The Memoirs of Admiral Lord Beresford
I was of the hunting party, and I had the stiffest run of {165} my
life, and at the end of it there were left besides myself only my
companion--I think he was Mr. Greenwood--and six Indian notables.
Mounted on swift pad elephants, we pursued that tremendous beast at top
speed from four o'clock in the morning till six in the evening,
bursting through the jungle, splashing through rivers, climbing the
rocky steeps of hills upon which there appeared to be no foothold
except for monkeys, and down which the elephants slid upon their
bellies. So we rode hour after hour, hanging on the ropes secured to
the _guddee_, lying flat upon the steed's back to avoid being scraped
off his back by branches, until the quarry, escaping us ran straight
into Sir Jung Bahadur's party of horsemen.
There, in an open space set with sword-like reeds, stood the elephant,
his flanks heaving, his head and trunk moving from side to side. He
had one huge tusk and the stump of the other.
It was the business of the horsemen in front to keep him employed in
the open while the champion fighting elephants, Jung Pershaud and Bijli
Pershaud, were being brought up. Again and again he charged, the
riders eluding his rushes, the Prince among them. A stumble or a
fall--and nothing could have saved the rider. Presently the elephant,
wearying of these profitless tactics, wheeled and took refuge in a
swamp, where the reeds and rushes hid him. But there was nothing to do
but await the arrival of the fighting elephants. The fugitive employed
his respite in cooling himself by pouring water over his heated person.
In the meantime, Jung Pershaud, the terrible rogue elephant, somewhat
fatigued like his quarry, was drawing near. Jung Pershaud, in order to
give warning of his very dangerous presence, was hung about the neck
with a large bell, like a railway-station bell. When he was not in
action he was secured with ropes.
Presently, from out the jungle, there sounded the uneven, minatory
clangour of the bell. Everyone shouted that Jung Pershaud was coming.
The hunted elephant paused in his ablutions, turned about, and, pushing
the foliage aside with {166} his trunk, gazed in the direction of the
warning note. Then emerged into view the vast head of Jung Pershaud,
painted scarlet. He moved steadily and directly upon his quarry, who
lowered his head, presenting his long sharp tusk. The tusks of Jung
Pershaud were four to five feet long and ringed with brass.
Jung swung his trunk and dealt the hunted elephant a blow on the head,
then charged him in the flank with a resounding impact, drew back and
charged the reeling beast from behind. The hunted elephant took to
flight, pursued by Jung Pershaud, heading straight for the place where
I was watching the combat among the pads and smaller fighting
elephants. These turned and fled in terror.
The hunted elephant plunged into the wood, ploughing his way through
the undergrowth, leaving Jung Pershaud behind him. Sir Jung Bahadur,
following with the Prince and the rest of the party, adjured us to keep
out of the way of the fleeing beast while keeping him in sight. The
quarry checked at an opening in the forest and remained in the shelter
of the trees, while the Prince, with Sir Jung Bahadur and Dr. Russell,
rode across a stream into the open space. Sir Jung Bahadur sat on his
horse and cursed the elephant; who, after hearkening attentively for a
few minutes, suddenly charged the horsemen.
At the same instant, the second fighting elephant, Bijli Pershaud,
burst out of the jungle, and the two animals met forehead to forehead
with a crash. Bijli Pershaud drew off and charged again, striking the
hunted elephant on the shoulder, and running beside him, charged him
heavily again and again, until the poor driven beast dropped his trunk
and uttered a pitiable cry. He was beaten at last.
As we came up, it was discovered that the elephant was blind of one
eye; everyone commiserated the defeated gladiator; and Sir Jung Bahadur
offered to let him go free should the Prince so desire.
The Prince having accepted the suggestion, the elephant was led captive
away and was secured with thick ropes to a {167} tree. He bent his
vast strength to a last effort to escape, so that the tree creaked and
shook under the strain. He cried aloud in despair, and then stood
silent, refusing all food.
They set him free upon the following day, having sawn off his great
tusk; which was presented by Sir Jung Bahadur to the Prince.
A few days before the great hunt took place in Nepal, Sir Jung
Bahadur's regiment of elephants paraded before the Prince. They
numbered more than 700, and were drilled to manoeuvre in companies to
the sound of the bugle. After the hunt, the Prince reviewed Sir Jung's
army: a corps which, as the message from the Queen delivered by the
Prince recalled in gracious terms, had tendered valuable help to the
British arms upon an important occasion. The total strength of the
army was 114,000 infantry and 420 guns. The infantry, in addition to
rifle and bayonet, carried the _kukri_, or curved knife, the national
weapon. We witnessed an exhibition of its use by the soldiers, who
vied with one another in cutting, with a single action, slices of soft
wood from a baulk, the cut making a diagonal section. More by good
luck than by merit, I succeeded in cutting the widest section; and
perceiving it to be extremely improbable that I could repeat the
performance, I refused the invitation to try again. Sir Jung Bahadur
presented me with the _kukri_ I had used. I have the weapon now.
With this weapon, I slew a boa-constrictor. Riding an elephant after
tiger, on which occasion shooting at any other game was forbidden, I
saw a boa-constrictor, and dismounted. The great snake was lying
asleep, coiled in a hole in the ground and half hidden in foliage.
