Sikunder Burnes

by Craig Murray

  He was appointed interpreter to the Diwan Adalat or Court of Appeal. He stayed with the judicial branch, eventually rising to be a judge of the Supreme Court in Calcutta. Once Bentinck became Governor-General, Macnaghten obtained enormous influence. In late 1830 Bentinck had departed on a tour of the upper and western provinces including the first ever summer retreat to Simla. As there existed no mechanism for taking the government with him, and indeed the Charter was deemed to forbid the Council leaving Calcutta, Bentinck had chosen Macnaghten to travel as Secretary, with no other policy advisers.

  Burnes had succeeded wonderfully in his mission to Lahore, He had surveyed the entire river system and produced maps and charts of high quality. His diplomatic goals, with all the native rulers, had been accomplished with a flair that could hardly have been expected. His detailed reports on the countries, peoples and military topography were brilliant. Burnes was highly conscientious; en route to Simla to present his reports, he called on his old surveying and mapping tutor Major Jervis in the Nilgiri Hills, so that Jervis could quickly check his work.

  Bentinck was impressed by Burnes when he met him, and even more impressed by the quality of Burnes’ written reporting. He had been reluctant to approve any forward exploration, but was sufficiently swayed by Burnes – and his instructions from the Secret Committee in London – to agree now that he should continue his exploration to Kabul, Bokhara and the Caspian. Burnes’ description of Sikh power also led Bentinck to push ahead with his plan for a meeting, in replying to Ranjit’s complimentary letter:

  details of the excellent administration of all his officers and of the discipline and efficiency of his troops, have been made known to the Governor-General by the verbal communication of Lieut Burnes and Mr John Leckie […] If it pleases the Almighty the Governor-General will quit Simla on the 19th October and arrive at Rooper […] on the 26th of the aforesaid month, where an interview will take place in the manner and the conditions agreed upon through the medium of Captain Wade […] the friendship and union which has been established […] will thereby be publickly manifested to the whole country.37

  To make copies by hand of Burnes’ voluminous reports was a long task. Drawing up the maps from the survey data required skill in mathematics and draughtsmanship, and this Burnes undertook himself. The reports and surveys were in great demand. It was with perhaps a feeling of self-importance that he wrote to his home Presidency of Bombay, in a letter marked ‘Govr. Genl.’s Camp Simla 16th Sept 1831’ that: ‘I take this opportunity to mention that the Rt Hon the Gov General has called on me for a copy of the papers on the Indus for transmission to England […] I regret that it is not in my power to comply instantly with His Lordship’s request.’38 Lord Clare in Bombay would have to wait. Alexander was in demand in higher places.

  On 28 September 1831 Burnes formally submitted his full portfolio. In addition to the Report, which was constructed in sixteen chapters,39 there was a Personal Narrative, a further 171 large, closely-written pages, giving all the picturesque colour and political discussion. He explained that he was still drawing up the maps.40

  The Report begins triumphantly. ‘There is an uninterrupted navigation from the Sea to Lahore. The distance by the course of the river amounts to about 1,000 British miles. The following papers detail its practicality with minuteness, but not more, I trust, than the great importance of the subject deserves. They also describe the state of the countries and the people’. Burnes described the Indus as having below Uch a depth of never less than fifteen feet in the dry season, and a width seldom more than half a mile. He gives the Chenab depth at twelve feet and the Rani at six, stressing these are minima. But he adds the important proviso:

  This extensive inland navigation, open as I have stated it to be, can only be considered traversable to the boats of the country, which are flat bottomed […] The largest of these carry about 75 tons […] steam vessels could ply if constructed in this manner, but no vessel with a keel could be safely navigated.41

  This was a sober appraisal; Burnes made it quite clear that ocean-going vessels could not do it and specially constructed steamers would be needed. Burnes went on to state that while there were no physical obstacles, traders on the Indus were robbed by the people and over-taxed by the rulers, so trade to the Punjab and Central Asia went by circuitous land routes instead.

