1835, Feb.—Khasgunge, the residence of my friend Colonel Gardner, is sixty miles from Agra: he wrote to me expressing a wish that I should visit him, and regretting he was too unwell to meet me at Agra, and conduct me to his house. I was delighted to accept the invitation, particularly at this time, as he informed me a marriage was to take place in his family which might interest me.

His grand-daughter, Susan Gardner, was on the eve of marriage with one of the princes of Delhi, and he wished me to witness the ceremony. I was also invited to pay a visit en route to his son, Mr. James Gardner, who was married to a niece of the reigning emperor, Akbar Shāh.

Was not this delightful? All my dreams in the Turret of Noor-māhāl were to be turned into reality. I was to have an opportunity of viewing life in the zenāna, of seeing the native ladies of the East, women of high rank, in the seclusion of their own apartments, in private life: and although the emperors of Delhi have fallen from their high estate, they and their descendants are nevertheless Timoorians and descendants of Akbar Shāh.

I know of no European lady but myself, with the exception of one, who has ever had an opportunity of becoming intimate with native ladies of rank; and as she had also an invitation to the wedding we agreed to go together.

21st.—We started dāk for Kutchowra, the residence of Mr. James Gardner. This is not that Kutchowra which yearly used to bring such treasure into the Company’s coffers in boat-loads of cotton; but that Kutchowra which stopped and fought Lord Lake, and killed the famous Major Nairn of tiger-killing memory.

We arrived at noon the next day; Mr. James Gardner, whom I had never seen before, received us with much pleasure; his countenance reminded me of his father, whom, in manner, he greatly resembled; he was dressed in handsome native attire, a costume he usually wore.

His grounds contain two houses; the outer one, in which he receives visitors and transacts business, and the second, within four walls, which is sacred to the Begam, and has its entrance guarded night and day.

Mr. James Gardner married Nuwāb Mulka Humanee Begam, the niece of the emperor Akbar Shāh, and daughter of Mirza Sulimān Shekō (the brother of the present emperor), who lives at Agra.

I was taken to the zenāna gates, when three very fine children, the two sons and a daughter of Mr. James Gardner, and the princess, in their gay native dresses of silk and satin, embroidered in gold and silver, ran out to see the new arrival. They were elegant little creatures, and gave promise of being remarkably handsome. I was surprised to see the little girl at liberty, but was informed that girls are not shut up until they are about six years old, until which time they are allowed to run about, play with the boys, and enjoy their freedom. Quitting the palanquins, we walked across the court to the entrance of the zenāna; there we took off our shoes and left them, it being a point of etiquette not to appear in shoes in the presence of a superior; so much so, that Mr. Gardner himself was never guilty of the indecorum of wearing shoes or slippers in the presence of his wife.

The Begam was sitting on a charpāī when we entered the apartment; when Mrs. B— presented me as the friend of Col. Gardner, she shook hands with me, and said, “How do you do, kŭrow?”—this was all the English she could speak. The Begam appeared ill and languid: perhaps the languor was the effect of opium. I had heard so much of Mulka’s wonderful beauty, that I felt disappointed: her long black and shining hair, divided in front, hung down on both sides of her face as low as her bosom, while the rest of her hair, plaited behind, hung down her back in a long tail.

Her dress consisted of silk pājāmas (full trowsers), over which she wore a pair of Indian shawls, and ornaments of jewellery were on her hands and arms. En passant, be it said that ladies in the East never wear petticoats, but full pājāmas: the ayhas, who attend on English ladies in the capacity of ladies’ maids, wear the petticoat; but it is a sign of servitude, and only worn to satisfy the ideal delicacy of English ladies, who dislike to see a female servant without a petticoat. The moment an ayha quits her mistress, and goes into her own house, she pulls off the petticoat as a useless incumbrance, and appears in the native trowsers which she always wears beneath it.

The room in which the Begam received us was the one in which she usually slept; the floor was covered with a white cloth. She was sitting on a charpāī (a native bed); and as the natives never use furniture, of course there was none in the room.

Two or three female attendants stood by her side, fanning her with large feather fans; the others drove away the mosquitoes and flies with chaunrīs made of peacocks’ feathers, which are appendages of royalty.

Some opium was brought to her; she took a great bit of it herself, and put a small bit, the size of half a pea, into the mouth of each of her young children; she eats much opium daily, and gives it to her children until they are about six years old.

Native ladies, when questioned on the subject, say, “It keeps them from taking cold; it is the custom; that is enough, it is the custom.”

If a native lady wish to keep up her reputation for beauty, she should not allow herself to be seen under the effect of opium by daylight.

