CHAPTER VI

AN IDEAL MILITARY SECRETARY

Dignity and Humour--Some Tests of Both--Affection of the Natives for Lord William--How They Tried to Please him--What Happened on a Slippery Floor--Some Tableaux--A Supper and a Race--What the Jockey Club Would Have Said--Lord Ripon’s Message to the Amir of Afghanistan--The Amir’s Reply--The Work of the Military Secretary--Swelled Heads and Outgrown Shoes--How Lord William Dealt with Them--Pay of Military Secretary--Compensation for Diminishing Rupee--No Fish to Fry

Those who knew Lord William will think I have passed over a very marked feature in his life, namely, his smartness at repartee and his endless jokes. I have forgotten neither, nor have I ceased to be grateful for the way he succeeded in brightening up the dullest parties; he carried sunshine and merriment with him wherever he went, and it was infectious. No matter how awkward a position he might find himself in, he always came out gracefully and smiling.

I feel that to repeat Lord William’s jokes, is to rob them of their atmosphere and merit. Jokes are individual things, and require such delicate handling, they must have their own surroundings and atmosphere; it is so easy to rob them of their bloom or kill them altogether.

Lord William was one of those rare people who found it possible to be serious in a funny way, which was no doubt an asset, though at times disconcerting for other people, as will be seen from the following narrative:

When on tour the Viceroy and Vice-reine held receptions answering to drawing-rooms in England, so that all the local people could come and make bows and curtseys to the representatives of the English Court. On one of these occasions a fat Irish lady, having made her obeisance, thought she would like to watch the rest of the show, so she and her daughters either stayed in the throne room, or returned to it, ranging up opposite the viceregal party, and began making audible comments.

This could not be allowed, and Lord William most politely told her to “Move on,” though I am sure he did it in a way that made it appear he was conferring a great favour, and with one of his most winning smiles. The lady did not move an inch, but stood her ground.

“Then, Ma’am,” said Lord William with another seductive smile and with the broadest of brogues put on for the purpose, “you’ll have to pardon me if I put my arm round your waist.” The lady, seeing that, whether she liked it or not, from the throne room she was going and thinking discretion the greater part of valour, “moved on” without the pressure of Lord William’s arm. I was not present on this occasion, so tell the tale as it was told to me.

Lord Bill’s face when anything funny happened, and he felt it behove him in his official capacity to be serious, was a study; and while he often witnessed strange happenings they never ceased to amuse him; his sense of humour never deserted him.

I remember one occasion when he must have found self-control difficult.

The viceregal party were on tour and staying in a big station where they announced they would hold one of these drawing-room sort of receptions.

_Scene I. (No action.)_

Large bungalow of chief political officer in the neighbourhood. Two large rooms and one small one opening into one another, the curtains which usually hung between the rooms to make them more private and to prevent people hearing what you are saying! being removed for the afternoon, leaving a free passage from the verandah on one side of the house through the three rooms and out into another verandah at the other side of the bungalow.

All the furniture had been removed from the middle rooms to make it more impressive.

A roughly constructed and somewhat uncertain platform raised a little from the ground, covered with imposing red felt and bath rugs. Two deck-chairs or something of that sort representing the thrones.

_Scene II. (Action.)_

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Viceroy, who have learnt to pick their way, and walk with circumspection over hastily laid red baize and felt. Mr. and Mrs. Viceroy making polite conversation to their host and hostess admiring all the excellent arrangements made for their comfort. Mrs. Viceroy sits on her throne, Mr. Viceroy stands beside her, and the staff arrange themselves becomingly, one A.D.C. having been told off to receive and unpack the ladies on arrival at No. 1 verandah, another on verandah No. 2 to repack them, and say how charming they are all looking, that it is a day he will remember all his life, and so on. A third A.D.C. announces the names, which are handed to him on cards, and the Military Secretary introduces them.

_Scene III._

Arrival of fluttering ladies on verandah No. 1. Many never having attended a drawing-room at home, are very anxious about their curtseys. First lady, who has been practising various kinds of curtseys and bobs before her glass for days, now forgets all about them, her one idea being to get it over. She shoots through the room and out the other side, her example followed by those behind her, like rabbits bolting in frosty weather from one hole to another, Mrs. Viceroy trying to keep time with a bow and a reassuring smile for each. The Viceroy bowing, trying to look pleased, but unmistakably bored.