  But what commanded most interest in Calcutta and London was Burnes’ view on the strategic defence of India. These parts of his Report are not reproduced in his published work:

  The military advantages of the Indus are great. It is navigable for a fleet from Attock to the sea, and conducts an invader to the central portions of India. The insulated Fortress of Bukkur is a most important position […] By securing it we arrest the invader and retain command of the navigation in a most fertile country.

  Chapter 8 of this Report is entitled ‘On the Invasion of India from the Indus and Countries Westward’ It charts the scenes of his future career:

  Bukkur is the key of Sinde, and the most important military position on the Indus. With the fort of Attock higher up, it must at all times engage the attention of the invaders and the invaded, in any operation conducted on India from that river […]

  It is not the strength of the works which constitutes the importance of Bukkur, but it lies on a most important line of route from Persia to India, and may be approached from Candahar, a distance of 450 miles, with the heaviest artillery. This road crosses the mountains of the long and narrow pass of Bolan […] across the plains of Cutch Gandava, on to Sinde and Shikarpoor […] I know it to have been travelled by a force of 6,000 Afghans, with a train of artillery, this very month [May 1831] […]

  I need not say that the pass of Bolan is to be considered as one of the strongest mountain roads in the world, and might be defended by a handful of men. It runs through the country of the Brahvoors, who are a type of Beloochee mountaineers.42

  In the final chapter of his Report on the Punjab, Burnes tramples all over Claude Wade’s patch in trying to bring the Governor-General’s attention to the imminent dissolution of the Sikh Empire:

  But the successful compulsion of the political power by one man seems destined to be transient. Runjeet Singh is in his 51st year, of a weakly frame of body – his habits of dissipation are at variance with hopes of longevity. With his dissolution ends the dynasty, his only son Kurruck Sing, is an imbecile, and it is doubtful if any of his spurious offspring could mount a claim with a chance of success. The Maharaja himself gained the throne by art and conquest, and he has carefully neutralized the power of the Sirdars who were once his equals. The elements of discord are therefore at hand and on his death we may see a relapse to it.43

  In Ludhiana Burnes called on the exiled Shah Shuja, a pensioner of the British. Burnes’ impression was that Shuja was not a strong enough ruler to control Kabul. From his official Narrative he was permitted to publish in Travels into Bokhara, ‘From what I learn, I do not believe the Shah possesses sufficient energy to again seat himself on the throne of Cabool […]’ Nevertheless, Burnes had personal sympathy for Shuja. The following passages were deleted by the Company before publication:

  our sympathies are kindled in his favor, when we consider that he lost his crown from a humanity unheard of among his nation, in not blinding the brother, who at last dethroned him, when in his power […]

  At Lodeeana, I had an opportunity […] of perusing the memoirs of Shah Shooja in Persian […] One page of his history contains a sad detail of inhospitality and unkindness which he experienced from Runjeet Sing, and which did not even terminate with his forcefully possessing himself of the Koh-i-Noor […] The Shah at length fled from the Seik capital by the assistance of his Queen, who had previously affected her escape in the disguise as a courtezan; he cut his way through 7 walls, and reached the exterior of the city by creeping thro the common sewer […] he and a few followers betook themselves to the mountainous country of Histwar, preparatory to an attack on Cashmere, where he had power
ful partizans. Fate, as he says, seems to have decreed against him for a snowstorm that fell as early as August, proved destructive to his hopes, many of the troops which he had gathered together perished, and his partizans in Cashmere, unsupported, were massacred. The Shah and a few supporters crossed the Hemilaya by an untrodden path, and […] arrived at the British post of Subattoo […] His description of having reached in safety this friendly spot is pathetic and touching.44

  Burnes empathised with Shuja to an extent the Company considered unwise for publication.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Rupar, the Field of the Cloth of Cashmere

  Given his recent success it is not surprising that Alexander was invited to join Lord William and Lady Bentinck’s party to meet Ranjit Singh at Rupar in October. This meeting of the two most powerful men in India, on the border of their respective empires, had been a feat of some diplomatic skill to put together. Burnes’ mission had been a part of this.

