THE ZENĀNA.
During my visit at Khāsgunge, Mr. James Gardner gave me an introduction to one of the princesses of Delhi, Hyat-ool-Nissa Begam, the aunt of the present, and sister of the late king. Mr. James Gardner is her adopted son. The princess sent one of her ladies to say she should be happy to receive me, and requested me to appoint an hour. The weather was excessively hot, but my time was so much employed I had not an hour to spare but one at noon-day, which was accordingly fixed upon.
I was taken in a palanquin to the door of the court of the building set apart for the women, where some old ladies met and welcomed me. Having quitted the palanquin, they conducted me through such queer places, filled with women of all ages; the narrow passages were dirty and wet,—an odd sort of entrance to the apartment of a princess!
Under a verandah, I found the princess seated on a gaddī, of a green colour. In this verandah she appeared to live and sleep, as her charpāī, covered with a green razā’ī, stood at the further end. She is an aged woman; her features, which are good, must have been handsome in youth; now they only tell of good descent. Green is the mourning worn by the followers of the prophet. The princess was in mourning for her late brother, the Emperor Akbar Shah. Her attire consisted of trowsers of green satin, an angiya, or boddice of green, and a cashmere shawl of the same colour: jewels are laid aside during the days of mātam (mourning). I put off my shoes before I stepped on the white cloth that covered the carpet, and advancing, made my bahut bahut adab salām, and presented a nazr of one gold mohur. The princess received me very kindly, gave me a seat by her side, and we had a long conversation. It is usual to offer a gold mohur on visiting a person of rank; it is the homage paid by the inferior to the superior: on the occasion of a second visit it is still correct to offer a nazr, which may then consist of a bouquet of freshly-gathered flowers. The compliment is graciously received, this homage being the custom of the country.
I had the greatest difficulty in understanding what the Begam said, the loss of her teeth rendering her utterance imperfect. After some time, she called for her women to play and sing for my amusement. I was obliged to appear pleased, but my aching head would willingly have been spared the noise. Her adopted son, the son of the present King Bahadur Shah, came in; he is a remarkably fine, intelligent boy, about ten years old, with a handsome countenance. Several other young princes also appeared, and some of their betrothed wives, little girls of five and six years old: the girls were plain. The princess requested me to spend the day with her; saying that if I would do so, at 4 P.M. I should be introduced to the emperor (they think it an indignity to call him the king), and if I would stay with her until the evening, I should have nāches for my amusement all night. In the mean time she desired some of her ladies to show me the part of the palace occupied by the zenāna. Her young adopted son, the heir-apparent, took my hand, and conducted me over the apartments of the women. The ladies ran out to see the stranger: my guide pointed them all out by name, and I had an opportunity of seeing and conversing with almost all the begams. A plainer set I never beheld: the verandahs, in which they principally appeared to live, and the passages between the apartments, were mal propre. The young prince led me through different parts of the palace, and I was taken into a superb hall: formerly fountains had played there; the ceiling was painted and inlaid with gold. In this hall were three old women on charpāīs (native beds), looking like hags; and over the marble floor, and in the place where fountains once played, was collected a quantity of offensive black water, as if from the drains of the cook rooms. From a verandah, the young prince pointed out a bastion in which the king was then asleep, and I quitted that part of the palace, fearing the talking of those who attended me, and the laughing of the children, might arouse his majesty from his noon-day slumbers.
On my return to the princess I found her sister with her, a good-humoured, portly-looking person. They were both seated on chairs, and gave me one. This was in compliment, lest the native fashion of sitting on the ground might fatigue me. The heat of the sun had given me a violent headache. I declined staying to see the king, and requested permission to depart.
Four trays, filled with fruit and sweetmeats, were presented to me; two necklaces of jasmine flowers, fresh gathered, and strung with tinsel, were put round my neck; and the princess gave me a little embroidered bag filled with spices. It is one of the amusements of the young girls in a zenāna to embroider little bags, which they do very beautifully; these they fill with spices and betel-nut, cut up into small bits; this mixture they take great delight in chewing. An English lady is not more vain of a great cat and kitten with staring eyes, worked by herself in Berlin wool, than the ladies behind the parda of their skill in embroidery. On taking my departure the princess requested me to pay her another visit; it gave her pleasure to speak of her friends at Khāsgunge. She is herself a clever, intelligent woman, and her manners are good. I had satisfied my curiosity, and had seen native life in a palace; as for beauty, in a whole zenāna there may be two or three handsome women, and all the rest remarkably ugly. I looked with wonder at the number of plain faces round me.
