Last King in India: Wajid Ali Shah

by Rosie Llewellyn-Jones

  James Outram travelled to Calcutta early in the new year to say farewell to the outgoing governor general and to receive his instructions on how to proceed with the annexation. Dalhousie told him that extra troops would be assembled at Cawnpore by the end of January, which would be ‘sufficient to meet every contingency which could arise at present’. The troops were commanded by three British officers, but Outram, an experienced soldier, had overall control to deploy them as necessary. Conveying the actual news of the British takeover of Awadh to its king was obviously going to be difficult. Outram was advised to tell ‘Ali Naqi Khan first, so that the minister could inform the king, ‘in order that the King may not be taken by surprise, and that the unwelcome communication he is to receive may not appear to be made to him in a manner unnecessarily abrupt’. As a sweetener, or a threat for ‘Ali Naqi Khan, Dalhousie added that ‘the degree of favor and consideration with which the Minister will be regarded by the British Government will depend on his giving his hearty aid to the conclusion of a new Treaty’ and providing all the information he could to facilitate the new administration.68

  The treaty, carried by Outram back to Lucknow, was to confirm that the king was signing away his rights to the revenues of Awadh and that he agreed ‘the sole and exclusive administration of the Civil and Military Government of the territories of Oude shall be henceforth vested for ever, in the Honorable East India Company’. If the king refused to sign it, then Outram was to take over the government of Awadh anyway.69 The Resident was told that he could offer the king a life pension of 15 lakhs per annum (£150,000), and if Wajid ‘Ali Shah thought this was not enough, then the offer could be increased to 18 lakhs a year, ‘rather than lose the Treaty which the Government desire to obtain’. How much would it cost to buy a king and his kingdom? ‘Ali Naqi Khan and others had already been alerted by newspaper reports that something terrible was about to happen, but when he met Outram on his return at the end of January, the Resident lied and said that the extra British troops at Cawnpore had probably been brought up to quell a disturbance on the Nepalese border.

  Wajid ‘Ali Shah’s response to the minister’s announcement of annexation was disbelief. He wrote to the Resident early on the morning of 1 February saying he was astonished and distressed, particularly as he had done everything possible to comply with whatever instructions had been received from the governor general. Outram’s immediate response was that the decision was final and irreversible, as he told Janab-i ‘Aliyyah later the same day. The final meeting between Outram and the king took place three days later on the morning of 4 February. As he entered the palace, accompanied by two British officers, the Resident noted that the palace guards were disarmed and that none of the courtiers or officials were carrying their usual weapons, an indication that the king still hoped to resolve the situation by peaceful negotiations and not a show of force.

  Inside the palace, Wajid ‘Ali Shah was supported by his chief minister, his brother Sikandar Hashmat, the finance minister Raja Balkrishan and two other officials. Wajid ‘Ali Shah turned to Outram and said, ‘Why have I deserved this? What have I committed?’ After the Resident’s stilted explanation, the treaty was handed to the king who read it carefully and then burst out, ‘Treaties are necessary between equals only; who am I now, that the British Government should enter into Treaties with?’ His honour and his country were gone, he continued. He did not want a pension from the British, but would go to England and throw himself at the foot of the throne to beg for reconsideration of the orders, and for mercy. His brother backed him up, saying that because the king was no longer independent (and had not been for a long time, he could have added), there was no need for a fresh treaty. Tactlessly, the king’s personal seal had already been attached to the treaty in the belief that he would sign it without argument.

  Wajid ‘Ali Shah, by now in tears, took off his turban and placed it in Outram’s hands as a sign of submission. The Resident, no doubt hugely embarrassed by this show of oriental grief, told the king he had three days to reconsider his position, and left the palace.70 On 7 February Outram received an official letter from the king stating that the treaty would not be signed. At midday it was therefore publicly announced that the kingdom had been made over to the British government, and that James Outram was its new chief commissioner. There was no longer a royal Court, and thus no need for a British Resident.

