by Roland Perry
Once the 66-year-old Gladstone stepped down, Victoria demonstrated she still had certain powers by moving with alacrity and a sense of vengeance to replace him. She was motivated by the need to push the government on and also to prepare for her own spring vacation in Europe and the wedding of another grandchild.Victoria, pointedly, did not consult Gladstone about who should succeed him. Initially she chose Lord Rosebery from within the Liberals, when his 58-year-old rival, Sir William Harcourt, whom Victoria did not like, was judged by many to be better equipped for the job. But Rosebery’s agenda seemed to her to be the same as Gladstone’s, without his conviction. In the end she had to call for the conservative Lord Salisbury. His government lasted a few months only and Victoria was forced to ask Gladstone to take over as prime minister again. He attempted to pass a Bill granting Ireland home rule, but it was defeated in July 1886.Victoria was delighted, even if it meant more government games of musical chairs. There was an election. Salisbury took the prime ministership once more.
Victoria was engaged in her role with more concentration than ever before. Her popularity increased. In the three years since John Brown’s death, instead of mourning him for a prolonged period, she had busied herself with work and attended to family matters, all the time taking pride in her expanding family, which was marrying into Royalty in several European countries. But Victoria missed constant male company, which she had had with few breaks since her first ever affair began with Elphinstone at the age of fifteen. Most people, especially women of that era, would have resigned themselves to a single life in their late sixties. But not this queen and empress. She was still restless for attractive male company. Victoria would not rule out finding a way to command it, mainly because, as queen, she could.
41
VICTORIA’S NEW PASSION
In the summer of 1887,Victoria was enjoying her Jubilee celebrations, although she did not care to be reminded by her bedroom mirror that she was now 68 and very much a rotund, ageing monarch. Her years still did not stop her being enamoured with the company of attractive younger men. In keeping with her Elphinstone-generated lifelong infatuation with India and her role as empress, she was ‘given’ the first of her Indian servants to mark her milestone.They were supposed to wait on Indian princes attending the Jubilee. The two servants who caught her experienced eye were the 24-year-old Abdul Karim, who was tall, dark-bearded, dark-eyed, handsome and ingratiating, and the solid, pleasant Mohammed Bukhsh. Karim was the most attractive, ‘beautiful’ male she had met since Duleep Singh 34 years earlier in 1854, and before that, Albert in 1839. Singh had disappointed her by his relentless womanising in England. Worse he was now nothing like his statue in the Durbar Room at Osborne House. He had become a portly 50, and unappetising to Victoria. Karim, a clerk, who had worked in the gaol at Agra in Northern India, was her new piece of human exotica.
The Indians kissed her feet when they were introduced at Windsor. Victoria enjoyed it and looked forward to it every day. She had them stand behind her at breakfast, where, using a golden spoon, she ate her customary egg in a golden cup.They were told to wear ‘dark blue dress’, although she did not care what colour turban or sash they wore, as long as they did not clash with her yellow cutlery. Karim rose quickly from servant-waiter to secretary, then cook. He had only prepared simple curries for a week before his elevation to ‘Munshi’, meaning teacher. But he could hardly read or write English. Victoria overcame this by charging him with teaching her Hindustani. She asserted that learning this language would help her understand India and Indians because she had had little contact with them before. Victoria had less fortune in convincing her family, courtiers and onlookers, who could see that she was enchanted by this striking foreigner, with his alluring appearance and fawning obedience. He was a ‘very strict master’ she noted, although ‘a perfect gentleman’. She told those around her how intelligent and quiet he was. She was helping him with his English.Victoria thought he would soon be able ‘to copy a good deal’ for her.
There was added concern from onlookers with some of the phrases she was learning by heart. ‘You will miss the Munshi very much,’ raised eyebrows. ‘Hold me tight!’ wrinkled observers’ brows. Victoria was alone in the royal court and in the family in appreciating Abdul Karim. Everyone else found him pretentious and irritating. Victoria heard about these attitudes and put them down to the racism she abhorred. She gave him a comfortable bungalow at Windsor.The other courtiers, being strictly hierarchical, were annoyed to learn that he could enter the billiard room and have meals in the household dining area. Soon he was following her to Balmoral and Osborne. Smitten with his appearance, and at ease with his nature, she commissioned Austrian artist Rudolph Swoboda to paint his portrait, keeping a copy for herself. Victoria attempted to cover for her infatuation by suggesting to Karim that he might like his wife to come out from India, but no-one around her was fooled by this gesture. The Munshi was an Indian version of John Brown. Bertie, for one, was angst-ridden that yet another favoured male companion seemed more important to his mother than him. There was also concern that Hindus would be upset by Victoria favouring a Muslim.Worse, the secretary of state for India, Lord George Hamilton, worried that the Munshi might be a security risk. He advised that he should not be allowed to read confidential papers. Karim was a close friend of a young lawyer, Rafiuddin Ahmed, who was linked to the Muslim Patriotic League. There was some evidence that state secrets were being sent to Afghanistan. Victoria’s defence here was that the Munshi did not read English well enough to know which documents were important. As her Indian secretary he was ‘handy’ for drying the ink on her signatures. After some hesitation on Karim’s part, Victoria finally organised for his wife to join him, a move that did a little to dissipate rumours that Victoria’s relationship transcended the platonic. They were now given cottages on each of her estates so that Karim could always attend to Victoria. She became fond of Mrs Karim too. Letters to her were signed ‘dearest mother’ or ‘your loving mother, Victoria R.I.’ She became solicitous and helpful when she learnt that Karim and his wife were trying to have children.Victoria arranged that her doctor should assist and advise Mrs Karim.
