About a fortnight after landing in India, just as Frederick was beginning to grow heartily sick of Bombay, he received a letter from Colonel Fitzpatrick reminding him of his promise to spend a few weeks at Baroda, and urging him to come up at once so as to be in time for a big tiger-hunt which was about to take place. Accordingly, on the next day, having telegraphed to the colonel to announce his impending arrival, he started on his journey up country.
CHAPTER VI.
FETTERS DIFFICULT TO SEVER.
Baroda is, without exception, one of the most interesting and picturesque cities in India. It is perched on the lofty, precipitous banks of the River Wishwamitra. Large marble staircases lead down to the water's edge, and above them rise thousands of minarets, bell towers, temples, kiosks, and pagodas half screened here and there by masses of dark green foliage.
Frederick met with a very hospitable reception on his arrival at Colonel Fitzpatrick's comfortable bungalow. He could not help being touched by the heartiness of welcome extended to him, and Florence appeared to him more charming and beautiful than ever.
As in duty bound, the colonel immediately took steps to notify the Guicowar of Frederick's presence in the capital, and a few days afterward received an intimation that his highness would be glad to grant Count von Waldberg the honor of an audience. Accordingly, on the appointed day, Frederick, accompanied by Fitzpatrick, drove to the royal palace, and after traversing numerous halls and gorgeous apartments thronged with courtiers, found himself in the presence of the Guicowar, to whom he was introduced with due form and ceremony.
The first moments of the interview were passed almost in silence. Then the Guicowar, addressing Frederick in English, declared that he was happy to receive the son of so illustrious a soldier and statesman as General von Waldberg, and bade him consider himself at home in his dominions, adding that he would do all that lay in his power to render Frederick's sojourn in Baroda as agreeable as possible. The Guicowar wore a red velvet tunic, over which was spread a profusion of magnificent jewels. His turban was adorned with an aigrette of diamonds, among which sparkled the famous “Star of the South.” He was at the time a man of about thirty-five years of age and of tall and commanding stature. His complexion was tolerably clear, and his strongly marked features at once gave a perfect idea of this singular man, who to extreme gentleness in every-day intercourse united the most atrocious cruelty on many other occasions. The origin of the dynasty of the Guicowars is very interesting. Their name, “Guicowar,” of which they are so extremely proud, signifies in the Mahratta language, “Keeper of Cows,” and they are fond of tracing their descent to a family of “Koumbis,” or peasants.
After a time hookhas, with jeweled amber mouthpieces, were brought in, and both the colonel and Frederick, following the example of the Guicowar, began to smoke in true oriental fashion. Meanwhile a number of pretty girls, covered with trinkets and attired in thin chemises, had stepped into the room. They were bayaderes, or dancing girls, who played, sang, and danced for the entertainment of the Guicowar's guests, moving with all the languid voluptuousness peculiar to the East. These privileged individuals are allowed to come and go as they please in the royal palace, as if to make up for the absence of the ladies secluded in their Zenana. When, at the close of the audience, which had lasted about two hours, Frederick at length took leave of his dusky highness, he was thoroughly enraptured with all he had seen. The Court of the Guicowar is the only one in India which has preserved down to the present time the customs of the middle ages in all their primitive splendor, and during his stay at Baroda, Frederick had numerous opportunities of admiring the extreme luxury and lavish magnificence of ceremonies which are not to be witnessed anywhere else in the world.