THE SONAHLĀ MAHAL.
On entering the building, the first apartment into which you are conducted is the sonahlā mahal, or Chamber of Gold. The sides and ceiling of this vaulted room are in compartments, ornamented with flowers raised in gold, in silver, and enamel; Arabic characters, in gold, are raised upon a blue ground; and the ornaments are of different coloured stones, and enamelled tiles, richly gilt. This chamber is thirty-four feet and a half square; the conjectured height thirty feet. From this a low, vaulted, narrow passage leads to the vault containing the sarcophagus, in which is deposited the remains of the mighty Akbar, covered with a plain marble slab, over which a lamp is kept continually burning. The tomb is seen as represented by Luteef, of Agra, in his sketch of the golden chamber, but not quite so distinctly. The length of the passage is thirty-five paces; the square vault thirty-seven feet and a half. The building is of red granite, until you reach the upper or marble terrace, which is four stories high; in the inside of which is a beautiful court-yard, with an arcade running round it. The pavement is of white and coloured marble, inlaid; at each angle is a white marble turret, and the whole is surrounded by a screen of the most exquisitely carved fretwork in white marble. This terrace is entirely open to the winds and the sun, having no roof. The cenotaph in the centre is of white marble, beautifully carved in flowers; and inscribed in Persian characters are the “Now Nubbey Nām,” the ninety-nine names or attributes of the Deity, from the Kur’ān. “Verily there are ninety-nine names of God; whoever remembers them shall enter into Paradise.” At the head of the monument is inscribed “Allāhu Akbar!” carved in the Persian character; the whole is covered by a wretched chhappar or awning, which the old Muhammadan, who was in attendance, informed me was to protect the “words of God” from the rain; had he not told me this, I should have thought it was intended to protect the tomb from the weather.
A chiraghdānee (the place of a lamp), of white marble, finely carved, stands at the head of the grave. It is a tomb worthy of him who reposes beneath it. The unfortunate Emperors of Delhi! shadows of royalty! well may they look at the tomb of Akbar, and exclaim, “My dead are better than your living[129].”
The lower verandah of this building is immense; you may judge of its capacity, when I mention, it was once used as a barrack, and held a whole regiment of dragoons! Ten of the arches contain tombs; in one of them are two monuments of carved white marble; on the larger of the two is this inscription in Persian,—“This is the grave of Arām Banū.” The tomb of the infant daughter, Asalut Banū, is at the side, which is of plain, undecorated marble; on the top of it is a hollow space, which used to be filled with milk. The followers of the prophet make a difference in the architecture of a tomb for a man or woman: on the slab of a man’s tomb a portion is raised and finished with stone, on which there is often an inscription; the tomb of a woman is hollowed out at the top some few inches in depth, to receive earth, in which flowers are planted; and, for the water to run off, there is a small hole at the end. The first archway on the left contains the grave of Shuker Nisa Begam, another of the daughters of the Emperor; the pavement is inlaid, and the tomb of carved white marble. The second archway contains the tomb of Sultan Banū, in the same style as the former; the screens in front of the arches are of exquisite open-work in white marble.
The daughters of the Emperor were destined to remain single, there being no prince worthy of alliance with the family of Akbar. Jahāngeer married the Jodh Baee, the daughter of Rao Sing of Bikaner; she was the mother of Shāhjahān; her tomb is at Secundra. The natives call the garden Bihishtabād, or the Paradise. The Government keep this noble tomb in repair.
Our tents having been pitched under one of the fine trees in the garden, we partook of a most luxurious tiffin; and the wine, which was iced to perfection, proved very acceptable after the fatigues of the day.
In the cool of the evening we visited the tomb of Miriam Zumanee, one of the wives of Akbar: it is a large building of carved red granite, half a mile from the Emperor’s monument. The sarcophagus is below; the cenotaph, of plain white marble, above in the open air; and the structure is ornamented with turrets of red granite. The whole is rapidly falling to decay.
Driving to Secundra, I observed two of the Kos Minār, which were erected by Akbar, at a distance of every two miles on the road from Agra to Delhi; one of them was in a very perfect state of preservation. As they will be mentioned hereafter, I will close this account of a pleasant day in the East.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
REVELATIONS OF LIFE IN THE ZENĀNA.
“WHOEVER HATH GIVEN HIS HEART TO A BELOVED OBJECT, HATH PUT HIS BEARD INTO THE HANDS OF ANOTHER[130].”
Invitation to Khasgunge—Kutchowra—The Zenāna—A Timoorian Princess—Opium-eating—Native Dishes—The Evening Party—The beautiful Begam—Musalmanī Attire and Ornaments—Timūr-lung—Gold and Silver Beds—Atr of various sorts—Perfume of the Body of the Prophet—Dye for the Hands and Feet—Churees.
1835, Feb.—Khasgunge, the residence of my friend Colonel Gardner, is sixty miles from Agra: he wrote to me expressing a wish that I should visit him, and regretting he was too unwell to meet me at Agra, and conduct me to his house. I was delighted to accept the invitation, particularly at this time, as he informed me a marriage was to take place in his family which might interest me.
His grand-daughter, Susan Gardner, was on the eve of marriage with one of the princes of Delhi, and he wished me to witness the ceremony. I was also invited to pay a visit en route to his son, Mr. James Gardner, who was married to a niece of the reigning emperor, Akbar Shāh.
Was not this delightful? All my dreams in the Turret of Noor-māhāl were to be turned into reality. I was to have an opportunity of viewing life in the zenāna, of seeing the native ladies of the East, women of high rank, in the seclusion of their own apartments, in private life: and although the emperors of Delhi have fallen from their high estate, they and their descendants are nevertheless Timoorians and descendants of Akbar Shāh.