  The story of the journey to Calcutta has already been told, together with the unsuccessful mission to England. But how did the great revolt that broke out the following May affect Wajid ‘Ali Shah? Just over a year after the king had arrived in Calcutta, and while his mother, brother and son were still at Harley House in Marylebone, a curious event took place outside the hospital sortie gate at Fort William. The military headquarters of the East India Company was on full alert as the mutiny spread across northern India, and on 13 June 1857 a man called Abdul Subhan approached the sentry on duty at the Gate and told him, ‘We have conquered the country as far as Benares. On the festival of Eed, about a month and a half hence, we have made arrangements to take this Fort.’ The sentry, Hanuman Dubey, was a Hindu, but Subhan told him that although the two men were of different faiths, their cause was the same (‘Hindu aur Mussulman do deen rahi, magar ek hai.’)71

  Dubey reported the incident to his superiors and was questioned by Colonel Cavenagh, the town-major. Subhan was captured the following night and claimed to have come from Garden Reach and ‘the King of Lucknow’ who, he said, had 300 followers ready to seize Fort William. The man’s grasp of what was actually happening as the Uprising unrolled across the plains was shaky, but he insisted that he came on behalf of Wajid ‘Ali Shah and his armed retainers. Abdul Subhan was found guilty of ‘seducing’ the sentry from his allegiance to the British government and of inciting him to commit an act of mutiny. He was sentenced to be hanged on 15 June, in accordance with Act XIV of 1857, hastily passed as the extent of the rebellion became clear. With no evidence other than Subhan’s statement to support the idea that the king was planning his own uprising against the British, the governor general, Lord Canning, issued arrest warrants for Wajid ‘Ali Shah and his chief minister.

  Canning’s justification for the arrests reads strangely. There had been, he wrote in a minute of 18 June,72 a number of rumours that the king ‘and those about him were fomenting … mistrust and disaffection’ which had been noted by government, but not acted on for lack of hard evidence. Now the rumours were supported by significant facts, and as a result of Subhan’s actions it had become ‘necessary that decisive action should at once be taken to put a stop to the use of His Majesty’s name, whether used with, or without his authority’. The governor general was anxious that the king’s name ‘should not be made a rallying point for disaffected soldiers’,73 although he had no evidence that Wajid ‘Ali Shah or his courtiers were in fact involved in any conspiracy. He added that the king’s detention would not last long if matters settled down, but could give no guarantee of how long he and his party would be detained. A statement by the king that he had no intention of supporting the mutineers could have been published in the vernacular and English press, but this was not done. And somehow, the night before he was due to be hanged, Abdul Subhan managed to escape both from the iron handcuffs placed on him and from his prison cell, and was never heard of again. Had he been planted by British intelligence to discredit the king? The suspicion remains, particularly when the Secret Consultations of the Foreign Department reveal a message sent by electric telegraph from Canning to Sir Henry Lawrence, who had succeeded Outram as chief commissioner of Awadh. Dated 1 June 1857, it reads: ‘Will it embarrass you if I lay hands upon your people here? What do you think would be the effect at Delhie? It can be postponed if advisable.’74

  Following the decision on 14 June to arrest the king, Canning wrote to him the next day: ‘Sir—it is with pain that I find myself compelled to require that your Majesty’s person should for a season be removed to within the precincts of the For
t William’, and promised that he would be treated with respect and made as comfortable as possible. Wajid ‘Ali Shah was to be housed in what had been the governor general’s house before the grandiose Government House was built outside the Fort. It is a pleasant two-storeyed building that was used to accommodate visiting dignitaries including Bishop Reginald Heber, who described it as a ‘large and very handsome building in the centre of the Fort’, with lofty and well-proportioned rooms on the first floor and smaller offices at ground level, a typical eighteenth-century Calcutta mansion, in fact.75