When the Princess dismissed us from her presence, she invited us to pay her a visit in the evening; Mrs. B—, with whom she was very intimate, and to whom she was very partial, said,—“I trust, Mulka Begam, since we are to obey your commands, and pay you a visit this evening, you will put on all your ornaments, and make yourself look beautiful.” The Begam laughed, and said she would do so. On our quitting the apartments, she exclaimed, “Ah! you English ladies, with your white faces, you run about where you will, like dolls, and are so happy!” From which speech I conjecture the princess dislikes the confinement of the four walls. She always spoke urdū (zaban-i-urdū), the court language, which is Hindostanee, intermixed largely with Persian; her manners were very pleasing and very ladylike. So much for the first sight of the Princess Mulka Begam.

The history I heard in the zenāna is as follows: Mulka Begam, the wife of Mirza Selīm, the brother of Akbar Shāh, was on a visit to her sister, the beautiful Queen of Oude; his Majesty fell in love with Mulka, and detained her against her will in the palace; Col. Gardner, indignant at the conduct of the King, brought Mulka from Lucnow, and placed her in his own zenāna, under the care of his own Begam. Marriages are generally dependant on geographical position; the opportunity Mr. James Gardner had of seeing the Princess, added to her extreme beauty, and the romance of the affair, was more than he could withstand; he carried her off from the zenāna. Col. Gardner was extremely angry, and refused to see or communicate with his son; they lived in the jungle for nearly two years. One day, Mr. James Gardner, who had tried every method to induce his father to be reconciled to him in vain, seeing him in a boat, swam after him, and vowed, unless Col. Gardner would take him into the boat, he would perish: Colonel Gardner remained unmoved, until, seeing his son exhausted, and on the point of sinking, paternal feelings triumphed; he put forth his hand, and saved him. “Whatever a man does who is afflicted with love, he is to be excused for it[131].”

Mulka was divorced from Mirza Selīm, and legally married to her present husband. We dined with Mr. Gardner in the outer house; the dinner was of native dishes, which were most excellent. During the repast, two dishes were sent over from the Begam, in compliment to her guests, which I was particularly desired to taste, as the Timoorian ladies pride themselves on their cookery, and on particular occasions will superintend the making of the dishes themselves; these dishes were so very unlike, and so superior to any food I had ever tasted, that I never failed afterwards to partake of any dish when it was brought to me, with the mysterious whisper, “It came from within.” It would be incorrect to say, “The Begam has sent it;” “It came from within,” being perfectly understood by the initiated.

In the evening we returned to the zenāna, and were ushered into a long and large apartment, supported down the centre by eight double pillars of handsome native architecture. The floor of the room was covered with white cloth; several lamps of brass (chirāgh-dāns) were placed upon the ground, each stand holding, perhaps, one hundred small lamps. In the centre of the room a carpet was spread, and upon that the gaddī and pillows for the Begam; the gaddī or throne of the sovereign is a long round pillow, which is placed behind the back for support, and two smaller at the sides for the knees; they are placed upon a small carpet of velvet, or of kimkhwāb (cloth of gold); the whole richly embroidered and superbly fringed with gold. Seats of the same description, but plain and unornamented, were provided for the visitors. A short time after our arrival, Mulka Begam entered the room, looking like a dazzling apparition; you could not see her face, she having drawn her dopatta (veil) over it; her movements were graceful, and the magnificence and elegance of her drapery were surprising to the eye of a European.

She seated herself on the gaddī, and throwing her dopatta partly off her face, conversed with us. How beautiful she looked! how very beautiful! Her animated countenance was constantly varying, and her dark eyes struck fire when a joyous thought crossed her mind. The languor of the morning had disappeared; by lamp-light she was a different creature; and I felt no surprise when I remembered the wondrous tales told by the men of the beauty of Eastern women. Mulka walks very gracefully, and is as straight as an arrow. In Europe, how rarely—how very rarely does a woman walk gracefully! bound up in stays, the body is as stiff as a lobster in its shell; that snake-like, undulating movement,—the poetry of motion—is lost, destroyed by the stiffness of the waist and hip, which impedes the free movement of the limbs. A lady in European attire gives me the idea of a German mannikin; an Asiatic, in her flowing drapery, recalls the statues of antiquity.

I had heard of Mulka’s beauty long ere I beheld her, and she was described to me as the loveliest creature in existence. Her eyes, which are very long, large, and dark, are remarkably fine, and appeared still larger from being darkened on the edges of the eyelids with soorma: natives compare the shape of a fine eye to a mango when cut open. Her forehead is very fine; her nose delicate, and remarkably beautiful,—so finely chiselled; her mouth appeared less beautiful, the lips being rather thin. According to the custom of married women in the East, her teeth were blackened, and the inside of her lips also, with missee (antimony); which has a peculiarly disagreeable appearance to my eye, and may therefore have made me think the lower part of her countenance less perfectly lovely than the upper: in the eye of a native, this application of missee adds to beauty. Her figure is tall and commanding; her hair jet black, very long and straight; her hands and arms are lovely, very lovely.

