Victoria & Abdul

by Shrabani Basu

  Menu at Osborne showing chicken curry.

  In an earlier letter he had written:

  the Queen is constantly harping upon the manner in which she believes our residents to act in their respective posts, keeping the natives at a distance, showing no sympathy etc etc. I do not know on what she grounds such statements, unless it be from something which her Indian attendants may have said. Of course she does not know that I am writing this. She asks, by the way, if I knew what had become of the wives and children of the Senapati.12

  The Queen was clearly concerned that the character of the Resident placed in Manipur should be scrutinised with care and a ‘very judicious, firm, but a very conciliatory man’ be put there.

  Cross conveyed her concern to Lansdowne saying: ‘I know she feels, rightly or wrongly, that the bearing of our Residents to the Native Princes is not what they should be, and that they are often rude and over bearing, their notion being that of governing India by fear and by crushing, instead of by firmness, joined with conciliation.’13 It was clear that the Queen considered the latter two qualities as essential requirements of running a vast country like India.

  While the Queen seemed to be listening to her Munshi on Indian affairs, his growing position in the Court continued to annoy the Household. To them, the privileges granted to him seemed endless and his demands ever growing. When the Munshi submitted a long list to Reid of medicines that he wanted to send to his father, Reid decided to put his foot down. He wrote angrily to Jenner:

  The Munshi came to me a day or two ago with a long list of drugs which his father has written to ask for; and he said the Queen wished me to get them for him. The list is too long to trouble you with: but it contains about 60 articles, and the quantities he asks for are enormous. For example he asks for 6lbs of Chloral Hydrate,6oz Morphine, 12oz pf Nitrate of Silver, 3lbs of Chlorodyne, 6lbs of Laudanum, 2lbs Tincture. Of Belladonna, 2oz of pure Strychnine, 6lbs Paregoric, 6lbs tincture Iodo, 8oz Croton Oil, and so on. There are many other poisons besides those I have named, which he asks for in like quantities, and other drugs in correspondingly larger amounts. On thinking it over, I came to the conclusion that I could not take the dangerous responsibility of ordering in my name poisons (which I have calculated are amply sufficient to kill 12,000 or 15,000 full grown men or an enormously larger number of children) for a man I don’t know, and whom I know not to be legally qualified in our sense of the word.

  H.M. has agreed to my suggestions that I should write to Sir J Tyler in India to get for the ‘Doctor’ what is required from some English chemist there, and send the bill here. The Queen says the Munshi must not in any way be annoyed or put about on the subject: so Dennehy is coming on Saturday to explain matters to him in a conciliatory way!!!14

  Dr Reid had to attend to the Munshi who suffered from influenza in the New Year, the Queen ever anxious about him. Here covered in time, however, to participate actively in the tableaux vivant that were staged at Osborne. The Munshi had the starring role in An Indian Bazaar which he helped direct as well, much to the Queen’s appreciation. The tableaux were staged for the first time in the new Durbar Room, watched by the Queen and Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein. The Munshi was becoming quite familiar now with the Queen’s extended European family, thanks to her annual visits to the Continent, and they with him.

  While the Queen would not even think of moving around without her turbaned coterie, the Household clearly did not like the idea and made their dislike known to the Royal reporters in the newspapers, who were constantly looking for Court gossip. When it was learnt that the Queen’s suite for the trip to the Continent in the spring of 1892 consisted of a retinue of forty-five servants, the papers were quick to report the unpopularity of the Indian servants. A report dated 3 March 1892 said:

  The officials who are responsible for all the arrangements would be delighted to dispense with the company of the Indian domestics, who are absolutely useless, and they give an enormous amount of trouble, and are execrated by everybody. These Oriental menials are as tiresome and exacting as the Irish servants who are so amusingly described by Lever in his capital story, ‘The Dodd Family Abroad’.

  The underlying racism in the article could hardly be ignored and the source of the stories is quite clear. The Queen chose to ignore the reports, as she usually did, and insisted on travelling with her beloved Indians.