I know of no European lady but myself, with the exception of one, who has ever had an opportunity of becoming intimate with native ladies of rank; and as she had also an invitation to the wedding we agreed to go together.
21st.—We started dāk for Kutchowra, the residence of Mr. James Gardner. This is not that Kutchowra which yearly used to bring such treasure into the Company’s coffers in boat-loads of cotton; but that Kutchowra which stopped and fought Lord Lake, and killed the famous Major Nairn of tiger-killing memory.
We arrived at noon the next day; Mr. James Gardner, whom I had never seen before, received us with much pleasure; his countenance reminded me of his father, whom, in manner, he greatly resembled; he was dressed in handsome native attire, a costume he usually wore.
His grounds contain two houses; the outer one, in which he receives visitors and transacts business, and the second, within four walls, which is sacred to the Begam, and has its entrance guarded night and day.
Mr. James Gardner married Nuwāb Mulka Humanee Begam, the niece of the emperor Akbar Shāh, and daughter of Mirza Sulimān Shekō (the brother of the present emperor), who lives at Agra.
I was taken to the zenāna gates, when three very fine children, the two sons and a daughter of Mr. James Gardner, and the princess, in their gay native dresses of silk and satin, embroidered in gold and silver, ran out to see the new arrival. They were elegant little creatures, and gave promise of being remarkably handsome. I was surprised to see the little girl at liberty, but was informed that girls are not shut up until they are about six years old, until which time they are allowed to run about, play with the boys, and enjoy their freedom. Quitting the palanquins, we walked across the court to the entrance of the zenāna; there we took off our shoes and left them, it being a point of etiquette not to appear in shoes in the presence of a superior; so much so, that Mr. Gardner himself was never guilty of the indecorum of wearing shoes or slippers in the presence of his wife.
The Begam was sitting on a charpāī when we entered the apartment; when Mrs. B⸺ presented me as the friend of Col. Gardner, she shook hands with me, and said, “How do you do, kŭrow?”—this was all the English she could speak. The Begam appeared ill and languid: perhaps the languor was the effect of opium. I had heard so much of Mulka’s wonderful beauty, that I felt disappointed: her long black and shining hair, divided in front, hung down on both sides of her face as low as her bosom, while the rest of her hair, plaited behind, hung down her back in a long tail.
Her dress consisted of silk pājāmas (full trowsers), over which she wore a pair of Indian shawls, and ornaments of jewellery were on her hands and arms. En passant, be it said that ladies in the East never wear petticoats, but full pājāmas: the ayhas, who attend on English ladies in the capacity of ladies’ maids, wear the petticoat; but it is a sign of servitude, and only worn to satisfy the ideal delicacy of English ladies, who dislike to see a female servant without a petticoat. The moment an ayha quits her mistress, and goes into her own house, she pulls off the petticoat as a useless incumbrance, and appears in the native trowsers which she always wears beneath it.
The room in which the Begam received us was the one in which she usually slept; the floor was covered with a white cloth. She was sitting on a charpāī (a native bed); and as the natives never use furniture, of course there was none in the room.
Two or three female attendants stood by her side, fanning her with large feather fans; the others drove away the mosquitoes and flies with chaunrīs made of peacocks’ feathers, which are appendages of royalty.
Some opium was brought to her; she took a great bit of it herself, and put a small bit, the size of half a pea, into the mouth of each of her young children; she eats much opium daily, and gives it to her children until they are about six years old.
Native ladies, when questioned on the subject, say, “It keeps them from taking cold; it is the custom; that is enough, it is the custom.”
If a native lady wish to keep up her reputation for beauty, she should not allow herself to be seen under the effect of opium by daylight.
When the Princess dismissed us from her presence, she invited us to pay her a visit in the evening; Mrs. B⸺, with whom she was very intimate, and to whom she was very partial, said,—“I trust, Mulka Begam, since we are to obey your commands, and pay you a visit this evening, you will put on all your ornaments, and make yourself look beautiful.” The Begam laughed, and said she would do so. On our quitting the apartments, she exclaimed, “Ah! you English ladies, with your white faces, you run about where you will, like dolls, and are so happy!” From which speech I conjecture the princess dislikes the confinement of the four walls. She always spoke urdū (zaban-i-urdū), the court language, which is Hindostanee, intermixed largely with Persian; her manners were very pleasing and very ladylike. So much for the first sight of the Princess Mulka Begam.
The history I heard in the zenāna is as follows: Mulka Begam, the wife of Mirza Selīm, the brother of Akbar Shāh, was on a visit to her sister, the beautiful Queen of Oude; his Majesty fell in love with Mulka, and detained her against her will in the palace; Col. Gardner, indignant at the conduct of the King, brought Mulka from Lucnow, and placed her in his own zenāna, under the care of his own Begam. Marriages are generally dependant on geographical position; the opportunity Mr. James Gardner had of seeing the Princess, added to her extreme beauty, and the romance of the affair, was more than he could withstand; he carried her off from the zenāna. Col. Gardner was extremely angry, and refused to see or communicate with his son; they lived in the jungle for nearly two years. One day, Mr. James Gardner, who had tried every method to induce his father to be reconciled to him in vain, seeing him in a boat, swam after him, and vowed, unless Col. Gardner would take him into the boat, he would perish: Colonel Gardner remained unmoved, until, seeing his son exhausted, and on the point of sinking, paternal feelings triumphed; he put forth his hand, and saved him. “Whatever a man does who is afflicted with love, he is to be excused for it[131].”
