CALCUTTA
“_17th Dec._
“Arrived at Calcutta, and were met by Walter Pollen [an
aide-de-camp of Lord Ripon, and a private friend of ours], who
has taken capital rooms for us at 2, Russell Street. Wrote our
names down at Government House, and arranged with Primrose, the
private secretary, that I am to have an interview with Lord Ripon
on Wednesday afternoon. Sent several letters of introduction which
had been given us to Hindus of the place. There is notice of a
meeting of a thousand persons held under Rangiar Naidu at Madras to
protest against the Address presented to T.; I have telegraphed to
congratulate him.
“_18th Dec._--A very busy day, as I had to write a vast number of
letters for the English mail. In the morning Norendro Nath Sen,
the editor of the ‘Indian Mirror,’ called, a well-informed man.
I asked him about Lord Ripon, and he said he was supporting him
all he could in public, but privately he feared Lord Ripon was
weak. In point of fact he had done nothing for the Indians though
he had shown his sympathy and taken their part in their quarrels
with the English. ‘We are thankful,’ he said, ‘for small mercies.
If the Ilbert Bill had been given in its original integrity it
would have been worth something. Now it is worth nothing except
as the recognition of a principle. Still we are thankful.’ ‘As
to the local self-government bill,’ he said, ‘people are very
suspicious. There are many who looked upon it as likely to be
made use of by the officials to impose heavier local rates in the
people’s name than they would venture to do in their own.’ I think
this very likely, as it is exactly what Ismaïl did with his Chamber
of Notables in Egypt. Increased taxation is the aim of all these
despotic governments, of the Indian more than any. Nor were they
satisfied with regard to the Bengal Rent Bill. I asked him about
the Mohammedan community here, and he said they were very timid and
time-serving. He had proposed to them to get up a demonstration
on my arrival, but they had been afraid of the Government. Amir
Ali, the head of the advanced party, was like an Englishman, and
he and his followers played into the hands of the Government. He
himself had more sympathy with Abd-el-Latif, and the old-fashioned
Mohammedans who kept themselves independent, but these were afraid
to express their opinions. They looked on Amir Ali as a renegade.
I have, fortunately, letters to both these leaders, and one from
Jemal-ed-Din to Abd-el-Latif, so I hope I shall be able to gain
their confidence.
“Later Sir Jotendro Mohun Tagore called, a Hindu of rank as he
has the title of Maharajah. He confirmed much of what Norendro
said about Lord Ripon, and was clean against the Rent Bill, but,
as he explained, he was prejudiced on this point, being himself a
Zemindar. The point of the bill is to break the agreement made by
Lord Cornwallis in 1793, by which the absolute ownership of the
land was recognized in the Zemindars. The present tenure is briefly
this: the Zemindars are the proprietors, and cannot be assessed
at more than one-fifth of the gross produce of their estate. They
generally let their land to middlemen or farmers, who employ the
ryots or labourers, just as we do in England. The effect of the
bill will be to transfer the ownership to these occupants, who
will then hold them directly from the Government. At present no
increasing of the assessment is announced, but the agreement made
by Lord Cornwallis being once broken, it seems probable that this
will follow. The Zemindars will be reduced to the ownership only
of such lands as they occupy. The contention of the Government
would seem to be that the land will then be better cultivated and
produce more, and their fifth be proportionately increased. But
Sir Jotendro is of opinion that the old system of husbandry was
safer than any new system is likely to be. The land might be made
to produce more by steam ploughing and high farming, but in the end
the fertility would be exhausted. Here, again, precisely the same
thing has happened in Egypt. He has promised, however, to put us in
the way of seeing some villages here and there that we may study
the question on the spot, and we are to make him a return call in a
day or two.
“Last came Schomberg Kerr, Lord Ripon’s chaplain, who knew my
brother and sister so well years ago. He is a very nice fellow, and
not unlike his cousin, the other Schomberg Kerr.[6] But he was wary
of talking politics, as befits a Jesuit and a private chaplain. I
fancy he makes it a rule to confine himself strictly to spiritual
advice, but I don’t know.
“_19th Dec._--Seyd Amir Ali called, and we talked about Arabi. I
taxed him at once with having written that letter to the ‘Times’
just before the war saying that all the Indian Mohammedans
supported the action of the English Government, and he said he was
sorry for it now, but the Mohammedans had been deceived as to the
true state of the case. They now recognized Arabi as an honest man,
fighting in defence of his religion. I noticed, however, that he
looked rather confused when I charged him with this, but I think
we shall get on well together in spite of the pot hat he wears. I
told him that Gladstone wanted to restore Arabi, and urged him to
protest against any further wars against Mohammedans, whatever the
pretext might be. I told him that the only way to get attention
paid to the wishes of the Mohammedan community was to inspire a
certain amount of fear. By holding their tongues in a crisis like
the Egyptian War, or pretending to sympathize with the Government,
they threw away their advantages. I trusted that if there should be
any serious talk of sending Indian troops to suppress the Mahdi he
would call a general meeting of his party to protest against it.
Amir Ali is a young man not much over thirty, and evidently very
clever, and if he has the courage to take an independent line, may
play a great part. But they say his ambition is to be made Chief
Justice.
“While we were talking, arrived a dignified old man, Manockji
Rustemji, the Parsi Consul-General for Persia, with his son. We
talked about the Bengal Rent Bill, to which, like everybody else
I have talked with, they are opposed. Sir Jamsetji Jijibhoy is
staying with him, and he promises to send him to see us. I like
this old man very much. He is a friend of Ragunath Rao’s, and spoke
very warmly of him, saying that he was a far cleverer man than his
cousin, Sir Madhava Rao, who has more celebrity but less courage.
We are to call on his wife next week.
“At a quarter to three I paid my visit to Lord Ripon, feeling
rather nervous about it beforehand, but I have every reason to be
satisfied with the result. I had a good hour’s conversation, first
about the state of the agricultural districts which I described,
and afterwards about the really important business of Hyderabad.
I set the whole state of the case before him, the reversal by
the Peishkar and Kurshid Jah of all Sir Salar Jung’s policy; the
dismissal of the skilled administrators; the consequent breakdown
of the administration; the return to old practices of corruption
and the rest of it; and, lastly, ‘what would seem incredible
but for which I could nevertheless vouch’ that the Peishkar’s
misgovernment was strongly supported at the Residency. I made
no charge against Mr. Cordery, who I considered was merely the
responsible person representing the several interests of the
official class. But I could only explain the matter to myself by
supposing that these officials feared a retrocession of Berar, and
so purposely abetted the misgovernment of the State. This had been
done without doubt in former years for similar reasons, and I had
had sufficient experience of official ways in Egypt to make me very
distrustful. Lord Ripon smiled at this and said that official ways
were always a little the same everywhere, but he did not commit
himself to any opinion as to whether I was correct or not. He said,
however, that I must know well how great a difficulty there was
in Hyderabad in finding any one competent to carry on Sir Salar
Jung’s administration. He had considered Sir Salar’s death a great
misfortune, though others, and he believed Lord Lytton, had thought
otherwise. It was the more deplorable to himself because he had
just had the satisfaction of restoring the good relations which had
so long existed between Sir Salar and the Indian Government, but
which had latterly been interrupted, and he had personally a high
opinion of Sir Salar’s integrity and good faith. But who was there
to fill his place?
