SIR THOMAS MUNRO, 1761-1827.
THOMAS MUNRO was the son of Alexander Munro, a Glasgow merchant, trading
with Virginia. He was sent to a grammar school at a very early age, and
was only a boy of thirteen when lie proceeded to the University, where he
remained till he was sixteen. It was at the University that he developed
that taste for history and literature that he retained throughout his
career in India. His favourite reading consisted of voyages, Plutarch's
Lives, Shakespeare, political economy, and history. A boy's reading does
undoubtedly have an influence on his after career as a man, and so it was
with Munro. One illustration of his industry and perseverance may be given.
He learnt Spanish with the help of a dictionary
and grammar, in order that he might have the pleasure of reading the
immortal work of Cervantes, Don Quixote, in the original. It is
acknowledged by all who take the trouble to learn a
new language, and more especially a language that has great literature,
that one of the most interesting results of so doing is the new world that
is opened up to the imagination, a result that translations do not achieve
to the same extent. The author of this sketch has few more interesting
reminiscences than that of reading in the original one of the plays of the
great Sanskrit dramatist, Kahidasa, amidst the pine forests of Kashmir,
amidst much of the scenery, indeed, in which the action of the play is
laid. Munro's athletic tastes in his early youth were a good preparation
for his after career in India as both a soldier and an administrator.
Nature, it has been said, had given him a personal appearance which
inspired confidence, his own training and work supplied the rest. He was
tall and robust in appearance, and excelled in all
games and sports, was possessed of great agility, pre- sence of mind, and
a high courage ; these qualities were combined with great self-denial,
which amounted almost to austerity, and great powers of endurance, the
natural outcome, no doubt, of his extremely simple habits.
His tastes were all in the direction of a life of
adventure, such as a military career offered in the times he was living in
; his ambition, however, was not to be gratified till after he had spent
some time as a clerk in his father's business firm. He had been offered a
commission in the Army, hut, out of deference to his father's wishes, he
had declined it, though not without a feeling of very deep disappointment.
On the failure of his father's business, when he was nineteen years of
age, the opportunity came again, and he did not neglect it. He was offered
and accepted a military cadetship in the service of the East India
Company. He could not afford to pay for a passage out to India, so he
worked his way out, as an ordinary seaman, on board ship, thus early
showing the stuff he was made of.
He arrived in India in the year 1780. One of his early
experiences soon after he had landed was an unpleasant one enough in its
consequences. He had engaged a venerable-looking Madrasi as a
body-servant; this individual calmly walked off one day with all his
wardrobe of European clothes, and with nearly all his available supply of
money: he professed to be going to exchange the clothes for something
better adapted to the climate. Munro gave a more or less humorous account
of the incident in a letter to his mother: "It is customary with
gentlemen," said the old man to me, ''to make a present of all their
European articles to their servants, but I will endeavour to dispose of
yours to advantage." Trusting to the old man, whose venerable countenance
inspired confidence in his sincerity, I handed them over, and he departed
with them. Some unfortunate accident must, however, have happened to him,
for he never turned up again.' It is only fair to the Indian servant to
say that as a class they are scrupulously honest where things have been
specially entrusted to their care: Munro's experience must therefore have
been exceptional. Considering that his pay at this time was only about
fifty rupees a month, lie must have been put to a great deal of
inconvenience by his loss, and he pathetically remarked that it was six
months before lie could buy fresh linen; but, amidst all his mischances,
the saving sense of humour never deserted him.
Munrohad not been long in India before the second war
with Haidar Au, of Mysore, broke out. The disunion in the English Council
at Madras had given an opening to the enemies of England, and, though an
alliance which Haidar All had contemplated making, between himself, the
Nizam of Haidarabad and the Mahrattas, had been frustrated by the
foresight and sagacity of Warren Hastings, Haidar All was confident of a
successful issue to the struggle for supremacy between himself and the
English, and he had some reason for his confidence, for had he not, some
years before, himself dictated terms of peace to the British outside the
walls of Madras ? Munro was actively employed, but only in a subordinate
capacity, throughout the war. His letters and journals throw considerable
light on the chief incidents of the war, and contain some masterly
criticisms on the conduct of the operations by some of the general
officers employed. The strategy opposed to them in the earlier part of the
war, by which the enemy succeeded for long in keeping the different units
of the British force divided, was a masterly one; one body of troops was
completely cut up. However, the English retrieved the disasters of the
early part of the war by the brilliant victory of Porto Nuovo. Haidar All
had given orders before the battle that no prisoners were to be taken, but
he was so decisively beaten that he had no chance of taking any. His death
in 1782 did not interrupt the war: his son Tipu Sultan carried it on till
1784, when the Treaty of Mangalore brought it to a not altogether
successful issue, so far as the English were concerned. Munro's criticism
of the last battle of the war, which was fought between an English and a
French force, was very severe: 'There seemed no connexion,' he wrote, 'in
our movements; every one was at a loss what to do, and nothing saved our
army from a total defeat, but the French being, like ourselves, without a
general.'