“Durd ishk-e kushīdu’um ki m ’ purs
Zahir hijree chushīdu’um ki m ’ purs”
...
“Hum ne dil sunum ko dya
Phir kissee ko kya?”
“I have felt the pain of love, ask not of whom:
I have felt the pangs of absence, ask not of whom:”
...
“I have given my heart to my beloved,
What is that to another?”
Mulka was divorced from Mirza Selīm, and legally married to her present husband. We dined with Mr. Gardner in the outer house; the dinner was of native dishes, which were most excellent. During the repast, two dishes were sent over from the Begam, in compliment to her guests, which I was particularly desired to taste, as the Timoorian ladies pride themselves on their cookery, and on particular occasions will superintend the making of the dishes themselves; these dishes were so very unlike, and so superior to any food I had ever tasted, that I never failed afterwards to partake of any dish when it was brought to me, with the mysterious whisper, “It came from within.” It would be incorrect to say, “The Begam has sent it;” “It came from within,” being perfectly understood by the initiated.
In the evening we returned to the zenāna, and were ushered into a long and large apartment, supported down the centre by eight double pillars of handsome native architecture. The floor of the room was covered with white cloth; several lamps of brass (chirāgh-dāns) were placed upon the ground, each stand holding, perhaps, one hundred small lamps. In the centre of the room a carpet was spread, and upon that the gaddī and pillows for the Begam; the gaddī or throne of the sovereign is a long round pillow, which is placed behind the back for support, and two smaller at the sides for the knees; they are placed upon a small carpet of velvet, or of kimkhwāb (cloth of gold); the whole richly embroidered and superbly fringed with gold. Seats of the same description, but plain and unornamented, were provided for the visitors. A short time after our arrival, Mulka Begam entered the room, looking like a dazzling apparition; you could not see her face, she having drawn her dopatta (veil) over it; her movements were graceful, and the magnificence and elegance of her drapery were surprising to the eye of a European.
She seated herself on the gaddī, and throwing her dopatta partly off her face, conversed with us. How beautiful she looked! how very beautiful! Her animated countenance was constantly varying, and her dark eyes struck fire when a joyous thought crossed her mind. The languor of the morning had disappeared; by lamp-light she was a different creature; and I felt no surprise when I remembered the wondrous tales told by the men of the beauty of Eastern women. Mulka walks very gracefully, and is as straight as an arrow. In Europe, how rarely—how very rarely does a woman walk gracefully! bound up in stays, the body is as stiff as a lobster in its shell; that snake-like, undulating movement,—the poetry of motion—is lost, destroyed by the stiffness of the waist and hip, which impedes the free movement of the limbs. A lady in European attire gives me the idea of a German mannikin; an Asiatic, in her flowing drapery, recalls the statues of antiquity.
I had heard of Mulka’s beauty long ere I beheld her, and she was described to me as the loveliest creature in existence. Her eyes, which are very long, large, and dark, are remarkably fine, and appeared still larger from being darkened on the edges of the eyelids with soorma: natives compare the shape of a fine eye to a mango when cut open. Her forehead is very fine; her nose delicate, and remarkably beautiful,—so finely chiselled; her mouth appeared less beautiful, the lips being rather thin. According to the custom of married women in the East, her teeth were blackened, and the inside of her lips also, with missee (antimony); which has a peculiarly disagreeable appearance to my eye, and may therefore have made me think the lower part of her countenance less perfectly lovely than the upper: in the eye of a native, this application of missee adds to beauty. Her figure is tall and commanding; her hair jet black, very long and straight; her hands and arms are lovely, very lovely.
On the cloth before Mulka were many glass dishes, filled with sweetmeats, which were offered to the company, with tea and coffee, by her attendants. Mulka partook of the coffee; her hooqŭ was at her side, which she smoked now and then; she offered her own hooqŭ to me, as a mark of favour. A superior or equal has her hooqŭ in attendance, whilst the bindah khāna furnishes several for the inferior visitors. Mrs. Valentine Gardner, the wife of Colonel Gardner’s brother, was of the party; she lives with the Begam.
Mulka’s dress was extremely elegant, the most becoming attire imaginable. A Musalmānī wears only four garments:—
Firstly, the angīya: a boddice, which fits tight to the bosom, and has short sleeves; it is made of silk gauze, profusely ornamented.
Secondly, the kurtī: a sort of loose body, without sleeves, which comes down to the hips; it is made of net, crape, or gauze, and highly ornamented.
Thirdly, pājāmas: of gold or crimson brocade, or richly-figured silk; made tight at the waist, but gradually expanding until they reach the feet, much after the fashion of a fan, where they measure eight yards eight inches! a gold border finishes the trowser.
Fourthly, the dopatta: which is the most graceful and purely feminine attire in the world; it is of white transparent gauze, embroidered with gold, and trimmed with gold at the ends, which have also a deep fringe of gold and silver.
The dopatta is so transparent it hides not; it merely veils the form, adding beauty to the beautiful, by its soft and cloud-like folds. The jewellery sparkles beneath it; and the outline of its drapery is continually changing according to the movements or coquetry of the wearer. Such was the attire of the Princess! Her head was covered with pearls and precious stones, most gracefully arranged: from the throat to the waist was a succession of strings of large pearls and precious stones; her arms and hands were covered with armlets, bracelets, and rings innumerable. Her delicate and uncovered feet were each decorated with two large circular anklets composed of gold and precious stones, and golden rings were on her toes. In her nose she wore a n’hut, a large thin gold ring, on which was strung two large pearls, with a ruby between them. A nose-ring is a love token, and is always presented by the bridegroom to the bride. No single woman is allowed to wear one.
