Goomtee Stakes, Prince
Imperial the All-horse Handicap, as well as two other races I am
not sure about; so the owners began to preen themselves again. The
Civil Service Cup was a disappointment. They had hoped to win it with
Negus, but were beaten by a pony named Pekin.
At Meerut Plebein won the Grand National Chase, Prince Imperial the
Turf Club Cup, and in March, 1893, at the Patiala meeting little
Blitz added the Pony Race to his laurels; Sirus the Asiatic Stakes,
and Salford with nothing near him the Grand Annual.
Lord William had added Flashlight to his string. It had worried him
very much there being anything that could beat his Tostig, which was
considered a really fast horse; he determined if possible to buy
Flashlight, and, as we see, he did accomplish the deal.
Riding in the Calcutta Military Paperchase for the cup in 1893, Lord
Bill had a nasty fall with Ratafia. No bones were broken this time
fortunately, but he had to keep to his bed for several weeks. Though
now forty-six years of age, he still rode as hard as ever, still did
gymkhana tricks, and skylarked with the best of them, though he had
already eight times broken his collarbone, had various concussions
of the brain, and hundreds of minor griefs in the way of bumps and
bruises, yet his nerve had never failed him.
At the 1893 Pindi meeting, Patiala-Beresford horses won nothing,
which was rather amusing, as it was from there the chief cry came
about its being no use racing against millionaire princes, of course
they could afford to buy up all the best horses, etc., giving no one
else a chance. On this occasion they must have felt small, to say the
least of it.
At the end of the season the horses went to their summer quarters,
and the usual anxiety and curiosity began of wondering what the
Confederacy would produce for the next year’s racing. Wild rumours
floated about of the horses Lord William was supposed to have bought;
the racing and betting people studied all the English, Australian,
and American papers in hopes of finding out, or at any rate gleaning
some information. The would-be wise gossipers added various horses to
his stable with wonderful records, all of which were inventions or
at any rate proved incorrect. What was true, and eventually became
known, was that he had bought Sprig o’ Myrtle, a well-known and good
horse, with a view to taking Highborn down a peg or two.
In June I think, at any rate in the hot weather, Lord William sent
Westminster, Vixen, Lady Grace, Escapade, Goldleaf and Chester to
Bangalore to train. This was chiefly owing to the Calcutta Turf Club
having decided not to allow South American horses any longer to be
entered in the country-bred class as regards weight. The Western
Indian Turf Club not having arrived at any such conclusion, both
Vixen and Westminster had a good chance there, making it worth while
sending them. Lord William’s prediction was verified, they both won
races and many rupees there.
Simla was feeling rather miserable trying to face the inevitable,
for Lord William’s years of office were drawing to a close. People
quarrelled with one another to entertain him and do him honour, and
in spite of Lord Bill’s cheery efforts there was a something in the
air that spelt depression, for who would, or ever could, take his
place? And what were Lord Bill’s feelings in leaving all his kind
friends and the haunts of so many happy and successful years? I know
he felt lumps in his throat at times, and it seemed to bring home
to him that his youth was gone; that suddenly somehow he had become
middle-aged, and he had not hitherto realised it. He had been obliged
to give up polo, and his health at times was far from satisfactory,
although his spirit had never failed, was still unquenched, and after
all he had earned a little home life, but against that no one likes
leaving a place where they have been a little god.
Amongst the most touching of his farewells was from the children
at Simla; he gave them a last farewell party at Inverarm, and they
presented him with a little remembrance, which was amongst the most
valued of his many parting gifts.
While at Simla, Lady Lansdowne, who was very much liked, told some
lady she should like to visit her friends and have tea with them as
she did amongst her friends at home, she did not care for the formal
“stand-off” viceregal attitude. The lady this remark was addressed
to promptly said, “Oh, will you come to tea with me?” receiving an
answer in the affirmative. When the Military Secretary heard of this
he at once begged Her Excellency to do nothing of the kind; it would
be establishing a precedent in the first place which might not be
desirable, added to which it would most certainly lead to jealousy
and trouble, so the kind and sociable-hearted Vice-reine had to give
up the idea.
[Illustration:
_Photo. Bourne & Shepherd_
MYALL KING’S GRAVE]
Lord William now entered upon his last year’s racing. He wanted to
have an Irish finish, a good gallop for the last, and he was not
disappointed, for he certainly won a prodigious number of races.
People opened their eyes and blinked when Willson, Lord William’s
trainer, reached Calcutta with a truly formidable string, consisting
of good old Myall King, Flashlight, Tostig, Sprig o’ Myrtle,
Kirstall, Ivo, Westminster, Lady Grace, Caterina, Eider, Tabby,
Killatoe, Firstshot, Nectar, Mite, Negus, Labby, Parvo, Lady Ethleen,
Seabreeze, Puffball, Annie Rooney, Release, FitzGeorge, Coochick
and ever so many more, surely he must have reached the height of
his ambitions in India; but alas! his pleasure in his last year’s
racing was damped by an accident to his favourite Myall King while
he was being schooled over hurdles. It was noticed he was fencing
rather carelessly, whether he felt he had done his bit, and ceased
to be interested in the game, or whether he did not feel well, it is
hard to tell, but it ended in his coming to grief and breaking his
leg. Lord William was much upset, for Myall King had played the game
so handsomely for him. He ordered a monument to be erected to the
horse’s memory at Barrackpore, of which I give a photograph. Lord
William is standing on the right side with his little fox terrier,
Willson the trainer stands on the left, and Vinall near him. The
picture of Lord William is not the least like him. I think it has
suffered in the touching up process through which I understand they
have to go, but the photo is of interest.
Many people who had admired the poor old horse felt sad when they
heard he had met his death on the racecourse where he had won so many
races. The poor beast had of course to be put out of his pain.
The _Indian Planters Gazette_ felt it so strongly it broke into song,
as follows:--
Myall King has been shot, ran the pitiful story,
We heard in Calcutta on last Tuesday eve;
But that such a sad ending had come to his glory,
We listeners indeed found it hard to believe.
Fling open the gates of the equine Valhalla
While the notes of his requiem mournfully ring,
Staunchest of thoroughbreds, best of Australians,
Champion of India, brave Myall King.
Yet, if there’s a future for men and for horses,
Perhaps our old hero we once more may see,
Grazing free on sweet clover in meadows celestial,
Happy as sportsmen all wish him to be.
The following shows at a glance the horse’s performances:--
_Myall King, by King Cob--Queen of the Forest_
Weights. Distance. Time.
1887, Dec. Calcutta Viceroy’s Cup 8.8 1¾ m. 3 m. 9½ s.
Durbangah Cup 9.0 1 m. 6 f. 3 m. 20½ s.
132 yds.
1888, Feb. Lucknow Stewards’ Purse 10.3 2 m. 3 m. 41 s.
1888, Dec. Calcutta Viceroy’s Cup 9.0 1¾ m. 3 m. 7½ s.
1890, Dec. Calcutta Viceroy’s Cup 9.0 1¾ m. 3 m. 8 s.
1891, Feb. Lucknow Stewards’ Purse 9.7 1½ m. 2 m. 41 s.
1891, Dec. Calcutta Viceroy’s Cup -- -- Ran third
1892, -- Hyderabad Gold Cup 9.7 2 m. --
Misfortunes seldom come singly. Another catastrophe occurred almost
directly after Myall King’s, that useful pony Edith fell at the same
place, putting her shoulder out, so of course she could race no more.
On December 2nd, at the first Extra Calcutta Meeting, Release ran
a dead-heat with Mr. Apcar’s Sapper in the Pony Plate, which was
unsatisfactory to both. At the second Extra Meeting Ivo won the
Fort Stakes, First Shot, looking splendid, won the Pony Trials, and
Westminster the Maiden Horse Stakes. Prince Imperial the Hastings
Plate Hurdles.
Then came the eventful Cup Day. Excitement had been great for some
time and now grew intense. Many people thought the Maharajah of Kooch
Behar’s Highborn was certain to win, though in the opinion of some
he was a trifle overtrained. Lord William also had plenty of backers.
As the horses cantered past to the post, Highborn certainly did look
tired and a little stale, while Tostig, Lord William’s horse, or I
should say the Confederacy horse, was looking very fit. They both got
away well, and Vinall kept his charge going from the first, hoping
to reduce his field a bit; he kept the lead until the last turn for
home, when it was observed Highborn was creeping up, though pale blue
and black cap was still leading. Presently Trahan, who was riding
Highborn, threw up his arm and began riding for a finish. This made
the crowd shout out, “Highborn’s beaten, Highborn’s done,” and the
field thought all was over but the shouting, and Lord William would
be victorious. Both jockeys now meant business; both were riding
every inch resolutely, but in spite of Vinall’s best endeavours, the
black landed his head well in front as he passed the winning post,
conqueror by a length.
The sporting Maharajah of Kooch Behar, who was very popular, received
endless congratulations, and none more hearty than from his old
friend Lord William. Most people had hoped that being his lordship’s
last year’s racing he would again win the cup and retire victorious,
but the stable had to console itself with Negus winning the Eastern
Pony Stakes, and Eider the Walter Locke Cup.
The big plum of the third day Parvo secured, on the fourth day
Lady Ethleen ran a dead-heat for the Lilliputians, and Negus the
Pony Handicap, and so ended Lord William’s last season’s racing in
Calcutta.
On Saturday evening, the 30th of December, 1893, a farewell dinner
was given to Lord William by a large number of his friends in the
Calcutta Town Hall, prior to his departure from India, where he had
spent, as he himself said, “The best years of his life.”
The hall was decorated with flags and draperies in Lord William’s
racing colours, the lances of the Viceroy’s Body Guard arranged round
the massive pillars of the hall, the general effect being distinctly
pretty.
Mr. Charles H. Moore, one of Lord William’s oldest friends, occupied
the chair, and it is thanks to his courtesy I am able to produce the
facsimile of the signatures of the guests at that memorable feast,
also his speech in proposing the guest of the evening my readers will
see is both eloquent and earnest, and my friends tell me the delivery
was most impressive, calling forth an enthusiasm rarely witnessed on
such occasions.
Lord William was, I know, greatly touched, and his reply was spoken
with much feeling and heartfelt appreciation for his kindly reception.
Lord William sat on Mr. Moore’s right, the two next chairs being
occupied by Mr. Justice Macpherson and the Hon. General Brackenbury,
while on the chairman’s left were Admiral Kennedy and Lord Brassey.
The band of the Rifle Brigade played during the evening.
The following is a list of those present:--
Abbott, Mr. H. E.; Agnew, Capt. Q.; Agnew, Mr. H. de C.; Alexander,
Mr. R.; Allason, Major; Allan, Mr. J. J.; Anderson, Mr. A. S.;
Anderson, Mr. G. G.; Apcar, Mr. J. G.; Apostolides, Mr. E. C.;
Althorp, Capt. K.; Arbuthnot, Mr. J.; Ardagh, Col. J. C., C.I.E.;
Arthur, Mr. A.; Barclay, Mr. P. D.; Barlow, Mr. R.; Barnes, Mr.
F. C.; Bates, Mr. R. G.; Beaver, Col. P. K. L.; Beresford, Mr.
W. M.; Beverley, the Hon. Mr. Justice, C.S.; Bignell, Mr. R.;
Boteler, Mr. R.; Bourdillon, the Hon. J. A., C.S.; Brackenbury,
the Hon. Lieut.-General H., C.B.; Bradshaw, Surgeon-Major-General;
Brassey, the Right Hon. the Lord; Brasier-Creagh, Capt., A.D.C.;
Brock, Mr. C.; Brooke, Mr. W. R., C.I.E.; Buck, Sir E., C.I.E.;
Buckland, Mr. C. E., C.S.; Butler, Mr. A. L.; Bythell, Capt.;
Campbell, Capt. I. M., D.S.O.; Campbell, Mr. Alec; Campbell, Mr.
H. P.; Chatterton, Col. F. W.; Chisholme, Major J. J. Scott;
Christopher, Major; Collen, Major-General Sir E. H. H., K.C.,
I.E.; Cotton, the Hon. H. J. S., C.S.I.; Creagh, Mr. B. P.; Croft,
the Hon. Sir A., K.C.I.E; Cubitt, Mr. J. E.; Cumberledge, Mr. F,
H.; Cuningham, Mr. W. J., C.S.I.; Cunningham, Surgeon-Lieut.-Col.
D. D.; Currie, Capt. J.; Curzon, the Hon. Major M.; Dangerfield,
Mr. E.; Daniel, Mr. Linsay; Dickson, Mr. Geo.; Dickson, Mr. J.
G.; Dods, Mr. W.; Doran, Major B. J. C.; Eddis, Mr. W. K.; Ellis,
Col. S. R.; Enter, Mr. K.; Evans, the Hon. Sir Griffith, K.C.I.E.;
Ezra, Mr. J. E. D.; Fenn, Surgeon-Col. E. H., C.I.E.; Galbraith,
Major-General W., C.B.; Gambrie, Col. G. R.; Gamble, Mr. R. A.;
Garraway, Capt. C. W.; Garth, Mr. G. L.; Garth, Mr. W.; Gladstone,
Mr. A. S.; Gladstone, Mr. J. S.; Gough, Capt. C. H. H.; Gough, Mr.
G.; Gregory, Mr. E. H.; Gregson, Mr. C. B.; Grimston, Capt. R. E.,
A.D.C.; Hadden, Mr. F. G.; Hamilton, Mr. F. S., C.S.; Hamilton,
Mr. L. B.; Harbord, Capt. the Hon. C.; Hart, Mr. G. H. R.; Harvey,
Surgeon-Col. R.; Henderson, Mr. G. S.; Hensman, Mr. H.; Herbert,
Capt. L.; Hewett, Mr. J. P., C.S., C.I.E.; Hext, Capt. J., R.N.,
C.I.E.; Hills, Mr. A.; Hills, Mr. C. R.; Hodgson, Mr. G. C.;
Holmes, Mr. W., C.S.; Hope, Mr. G. W.; Hunt, Col. J. L.; Irving,
Mr. W. O. Bell; James, Mr. S. Harvey, C.S.; Jardine, Sir William,
Bart.; Jarrett, Col. H. S.; Jenkins, Capt. A. E.; Johnstone, Mr. C.
Lawrie; Jourdain, Mr. C. B.; Kennedy, H. E., Rear-Admiral George;
King, Brigade-Surgeon-Lieut.-Col. G., C.I.E.; King, Mr. D. W.;
Kirk, Mr. H. A.; Kooch Behar, H. H. the Maharajah of, G.C.I.E.;
Lambert, the Hon. Sir John, K.C.I.E.; Lance, Brigadier-General F.,
C.B.; Latimer, Mr. F. W.; Lethbridge, Brigade-Surgeon-Lieut.-Col.;
Lister, Capt. G. C., A.D.C.; Ludlow, Col.; Lumsden, Mr. D. M.;
Luson, Mr. H.; Lyall, Mr. A. A.; Lyall the Hon. Mr. D. R., C.S.I.,
C.S.; Lyall, Mr. R. A.; Mackensie, Mr. D. F.; Mackellor, Mr. G.
B.; Macleod, Mr. J. J.; Macnair, Mr. G. B.; Macpherson, the Hon.
