At Delhi/Chapter 4
IV.
THE BOMBAY CHIEFS.
IT is a far cry from the Central Camp, where I happen to reside, to the abodes now being prepared along the Gurgaon Road, to the south of the city, for the ruling Chiefs of the Bombay Presidency. You have to cross a corner of the Ridge, skirt the west wall of Delhi, traverse the populous suburb of Paharganj, and drive for three or four miles on a road several inches deep in dust to inspect all the Bombay Camps. Yet the Bombay Chiefs, if they did but know it, are in some respects a good deal better off than their compeers from other parts of India. It is true that they are rather isolated, and that they will have an unconscionable distance to go to the Durbar and the two Reviews. On the other hand, they are in an excellent position for attending the State Entry, and the two great functions, the Investiture and the State Ball, which are to be held in the fort. To these ceremonies they will have ready access, and a road all to themselves.
I started this morning to inspect their camps, in the cheerful belief that there would be no difficulty in getting there. We had scarcely got into the main road, when we found ourselves in the midst of a regiment of Gurkhas. It was the inevitable Army again. It seems that the Second Division of the Northern Army camped north of Delhi last night, and was now marching past the city to the Tomb of Safdar Jang. On Tuesday active operations are to be resumed, and there are rumours of an impending battle. This time the Northern Army is to remain on the defensive, and the Southern Army is to do the attacking; but I hear that the First Division of the Northern Army has been transferred to the Southern force in consequence. When you first see a Gurkha regiment, you think that a bit of the Japanese Army must have strayed into India by mistake. The men look the splendid fighting material they are, and you can well imagine that they climb like cats on a mountain side. You are struck, too, by their really merry demeanour, which contrasts strangely with the gravity of the Sikh and the Rajput. "Jolly little chaps! I remember the times I had with 'em in Burma," murmurs your companion; and jolly little chaps they are. Nowadays the Gurkha on service wears a slouch hat looped up at one side, veldt fashion, and they have given him khaki "boating shorts" which leave the knee bare. I saw one man in the old-fashioned dress of the Gurkha with the pork-pie forage cap; the new uniform looks a great improvement. A British soldier, who had apparently got separated from his battalion, wandered past us. A Gurkha slipped out of the ranks, thrust an orange into his hand, and grinned with huge delight. Tommy produced another piece of fruit, pressed it on the Gurkha in exchange, and both shook hands as though they were blood brothers. Then the Gurkha, smiling and happy, trotted after his comrades. It was quite a pleasant incident.
How we got mixed up with the Second Division, how we were shrouded, as usual, in clouds of dust, how we bumped over bye-paths and dodged obstinate mountain battery mules, need not be related. The point is that at length we got clear, and found ourselves driving along the Gurgaon Road. A mile away, on the direct road to the Kutab Minar, dense volumes of dust marked the march of the Army. And when we turned homewards, a good three hours later, the column was still passing. A Division takes up a good deal of room, and when you have seen one once on an Indian road, a mile is about the best distance from which to contemplate it. The first camp you come to on the Gurgaon Road is the modest plot set apart for the Political Agents of the Bombay Presidency. The tents are arranged in two long rows, and at the end of them is a spacious drawing room tent, leading into another tent which will serve as a dining room. Just across the road is the camp of the Raj Kumars of the Presidency, who will be in charge of Mr. C. W. Waddington. Their dwellings are also unpretentious, as becomes young men; and they certainly have an example set them in the Spartan severity of Mr. Waddington's quarters. Hard by is a special telegraph office, across a field or two a little hospital can be seen, and away in the distance — where the interminable Army is streaming along — are the lines set apart for the Aden Chiefs.
Let us follow this side of the road for a mile or two, before tackling the camps on the other side. The next is that of H. H. the Mir of Khairpur. If the Khairpur State is run with the smartness and energy shown at its Delhi camp, it must be a pattern to many native administrations. The Khairpur people were the first to start and the first to finish. Not even a bit of waste paper mars the general neatness. There is a trim archway over the entrance, and the paths are all carefully gravelled. Well-built open water-channels will keep the camp free from standing water if it rains in January, as everybody predicts. The Mir has a big reception tent, with pukka doors fitted with stained glass windows. In the centre of the plot is a huge raised dais of earth, upon which is an open shamiana. This is a camp which has been well and economically managed. The next camp, a little farther down the road, is that of H. H. the Maharajah of Idar, and as we enter it the gallant and soldierly Maharajah himself appears to greet us. Sir Pratap Singh looks as keen-eyed and as full of energy as ever he did. His activity is amazing. He is Honorary Colonel of the Imperial Cadet Corps, and had already put in a stiff morning parade with his young followers, near their camp, far away to the north of the city. Yet here he was, only an hour or two later, busily engaged in personally supervising the completion of his own camp. His Highness tells you that he feels it incumbent upon him to live with his Corps, and his camp will be chiefly used by his English guests, who include the Guards polo team. There will be many imposing figures in the procession at the State Entry into Delhi, but no more interesting personality than the Colonel of the Imperial Cadets, in his snow-white uniform.
