Through every street and road where it was possible for the procession to pass, it went. The white elephant, with its costly silken houdah, beneath which was the Tiger of Cawnpore, towered above all—a conspicuous and central figure.
Soon after mid-day the show returned to the Bhitoor Palace, where preparations had been made on a grand scale for the ceremony of the forehead mark, or the crowning of the Peishwah. In one of the largest halls a stately throne had been erected, and on this Nana Sahib took his seat.
Then there was borne into the hall, on men’s shoulders, a platform covered with cloth of gold. The platform was railed round with golden railings, and in the centre stood a Brahmin bull, covered with jewels and held by gold chains. Following the bull came a large number of priests, carrying small brass idols, and chafing-dishes containing fire. The bull was placed in the centre of the hall, and the chafing-dishes and idols ranged round it. An aged priest stepped up to the head of the animal, and, after making many mystic symbols, he held up a gigantic sword, and cried out in a loud voice—
“The enemies of Brahma shall be smitten to the death.”
Then a gong was sounded, and the whole of the vast assemblage fell upon their knees, and bowing their heads to the ground, worshipped the bull. This ceremony being ended, the chief priest advanced to the Nana, bearing in his hand a dish of pure gold. From this dish he took a small wafer, and while his colleagues muttered a low, monotonous chant, and a hundred tom-toms were beaten, he pressed the wafer on the forehead of the Nana, reciting a Brahmin prayer the while. He next took a chaplet of gold, and placed it on Dundoo’s head.
Then the Palace seemed to be shaken to its foundation as the artillery thundered out its recognition of the new ruler.
The imposing ceremony being ended, and Dundoo having been duly proclaimed Peishwah, the courtiers and servile cringers crowded round the throne to congratulate their chief. Conspicuous amongst these were Azimoolah, Tantia Topee, Teeka Singh, and the brothers of the Nana.
It was a proud moment for Azimoolah. He had played a deep and skilful game, and won. The stakes were large, but not all the newly-acquired power of the Nana Sahib would be sufficient to keep them from the destroying Nemesis who was coming on with gigantic strides.
Until far into the morning the festivities were kept up. There were torch-light processions, there were grand illuminations, and tremendous bursts of fireworks, accompanied by the hoarse roar of artillery. But all things come to an end, and the enthusiasm of Dundoo Pant’s new subjects, like their fireworks, soon burnt itself out, and there was silence, save for the croaking frogs, the shrill piping cicala, and the under-hum of tens of thousands of insects.