Justice W., C.S.; Maitland, Col.; McInnes, Mr. H. H.; McLeod,
Mr. C. C.; Mehta, Mr. R. D.; Miley, Col. J. A.; Mills, Mr. G.;
Milton, Lord, A.D.C.; Moore, Mr. C. H.; Muir, Mr. A. K.; Muir, Sir
John, Bart.; Myers, Mr. Dudley B.; Norman, Mr. A. F.; Norris, the
Hon. Justice, Q.C.; Overend, Mr. T. B. G.; Paget, Mr. H. E. C.;
Paris, Mr. G. B.; Pattison, Mr. F. E.; Paul, Col. St.; Peacock,
Mr. F. B.; Perinan, Mr. F. W.; Peterson, Mr. C. D.; Patrie, Mr.
J. M.; Playfair, the Hon. Mr. P.; Pollen, Capt. S. H., A.D.C.;
Prickett, Mr. L. G.; Prinsep, the Hon. Mr. Justice H. T., C.S.;
Pritchard, the Hon. Sir C., K.C.I.E., C.S.I.; Ralli, Mr. John A.;
Ralli, Mr. T. D.; Rawlinson, Mr. A. T.; Raye, Brigade-Surgeon
D.; Rodocanachi, Mr. J.; Ross, Mr. R. M.; Rustornjee, Mr. H. M.;
Sanders, Surgeon-Major R. C.; Saunders, Mr. J. O’B.; Schiller,
Mr. F. C.; Shakespeare, Mr. F.; Simson, Mr. A.; Simson, Mr. A.
F.; Stedman, General E., C.B.; Steel, Mr. Robert; Stewart, Mr. F.
G.; Stewart, Mr. C. D.; Stewart, Mr. J. L.; Stewart, Mr. J. R.;
Stuart, Mr. Harry; Targett, Mr. W. H.; Temple, Mr. G.; Thomas, Mr.
J. P.; Thomas, Mr. L. R.; Thomas, Mr. R. E. S.; Thomas, Mr. W. L.;
Thuillier, Col. H. R.; Toomay, Mr. J. A.; Trail, Mr. T.; Tremearne,
Mr. Shirley; Turnbull, Mr. R., C.I.E.; Turner, Capt. J. G.; Upton,
Mr. R. L.; Vincent, Mr. Claude; Walker, Major-General A.; Waller,
Mr. R. R.; Ward, Mr. G.; West, Mr. J. D.; Wilkins, Mr. C. A., C.S.;
Williams, Capt. G. A.
In rising to propose the health of the Viceroy and Lady Lansdowne,
Mr. Moore was very warmly received. He said:--
“Gentlemen,--We have a rigid rule here to-night to confine our
speeches to two, but I must break it so far as to ask you to drink
to the health of the Viceroy and Lady Lansdowne--(cheers). I am
sure I am interpreting your sentiments right in thinking you will
do it with enthusiasm. They have won the hearts of us all, and
their approaching departure carries with it a feeling of actual
personal loss arising from the affection and esteem they have so
universally inspired; he, because he is straight, loyal and true,
and she, because in every respect she is perfectly charming.”
“The toast was drunk with the greatest enthusiasm, the whole
company standing,” to quote the words from the account given to me.
After a brief interval the Chairman again rose, his rising being the
signal for prolonged cheering. He said:--
“Gentlemen,--I first knew Bill Beresford over thirty years ago in
the playing fields of Eton, where they say battles are won, to the
inspiration of which thought we may both trust to fight against
the extreme nervousness our respective positions entail on us
to-night. His nervousness needs no apology, as he has to respond
to a whole evening in his honour, which nobody could face with
perfect equanimity. Mine perhaps requires this explanation, that in
assuming my duty, which is to now call a toast to his name, and bid
him farewell on behalf of this large company, I find it difficult
to do so in appropriate terms, lest I be charged with personal bias
from my well-known feelings for him of affectionate friendship and
regard--(cheers). I have been selected for this task which, for
this reason, I would rather have deputed to some other, because
amongst Calcutta residents proper (and this dinner is meant to
bear a Calcutta complexion) I have known him longer than most, if
not than all of you. This qualification I claim with pride. I beg
you however to believe I mean to be impartial in the few remarks
regarding his career which I now make--(cheers).
“I must not date back too far, so I leave Eton days and get
straight to India, where his main career has been spent, and with
distinction--(cheers)--for it is with that portion of his life that
this company is chiefly concerned. What fortunate accident brought
him here I do not quite know, unless it was the natural termination
of the short life and a merry one dear to youthful soldiers in the
old country, but having arrived here eighteen years ago, here he
has remained, and I would briefly recall to you the various phases
in which he has appeared before us. I think I can best cut him
into four--(laughter and cheers)--the soldier, the official, the
sportsman, and the social companion--(cheers).
“As soldier I cannot speak of him from personal knowledge.
I have the satisfaction of being a member of society who,
when war is abroad, is entitled to seclude himself from its
ranks--(laughter)--but it is a consolation to feel that a good
plucked one, like our friend Bill, is to the fore to protect
me--(hear, hear, and laughter). I recollect I first saw him as
a soldier, gay and dapper, in 9th Lancers uniform, brown hair,
sufficient of it, and a straight nose--(laughter)--escorting the
Prince of Wales from Prinseps Ghât to Government House, but this is
only the show side of a soldier’s life. For its realistic side one
must go further afield, and there are those amongst us from whom no
doubt I could glean facts to set forth his worth, but there is no
need. He bears on his breast the sign manual of merit in the proud
insignia of the Victoria Cross, and I am justified in accepting
that as sufficient evidence--(loud and prolonged cheers).
“As official, we have all known him best as Military Secretary to
the Viceroy of India. He has (after six years’ service as A.D.C. to
Lords Northbrook and Lytton) held the post for twelve years under
three successive Viceroys; has raised the office to a science, and
himself from an official into an institution--(cheers)--acquired
a reputation absolutely unique, and so identified himself with
the position that when a new Viceroy is appointed it seems
more natural to ask who is to be his ‘Bill Beresford’ than his
‘Military Secretary’--(cheers and laughter)--and when it is
Bill himself the Viceroy elect has secured, what is of great
value, the same capacity and undeviating loyalty enjoyed by his
predecessor--(cheers). In all this I need not rely upon my own
judgment, for it is proved a hundred-fold in the fact that he
has been the choice and acquired the confidence and esteem of
successive men of high intellect and such different characters as
Lords Ripon, Dufferin and Lansdowne--(cheers). More than that I
understand his worth has been recognised by a power higher even
than a Viceroy’s, and testified to by his elevation to a Knighthood
in the Order of the Indian Empire, of which he is already a
member--(loud and continued cheering). I knew that would elicit the
hearty congratulations of you all, and I am glad we are the first
to offer them.
“In the social part of his duties, his capacity extends to, and is
felt by all of us, for the influence of the Chief of the Staff is
visible in every detail of the social functions and hospitality
of Government House. I can assure him we not only know it, but
appreciate very warmly the advantages we have derived from it. He
has won all this by sheer force of character, and we find it hard
to realise he is really giving up.
“As sportsman, I can best sum him up in the current colloquialism
that he is absolutely undefeated--(loud and continued cheers).
His stable of racehorses has been for years the chief mainstay of
Calcutta racing; in all weathers and all vicissitudes of fortune
he is to the fore, full of pluck, always has horses to run or to
back, buys freely, and is generally a dispensation of Providence
to stewards, being a staunch supporter of ruling powers and
frequent offers of useful advice born of long experience. His most
remarkable virtue to my mind is his exuberant cheerfulness even
when luck is against him--(cheers). I never met a better loser, and
it means possession of a combination of enviable qualities rarely
met with. I have known his career on the turf for over twenty
years, and to speak of him as I know him he has throughout raced
like an honest English gentleman. As you all know, he is a splendid
whip, and was a first-class performer over jumps, especially on
difficult horses, until he ended his career to that game, and it
was then that he spoilt the shape of the nose I before alluded
to--(much laughter and cheers).
“As social companion, I suppose nobody amongst us has ever had
such a large circle of appreciative acquaintance in circles
from the highest to the lowest, male and female--(laughter and
cheers)--and if I may venture to say it without exhibition of
bias, his popularity is due to his inexhaustible fund of high
spirits, ready sympathy, love for hosts of friends, open-handed
generosity--(cheers)--admiration of beauty, his merry Irish wit,
and infinite capacity of loyal attachment to his pals--(continued
cheers).
“That concludes my dissection of his personality, which the patient
has borne heroically, and I now put him together again as one
piece--(laughter).
“I do not think any man in this room is intuitively more modest in
the estimate of his own merits than my dear friend Bill--(hear,
hear, and cheers). I know his impulse will be to attribute my
praise to my kindly feelings towards him. I anticipate him by
replying that 180 people have met here to do him honour--(loud
and prolonged cheers)--that residents in India are not given to
spasmodic ebullitions of enthusiasm, nor to be influenced by a
passing breath of popular favour. Their whole trend of mind is
in the opposite direction; they are more prone to indifference
generally, and as regards individuals to apathy, and when such a
goodly company as this assembles to bid good-bye to one member of
the community, it bears the practical significance that he has
made a noticeable mark and justifies the general tenour of my
remarks--(cheers).
“I ask him therefore to take that unction to his soul in reflecting
over this entertainment, and assure him that when on behalf of all
of us I now wish him a very warm farewell, health and happiness in
the future, and add a hearty ‘God bless you, old chap,’ we mean
we admire him, that we are his friends, intend to remain so, and
bitterly regret his departure from amongst us--(loud and prolonged
cheers).
“I have now to call a toast to him, Gentlemen, as a typical
soldier, a capable official, an undefeated sportsman, a prince of
good fellows, and a man of mark amongst us.”
The toast was drunk with enthusiastic cheers, the band playing “For
he’s a jolly good fellow” and “Auld Lang Syne,” in both of which the
whole company joined in singing the chorus.
Lord William Beresford stood up to reply, and after the hearty round
of cheering with which his rising was greeted had subsided, spoke as
follows:--
“Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen,--Before I attempt to reply to the
speech in which your Chairman has praised me much more than I
deserve--(No, no)--I must ask you to notice that even the old
schoolfellow and friend he is, he is unable to bring it to
my charge that I am orator, and I must own I feel at a great
disadvantage in this respect compared with him, and if the few
words which I have risen to say seem to any of you to fall short
of what they should, believe me that it is not because they are
not spoken from the heart--(hear, hear, and cheers)--but because
of my inability to give expression to what I feel, and surely it
would be no reproach to anyone if at a time like this he found it
very difficult, if not almost impossible, to thank you in adequate
terms, not only for the manner in which you have accepted and
endorsed the altogether flattering description that Mr. Moore has
given of me and of my career in India, but also for the feelings of
good fellowship which prompted you to ask me to be your guest here
to-night--(cheers).
“I can imagine no greater honour than to find myself at the close
of one’s sojourn in India invited by 180 of one’s fellow-countrymen
in Calcutta to a social meeting like that of to-night--(cheers).
The invitation came to me as a most complete, unexpected and
most gratifying surprise, and will, I assure you all, add to
the brightest and happiest recollections of my last weeks in
India--(hear, hear, and cheers)--which must, alas! of necessity
contain far more of pain than pleasure in them, for no one can cut
himself off finally from a country in which he has been employed
for eighteen years, and those the best of his life, in which he
has made most of his best friends, and mixed as I have tried to do
in all its sport and pastimes, without feeling a shock in doing
so--(cheers).
“Gentlemen, Mr. Moore says he does not quite know what brought me
out to India, and as I, to use his own expression, have appeared
before you in four various phases, first of which he puts as
soldier, I think this is a good opportunity of telling you that it
was in the capacity of a subaltern in the 9th Lancers that I came
out to this country, and he is quite right in saying that it was in
that uniform I first appeared in Calcutta, as extra A.D.C. on Lord
Northbrook’s staff, leading the cortège of His Royal Highness the
Prince of Wales from Prinseps Ghât to Government House.
“I regret that the abundance of brown locks to which he refers no
longer remain, but is replaced by a scanty silver fringe--(laughter
and cheers).
“With regard to the allusion he made to the straightness of the
nose--(laughter)--that he recollects on that occasion, he is not
quite correct, and there is a gentleman (Mr. J. J. Allan) among my
hosts here to-night that can testify to the fact that, owing to
a slight disagreement he and I had many years ago, not actually
in the playing fields of Eton, but close by, he made a little
arrangement that prevented the particular nose referred to being
worn straight by its wearer for the rest of his life--(laughter
and cheers)--this particular battle was not won by either, as it
was acknowledged to be a draw, and I am glad to tell you the two
combatants have been the very best of friends ever since--(hear,
hear, and cheers).
“When I came out with the 9th, the greatest aim and object of my
life was, some day in the future, to get command of that regiment,
but force of circumstances prevented these wishes being gratified,
and I elected, whether for better or worse I cannot say, to remain
as Military Secretary with the Viceroy of India, in preference
to going back as second in command of my old regiment, and thus
closing promotion which I was bound to get by remaining on in my
post out here. I am sorry to say, therefore, that it is years since
I have done any soldiering, and it is a great regret to me on
leaving this country that I cannot return to the dear old regiment
in which I began my service.
“The next section into which Mr. Moore has placed me is the
official one, and with regard to it I may say how fortunate I have
been in having served under five such masters. It is not for me
to make comparisons, or to refer to their respective policies,
but I may be permitted to say, which I do from the bottom of my
heart, that from one and all I invariably received the greatest
kindness, and if I have succeeded in pleasing them, I am fully
recompensed for any trouble I may have taken in the performance of
my various duties; but, Gentlemen, I am afraid that at times the
Military Secretary’s duty necessitates his doing things which may
be displeasing to those who are affected. In such cases I can only
say that I have endeavoured to do my duty to the best of my lights,
and if I have at any time hurt anyone’s feelings in such matters, I
have done so most unwillingly and to my great regret, and I should
like to take this opportunity of stating how much indebted I am to
all the different departments that I have had to deal with for the
help, advice, and support that I have always received on all sides,
and thanks to which my official work has been made comparatively
easy--(cheers)--and when in a few weeks now I hand over the reins
of my office to my successor, the best and kindest wish I can
desire for his welfare is that he may be as ably supported and
leniently dealt with as I have been--(hear, hear, and cheers). I
think he starts his career under very favourable circumstances,
having formerly served his apprenticeship on the Viceroy’s staff,
and has thus become thoroughly conversant with all the details
of that staff. He (Colonel Durand) is a real good soldier; most
popular with everybody who knows him--(cheers)--and I only hope
when the time comes for him to have finished his turn of office as
Military Secretary he will be able to look back to as many happy
days and warm friendships made as I can--(cheers).
“The third section to which the Chairman referred was the sportsman
section, and believe me, I am very proud indeed to have such
a title attached to my name, but I am afraid I can no longer
claim to be the sportsman I used to be owing to a variety of
accidents between the flags, on the polo ground, and in pursuit
of pig and paper, but still I cling to sports of all sorts as
much as circumstances will permit me to do. I have tried all that
are offered to us in India, and I think that many of my hosts
to-night will support me in saying that pig-sticking takes first
place--(hear, hear, and cheers). I certainly must own I have
derived more pleasure from this than either tiger shooting, racing,
or anything else I tried. Certainly I was extremely fortunate when
I first came to India and tried my hand at the spear to have the
advice and guidance of that acknowledged prince of pig-stickers,
who I am proud to see has honoured me to-night with his presence,
Archie Hills, of Patkahari--(loud and continued cheers). It was he
who led the dance of our party the first time I ever rode after
pig; he told me how to hold my spear and use it, and the best day’s
pig-sticking I ever saw in my life was afforded by him at his own
place, when we accounted before tiffin for seventeen boars, three
cut horses, and a collar-bone broken--(cheers and laughter).
