1835, March 18th.—Before entering on a description of the marriage ceremonies, it may be as well to explain the singular manner in which Colonel Gardner’s family has intermarried with that of the Emperor of Delhi, which the annexed pedigree will exemplify.

William Gardner, Esq., of Coleraine, left a son.

William Gardner, Esq., Lieut.-Colonel in the 11th regiment of Dragoons. He married Elizabeth, daughter of Valentine Farrington, Esq., and had issue Valentine, born 1739, Allan, and other children. Allan was created a baronet, and afterwards elevated to the peerage in Ireland in 1800; and created a peer of the United Kingdom, 1806.

Valentine, the eldest son, a Major in the army, married, first, Alaida, daughter of Robert Livingstone, Esq., by whom he had a son, William Linnæus, Captain in the army; and, secondly, Frances, daughter of Samuel Holworthy, Esq., by whom he had another son, Valentine.

Colonel William Linnæus Gardner married Nawab Matmunzel-ool-Nissa Begam Delme, and by her had two sons, Allan and James, and a daughter; the last mentioned died young.

Allan, the eldest son, married Beebee Sāhiba Hinga, and left one son, Mungo, who died young, and two daughters, Hirmoozee and Susan. Hirmoozee married her relative, Stewart William Gardner, Esq., son of Rear-Admiral Francis Gardner, the brother of Allan Hyde Lord Gardner. Susan, the second daughter, or Shubbeah Begam as she is called, is the one whose marriage is on the tapis.

James Gardner, the second son of Colonel William Linnæus Gardner, married, first, Beebee Sāhiba Banoo, by whom he had one son, Hinga, and two daughters, Alaida, the Morning Star, and the Evening Star. He married, secondly, Mulka Humanee Begam, and by her had four children, two sons and two daughters: Sulimān and William Linnæus; Nashaba Begam, and another girl.

Mirza Sulimān Shekō, son of Shāh Allum, the late Emperor of Delhi, and brother of Akbar Shāh, the present Emperor, has a numerous family. Two of the daughters were celebrated for their beauty: one of them, Mulka Humanee Begam, married her cousin, Mirza Selīm, the son of Akbar Shāh, from whom she was divorced: she married, secondly, Mr. James Gardner. Sultana Bōa, the other daughter, married Nusseer-ood-Deen Hydur, the King of Oude. Mirza Unjun Shekō, son of Mirza Suliman Shekō, and half-brother of Mulka Begam, is engaged to Susan Gardner, as before-mentioned.

Colonel Gardner was exceedingly unwilling to allow of the marriage of his grand-daughter with the young prince, but the old Begam, his wife, had set her heart upon it. He would rather have seen her married to a European gentleman; but the Begam, who is an adopted daughter of the Emperor of Delhi, is delighted with the match,—in her eyes a fine alliance.

I must describe the bride, Susan Gardner, or, as she is called in the zenāna, Shubbeah Begam, every lady having her name and title also. She had been cried up by the people at Agra as a great beauty, and Colonel Gardner had received several proposals for her, both from European and native gentlemen. She was also described as very accomplished for the inhabitant of four walls, being able to read, and write, and keep accounts with gram. She is about twenty years of age, very old for a bride in this country, where girls marry at eleven or twelve, and the proverb describes them as “shrivelled at twenty.”

My surprise was great when I saw her in the zenāna. Her complexion is pale and sallow, her face flat, her figure extremely thin, and far from pretty. Her flatterers called her “so fair!” but she has not the fairness of a European, or the fine clear brown of some Asiatic ladies: her manners were also admired, but I did not like them, nor did she move stately as an elephant, an epithet applied to a woman having a graceful gait.

Unjun Shekō, the bridegroom, who is about twenty years of age, is a remarkably handsome man; his black curling hair hangs in long locks on each side his face; his eyes very large, long, and bright; his features fine; his complexion a clear brown; his figure the middle size; and like all natives, he wore a beard, moustache, and whiskers. His three brothers, who came to the wedding with him, are ugly, low caste looking men. Unjun’s manners are good, theirs are cubbish. For four or five years he has been trying to bring about this marriage; but Colonel Gardner opposed it on account of his extravagance. His father, Sulimān Shekō, has refused to give one rupee to the young couple, so that the whole expense of the wedding falls upon Colonel Gardner: he pays for both sides. The young prince has only an allowance of 100 rupees a month! Natives, especially native women, are curious beings; the whole pride of their lives consists in having had a grand wedding: they talk of it, and boast of it to the hour of their death. Colonel Gardner said, “If I were to give Shubbeah the money that will be fooled away in display at this marriage, I should make her miserable; she would think herself disgraced; and although by custom she is not allowed to stir from her room, or to see the sight, still it will charm her to hear the road was lighted up for so many miles, the fireworks were so fine and the procession so grand! She would have this to talk of in preference to the money, even if she were forced to deprive herself of half her food all her life; she is a pakkā Hindostānee!” They were horrified at my description of an English marriage. A carriage and four, attended by five or six other carriages, made a good wedding; when the ceremony had been performed by the padre, the bride and bridegroom drove away: no procession, no fireworks; the money put in the banker’s hands, the parents gave a dinner and ball, and all was finished.

