My three years in Manipur : $b and escape from the recent mutinyGrimwood, Ethel St. Clair
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My three years in Manipur : $b and escape from the recent mutiny
Grimwood, Ethel St. Clair
Grimwood, Ethel St. Clair, 1867-1928; Manipur (India)
If he had his faults, he had his virtues also. He was very enterprising,
fond of building bridges, and improving the roads about the capital. Like
the Senaputti, he was a keen soldier, enjoyed watching good shooting,
and had been in his younger days a first-rate shot himself. He was an
obstinate old man, and it was very difficult to get him to listen to
any proposition if it did not please him at the outset; but when once he
had promised to get anything done, he did not go back from his word, and
one knew it was reliable. He lived in a large house some distance to the
south of the palace, with his family. Of these, only two sons were of any
importance—the eldest, called Yaima, and the second son, a very handsome
young fellow, named Lumphel Singh. The latter was perhaps the most
influential, and my husband always said he thought that he would take
his father’s place in the state when anything happened to the old man.
Lumphel was the favourite aide-de-camp of the Maharajah, and he was the
officer in charge of the hundred and twenty-eight miles of road between
Manipur and Cachar. At durbars he used to stand behind the Maharajah’s
chair with a very magnificent uniform covered with gold lace, and a gold
turban.
Yaima, the eldest brother, was not good-looking at all, but a nice young
fellow, and very hard-working. He came with us on our journey to Kohima
at the time of which I write, and was very obliging, and ready to put
himself out in any way in order that we might be comfortable, which,
considering that we were departing, as we then thought, for good from the
place, was very courteous on his part. We were very sorry to part with
him at Mao Thana.
The scenery on the road between Kohima and Manipur is magnificent. Some
of the hills run as high as nine thousand feet, and yet until you are
within three days’ journey of Kohima the road is almost level, winding
in and out along a narrow valley. Forests of oak abound the whole way,
and in the cold weather the trees lose their foliage, making it look very
English-like and wintry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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