A Rajpoot is of age at eighteen years: but when Jankee Rāo was only fourteen years old, the subjects of the Bā’ī revolted, and placed the boy at the head of the rebellion. Had her Highness remained at Gwalior she would have been murdered; she was forced to fly to Fathīghar, where she put herself under the protection of the Government. Her daughter, the Chimna Rājā Sāhib, a lady celebrated for her beauty, and the wife of Appa Sāhib, a Mahratta nobleman, died of fever, brought on by exposure and anxiety at the time she fled from Gwalior, during the rebellion. It is remarkable, that the ladies in this family take the title of Rājā, to which Sāhib is generally affixed. Appa Sāhib joined the Bāiza Bā’ī, fled with her, and is now in her camp at Fathīghar. The rebellion of her subjects, and her Highness being forced to fly the kingdom, were nothing to the Bā’ī in comparison to the grief occasioned her by the loss of her beloved daughter, the Chimna Rājā.
Her grand-daughter, the Gaja Rājā Sāhib, is also living with her; she has been married two years, but is alone, her husband having deserted her to join the stronger party.
The Bā’ī, although nominally free, is in fact a prisoner; she is extremely anxious to return to Gwalior, but is prevented by the refusal of the Government to allow her to do so; this renders her very unhappy.
8th.—The Brija Bā’ī, one of her ladies, called to invite the lady with whom I am staying to visit the Mahārāj in camp; and gave me an invitation to accompany her.
12th.—When the appointed day arrived, the attendants of her Highness were at our house at 4 A.M., to escort us to the camp.
It is customary for a visitor to leave her shoes outside the parda, when paying her respects to a lady of rank; and this custom is always complied with, unless especial leave to retain the shoes has been voluntarily given to the visitor, which would be considered a mark of great kindness and condescension.
We found her Highness seated on her gaddī of embroidered cloth, with her grand-daughter the Gaja Rājā Sāhib at her side; the ladies, her attendants, were standing around her; and the sword of Scindia was on the gaddī, at her feet. She rose to receive and embrace us, and desired us to be seated near her. The Bāiza Bā’ī is rather an old woman, with grey hair, and en bon point; she must have been pretty in her youth; her smile is remarkably sweet, and her manners particularly pleasing; her hands and feet are very small, and beautifully formed. Her sweet voice reminded me of the proverb, “A pleasant voice brings a snake out of a hole[2].” She was dressed in the plainest red silk, wore no ornaments, with the exception of a pair of small plain bars of gold as bracelets. Being a widow, she is obliged to put jewellery aside, and to submit to numerous privations and hardships. Her countenance is very mild and open; there is a freedom and independence in her air that I greatly admire,—so unlike that of the sleeping, languid, opium-eating Musalmānīs. Her grand-daughter, the Gaja Rājā Sāhib, is very young; her eyes the largest I ever saw; her face is rather flat, and not pretty; her figure is beautiful; she is the least little wee creature you ever beheld. The Mahratta dress consists only of two garments, which are, a tight body to the waist, with sleeves tight to the elbow; a piece of silk, some twenty yards or more in length, which they wind around them as a petticoat, and then, taking a part of it, draw it between the limbs, and fasten it behind, in a manner that gives it the effect both of petticoat and trowsers; this is the whole dress, unless, at times, they substitute angiyas, with short sleeves, for the tight long-sleeved body.
The Gaja Rājā was dressed in purple Benares silk, with a deep gold border woven into it; when she walked she looked very graceful, and the dress very elegant; on her forehead was a mark like a spear-head, in red paint; her hair was plaited, and bound into a knot at the back of her head, and low down; her eyes were edged with surma, and her hands and feet dyed with hinnā. On her feet and ancles were curious silver ornaments; toe-rings of peculiar form; which she sometimes wore of gold, sometimes of red coral. In her nostril was a very large and brilliant n’hut (nose-ring), of diamonds, pearls, and precious stones, of the particular shape worn by the Mahrattas; in her ears were fine brilliants. From her throat to her waist she was covered with strings of magnificent pearls and jewels; her hands and arms were ornamented with the same. She spoke but little,—scarcely five words passed her lips; she appeared timid, but was pleased with the bouquet of beautiful flowers, just fresh from the garden, that the lady who presented me laid at her feet on her entrance. These Mahrattas are a fine bold race; amongst her ladies in waiting I remarked several fine figures, but their faces were generally too flat. Some of them stood in waiting with rich Cashmere shawls thrown over their shoulders; one lady, before the Mahārāj, leaned on her sword, and if the Bā’ī quitted the apartment, the attendant and sword always followed her. The Bā’ī was speaking of horses, and the lady who introduced me said I was as fond of horses as a Mahratta. Her Highness said she should like to see an English lady on horseback; she could not comprehend how they could sit all crooked, all on one side, in the side-saddle. I said I should be too happy to ride into camp any hour her Highness would appoint, and show her the style of horsemanship practised by ladies in England. The Mahārāj expressed a wish that I should be at the Mahratta camp at 4 A.M., in two days’ time. Atr, in a silver filagree vessel, was then presented to the Gaja Rājā; she took a portion up in a little spoon, and put it on our hands. One of the attendants presented us with pān, whilst another sprinkled us most copiously with rose-water: the more you inundate your visitor with rose-water, the greater the compliment.
This being the signal for departure, we rose, made our bahut bahut adab salām, and departed, highly gratified with our visit to her Highness the ex-Queen of Gwalior.
14th.—My relative had a remarkably beautiful Arab, and as I wished to show the Bā’ī a good horse, she being an excellent judge, I requested him to allow me to ride his Arab; and that he might be fresh, I sent him on to await my arrival at the zenāna gates. A number of Mahratta horsemen having been despatched by her Highness to escort me to the camp, I cantered over with them on my little black horse, and found the beautiful Arab impatiently awaiting my arrival.