India under Ripon: A Private Diary

CHAPTER VIII

“In the afternoon I went out alone to return the visits of the Nawab and princes. The Nawab explained to me that he was a pure Turk (Turcoman) by descent, his family having come only three generations back from Samarcand, and having always married with women of their own blood. He was, till last year, a semi-independent sovereign, and he abdicated in favour of his son, and is now living on a small income at Delhi. He also told me that his uncle, an illegitimate son of his grandfather, had been hanged here in Delhi for the murder of Mr. William Fraser, he says, unjustly, though he evidently thinks it served him right for having usurped the greater part of the family property. He says that he got the property by bribing this Mr. Fraser, and that he was accused of the murder by the Government in order to confiscate the estates, which were very large. He showed me a picture of this uncle as a young man riding out with his attendants, and another of the Mogul Court, in which his father and this very Mr. Fraser figure. The old gentleman is a curious old-world type, with a fair knowledge of English, and the reputation of being a good Arabic and Persian scholar, as well as a sportsman and good rider. He has only one wife, ‘thank God.’

“With the Prince we talked Arabic, which he speaks better than most of the Indians, and he was helped in it by an Alem, his cousin by marriage, who spoke it colloquially. We discussed the Mahdi, whom they were delighted to hear me speak well of, and Arabi, for whom they expressed great respect, and Tewfik’s character, and the Sultan’s. All these things interest them extremely. The Prince is a cousin of our friend at Benares, and enjoys a pension of five hundred rupees a month. He lives in a little old house in the old town, and keeps a little old Court of old servants like his cousin. But he is a much more intelligent man, younger and better educated. He was immensely pleased with my visit, and has promised to take us to see the Kottub on Thursday, which is eleven miles off.

“This hotel stands on the ramparts, and is a really nice place, its proprietor a negro of Algerian extraction, but born in France and a Christian. He knows a few words of Arabic and no more, dresses in ultra English dress, has served as naval engineer on board Her Majesty’s fleet, and is more of a John Bull than anybody I know except Zohrab. His helmet is monumental.

“I may here note that I heard from Akbar Huseyn of a case in which liberties had been taken by an English official with a Hindu woman, whose husband’s relations, finding her ‘no longer of any use to them,’ killed her and laid her outside his tent. The case was taken up, and though there was no kind of doubt as to the facts, those who brought it forward were proceeded against by the Government as having brought a malicious charge, and were sentenced to a fine of one thousand rupees each, and three months imprisonment. My informant added: ‘They will never allow a charge to be substantiated against an official for fear of injuring the British character.’

“23rd Jan.—Ikhram Ullah brought us four Mohammedan gentlemen, with whom we conversed about the political position to be taken up by Mohammedans in India, and their opinion seemed to be that there should be more common action with the Hindus. But one of them was of opinion that the Hindus were impracticable, because they would not permit the killing of cows. He and Kadi Huseyn, a Shiah, talked English, but the Sunnis talked none.

“Later we went with Robinson, our black host, to see the fort and the great mosque, among the few wonders of the world. The mosque is far and away the finest mosque, the palace far and away the finest palace; and, except Madura, they stand together first in the universe. The palace is full of intense interest, for it was here that the great events of the last three hundred years happened, and in modern times that the last Emperor of Delhi, after the retaking of the city by the English, was tried ignominiously for murder. A dentist whom we met to-day tells us he happened to go into the hall of audience during the trial, and saw this last of the Mogul kings crouched before the Military Commission, dressed in a piece of sacking and a coarse turban ‘like a coolie.’ Here, too, the English soldiers slew and destroyed some thousands of innocent men in revenge for the death of about one hundred. The old Loharo chief assures us 26,000 persons were killed by the soldiers or hanged or shot or ‘blown up’ during the eight months following the capture of the city. The city was deserted, and whole quarters and suburbs razed to the ground. Such are the resources of civilization. The dentist says he saw nineteen men hanging together in one spot, and put the number executed at several thousands. I suppose no Englishman will ever dare write the real history of that year.

“We dined with the Nawab, his son, Prince Suliman Jah, and Ikhram Ullah, and had some instructive conversation. The son, Emir-ed-din Feruk Mirza, who is now reigning chief of Loharo, gave me an amusing account of how young princes were brought up by the British Government when it happened to become their guardian. They are taught to ride and play lawn tennis, and the Resident writes that they are enlightened and loyal princes. Then they are placed on the throne, but find it dull, and go to Calcutta where they spend their money. Then they come back and grind their subjects with taxation, and the Resident writes that they are barbarous and unfit to govern. Lastly, the Government intervenes and administers the country for them. He is a very intelligent young man himself, and his father complains of him because he is too old-fashioned. But I expect he knows better than the old man the ins and outs of our modern diplomacy. The old man is a curious type. During the Mutiny, he tells me, he remained in the city because he could not leave it. But he kept up communication with the English, and for this reason he was not hanged, as most people were, or his property entirely confiscated. It is quite evident to me, however, that, while expressing loudly his loyalty, all his sympathies are with the old régime. What he did not like about the mutineers was that most of them were Hindus. But Heaven forgive me if he loves the English. Things, too, have changed mostly since then, and it is my firm conviction that in the case of a new mutiny every man, woman, and child, Mohammedan and Hindu, will join it. The Nawab is a bit of a humbug, but I like him all the same. He belongs to a school which is rapidly passing away, the school which allied itself with the English Government from motives of interest, or sometimes out of a sincere admiration for some individual Englishman. All this is gone. The old men’s loyalty has become lip service, and the young men hardly conceal their thoughts. Nothing is more striking in India than the absolute want, at the present day, of native enthusiasm for any particular man. Lord Ripon had this till lately, but he is the last who will have had it.

“24th Jan.—We were to have gone on an expedition with Prince Suliman to the tombs of his ancestors, and the Kottub; but it has been put off, luckily as it turns out, for Colonel Moore came in to-day to see us from Meerut. I would not have missed him for much, as he is the only Englishman I have met who quite understands the natives, and sympathizes with our ideas. He is acting as bear-leader to the Duke of Connaught, where he lives in an uncongenial atmosphere, for he describes the Duke and Duchess as being of high Tory ideas about English rule in India, quite unsympathetic with the people. Even if they wished to see anything of them it would be impossible, for there is great jealousy on the part of the Indian Government.

“We talked over the whole situation in India, and agreed that it was impossible so absolutely unsympathetic a Government should not come into collision, some day, with the people. The Indians were the gentlest people in the world, and the easiest to govern, or we could not maintain our rule for an hour. As it was, they had only to combine against us passively to make the whole machine stop working. About Egypt, where he acted as Chief Interpreter, he gave us some valuable information. He knew the whole of the Palmer history, and had read the report whose existence the Government denied. In it Palmer stated that he had spent £25,000 on his first journey between Gaza and Suez on bribing the Bedouins. This money was secret service money, immense sums of which had been expended. He had seen and talked to Sultan Pasha, and described him as a ‘miserable fellow.’ On the day of the Khedive’s entry he had been in the streets and heard the mob cursing the Khedive and all his family, and cursing the English. He had refused to stay in Egypt, as, knowing Arabic, he did not like being perpetually insulted. On the other hand he was no Arabist. He had not seen Arabi, and did not believe in his patriotism.

