Victoria & Abdul

by Shrabani Basu

  The Queen was determined to get Tyler promoted. She had been pleased with the man who had helped arrange the Colonial Exhibition and sent her Abdul Karim. She did not hesitate to express her dissatisfaction with the previous Viceroy and to indulge in some gossip with Lansdowne.

  The Queen must say she thinks it was wrong of Lord Dufferin not to fulfil his promise towards her, but she feels that the person who influenced Lord Dufferin most against him (and she says so in strictest confidence) is Lady Dufferin, as she does not favour the Female Medical Schools, or at least the manner in which they are organised, and is very bitter against Sir John Tyler. The Viceroy should hear what his (Sir John Tyler’s) reasons are for himself.14

  The Queen had heard nothing about a pension for Wuzeeruddin and she now sent another urgent telegram to the Viceroy who was on tour in Umballa: ‘Wrote about Dr Tyler and Wuzeeruddin on 22nd. Latter wishes pension after more than 30 year’s service.’15

  In May she wrote again to the Viceroy. She had clearly had an update from Karim about what had transpired between his father and Colvin at the railway station. She now explained to the Viceroy that Wuzeeruddin had no time to speak to Colvin except a few minutes at the station and he would not have asked for anything, as he has a much easier place than before, ‘but he is getting old, and wd. gladly retire on a pension, to which he is fully entitled for his long and good services, and the Queen wd be glad if he cd. have a little more than the actual ordinary pension on account of his son’s confidential position about the Empress and his (Abdul Karim’s) very exemplary conduct’.16

  The Queen was eager to help Karim in what she thought was a very reasonable request for his father’s pension. She realised how much she had missed him over the four months that he was away and how happy she was to have him back at her side. Having returned from the Continent, Karim seemed to be picking up some French as well. She wrote to Ponsonby:

  As for Abdul Karim, the Queen can never praise him enough. He is zealous, attentive and quiet and gentle, has such intelligence and good sense, and (as all the Indians are) entirely intent on his duty and always ready to obey the slightest word or hint given. He will soon be able to copy a good deal for the Queen – even in French – and is an excellent accountant. He is a thorough gentleman in feelings and manners.

  The Indian servants were not too pleased at this lavish praise for Karim. One of them, Ahmed Husain, began to show signs of depression and the Queen sent Reid to find out the reason. Reid informed her that Husain had told him he was upset because of Karim’s high-handed and dictatorial behaviour. Never one to tolerate any criticism of Karim, the Queen accused Reid of listening to complaints from other servants and wrote another of her lengthy letters to the doctor clarifying Karim’s stature in the Household.

  The Queen wishes to repeat in strong terms her desire that Dr Reid should never allow Ahmed Husain to complain and speak against the Munshi Hafiz Abdul Karim who is the first, and from the position his family have always held, and his superior education holds a position now, and this he was from the first entitled to, which is equal to that of Clerk in her Privy Purse and with this addition that Karim is Personal Indian Clerk to the Queen.

  Karim, she said, looked after the accounts of all the Indians, ordered them clothes, and was ‘the person’ who besides these duties also took care of the Queen’s boxes, letters and papers. The Queen also made clear her wish that the others should look to him for advice and help in every way.

  Abdul has shown them every reason of pride in his promotion and has always wished to do what the others like and has objected to nothing. But he disapproves with right of any extravagance and likes the Queen’s written orders to be strictly adhered to. He knows Ahmed Hussain thoroughly and his wish to be the 1st or at least equal in every thing, which will not do. The Queen is greatly shocked at Ahmed’s conduct behind Abdul’s back and Dr Reid must on no account listen to or encourage his complaints which are extremely wrong. This is very wrong that he should behave as he does as she likes him personally.17

