Published: Pioneer, 10 November 1888; Pioneer Mail, 14 November 1888.

Attribution: In Scrapbook 4 (28/4, p. 91).

Text: Pioneer.

Notes: Lord Lansdowne (Henry Petty-Fitzmaurice, fifth Marquess of Lansdowne, 1845–1927) succeeded Lord Dufferin as viceroy at the end of 1888. What Dufferin in ‘A Free Hand’ is imagined as saying to Lansdowne is developed at length in RK's dramatic monologue, ‘One Viceroy Resigns’, published in the Pioneer, 7 December 1888, and collected in Departmental Ditties, 4th edn, 1890.

Reprinted in the Martindell–Ballard pamphlets and in Harbord, iv, 2119–21.

While we cannot recommend that the mother-country should run any serious risk in altering its system of currency to assist its dependency, we think that the Government of the latter should be allowed a free hand to deal with the problem as it considers best in its own interest. Vide Minute of Dissent of Currency Commission.

“How interesting!” said L-d D-ff-r-n as he read the telegrams of the Pioneer of the 9th. “Even I could hardly have said, ‘Go to the Devil!’ in more graceful terms.” He threw open the window and looked towards the blue haze of the plains of Umballa, and the land he was shortly to quit for ever. “Free hand, indeed!” he said, contemptuously. “A free dinner would be more to the point, as L-nsd-wne will discover.” Then he fell a-musing upon his successor, and the Aide-de-Camp who was cording up the boxes in the hall heard something that sounded like a quotation from Plot and Passion. “L-nsd-wne! L-nsd-wne! after me!” said H-s Exc-ll-ncy, and sighed deeply. A few days later he was on his way to Calcutta to give over charge, and had a man been daring enough to clamber upon the Viceregal “Special” as it fled southward he would have seen H-s Exc-ll-ncy dancing a weird and wonderful saraband in the saloon carriage, while Sir D. M. W-ll-ce smiled an austere smile and beat time on the lid of his office-box. It was not altogether joy at returning to England that moved our Viceroy to this unusual demonstration. Sir D. M. W-ll-ce could have enlightened the world had he chosen to open his lips; but he was mute, as a Private Secretary should be.