Chapter IV: India (3)

'I never expected,' he writes (February 23, 1872), 'to be impressed by a mere ceremonial; but there were some things almost oppressive from their reality and solemnity.... The coffin was brought up on a gun-carriage. It was of enormous size and weight, (near two tons, I believe). The gun-carriage, drawn by twelve artillery horses, made a strangely impressive hearse. It looked so solid, so businesslike, so simple, and so free from all the plumes and staves and rubbish of undertakers. About thirty picked sailors from the "Daphne" and "Glasgow" walked behind and by the side; all dressed in clean white trousers and jerseys, and looking like giants, as indeed they were. They were intensely fond of Lord Mayo, who had won their hearts by the interest he took in them and in the little things they got up to amuse him.... He passed the last evening of his life sitting with Lady Mayo on the bridge of the "Glasgow," and laughing at their entertainment with the greatest cordiality. They wanted to be allowed to carry the coffin on their own shoulders; they said they were ready and willing to do it, and I believe they would have been able, ready, and willing to do anything that strength and skill and pluck could do. Behind them walked the procession, which was nearly three-quarters of a mile long, and contained every Englishman of any importance in Calcutta and a considerable number of natives. The whole road was lined with troops on both sides: but they stood at intervals of several yards, and there was an immense crowd close behind and, in some places in between them.... If there had been any other fanatics in the crowd, there was nothing to prevent them from making a rush and giving a stab.... If there had been any attempt of the kind, I cannot say what might not have happened. People were in such an excited and half-electric state that there might have been a general riot, which would soon have become very like a massacre. One man told me that on his way home, he felt possessed by such fury against anyone who might be connected with the murder, that he walked with a kind of charge through a group of people, who looked as if they enjoyed "the show," and gave a shove to a big Mohammedan who looked insolent, at which, he said, "the man went down like a bag of feathers." I saw some suspicious-looking fellows grinning and sneering and showing their teeth myself, and I felt as if I could have killed them. No one who has not felt it can imagine how we all feel out here in regard to such matters. When Lord Mayo was stabbed, I think every man in the country felt as if he had been more or less stabbed himself.

'The procession went on with the most overwhelming solemnity (nothing short of these words can describe it), till we got to Government House. There was a dead silence nearly all the way; the natives standing or squatting in their apathetic way, and the Europeans as grim as death. All that was to be heard was the rattle of the gun-carriage, and the tramping of the horses, and the minute-guns from the fort and ships. The housetops, the windows, the fort were all crowded with people, but all as still as death. I think the ships looked as sad as anything. There were two miles of noble ships in the Hooghly. Their flags were all flying half-mast high, and they had all "tossed their yards."' (He draws a rough diagram to explain the phrase). 'The yards are all in disorder, and the effect is forlorn and dishevelled to a degree you would not imagine. When we got to Government House, the coffin had to be lifted off the gun-carriage and pulled up a long flight of wide stone steps.... The sailors and a few artillerymen did it all in perfect silence, and with an amount of strength that looked almost marvellous.' The coffin was placed on a truck, to which the sailors harnessed themselves, and dragged it up an inclined plane (formed over the steps) with no apparent effort in spite of the enormous weight. It was taken along a suite of rooms, 'hung with black, and lighted with a curious simplicity and grandeur.' Here, again, the coffin had to be lifted, and 'it was most striking to see the absolute silence with which the men moved the monstrous weight at a sign from the captain's hand.' The only sound was when a spar snapped in the hands of a 'giant of a fellow, who was lifting with it. There was a respectful delicacy in every motion of these men which combined beautifully with their immense, quiet, controlled strength, and impressed me very much. After a few prayers we left.'

On Wednesday, the 21st, the coffin was again removed to the ship. The imprudence of the former procession had struck everyone. The streets were cleared and no one admitted to the jetty except the procession. 'You cannot imagine the awful solemnity which all this precaution gave the whole thing. It was like marching through a city half-dead and half-besieged.' Nothing was to be seen but troops; and, 'when we got into Dalhousie Square, there was a battery of artillery firing minute-guns, and drawn up on the road just as if they were going to fight. Two or three bands played the Dead March the whole way, till I felt as if it would never get out of my ears. At the end of the jetty lay the "Daphne." ... The sailors, with infinite delicacy and quiet, draped the coffin carefully with its flags ... and it was raised and lowered by a steam-crane, which, somehow or other, they managed to work without any sound at all. When the ship steamed off down the river, and the minute-guns stopped, and I drove home with Henry Cunningham, I really felt as I suppose people feel when an operation is over. There was a stern look of reality about the whole affair, quite unlike what one has seen elsewhere. Troops and cannon and gun-carriages seem out of place in England, ... but it is a very different matter here, where everything rests upon military force. The guns and the troops are not only the outward and visible marks of power, but they are the power itself to a great extent, and it is very impressive to see them.

'It gives a sort of relief to one,' he adds, 'that after all Lord Mayo was, in a sense, going home: that he (so far as one can speak of his dead body) was leaving this country with all its various miseries, to return to his own native place. If one is to have fancies on such a matter, it is pleasant to think that he is not to lie here in a country where we can govern and where we can work and make money and lead laborious lives; but for which no Englishman ever did, or ever will, or can feel one tender or genial feeling.[118] The work that is done here is great and wonderful; but the country is hateful.'