Despite all the objections from her family, the court and snide press remarks, Victoria continued to develop a close relationship with her choice of ‘partner’.
She would not let go of her past affiliations either. Apart from reminders of Albert everywhere, and of Brown here and there, in 1889 Victoria commissioned Gustav William Mullins to paint a copy of an 1859 photograph of Elphinstone for her Royal Collection.
In 1891, Bertie was kept in the public eye for all the wrong reasons when he was embroiled in two scandals reflecting the indolence and preoccupation of the upper class. First he was involved in a baccarat scandal when it was revealed he had been in an illegal game. Bertie had to appear in court for a second time when one player unsuccessfully sued another for calling him a cheat. The press made much of a storm in a thimble, which hardly threatened to break down public morality, especially when many of the population played cards for money. A second scandal was more in line with the public image of Bertie. A good friend, Lord Charles Beresford, threatened to reveal details of Bertie’s private life, including some facts about the ‘special’ chair in the French brothel, in a protest against him interfering with Beresford’s affair with Daisy Greville, Countess of Warwick. Both incidents were likely to do only minor damage to the public perception of the future king. But they did not help his cause in being allowed to step up his responsibilities.
Victoria had faced many deaths of people close to her but in her old age she found the demise of her grandson Eddy, who would have followed his father, Bertie, as King of England, hard to take. Outliving her husband, two lovers (Elphinstone and Brown) and many favoured men of state was one thing, but attending the funeral of a grandson was one of her saddest moments. Eddy died of pneumonia in January 1892, aged 28. Alexandra was devastated. Bertie lamented to his mother that he would ‘gladly have gi
ven’ his life for Eddy, ‘as I put no value on mine’.This self-deprecatory comment reflected Bertie’s penance for his scandals in the previous year but it would have raised eyebrows. Eddy had never covered himself in glory, yet the nation spun into a mood of pathos as he was lauded in death in a way that could not have been done in life. Eddy was a more dissolute character than his father; one who did not inspire the nation. It was in mourning, but no-one other than the family cared. An accident of birth had destined him to be king. An accident of nature had saved the nation from him. Eddy had been about to marry the fair, straight-backed and elegant German Princess May, the daughter of the queen’s cousin, the Duchess of Teck. Eddy’s permanent departure spared her a probable life of misery. The royal family adored her so much that they lined her up for his brother George, who was now the next in line for the throne after Bertie. Demonstrating a remarkable matrimonial flexibility, Princess May paid her respects to the dead betrothed she hardly knew, and shifted her devotion to Prince George, whom she had never met before Eddy’s funeral.
In August 1892, a change in government seemed imminent, as 82-year-old William Gladstone, now deaf and visually impaired, took over as prime minister after six years of Lord Salisbury. They had played ‘tag’ with the high office over a 34-year period, with only Disraeli interrupting their occupation between 1868 and 1874. Gladstone was now into his fourth ‘term’. Victoria sniffed at the prospect of dealing with him yet again. As usual everyone dropped out of the running when they realised that Gladstone, despite his disabilities, felt the call of the nation and colleagues to take charge, surely, he hoped, for the last time. Victoria had to make do with a more amenable cabinet. Bertie, of late, had been trying to show he had his finger on the pulse of the nation’s politics. He urged his mother to recommend Lord Rosebery as foreign minister, but Rosebery’s wife had just died and he didn’t want the job. Bertie wrote him a persuasive letter and changed his mind. Confident in his diplomatic skills, Bertie pushed for access to cabinet decisions. Victoria demurred. She noted that Salisbury had not given him the ‘boxes’ containing state papers, so Gladstone shouldn’t either. Bertie was denied once more. He had first asked to see state papers soon after he married in 1863. After the Garibaldi incident in 1864,Victoria had thwarted further efforts by Bertie to meet foreign sovereigns and statesmen in attempts to solve international crises, although she could not prevent him penning the odd diplomatic letter. Gladstone delivered papers to him secretly. Later he was sent summaries of cabinet reports but he was stopped from seeing the detail. Bertie had been allowed to take state visits, starting with the United States when he was eighteen in 1860, and where he had been a big ‘hit’ at a moment when there was considerable anti-British feeling. He went to the subcontinent, primarily India, for eight months in 1875–76. Russia followed, then France, which he loved and subsequently visited almost every year. Victoria did not stop him opening bridges and public buildings.