“I then told him my high opinion of young Salar Jung, both as a
good young man, and one with statesmanlike qualities, which only
wanted practice to develop into a capacity equal, perhaps, to his
father’s. He said that he was glad to hear me say this, for such
had also been Sir Stewart Bailey’s opinion. But Laik Ali was very
young for so responsible a position. I said that he was twenty-one,
and he asked me whether that meant twenty-one according to the
Mohammedan or the English reckoning. I said: ‘According to the
English, as he was born in August, 1862,’ and so was very nearly
as old as his father had been when he first became Prime Minister,
for Sir Salar had been only twenty-four according to the Mohammedan
reckoning, and, if one considered how troubled and disorganized a
State Hyderabad then was and compared it with what it is now, it
would be seen that Laik Ali’s position, if he were made Minister
to-morrow, would be a more favourable one by a great deal than
his father’s had been. Now all the machinery of government was
there, and it only required to be kept going, instead of having
to be created. I also begged him to see the young man himself
privately when he came to Calcutta, and he said he would certainly
do so, and as Laik Ali could speak English, they would not want an
interpreter, and he would give him every encouragement to explain
his position and ideas thoroughly. All Lord Ripon’s manner showed
a thorough good will towards young Salar Jung, and I have little
doubt that he will give him his support. He then asked me about
the character of the Nizam, and I told him I could say nothing
for certain, because he had been so silent in our interviews that
I had not been able to judge, but it was my opinion that he was
far from being without ideas of his own, and very likely a will of
his own too. He asked me whether the people of Hyderabad wished
him to be proclaimed of age this year or not till two years later,
and I said it was not a case of their wishing. They all expected
it to be at once, and would be grievously disappointed if it was
deferred. There was a strong feeling of loyalty and affection
towards the Nizam among the people, and they would resent his being
kept out of his right. He also asked about Bushir-ed-Dowlah and to
which faction he belonged. I said I could not answer certainly,
but I believed Laik Ali considered him to be among his friends.
Bushir-ed-Dowlah seemed to be without strong political colour. Lord
Ripon remarked, however, that he, Bushir-ed-Dowlah, had been on bad
terms with Laik Ali’s father. Of this I knew nothing.
“Then, with some apologies, I mentioned the report about the draft
treaty. At this Lord Ripon laughed, and said it was the first he
had heard of it. He certainly would never consent to taking any
such treaty from the young Nizam. It would be a fraud, and I might
dismiss it from my mind; all that might possibly be asked of him
would be some limitation of his absolute power for a couple of
years or so until they saw how he got on with his Government. As to
a treaty concerning the Berar claim, he, Lord Ripon, was incapable
of proposing it.[7] I said I was sure it was so, and would dismiss
it from my mind. Lord Ripon’s manner, though reserved at first,
was very cordial to me in the latter part of this conversation, and
he shook hands warmly with me and said he was glad I had spoken to
him on these matters, and hoped to see me again. Since my famous
interview with Mr. Gladstone in March, 1882, I have not been so
favourably impressed by any statesman that I have conversed with.
_Absit omen._
“_20th Dec._--Looked in on Knight, Editor of the ‘Statesman,’ who
gave me his views on the decadence of English morality, which he
dates from the first Afghan war. He has been useful as exposing
many of the official iniquities here, and takes, as it seems to
me, generally just views. He would not, however, admit that the
finances were in any danger, but looks rather to a revolution to
end the present system.
“From him I went to Sir Stewart Bailey, and, as the conversation
led up to it, told him something of the state of things at
Hyderabad. He seemed surprised that Cordery was actually supporting
the Peishkar and Kurshid Jah; said he thought he had been weak in
letting things go on so far unchecked; repudiated all idea of its
being done on policy; did not think that Trevor really influenced
Cordery; Trevor was not nearly as clever a man, but very likely he
had been too long at Hyderabad. Sir Stewart, however, spoke with
great sympathy of Laik Ali, and said his was a waiting game, and it
was only a matter of time his becoming Minister. We discussed his
age, and he asked me, as Lord Ripon had done, whether I thought him
capable of being now at the head of affairs. I said of course it
was a very responsible position for a youth of twenty-one, but I
believed him capable of it if really supported and rightly advised
at the Residency. He was very popular in Hyderabad on his father’s
account and his own, and would find no opposition except from the
old Mogul nobles.
“We then discussed the north-west men. Sir Stewart does not like
Seyd Huseyn Bilgrami, says his letters are flippant, but agreed
with me that Salar Jung’s system, to be carried out at all, must
be so through people who had received a modern education. Of Gough
he spoke highly, but not of Clerk. On the whole I am satisfied
with our conversation. It is evident Sir Stewart meant to have
Laik Ali supported when he made the arrangement which left him
co-administrator, and will do what he can for him now. At leaving
he said it was a question whether it might not be better to let
things go on a little longer and then interfere, or to interfere
now on the Nizam’s coming of age. I said I considered they had
gone quite far enough. In any case he promised to talk the whole
matter over with Laik Ali, and I shall be surprised if Trevor is
not removed and a change of attitude insisted on with Cordery.
Talking of past affairs at Hyderabad, Bailey said that Sir Richard
Meade’s alliance with the late Emir el Kebir against Sir Salar Jung
had been most unfortunate, and had ‘dragged the Indian Government
through a deal of mud.’ He did not wish to be quoted in this
opinion, but such was the fact.
“_21st Dec._--Mulvi Seyd Amir Huseyn, deputy collector and
magistrate at court, a friend of Amir Ali’s, came. We discussed the
Bengal Rent Bill, and he told me he had been one of the original
supporters of a scheme to relieve the ryots, and had sent in a
memorandum on the subject to the Government, but now the Bill had
been drafted he had changed his mind about it. He considered that
it would not really relieve the ryots, and would most certainly
be made a precedent for further spoliation of landlords by the
Government, and eventually for increased assessments. The breach
of faith with the Zemindars was glaring, and it was not proposed
to compensate them in any way. [I remember Lytton complaining to
me at Simla in 1879 of the Bengal Land Settlement as an injustice
to Indian Finance, and saying that it would be necessary to break
it.] With regard to the condition of the Bengali Mohammedans, the
Mulvi explained that they were an oppressed community, the Hindus
having it all their own way, and there was very little courage
among them, though the antiquated Mohammedans and Hindus lived on
excellent terms. They dared not take any prominent part against the
Government. He himself was a magistrate and deputy collector, but
he had five English superiors, one above the other over him from
the Collector to the Lieutenant-Governor, who, on the complaint of
any one of them, would be down on him if he expressed his opinions.
I told him India needed martyrs, and until they learned to have
the courage of their convictions nothing would be done for them;
reforms were only granted to the importunate, and on compulsion.