A period of peace ensued, and Munro made excellent use of the enforced
leisure which this period gave him. He made a series of walking tours
about the country, and thus gained an extensive acquaintance with the
Madras Presidency ; he also studied Hindustani and Persian. He is said, in
the course of his Oriental studies, to have discovered the story of
Shylock, the Jew, or at any rate a story very similar, in a Persian
manuscript ; in its Persian dress it was the story of a Jew and a
Muhammadan. It must not be forgotten that Europe is indebted to the East
for many of its most familiar and popular fables and tales. To take the
story of Gelert, the gallant Welsh hound and the wolf, as one instance,
there is a similar story, if it is not, as has been said, the actual
original, in Sanskrit story ; in its Oriental dress, it is the story of a
mungoose and a cobra. In each case the gallant protector of an infant
child is slain by the owner under a misapprehension.
During this period of comparative calm the important event took place of
the cession to the Company, by the Nizamn, of the Guntur Circar, which
gave the Company the possession of the East Coast from Jagannath Purl
practically down to Cape Comorin : as they had already annexed the
Northern Circars, this fresh acquisition of territory gave them the
command of an extensive portion of the East Coast. As a matter of fact, it
was a restitution rather than a cession, as this legion had at one period
belonged to the Company. Munro took an important part in this business as
an intelligence officer, for which position his acquaintance with the
languages of the country well qualified him. It is curious to note that,
in some of his letters written at this time, Munro expressed his
anticipation of the restoration of French ascendancy in Southern India,
anticipations which were fortunately not destined to be realized. France
was never able to get that command of the sea on which alone her chances
of gaining that ascendancy could have depended. Munro never lost his
interest in the history of the world around him, both European and
Asiatic, as this correspondence abundantly shows. It is, indeed, very
essential for the healthy life of the Englishman in the East that he
should maintain this interest, if he is not to fall
behind his contemporaries in the West, and if lie is to avoid becoming
what has been styled 'a Sultanized Englishman'.
The interest of this portion of Munro's life lies
mainly in his descriptions of the life of a subaltern : it was a life of
hardships and poverty. The contrast between what people in England dreamt
of and the actual reality was a very marked one. The romance of the
gorgeous East had doubtless appealed to his youthful imagination, as it
does to many a youth in England, till lie has found by experience how
unromantic life in the East can really be. In Munro's case the contrast
between what lie had dreamt of and the actual reality had wrought a
complete disenchantment. He had, moreover, to endure, what few young men
in these days have to suffer from, the difficulty of inadequate means
arising from poorness of pay. 'Poverty,' he complained, 'was his constant
companion.' It speaks well for his grit that, notwithstanding, he and his
brother between them managed to contribute from their small pay a sum of
£100 a year, to enable their father to end his days in comparative
comfort. His words written to his father on this subject were
characteristic of a. man one of whose distinguishing traits was filial
piety: 'The loss of fortune is but a passing evil; you are in no danger of
experiencing the much heavier one of having unthankful children.' It also
speaks well for his character that he did not suffer his disenchantment to
extinguish his enthusiasm in his work. This is one of the apparent
anomalies of an Eastern career: disenchantment may come earlier or later;
it is bound to come some time; but enthusiasm may still remain, and when
one has finally left the scene of one's labours, the call of the East
still occasionally stirs the imagination. Hence the very appropriate name
applied to India by Sir Alfred Lyall, 'the Land of Regrets.' Munro kept up
his deep interest in his surroundings, and some of the special interest of
his correspondence at this time lies in the glimpses it gives of his walks
and talks with the people of the country he could always adapt himself to
his environment, and the main secret of this was his intimate acquaintance
with. the colloquial vernacular.
Not many years after the conclusion of peace with the Ruler of Mysore,
Tipu Sultan, the English again found themselves at war with him. The cause
of this, the Third Mysore War, was Tipu Sultan's invasion of the territory
of the Raja of Travancore, who was an ally of the English. Munro was
actively engaged in this war, but again in the capacity of a subaltern
only. The unpreparedness of the English was as conspicuous on this
occasion as it had been on the outbreak of the previous war, and again
they narrowly escaped defeat in the earlier part of the campaign. The
faulty strategy of the English commanders placed Tipu
in a superior position on more occasions than one, and it was fortunate
for the English that he failed to take advantage of it. Munro noted this
fact, and commented on it thus : 'There seems to be a fatality sometimes
attending even the greatest geniuses, which deadens the energy of their
minds, and reduces them to the level of common men just when their best
concerted schemes are about to be crowned with success.' A certain
incident happened during this period of Munro's career which brings out
conspicuously his dislike of anything approaching self- advertisement,
even when there was a good prospect of its advancing his interests. His
relatives at home had published in The Times a graphic description of the
war, which lie had sent them; this led him to destroy a very interesting
manuscript, in the shape of a long treatise on the war. He remarked, as
he did so, that there was no use in keeping it,
when he could not venture to send it to those for whose amusement it was
intended. This war with Tipu Sultan was brought to a close with the Treaty
of Seringapatam, in 1792. Munro would have liked to have seen the war
carried to a final issue, of which there seemed every prospect at the time
that peace was concluded. It was known that Tipu considered affairs so
critical, the British army lying all round his capital, that lie was
preparing for instantaneous flight, remaining outside the fort in a tent
among his horsemen. The Treaty caused great disappointment also in the
army generally: its terms were thought to be far too easy. Lord Cornwallis
is reported to have been unwilling to capture the capital, and to have
remarked: 'Good God, what shall I do with the place.'