This latest block over the ‘boxes’ didn’t help his demeanour and only increased his controversial proclivities, especially regarding women and gambling. His mother was 73. She was going deaf. Her eyesight was failing. Her manner towards him made it clear that she would never abdicate but she could not go on much longer. He had been the most patient Prince Regent; waiting 33 years (so far) beyond the age he would have been eligible to become king. He reckoned she had a decade left at the outside, which gave him ample time to prepare for the job while still playing up as he had ever since his first dalliance as a nineteen-year-old. Bertie continued his lustful ways but his lifestyle in his early 50s had his doctors warning that he was a candidate for a stroke or a heart attack. Bertie the gourmand, or glutton—depending on the perspective—had a 1.22 metre waistline, which he maintained by mounting assaults on sometimes twelve courses at a sitting. He was famous for taking five meals a day, which would have out-devoured the King of Tonga, who was no slouch in the devastation of banquets. Then again, many of the aristocracy and his set lived this way because they could. At his age many were already dissipated after decades of a degenerate lifestyle. Bertie, as the pinnacle of British society, believed he had the right to do as he wished, especially as no major responsibilities had devolved to him, either by his mother’s attitudes or his reputation with Church leaders, the guardians of the nation’s morality. Bertie had become more reckless in his maturity but he was no fool. He was not prepared to give up his debauchery, but he did begin to make more of an effort to look like a capable king-in-waiting. He would never be regarded as a statesman, but he cultivated a middle-man, ‘go-between’ image. It was far too late to be seen as a man of letters but, as he showed in his turning of Rosebery’s mind, he could compose a well-written letter for the good of the nation. And when he put his mind to it, he was a fair diplomat. Certainly no public servant could match him in bringing foreign leaders together in peace rather than war. In this respect, he used his power positively.
Bertie also exercised power for personal gain in the private confines of his select circle. He kept it exclusive for the very fact that this made outsiders pay him to get into this future monarch’s elite ‘sphere’. The rich on the fringe of a world that tantalised them found this Prince of Wales was an accommodating gatekeeper.
There were unwritten rules about how to gain entry. Outsiders had to entertain him and his titled and layabout cronies. They had to create avenues for Bertie and Co., including the more impecunious, to make money through insider investments. One of the first let into the top British ‘club’ was Hungarian Jewish banker Baron Maurice de Hirsch. He bought an introduction to Bertie in 1890 from Austria’s Crown Prince Rudolf. In quick time he became Bertie’s new best friend and unofficial adviser. When Hirsch died in 1896, this position was continued by another Jewish banker, Ernest Cassel (who converted to Catholicism). Bertie drew them into the circle with a smile. Other Jewish bankers entered the royal-backed ‘club’, including Edward Sassoon, the Liberal Unionist Party parliamentarian. There were also several of the mighty Rothschilds with already established riches on the Continent and in Britain. This brought objection and comments from the British elite about Bertie’s ‘philo-semitism’, which was a euphemistic way of expressing the more harsh ‘Jew-lover’. But this misjudged him. When a Royal Commission was proposed to impose ‘stringent’ control on Jewish immigration, Bertie was in favour of it. His affections were not towards Jews; they flowed to rich bankers who happened to be Jews. He gained diverse knowledge, inspired views and useful business tips from these more worldly, canny, sophisticated and broadminded figures. In an era when Jews were despised by the upper classes, Bertie ignored the bigotry and consorted with whom he wished. They helped him invest his money so that he had enough for socialising and an extravagant lifestyle. If he ran out of funds, they offered loans, which were often ‘forgotten’. They would help to refinance mortgage loans on his properties when he borrowed against them. Victoria was concerned that Bertie would end up mortgaging the monarchy when and if he were king.
Irish-born diplomat and writer Shane Leslie observed: ‘From the wisdom of businessmen and the wit of beautiful women, he learnt how to deal with men.’
Bertie was alert to the assessments of his more permanent and savvy mistresses, especially when it came to characters in politics, business and diplomacy.
42
PLAYBOY PRINCE
Bertie, 51, in 1893 was forgoing a few of his pleasure pursuits. One was to delay a spring visit to France to chair a London meeting over retirement funds for servants, when he would have preferred to take to a more elaborate chair in Paris. But there were really just minor distractions in his relentless pursuit of pleasure. A usual year included a round of visits to large country houses, with shooting, gambling and attendances at race meetings. This would be followed by weeks in London with parties and banquets. Then there would be his visits to Paris, the French Riviera and Marienbad in Bohemia. In public and private, he was hardly ever seen without a cigar or a cigarette in hand. In private,
it was the same but with the most stunning, sensual women close by.