“Next came Kristo Das Pal, a member of the Legislative Council,
and editor of the ‘Hindu Patriot.’ He is looked up to as the most
prudent, yet independent of the Bengali Hindus, and I found him
sensible, and with a very accurate knowledge of the forces with
which he had to deal, both here and in England. He, too, opposed
the Rent Bill, on the ground that it is not a _bona fide_ measure
of relief to the ryot, but the thin end of the revenue wedge which
grudges the comparative immunity of Bengal from rack-renting. ‘If
they were in earnest,’ he said, ‘they would first relieve their
own ryots, who are starving in Madras and Bombay, instead of doing
so out of the pockets of the Zemindars here. It was robbing Peter
to pay Paul.’ The ryots of Bengal, though poor, were rich compared
with those of the other two Presidencies, and needed far less
relief. That this is so would seem to be proved from the fact that
they do not here complain of the salt tax. They are rich enough
not to feel the burden, for it is only hard upon the _very_ poor.
Talking about Lord Ripon, he said Lord Ripon had wished the Indians
well, but with very little practical result, though he was the
best viceroy they had ever had. He was of opinion that, before
anything could be done, the Civil Service must be thrown open and
reorganized. The present civilians had no sympathy with India or
its people. They came and went like birds of passage. They must
also have representation of some sort. At present they had none
except through chance travellers like myself: I promised to do
what I could to make the matter known. He asked me whether I was
in Parliament and could ask questions, and I explained to him my
position and promised, though I could not do it personally, to get
his questions asked in proper form if he would provide me with the
materials. This he agreed to do, and I gave him my address, and the
necessary instructions. But the more I see and hear of the state
of things in India, the more convinced I am that Gordon is right.
‘Nothing will be done without a revolution.’
“In the afternoon we called on Mr. Manockji Rustemji, and found Sir
Jamsetji Jijibhoy with him. He being rich and an old man talks very
freely. It is absurd to suppose that the Parsis do not sympathize
with the rest of the natives. He has known every viceroy since
Lord William Bentinck, and likes Canning the best. Canning stood
up bravely after the mutiny, and prevented innocent blood being
shed. The English wanted martial law proclaimed in Calcutta, and
he refused. Where it was proclaimed, any man who had a grudge
could write an anonymous letter to his neighbour of a treasonable
character. The letter was opened by the police, and the man to whom
such might be addressed would be brought up, condemned without
trial, and hanged. A good old man.
“Called also on Sir Jotendro, who lamented Mr. Gladstone’s
apostasy from the principles he had proclaimed in Midlothian. He
said his speech on the question of making India pay the expense
of the Egyptian campaign had destroyed all confidence in him in
India, and he wondered that any man should be so base. I told him
that in England words said out of office bind no statesman in
office, an explanation which seemed to surprise him. We afterwards
talked poetry, Byron, Moore, Tennyson. He did not understand
Tennyson, preferred Moore infinitely. Sir Jotendro has a handsome
old-fashioned house in the centre of the town, one of the first
houses, he says, that were built in Calcutta; the city had grown up
round it.
“_22nd Dec._--The ‘Englishman’ announces a concordat on the Ilbert
Bill, which Seyd Amir Ali who called this morning declares is ten
times worse than withdrawing the Bill. The English are to be tried
by a jury composed in majority of their own countrymen. This will
make them quite independent of the law, and he talks of getting
up meetings to protest. Mr. Rustemji also called, and Mrs. Ilbert
to ask condolence. She says her husband has been abandoned by
every one, and now by Lord Ripon. She blames Lord Ripon for his
weakness, not the people at home. Lord Kimberley had written to
her husband urging him to stand firm, but the members of council
were frightened out of their wits, and Lord Ripon has followed
them. Her husband is broken-hearted at it all, and they are going
away for a week to hide in some country district. It is all very
disgraceful. I told her I could not understand any one paying a
moment’s attention to the Anglo-Indians. The Viceroy should have
been absolutely indifferent to them and their noise. She said ‘If
you had been Viceroy, I have no doubt it would have been so,’ which
I take as a compliment.
“At last Mulvi Abd-el-Latif, the head of the older-fashioned
Mohammedans, has called. I had a letter for him from Sheykh
Jemal-ed-Din, but I feared he would not come. He is a judge,
and much occupied or would have called before. I found him all,
and more than all I could have expected. He began by telling me
people were afraid here of coming to see me, partly because I was
looked ill on by the Government, partly because they knew I was
taking notes on all I saw or heard, and they were not sure but
what I might compromise them, or compromise their cause by telling
too much. He knew, however, that I had the Mohammedan cause at
heart, for he had heard from Sheykh Jemal-ed-Din what I had done,
and he thought it best to tell me all frankly, and put me on my
guard. Also it would explain to me why the Mohammedans had not
come forward to welcome me. He then sketched the position of the
two parties among the Mohammedans. Amir Ali and his friends had
broken with the mass of the community by affecting English dress
and ways, and posing as reformers, although they were in no way
qualified in a religious sense for such a position. Amir Huseyn
they even considered to be an unbeliever. In any case, Amir Ali
did not represent the Mussulman community in Bengal, for he was a
Shiah, and they were Sunnis. He, Abd-el-Latif, was a reformer too,
though working on other lines. He wished to improve the religious
education of the people, and had been labouring for the last twenty
years to get the Government to establish proper schools. Reform
must be introduced by religious, not irreligious persons, or it
would take no hold on the people. These young men were out of
all sympathy with the mass of the Mohammedans. They knew nothing
even of the religious language, Arabic, or Persian which was the
language of good society. How could they serve as a medium between
the English Government and them?
“In all this I sympathized, but discouraged him from hoping that
the Government would do much to help Mohammedan education as such,
for the tendency was towards merely secular education, and would
hardly be reversed. I hoped, however, that they might be able
to found something in the way of a University which should be
within their means, a University where, as in the Azhar at Cairo,
the students lived on their own resources, and merely attended
lectures. He promised to introduce me to some of the Ulema to talk
these matters over, but he was afraid to have the meeting at his
own house. In fact, he had already arranged that it should be at
that of Dr. Hörnli, the Swiss director of the Madrasa, so that the
Government should not take umbrage. We also talked about Amir Ali’s
letter repudiating Arabi during the war, which Abd-el-Latif was
very angry at. It did not represent their opinions. Now, with the
Afghan War, he said, it was different. They had approved of that,
because they looked on it as an attack on Russia, which was the
greatest of all the enemies of Islam. Thus, I suppose, it had been
explained to them. I told him, however, that I hoped in future the
Mohammedans of India would set their faces against all wars waged
against Mohammedans on whatever pretext.