On the cloth before Mulka were many glass dishes, filled with sweetmeats, which were offered to the company, with tea and coffee, by her attendants. Mulka partook of the coffee; her hooqŭ was at her side, which she smoked now and then; she offered her own hooqŭ to me, as a mark of favour. A superior or equal has her hooqŭ in attendance, whilst the bindah khāna furnishes several for the inferior visitors. Mrs. Valentine Gardner, the wife of Colonel Gardner’s brother, was of the party; she lives with the Begam.

Mulka’s dress was extremely elegant, the most becoming attire imaginable. A Musalmānī wears only four garments:—

Firstly, the angīya: a boddice, which fits tight to the bosom, and has short sleeves; it is made of silk gauze, profusely ornamented.

Secondly, the kurtī: a sort of loose body, without sleeves, which comes down to the hips; it is made of net, crape, or gauze, and highly ornamented.

Thirdly, pājāmas: of gold or crimson brocade, or richly-figured silk; made tight at the waist, but gradually expanding until they reach the feet, much after the fashion of a fan, where they measure eight yards eight inches! a gold border finishes the trowser.

Fourthly, the dopatta: which is the most graceful and purely feminine attire in the world; it is of white transparent gauze, embroidered with gold, and trimmed with gold at the ends, which have also a deep fringe of gold and silver.

The dopatta is so transparent it hides not; it merely veils the form, adding beauty to the beautiful, by its soft and cloud-like folds. The jewellery sparkles beneath it; and the outline of its drapery is continually changing according to the movements or coquetry of the wearer. Such was the attire of the Princess! Her head was covered with pearls and precious stones, most gracefully arranged: from the throat to the waist was a succession of strings of large pearls and precious stones; her arms and hands were covered with armlets, bracelets, and rings innumerable. Her delicate and uncovered feet were each decorated with two large circular anklets composed of gold and precious stones, and golden rings were on her toes. In her nose she wore a n’hut, a large thin gold ring, on which was strung two large pearls, with a ruby between them. A nose-ring is a love token, and is always presented by the bridegroom to the bride. No single woman is allowed to wear one.

In her youth Mulka learned to read and write in Persian, but since her marriage has neglected it. Music is considered disgraceful for a lady of rank, dancing the same—such things are left to nāch women. Mulka made enquiries concerning the education of young ladies in England; and on hearing how many hours were devoted to the piano, singing, and dancing, she expressed her surprise, considering such nāch-like accomplishments degrading.

A native gentleman, describing the points of beauty in a woman, thus expressed himself:

“Barā barā nāk, barā barā ānkh, munh jaisa chānd, khūb bhāri aisa.” A very very large nose, very very large eyes, a face like the moon; very very portly, thus!—stretching out his arms as if they could not at their fullest extent encircle the mass of beauty he was describing!

When a woman’s movements are considered peculiarly graceful, it is often remarked, “She walks like a goose, or a drunken elephant.” “One must behold Laīlī with the eyes of Majnūn[132].”

Mr. Gardner has a fine estate at Kutchowra, with an indigo plantation: his establishment is very large, and completely native. I imagine he is greatly assisted in the management of his estate by the advice of the Begam: with the exception of this, she appears to have little to amuse her. Her women sit round her working, and she gives directions for her dresses. Eating opium and sleeping appear to occupy much of her time. Sometimes her slaves will bring the silver degchas and hāndīs (small caldrons and cooking pots) to her, and, guided by her instructions, will prepare some highly-esteemed dish, over charcoal in a little moveable fire-place, called an angethī.

Her husband, who is very proud of her, often speaks of her being a descendant of Timur the Tartar. Timurlane, as we call him, which is a corruption of Timurlung, or the lame Timur: he was a shepherd, and as he sat on the mountain one day watching his flocks, a fakīr came up, who, striking him on the leg, said, “Arise, and be King of the World.” He did so, but was lame ever after from the blow. The Timoorians are remarkable for their long, large, and fine eyes. English dresses are very unbecoming, both to Europeans and Asiatics. A Musulmanī lady is a horror in an English dress; but an English woman is greatly improved by wearing a native one, the attire itself is so elegant, so feminine, and so graceful.

Mr. Gardner gave me a room within the four walls of the zenāna, which afforded me an excellent opportunity of seeing native life. At first the strong scent of atr of roses was quite overpowering, absolutely disagreeable, until I became reconciled to it by habit.

