A view of 19-century Bombay and its Parsis through the eyes of a Russian poet

In November 1890, when Crown Prince Nicholas II set off from St Petersburg on an epic 290-day, 51,000-kilometre journey to Vladivostok and back via southern Europe and Asia, he was accompanied by Prince Esper Ukhtomsky, a poet and close confidant who was passionate about India.

Ukhtomsky knew more about India than most other Russians. His book Travels in the East of Nicholas II When Cesarewitch, 1890-91 is a document of Nicholas II’s “Grand Tour to the East”, including the assassination attempt on the crown prince in Japan. But it also serves as a peek into 19th-century India through the eyes of an outsider.

After crossing the Suez Canal and Aden, Ukhtomsky and Nicholas II landed in India at Bombay on board the Russian naval cruiser named Pamiat Azova. As they approached the harbour, Ukhtomsky could not contain his excitement.

“India lies before us,” he wrote in his book. “Here holiness and peace appeared in visions unto men contemptuous of pleasure; since their age the people live their self-same life, yearning for the Divinity, for freedom and atonement. Here, where the earthly realm of sorrow borders on the heavens, and when the soul is crushed by unceasing torments, this magic land calls us into a world of wonders, into the realm of the eternal mysteries and of boundless wisdom.”

From the ship, Ukhtomsky could see Prong’s Lighthouse and a “fine chain of islands”. It was the middle of December and a “dark, impenetrable cloud of morning fog” hung over the city. As the ship reached the port, it was politely told to wait for the official landing ceremonies since it had arrived a day later than the colonial authorities anticipated and it was still early morning.

The delay did not bother the Russians. The only concern they had was the city’s weather, which, Ukhtomsky said, touched 25 degrees Celsius in the shade even in winter. “Apart from this, however, the near vicinity of Bombay marks such a step forward in our long journey, that the mind is imperceptibly relieved of a load of thought and doubt: there, beyond the distant blue hills, lies the land of the Mahabharata and Ramayana, the former dominion of the freedom-loving and courageous Marathas, the empire of the Moghuls, crushed by fierce invaders, and the architectural and sculptural relics of an undying antiquity.”

Ukhtomsky was critical of colonialism right from the time he saw the warehouses, workshops and small buildings by the port as well as the Afghan Church. “In contrast to this scenery, on the right the hilly islands become more and more picturesque,” he wrote. “It is not surprising that Hindus from days of yore felt the attraction of these inimitably beautiful bays and promontories, peopling them with their myths and adorning them with their temples: into this broad clear bay came the frail barks mediaeval mariners and of daring pirates who wove their eyries on the neighbouring heights. The advent of European civilisation, with its enmity or contempt for the ancient civilisation of the land, with its utilitarian views of the world, its steam and gunpowder, has scarcely added to the charm of Bombay.”

Red carpet

The 19th century was a tumultuous period in the relationship between Britain and Russia. There were passing moments of goodwill and cordiality to be sure – as when Nicholas II visited India. But never could the two empires get over their mutual suspicion, despite the familial ties between the royalty of the two empires.

When Nicholas II, a first cousin of George V, reached India, the British made sure to roll out the red carpet. The governor of Bombay, George Harris, boarded the Pamiat Azova to personally welcome him. After that, the Russian crown prince was given a 21-gun salute and then escorted to the governor’s carriage.

A large number of dignitaries, including consuls of European countries, turned up at Apollo Bunder to greet Nicholas II. As did curious locals.

“Though numbers of people had flocked out into the street from early morning, and though no small number of spectators had come from a distance to catch a glimpse of the Russian Grand Duke on his visit to Bombay, yet the crowd is a pattern of order; stillness almost unbroken reigns around, and it is only gradually that a noisy animation makes its appearance,” Ukhtomsky said.

“The Governor’s bodyguard, consisting of turbaned horsemen, under the command of an English officer, is quite in harmony with the native Outriders, managing the four horses which draw the lofty and somewhat old fashioned carriage of the Governor,” he added. “The windows and the balconies along the way, to say nothing of the sidewalks, are filled with spectators. Shouts of welcome are heard here and there. The variety of characteristic types of costumes, and of the peculiar native equipages [horse carriages], whence the gloriously robed ladies of rich natives look on at the procession, is so great that, at first, words and colours fail to picture Bombay as it appears on first acquaintance.”

Ukhtomsky was disappointed to find Bombay “too European” on the surface. Nevertheless, the city’s architecture fascinated him, inspiring him to remark that the buildings which looked cold and “unpicturesque” from a distance were actually attractive at a nearer glance.

About one of Bombay’s prominent buildings, the Elphinstone College, he wrote, “Here is a building, in a mediaeval style of architecture – a school for natives of India, erected chiefly at the expense of a rich Parsee gentleman, in memory of Mountstuart Elphinstone, the best of the former governors of Bombay.”

The Russian aristocrat seemed impressed by Malabar Hill, a “favourite retreat for the rich citizens of Bombay”, which he said felt more like a suburb than a part of the city. He was also awed by the governor’s house, the place where the Russian delegation stayed, calling it “undoubtedly one of the most important centres of government on the face of the earth”.