“I like this man much. He is of the sort I like far better than
Amir Ali and Seyd Huseyn, and yet I fear the others are more likely
to succeed. They represent the future, he the past. He himself has
a son who wears coats and hats and boots to his father’s great
grief, but he said the son complained that in Indian dress he
could not enter the Anglo-Indian houses, such are the difficulties
put in the way of social intercourse. Abd-el-Latif wears eastern
robes and head-dress. It appears that he did not personally know
Jemal-ed-Din, for he was afraid of compromising himself with
one under Government ban. ‘I refrained purposely,’ he said,
‘from asking any official about you, for I should have found it
impossible to see you if they had spoken ill of you. Fortunately
they have said nothing yet, at least not to me.’ This visit has
been a pleasing and a valuable one.
“We dined with Dr. Johnstone the Bishop, a good specimen of
his class, with more liberal views than nearly any Englishman
I have talked to in India. He does not want to convert anybody
or Anglicize them. He was interested in Mohammedan education,
wished them to study their own language, and described a college
he had seen at Lahore. I shall put him into communication with
Abd-el-Latif, as he may be able to help him, having, I suppose,
some interest in official quarters.
“_23rd Dec._--The Nizam arrived yesterday with his suite, and I
went to see Salar Jung and tell him the result of my interview with
Lord Ripon. He seemed very grateful for what I have done, and I
gave him some advice about his relations with the ultra liberal
party among the Mohammedans here. I recommended him to conciliate
Abd-el-Latif and not to be too intimate with Amir Ali, as, though
Amir Ali might be right in the line he took, he, Salar Jung, would
run the risk of sharing his unpopularity with old-fashioned people.
If he was to be minister of a Mohammedan State, he must show
himself truly a Mohammedan. Any suspicion of impiety would diminish
his influence. This was a mere matter of prudence. I think he is
sensible enough to see this. He is coming again this evening to
talk further. I left cards on the Nizam, Peishkar, and the rest.
“In the course of the morning Seyd Nur-el-Huda, a Mohammedan from
Patna, called with his friend, a Christian Brahmin. Nur-el-Huda is
one of the new school, having been educated at Cambridge, but seems
a good sort of fellow. The Hindu, Dr. Sandwal, or, as he writes
it, ‘Sandel,’ is a doctor. He, the doctor, was born a Christian,
as his father was converted many years ago, and I asked him how
it affected his social position. He said it cut him off from all
Hindus, and the English would not receive him either. He had
studied medicine in England, hoping to get practice here on his
return, but it was impossible for a native doctor to compete with
the English official doctors, and though he had had the highest
recommendations from Sir Ashley Eden and others, he could get no
Government appointment either here or in the Mofussil on account of
his race. They are both very angry at the Ilbert Bill compromise,
and the doctor gave me particulars about the pressure which had
been put lately on native officials respecting it. A friend of
his, holding a minor post under Government, had received a
‘demi-official’ letter from his English superior, warning him that
if he attended meetings in favour of the Bill he should suffer for
it. This I can well believe, when I remember the pressure that was
put on officials, even in England, to prevent them from subscribing
to the Arabi Defence Fund last year.
“At 11 o’clock we started driving for Uttarpara, a village some
eight miles up the Hugli, where we spent the afternoon most
profitably with our Zemindar. He is the son of one of the greatest
landholders in the district. His father’s rent roll amounts to
about £50,000 a year. Of this, however, he touches but a small
portion, for the real owner of two-fifths of the property is the
Maharajah to whom he pays £15,000, while he pays another £15,000
in round figures to the Government for the rest. Considerable
reductions on account of bad debts, and the cost of collection
must again be made. Still it leaves him a very rich man as things
go here. Nor has he at all neglected his duties as a landlord.
He lives on his estate, and is the father of the municipality of
Uttarpara. He received us in a public library he built some years
ago, a handsome Palladian house, well supplied with books and
newspapers. They take in the ‘Illustrated,’ ‘Saturday Review,’
and all the Calcutta newspapers; and he intends now to use the
upper part of the building as a college for fifty young men. The
Government has given him nothing in this matter up to now, but
offers £100 a year towards the college. The father is a venerable
old man, reminding me vaguely of Cardinal Newman. He is blind
and very infirm--but talks with vigour. He lamented the growing
ill feeling between the English and themselves, and confirmed
what all old men declare, that the new class of civilian officers
is inferior in every quality, except cleverness, to the old
Haileybury men. With regard to the Ilbert Bill, he said it was an
attempt to reform justice in the country, which greatly needed
reforming. The administration of the criminal as well as the civil
law was very bad. The English did not now understand the ways
of the natives; and those natives, who owed their position to
competition, did not inspire respect from their countrymen, being
mostly chosen from the lower castes. He talked with great feeling,
and evidently sincere regret for the better days which were gone.
“We then drove to some villages with the son, and put our usual
series of questions. It is very evident from the answers that
the Bengal ryots, at least in this district, are far better off
than those of Madras. Our Zemindar estimated the cost of living
for them at about three rupees a month, instead of two as at
Bellari, and they eat rice and fish instead of only _raghi_. I
have promised to attend a meeting on the 29th respecting the
Rent Bill, when the whole question of the state of the peasantry
will be threshed out. Next we saw a village school for boys and
a genteel school for little girls, at which some of the family
were learning with the rest. All this is due to the care of the
landlord, and far different from anything that can be seen in the
whole Madras Presidency, where the Government is the universal
absentee proprietor. On the village green, when we came back from
our inspection, we found an awning put up, and a meeting being
held of the municipality and others--perhaps a hundred people--to
protest against the Ilbert compromise. The proceedings were quite
up to the level of such things in England; resolutions were passed
and speeches made. Surendra Nath Banerji, a Calcutta orator, had
been expected, but did not turn up. But the local speechifying was
not bad, part in English, for our benefit I suppose, and part in
Bengali.
“We did not get home till late.
“_24th Dec._--Mail day, so stayed at home writing letters. To our
great pleasure the Mulvi Sami Ullah of Aligarh (Hamid Ullah’s
father) called with two of his nephews. He arrived here two days
ago to see the exhibition, but will be back at Aligarh to receive
us by the time we get there. We had an animated discussion about
the ‘Concordat,’ the old man explaining that the proper conduct
for the Mohammedans here was being debated, some being for
expressing themselves satisfied, others for making common cause
with the Hindus. All, however, were at heart vexed and angry at
what had been done, and recognized in the Ilbert Bill a matter of
common interest. He had seen Amir Ali yesterday, who had changed
his mind and was now on the Government side. He wants, the Mulvi
explained naïvely, to get promotion, and that is why he supports
the compromise. He himself was for a moderate attitude. I spoke
my mind very plainly, and told them that, if they deserted the
Hindus in this instance, they would never have any reform given or
justice done them for another twenty years. They must sink their
differences and their little private interests if they wanted
to force the Government’s hand. The Bill was the battle-ground
on which the whole principle of legislation for India was being
fought; and the Mohammedans could turn the scale by their attitude
one way or the other. The young men warmly applauded this, and I
think, too, the Mulvi was partly convinced. I told them, if the
Mohammedans only knew their power they would not be neglected and
ill-treated by the Government as they now were. In England we were
perpetually scared at the idea of a Mohammedan rising in India,
and any word uttered by a Mohammedan was paid more attention to
than that of twenty Hindus. But, if they sat still, thanking
Providence for the favours which were denied them, the English
public would be only too happy to leave them as they were. The
Mulvi promised to make my opinion known at a Conference which
had been summoned for this evening to consider the action of the
Mohammedans, and so I trust I may have done some good, at least
with the Liberal party. Of Abd-el-Latif I feel more doubtful, for
there is great ill-feeling in Calcutta between the old-fashioned
Mohammedans and the Hindus.
