In the City of Gold and Silver by Kenizé Mourad, Anne Mathai in collaboration with Marie-Louise Naville Page A

troops advance on Awadh. To demonstrate his peaceful intentions, the king has supplies sent to them and has ordered his own troops be disarmed and his artillery dismantled. He intends to show he does not harbour the slightest desire for rebellion, and thus ensure that the East India Company has no excuse to annexe the state. Incapable of duplicity, he refuses to believe they can violate the treaty that has bound them to their faithful ally and most generous donor for the past fifty-five years.
    No matter how many times his friend Rajah Jai Lal reminds him that the governor general has already annexed a dozen states over the last few years with no valid justification, and therefore will have no scruples about seizing Awadh, Wajid Ali Shah will not listen.
    â€œHundreds of taluqdars have pledged their support,” insists the rajah. “They can raise an army of a hundred thousand men and a thousand pieces of artillery! And you know very well that since most of the British army’s sepoys are from Awadh, they will refuse to shoot their brothers! Just one word from you, Your Majesty, and the country is ready to fight to avoid falling prey to the Angrez!”
    To no avail. The king continues to declare he does not want to shed the blood of his people. Maybe he does not really trust the taluqdars’ sincerity either, and Jai Lal cannot blame him entirely for this. The region’s history shows that most of these prominent feudal lords’ first loyalty is to their own interests, and when they find themselves in a position of weakness, they do not hesitate to change sides to rally behind the strongest. But most of all, Wajid Ali Shah is not a man of action, much less a warrior . . . Jai Lal loves him and respects his humane qualities, but he is perfectly aware that his friend lives in a dream world and has always fled confrontation.
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    At 8 o’clock in the morning of February 4th, Colonel Outram, accompanied by two officers, arrives at the royal palace where he is received by unarmed guards. A heavy silence reigns in the deserted living rooms usually full of busy courtiers, and the few servants he does encounter refuse to meet his gaze.
    Surrounded by his ministers, the sovereign is waiting for him in the Council Hall. The resident has barely crossed the threshold when the king rushes over to embrace him warmly, as if welcoming a long-awaited friend rather than a judge who is about to announce his sentence.
    Uncomfortable with this unexpected display of affection, Sir James has some difficulty disengaging himself.
    â€œYour Majesty! Please!”
    And withdrawing to a respectful distance, he declares:
    â€œYour Majesty, I have a message for you from his Excellency the Governor General Lord Dalhousie, representative of the honourable East India Company.”
    In his most official tone, Colonel Outram announces to the king that the Company finds itself obliged to break the treaty of 1801 allying it with the kingdom of Awadh, given the king’s multiple breaches of the obligations set out in the aforesaid treaty. The Company thus demands that the king sign a new treaty consisting of seven articles in which he recognises that he has constantly and publicly betrayed all his commitments and consequently, he accepts that the exclusive administration of all the state of Awadh’s civil and military affairs will henceforth and forever be under the responsibility of the honourable Company. The Company will also freely dispose of all the state’s income in the manner it sees fit. For its part, in its great magnanimity, the Company guarantees the king a pension of one hundred and fifty thousand rupees per annum, as well as the respect of his titles and his authority over his Court.
    Although the resident was prepared for protests, he did not expect the outburst of sobs and moans the verdict provokes. In tears, Wajid Ali Shah reminds him of his own and his ancestors’ loyalty to the East India