5th.—I took leave of my dear Colonel Gardner, and quitted him with a heavy heart, for I saw how feeble his health had become, how necessary quiet and attention were for him, and I knew that, left to the care of natives, his comfort would be little considered.
After my departure, I heard he endured much annoyance from domestic concerns, and that it was too much for his feeble health. He suffered greatly from asthma and violent headaches, and had only recently recovered from an attack of paralysis. I was strongly tempted to return to Khāsgunge when I heard of his illness, but was deterred from a feeling of delicacy: an adopted child has a right to a portion of the inheritance, and my presence might have caused the ladies of the zenāna to imagine a sinister motive influenced me.
A gentleman who was with him afterwards told me,—“During his last illness, Colonel Gardner often spoke of you in terms of the greatest affection, and expressed many times his wish for your presence; I did not write to tell you so, because the hot winds were blowing, and the distance some five or six hundred miles.”
Had he only written to me, I would have gone dāk to Khāsgunge immediately; what would the annoyance of hot winds or the distance have been, in comparison with the satisfaction of gratifying the wish of my departing friend? I had lived for weeks in his house, enjoying his society, admiring his dignified and noble bearing, and listening with delight to the relation of his marvellous escapes and extraordinary adventures. His chivalric exploits and undaunted courage deserve a better pen than mine, and he alone was capable of being his own historian.
Colonel Gardner told me, if I ever visited Delhi, he would give me an introduction to the Nawāb Shah Zamānee Begam, the Emperor’s unmarried sister; who would show me all that was worth seeing in the zenāna of the palace of the King of Delhi. This pleased me greatly; so few persons ever have an opportunity of seeing native ladies.
On the 29th of the following July my beloved friend, Colonel Gardner, departed this life at Khāsgunge, aged sixty-five. He was buried, according to his desire, near the tomb of his son Allan. From the time of his death the poor Begam pined and sank daily; just as he said, she complained not, but she took his death to heart; she died one month and two days after his decease. Native ladies have a number of titles; her death, names, and titles were thus announced in the papers:—“On the 31st of August, at her residence at Khāsgunge, Her Highness Furzund Azeza Zubdeh-tool Arrakeen Umdehtool Assateen Nuwab Mah Munzil ool Nissa Begam Dehlmī, relict of the late Colonel William Linnæus Gardner.”
“The sound of the Nakaras and Dumana have ceased[154].”
Colonel Gardner’s Begam was entitled from her rank to the use of the nalkī, the morchhal or fan of peacock’s feathers, and the nakara and dumana, state kettle drums.
The following extract from Colonel Sleeman’s most interesting work will explain the value of these articles of pomp and state:—“The Nalkee is one of the three great insignia which the Mogul Emperors of Delhi conferred upon independent Princes of the first class, and could never be used by any person upon whom, or upon whose ancestors, they had not been so conferred. These were the Nalkee, the Order of the Fish, and the fan of Peacock’s feathers.
“These insignia could be used only by the Prince, who inherited the sovereignty of the one on whom they had been originally conferred.