Fresh batch of ladies, one starts with the wrong foot first, or something of the kind, gets out of step and turns round to begin, again hoping for better luck, but hastily stopped by Lord William, who explains in a whisper the rules of the game forbid any return. Mr. and Mrs. Viceroy pretend not to see or hear.

Everything going swimmingly, Viceroyalty beginning to think of tea and drive in the evening, A.D.C.’s beginning to think of flannels, rackets and smokes.

Enter elderly lady very nervous, makes a really profound curtsey, so profound she cannot extricate herself from it, and she rocks slowly backwards and forwards endeavouring to recover herself and get into her stride again. Lord William’s big blue eyes watching every movement (I felt certain he was betting on the finish), when with a groan the lady subsided backwards on the floor, her feet entangled in drapery and skirt.

“Fighting Bill” to the rescue, old lady picked up, her brow mopped, bonnet set straight and restoratives administered in verandah No. 2.

_Scene IV._

Royalty descend--mutual congratulations, Lord William and A.D.C.’s telling each other all about it in room No. 3. Enter whiskey and sodas.

But I must not be frivolous, as Lord William was a stern upholder of the dignity of the Court, and very properly so, only the “make-shifts” necessary for more or less impromptu ceremonies in India and foreign countries at times lend themselves to amusing situations; and why is it people always want to laugh more when they know they must not do it?

I remember at a big function at Simla, when Colonel Chesney was being made a K.C.S.I. by Lord Ripon. Lord William had arranged for a number of us to be allowed into the holy of holies to watch the ceremony. We stood round the wall like well-behaved school children. His Excellency was announced, small, rotund and dignified in flowing robes of state, and walked up a strip of the inevitable red baize to his seat at the far end of the room. There was a good deal of ceremony about the proceedings. First one official walked a few steps and bowed to the occupant on the seat at the end of the red baize, then, after apparently counting something to himself, advanced a few more steps and bowed again, continuing this slow mode of progress until within a certain distance of His Excellency, when more characters took part, and my attention was diverted to one of the bowing individuals who was related to me, which made me more sensitive to the fact that one of his silk stockings was on wrong side out, and with every waft of air caused by his humble obeisances, little fluttering ends of silk streamed out behind the happily unconscious man, who, buttoned tightly into much gold lace, was fancying himself not a little. Those little flags fascinated me, and I was certain not one of them escaped Lord William’s eagle eye. I looked across the room to where he was carrying out his duties, but he was as grave as a judge, and so was I, indeed I flattered myself I was behaving very nicely, until I heard one of the daughters of the Commander-in-Chief, who was standing just behind me, whisper: “Look, he has got his stockings on wrong side out.” I then felt, with someone sharing my amusement, I must laugh and disgrace myself for ever. Fortunately more important developments taking place we forgot to watch the fluffy bits of silk.

While being most punctilious about all things concerning his work, and the popularity of those he served, and in spite of his hard work, Lord William found time to amuse himself fairly well. I was at Government House one day when preparations were being made for a dance. Seeing the native servants deeply engrossed arranging a cosy dark corner, amongst some palms and curtains, I enquired what they were trying to do. They replied with many salaams that they were arranging a “Kissi Ka waste for Lord Brasspot-Sahib,” in English I suppose you would call it a quiet corner for two. All the natives were fond of Lord William, hence doubtless their anxiety to minister to his moods and emotions, arranging a little corner where a little kissing could be done in peace and quietness.

Speaking of dances reminds me of one at the Commander-in-Chief’s (Sir Donald Stewart); the floor was very slippery, and Lord William, while dancing in a set of Lancers, pointing his toes and doing pretty steps first to the right and then to the left, fell on to his knees in front of a huge old lady with several chins and tied in the middle with a string or what had possibly once been a sash, but it was hard to tell, being out of sight in folds of figure. Lord William, not the least disconcerted, crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head, saying, “Madam, I am at your feet,” and was up dancing again for all he was worth without a pause, as if it was all part of the game, much to the amusement of everybody present, especially the lady at whose feet he fell, for she was a jolly cheery soul.