The Begam was in a perfect agony from morning till night, lest any one thing should be forgotten,—lest any, even the smallest gift might be omitted; if it were, the people would say, “What a shabby wedding!” and, in spite of all the expense, she would lose her good name.

It would be utterly impossible for me to recount the innumerable ceremonies performed at the wedding of a Muhammadan; the following are a few of the most remarkable.

March 12th.—The ceremonies began: In the first place, the bridegroom’s party, consisting of Mr. James Gardner, Mulka Began, Mrs. B—, and Mr. V—, went into tents four miles distant; while the bride’s party, consisting of Colonel Gardner, his Begam, the bride, and myself, remained at Khāsgunge. We had also, in the outer house, Mr. Valentine Gardner, a party of English gentlemen, and the old Nawab of Cambay. It appeared curious to me to sit down to dinner with these gentlemen, who were all attired in native dresses, and do the honours, at times when my dear Colonel Gardner was too unwell to quit the zenāna, and join the dinner party in the outer house. The turban is not a necessary appendage to Asiatic attire; in all friendly or familiar intercourse the skull cap is worn,—the turban in company; it is disgraceful to uncover the head.

But to return to my story. About 3 P.M., Mulka Begam came in procession to bring the bride’s dress, which is a present from the bridegroom. The procession consisted of elephants, raths (four-wheeled native carriages drawn by bullocks), palanquins, led horses, &c.; and one hundred trays, carried on men’s heads, containing the dress for the bride, sweetmeats, and basun (flour of gram), wherewith to wash the lady. Mulka Begam came in a covered palanquin, screened from the gaze of men.

I, as in duty bound, had made my salām to Shubbeah Begam, and was in attendance in the zenāna, to receive the bridegroom’s party.

“Women of the lower class, on entering the female assembly, must not say ‘salām;’ if the hostess be a lady of rank, they perform kudumbosee (the ceremony of kissing the feet) to her, and merely make salām to the rest. When going away they request permission, in the same way as the men in the male assembly, and take their departure.

“Kudumbosee, or the ceremony of kissing the feet, is, rather, to touch the feet of the hostess with the right hand, and then kiss the latter, or, more generally, make salām with it; while her ladyship, scarce allowing it to be done, out of politeness and condescension, withdraws her foot; and, taking hold of her hands, says, ‘Nay, don’t do that!’ or ‘Enough!’ ‘Long may you live!’ ‘Come, be seated!’ Or, if she be married, ‘May God render your sohag durable!’ i.e. May God preserve your husband: if he be dead, ‘May God cause your end to be happy!’

“The men of the better ranks of society, however, when coming in or going away, say, ‘Salām, bundugee tuslemat!’ i.e. ‘My blessing, service, or salutation to you!’ according to the rank of the lady of the house.

“The salām made by females is not like that of the males—touching the forehead with the right hand—but it consists in touching the puttee, or hair above the right temple[146].”

Speaking of men entering a zenāna, the place is considered so sacred, that, in a native family, only the nearest male relatives, the father and grandfather, can unrestrainedly obtain admission; the uncles and brothers only on especial occasions. The bride was once allowed to be seen by the brothers of Mirza Selīm, her betrothed husband; but he requested that no other persons but Colonel and Mr. James Gardner might behold her, and said, after marriage, he should not allow her to be seen even by his own brothers.

The trays containing the presents, brought in procession from the Prince, were received by the female slaves, conveyed by them into the zenāna, and placed before Colonel Gardner’s Begam and the Princess Mulka. It is a custom never to send back an empty tray; if money be not sent, part of the contents of the tray is left, fruit, flowers, &c. The presents were displayed on the ground before the bride, who was sitting on a charpāī, wrapped in an Indian shawl, hiding her face, and sobbing violently; I thought she was really in distress, but found this violent sorrow was only a part of the ceremony. Mulka Begam took a silver bowl, and putting into it sandal-wood powder and turmeric and oil, mixed it up, whilst both she and Colonel Gardner’s Begam repeated with great care the names and titles on both sides; it being unlucky if any name be forgotten, as any evil that may chance to befall the bride hereafter would be occasioned by forgetfulness, or mistaking the name over this oily mixture. The bride was then rubbed from head to foot with it; how yellow it made her, the turmeric! The natives say it makes the skin so beautiful, so yellow, and so soft: it certainly renders the skin deliciously soft, but the yellow tinge I cannot admire. After this operation was performed, all the mixture was scraped up, put into the bowl, and mixed with more oil, to be sent to the Prince, that his body might be rubbed with it—this is considered a compliment!