Next is reached the camp of the Raja of Bansda, which will be used chiefly by his retainers; the Raja himself has taken a house in the adjacent village of Paharganj. Then comes the camp of the Chief of Miraj Senior, with a fine shamiana as its central feature. The Chief of Bhore was allotted a contiguous plot, but has elected to reside in a house in Delhi, near the Kabuli Gate. Finally, there is the spacious place set apart for the accommodation of the Bombay Durbaris. These gentlemen, however, have not taken kindly to the idea that they should live in camp. Plots are marked out for every one of them, but only about eight seemed to be occupied. The ground has been carefully prepared, and intersected by a network of paths. A big well has been sunk and water was reached while we were watching the operations.
The biggest Bombay Camps, however, are on the western side of the Gurgaon Road. H. H. the Maharajah of Kolhapur has here made very elaborate preparations. His camp has a large and not unpleasing garden, which contains, among other adjuncts, a couple of bandstands. His Highness has ordered a complete installation of the electric light. His tents and marquees occupy the centre of the camp, and the feudatory chiefs are grouped around him. He is bringing seven or eight hundred followers to Delhi. So, too, is H. H.the Rao of Cutch, whose camp is very carefully laid out. As one enters it, two great tents of a rich reddish-brown hue arrest the eye. These are both over a hundred years old, yet they look in an excellent state of preservation. They were woven and made in Cutch itself. Their interiors are of material of a handsome flowered pattern, the colours looking as fresh as though they were new. But the pride of the Cutch camp is the huge velvet shamiana. All its poles are of silver, the smaller ones solid. The Nawab of Junagadh also has a handsome re- ception tent in his camp; and his officials point with satisfaction to the great array of crotons decorating its approaches. The reception tent is reached through a double row of tents wherein will dwell the Amirs and the chief officials of the State. But the finest camp in the whole of the Bombay sec- tion is undoubtedly that of the Thakore Saheb of Bhavnagar, which was designed and constructed by the State Engineer, Mr. Proctor Sims. It is entered beneath a great archway, containing recesses wherein picturesque Arabs will sit and smoke. Rows of fine tents will accommodate the guests and the State officials. The central feature is a shamiana of noble proportions, lit by clusters of electric lamps. The Bhavnagar camp has been lavish in electrical illumination, but the arched entrance and the central drive are also furnished with powerful Kitson lights. Bhavnagar, too, has created a really successful garden, with dainty beds of flowers ; but the most prominent landmark of the camp is the huge white flagstaff with its gilt top, and its properly squared yard, the best flag-staff" in Delhi. The Rana of Porebunder has made a triumphal archway at his gates covered with striking pictures by native artists. His camp is well arranged, and the precaution of placing every tent on a firm raised plinth has been taken. There are far too few plinths to the multitude of tents at Delhi, as people will discover if the rain comes. The camp of the Thakore Saheb of Morvi presents no semblance either of arrangement or decoration ; it is in a very backward state, and the less said about it the better. The Thakore Saheb of Limri has no very striking features in his camp, and neither has the Raja of Bariya. The Nawab of Janjira has constructed a small but trim camp lit by Kitson lights. H. H. the Sultan of Shehr and Makalla, H. H. the Thakore Saheb of Gondal, and the Thakore Saheb of Palitana, have all taken bungalows. On the whole, the camps of the Bombay chiefs make an excellent appearance. It may be convenient to mention that they are no longer in charge of Captain F. W. Wodehouse, I.S.C., who has become an attache to the Foreign Office ; he handed them over on the 10th instant to Captain J. G. Carter, I.S.C, of the Bombay Political Department.
The residence of one more of the Bombay rulers must not escape mention. The Nawab of Cambay has sought a quiet retreat in the very heart of Delhi. It is in the narrow, noisy, crowded thoroughfare known as Sirkiwalla Bazaar. You turn suddenly from the bazaar down a close grimy alley with lofty walls, scarcely wider than your carriage, and emerge into a broad courtyard. A few steps through a battered archway and you are in an old garden, a veritable "haunt of ancient peace." At the far end is the wide entrance to a house. You are in a place with a history. This quiet garden, and the old mansion, formed the residence of the Wazirs of the Emperors of Delhi. Look at the carved and painted ceilings in the reception rooms ; they are worth the trouble, although the light is dim. Here is a refuge from the chilly nights and the glare of noontide. Not a sound from the roaring city without penetrates this cloistered seclusion. It is a little mouldering ; the rooms have a faint odour of age ; the garden terraces are moss-grown ; a hint of mildewed neglect pervades the place. But once you are within its shelter, the dust and the clatter and the bustle distract you no more.