SOJOURN IN ENGLAND
1859-1864
In the spring of 1859 John Lawrence took up his residence in London,
with his wife and his family, now consisting of seven children. He
assumed charge of his office as a member of the Council of India in
Whitehall, to which he had been nominated by Lord Stanley during the
previous year, when the functions of the East India Company were
transferred to the Crown. Though in some degree restored by his native
air, he found his head unequal to any prolonged mental strain.
Nevertheless his bearing and conversation, and his grand leonine aspect,
seem to have struck the statesmen and officials with whom he had
intercourse in England. A man of action--was the title accorded to him
by all. During the summer he received the acknowledgments of his
countrymen with a quiet modesty which enhanced the esteem universally
felt for him. The City of London conferred on him formally, in the
Guildhall, the Freedom which had already been bestowed while he was in
India. This was one of the two proudest moments in his life. On that
occasion he said: “If I was placed in a position of extreme danger and
difficulty, I was also fortunate in having around me some of the ablest
civil and military officers in India.... I have received honours and
rewards from my Sovereign.... But I hope that some reward will even yet
be extended to those who so nobly shared with me the perils of the
struggle.” The Universities of Oxford and Cambridge granted him their
Honorary Degrees. He was honoured by an invitation to Windsor Castle,
and it appears that he must have had several important conversations
with the Prince Consort.
On June 24th he received an address signed by eight thousand persons,
including Archbishops, Bishops, Members of both Houses of Parliament,
Lord Mayors and Mayors, Lord Provosts and Provosts. The national
character of this demonstration was thus set forth in a leading-article
of the _Times_ of the 25th: “Of the names contained in the address
hundreds are representative names,--indicating that chiefs of schools
and of parties have combined to tender honour to a great man, and that
each subscriber was really expressing the sentiments of a considerable
body.”
The chair was taken on the occasion by the Bishop of London (Archibald
Campbell Tait, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury). Addressing John
Lawrence, and recounting the work in the War of the Mutinies, he said:
“When we recollect that at the commencement of the recent mutiny it
was not uncommonly said that one cause of our weakness in other
parts of India was the necessity which existed of concentrating our
forces for the purpose of occupying the Sikh territory; and when we
remember on the other hand that through your instrumentality that
province which had been our terror became one of the sources of
our strength, that instead of concentrating the British forces in
the Punjab you were able to send men to aid in the capture of
Delhi, so that the weapon which seemed so formidable to our power
was by you so wielded as to be our best defence; when we reflect
that those very soldiers, who but a few years ago were engaged in
mortal conflict with our own, became under your superintendence our
faithful allies,--there appears in the whole history something so
marvellous that it is but right we should return thanks, not so
much to the human instrument, as to God by whom that instrument was
employed.”
This passage in the Chairman’s speech shows an accurate appreciation of
the position of the Punjab during the crisis. In the address itself,
after due allusion to the war and its results, there comes this special
reference to the despatch regarding Christianity in India, which has
been already mentioned in a previous chapter.
“You laid down the principle that ‘having endeavoured solely to
ascertain what is our Christian duty, we should follow it out to
the uttermost undeterred by any consideration.’ You knew that ‘if
anything like compulsion enters into our system of diffusing
Christianity, the rules of that religion itself are disobeyed, and
we shall never be permitted to profit by our disobedience.’ You
have recorded your conviction that Christian things done in a
Christian way will never alienate the heathen. About such things
there are qualities which do not provoke distrust nor harden to
resistance. It is when unchristian things are done in the name of
Christianity, or when Christian things are done in an unchristian
way, that mischief and danger are occasioned.’ These words are
memorable. Their effect will be happy not only on your own age but
on ages to come. Your proposal that the Holy Bible should be
relieved from the interdict under which it was placed in the
Government schools and colleges, was true to the British principle
of religious liberty and faithful to your Christian conscience.”
Some passages may be quoted as extracts from Lawrence’s reply as they
are very characteristic. Expressing gratitude for the good opinion of
his countrymen, and again commending his officers to the care of their
country, he thus proceeds:
“All we did was no more than our duty and even our immediate
interest. It was no more than the necessities of our position
impelled us to attempt. Our sole chance of escape was to resist to
the last. The path of duty, of honour, and of safety was clearly
marked out for us. The desperation of our circumstances nerved us
to the uttermost. There never, perhaps, was an occasion when it was
more necessary to win or to die. To use the words of my heroic
brother at Lucknow, it was incumbent on us never to give in. We had
no retreat, no scope for compromise. That we were eventually
successful against the fearful odds which beset us, was alone the
work of the great God who so mercifully vouchsafed His protection.”