Be this as it may, Munro thought that the policy of conciliation was
unsuited to the times, and to the man whom Lord Cornwallis was attempting
to conciliate, and he by no means stood alone in holding this opinion. He
somewhat caustically remarked: 'Everything is now done by moderation and
conciliation; at this rate we shall all be Quakers twenty years hence.'
The policy in favour at the time was the maintenance of a balance of
power, whereas Munro thought that conquest was the policy best suited to
the times, and the only policy likely to secure permanent security. The
soundness of these views was proved by after events : within the short
period of seven years the Fourth Mysore War had to be undertaken by the
Marquis Wellesley. Tipu Sultan during this interval was busy concerting
measures for the overthrow of the English power in India. He sent a
mission to Constantinople, another to Zaman Shah, in Afghanistan, and
another to Napoleon Buonaparte. In order to win over the Sultan of Turkey
to his side, he had announced himself as 'the Champion of Islam against
the Kafirs'.
By the terms of the Treaty that brought the Third
Mysore War to a close, Tipu lost half his dominions; they were divided
between the British, the Nizam of Haidarabad, and the Mahrattas. The
British share consisted of the regions known as Malabar, Dindigul, part of
the present district of Madura, and the Bara-Mahal, part of the present
district of Salem. The assistant-superintendentship of the latter was
given to Munro, and his service lasted for some seven years. The natural
beauties of this district, which have been noted by all travellers,
appealed to Munro's love of natural scenery, and he was able to give full
scope to his taste for gardening. A short time back attempts were made to
locate the garden that Munro made for himself near Dharmapuri, in which he
used always to spend at least an hour every day. Unfortunately, these
attempts were unsuccessful. When his time to leave the district came, he
said that to quit it gave him as much regret as forsaking an old friend.
He left memorials of himself all over the district in the shape of tanks,
rest-houses, and avenues of roadside trees. The literatures of the East
attribute great merit to rulers who provide for their people things so
necessary to the comfort of travellers in the East, as water, shelter, and
shade. Had Munro been a Hindu, he would have been storing up merit for the
next world; as it was, he left behind him a kindly place in the hearts of
the people of the district, and to this day his memory is handed down as
that of Tom Munro Bahadur, the Ryots' Friend.'
His chief work was in the direction of revenue reforms
the old oppressive system whereby the revenue was collected by the
Zarninclars, who farmed out the land, was abolished in favour of what is
known as the Ryotwari system, a system which was afterwards extended over
the Madras Presidency. Under this system, the Ryot is considered as
practically a peasant-proprietor, paying revenue direct to Government.
Munro always carried into practice, during this period of what he has
described as a time of plain hard labour, his own theory of what
constitutes the duty of an administrator, of seeing things with his own
eyes; he was always personally most active in the matter of touring, and
he utilized to the full his practical knowledge of colloquial vernacular,
a knowledge which he always regarded as a very important equipment for
officers of Government. Iii some of his correspondence at this period, he
touched on one important matter, a matter which afterwards did receive the
closest attention from the Government, the necessity of giving Government
officers good pay for the work to be done. 'Even men of education and
character,' he wrote, 'when placed in situations where they cannot become
independent by their regular pay, if it is small, are tempted to hasten
the period of their independence by dishonest means, where they can
without danger of discovery. It is only ignorance of human nature for
Government to ignore that fact.' In the present day that temptation no
longer exists the pay is in most cases commensurate with the work. The
efforts of successive Rulers of India to secure the purity of the
administration have been rewarded; so that now, in the present day, the
encomium passed on the services, civil and military, by the late Viceroy
of India, Lord Curzon, that they are ' the highest-minded services in the
world ', is recognized by all who know- India best, as no more than the
bare truth. All Indian administrators recognize the expediency of giving
free access to their presence to all visitors, of keeping, as it is styled
in Oriental parlance, 'Char darwaze khole,' 'four doors open;' but all at
the same time recognize it as a great tax upon their time. Munro has some
amusing remarks in his correspondence on this practice, which at the same
time he always recognized as part of the day's work: 'I wonder we waste so
much time in praying against battle, and murder, and sudden death, which
seldom happen, instead of calling upon Heaven to deliver us from the
calamity we are daily exposed to, of troublesome visitors; they have
frequently given me a headache, and I would rather walk all day in a hot
sun than sit listening to a dull fellow. I wish they would all come and
see me in the mass and not singly.'
