embarrassment to these gentlemen, to be met by evasion rather than
direct opposition. The radical John Bright, a strong opponent of State
interference and equally straightforward in his methods, made a personal
attack on Lord Ashley. He referred to the Dorset labourers, as if Ashley
was indifferent to abuses nearer home, and left no one in doubt of his
opinions. At the same time, Sir James Graham, the Home Secretary, did
all in his power to defeat Ashley's bill by bringing forward alternative
proposals, which he knew would be unacceptable to the workers. In face
of such opposition most men would have given way. Ashley, who had been a
consistent Tory all his life, was bitterly aggrieved at the treatment
which his bill met with from his official leaders. He persevered in his
efforts, relying on support from outside; but in Parliament the
Government triumphed to the extent of defeating the Ten Hours Bill in
March 1844 and again in April 1846. Still, the small majority (ten) by
which this last division was decided showed in which direction the
current was flowing, and when a few months later the Tories were ousted
from office, the Whigs took up the bill officially, and in June 1847
Lord Ashley, though himself out of Parliament for the moment, had the
satisfaction of seeing the bill become the law of the land.
There was great rejoicing in the manufacturing districts, and Lord
Ashley was the hero of the day. The working classes had no direct
representative in Parliament in those days: without his constant efforts
neither party would have given a fair hearing to their cause. He had
argued with politicians without giving away principles; he had stirred
the industrial districts without rousing class hatred; he had been
defeated time after time without giving up the struggle. Much has been
added since then to the laws restricting the conditions of labour till,
in the often quoted words of Lord Morley, the biographer of Cobden, we
have 'a complete, minute, and voluminous code for the protection of
labour... an immense host of inspectors, certifying surgeons and other
authorities whose business it is to "speed and post o'er land and ocean"
in restless guardianship of every kind of labour'. But these were the
heroic days of the struggle for factory legislation, and also of the
struggle for cheap food for the people. Reviewing these great events
many years later the Duke of Argyll said, 'During that period two great
discoveries have been made in the science of Government: the one is the
immense advantage of abolishing restrictions on trade, the other is the
absolute necessity of imposing restrictions on labour'. While Sir Robert
Peel might with some justice contest with Cobden the honour of
establishing the first principle, few will challenge Lord Ashley's right
to the honour of securing the second.
Of the many religious and political causes which he undertook during and
after this time, of the Zionist movement to repatriate the Jews, of the
establishing of a Protestant bishopric at Jerusalem, of his attacks on
the war with Sind and the opium trade with China, of his championship of
the Nestorian Christians against the Turk, of his leadership of the
great Bible Society, there is not space to speak. The mere list gives an
idea of the width of his interests and the warmth of his sympathy.
Some of these questions were highly contentious; and Lord Ashley, who
was a fervent Evangelical, was less than fair to churchmen of other
schools. To Dr. Pusey himself he could write a kindly and courteous
letter; but on the platform, or in correspondence with friends, he could
denounce 'Puseyites' in the roundest terms. One cannot expect that a man
of his character will avoid all mistakes. It was a time when feeling ran
high on religious questions, and he was a declared partisan; but at
least we may say that the public good, judged from the highest point,
was his objective; there was no room for self-seeking in his heart. Nor
did this wide extension of his activity mean neglect of his earlier
crusades. On the contrary, he continued to work for the good of the
classes to whom his Factory Bills had been so beneficial. Not content
with prohibiting what was harmful, he went on to positive measures of
good; restriction of hours was followed by sanitation, and this again by
education, and by this he was led to what was perhaps the second most
famous work of his life.
In 1843 his attention had already been drawn to the question of
educating the neglected children, and he was making acquaintance at
first hand with the work of the Ragged Schools, at that time few in
number and poorly supported. He visited repeatedly the Field Lane
School, in a district near Holborn notoriously frequented by the
criminal classes, and soon the cause, at which he was to work
unsparingly for forty years, began to move forward. He went among the
poor with no thought of condescension. Simple as he was by nature, he
possessed in perfection the art of speaking to children, and he was soon
full of practical schemes for helping them. Sanitary reform was not
neglected in his zeal for religion, and emigration was to be promoted as
well as better housing at home; for, till the material conditions of
life were improved, he knew that it was idle to hope for much moral
reform. 'Plain living and high thinking' is an excellent ideal for those
whose circumstances put them out of reach of anxiety over daily bread;
it is a difficult gospel to preach to those who are living in
destitution and misery.