  The king and his minister did not go alone into Fort William. Among the twelve courtiers who volunteered to share their indefinite confinement was the Paymaster General and commander of the Ja’fari platoon, Fateh-ud-daulah, who was to die in prison. The prisoners were allowed their own servants, including the troublesome female servant Karbala’i, who had to be sent back to Garden Reach after causing a disturbance in the king’s apartments. ‘So wicked, like poison in a snake’, wrote the king; ‘extremely quarrelsome, excessively argumentative, fighting everyone in all directions’. The prisoners were visited daily by Cavenagh and Major Herbert, who had been appointed ‘Agent to the Governor-General with the King of Oude’, and who submitted a weekly diary to the Secretary to the Foreign Department. Particular emphasis was placed on the prisoners’ physical wellbeing, and so that there could be no accusations of mistreatment, they were also visited by the garrison surgeon, Mr Macnamara. The news that the king was in prison was known to the inhabitants of Lucknow almost as soon as it happened. The situation there was desperate for the British who were besieged in the Residency, with little chance of escape during the summer. Had there been the slightest hint that the king was being humiliated, or physically threatened, then those in the Residency would have been in even more peril than they already were.

  In September 1857 the surgeon found the king ‘complaining of palpitation of the heart and also from other symptoms of dyspepsia and general depression. His pulse indicates that he is weak but of the many other symptoms from which he says he suffers I can form no opinion … he refuses to take medicine, stating that his mind is diseased and that drugs cannot relieve it. His attendants tell me that he has seldom risen from his bed during the last three months which fact will account for the attack of indigestion from which he suffers; they also assert and the Ex-King confirms the statement that his illness and distress is principally caused by his long absence from his Harem.’76

  Wajid ‘Ali Shah continued to complain of real or imagined symptoms during his confinement. He suffered at times from depression, vomiting, rheumatic pains in his back, ‘sickness, stomach pains and sleeplessness’, restlessness, nervous excitement, and pain in the head and shoulders. ‘Ali Naqi Khan was also ill with what was probably tuberculosis, and was reported coughing and spitting up blood. He was moved to the adjoining Royal Barracks and seemed to improve when he was allowed to walk on the flat roof in the evenings and be taken out for carriage rides by Major Herbert. In January 1858, seven months into his imprisonment, the king wrote to the governor general about the ‘affliction and distress’ he was enduring which he attributed to the fact that Canning suspected him and that ‘evildoers’ had made use of his name. ‘Owing to the grief and sorrow my indisposition has daily increased’, he continued. ‘Your Lordship is aware that I have always suffered from palpitations of the heart and nervous debility. Now, although my innocence and my duty as a subject demand that until Your Lordship is fully convinced of the former, I should not make any allusion to my being liberated yet owing to the very violent nature of my disease, debility and afflictions is it certain that I cannot live and it would cause me great anguish to die ere had I had seen my innocence established. I trust under these circumstances that your Lordship will grant me permission to rejoin my family and devote myself to the cure of my disorder … it is clear that I cannot here obtain, especially in the hot season, any relief from the disease under which I am suffering.’77 Canning remained unmoved by this plea, and the king remained in custody.

  ‘The Sorrows of Akhtar’ is the translation of Huzn-i-Akhtar, a long narrative poem or masnavi, written by Wajid ‘Ali Shah while in prison. In it he describes events and feelings that were not always recorded in the official British accounts. In particular he mentions an incident where he was verbally assaulted by a prison guard who was drunk. The king’s sleeping quarters were regularly inspected and ‘one night, in particular, I dozed, it was not sleep, but drowsiness. A “gentleman” came and spoke, (Oh God, let not those words be repeated!) He barked at me whatever occurred to him, ranting so much he finished only when tired, occasionally exclaiming “This is the king, bravo! Let us all destroy him together! My father and mother were killed, my dear relatives have left this world—kill this king in the same manner! Rid us of this nuisance”.’ Wajid ‘Ali Shah reported the event the following morning to Colonel Cavenagh, and asked plaintively what he had done to deserve such treatment. Cavenagh, no doubt alarmed, promised the king that there would be no further inspections of his bedchamber and added that the guard ‘spoke without cause while intoxicated’. But the poem goes on to relate that the guard’s sons then approached the king asking him what had happened. ‘I do not know anything’, he told them. ‘I obey the Colonel’s orders.’78

