as quite cut off, and a
journey up there was a serious undertaking. There were no railways or
steamers, and the traveller had to go in a budgerow, a sort of
house-boat, and the journey took at least a month each way. Tea was
then, of course, quite in its infancy.

LORD MAYO.

Of all the Viceroys in my time the most popular, officially, socially,
and in every way, was Lord Mayo (1869 to 1872). He was essentially a
ruler, a man of commanding presence and outstanding ability, a lover
of sport of all kinds, in short a Governor-General in every sense of
the word.

[Illustration: Present view of Medical College Hospital]

[Illustration: _Photo. by Johnston & Hoffmann_ The Medical College
Hospital.]

[Illustration: Scene in Eden Gardens.]

He never once allowed it to escape his memory, nor did he permit
anyone else to forget, that he was the absolute and actual
representative of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, and that in him was
personified the very embodiment of her rule and authority in India. He
thoroughly understood the Indian appreciation of the spectacular, and
this understanding was doubtless the reason for the punctilious
dignity with which he invested all his public and semi-public
functions, while the hospitality at Government House during his regime
was truly regal. His statue on the maidan gives a good idea of his
commanding appearance. It used to be one of the sights of the cold
weather on State occasions, and a spectacle once witnessed not soon
forgotten, to see Lord Mayo sally forth out of the gates of Government
House. Seated in an open carriage-and-four, faced by his military
secretary and senior aide-de-camp, wearing on the breast of his
surtout the insignia of the Order of the Star of India, looking like
what he really was, a king of men, and sweep rapidly across the
maidan, almost hidden from sight by a dense cloud of the bodyguard
enveloping the viceregal equipage, accoutred in their picturesque,
long, bright scarlet tunics, hessian boots, and semi-barbaric
head-dress, with lances in rest, and pennons, red and white, gaily
fluttering in the breeze.

He was beloved by all who had the good fortune to be closely
associated with him, and when he was struck down by the hand of a
Wahabi life-convict on the occasion of his visit to the Andamans, in
the cold weather of 1871-72, I have no hesitation in saying that all
felt they had sustained a personal loss. I shall never forget the
thrill of horror and g