Victoria & Abdul

by Shrabani Basu

  The Queen instructed that after lunch they would, on alternate dates, remain in attendance on her. Mohammed Buksh, she said, on ‘his day’, would remain with her till she went out unless he was desirous of going to his room. She had different plans for Abdul Karim, however, who was rapidly becoming her favourite. She insisted that Karim, on his day, would not remain with her beyond one hour, as he would have to join his English teacher for lessons in reading and writing. The Queen wanted Karim to quickly become fluent in English as she felt she had a lot to learn from him. As a result, Karim was to have nearly double the lessons that Buksh had.

  Buksh had to take on the extra work while Karim attended his extra lessons. The Queen wrote: ‘When he [Karim] goes, Mahomed will relieve him in his attendance on her majesty and during the hour while Abdul is on duty, will go to the nursery to wait about where he pleases.’

  The Queen wanted Buksh and Karim to be in attendance for some time before dinner, ‘commencing when her Majesty comes in [after her tea-time carriage ride] and remaining till the time to dress for dinner’.

  Further complicated instructions followed. Depending on what time the Queen returned from her evening ride, Karim and Buksh were to do some additional waiting, replacing the Queen’s maids. If the page was on duty at the foot of the stairs, then they could remain in attendance upstairs. Reid handed the notes to Ponsonby. Between their studies and attendance on the Queen, it was clear that Buksh and Karim had a busy schedule on all days. Karim was busier; in addition to his extra lessons he still had to teach the Queen. Both servants braced the Scottish chill and took enthusiastically to their duties, enjoying a quiet walk in the grounds when they could snatch some time.

  The Balmoral routine involved outdoor pursuits. Deer-stalking was a favourite pastime and the evening ended with a torch-lit dance around the carcasses. The Queen always indulged her Scottish subjects and allowed the gillies to down large amounts of whisky and sing songs. Often they drank to the memory of Prince Albert round the cairn erected for him, the Queen watching with a mixture of sadness and joy. The senior members of her Household, like Ponsonby and Reid, had little enthusiasm for these events, but she enjoyed them. She now had Karim and Buksh for company to watch the dances. It was their introduction to the Highlander’s life at Balmoral.

  The Braemar gathering for the Highland games was an annual event that the Queen always attended, though her Household never cared for it. The games involved the throwing of heavy stones and clubs and a considerable amount of Highland dancing. Karim found some of the games similar to the ones in India. This year, the weather was like a ‘matchless August morning’, recorded Reid. The slight traces of fog which had enveloped the castle all night had vanished before the bright sunshine and the woodlands were richer in russet brown and gold. The gillies’ ball was held on 10 September in the iron Ball Room of the castle, with the servants from the Household in attendance in the Royal Stand. The walls of the Ball Room were decorated with the heads of stags that had fallen to Royal bullets over the years. Karim learned that the prized catch was The Imperial or 14-pointer. Most Highland stags were 12-pointers. The Ball was patronised by the Queen, who was a surprisingly good dancer. She had enjoyed reels with John Brown, her Scottish gillie and close friend, when he was alive. Wearing a tartan shawl over her widow’s black, the Queen would give in to the gaiety and dance with the frequently inebriated John Brown, forgetting her grief in the spirit of the evening.

  Sketch of the Queen with an Indian attendant taken from a magazine. The caption says: ‘watching the bonfires around the hills at Balmoral’.

  To Karim it was all a new world. He had enjoyed hunting in the jungles around Agra and Rajasthan, but stepping out early morning on a Highland hunt, with the mist still curling round the hills, was a different experience. He saw his first stag– a 12-pointer – framed against the purple hills and it filled him with awe.

  ‘It is great joy,’5 he wrote about the hunt. ‘I like this much more than dance or other games.’ Karim specially enjoyed the hunt for stag, or barasingha, as he called it in his native tongue, though he found it rather difficult in the winter. Trout fishing in the streams was also another of his favourite activities, as was hunting for birds, particularly in the months of November and December. Karim was specially attracted to the waterfalls of Garrawalt which produced a sound like ‘thunder’ as they cascaded over a giant rock. The Queen enjoyed having tea at several scenic spots around the castle. One of these was the banks of the Gelder, the waters of which entered the River Dee not far from the castle. Karim found the Highlanders a ‘particularly friendly race of people’.