“Colonel Moore took us round the city, along the ridge which the English held during the siege, and explained the strategical position clearly; and he showed the spot in the Chunda Chowk where the bodies of the King’s two sons were thrown by Hodson after he had shot them. He had taken them prisoners at Humayum’s tomb, and had promised them their lives, but explained that a crowd had gathered round on his way back to the city with them, and so he had taken a rifle from the troopers, and shot them both where they sat in their carriage. The King he had spared, and he had been sent to die a prisoner at Rangoon. It is a hideous story one side and the other; but what is certain is, that for every hundred English killed, the English exacted a thousand native lives, mostly of innocent men. So, too, the Bedouins seized by Warren in revenge of the Palmer murder were not those who did the deed. This admission from Moore, who, better than any man, knew the details of this business, is of importance. He said the official lies told about Egypt passed all bounds of belief.

“While we were sitting talking after our drive, a letter came, about which Primrose had telegraphed me some days ago. It was from Baring, delivering to me officially a message from Sherif Pasha to the effect that I should not be permitted to land in Egypt. Moore was much amused to learn how matters stood. I expect Baring is personally annoyed at all I told him having come true. On the other hand, Primrose telegraphs that Lord Ripon says I am at full liberty to accept Cordery’s invitation to the Residency at Hyderabad, a much more important matter to me just now than visiting Egypt. I look upon the university scheme as certain of success.

“25th Jan.—I have written out a ‘draft scheme of the Deccan University,’[12] and posted it to Salar Jung with a letter for the Nizam. I am satisfied with it. Also I have written a letter to Gordon about his mission to the Soudan, which was announced in the telegrams two days ago. I consider that he will certainly come to grief if he holds to the opinion he expressed to me last year about the necessity for Egypt of retaining Khartoum. I have a letter of Eddy Hamilton’s in my possession now, saying that he, Gordon, was considered in Downing Street to be out of his mind. But time works strange revenges. All this, with about a dozen other letters, I wrote yesterday.

“My letter to Gordon is as follows:

“To-day we spent in visiting the great monuments south of Delhi, in company with the Loharos and Prince Suliman Jah, who organized the expedition. We breakfasted at Humayum’s tomb, over whom our friends the Loharos said prayers, he being their ancestor, not Prince Suliman’s. It was touching to see this, and to notice a little offering of withered flowers on the tomb of a man so long dead. We went to the top of the monument. Prince Suliman, who is well read, or rather well learned, in history, gave us the story of Humayum and his dynasty, and pointed out to us on the Hindu fort the tower from which his great ancestor fell while looking at the stars. They brought him here and buried him, and his widow raised this pile, under which the rest of the members of his family lie. Thirty-five emperors and kings of Delhi lie buried, he told us, within sight of where we stood. Parrots were building in the chinks of stone; but there are guardians still of the tomb. It was here that later the last King of Delhi fled, and was taken by Hodson, with his two sons, while they were praying, and on the way back from here that he shot the young princes, our friends’ uncles. We asked him whether they had been brought back here to be buried, and he smiled sarcastically. They were thrown like the corpses of dogs into the street in Delhi, and none knows where they now lie. The King himself lies buried in Rangoon. From this we went across to the beautiful mosque and more beautiful tombs of other ancestors, and of a dead Persian poet, which we found decked with fresh flowers. Our friends talked all the while of these dead heroes as still living, and, when the young Loharo exclaimed ‘This country is full of poets and kings and learned men,’ I, for a moment, thought he meant at the present day. But it was of those under ground he was talking. The living people of the place are only poor guardians of the tombs who live on alms.

“With the Kottub I was less interested—though we climbed to the top—and mourned with our friends the decay around us. It is here that the bloodiest of all the battles between Hindus and Moslems was fought, 200,000 being slain. We talked of Tamerlane, and I denied he was a Moslem, but my friends warmly supported his character in this respect, and said he was a friend of the Seyyids, though they knew of his cruelty and savage conquests and his pyramids of skulls. But he, too, was their ancestor. With the Prince we talked in Arabic. He is a Shahzadeh through his mother, the daughter of the King of Delhi, and he is great grandson of the Emperor Akbar.

“Coming home, while we were changing horses, I talked to them of the university, about which they enthusiastically promised to busy themselves. It appears that Ikhram Ullah, being Seyd Ahmed’s nephew, had told them nothing of this scheme. They spoke strongly against Seyd Ahmed as a ‘nature worshipper,’ not a Moslem, and the young Loharo will get up the Committee here at Delhi. This visit took the whole day, and we only got back to our hotel at sunset.

“26th Jan.—We left Delhi for Ulwar. In the gray of the morning the old man, the elder brother of the Prince but by another mother, called with messages of farewell and a little box containing the Prince’s photograph, and some small ornaments, a present from his wife, which being of no value we gladly accepted.

“At Ulwar we were met at the station by the Diwan and the Mohammedans in the Maharajah’s employ, and were driven to the house of His Highness’s doctor, Dr. Mullen, an Irishman, and an excellent fellow, with a real knowledge of the country, and much sympathy with the people. According to him, Ulwar and Rajputana, generally, are very lightly taxed. The assessment made by Colonel Paulett is only one-sixth of the net produce, and the Maharajah constantly remits arrears. Of him he spoke very highly as a young man who did his duty well as a ruler, and as being an excellent judge of character. He also praised the Diwan. We discussed most of the political and social problems of India, and he takes rather an optimistic view of things from his experience being almost entirely of Rajputana. But he admitted that in other parts there was a very dangerous ill-feeling between the English and the natives, though he said they would never rebel again after the lesson of the Mutiny. I disagree with him here. On the whole an honest good fellow who does his duty and seems to be liked by all.

“In the evening we called on the Maharajah in his country palace, and found him with his Court, looking on at lawn tennis. He is very fond of horses and of sport, but it is difficult to have conversation of an intimate nature with a man in his position. Mullen tells me he, the Maharajah, was not highly struck with Laik Ali when they met at Calcutta, but that the Diwan thought well of his abilities.

“The Mohammedans of Ulwar are much in decay. Sheykh Wajidah told me that most of them are hardly Mohammedan except in name, dress like Hindus, and have no education. He himself is from Lucknow, and his friend Enait Ullah, the Commissioner-in-Chief, is also from the North-West. The Maharajah is very liberal to Mohammedans, but the community is not flourishing. They said they had heard of me as a friend of Islam, and were delighted at the university idea. They did not like Seyd Ahmed.

“27th Jan.—Visited the city palace, which is one of the most beautiful in the world. We were shown the library, where there was a splendid Koran, and portraits of the Emperors Baber, Humayum, and Akbar. The first two pure Mongols in face, with little slant eyes, the other a regular Brahmin in appearance, as he was in character. Also the armoury.

“In the afternoon we came on to Jeypore.