This period of Munro's civil administration was
interrupted for a time by the Fourth Mysore War, already alluded to, in
which he was called upon to take a part, this time as captain of a
transport and commissariat corps. At the close of the war, which ended in
the final conquest of Mysore, Munro was appointed secretary to the
commission that was nominated to arrange about the disposal of the
country. One of the districts that came at this time under British
administration, under the terms of the new Partition Treaty made between
the British, the Nizam, and the Mahrattas, was the district of Canara.
Munro was placed in administrative charge of it, and remained so for about
a year. The words in which lie expressed his regret at leaving the scene
of his old labours, the district of Salem, mark the enthusiast: 'I have
now turned my back on the Bara-Mahal and the Karnatic, with a deeper sense
of regret than I felt on leaving home. I see nothing in the future to
compensate me for what I have lost, a country and friends that have been
endeared to me by the residence of twenty years.' His sense of public duty
and the nearer prospects of leave home were his principal reasons for
accepting the post offered him by the Governor-General. At the same time
he found the new life and work in Canara exceedingly irksome, and lie made
an attempt to get a transfer. This called forth from his superior officer
a striking tribute to the unique character of his work ' I regret,' wrote
Mr. Cockburn, the senior member of the Board of Revenue, 'that your
situation should be so irksome, the more so as any attempt to procure your
removal would be considered treason to the State, your services are so
esteemed, and there is no one equal to the performance of the difficult
task you are engaged in.'
His chief work in this district lay in settlement
operations and in the suppressionof crime. He was in the habit of keeping
a journal, and the entries in this give an insight into the heavy nature
of the task he was engaged in. One entry will suffice to show this ' In
one year, I have gone through more work than in almost all the seven years
I was in the Bara-Mahal.' His life was spent almost entirely in tents. The
crowds that used to throng his tent, not leaving him very often till near
midnight, gave him a good insight into the character of the people.
Grumbling is an ineradicable attribute of the agricultural classes all the
world over, whatever the seasons may bring, and the cultivators of Canara
were no exception to the rule. Silence on their part was by no means
regarded as golden, on the contrary it would imply an acknowledgement on
their part that they could well afford to pay enhanced rents: hence their
vociferous clammours, whenever Munro appeared amongst them, of hard times
and poverty. This, with the Indian cultivator, Munro in his journal notes,
was by no means lying, but only an Oriental evasion of the truth, a habit
formed as the result of many centuries of oppression under hard
task-masters, and one not to be easily eradicated even under a milder
régime. ' The old system,' noted Munro, 'of always prying into their
affairs in order to lay ever new burdens upon them, forced them to deny
what they had in order to save their property at all, and, after all,
concealment of the real facts, and exaggeration of losses are
characteristic of the class.' He gives an amusing instance of this
tendency to exaggeration which he observed even in the younger generation
of cultivators : he one day asked the youthful son of a cultivator who had
been set to frighten birds off the crops with the primitive sling and
stones, still to be seen in the fields of the East, 'How many bushels of
grain do you expect? The boy simply replied 'There is nothing in our
house now to eat: the birds will eat all this, and we shall be starved.'
It has been sometimes argued that Government measures of relief have in
these latter days, in times of famine, had the effect of demoralizing the
agricultural classes, but this is not really so : their characteristics
have not altered materially for centuries, and they remain much the same
under the benevolent despotism of British rulers as they were under the
harsher rule of despotic task-masters : and the old Sanskrit Proverb that
runs: 'Speech benefits a Brahman more than silence,' is as applicable now
to the Indian cultivator when he thinks that speech will hell) him to get
his rents lowered, or altogether remitted, as ever it was. As usual with
him, Munro availed himself to the full of the opportunities the settlement
operations gave him of walks and talks with the people of the district :
he also indulged his love of Nature, humorously remarking:
'Notwithstanding the want of music and damsels, I love to rise before the
sun, and prick my steed through the woods and wilds under a serene sky.'
Munro's good work in Canara at last met with its reward
in a more important appointment being conferred upon him. There were
certain districts which had been originally granted to the Nizam after the
Third and Fourth Mysore Wars, which had at a later period been ceded by
him to the British as a guarantee for the payment of the cost of
subsidiary troops. Munro was placed in charge of these districts. The
Governor of Madras, Lord Clive, offered the appointment to Munro in most
complimentary terms: Munro had in the first instance asked for it, and
Lord Clive wrote : 'The wishes of so excellent a fellow and collector
ought to be cheerfully complied with.'