  The climate in Scotland, often damp and windy, was a contrast to the splendid summer they had enjoyed in London, and unlike anything Karim had ever seen in Agra. Dressed in his Indian-style tweeds he enjoyed walking in the grounds, attending on the Queen and the gamut of lessons he had to go through. While waiting at table, he would always wear his elaborate tunic embossed with the letters VRI (Victoria Regina et Imperatrix). Every evening the Hindustani lessons were held without fail, the Queen beginning to fill the first of the thirteen closely packed Journals that she would eventually complete. As Karim’s English improved, he started having lengthier conversations with his Queen about India and she listened, rapt with attention, marvelling at being Empress of such a land. He told her more about himself and managed to convey to her that he came from a good family, that his father was a doctor in Agra Jail and that he himself had been a clerk in the jail and had never done menial work before. The Queen was impressed and began to rely increasingly on the polite young Indian who was taking his job of man-servant so seriously.

  On 11 September she wrote in a letter:

  My dear Indians are going on admirably. General Dennehy was invaluable and settled everything and found out all they wished and wanted and now everything goes on as smoothly as possible.

  The youngest [Karim] is evidently almost a gentleman who could not be treated like a common servant and is extremely well educated and the other stout one is quite excellent. He was seventeen years with General Dennehy whose whole house he managed.6

  Karim was a fast learner. He was quickly improving his English so as to communicate with the Queen and was soon helping her with her papers. Victoria was delighted with him. While the smiling and portly Buksh remained waiting at tables, Karim now started doing secretarial jobs. On 12 September she wrote to Sir Henry Ponsonby from Balmoral:

  Sir Henry will see what he [Lord Dufferin] says about the Indian servants. It is just what the Queen feels and she cannot say what a comfort she finds hers [her Indian servants]. Abdul is most handy in helping when she signs by drying the signatures. He learns with extraordinary assiduity and Mahomet is wonderfully quick and intelligent and understands everything.7

  The Queen continued to ask Karim about India and their conversations now grew weightier as he moved from descriptions of colour and local customs to deeper political issues. As Karim helped the Queen with her boxes and her mail, he also progressed beyond just blotting her signature. She was curious to know about Indian religions and customs and Karim explained the difference in customs between the Hindus and Muslims. He told her about the conflicts the differences could cause and described the riots that sometimes broke out in Agra when the Muslims took out the religious procession of Muharram to mark the martyrdom of Hussain, the grandson of the Prophet, and it clashed with the Hindu procession of Sankranti (a festival celebrated with ritual bathing in the Ganges river and the flying of kites). The Queen was distressed to hear about the rioting and decided she would pursue the matter with the Viceroy.

  To the Royal Household, the Queen’s attitude to Abdul Karim began to gradually remind them of her relationship with John Brown, her Highland servant. Balmoral was always associated with John Brown. It was here that Brown had started his working life as a stable-boy for Sir Robert Gordon, the owner of Balmoral. When Prince Albert bought the property and rebuilt the castle, John Brown was employed
by the Royal couple as a gillie. He immediately became a favourite of both the Queen and the Prince Consort.

  After Albert’s death, when the Queen was inconsolable, it fell to John Brown to bring her out of seclusion. At forty-two, the Queen had chosen to wear black all her life and had withdrawn into a shell. The Court became disgruntled with her absence at public ceremonies and lack of interest in state affairs, and John Brown was brought in as her personal servant to try to cheer her up.

