Victoria & Abdul (16 page)

‘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.

T
he 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 about 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.

Ahmed Husain developed a high temperature as soon as they arrived and the Queen had another ill Indian on her hands. However, Husain’s constant grumblings about Karim vexed her and she wrote a note to Reid:

Though I have been speaking to you on this subject, I wish to say a few words with reference to what you told me on several occasions of Ahmed Husain’s complaints and insinuations, I think that you should
at once
have told the Munshi Abdul Karim of them and to have ascertained what reasons there were, or were not for
the complaints. I of course, told the Munshi of the complaints and especially with respect to the cook. He is
naturally
most deeply hurt at them and I must say I have
also been
and I must confess that I am
much
annoyed at your
always seeming
to believe Ahmed’s complaints and not to ask explanation from the
responsible
person, whose greatly superior education, very high character, and confidential position about me,
warrant
implicit credence being given to what he says.

The Queen was clearly annoyed not only with Ahmed Husain, but also with Reid for seemingly being sympathetic to Husain. She told him the Munshi had been very hurt by Husain’s behaviour as he had always been very kind to him and done everything he had wished for. She instructed Reid to inform the Munshi immediately when complaints were made. ‘It would be better even now to ask the Munshi about the cooking,’ she said, as Husain seemed to be having a problem with the meals that were being prepared. What hurt the Queen was the fact that Reid was reiterating Ahmed Husain’s complaints to her, as she felt it was a slight to Karim. ‘I am much pained and hurt at your speaking against
him
and thinking ill of such a person
whom I know
so thoroughly and who is in every way such a high-minded and excellent young man,’ she told him.

In keeping peace between the Indian servants, the Household and Karim, Reid found himself being drawn into areas which were well outside his remit as a doctor. Increasingly, however, this would become the norm, as he became the mediator between the Queen and the rest of the Household over the affairs of the Munshi. The Queen may have written angry letters to him, but she had a high opinion of her Scottish doctor and relied on him more than anyone else in her Household.

When Reid explained to the Queen that it was necessary for him to ask Husain what was distressing him, since he was treating him medically, the Queen relented. She, however, made sure she told Reid again that he was on no account to think ill of the Munshi. ‘I hope that you will not again think that the Munshi is to blame, when
I tell
you
I know
it is a fact
not
to be so,’ commanded the elderly Queen.

Karim was a clear favourite over the others. The Queen wanted his portrait painted by Von Angeli. She explained to her
eldest daughter Vicky that the artist was very keen to paint Abdul Karim as he had never painted an Indian before. ‘He … was so struck with his handsome face and colouring that he is going to paint him on a gold ground!’ she wrote in delight. ‘I daresay it will be very fine …’
²
The Queen watched the portrait being painted and a few days later wrote that he had done a ‘fine head of Abdul Karim, whom he [Von Angeli] admired so much’.