“With regard to racing, I have indeed had my full share of the
plums, and it is a pleasant thing to look back on the record of
my stable, which amongst other things can count six Viceroy’s
Cups--(cheers)--three of which are credited to old Myall
King--(cheers)--who, alas! died on the course little over a month
ago--besides two Kooch Behar Cups, two Durbangah Cups, three Civil
Service Cups, and five Grand Military Steeplechases, of which I was
fortunate enough to pilot the winner myself--(loud cheers)--and at
one time or another most of the biggest races in India.
“In this my last year I was indeed pleased to be connected with
the severe tussle for the Viceroy’s Cup, inasmuch as Tostig,
who made such a good fight for it, was imported by me, and was
till quite recently my property--(cheers)--and as His Highness
the Maharajah of Patiala was not fortunate enough to win on this
occasion, he and I--believe me I am quoting his feelings as well
as my own--were compensated to a great extent by the fact that the
much-coveted prize was won by one of my greatest supporters of the
Indian turf--(loud and continued cheers)--who struggled for many
years with crushing bad luck, but stayed the course, and eventually
has been rewarded for his pluck by having won the Viceroy’s
Cups two years in succession, and all the other big races this
season--(continued cheers). I may add that I hope he may live for
many years and carry off in the future several more prizes of the
Indian turf, and though His Highness the Maharajah of Patiala has
not yet won this most coveted prize, which, by the way, is no fault
of his own, he has spared no expense in trying to get together the
best horses money can buy--(hear, hear)--and has done all that a
sportsman could do to become a recipient of the Viceroy’s Cup,
but though Dame Fortune seems up to the present to frown upon his
endeavours in this particular direction, I prophesy that his time
will come when his wishes will be gratified, and nobody wishes
him this success more than myself--(cheers). He, at any rate, can
congratulate himself at this moment on possessing the best horse in
India, of which there can be no doubt, as our best authority out
here has declared officially that Sprig o’ Myrtle is at weight for
age and class, 8 lbs. in front of the invincible Highborn at a mile
and three quarters, and I only hope that authority is correct in
his estimation of this son of Trenton--(much laughter and cheers).
“I am sorry to say I have been obliged to give up the game of
polo, but I still have a sneaking regard for the pursuit of
paper--(cheers)--and I hope, with the kind assistance of our
Honorary Secretary, we shall have some very pleasant paper-chases
this my last cold weather among you--(hear, hear).
“Now, Gentlemen, I have come to the last phase or section referred
to, namely, that of social companion, and on this head I can say
nothing. It is needless for me to do so as your presence here
to-night fully justifies the many nice things the Chairman has said
about me. He is, as you doubtless know, one of my oldest friends;
he has known me longer almost than anybody present, and has always,
whether in weal or woe, extended the hand of true friendship
and hospitality to me ever since I first came to Calcutta in
1875--(loud cheers).
“Before I sit down, I must again thank you one and all for the
splendid reception you have given me this evening, and for the very
kind manner in which my friends have rallied round me to-night
and drunk my health, and I heartily wish to all of you the warm
farewell you have wished to me.”
Lord William resumed his seat amid loud cheers, which were continued
for some time.
Signatures recorded at the farewell dinner to Lord William Beresford
are reproduced here.
SIGNATURES OF THE
GUESTS PRESENT AT THE
CALCUTTA BANQUET.
[Illustration: (several signatures; page 1 of 10)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
[Illustration: (several signatures)]
Having bid farewell to Calcutta, on his way down country, Lord Bill
managed to stay at Lucknow to see his horses run for the last time
in India. Good old Lucknow, where he had run many races and had some
glorious times.
To send him away feeling happy his Mite won the Civil Service Cup and
pots of money; also another race the same day, namely, the Chutter
Munzil Purse; Vixen won the Horse Handicap on the third day; Negus
won the Derby on the fourth day. After this Lord William made his
final bow to India.
CHAPTER XIV
HIS MARRIAGE
First Visit to the Deepdene--Finds a Relation in His
Bedroom--Engagement to be Married Announced--School Treats--One New
Year’s Morning--King Edward VII Visits the Deepdene When Prince of
Wales--A Narrow Escape--“Tommy, Where Are You?”--Why Lord William
wore a Turban--Fast Trotters and Their Doings--Mishap on the Way
to the Derby--Racing in England--Racing Geography--Another Racing
Partnership--Accident While Hunting--Mr. Palmer to the Rescue--Lord
William Tells a Story Against Himself--A Son Born.
We now enter on the short third volume of Lord William’s life. He
landed in England during the spring of 1894, bringing with him
various faithful retainers, also some favourite horses and ponies. In
June of that year he paid his first visit to the Deepdene, Dorking,
as a guest of Lily Duchess of Marlborough, having been invited at
Lady Sarah Wilson’s suggestion to make up a party for Ascot races.
It will be remembered that Lady Sarah was a sister of the 8th Duke of
Marlborough, whose widow was renting the Deepdene.
Lord William was amused to find in his bachelor bedroom a print
of one of his relations, namely, Lord Marcus Gervais Beresford,
Archbishop of Armagh, Lord Primate of Ireland, whose eldest son
married Mary Annabella, sister of Sir William Vernon Harcourt, who
was first cousin to the author’s mother; Sir William’s mother
and author’s grandfather being brother and sister (_vide_ Burke,
Gooch-Vernon Harcourt); the author’s mother having been Miss Mary
Teresa Gooch, daughter of the Rev. William Gooch, Canon of York; she
having married Robert Calverly Bewicke-Bewicke, B.A., J.P., D.L., of
Coulby Manor, Yorkshire.
It is interesting to note Lord William’s father married his beautiful
wife while on a visit to this self-same gentleman looking down from
the walls of the Deepdene.
In September Lord William returned to India for a few months to
attend to some business and racing matters, after which he announced
his engagement to Lily Duchess of Marlborough, which came as a
surprise to most people. In India he was gradually becoming regarded
as a confirmed bachelor, though it seemed incredible that anyone who
was such an admirer of the fair sex and who was equally admired by
them in return should be able to escape; indeed, his having escaped
is only one more proof of his cool head and ability.
It was not a long engagement, April 30th, 1895, was chosen for the
wedding; when Lilian Warren, daughter of Cicero Price, Commodore
of the U.S. Navy, married Lord William Beresford as her third
husband, the first having been Mr. Louis Hammersley of New York, an
exceedingly wealthy man who left his wife a large fortune. Secondly,
she married the 8th Duke of Marlborough, who died in 1892, but not
before the Duchess’s fortune had done much for Blenheim Palace.
[Illustration:
_Photo. Russell, Baker Street_
LILY, DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH]
Lord William and his bride made their vows at the Church of
St. George’s, Hanover Square, witnessed by crowds of friends. The
bridegroom was supported by his younger brother, Lord Marcus, as
best man. Her Grace was given away by her stepson the 9th Duke of
Marlborough.
The Church was charmingly decorated with lilies of all sorts, a
pretty compliment to the bride’s name.
The Duke of Cambridge sat beside Lord William and the United States
Ambassador and Mrs. Bayard beside the bride. When the service was
over Lord and Lady William Beresford drove to the bride’s house
in Carlton House Terrace, where they received the congratulations
of their many friends, all of whom did justice to the good things
provided for them.
Later in the day the bride and bridegroom left the town for the
Deepdene, that lovely place being rented from Lord Francis Hope. It
stands on the eastern side of the old coaching road near Dorking. On
the north the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway winds. The
grounds around the house are amongst the most beautiful in England,
when the rhododendrons are in flower the gardens and grounds are a
blaze of colour and a delight. It is charmingly secluded and yet near
enough to the world to easily see as much of it as might be desired.
It was here, I believe, that Beaconsfield wrote his _Coningsby_.
The original house was built in Charles I’s reign by the Hon.
Charles Howard, son of the Duke of Norfolk, but it was pulled down
and rebuilt by a descendant and eventually sold to a Mr. Hope, a
very rich art collector, whose daughter married the late Duke of
Newcastle, and at her death the Deepdene became the property of Lord
Francis Pelham-Clinton, a grandson of the Duke’s, who took the name
of Hope on succeeding to the estate; he leased the place to Lily
Duchess of Marlborough for twenty-one years, and it was there the
last few years of Lord William’s life were mostly spent.
It seems a strange coincidence that Lord William’s wife should have
lived five years with her first husband, five years with the second
and five years with the third!
It was a great pleasure to Lord William fixing up all his trophies
and treasures in their permanent home. The dining-room, the
billiard-room, the front hall and indeed every nook and corner were
filled with them, all having interesting histories of their own.
An arcade runs round three sides of the lofty hall, above this there
is a gallery where guns, spears, assegais, antlers, racing cups, and
beautiful inlaid vases are arranged in profusion. Also regimental
trophies, of which he was fond and proud, for he loved his old
regiment.
In the billiard-room there are many masterpieces of great value,
also in one corner stands a small easel in which reposes a picture
entitled “Bill wins,” below is an inscription, explaining the scene
at Curraghmore Steeplechases on April 30th, 1874, his wedding having
taken place exactly twenty-one years after on April 30th, 1895.
[Illustration: THE DEEPDENE, DORKING]
[Illustration: FRONT HALL AT THE DEEPDENE]
One of the ambitions of Lord William’s life was to win the Derby,
and he began looking about him for likely winners; it did not take
him long to collect some useful horses, though I doubt very much
if his racing in England ever gave him as much pleasure as it did in
India. His wife was most interested in his horses and was as anxious
as he was that he should own the best. She was a kind-hearted woman
who did a great deal for the comfort and happiness of all around her,
the poor of Dorking are not likely to forget her or her husband, for
they closely associated themselves with all the local charities and
philanthropic undertakings.
Nothing pleased Lord William better than to have a house full of
people; he loved to have some of the old 9th with him. It had been
hoped when he settled down to home-life he would take things more
easily, but he still continued to cram two or three days’ work into
one, just as he did in India, he had not yet found a day quite long
enough for all he wanted to do.
On his birthday he always gave all the Dorking school children
a treat in the park at Deepdene, entertaining about 1800 of all
denominations, and surely no children were ever so entertained
before, no expense was spared that would add to their pleasure, and
he always took part in the proceedings himself, which added much to
the children’s pleasure, while, I believe, he enjoyed it himself
thoroughly; he loved to see children happy and hear them laugh. He
arranged their races, threw bags full of pennies to be scrambled
for, taking particular notice of any child, girl or boy, who after
striving was not strong enough to capture any pence amongst the
hustling crowd of eager bairns, these he used to reward with pennies
privately; he said he could not bear the look of disappointment on
their faces when time after time they failed.
Lord William never imagined he could be imposed upon, with the
exception perhaps of a certain section of the racing fraternity, but
children managed to do it fairly successfully sometimes.
One New Year’s morning, for instance, he had asked Mr. Palmer,
who attended to all his wife’s business when she was Duchess of
Marlborough (and afterwards to the time of her death) to breakfast
with him at nine o’clock. Arriving at the Deepdene and finding his
lordship had not finished dressing he went to his room to talk to him
until his toilet was completed. On entering he found Lord William
with the French windows open and a small crowd of children standing
outside uttering the time hallowed, “Wish you a happy New Year, sir,”
while the recipient of those kindly wishes was throwing occasional
shillings and sixpences to the expectant little crowd. Mr. Palmer
watched for a short time and then said, “Well, these kiddies are
getting the best of you.” “How?” asked Lord William. “Why,” said
Mr. Palmer, “in the first place, they go away and bring others, and
in the second, some of them have been up, gone, and come back again
without your noticing it, possibly may have been two or three times.”
“Oh, no!” replied Lord William, but he turned to one group who were
very fervent in their wishes for his happiness and asked, “How many
times have you been here this morning?” The reply came, “Only twice,
sir,” without a moment’s hesitation. He then turned to a group of
three boys, one somewhat older than the other two, and said to the
biggest, “If I give you a shilling, how will you divide it among the
three of you?” The boy considered for a moment and then replied, “I
would keep sixpence myself and give the other sixpence to the other
two.”
Lord William foretold a great career for this specimen. While walking
into the dining-room Lord William said to Mr. Palmer, “I suppose some
of those kids have been too bright for me, but after all what does it
mean; I suppose I have given away a fiver and with that fiver I have
carried joy and satisfaction to many a child’s heart, better so than
losing fifty to some bookie. In the one case I do get something for
my money, in the latter case nothing.”
In October, 1895, King Edward VII, then Prince of Wales, stayed
with the Beresfords at Deepdene, others staying in the house at the
time were the Sassoons, Colonel Brabazon 10th Hussars, otherwise
known as “Beautiful Bwab” (he had some difficulty with his r’s),
Captain Holford, Lady Sarah Wilson and Mr. Winston Churchill, also, I
believe, Mr. Charles Moore.
His Majesty enjoyed his visit. He was taken to see the Home Farm
where Lord William attended to his business and where he kept all his
horses except his racing stud; they were at Epsom, under the care of
Mr. Willson, who came from India with Lord William. The farm was a
delightful sunny spot and was occupied by Lord Bill’s head man and
his wife; occasionally his lordship had some cheery bachelor parties
there. The view was charming, looking over Boxhill and the North
Downs, sweeping the valley towards Reigate and Bletchingley. It was
on these downs that Bishop Wilberforce met his death in 1873; the
church there is a memorial to him.
Soon after his marriage, Lord William had one of his many accidents
while driving a fast trotter named Hugh from Leatherhead. The only
other occupants being Lord Marcus and the groom Tommy Ryan, who came
from Curraghmore. The night was very dark and wet, but they were
thundering along at a very fast pace when Hugh shied violently,
upsetting the whole caboodle. When they began collecting themselves
Tommy was missing, so his master shouted out, “Tommy, where are you?”
From the other side of a wall came the answer, “I’m here, my lord,
on my head in a ditch.” The brothers were much amused. Amongst other
things Lord Bill’s head was cut, obliging him to appear at breakfast
next morning with it bandaged up; his mother who was staying there
at the time asked anxiously what was the matter, he wished to avoid
frightening her so told one of those useful white lies which oil the
wheels of life, saying quite coolly that he always wore a turban on a
certain anniversary of some event in India! which quite satisfied his
mother.
A fast trotter or two for his buggy was considered a necessity, and
he brought his chestnut mare, Ilee, from India with him, he said
he could not part with her, she had so often saved his life by her
sagacity. She apparently did not leave her wisdom behind her in the
East, for one night when for a wonder Lord Bill was alone and driving
her home in the dark, as he turned into the lower drive at the
Deepdene and she was doing a little bit of her best, she suddenly
stopped dead, causing a bit of a splutter but probably saving Lord
William’s life, for, thinking he had returned, the lodge keeper had
put up the bar for the night across the drive blocking ingress or
egress without his permission and knowledge.