  Brown was a commonplace, coarse man with a typical Highland sense of humour. He loved his whisky and was often rude to the Prince of Wales and the Household, who disliked the influence he had on the Queen. Brown was known to call her ‘wumman’, dropping all civil etiquette, openly scolding and arguing with her; but he was completely devoted to her and took every care to see she was comfortable and well. He ensured she was cosily wrapped in her tartan rug when she went for her ride and even laced her tea with whisky to keep her warm. Shocked bystanders once heard him tell the Queen, while he was adjusting her bonnet ribbon under her chin: ‘Hoots then, wumman. Can ye no hold yerr head up?’ A handsome bearded man always dressed in a kilt, he accompanied the Queen on her rides and she felt safe with him. He would keep her amused and take no nonsense from her, and the widowed Queen enjoyed his rustic charm.

  Very quickly John Brown became her soulmate and she depended on him. Often isolated in her own home, as her children were awed of her and the Household always maintained a formal distance, she leaned on Brown who treated her as a normal human being. She liked the fact that this strong young man scolded her, looked after her and was always caring for her smallest needs. Rumours about the Queen’s relationship with Brown were a major source of gossip among the staff, especially when she retired to the secluded Widow’s Cottage at Glassalt Shiel for a few nights with Brown. Victoria, however, never let the rumours bother her. If anything, they amused her. She would not hear any ill of Brown and was blind to his faults. So close were the Queen and her Highland servant that she was often referred to as ‘Mrs Brown’ and there were whispers in Court circles that she had secretly married him.

  The presence of a servant whom she could trust sustained the Queen, who was often lonely (as people in power often are). Without Albert by her side, she relied for many years on Brown. The Scottish gillie shared with her many political views, including a dislike for Gladstone. He wanted the government turned out in 1872 and in 1878, when the Queen asked him whether he wanted a war, the gillie replied: ‘Damn it, no – I beg your pardon – but I think it would be awful; dreadful deal of fighting and at the end no one would be better and a’ would be worse for it.’

  However, John Brown died at Windsor in 1883, leaving the Queen devastated once again. After the death of her beloved Albert, this was the most painful to her. She wrote to Ponsonby in a letter after his death:

  The Queen is trying hard to occupy herself but she is utterly crushed and her life has again sustained one of those shocks like in 61 [the year of Albert’s death] when every link has been shaken and torn and at every moment the loss of the strong arm and wise advice, warm heart and cheery original way of saying things and the sympathy in any large and small circumstances – is most cruelly missed.

  The Queen was so distressed after Brown’s death that she became very weak and could not stand or walk. She laid a special memorial stone in his name at the mausoleum in Frogmore and inscribed it with the words:

  In loving and grateful remembrance of John Brown, her faithful and devoted personal attendant and friend of Queen Victoria, whom he constantly accompanied here.

  These words are inscribed by Her whom he served devotedly for

  34 years.

  Matthew 25th Chapter, Verse 21

  ‘His Lord said unto him well done good and faithful servant: thou has been faithful over a few things. I will make thee ruler over many things, enter thou into the joy of the Lord.’

  She also built a special granite fountain in his memory just outside the Tea House in Frogmore, where she enjoyed sitting on summer days, and a bench was put up in his honour in the grounds of Osborne where they had often walked together. In Balmoral she erected a statue of him.

  Even Ponsonby, who had no love lost for Brown and often clashed with him, was forced to admit: ‘He was the only person who could fight and make the Queen do what she did not wish. He did not always succeed nor was his advice always the best. But I believe he was honest, and with all his want of education, in roughness, his prejudices and other faults he was undoubtedly a most excellent servant to her.’ Four years after the death of John Brown, the Empress now had another servant she was beginning to rely on. Surely and steadily, and to the horror of the Royal Household, the young Karim was filling Brown’s shoes.

  Beneath the regal trappings, the Queen was very much a people’s person. She enjoyed nothing more than getting to know her subjects, especially the country folk and the under-privileged. At Balmoral, she regularly went to the village shops and chatted with the locals, often buying knick-knacks. She disapproved of the snobbery of the upper classes and reached out to the ordinary people whenever she could. Her mothering of her Indian servants and protecting them from the prejudices of the Household was natural to her.

