1831. Jan. 1st.—New Year’s Day was celebrated with all due honour at home, the party separating at 4, A.M.; punch à la Romaine and fine ices making men forget the lapse of time. The people here are ice-making mad; I flatter myself I understand the mystery of icefication better than any one in India.

5th.—The view from our verandah is remarkably good; the King of Oude, Ghazee-ood-Deen Hyder, has pitched his tent on the opposite side of the Ganges, and has constructed a bridge of boats across the river. In attendance upon him, they say, there are 2000 elephants, camels, and men in proportionate number; the sides of the river swarm with troops, animals, and tents.

Early on the morning of the 6th, the Governor-general, Lord William Bentinck, arrived at Cawnpore; and her Ladyship received the station. We paid our devoirs; and, in conversation with Lady William on the subject of the zenāna of the King of Oude, I excited her curiosity so much by my account of Tajmahŭl, that I feel convinced she will pay her a visit on her arrival at Lucnow.

7th.—We were invited to breakfast with the Governor-general, with whom the King of Oude was to breakfast in state. We rode to the tents—but let me commence the narrative from the dawn of day. Long before sunrise the guns and drums in the king’s encampment announced that all were in preparation to cross the bridge of boats. About 7 A.M. an enormous train of elephants, camels, and troops crossed over, brilliantly decorated, and proceeded to the camp of the Governor-general. We then cantered off—I on the Bokhara grey, who became very impetuous; but, although surrounded with elephants, camels, galloping horses, and guns firing, I never lost my courage for an instant: nevertheless, I will play no such game again, it is too hazardous.

Lord William met the king half-way, and having been invited to enter the royal howdah, he took his seat on the king’s elephant, and they proceeded together to the breakfast-tent through a street of dragoons, infantry, &c. Lady William, with all her visitors assembled around her, was in the tent awaiting the entrance of the great people; on their arrival, after the usual embracings and forms were over, we proceeded to breakfast.

The whole scene was one of extreme beauty. The magnificent dresses of the natives, the superb elephants, covered with crimson velvet embroidered with gold, the English troops, the happy faces, and the brilliant day, rendered it delightful.

After breakfast Lord William received all visitors who asked for a private audience in a separate tent: my husband made his sālām, and requested permission to visit Lucnow in his Lordship’s train; having received a kind affirmative, we returned home.

8th.—The Governor-general returned the king’s visit, and, crossing the bridge of boats, breakfasted with his majesty on the territories of Oude.

10th.—Lady William gave a ball to the station.

11th.—His lordship was invited to dinner—and dined with the eleventh dragoons, he being their colonel; the next day the Governor-general’s party commenced their march to Lucnow, the king having quitted the day before.

18th.—Having sent on our camels and tents beforehand, we started for Lucnow, intending to drive the whole distance in one day, for which purpose we had laid eight buggy horses on the road, the distance being only fifty-five miles.

Going over the sandy bed of the Ganges, the horse being unable to drag the Stanhope, we mounted an elephant, which took us some miles; being obliged to return the elephant, we got into a native cart drawn by bullocks, and so arrived at the spot where the second horse was laid. But the horses found it almost impossible to get through the sand, the country had been so much cut up from the multitudes that had crossed and recrossed it. In consequence night overtook us in the middle of Oude without a tent or food, and a dark night in prospect; whilst debating where to find shelter, we espied a tent in the distance, which proved to be an empty one belonging to a friend of ours, and there we took up our quarters.

A boy came forward, and saying, “I Christian,” offered to procure a chicken and give us a curry, which we ate off red earthen dishes, with two bits of bamboo as a knife and fork, after the style of chop-sticks. I must not forget to mention, that after our repast, Christian came forward and repeated the Creed and the Lord’s Prayer in Hindostanee; he repeated them like a parrot, but, judging from his answers when questioned, did not appear at all to comprehend his newly-acquired religion.