  With the Queen backing him at every stage, the Munshi was growing in self-importance. An incident at Sandringham House made the Royal Household realise just how demanding Abdul Karim was becoming. On 26 April 1889 the entire Royal entourage, including the Queen and the Prince and Princess of Wales, arrived at Sandringham for a gala performance. The Ball Room had been converted into a theatre for the staging of The Bells by Émile Erckmann and Alexandre Chatrian. It was a melodrama translated from the original French Le Juif Polonais (The Polish Jew). Starring the magic pair, Henry Irving and Ellen Terry, along with a cast of sixty and a live orchestra, the play had already had a successful run at the Lyceum Theatre in London. The Queen arrived at 10 p.m. to find there were nearly 300 people in the room including neighbours, tenants and servants. She sat in the front row between Bertie and Alix. The stage had been arranged on a lavish scale with many scene changes. The Queen described the piece as ‘very thrilling’ and thoroughly enjoyed the performance, thinking Henry Irving had acted ‘wonderfully’. Ellen Terry played Portia at the end of the evening, winning a huge round of applause for her ‘quality of mercy’ speech.

  But there was one member of the audience who was not pleased. It was the Munshi. He found that he had been seated with the servants. Taking it as a deep personal insult, the Munshi stalked out and spent the rest of the evening sulking in his room. The next morning he told the Queen about it. Immediately she came to his defence and declared that Abdul Karim should always be seated with the Royal Household. The Munshi had climbed his first step on the social ladder.

  The following year, at the Braemar Games, the Munshi was seen fraternising with the gentry. When an amazed Duke of Connaught saw the Munshi’s turban bobbing among the top hats in the pavilion, he sent for Henry Ponsonby and asked him how the Munshi had come to be seated with the gentlemen. An equally exasperated Ponsonby replied that Abdul stood where he was ‘by the Queen’s order’ and that if it was wrong, as he did not ‘understand Indian etiquette and HRH did, would it not be better for him to mention it to the Queen’. Ponsonby wrote to his wife that ‘This entirely shut him [the Duke of Connaught] up’.

  That summer, another episode at Balmoral connected with the Munshi convinced the Household that they risked saying anything adverse to the Queen about him at their own peril. She would not tolerate any negative remarks about her favourite Munshi.

  One afternoon in June, the Queen had driven to the Summer Cottage wearing a brooch that had been presented to her by the Grand Duke of Hesse. As she was getting into her carriage on her way back, she missed the brooch. It had been pinned to her shawl by her dresser, Mrs Tuck, when she was leaving for the Cottage. The Queen thought Mrs Tuck had forgotten to pin the brooch and was very angry with her, but the dresser assured her that she had done so. A search was made at the Cottage and all the gravel outside turned over, but the brooch was not found.

  Rankin, the footman on duty that day, privately thought the brooch had been stolen by Hourmet Ali, one of the Queen’s servants, who was Abdul Karim’s brother-in-law, as he had seen the former hanging around the Cottage after serving the Queen’s tea. Since nobody could suggest this to the Queen, the brooch was given up as lost and the dresser was frequently scolded about it.

  A month after the incident, on the way back from the Earl of Fife’s wedding at Osborne, another Indian servant, Mahomet, told the dressers Mrs Tuck and Mrs MacDonald, on board the Alberta, that Hourmet Ali had sold the brooch to Wagland, the jeweller in Windsor for 6s. He said he did not know where Hourmet had got the brooch, but he did not think it belonged to him.

  The next day, Mrs Tuck wrote to Wagland asking for the brooch that he had bought from an Indian servant to be sent back. The brooch was immediately returned by Wagland with a note confirming that it had indeed been sold to them by an Indian servant who had claimed it as his own property. In fact, Wagland informed them that the Indian had come to the shop several times and he had finally bought it off him to
‘save himself further annoyance’.18

  Mrs Tuck took the brooch and the note to the Queen who was first surprised and then annoyed with both Mrs Tuck and Wagland for insinuating that Hourmet Ali had stolen the brooch. ‘That is what you English call justice,’ she shouted at Mrs Tuck, who informed Reid that the Queen ‘was dreadfully angry’.

  The Queen discussed the matter with Abdul Karim and then told Mrs Tuck that she was not to mention ‘a word of it’ to Rankin, Miss Dittweiler, the housekeeper at Balmoral, or a single soul; Hourmet was a model of honesty and uprightness and would ‘never dream of stealing anything’. Abdul had said Hourmet Ali had picked it up and that it was an Indian custom ‘to keep anything one found and say nothing about it’ and that he was only acting up to the customs of his country, the Queen told Mrs Tuck.