“28th Jan.—Jeypore is a less interesting place than Ulwar, and we saw it in a less interesting manner. The only Mohammedan I met was the hotel guide, an Agra man, who had been educated in the Agra College. He told me there were a good many rich Mohammedans at Jeypore, both Zemindars and in the Army, besides shop-keepers, forming one-third of the population. The chief Mulvi’s name is Sadr-ed-Din.

“We called at the Residency, dull people; and waited at home for a couple of hours before the train started, expecting the visit of Mir Kurban Ali, a member of Council, to whom I had written announcing our arrival. But he did not come, which shows how difficult it would be to establish relations, except through introductions.

“We went on through the night towards Bombay.

“29th Jan.—All day travelling through an interesting country not unlike Nejd, only far better wooded. The only incident, an English lawyer at the buffet asking me whether I knew that ‘Mr. Blunt of Egyptian memories’ was in the train. He told us a good deal about Hyderabad, where he has practised; was there when Salar Jung died, and had had an appointment to see him on business that very morning; was of opinion he had not died a natural death, though the Residency doctors had certified it was cholera, but no post mortem was made. Some had put it down to tinned oysters, and several persons present at the picnic had been unwell but recovered. Salar Jung’s collapse was sudden and so complete he hardly spoke, and left no orders or directions about anything. There was a great deal of talk at Hyderabad about the probability of faction fights, but he himself did not think it would come exactly to that.

“30th Jan.—Arrived at Bombay for breakfast. A pile of letters and newspapers. Gordon already half way to Khartoum, taking with him the ex-King of Darfour. He is sure to come to grief, and I hope my letter will catch him in time.

“Called on Malabari, who, I think, is a little ashamed now of the line he took about the Ilbert compromise. He seems to think they will never get anything now without something like a revolution, which is wholly my own opinion. Also called on Mr. Mandlik, the Hindu Government pleader, who holds the highest position of any native’s at the Bombay bar. I told him the Patna story. He told me he had often been insulted himself; on one occasion turned out of a railway carriage neck and crop between Benares and Allahabad. Every native in Bombay had been subjected to such incidents, and he mentioned the instance of the Chief Translator to the Government, promising to furnish me with proofs.

“1st Feb.—Finished letters, and then started by midday train for Hyderabad. At dinner, in the refreshment room, saw, for the first time, a native in his own dress. He looked rather shy and nervous, like a femme honnête at Mabille, and I asked him if he did not expect to be rudely treated. He said ‘Oh, they look at me, but I am not afraid.’ He was a Mohammedan tradesman, and before going he gave me his card. When I told him my name, he said he had heard of me through the newspapers.

“2nd Feb.—All day in the train, which was several hours behind time owing to the crowds of people flocking to the installation—everything at the refreshment room at Wady eaten up by the Viceroy, who is just ahead of us—flags, greens, and flowers at all the stations—finally arriving at 9 p.m., to find that Cordery and all his guests are at Bolarum, so that we have had an eleven mile drive on the top of the railway journey. Solomon and the luggage only turned up this morning, 3rd February, having slept out somewhere on the road.”

CHAPTER IX

“This has been a day of profit. We breakfasted at the Residency with the Viceroy, who received us very cordially, and then drove down to Hyderabad, where we called on the Clerks and Keays to get news. Clerk is evidently very much down on his luck, as he tells us Salar Jung is. They consider that Cordery and Kurshid Jah are carrying all before them. The idea of cholera in Hyderabad is all a ‘plant’ to get the Viceroy away from sources of intelligence. There has been no cholera, but Kurshid Jah cunningly chose, when his choice was given, to superintend the arrangements outside the town, leaving the internal arrangements to Salar Jung. His idea was that the Viceroy would decide the dispute about the Diwanship, and that the Viceroy would take Cordery’s advice or Durand’s; but I think he has outwitted himself, for Lord Ripon will leave the choice to the Nizam, and so in all probability it will fall to Salar Jung. Bushir-ed-Dowlah is in a great rage because the question of his precedence over Kurshid Jah has been decided against him. At first he threatened to leave the country and never return, but when he heard the news of the Nizam’s installation being fixed for this year he was pacified, as he believes the Nizam can reverse the decision. His secretary, Colonel C., told me this, and that when the news arrived he laughed ‘from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.’ And he, Bushir-ed-Dowlah, is also delighted at the birth of the Nizam’s son and heir, because it cuts Kurshid Jah’s son out of the succession. And so he has given up his idea of exile. Keay is full of a new letter he has written to Lord Ripon about the railway scheme, which certainly seems a famous swindle. I sent a letter by him to Salar Jung, begging him to see me to-morrow, and to send Seyd Huseyn and Rasul Yar Khan. The nuisance of being out here at Bolarum is beyond conception; and Lord Ripon has told Anne that he is much disgusted at it. Walter Pollen, who has to do aide-de-camp’s duty to-morrow, will have to drive seventy-two miles backwards and forwards in the day.

“We dined at the Residency, Anne sitting between Lord Ripon and Mr. Grant Duff, I next to Primrose, an arrangement made on purpose; and he and I talked the whole time. We began about Baring’s letter and my relations with Downing Street and the Foreign Office, about which I spoke with absolute frankness, as well as about my relations with Churchill. He said the letter had surprised him; and it is evident Eddy has written to him lately, for he said he believed I was for Halim’s return to Egypt. He talked with the same apparent frankness, and we discussed the advantage of telling the truth in politics. He assured me neither Lord Ripon nor he ever lied about public matters; the most he himself ever did was in the case of impertinent questions being asked him, when he thought a lie was sometimes necessary. I told him Lyall’s views on the subject, and we discussed Lytton’s character, and Dufferin’s. He asked me my opinion of Dufferin, and I told him I did not consider him at all a serious man; but I thought he would make, in some ways, a successful Viceroy, because he would take the Indians in with his good manners and sympathy and pretty speeches, but he would do nothing for them in the way of giving them liberty. He told me he had been in correspondence with Malabari; and that it had been touch and go work when the Ilbert Bill was compromised. Malabari had written to him very frankly on the subject, and he had shown the letter to one of the civilians, whose only remark had been, ‘What cheek of a native to write like that.’ I warned him not to try such tricks as the compromise twice; and he seemed quite to admit that it was a shady business, and that nothing but Lord Ripon’s immense popularity pulled him through. ‘Lord Ripon,’ he said, ‘was very near going down to posterity in India as a traitor instead of a benefactor.’

“We then talked about the Patna business, and he said inquiries had been made; but I told him it was useless making them through the civilians, and that Lord Ripon should send down one of his own aides-de-camp—and I suggested Walter Pollen—to hear their complaints. He promised as soon as they got back to Calcutta to have the inquiry properly made. But I must insist further on this. I got him also to take down Ragunath Rao’s name for Lord Ripon to see him as he went back through Madras, and Mandlik’s at Bombay. The latter, however, he already knew. I saw Trevor watching us. He was sitting opposite, but could not hear what we were talking about. Cordery, too, looks very uneasy. I don’t think Lord Ripon has talked to him at all yet.