In her youth Mulka learned to read and write in Persian, but since her marriage has neglected it. Music is considered disgraceful for a lady of rank, dancing the same—such things are left to nāch women. Mulka made enquiries concerning the education of young ladies in England; and on hearing how many hours were devoted to the piano, singing, and dancing, she expressed her surprise, considering such nāch-like accomplishments degrading.
A native gentleman, describing the points of beauty in a woman, thus expressed himself:
“Barā barā nāk, barā barā ānkh, munh jaisa chānd, khūb bhāri aisa.” A very very large nose, very very large eyes, a face like the moon; very very portly, thus!—stretching out his arms as if they could not at their fullest extent encircle the mass of beauty he was describing!
When a woman’s movements are considered peculiarly graceful, it is often remarked, “She walks like a goose, or a drunken elephant.” “One must behold Laīlī with the eyes of Majnūn[132].”
Mr. Gardner has a fine estate at Kutchowra, with an indigo plantation: his establishment is very large, and completely native. I imagine he is greatly assisted in the management of his estate by the advice of the Begam: with the exception of this, she appears to have little to amuse her. Her women sit round her working, and she gives directions for her dresses. Eating opium and sleeping appear to occupy much of her time. Sometimes her slaves will bring the silver degchas and hāndīs (small caldrons and cooking pots) to her, and, guided by her instructions, will prepare some highly-esteemed dish, over charcoal in a little moveable fire-place, called an angethī.
Her husband, who is very proud of her, often speaks of her being a descendant of Timur the Tartar. Timurlane, as we call him, which is a corruption of Timurlung, or the lame Timur: he was a shepherd, and as he sat on the mountain one day watching his flocks, a fakīr came up, who, striking him on the leg, said, “Arise, and be King of the World.” He did so, but was lame ever after from the blow. The Timoorians are remarkable for their long, large, and fine eyes. English dresses are very unbecoming, both to Europeans and Asiatics. A Musulmanī lady is a horror in an English dress; but an English woman is greatly improved by wearing a native one, the attire itself is so elegant, so feminine, and so graceful.
Mr. Gardner gave me a room within the four walls of the zenāna, which afforded me an excellent opportunity of seeing native life. At first the strong scent of atr of roses was quite overpowering, absolutely disagreeable, until I became reconciled to it by habit.
The Muhammadans, both male and female, are extremely fond of perfumes of every sort and description; and the quantity of atr of roses, atr of jasmine, atr of khas-khās, &c., that the ladies in a zenāna put upon their garments is quite overpowering.
The prophet approved of scents: “Next to women he liked horses, and next to horses perfumes.” Ja’bir-bin-Samurah said, “I performed noon-day prayer with his majesty; after that, he came out of the masjid; and some children came before him, and he rubbed their cheeks in a most kind manner with his blessed hand, one after another. Then his majesty touched my cheek, and I smelt so sweet a smell from it, that you might say he had just taken it out of a pot of perfumes.”
Mulka Begam, and all the females in attendance on her, stained their hands and feet with menhdī. Aa’yeshah said, “Verily, a woman said, ‘O prophet of God! receive my obedience.’ He said, ‘I will not receive your profession, until you alter the palms of your hands; that is, colour them with hinà; for without it one might say they were the hands of tearing animals.’” Aa’yeshah said, “A woman from behind a curtain made a sign of having a letter; and his highness drew away his hand and said, ‘I do not know whether this is the hand of a man or a woman.’ The woman said, ‘It is a woman’s.’ His highness said, ‘Were you a woman, verily you would change the colour of your nails with hinà.’”
To the slave girls I was myself an object of curiosity. They are never allowed to go beyond the four walls, and the arrival of an English lady was a novelty. I could never dress myself but half a dozen were slily peeping in from every corner of the pardas (screens), and their astonishment at the number and shape of the garments worn by a European was unbounded!
Ladies of rank are accustomed to be put to sleep by a slave who relates some fairy tale. To be able to invent and relate some romantic or hobgoblin adventure, in an agreeable manner, is a valuable accomplishment. I have often heard the monotonous tone with which women of this description lulled the Begam to sleep. To invent and relate stories and fables is the only employment of these persons. The male slaves put their masters to sleep in the same fashion.
Native beds (charpāī) are about one foot high from the ground; people of rank have the feet of these couches covered with thick plates of gold or silver, which is handsomely embossed with flowers. A less expensive, but still a very pretty sort, are of Bareilly work, in coloured flowers; some are merely painted red, green, or yellow; and those used by the poor are of plain mango wood. From the highest to the lowest the shape is all the same, the difference is in the material and the workmanship; no posts, no curtains. The seat of the bed is formed of newār (broad cotton tape), skilfully interlaced, drawn up tight as a drum-head, but perfectly elastic. It is the most luxurious couch imaginable, and a person accustomed to the charpāī of India will spend many a restless night ere he can sleep with comfort on an English bed.
A Musalmānī lady will marry an English gentleman, but she will not permit him to be present during the time of meals. Mr. Gardner and Mulka have three children, two boys and a girl; they are remarkably handsome, intelligent children, and appeared as gay and happy as possible. They always wore rich native dresses,—a most becoming style of attire. The name of the eldest is Sulīman, the second is William Linnæus, and the little girl is called Noshaba Begam.
When I retired to my charpāī, my dreams were haunted by visions of the splendour of the Timoorians in former days; the palace at Agra, and the beautiful Begam with whom I had spent the evening.
