“The angels do not enter the house in which is a dog, nor into that in which are pictures.”
I spent an hour in the zenāna, talking to the old Nawāb; the Begam scarcely ventured to speak. He took me over her flower garden, and made me promise I would never pass Fathīghar without paying him a visit. I told him that when the rains arrived, I should come up in the pinnace, having promised to revisit my relatives, when I should have the pleasure of seeing him and the Begam again. He pressed me to stay and see the ceremonies of the Muharram; I regretted extremely I was obliged to return home, being very anxious to see the mourning festival celebrated in all state.
I happened to wear a ferronnière on my forehead; it amused the Begam very much, because it somewhat resembled the tīka worn by the women of the East.
His first Begam, to whom he was much attached, died: he sent her body to Mekka: it went down at sea. This was reckoned a great misfortune, and an omen of ill luck. Four years afterwards he married the present Begam, who was slave girl to the former.
Between the pauses in conversation the Nawāb would frequently have recourse to his rosary, repeating, I suppose, the ninety-nine names of God, and meditating on the attributes of each. In the Qanoon-e-islam it is mentioned, “To read with the use of a tusbeeh (or rosary) is meritorious; but it is an innovation, since it was not enjoined by the prophet (the blessing and peace of God be with him!) or his companions, but established by certain mushaeks (or divines). They use the chaplet in repeating the kulma (confession of faith) or durood (blessing), one, two, or more hundred times.” On the termination of my visit to the zenāna, the Nawāb re-escorted me to the house of the friend with whom I was staying.
For the first time, I saw to-day a person in a burkā walking in the street; it was impossible to tell whether the figure was male or female; the long swaggering strut made me suppose the former. A pointed crown was on the top of the head, from which ample folds of white linen fell to the feet, entirely concealing the person. Before the eyes were two holes, into which white net was inserted; therefore the person within could see distinctly, while even the colour of the eyes was not discernible from without. The burka’-posh, or person in the burka’, entered the house of the Nawāb. The dress afterwards was sent me to look at, and a copy of it was taken for me by my darzī (tailor). It is often worn by respectable women, who cannot afford to go out in a palanquin, or in a dolī.
The Hakīm was fond of writing notes in English, some of which were curious. When the office of Commissioner was done away with, he thought the gentleman who held the appointment would be forced to quit Fathīghar. The old Hakīm wrote a singular note, in which was this sentence: “As for the man who formed the idea of doing away with your appointment, my dear friend, may God blast him under the earth.” However, as the gentleman remained at Fathīghar, and the Government bestowed an appointment equally good upon him, the Hakīm was satisfied. On my return to Allahabad, he wrote to me, and desired me “not to bury his friendship and affection in oblivion.”
4th.—Paid a farewell visit to her Highness the ex-Queen of Gwalior, in the Mahratta Camp, and quitted Fathīghar dāk for Allahabad. A brain fever would have been the consequence, had I not taken shelter during the day, as the hot winds were blowing, and the weather intensely oppressive; therefore I only travelled by night, and took refuge during the day.
5th.—I stopped during the day at the house of a gentleman at Menhdī Ghāt, which was built by the Nawāb, as well as the sarā’e at Naramhow, which also bears his name. From this place I sent to Kannouj for a quantity of chūrīs, i.e., rings made of sealing-wax, very prettily ornamented with gold foil, beads, and colours: the old woman, who brought a large basketful for sale, put a very expensive set on my arms; they cost four ānās, or three pence! The price of a very pretty set is two ānās. My host appeared surprised; he must have thought me a Pakka Hindostanī. Kannouj is famed for the manufacture of chūrīs. I wore the bracelets for two days, and then broke them off, because the sealing-wax produced a most annoying irritation of the skin.
6th.—I spent the heat of the day with some kind friends at Cawnpore, and the next dāk brought me to Fathīpoor. The day after, I spent the sultry hours in the dāk bungalow, at Shāhzadpoor; and the following morning was very glad to find myself at home, after my long wanderings. The heat at times in the pālkee was perfectly sickening. I had a small thermometer with me, which, at 10 A.M., often stood at 93°; and the sides of the palanquin were hot as the sides of an oven. The fatigue also of travelling so many nights was very great; but it did me no harm.