  There are verses commenting on the king’s prison companions, including Diyanat ud-Daulah, who was desperate to be allowed to go on a pilgrimage, ‘but the Council’s permission was not granted’. Later the eunuch offended the king in some way, and ‘having disappointed me, he was removed’. The death in custody, from illness, of Fateh-ud-daulah was described as the ‘dimming like a lamp at dawn’. The loyalty of his companions, who voluntarily shared his imprisonment, was emphasised. Zulfiqar ud-Daulah—brother to one of the king’s favourite wives,79 and thus the king’s brother-in-law—was praised, together with the younger brother of Fateh-ud-Daulah. ‘Accompanying me to prison [they] prepared to die for me like moths. Their hearts never succumbed to animosity. They are prepared to die for my name, they care for me like their own lives. In the same way, all the others are eager. By God! Nothing I say is untrue, my friend! Both women and men are loyal unto death. What great courage! What courage!’

  The governor general’s letters to the king were commented on: ‘the Lord-Sahib has a letter delivered, very attractive and well-styled. I shall describe the letter’s subject, as composed by Lord-Sahib.’ Wajid ‘Ali Shah then goes on to interpret Canning’s letter in a novel way, claiming that the governor general wrote: ‘although you never deserved incarceration, Your Highness’s honour will not alter. Like lightening, it will retain its brilliance. My officers and I will absolutely not breach your honour.’ The king further claimed that Canning admitted he had been ‘entirely coerced’ by his Council into imprisoning Wajid ‘Ali Shah, who was ‘blameless’ and ‘never deserved incarceration’. Although it happened to be true, in this case, it does reinforce the king’s attitude throughout his later life, that he was the hapless and innocent victim of a series of misfortunes, inflicted not only by the government, but by his own family members and friends too.

  It is not clear how much the king knew of events outside Fort William as the Uprising drew to a bloody conclusion, particularly in Lucknow. He does not refer to them in his poem. The prisoners were allowed to write and receive letters but the correspondence was examined before delivery, and requests for reading material had to be approved in advance. Communication between people at Garden Reach and the prisoners was prohibited, although the servants were allowed to bring home-cooked food for the prisoners twice a day. The various dishes were placed on a stand outside the building before being examined by a guard, who would then signal to the indoor staff that they could be taken inside.

  By the beginning of March 1858, Wajid ‘Ali Shah was worrying that he had not heard anything from his mother, who he believed was still in England.80 The news of Janab-i ‘Aliyyah’s death in Paris on 23 January had arrived in Calcu
tta by electric telegraph shortly after the event, but had been kept from the king because of his fragile state of health, both mental and physical. Major Herbert reported the king’s anxiety and had tried to quell it by explaining that the queen mother had gone to Paris for a change of air, as she was dangerously ill, but he held off from saying that she had actually died. Cavenagh was ordered to tell the king what had happened, but even he ducked out of this unpleasant task and instead told one of the king’s fellow prisoners, Mujahid-ud-Daulah. The latter agreed to deliver the news while expressing his own fears that the result would be too much of a shock for the invalid. But even a week later the king had still not been told. Mujahid-ud-Daulah explained that he had delayed breaking the news in the hope that the king would shortly be released and would be better able to bear the bereavement if he was surrounded by his family at Garden Reach. In the end Cavenagh had to tell the king, and this sad news was followed shortly afterwards by the report of Sikandar Hashmat’s death in London.

  Not surprisingly, the king’s thoughts turned towards his son, Prince Hamid ‘Ali, the only one of his three relatives to have survived the ill-fated visit to England. He wrote pleadingly at the end of 1858 for the young man to return home to India. This was not the first such letter either, and it is clear that the Prince was enjoying European life too much to heed his father’s wishes. ‘Though I am a prisoner’, wrote the king, ‘your mother [Khas Mahal] is at liberty. This will be better than our present separation and my heart even in the Fort William will be consoled by the knowledge that you are with your mother.’81 Another letter went to Bubu Jan, an old family servant, asking her to persuade the prince to come home because ‘he is in a foreign country and perfectly inexperienced’. A third letter went to Masih-ud-Din, asking him to make sure that the furniture and household articles purchased in England were carefully packed and sent to Calcutta for the Garden Reach home. When the prince did finally write to his father, he claimed not to have received Wajid ‘Ali Shah’s earlier letters, a fairly standard excuse for a teenager abroad even in those days.82