The character of his work soon won confidence even in the most unlikely
quarters. In June 1848 he received a round-robin signed by forty of the
most notorious thieves in London, asking him to come and meet them in
person at a place appointed; and on his going there he found a mob of
nearly four hundred men, all living by dishonesty and crime, who
listened readily and even eagerly to his brotherly words.
Several of them came forward in turn and made candid avowal of their
respective difficulties and vices, and of the conditions of their lives.
He found that they were tired of their own way of life, and were ready
to make a fresh start; and in the course of the next few months he was
able, thanks to the generosity of a rich friend, to arrange for the
majority of them to emigrate to another country or to find new openings
away from their old haunts.
But, apart from such special occasions, the work of the schools went
steadily forward. In seven years, more than a hundred such schools were
opened, and Lord Shaftesbury was unfailing in his attendance whenever he
could help forward the cause. His advice to the managers to 'keep the
schools in the mire and the gutter' sounds curious; but he was afraid
that, as they throve, boys of more prosperous classes would come in and
drive out those for whom they were specially founded. 'So long', he
said, 'as the mire and gutter exist, so long as this class exists, you
must keep the school adapted to their wants, their feelings, their
tastes and their level.' And any of us familiar with the novels of
Charles Dickens and Walter Besant will know that such boys still existed
unprovided for in large numbers in 1850 and for many years after.
Thus the years went by. He succeeded to the earldom on his father's
death in 1851. His heart was wrung by the early deaths of two of his
children and by the loss of his wife in 1872. In his home he had his
full share of the joys and sorrows of life, but his interest in his work
never failed. If new tasks were taken up, it was not at the expense of
the old; the fresh demand on his unwearied energies was met with the
same spirit. At an advanced age he opened a new and attractive chapter
in his life by his friendly meetings with the London costermongers. He
gave prizes for the best-kept donkey, he attended the judging in person,
he received in return a present of a donkey which was long cherished at
Wimborne St. Giles. It is impossible to deal fully with his life in each
decade; one page from his journal for 1882 shows what he could still do
at the age of eighty-one, and will be the best proof of his persistence
in well-doing. He began the day with a visit to Greenhithe to inspect
the training ships for poor boys, at midday he came back to Grosvenor
Square to attend a committee meeting of the Bible Society at his home,
he then went to a public banquet in honour of his godson, and he
finished with a concert at Buckingham Palace, thus keeping up his
friendly relations with all classes in the realm. To the very last, in
his eighty-fifth year, he continued to attend a few meetings and to
visit the scenes of his former labours; and on October 1, 1885, full of
years and full of honours, he died quietly at Folkestone, where he had
gone for the sake of his health.
In this sketch attention has been drawn to his labours rather than to
his honours. He might have had plenty of the latter if he had wished. He
received the Freedom of the City of London and of other great towns.
Twice he was offered the Garter, and he only accepted the second offer
on Lord Palmerston's urgent request that he should treat it as a tribute
to the importance of social work. Three times he was offered a seat in
the Cabinet, but he refused each time, because official position would
fetter his special work. He kept aloof from party politics, and was only
roused when great principles were at stake. Few of the leading
politicians satisfied him. Peel seemed too cautious, Gladstone too
subtle, Disraeli too insincere. It was the simplicity and kindliness of
his relative Palmerston that won his heart, rather than confidence in
his policy at home or abroad. The House of Commons suited him better
than the colder atmosphere of the House of Lords; but in neither did he
rise to speak without diffidence and fear. It is a great testimony to
the force of his conviction that he won as many successes in Parliament
as he did. But the means through which he effected his chief work were
committees, platform meetings, and above all personal visits to scenes
of distress.
The nation would gladly have given him the last tribute of burial in
Westminster Abbey, but he had expressed a clear wish to be laid among
his own people at Wimborne St. Giles, and the funeral was as simple as
he had wished it to be. His name in London is rather incongruously
associated with a fountain in Piccadilly Circus, and with a street full
of theatres, made by the clearing of the slums where he had worked: the
intention was good, the result is unfortunate. More truly than in any
sculpture or buildings his memorial is to be found in the altered lives
of thousands of his fellow citizens, in the happy looks of the children,
and in the pleasant homes and healthy workshops which have transformed
the face of industrial England.