After the first night at the governor’s house, he wrote: “How strange it feels to wake up in a real Indian bungalow, one of those typical buildings in which the English live here! The series of lofty and spacious rooms is well ventilated by the windows and doors which open on to the terrace outside. Below it, one hears the dull, measured roll of the sea breaking on the rocks on the shore. Through the light mosquito-net one can see the native servant as he carefully places on a chair at the bedside a tray with the ‘chota hazri,’ the early breakfast affected by Europeans in this country, and consisting of strong tea, biscuits and fruit.”

Fire worshippers

The Russians went to see the Elephanta Caves on their first full day in Bombay and were floored by its sculptures.

“The most striking among them is the Trimurti (a combination of Brahma, Vishnu and Rudra-Siva) in a separate three-faced statue,” Ukhtomsky wrote. “The central face is calm and passionless, the one to the right of it is grim and threatening, while the one to our right wears a joyous expression. The dimensions alone of these faces (almost without bodies, and with a peculiar arrangement of the hair) are enough to produce a strong impression, even on a European, especially when attention is paid to details, to the finish of the several attributes: the lotus, the skull, the cobra.”

The Indophilia that is visible when Ukhtomsky writes about Elephanta can be seen in other passages too. At a state dinner organised by Governor Harris in Nicholas II’s honour, he was disappointed to see how anglicised most of the Indian guests were, with the exception of two Parsis and their wives. Ukhtomsky said the attire of the Parsi women attracted the attention of the Russian visitors. “Black-eyed, pale-faced (with a yellowish tint), with hair parted down the middle, they wore silk shawls (saris) on their heads, golden-tinted folds falling gracefully over their shoulders and waists,” he wrote.

Among the guests at the state dinner was Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy, a wealthy merchant and philanthropist who made his fortune in part by selling opium in China. Ukhtomsky mentioned that Jejeebhoy held the title of baronet and had received the title of Star of India from Queen Victoria.

“The part played by the fire-worshippers, or speaking more correctly, the sun-worshippers, in India, is in many respects similar to that played by Jews in Western Europe,” Ukhtomsky wrote. “There are Jews too, on the Bombay coast, of Mesopotamian origin, with their own Rothschilds, the millionaire Sassoons, at their head.”

Ethnic diversity

The British authorities organised another reception where Nicholas II could meet more members of the Indian elite. This time it was at the old residence of the governor, now the Haffkine Institute in Parel.

“Name after name, one stranger than the other, strikes the ear, as one inquires who the non-European guests are,” Ukhtomsky wrote. “The names and titles sound so peculiar that it would be a pity not to mention some of them, e.g., Atmaram Trimbuck Kharka Rai Bahadur, Bujorji Zorabji Shroff, Bahgwandas Narotamdas, Bumonjee Cursetjee Bandupwalla, Damoderdas Tapedas Varajdas, Shwlal Motala, etc. Even a Russian ear, accustomed to the various names of our Asiatic borders, find something strange in all these ‘dasses’ and ‘jees.’”

The majority of the guests at the Parel reception were Parsis, prompting Ukhtomsky to write about them in more detail.

“Side by side with the successes of the English, the importance of the Parsee element kept increasing,” he wrote, describing the community’s rise during the Raj. “They became very skillful shipbuilders, tradesmen, bankers, enterprising merchants, etc. The opium trade with China and the development of the trade with the seaports of the Celestial Empire, their own capacity for adapting themselves to the requirements of the day, their successful attempts, finally, at self-education, soon raised the Parsees to a position of great prosperity, have made them invaluable to the English (even in their campaigns against Afghanistan), and have thus given rise to the exceptional position occupied by the 100,000 sun-worshippers in the empire of her Majesty the Queen-Empress.”

Ukhtomsky noted that wealthy members of the Parsi community made donations to all sorts of charitable institutions “without reference to the creed of those who were to avail themselves of their lavish assistance”. He felt there was a degree of interdependence between the British and the Parsis: without the British, the Parsis would not have thrived so much, and without the community, the British would not quite be what they were on the western coast of India.

He recounted with great annoyance that the Parsis had supported the British, and not the Russians, in the Crimean War. “Calling on the powers of heaven to assist the British troops in their war with the Russians, the Parsees went so far as to appoint a feast-day in memory of the fall of Sevastopol. Now, of course, more than a quarter of a century later, such a historical reminiscence can only bear an anecdotal character, but as a fact, it is significant. In the dim chronicle of the indifferent and passive relations of the majority of the inhabitants of India to the foreign policy of the British, this exhibition of sympathy and enthusiasm on the part of the Parsee community stands quite alone, and strikes one by the unreasonable ardour of their desire to please and flatter the rulers of the land.”

Still, Ukhtomsky maintained that his country had nothing against the Parsis. He only asked them to remember that many Zoroastrian archaeological sites in the Russian empire were being diligently preserved.

Nicholas II and his entourage would travel across India for over two months. While in Bombay, Ukhtomsky could not help but notice the sheer ethnic and racial diversity in the city that included people from all parts of India in addition to Arabs, Afghans, Persians, Africans, Zanzibaris, Baloch, Maldivians, Burmese, Malays and Chinese.

“Owing to the racial variety and even more on account of the heterogeneity of the populace, Bombay, as yet, has not enough individuality of its own, so that to form a clear conception of it from a superficial survey (as, for example, in Cairo, with its comparative sameness) is perhaps quite impossible,” Ukhtomsky said in his final thoughts, as the Russian entourage left Malabar Hill to take a train out of the city from Victoria Terminus.

Ajay Kamalakaran is a writer, primarily based in Mumbai. His Twitter handle is @ajaykamalakaran.