“After dinner Lord Ripon came to me and took me aside into an inner room, and asked me my opinion as to whether the Nizam would speak frankly to him about his wishes, as he considered that these wishes ought to be the first consideration in appointing to the Diwanship. I told him that it entirely depended on his own manner towards the Nizam, and that if he took the Nizam by the arm, and spoke kindly to him and reassured him, and told him that no ill consequences would follow, and he would not be dethroned or deported or otherwise punished, he no doubt would speak exactly what he thought. I felt sure he had been intimidated by people here (meaning Cordery), and would require encouragement. Here at Hyderabad he was quite a different being from what Lord Ripon had seen him at Calcutta. I had seen him looking frightened here, as if afraid to speak. Lord Ripon then spoke about the difficulty there was in finding any one to advise the new Diwan for his good. All the English about him wanted money and things for themselves. I said that it required somebody who really wished well to the Hyderabad state, that I felt sure there would be no difficulty in making things go well if the will was there. I could do it myself, I was confident, if I only had time to devote to it. But who in the world was there? I then told Lord Ripon about the university scheme, and seeing him interested, said that I had hopes the Nizam would make himself its patron—indeed, I believed he had the intention of speaking to Lord Ripon about it—and hoped he would give it his approval. Lord Ripon said he quite approved of it, and thought it would do great good, and agreed with me that a religious basis was essential to all education, and he should certainly encourage the Nizam to proceed with it. He answered me, laughing, that he acquitted me of all idea of preaching sedition. This is very satisfactory.

“4th Feb.—It struck me, during the night, that Moore would be the man to make things go here, and I shall certainly propose it to Lord Ripon, that he should be appointed special adviser to the Diwan. At breakfast sat next to Primrose and Father Kerr, and afterwards talked to Primrose about Lord Ripon’s coming interview with the Nizam, and impressed upon him strongly the necessity of reassuring the Nizam, for I was certain intimidation was exercised on him by Cordery. I also explained my view of the action of the Foreign Office with regard to Hyderabad, how they had feared Lord Ripon might give back the Berar province, and so had connived at misgovernment in order to make this impossible. The retention of Berar was a cardinal point of policy with the Foreign Office, and they did not scruple about the means. We were then interrupted by Primrose being sent for by Lord Ripon, and while I was waiting till this was over, the guard of honour and band arrived for the Nizam’s visit, and we went back to our tent to be out of the way.

“Primrose told me to-day that he was in correspondence with Godley, but very little with Hamilton, that he had been quite as averse to the Egyptian War as Godley was: and I warned him that they must not think of sending Indian troops against the Mahdi, as the Mohammedans would be very indignant. (He said there was no chance of that, and that it had been a great question in 1882 how the Mohammedans would take the sending of troops.) But they had a great respect for the Sultan as long as he appeared as their champion; they would not listen to him if he went against them; they did not care much for his spiritual claims, witness that they were publishing my book in Urdu at Calcutta.

“The Nizam’s visit was announced by a salute of twenty-one guns, and I hear from Walter Pollen that after the ceremony His Highness had a long talk of over half an hour with the Viceroy, and came out looking much excited; so I fancy he has told all his thoughts. At luncheon were Bushir-ed-Dowlah and Salar Jung, and I sat next the latter, and improved the occasion, and had a talk with him also afterwards on the verandah. I told him of my conversation last night with Lord Ripon, and assured him that the choice of a Diwan would be left to the Nizam. This, he said, he had been told by Mr. Durand on his way back from Calcutta. But he asked me several times, and earnestly, ‘Are you sure Lord Ripon means well to us, to the Hyderabad State?’ I told him I was sure of it, but not of the Foreign Office. The Foreign Office and the Viceroy were two very different things. ‘Oh yes,’ he said, ‘we know that. But are you sure of Lord Ripon?’ I said: ‘Very sure, and I intend to propose to him to appoint some Englishman, whose duty it will be to counsel the Diwan, not in English, but in Hyderabad interests.’

“I then talked to him about the university, and he said the Nizam would certainly take it up, but not till after the ceremonies. He would not have time to think of it. But I urged on him very strongly not to let the Nizam miss the opportunity of announcing at least his intention to the Viceroy. He seemed surprised to hear that Lord Ripon should have approved the scheme, but said, if that was the case, the Nizam should certainly speak to him. I then gave him some good advice. I said: ‘You are likely now to be made Diwan, and so you will have, after the Nizam, the highest position of any Mohammedan in India. If you aspire to lead the Mohammedan world you must be careful not to offend their prejudices. You should hold a middle course. The general of an army does not go forward reconnoitring. He stays with the main body. This you must do. Be careful not to be too European in your dress or thoughts, or at any rate language, for this will give offence.’ He said: ‘It is hard for one brought up as I have been.’ ‘But,’ I said, ‘you must sacrifice something if you are to play a great political part. Don’t at any rate throw yourself too entirely into the Aligarh set.’ He said: ‘Oh, I don’t care about Seyd Ahmed. My father always used to say he was a humbug. He cared only for display.’ I said: ‘I don’t want you to go so far as that, but be moderate and be careful.’

“I trust that Laik Ali may become Diwan, for, under good guidance at starting, he may make a very good minister. I am sure he means well, but he is a bit childish, and his manner is not quite so good as one would wish. He has an abrupt way of talking, which strangers might take for rudeness; some have, as I know. I noticed that Cordery’s manner to him and Bushir-ed-Dowlah was not empressé. Bushir-ed-Dowlah was in high spirits. Salar Jung has not told Rasul Yar Khan of my arrival, giving as his reason that yesterday he, Rasul Yar Khan, being Sadr es Sadur, was occupied all day with the Nizam, praying with him on the occasion of his birthday. I feel pretty sure, however, that there was some other reason, and hold to my belief that he and the Nizam and Vikar-el-Omra were warned against me in Calcutta, probably by Stewart Bailey. His manner to-day was very cordial as in old times, but I noticed he seemed a little uneasy, as if watching to see who might be watching us.

“Father Kerr sat at my other hand at lunch. He is sad, having just received a telegram announcing his mother Lady Henry Kerr’s death, whom I used to know so well years ago at Huntlyburn.

“We stayed quiet all the afternoon, and dined at the camp, as there is a large official dinner at the Residency. I sat next to Mr. Lambert, the head of the secret police, who said he had heard from Primrose about the Patna affair, and was making investigations. I gave him an exact narration of the thing, which he did not seem to have had correctly; and he expressed unbounded astonishment at it, as an incident the like of which had not occurred in his twenty-one years’ experience. He would not hear of its being a common thing for natives to be insulted on the railways, and seemed even a little to doubt my accuracy. But I think I convinced him, at any rate, about the particular incident. As an instance of the contrary, he told me how Villayet Ali had written to him and asked for a special compartment for himself and friends to go to the Exhibition a little while before, and how he had willingly written to the station master about it. But the tale seems to me to prove, if anything, the danger natives run—or why should a special compartment be needed?

