1835, Feb.—When a woman of rank marries, two female slaves are given with her, who are also the wives of her husband: this is so completely a custom it is never omitted: nevertheless, “The very voice of a rival wife is intolerable[135].”

A number of women are considered to add to a man’s dignity: they add to his misery most decidedly. This custom being more honoured in the breach than the observance, was not put in force at the marriage of Mr. Gardner with Mulka Begam. “The malice of a fellow-wife is notorious[136].” It would only be surprising if such were not the case. “A contemporary wife is intolerable, even in effigy[137].” In native life the greatest misery is produced from a plurality of wives: they, very naturally, hate each other most cordially, and quarrel all day. The children, also, from their cradles are taught to hate the children of the other wives; nevertheless, the following extract proves, that she is considered a wife worthy of praise, who loves the offspring of her husband and another woman:—

“A woman may be married by four qualifications; one, on account of her money; another, on account of the nobility of her pedigree; another, on account of her beauty; the fourth, on account of her faith: therefore, look out for a religious woman; but if you do it from any other consideration, may your hands be rubbed in dirt.”—“The world and all things in it are valuable; but the most valuable thing in the world is a virtuous woman.”—“The best women, that ride on camels, I mean the women of Arabia, are the virtuous of the Koreish; they are the most affectionate to infants, whether they be their own or their husband’s by other women; and they are the most careful of their husband’s property.” The proverb is at variance with the opinion of the prophet, since the former asserts, “A contemporary wife may be good, but her child is bad[138].” As the means of power over their husbands, native women value their children very much, and are miserable if they have none.

A zenāna is a place of intrigue, and those who live within four walls cannot pursue a straight path: how can it be otherwise, where so many conflicting passions are called forth? If a man make a present to one wife, he must make a similar offering to all the rest, to preserve peace and quietness. The wives must have separate houses or apartments; were it not so, they would agree as well as caged tigers. The kur’ān permits a Musalmān to have four wives; the proverb says, “The man is happy who has no she goat[139].” Atàa records, that the prophet had nine wives; and from Safíah, who was the last of them who died, he wished to be divorced; but she said, “Keep me with your wives, and do not divorce me, peradventure I may be of the number of your wives in paradise.”

Some authorities assert, that the prophet had eighteen wives: Atàa only mentions nine. To recompense his warlike followers for allowing them only four wives each, he gives them the mutâh marriage for any period they may choose with the wives of their enemies taken in battle.

In the beginning of Islàm, the followers of the prophet, the shī’as were allowed to marry for a limited time; this temporary marriage was called mutâh. “Verily the prophet prohibited, on the day of the battle of Khaiber, a mutâh marriage, which is for a fixed time, and he forbade the eating of the flesh of the domestic ass.” “His highness permitted, in the year in which he went to Awtàs, mutâh for three days; after which he forbade it.” At length a revelation came down which rendered every connexion of the sort unlawful for the faithful, “excepting the captives which their right hands possess.”

If a woman of high rank and consequence has no heir, this farce is often played. The lady appears to expect one; she is fattened up in the same curious manner in which they fatten their horses: five or six low caste women, who really expect children about the same time, are secreted in the zenāna: when one of them is delivered of a son, the Begam takes it, the farce of an accouchement is acted, and the child is produced as the heir; the real mamma has 500 rupees (£50) given her,—and perhaps a dose of poison to secure her silence.

The father of Mulka Begam, the Huzūr Mirza Sulimān Shekō, the brother of the present Emperor of Delhi, resides at Agra, on a pension from Government; he has children innumerable, all young princes and princesses; there are, it is said, some forty of his children now alive, proud and poor. By Mulka’s first marriage with Mirza Selīm, the second son of the present King of Delhi, she had three children. The first wife of the King of Oude is a sister of Mulka’s, and is reckoned more beautiful than even Mulka herself.

24th.—We drove over to Khāsgunge, Colonel Gardner’s residence, thirteen miles, over roads that were hardly passable. On our arrival, we found our dear friend seated on the steps in front of his house, with many gentlemen, both English and native, around him. I thought I had never seen so dignified and graceful a person; he was dressed in a lubāda of red figured Indian shawl, the rest of the dress was English, but the style of the lubāda was particularly good, and suited to an old man; his half brother, Mr. Valentine Gardner, was with him, also an old nawāb from Cambay.