The sutrāengī, the cotton carpet of the tent, served to defend us from the cold during the night; and the next morning we recommenced our journey, but did not reach Lucnow in time to join the dinner-party at the Residency, to which we were invited to meet Lady William Bentinck.

Our camels, tents, and horses had gone on in advance. On our arrival, I found the camel that carried my trunks had fallen down in crossing part of the river, and both my finery and my journal were soaked in the stream; much damage was done to the wardrobe—and, as for the journal, it was quite mouldy and almost illegible: for the benefit of distressed damsels in a similar predicament, I give a receipt to restore the colour of faded writing, to which I had recourse with good success on this occasion[63].

18th.—The Governor-general breakfasted with the king. The whole party quitted the Residency on elephants most beautifully clothed, and were met half-way by his majesty. The scene was magnificent. The elephants, the camels, the crowds of picturesque natives, the horsemen, and the English troops, formed a tout ensemble that was quite inspiring. The Governor-general got into the king’s howdah, and proceeded to the palace, where breakfast was laid in a fine service of gold and silver. After breakfast we proceeded to a verandah to see various fights, and, having taken our seats, the order was given to commence the tamāshā.

THE ELEPHANT FIGHTS.

The river Goomtee runs in front of the verandah; and on the opposite side were collected a number of elephants paired for the combat. The animals exhibited at first no inclination to fight, although urged on by their respective mahāwats, and we began to imagine this native sport would prove a failure.

At length two elephants, equally matched, were guided by the mahāwats on their backs to some distance from each other, and a female elephant was placed midway. As soon as the elephants turned and saw the female they became angry, and set off at a long swinging trot to meet each other; they attacked with their long tusks, and appeared to be pressing against each other with all their might. One elephant caught the leg of the other in his trunk, and strove to throw his adversary or break his fore-leg. But the most dangerous part appeared to be when they seized one another by their long trunks and interlaced them; then the combat began in good earnest. When they grew very fierce, and there was danger of their injuring themselves, fireworks were thrown in their faces, which alarmed and separated them, and small rockets were also let off for that purpose.

The situation of a mahāwat during the fight is one of danger. The year before, the shock of the combat having thrown the mahāwat to the ground, the elephant opposed to him took a step to one side, and, putting his great foot upon him, quietly crushed the man to death!

Sometimes the elephant will put up his trunk to seize his opponent’s mahāwat and pull him off: skill and activity are requisite to avoid the danger.

The second pair of elephants that were brought in front of the verandah hung back, as if unwilling to fight, for some time; several natives, both on horseback and on foot, touched them up every now and then with long spears to rouse their anger. One of the elephants was a long time ere he could be induced to combat—but, when once excited, he fought bravely; he was a powerful animal, too much for his adversary—for having placed his tusks against the flank of his opponent, he drove him before him step-by-step across the plain to the edge of the river, and fairly rolled him over into the Goomtee. Sometimes a defeated elephant will take to the water, and his adversary will pursue him across the river.

The animals are rendered furious by giving them balls to eat made of the wax of the human ear, which the barbers collect for that purpose!

The hair on the tail of an elephant is reckoned of such importance, that the price of the animal rises or falls according to the quantity and length of the hair on the tail. It is sometimes made into bracelets for English ladies.

A great number of elephants fought in pairs during the morning; but, to have a good view of the combat, one ought to be on the plain on the other side the river, nearer to the combatants; the verandah from which we viewed the scene is rather too distant.

When the elephant fights were over, two rhinoceros were brought before us, and an amusing fight took place between them; they fought like pigs.

The plain was covered by natives in thousands, on foot or on horseback. When the rhinoceros grew fierce, they charged the crowd, and it was beautiful to see the mass of people flying before them.

On the Goomtee, in front of the verandah, a large pleasure-boat belonging to his Majesty was sailing up and down; the boat was made in the shape of a fish, and the golden scales glittered in the sun.

The scene was picturesque, animated, and full of novelty.