JOHN LAWRENCE
1811-79
1811. Born at Richmond, Yorkshire, March 4.
1823. School at Londonderry.
1827. Haileybury I.C.S. College.
1829. Goes out to India as a member of Civil Service.
1831. Delhi.
1834. P[=a]n[=i]pat.
1836. Et[=a]wa.
1840-2. Furlough and marriage to Harriette Hamilton.
1844. Collector and Magistrate of Delhi and P[=a]n[=i]pat.
1845. First Sikh War.
1846. Governor of J[=a]landhar Do[=a]b.
1848. Second Sikh War.
1849. Lord Dalhousie annexes Punjab. Henry and John Lawrence members
of Punjab Board.
1852-3. New Constitution. John Lawrence, Chief Commissioner of Punjab.
1856. Oudh annexed. Henry Lawrence first Governor.
1857. Indian Mutiny. Death of Henry Lawrence at Lucknow (July). Punjab
secured. Delhi retaken (September).
1858-9. Baronetcy; G.C.B. Return to England.
1864. Governor-General of India. Irrigation. Famine relief.
1869. Return to England. Peerage.
1870. Chairman of London School Board.
1876. Failure of eyesight.
1879. Death in London, June 27.
JOHN LAWRENCE
INDIAN ADMINISTRATOR
The north of Ireland and its Scoto-Irish stock has given birth to some
of the toughest human material that our British Isles have produced. Of
this stock was John Wesley, who at the age of eighty-five attributed his
good health to rising every day at four and preaching every day at
five. Of this was Arthur Wellesley, who never knew defeat and 'never
lost a British gun'. Of this was Alexander Lawrence, sole survivor among
the officers of the storming party at Seringapatam, who lived to rear
seven stout sons, five of whom went out to service in India, two at
least to win imperishable fame. His wife, a Miss Knox, came also from
across the sea; and, if the evidence fails to prove Mr. Bosworth Smith's
statement that she was akin to the great Reformer, she herself was a
woman of strong character and great administrative talent. When we
remember John Lawrence's parentage, we need not be surprised at the
character which he bore, nor at the evidence of it to be seen in the
grand rugged features portrayed by Watts in the picture in the National
Portrait Gallery.
[Illustration: LORD LAWRENCE
From the painting by G. F. Watts in the National Portrait Gallery]
Of these parents John Laird Mair Lawrence was the fourth surviving son,
one boy, the eldest, having died in infancy. He owed the accident of his
birth in an English town to his father's regiment being quartered at the
time in Yorkshire, his first schooling at Bristol to his father's
residence at Clifton; but when he was twelve years old, he followed his
elder brothers to Londonderry, where his maternal uncle, the Rev. James
Knox, was Headmaster of the Free Grammar School, situated within the
walls of that famous Protestant fortress. It was a rough school, of
which the Lawrence brothers cherished few kindly recollections. It is
difficult to ascertain what they learnt there: perhaps the grim
survivals of the past, town-walls, bastions, and guns, made the deepest
impression upon them. John's chief friend at school was Robert
Montgomery, whom, many years later, he welcomed as a sympathetic
fellow-worker in India; and the two boys continued their education
together at Wraxall in Wiltshire, to which they were transferred in
1825. Here John spent two years, working at his books by fits and
starts, and finding an outlet for his energy in climbing, kite-flying,
and other unconventional amusements, and then his turn came to profit by
the goodwill of a family friend, who was an influential man and a
director of the East India Company. To this man, John Huddlestone by
name, his brothers Alexander and George owed their commissions in the
Indian cavalry, while Henry had elected for the artillery. John hoped
for a similar favour, but was offered, in its place, a post in the
Indian Civil Service. This was a cruel disappointment to him as he had
set his heart on the army. In fact he was only reconciled to the
prospect by the influence of his eldest sister Letitia, who held a
unique place as the family counsellor now and throughout her life.
