Victoria & Abdul (37 page)

I had quite a strange experience in this country (England). That is true to your being an Empress of multi-cultural empire, I have always found you quite free from the fire of jealousy born out of religion. All your subjects are one in your eyes. Secondly, wherever there was some contention, despite being ill advised by jealous persons, you never gave up your commitment to truth. Sometimes you did not heed even your own child. Thirdly, you have earned such a great goodwill and empathy from your empire that it will certainly be of a great help to our young Prince. Not to lose heart and that too in this age is a great thing. I have never seen your highness idle and have been witness to the fact that you almost always completed your daily work and never left it for tomorrow.

You never signed any document without going through it and whenever a signature was not needed, and such letters were also despatched same day and you also acknowledged the letters coming from all over the world the same day.

By the grace of God, I have been in this country for thirteen years (as per Islamic calendar) and for twelve years as English (Julian) calendar.

I have written my entire experience in the book. But it goes without saying that serving the Empress of India (Kaiser-e-Hind) has been a very taxing and ever vigilant work. I have never had an hour of idleness or a day of leave. On the day of General Holiday, often more work is to be done as thousands of letters have to be acknowledged the same day. Nevertheless, it is a matter of great joy that at least twice or thrice or four times a year, we have to go for hunting. And I like this much more than dance or other games. In January, the hunting of
barasingha
[stag] and fishes is pretty difficult. In the month of November and December the hunting of birds is quite absorbing and interesting.

But despite the whole day’s work and tiredness there is nothing like rest for you in the evening. You perform all the necessary work and do all the work related to court. And whatever the writer and readers have to bring forth before you, they must bring that also. You never like to be absent. This is proved by the twelfth book. For ten years we have been given various gifts like books
and photographs on Christmas. Apart from this, I have been also made the chief of all the servants. Apart from all these works, the works related to the management of Indian servants is also there. So anyone can guess that in the court of the Empress, there is no let up in work, even for one hour.

It is only when you go outside for some travel, your servants like me also get some respite and enjoy that. Only this much is possible.

Now I would like to mention something about the end of 1898 because I have been in the habit of saying something at the end of every year. The year 1898 has left many memorable things. And they were quite revolutionary. This is most unfortunate that in comparison to other religions, Islam and the Muslims have not been given their due. This is what I think. Nevertheless it is a matter of gratitude for me that I have been promoted to the great consternation of the persons jealous to me. It is also a grace of God that on your 80th birthday you are so happy and fortunate and full of command.

But since the world is always full of happiness as well as sorrow, this year saw the demise of the son of Koburg
sahib
[Duke of Coburg]. But it is a matter of solace that before his death he was able to come up to your expectation and did the work well, which was assigned by you to him. I am my dear readers, Your most humble and obedient servant, M.H. Abdul Karim, CIE, CVO.
¹²

The three-page entry left little doubt of the Munshi’s sincere regard for the Queen and the high estimation in which he held her. It was almost as if the Munshi had unburdened himself before the Queen and any future reader who may follow his account.

The Household had stopped him from publishing a journal some years back. The Hindustani Journals became the space where he gave his account without any censorship. His praise for Henry Ponsonby and genuine concern for the health and future well-being of the Prince of Wales is quite touching, given that the future King had no love lost for him.

In August that year, James Reid married Susan Baring, maid of honour to the Queen, surprising the Court who had presumed he would remain a bachelor. The Queen was upset with the marriage since she did not like losing any of her ladies-in-waiting, but soon came round to the idea.

The Munshi returned to India in early November 1899. The Queen wrote in her thirteenth Hindustani Journal that she would be having her last lesson for some time as he was going away. She went to see the Munshi’s wife to say goodbye and ‘to give her my little Christmas present’, a signed photograph of herself.
¹³

In December that year, the new Viceroy – Lord Curzon – wrote to the Queen that during his visit to Agra he had the pleasure of meeting Dr Wuzeeruddin, the Munshi’s father. ‘He was a courtly old gentleman and had many interesting experiences to relate. Unfortunately the Munshi was too unwell to accompany his parent,’ said the Viceroy.
¹⁴
Clearly the strain of the Court politics and the long sea journey had caught up with the Munshi.

T
he Munshi’s father died in June. The Queen received the news from Karim and her heart went out for the old man whose son she had got to know so well and from whom she had learnt so much about India. She wrote immediately to Karim and to the Viceroy, who sent a feeling response:

I had already heard with great regret of the death of the Munshi’s father. The Viceroy recalls with much pleasure his interview with the old gentleman at Agra in December last, when he was much struck at the courtly manner and interesting conversation of the Khan Bahadur. He was a most devoted subject of your Majesty.

