Queen Victoria's Last Love Page #2

very alien.

And the skill that is needed

for that to be done

at a competent level

is going to be very,

very significant.

So what I see is, actually,

I'm very impressed with

what she was able to achieve,

only, what, about a year after

she had started learning Hindustani.

Over the years, the Queen's

Hindustani journals

would become a secret

channel of communication

between the monarch

and her munshi.

Some of the vocabulary

seems quite suggestive.

There's things like, "The Queen

will miss Abdul. " Translate.

"Give me a hug. " Translate.

I don't think it is actually that,

but it's stuff that seems

quite personal and intimate

that they felt the need

to be able to say to each other.

With his daily doses of Hindustani,

his tales from the Taj,

and his mango chutney,

Abdul had become

the Queen's undisputed favourite.

And she didn't care who knew it.

Abdul was kind of like a pet,

really,

like a beautiful tiger or something,

walking along beside the Queen,

and sometimes,

when they were on the continent,

people were quite confused

about who he was,

because he would follow her carriage

in his own carriage.

And it was said, in France,

for example,

that he was a captured Indian prince

that she paraded around

just to show the might

of the British Empire.

But not everybody was so taken

with the Palace new boy.

On entering royal service,

Abdul had landed in a world

governed by strict codes

of class and protocol.

At the top of the court hierarchy

were the ladies and gentlemen

of the royal household.

When Abdul arrived

at the English court,

it was like entering a labyrinth,

with layers and layers of people

going out and out and out.

At the heart of it

are the lords and ladies in waiting.

These are aristocrats,

then you get the actual servants

who do the cooking and cleaning.

So the idea that somebody who's

a servant, who is an outsider,

who has none of this pedigree,

none of this background,

can suddenly leapfrog

into a position

of great closeness to the Queen

is something that they find,

well, not only threatening,

but wrong.

Abdul soon found himself at odds

with the royal household,

led by the Queen's Private

Secretary, Sir Henry Ponsonby,

and Her Majesty's doctor,

Sir James Reid.

The household had never been used

to Indian servants,

and, um,

they really didn't like it.

Sir James had to deal

with them medically,

but there was much more to it

than that,

because the Queen was obsessed

by their clothes and comfort.

She was always worrying,

and Sir James had to have special

tweeds made for them,

but they had to be in Indian styles,

because she wanted them

to look exotic.

She gave Henry Ponsonby

a dictionary,

which I can just see

his wry face, you know,

I can imagine him going back

to the family and saying,

"Oh, she's given me a...

"Imagine, she's given me

a Hindustani dictionary,

"and I've got to learn Urdu now. "

Had Abdul just been pleased,

or happy with his position

as a khitmagar,

which is a waiter at table,

and all that,

they mightn't have minded so much.

But it was that he was getting

special treatment.

The Palace simmered with quiet rage

over the servant

who didn't know his place.

But the discontent

was about to boil over

into an unprecedented civil war

between the Queen and her own court.

Christmas, 1887.

At Osborne House, the Queen's staff

and family were looking forward

to the traditional highlight

of the festive season.

There is this rather strange form of

Victorian house party entertainment.

I think it's a shame that it's

fallen by the wayside - the tableau.

What you do is that you get all your

unwilling family and friends,

you get them to dress up,

you build your own scenery.

But it doesn't really matter

if nobody can act or sing.

You just arrange yourselves

into a sort of staging

of an old master painting...

or a biblical scene.

And then all sorts

of people carry props

representing this,

that and the other,

and there's slightly wonky

palm trees in the background.

The royal am-drams had been

a fixture in the household

from the early years

of Victoria's marriage.

25 years on, the Queen's children

were still providing

the onstage talent...

as were the aristocrats

of the royal household.

Usually, the more important

positions in the theme

would be held by

the more important people

and the members of the royal family.

The arrival of Abdul Karim and the

Indian servants changed everything.

Once Victoria had

the Indians at Osborne,

this was a great boon

for the staging of tableaux,

because now they could do scenes

from the East and that sort of thing

with genuine-looking characters.

If you needed wise men

for a nativity scene,

here you had them.

Straight from the East,

the real thing.

It wasn't only the royal repertoire

that was transformed

by Karim's arrival.

With each performance, Abdul himself

inched closer to the limelight.

It's quite interesting

to chart his rise to power

from the early ones,

where he's kind of an extra.

Just a servant in the background.

But as time goes on,

he gets promoted, if you like.

This was something, I think,

he was known to be very fond of.

I understand he would be

the main star, the director,

the overall and be-all.

There's one called The King Of Egypt

where he's...

he's on a throne.

He has his own slaves fanning him.

He's clearly the top guy now.

This man was a waiter,

but here he is as the king of Egypt.

And although it was only

on the stage, you know,

it actually meant something

in real life too.

The costumed capers mirrored

a real-life palace promotion.

By 1894, Abdul was already

a regular presence

at royal receptions.

Now, he was to be officially

elevated by Queen Victoria

to the position of

Her Majesty's Indian Secretary.

'As for Abdul Karim, the Queen

can never praise him highly enough.

'He is zealous and attentive,

'a thorough gentleman

in feelings and manners. '

Karim had crossed a line.

No longer a mere servant,

he was now elevated into

the top rank of the palace hierarchy

as a member of

the royal household itself.

The Queen's gentlemen

were not amused.

In the household at the time,

status is terribly important,

and someone who came

from India who was Indian

probably wouldn't have held

positional rank below stairs

above the most junior parlour maids,

housemaids, and junior boot boys.

And so, suddenly, when the Queen

chooses this individual

and places him not just in a

position of special servant to her,

but ultimately as

her private secretary,

this really upset everyone.

Karim was not only overturning

the established order

inside the royal household,

he was also about to fall out with

the most powerful man in the empire,

the Viceroy of India himself.

It all started with

a Christmas card.

"Hearty greetings to

His Excellency, the Earl of Elgin.

"To wish you a happy Christmas. "

"From Mh. Abdul Karim

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