Under a verandah, I found the princess seated on a gaddī, of a green colour. In this verandah she appeared to live and sleep, as her charpāī, covered with a green razā’ī, stood at the further end. She is an aged woman; her features, which are good, must have been handsome in youth; now they only tell of good descent. Green is the mourning worn by the followers of the prophet. The princess was in mourning for her late brother, the Emperor Akbar Shah. Her attire consisted of trowsers of green satin, an angiya, or boddice of green, and a cashmere shawl of the same colour: jewels are laid aside during the days of mātam (mourning). I put off my shoes before I stepped on the white cloth that covered the carpet, and advancing, made my bahut bahut adab salām, and presented a nazr of one gold mohur. The princess received me very kindly, gave me a seat by her side, and we had a long conversation. It is usual to offer a gold mohur on visiting a person of rank; it is the homage paid by the inferior to the superior: on the occasion of a second visit it is still correct to offer a nazr, which may then consist of a bouquet of freshly-gathered flowers. The compliment is graciously received, this homage being the custom of the country.
I had the greatest difficulty in understanding what the Begam said, the loss of her teeth rendering her utterance imperfect. After some time, she called for her women to play and sing for my amusement. I was obliged to appear pleased, but my aching head would willingly have been spared the noise. Her adopted son, the son of the present King Bahadur Shah, came in; he is a remarkably fine, intelligent boy, about ten years old, with a handsome countenance. Several other young princes also appeared, and some of their betrothed wives, little girls of five and six years old: the girls were plain. The princess requested me to spend the day with her; saying that if I would do so, at 4 P.M. I should be introduced to the emperor (they think it an indignity to call him the king), and if I would stay with her until the evening, I should have nāches for my amusement all night. In the mean time she desired some of her ladies to show me the part of the palace occupied by the zenāna. Her young adopted son, the heir-apparent, took my hand, and conducted me over the apartments of the women. The ladies ran out to see the stranger: my guide pointed them all out by name, and I had an opportunity of seeing and conversing with almost all the begams. A plainer set I never beheld: the verandahs, in which they principally appeared to live, and the passages between the apartments, were mal propre. The young prince led me through different parts of the palace, and I was taken into a superb hall: formerly fountains had played there; the ceiling was painted and inlaid with gold. In this hall were three old women on charpāīs (native beds), looking like hags; and over the marble floor, and in the place where fountains once played, was collected a quantity of offensive black water, as if from the drains of the cook rooms. From a verandah, the young prince pointed out a bastion in which the king was then asleep, and I quitted that part of the palace, fearing the talking of those who attended me, and the laughing of the children, might arouse his majesty from his noon-day slumbers.
On my return to the princess I found her sister with her, a good-humoured, portly-looking person. They were both seated on chairs, and gave me one. This was in compliment, lest the native fashion of sitting on the ground might fatigue me. The heat of the sun had given me a violent headache. I declined staying to see the king, and requested permission to depart.
Four trays, filled with fruit and sweetmeats, were presented to me; two necklaces of jasmine flowers, fresh gathered, and strung with tinsel, were put round my neck; and the princess gave me a little embroidered bag filled with spices. It is one of the amusements of the young girls in a zenāna to embroider little bags, which they do very beautifully; these they fill with spices and betel-nut, cut up into small bits; this mixture they take great delight in chewing. An English lady is not more vain of a great cat and kitten with staring eyes, worked by herself in Berlin wool, than the ladies behind the parda of their skill in embroidery. On taking my departure the princess requested me to pay her another visit; it gave her pleasure to speak of her friends at Khāsgunge. She is herself a clever, intelligent woman, and her manners are good. I had satisfied my curiosity, and had seen native life in a palace; as for beauty, in a whole zenāna there may be two or three handsome women, and all the rest remarkably ugly. I looked with wonder at the number of plain faces round me.
When any man wishes to ascend the minarets of the Jāma Masjid, he is obliged to send word to the captain of the gate of the palace, that the ladies may be apprised, and no veiled one may be beheld, even from that distance: the fame of the beauty of the generality of the women may be continued, provided they never show their faces. Those women who are beautiful are very rare, but then their beauty is very great; the rest are generally plain. In England beauty is more commonly diffused amongst all classes. Perhaps the most voluptuously beautiful woman I ever saw was an Asiatic.
I heard that I was much blamed for visiting the princess, it being supposed I went for the sake of presents. Natives do not offer presents unless they think there is something to be gained in return; and that I knew perfectly well. I went there from curiosity, not avarice, offered one gold mohur, and received in return the customary sweetmeats and necklaces of flowers. Look at the poverty, the wretched poverty of these descendants of the emperors! In former times strings of pearls and valuable jewels were placed on the necks of departing visitors. When the Princess Hyat-ool-Nissa Begam in her fallen fortunes put the necklace of freshly-gathered white jasmine flowers over my head, I bowed with as much respect as if she had been the queen of the universe. Others may look upon these people with contempt, I cannot; look at what they are, at what they have been!
The indecision and effeminacy of the character of the emperor is often a subject of surprise. Why should it be so? where is the difference in intellect between a man and a woman brought up in a zenāna? There they both receive the same education, and the result is similar. In Europe men have so greatly the advantage of women from receiving a superior education, and in being made to act for, and depend upon themselves from childhood, that of course the superiority is on the male side; the women are kept under and have not fair play.
One day a gentleman, speaking to me of the extravagance of one of the young princes, mentioned he was always in debt, he could never live upon his allowance. The allowance of the prince was twelve rupees a month!—not more than the wages of a head servant.
With respect to my visit, I felt it hard to be judged by people who were ignorant of my being the friend of the relatives of those whom I visited in the zenāna. People who themselves had, perhaps, no curiosity respecting native life and manners, and who, even if they had the curiosity, might have been utterly unable to gratify it, unless by an introduction which they were probably unable to obtain.