In an inclosed court, the walls of which we overlooked, seven or eight fine wild buffaloes were confined: two tigers, one hyena, and three bears were turned loose upon them. I expected to see the tigers spring upon the buffaloes, instead of which they slunk round and round the walls of the court, apparently only anxious to escape. The tigers had not a fair chance, and were sadly injured, being thrown into the air by the buffaloes, and were received again when falling on their enormous horns. The buffaloes attacked them three or four together, advancing in line with their heads to the ground. I observed that when the buffaloes came up to the tiger, who was generally lying on the ground, and presented their horns close to him—if the animal raised his paw and struck one of them, he was tossed in a moment; if he remained quiet, they sometimes retreated without molesting him.

The bears fought well, but in a most laughable style. The scene was a cruel one, and I was glad when it was over. None of the animals, however, were killed.

A fight was to have taken place between a country horse and two tigers, but Lady William Bentinck broke up the party and retired. I was anxious to see the animal, he is such a vicious beast; the other day he killed two tigers that were turned loose upon him.

Combats also took place between rams: the creatures attacked each other fiercely—the jar and the noise were surprising as head met head in full tilt. Well might they be called battering rams!

21st.—We visited Constantia, a beautiful and most singular house, built by General Martine; it would take pages to describe it; the house is constructed to suit the climate; ventilation is carried up through the walls from the ground-floor to the top of the building, and the marble hall is a luxurious apartment. The king having refused to give General Martine the price he asked for Constantia, the latter declared his tomb should be handsomer than any palace in his Majesty’s dominions. He therefore built a vault for himself under the house, and there he lies buried; this has desecrated the place, no Musulmān can inhabit a tomb.

The monument stands in the vault; a bust of the general adorns it. Lights are constantly burned before the tomb. The figures of four sipahīs large as life, with their arms reversed, stand in niches at the sides of the monument. In the centre of the vault, on a long plain slab, is this inscription:

Claude Martine was a native of the city of Lyons. He was originally a common soldier, and fought under Count Lally; he afterwards entered the service of the East India Company, and rose to the rank of a Major-general. He died possessed of enormous wealth, and endowed a noble charity in Calcutta, called La Martinière.

The house is a large and very singular building; a motto fronts the whole, “Labore et Constantiâ,”—hence the name of the house.

Returning from this interesting place, we proceeded on elephants to see the Roomee Durwāza, a gateway built at the entrance of the city, on the Delhi road, by Ussuf-ood-Dowla; it is most beautiful and elegant, a copy of a gate at Constantinople.

Near this spot is the Imām-Bārā, a building almost too delicate and elegant to be described; it contains the tomb of Ussuf-ood-Dowla, the second king of this family. Within the court is a beautiful mosque.

We were delighted with the place and the scene altogether—the time being evening, and the streets crowded with natives.

22nd.—The Governor-general quitted Lucnow at daybreak. On account of some points of etiquette respecting the queen-mother and the king’s favourite wife, Gosseina, Lady William Bentinck did not visit the royal zenāna.

This day we visited a palace called Padshāh-i-Takht, containing the king’s throne and the banquetting-rooms, a delightful place; on quitting it we crossed the river to a new house and garden, built by the present king, called Padshāh Bāgh; of which I must give a description, it being the most luxurious palace I have seen in India.

A large space has been enclosed as a garden within a high wall; it contains three houses and two gateways; the first house is a most delightful one, all you can wish for in such a climate as this; beautiful rooms, with six fountains playing in them, and everything in fairyland style; then such an hummām! or steam baths, containing rooms heated to different temperatures, the heat of each increasing until you arrive at the steam bath itself.

The apartments are built of white variegated marble, and the roofs arched; the rooms were so delightful, we felt every inclination to remain in the hummām, the temperature was so luxurious.

Crossing from this palace to the centre of the garden, we entered another elegant building, supported on white marble pillars, beautifully finished, and adorned and furnished with crimson and gold.