Colonel Gardner has a fine estate at Khāsgunge; the outer house is dedicated to his friends and English acquaintance; within four high walls is the barā-deri, or pavilion, in the centre of the zenāna gardens, in which his begam resides.

Apartments were given to my husband and me in the outer house, where the English visitors resided. The dinners at first consisted of European, as well as native dishes; but the latter were so excellent, I soon found it impossible to partake of dishes dressed after the English fashion, and as all the guests were of the same opinion, Colonel Gardner had the kindness to banish European dishes from the table.

I must not forget to mention the arwarī fish, the finest and most delicious I ever tasted; the Kālā-naddī is famed for its arwarī, a sort of mullet; the fish delights to bask in the sun, floating on the surface of the water. Colonel Gardner kept two shīkarees (native sportsmen), for the purpose of shooting these fish; one man fired, and the other instantly plunged into the water, and brought out the fish that were killed or stunned. The Musalmāns object to eating fish having no scales; such fish was also forbidden to the Jews.

In the evening, the native mimics came to perform before us; they imitated Europeans very well, and mimicked the gentlemen of the party. A pūtlī-nāch was afterwards brought forward; I was surprised to see the natives, young and old, so eager and fond of this absurdity, until Colonel Gardner said, “The natives are madly fond of this pūtlī-nāch; indeed, it is all the English have left them of their former glory. You see, represented by puppets, Shāhjahān and all his Court and Durbar: one puppet is brought forward, and the manager, whilst it bows to the audience, relates the whole history of the minister whom it represents; giving a true account of his pedigree, riches, influence, &c. At this moment, standing behind my chair, at a salary of four rupees a month, is the lineal descendant of one of the first lords in the Court of Shāhjahān. The managers of the show mix up infinite wit with their relation of events, and sarcasms on the English.”

After this explanation, I could see the reason of the fondness of the old natives for this puppet-show, which before, in my ignorance, I had not comprehended. One by one every puppet is brought forward, and its history recounted. This evening fatigued me a good deal; we sat under the verandah to see the sights, the glare of the torches was painful to my eyes, and the noise made my head ache.

27th.—A lynx (the caracal), the property of Colonel Gardner, a most extraordinary looking beast, killed a goa samp: I was told, the animal catches crows by springing several feet into the air after them as they rise from the ground.

The cheeta, or chītā, (hunting leopard), killed two antelopes: some nāch girls danced and sang in the evening, and thus closed the day.

My husband, who had accompanied me to Khāsgunge, now took leave of Colonel Gardner, and returned to Allahabad, leaving me with our dear friend to witness the Muhammadan marriage ceremonies. My husband quitted us with regret, being obliged to depart on account of the expiration of his leave of absence.

Colonel Gardner married Nawab Matmunzel ool Nissa Begam, of the Cambay family; she resides in the house or pavilion within the four walls, with her relatives, attendants, and slaves. This morning the Begam sent word she would receive visitors in the evening; Colonel Gardner took me over, and introduced me to her as his adopted daughter; she rose and embraced me, putting her cheek to mine on each side the face, after the fashion of the French, and her arms around me: having received her guests, she sat down on her gaddī of purple velvet, embroidered with gold; and we seated ourselves on plain white gaddīs on either side.

The Begam is a very lively little old woman; she was magnificently dressed in pearls, diamonds, and emeralds,—as many as it was possible to put on her little body; she wore a peshwāz, or very short full gown, with a tight body, made of red and gold Benares tissue; this is a dress Of state; pigāmās of silk; and, over all, a dopatta of red and gold Benares tissue, which, as she sat, covered her entirely; and she looked more like a lump of glittering gold and crimson and pearls, than a living woman. A golden hooqŭ, with four nā’echas (snakes) was placed before her on a hooqŭ carpet of raised flowers, curiously cut out in paper. The room was covered with a carpet, over which white cloths were spread after the usual fashion, and the lamps all stood on the ground.

At the other end of the room sat fourteen slave girls, belonging to the Begam, who played on different instruments, whilst one or two of them nāched before us.