23rd.—Mr. Gardner proposed a chītā or cheeta hunt: he had a fine hunting leopard; we went out to look for antelopes; the day was very hot, we had no success, and returned very much fagged; Mrs. B⸺ was laid up in consequence with an ague. There was a fine elephant at Kutchowra, a great number of horses, and a few dogs.
The next morning I spent an hour with the Begam, and took leave of her; it is difficult to find her awake, she sleeps so much from opium. If you call on a native lady, and she does not wish to receive a visitor, the attendants always say, “The lady is asleep,—” equivalent to Not at home. Sometimes she employs herself in needle-work, and her attendants sit around, and net kurtīs for her on a sort of embroidery frame.
It may be as well to remark, that the opium given by the Begam to her children was remarkably fine and pure; grown in her own garden, and collected daily from incisions made in the pod of the deep red poppy.
On my departure, the Begam presented me with a beautifully embroidered batū’ā (a small bag) full of spices; it was highly ornamented, and embroidered in gold and silver, interwoven with coloured beads.
She wished me to put on churees, which are bracelets made of sealing-wax, ornamented with beads; they are extremely pretty, but of little value. I consented, and the churees were put on in this manner: a churee, having been cut open with a hot knife, it was heated over a charcoal fire, opened a little—just enough to allow it to pass over the arm; it was then closed, and the two ends were united by being touched with a hot knife. I wore these churees until they broke and dropped off, in memory of my first visit to the zenāna.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
LIFE IN THE ZENĀNA, AND CHĪTĀ HUNTING.
“TEN DURWESH MAY SLEEP UNDER THE SAME BLANKET, BUT TWO KINGS CANNOT EXIST IN ONE KINGDOM[133].”
“A CONTEMPORARY WIFE, THOUGH A HOORI, IS WORSE THAN A SHE DEVIL[134].”
Plurality of Wives—Intrigues and Hatred—Arrival at Khāsgunge—The Four Walls—Arwarī Shooting—The Pūtlī-nāch—The Lynx—Introduction to Colonel Gardner’s Begam—The Morning Star—The Evening Star—The Nawab of Cambay—The beautiful Gardens—The Bara Deri—Rattler—Chītā Hunting—Antelopes—The sulky Chītā—Heera Sing—Chītā Hunting attended by native Ladies.
1835, Feb.—When a woman of rank marries, two female slaves are given with her, who are also the wives of her husband: this is so completely a custom it is never omitted: nevertheless, “The very voice of a rival wife is intolerable[135].”
A number of women are considered to add to a man’s dignity: they add to his misery most decidedly. This custom being more honoured in the breach than the observance, was not put in force at the marriage of Mr. Gardner with Mulka Begam. “The malice of a fellow-wife is notorious[136].” It would only be surprising if such were not the case. “A contemporary wife is intolerable, even in effigy[137].” In native life the greatest misery is produced from a plurality of wives: they, very naturally, hate each other most cordially, and quarrel all day. The children, also, from their cradles are taught to hate the children of the other wives; nevertheless, the following extract proves, that she is considered a wife worthy of praise, who loves the offspring of her husband and another woman:—
“A woman may be married by four qualifications; one, on account of her money; another, on account of the nobility of her pedigree; another, on account of her beauty; the fourth, on account of her faith: therefore, look out for a religious woman; but if you do it from any other consideration, may your hands be rubbed in dirt.”—“The world and all things in it are valuable; but the most valuable thing in the world is a virtuous woman.”—“The best women, that ride on camels, I mean the women of Arabia, are the virtuous of the Koreish; they are the most affectionate to infants, whether they be their own or their husband’s by other women; and they are the most careful of their husband’s property.” The proverb is at variance with the opinion of the prophet, since the former asserts, “A contemporary wife may be good, but her child is bad[138].” As the means of power over their husbands, native women value their children very much, and are miserable if they have none.
A zenāna is a place of intrigue, and those who live within four walls cannot pursue a straight path: how can it be otherwise, where so many conflicting passions are called forth? If a man make a present to one wife, he must make a similar offering to all the rest, to preserve peace and quietness. The wives must have separate houses or apartments; were it not so, they would agree as well as caged tigers. The kur’ān permits a Musalmān to have four wives; the proverb says, “The man is happy who has no she goat[139].” Atàa records, that the prophet had nine wives; and from Safíah, who was the last of them who died, he wished to be divorced; but she said, “Keep me with your wives, and do not divorce me, peradventure I may be of the number of your wives in paradise.”
Some authorities assert, that the prophet had eighteen wives: Atàa only mentions nine. To recompense his warlike followers for allowing them only four wives each, he gives them the mutâh marriage for any period they may choose with the wives of their enemies taken in battle.
In the beginning of Islàm, the followers of the prophet, the shī’as were allowed to marry for a limited time; this temporary marriage was called mutâh. “Verily the prophet prohibited, on the day of the battle of Khaiber, a mutâh marriage, which is for a fixed time, and he forbade the eating of the flesh of the domestic ass.” “His highness permitted, in the year in which he went to Awtàs, mutâh for three days; after which he forbade it.” At length a revelation came down which rendered every connexion of the sort unlawful for the faithful, “excepting the captives which their right hands possess.”
If a woman of high rank and consequence has no heir, this farce is often played. The lady appears to expect one; she is fattened up in the same curious manner in which they fatten their horses: five or six low caste women, who really expect children about the same time, are secreted in the zenāna: when one of them is delivered of a son, the Begam takes it, the farce of an accouchement is acted, and the child is produced as the heir; the real mamma has 500 rupees (£50) given her,—and perhaps a dose of poison to secure her silence.
