Reminiscences of the Raj
By Shona Adhikari

EMILY EDEN was the elder of the two sisters who accompanied their brother George Auckland when he arrived in India to take charge of the exalted office of the Governor-General of India. A total change from the life they had been used to, Emily during her six years in India, never seemed to come to terms with the grand lifestyle, thrust upon her, and a constant refrain in her letters to friends in England centred around her longing to return to "our little villa at Kensington Gore". While her longing for ‘home’ remained throughout her stay in India, she nevertheless took a very keen interest in the happenings around her. An artist of no mean merit, she recorded everything that took her fancy, leaving behind a legacy of splendid sketches and paintings of her alien experiences in India — almost all of which are to be seen at the Victoria Memorial in Calcutta.

Her discomfiture about all the unfamiliar surroundings and ways also did not prevent her from faithfully recording the unfamiliar ‘goings-on’ through letters, all written in a lively style with a very special brand of humour. Emily Eden’s highly descriptive letters written in the form of a journal offer an insight into the life and times of British India that has no parallel in history.

In accompanying her brother on his postings as Governor-General, Emily and her younger sister Fanny were plunged into the lavish style of living that surrounded the personage of the most important British officer in India. Having spent a greater part of their lives at the family farm in Kent, and later as hostess to her brother at his town house in London, Emily and her sister were ill-prepared for the long sea journey. The first glimpse of Sagar Island in the Bay of Bengal was a vast relief after the five-month voyage, and was thus duly recorded in Emily’s journal as "a lovely jungle in sight". Reaching Calcutta on March 4, 1836, in the excitement of the moment it was natural for everyone to forget that it was Emily’s 39th birthday.

The red carpet welcome that was accorded to George Auckland and his two sisters left Emily totally amazed. The grandeur of government house made her proclaim that their residence looked rather like "a palace out of Arabian Nights", and about the lavish goings-on "it is more like a constant theatrical representation going on. Everything is so picturesque and so utterly un-English." "Retinues of servants followed wherever they went, waiting on them hand and foot, and presenting arms every time Emily went out of the room in search of her keys or a handkerchief. This was initially quite unnerving, and she writes humourously about her brother’s retinue of servants, "He never stirs without a tail of joints after him." However, it did not take long for them to become accustomed to all the attention, and Emily soon recorded that for his part the Governor-General was "as happy as a king".

Life at government house was a constant round of receiving visitors and grand soirees and balls, and the two sisters were soon worn out by the unending stream of callers. Emily records: "The visiting time is from 10 to 1 in the mornings, and we found it so fatiguing to have 100 or 120 people at that time of day, that we have now chosen Tuesday evenings and Thursday mornings, and do not mean to be at home the rest of the week". The callers were local residents or those passing through, and fortunately for the sisters, they did not stay long. Humourously, Emily writes that she hopes that these callers would not compare notes, as "some of my topics served many times over".

A journey up-country was undertaken by Lord Auckland and his two sisters on October 21, 1837. It was 18 months of "travelling by steamers, tents, and mountains". Their voyage took them through Patna, Benaras and Allahabad, all duly recorded, both in letters and drawings. The Durbar at Cawnpore was a grand affair, and the heir apparent of the Nawab of Oudh was one of those who attended. They travelled up to Lucknow by carriage, and Emily records: "The road was so awfully bad that we were shaken about the carriage most uncomfortably and covered in dust." But the magnificence of the sights of Lucknow quite made up for the discomfort.

The heir-apparent gave the distinguished guests a fabulous breakfast in the palace, and Emily writes: "The throne is gold, with its canopy and umbrella and pillars covered with cloth of gold, embroidered in pearls and small rubies. Our fat friend, the prince, was dressed to match his throne; and there were jugglers and nautch girls and musicians, all working at their vocations during breakfast".

Delhi was for Emily a dream city, and while the Governor-General could not go to the palace inside the walled city due to protocol, nothing could stop Emily and her sister from visiting it the very day after they reached the city. They caught a glimpse of the solitary figure of the Mughal Emperor sitting in the garden with a lone attendant. As Emily writes, the picture of decay is complete, "The garden is all gone to decay too, and the ‘Light of the World’ had a forlorn and darkened look".