  He had already come far from the mundane duties of Assistant to the Resident at Cutch, still his official position. Though a humble Lieutenant, at Rupar he was in the Bentincks’ inner circle.

  There he met James Skinner, the founder of Skinner’s Horse – another of the astonishing contributions to India of the small town of Montrose, whence his father Hercules had emigrated. Like Burnes, Skinner’s grandfather had been Provost.1

  Burnes gave a detailed account of the events at Rupar in a letter to Major-General Ramsay, of the family of the Burnes’ Angus patrons, the Earls of Dalhousie. Burnes arrived at Rupar with Bentinck on 22 October. That evening Bentinck wrote to Clare, reminding him that the Court of Directors in London had directed them ‘to secure the full navigation of the Indus for purposes of political and commercial communication, in case the mission of Lieut Burnes should give reason to believe the facilities afforded by this river to be as great as were supposed’. Bentinck suggested the first step was to send Pottinger as Resident to Sind to conclude a treaty with the Amirs for free navigation, and ensure that its provisions were kept and appropriate transport infrastructure built.2

  On 23 October the bulk of the British military escort formed camp on the eastern bank of the Sutlej. This included both Royal and Company regiments, with lancers and horse artillery polished to their parade ground best. Burnes tells us that when Ranjit Singh did not arrive on 24 October, ‘politicians’ around the Governor-General were quick to allege bad faith, but on 25 October the Maharaja appeared, riding to his camp on the western bank through a lane of irregular cavalry two miles long.

  In fact Ranjit had taken alarm at the thought of proceeding into the British camp. He had only been persuaded to go ahead by Allard, and by his astronomers, who told him that he must present an apple to Bentinck. If Bentinck accepted it, all would be well.

  The next day another Dalhousie, General Ramsay, led a delegation mounted on elephants over a bridge of boats to conduct the Maharaja to meet the Governor-General. Considering the equipage of the British elephants to be inferior, Ranjit Singh remounted the British officers on his larger beasts, with glittering gold and silver howdahs, for the return crossing. Ranjit Singh was flanked by 4,000 regular cavalry, resplendent in bright yellow uniform.

  The display was meant to impress, and it succeeded:

  His Highness himself with his son […] occupied the Centre. His chiefs in Gold and Silver Howdas preceded and followed. His Generals and Commanders seated on highly caparisoned horses arranged the Troops – a body of 4,000 cavalry, uniformly dressed in yellow, formed the wings of this magnificent procession. The Maharajah himself directed every movement with the eye and Confidence of a Soldier […] and was forthwith obeyed. His every word seemed talismanic […] The coup d’oeil, as the troops debarked from the bridge of Boats was the most picturesque and striking; his body guard spread on each side to swell the pageant of their King.3

  Bentinck mounted his own elephant to meet Ranjit. As the elephants drew alongside each other, the howdah doors were opened. First an apple was passed across, and accepted by Bentinck, who had been forewarned of this test by spies. Then the old Maharaja leapt ‘with some agility into His Lordship’s arms’, somewhat to Bentinck’s surprise. It was an auspicious start to festivities which were to be remarkably cordial.

  Lord William had taken care to ensure that the presents given to Ranjit were of the highest quality. Fifty-one trays of them were placed before the Maharaja. Ranjit Singh got up and examined every single present, then oversaw their packing away. They included products of British technology such as clocks, telescopes, sextants, broadcloth, knives and needles, but Lord William had also made sure that Ranjit’s taste for fine jewels was not ignored.