“At half-past 9 o’clock we went to the Viceroy’s levée, and Lord Ripon, as soon as he saw me, came to me rubbing his hands, and said, ‘Well, I have had my talk with him [the Nizam], and I flatter myself, at last, that he has told me everything.’ Lord Ripon did not say precisely what this everything was, but I gathered from him in our subsequent conversation, which lasted about a quarter of an hour, that there had been some ‘eye-openers.’ ‘There is no doubt either,’ he said, ‘about his wishes. He spoke them strongly and decidedly; and my opinion clearly is that they ought to be followed.’ I did not press to know whom it was the Nizam wished for as Diwan, for I shall learn that later, but I feel no doubt it is Salar Jung. I asked Lord Ripon, however, whether on the whole he had been favourably impressed by the young Prince, and he said: ‘Oh, very much so. He has ideas and opinions of his own. But I told him things which I fancy he is not likely to hear again, and which will be good for him.’ So I suppose he has given him a thorough good talking to about his morals. Lord Ripon was anxious to know, and asked me to find out if possible, what the Nizam’s own impression of the interview had been, and I shall probably be able to do so to-morrow.

“I then suggested to him my idea about an official adviser being appointed to the Diwan, whoever he might be, with written instructions to work in Hyderabad interests, not those merely of the Indian Government; and I expressed my opinion strongly about the Foreign Office policy in respect of the Berars. Lord Ripon would not admit that I was correct in my view of the case, but his protest was feebly made. The essential in any settlement of the Hyderabad problem is to remember that the Resident cannot be trusted to advise for good. What Lord Ripon said was: ‘Would not this be introducing new Englishmen into Hyderabad? It seems to me that there are too many already. I should like to make a clean sweep of them all.’ I said: ‘By all means make a clean sweep.’ I suggested, however, that Moore might be intrusted with the new duty, as a man who really understood and sympathized with the native races, and really wished them well.

“We were talking a quarter of an hour in this way, very much in evidence, and I noticed poor Cordery watching, and Clerk once even came up and interrupted our conversation. I don’t know what they can all think of my position here as the Viceroy’s adviser, in spite of the ‘Wind and the Whirlwind,’ and everything else. Indeed, it is a singular one, and it shows how strangely politics are managed here, and at home, too, for that matter, for I am going about with a decree of exile from Egypt in my pocket, no more nor less than if I was a proclaimed rebel.

“5th Feb.—A day to be marked with white. We went quite early into Hyderabad to the Clerks, where we had tea, and then went on to the Chou Mahaila Palace, which is the old palace where installations have always taken place, and where Mahbub Ali was this morning installed. The city was a magnificent sight, crowded with people and decked with flags, the people most of them sitting on the ground, and even some of the soldiers on duty so seated, as they used to be at Haïl. Everything was most orderly, with the single exception of one man, probably an Arab, who seemed to have been making a disturbance, for he had a sword drawn in his left hand, and was being led away by four or five others. We arrived at the same time as Cordery, and walked through the palace garden to the open hall where the Durbars are held. Here the nobles were assembling, and those officers of the English cantonments who had received invitations, perhaps one hundred and fifty of each, the natives occupying the right, the English the left of the thrones. We had reserved seats, Anne’s close to the thrones, mine a little way down, and I sat next to Lambert and close to Gorst. We had an hour to wait, but we occupied it talking to Rasul Yar Khan, Seyd Huseyn Bilgrami, and others of our friends, who were in fine feather, for our balloon has gone up at last, and at 2 o’clock last night Salar Jung was named Munir el Mulk and Diwan. The news began to be whispered round, though it seemed too good to be true, for, till the last moment, it had been believed that Cordery and the Foreign Office would carry the day. But it was soon proved by the arrival of the Peishkar, who came to take his seat next the thrones but was bundled out of it, to his confusion, and made to take his chair several places down. Poor old man, he seemed quite dazed, for it was the first he had heard of his disgrace.

“There was a good deal of confusion, too, among the nobles, and C. whispered to me that his Nawab, Bushir-ed-Dowlah, had fainted just as he stepped into his carriage, the news being brought to him that his chair had been put below Kurshid Jah’s, and so had gone home to bed. But the triumph of the Salar Jung party was crowned when he and Saadut Ali arrived with the Nizam, all three wearing yellow turbans in sign of their alliance. Salar Jung, I must say, showed considerable dignity and absence of visible elation; but the coup de théâtre to us who knew what lay behind the scenes was all the more striking. The Nizam and Viceroy arrived together, and sat down together on two chairs in front of the two equal thrones, and, after some announcement made by Mr. Henderson, who did the duty of herald, Lord Ripon made an excellent speech full of good advice and piety, though I was a little disappointed that he did not allude to the Nizam’s position as head of the Mohammedans of India, but perhaps this was thought indiscreet. Lord Ripon alluded, however, to old Salar Jung’s services to the State, and declared the policy of the Indian Government to be that of peace and goodwill towards the Nizam’s, and the encouragement of good government and progress.

“The speech affected me almost to tears, and it seemed to affect the Nizam, whose answer, drawn up for him by Seyd Huseyn, was almost inaudible. He behaved, however, with considerable dignity during the rather trying quarter of an hour when, seated on his throne by Lord Ripon’s side and girt by that nobleman with a new diamond-hilted sword, put on on the wrong side, he waited to be photographed, for such was the banal termination. Swords also were given to Salar Jung, Peishkar, and Kurshid Jah, the latter’s with an ivory hilt, reminding one of a large paper cutter, perhaps lest he should go home and commit suicide with it, for he must have been very angry. I hear the poor Peishkar was so utterly confounded that he walked home immediately after the ceremony without waiting for his carriage, and was picked up somewhere in the street by his servants, having lost his way. But this may be an exaggeration. Lord Ripon has a pleasant voice speaking, but his style is that of a sermon, which, however, suited the occasion, and all the Hyderabadis, except the disgraced nobles, seemed delighted with him. I believe this appointment of Salar Jung to be generally popular. But Rasul Yar Khan told me there were some who were not best pleased.