The journey to Simla was a great relief for Lord Auckland and his sisters, as the constant travel and the heat in the plains had begun to tell on their health. The Governor-General had purchased a house on the north-eastern spur of the hill, and in 1838, he named the house ‘Elysium’, in honour of the Eden sisters. Emily who loved the house, described it as "A jewel of a house, which has turned out the wonder of Simla". They had carried carpets, chandeliers and wall shades all the way from Calcutta, and managed to make themselves quite comfortable in their new home.

A welcome distraction offered by the durbar to receive the Governor-General was to receive the deputation of 12 Sikhs, sent by Maharaja Ranjit Singh. A return mission soon left Simla for Lahore to place the Anglo-Sikh alliance on a secure footing, which was duly recorded by Emily, who wrote: "It is a matter of great importance just now that he (referring to Maharaja Ranjit Singh) should be our faithful ally, so we make much of him, and I rather look to our interview with him next November". The arrangement for the state visit to the Punjab went according to plan, and, on her brother’s request, Emily painted a portrait of Queen Victoria in her coronation robes, as a present for Maharaja Ranjit Singh. The painting had to be sent to Delhi to have ‘a frame of gold set with turquoise.’

After a comfortable stay of seven months in Simla, the thought of travel and staying in tents, for the state visit to Punjab, was something that the Governor-General and his sisters were not looking forward to. The heat and later the incessant rain that followed them through the journey added to their misery. Despite all the inconveniences the party managed to reach Punjab on schedule. Preparations for the summit meeting were on in grand style, and at Ludhiana, they were met by the cavalry, artillery and infantry regiments who became their official escorts. On reaching Ferozepur the Maharaja’s son and heir Kharak Singh came to the British camp to welcome the distinguished visitors, a day before the meeting with Maharaja Ranjit Singh.

The day of great meeting arrived and the Governor-General and his entourage went on elephants to receive the Maharaja at the entrance to the British camp. According to Emily, "There were such a number of elephants that the clash at meeting was very great, and very destructive to the howdas and hangings".

Maharaja Ranjit Singh was escorted by Lord Auckland to the reception tent, and later to an inner tent where the sisters were able to observe the Maharaja. Emily wrote in her candid style: " He is exactly like an old mouse, with grey whiskers and one eye." The array of gifts was presented with a flourish, and Emily’s portrait of Queen Victoria much admired. Maharaja Ranjit Singh personally escorted them to the Golden Temple at Amritsar, where Lord Auckland made an offering of Rs 16,000. They were, in turn, presented with some fine shawls. The march to the capital began soon after, and reaching Lahore, they camped near the famous Shalimar Gardens, where a grand banquet was thrown in their honour by the maharaja. Emily managed to paint some excellent portraits during their almost two-month trip to the Punjab, including what was the last portrait of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, who died six months after.

The return to Simla was very trying to the group as it rained incessantly, and Emily fell ill on the way. She had to stay at the Delhi Residency for ten days to recover before travelling back to Simla. Once back in the cool weather, she quickly recovered and the sisters were once again plunged into the merry society life of the hill station.

On their way back to Calcutta at the end of the year they visited Mathura and Vrindavan, and even attended a fete thrown for them by the Raja of Bharatpur at Fatehpur Sikri. Stopping for a couple of days at Akbar’s historic city, Emily made some excellent sketches of Salim Chishti’s tomb and the Diwan-i-Khas. Another city they visited on the way was Gwalior, where they were hosted to lavish receptions, by the Maharaja and his entourage. Here again Emily made some interesting observations writing that the ruler of Gwalior wore "three large ropes, or rather cables of pearls, and those round his throat are as big as pigeon’s eggs."

Lord Auckland and his sisters left Calcutta in March 1842, having spent six years in India. Soon after her return home, Emily put together some of her drawings, and a year later they were published as a large folio volume of 24 plates entitled, Portraits of the Princes and Peoples of India. Except for one portrait, all these portraits are to be seen at the Victoria Memorial collection.

Emily’s letters written in journal form to her elder sister appeared in 1866 under the title Up the Country: Letters Written to Her Sister from the Upper Provinces of India. This book met with instant success and was reprinted six times in the 19th century in 1867, 1872, and in the 20th century in 1930, 1978, 1983 and 1984. Two more collections of her letters appeared after her death, edited by her niece (1892) and grand niece (1919). However to understand the vivacious personality of Emily Eden, one must read Jagmohan Mahajan’s well-researched book, The Grand Indian Tour, which successfully captures an era in history.