Some of Lord William’s trotters did remarkable things; Harry, another
prodigy, he raced against a train between two stations on the
Brighton line, I believe it was between Burford and Dorking, for a
bet, of course, and ended in a dead-heat! It used to be quite a joke
amongst the people of Dorking when they heard one of the trotters
thundering down the road to shout out, “Clear the way for his
lordship,” all using their best endeavours to clear everything out of
his way. The Dorking people had taken him to their hearts, and they
were so proud of all his feats and doings. It must be recognised more
indulgence and latitude was allowed to his lordship than would be
extended to everybody, but that is just one of the remarkable things
about him, everybody succumbed to him, allowing licence that would
certainly not have been permitted to anybody else.
Piloteer, a handsome grey trotter, won many prizes at Richmond,
Dublin and other places. I am able to give a good photo of him taken
just after winning one of his prizes. He was an Irish horse.
During 1896 there were various hairbreadth escapes, without which
I am sure Lord Bill would have felt dull. While driving his coach
from Ascot to Bishopsgate when trying to pass some other coaches the
leaders stepped into a furze-bush and then bolted; if history tells
true the coach was upset, but of that I cannot speak with certainty,
but I do know for certain that all in the coach were full of praise
for the wonderful driving which had enabled them to escape unhurt. On
the coach at the time were Lord and Lady Marcus Beresford, that fine
old sportsman, Colonel Chaine, and his wife, Major Braithwaite and
Mrs. Featherstonhaugh.
Another mishap occurred once going to the Derby, I think, if I
remember rightly, when some of the occupants were landed over a hedge
into a field. They were all men this time and one who was there told
me about it. I believe it happened when his lordship was racing
against young Mr. Fownes; at least that is how the tale was told to
me, but it was long ago and I hope I am not taking anybody’s name in
vain.
Lord William’s coach was always one of the best turned out and horsed
at the Coaching and Four-in-hand Club meets.
His first successful racing season after his return to this country
was 1896. He knew the business thoroughly from A to Z, to which
much of his success was due, for it is no use anybody saying in a
light-hearted way “I am going to race,” expecting to do wonderful
things because they know the points of a horse and have judged
the jumping at local agricultural shows; it not only spells
disappointment, but often financial disaster. No one unless they have
been behind the scenes or learnt by bitter experience can form any
idea of how much there is to know before there is even a possibility
of success. To begin with, and it is a big beginning, there are the
numerous authorities which it is wise and advantageous to keep in a
pleasant frame of mind, and under no circumstances bandy words with,
or argue; fancy arguing or bandying words with the Jockey Club for
instance, the National Hunt Committee, or the Turf Club of Ireland;
yet all have to be considered. Many are the rules, regulations,
and niceties in the way of etiquettes requiring digestion, all an
education in themselves.
I had not grasped until Lord William explained it to me that
according to the rules of racing geography, Ireland, the Isle of Man,
and the Channel Islands are _not_ included in the expression Great
Britain, they are _only_ the United Kingdom.
Another perplexing thing when you see “owner” in connection with a
horse’s name you rather naturally conclude the horse belongs to him,
but as a matter of fact it may mean almost anything, the horse may
only have been leased for his racing years, or he may be shared by
partners when presumably only half the horse belongs to “Owner.”
All of this was of course A B C to Lord William, and he knew every
race, its dates and distances, stakes and conditions by heart. He
considered Newmarket the best course in the world.
Liverpool is a terror; if any of my readers are interested in
steeplechasing and have not been over the Aintree Course there, I
advise them to walk round and look at the jumps in cold blood, they
will wonder any horses or men can be found with pluck enough to face
them. No Beresford, as far as I know, has ever yet seen his colours
carried successfully in that much coveted prize, the Grand National
at Liverpool, though Lord Marcus got fairly near once with Chimney
Sweep, when he ran second to Captain Machell’s Reugny, ridden by
that splendid amateur Mr. J. Maunsell Richardson, in 1874, and again
in 1879, when Jackal carried the light blue and black cap, being
beaten by Mr. Garry Moore on the Liberator. A Liverpool which will
possibly for ever bear the unprecedented mark of four brothers,
namely the Beasleys, having mounts in the chase, and they all made
the course, “Tommy” Beasley coming home behind Lord Marcus’s horse.
Some of the Irish courses are also formidable. At the modern
Leopardstown, for instance, where in the past there has been plenty
of grief. Punchestown is not quite so bad; Irish horses do well
there, they understand the kind of jumps.
At the end of 1895, Lord William entered into partnership with Mr.
Pierre Lorillard, sharing a number of race-horses with him, amongst
the most successful being Paris III, which was bought in 1896 from
Mrs. White, who was I believe the widow of the Hon. James White so
successful in Australian racing. The horse had raced in England in
her name before being purchased by Lord William, but had done no
good, directly he appeared in Lord William’s colours he won the
popular Northamptonshire Stakes, value £925; now many years defunct.
Five horses ran, but Paris III won by six lengths; it was a popular
victory as he was favourite at 2 to 1. Cannon was up and the horse
carried 3 lbs. overweight, nevertheless he won easily; he also won
the Prince’s Handicap at Gatwick as well as the Lewes Handicap.
Amongst other horses owned at this time were Diakka, Myakka, Caiman,
and Nonsuch, sold later to the Prince of Wales, also Berzak, which
latter was a bitter disappointment, as he failed to stand his
preparation for the Derby.
The partnership did not last long, as the doctors advised Mr.
Lorillard to give up racing for a time, but they had won twenty-seven
races before the partnership was dissolved. Lord William bought Mr.
Lorillard’s interest in the stable.
In December, 1896, while out with the Warnham Stag Hounds, Lord
William met with a terrible accident, Mr. Palmer, who has already
been mentioned, happening to be out the same day on a horse he
had lately bought from his lordship; they were both crossing the
Gatwick racecourse after a check, there were some stiff railings
in front of them, which there was no occasion to jump as there was
an opening further down, but a lady riding in front cleared the
rails satisfactorily, that was quite enough, for Lord William must
of course follow; unfortunately either his horse slipped or took
off too late, turning a somersault over the railings, poor Lord
William beneath him dangerously near his heels, but he called out
to Mr. Palmer to sit on his horse’s head, when a most curious thing
happened. Mr. Palmer in his anxiety to get quickly to help his
lordship did not notice some wire netting under the broken fence,
over this he fell right on to the horse’s head, this so startled
him he got up without any kicking or plunging, releasing his rider.
Help was called, as evidently Lord William was badly hurt; on a
stretcher they carried the poor sufferer to a neighbouring house,
where he was examined, but in the stress and hurry a wrong diagnosis
was arrived at. Mr. Palmer telegraphed to London for a specialist,
and to his local doctor at Dorking, then a medical man who happened
to be present and Mr. Palmer took him home, where the local doctor
was awaiting them and shortly afterwards the specialist from town
arrived. It was then discovered that his pelvis had been broken,
so his suffering can be well imagined; they had been considerably
augmented I hear at the house he was first carried into with the
kindly but terribly mistaken endeavour to pull off his boots
instead of cutting them off. Mr. Palmer says he shall never forget
the agonies that were suffered and yet not a murmur or word of
impatience, not even a groan from the martyr. He was most anxious his
wife should not be shocked with the news, as an interesting event
was looked forward to in the early spring, and she was at the time
resting. The news was carefully kept from her until the doctors had
done their work. He was bound up and put to bed, where of course he
remained for some time hovering between life and death. One day when
his doctors hoped he had turned the corner and was going to recover,
they told him he was with luck going to recover, but that 99 out of a
100 with broken pelvis bones did not. As they were leaving the room
they heard Lord Bill laughing, seeing nothing to laugh at they asked
what amused him, he replied, “Oh nothing, I was only thinking of the
other 99 poor devils!”
Certainly Lord William got about again after a time, but he was never
the same man, his pluck and spirit were still unquenchable, but his
powers of physical resistance were shattered. He tired more easily
and did not feel up to much exertion; he got up too soon, being
anxious to attend the funeral of his sister-in-law, Blanche Lady
Waterford, to whom he was greatly attached. This was February 22nd,
1897. Everybody tried to dissuade him, fearing it might throw him
back, but he would go.
Lord William was at his best when telling stories against himself;
here is one of them. He had a party in the house for covert shooting,
he did not care very much for the sport himself, and had not done
much of it, though he enjoyed a day at the time. He used to leave
the arranging and managing of the shoots chiefly to Mr. Palmer. One
of these shooting parties was being arranged and he told Mr. Palmer
to bring his young son whom he was sure would enjoy a day with the
pheasants. The little lad was about twelve, and his name was Spencer,
he stood mostly by Lord William during the day. When he went home at
night having had a very happy day, he asked his father if he ought
not to write and thank Lord William for letting him see the shooting,
to which his father replied, “Certainly.”
“What shall I say, father?” asked the boy.
“Oh, you must write your own letter, you are quite old enough for
that,” so off he went, wrote the letter and posted it.
Next morning when everybody was assembled at breakfast at the
Deepdene before another day’s shoot, Lord Bill entered holding a
letter in his hand, and after making some jokes about his own prowess
with the gun and he feared his merits were not fully appreciated by
his friends, said, “Listen to this, the opinion of one of my young
friends,” and he read:
“DEAR LORD WILLIAM,
I have enjoyed to-day very much, I think you shot very well. I
noticed you generally killed the birds with the second barrel.
Your friend,
SPENCER PALMER.”
The most successful of Lord William’s horses in 1896 were Diakka,
Peveril of the Peak Plate being his greatest triumph; Berzak the
Newmarket First Spring Two Year Old Stakes, and in the Clearwell
Stakes he ran a dead heat with Goletta, on whom odds were laid.
Nonsuch won two small races.
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM--IN OFFICIAL CAPACITY]
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM AND HIS SON BILLY]
On February 4th, 1897, a son was born to the William Beresfords;
at first he was very delicate, no doubt owing to the anxiety his
mother suffered when Lord William had his accident in December,
1896, so small and delicate was he that he was put into an incubator
for a short time, fearing a breath might blow him away; now he is a
six-footer, so his nursing and care answered. He was named William
Warren de la Poer. Both parents were devoted to their child, who was
very like his father. When Lord William was driving his wife on the
coach and was going rather faster than she liked (she being very
nervous) and remonstrating he used to say, “Oh, I thought you would
be in a hurry to get back to the boy!” As the baby grew older Lord
Marcus used to tease its father by saying, “The child does not know
the difference between you and me,” but baby did and always chose to
go to Lord William.
CHAPTER XV
BRINGS TOD SLOAN TO ENGLAND
Engagement of Tod Sloan as Jockey--Beresford Family
Affection--Caiman Wins Classic Race--Democrat and His Races--A
Tip for the “Blues”--Accident to Sloan--His Downfall--Five Years’
Racing and Winnings in Stakes Alone--Volodyovski Bought--At
Liverpool When Ambush II Won the Grand National
We are now dealing with 1897, when Tod Sloan was introduced to the
British public by Lord William, who had been keeping an eye on the
lad’s performances in America, observing that in 1895 he had 442
mounts, and won 132 races, in California four races being won in a
day. In consequence of this and what he was told of the lad, his
lordship sent a cable asking the jockey to come over here as he had
some useful horses to be ridden. The years 1897-1898-1899 and 1900
were great for the Beresford stable.
Sloan was for several years much in evidence, so it may be worth
while to pause a moment and introduce him to those of my readers
who have either forgotten or never known anything about him. His
real name was James Forman Sloan, when a very small boy he had been
adopted by people named Blauser, who thinking they were being witty,
called him “Toad,” because he was so tiny, this by degrees condensed
itself into Tod, and Tod Sloan it remained to the end of the chapter.
In America Sloan had been riding for Mr. W. C. Whitney, who released
him to ride for Lord William, saying he should very likely be in
England himself before long. As a matter of fact he arrived at much
the same time as the jockey, and met Lord William for the first time
at Newmarket, where Sloan introduced him to his lordship, the outcome
of this introduction being they became partners. At this time Jakes
Pincus was training Lord William’s horses, later Huggins, who came
over with Mr. Lorillard, reigned in his stead. Pincus was another
American; he had not been long in this country, yet he was the man
who trained the only American horse that ever won the Derby, if my
memory is to be trusted. Iroquois was the horse. The man was a bit of
a jockey himself, I have been told.
Mr. Cuthbert was secretary to Lord William’s stable at that time,
later I believe he went to Newmarket in the employ of Mr. George
Lambton.
Sloan was one of those fortunate jockeys who can eat what they like
without putting on weight, very different from some other jockeys
of that date. Fred Archer, for instance, who had to breakfast off
hot castor oil and a slice of thin toast with a view to keeping his
weight down, he dared not dine with friends, as owing to dieting so
rigidly he felt he was a wet blanket at a feast. Poor fellow, in
his endeavours to ride 8 st. 7 lbs., he became a wreck very early
in life, the wonder was he lived as long as he did. It will be
remembered at the age of thirty he felt he had had enough and took
his own life. Though much liked and perhaps the most popular of
jockeys he was severe with his mounts.
Sloan was fond of animals and gentle with them, Mornington Cannon
also, and they seem to have achieved equal success. Archer’s seat was
the opposite of Sloan’s, for he sat well back, while Sloan it was
introduced that peculiar monkey up a stick seat which became more
or less the fashion amongst the American jockeys. Archer was very,
very canny with his money, which at times used to annoy people, Sloan
on the other hand was too generous and let other people help him to
spend his earnings almost too freely. Cannon liked riding waiting
races, while Sloan liked to get away and come right through. There
was one occasion certainly when Cannon waited a little too long with
Flying Fox, not giving himself time to get home, but he was a good
judge of pace.
Sloan’s seat used to be much commented on when first he came over to
this country, people thought he rode with very short stirrups, but
he did not really, it was the crouching along the neck of the horse
when going fast which gave him that appearance. He attributed much of
his success to this attitude as it gave less resistance to the wind,
therefore helpful to the horses.
Sloan entirely agreed with me on one point, which I have already
expressed in my book _Women in the Hunting Field_, namely that horses
will not tread on you when down if they can possibly help it. _He_
went so far as to say they “would not unless pulled into it.”
Lord William used to say Sloan had no luck unless he was there, and
really it seemed like it. When Lord Bill lost a race he had been
hoping and expecting to win his face was a study, he had marvellous
self-control, and beyond growing very white showed no sign of feeling
and was always most generous to the unhappy and often equally
disappointed jockey.
Lord William thought he had a great horse in St. Cloud II. I fear he
did not fulfil his owner’s expectations, though certainly he was a
great horse, but it was in size, he stood seventeen hands.
The largest stakes Lord William ever went for was probably over
Sandia in the Cambridgeshire. Either St. Cloud or Sandia ought to
have won easily. Lord William and Sloan were under the impression
they had won with Sandia, but Mr. Robinson, the judge, was under the
impression they had not, but that is an old story now. At the time
there was a good deal of feeling about it.
Sandia won the old Cambridgeshire in the Autumn of 1897, and Diakka
won the Duke of York Stakes at Kempton Park, for which he started
favourite.
Lord William found time to go to York and help his brother, Lord
Charles, now Lord Beresford, who was standing in the Conservative
interest against Mr. Furniss. Lord Marcus also went to give a helping
hand. In Lord Beresford’s own book he gives some amusing accounts of
his brother’s smart and witty repartees to questions asked by the
electors. There was a good deal of excitement in the town at the
time. Lord Beresford won by eleven votes, rather a near thing. It
was too much for the poor Lord Mayor, he died the same night from
excitement and strain.