  After their return from the Continent, Reid had the opportunity to meet Sir John Tyler who was visiting Windsor. The doctor was determined to find out the truth about Dr Wuzeeruddin and quizzed Tyler about him. Tyler told Reid that the Munshi’s father held no medical diploma and was not ‘qualified’ as understood in England and could not be put on the medical register.15 Wuzeeruddin had, however, received instructions at the Agra Medical School, for which he held a certificate, and was ‘qualified’ in that sense for the post he had held for a long time – that of a hospital assistant – of which there were a great many in India. Tyler informed Reid that they were called the ‘native doctors’, though of course strictly speaking they were not entitled to the proper term ‘doctor’, not being M.D., or indeed holding any diploma that could give them such a claim.

  ‘In the last circular he ought strictly to have been called Hospital assistant or native doctor, but of course to add the word native would have “taken the cream off it”, and he would not have liked it so well, or the Munshi either,’ noted Reid, who kept detailed notes of the conversation with Tyler in his diary.

  Tyler told Reid that Wuzeeruddin was now made a great deal of on account of the ‘high position to which HM has raised his son’, and because the Munshi ‘has the Queen’s ear’. Tyler said that if it hadn’t been for this fact, Wuzeeruddin was not a man with whom he would have any social intercourse. He confirmed, however, that Wuzeeruddin could prescribe and perform small operations and had managed a dispensary. He had accompanied General Roberts in his march to Kandahar in the capacity of hospital assistant and was anxious to have his position raised, ‘now that his son is such a great man, and made so much of by the Queen’, Tyler told Reid. All the while, the Queen remained oblivious of the fact that her Household were carrying out discreet enquiries about Dr Wuzeeruddin in order to embarrass Karim and expose him as a liar.

  She fussed over her Munshi and was always keen to show him off to her European relations. In the summer of 1892, when her granddaughter, sixteen-year-old Princess Marie (Prince Alfred’s eldest daughter), arrived in Windsor with her fiancé, Crown Prince Ferdinand of Romania, the Queen insisted they meet her Indian secretary.

  Marie, already anxious that ‘Grandmama Queen’ might disapprove of the match, waited nervously for her in the Great Corridor at Windsor. The Queen entered on the arm of her turbaned Indian attendant, smiled at the shy young couple and spoke to Prince Ferdinand in perfect German, asking him about his father. The next day, the awestruck couple were told that ‘the Munshi would like to make Ferdinand’s acquaintance’. It was arranged that they would come to the Queen’s private sitting room to meet him.

  As Ferdinand entered he saw the Queen sitting at her writing table. On an easel beside her was an oil portrait of Ferdinand’s mother, a beautiful Portuguese Infanta. ‘Wunderschon,’ said the Queen. ‘Wunderschon,’ replied the tongue-tied Ferdinand.

  The young Princess recalled how the silence was broken by the click of the door handle and the tall figure of the Munshi who stood in the doorway. He was dressed in gold with a white turban. Without moving from the doorway, he raised ‘one honey-coloured hand to his heart, his lips and his forehead. He neither moved into the room nor spoke.’

  The young couple could only stare at this vision in silk and gold. No one spoke for several minutes. The Queen – evidently pleased with the effect the Munshi had had – continued to smile. The Munshi remained standing at the door, manifesting, as young Marie said, ‘no emotion at all, simply waiting in Eastern dignity for those things that were to come to pass’. Ferdinand remained frozen and stared at the Mu
nshi. Finally, Marie decided to take the initiative and walked over to Karim and shook his hand. Her fiancé followed her. The Queen, satisfied with the encounter, and pleased to have indulged her Munshi with a glimpse of the Royal bridegroom, finally allowed the couple, ‘who were only too pleased to escape’, to leave the room.16

  In June that year, the Munshi’s father came to visit him. A month ahead, the Queen had requested Alex Profeit to ensure that the rooms in the stables in Balmoral were comfortably furnished for him and the central heating checked. Profeit confirmed that these would all be looked into.17 Dr Wuzeeruddin had expressed an interest in seeing the hospitals in Edinburgh and the Queen arranged for Karim to accompany him there, even organising their stay at the Balmoral Hotel in Edinburgh. They visited Holyrood Palace, the university and several city hospitals. The generosity towards the Munshi’s father met with the usual murmur of discontent from the Household. Arthur Bigge wrote from Balmoral to Reid, who was on holiday in Ellon:

  The A.B and Sohn went off this morning to Edinboro’ and are going to visit the Infirmary, University and Jail, to the authorities of which, Dennehy has written saying exactly who and what the Oriental visitors are. They are to be put up at the Balmoral Hotel coute que coute. I am in hopes that they may find a happy and lasting retreat in the Jail!18

  Despite the best attempts of the Household, the Munshi continued to flourish. In London, Karim took his father to visit the Great Arsenal in Woolwich, the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, London Zoo and a few London hospitals. Dr Wuzeeruddin met Lord Cross, the Secretary of State for India, and was presented before all members of the Royal family who were with the Queen during his visit. The Munshi’s father became the first person to smoke a hookah in Windsor Castle, in a room usually reserved for the Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury. The Queen even urged her grandson, George, Duke of York, to sign two of his photographs and give them personally to her ‘good Munshi for himself and his father (whom it will be sent to)’.19

  In Osborne that Christmas season, the Munshi took the starring role in the tableau King of Egypt. Dressed in an elaborate Bedouin costume and crowned with the headgear of the pharaohs and sitting on a lion throne, the young Karim – now rapidly becoming portly – looked delighted as the King of Egypt, with the other Indian servants playing envoys from other African countries, paying homage to him. The Queen sat separated from the stage only by a strip of fern and palm and showed her appreciation of the theatricals.

  The Queen’s closeness to Karim meant that she remained constantly concerned for Muslims in India and never failed to convey this to the Viceroy or the Secretary of State. Having discussed at length with Karim the passing of the Indian Council Bill, which gave representation to Indians in the native assemblies, she was convinced that Muslims would not be adequately represented and urged the Viceroy to consult various bodies on this. ‘The Mahomedans are undoubtedly by far the most loyal of the Indian people, and wd. be a great support in Council,’ she said.20

  The Viceroy replied that it would be necessary to fill a certain number of appointments to the Councils by direct nomination in order to safeguard the rights of minorities. ‘This,’ he said, ‘would afford the means of securing proper representation for Mahomedan interests.’

  The Queen’s passion for Indian colours and ceremonials remained unquenched. For the inauguration of the Imperial Institute, she now wished for a guard of honour from the Indian Native Army and requested the Viceroy to send her a small contingent from India. The latest demand provided another headache for Lansdowne as bringing native soldiers to England on duty was illegal. The costs would also be quite high. The problem was overcome for the sake of the elderly Queen by sanctioning the travel expenses of eight officers, under the condition that their expenditure did not exceed £2,500, they stayed no longer than three weeks and it was clearly understood that they were there ‘on furlough and not by orders on military duty’.21

  The Munshi was due to go on leave in May, but the Queen wanted him to accompany her first to Florence where she was going for her European spring break. The Times reported on 24 March from Florence: ‘The Queen’s Indian attendants who followed Her Majesty’s carriage excited great interest as they drove along.’22 The Birmingham Daily Post had an intriguing article titled ‘The Florentine’s Impression of the Queen’. It remarked that the Florentines were apparently not ‘particularly impressed’ by the style of the Queen’s cortege, but that her Indian secretary had intrigued them as he had sat in his carriage in ‘solitary state, arrayed in a splendid Oriental costume, and blazing with gold lace’. The paper went on to report that on the box of his carriage sat one of the Indian domestics, who was attired in a sumptious dress. The correspondent wrote:

  The Munshi (Hafiz Abdul Karim) has fairly puzzled the Florentines of all classes, and also the Italian court … for it is reported that after King Humbert’s visit to the Queen at the Villa Palmieri, his Majesty requested Lord Vivian to inform him who the Munshi is, and what is his exact position in the household, as the King did not understand why this magnificient and imposing Hindoo should have been formally presented to him. The popular idea in Italy is that the Munshi is a captive Indian prince, who is taken about by the Queen as an outward and visible sign of Her Majesty’s supremacy in the East.