The first step in the settlement of the new districts,
of which Bellary and Cuddapah were the chief, was the subjection of the
petty chiefs of those parts, who were known as Naiks, or Polygars, and
their armed followers, whose numbers amounted to some 30,000, and who all
subsisted by violence and plunder. In describing his work as collector,
Munro thus wrote: 'My annual circuit is near a thousand miles, and the
hours I spend on horseback are almost the only hours I spend alone.' He
never travelled with a guard even in disturbed districts, for, as he
remarked, nothing short of a company would give protection. He trusted
entirely to the prestige ofhis office as collector, recognizing that this
prestige with the people of India, with all their respect for authority,
is really very great. ' The natives of India,' he remarked on one
occasion, 'have a good deal of respect for public authority : collectors,
they consider, only act by orders from superior powers: they ought not,
therefore, to become objects of resentment.' Times have changed a good
deal since these words were penned, but one has only to associate freely
with all classes of Indians to realize that, even in these days, the
prestige of the higher Government officials, and especially of the
District Officer, is as great as it ever was, with the great body of the
people. Munro's first land settlement was a village one : under this
system each village was treated as a separate community, and assessed as a
whole ; the cultivators as a body were made responsible for the payment of
the amount due. His next settlement was a step towards the Ryotwari system
already referred to : under this system a settlement was made with the
cultivators individually; the head-men of the villages were at the same
time made responsible for defaulters, or absconders. Munro's Survey
Settlement was a very thorough piece of work; so much so, indeed, that to
this day it is said to be a safe guide in most village disputes. The Board
of Revenue used to insist on their officers keeping a diary, which they
were called upon to submit periodically ; Munro's comment upon this was
somewhat caustic: ' I cannot see what purpose it would answer here except
to hinder me from looking after more important matters.'
Englishmen in India in these days enjoy much greater
opportunities of relaxation than Englishmen of Munro's days enjoyed, and
Munro during this period of hard work complained deeply of the want of it
: lie recognized that work can only be carried on vigorously, and without
a jaded feeling, where relaxation was possible. One of the most curious
anomalies of the present day is the harsh criticism that is so often
passed upon their countrymen in India, who are engaged in doing their
country's work, by men who have themselves held official position in
India, and who may be supposed to know something of the conditions under
which that work is done, whereas much of their criticism goes to show
their actual ignorance. The possible explanation may be found to be in the
different points of view from which men of this class have viewed things
while in India. Men belonging to one class of these critics have gone
about with a veil of visionary idealism over their eyes which has
prevented their seeing things as they actually are: men of another class
have moved chiefly in great cities, and men living in cities know nothing
of the life of the country at large: they have no real idea of the
conditions under which Englishmen carry on their work in the Mufasa.1, as
the country districts of India are styled. All this goes to show the
danger of dogmatizing in matters concerned with the conduct of Englishmen
or the feelings of Indians. A recent critic has alleged against the
relaxations of the modern Englishman in India that they are frivolous, and
that this frivolity is causing loss of prestige among his more
serious-minded Indian fellow subjects. Now, 'coclum non animum mutant qui
trans mare currunt': an Englishman does not lose his characteristics even
when his work does lie East of Suez, and the only difference between him
and his countryman at home, who has besides many more interests to absorb
his attention, is perhaps the extra zest with which he throws himself into
his amusements. No one who realizes the actual conditions under which the
average official carries on his duties in the Mufasal, devoting his best
hours and his best thoughts, during his long working hours, to the
interests of the people entrusted to his charge, will grudge him his well
won play-hours, or be surprised if he enjoys them with all the zest and
enthusiasm almost of a schoolboy. In all that concerns the real business
of life the Englishman in India can be serious enough, but relaxation is
his very life: it is, indeed, the only thing that helps to preserve the
balance of his moral and physical well-being, and saves him from becoming
that degenerate and Orientalized hybrid immortalized by Thackeray. Without
his relaxation and the renewed energy that it gives him for work, he would
indeed be in danger of losing his prestige. He is ever ready, moreover, to
welcome at his out-door sports and pastimes his Indian friends who may
show sufficient skill to join him. As a matter of fact the Indian whose
opinion is most worth having, if he thinks at all about the matter, which
is exceedingly doubtful, certainly does not think the less of him for
enjoying his hours of relaxation in a manner characteristic of his race.
After all, ' East is East, and West is West.' Relaxation so necessary for
the Englishman, may not be so necessary for the Indian each has the
traditions of his race :the Englishman has his, and the Indian has his,
and both cannot help being themselves.
During this period of his career, Munro was able to
render valuable assistance to Arthur Wellesley, his lifelong friendship
with whom had dated from the time when he had been secretary to the
commission for disposing of Mysore territory after the death of Tipu. He
supplied the transport that was needed during the Mahratta campaign of
1802. Arthur Wellesley fully recognized Munro's military skill and
sagacity, and was always glad to have his opinion on military matters,
regarding him as a good judge of a military operation.
The Sepoy Mutiny of Vellore, which occurred towards the
end of this portion of Munro's career, produced some correspondence
between him and Lord William Bentinck, who at the time was Governor of
Madras. Bentinck had attributed the mutiny to intrigues among Tipu's sons.
Munro, on the other hand, conceived that the proximate
cause was religious disquietude, induced by certain vexatious military
regulations. This will generally be found to be at the bottom of every
disturbance of the masses in India, who are so intensely credulous, and
whose minds are very easily worked upon by the cry that those who wish to
incite rebellion generally raise first: ' Your religion is in danger.'