The three brothers were very happy working together over this
election, the affection they had felt for one another in youth had
not been estranged, they were still devoted to one another, it was
always charming to hear them speak of their relatives. What does this
family affection spring from I wonder? It is not often met with; take
two well-known families the Scotch Gordons and the Irish Waterfords.
The Gordons according to their own account could as brothers never
agree, if one told a story of what he had done at cricket, racing,
or some such thing, and one of his brothers happened to be present
he would flatly contradict him, telling him he did not believe it,
and he was telling tarra-diddles; followed of course by a free fight,
very often even when staying in friends’ houses. Once speaking of
their quarrelsomeness Lord Granville Gordon, commonly called Granny,
said, “You know our family is not like the Beresfords one bit, they
are always full of praise of one another and inseparable. If you were
to say to Lord Marcus or Markey as we call him, ‘That was a great
thing you brought off the other day,’ the reply would certainly be
something of this sort, ‘Oh yes, but you should see my brother Bill,
he can do ten times better,’ or ‘You should see Charlie, no one can
touch him’; the same with Lord Charles, it is always how much better
his brothers could do things than himself.”
An uncle of mine, the Rev. Francis Gooch, used to fish at Ford Abbey
in Northumberland by the kind permission of Lady Waterford. One day
when Lord Charles was up there and he was speaking to my uncle he
said, “Do you know my brother Bill?” The reply being in the negative
Lord Charles said, “Then bedad you don’t know the finest man in the
world.” It is really a beautiful and uncommon thing to have lived
through the great part of their allotted years, knowing each other
intimately, loving each other tenderly, without one spark of jealous
fault-finding, superiority, or littleness. The pity there are not
more families equally attached, they do not know what they miss;
looking back through the sketch book of their lives, that family
affection has added warmth and beautiful colouring to many of its
pictures, to be recalled and lived through again when the day is far
spent and night is near.
In 1898 Lord William owned many winners entered in the name of one
or other of the two partners. Caiman as a two year old won the
Middle Park Plate, value £2775, Sloan riding; beating the Duke of
Westminster’s Flying Fox ridden by Mornington Cannon. I am able to
give a beautiful photograph of Caiman at the starting-post the day he
won this race. It will be noticed Sloan did not ride very short, as I
have already pointed out. It will also be noticed his hand is up to
his mouth, this was a habit or trick of his, he always put his hand
to his mouth when a horse was walking or in a very slow pace. Whether
he had any theories about it or not I do not know.
[Illustration: TOD SLOAN IN LORD WILLIAM’S COLOURS]
[Illustration:
_Photo. Rouch_
CAIMAN AT THE POST FOR THE MIDDLE PARK PLATE THE DAY HE BEAT FLYING
FOX. TOD SLOAN IN LORD WILLIAM’S COLOURS]
Flying Fox was a horse that stood out prominently in racing records,
not only as a triple crown winner, but as the horse that fetched the
highest price ever paid at a sale by auction for a racehorse, namely
£39,375, Kingsclere and Prince Palatine being bought by private
contract by Mr. J. B. Joel at £40,000, a price that would perhaps not
have been reached under the hammer.
In the Two Thousand Guineas value £4250 Caiman only ran second, Sloan
up, Flying Fox winning this time, Cannon riding. For the St. Leger
at Doncaster value £4050 Flying Fox again won, Caiman second, both
ridden by the same jockey as in the previous races.
In 1900 Caiman only won the Lingfield Park Stakes value £2420, his
wins, however, as a two year old in 1898 were £3557, as a three year
old £3884 and as a four year old £2420, making the pleasing total of
£9861.
The chief races won in 1898 were the Clearwell Stakes and Middle
Park Plate by Caiman, Esher Stakes by Diakka, Thirty-fifth Biennial
at Ascot by Sandia, Exeter Stakes by Dominie. Mykka the Lancaster
Nursery First October Two Year Old Stakes, Prendergast Stakes, and
Sandown Great Sapling Plate. On September 30th, Sloan won the Bretby
Welter on Draco for Lord William by six lengths, the next race the
Scurry Nursery on Manatee, the next race again the Rous Memorial
Stakes on Landrail by three lengths, another on Libra, by two
lengths, the Newmarket St. Leger on Galashiels by a head, making five
wins and a second out of seven mounts, not a bad day for one stable.
Huggins, who was training the horses, lived at Heath House, the
former home of the great Dawson trainers, “Mat,” and after him
his nephew George. Heath House will always remain most famous in
connection with the name of the uncle, as most of “Mat” Dawson’s
greatest classic efforts came from that home; for the late Lord
Falmouth, Duke of Portland, Lord Hastings of Melton fame, and lastly
crowned with the success of Lord Rosebery’s Ladas.
The historic Democrat now came on the scenes in 1899. An American
bred horse, his sire being Sensation, his dam Equality. This handsome
and gentle chestnut with four white legs won no less than seven out
of eleven races as a two year old, worth £12,939, including the
Coventry Stakes at Ascot, the National Breeders’ Foal Stakes at
Sandown, and the Middle Park Plate and Dewhurst Plate. The light blue
and black cap was doing good business.
A record of all Democrat’s races may be interesting:
TWO YEAR OLD RECORD, 1899
May 1st. Great Surrey Breeders’ Foal Plate, Epsom; 4th
(Sloan).
May 5th. Royal Two Year Old Plate, Kempton Park; 2nd
(Sloan), £200.
May 11th. Bedford Plate, Newmarket; 2nd (Sloan), £50.
June 13th. Coventry Stakes, Ascot; 1st (Sloan), £1,826, beating
H.R.H. Prince of Wales’s horse, Diamond
Jubilee, ridden by Watts.
July 1st. Hurst Park Foal Plate, Hurst Park; 1st (Sloan),
£1,135.
July 15th. National Breeders’ Produce Stakes, Sandown Park;
1st (Sloan), £4,357.
Sept. 5th. Champagne Stakes, Doncaster; 1st (Sloan), £1,310.
Sept. 29th. Rous Memorial Stakes, Newmarket; 1st (Sloan),
£568.
Oct. 6th. The Imperial Stakes, Kempton Park; 2nd (Sloan),
£300.
Oct 14th. Middle Park Plate, Newmarket; 1st (Sloan),
£2,305, beating Prince of Wales’s Diamond
Jubilee.
Oct. 26th. The Dewhurst Plate, Newmarket, Houghton;
1st (Sloan), £1,432; Prince of Wales’s Diamond
Jubilee 2nd.
THREE YEAR OLD RUNNING, 1900
May 30th. Epsom Derby.
Democrat ran but was not placed, the race being
won by Diamond Jubilee, but this time Sloan
was not riding Democrat, but one called Disguise
for another owner, and was severely reprimanded
for this breach of Rule 140, forbidding
crossing.
June 14th. The New Biennial, Ascot. Democrat not placed;
ridden by Weldon. Sloan rode the winner,
Courlan.
Oct. 9th. The Royal Stakes, Newmarket; 1st (L. Reiff),
£586. This was Democrat’s last win; he ran
later at Liverpool for the Autumn Cup, but was
not placed.
I am under the impression that the last time Lord William’s colours
were seen on a racecourse was at Manchester, when his Billow II, bred
in Australia, won the Autumn Plate, ridden by Reiff. Jolly Tar won
six races in 1900.
The year Democrat won the Coventry Stakes at Ascot (1899) Lord
William was standing outside the “Blues’” tent after luncheon talking
to some of his friends, amongst others Sir Claude de Crespigny,
discussing the merits of the different horses, when he was heard to
say apparently as much to himself as his friends, “It’s all very well
their making the Prince’s horse (Diamond Jubilee) favourite; mine
has just as good a chance of winning.” This was repeated to some of
the “Blues,” who had not been having a very good time over the Trial
Stakes, adding, the Royal horse is at evens and Bill’s at three’s,
they selected the latter and landed the long odds. After this they
told Sir Claude if he had another good tip like that for the next
day they hoped he would come and have luncheon again.
Sloan was never a great admirer of Democrat, why I do not know, as
the horse proved himself one of the best of his years.
Riding at Kempton in 1898 a horse reared over with Sloan, hurting
his pelvis bone. Seeing what pain the man was in and knowing from
experience something about it, Lord William said, “Your racing is
done for to-day, my little man.” “But,” said Sloan, “who then is
going to ride your Democrat?” Lord William replied, “I shall put
Cannon up.” This was anguish to Sloan, who was somewhat jealous of
Cannon, but he may have found consolation in the result, as the horse
did not win. His owner thought it was due to the change of jockey,
horses are very susceptible to any change of hands.
Sloan always considered the greatest achievement of his life was
beating Flying Fox on Caiman in the Middle Park Plate, when Cannon,
as referred to earlier, waited just a little too long before letting
Flying Fox out, not leaving time to pick up and win.
In 1899 Lord William won his first and only classic race with his
Sibola at Newmarket in the One Thousand, Sloan riding. There were
great rejoicings in the Beresford camp. Sibola ought to have won the
Oaks that year, but got a bad start. Some people thought it was due
to a fit of temper on Sloan’s part, others attributed the defeat to
Sloan, but giving other reasons; be that as it may, it was a great
disappointment to the horse’s owner.
Sloan was altogether getting out of favour about now. At Ascot he
got himself mixed up with a waiter and a champagne bottle, resulting
in Lord William very kindly trying to pacify the piqued waiter. This
took some doing, but was eventually managed to the tune of several
hundreds, to save scandal and trouble. The Stewards enquired into the
matter and exonerated Sloan. In honesty to the jockey, I am pleased
to be able to state, when he found out what Lord William had done for
him, he insisted on the amount being deducted from his retaining fees.
Lord William was undoubtedly Sloan’s best friend, being exceedingly
generous and kind to him, but latterly he gave his mounts to Weldon,
the two Reiffs, and others, being disappointed with Sloan and fearing
he had got into the hands of those not likely to improve him, and
certainly about that time a number of desperate American gamblers
graced this country with their presence and heavy ready money
investments which put temptation into a jockey’s way. If a jockey
only bets on his own mount all may be well, but unfortunately they
get tempted sometimes to bet on others, while such a thing has been
heard of as a jockey squaring or thinking he has squared the rest of
his confrères in the race; and then failed.
The final blow came to Sloan over the Cambridgeshire of 1900, over
which there were many unpleasant stories afloat in connection with
his betting. It was a thousand pities, for he did so well when first
he came over to this country. Lord William was very pleased with his
riding, and many people had been most kind to him.
At one time, I think it must have been at Doncaster in 1899, the
Prince of Wales told Lord William he should like Sloan to ride for
him during the coming season, however, circumstances forbade this.
Codoman was the horse Sloan was riding in the Cambridgeshire when he
got into trouble over betting. Lord William again did all he could
for Sloan, but the Jockey Club were firm and advised Sloan not to
apply for a licence to ride during 1901. Of course he was acting
against the rules in betting and he knew it, but I do not think
Sloan was alone by any manner of means in this misdemeanour; again,
I say the pity of it, for he was a great master of his method in the
saddle; he always maintained his crouching seat over the horse’s neck
that had much to do with his success. Unfortunately he was a perfect
idiot where his own real interests were concerned. Here again he was
not alone, many of us are quite brilliant in looking after other
people’s affairs and yet make shocking hashes of our own.
It will, I think, have been clear to the readers all through these
chapters how very generous Lord William was to all who worked with or
for him; also indeed to many with absolutely no claim on his large
and kindly heart. Huggins, his trainer, was another recipient of his
open-handed generosity. At Newmarket he was a favourite amongst the
residents and Lord William had a great liking for him, but I doubt if
it is generally known that over and above other fees and charges Lord
William allowed him 10 per cent on _all stakes_ won. This would mean
a comfortable income if the stable was lucky. A glance at the value
of the stakes won between 1896 and 1900 will prove this.
_Year._ _No. of wins._ _Value._
1896 12 £5,186
1897 13 7,867
1898 16 8,029
1899 69 42,736½
1900 48 24,522
--- --------
TOTAL 158 £88,340½
In giving the above I am leaning heavily on the safe side, as there
were some wins of which I do not know the value, so cannot count them
in the total.
Lord William was still hoping to win the Derby, and believed at
last he was “going to do the trick” in 1901, for in 1900 he leased
from Lady Meux, a two year old horse named Volodyovski for his
racing career. For the comfort of my readers I may here state that
owing to the horse’s name being such a mouthful, and the difficulty
experienced by many in pronouncing it at all, he soon became known
as Voly, which will answer my purpose very well. This horse won five
races out of the last six he ran for Lord William, namely the Windsor
Castle Stakes, Rous Memorial at Goodwood, Newmarket Stud Produce
Stakes, Rous Memorial at Newmarket, other winners besides Caiman
being Jolly Tar and Jiffy II.
It will be remembered it was Diamond Jubilee that prevented Lord
William heading the list of winners in 1900, and Flying Fox in 1899.
But as the following shows it was a near thing.
1899, Duke of Westminster, 1st £43,965--Lord William 2nd £42,736½.
1900, Prince of Wales 1st £29,585--Lord William 2nd £24,585.
Race meetings of all sorts and kinds attracted Lord William, whether
running horses of his own or not; he was present at Liverpool when
the Prince of Wales won with Ambush II, and his own horse Easter Ogue
ran seventh. The scene outside the weighing-room door as His Royal
Highness awaited the return of his winning horse baffles description;
it was difficult to keep a clear space for Anthony to dismount; all
were so anxious to congratulate the Prince. One of the earliest to
express his pleasure and to congratulate him was the subject of these
memories, and it so happened that the camera man managed to squeeze
into the small space and photograph the King as he met the horse,
just as he left Lord William.
Always when flat racing was over Lord William turned his attention
to chasing, which he had liked from his earliest days. I remember
standing with him once in a crowd at a big “jump” meeting, and saying
to him, “I suppose you have always been too occupied to make a study
of the faces round you at one of these meetings?” He replied, “No
indeed, I have not been too occupied, but I do not like to look,
sometimes a race means so much to a man.” I remarked I thought a
certain friend standing near us, and owner of the favourite, was
looking rather pale and anxious, but he said, “Oh he’s all right, an
old hand at the game,” nevertheless when the favourite was over the
last fence I heard a big sigh and when the cheering began after the
horse had won by nearly a length the owner collapsed. I wonder what
would have happened if he had lost? Lord William told me afterwards
that if he had not won that race he would have been absolutely
ruined. The faces of a crowd on a racecourse, especially at a “jump”
meeting, is an interesting study and instructive.
It is painful to watch the restless hands and nervous twitchings of
those to whom it means “up” or “down.” Some of course go who delight
in a fair race when the horses are not ridden to death, that is to
say never again able to meet such a supreme moment; people who have
nothing of any consequence in any of the races, or who, like the late
James Lowther, seldom or never bet at all. Then again there are the
curiously constituted folk who flock round the most dangerous jumps,
presumably, to witness any accident that may occur; some people revel
in seeing accidents. One man I have known now for many years, has
never to my knowledge, been moved to mirth unless someone has hurt
themselves, then he indulges in a waistcoat contortion which answers
for laughter, his mouth spreads slowly across his face, but his eyes
take no part in his merriment.
Some of the accounts that appeared in the papers from time to
time relating to Lord William’s achievements were very funny. The
_Sporting Times_ some years ago referred to this in one of their
issues I am told, as follows: “Does Lord William Beresford read the
_Hornet_? Probably not, but if he does he must be surprised to find
that he is the third son of John, fourth Marquis of Waterloo. Why not
also first cousin of Viscount Vauxhall, and distantly related to the
Countess of Charing Cross?”
