9th.—The Bā’ī gave a dinner party at her tents to twenty of the civilians and the military; in the evening there was a nāch, and fireworks were displayed; the ex-Queen appeared much pleased.

There is a very extensive enclosure at Allahabad, called Sultan Khusrū’s garden; tents had been sent there, and pitched under some magnificent tamarind trees, where a large party were assembled at tiffin, when the Bā’ī sent down a Mahratta dinner, to add to the entertainment. In the evening, her two rhinoceroses arrived; they fought one another rather fiercely; it was an amusement for the party. Captain Ross having quitted Allahabad, Mr. Scott took charge of her Highness.

March 1st.—The Brija Bā’ī called to request me to assist them in giving a dinner party to the Station, for which the Bāiza Bā’ī wished to send out invitations; I was happy to aid her. The guests arrived at about seven in the evening; the gentlemen were received by Appa Sāhib, her son-in-law; the ladies were ushered behind the parda, into the presence of her Highness. I have never described the parda which protects the Mahratta ladies from the gaze of the men: In the centre of a long room a large curtain is dropped, not unlike the curtain at a theatre, the space behind which is sacred to the women; and there the gaddī of the Bā’ī was placed, close to the parda; a piece of silver, about six inches square, in which a number of small holes are pierced, is let into the parda; and this is covered on the inside with white muslin. When the Bā’ī wished to see the gentlemen, her guests, she raised the bit of white muslin, and could then see every thing in the next room through the holes in the silver plate—herself unseen. The gentlemen were in the outer room, the ladies in the inner. Appa Sāhib sat close to the parda; the Bā’ī conversed with him, and, through him, with some of the gentlemen present, whom she could see perfectly well.

Dancing girls sang and nāched before the gentlemen until dinner was announced. Many ladies were behind the parda with the Bāiza Bā’ī, and she asked me to interpret for those who could not speak Urdu. I was suffering from severe rheumatic pain in my face; her Highness perceiving it, took from a small gold box a lump of opium, and desired me to eat it, saying, she took as much herself every day. I requested a smaller portion; she broke off about one-third of the lump, which I put into my mouth, and as it dissolved the pain vanished; I became very happy, interpreted for the ladies, felt no fatigue, and talked incessantly. Returning home, being obliged to go across the country for a mile in a palanquin, to reach the carriage, the dust which rolled up most thickly half choked me; nevertheless, I felt perfectly happy, nothing could discompose me; but the next morning I was obliged to call in medical advice, on account of the severe pain in my head, from the effect of the opium.

The table for dinner was laid in a most magnificent tent, lined with crimson cloth, richly embossed, and lighted with numerous chandeliers. The nāch girls danced in the next apartment, but within sight of the guests; her Highness and her grand-daughter, from behind the parda, looked on. About two hundred native dishes, in silver bowls, were handed round by Brahmans; and it was considered etiquette to take a small portion from each dish. On the conclusion of the repast, the Governor-General’s agent rose, and drank her Highness’s health, bowing to the parda; and Appa Sāhib returned thanks, in the name of the Bā’ī. The dinner and the wines were excellent; the latter admirably cooled. Fireworks were let off, and a salute was fired from the cannon when the guests departed. Her nephew was there in his wedding dress—cloth of gold most elaborately worked. The Bā’ī expressed herself greatly pleased with the party, and invited me to attend the wedding of her nephew the next day, and to join her when she went in state to bathe in the Jumna. I was very glad to see her pleased, and in good spirits.