The Muhammadans, both male and female, are extremely fond of perfumes of every sort and description; and the quantity of atr of roses, atr of jasmine, atr of khas-khās, &c., that the ladies in a zenāna put upon their garments is quite overpowering.

The prophet approved of scents: “Next to women he liked horses, and next to horses perfumes.” Ja’bir-bin-Samurah said, “I performed noon-day prayer with his majesty; after that, he came out of the masjid; and some children came before him, and he rubbed their cheeks in a most kind manner with his blessed hand, one after another. Then his majesty touched my cheek, and I smelt so sweet a smell from it, that you might say he had just taken it out of a pot of perfumes.”

Mulka Begam, and all the females in attendance on her, stained their hands and feet with menhdī. Aa’yeshah said, “Verily, a woman said, ‘O prophet of God! receive my obedience.’ He said, ‘I will not receive your profession, until you alter the palms of your hands; that is, colour them with hinà; for without it one might say they were the hands of tearing animals.’” Aa’yeshah said, “A woman from behind a curtain made a sign of having a letter; and his highness drew away his hand and said, ‘I do not know whether this is the hand of a man or a woman.’ The woman said, ‘It is a woman’s.’ His highness said, ‘Were you a woman, verily you would change the colour of your nails with hinà.’”

To the slave girls I was myself an object of curiosity. They are never allowed to go beyond the four walls, and the arrival of an English lady was a novelty. I could never dress myself but half a dozen were slily peeping in from every corner of the pardas (screens), and their astonishment at the number and shape of the garments worn by a European was unbounded!

Ladies of rank are accustomed to be put to sleep by a slave who relates some fairy tale. To be able to invent and relate some romantic or hobgoblin adventure, in an agreeable manner, is a valuable accomplishment. I have often heard the monotonous tone with which women of this description lulled the Begam to sleep. To invent and relate stories and fables is the only employment of these persons. The male slaves put their masters to sleep in the same fashion.

Native beds (charpāī) are about one foot high from the ground; people of rank have the feet of these couches covered with thick plates of gold or silver, which is handsomely embossed with flowers. A less expensive, but still a very pretty sort, are of Bareilly work, in coloured flowers; some are merely painted red, green, or yellow; and those used by the poor are of plain mango wood. From the highest to the lowest the shape is all the same, the difference is in the material and the workmanship; no posts, no curtains. The seat of the bed is formed of newār (broad cotton tape), skilfully interlaced, drawn up tight as a drum-head, but perfectly elastic. It is the most luxurious couch imaginable, and a person accustomed to the charpāī of India will spend many a restless night ere he can sleep with comfort on an English bed.

A Musalmānī lady will marry an English gentleman, but she will not permit him to be present during the time of meals. Mr. Gardner and Mulka have three children, two boys and a girl; they are remarkably handsome, intelligent children, and appeared as gay and happy as possible. They always wore rich native dresses,—a most becoming style of attire. The name of the eldest is Sulīman, the second is William Linnæus, and the little girl is called Noshaba Begam.

When I retired to my charpāī, my dreams were haunted by visions of the splendour of the Timoorians in former days; the palace at Agra, and the beautiful Begam with whom I had spent the evening.

23rd.—Mr. Gardner proposed a chītā or cheeta hunt: he had a fine hunting leopard; we went out to look for antelopes; the day was very hot, we had no success, and returned very much fagged; Mrs. B— was laid up in consequence with an ague. There was a fine elephant at Kutchowra, a great number of horses, and a few dogs.

The next morning I spent an hour with the Begam, and took leave of her; it is difficult to find her awake, she sleeps so much from opium. If you call on a native lady, and she does not wish to receive a visitor, the attendants always say, “The lady is asleep,—” equivalent to Not at home. Sometimes she employs herself in needle-work, and her attendants sit around, and net kurtīs for her on a sort of embroidery frame.

It may be as well to remark, that the opium given by the Begam to her children was remarkably fine and pure; grown in her own garden, and collected daily from incisions made in the pod of the deep red poppy.

On my departure, the Begam presented me with a beautifully embroidered batū’ā (a small bag) full of spices; it was highly ornamented, and embroidered in gold and silver, interwoven with coloured beads.

She wished me to put on churees, which are bracelets made of sealing-wax, ornamented with beads; they are extremely pretty, but of little value. I consented, and the churees were put on in this manner: a churee, having been cut open with a hot knife, it was heated over a charcoal fire, opened a little—just enough to allow it to pass over the arm; it was then closed, and the two ends were united by being touched with a hot knife. I wore these churees until they broke and dropped off, in memory of my first visit to the zenāna.