The father of Mulka Begam, the Huzūr Mirza Sulimān Shekō, the brother of the present Emperor of Delhi, resides at Agra, on a pension from Government; he has children innumerable, all young princes and princesses; there are, it is said, some forty of his children now alive, proud and poor. By Mulka’s first marriage with Mirza Selīm, the second son of the present King of Delhi, she had three children. The first wife of the King of Oude is a sister of Mulka’s, and is reckoned more beautiful than even Mulka herself.
24th.—We drove over to Khāsgunge, Colonel Gardner’s residence, thirteen miles, over roads that were hardly passable. On our arrival, we found our dear friend seated on the steps in front of his house, with many gentlemen, both English and native, around him. I thought I had never seen so dignified and graceful a person; he was dressed in a lubāda of red figured Indian shawl, the rest of the dress was English, but the style of the lubāda was particularly good, and suited to an old man; his half brother, Mr. Valentine Gardner, was with him, also an old nawāb from Cambay.
Colonel Gardner has a fine estate at Khāsgunge; the outer house is dedicated to his friends and English acquaintance; within four high walls is the barā-deri, or pavilion, in the centre of the zenāna gardens, in which his begam resides.
Apartments were given to my husband and me in the outer house, where the English visitors resided. The dinners at first consisted of European, as well as native dishes; but the latter were so excellent, I soon found it impossible to partake of dishes dressed after the English fashion, and as all the guests were of the same opinion, Colonel Gardner had the kindness to banish European dishes from the table.
I must not forget to mention the arwarī fish, the finest and most delicious I ever tasted; the Kālā-naddī is famed for its arwarī, a sort of mullet; the fish delights to bask in the sun, floating on the surface of the water. Colonel Gardner kept two shīkarees (native sportsmen), for the purpose of shooting these fish; one man fired, and the other instantly plunged into the water, and brought out the fish that were killed or stunned. The Musalmāns object to eating fish having no scales; such fish was also forbidden to the Jews.
In the evening, the native mimics came to perform before us; they imitated Europeans very well, and mimicked the gentlemen of the party. A pūtlī-nāch was afterwards brought forward; I was surprised to see the natives, young and old, so eager and fond of this absurdity, until Colonel Gardner said, “The natives are madly fond of this pūtlī-nāch; indeed, it is all the English have left them of their former glory. You see, represented by puppets, Shāhjahān and all his Court and Durbar: one puppet is brought forward, and the manager, whilst it bows to the audience, relates the whole history of the minister whom it represents; giving a true account of his pedigree, riches, influence, &c. At this moment, standing behind my chair, at a salary of four rupees a month, is the lineal descendant of one of the first lords in the Court of Shāhjahān. The managers of the show mix up infinite wit with their relation of events, and sarcasms on the English.”
After this explanation, I could see the reason of the fondness of the old natives for this puppet-show, which before, in my ignorance, I had not comprehended. One by one every puppet is brought forward, and its history recounted. This evening fatigued me a good deal; we sat under the verandah to see the sights, the glare of the torches was painful to my eyes, and the noise made my head ache.
27th.—A lynx (the caracal), the property of Colonel Gardner, a most extraordinary looking beast, killed a goa samp: I was told, the animal catches crows by springing several feet into the air after them as they rise from the ground.
The cheeta, or chītā, (hunting leopard), killed two antelopes: some nāch girls danced and sang in the evening, and thus closed the day.
My husband, who had accompanied me to Khāsgunge, now took leave of Colonel Gardner, and returned to Allahabad, leaving me with our dear friend to witness the Muhammadan marriage ceremonies. My husband quitted us with regret, being obliged to depart on account of the expiration of his leave of absence.
Colonel Gardner married Nawab Matmunzel ool Nissa Begam, of the Cambay family; she resides in the house or pavilion within the four walls, with her relatives, attendants, and slaves. This morning the Begam sent word she would receive visitors in the evening; Colonel Gardner took me over, and introduced me to her as his adopted daughter; she rose and embraced me, putting her cheek to mine on each side the face, after the fashion of the French, and her arms around me: having received her guests, she sat down on her gaddī of purple velvet, embroidered with gold; and we seated ourselves on plain white gaddīs on either side.
The Begam is a very lively little old woman; she was magnificently dressed in pearls, diamonds, and emeralds,—as many as it was possible to put on her little body; she wore a peshwāz, or very short full gown, with a tight body, made of red and gold Benares tissue; this is a dress Of state; pigāmās of silk; and, over all, a dopatta of red and gold Benares tissue, which, as she sat, covered her entirely; and she looked more like a lump of glittering gold and crimson and pearls, than a living woman. A golden hooqŭ, with four nā’echas (snakes) was placed before her on a hooqŭ carpet of raised flowers, curiously cut out in paper. The room was covered with a carpet, over which white cloths were spread after the usual fashion, and the lamps all stood on the ground.
At the other end of the room sat fourteen slave girls, belonging to the Begam, who played on different instruments, whilst one or two of them nāched before us.
The ladies of the family were seated on the Begam’s left hand.
There was Hinga Beebee Sāhiba, the Widow of Allan Gardner, the eldest son of Colonel Gardner; her eldest daughter, Hirmoozee, married Mr. Stuart William Gardner, an officer in the 28th Native Infantry, and son of Admiral Francis Gardner, a relative of Colonel Gardner’s.
Her second daughter, Susan, generally called Shubbeah Begam, was not present; being engaged to be married to a young Prince of Delhi, she was kept in pārda. At her feet were the two daughters of James Gardner by a former marriage; the eldest, Alaida (the Morning Star), about fifteen years old, very fair, with a round pretty face; but her great charm was a remarkably sweet and interesting manner; she of them all was the one whom Colonel Gardner best loved; and indeed she was a sweet girl. Her younger sister (the Evening Star) was darker than Alaida, pretty and lively. They, like the Begam, had Tartar faces, in which the eyes are wide apart; but were both, nevertheless, very pretty and interesting girls.