Lord William’s health about now was causing some anxiety, and he was
persuaded to try Homburg where he had been benefited several times
before, but on this occasion he came back looking worse than when he
went.
[Illustration: LORD WILLIAM AND LORD MARCUS BERESFORD]
The last time I saw his lordship at Homburg, the Prince of Wales, Sir
George Wombwell and Colonel Stanley Clarke were being greatly amused
at some of his jokes, and the stories he was telling against himself.
Shall we ever see his like again?
CHAPTER XVI
LAST YEARS
“1900 ... and Feels It”--Affection for the 9th Lancers--Help for
a Brother Mason--Those Who Loved Him--Friends, not Sight-Seers--A
Treasured Gift--Sale of Horses at Newmarket--Purchasers and
Prices--Fate of Democrat--Volodyovski Wins the Derby--Too
Late--Fierce Ownership Dispute--The Law Settles It--Broken Head of
a small Beresford
During most of 1900 Lord William suffered at intervals from his old
complaint contracted in India, namely dysentery, and it was taking
all his strength away; that he was feeling very sadly I know, and on
a photograph he was signing for a friend he wrote “W. B., 1900, ...
and feels it.”
At times he was observed sitting resting before dinner, a most
unusual thing for him to do. Unfortunately in December he ate some
game that was too high for his delicate state of health, this set
up peritonitis, and, in spite of the best advice and most tender
nursing, he passed away on the 28th December with a smile for those
around him, to the inexpressible grief of all who knew him well, and
the sincere regret of all who were lucky enough to have met him.
The specialist, Sir Thomas Lauder Brunton, came down from town
several times to see the invalid, and at one time there seemed to be
a ray of hope, only to be dashed to the ground again, for the poor,
gallant, brave heart for the first time in his life failed him and
refused to work any longer. His last race was run, and surely the
prize must be his for his many acts of charity not only in kind, but
goodness and mercy.
We all knew in his lifetime how generous he was, no begging letter
was ever left unanswered; none who begged, whether deserving or not,
received a harsh word from him; he was generous to a fault. He never
could resist anyone who said they had been in his old regiment the
9th Lancers, though I have grave doubts as to whether some of the
suppliants had ever been in the regiment at all. I know that some who
begged from him had a good deal of method in laying out their plan
of campaign, and waited until Mr. Palmer, who attended to business
matters, had gone home, before going to ask for Lord William, knowing
that if Mr. Palmer was there the case would be thoroughly enquired
into, while if they saw his lordship they knew they could work upon
his tender and kind heart. I have been told the following story is
true.
Lord William was a Mason, and a brother Mason wanted to see him, and
as he had a favour to ask waited until Mr. Palmer had gone home, and
in the evening begged to see Lord William who at once interviewed his
brother Mason, a tradesman, who told a long tale with a plentiful use
of pocket-handkerchief to his eyes; he came away with a cheque for
£1000.
Truly life is a book of many pages, not by any means easily read, and
it seems all wrong that such generosity should be imposed on, but
Lord William always said his sympathies were with all sinners, and he
liked to give everyone the benefit of a doubt.
It does not fall to the lot of everyone to be so sincerely mourned,
for his wife adored him, his child loved him, his brothers and
relations loved him, his servants worshipped him, the old people
round Waterford and Curraghmore, to whom it was a red-letter day when
Lord William paid them a visit, which he enjoyed as much as they did;
the old pensioners at the Royal Hospital, Dublin, who had many times
been made happy by a visit from him.
When the sad news became known, messages of sympathy and condolence
poured in from the highest in the land to some of the lowliest.
It was not until after his death, when his papers were being attended
to, that the extent of his goodness and charity was fully known.
I will not dwell on this sad time, for there is no language great
enough for the expression of our mental emotions, and no language
that can express the dignity of great grief.
Lord William was laid to rest in the family vault at Clonagam Church,
and the whole route from the boat to the Clonagam was wonderful;
every little child wanted to pay a last tribute to their friend, the
road was packed and lined with those who _cared_, not sightseers.
Among the four waggon loads of wreathes, crosses, and other
flower tokens of respect and affection, was one from his brother
Lord Charles, “In memory of lovable, chivalrous Bill, from his
broken-hearted brother, Charles.”
Everyone mourned for Lord William, even the cabmen in London, Dublin
and elsewhere. The newspapers were full of “Our Bill” and amongst the
many touching references to his death, I think the following is one
of the nicest.
LORD WILLIAM BERESFORD
_Born July 20th, 1847, died December 30th, 1900_
The old grey year is stricken down--and lying
(The days are dark, the trees stand gaunt and bare)
Stretches its hand and takes from us--while dying--
One whom we ill could spare.
Soldier and sportman, no fond hand could save you
From the old robber bearing you away,
England who once the cross for valour gave you,
Honours you with tears to-day.
What is the epitaph which shall be found him?
Let this story of his lost life tell,
All hearts that knew him to-day around him
Whisp’ring, “Kind friend, farewell.”
Erin, a vigil o’er her dead son keeping,
Now takes him softly, sadly to her breast,
Under her grassy mantle hides him sleeping,
And gives him his long rest.
BALLYHOOLEY.
_Sporting Times_, January 5th, 1901.
Ballyhooley was really the _nom-de-plume_ of Mr. Bob Martin, who
wrote the Irish humorous songs for the Gaiety and was a great man
on the staff of the _Sporting Times_. In one of the weekly papers
appeared the following:
“The regret of all for Lord William Beresford. A Bill that everyone
honoured, but alas none can meet.”
In another paper someone signing themselves “Roy” wrote:
A fearless soldier and a sportman bold,
Beloved by all; gallant to foe and friend,
Brave, true-hearted, as our knights of old,
A V.C. hero! noble to the end.
_December_, 1900.
I always thought it was illuminating the way, though Lord William
never met his wife’s mother, he felt it would be a pleasure to her,
and his duty to write regularly giving account of his wife and son’s
doings, and so forth; ending in a sincere attachment on both sides,
and his mother-in-law heaped beautiful and costly presents on him,
sent from America.
Speaking, or rather writing of presents reminds me that in a cabinet
where I keep my many treasures and presents collected during my
travels, there rests in one corner a much used and much mended
hunting crop bearing the inscription, “From Bill, Xmas 1889.” It
likewise has seen its last day’s hunting, for it is tender with age
and use, and too much valued to run any risks. I feel as if I could
write for weeks of all his kindness and loyal friendship, and then
not exhaust my memories of them. There is one more charming trait I
should like to mention, namely his great consideration and kindness
to his servants; when there had been a house full with many ladies’
maids and valets he always asked if they had had a good time, and his
orders were that all the servants should have everything they wanted,
nothing was too good for them. One who had served him said to me
once, “It is a pleasure to do anything for him; he is the kindest
master and friend any servant ever had.”
On January 23rd, 1901, Lord William’s horses were sold at Newmarket,
and it makes me sad to write of the break up of his stable; his
horses had been such a pleasure to him all his life and now they
were all to be scattered far and wide. Had he lived, many of them
would have changed hands at times, no doubt, in the ordinary course
of events, but he would have voiced the orders. Now even at the sale
there was a gloom, a sadness for the cheery voice that was gone. It
seems rather hard that we should be brought into this world without
our wishes being consulted, and hurried out of it without our wishes
being consulted, and as Emerson says, “We seem to be whipped through
the world hacks of invisible riders.”
My readers may be interested to know who bought the horses and the
prices they fetched, so I give the list. See pages 322-3.
Fifth on the list is good old Democrat, who still has quite a history
attached to him. Mr. Joel bought him for 910 guineas, and while his
property he ran his last race, at Kempton Park on May 11th, 1901,
ridden by Wood, but was not placed, after this he was kept in peace
and plenty until the autumn, when he again renewed his acquaintance
with Mr. Tattersall’s hammer on October 13th, then Mr. Marsh, the
trainer of the King’s horses, gave 290 guineas for him; chiefly I
fancy for old association’s sake; so the horse went to Egerton House
at Newmarket. One day the late Lord Kitchener was going round the
stable, and I think I am right in saying King Edward VII was there at
the time; when they came to Democrat Lord Kitchener remarked on his
good looks, and that he was the size and make for a man like himself
with long legs. “Yes, my lord,” said Mr. Marsh, “he would suit you to
take out to India as a charger if you will accept him as a gift.”
Lord Kitchener was not a great horseman at any time, and liked
something very quiet so that he need pay no attention to his mount
and devote it all to the business in hand; this he explained to Mr.
Marsh, asking if he thought the horse was quiet enough, and was
reassured by being told Mr. Marsh’s daughter used often to ride him
when exercising on the heath. A few days later when Lord Kitchener
was speaking to the Duke of Portland about Mr. Marsh’s generous gift,
and expressing doubts about a race-horse being a suitable charger,
his Grace suggested Democrat being sent to Welbeck to be tried there
in the riding school with a view to his usefulness as a charger. The
horse’s manners were found to require very little polishing, so to
India he went, becoming a great favourite with his master. An unusual
end to a race-horse’s career, but a very happy and a most useful
one. When Mr. Marsh bought him he was no longer considered any use
for racing, no use for the stud to which so many race-horses go,
and I am not quite sure he was not just a wee bit gone in the wind.
However, this great winner of races after landing £12,939 in stakes
became Lord Kitchener’s favourite charger, and was ridden by him at
the Delhi Durbar and Coronation Procession of King Edward. Democrat
bore himself very proudly in India, winning several prizes at the
Indian Horse Shows. Lord Kitchener’s and Democrat’s name will go
down to history together, for in Calcutta there now stands a statue
of them sent out from England in 1913. A good and honourable man on
a good and honourable horse. I have been told that Democrat died in
India shortly before Lord Kitchener left the country.
HORSES IN TRAINING
_Name._ _Sire._ _Dam._ _Purchaser._ _Guineas._
Berzack, U.S.A. Sensation Belphœbe Lord Kesteven 320
Billow II, Atlantic Tickle Mr. D. Cooper 380
Australian
Caiman, U.S.A. Locochatchee Happy Day Mr. Marsh for 2,500
Lord Wolverton
Jolly Tar, U.S.A. Sailor Prince Joy Mr. W. M. G. 2,200
Singer
Democrat, U.S.A. Sensation Equality Mr. J. B. Joel 910
Old Buck II, U.S.A. Sensation Magnetic Mr. R. Croker 300
THREE YEAR OLDS
Brelogue, U.S.A. Favordale Bibelot Mr. R. Croker 320
Zip, U.S.A. Owas Telic Doe Mr. R. Gore 310
Nahlband Wolf’s Crag Under the Mr. E. Dresden 1,500
Rose
Bronzewing, U.S.A. Goldfinch Reclare Mr. J. Hare 320
Alien, U.S.A. Henry of Kate Allen Mr. J. B. Joel 1,300
Navarre
Teuton, U.S.A. Hanover Bessy Mr. R. Gore 210
Hinckley
Yellow Bird, U.S.A. Goldfinch Miss Modred Lord Carnarvon 210
Yap, U.S.A. Dandy Dinmont Lizzie Mr. S. B. Joel 410
Choctaw, U.S.A. Onondaga Henrietta Mr. J. Widger 210
Moorspate, U.S.A. Candlemas Belle B. Mr. E. Dresden 860
Sweet Dixie, U.S.A. Sir Dixie Brenda Mr. R. Croker 200
Fore Top, U.S.A. Top Gallant Flavia Mr. W. Lewison 45
TWO YEAR OLDS
The Buck Buckingham Compromise Lord Carnarvon 300
Loveite St. Fruoquin Orle Mr. G. Faber 1,050
Charles Lever, The Bard Equiporse Mr. R. Croker 100
U.S.A.
Vendale, U.S.A. The Bard Water Lily Mr. R. Croker 160
Albanian, U.S.A. The Bard Loot Mr. R. Croker 90
Bay Filly, U.S.A. The Bard Roulette Mr. W. Smith 175
Ouilla, U.S.A. The Bard Foxtail Mr. G. Farrar 115
Drooping Martagon Penserose Capt. 55
Featherstonhaugh
BROOD MARES, ETC.
Manister Diakka Tacitus Mr. J. A. McNeal 20
Brown Yearling Worcester Manister H. Von Grundherr 7
Famish Wolf Crag Cearalin Mr. G. Pritchard 20
King Cophetua, Florizel II Cerealia J. D. Wordell 310
Yearling Colt
Ch. Yearling Filly Amphion Philatelist Mr. H. King 12
STEEPLECHASE HORSES IN TRAINING
Lord Arrovale Tacitus Lady Arrovale Mr. Russel Monroe 380
Servias St. Serf Ayesha Ayagile H. Escott 80
Uncle Jack Ascetic Mayo Mr. Joel 3,000
Harvesting Barkizan Harvest Moon H. Escott 175
Brandon Carlton Miss Prim Mr. J. R. Eastwood 300
Orange River Hackler Capri Mr. G. Parrott 150
Patrick’s Ball Workington Duty Dance Lord Rothschild 310
Waltager Saraband Alice Mr. G. Parrott 25
Brown Study Tacitus Brown Beauty Major E. Loder 100
Grand Total £19,439
At King George’s coronation, Lord Kitchener rode another great
race-horse Moifaa, the Liverpool winner in 1904, while the property
of Mr. Spencer Gollan. The horse was afterwards sold to King Edward.
When Derby time came round again in 1901, Volodyovski fulfilled Lord
William’s hopes and predictions, though, alas, not in his name, for
the rules of racing are that death cancels the lease of a horse,
therefore the luck of that Derby fell to Mr. W. C. Whitney, and I do
not think there was a soul on that racecourse, including Mr. Whitney
himself, who did not wish Lord William had been there, and the win
his.
Some few weeks after Lord William’s death there was a good deal of
discussion and some heated arguments between Lady William and Lady
Meux as to the ownership of the horse, Lady William maintaining
it was her late husband’s horse and therefore now hers; Lady Meux
declared it was hers, and the Jockey Club were at last asked to
decide; they adopted the usual course of leaving the disputants
to have it settled by the law of the land. It came for hearing,
fortunately, before that fine old sporting Judge Grantham, I say
fortunately because he was perhaps in a position to give confidence
to both parties in his judgment, owing to his racing knowledge and
experience. He gave it as his opinion Lord William’s death cancelled
the lease of the horse.
Lady Meux had bred Voly, being the only woman who has ever bred a
Derby winner, and she was so excited at his winning that the moment
he passed the winning-post she was out of her grand-stand box and
claimed the right not usual to ladies of entering the weighing-in
enclosure, and she then followed “Zee pet,” as she called him,
down the course, through the crowd to the saddling paddock a good
quarter of a mile away and then untied the little bit of blue and
brown ribbon mixed up in the horse’s headgear, which he had carried
throughout the race. While patting and caressing the horse she
excitedly exclaimed, “It is my horse and I want the ribbons for my
museum,” which I have not seen, but have been told it is a very
entertaining place full of a variety of interesting things, now in
the possession of Admiral Sir Hedworth Meux, well known as Ladysmith
Lambton.
Mr. Whitney’s colours were similar to Lord William’s, being the same
light blue jacket, but with a brown cap, which when at some distance
looked very like Lord William’s black.
