How Meer Jafar Ali Khan, the prince of Surat, did not bend to the will of British East India Company
Unknown to the House, the day before the current debate Smith as President of the Board of Control of the Company had called for an urgent meeting of the Court of Directors and other Board members. He had related the fact that on June 11, during the first reading of the Bill, almost the entire House seemed to be in favour of the Hindustani Prince. Utter embarrassment and disgrace loomed for the Company. A decision was taken to try and sway the House away from reading the Bill as a Private one. But if that failed then Smith would be allowed the freedom to propose a compromise. What that might be would be decided by Smith in the moment.
And so, seeing the debate slipping from his hands, Smith took it upon himself as President of Board to make the offer he made. Smith believed that in doing this the Company would be seen as willing to compromise and to reach an understanding. If Jafar accepted, he would be made to feel that he was not returning empty-handed to Hindustan while the Company would retain half the pension and half the estates. If Jafar rejected the bargain he might yet be portrayed by the Company as a greedily inflexible man.
All eyes were now on Jafar. Seated in the second row he held his nerve. All that Smith was getting from him was a cold stare. Smith reiterated his offer, first looking at the Speaker and then directly at Jafar: “I am willing the claimant should have an opportunity of considering this proposal – I mean the gentleman himself [Jafar].”
Smith was compelling Jafar to say yes; and in doing so he was trying to cut off Kelly and Perry. Looking at the two and then directly at Jafar, Smith continued:
I mean the gentleman himself [Jafar], because with due respect to my honourable friend [Kelly], I have seen the heat with which he has engaged in this cause and I know the energy and ability of this honourable friend [Kelly] behind me, but I think it should be considered by the claimant himself.
Jafar kept calm, sensing this was a trap. If he said yes then it was all over. Seconds ticked by. There was silence in the House as everyone waited in anticipation. But still Smith received only a coldly unflinching stare. Kelly looked at Jafar. It was a clear sign of disapproval and an opportunity for Kelly to jump in: “I wish I could accede to the suggestion that is proposed," said Kelly, "but it is impossible for me to do so.”
The Company’s emergency gambit had failed. With Jafar and Kelly having rejected the offer, another MP rose and spoke, this time in favour of Jafar, this Mr Napier looking at him all the while: “My feeling about the Bill is that it is a claim of justice and the case embodied in the Bill is well founded in all its parts, never was there a just measure of Parliament.”
The business was drawing to a close. Kelly kept looking at the clock. He wanted the vote to be called but Smith’s argument, driven by the desire to forestall matters, had taken a great deal of time, while other MPs still needed to speak. Kelly was worried. It seemed Smith might have done just enough to push proceedings toward yet another reading. By offering half the pension and half the estates, he had bought time and some support. Another MP, by the name of Wigram, rose to speak of how liberal the Company was, and that the revenues of Hindustan should not be directed by a Private Bill to a private person. The Speaker then indicated that the day was going to close and that the next reading would occur on June 24, 1856.
Just then an MP, Danby Seymour who felt tremendously for Jafar rose and pointing at the Hindustani Prince while looking directly at Hogg, said:
I feel the highest esteem and respect for the gentleman [Jafar]. I am quite aware that he is of an ancient respectable family and that he only does what he believes to be the duty towards his children.
Seymour couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t forgotten Hogg’s insult to a father fighting for his daughters, an insult he had thought intolerable. The day ended. As Jafar and his allies made their way out, little was said. Seymour’s last words for the afternoon had struck a poignant note and the heavy air in the House of Commons that had echoed with the cry for justice by Kelly laid heavy on all. Kelly and Perry would now have to close the Bill and push for a vote on June 24, itself. If the Company was successful in holding out with delaying tactics then the Bill would be considered defeated. The next six days would be exceptionally anxious ones for Jafar.
**
Intense discussions ensued between Jafar, Kelly and Perry. Jafar voiced the opinion in no uncertain terms that he hadn’t sailed to England to return with only a half of the pension and half the estates. It was all or nothing. While Kelly and Perry lauded his passion, they knew that if the vote did not happen on the 24th then the cause would collapse. The Company could easily rescind the offer of half the pension and estates, and so Jafar would lose that, too. And so the major question was about how to play the day – how to manage each allotted hour of the session so as to ensure the vote happened.
