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In the wake of the 1857 Mutiny, the ipso facto dominance of the East India Company over India was replaced by the de jure rule of the British monarch. Gradually, that arrangement acquired the connotation of India being "the jewel in the crown" of the British Empire. Yet the scars and fears of the mutiny would prohibit any British monarchs from visiting India, for half a century. However, these apprehensions got considerably allayed in 1904, when the Prince of Wales and the princess spent six long months travelling through the length and breadth of India, to see India's historical monuments. And in the event, the future British king not only observed but came to understand India and its people more holistically, and empathetically than did the "home" Government and their satraps in India.
Making his first speech to Parliament in March 1911, the newly anointed king caused a flutter by making one statement which was outside the officially prepared text. He declared his intent to visit Delhi in December 1911 and be crowned there, as the Emperor of India! That unprecedented statement unleashed events culminating in a week-long pageant of such solemnity and dignified gaiety, together with the military ceremonial and display of opulence the kind of which the world had never witnessed before nor will there-after! To start with, 30 villages of Delhi were transformed into a fairy-tale, tented city with all modern contrivances, fit to host the King and the Queen as also his Indian satraps, the maharajas, nawabs, begums, rajas and the leading Indian public personalities of the era. One million pounds sterling was spent just to house the King and his personal entourage. Likewise, the Nizam of Hyderabad would spend one lakh pounds sterling from his exchequer, to set up his own enclosure within the Durbar "city". Naturally, the costumes of participants and spectators alike, especially of the Indian Royalty were simply dazzling. The jewels worn by the Maharaja of Patiala, for instance, were estimated at half a crore rupees! Who could then fault the man who would be their King Emperor and his Queen to be seated on throne-chairs made of 1911 kg solid silver, encrusted with gold plate and exclusively crafted for the Coronation, at the Calcutta Royal Mint.
The King's "Crown of India" was designed by the crown jewellers at London, it incorporated 6,000 diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds, ("one great sheet of diamonds," as a lady exclaimed!) and weighed more than one kg. Little wonder that the king felt, "rather tired after bearing the new crown for 3.5 hours. It hurt my head and is pretty heavy." Queen Mary's crown, perhaps lighter, but was possibly even more opulent; besides 2,200 diamonds it had as its centrepiece the 105-carat Kohinoor! The high point of the Coronation ceremonies was the grand review of troops. Under the command of General Sir O'Moore Creigh, the commander-in - chief, 50,000 British and Indian Officers and all ranks "saluted the King as one man." Fifty army bands comprising 1700 bands-men, played martial music of exceptional excellence. And the Royal Proclamation, which concluded the Ceremony, made public the well-kept secret that (a) as of December 1911, Delhi would be India's new capital, and (b) that Indian soldiers would henceforth be eligible for the Victoria Cross. There were a few conscientious objectors of the Durbar, too. Now all "Royals", were to walk to the throne-dais, one by one, in the order of their established precedence, each bowing thrice before the King, walking backwards for 20 paces before turning right and away to their seats. The Gaekwad of Baroda, (not submitting "to perform like some circus animal"), merely nodded his head at the King once, and turning his back, one hand in trouser pocket, twirling a swagger stick with the other, sauntered away. And the Maharao of Mewar, "the son of Surya," to his people, did arrive at the Delhi Railway Station but then conscience revolted, and ordered his special train to turnabout and take him home!! But then there was Moti Lal Nehru, kitted in garments specially tailored for the occasion in London, who castigated the Gaikwad's conduct in a letter to his son, as a setback for the "Swaragists". Thirteen young princes, sons of maharajas, were chosen as the king's and queen's "pages". They were drilled and rehearsed for days, how to hold the train of the royal robes up at their shoulder height, as their majesties walked to their thrones / seats. Now, during the "At Home" at the Red Fort, the Queen was in much lighter robes with a shorter train. But the pages (Maharaj Kumars of Orcha, Bikaner, Rewa and Sahebzada of Bhopal), lifted the robe-train "and they ended up displaying a little of what-well-- is not intended for the public gaze!" The Queen turned around and said "Oh! Not so high, Not so high!" to the general roar of laughter in which she herself joined in". As can be expected, the book has vintage black-and-white photographs and in good measure. And in the spirit of the bygone times, a paper with exquisite floral design is pasted on the book covers and the corners are reinforced with embossed, brass clips. Both, the book title and all lettering on the spine are in gold, over a crimson background. Altogether, a fascinating peep in to the imperial past, and a good bargain for the very reasonable price-tag.
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