This passage will probably be regarded as effective oratory, indeed few
orators would express these particular points with more of nervous
force. Thus an idea may be formed of what his style would have been, had
he received training when young, and had he retained his health. But
though he had at this time, 1859, frequently to make speeches in public,
on all which occasions the modesty, simplicity and straightforwardness
of his utterance pleased his hearers, yet he was not at all an orator.
In his early and middle life he had never, as previously explained, any
practice or need for public speaking. Had he been so practised, he would
doubtless have been among speakers, what he actually was among writers,
forcible, direct, impressive, not at all ornate or elaborate, perhaps
even blunt and brief. In short he would have been an effective speaker
for practical purposes, rising on grave occasions even to a rough
eloquence--inasmuch as he had self-possession and presence of mind in a
perfect degree. But now, as he was fully entered into middle life, all
this was impossible by reason of physical depression. Had this
depression been anywhere but where it actually was, it might have failed
to spoil his public speaking. But its seat was somewhere in the head,
and any attempt at impromptu or extempore delivery seemed first to
affect the brain, then the voice and even the chest. He could no doubt
light up for a moment and utter a few sentences with characteristic
fire; or he could make a longer speech quietly to a sympathetic
audience; but beyond this he was no longer able to go. As his health
improved, his power of speaking increased naturally, still it never
became what it might have become had he been himself again physically.
In the autumn of 1859 he proceeds to Ireland, where his wife revisits
the scenes of her early years. He returns to London, where he spends a
happy Christmas in his domestic circle, with rapidly improving health.
In the spring of 1860, he attests his abiding interest in the cause of
religious missions to India by attendance at an important gathering in
Exeter Hall, to hear his friend Edwardes (of Peshawur) deliver a
remarkable speech.
During the summer months he zealously promotes the holiday amusements of
his children. Visitors, calling to see him on public affairs, would find
him, not in a library, but in a drawing-room surrounded by his family.
In the autumn he visits his birthplace, Richmond in Yorkshire. Thence
he goes to Inverary to be the guest of the Duke and Duchess of Argyll,
with both of whom he forms a lasting friendship. Then he receives the
Freedom of the City of Glasgow and returns to London.
Early in the following year, 1861, he leaves London and takes a roomy
old-fashioned house at Southgate, a few miles to the north of London,
where he remains for the remainder of his sojourn in England. To the
house is attached some land where he may indulge his taste for farming
and his fondness for animals. In the week days he attends the Council of
India in London, but his summer evenings he spends at home with his
family, and mainly lives a country life.
His position in the Indian Council, where Sir Charles Wood (afterwards
Lord Halifax) had succeeded Lord Stanley as Secretary of State for
India, was not such as to call his individuality into play. Though he
had a voice in the affairs of India, he was no longer a man of action.
Even then, however, he impressed his colleagues favourably, and
especially the Secretary of State. He felt and expressed great regret at
the abolition of the local army of India, and its amalgamation with the
army of the Crown. He was not what is termed in England a party man, but
he certainly was a moderate Liberal in politics. As a churchman of the
Church of England, he was content with his Bible and the Book of Common
Prayer.
In 1862 he met Lord Canning, who had resigned his high office as
Governor-General, returning home very shortly to die. Then he saw Lord
Elgin appointed to fill the important place.
During 1863 he was running the even and quiet course of his life in
England, attending to the work in the Council of India in Whitehall,
which for him was not onerous, enjoying rural amusements with his
family, playing games with his children, imbibing the country breezes,
recovering as much of vigour and nerve as might be possible for a
constitution like his which had been sorely tried and severely battered.
He became much improved in health, and still more in spirits. He was in
easy circumstances, having a salary as member of the Council of India at
Whitehall, his annuity for which he had virtually paid by deductions
from salary since the date of entering the Civil Service of India, the
special pension granted to him by the East India Company, and the
moderate competency from his savings during a long service of nearly
thirty years. He was himself a man of the simplest tastes and the fewest
wants, but he had a large family for whom he was affectionately
solicitous. But while liberal and open-handed in every case which called
for generosity, he was a thrifty and frugal manager, a good steward in
small things of everyday life, even as he had been in national affairs.
He nowadays acted on the principle that--
“The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us daily nearer God.”
Thus he did few of the things which men of his repute and position might
ordinarily do, and which doubtless he must have often been urged to
undertake. He wrote neither books nor brochures, he hardly ever
addressed public meetings, he did not preside over learned or
philanthropic societies, he took no active part in politics, municipal
or national. He sought repose, dignified by the reminiscence of a mighty
past. Believing that his life’s work was in the main accomplished and
his mission ended, he pondered much on the life to come. If there be
such things on earth as unclouded happiness and unalloyed contentment,
these blessings were his at that time.