“Then we drove back to Mrs. Clerk’s, where the Commissioner-in-Chief and Sir Frederick Roberts were also invited to luncheon. Sir Donald Stewart is a dear old fogey, but with wits enough to appreciate Colonel Moore, and Sir Frederick is a gallant officer of the unostentatious, strictly professional type. I like them both. We stayed there the afternoon, and went in the evening to a great banquet at the Palace, in the new part of it, which is extremely handsome and built in excellent taste only about twenty years ago by an Italian architect. The illuminations, both in the Palace and in the city, and for miles round, surpass anything I ever saw attempted in Europe, even at Paris in the palmy days of the Empire. There were at least two hundred guests at this dinner, which was held in a very long hall. Anne was taken in by the Viceroy, but I had to shift for myself, and was fortunate enough to get hold of Seyd Ahmed, the Persian attaché and translator of the Foreign Office, an Afghan with whom I had a most instructive conversation. He had been educated by some missionaries at Peshawar, and is to a certain extent denationalized, but is a good Sunni, and seems still fond of his own people. He was employed in that mission to Shere Ali which was refused admittance to Ali Musjid. I asked him his candid opinion about the Afghan War, and he said he could not approve it either at the time or now, though Shere Ali had brought it on himself by intriguing with the Russians. He said, moreover, that any Mohammedans who might have pretended to me that they approved the war were hypocrites, for all were strongly against it. The Mohammedans of India were, nevertheless, loyal as a body, though not all. They were so from interest. He lamented the quarrels which divided them, and was sure I was doing a good work in bringing them together. If they only were united, and knew their strength, the Government would be obliged to do something for them. But they were far from united. He did not approve of Seyd Ahmed of Aligarh, though far from a bigot. He had been brought up an utter bigot till he went to school at Peshawar, but now his ideas were changed. He also told me he had travelled with Major Napier in Persia, and corroborated much of what Malkum Khan had told me of the Persians. He was of opinion that they were doomed to fall to Russia, they were so much diminished in numbers, only three to five millions in a territory as large as India. Afghanistan was far more prosperous. He would not hear of his countrymen being treacherous, except to Englishmen, who they thought were spies, or in cases of blood feuds among themselves. He thought I might travel safely among them, and the best way to go would be through Persia. He had heard Malkum Khan’s history, much as I had heard it from Malkum Khan himself. I met Vikar-el-Omra after dinner, who seemed in his old friendly mood. I asked him how he liked the new political arrangement, and he said he thought he did, but Salar Jung was very young to be Diwan. I believe his idea had been a council of seven, with himself as one of them. So he is naturally a little disappointed. I told him I thought the success or non-success of Salar Jung would depend mainly on the kind of advice given him by the Resident. We slept at Bolarum.

“6th Feb.—A telegram from Ferid-ed-Din begging me to congratulate the Nizam in the name of the Mohammedans of Allahabad and the North-West Provinces, and also a letter signed by some hundred of the chief Mohammedans of Patna expressing their confidence in me. I have written to Salar Jung with the first message to beg him to remind the Nizam of his promise to speak to the Viceroy about the university, for it appears that Lord Ripon told Anne he had expected the Nizam to broach the subject. But they seem lukewarm about it, and, if they don’t take it up more seriously than they seem now inclined to do, I shall wash my hands of them, and look to Lucknow as a better place. It would ruin the scheme to establish it here without thorough and determined support.

“We went to a review with Sir Frederick Roberts, and had a good deal of talk about Egypt and the Mahdi. There is a telegram to-day announcing a new victory and Baker’s flight from Tokat. It seems, too, certain that some at least of the Khedive’s troops went over to the Mahdi. This will seal the fate of Khartoum, I hope, before Gordon arrives there. But the military here all count on a campaign with Indian troops. I warned them, however, that such an adventure would be most unpopular with the Mohammedans of India, and with all classes of natives.

“We lunched with the Viceroy, but everybody was busy with the mail which goes this evening, and my only conversation was with Cordery about architecture. I feel that he is very angry with me, and no wonder. I hope Lord Ripon won’t leave him here. It is not in human nature that, having been foiled in his plans and forced to recognize Salar Jung as Minister, he should cordially support him, and less than cordial support will not do.

“There was another great banquet this evening, at the Bolarum mess rooms, given by Cordery to the Viceroy and the Nizam, and before it Lord Ripon again took me aside, and asked if I was satisfied with the arrangements he had made, and if I had found out what the Nizam really thought of the lecture he had given him. I said I was sure it had had the best effect, and later I made certain of it by asking the Nizam himself, whom I found exceedingly nice about this, and about the university, which he seems really interested in. He did not however, as I had expected him to do, speak to Lord Ripon about it at the dinner; but he will to-morrow, at a Council which they are to have at the Residency, and he has told Anne that he wants to have the university here near the town, perhaps at Serinagar. He seemed also immensely pleased at the interest taken in him by the Mohammedans of India, and if he is encouraged he is sure to go on well. I told Lord Ripon all this again after dinner, and again proposed appointing an official adviser to the Diwan, independent of the Resident, and Lord Ripon said there was certainly something in the idea, and I am to have a private talk with him to-morrow.

“Everything, therefore, is going on wheels. Seyd Huseyn Bilgrami, however, with whom I had a long talk, says the Government of India will never consent to such a plan, and asked me besides whom they could possibly trust to advise them for their good. I mentioned Moore, and he said he knew him and had a high opinion of him, but the Government would never consent. I told him Lord Ripon was capable of doing many things the Government of India did not like, and I have some hope the idea may be taken up. Otherwise we must get rid of Cordery. It seems Lord Ripon is likely now to stay out his time in India, which is a good thing, as it will give things a start. I told Seyd Huseyn I was sure, if they were going badly, the Nizam might write to Lord Ripon, or perhaps it would be better, on smaller matters, Seyd Huseyn should write to Primrose. I was glad to see Seyd Huseyn at this banquet of Cordery’s, as it shows his position is re-established. It is just two months since Cordery announced his intention of exiling Seyd Huseyn, and, in fact, gave him notice to quit. Of course Cordery is angry.

“Colonel Dobbs, whom I sat next to at the dinner table, declares the Foreign Office will not allow any official proceedings to be taken against the ‘Statesman’ for its libels, but that Abd-el-Hak will probably bring a private action. He also talked about the railway scheme, which he defended, but not, as I thought, very successfully. He said he thought there would be no greater loss than at present over the old railway, and it might be found to pay. He is a director of the old line, and attributed its nonpayment to the action of the Indian Government, which for political purposes had insisted, in opposition to Sir Salar Jung, on having the line run through an unremunerative country. All these admissions are of value from a man avowedly hostile to Salar Jung. Geary, editor of the ‘Bombay Gazette,’ sat at my other hand, and we had a deal of conversation.

“In talking to Lord Ripon I mentioned my disappointment at his having made no allusion to the fact of the Nizam’s being the head of the Mohammedans in India, but he said ‘We didn’t dare do that. We had to remember that though a Mohammedan prince, he has many more Hindu than Mohammedan subjects.’ I did not press it further.

“7th Feb.—We spent the morning at the Residency, looking over some colts which Ali Abdallah had brought for Sir Frederick Roberts’s inspection, and after luncheon I had a long talk with the General about Egypt, especially as to our military position there. I asked him whether it was not a mistake to occupy a country against the will of its inhabitants, instead of seeking their friendship. And he said certainly it was elementary in military matters to hold as little disaffected territory as possible. This was the mistake which had been made in Afghanistan. It had been his idea there to leave the Afghans to choose their own ruler, which would have been the best way of gaining their friendship. But the authorities had decided on having a man of their own choosing, and they had put up Abd-el-Rahman, and were now obliged to subsidize him heavily to keep him on his throne. I told him no amount of subsidies would keep Tewfik on his. He then asked me why Arabi had not defended the Canal, and I told him that it was from the idea he had that England would come to terms with him, and he did not want to offend all Europe. He said they would have come to terms if Arabi had won the battle of Kassassin instead of losing it. He then observed that he considered Egypt a very difficult country for us to hold, that it could be easily invaded from Syria. But to this I would not altogether agree, as there was only one road by which troops could possibly march, and that was not an easy one. I told him, however, I considered that the Power which wished to hold the Suez Canal should certainly look to its position in Syria, and we then discussed the best line of defence against Russia. I told him I thought the line from Scanderum to the Euphrates the shortest, and therefore the best, and I drew him a sketch map of the hills and rivers. He said he had been consulted about the possibility of holding Diarbekr against the Russians, but had come to the conclusion that it would be almost impossible now that Kars was gone. To this I quite agreed. Another advantage, too, of the line between Scanderum and Aleppo is that it fairly marks the division of the Arabic and Turkish speaking populations. I fancy, however, another line of defence could be found further south if this one would not do. I like Sir Frederick. He is a man without pretence, and I have no doubt a real good soldier.

