A striking figure in that vast assembly was the late Emperor Frederick of Germany, who was a very handsome man. His appearance was so noble it was a delight to watch his looks and dignity. There was a grand but rather small evening party at Buckingham Palace on the same day as the Jubilee ceremony at Westminster. Her Majesty, looking very happy, stood in the middle of the room, with all the foreign Princes and Princesses in their full-dress costumes, and covered with splendid jewels and decorations, around her. After making my curtsies to Her Majesty and the Royal Princesses, I was introduced to several foreign Royalties, one of whom was the late Grand Duke of Hesse. I shall never forget the charming way in which the Duchess of Connaught presented him to me; she just said: “My brother-in-law, the Grand Duke.” I don’t think the world has ever witnessed such a wonderful Royal gathering as that, with such magnificent jewels, and full-dress uniforms of brilliant colours, and the array of medals and orders that covered many breasts. One and all looked happy, and that in itself made the party a “great success.” Our congratulations to Her Majesty on her Jubilee were sincere, loyal, and warm.
Life passed very swiftly and pleasantly for me during the Jubilee celebrations, and I was thoroughly spoiled, much to the delight of my husband. I have many recollections of that memorable year, and can picture to myself many of my kind and charming hostesses. I remember once in the supper-room at Buckingham Palace my husband introduced the Ex-Kaiser, then Prince William, to me, and the young prince bent down and kissed my hand. I blushed and my throat grew dry; my hand had never been kissed before by a man. After the Prince left us I tried to scold my husband in Bengali, but he laughed, and said: “Sunity, it is a great honour that your hand should be kissed by the future German Emperor; you ought to feel proud.” I admired Prince William and the way in which the foreign Royalties showed their respect for ladies.
We went to Windsor Castle one day to present our gifts to Her Majesty. My husband chose a little diamond pendant with an uncut ruby in the middle, and told me to give it to Her Majesty. I said to my husband: “I shall be too nervous,” but he urged me: “Just a few words, Sunity; it will please Her Majesty.” Little did my husband know what those few words cost me. We went by special train to Windsor, and when we arrived at the Castle we were received by the equerries and high officials. It was the day for Indians to pay their homage to their Empress. Captain Muir was in command of the bodyguard on duty. We entered the throne-room where the Queen was, and I presented our little present with a few words to Her Majesty, who graciously accepted it and thanked me. I made a deep curtsy and walked backwards, feeling nervous at the thought of mistakes in my little speech and curtsy, but people who were present in the room said afterwards the Maharani of Cooch Behar’s words were clear and her curtsy was most graceful.
One evening we dined with Mr. and Miss Kinnaird. The table was decorated with masses of scarlet roses specially sent over from Paris. The perfume of the roses took my memory back to the old Belghuria garden. I enjoyed this dinner very much. We were going on to an evening party at the Guildhall, and the Maharajah asked one of the gentlemen in the Royal suite who was at the dinner whether full dress or evening dress was expected. “Ordinary evening dress, your Highness,” was the reply. However, to our dismay, when we reached the Guildhall we found all the men were in full dress. My husband felt very uncomfortable at being the only man in evening dress, and would not go near the Royal dais; a fact which did not escape the notice of the Prince of Wales. His Royal Highness sent for my husband. “What’s the matter, Maharajah?” he inquired, and the reason was explained. The Prince was anxious to know the name of the gentleman who had made the mistake, but my husband would not give him away. Thereupon the Prince turned to me and said with a smile: “Oh, Maharani, you are a very careless wife. You haven’t dressed your husband properly.” Every one smiled, and the Prince’s kindly tact put the Maharajah completely at his ease. When we went into the supper-room, Her Majesty the late Empress Frederick came and stood beside me and asked many questions about Indian home-life and customs. Her Majesty said: “How do you address your husband? Do you call him by his name?” I said: “No, Ma’am, we generally address our husbands in the third person.” “How would you call your husband if you wanted him now?” I said: “Ogo.” “What does that mean?” asked the Empress. “Please, dear.” She laughed, and they all, the Empress included, began to call each other “Ogo.” Then Her Majesty looked at my hair and asked: “Is that all your own hair?” “Yes, Ma’am,” I said. “What a lovely lot of hair you have!”
I admired everybody and everything with whole-hearted admiration, but I think my utmost meed of devotion was paid to Queen Alexandra (then Princess of Wales), who was as kind as she was beautiful, and so womanly that my heart went out to her.
I first discovered at a dinner given by a bachelor friend of the Maharajah’s that punctuality was not considered a virtue in London. The invitation was for 7.45, but the last guest did not arrive until ten minutes to nine, and I was told that “no one is ever punctual in London.” I was so tired that I fainted with the arrival of the soup, but revived enough to eat dinner, and we afterwards went on to an entertainment where I saw Letty Lind dance. She was then a pretty girl and danced exquisitely. To our great pleasure and pride the Prince of Wales came and sat in our box. My husband said to me in Bengali: “Do ask His Royal Highness if he will honour us with his company at supper,” and when I did ask, how graciously he accepted and thanked us! We knew he had a party of his own, and I could not help thinking: “It must be because H.R.H. is fond of my husband that he did not refuse,” and I appreciated the honour all the more. As the Prince left our dining-room, one of the gentlemen of our party overheard him remark to his equerry: “I do like Cooch Behar, he is such a straightforward man.” I remember how pleased I was when these words were repeated to me. That was my husband all through his life—straightforward. He scorned the subterfuges which those of his rank often adopt to please a censorious world. He was outspoken, and one who was never ashamed of his friends, whatever their position might be. Although he was the proudest of men, his simplicity was such that he believed his joie de vivre would pass unnoticed, and that he might sometimes be allowed to live as a man and not as a Maharajah.
Queen Victoria displayed the most kindly interest in our doings. One day I was invited to take the children to Windsor Castle. I dressed them in their national costume, which pleased Her Majesty exceedingly. After a few minutes’ conversation the Queen said to me: “Do you remember this pendant, Maharani?”
I looked and saw that she was wearing the jewel which we had had the honour of presenting to Her Majesty. I felt very touched at the thought of her wearing our gift, and told Her Majesty so.
When we were saying good-bye the Queen graciously said: “You must let the children have some strawberries and fruit which I have had prepared in another room.” The children were not shy, and I never saw strawberries disappear so fast. Rajey soon confined his attention to some magnificent hothouse grapes. “Come away,” I said, for I began to dread the result of a prolonged riot in fruit. Both obeyed; but Rajey lifted up two enormous bunches of grapes and carried them off, much to the delight of Her Majesty.
I remember, too, how the late Emperor Frederick admired our little Jit, and taking the boy’s hand in his, said many kind words to him. I also had the great pleasure of seeing the Empress of Russia, then Princess Alex of Hesse, a young girl of sixteen, sitting on the carpet in the corridor playing with some small children and dogs. Her thick plait was hanging down her back, and when she lifted her large dark eyes, I said to myself: “What a lovely face and what sad eyes!” It was indeed good to live in those happy days. What a pleasant picture I have in my memory of that afternoon of sunshine, friendly faces, and the Queen and Princess Beatrice waving us farewell!