Five hundred small brass bells of melodious sound; two hundred larger ditto, in harmony, like hounds well matched, each under each; and one large bell, to crown the whole; one hundred large beads of imitative turquoise; two snow-white tails of the cow of Thibet; some thousands of cowries, many yards of black and of crimson cloth, and a number of very long tassels of red and black worsted. The mochīs embroidered the attire for three days, and it was remarkably handsome. The camel’s clothing being ready, it was put into a box, and the Gaja Rājā having appointed an hour, I rode over, taking it with me, at 4 A.M.
In the court-yard of the zenāna, I found the Bā’ī, and all her ladies; she asked me to canter round the enclosure, the absurdity of sitting on one side a horse being still an amusing novelty.
The Bā’ī’s riding horses were brought out; she was a great equestrian in her youthful days, and, although she has now given up the exercise, delights in horses. The ladies relate, with great pride, that, in one battle, her Highness rode at the head of her troops, with a lance in her hand, and her infant in her arms!
A very vicious, but large and handsome camel was then brought in by the female attendants; he knelt down, and they began putting the gay trappings upon him; his nose was tied to his knee, to prevent his injuring the girls around him, whom he attempted to catch hold of, showing his great white teeth; if once the jaw of a camel closes upon you, he will not relinquish his hold. You would have supposed they were murdering, not dressing the animal; he groaned and shouted as if in great pain, it was piteous to hear the beast; and laughable, when you remembered it was the “dastūr;” they always groan and moan when any load is placed on their backs, however light. When the camel’s toilet was completed, a Mahratta girl jumped on his back, and made him go round the enclosure at a capital rate; the trappings were admired, and the bells pronounced very musical.
They were eager I should mount the camel; I thought of Theodore Hook. “The hostess said, ‘Mr. Hook, will you venture upon an orange?’ ‘No, thank you, Ma’am, I’m afraid I should tumble off.’” C’est beau çà, n’est pas? I declined the elevated position offered me, for the same reason.
The finest young sawārī camels, that have never been debased by carrying any burthen greater than two or three Persian cats, are brought down in droves by the Arabs from Cabul; one man has usually charge of three camels; they travel in single file, the nose of one being attached to the crupper of another by a string passed through the cartilage. They browse on leaves in preference to grazing. It was a picturesque scene, that toilet of the camel, performed by the Mahratta girls, and they enjoyed the tamāshā.
I mentioned my departure was near at hand; the Bā’ī spoke of her beloved Gwalior, and did me the honour to invite me to pay my respects there, should she ever be replaced on the gaddī. She desired I would pay a farewell visit to the camp three days afterwards. After the distribution, as usual, of betel leaves, spices, atr of roses, and the sprinkling with rose-water, I made my salām. Were I an Asiatic, I would be a Mahratta.
The Mahrattas never transact business on an unlucky day; Tuesday is an unfortunate day, and the Bā’ī, who was to have held a durbār, put it off in consequence. She sent for me, it being the day I was to take leave of her; I found her looking grave and thoughtful, and her sweet smile was very sad. She told me the Court of Directors had sent orders that she was to go and live at Benares, or in the Deccan; that she was to quit Fathīghar in one month’s time, and should she refuse to do so, the Governor-General’s agent was to take her to Benares by force, under escort of troops that had been sent to Fathīghar for that purpose. The Bā’ī was greatly distressed, but spoke on the subject with a command of temper, and a dignity that I greatly admired. “What must the Mahāraj do? Cannot this evil fate be averted? Must she go to Benares? Tell us, Mem sāhiba, what must we do?” said one of the ladies in attendance. Thus called upon, I was obliged to give my opinion; it was an awkward thing to tell an exiled Queen she must submit,—“The cudgel of the powerful must be obeyed[12].” I hesitated; the Bā’ī looked at me for an answer. Dropping the eyes of perplexity on the folded hands of despondency, I replied to the Brija, who had asked the question, “Jiska lāthī ooska bhains,”—i.e. “He who has the stick, his is the buffalo[13]!” The effect was electric. The Bāiza Bā’ī and the Gaja Rājā laughed, and I believe the odd and absurd application of the proverb half reconciled the Mahāraj to her fate.
I remained with her Highness some time, talking over the severity of the orders of Government, and took leave of her with great sorrow; the time I had before spent in the camp had been days of amusement and gaiety; the last day, the unlucky Tuesday, was indeed ill-starred, and full of misery to the unfortunate and amiable ex-Queen of Gwalior.