It may be wondered why in the course of these memories I have made
no mention of Lord Delaval, the youngest Beresford brother; it is
because he decided to seek fortune abroad and settled down in Mexico;
the reason for this exodus being to win the object of his affection
for his bride, which rested on whether he fulfilled his promise
to make a fortune first. It is tragic that when nearing the point
that he could return with his promise fulfilled, he was killed in a
railway accident in the United States on December 26th, 1906.
With the usual Beresford spirit he had thrown his whole attention
and energy into his work, and when he died owned 196,000 acres with
nine miles of irrigation canals and several large reservoirs, having
quickly grasped that what caused failure so often on ranches was want
of water, without plenty of which cattle cannot thrive.
Lord William’s eldest brother died in 1895 at the early age of
fifty-one; he had been ill a long time, the result of a hunting
accident. Lord Bill felt his death very much. Out of these devoted
brothers only two are left now, Lord Beresford and Lord Marcus.
Reluctantly I lay down my pen, it has been a pleasure writing of our
dear friend, and living through some of the old times again.
I like to remember my earliest experience in First Aid was in
patching up the head of a Beresford, a kinsman of Lord William’s and
mine, though at the time he was a very small boy aged about eight
years. A dear chubby-faced lad whose people lived at Bedale, not
far from my old home in Yorkshire. Little Walter Beresford and his
brother Henry, grandchildren of Admiral Sir John Beresford on their
father’s side and Lord Denman on their mother’s, came to play with my
young brother, and Walter took the opportunity to fall from top to
bottom of the cellar stone stairs while playing hide and seek, though
they were on forbidden ground. I was very proud of my work when I had
done patching up the poor little head, and remember how plucky the
lad was, but then he was a Beresford and what is born in the bread
comes out in the butter. I fear this is not a correct quotation, but
will do quite nicely.
Lady William only survived her husband a few years.
_Requiescat in pace._
INDEX
Abbott, Mr., 94, 186, 266;
his unlucky horse, 224
Afghan Chief, The, 179
Agnew, Capt. Q., 266
Agnew, Mr. H. de C., 266
Agra Stable, The, 256
Alexander, Mr. R., 266
Ali Musjid Citadel, Storming of, 73
Allahabad, The thrice run race, 94
Allason, Major, 266
Allan, Mr. J. J., 266, 277
Althorp, Capt. K., 267
Amir of Afghanistan, 178, 179
Annandale, 54
Anderson, Mr. A. S., 266
Anderson, Mr. G. G., 266
Apcar, Mr. J. G., 252, 264, 267
Appleyard, General, 73
Apostolides, Mr. E. C., 267
Arbuthnot, Mr. J., 267
Archer, Fred, 163, 300
Ardagh, Col. J. C., C.I.E., 267
Arthur, Mr. A., 267
_Asian, The_, 57
Astley, Sir J., 163
Australian horses stampede, 160
Baden-Powell, Lieut.-Gen. Sir R., 143
Badger, The pet, 26
Baker, Colonel Valentine (afterwards Baker Pasha), 29
Barclay, Mr. P. D., 267
Barrington, The Hon. (afterwards Sir) Eric, 8;
his story of the Tyrol accident, 9
Barlow, Mr. R., 267
Barnes, Mr. F. C., 267
Bates, Mr. R. G., 267
Beaconsfield, Lord, 96
Beasley, Capt. (“Tommy”), 14
Beaver, Col. P. K. L., 267
Bengal Tenancy Act, 177
Beresford, Lady Charles, 154, 156
Beresford, Lord Charles, 303;
meets Lord William at Curraghmore, 18, 19;
the “Brothers’ Race,” 42, 48
Beresford, Sir John, 326
Beresford, Lord Marcus, 234, 254, 285, 293, 302, 303;
meets Lord William at Curraghmore, 18;
Lord Marcus and the “Brothers’ Race,” 42;
Lord William, and the hall porter, 29
Beresford, Lord and Lady Marcus, 292
Beresford, Lady William (formerly Duchess of Marlborough),
marriage, 285;
disputes with Lady Meux, 324;
death of Lady William, 327
Beresford, Lord William--
accidents to, 20, 81, 110, 147, 164, 187, 259, 290, 295;
an accomplished whip, 216;
active service, 70, 72, 80;
Annandale racecourse bought, 209;
anthrax at his stables, 248;
A.D.C. to Lord Northbrook, 51;
bad luck, 165;
farewell banquet at Calcutta, 266;
bull, 4;
at Bombay meets Lord Charles Beresford, 48;
at Bonn, 8;
a bribe, 221;
the “Brothers’ Race,” 42;
meets his brother again at Curraghmore, 18;
on Sir Redvers Buller’s Staff, 79;
bungalow nearer Viceregal Lodge, 143;
buys Myall King, 226;
a cab incident, 145;
Calcutta paper-chase, 259;
the Cambridgeshire, 302;
on castes of India, 107;
child and the gymkhana, the, 241;
calling with Mr. Charles Lascelles, 49;
and children, 144, 145;
children’s farewell party, 261;
and the children of Dorking, 287;
Cigar Race, The, 147;
a coaching adventure, 291;
commands irregular volunteer cavalry, 82;
a complaint, 225;
congratulated by the Prince of Wales, 90;
conjurer, discomfiture of, 238;
convalescence, 296;
“the courteous,” 126;
at Dr. Renau’s school, 4;
death, 317;
at the Amateur Dramatic Club, 119;
Dramatic Club, the Amateur, re-established, 118;
dines with his mother and the Prince of Wales, 92;
despatch carrying, 73;
disappears “en route,” 140;
and the dissatisfied subaltern, 239;
at Dorking, 283;
drives coach down barrack steps, 24;
Lady Dufferin’s scheme, 211;
at Durban, 80;
battles at Durban, 80;
at the Durbar, 61, 181;
faints at the Durbar, 61;
Durbar souvenirs, 183;
and the economical colonel, 208;
engaged to be married, 284;
at Eton, 4;
and Fleur-de-Lys, 136;
gazetted Colonel and K.C.I.E., 249;
Gloucester House mystery, 191;
guests at Calcutta banquet, 266;
the hall porter and the refrigerator, 29;
and the Hill and Frontier tribes, 69;
homesick, 198;
horse-training for the Durbar, 219
inherits his money, 21;
invents the umbrella race, 148;
invents the Victoria Cross race, 147;
joins the 9th Lancers, 12;
last race in India, 282;
leaves England, 46;
loses a bet, and how he paid, 109;
Lord Rossmore and the intruder, 39;
and the Maitland-Beresford case, 93;
the man who thought he was King, 197;
marriage, 284;
as a Mason, 316;
match with Rothschild, 164;
methods, 220;
his memory, 218;
Military Secretary to three successive Viceroys, 123, 127, 129;
mistaken identity, 161, 233;
Mr. Moore’s speech at Calcutta banquet, 269;
and his mother-in-law, 319;
and the natives, 150;
paperchasing, 244;
parlour fireworks, 190;
a polo accident, 63;
and Ponto, 141;
and Ponto at the wedding, 142;
and the pony, 139;
a quiet corner, 118;
races with Captain McCalmont, 20;
the racing man, 168;
racing receipts, 311;
his racing reputation, 227;
racing rumours, 260;
racing troubles and worries, 166;
racing, 68, 201, 257, 293, 304, 308;
racing partners--
Mr. Lorillard, his new partner, 294;
Durbangah, Maharajah of, 235;
Maharajah of Patiala, 251;
Mr. Monty Stewart, 132;
Mr. Whitney, a new partner, 300;
receives the V.C. from Queen Victoria, 90;
recommended for the V.C., 87;
regimental trophies, 286;
religion, 206;
relies on Mr. Palmer, 297;
rescues Mrs. Stuart Menzies, 148;
returns to India, 71, 88, 92;
returns to Ireland, 91;
“rules for the A.D.C.,” 229;
and the runaway carriage, 35;
and the runaway coach, 216;
saves the life of Dr. Perry, 10;
sells his stables, 187;
a serious accident, 295;
shares a bungalow with Captain Clayton, 48;
and soldier’s wife, 193;
some fast trotters, 291;
a son born, 298;
speech at Calcutta banquet, reply to, 275;
spelling, 6;
State functions, 169;
his tact, 113;
the Tattersall’s sale, 320;
the £1000 card, 21;
his three-year-old record, 306;
and Tod Sloan, 299;
on tour, 170;
his two-year-old records, 305;
a useful clerk, 221;
and viceregal tour programme, 184;
a war trophy, 85;
a well-liked man, 130;
what the _Hornet_ said, 313;
wins the name “Fighting Bill,” 79;
wins the V.C., 86;
with Sir Sam Browne, V.C., 72;
wrestles with Joseph Leeman, 40;
at York, 39;
Beresford, Mr. W. M., 267
Beverley, the Hon. Mr. Justice, C.S., 267
Bignell, Mr. R., 267
Bombay, Government House dinner party, 206
Botanical Gardens, Calcutta, 216
Boteler, Mr. R., 267
Bourdillon, the Hon. J. A., C.S., 267
Bourke, Mr., 240
Brabazon, Capt., 289
Brackenbury, the Hon. Lieut.-General H., C.B., 267
Bradshaw, Surgeon-Major-General, 267
Brasier-Creagh, Capt., A.D.C., 267
Brassey, the Right Hon. the Lord, 267
Brock, Mr. C., 267
Brooke, Mr. W. R., C.I.E., 267
“Brothers’ Race,” The, 42
Browne, Lord Ulick, 57
Browne, Sir Sam, V.C., 72
Brunton, Sir Thomas Lauder, 315
Buck, Sir E., C.I.E., 267
Buckland, Mr. C. E., C.S., 267
Bulkeley, Capt. Rivers, rides the Prince of Wales’ horse, 34
Butler, Mr. A. L., 267
Burn, Capt., 232
Burmah Crisis, The, 203
Bythell, Capt., 267
Cahir, 14
Calcutta race meeting, 165, 242, 253
Calcutta Sweepstake, 254
Calcutta Tent Club, 159
Cambridge, Duke of, 285
Campbell, Capt. the Rt. Hon. Ronald, The death of, 81
Campbell, Capt. I. M., D.S.O., 267
Campbell, General D. M. G., 36
Campbell, Mr. Alec, 267
Campbell, Mr. H. P., 267
Candy, Captain (“Sugar Candy”), 11;
horse jumps down a quarry, 25
Canning, Lady, 76
Canning, Viscount, 76
Cannon, Mornington, 301
Carrington, Lord, 35
Cavagnari, Sir Louis, 71
Cawnpore, The statue, 77;
the well, 76
Cetewayo, 78;
advances, 85;
retreats, 84;
taken prisoner, 79
Chaine, Col., 292
Chatterton, Col. F. W., 267
Chelmsford, Lord, 78, 81;
takes Cetewayo prisoner, 79
Chesney, Colonel, afterwards General Sir George, 116, 151
Cheylesmore, Lord, 5
Children’s parties at Simla, The, 143
Chisholme, Major J. J. Scott, 267
Christopher, Major, 267
China interposes, 204
Cigar Race, 147
Clarke, Colonel Stanley, 314
Clayton, Captain, 11;
the death of, 60;
Harrow and Capt. Clayton’s death, 64;
“In memoriam,” 63
Cleland, Colonel, wounded, 71
Clewer Sisters, The, 212
Clonagam Church, 317
Clonmell, Lord, 35
Collen, Major-General Sir E. H. H., K.C., I.E., 267
Colley, Colonel, afterwards Sir George, 52
Commander-in-Chief and the salutations, 215
Compton, Lord Alwyne, 156
Connaught, Duchess of, 155
Connaught, Duke of, 154
Connemara, Lord, 240
Cooking reform, 210
Cork, Earl of, 35
Cotton, the Hon. H. J. S., C.S.I., 267
Cotton, Mr. Ben, 216
Creagh, Mr. B. P., 267
Crespigny, Sir Claude de, 307
Croft, the Hon. Sir A., K.C.I.E., 267
Cubitt, Mr. J. E., 267
Cumberledge, Mr. F. H., 267
Cuningham, Mr. W. J., C.S.I., 267
Cunningham, Surgeon-Lieut.-Col. D. D., 267
Currie, Capt. J., 267
Curzon, the Hon. Major M., 267
Curraghmore, 2
Cuthbert, Mr., 300
Dacca steamer incident, The, 77
Dalhousie, Lord, 76
Dangerfield, Mr. E., 267
Daniel, Mr. Linsay, 267
Davidson, Captain, 51
Dehra Races, The, 92
Delavel, Lord, 325
Devonshire, Duke of (then Lord Hartington), 163
Dickson, Mr. Geo., 267
Dickson, Mr. J. G., 267
Drawing-room reception, 144
Denman, Lord, 326
Dogcart mishap, The, 20
Dods, Mr. W., 267
Donkey, The, and the cock, 41
Doran, Major B. J. C., 267
Dufferin, Lady, 177;
her scheme to help Indian women, 210
Dufferin, Earl of, 177, 203, 272
Dunn, the jockey, 243;
in trouble again, 248
Durand, Mr., afterwards Sir Mortimer, 183, 234
Durand, Colonel, 278
Durbangah, Maharajah of, 162, 230;
becomes Lord W. Beresford’s racing partner, 235
Durbar, The, a huge crowd, 223
Eddis, Mr. W. K., 267
Egerton, Sir Robert, 99
Ellis, Col. S. R., 267
Enter, Mr. K., 267
Evans, the Hon. Sir Griffith, K.C.I.E., 267
Evening, A festive, 200
Ezra, Mr. J. E. D., 267
Famine, The Irish, 17
Fancy dress ball, 157
Fane, Sir Spencer Ponsonby, 149
Farewell Banquet, Calcutta, The, 266;
names of those present at, 266-9;
Mr. Moore’s speech at, 269;
Lord Bill replies, 275
Fenian, Lord W. B.’s horse, 30
Fenians’ threat to Lady Waterford, 17
Fenn, Surgeon-Col. E. H., C.I.E., 267
Fife, Captain, 19
Fitch, Mr., 236
Fitzgerald, Lord, 35
Fitzmaurice, 85
FitzWilliam, Hon. P. W., 34
Forbes, Mr. Archibald, 87
Ford Abbey, 76
Fordham, jockey, 163
Fownes, Mr., 292
Frere, Sir Bartle, 78
Fripps, Mr., 81
Furniss, Mr., 302
Galbraith, Major-General W., C.B., 267
Gambrie, Col. G. R., 267
Gamble, Mr. R. A., 267
Game card of Lord de Grey, 154
