On taking leave his Majesty very cordially shook me by the hand, and the Queen embraced me with warmth. Both appeared, and expressed themselves, highly gratified with the visit of an English lady who could explain herself in their language without embarrassment, or the assistance of an interpreter, and who was the more interesting to them from the circumstance of being the wife of a Syaad; the Queen indeed was particular in reminding me that 'the Syaads were in a religious point of view, the nobles of the Mussulmauns, and reverenced as such far more than those titled characters who receive their distinction from their fellow-mortals'.
I was grieved to be obliged to accept the Queen's parting present of an embroidered scarf, because I knew her means were exceedingly limited compared with the demands upon her bounty; but I could not refuse that which was intended to do me honour at the risk of wounding those feelings I so greatly respected. A small ring, of trifling value, was then placed by the Queen on my finger, as she remarked, 'to remind me of the giver.'
The King's countenance, dignified by age, possesses traces of extreme beauty; he is much fairer than Asiatics usually are; his features are still fine, his hair silvery white; intelligence beams upon his brow, his conversation gentle and refined, and his condescending manners hardly to be surpassed by the most refined gentleman of Europe. I am told by those who have been long intimate with his habits in private, that he leads a life of strict piety and temperance, equal to that of a durweish[3] of his faith, whom he imitates in expending his income on others without indulging in a single luxury himself.
The Queen's manners are very amiable and condescending; she is reported to be as highly gifted with intellectual endowments as I can affirm she is with genuine politeness.
I was induced to visit the mukhburrah of the great-great-grandfather of the present King of Oude,[4] who, at his death,—which occurred at Delhi, I believe,—was one of the Soobadhaars[5] of the sovereign ruler of India. This nobleman, in his time, had been a staunch adherent to the descendants of Timoor, and had been rewarded for his fidelity by public honours and the private friendship of the King. The monument erected over his remains, is in a costly style of magnificence, and in the best possible condition, standing in the centre of a flower-garden which is enclosed by a stone wall, with a grand gateway of good architecture. The mukhburrah is spacious, and in the usual Mussulmaun style of building mausoleums; viz., a square, with a dome, and is ascended by a flight of broad steps. This building stands about three miles from the city, in a good situation to be seen from the road. I was told that the family of Oude kept readers of the Khoraun in constant attendance at the mukhburrah; and I observed several soldiers, whose duty it was to guard the sacred spot, at the expense of the Oude government.
In explanation of the word Soobadhaar, it may not be uninteresting to remark in this place, that when the government of Hindoostaun flourished under the descendants of Timoor, Soobadhaars were appointed over districts, whose duty, in some respects, bore resemblance to that of a Governor; with this difference, that the soobadhaaries were gifts, not only for the life of the individuals, but to their posterity for ever, under certain restrictions and stipulations which made them tributary to, and retained them as dependants of, the reigning sovereign:—as for instance, a certain annual amount was to be punctually transferred to the treasury at Delhi; the province to be governed by the same laws, and the subjects to be under the same control in each Soobadhaarie as those of the parent sovereignty; the revenue exacted in the very same way,; each Soobadhaar was bound to retain in his employ a given number of soldiers, horse and foot, fully equipped for the field, with perfect liberty to employ them as occasion served in the territory which he governed, whether against refractory subjects, or encroachments from neighbouring provinces; but in any emergency from the Court at Delhi, the forces to be, at all times, in readiness for the Sultaun's service at a moment's notice.
The gift of a Soobadhaarie was originally conferred on men who had distinguished themselves, either in the army, or in civil capacities, as faithful friends and servants of the Sultaun. In the course of time, some of these Soobadhaars, probably from just causes, threw off their strict allegiance to their Sovereign, abandoned the title of Soobadhaar, and adopted that of Nuwaub in its stead, either with or without the consent of the Court of Delhi.
As it is not my intention to give a precise history of the Indian empire, but merely to touch on generalities, I have confined my remarks to a brief explanation of the nature of this office; and will only add, that whilst the Soobadhaars (afterwards the Nuwaubs) of Oude swayed over that beautiful province under these titles, they continued to send their usual nuzzas to the King of Delhi, although no longer considered under his dominion; thus acknowledging his superiority, because inferiors only present nuzzas. But when Ghauzee ood deen Hyder was created King of Oude, he could no longer be considered tributary to the House of Timoor, and the annual ceremony of sending a nuzza, I understood, was discontinued. The first King of Oude issued coins from his new mint almost immediately after his coronation, prior to which period the current money of that province bore the stamp of Delhi.[6]
Shah Nizaam ood deen[7] was one of the many Mussulmaun saints, whose history has interested me much. He is said to have been dead about five hundred years, yet his memory is cherished by the Mussulmauns of the present day with veneration unabated by the lapse of years, thus giving to the world a moral and a religious lesson, 'The great and the ambitious perish, and their glory dieth with them; but the righteous have a name amongst their posterity for ever.'
I was familiar with the character of Nizaam ood deen long prior to my visit at the Court of Delhi, and, as maybe supposed, it was with no common feeling of pleasure I embraced the opportunity of visiting the mausoleum erected over the remains of that righteous man.