The Munshi’s father – once a humble hospital assistant – died a titled man, living in a grand house with acres of land. The Queen and Karim had provided well for him. The Munshi remained in India following his father’s death winding up the affairs of his estate.

It was a year of heartbreaking news for the Queen. She had lost her grandson, Alfred (young Affie), in the Boer War. In July she received news of the death of her son, the Duke of Coburg, to cancer. She was given the news after breakfast and got up slowly, saying, ‘My people will feel for me’. Her maid-in-waiting, Marie Mallet, recalled how she wept silently and remembered his early days. The Queen had buried three children and three sons-in-law – all of whom had been in their prime – and this last blow was more than she could bear. A pall of gloom hung over the Royal palaces as news of the ravages of the war came in. In October the
Queen received the telegram informing her of the death of her grandson, Prince Christian Victor, in South Africa.

The Munshi returned in November. It had been nearly a year since he had left. Marie Mallet was not particularly welcoming: ‘The Munshi has also returned after a year’s absence in India, why the plague did not carry him off I cannot think, it might have done one good deed!’
¹
she wrote.

The Queen – frail and lonely as she had become – was delighted to have her dear Munshi back. Both had lost their loved ones in the last few months. Karim was shocked to see how pale she looked. The Queen had made her last journey from Balmoral the night before, requesting that there should be no one at the platform at Ballater. The weather had been gloomy, a grey drizzle visible from the waiting room at the railway station, where she had sat by the fire and had a cup of tea with her daughter Beatrice. The Queen slept badly that night, knowing she would not be returning to her beloved Highland home. Back in Windsor, with her Munshi by her side, the Queen felt better and resumed her lessons immediately. On 7 November 1900, she wrote in Urdu:

Today, I reached here safely from Balmoral. The weather was not good. It is a matter of sorrow that we do not write the lesson well today because we paid attention to it after a year. The Munshi returned the day before yesterday.

The whole of this year we faced grievous shocks and concerns. Many a famous man was wasted in war. My son, Duke of Coburg, passed away. Prince Gracious Victor died of fever ten days ago.
²

It was the Queen’s last entry in her Hindustani Journal. She was soon to become seriously ill.

Osborne, 22 January 1901

The Queen died in my arms at 6.30, the Kaiser on the other side of the bed, helping me and supporting her.

James Reid made the entry in his diary and wiped a tear. A whole era had ended and the anxiety and stress of the last few days was just beginning to sink in. The Queen had died surrounded by her family in her favourite holiday home in Osborne. She had been confined to her bed for the last few weeks, showing signs of dyspepsia, impaired nutrition and brain fatigue. The doctor diagnosed it as ‘periods of insomnia and mental confusion, brought on by damaged cerebral circulation after years of constant brain work through a long life of Royal responsibilities and Imperial events, domestic sorrows and anxieties specially in her later years’.
³
She drifted in and out of sleep, the doctor constantly by her side. Even in her semi-conscious state she asked Reid what her people would think because she had not ridden out for several days and wondered if they were getting anxious.

The Queen’s last entry in Urdu in her Hindustani Journal.

The Prince of Wales was summoned to Osborne and the Kaiser of Germany came to see his ‘grandmama’ before she died. He had troubled her during her reign with his hostile attitude to Britain and his uncaring attitude to his mother, the Queen’s eldest daughter Victoria, but now came to make his peace. The Kaiser’s arrival caused a stir and journalists started gathering around Osborne House as it came to be known that the Queen was dying. Regular updates on the Queen’s health prepared by
Reid were posted outside the gates of Osborne House. The sight of reporters dashing to the post office at Cowes to telegraph their copies to the news desks was becoming familiar. Mr Mott, postmaster at Cowes post office, had to lay on more staff to cope with the demand.

The day before her death, the Queen had been given oxygen frequently and in the afternoon asked for her favourite dog, Turi. He was out for exercise, but on his return was taken and put on the Queen’s bed. She patted him and seemed pleased to have him beside her. In her drowsy state, the Queen asked for the Prince of Wales and asked him to kiss her face.

On the morning of 22 January, the Queen started sinking after breakfast and the doctor nearly thought it all over by ten o’clock, but she rallied again after the last prayer was read. Regaining consciousness, she asked for the clergyman, Mr Smith, and recognised the Kaiser. She was left alone with her grandson for five minutes. Reid remained by her side all day and she murmured his name several times. Her last words to her doctor were, ‘I will do anything you like’, a sad testament to how helpless and vulnerable the wilful Queen suddenly felt. The end came at 6.30 in the evening and was peaceful and dignified, the Queen dying in the arms of her trusted doctor, with the Kaiser holding her other hand.