9th.—I was invited to spend the day at Sultan Khusrū’s garden, to which place a tent had been sent, which was pitched under the fine tamarind trees in a most picturesque place. The garden is a large space of ground, enclosed by a high wall, containing tombs and some very fine trees: the entrance is through a lofty gateway. There are three tombs, and a Baithak-khāna or pavilion. The first and largest monument is that of Sultan Khusrū, in which he is buried; it is a handsome building, and within it is deposited a beautifully illuminated kurān, which the dārogha showed us with great pride. Sultan Khusrū married a daughter of the Wuzeer Azim Khan; he was the son of Jahāngīr, and his mother was the daughter of the Rajpūt Prince Bagwandas of Amber. The next monument is that of the Jodh Bā’ī, but in honour of which lady of that name I know not. Akbar married a Jodh Bā’ī, the daughter of Oodi Singh, of Jodpoor; she was the mother of Jahāngīr, and was buried on the Chand-maree, near Fathīpūr Sicri. Jahāngīr married a Jodh Bā’ī, the daughter of Rae Singh, of Bickaner; she was the mother of Shāhjahān, and her tomb is at Secundra. I forget to whose memory the tomb in Sultan Khusrū’s bāghīcha (garden) was erected.
There is also a third mausoleum, which is not so handsome as the two before mentioned; and the fourth building is a pavilion, in which visitors are allowed to live for a short time during a visit to the garden. Around the tombs are some of the largest tamarind trees I ever beheld: the imlī, as the natives call the tamarind tree, is one of the finest and most beautiful in the world; and they are generally found around or sheltering the tombs of revered or sacred characters. The sherbet prepared from the fruit is excellent; the leaves and fruit are used medicinally. The natives are impressed with a notion that it is dangerous to sleep under the tamarind tree, especially during the night; grass or vegetation of any kind is seldom seen growing in such situations, and never with luxuriance. In times of scarcity the seeds are eaten by the poor; they resemble a common field bean.
Part of Sultan Khusrū’s garden has been cultivated English fashion, that is, for vegetables; seeds are given to the mālīs, (gardeners), and rewards for the first, second, third, and fourth best dālī—that is, basket of vegetables: this is good; the highest prize is fifty rupees, which will be to natives worth the contest. The mālī in charge, kneeling on one knee, presented me with a bouquet of flowers; it was not ungracefully done,—nevertheless, it was bad taste to teach a man an European style of reverence, which in gracefulness is far inferior to the salām of the native.
The sarā’e (caravansary), with its gateways, and the handsome one through which you pass to the garden, are well worth visiting; on the doors of the latter a number of horse-shoes are nailed for good luck, and the variety in shape and size is so great it is absolutely curious.
Just beyond the gates of the sarā’e is a bāolī, a magnificent well, with underground apartments; it is a most remarkable and curious place, and the well is a noble one. The top of the bāolī is level with the ground, from which place water can be drawn up, as also from the underground apartments, which open on the well. You descend by a long broad flight of stone steps to the water’s edge, where there is an arch, ornamented with two large fish, the arms of Oude. Half way down is a pathway of stone that juts out from the wall, and communicates with the third apartment, from which you ascend by small circular staircases to the top. A nervous person might object to the walk along the pathway, it being very narrow, and having no defence—no parapet on the inner side. Parties of natives resort here during the hot winds, and spend the hours in the coolness of the bāolī.
March 15th.—Hired a large bungalow of a very respectable native for eighty rupees a month, garden included, and removed into it.
20th.—My husband received permission from Government to visit England on furlough. A friend quitted us for the up-country in a palanquin placed on a truck, and drawn by a tattoo (a pony), with relays on the road. In former times a palanquin was always carried by bearers,—by the present method a dāk trip is performed much more quickly than it was formerly by relays of natives.
26th.—The other day a native was brought before Mr. R. M⸺, the magistrate of Allahabad, charged with the murder of his wife and daughter. The man confessed to having cut their heads off with his sword; he said he had reason to believe his wife unfaithful, therefore he killed her; and as he supposed the magistrate would murder him for the act, and, as in that case, his young daughter would have no one to marry her, and would be obliged to beg her bread, he killed her also. “But,” said he to Mr. M⸺, “beware how you murder me for having killed my wife. If the women find their husbands are hung for killing them should they be unfaithful, what man will be safe?” I know not the name of the frail fair one who fell a sacrifice to jealousy; doubtless it was soft and pleasing, for although her husband did not attend to the words of the Hindū sage, who says, “Strike not even with a blossom a wife guilty of a hundred faults!” still, in all probability, her parents bestowed an harmonious name upon her, in obedience to the directions of Menu, who suggests that “the names of women should be agreeable, soft, clear, captivating the fancy, auspicious, ending in long vowels, resembling words of benediction.” He also says, “Let mutual fidelity continue to death: this, in few words, may be considered as the supreme law between husband and wife.” The conjugal duties of the Rajpūts are comprehended in that single text.
30th.—When I was formerly at Allahabad the Bāiza Bā’ī was anxious to have leave from Government to erect a most remarkable pillar of stone, that was prostrate in the Fort, near the gateway. This lāt, as before mentioned, is covered with inscriptions in unknown characters, that puzzle the learned. The design of her Highness was not carried into execution, and the lāt was afterwards erected in the Fort at the expense of the Asiatic Society, by Colonel Edward Smith, C.B. We drove to see it in the evening, admired it very much, and thought it erected with great judgment: it is highly ornamental to the Fort. Whilst we were examining the pillar, the buggy horse took fright, became very violent, upset five of the small stone pillars that support the chains that surround the lāt, and broke his harness in divers places. The scene was good.
April 1st.—I fell by accident on the stones in the verandah with considerable force, and fainted away; the blow which I received on my left shoulder was severe; painful and useless my arm hangs by my side,—I have no power to move a finger.