March 4th.—This being the great day of the wedding, at the invitation of the Bā’ī we took a large party to the camp to see the ceremonies in the cool of the evening. Having made our salām to her Highness, we proceeded with the Gaja Rājā Sāhib to the tents of the bride, which were about half a mile from those of the bridegroom. The ceremony was going on when we entered. The bridegroom, dressed in all his heavy finery, stood amongst the priests, who held a white sheet between him and the bride, who stood on the other side, while they chanted certain prayers. When the prayers were concluded, and a quantity of some sort of small grain had been thrown at the lady, the priest dropped the cloth, and the bridegroom beheld his bride. She was dressed in Mahratta attire, over which was a dopatta of crimson silk, worked in gold stars; this covered her forehead and face entirely, and fell in folds to her feet. Whether the person beneath this covering was man, woman, or child, it was impossible to tell: bound round the forehead, outside this golden veil, was a sihrā, a fillet of golden tissue, from which strings and bands of gold and silver fell over her face. The bridegroom must have taken upon trust, that the woman he wished to marry was the one concealed under these curious wedding garments. It was late at night; we all returned to the Bā’ī’s tent, and the ladies departed, all but Mrs. Colonel W⸺ and myself; the Gaja Rājā having asked us to stay and see the finale of the marriage. The young Princess retired to bathe, after which, having been attired in yellow silk, with a deep gold border, and covered with jewels, she rejoined us, and we set out to walk half a mile to the tents of the bride; this being a part of the ceremony. The Gaja Rājā, her ladies, and attendants, Mrs. W⸺, and myself, walked with her in parda; that is, the canvas walls of tents having been fixed on long poles so as to form an oblong inclosure, a great number of men on the outside took up the poles and moved gently on; while we who were inside, walked in procession over white cloths, spread all the way from the tent of the Bā’ī to that of the bride. It was past 10 P.M. Fireworks were let off, and blue lights thrown up from the outside, which lighting up the procession of beautifully dressed Mahratta ladies, gave a most picturesque effect to the scene. The graceful little Gaja Rājā, with her slight form and brilliant attire, looked like what we picture to ourselves a fairy was in the good old times, when such beings visited the earth. At the head of this procession was a girl carrying a torch; next to her a nāch girl danced and figured about; then a girl in the dress of a soldier, who carried a musket and played all sorts of pranks. Another carried a pole, on which were suspended onions, old shoes, and all sorts of queer extraordinary things to make the people laugh. Arrived at the end of our march, the Gaja Rājā seated herself, and water was poured over her beautiful little feet. We then entered the tent of the bride, where many more ceremonies were performed. During the walk in parda, I looked at Mrs. W⸺, who had accompanied me, and could not help saying, “We flatter ourselves we are well dressed, but in our hideous European ungraceful attire we are a blot in the procession. I feel ashamed when the blue lights bring me out of the shade; we destroy the beauty of the scene.”

I requested permission to raise the veil and view the countenance of the bride. She is young, and, for a Mahratta, handsome. The Bā’ī presented her with a necklace of pure heavy red gold; and told me she was now so poor she was unable to give her pearls and diamonds. New dresses were then presented to all her ladies. We witnessed so many forms and ceremonies, I cannot describe one-fourth of them. That night the bridegroom took his bride to his own tents, but the ceremonies of the wedding continued for many days afterwards. I returned home very much pleased at having witnessed a shādī among the Hindoos, having before seen the same ceremony among the Muhammadans.

The ex-Queen had some tents pitched at that most sacred spot, the Treveni, the junction of the three rivers; and to these tents she came down continually to bathe; her ladies and a large concourse of people were in attendance upon her, and there they performed the rites and ceremonies. The superstitions and the religion of the Hindoos were to me most interesting subjects, and had been so ever since my arrival in the country. Her Highness was acquainted with this, and kindly asked me to visit her in the tents at the junction whenever any remarkable ceremony was to be performed. This delighted me, as it gave me an opportunity of seeing the worship, and conversing on religious subjects with the ladies, as well as with the Brahmans. The favourite attendant, the Brija Bā’ī never failed to call, and invite me to join their party at the time of the celebration of any particular rite. At one of the festivals her Highness invited me to visit her tents at the Treveni. I found the Mahratta ladies assembled there: the tents were pitched close to the margin of the Ganges, and the canvas walls were run out to a considerable distance into the river. Her Highness, in her usual attire, waded into the stream, and shaded by the kanāts from the gaze of men, reached the sacred junction, where she performed her devotions, the water reaching to her waist. After which she waded back again to the tents, changed her attire, performed pooja, and gave magnificent presents to the attendant Brahmans. The Gaja Rājā and all the Mahratta ladies accompanied the ex-Queen to the sacred junction, as they returned dripping from the river, their draperies of silk and gold clung to their figures; and very beautiful was the statue-like effect, as the attire half revealed and half concealed the contour of the figure.

15th.—The hot winds have set in very powerfully; to-day I was sent for by the Bāiza Bā’ī, who is in tents; great sickness is prevalent in the camp, and many are ill of cholera.

22nd.—Sir Charles Metcalfe arrived to reside at Allahabad, on his appointment to be Lieutenant-Governor of Agra. The hot winds are blowing very strongly; therefore, with tattīs, the house is cool and pleasant; while, out of doors, the heat is excessive. Her Highness, having been unable to procure a house, still remains encamped; the heat under canvas must be dreadful.