“In the afternoon we drove to the Mir Alum Tank in procession behind the Viceroy, much, as we believe, to Cordery’s disgust, for he raised difficulties about the carriage, and certainly discouraged our going. But Anne had been particularly invited by the Nizam himself, and the Viceroy supports us openly. So we went. The Nizam was very amiable to us, and Salar Jung asked me to stay on a day or two and come to breakfast with him, and talk things over. We steamed round and round the lake for an hour, and then had our photographs taken in a group, where I figure between Salar Jung and Cordery—I have no doubt to his still greater disgust—just behind the Viceregal chair—Anne, and Mr. and Mrs. Grant Duff seated with the Nizam and Lord Ripon;—Vikar-el-Omra, Saadut Ali, Mohammed Ali Bey, and a certain grouping of aides-de-camp behind, one of whom was Walter, make up the party. This will be historical.

“We dined at the Residency, but went to bed instead of to the ball given at the Bolarum mess, for we are really at the end of our tether.

“8th Feb.—This morning, after breakfast, Lord Ripon sent for me, and we talked over the Patna business. I read over to him the strongest passages of the letters I had received about it, and suggested that it would be far more soothing to their outraged feelings if he sent one of his own aides-de-camp (e.g., Walter Pollen), than if he had the enquiry conducted through the regular channels. He promised to consider this, and, I think, will act in accordance. Next, I asked him to see Ragunath Rao when at Madras, and he promised to do so, and he took his address, and I warned him he was not in favour with the officials. Then I spoke to him about Gordon, who is reported in this morning’s telegram to have been captured by the Mahdi’s people; and I told him if it should be found necessary, I believed I could go to the Mahdi without much danger, and I told him, under secrecy, of the Sheykh I had met who was in communication with the Mahdi, and who, I believed, would go with me. But he said he feared the Government at home looked upon me with too much disfavour to think of making use of me, though for his part he should not mind recommending it, if asked his opinion.

“Lastly, Lord Ripon talked to me, though I did not begin it, about the position here. He asked me to speak to Salar Jung, first, about the finances of the country, and urge him to declare the whole deficit, or floating debt, at once. He had reason to believe it was a large one. Next, to recommend him not to quarrel with Abd-el-Hak, who, he told me, was strongly supported by the India Office, and was too clever a man not to be dangerous if neglected. It would be better—though I was not to deliver this as a message—to provide him with a place. It would be only prudent to shut Abd-el-Hak’s mouth. The railway scheme was powerfully supported at home, and he believed there was some exaggeration in the charge it would be on the Nizam’s Government. He thought it might pay. At least it was not certain to be a loss. I did not, however, understand from Lord Ripon that the scheme was approved beyond the possibility of disavowal, though Seyd Huseyn, whom I saw later in the afternoon, seemed to think it was so. Lastly, I was to assure Salar Jung that as long as he, Lord Ripon, remained in India, he would see that he was properly supported. What might happen after his term of office was over he could not say, but they would have a year, or thereabouts, to establish things on a firm basis, and ought then to be able to take care of themselves. I asked whether, supposing things were again going badly between Salar Jung and the Residency, he might write to Lord Ripon. But Lord Ripon said, ‘You had better not give them any such message. They are pretty sure to write without your suggesting it, and I shall keep my eye on the Hyderabad State, and shall be sure to hear if anything is going on wrong. I am glad I have been here, because now I know something of the people and the place, and I shall always take a deep interest in its welfare.’ I asked him if the Nizam had spoken about the university, and he said he had. He had expressed his intention in general terms, and apparently without understanding it much, of founding a university, and he, Lord Ripon, had approved, remarking only that he must count the cost, and not embark in any scheme which should burden the finances. I told him we wanted his patronage more than his money, and I promised to see that he was not unfairly pressed to contribute. Then I thanked Lord Ripon for his kindness to me, and took my leave.

“The party at the Residency broke up to-day, the Viceroy and Grant Duff going back to Madras, and we to the Clerks at Chanderghat. The Commissioner-in-Chief went yesterday, and Sir F. Roberts goes to Bombay. Cordery stays a day or two at Bolarum, and goes away, he told us, in April or May, to England for three months leave. This means that he will not return, and there is talk of Henderson as his successor. I don’t fancy him. C’est un grand sec—the ideal of the office man—not at all what is wanted. We lunched with Seyd Huseyn Bilgrami, who is now practically Minister, and had a long talk about the situation. He said he would certainly draw up a financial statement showing all the deficit, and that he intended to make it his rule to be quite straightforward in all his dealings, on the principle that honesty was the best policy. I told him, of course, that I approved, and that he must remember that the Hyderabad State existed on sufferance, supported only by public opinion at home. The policy of the Indian Foreign Office was one of encroachment, and, but for English opinion, they would annex every independent State; nor would public opinion protect them, except they showed themselves worthy of protection, I said: ‘In all your dealings show yourselves honester than the Indian Government. It is not saying much or asking you to do much, but this will be your best protection.’ About the railway he seemed to think there was no help for it; but he did not fancy the idea of having dealings with Abd-el-Hak. Abd-el-Hak was a desperate intriguer, and should be suppressed; he was not so clever as people thought; the letters he wrote were not his own; he was incapable of writing anything worth reading. They must make the best they could of a bad job with the railway; it had been imposed upon them with a view to ruining the State; it could not possibly pay more than its working expenses, and there would be a charge for twenty years on the State of £200,000, a tenth of the revenue. It certainly is an outrageous business. About the university he seemed to think there would be much practical difficulty, though he decidedly wished to have it here when I said that we did not absolutely depend upon the Nizam’s help. He promised, however, to read over the draft, and talk about it again on Sunday, when I am to have a conference with Salar Jung. Unless they take the thing up more warmly than this, I am inclined to think we had better look elsewhere.

“We had a discussion at luncheon with his brother and Cheragh Ali about the Mahdi, one or two being opposed to him on the ground that he was adverse to the Ottoman Empire, and on the more general one that ‘If he is not the Mahdi, he is an impostor; if he is, we ought all to join him’—a thing nobody seemed willing to do. The majority, with Seyd Huseyn, however, agreed that he was a Mohammedan representing Mohammedan interests, and so ought to be supported, and this is very strongly my own view. Dined at the Clerks’, and went to bed early.