When any man wishes to ascend the minarets of the Jāma Masjid, he is obliged to send word to the captain of the gate of the palace, that the ladies may be apprised, and no veiled one may be beheld, even from that distance: the fame of the beauty of the generality of the women may be continued, provided they never show their faces. Those women who are beautiful are very rare, but then their beauty is very great; the rest are generally plain. In England beauty is more commonly diffused amongst all classes. Perhaps the most voluptuously beautiful woman I ever saw was an Asiatic.
I heard that I was much blamed for visiting the princess, it being supposed I went for the sake of presents. Natives do not offer presents unless they think there is something to be gained in return; and that I knew perfectly well. I went there from curiosity, not avarice, offered one gold mohur, and received in return the customary sweetmeats and necklaces of flowers. Look at the poverty, the wretched poverty of these descendants of the emperors! In former times strings of pearls and valuable jewels were placed on the necks of departing visitors. When the Princess Hyat-ool-Nissa Begam in her fallen fortunes put the necklace of freshly-gathered white jasmine flowers over my head, I bowed with as much respect as if she had been the queen of the universe. Others may look upon these people with contempt, I cannot; look at what they are, at what they have been!
The indecision and effeminacy of the character of the emperor is often a subject of surprise. Why should it be so? where is the difference in intellect between a man and a woman brought up in a zenāna? There they both receive the same education, and the result is similar. In Europe men have so greatly the advantage of women from receiving a superior education, and in being made to act for, and depend upon themselves from childhood, that of course the superiority is on the male side; the women are kept under and have not fair play.
One day a gentleman, speaking to me of the extravagance of one of the young princes, mentioned he was always in debt, he could never live upon his allowance. The allowance of the prince was twelve rupees a month!—not more than the wages of a head servant.
With respect to my visit, I felt it hard to be judged by people who were ignorant of my being the friend of the relatives of those whom I visited in the zenāna. People who themselves had, perhaps, no curiosity respecting native life and manners, and who, even if they had the curiosity, might have been utterly unable to gratify it, unless by an introduction which they were probably unable to obtain.
It is a curious fact, that a native lady in a large house always selects the smallest room for her own apartment. A number of ladies from the palace at Delhi were staying in a distant house, to which place a friend having gone to visit them, found them all in the bathing-room, they having selected that as the smallest apartment in which they could crowd together.
I will here insert an extract from the Delhi Gazette of Jan. 13th, 1849.
“On Thursday morning, departed this life, Prince Dara Bukht, heir-apparent to the throne of Delhi, and with him, we have some reason to believe, all the right of the royal house to the succession, such having been guaranteed to him individually, and to no other member of the family. We sincerely trust that such is really the case, and that our Government will now be in a position to adopt steps for making efficient arrangements for the dispersion, with a suitable provision, of the family on the death of the present king. The remains of the deceased prince were interred near Cheeragh Delhi within a few hours of his death. It is a curious fact, that nearly all the native papers have long since omitted the designation of ‘Padshah’ when alluding to the King of Delhi, styling him merely ‘Shah.’”
It was too hot for me to venture round the walls of the palace, and I only paid a flying visit to the Dīwān-i-am, or Hall of Public Audience, and to the Dīwān-i-khāss, or Hall of Private Audience. The latter is built of white marble, beautifully ornamented, and the roof is supported on colonnades of marble pillars. In this hall the peacock throne stands in the centre; it is ascended by steps, and covered with a canopy, with four artificial peacocks at the four corners. Around the exterior of the Dīwān-i-khāss, in the cornice, is the well-known inscription, in letters of gold, upon a ground of white marble: “If there be a paradise on earth, it is this, it is this[26].” The terrace of this building is composed of large slabs of white marble, and the building is crowned at the top with four pavilions or cupolas of the same materials.
The palace is 3000 feet long, 1800 broad, and at one time would have held 10,000 horse: the building it is said cost about £1,000,000 sterling.