  On 27 October it was the turn of the British party to cross the Sutlej and be received by Ranjit Singh, captured most vividly by Burnes:

  There were seventy elephants advancing with Sikh Chiefs and European Gentlemen in full dress […] The procession was preceded by a band of music, and the Lancers and Bodyguards closed it […] Two Regiments of Infantry were drawn up at right angles to one another, and at the end of the triangle was a spacious triumphal arch, covered with red cloth and gold ornaments lined with yellow silk. Another Arch more splendid than the first was erected a short distance in advance, and proceeding through there we reached the Courtyard […] There was a silence […] that made the spectacle more than imposing […]

  Runjeet conducted the Governor-General to […] where the durbar was to be held, and seated his Lordship between himself and his Son […] The durbar, thus formed, was shaded over by a lofty arcade covered with yellow Silk: on the floor were spread out the richest Carpets and Shawls of Cashmere, and behind the Maharajah stood a spacious tent glittering with every ornament; it was composed partly of crimson velvet, yellow French satin, and Cashmere shawls. […] But the Maharaja himself was a greater object of attraction than even this magnificence. He was robed in green satin; on his right arm he wore that splendid diamond, the ‘Koh-i-noor’, and his wrist and neck were encircled by the most superb pearls […] There were about three hundred chiefs introduced, some of them wore chain armour; and one individual, Soojet Sing, a Raja […], wore a casque surmounted by a white plume, and splendidly adorned with pearls and diamonds […]

  The Maharaja gave a signal, which brought his Regiment of Amazons, about 70 in number. They were richly attired in yellow silk and […] drew up in front of Runjeet and the Governor-General under the command of a favorite Commandant, who commanded the multitude with a long Cane. Some of the ladies were very beautiful; nor did they seem to regret that, on such an occasion, so many eyes should be turned towards them. Many of them had stained their lips with roseate red […] The ladies succeeded in making an impression and were desired to withdraw, after chanting a few Persian odes on love and beauty […]

  Burnes was delighted to see his friends Allard and Court given the honours of allied generals and invited to Lady Bentinck’s table. There were two days of field manoeuvres, with each army closely observing the other. But the highlight was the party Ranjit gave on 29 October, at which everyone got drunk, covered in gold dust and played around with the Koh-i-Noor. These were unrepeatable events, and the twenty-six-year-old Burnes was plainly dazzled, as were even the Bentincks, themselves fabulously wealthy:

  His Highness’ Tents were splendidly illuminated and the continued succession of fireworks gave his whole camp an appearance as bright as day […] the Regiment of Amazons, with their bewitching figures, each armed with a Bow and Arrow, flattered and sung the hours away. Runjeet amused his guests by displaying his jewels: the invaluable diamond was handed round to every individual with a confidence that deserves remark

  […] It formed at one time a gem in the crown of descendants of Timour […] and now the property of a once predatory and plundering chief; it was exposed to the gaze, and shall I say, the covetousness of a British Assembly. But the Maharaja […] desired an Amazon to chant the Song of the Hooly: he ordered the goblet, and with it the vessels filled wi
th gold-leaf-dust […] assisted by his regiment of females, he scattered the dust around. No one escaped not even the Governor-General and Lady William; and one Lady indeed nearly blinded the one-eyed Maharaja in the scuffle – the little man then quaffed his wine, talked lowly in its praise, drank freely of it and endeavored to prevail on many of the gentlemen to imitate his example […] the party broke up and for two days afterwards most of those, who composed it, might be distinguished by their glittering and bespangled faces: there was no ridding oneself of the gold dust […]

  The small group around Bentinck included a Burnes, two Ramsays and a Skinner: much of that gold dust fell on Montrose. Victor Jacquemont complained that British accounts toned down the real Ranjit: for example ‘Rendjit pissa fort gravement dans un coin de la superbe tente ou il se trouvait avec Lord William et tout le cour du gouverneur general.’4 Beneath the show, serious diplomacy was in process. Bentinck tackled Ranjit Singh over his annexation of northern districts of Bhawalpur; he made plain that Britain was entering treaty relations with Sind and other states of its north-western frontier. All must respect each other’s borders.

  Burnes had a stark reminder of his rank when he received letters from the Amirs of Sind, asking him to convey their respects, and desire for good relations, to the Governor-General. Burnes translated these letters and gave them to Bentinck’s Private Secretary. He was instructed to thank the Amirs but inform them that their correct channel of communication was through Colonel Pottinger.5 This was humiliating.