“9th Feb.—Rasul Yar Khan came and spent the morning with us, talking over the university scheme, which he warmly approves, but warns me that it runs great risk of failing in the working out, and would have me keep the management in my own hands. But this I cannot do. He says it must anyhow be independent of the Government here. He will do all he can for it in any case. Also a poet, who calls himself the Bulbul of the Deccan, called with a complimentary ode in the Nizam’s honour in English and Persian. He says he can write poetry in seven languages, but his English verse is funny. He travelled, as a boy, with Sir something Binney in Persia, and is now Court poet here.

“Later we went to the races, and I had a few words with Salar Jung about the university. I told him, unless he was prepared to take it up energetically we should look elsewhere than to Hyderabad. The people of the north were determined to have a university, and if not here, would have it at Lucknow or Delhi. He spoke, however, strongly about it, promising to give it all his support, and quite admitted that the advantage received by the Hyderabad State would be as great as any it could give. I told him we did not need the Nizam’s money, but his patronage, on account of his great name. He talked of Kalbarga or Aurungabad as suitable places, but Rasul Yar Khan is for Golconda, as being nearer to Hyderabad and containing plenty of buildings. We are, however, to dine to-morrow with Salar Jung, and discuss the whole matter, and the day after at a farewell dinner with the Nizam. If I can bring this to a good end I shall have done enough for one winter. I doubt if ever a university was imagined, planned, preached, and accepted before in six weeks from its first conception. This, however, is only gathering in a harvest I have ploughed and sowed for, and watered with my tears, for almost as many years.

“I have spoken to Clerk about it, and he is strongly in favour of Aurungabad, where he says there are heaps of old buildings, and he introduced me to Mir Abdu es Salaam (Ferdunji, the Parsi Talukdar is the next most important man at Aurungabad), chief Subar there, who happens to be at Hyderabad, and who invited us to stay with him at Aurungabad. Dined with Seyd Huseyn. He showed me, before dinner, a long telegram dictated by Cordery, which has been sent to the ‘Times of India,’ and of which Seyd Huseyn has obtained this secret copy. It explains the nature of the new council here, which Cordery seems to have invented as a fresh dodge for pulling the strings. It also says the railway scheme is to be pushed on, and explains the reasons which induce him and Trevor to take leave this summer.

“10th Feb.—Another visit from the Bulbul, who has brought a copy of Arabic verses composed in our honour, and requests that we will forward to Lord Ripon a rhymed address in seven languages. I have corrected his English version, purged it, that is, of its most absurd blunders, but it still remains a highly amusing composition. He brought his son with him, a bright boy of fourteen.

“Seyd Huseyn came next, and we talked the university scheme over fully. He foresaw great difficulties of administration, which I have no doubt he does not exaggerate. But I think his real doubt was as to the reality of the support I am counting on in the north. This I was able to remove by showing him the addresses I had received, especially from his own town, Lucknow, which bear the signatures of all the great Mulvis. I put it, however, plainly to him whether he was prepared to support the scheme thoroughly, as otherwise I should not risk establishing it at Hyderabad, and he promised to do his very best, especially when I had explained to him the political bearing it would have, and the influence it would bring to the Hyderabad State. We agreed, therefore, to act together in this matter, and it is only now a question of details. He does not fancy Golconda, saying it is unhealthy, and that the buildings there could not be given. He thinks Serinagar far better, but all would have to be built there from the ground. I fancy he would like to have the thing under his own eye and management, as he was formerly professor at the Lucknow College. I do not, however, want the university to be too entirely under Government control here, as one never knows who may succeed to power. A Mohammedan university, unless guaranteed by charter, would run a poor chance in the Peishkar’s Hindu hands. Mohammed Kamil then looked in and spoke of the enthusiasm there was among the Mohammedans here for Lord Ripon, because he had saved the State from destruction.

“Lastly came Mademoiselle Gaignaud, the Salar Jung’s French governess, who told us a number of extraordinary things connected with Hyderabad life and politics. The late Sir Salar was the best and noblest of men, never said an unkind word or did a dishonest action in his life. All, even his enemies, respected him; and the old Emir el Kebir, the bitterest of them all, sent for him on his death-bed, and recommended his sons to his care. I asked her about Sir Salar’s own death, and she told me she had no doubt in the world that he was poisoned. He had not complained of anything till 9 o’clock on the Wednesday evening, the evening of the water party at the Mir Alum tank, and he died at a quarter past seven on the Thursday. On the Tuesday he had dined at the Residency. The symptoms were not those of cholera. There was no vomiting, except such as he himself caused by putting his fingers down his throat. He complained only of a burning in his throat and chest, and great thirst. After death his colour remained unchanged. Of the two English doctors, one said it was not, the other, Beaumont, said it was cholera, but no post mortem examination was made. She drew a fearful scene of the confusion in the Zenana on the occasion, and of the old minister being plied with potions mixed by two holy men, who wrote words in Arabic and Persian and Sanskrit on leaves, and made an infusion of them, the English doctors being only called in after 3 o’clock in the afternoon, when there was no more hope, and his pulse was gone. A crowd of women friends and relations, eight hundred of them, had collected in the house, and when they heard of the Minister’s death, for he died in the outer part of the house, they shrieked, and cursed, and screamed, and rolled upon the floor, tearing their clothes, breaking their bracelets, and behaving like mad creatures, nobody fully recovering her senses for a week.

“We dined to-night with Salar Jung. It was a merry party, no English but ourselves and young Hugh Gough who was brought up at school with them. Rasul Yar Khan was there, and Seyd Ali Shustari the poet, who made great fun of his rival, the Bulbul, and the son of a late minister of Oude, and Mohammed Ali Bey, and half a dozen intimates. At dinner there was a deal of fun made about the recent political crisis, the poor old Peishkar’s trouble at finding his chair changed, and his wandering in the streets afterwards, and Kurshid Jah’s disappointment, and Trevor’s discomfiture. Trevor knew nothing till the moment of the installation, nor was anything absolutely settled till 7 o’clock that morning, when the chairs were changed. Salar Jung told us he had had the management of everything in the city himself, down to the menu of the banquet, and had planned all the illuminations with his own hand, and the whole had cost no more than 22,000 rupees, while Kurshid Jah had spent, I think he said, four lakhs on what was done outside the city.

“After dinner I had a long private talk with Salar Jung, first of all giving him Lord Ripon’s messages and recommendations about the finances, about Abd-el-Hak, and about the promise he made him of support. All these he promised to respond to, and the more readily as Lord Ripon had already spoken to him about them, having taken an opportunity in the train after I saw him. Salar Jung spoke in the warmest terms of Lord Ripon, and I have explained to him the situation as regards English politics thoroughly, and he promises to let me know if new troubles arise, as also to give me copies of certain documents which it may be advisable to make public. He promised to follow the advice about Abd-el-Hak, and to place on record a temperate protest against the railway scheme, leaving the whole responsibility for the injury done to the Hyderabad State on English Government shoulders. We then discussed the character of the principal English statesmen; and he told me that Lytton had been especially kind to him when in England, and he thought very likely he might now regret the harm he had plotted to his father. I told him, however, to trust none of them; and I don’t think he will be easily taken in, either by Goschen or Dufferin, should either come as Viceroy to India.