In the City of Gold and Silver

Europa Editions
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 1987 by Editions Robert Laffont, Paris
First publication 2014 by Europa Editions
Translation by Anne Mathai in collaboration with Marie-Louise Naville
Original Title:
Dans la ville d'or et d'argent
Translation copyright © 2014 by Europa Editions
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Cover Art by Emanuele Ragnisco
www.mekkanografici.com
Cover image © Blue Lantern Studio/Corbis
ISBN 9781609452421

Kenizé Mourad

IN THE CITY OF GOLD AND SILVER

Translated from the French
by Anne Mathai in collaboration with Marie-Louise Naville

To my Aunt,
Begum Wajid Khan

“The Begum of Awadh shows greater strategic sense and courage than all her generals put together.”
The Times,
1858
“The lessons of the 1857 insurrection are very clear. No one likes another people conquering their territory, depriving them of their land, or forcing them to adopt better ideas under the threat of arms. In 1857, the British discovered what the United States are learning now: nothing radicalises a people so greatly or undermines moderate Islam to such an extent, as an aggressive intrusion.”
William Dalrymple

T
he historical events and the heroes of this story are real.

This saga is situated in Awadh, a kingdom in the north of India, equivalent in its heyday to today's Uttar Pradesh, as vast as half of France.

As it is a novel and not a biography, we have taken certain liberties while remaining true however to the characteristics of society at the time.
*
 

I
n 1856, the British East India Company reigns over India. In less than a century, this association that had obtained the right to trade from small coastal enclaves, just like the French, Dutch, and Portuguese companies, begins to meddle in the quarrels between Indian sovereigns who are staking their claims to independence as the power of the Mughal Empire declines. The Company offers support and armed troops in exchange for unlimited commercial rights and huge rewards. It also takes the liberty to intervene, with increasing brutality, in the politics of the states it is supposed to protect.

Soon, it gains direct or indirect control over all the states in India. Between 1756 and 1856, the Company annexes around a hundred of these states in the name of the British Crown. They represent about two thirds of the country's surface and three quarters of the population. The Company does not annexe the remaining states. It deems it more efficient to leave them under the rule of the sovereigns, who have grown submissive out of necessity and are, in reality, under the Company's domination.

In the early days of January 1856, this is still the situation in Awadh,
1
the richest kingdom in north India.

H
e has insulted the king again!”

Malika Kishwar strides furiously up and down her bedroom surrounded by her terrified servants. She, who is usually so controlled, can barely speak now, suffocated by her indignation. How she hates these
Angrez
,
2
who behave as if they are the masters here, humiliating her highly respected sovereign, her beloved son, day after day. She, the first lady of the kingdom of Awadh is going to stop these boors . . . Stop them? In frustration, she throws off her
dupatta
3
, revealing her impressive figure, while a young servant hurries to pick it up. What can she do? She had tried so many times to convince the king to oppose his “friends and protectors'” escalating demands, but Wajid Ali Shah, normally so gentle, had finally expressed his irritation:

“I beg you not to keep bringing up this subject, honoured mother. The Company is always looking for reasons to confiscate the state. We must not give them any, but rather show what loyal allies we are.”

“Loyal allies? Of these traitors?” she almost retorted, but the look on the king's face forced her to remain silent. His eyes were so sad, his expression so distraught that she realised it would be pointless, cruel even, to insist. No one suffered the indignity of this degrading situation more than he did. The resident, the powerful East India Company's representative, had been the real ruler of the kingdom for years now, while he, her son, the king, held only an empty title. He was really no more than a puppet in the hands of this Company, who for the last century had used influence, threats, and deceitful promises to appropriate all the sovereign states, one after the other.

She does not understand . . .
How did we get ourselves into this situation?

 

The heavy drapes at the entrance to her room part. A eunuch wearing a white
pyjama
4
with a long prune-coloured velvet
kurta
5
announces the arrival of the king's first and second wives. Their silk trains rustle behind them as they enter with haughty smiles and majestic steps; their fair complexions confirm the purity of their lineage. The first wife is about thirty, the second barely younger, but they have grown plump and have aged prematurely due to their idle lifestyle and the vast quantities of sweets they consume. They do not care, their position is assured: they each have a son. According to
zenana
6
 
rules, they should hate each other—power struggles are merciless in this cloistered world—but they are friends, or at least, they seem to be.