They knew time was of the essence. Kelly debated whether he should write and deliver another passionate speech that would push the collective sentiment over the line. But he abandoned that thought after much consideration. He did not want to take up too much time of the House. He believed he had made a strong impact on the conscience of the MPs and that the impact would last. Perry, too, would keep any arguments brief, allowing enough time for all MPs to have a say and ensure the vote happened.
On the morning of June 24, Jafar and Mary Jane went for an early walk in Little Venice. It was a clear summer morning and as they strolled by the canal some passers-by recognised Jafar and approached him to wish him luck. Some denizens of Maida Vale who were now well acquainted with their famous Oriental neighbour waved and offered encouraging words from their balconies and windows. Mary Jane held her man’s arm tight in admiration. He looked at her with love such as he had never felt for another. It was in the most testing time of life that Mary Jane was the woman he found standing by him.
As had been the norm set by Jafar, Kelly and Perry arrived at 15, Warwick Avenue to breakfast and ride to Parliament together. Kelly and Perry hoped to brief Jafar about how they planned to play the day. But Jafar wanted to relax everyone’s nerves. On the most crucial morning of his life he elected to speak about matters closest to his heart. He talked about his girls: Ladli, who was now growing so fast, and the cheerful Rahimun. He told Kelly and Perry about how fascinated the girls were with the ways of the English: their customs, clothes and cuisine. He spoke to them passionately about the rural life in Kamandiyah; of the river Badar on the banks of which he was born, and how the canal at Little Venice reminded him of Badar’s tributaries. He spoke about the crops his farmers grew – the watermelons in particular. He spoke of his love for horses and how he had been trained in riding and shooting by the proud Kathis. He longed to be back there. He wanted Kamandiyah to become the beautiful refuge for him and Mary Jane.
The two Englishmen listened and seemed to forget the seriousness of the hours that lay ahead. Kelly and Perry also spoke of their own families, lightening the morning even further. Dressed in his lucky crimson robe, Jafar then made his way with Kelly and Perry to the light blue carriage that waited to carry them to Parliament. Pressure had given way to a feeling of serenity in all three men. Again they entered the House of Commons and took their seats. Kelly informed Jafar it was a full house of 241 MPs. Jafar looked around. Most eyes were on him. Kelly pointed out to Jafar the Deputy Chairman of the Company who had decided to make his presence felt on this day. Afraid of defeat, the Court of Directors hoped his presence might add some weight to their arguments. But what unfolded on this day was something Jafar and his allies had never anticipated.
On the announcement of the Speaker, Kelly rose and in a calm voice made a very brief statement, hoping that on this day justice would be served. He didn’t say more. It was now the turn of a man who had vehemently opposed the passing of the Bill: James Hogg. He had planned to make this his day. Hogg had earned the disapproval of several MPs for the personal insult he had hurled at Jafar, but this time he wanted to come back yet more strongly. Hogg had completely disapproved of the compromise proposed by Smith of half the pension and half the estates. He unleashed a speech that was steeped in anger and hatred.
Looking at Kelly he began: “I will maintain my opinion to the last, unawed by majorities.” Then, looking at his colleague Smith who had proposed the fudging halfway-house offer, he said:
My honourable friend has adverted to a compromise. I do not care what opinion any honourable gentleman entertains who hears me. I say, whether it is an opinion favourable to this man [ Jafar], or against him, whatever your opinion is, this compromise is discreditable, not to use a harsher term.
Hogg seemed to be so riven with anger that he lost his train of thought. He then spent the next few minutes contradicting the stand of the Company, of which he himself was a Director. Then he suddenly issued a claim that neither he nor the Court of Directors had any objection to the private estates being restored.
The Company was failing. Contradictions seemed to be issuing from its representatives. All in the House knew by now that Hogg’s arguments were utterances that were completely unhinged and incoherent. Looking down at his papers and aware that Hogg was failing, Kelly couldn’t suppress a smile, to which Hogg reacted frustratingly: “I do not know why the right honourable gentleman [Kelly] should smile. I hope he would say it and rise and say what he means.”
