A part of the room in which the ex-Queen sits is formed into a domestic temple, where the idols are placed, ornamented with flowers, and worshipped; at night they are lighted up with lamps of oil, and the priests are in attendance.
The Mahratta ladies are very fond of sailing on the river, but they are equally in parda in the boats as on shore.
The next day the Bāiza Bā’ī sent down all her horses in their gay native trappings, for me to look at; also two fine rhinoceroses, which galloped about the grounds in their heavy style, and fought one another; the Bā’ī gave five thousand rupees (£500) for the pair; sweetmeats and oranges pleased the great animals very much.
When Captain Ross quitted, her Highness was placed under the charge of the agent to the Governor-general. I visited the Bā’ī several times, and liked her better than any native lady I ever met with.
A Hindoo widow is subject to great privations; she is not allowed to wear gay attire or jewels, and her mourning is eternal. The Bāiza Bā’ī always slept on the ground, according to the custom for a widow, until she became very ill from rheumatic pains; after which she allowed herself a hard mattress, which was placed on the ground; a charpāī being considered too great a luxury.
She never smoked, which surprised me: having seen the Musalmānī ladies so fond of a hooqŭ, I concluded the Mahratta ladies indulged in the same luxury.
The Mahratta men smoke the hooqŭ as much as all other natives, and the Bā’ī had a recipe for making tobacco cakes, that were highly esteemed in camp. The cakes are, in diameter, about four inches by one inch in thickness; a small quantity added to the prepared tobacco usually smoked in a hooqŭ imparts great fragrance; the ingredients are rather difficult to procure[3].
Speaking of the privations endured by Hindoo widows, her Highness mentioned that all luxurious food was denied them, as well as a bed; and their situation was rendered as painful as possible. She asked me how an English widow fared?
I told her, “An English lady enjoyed all the luxury of her husband’s house during his life; but, on his death, she was turned out of the family mansion, to make room for the heir, and pensioned off; whilst the old horse was allowed the run of the park, and permitted to finish his days amidst the pastures he loved in his prime.” The Hindoo widow, however young, must not marry again.
The fate of women and of melons is alike. “Whether the melon falls on the knife or the knife on the melon, the melon is the sufferer[4].”