Such a cry once set in motion will affect even the more intelligent
natives of India. In no country in the world does rumour, and especially
false rumour, run more swiftly. A recent Governor of Madras, Lord Ampthill,
once appositely said, ' A slander runs twice round the world while Truth
is putting on her boots.' A report once started is universally believed.
It was not an ignorant native, but a high-caste and loyal native officer,
who, at the time of the great Mutiny, speaking of the general belief that
the Government wished to take away the caste of the people, remarked in
perfect sincerity 'What everybody is saying must be true.' Munro wrote to
his father an account of the affair at Vellore, and quoted some of the
regulations that had caused such offence: 'Caste marks and earrings on
parade were forbidden; shaving was ordered; the shape of the hair on the
upper lip was to be regulated, and a specially-shaped turban was ordered
to be worn.' These orders to an Englishman would appear trifling enough,
and perhaps even a subject for ridicule, but, to an orthodox Hindu, they
would be disturbing in the highest degree to his religious prejudices.
An interval of rest for Munro was now to follow: he had
been absent from home for twenty-seven years, and was now forty-six years
of age. His decision to take furlough called forth a well-deserved eulogy
of his work in the ceded districts from the Madras Government. The
dispatch that went to the Court of Directors referred to Munro's
'exertions in the advancement of the public service under circumstances of
success unparalleled in the records of this, or probably of any other
Government'. Munro's correspondence at this time expresses his mixed
feelings: pleasure at the idea of going home was mingled with regret at
leaving India. He anticipated, however, a speedy return to India, and,
naturally, after his successful career he was ambitious to obtain a higher
sphere of action. In one of his letters he wrote: 'I am not satisfied with
the subordinate line in which I have moved, and with my having been kept
from holding any distinguished military command by want of rank; I shall
never be able to sit down quietly to enjoy private life, and I shall
probably return to India, in quest of what I may never obtain.'
As a matter of fact, he remained in England for a
period of seven years, much longer than he had ever anticipated, but he
was not idle during this enforced period of leisure from official duties;
for one thing, he took up the study of chemistry. The study of science has
often beguiled the leisure hours of great statesmen: the late Marquis of
Salisbury, one of England's most distinguished premiers, spent many of his
leisure hours in his laboratory. Munro was also consulted by the Court of
Directors in connexion with the subject of the renewal of the Company's
Charter in 1813; his services on the occasion have been thus recorded :
'Among all those whose opinions were sought on that occasion, Colonel
Munro made the deepest impression upon the House by the comprehensiveness
of his views, by the promptitude and intelligibility of his answers, and
by the judgement and sound discretion which characterized every sentiment
to which lie gave utterance.' The Court of Directors recognized his
services by giving him the appointment of President of a special
Commission to inquire into and reform the judicial system in the
Presidencies of Bengal and Madras.
Munro returned to India again in the year 1814 :it
seems strange in these days of quick locomotion to read his description of
his voyage out as 'a quick voyage of sixteen weeks '. He had married just
before returning to India, and not unnaturally, after his long period of
bachelorhood, he found the etiquette of paying and returning visits that
his marriage involved somewhat uncongenial and irksome, but lie accepted
the position as one ofthe necessary responsibilities of his new state. He
found it hard to work with the Madras Government at first, owing to the
divided counsels that prevailed, a not unusual characteristic apparently
of the Madras Government in these early days of British rule. In his usual
shrewd and masterful way he wrote to the India Board suggesting that they
should write out ' we order ' or ' we direct ', in place of the usual
formula ' we wish ', or ' we propose '.
Notwithstanding the opposition he had to encounter in
the course of his work on the Judicial Commission, the new regulations
framed by that Commission were eventually passed into law ; Munro's share
of the task has been thus recorded: 'They are a monument not only of
Munro's force of character in accomplishing his object against the most
powerful opposition, but of his high administrative ability and
statesmanlike views.' The changes made were all in the direction of a more
efficient, and at the same time, a simpler system of administration. Thus
the superintendence of the police, and the functions of the district
magistrate were transferred from the judge to the collector. Hereditary
village officials were to be employed mainly as police. A system of
Village and District iPanchayats, as the simple village Tribunals, or
Courts of Arbitration, are styled, was legalized, and power was even given
to selected head-men of villages to hear suits. Munro attached great
importance to the Panchayats, as being adapted to native habits and
usages.
On the completion of this work, Munro expressed his
keen desire for military employment : he was essentially a soldier first,
and a statesman afterwards. Operations had commenced against the Mahrattas
and the Pindaris, and Munro had asked for the command of the subsidiary
forces of Haidarabad and Nagpur. His wish, however, was not to be at once
gratified, and the only reply he received was his appointment to the
commissionership of the Southern Mahratta country, which had been recently
ceded by the Peshwa. This was a purely civil appointment, and Munro could
not refrain from expressing his annoyance in these terms: 'I regret deeply
to feel for the first time the army in advance shut against me.' At the
same time he accepted the situation loyally.