Among the enterprising things Lord William did in India was the overhauling and setting on its feet the Amateur Dramatic Club, which was on the verge of bankruptcy when he applied himself to re-establishing it on a firmer basis; now it is one of the soundest undertakings in India, with a stock of excellent scenery, library, and large wardrobe. Always anxious to provide amusement for the folk at Simla, he considered it would be a pity to allow such a useful institution to fall on evil days, so with his usual generosity he advanced the money to pay off the most pressing of the club’s debts, and from that day to the present time the club has never looked behind it and has now become the fashion. Every season theatricals take place there, all the rank and fashion taking part or scrambling for seats to watch the performances. Having firmly placed the club on its feet Lord William retired from the management, only keeping a first claim on one of the boxes. Invitations to the little suppers he instituted in the theatre after the performances were much sought after, their fame had spread far and wide, both for the good things he provided and for their cheeriness.

One year some tableaux were got up in the theatre, the money collected for seats being given to some charity connected with sick children. Lord William loved small bairns and they loved him. I remember at these particular tableaux I represented Charlotte Corday going to execution for the murder of Marat; my executioners were Lord William Beresford and Captain Donald Stewart, a brother officer of my husband’s in the 92nd Gordon Highlanders; we had many rehearsals both for this tableau and others, but the despair of the stage manager was great over the Corday scene, as the executioners always ended in romping. Well do I remember their both rolling about the floor trying to execute one another instead of Charlotte Corday. The manager would become almost tearful in his entreaties to them to “behave themselves.” They would then get up, shake themselves, saying to one another, “Now no more nonsense, Donny, we must behave ourselves”; and Captain Stewart would reply, “Now do shut up, Bill, and let us get to business,” but their good resolutions did not last long, they were soon stabbing, wrestling and tickling one another again and rolling about on the floor. I began to wonder what would really happen when the day arrived to appear before the public, but in spite of having had no proper rehearsals when the fateful moment came they behaved splendidly, but directly they were off the stage and behind the scenes began again.

When the whole performance was over, the staff gave a supper in the theatre to those they wished to invite who had taken part in the tableaux. A merry evening followed. As soon as all had refreshed themselves, someone suggested a steeplechase over the tables and chairs; forms were quickly turned upside-down, and chairs built up into fences. There was some fun while the would-be riders chose their mounts. At last all was settled, and we women packed ourselves away in one corner of the room to act as audience. I am afraid if the Jockey Club had witnessed that race none of the riders would ever again have been granted licences, for they out-jockeyed each other, crossing and trying to pull the riders off their mounts. There were some resounding and shocking spills, but nobody cared, and the race waxed fast and furious, being won eventually by Captain Donald Stewart, a great big fine mount, ridden, if my memory may be relied upon, by Captain Des Voeux of the Carabineers or Captain Roddy Owen. The appearance of these sportsmen at the end of the race baffles description, their hair, which in some cases had answered for reins, was hanging in disordered wisps, collars reclining on shoulders, clothes dusty, dirty shiny faces, and all weak with laughter.

This was the lighter side of what was taking place during the early part of Lord Ripon’s reign. He, meanwhile, was giving anxious thought to the conclusion of the second Afghan campaign, having been sent out with instructions to reverse Lord Lytton’s policy and terminate the war as speedily as possible. Kandahar, which the latter had intended to hold, was given up, and the whole of Afghanistan secured to the Amir Abdul Rahman.

The following, poem shall I call it, appeared about this time in one of the Indian papers signed “Bala.” A cutting of it was given to me, but I do not know from what paper, so cannot ask for permission to reproduce it, and can only trust I may be forgiven.