  In the quiet setting of the Highlands, the Queen became closer to Karim. He described the hunting in India and the journeys he had made to Kabul and the North-West with his father. He informed her that his father had accompanied General Roberts on the famous march to Kandahar in 1880. The Queen was impressed by his candour and felt relaxed in his company, much to the discomfiture of the Household. They did not approve of the closeness that seemed to be developing between the Queen and the young Indian servant.

  In a sense, they were also reminded of the Queen’s closeness to her previous ward, Duleep Singh. When the Queen was thirty-five years old, she had taken this young Indian Prince into her custody. He had been only eleven when the British defeated the Sikhs in the second Anglo-Sikh War in 1849, and seized the prized Koh-i-Noor as war booty. The young Prince was torn from his mother’s side and exiled to Britain where he arrived in 1854 at the age of fifteen. He had become a Christian. Whether out of guilt or a genuine motherly instinct, the Queen became his guardian. Duleep Singh formally presented her with the Koh-i-Noor. Victoria felt the young Prince looked sad and vulnerable and became a mother figure to him, allowing him to wear his native clothes. Fascinated by Duleep Singh’s good looks, she had him painted in all his princely finery at the age of fifteen by Francis Xavier Winterhalter. Over three decades later, the Queen was taking the young Abdul Karim under her wing. She was soon to have portraits of Karim painted by Von Angeli and Rudolph Swoboda.

  Despite being devoted to the Queen as a young boy, Duleep Singh had grown up and rebelled against her, wanting to be recognised as the sovereign ruler of Punjab and demanding the return of the Koh-i-Noor. While at Balmoral, the Queen received further bad news from Duleep Singh, and she recorded:

  The unfortunate Maharajah Duleep Singh has published a most violent crazy letter, speaking of being ‘the lawful sovereign of the Sikhs’ and ‘England’s implacable foe’. I heard this evening that his poor abandoned wife, the Maharanee Bamba, had died quite suddenly yesterday. I feel terrible for the poor children who are quite fatherless and motherless.8

  To Karim, the actions of Duleep Singh were deplorable and he sympathised with the Queen in her moment of sorrow. To the Household, Duleep Singh’s conduct was another reason for the Queen not to be indulgent with Abdul Karim and grant him special favours.

  Karim was not aware of the Household’s early wariness of him. He remained close to the Queen and asked her many questions of his own. She told him about her family, her grandchildren and the relations in Europe. The Queen reminisced about Albert and the happy times they had spent in Balmoral. Karim saw the statues of John Brown that the Queen had erected in Balmoral and learnt about the Highland servant who had been so close to her. He told her about his extended family, his f
ather, wife, brother and sisters. In the slight chill of the September days, Karim and the Queen got to know each other better. In less than two months he had mastered reading Queen Victoria’s handwriting, which at most times defeated even the patient Ponsonby. The Queen started writing to him directly instead of giving instructions through her Household.

  In a letter to Reid she said: ‘You might I think see Abdul alone to give him this letter which I think he will be able to read. Good kind Mahomet I will read those few words to myself.’ Clearly Buksh had not benefited from his lessons as much as Karim.

  The Queen, always interested in Indian affairs, now pressed her Viceroy for more news. She also wondered if she could have some Indian troops around her permanently and wrote to Lord Cross, the Secretary of State for India, who in turn asked the Viceroy: ‘Would it not clash with the Mutiny Act?’9 She began discussing India with her ministers and the Indian Princes who called on her. One of her frequent visitors was the Maharajah of Cooch Behar, who visited her again in Balmoral, brightening up the bleak castle with his sparkling jewellery and embroidered tunics. The Queen found the Maharajah ‘very amiable’,10 as he described to her the thrill of a tiger hunt. The Thakore of Morvi, who had presented the Queen with his special horse at Windsor, left from London in mid-November after having fulfilled his desire to see a London fog. ‘He had one yesterday, to his heart’s content. It was horrible,’11 a cynical Cross informed the Viceroy. Most of the Indian Royalty had left before the onset of winter and they had all expressed their satisfaction at the Jubilee celebrations, much to the relief of the British administration.