His patience was at last rewarded, and he was given a
command as brigadier of the division of the army detailed to reduce the
Southern Mahratta country. The confidence and goodwill of the people which
he had won during the short period of his civil administration was now to
stand him in good stead. He had already, in correspondence with time
Marquis of Hastings, given his theory as to the best way of dealing with
predatory hordes, such as the Pindaris, which was, ' to carry time war
into the enemy's country ': he now proceeded to put this theory into
practice by occupying the districts these hordes were wont to assemble in.
His plan of procedure was, while reducing their strongholds, to
simultaneously issue conciliatory proclamations to the people: he thus
kept the enemy fully employed in the defence of their own possessions. The
people of the territories he thus invaded had such confidence in him that
they actually assisted in driving out their own masters, and in collecting
the revenue for the British. The strongholds of the enemy were all taken
possession of by his Irregulars in the name of Thomas Munro. Bahadur '.
Sir John Malcolm, writing of the modus operandi of Munro, summed up his
qualities in the telling phrase, ' a master-workman.' As usual his
correspondence was full of humorous descriptions of men and things: in one
of his letters lie drew a contrast between the Mahratta freebooter and the
Highland cateran, Rob Roy. 'The difference between the two,' he wrote, 'is
that the one does from choice what the other did from necessity: for a
Mahratta would rather get ten pounds by plunder than one hundred pounds by
an honest calling.'
Munro was now again compelled to take furlough to
England : his incessant labours had injured his eyesight. He remained at
home for about a year. He found honours awaiting him this time, as his
fame had preceded him. Mr. George Canning, in proposing a vote of thanks
to the Army, after the termination of the Mahrat.ta War, thus alluded to
his services: 'Than Colonel Thomas Munro, Europe never produced a more
accomplished statesman, and India, so fertile in heroes, a more skilful
soldier.' He was promoted to the rank of Major-General; and, on receiving
the appointment of the Governorship of Madras, was created a Knight
Commander of the Bath. Mr. Canning, in mentioning his name to the Court of
Directors, spoke of the usual practice of appointing men of eminence in
England to the Indian Governorships, but he added that three men had so
distinguished themselves in India that it was determined to offer them
these high posts: the three were Malcolm, Elphinstone, and Munro. At the
banquet given in Munro's honour, before lie left England, and at which,
among other distinguished men, his old friend, the Duke of Wellington, was
present, Mr. Canning again paid a remarkable tribute to him : 'We bewilder
ourselves,' he said, 'in this part of time world with opinions respecting
the sources from which power is derived; some suppose it to arise with the
people themselves, while others entertain a different, view; all, however,
are agreed that it should be exercised for the people ; if ever an
appointment took place to which this might, be ascribed as the
distinguishing motive, it is that which we have now come together to
celebrate.' Munro, writing to a friend, said of this speech, 'It is
worthwhile to be a. Governor to be spoken of in such a manner by such a
man.'
The leading principles of Munro's administration as
Governor are given in a letter he wrote to Mr. Canning 'Time relief of the
people from novel and oppressive modes of judicial process, the
improvement of internal administration by the employment of Europeans and
Indians in those duties for which they are respectively best suited, and
the strengthening of the attachment of Indians to our Government by
maintaining their ancient institutions and usages.' He continually urged
the wider employment of Indians in the higher administrative charges, as
the one necessary condition of an improvement in their moral character :
he thus prepared the way for the reforms which were afterwards inaugurated
by Lord William Bentinck in this direction. He saw the benefits that would
accrue from the introduction of a general system of education amongst the
people, and lie wrote thus on the subject: 'Whatever expense Government
may incur in the education of the people will be amply repaid by the
improvement of the country, for the general diffusion of knowledge is
inseparably followed by more orderly habits, by increasing industry, by a
taste for the comforts of life, by exertions to acquire them, and by the
growing prosperity of the people.' His views, moreover, of the lines on
which the higher education of the people should proceed, were very sound:
'A knowledge of their own literature,' he held, 'should be extended among
them side by side with the language and literature of England.' It was,
indeed, on these lines that the Government at a later period, as seen in
time dispatch of Sir Charles Wood in 1854, contemplated that higher
education in India should proceed; it is unfortunate, but perhaps
inevitable, that, as time went on, this view was lost sight of, and the
Indian vernaculars were practically ignored. It was left to the late
Viceroy of India, Lord Curzon, to endeavour to bring education in India
back on to the right track again, by insisting on greater prominence being
given to the languages and literatures of India. Munro always upheld the
sound policy of religious neutrality for officers of Government; this is
shown by the rebuke lie gave to a sub-collector of one of the districts of
his Province, who had been displaying an excess of religious zeal, which
had led him to transgress the rules of religious neutrality 'The best way
for a collector,' lie wrote to this man, ' to instruct the natives is to
set them an example in his own conduct to try to settle their disputes
with each other, and to prevent their going to law : to bear patiently all
their complaints against himself and his servants, and bad seasons, and to
afford them all the relief in his power, and, if he can do nothing more,
to give them at least good words.'