Two English gentlemen, who were fond of native life, and fascinated with Khasgunge, requested me to mention to Colonel Gardner their wish to become of his family; I did so. Colonel Gardner replied, “Shubbeah is engaged to the Prince:” but, said I, “Do you think she likes him?” “How little you know of the natives!” he replied; “it would be considered the greatest indelicacy for a girl to prefer one man to another, or to have seen the man to whom she is to be united. Tell Mr. ⸺ I am flattered by his wish to be of my family, and would willingly give him my grand-daughter, but the Begam is bent on this grand alliance, as she considers it: I have withheld my consent for years; ‘The house may be filled with the falling of drops[140];’ i.e. continual dripping wears away stones. She has carried the point. I have been happy in my marriage, but I would not advise an European gentleman to marry a native lady. With respect to the proposals of the other gentleman, in a worldly point of view it would be a good match; but I do not like the man; I cannot bestow upon him the Morning Star.”
Bānā Beebee Sāhiba was also there; in her younger days she must have been pretty; her liveliness she still retained.
The guests smoked the hooqŭ, and ate pān; some very delicate pān was prepared for me, of which I partook for the first time, and rather liked it.
At the end of the evening, the Begam gave her guests liberty to depart; pān and atr of roses were presented to us; rose-water was sprinkled over us; we made salām in due form, and returned to the outer house.
The Begam has a guard of honour of forty men, who live at the entrance of the zenāna, and guard the gateway night and day.
I must not forget the old Nawāb of Cambay, the uncle of the Begam; he is quite a character, and a very singular one; he has visited England; he used to dine at the table with us, and would take sherry with the guests. When a lady was at table he would take sherry; if gentlemen only were present, the sherry was discarded for brandy: one day I observed he drank some white spirit, and found it was a strong spirit he himself distilled from different flowers: to my surprise, he used also to play backgammon. Natives have names and titles innumerable, of which his are a good specimen: Fakhr-ul-dawla Moomtaj ul Moolk Nawab Meer Momun Khan Bahadur Delme Delawor Jung.
Colonel Gardner’s name is William Linnæus, so called after his godfather, the great botanist; he is himself an excellent botanist, and pursues the study with much ardour. His garden at Khāsgunge is a very extensive and a most delightful one, full of fine trees and rare plants, beautiful flowers and shrubs, with fruit in abundance and perfection; no expense is spared to embellish the garden: in the centre is a delightful pavilion, under the shade of fine trees. It is one of the pleasures of the Begam and her attendants to spend the day in that garden: guards are then stationed around it, to prevent intrusion. She is herself extremely fond of flowers, and, although not a botanist, after the European fashion, she knows the medicinal qualities of all the Indian plants, and the dyes that can be produced from them; and this knowledge is of daily account in the zenāna.
March 1st.—Took a gallop on a fine English horse, Rattler by name; being accustomed to ride Arabs, this great monster appeared like a frisky mountain under me.
2nd.—Mr. James Gardner invited us to return to his house at Kutchowra, that we might enjoy chītā hunting. We drove over, and in the evening some nāch women exhibited before us for our amusement.
3rd.—In the early morning I mounted a white pony, and we all rode out eight miles to breakfast in a tent which had been sent out over night. After breakfast the party got into the buggies.
We went directly across the country; there were no roads,—over banks, and through ditches, where it appeared a miracle we were not upset. We came to a deep, narrow, stone water-course: my companion said, “If you will get out of the buggy, I will leap the mare over; if I attempt to walk her over, she will be sure to get her foot in, and break her leg.” I got out accordingly; away went the mare; she took a leap at the drain, and carried the buggy over in excellent style. Buggies in India have the remarkable faculty of leaping, being accustomed to such freaks.
We arrived at the estate of a native gentleman, called Petumber, where, on the plain, we saw a herd of about three hundred antelopes, bounding, running, and playing in the sunshine; and a severe sun it was, enough to give one a brain fever, in spite of the leather hood of the buggy. The antelopes are so timid, they will not allow a buggy to come very near the herd; therefore being determined to see the hunt, we got out of the carriage and mounted upon the hackery (cart) on which the cheetā was carried, without even an umbrella, lest it should frighten the deer. The cheetā had a hood over his eyes and a rope round his loins, and two natives, his keepers, were with him.
I sat down by accident on the animal’s tail:—O-o-o-wh, growled the cheetā. I did not wait for another growl, but released his tail instantly. The bullock hackery was driven into the midst of the herd. The bandage was removed from the eyes of the cheetā, and the cord from his body: he dropped from the cart and bounded, with the most surprising bounds, towards an immense black buck, seized him by the throat, flung him on the ground, and held him there. The keepers went up, they cut the buck’s throat, and then they cut off the haunch of the hind leg, and, dipping a wooden spoon into the cavity, offered it full of blood to the cheetā. Nothing but this would have induced the cheetā to quit the throat of the buck. He followed the men to the cart, jumped upon it, drank the blood, and the men then put his bandage over his eyes. The haunch was put into the back of the cart, the reward for the animal when the hunting was over. The herd had passed on; we followed, taking care the wind did not betray our approach. The cheetā was leaning against me in the hackery, and we proceeded very sociably. Another herd of antelopes went bounding near us, the cheetā’s eyes were unbound again, and the rope removed from his loins; a fine buck passed, we expected he would instantly pursue it as usual, but the animal turned sulky, and instead of dropping down from the hackery, he put both his fore-paws on my lap and stood there two or three seconds with his face and whiskers touching my cheek. O-o-o-wh—O-o-o-wh, growled the cheetā!—my heart beat faster, but I sat perfectly quiet, as you may well imagine, whilst I thought to myself, “If he seize my throat, he will never leave it until they cut off my hind quarter, and give him a bowl of blood!” His paws were as light on my lap as those of a cat. How long the few seconds appeared whilst I eyed him askance! Nor was I slightly glad when the cheetā dropped to the ground, where he crouched down sulkily and would not hunt. He was a very fine-tempered animal, but they are all uncertain. I did not like his being quite so near when he was unfastened and sulky.