On the left of the garden is a third palace, sacred to the ladies of the zenāna; this house is built of marble, and covered with flower-work of pounded tālk (talc), which has exactly the appearance of silver, giving an eastern style to the place. There are two handsome gateways, a steam-engine to supply the fountains, and a superb tiger in a cage. Every luxury of life may be contained within the walls of this garden; it is at present scarcely finished, but displays great taste and beauty.

On our return we visited the king’s stables, and saw 200 horses, amongst which were some very fine Arabs. His Majesty has 500 horses in his private stables. This day was one of much fatigue; we were on elephants, and exposed to the sun throughout the whole day.

23rd.—Mr. M— invited us to quit our tents, and come into the Residency, giving us the apartments vacated by the Governor-general, which are delightful; and here we are installed with some most agreeable people. First and foremost, our kind host the Resident; Mr. G—, the Resident of Nagpore; Mr. H—, the Resident of Delhi; and Col. Gardner, a most charming old gentleman;—but he will require pages to himself, he is one of many thousand.

But I can write no more—my aide-de-camp, a young Bhopaul Chieftain, is in attendance, to invite me to ride with the Resident. This little native chief is a fine intelligent boy about fourteen years of age; he rides well, on a small horse covered with silver ornaments; and his own dress, with two and sometimes three swords at his waist, is so curious, I should like to have his picture taken. The young chief, with his followers, often attends me on horseback to do my bidding.

The king has a charming park near Lucnow, called Dil-Kushā, or “Heart’s Delight,” filled with game; deer, nil-gā’ī, antelopes, bears, tigers, peacocks, and game of all sorts; the drive through it is most agreeable, the road being kept constantly watered: the house is good, and very convenient. His Majesty visits the place often for shooting.

Just beyond the park is a second park called Beebeepore, formerly the residence of Mr. Cherry, who was murdered at Benares.

24th.—I took a steam bath in true oriental style, which was very delightful; when the pleasing fatigue was over, I joined a party, and proceeded to Daulut Khāna, a palace built by Ussuf-ood-Dowla, but now uninhabited, except by some of the ladies and attendants of the old king’s zenāna.

We went there to see a picture painted in oil by Zoffani, an Italian artist, of a match of cocks, between the Nawāb Ussuf-ood-Dowla and the Resident, Colonel Mordaunt; the whole of the figures are portraits; the picture excellent, but fast falling into decay.

The next place visited was the country-house of one of the richest merchants in India, a place called Govinda Bāgh. It is one of the handsomest houses I have entered, and beautifully furnished, with fine mirrors and lustres; its painted ceilings are remarkably well done, and have a very rich effect; the pillars also in imitation of porphyry look extremely well. The owner, Govind Lall, lives in a mean dirty house, in one of the meanest gulīs (lanes) in the city, that his wealth may not attract robbers or cause jealousy.

25th.—My husband accompanied the Resident and a party to breakfast with the King, and I called on my charming friend, Mrs. F—, in cantonments.

In the evening I accompanied the Resident, in his barouche, drawn by four fine horses, round the grounds of Dil-Kushā. The carriage was attended by an escort on horseback; when it passed the guards, arms were presented, and trumpets blown: and sometimes men with baskets of birds running by the side of the carriage, let them fly whenever they caught his eye, in the hope of some reward being thrown to them for having liberated their captives in compliment to the great man.

To release captive birds propitiates the favour of heaven. A great man will release prisoners from jail when he is anxious for the recovery of a relative from illness, or to procure an heir!

The Jānwar Khāna, a menagerie filled with wild beasts, animals of every sort, and birds in profusion, next attracted my attention. You may talk of Le Jardin des Plantes, but the Jānwar Khāna at Lucnow is far better worth visiting. There was an immense Doomba sheep, with four horns, and such a tail! perfectly enormous.

We paid a visit to the tomb of Saadut Ulee Khan, the king’s grandfather, a beautiful building, near which is the tomb of the begam, both worth seeing.