THE VICEROY’S MESSAGE AND THE AMIR’S REPLY

George Samuel, Marquis of Ripon, to the Afghan Chief wrote he, “God made me Viceroy of India, and thou knowest what I made thee, You rule by my will and pleasure, I care not to flatter or bribe, One pledge or promise I ask of thee; I pardon if all men know That up to this time thou hast not done much to prove thee our friend or foe. For the Russian is closing upon you, our faith in his promise is dead, He is massing his troops on your border, and is eager to push on ahead. Sharp is the word with the Muscovite, whose will is to plunder and spoil, His covetous eye is on India, and eke on your God-granted soil. Now while he stands for a moment still, there is only one thing to be done, I must send a commission to meet him, to show where your boundaries run, And you must promise safe escort (we know what the Afghans are!) And prove yourself friend to the English, and foe to the Russian Czar. So choose thou of all my civilians, or choose thou of all my host, One man to lead the commission, whom ever thou trustest most. Whom thy tribes have known and trusted, to pass through in safety and peace, And so shall thy borders be measured, and our feud with the Russians shall cease.”

The Afghan Chief wrote answer: “You English are cunning and deep! But I’d ask if you’ve ever succeeded in catching a weasel asleep? I know what will come of commissions--just what became of your Embassy, You harried us well four years ago, and I keep good memory. Here stands my Cabul city, here I dwell by your favour at rest, But the tribes of my frontier are evil, and know no respect for a guest: If your commission needs a safe escort on the oath of a trusted friend, I have not the means to protect them. But whom will the Viceroy send? Wilt thou send the poet, Sir A. F. D., the man who advised the last war? He is safer, I ween, on the Naini Tal lake than he would be near Kandahar. Wilt thou send little Bobs--the Bahadur? He is trusted and honoured, I know, But he’s cooling his heels at Ootacamund, and doesn’t seem anxious to go. Shall I ask for the man with the ringlets? the virtuous lovely L--p--l, He is living at home at his ease, writing books, and he has grown a great swell. Where is the chief McG----gr to pledge me the word of his clan? He is there on the pine-clad highlands, a highly-paid, well-placed man. He is shelved with the rest, all promoted they enjoy the reward of the great. Will they come now those I have chosen? I watch for their face and wait, For the bright light shines on promotion, and dark is the downward track, And the Simla hills ring an echo of voices that hold them back. Let the commission stay on the mountain and start as thy message said, When the Amir sends a safe escort--when the Kalends of Greece are sped.” “BALA.”

This effusion is amusing no matter how it scans.

Lord Ripon was also called upon to decide grave questions arising between British and natives; he embarked at once on a very liberal policy. In accordance therewith the Vernacular Press Act was repealed, and among other measures, the so-called Ilbert Bill was introduced in the Legislative Council, giving native magistrates the same powers with respect to Europeans and Americans as British magistrates, but this aroused such a storm of opposition the measure had to be practically abandoned, Act III of 1884 being a compromise.

Lord William, having acquired a useful knowledge of Indian customs and feelings, was able to be a great help to Lord Ripon, who, finding the value of his loyal friend, very shortly appointed him his Military Secretary.

Major White (later Sir George White, V.C.) of the 92nd Gordon Highlanders, had been acting in that capacity from the time Lord Ripon arrived in Bombay, where both he and Lord William Beresford met His Excellency, but the work of Military Secretary did not appeal to Major White, who loved soldiering, and was not obliged by circumstances to do anything else, and feeling thoroughly unsettled when his old regiment was in Afghanistan, in the thick of the fighting, at last made up his mind to ask Lord Ripon to spare him for a time, at any rate, so that he might go and join them. This request being granted his work had to be carried on temporarily by someone else. When Major White returned he still felt unsettled, and shortly afterwards resigned. Major (afterwards Sir John) Ardagh succeeded him, but did not remain long; then Lord Ripon offered the post to Lord William, and the great moment in his life had come, he had now the opportunity of showing the stuff he was made of, a scope for his talents.

The work of a Military Secretary is not known to everybody, so I will try and explain it in common or garden English. When any big machinery is in motion it all looks very easy, but machinery requires much oiling and constant careful supervision to make it work satisfactorily.