One singular incident was connected with this event. The murderer had been tried on the spot and sentenced to death. The sentence had to be confirmed by the High Court at Calcutta. It was there discovered that the judge had by some mistake recorded that the European witnesses had 'affirmed' according to the form used for native religions, instead of being sworn according to the Christian formula. Fitzjames was startled to hear of this intrusion of technicality upon such an occasion; and held, I think, that in case of need, the Government of India should manage to cut the knot. Ultimately, however, some of the witnesses who were at Calcutta made affidavits to the effect that they had really been sworn, and the sentence was confirmed and executed. Otherwise, said Fitzjames in one of his last Indian speeches (upon the Oaths and Declaration Act) a grievous crime might have escaped punishment, because five English gentlemen had made statements 'in the presence of Almighty God,' instead of kissing the Bible and saying 'So help me God.'

I must mention one other incident which occurred at the end of Fitzjames's stay in India. One Ram Singh was the spiritual and political chief of a sect called the Kookas. His disciples showed their zeal by murdering butchers as a protest against cow-killing. They were animated by prophecies of a coming kingdom of heaven, broke into rioting and were suppressed, and, as the Indian Government held, punished with an excess of severity. Although Fitzjames was not officially responsible in this business, he was consulted on the occasion; and his opinions are represented by an official despatch. I need only say that, as in the case of Governor Eyre, he insisted that, while the most energetic measures were allowable to suppress actual resistance, this was no excuse for excessive punishment after the danger was over. The ordinary law should then be allowed to take its course. Meanwhile, Ram Singh was shown to be more or less implicated in the disorders and was deported to Burmah. Fitzjames was greatly impressed by the analogy between English rulers in India and Roman governors in Syria some eighteen centuries ago, when religious sects were suspected of political designs. To this I shall refer presently.

Fitzjames attended the Legislative Council for the last time on April 17, 1872. He left Calcutta the next day on his return to England. He had thus been in office for only half the usual period of five years. His reasons for thus cutting short his time were simple. He felt very strongly that he was exacting a sacrifice on the part of his wife and his family which could only be justified by a very distinct advantage. The expenses were more than he had anticipated, and he saw at an early period that he would be in any case compelled to return to his profession. Gaps at the bar are soon filled up. The more prolonged his absence, the greater would be the difficulty of regaining the position which he had slowly reached. I have some reason to think that the authorities at the India Office were not altogether pleased at what they considered to be a premature relinquishment of his post. He could, however, reply that if he had been only half the usual time in India, he had done fully twice the average amount of work. He left India without regrets for the country itself; for to him the climate and surroundings of English life seemed to be perfection. But he left with a profound impression of the greatness of the work done by Englishmen in India; and with a warm admiration for the system of government, which he was eager to impart to his countrymen at home. How he endeavoured to utter himself upon that and kindred subjects shall be told in the next chapter.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 102: His first letter to Miss Thackeray, I notice, is written upon the back of a quaint broadsheet, bought at Boulogne. On the other side is a woodcut of the gallant 'Tulipe' parting from his mistress, and beneath them is the song 'Tiens, voici ma pipe, voilà mon briquet!' which Montcontour used to sing at the 'Haunt' to the admiration of Pendennis and Warrington. See the _Newcomes_, vol. i. chap. xxxvi.]

[Footnote 103: I depend chiefly upon the official reports of the debates in the Legislative Council; my brother's own summary of Indian legislation in a chapter contributed to Sir W. W. Hunter's _Life of the Earl of Mayo_ (1875), ii. pp. 143-226; and a full account of Indian criminal legislation in chap, xxxiii. of his _History of Criminal Law_. He gave a short summary of his work in an address to the Social Science Association on November 11, 1872, published in the _Fortnightly Review_ for December 1872. I may also refer to an article upon 'Sir James Stephen as a Legislator' in the _Law Quarterly Review_ for July 1894, by Sir C. P. Ilbert, one of his successors.]

[Footnote 104: I may say that he especially acknowledges the share of the work done in his own time by Mr. Whitley Stokes, secretary to the Council, by Sir H. S. Cunningham, for some time acting secretary, and by Mr. Cockerell, a member of the Council.]

[Footnote 105: _History of Criminal Law_, iii. 299.]

[Footnote 106: _Life of Lord Mayo_, ii. 199.]

[Footnote 107: _History of Criminal Law_, ii. 300-303.]

[Footnote 108: 'Obsolete Enactments Bill,' February 25, 1870.]

[Footnote 109: _Mayo_, ii. 220.]

[Footnote 110: The parties had also to be of certain ages, not already married, and not within certain degrees of relationship.]

[Footnote 111: See the account of this in _History of Criminal Law_, iii. 324-346.]

[Footnote 112: _History of Criminal Law_, iii. 345.]

[Footnote 113: _Digest of the Law of Evidence._ Fourth edition, 1893, pp. 156-9.]

[Footnote 114: An edition of the _Evidence Code_, with notes by Sir H. S. Cunningham, reached a ninth edition in 1894. It gives the changes subsequently made, which are not numerous or important.]

[Footnote 115: Sir C. P. Ilbert, however, is mistaken in supposing that Fitzjames wrote his _Liberty, Equality, Fraternity_ during his official labours.]

[Footnote 116: _Life of Mayo_, ii. 163.]

[Footnote 117: In _Selections from the Records of the Government of India_, No. lxxxix., published by authority. Calcutta, 1872.]

[Footnote 118: I do not feel that it would be right to omit this remark, although I am certain that, taken by itself, it would convey a totally inaccurate impression of my brother's sentiments about India. I have, I hope, said enough to indicate his sympathetic interest in Indian matters and the work of Indian officials. I must trust my readers to understand that the phrase expresses a mood of intense excitement and must be taken only as indicating the strength of the passing emotion.]