20th.—I rode with the Resident to his country-house, a short distance from Lucnow, situated in the midst of delightful gardens; there are about twenty of these gardens, filled with fine tanks, wells, and beautiful trees; the Resident contemplates turning them into a park.

28th.—We went over a zenāna garden; the house, dedicated to the ladies, was a good one, situated in a large garden surrounded by a high stone wall. The orthodox height for the four walls of a zenāna garden is, that no man standing on an elephant can overlook them. The building is surrounded with fine trees; and a fountain played before it, in which gold and silver fish were swimming. Near it was an avenue, in which was a swing, the invariable accompaniment of a zenāna garden. The season in which the ladies more particularly delight to swing in the open air is during the rains. I cantered back to the Residency at ten A.M.; the sun was warm, but I thought not of his beams.

After breakfast, I retired to write my journal (knowing how much pleasure it would give her for whom it was kept), although I had that delightful man, Colonel Gardner, to converse with; such a high caste gentleman! how I wish I had his picture! He is married to a native princess, and his grand-daughter is betrothed to one of the princes of Delhi. The begam, his wife, is in Lucnow, but so ill that I have been unable to pay my respects to her. Colonel Gardner has promised me, if we will visit Agra or Delhi next year, which we hope to do, he will give me letters of introduction to some of the ladies of the palace, under which circumstances I shall have the opportunity of seeing Delhi to the greatest advantage.

A very fine corps of men, called Gardner’s Horse, were raised by him; single-handed nothing can resist them, such masters are they of their horses and weapons. I told him, I was anxious to see good native riding, and feats of horsemanship; he said, “An old servant of mine is now in Lucnow, in the king’s service; he is the finest horseman in India. I gave that man 150 rupees a month (about 150l. per annum) for the pleasure of seeing him ride. He could cut his way through thousands. All men who know any thing of native horsemanship, know that man: he has just sent me word he cannot pay his respects to me, for if he were to do so, the king would turn him out of service.” I asked why? He answered, “There is such a jealousy of the English at court: as for the king, he is a poor creature, and can neither like nor dislike. Hakīm Mehndie the minister rules him entirely, and he abhors the English.”

It is a curious circumstance that many of the palaces in Lucnow have fronts in imitation of the palaces in Naples and Rome, &c.; and the real native palace is beyond in an enclosed space.

Being tired with writing, I will go down and talk to Colonel Gardner; should no men be in the room, he will converse respecting the zenāna, but the moment a man enters, it is a forbidden subject.

Lucnow is a very beautiful city; and the view from the roof of the Residency particularly good.

I am fatigued with my ride through the sun; nevertheless, I will go out on an elephant this evening, and view all the old part of the city. I like this barā sāhib life; this living en prince; in a climate so fine as this is at present it is delightful.

The subjects of his Majesty of Oude are by no means desirous of participating in the blessings of British rule. They are a richer, sleeker, and merrier race than the natives in the territories of the Company.

What a delightful companion is this Colonel Gardner! I have had the most interesting conversation with him, which has been interrupted by his being obliged to attend his poor sick wife, as he calls the begam. She is very ill, and her mind is as much affected as her body: he cannot persuade her to call in the aid of medicine. A short time ago, she lost her son, Allan Gardner, aged twenty-nine years: then she lost a daughter and a grandson; afterwards a favourite daughter; and now another young grandson is dangerously ill. These misfortunes have broken her spirit, and she refuses all medical aid. That dear old man has made me weep like a child. I could not bear the recital of his sorrows and sufferings. He said, “You often see me talking and apparently cheerful at the Resident’s table, when my heart is bleeding.”

We have had a long conversation respecting his own life, and I have been trying to persuade him to write it. He says, “If I were to write it, you would scarcely believe it; it would appear fiction.” He is gone to the sick begam. How I long for another tête à tête, in the hope of learning his private history!

He must have been, and is, very handsome; such a high caste man! How he came to marry the begam I know not. What a romance his love must have been! I wish I had his portrait, just as he now appears, so dignified and interesting. His partiality flatters me greatly.