To be a successful Military Secretary in a viceregal household it is necessary to be like St. Paul, “all things to all men,” for he comes in touch with so many different interests, acts as oil to so many different wheels. It calls heavily on anybody’s tact to carry out the work without friction. The duties are many and important, for he is the head of the establishment and controls it. The private accounts and correspondence are in the hands of the private secretary, all the rest is in those of the Military Secretary. The A.D.C.’s are under him, and he arranges what part each one has to play. One may happen to be musical, he will probably be told off to look after the band; another may be a connoisseur on omelettes and other appetising confections, he will be asked to look after the kitchen department. It will be the duty of one, whoever writes the most plainly, to keep the visitors’ book, write and send out the invitations; this is no light undertaking, for Viceroyalty have to entertain a good deal--it is a part of their duty. Some do it better than others, but all endeavour to fulfil their obligations.

It is in fact a miniature court and meant to be impressive.

The Military Secretary has four paid A.D.C.’s under him; by that I mean a staff allowance, which is in addition to their military pay they may be drawing in the usual way, the staff allowance being anything between Rps.250 and 400, possibly 500 a month, and of course they live free. I am speaking of the time that Lord William was Military Secretary, there may be a different arrangement now.

In addition to the four A.D.C.’s I have mentioned there were usually two that were honorary.

The popularity of a Viceroy rests in a great measure in the hands of his Military Secretary, hence the importance of having a man who understands, and is in touch, with the native princes and people, who has the table of precedence at his finger-ends, and is pleasing and courteous to all. Lord William excelled in all this, and one of the reasons why he was from first to last such a phenomenal success, was because he left nothing to chance, everything was carefully thought out, no hurried word of mouth orders, but everything written or printed and placed in the hands of those it concerned, some time before the orders and work had to be carried out.

Lord William was one of the old school who saw nothing amusing in being rude, nothing clever in hurting people’s feelings, and he would not tolerate anything of the kind amongst his A.D.C.’s.

It is not altogether unknown for young A.D.C.’s attached to the staff of Government houses to get swelled heads, treating everybody not in immediate connection with their household as canaille, unless of course they happened to be globe trotters with handles to their names, but anything of this kind was quickly suppressed by Lord William, who was kindly and courteous to all, be they princes, princesses, subalterns, Bohemians or what nots. Perhaps a little extra pleasant to a pretty face, and who will blame him?

Speaking of bad manners occasionally witnessed at Government houses in different countries, I have observed it is a way satellites have at times; while their superiors, like our Royal Family for instance, are unsurpassed for graciousness of manner, those in attendance on them are at times sadly lacking in those amiable qualities. In fact not only have swelled heads, but have grown too big for their shoes. One might think such an uncomfortable combination would lead them to see the error of their ways.

But to return to the Military Secretary and his many duties, which are enough to make the stoutest heart quake.

The Viceroy not being a soldier, naturally depends a good deal on him for advice as to military points of view, military law, and so forth. A really sound man can, and often does, influence the ultimate decisions of His Excellency, imperceptibly, of course, or his value would be gone. The work of the Indian Office also filters more or less through his hands, in fact everything requiring the Viceroy’s attention, while should there be any difference of opinion between departments, and any of them thought the Military Secretary was taking any part, or interfering, there would be fierce indignation and heart-burnings. So while all these delicate matters are being brought to the Viceroy’s notice by the Military Secretary, yet he must appear to know nothing about them, though quite possibly his advice has been asked.

Amongst other duties he has to map out and be responsible for the arrangements of all the Viceregal tours in the country, involving the railway journeys, allotting every hour of time each day and night for weeks and months ahead. The moving of horses and carriages, servants, and arranging for everything to be in readiness to meet the viceregal party at all the places where they are going to stay, the officials to be informed at each; levees, drawing-rooms, and receptions to be arranged. The native princes who wish to meet His Excellency have to be communicated with. Attached to these meetings there is endless work, as each Rajah has a certain code of etiquettes, a proper number of guns fired as salutes according to their rank. Some have to be fetched in state to meet the Viceroy; the Military Secretary, an aide-de-camp, and at times other officials having to drive to their palaces and fetch them, taking them back in the same way. These tours are looked forward to by the princes and big landowners of the country, as many of them have grievances and schemes to lay before the representative of the English Royalty.