“They were hardly gone when another Mohammedan called, Mulvi A. M.,
to whom I had had a letter from Seyd Abd-el-Rahman. This is a man
of the type I like best, of the school, in fact, of Jemal-ed-Din,
who here, as elsewhere, laid the foundation of a liberal religious
movement. He gave me a clearer account of the parties in Calcutta
than I have yet received. Amir Ali and his friends have put
themselves out of the pale of Mohammedan society by their English
dress and ways, while Abd-el-Latif and the body of the Mulvis
(Ulema) are too strictly conservative. He had been converted to
the large idea of a Mohammedan reform and Mohammedan unity by
Jemal-ed-Din, and there were many now of his way of thinking who
held a middle position between the rival parties. I urged him too
to join the Hindus in their protest against the compromise, and he
said that if one of the prominent leaders would call a meeting,
he could promise to bring a hundred men to it, but he was only
translator to the High Court, and could not commence the movement.
He then spoke with great sympathy of the work I had done in Egypt,
and of my writings. He speaks good English, but in no other way
affects European manners, wearing his own dress, a little white
skull cap and a long frock. (Sami Ullah and his nephews wear the
fez.) I like A. M. greatly, and have promised to dine with him on
Thursday, and meet the men of his way of thinking. He reminds me
of Rasul Yar Khan, and looks like an Arab of the South, though he
assures me he is a pure Bengali, as far as he knows his genealogy.
He has all the signs of breeding an Arab should have, his thumb
going well beyond the forefinger joint, his complexion clear
and dark and his features regular. Also he is thin and has the
eager frank manner of an Arab, and the lack of reserve. He told
me Jemal-ed-Din had been disappointed with the Mohammedans of
Calcutta, who were afraid of listening to him on account of the
Government. He had found them selfish and unpatriotic. Of Amir Ali
he has a poor opinion. Abd-el-Latif he thinks timid, and the rest
of the Mulvis are intensely ignorant.
“Then I called on Dr. Hörnli, a Swiss, who showed me the Madrasa,
an institution which educates eight hundred boys and young men from
eight to twenty-two years old. There are five hundred English and
Persian students, three hundred Arabic. They pay twelve annas a
month, and most find even that too expensive. There are rooms for
about sixty, who have bedsteads, chairs, and tables, while the rest
board in town. He did not know what became of the students in after
life. He believed the Arabic scholars became Mulvis in the country
towns. There were twenty professors, at from thirty to one hundred
and fifty rupees a month; the head master got three hundred. It was
holiday time unfortunately, and only half a dozen boarders were
left in college.
“Walter Pollen tells us the Viceroy told the Nizam at his reception
that he hoped to see him soon assume the duties of his rank. This
looks well.
“_25th Dec., Christmas Day._--The ‘Indian Mirror’ has a leading
article exhorting all classes to receive us with honour, and to
show their gratitude for our sympathy with the Egyptians and with
themselves. I think we have come at the right time.
“We have had three visits to-day, first from Sambhu Chandra
Mukerji, formerly Minister to the Rajah of Tippara, an independent
prince on the Assam frontier, a very superior Hindu, handsomely
dressed in shawls and a huge shawl turban. He asked me many
questions about Arabia and the Mohammedans in various parts of the
world, and seemed to know their history well, as also the state of
modern affairs everywhere. We discussed Mr. Gladstone’s character.
He had followed his career closely from the day of his article
on ‘Church and State’ downwards, and was of opinion that he had
always been shifty and insincere. He had not been surprised at
his repudiation of the Midlothian doctrines, nor at his conduct
in Egypt. He has evidently a poor opinion of morality as an
element in English statecraft, and rates our party professions
exactly at their worth. How absurd it is to talk of the Hindus as
intellectually inferior to ourselves--indeed as anything but far
our superiors.
“Secondly, Kebir-ed-Din, the joint editor of the one Mohammedan
journal published in Calcutta, a Jewish looking person with a
turban and dyed beard. He said he belonged to the Amir Ali faction,
but except that he talks English, he has nothing of the modern
school about him. I tried to impress upon him the necessity of
supporting the Hindus in the matter of the Ilbert Bill, but found
him exceedingly pigheaded. He seemed quite unable to get beyond
the idea that there were no Mohammedans in the Civil Service
who would benefit by the Bill, or to see that the principle of
legislating in native interests was at stake. I think this was as
much from stupidity as ill will.
“After this we paid a round of visits, but only saw the Lyalls,
who are staying at Belvidere, the Lieutenant-Governor’s official
residence, a really beautiful place. I had some political sparring
with Lyall, which was amusing, as he is very light in hand. Rivers
Thompson, the Lieutenant-Governor, we did not see, he being
seriously ill.
“Ate our Christmas dinner in absolute silence at the _table
d’hôte_, feeling rather ‘like Jews at a christening,’ but received
an agreeable note from Mr. Ghose, the President or Secretary of
the Indian National Association, recording a vote addressing us a
welcome on our arrival, and a hope that our stay in Calcutta would
be for the advantage of India.
“_26th Dec._--A busy morning. Our earliest visitor was Mulvi A. M.,
with whom I talked over the whole range of Mohammedan prospects.
He asked me what I thought of the ultimate fate of India, and I
explained my view that it should be put on the same footing as
Australia, that is to say, that each province should have its
English Government, supported by English troops, but that the
whole civil administration, legislation, and finance should be
left to native hands; that the effect of this would be to put
Northern India practically under Mohammedan, Southern India under
Hindu Government, a solution which pleased him much. He said that
none of the Mohammedans wished to do away altogether with English
government, as it would only lead to fighting, as there was no
chance of Mohammedans and Hindus agreeing for a century to come,
but of course they did not like English administration. It favoured
the Hindus unduly. But, left to themselves, they should be able to
hold their own in all Northern India. The English policy, however,
had been to suppress them, and throw obstacles in the way of their
educating themselves and learning their own power. The Mulvis of
Calcutta were terribly ignorant of politics, and of all that was
going on in the world. At the time of the Egyptian War they had not
known whether Egypt lay North or South or East or West. I am to
dine with him to-morrow, to meet Jemal-ed-Din’s disciples.
“We then talked about education, and discussed the possibility
of getting up a University. The difficulty, of course, is money.