  Abdul had apparently said that Hourmet had picked up the brooch at the policeman’s box, but Reid noted that on the day it was lost, the Queen had not been in that direction at all.

  ‘So the theft, though proved absolutely, was ignored and even made a virtue of for the sake no doubt of Abdul about whom the Queen seems off her head,’ wrote Reid in his diary.19 The incident of the brooch and the Queen’s blind love for Abdul Karim had upset the Household.

  A slightly miffed Reid wrote to Jenner in July 1889 from Osborne:

  I am in my new room, which is very nice and comfortable. I hear the Queen has given Abdul not only my old room but also the large central sitting room off it, which she declined to give me last year, and then only under conditions and restrictions. I am not grumbling at all, but merely mention the fact to show you the relative estimation in which Abdul and I are held!!20

  The Munshi was increasingly drawing the Queen into Indian politics. As he provided her with information about the insecurities of the Muslim minorities, the Queen wrote lengthy letters to the Viceroy about the issues that Karim raised. She felt her discussions with Karim helped her get a feel of the pulse of Indian affairs, as she was getting the native’s view of the British administration and its effects. The Viceroy was surprised to receive a letter from the Queen regarding the British proposal to set up Provincial Councils, expressing her doubt as to whether India was ripe for such an enormous change. Her reason for hesitation on the election of Provincial Councils was on account of Karim’s view that Muslims may not be well represented on these Councils as they were a minority in India.

  The burning issue of riots during the Muslim procession of Muharram continued to be a constant in her letters. As Karim updated her about the riots, the Queen scratched off another of her innumerable letters to the Viceroy informing him that she had been concerned of late about the ‘bitterness and heartburning’ between the ‘Mahomedans and the Hindoos’ over the issue of Muharram. The bitterness had led to fighting between the two parties and clashes had occurred even at Agra, where till now this had never happened. She requested the Viceroy to take ‘some extra measure to prevent this painful quarrelling’ so that the Muslims could carry out their ceremonies ‘quietly and without molestation’.21

  Clearly influenced by Karim, the Queen wrote:

  It [Muharram] only comes once a year, whereas the Mahomedans complain that the Hindoos, who have many religious festivals, try to have one of their own at this very time, hence the quarrelling. Could not the Viceroy arrange that the Hindoos held no feast during the 13 days of Muharram? This wd. avoid all fighting and enable the Mahomedans to carry on with their religious festival in peace. If this is impossible, perhaps the Viceroy wd give strict orders and prevent the Mahomedans and the Hindus from interfering with one another, so that perfect justice is shown to both. But the former course would be far the best.22

  Lord Lansdowne was clearly getting a little annoyed by the volley of letters from the Queen. Her suggestion of banning the Hindu processions did not go down well with him at all. He replied to her that he was aware of the hostilities during Muharram and the outbreak at Agra in 1888 to which she specifically referred. Changing the dates for Hindu festivals, he said firmly, was not a viable option.

  It is, the Viceroy fears, impossible to arrange that the Hindus should hold no feasts at all during the period of the Moharram. The dates of many of the Hindu festivals are fixed with reference to the progress of the lunar month to these; dissatisfaction would be occasioned if such festivals, which can only, according to the tenets of the Hindus, be properly celebrated upon these special dates, were to be postponed by the order of the government.23

  On the troublesome business of Tyler’s promotion, he informed the Queen that she must realise that higher appointments in India were governed by ‘well-established rules of procedure’ and that the manner in which they are filled up was ‘closely supervised’.

  Barely a few months in office, Lansdowne was already beginning to understand how persistent the Queen could be and, to his relief, Muharram passed off peacefully and without incident that year. In September he was able to appoint John Tyler to officiate as Acting Inspector General of Prisons in the absence of Colonel Sir Stanley Clarke. The Viceroy confided that since Colonel Clarke was not likely to return to take up his position, the job would go to Tyler.