The ladies of the family were seated on the Begam’s left hand.

There was Hinga Beebee Sāhiba, the Widow of Allan Gardner, the eldest son of Colonel Gardner; her eldest daughter, Hirmoozee, married Mr. Stuart William Gardner, an officer in the 28th Native Infantry, and son of Admiral Francis Gardner, a relative of Colonel Gardner’s.

Her second daughter, Susan, generally called Shubbeah Begam, was not present; being engaged to be married to a young Prince of Delhi, she was kept in pārda. At her feet were the two daughters of James Gardner by a former marriage; the eldest, Alaida (the Morning Star), about fifteen years old, very fair, with a round pretty face; but her great charm was a remarkably sweet and interesting manner; she of them all was the one whom Colonel Gardner best loved; and indeed she was a sweet girl. Her younger sister (the Evening Star) was darker than Alaida, pretty and lively. They, like the Begam, had Tartar faces, in which the eyes are wide apart; but were both, nevertheless, very pretty and interesting girls.

Two English gentlemen, who were fond of native life, and fascinated with Khasgunge, requested me to mention to Colonel Gardner their wish to become of his family; I did so. Colonel Gardner replied, “Shubbeah is engaged to the Prince:” but, said I, “Do you think she likes him?” “How little you know of the natives!” he replied; “it would be considered the greatest indelicacy for a girl to prefer one man to another, or to have seen the man to whom she is to be united. Tell Mr. — I am flattered by his wish to be of my family, and would willingly give him my grand-daughter, but the Begam is bent on this grand alliance, as she considers it: I have withheld my consent for years; ‘The house may be filled with the falling of drops[140];’ i.e. continual dripping wears away stones. She has carried the point. I have been happy in my marriage, but I would not advise an European gentleman to marry a native lady. With respect to the proposals of the other gentleman, in a worldly point of view it would be a good match; but I do not like the man; I cannot bestow upon him the Morning Star.”

Bānā Beebee Sāhiba was also there; in her younger days she must have been pretty; her liveliness she still retained.

The guests smoked the hooqŭ, and ate pān; some very delicate pān was prepared for me, of which I partook for the first time, and rather liked it.

At the end of the evening, the Begam gave her guests liberty to depart; pān and atr of roses were presented to us; rose-water was sprinkled over us; we made salām in due form, and returned to the outer house.

The Begam has a guard of honour of forty men, who live at the entrance of the zenāna, and guard the gateway night and day.

I must not forget the old Nawāb of Cambay, the uncle of the Begam; he is quite a character, and a very singular one; he has visited England; he used to dine at the table with us, and would take sherry with the guests. When a lady was at table he would take sherry; if gentlemen only were present, the sherry was discarded for brandy: one day I observed he drank some white spirit, and found it was a strong spirit he himself distilled from different flowers: to my surprise, he used also to play backgammon. Natives have names and titles innumerable, of which his are a good specimen: Fakhr-ul-dawla Moomtaj ul Moolk Nawab Meer Momun Khan Bahadur Delme Delawor Jung.

Colonel Gardner’s name is William Linnæus, so called after his godfather, the great botanist; he is himself an excellent botanist, and pursues the study with much ardour. His garden at Khāsgunge is a very extensive and a most delightful one, full of fine trees and rare plants, beautiful flowers and shrubs, with fruit in abundance and perfection; no expense is spared to embellish the garden: in the centre is a delightful pavilion, under the shade of fine trees. It is one of the pleasures of the Begam and her attendants to spend the day in that garden: guards are then stationed around it, to prevent intrusion. She is herself extremely fond of flowers, and, although not a botanist, after the European fashion, she knows the medicinal qualities of all the Indian plants, and the dyes that can be produced from them; and this knowledge is of daily account in the zenāna.

March 1st.—Took a gallop on a fine English horse, Rattler by name; being accustomed to ride Arabs, this great monster appeared like a frisky mountain under me.

2nd.—Mr. James Gardner invited us to return to his house at Kutchowra, that we might enjoy chītā hunting. We drove over, and in the evening some nāch women exhibited before us for our amusement.