All the great Mohammedan landlords were ruined at the time of the
Permanent Settlement, when their lands were confiscated; and the
other rich men who lived on Government employment were ousted from
it in 1862 by the change of the language of the Courts. Now there
are hardly any rich Mohammedans in Bengal. The masses are living on
daily wages, and cannot even afford the rupee a month necessary for
their sons’ education. While we were talking, Nawab Mir Mohammed
Ali was announced, one of the few remaining Zemindars, a little old
man, very small and wizened, wearing a handsome dress, with a fine
emerald in his cap. We continued our conversation, and I rather
took his breath away by suggesting him as a possible contributor to
the University. A more congenial subject to him was the Bengal Rent
Bill, on which he was eloquent, and he invited me to attend the
meeting on Saturday. Then Abd-el-Latif’s son, in European clothes,
joined us, and we got on the Ilbert Bill, as to which I exhorted
them all strongly to make a concordat with the Hindus, helping
them this time on a promise of help from them when their own
interests were at stake. The old man was rather frightened at this
and went away. I had it out, however, with Abd-el-Rahman, and hope
he will influence his father. Unless the Mohammedans show their
teeth on an occasion of this sort, they will never get attention
paid to their wrongs.
“When they had gone Salar Jung looked in to thank us for all we had
done for him and for the Nizam, and I showed him the memorandum
of my conversation with Lord Ripon. He also invited us on the
Nizam’s part to dine with him on Sunday. It is certainly something
worth doing to have upset the Cordery-Peishkar conspiracy, and
got the Nizam installed; for Salar Jung tells us that Lord Ripon
has announced to the Nizam that he shall come of age in February.
He has also invited us to assist at the installation ceremonies
at Hyderabad, which we will do if possible. Then, if Salar Jung
is named Dewan, our triumph will be complete. Salar Jung has seen
Stuart Bailey, and been very well received by him.
“Next came Surendra Nath Bannerji, the Hindu editor who was put in
prison for questioning Judge Norman’s conduct on the bench. He is
evidently a man of energy, and having been a martyr and survived
it, shows more courage than most of them. He is very angry at the
Ilbert Bill compromise, and let slip the _gros mot_ of ‘revolution’
in regard to it. He was very urgent with me to get the Mohammedans
to join them in protesting, and I promised to do my best this
evening at Amir Ali’s dinner. It is high time certainly they should
sink differences, but the Mohammedans are hard to move. Their
position was well explained a little later by our last visitor this
morning, Mulvi Ahmed, Municipal Councillor and an independent man.
He explained that there was hardly a leading man among the Calcutta
Mohammedans who had any means apart from his Government pay.
Neither Amir Ali nor Abd-el-Latif could afford to come forward as a
champion, as all their prospects depended on the Government. Mulvi
Ahmed drew a most gloomy picture of Mohammedan prospects. They
were all, he said, in despair here in Bengal. It was impossible
for them to do anything, impossible to combine with the Hindus who
were so selfish, they wanted every post for themselves. Out of
forty-eight Municipal Councillors there were only five Mohammedans,
and as more power was given to the natives the Mohammedan position
would get worse and worse. It was their poverty which stood in
their way. They could not pay for the education necessary to pass
the competitive examinations, so they were left behind. I tried to
convert him to my view of energetic action, but in vain. There was
no one to take the lead, and it would result in no good.
“At last all were gone and we went to the races just in time to see
Sherwood beat Euphrates, a very fine race. Sherwood, when moving,
has all the appearance of an Arab, so I reverse the opinion formed
of him in the stable. Euphrates is a great tall animal with a fine
head; but neither he nor Sherwood are horses to breed from. They
lack quality. There was a great gathering of Mohammedans in front
of the race stand, and I saw Abd-el-Latif in close conversation
with Kurshid Jah. The Nizam was there, looking more comfortable and
at ease than I had seen him before. He was full of smiles, and even
talked a little to us.
“We dined at Amir Ali’s, a dinner entirely of Mohammedans, with the
single exception of a Mohammedanized Hindu, a very clever man, who
had been in England, and knew everything and everybody. There were
about fifteen at dinner, and we talked very freely on all matters
of Mohammedan interest, and after dinner some fifty more arrived,
in fact all the leading Mohammedans in Calcutta, Abd-el-Latif among
them, wonderful to relate, and one of his sons--I believe he had
never been inside Amir Ali’s house before--and a cousin of the
King of Oude, and many learned men in turbans and every variety of
dress, and strangers from Bussora and Nejd, all assembled to do us
honour. So I think we may congratulate ourselves upon having made
a successful visit to India. I never expected to be received so
cordially, but the moment has been a favourable one. I do not find
any of that blind devotion to the Sultan which Jemal-ed-Din led me
to expect, but things have doubtless changed since he was here, and
the weakness of Constantinople is producing its natural effect,
contempt. Only for the Sultan personally, as head of the Mohammedan
nation, there is of course a certain loyalty. Still, my opinions
are generally approved, and that is significant.
“I had an opportunity of saying a few words to Abd-el-Latif about
the attitude Mohammedans should take in this Ilbert quarrel, and
he agreed with me that it might be well if they showed their teeth
a little. But he is a cautious man and would promise nothing. With
Amir Ali and Amir Huseyn I was able to do more, and I shall be
surprised if, at the meeting of the National Mohammedan Society
to-morrow, they do not take my view. I proposed that they should
address a dignified and moderate protest to the Viceroy, admitting
that the Ilbert Bill did not immediately affect the Mohammedan
community, but taking their stand on the principle that the
proposed compromise affected the rule of equality before the law.
At the same time I advised Amir Ali to come to a regular concordat
with the Hindus for their mutual benefit.
“The only visits we had this morning were from two Mohammedan
doctors, one a surgeon of the 9th Bengal Cavalry and a native of
Assam, the other a Lucknow man who had been educated at Lahore and
had a grievance about which he had come from Gaya to consult me.
“We dined at Mulvi A. M.’s, an entertainment of a very different
sort from last night’s. He lives in a poor little house in the
old quarter of the town, and we dined in his one room with eight
or nine fellow students, all looking as if they were starved, but
brimful of intelligence. They were most eager to hear what we had
to tell them of Arabi and the Egyptian War, and Jemal-ed-Din and
our hopes for the future of Islam. They talked very freely, and
did not conceal their hatred of England, and their hope that the
Mahdi would drive us out of Egypt. ‘During the Egyptian War,’
they said, ‘we all looked to Arabi to restore our fortunes, for
we are in a desperate state and need a deliverer.’ I told them
of my hopes in Egypt, which pleased them much. They had some of
them read my ‘Future of Islam,’ and the rest were waiting to read
it in Hindustani. For Jemal-ed-Din they professed something like
worship, and they were readers of ‘Abu Nadara’ and the ‘Bee.’ These
young men had very pleasant faces, but their starved bodies were
mere skeletons. They spend all their money on their education, and
I fear the dinner he gave us will cost our host several months’
income. I had no notion he was so poor. Only one of them was well
dressed, a very nice young man, who told us he had been at the
National Mohammedan Association meeting to-day, where, though
the sense of the meeting was hostile to the Ilbert compromise,
no resolution was come to. Amir Ali, who presided, seems to have
contented himself with a neutral attitude, but they are to have
another meeting later--too late probably. The dinner reminded me a
little of some of our visits to the Azhar quarter at Cairo, only
I was never in so poor a house there. The food was cooked in the
Indian way, and we drank water. Our host would not eat, but served
us. They all had excellent manners, and though they spoke without
any reserve, nothing was said which should not have been said. This
visit has given me more insight into Mohammedan ideas in India than
all I have yet seen and heard. It is clear that they would welcome
any deliverer here, Russian or French, or from the Devil. One of
them had read a poem by Victor Hugo in praise of Arabi, and argued
therefrom that the French must sympathize with them. Also the
Government of Chandanagore they say is a model Government.