The first Burmese War occurred during Munro's tenure of
office, and he was able to be of material assistance to the
Governor-General, Lord Amherst, chiefly in facilitating the dispatch of
troops and material. His long experience, moreover, of Indian warfare,
warfare, and knowledge of Asiatic character, enabled him to be a wise
counsellor. He received a very handsome e acknowledgement front he
Governor-General in Council for his services, as well as the thanks of the
Court of Directors ; Lord Goderich, in the House of Lords, declared that
'it was impossible for any one to form an adequate idea of the efforts
made by Sir Thomas Munro, at the head of the Madras Government, to further
the successful issue of the campaign.'
Munro kept up his old habit of living in tents whenever
he went on the district tours he was so fond of, and which he valued as
the best means of obtaining that intimate acquaintance with the people so
essential for an administrator. The difficulties of touring in his days
were far greater than they are in these days of better communications ;
but, in some of the more backward Provinces, many of these difficulties
still remain. In this way, lie managed to renew his old acquaintance with
the districts of the Bara-Mahal, and the ceeded districts. Writing of one
of these districts, Cuddapah, he said ' I still like this country,
notwithstanding its heat; it is full of industrious cultivators, and I
like to recognize among them a great number of my old acquaintances, who,
I hope, are as glad to see me, as I them.' In 1826, Munro had applied to
be relieved of his office, but as some delay occurred in the appointment
of his successor, he set out for a farewell tour in the ceded districts.
There is a legend still surviving in connexion with this last tour of his.
He was marching among the hills in the Cuddapah district, when he suddenly
looked up at the steep cliffs above him, and remarked 'What a beautiful
garland of flowers they have stretched across the valley!' His companions
all looked up, but could see nothing: 'Why, there it is,' he again
remarked, 'all made of gold.' Again they looked up and saw nothing:
thereupon one of his old servants exclaimed: 'Alas, master! A great and
good man will soon die.' Very shortly after this, Munro was attacked with
cholera, and though it was at first hoped that he would recover, it was
not to be: he died the same evening. His sweetness of temper was never
more conspicuously displayed than during his last illness: during one of
the rallies, he exclaimed, in a tone of peculiar sweetness, 'It is almost
worth while to be ill to be so kindly nursed.' Among those near him at the
time of his death was the future famous missionary and Tamil scholar,
Henry Bower, then a boy. Munro passed away calmly on the night of July 6,
1827, at the age of sixty-six.
In the Gazette Extraordinary issued by the Government
of India, this tribute was paid to his memory: 'His sound and vigorous
understanding, his transcendent talents, his indefatigable application,
his varied stores of knowledge, his attainments as an Oriental scholar,
his intimate acquaintance with the habits and feelings of the native
soldiers and inhabitants generally, his patience, temper, facility of
access, and kindness of manner, would have ensured him distinction in any
line of employment. These qualities were admirably adapted to the duties
which he had to perform in organizing the resources, and establishing the
tranquillity of those Provinces, where his latest breath has been drawn,
and where he had long been known by the appellation of "The Father of the
People".'
At a public meeting held in Madrasto concert measures
to perpetuate his memory, his death was spoken of as a public calamity;
one of the speakers at the meeting said:
His justice, benevolence, frankness, and hospitality
were no less conspicuous thami the extraordinary faculties of his mind.'
Various memorials in his memory were erected throughout his territory: a
grove of trees was planted, and • well dug, near the place where he died ;
a similar well and • rest-house were constructed at Gooty, where for
several years food was distributed gratuitously in his honour; but his
best memorial lay in the affections of his people.
Munro was pre-eminently the soldier-statesman his
military qualities were recognized by so great a master of the art of war
as the Duke of Wellington, his administrative qualities were even greater.
His most distinguishing characteristic, perhaps,-was his modesty and
unassuming nature. For nearly twenty-eight years without a break, during
his first spell of service, he had worked in silence, adopting as his
motto the noble lines of the blind patriot bard of England, John Milton:-
To know That which before us lies in daily life
Is the prime wisdom: what is more is fume, Or emptiness, or fond
impertinence And renders us in things that most concern,
Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek.
Mr. George Canning, in the course of that magnificent
eulogy on Munro already referred to, thus noted this great characteristic:
'Apart from the public eye, and without the opportunities of early special
notice, was employed a man whose name I should be sorry to pass over in
silence.' The greater portion of his work was done in silence, but history
has provided that his memory shall not be held in silence, and Lord
Dalhousie, in some correspondence he once had with Sir Henry Lawrence, was
able to say in proof of this assertion 'All the world unites in
acknowledging the talents and merits of Sir Thomas Munro.'
The legend, still current in his old Presidency, of an
incident that occurred on his last tour has been referred to, and how his
old retainer had interpreted the sign to mean that a great and good man
was about to die: this was a true forecast: a great and good man passed
away in the person of Sir Thomas Munro.
Life of Sir Thomas
Munro (1849)
Sir Thomas Munro
And the British Settlement of the Madras Presidency (1906)
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