Garraway, Capt. C. W., 267
Garth, Mr. G. L., 267
Garth, Mr. W., 267
Gasper, Mr., 202, 224;
death of, 249
Gladstone, Mr. A. S., 267
Gladstone, Mr. J. S., 267
Gladstone, Mr., 95
Godjack, Mr., 162
Gollan, Mr. Spencer, 324
Gooch, Rev. Francis, 303
Gordon, Capt., appointed Lord Ripon’s Private Secretary, 67
Gordons, The Scotch, 303
Gough, Capt. C. H. H., 267
Gough, Mr. G., 267
Grain, Corney, 199
Grantham, Mr. Justice, 324
Granville, Lord, 95
Gregory, Mr. E. H., 267
Gregson, Mr. C. B., 267
Grimston, Capt. R. E., A.D.C., 267
Hadden, Mr. F. G., 268
Hamilton, Mr. F. S., C.S., 268
Hamilton, Mr. L. B., 268
Hammersley, Mr. Louis, 284
Hammersley, Mrs. See Lady William Beresford
Harbord, the Hon. Charles, afterwards Lord Suffield, 156, 183, 232, 268
Harrington, Lord, 95
Harrow School and the death of Captain Clayton, 64
Hart, Mr. G. H. R., 188, 268
Hartington, Lord. See Duke of Devonshire
Hartopp, Captain (Chicken), and the bath, 91
Harvey, Surgeon-Col. R., 268
Hastings, Lord, 29
Hay of Kinfauns, Lord, 199
Hayes, Mr. Horace, 92
Henderson, Mr. G. S., 268
Hensman, Mr. H., 268
Herat, 178
Herbert, Capt. L., 268
Herbert, Mr., 31
Hewett, Mr. J. P., C.S., C.I.E., 268
Hext, Capt. J., R.N., C.I.E., 268
Hext, Sir John (now Rear-Admiral), 216, 235, 247
Hills, Mr. A., 159, 268, 279
Hills, Mr. C. R., 268
Hodgson, Mr. G. C., 268
Holmes, Mr. W., C.S., 92, 268
_Hornet, The_, 313
Hope, Mr. G. W., 268
Horse Sale, The, 187
Howrah Bridge, 217
Huggins, Mr. (Lord William’s trainer), 300, 305, 310
Hunt, Col. J. L., 268
Huxley, Mr., 246
Ilbert Bill, 123
Indian descent, 109
_Indian Planters’ Gazette_, 263
Indian Viceroy’s duties, An, 66
Irving, Mr. W. O. Bell, 268
Isandhlwana, Battle of, 78
James, Mr. S. Harvey, C.S., 268
Jardine, Sir William, Bart., 268
Jarrett, Col. H. S., 268
Jenkins, Capt. A. E., 268
Jersey, Lord, 7
Jhind, The Rajah of, 101
Jockey Club, 293, 324
Jodhpore, Maharajah of, 162
Johnstone, Mr. C. Lawrie, 268
Jourdain, Mr. C. B., 268
Jowaki Expedition, The, 69
Kabul, 71
Kempton, 308
Kennedy, H. E., Rear-Admiral George, 268
Keyes, General, sent with reinforcements against hill tribes, 69
Khyber Pass Retreat, The, 71
King, Brigade-Surgeon-Lieut.-Col. G., C.I.E., 268
King, Mr. D. W., 268
King-Harman, Col., 27
Kirk, Mr. H. A., 268
Kitchener, Earl, 320
Kooch Behar, H.H. the Maharajah of, G.C.I.E., 171, 258, 265, 268
Ladies’ Steeplechase, 141
Lady’s curtsey, A, 116
Lambert, the Hon. Sir John, K.C.I.E., 268
Lambton, Mr. George, 300
Lance, Brigadier-General F., C.B., 268
Langford, Lord, 5
Lansdowne, Marchioness, 262
Lansdowne, Marquess of, 234, 238, 247, 272
Lascelles, The Hon. Charles, 11
Latimer, Mr. F. W., 268
Lawley, Hon. Miss, 156
Lawrence, Lord, 53, 97, 240
Leeman, M.P., Mr. Joseph, the wrestling match, 40
Legislative Council pass the Ilbert Bill, 123
Leigh, Sir Gerrard, 13
Lendal Bridge, 39, 40
Leslie, Mr. C. P., 1
Lethbridge, Brigade-Surgeon-Lieut.-Col., 268
Life in India, 158
Lister, Capt. G. C., A.D.C., 268
Lockhart, Sir Simon, 5
Lorillard, Mr. Pierre, becomes Lord William’s racing partner, 294
Louisa, daughter of Lord Stuart de Rothsey, 15
Lowther, Mr. James, 199, 313
Lucknow, 255
Ludlow, Col., 268
Lumsden, Mr. D. M., 268
Luson, Mr. H., 268
Lyall, Mr. A. A., 268
Lyall, the Hon. Mr. D. R., C.S.I., C.S., 268
Lyall, Mr. R. A., 268
Lytton, Lady, 52
Lytton, Earl, 272;
appointed Viceroy, 52;
appoints a Famine Commission, 68;
dissatisfies Government with his Afghan policy, 96;
his departure, 104;
investigates the Indian Famine, 67;
reviews the troops, 62;
sends troops against Hill tribes, 69
McCalmont, General Sir Hugh (“The Smiler”), 7, 11
McDonnell, the Hon. W. F., 57
Macdougall, Captain, 232
Machell, Captain, 33
McInnes, Mr. H. H., 268
Mackellor, Mr. G. B., 268
Mackensie, Mr. D. F., 268
Mackenzie, Colonel Stewart, 11;
takes command, 71
McLeod, Mr. C. C., 268
Macleod, Mr. J. J., 268
Macnair, Mr. G. B., 268
Macpherson, the Hon. Justice W., C.S., 268
Maitland, Col., 268
Maitland, Mr. Kelly, 92
Maitland _v._ Beresford case, 93
Man who thought he was King, The, 197
Marlborough, 8th Duke of, 284
Marlborough, Lily, Duchess of, meets Lord W. B., 283;
is married to Lord Bill, 284
Marsh, Mr., 320
May-Boy’s serious accident, 17
Mayo, Lord, 240
Meerut Race Meeting, 214
Mehta, Mr. R. D., 268
Methuen, Lord, 4
Meux, Admiral Sir Hedworth, 325
Meux, Lady, 311, 324
Meyrick, Mr., 58
Middleton, Capt. Bay, 13
Miley, Col. J. A., 268
Military Secretary’s duties, 124;
pay, 129
Military Secretaries and their excuses for resignation, 135
Miller, Mr., 95
Mills, Mr. G., 268
Milton, Lord, A.D.C., 268
Minto, The present Lord, 7
Mistaken identity, 161
Moore, Mr. C. H., 7, 244, 268
Moore, Mr. Garret, 12
Muir, Capt. Charles, 80, 244
Muir, Mr. A. K., 268
Muir, Sir John, Bart., 268
Myall King, Death of, 262;
Record of, 264
Myers, Mr. Dudley B., 268
Nabha, Rajah of, 238
National Hunt Committee, 293
New Year’s Day Festivals, 222
Newcastle, Duke of, 286
Nicknames, 11
Ninth Lancers on active service, 71
Northbrook, Lord, 51, 272
Norman, Mr. A. F., 268
Norris, the Hon. Justice, Q.C., 268
Observation Hill, 97
_Oriental Sporting Magazine_, 57
O’Toole, Sergeant, rescues in time, 86;
is awarded V.C., 91
Overend, Mr. T. B. G., 268
Owen, Capt. “Roddy,” 12, 121, 231
Paget, Lord Alfred, and the Bonnets, 28
Paget, Mr. H. E. C., 268
Palmer, Mr., 288, 295, 297
Paperchases, 137
Papillon, Capt. David, 138
Paris, Mr. G. B., 268
Parliament dissolved, 95
Parlour fireworks, 191
Patiala, Maharajah of, 280;
forms racing partnership with Lord William, 251
Pattison, Mr. F. E., 268
Patrie, Mr. J. M., 268
Paul, Col. St., 268
Paying calls in India, 50
Peacock, Mr. F. B., 268
Perinan, Mr. F. W., 268
Perry, Dr., gives supper night before holidays, 9;
his letters to Lord W. B.’s mother, Lady Waterford, 9
Peterhoff, the Viceregal house at Simla, 54
Peterson, Mr. C. D., 268
Pincus, Mr. Jakes (trainer), 300
Playfair, the Hon. Mr. P., 268
Poer, Charles William de la, 1
Poer, Delaval James de la, 1
Poer, John Henry de la, 1
Poer, Marcus Talbot de la, 1
Poer, William Leslie de la, 1
Poer, William Warren de la, son of Lord W. B., 298
Pollen, Capt. S. H., A.D.C., 268
Polo, The Christmas Day Match and its tragic sequel, 60;
at Hurlingham, 44
Ponies, The sale of the, 38
Portal, Mr. Gerry, 192, 199
Portland, Duke of, 321
Potato Incident, The, 14
Prickett, Mr. L. G., 269
Primrose, Mr. (now Right Hon. Sir Henry Primrose), 156
Prinsep, the Hon. Mr. Justice H. T., C.S., 269
Pritchard, the Hon. Sir C., K.C.I.E., C.S.I., 269
Probyn, Colonel Oliver, 138
Race after the Amateur Dramatic Club Play, The, 120
Rajah’s bow to Lord Ripon, The, 102
Raleigh Club, 27;
the new Raleigh, 1916, 30
Ralli, Mr. John A., 161, 269
Ralli, Mr. T. D., 269
Rawal Pindi, 179;
the Durbar at, 179
Rawlinson, Mr. A. T., 269
Raye, Brigade-Surgeon D., 269
Religions of India, 56
Ripon, The Marquess of (then Lord de Grey), 96, 134, 154, 272;
arrives at Peterhoff, 99;
converses with Lord Lytton, 100;
has a trying time, 123;
leaves India, 172;
receives friends, 153;
a Roman Catholic, 110
“Ripon’s Good Night,” Lord, 172
Roberts, Major Ben, 57, 162
Roberts, Earl, 71, 205, 240
Rochfort, Capt. (now Sir Alex. Rochfort), 156
Rodocanachi, Mr. J., 269
Rosebery, Earl of, 35
Rossmore, Lord, 7
Ross, Mr., and why he called last, 51
Ross, Mr. R. M., 269
Rothschild, Mr. Leopold de, 163
Rustornjee, Mr. H. M., 269
Ryder, trainer and jockey, 133, 186;
his accident, 187
Sanders, Surgeon-Major R. C., 269
Saunders, Mr. J. O’B., 269
Schiller, Mr. F. C., 269
Shakespeare, Mr. F., 269
St. Quinten, Major, 34, 156
Shaw, Colonel, of the London Fire Brigade, 29
Shepstone, Sir Theophilus, 78
Silk stockings, The, 117
Simson, Mr. A., 269
Simson, Mr. A. F., 269
Singh, Sirdar Preetum, 250
Sipi, The Fair, 149
Sloan, Tod (James Forman), is engaged by Lord W. B., 299;
in trouble, 301, 304, 308, 310
Smith-Dorrien, Mr., 34
_Sporting Times, The_, 318
Stampede at the Viceregal Procession, 103
Stedman, General E., C.B., 269
Steel, Mr. Robert, 269
Stewart, General Sir Donald, 118, 179
Stewart, Mr. F. G., 269
Stewart, Mr. C. D., 269
Stewart, Mr. J. L., 269
Stewart, Mr. J. R., 269
Stewart, Mr. Monty, forms racing partnership with Lord W. B., 132;
death of, 162
Stuart-Menzies, Mrs., a riding adventure, 149;
a souvenir, 319
Stuart, Mr. Harry, 269
Suffield, Lord. See Capt. Harbord
Superstition, 237
Table of W. B.’s horses sold, 322
Targett, Mr. W. H., 57, 269
Tattersall’s sale, 44, 320
Taylor, Capt. Clough, 137, 156
Taylor, Lady Elizabeth Clough, 156
Temple, Mr. G., 269
Thebaw, King, 203
Thomas, Mr. J. P., 269
Thomas, Mr. L. R., 269
Thomas, Mr. R. E. S., 269
Thomas, Mr. W. L., 269
Thompson, Colonel Meysey, 13
Thuillier, Colonel H. R., 269
Thunderstorm at Pindi, 181
Tingey, T., 68
Tollygunge meeting, 244
Toomay, Mr. J. A., 269
“Tower of Silence,” Bombay, 107
Trail, Mr. T., 269
Tremearne, Mr. Shirley, 269
Turf Club, Calcutta, The, 242
Turf Club of Ireland, 293
Turnbull, Mr. R., C.I.E., 269
Turner, Capt. J. G., 269
Ulundi, King’s kraal, 83;
Battle of, 79
Umballa racing accident, 137
Umbrella race, 148
Umvaloosi, Valley of, 83
Upton, Mr. R. L., 269
Valentia, Lord, 34
Viceregal House, The new, 209
Viceregal tour programme, 184
Viceroy’s Cup, The, 59
Viceroy’s duties, A, 105
Victoria, Queen, confers V.C. on Lord William, 90
Victoria Club Banquet, 58
Victoria Cross Race, 147
Vinall (jockey), 249, 265
Vincent, Mr. Claude, 269
Voeux, Captain Des, 121
Wales, Prince of, The (afterwards King Edward VII), 33, 34, 51, 91,
163, 271, 289, 314, 321
Walker, Major-General A., 269
Wallace, Sir Donald Mackenzie, 178
Waller, Mr. R. R., 269
Ward, Mr. G., 269
Warre, Dr., 5
Warre-Cornish, Dr., Vice-Provost of Eton, 5
Waterford, Lady Blanche, 297
Waterford, John Henry, Fourth Marquis, 1
Waterford’s, Lady Louisa, accident, 16
Waterford, The third Marquis and the flogging block, 7;
“The Mad Marquis,” 15
Waterfords, The, 303
Watts, Mr., 76
Webb, Captain, 162
Weekes (a jockey), 248
Weeks, Teddy, 133
Well at Cawnpore, 76
Wenlock, Lady, 154, 156
Wenlock, Lord, 154
West, Mr. J. D., 269
Western Indian Turf Club, The, 261
Westmorland, Lord, 35
Westmorland, Lady, 35
Wheal, Mr. John, 186
Wheler Club, The, 93
White, Major (afterwards Sir George White, V.C.), 124, 240
Whitney, Mr. W. C., becomes Lord William’s racing partner, 300
Wilkins, Mr. C. A., C.S., 269
Williams, Colonel and Mrs. Owen, 35
Williams, Capt. G. A., 269
Willson, Mr. (trainer), 248, 289
Wilson, Lady Sarah, 283
Wombwell, Sir George, 35, 314
Women of India, The, 150
Wood, Captain, 34, 225
Wood, Sir Evelyn, his fighting force, 82
Woods, Mr., 34
Woolmer, Captain, 258
Yorke, The Hon. Alec, 8
Yorke, Hon. Elliot, 8
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
the text and consultation of external sources.
Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text,
and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained; for example,
collar-bone, collarbone; body-guard, bodyguard; race-horse,
racehorse; affirmatory; undauntable; hebetude; horsy; tiffin.
Pg ix: ‘Sporting Contempories’ replaced by ‘Sporting Contemporaries’.
Pg 10: ‘near Beresford’ replaced by ‘nearby, Beresford’.
Pg 60: ‘up unconcious’ replaced by ‘up unconscious’.
Pg 99: ‘aide-de-camps’ replaced by ‘aides-de-camp’.
Pg 103: ‘been ricochetting’ replaced by ‘been ricocheting’.
Pg 154: The handwritten column headings in this chart are names of
game animals. Two names are unclear, and are shown as ‘S???’
and ‘K???’. Some numbers were also unclear; reasonable guesses
have been made.
Pg 200: ‘philanthrophy, while’ replaced by ‘philanthropy, while’.
Pg 218: “aide-de-camps’” replaced by “aides-de-camp’s”.
Pg 321: ‘to Indi as’ replaced by ‘to India as’.
Index: ‘Fripp’ replaced by ‘Fripps’.
Index: ‘Goodijack’ replaced by ‘Godjack’.
Index: ‘Umvalovsi’ replaced by ‘Umvaloosi’.
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