When he sailed first for India at the age of eighteen, John Lawrence had
done little to give promise of future distinction. He had strong
attachments to his mother and sister; outside the family circle he was
not eager to make new friends. In his work and in his escapades he
showed an independent spirit, and seemed to care little what others
thought of him; even at Haileybury, at that time a training-school for
the service of the East India Company, he was most irregular in his
studies, though he carried off several prizes; and he seems to have
impressed his fellows rather as an uncouth person who preferred mooning
about the college, or rambling alone through the country-side, to
spending his days in the pursuits which they esteemed.
When the time came for John Lawrence to take up his work, his brother
Henry, his senior by five years, was also going out to India to rejoin
his company of artillery, and the brothers sailed together. John had to
spend ten weary months in Calcutta learning languages, and was very
unhappy there. Ill-health was one cause; another was his distaste for
strangers' society and his longing for home; it was only the definite
prospect of work which rescued him from despondency. He applied for a
post at Delhi; and, as soon as this was granted, he was all eagerness to
leave Calcutta. But he had used the time well in one respect: he had
acquired the power of speaking Persian with ease and fluency, and this
stood him in good stead in his dealings with the princes and the
peasants of the northern races, whose history he was to influence in the
coming years.
Delhi has been to many Englishmen besides John Lawrence a city of
absorbing interest. It had even then a long history behind it, and its
history, as we in the twentieth century know, is by no means finished
yet. It stands on the Jumna, the greatest tributary of the Ganges, at a
point where the roads from the north-west reach the vast fertile basin
of these rivers, full in the path of an invader. Many races had swept
down on it from the mountain passes before the English soldiery appeared
from the south-east; its mosques, its palaces, its gates, recall the
memory of many princes and conquerors. At the time of Lawrence's arrival
it was still the home of the heir of Akbar and Aurangzeb, the last of
the great Mughals. The dynasty had been left in 1804, after the wars of
Lord Wellesley, shorn of its power, but not robbed of its dignity or
riches. As a result it had degenerated into an abuse of the first order,
since all the scoundrels of the district infested the palace and preyed
upon its owner, who had no work to occupy him, no call of duty to rouse
him from sloth and sensuality. The town was filled with a turbulent
population of many different tribes, and the work of the European
officials was exacting and difficult. But at the same time it gave
unique opportunities for an able man to learn the complexity of the
Indian problem; and the knowledge which John Lawrence acquired there
proved of incalculable value to him when he was called to higher posts.
At Delhi he was working as an assistant to the Resident, one of a staff
of four or five, with no independent authority. But in 1834 he was given
temporary charge of the district of P[=a]n[=i]pat, fifty miles to the
north, and it is here that we begin to get some measure of the man and
his abilities. The place was the scene of more than one famous battle in
the past; armies of Mughals and Persians and Mar[=a]th[=i]s had swept
across its plains. Its present inhabitants were J[=a]ts, a race widely
extended through the eastern Punjab and the western part of the province
of Agra. Originally invaders from the north, they espoused the religions
of those around them, some Brahman, some Muhammadan, some Sikh, and
settled down as thrifty industrious peasants; though inclined to
peaceful pursuits, they still preserved some strength of character and
were the kind of people among whom Lawrence might hope to enjoy his
work. The duties of the magistrate are generally divided into judicial
and financial. But, as an old Indian official more exhaustively stated
it: 'Everything which is done by the executive government is done by the
Collector in one or another of his capacities--publican, auctioneer,
sheriff, road-maker, timber-dealer, recruiting sergeant, slayer of wild
beasts, bookseller, cattle-breeder, postmaster, vaccinator, discounter
of bills, and registrar.' It is difficult to see how one can bring all
these departments under two headings; it is still more difficult to see
how such diverse demands can possibly be met by a single official,
especially by one little over twenty years of age coming from a distant
country. No stay-at-home fitting himself snugly into a niche in the
well-manned offices of Whitehall can expect to see his powers develop so
rapidly or so rapidly collapse (whichever be his fate) as these solitary
outposts of our empire, bearing, Atlas-like, a whole world on their
shoulders.