  The reports only amused the Queen as she spent her mornings with Karim taking her lessons. She had nearly finished her fifth Hindustani Journal. ‘This is my last lesson,’ wrote the Queen, ‘as the Munshi goes on leave to his own country tomorrow morning.’23 She always missed him terribly when he was away.

  Six months later, the Queen was beside herself with excitement. The Munshi was bringing back his wife and mother-in-law. The Queen told Ponsonby to spare no expense to ensure that they had a comfortable journey and ordered a cottage in Frogmore to be prepared for them. Ponsonby sanctioned £300 to the Munshi for his wife’s expenses. He entered the extra funds under the head of ‘extra ordinaries’ in the accounts. The Queen went to visit them at the earliest opportunity. She wrote in her Journal:

  Abdul has just returned from six month’s leave and brought his wife back with him from India. She and her mother are staying at the Frogmore Cottage, which I had arranged for them, and I went down with Ina McNeill [extra woman of the bedchamber] to see them. The Munshi’s wife wore a beautiful sari of crimson gauze. She is nice looking, but would not raise her eyes, she was so shy.24

  The Court circular of The Times newspaper covered the formal presentation of the Munshi’s wife and mother-in-law to the Queen. The reporter wrongly wrote that one of the ladies was his daughter.

  The wife and mother-in-law of Munshi Abdul Karim had the honour of being presented to the Queen yesterday.

  The Queen’s Indian secretary, the Munshi Abdul Karim, who has been visiting his native land returned to England on Saturday in order to resume his duties upon the arrival of the court from Scotland. The Munshi was accompanied by his wife and daughter [sic], both of whom were closely veiled, the lady being shrouded in a cloak of yellow stuff and the girl in a darker garment, the Oriental coverings completely concealing the features and figures of the wearers. During this journey every attention by command of her Majesty was shown to the Munshi and his family, who travelled from London in a south western saloon, with drawn curtains, and on reaching Windsor in the evening were conveyed in a Royal carriage to Frogmore Cottage, where apartments have been provided for them.25

  The Queen wrote to her eldest daughter Vicky in great excitement:

  I don’t think I told you of the two Indian ladies who are here now, and who are, I believe, the first Mohammedan purdah ladies who ever came over … and keep their custom of complete seclusion and of being entirely covered when they go out, except for the holes for their eyes. They are the wife of my Munshi … and her Mother. The former is pretty with beautiful eyes … she was beautifully dressed with green and red and blue gauzes spangled with gold, very gracefully draped over head and body …26

  The Queen had resume
d her Hindustani lessons the very day after Karim returned, quickly making up for the time lost over the past four months. She wrote in her Journal that she had begun the sixth book and hoped it would be finished nicely.27

  ‘Aj yeh chhati kitaab shuruat hain. Umid hai ki yeh bhi bakhubiat tamam hogi,’28 she wrote. She also noted that this would be a little larger than the last book. The Hindustani Journals from now on were thicker, replacing the old smaller diaries which she had used for the last few years. Clearly the Queen had made substantial progress and had now graduated to writing full sentences. As always, Karim wrote the lines first in Urdu, followed by Urdu in roman script so the Queen could read out the lines, then finally the English translation. The language that had evolved largely during the rule of the Mughal Emperors in India, who had combined elements of Persian and Arabic with the Prakrit dialect of the locals, appealed to the Queen. Urdu was a rich language, suited to the Mughal courts. Well over seventy now, the Queen’s enthusiasm for learning a new script was remarkable. She faithfully copied out Karim’s Urdu writing and then read out the words to him. Karim patiently helped her along, encouraging her at every step. He enjoyed these lessons as much as she did, as it gave him both the chance to relax and a sense of fulfilment. Sometimes, in the English translation, Karim would make a grammatical mistake. The Queen would discreetly correct the English when she wrote it again, teacher and pupil now both learning from each other.