Selecting a narrowing coil, I cut nearly through it. The snake darted
at me, and I finished it with a stick. Although it was dead, its body
continued to writhe until sunset. For a long time I kept the skin, but
unfortunately it decomposed.
My brother Lord William and I were out pig-sticking, and were riding
after a boar. I got first spear, when the {168} boar knocked both me
and my horse clean over. The boar went on, then turned, and as I was
in the act of getting up, came right at me. Remembering what an old
pig-sticker, Archie Hill, had told me a man should do if he were bowled
over and a boar attacked him, I rolled over on my face, presenting my
least vital aspect to the enemy. But my brother, cleverly turning his
horse, killed the boar within a few feet of me. The beast's head is
preserved at Curraghmore.
During the whole time of the Prince's stay in India, one of his suite,
the members of which took it in turns to discharge the duty, remained
on guard over his person at night. I have in my possession the pair of
pistols with which the gentleman on watch was armed.
On 10th January, 1876, the Prince visited the Cawnpore Memorial.
"There was deep silence," writes Dr. Russell, "as the Prince read in a
low voice the touching words, 'To the memory of a great company of
Christian people, principally women and children, who were cruelly
slaughtered here'--the name of the great criminal and the date of the
massacre are cut round the base of the statue. No two persons agree as
to the expression of Marochetti's Angel which stands over the Well. Is
it pain?--pity?--resignation?--vengeance?--or triumph?" Perhaps my
aunt, Lady Waterford, could have enlightened the learned doctor; for
she it was who designed the monument, which was carried into execution
by Marochetti.
A certain officer in high command was extremely agitated concerning the
exact degree of precedence due to him--or rather, to the Service to
which he belonged; a matter not easy to settle amid the throng of
British dignitaries and Indian potentates. The officer chafed sorely
at the delay; nor was he soothed by the injurious remarks of a junior
member of the suite, who dealt with his dignity in a spirit of
deplorable frivolity. At last, however, the junior member approached
him with the aspect of sympathetic gravity proper to the occasion.
{169}
"I congratulate you, sir. That matter of your order of precedence has
been settled at last."
"I am glad to hear it--very glad to hear it," said the officer. "The
delay has been simply scandalous. What is to be my position?"
The junior member appeared to reflect.
"Oh, of course," he said, at length. "Now I remember. Your place,
sir, is between the Ram of (something) and the Jam of (something else)!"
The distinguished officer: "...!!!"
On 30th November, 1875, while the _Serapis_ was on her way from Bombay
to Colombo, the Prince kindly presided at a dinner given in honour of
my promotion to the rank of commander. In a letter written to me by
his Royal Highness some years afterwards, he recalls that festivity,
with a note of regret that those jolly days were gone. Three years
afterwards, upon the occasion of my marriage, the suite presented me
with a most beautiful silver bowl, which remains one of my most highly
prized possessions.
There were many Babu poems composed to celebrate the Prince's prowess
as a hunter. Among them, I remember the following:--
"Beautifully he will shoot
Many a royal tiger brute;
Laying on their backs they die,
Shot in the apple of the eye."
Seven years afterwards, I visited India again. It seemed to me that in
the interval the relations between the Indian and the Englishman had
changed for the better; in that the natives were less afraid of the
white man, and that a better feeling had grown up between East and
West. The principle upon which India is governed is the principle of
establishing justice and humanity. India is governed by the sword; but
the sword is sheathed.
{170}
CHAPTER XVIII
THE EGYPTIAN WAR
I. THE BEGINNING OF TROUBLE
NOTE
The story of the Egyptian war may conveniently begin with an account of
the affair of the 9th September, 1881, when Tewfik, Khedive of Egypt,
met Arabi Pasha face to face in the Square of Abdin at Cairo, and
failed to take advantage of the greatest opportunity of his life. Had
he acted there and then upon the counsel of Mr. (afterwards Sir)
Auckland Colvin, British Controller, it is possible that the Egyptian
war might have been avoided.
The beginning of the trouble was the jealousy existing between the
native Egyptian and the Turkish, or Circassian, elements of the army.
Rightly or wrongly, the Egyptian, or fellah, officers believed
themselves to be slighted. The Turkish, or Circassian, officers, being
of the same race as the ruling family, regarded themselves as the
dominant caste. In the time of Ismail Pasha, the predecessor of
Tewfik, the Minister of War, Osman Pasha Rifki, a Circassian, perceived
that his dignity was compromised by his being obliged to receive orders
from the Khedive through Ali Fehmi, captain of the Guards at the
Palace, a fellah. In the East, such a situation does not continue.
Ali Fehmi mysteriously fell into disgrace. Naturally, he had a
grievance; and he joined himself to two other officers of his race, who
also had {171} grievances. These were Abdel-el-Al and Ahmed Arabi, who
was to become better known as Arabi Pasha. They were called the "Three
Colonels," and to them came Mahmoud Sami Pasha, an exceedingly astute
politician.
Arabi's particular injury was that he had been punished by Ismail for
creating a disturbance under the Palace windows, when he was one of the
officers of the guard. Ismail had bluntly remarked that Arabi was more
noisy but less useful than the big drum. Arabi joined a secret society