With all their ‘proudliness’ they are very civil to our people, and told them that the Maharajah had proclaimed he would put to death anybody who maltreated any of the Governor-General’s followers; or, as they expressed it, that ‘he would cut open their stomachs’—very unpleasant, for a mere little incivility. In the afternoon he sent word he was going to show us the city and the famous Sikh temple, where he had consulted the oracle about his present alliance with us. This temple is the only thing the Sikhs are supposed to venerate in a religious way. After all the plans were settled, a grand schism sprang up in our camp about G.’s taking off his shoes, and parties ran very high; however, I believe it was settled that it was impossible he could ever take off his shoes, except for the purpose of going to bed; but then it was equally impossible to rebut Runjeet’s great civility in letting us go to this temple at all, and it was not a question of state. Runjeet takes off his shoes and stoops down, and puts some of the dust on his forehead; it amounts to taking off a hat, and only answers to the same respect that we should wish anybody to pay on entering one of our own churches. So it ended in G.’s drawing a pair of dark stockings on over his boots, and the Sikhs made no objection. F. and I went in white shoes, and pretended to take off our dressing slippers from over them. All they really care about is, that their sacred marble should not be defiled by shoes that have trod the common streets. I am glad we went, and would have given up my shoes, and stockings too, for it.
The temple stands in an immense tank of holy water, and a narrow marble bridge leads to it. There is a broad walk all round the, tank, and it is surrounded by palaces belonging to his principal sirdar, and by other holy buildings.
The temple is of pure gold, really and truly covered completely with gold, most beautifully carved, till within eight feet from the ground, and then there are panels of marble inlaid with flowers and birds—very Solomonish altogether. There are four large folding-doors of gold. We walked round it, and then Runjeet took us in.
There was a large collection of priests, sitting in a circle, with the Grooht, their holy book, in the centre, under a canopy of gold cloth, quite stiff with pearls and small emeralds. The canopy cost 10,000l. Runjeet made G. and F. and me sit down with him on a common velvet carpet, and then one of the priests made a long oration, to the effect that the two great potentates were now brothers and friends, and never could be otherwise. Then G. made a speech to the same effect, and mentioned that the two armies had joined, and they could now conquer the whole world; and Runjeet carried on the compliment, and said that here the oracle had prompted him to make his treaty, and now they saw that he and the English were all one family. In short, you never saw two gentlemen on better terms with themselves and each other. G. presented 16,000 rupees, and they, in return, gave us some very fine shawls. I think mine was scarlet and gold, but the Company’s baboo twisted it up in such haste that I did not see it well.
When all this was over, Runjeet took us up to a sort of balcony he has in one corner of the square, and by that time the bridge, the temple, the minarets, everything was illuminated. Shere Singh’s palace was a sort of volcano of fireworks, and large illuminated fish were swimming about the tank. It was a curious sight, and supposed, by those who know the Sikhs, to be a wonderful proof of confidence on Runjeet’s part.
Yesterday my search for small agate curiosities was rather successful; and the shawls here are not despicable by any means, and very cheap, but I happen to have spent all my money. W. O.’s tent is the great harbour for merchants, but I have found out that I make my little bargains better if I can convey my merchant safely into my own tent.
They all went to a great review this morning, and we had Runjeet’s French officers to dinner in the evening, besides the A.s and C.s; and then Shere Singh, and that darling little Pertâb came again to dinner.
We had little Pertâb to sketch this morning, and he was very pleasant. I asked him to fix his eyes on Captain M., who was acting interpreter. After a time he began to fidget, and his stern old Sikh tutor (you don’t want a Sikh tutor for your boys by chance?—if so, I can safely recommend this man for a remarkably good manner of teaching, besides having a beard half a yard long) reproved him for it. Pertâb declared he could not help it,—he was told to fix his eyes on M., and ‘this is the way he moves his head,’—and then he mimicked M. turning from one to the other and interpreting, in such a funny little way. We gave him a diamond ring, which seemed to delight him.
In the evening we went to a garden half a mile off, where Runjeet is living, and where he was going to give us an evening fête. He had had the house actually built on purpose, and it was beautifully painted in an arabesque fashion, with small pieces of looking-glass let in, in various patterns. The walks of the garden were all lined with those splendid soldiers.
I whispered to Major E., who was sitting on the other side of me, to ask if it would be wrong to step out of the house to look at these gorgeous people, as I had missed all the other opportunities of seeing them; and the old Maharajah did not wait to have the question explained—he delights to show off his soldiers. He jumped up, and took hold of my hand, and ambled out into the garden, and then made all the guards march by, and commented on their dresses, and he looked so fond of the old grey-bearded officers.