Kelly ignored Hogg and let him continue to engineer a debacle for the Company. For the next twenty minutes Hogg continued extolling Wellesley’s annexation of Surat on the grounds that it brought better government. Smith and Hogg then contradicted each other on various aspects of the Treaty, and examples given to correlate the case with others. But no one seemed interested in intra-Company bickering and Hogg’s speech was interrupted by voices frequently trying to bring him back to Treaty violations. The next couple of hours saw the Company’s representatives dramatically turn on each other and stoop to levels of ridiculous personal accusations.
Unable to take his colleagues’ imprudence at dismissing the compromise he had suggested, an embarrassed Smith rose and said:
While I agree with many of my friends [Hogg’s] opinions he has exaggerated them in a manner that can be hardly justified. My honourable friend [Hogg] is totally incompetent. That he is a most able advocate, I admit, if an advocate can be able who so overloads his statements as to weary the attention of his auditors and who states his case in such a manner as to array hostility against him, instead of the conciliate prejudices in his favour. I think I could prove to the House that the greater part of my embarrassment has risen from my resting upon the slippery support of the Court of Directors [Hogg being one].
Jafar, Kelly and Perry looked on, holding back excitement as Company officials tore at one another. They were falling to pieces. Their reputation was crumbling on the floor of the Commons. Smith and Hogg who were supposed to be on the same side were engaging in the most unbelievable arguments against each other. It was destroying the Company’s stand which they were supposed to guard: Smith continued lashing out at Hogg. Accusing him of being “in a habit of assuming that Parliament attends to him as if he spoke on behalf of the entire Company,” Smith then pointed at the Deputy Chairman, almost pleading for support on the compromise, saying: “I speak in the presence of the Deputy Chairman. I believe we have perfectly agreed in this matter [the compromise].”
He then continued:
When my honourable friend [Hogg] taunts me will any man say I was not at liberty to form my own judgement? Does he mean to say that a body of men are always to maintain their position and stand like gods and have no permission ever to frame any other decision than their predecessors? I utterly abjure that doctrine. I am bound to tell the House since my honourable friend [Hogg] has talked of compromise that since this case first came to me it’s about compromise. I feel mortified at what my honourable friend [Hogg] has been saying.
Then looking at Jafar, Smith again offered something unexpected: an out of Parliament settlement on the condition that Jafar withdrew the Bill:
I believe whatever the compromises, they should be done in private. If this could be settled out of doors and the Bill withdrawn it would be an infinitely better conclusion. I stated that with the sanction of the Court of Directors I was prepared to do so.
Not only was the Company in complete disarray and totally divided in opinion: they were now desperately – under Smith, the President of the Board – looking for a way to get out of Parliament. The ground was fast shifting under the Company’s feet. Smith was almost pleading with Jafar for an outside settlement and hoping that Jafar might get Kelly and Perry to step in and withdraw the Bill in favour of the private arrangement. Smith waited nervously hoping to hear something in his favour from the second bench where Jafar, Kelly and Perry sat. He looked at Jafar.
Fourteen years of struggle came alive in Jafar’s mind. He thought of how as a 17 year old his destiny found its way as the custodian of the House of Surat. For years the Company had hounded him in Hindustan. For years they had blocked every road to justice for him. They had brought him, his father and his girls to the brink of ruin. They had robbed his girls of their birthright. Now in their own Parliament, he had with Kelly and Perry led the most daring legal counterattack. The Company was on the ropes, looking desperately towards him for a settlement, hoping he would give a sign to withdraw the Bill. How the tables had turned! The hunters were now the hunted. The House watched in silence again and all eyes were on Jafar. There wasn’t a sign of emotion on his face. Smith had his answer. Jafar’s cold stare signalled no compromise. He was going to take the Bill to a vote.
[Excerpted with permissions of Roli Books from Surat – Fall of a Port, Rise of a Prince by Moin Mir.]