But in the autumn of 1863, two events occurred in India to disturb the
tenor of his English life. First, a fanatical outbreak occurred among
some of the hill tribes near Peshawur, the British arms received a
slight check, the excitement spread to some of the neighbouring hills,
and seemed likely to extend with rising flames to the various tribes
whose fighting power has been set forth in a previous chapter. Next, the
Governor-General, Lord Elgin, was stricken with mortal illness and
resigned his high office. The choice of the Government at once fell on
Lawrence as his successor. That he was the best and fittest man for the
arduous place, was manifest as a general reason. But there probably was
a particular reason in addition for selecting him, which may have had
weight in the minds of the responsible ministers, Lord Palmerston and
Sir Charles Wood, namely the incipient danger just mentioned on the
Trans-Indus Frontier. A little war might rapidly assume larger
proportions; it was essential to preserve India, exhausted by the War of
the Mutinies, from further warfare; none would be so competent as he to
restrict the area of operations and to speedily finish them. If this
additional reason had any operative effect, that was most honourable to
him.
So he was on November 30th suddenly offered the post of
Governor-General, which he accepted. In the evening he went home and
told his wife what had happened, whereupon he met with much of tender
remonstrance. As he laughingly said afterwards, it was fortunate that he
had accepted that day before going home, for had he gone home first on
the understanding that he was to reply the next day, he might have been
induced to refuse. He could not but feel, however, some pride and
satisfaction, though there were several drawbacks. He was to incur the
risk of shortening life, and the certainty of injuring whatever of
health might remain to him. He was to be separated from his family just
when they most required his attention, and to break up a home which he
had established with loving care. He did not at all need advancement,
and could hardly add to his fame. But the disinclination which all
official men have to decline any important offer, the discipline which
renders them anxious to do as they are bid by authority, the disposition
which men, long used to arms, feel to don their armour once again--these
sentiments constrained him. Though he would no longer seek new duties,
yet if they were imposed upon him, it would be his highest pleasure to
discharge them well. He had an important interview, before starting,
with the Prime Minister, Lord Palmerston. On December 9th, within ten
days from receiving the intimation of his appointment, he started from
Charing Cross for India, journeying alone, as it was impossible for his
wife to leave suddenly the family home.
The continuance to him, while Governor-General of India, of the special
pension (given by the late East India Company as already mentioned in
the last chapter) had to be sanctioned by Parliament; and a resolution
to this effect was passed by the House of Commons on February 8th, 1864.
The terms in which the Secretary of State, Sir Charles Wood, introduced
the resolution, and the response received may be quoted from Hansard’s
_Parliamentary Debates_. He said: “I had no hesitation in recommending
Sir John Lawrence to Her Majesty for the Governor-Generalship of India;
and within two days from the receipt of the intelligence from India (of
Lord Elgin’s death) I was authorised to offer the high post to him. He
accepted it at once, and knowing the importance of despatch he showed
the same zeal for the service of the country which had always
distinguished him, by declaring himself ready to leave England for India
by the first mail to Calcutta. The services of Sir John Lawrence are so
well known and so universally recognised, that it will only be necessary
to read the Resolution under which the pension was conferred upon him,
passed at a meeting of the Court of Directors (East India Company) on
August 11th, 1858--
“‘Resolved unanimously that in consideration of the eminent
services of Sir John Laird Mair Lawrence, G.C.B., whose prompt,
vigorous and judicious measures crushed incipient mutiny in the
Punjab and maintained the province in tranquillity during a year of
almost universal convulsion, and who by his extraordinary exertions
was enabled to equip troops and to prepare munitions of war for
distant operations, thus mainly contributing to the recapture of
Delhi and to the subsequent successes which attended our arms, and
in testimony of the high sense entertained by the East India
Company of his public character and conduct throughout a long and
distinguished career, an annuity of £2000 be granted to him.’”
From the opposite Bench, Lord Stanley rose and said: “I apprehend that
there will be no difference on any side of the House upon this
Resolution. I rise merely to express my entire concurrence, having been
connected with Indian affairs during part of the time when the services
of Sir John Lawrence were performed. This was not a retiring pension,
but was a recognition, and a very inadequate recognition, of services as
distinguished as had ever been performed by a public servant in India.”
The motion was passed by the House of Commons without any dissentient
voice, and the manner in which it was received in Parliament, when
reported in India, was sure to strengthen John Lawrence’s position
there.