“_28th Dec._--It appears that the author of the famous ‘Concordat’
is none other than Colvin; so here I find myself once more fighting
him as in Egypt. I have little doubt that he is working the English
newspapers as he did two years ago at Cairo.
“Keay called in the morning, and, as he is going to speak to Lord
Ripon about Hyderabad, I told him briefly of my own conversation,
so as to give him a line. He is writing a full account of the
Hyderabad intrigues for the ‘Statesman.’ Then Abd-el-Latif came,
and we discussed his rivals, Amir Ali and Amir Huseyn, whom he
calls worshippers of Nature. He asked me to attend a meeting of his
society, the Anjuman i Islam, and give them my views on Mohammedan
education; and I think I will do this, though it will be rather
an experiment. Kurshid Jah paid us a visit, but he came with an
English Secretary, and is a dull talker, so I got nothing out of
him. Our short conversation was through an interpreter.
“Then, at twelve, I went to the first meeting of the National
Conference, a really important occasion, as there were delegates
from most of the great towns--and, as Bose in his opening speech
remarked, it was the first stage towards a National Parliament.
The discussion began with a scheme for sending boys to France for
industrial education, but the real feature of the meeting was an
attack on the Covenanted Civil Service by Surendra Nath Bannerji.
His speech was quite as good a one as ever I heard in my life,
and entirely fell in with my own views on the matter. The other
speakers were less brilliant, though they showed fair ability,
and one old fellow made a very amusing oration which was much
applauded. I was asked to speak, but declined, as I don’t wish to
make any public expression of opinion till my journey is over. But
at Bombay I shall speak my mind. I was the only European there,
and am very glad to have been present at so important an event.
The proceedings would have been more shipshape if a little more
arrangement had been made beforehand as to the speakers. But on
the whole it went off very creditably. Both Bannerji and Bose are
speakers of a high order. The meeting took place upstairs in the
Albert Hall, and about one hundred persons were present. Before
the speaking commenced, a national hymn was sung by a man with a
strong voice, who played also on an instrument of the guitar type.
“Walter Pollen dined with us, and after dinner I went to an evening
party at the India Club. This was started a year ago with the view
of amalgamating Englishmen with Indians, but the bitterness of
feeling is now so great that, with the exception of two or three
secretaries in attendance on Indian princes, I believe I was the
only Englishman present. The Catholic Archbishop, however, and
Father Lafont were there, and I had some conversation with them
about Cardinals Manning and Howard. Abd-el-Latif introduced me to a
good many notables, the King of Oude’s brother, the Rajahs of Cutch
Bahar and Tippara, and the Diwan of the Rajput Rajah of Ulwar.
Tippara is a regular Chinaman in feature, and it needed no large
amount of candour in him to repudiate the flattery of his courtiers
when they told him he was a pure-bred Aryan. Cutch Bahar is a
young man with an English education, who appears at race courses
in a white hat, and is popular with the Anglo-Indians. He wore his
own clothes here, but is uninteresting. The Diwan invited us to
stay with him at Ulwar, and I shall certainly do so, as it will be
a good opportunity of seeing a Rajput court. There were also an
uncle of Nebbi-Ullah’s from Cawnpore and about two hundred other
gentlemen of distinction from Calcutta and the provinces, all in
their best clothes.
“_29th Dec._--The only visit this morning was from Delawar
Huseyn, a deputy-magistrate and a sensible man, who gave the same
melancholy account of the poverty of the Mohammedans in Bengal.
I fear their case is nearly hopeless. In spite of their large
population, they are without influence. The mass of them are
extremely poor, mere peasants, or, in the town, day labourers. They
have no commercial connection, and the sons of the few rich men
are obliged to look to Government employment for a living, whereas
the Hindus are rich and pushing. It is a struggle for existence,
in which the Mohammedans are the weakest, and so are going to the
wall. In the north-west, he tells me, it is not so.
“At twelve I went to the second meeting of the Conference, at
which the Civil Service was again discussed; and I made a short
speech, in answer to some complimentary remarks made with regard
to my presence, in which I said that I was glad to have had the
opportunity of being present at these the first meetings which had
a national character in India, and which prefigured the parliament
which they were all doubtless looking forward to. I said that I,
too, looked forward to this, and to their complete self-government.
I believed _all_ nations were fit for self-government, and few more
so than the Indian, and I described the condition of Greece when
it was first set to manage its own affairs, a conglomeration of
robber chieftains, piratical seafarers and an absolutely uneducated
peasant population. Yet, after fifty years, they had an orderly
Government, with universal education, commercial prosperity, and a
shipping which had driven every competitor out of the Levant. In
view of such results, who should say that any nation was unfit for
its own rule? This produced much cheering, and they all expressed
themselves highly delighted with my sympathy. To-morrow Keay is to
come to the meeting, and will speak about the rural distress.
“Then, at three, I went with Anne to another meeting, that of
the Zemindars at the Town Hall. It was a public meeting, and
much more numerous, but the room is badly constructed, and it was
difficult to hear the speakers. They passed resolutions against
the Rent Bill, being all interested in the matter. Our friends
from Uttarpara were there, and Sir Jotendro, and many princes and
Nawabs, and Gorst. We dined at Sir Stuart Bailey’s, Salar Jung and
his brother being there, also Lyall, and Durand, the Foreign Office
Secretary. We discussed the necessity of lying in politics, and I
fear I made some rather uncomplimentary observations, not knowing
that Durand held the position he did.
“Abd-el-Rahman, the son of Abd-el-Latif, with a brother-in-law,
called, and we discussed Seyd Ahmed’s ideas of education and ideas
of religion. They, of course, disapprove. Seyd Ahmed originally
intended to teach everything in Urdu, but has abandoned that for
English, and now the education at Aligarh is wholly English.
Religion is not taught there, they say. Seyd Ahmed began as
a Sunni, then adopted Wahhabism, but is now a Deist. We also
discussed the idea of a university on a religious basis, which is
what it ought to have, and they agreed with me that Calcutta would
not be a good place on account of sectarian differences, expensive
living, and the poverty of the Bengal Mohammedans. My own idea, an
idea which struck me last night as I lay awake, is Hyderabad. It is
central, it is cheap, and it is a seat of Mohammedan Government.
Religious thought would there be free from English and Hindu
interference. With this notion I called on Salar Jung, and found
him delighted at the prospect, and he is sure the Nizam, too, would
be delighted, and he will speak to him and let me know. He is
really grateful to me for what I did for him with Lord Ripon.