The royal baths, a little to the northward of the Dīwān-i-khāss, consist of three very large rooms, surmounted by domes of white marble: adjoining to the baths is a fine mosque.
In the royal gardens is a very large octagonal room, facing the Jumna, called Shah Burj, or the Royal Tower, which is lined with marble. Through the window of this room Prince Mirza Juwaun Bukht made his escape in 1784, when he fled to Lucnow. The Rohillas, who were introduced by Gholaum Cadir Khan, stripped many of the rooms of their marble ornaments and pavements.
It was my intention to have gone round the walls in the cool of the evening, with my relative, but I was so much disgusted with the ill-natured remarks I had heard, I would not enter the place again.
The gardens of Shalimar are worthy of a visit, from which the prospect to the south, towards Delhi, as far as the eye can reach, is covered with the remains of extensive gardens, pavilions, mosques, and burial-places. The environs of this once magnificent city appear now nothing more than a heap of ruins, and the country around is equally desolate and forlorn:—
“The spider hath woven his web in the royal palace of the Cæsars,
The owl standeth sentinel on the watch-towers of Afrasiab!”
Sadi.
“The lonely spider’s thin grey pall
Waves slowly widening o’er the wall;
The bat builds in his harem bower;
And, in the fortress of his power,
The owl usurps the beacon-tower;
The wild dog howls o’er the fountain’s brim,
With baffled thirst, and famine, grim;
For the stream has shrunk from its marble bed,
Where the weeds and the desolate dust are spread.”
Byron.
“Within the city of New Delhi are the remains of many splendid palaces, belonging to the great omrahs of the empire; among the largest are those of Cummer-o’-deen Cawn, vizier to Mahmud Shah; Ali Merdan Khan, the Persian; the Nawab Gazooddeen Cawn; Seftur Jung’s; the garden of Coodseah Begam, mother of Mahmud Shah; the palace of Sadut Khan; and that of Sultan Darah Shekoah.”
“The baths of Sadut Khan are a set of beautiful rooms, paved, and lined with white marble; they consist of five distinct apartments, into which light is admitted by glazed windows at the top of the domes. Sefdur Jung’s Teh Khana consists of a set of apartments, built in a delicate style; one long room, in which is a marble reservoir the whole length, and a smaller one raised and balustraded on each side; both faced throughout with white marble. Adjoining the palace is the fort of Selīm, Selīm-garh; it communicates by a bridge of stone, built over an arm of the river, and is now entirely in ruins.
“The modern city of Shāhjahānabad is rebuilt, and contains many good houses, chiefly of brick; the streets are in general narrow, as is usual in most of the large cities of Asia; but there were formerly two very noble streets, the first leading to the palace gate, through the city, to the Delhi gate, in a direction north and south. This street was very broad and spacious, having handsome houses on each side of the way, and merchants’ shops, well furnished with a variety of the richest articles. Shāhjahān caused an aqueduct of red stone to be made, which conveyed the water the whole length of the street, and thence, by a reservoir underground, into the royal gardens. Remains of this aqueduct are still to be seen, but it is in most parts choked up with rubbish. The second grand street entered in the same manner from the palace to the Lahore gate; it lay east and west, and was equal in all respects to the former; but, in both of them, the inhabitants have spoiled the beauty of their appearance by running a line of houses down the centre; and, in other places, across the street; so that it is with difficulty a person can discover, without narrowly inspecting, their former position.”
“In the neighbourhood of the Cabul gate is a garden, called Tees Huzzari Bagh, in which is the tomb of the Queen Malika Zemani, wife of the Emperor Mahmud Shah. On a rising ground near this garden, whence there is a fine prospect of the city, are two broken columns of brown granite, eight feet high, and two and a half in breadth, on which are inscriptions in ancient characters.”
Near the Ajimere gate is a Madrasa, or college, erected by Gazooddeen Cawn, nephew of Nizam-ool-Mooluk; it is built of red stone, and situated in the centre of a spacious quadrangle, with a fountain, lined with stone. At the upper end of the area is a handsome mosque, built of red stone, and inlaid with white marble. This college is now uninhabited.
Modern Delhi has been built upon two rocky eminences; the one where the Jāma Masjid is situated, named Jujula Pahar; and the other called Bejula Pahar; from both of these you have a commanding view of the rest of the city.