It is difficult for anyone unversed in Eastern ways to realise how much depends on the forethought and experience of the person responsible for all these arrangements. It requires some tact to carry out all efficiently without a hitch, the least little error, even a molehill of a hitch, may mean mountains of annoyance and friction for His Excellency.

In all viceregal movements it is essential that there should be much dignity and show, plenty of colour and red druggeting. Ritual and observances are the soul of the people of the East. Established precedents have to be carefully guarded, a yard or two of less red cloth than usual might easily be construed into an indignity.

Then there are the presents to be thought of, which it is part of the Viceroy’s duty to dispense, and there is a certain amount of work attached to this, as the different political officers in each district to be visited have to be consulted as to what will be most suitable, and will meet with the approval of each recipient.

In addition to all this strenuousness, the domestic details fall to the lot of the Military Secretary; if a handle comes off a door he must see it is replaced, if a goat instead of a sheep finds its way on to the dinner table, if the horses fall sick or the coachman drinks too much tea, if a bath leaks, if more visitors are coming to stay than there is accommodation for, it is the business of the Military Secretary to avert inconvenience or disaster, in fact there must be no inconvenience or disaster, otherwise he is not an efficient Military Secretary.

In return for all this efficiency the pay of a Military Secretary is 1500 rupees a month, fifteen rupees being equal to £1, making about twelve hundred a year. In later years something was given in the way of compensation for the diminished value of the rupee, bringing it to about £1300 a year, all found, as the servants say.

Not every man possesses the necessary qualifications to enable him to fill this onerous post, for not only has the Military Secretary to mother the Viceroy so to speak, but he has to look after, advise and help Mrs. Viceroy, all the little Viceroys, their maids, governesses, butlers, coachmen and hangers on.

Lord William filled the post so satisfactorily that he was retained by three successive Viceroys; this speaks for itself. With the exception of Lord William I never met a really popular Military Secretary, there was always the qualifying “but” or “if,” but then the majority have perhaps had “fish to fry” of their own, which would bring them into ill favour with aspirants for the same frying-pan. It seems sad that the days of enthusiastic workers should be embittered by disappointment because promotion does not come soon enough, or someone else has forged ahead--then a few short chapters of life and we find “Finis,” and what has all the striving done for them? all the heart-burnings? Very soon their names are only blots of ink on pieces of paper, and probably these are put away in the lumber-room with other “forgottens.”

One of the refreshing things about Lord Bill was he was entirely devoid of any fish to fry for himself, he sought no high places, suffered from none of the discontents or scramblings after promotion or office that seem to have pervaded the lives of many great men, if we may judge by what we read of them, so he climbed no ladders at other people’s expense, pushing them down when arriving at the top, which gives such grave and not unnatural offence, leaving much bitterness in the minds and hearts of those who are feeling injured.

The two things in life which seem to cause the most unpleasantness are jealousy and class-hatred. Lord William disarmed both, it was not easy to be jealous of a man who asked nothing for himself, climbed over nobody, and who was so generous he would give away almost everything he possessed to anyone in need, whose pride of race only showed itself in honourable straightforwardness and unswerving singleness of purpose. _No_ class could hate him, he was hail-fellow-well-met to all, thinking no ill of any man, and having a clean mind himself was not on the look-out for unpleasantness in other people. He had learnt that most valuable lesson of how to handle humanity, which spells success in life.

No doubt there are some people who will say, “Oh! but he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, with plenty of relations and friends to push and help him.” Even supposing for the sake of the argument we allow that, does anybody imagine that if Lord William had been unsatisfactory or incapable he would have been Military Secretary for so many years? and not to one Viceroy but to three, all of whom probably held more or less conflicting views, likes and dislikes, each one in turn passing through anxious times and moments of perplexity, yet all without exception spoke of him in terms of great appreciation and affection.

Many have obtained good posts, not all have kept them.

Amongst all the successful personages I can think of, there are none who have had so few jealous enemies as Lord William Beresford.

Unfortunately everyone who has anything to do with that noble animal, the horse, comes in for a certain amount of criticism and occasional abuse; it appears to be the inevitable or natural sequence of events.