  On 20 September the Queen replied briefly to him from Balmoral: ‘Very glad at Tyler’s appointment.’

  The Tyler episode over, the Queen returned with satisfaction to her routine duties, enjoying the Highland break at Balmoral with Abdul. The Household watched in shock and horror as she breezily left with Karim for Glassalt Shiel, a remote place three hours ride from Balmoral accessed only by a narrow road running along the lake. The house was the only one for miles around, nestling in the shadow of the towering Lochnagar Hills and surrounded by dense forest. Known as the Widow’s Cottage, it was the first house built by Victoria after the death of Albert. She had celebrated the housewarming with John Brown in 1868, dancing some animated reels and drinking a toast with ‘whisky-toddy’ on the occasion. It was to this isolated getaway – tucked away among the pine trees on the banks of Loch Muick – that she used to retire with John Brown, fuelling Court gossip. After Brown’s death she had sworn she would not return there.

  As she took Karim to Glassalt Shiel, Reid wrote to Jenner: ‘The Queen is off today to Glassalt Shiel to stay there till tomorrow. She has not done this since 1882, having given it up when Brown died, and said she would never sleep there again. However, she has changed her mind and has taken Abdul with her.’24 There were no doubts in the Household anymore. Abdul Karim had replaced John Brown, and no one was pleased.

  6

  A GRANT OF LAND

  The Munshi was ill. He was suffering from a painful carbuncle on his neck and the Queen was beside herself with worry. Reid was summoned to examine him, but Victoria continued to fret. She visited Abdul several times in his room, stroked his hand and comforted him. Reid was ordered to give him all his attention. She wrote to Reid:

  The Queen is much troubled about her excellent Abdul, who is so invaluable to her, and who has hitherto been so strong and well. She trusts Dr Reid is not anxious about him? He has always been so strong and well that she feels troubled at the swelling. She is always very anxious about them all, lest the climate should not agree as they are so useful to me and I was happy to think that they are well and did not suffer. Abdul is excellent, so superior in every sense of the word that she feels particularly troubled about anything being the matter with him.

  Reid attended on Karim, poulticed him regularly and gave him opiates. But the Munshi was taking longer to recover than normal and the Queen grew more anxious by the day. By the beginning of March, when he remained confined to bed, she started visiting him twice a day and even carrying her boxes to him so they could work together as he convalesced.

  Reid noted in his diary on 1 March 1890: ‘Queen visiting Abdul twice daily, in his room taking Hindustani lessons, signing’1 her boxes, examining his neck, smoothing his pillows, etc.

  The twinge of jealousy and sarcasm in Reid’s voice is evident. The Queen fussed a
bout all her servants and staff if they fell ill, but the personal care being taken of Karim had raised many eyebrows. Once again visions of John Brown and the Queen haunted the Royal family and Household. The gossip below stairs was that the Queen’s behaviour was out of line and the excess attention being given to a servant was not dignified for the monarch. But the Queen never cared about gossip. To her, Abdul was a dear friend, a close confidant and moral support. He was alone in this country and must not feel neglected. She may be the Empress of India and he a mere subject, but he was ill and she would tend to him.

  Another letter was despatched to Reid as the Queen wondered if a second opinion on Karim was needed. When Reid decided that the best procedure would be to perform a minor operation, the Queen delicately suggested that perhaps he should take Sir J. Fayrer’s opinion as to the cutting of Abdul’s neck, ‘on account of the difference of Indian constitutions’. Lest the good doctor feel that she did not have faith in him, she hastily added: ‘I don’t wish it, I only ask what you wd. like yourself. Of course, he could be telegraphed for, but if you are not alarmed or anxious of course it is unnecessary. I am a little over-anxious for I feel a sort of responsibility about the dear good young man, and about them all indeed, away from all their own.’

  On 8 March Dr Ellison came from Windsor and helped Reid with the operation, following which Karim made a quick recovery and all was well at Osborne House again. As the tulips and daffodils carpeted the grounds in spring, it was time for the European sojourn. The Queen and her entourage, including a fully recovered Karim and the other Indians, left for Aix-les-Bains in France.