With John Lawrence, fortunately, there was no question of collapse till
many years of overwork broke down his physical strength. He grappled
with the task like a giant, passing long days in his office or in the
saddle, looking into everything for himself, laying up stores of
knowledge about land tenure and agriculture, training his judgement to
deal with the still more difficult problem of the workings of the
Oriental mind. He had no friends or colleagues of his own at hand; and
when the day's work was done he would spend his evenings holding an
informal durbar outside his tent, chatting with all and sundry of the
natives who happened to be there. The peoples of India are familiar with
pomp and outward show such as we do not see in the more prosaic west;
but they also know a man when they see one. And this young man with the
strongly-marked features, curt speech, and masterful manner, sitting
there alone in shirt-sleeves and old trousers as he listened to their
tales, was an embodiment of the British rule which they learnt to
respect--if not to love--for the solid benefits which it conferred upon
them. He had an element of hardness in him; by many he was thought to be
unduly harsh at different periods of his life; but he spared no trouble
to learn the truth, he was inflexibly just in his decisions, and his
reputation spread rapidly throughout the district. In cases of genuine
need he could be extremely kind and generous; but he did not lavish
these qualities on the first comer, nor did he wear his heart upon his
sleeve. His informal ways and unconventional dress were a bugbear to
some critics; his old waywardness and love of adventure was still alive
in him, and he thoroughly enjoyed the more irregular sides of his work.
Mr. Bosworth Smith has preserved some capital stories of the crimes with
which he had to deal, and how the young collector took an active part in
arresting the criminals--stories which some years later the future
Viceroy dictated to his wife.
But, after two years thus spent in constant activity and ever-growing
mastery of his work, he had to come down in rank; the post was filled by
a permanent official, and John Lawrence returned to the Delhi staff as
an assistant.
He soon received other 'acting appointments' in the neighbourhood of
Delhi, one of which at Et[=a]wa gave him valuable experience in dealing
with the difficult revenue question. The Government was in the habit of
collecting the land tax from the 'ryot' or peasant through a class of
middle-men called 'talukd[=a]rs',[17] who had existed under the native
princes for a long time. Borrowing perhaps from western ideas, the
English had regarded the latter as landowners and the peasants as mere
tenants; this had often caused grave injustice to the latter, and the
officials now desired to revise the settlement in order to put all
classes on a fair footing. In this department Robert Bird was supreme,
and under his direction John Lawrence and others set themselves to
measure out areas, to record the nature of the various soils, and to
assess rents at a moderate rate. Still this was dull work compared to
the planning of practical improvements and the conviction of dangerous
criminals; and as, towards the end of 1839, Lawrence was struck down by
a bad attack of fever, he was not sorry to be ordered home on long leave
and to revisit his native land. He had been strenuously at work for ten
years on end and he had well earned a holiday.
[Note 17: 'Talukd[=a]r' in the north-west, 'zam[=i]nd[=a]r' in
Bengal.]
His father was now dead, and his favourite sister married, but of his
mother he was for many years the chief support, contributing liberally
of his own funds and giving his time and judgement to managing what the
brothers put together for that purpose. In 1840 he was travelling both
in Scotland and Ireland; and it was near Londonderry that he met his
future wife, daughter of the Rev. Richard Hamilton, who, besides being
rector of his parish, was an active justice of the peace. He met her
again in the following summer, and they were married on August 26, 1841.
Their life together was a tale of unbroken happiness, which was only
ended by his death. A long tour on the Continent was followed by a
severe illness, which threatened to forbid all prospect of work in
India. However, by the end of that summer he had recovered his health
enough to contemplate returning, and in October, 1842, he set sail to
spend another sixteen years in labouring in India.
In 1843 he resumed work at Delhi, holding temporary posts till the end
of 1844, when he became in his own right Collector and Magistrate of
Delhi and P[=a]n[=i]pat. This time his position, besides involving much
familiar work, threw him in the way of events of wider interest. Lord
Hardinge, the Governor-General, on his way to the first Sikh war, came
to Delhi, and was much impressed with Lawrence's ability; and when he
annexed the Do[=a]b[18] of J[=a]landhar and wanted a governor for it, he
could find no one more suitable than the young magistrate, who had so
swiftly collected 4,000 carts and sent them up laden with supplies on
the eve of the battle of Sobraon.
[Note 18: 'Do[=a]b' = land between two rivers.]