Malika Kishwar is no fool. She admires her oldest daughter-in-law's skill. Alam Ara has conquered her rival with an assiduous and demanding affection, never leaving her a moment of freedom, lending her servants and eunuchs who report her every word, and convincing her that their boys cannot do without each other. In short, she has wrapped her in the gossamer web of her unfailing love. What better way to prevent her from plotting? The discreet Raunaq Ara is no match for her opponent Alam Ara. Yet, Raunaq Ara, the daughter of the
grand vizier
,
7
had long been Wajid Ali Shah's favourite, but gradually he grew tired of her, as he tires of all the beauties who grace his palace, one after the other.

After bowing to the Queen Mother in a respectful
adab
,
8
Alam Ara straightens up and enquires:

“What is going on,
Huzoor
?
9
The eunuchs told me the Angrez has surpassed himself with his insolence and has even threatened His Majesty? We must do something!”

Her eyes are ablaze. An insult to her lord and master is an insult to her, and the first wife, who is proud of belonging to one of Delhi's noblest families, is cruelly affected by these constant humiliations.

Malika Kishwar allows an ironic smile to flit over her lips. She is aware of her daughter-in-law's vanity, but she also knows that in order to attain the envied status of the Queen Mother one day, Alam Ara would never risk the slightest gesture against their execrable masters.

“Go to my son, he is very upset. You know how sensitive he is. Stay close to him, comfort him with your respect and admiration and help him forget this painful scene. It is all you can do.”

Then with a wave of her hand, she dismisses them. Today, she is not in the mood to listen to their complaints or the impossible plots they spend hours on end hatching. She can feel it; danger is clearly approaching. She needs to consult her astrologer.

 

* * *

 

A servant informs the two wives that the king is in the
parikhana
, the “house of fairies” at the heart of Kaisarbagh, the Emperor's Garden.

Kaisarbagh is a series of palaces built in a quadrangle around an immense park. It is a mixture of baroque exuberance with its pale yellow or turquoise stucco and its balconies festooned with high archways, framed by pilasters reminiscent of Versailles. A multitude of Mughal-style cupolas reminds one of the East. Wajid Ali Shah had chosen this syncretism when as crown prince he had this majestic complex built for his many wives, favourites and dancers. Kaisarbagh is vast, bigger than the Louvre and the Tuileries palaces combined.

Located at one end of the garden, decorated with fountains and white marble Venuses and Cupids, the “house of fairies” is a music, dance and singing school reserved for young girls recruited by the kingdom for their charm and beauty. They constitute the king's artistic troupe, a choir and dance ensemble, essential to the sovereign with his passion for music and verse. He is an excellent poet himself, the author of a collection of a hundred literary booklets and highly respected by both Indian and foreign specialists.
10

 

When the two begums enter the
parikhana
, the “fairies” have just begun to perform a play.

Strange characters wearing crinoline or the British officers' red uniforms hold forth on the stage. They are miming the occupiers to the laughter and applause of a few dozen women reclining on thick carpets strewn with velvet cushions.

“These natives really have no moral sense. They have innumerable wives and concubines!” declares a fat lady wearing an apple green crinoline dress in a piercing voice.

“And the poor things put up with it, how undignified!”

“What can you expect with their slave mentality? If my husband ever dared look elsewhere . . . ”

As an aside, two “officers” comment:

“I am not criticising their lack of morals, but their lack of practical sense. If one of us were to take a mistress, would we be stupid enough to make an issue of it? When we have had enough, we would just leave her. If, unfortunately, she happens to get pregnant, well, that is not our problem! Here, just because they have slept with one of these beauties, these imbeciles feel obliged to provide her with an allowance and a status, and to recognise all their bastards as legitimate children. Can you imagine the inheritance problems we would have if we were to do the same?”

A pink crinoline with a nasal tone:

“My dear, just imagine, one of my servants had herself chosen a second wife for her husband! She said she was getting old and did not want to share his bed any more, nor did she want to do the housework. The second wife would take care of it all and, on top of that, she would look after her with respect and . . . gratitude.”

“Really, these Muslims have no morals!”

“The Hindus are no better!”

“Muslim or Hindu, these people's only laws are laziness and sensuality,” intervenes a blue crinoline. “Which Christian would dream of refusing to do her wifely duty, even if she does not enjoy it? When my husband is in the mood and wants to . . . well, I pray . . . ”