“Then I went to the last meeting of the National Delegates, in
which they discussed the National Fund. There was some rather
spirited conversation, and I suggested to Bose, the secretary, that
he should send the hat round, but he said if he did that they would
never come again. However, offers of fifty and one hundred rupees
began to be made, and one rich Zemindar came down for one thousand.
I myself contributed one hundred, and I believe the subscription
ended with a considerable sum. I then offered to give my assistance
in managing their telegrams, and expounded to them the necessity of
publicity as to their meetings and resolutions. I also suggested
that they should raise a fund among those of their number who held
official positions, as an insurance against persecution. This would
give them courage. Also that they should take up especially the
cause of the ryots in Madras and Bombay. That would give a wide
extension to their influence. It was Arabi’s advocacy of the cause
of the poor that brought all Egypt to him.
“Keay then came in and delivered an address about the cause of the
ryots, which was well received. But I notice that the Conference
is very provincial in its interests, as quite three parts of
the delegates are Bengalis. Afterwards there was a discussion
on Parliamentary government in which Bose was eloquent, and I
made a second speech, giving my ideas on what might be looked
forward to--first, elections to the legislative council, secondly,
representation in the English Parliament, and thirdly, home
Parliaments of their own in the different provinces on the Colonial
system. Not many speakers joined in this discussion, which was
restricted to generalities even by Bose. The proceedings terminated
with votes of thanks to Keay and me--and so ended the first
session of the Indian Parliament. May it be memorable in history.
“We dined with the Nizam, but I did not consider it advisable to
talk to him myself about the university scheme, though I shall urge
on him, through Salar Jung, to propose it to the Viceroy on the
occasion of his installation. The moment would be opportune, and he
could not well be refused.
“_31st Dec._--This morning we had a flood of visitors whom I will
name in order.
“Ferid-ed-Din Ahmed, Nebbi-Ullah’s uncle, with Akbar Huseyn, the
translator of my book, the ‘Future of Islam.’ We talked a good deal
about this, and I have promised to write a new short preface, in
which I will say something complimentary about the Sultan--this
rather to conciliate Constantinople than the people here, for,
in reality, they have lost most of their respect for the Ottoman
Caliphate since the Egyptian War. Ferid-ed-Din is not one of the
new school, and he told me he had met the book accidentally, and
had been struck by the Arabic motto on the cover. This had induced
him to read it in spite of some one’s having told him that it was
anti-Mohammedan. It had converted him to believe in an Arabian
Caliphate, and he said it would convert others, for very few
Mohammedans here know how, or why, Abd-el-Hamid claimed to be
Caliph. This is very satisfactory. He then introduced some half a
dozen merchants and chief persons from Allahabad, who came as a
deputation to announce their intention of doing me some honour when
I came to their city. We discussed the foundation of a university,
to which they heartily agreed, condemning the Aligarh College as
irreligious, and they said Hyderabad would be the very best place,
if it was possible to get the Nizam’s patronage. On this point I
reassured them, and doubted only the English Government’s conduct,
and counselled them to treat the matter for a while as a secret.
“Prince Jehan Kadur, brother of the King of Oude, and Prince
Suleyman Kadur, his nephew, called, a visit of compliment, but
the former invited us to stay with him at Lucknow, which will be
pleasant. The King of Oude lives here and keeps a menagerie, which
we are to see.
“Rasbihari Mukerji from Uttarpara came to wish us good-bye, a very
nice youth, grandson of the old man, and an ardent patriot of the
best sort.
“Rajah Siva Prasad, with a note of introduction from Lyall. Mukerji
knew him by name, and warned me that he was a friend of the
English, and had been recently burned in effigy in his native town,
Benares. I found him, nevertheless, a very well educated and clever
man. He contended that the country was continuously increasing in
prosperity, compared it with the state of things a hundred years
ago, and said that within his recollection more land had been taken
under cultivation. I asked him whether the ryots ate more rice than
forty years ago, and he answered ‘The size of a man’s belly does
not increase.’ He is a friend of the Maharajah of Benares, and
invited us, on his part, to stay with the Maharajah for a week.
This man has, of course, been sent by Lyall to show us that there
are some natives who support the Government; but that is all fair.
We will go to him at Benares, and hear what he has to say.
“Abd-el-Rahman Mazhar, of Samaria, and a Cadi of Bagdad, with a
friend. They had just come _via_ Colombo, and had seen Mahmud Sami,
whom he extolled for his learning.[8] He himself had been educated
in the Azhar--a dignified old man, with beautiful white teeth.
He had known Mahmud Sami as a boy, and wondered why the English
Government had attacked him as a rebel.
“Mohammed Ikram-Ullah, Rais of Delhi, and Mohammed Ishak Khan, of
Meerut, men of position, who invited us to let them know of our
arrival in their towns.
“Amir Ali, who was very anxious to explain his true position
as leader of Mohammedan thought at Calcutta; but his attitude
with regard to the Ilbert compromise is not that of a leader.
Mohammed Ikram-Ullah has just told me he supported the compromise
at the meeting they held. He wants to please the Government.
We then argued the question of his hat. He defended himself by
explaining that it gave him more consideration in a crowd. On
railway platforms and such places men in Indian dress were hustled
and pushed about by the railway servants. This is no doubt true.
He appealed to Bose, who had come in, to say whether it was so,
and also whether he had not supported the Indian Association on
the Ilbert and other questions. Young Mukerji, who had sat on in
silence, listening, said to me as he went out: ‘I am glad you told
him about his hat. We all hate that.’
“These visits took us till three o’clock, and we had not even a
moment to get breakfast. Then we went to the Zoological Gardens,
where there are some astonishing tigers, and dined at home with
Walter Pollen, thus ending the year 1883.
“I forgot to mention my conversation to-day with Bose. We discussed
the probability of a revolution, and he said the danger was very
great. People were losing their confidence in Lord Ripon, after
having lost it in the Government at home. They still looked to
English public opinion, but a spark might at any time fire the
train. He asked what amount of influence men like those whose
names were on the Indian Committee exercised, and I told him
‘very little.’ I was not at all sanguine of any great increase of
sympathy with them from the British public, and I strongly advised
the Indians to look to themselves, and themselves only, for help.
We then talked over the details of an agitation. He is to organize
meetings in every part of India, and telegraph constantly to me
in London for publicity through the press. This is the only way,
I maintain, of gaining them any real relief. They must frighten
and coerce the English people into giving them their rights. I am
writing strongly to Eddy Hamilton, pointing out the danger.”
FOOTNOTES:
[6] The late Lord Lothian.
[7] _N.B._ Precisely this leonine treaty in the form of a perpetual
lease was imposed on the Nizam twenty years later by Lord Curzon
under circumstances of extreme compulsion.
[8] Compare Lord Cromer’s book, “Modern Egypt,” where this same
Mahmud Sami, a poet and a highly educated gentleman, is described
as an “illiterate” man--a foolish judgement, typical of the
writer’s ignorance of Egyptian character.