The next time I took care to get off the cart before the creature was freed from restraint. It is painful to witness a cheetā hunt, the beautiful antelope has so little chance of escape.
During the day, we killed three fine antelopes; the horns of one of them, remarkably large, with five turns on them, I brought to England. We rested under some trees by a well to partake of tiffin, when one of the party observed, “This wood and well are remarkable. Heera Sing, the father of Petumber, was a Thug, and made by Thuggee a large fortune. In this plantation and by the side of this very well his people used to wait for travellers, lure them to the shade and water to refresh themselves, strangle them, and cast their bodies into the well.
“After having amassed a fortune, Heera Sing repented, and gave orders that life should not be taken on his estate. He would not allow the antelopes to be killed; and his son having followed his example, accounts for the large herds of antelopes we have found here: it is an excellent preserve.” We then returned home; I was almost dead with the heat, having been out in such a powerful sun during a drive of about thirty miles.
Mulka Begam sometimes goes out cheetā hunting in a native carriage, drawn by two magnificent bullocks, adorned with crimson housings, and their horns covered with plates of gold.
In this manner the princess can behold the sport, and enter into the amusement, while she is completely secluded from the profane eye of man.
CHAPTER XXXV.
FATHĪPOOR SICRI AND COLONEL GARDNER.
Pilgrimage of Akbar Shāh to Fathīpoor Sicri—Shaikh Selīm Cheestie—The Jodh Baā’ī—Birth of Selim—The Tomb of the Saint—The Gateway—A Tradition—The Temple of Magic—The Zenāna—The Pachīsī Board—The Mint—Akbārābādee Rupees and Gold Mohurs—The Elephant Minār—A Child destroyed by a Wolf—Tomb of the Jodh Bā’ī—Agra built by Akbar—Sketches of remarkable Living Characters in India—Legality of a Marriage between a Christian and one of the Faithful—Colonel Gardner’s Letter—Letter of Colonel Tod—Insult offered by Holkar—Colonel Gardner’s Marriage—Tomb of Colonel Hessing—Cure of Influenza within the Four Walls—Death in a Steam-Bath.
1835, March.—The wedding having been deferred for a short time, I took the opportunity of returning dāk to Agra, having promised Colonel Gardner to be at Khāsgunge again in time to witness the ceremony. All this time my pretty pinnace had been awaiting my arrival. I determined to send her back to Allahabad with the cook-boat, and she sailed immediately. I also sent back the carriage and horses, keeping the buggy, Bokharu, the grey and black horse, to accompany me to Khāsgunge. The dāk trip gave me a severe cough and cold, and on my reaching Agra I was little fit for exertion. However, a party was proposed to visit Fathīpoor Sicri, formerly the residence of Akbar Shāh; my curiosity prevailed, and, notwithstanding my illness, I consented to accompany them.
11th.—Chār vajr, barī fajr, i.e. four o’clock A.M., I was ready to start: the party of four dwindled to two, the others being laid up with influenza, and unable to quit their beds. My relative, Mr. D⸺, drove me over: tents and provisions had been sent on before. In spite of my illness I was delighted with Fathīpoor Sicri. The gateway, with its superb flight of steps, is a beautiful object; it is built on a fine commanding site. The buildings, which are very extensive, are on high ground; and from an immense quarry on the spot, they daily convey quantities of stone to all parts of India. The Fort of Agra is built of this stone.
Before I say more of the place, I must relate an anecdote of the founder.
Akbar Shāh was extremely unhappy and deeply grieved at being childless. Hearing of the fame of a fakīr who lived at Fathīpoor Sicri, and of the wonderful birth of a child to a couple of poor manufacturers of pottery ware, who lived at that place, from the power of the prayers of the holy man: hearing all this, he determined to make a pilgrimage to Fathīpoor; àpropos, the house of the kumhār (potter) and his descendants are still shown to visitors. Akbar commenced his hājī (pilgrimage), but, like all the race of Timur, being rather lame, he found two miles a day (one kos) as much as he could accomplish; therefore, at every day’s resting-place he ordered a kos minār to be erected, which now serve as mile-stones. Two of these minārs I saw between Agra and Secundra on my visit to his tomb, as before-mentioned. On his arrival at Sicri, he consulted the holy man Shāh Selīm Cheestie; and, in pursuance of his advice, the Empress, the Jodh Bā’ī, was brought to live at Fathīpoor. She was the daughter of Oodi Sing of Jodhpoor. Her zenāna, inclosed within four walls, is still to be seen. The prayers of the holy man were heard, and the Jodh Bā’ī presented Akbar with a son, who, in honour of the saint, I suppose, was called Selīm, which name was afterwards almost forgotten in the appellation of Jahāngeer, the Conqueror of the World. In the Fort of Agra there are still the remains of the Selīm Ghar built by Akbar.
The Emperor, charmed at the birth of a son, bestowed lands and showered rupees upon the sagacious fakīr; and the greatest ornament of the place is,