Even Viceroys have a good deal to “put up with.” First and foremost they have to act on orders from home, after which, if the measures do not prove successful or satisfactory, the blame of course falls on the Viceroy’s head; then when settling down and getting into his stride, finding help and comfort in some of his staff--say the Military Secretary, that office bringing the individual more closely into association with him than the rest, forming an important part of his daily life--it has not been unknown for one Military Secretary after another to find that their health will not stand the strain, or that they wish to return to their regiment, another has married a wife who will not live in India and so on, so resignation follows on resignation, leaving the unhappy Viceroy in a constant state of explanations and instructions to new-comers, and with nobody to lean on, while possibly feeling anxious over work of which he has had no previous experience and hardly knows where to turn to find someone who does. Occasionally, perhaps, Viceroy and members of the staff find “incompatibility” a reason for divorce.
The cold weather of 1881-2 proved to the Beresford-Stewart partners that they had a good thing in their new purchase Camballa, besides winning the Viceroy’s Cup, he also won the Burdwarn Cup. Many people speculated as to this horse’s lasting powers, as he stood rather straight on his pasterns, and in India the ground is very hard. However, he did all that was required of him, caused no disappointment, and then was sold again at no loss, so was not a bad bargain. Lord William also won a race himself on Alien; his pretty little Australian mare Fleur-de-Lys, which he had bought from Mr. Abbott, the Tirhoot planter, also won the Tom Thumb Stakes for him. This little mare was charming as well as pretty, and as intelligent as a dog. She had a great affection for her syce, who had been her close companion from the time she arrived in India, and her owner used to give his friends little exhibitions of her affection at times. He would hide the syce somewhere, and then let Fleur-de-Lys loose out of her stable, telling the man to call her, while he kept dodging about hiding from her, but she always found him in spite of all the dodging, whinnying with pleasure when she came up to him. If anyone caught hold of the syce and pretended to beat him and he howled, the mare would go straight for whoever it was she supposed was hurting her friend and companion, would savage and trample on the offender if she could get at him. So great was her affection for her syce that it was unnecessary when moving about the country to put a bit into her mouth, for she would follow him anywhere. She was eventually sold amongst others to the Prince of Jodhpore, where she would be well cared for.