3rd.—In the early morning I mounted a white pony, and we all rode out eight miles to breakfast in a tent which had been sent out over night. After breakfast the party got into the buggies.

We went directly across the country; there were no roads,—over banks, and through ditches, where it appeared a miracle we were not upset. We came to a deep, narrow, stone water-course: my companion said, “If you will get out of the buggy, I will leap the mare over; if I attempt to walk her over, she will be sure to get her foot in, and break her leg.” I got out accordingly; away went the mare; she took a leap at the drain, and carried the buggy over in excellent style. Buggies in India have the remarkable faculty of leaping, being accustomed to such freaks.

We arrived at the estate of a native gentleman, called Petumber, where, on the plain, we saw a herd of about three hundred antelopes, bounding, running, and playing in the sunshine; and a severe sun it was, enough to give one a brain fever, in spite of the leather hood of the buggy. The antelopes are so timid, they will not allow a buggy to come very near the herd; therefore being determined to see the hunt, we got out of the carriage and mounted upon the hackery (cart) on which the cheetā was carried, without even an umbrella, lest it should frighten the deer. The cheetā had a hood over his eyes and a rope round his loins, and two natives, his keepers, were with him.

I sat down by accident on the animal’s tail:—O-o-o-wh, growled the cheetā. I did not wait for another growl, but released his tail instantly. The bullock hackery was driven into the midst of the herd. The bandage was removed from the eyes of the cheetā, and the cord from his body: he dropped from the cart and bounded, with the most surprising bounds, towards an immense black buck, seized him by the throat, flung him on the ground, and held him there. The keepers went up, they cut the buck’s throat, and then they cut off the haunch of the hind leg, and, dipping a wooden spoon into the cavity, offered it full of blood to the cheetā. Nothing but this would have induced the cheetā to quit the throat of the buck. He followed the men to the cart, jumped upon it, drank the blood, and the men then put his bandage over his eyes. The haunch was put into the back of the cart, the reward for the animal when the hunting was over. The herd had passed on; we followed, taking care the wind did not betray our approach. The cheetā was leaning against me in the hackery, and we proceeded very sociably. Another herd of antelopes went bounding near us, the cheetā’s eyes were unbound again, and the rope removed from his loins; a fine buck passed, we expected he would instantly pursue it as usual, but the animal turned sulky, and instead of dropping down from the hackery, he put both his fore-paws on my lap and stood there two or three seconds with his face and whiskers touching my cheek. O-o-o-wh—O-o-o-wh, growled the cheetā!—my heart beat faster, but I sat perfectly quiet, as you may well imagine, whilst I thought to myself, “If he seize my throat, he will never leave it until they cut off my hind quarter, and give him a bowl of blood!” His paws were as light on my lap as those of a cat. How long the few seconds appeared whilst I eyed him askance! Nor was I slightly glad when the cheetā dropped to the ground, where he crouched down sulkily and would not hunt. He was a very fine-tempered animal, but they are all uncertain. I did not like his being quite so near when he was unfastened and sulky.

The next time I took care to get off the cart before the creature was freed from restraint. It is painful to witness a cheetā hunt, the beautiful antelope has so little chance of escape.

During the day, we killed three fine antelopes; the horns of one of them, remarkably large, with five turns on them, I brought to England. We rested under some trees by a well to partake of tiffin, when one of the party observed, “This wood and well are remarkable. Heera Sing, the father of Petumber, was a Thug, and made by Thuggee a large fortune. In this plantation and by the side of this very well his people used to wait for travellers, lure them to the shade and water to refresh themselves, strangle them, and cast their bodies into the well.

“After having amassed a fortune, Heera Sing repented, and gave orders that life should not be taken on his estate. He would not allow the antelopes to be killed; and his son having followed his example, accounts for the large herds of antelopes we have found here: it is an excellent preserve.” We then returned home; I was almost dead with the heat, having been out in such a powerful sun during a drive of about thirty miles.

Mulka Begam sometimes goes out cheetā hunting in a native carriage, drawn by two magnificent bullocks, adorned with crimson housings, and their horns covered with plates of gold.

In this manner the princess can behold the sport, and enter into the amusement, while she is completely secluded from the profane eye of man.