The bridal dress was then put on Shubbeah; it was of yellow gauze, trimmed with silver; the pajamas of red satin and silver. The faces of the attendants were smeared by way of frolic with the oily mixture, and the bridegroom’s party returned to their tents. I must not forget to mention that from the moment the bride is rubbed with this turmeric, she is a prisoner for ten days; not allowed to move from her charpāī, on which she sits up or sleeps. Twice a day she is rubbed with almond soap, mixed with turmeric, &c. All this time she is never allowed to bathe. She is fed on sweetmeats, and not allowed to touch acids, or vinegar, &c.: even pān is almost denied; but I fancy, without it an Asiatic lady would fret herself to death. And in this horrible state, a girl is kept during all the gaiety of the wedding; never allowed to move; to make her skin soft and yellow, and to render her sweet-tempered, I suppose, by feeding her with lumps of sugar!

As soon as the bridegroom’s party were gone, Colonel Gardner requested me to go in procession, with his pretty grand-daughter, Alaida (the Morning Star), to the Prince’s tents, to escort the dress of the bridegroom, sent as a present by the bride. We went accordingly in full procession, as described before, taking back the oily mixture. Mulka Begam received us at the Prince’s tent; he was placed on a silver footstool; Mulka took off his upper dress, and rubbed his face and arms with the mixture; she then arrayed him in a dress of yellow and orange muslin, a red turban, and red silk pajamas, in which attire he looked very handsome.

Before him sat three women, the Domnee, playing and singing bridal songs; I saw the Prince turn very red; he looked at the women, and said something in a low tone to Mulka Begam, who answered,—“The mem sāhiba knows they are singing gālee (abuse); but she does not understand Hindostanee sufficiently to comprehend their songs.” The language of the songs is complete slang. Yellow powder, mixed with water, was then thrown in frolic at all the people; I made my salām, quitted the tent, and finding a gentleman in waiting ready to drive me back, returned to Colonel Gardner’s, leaving the rest of the party to play and sing all night. Thus ended the first day of the ceremonies.

At the festival of the Hūlī, which is particularly dedicated to Krishnŭ, images of the deity are carried about on elephants, horses, in palkees, &c. The songs are exclusively in honour of Krishnŭ, and hailing the return of the season, personified under the name of Vasanta, generally pronounced Bessant. Kama, the god of love, is the son of Krishnŭ.

The Hoolī was celebrated by the natives with due glee; they threw abeer (red powder) into each other’s faces, and then squirted orange-coloured water over it; people were also sent on April-fool errands. Colonel Gardner avoided appearing amongst the people during this festival, and I imitated his example. The orange-coloured water is tinged with the flowers of the dhāk tree; the abeer is flour made from the singharra (water nut), and dyed with red sanders; the roots of the singharra are loosened by means of ropes fastened between two boats, with several men in each; and iron prongs are used in collecting them.

I mentioned to Colonel Gardner the songs of the women, the Domnee, who were in the tent, and the distress of the Prince. He said, “When marriages are negotiating, in particular, they are of the most unchaste description; they are admitted on such occasions, but the nāch girls never; the songs of the Domnee are indecent beyond the conception of an European.”

Nāch women dance and sing before men, and are not allowed to enter zenānas of respectability; but in all great establishments, such as Colonel Gardner’s, and that of his son, the slave girls are formed into sets of dancing girls, to sing and play for the amusement of the Begams.

Colonel Gardner remarked, “The songs of the nāch girls are never indecent, unless ‘by particular desire,’ and then in representing the bearer’s dance,—a dance which is never performed before ladies.”

The following tradition may account for the great noise made with native instruments at a wedding:—“The difference between the lawful and unlawful, in marriage, is proclamation and the beating of drums for them.” “Aa’yeshah gave a woman, who was nearly related to her, in marriage to one of the assistants; and the prophet came and said, ‘Have you sent the young woman to her husband?’ She said, ‘Yes.’ The prophet said, ‘Have you sent any singers with her?’ She said, ‘No.’ On which the prophet said, ‘Verily the assistants are a tribe fond of singing; therefore, had you sent any one with her to have sung A’taina’cum, A’taina’cum, then he would have prayed for your life and mine.’” A’taina’cum, a’taina’cum,—we come to you, we come to you, are the words of a song sung in marriage processions.

Aamīr-bin-sad said, “I went to Kardhah-bin-cab, and Abu Masuud Ansarī, in an assembly, in which was a bridal feast; and some women were singing; and I said, ‘O ye two companions of the prophet of God! and O ye men of Bedr! (i.e. combatants in that battle) shall this act (that is, singing), be done near you?’ They said to me, ‘Sit down if you please, and hear with us; but, if you please, go away, because the prophet permitted us to hear nuptial songs.’”

Domra is the name of a caste of Musalmāns, the males of which are musicians, and the females sing and dance in the company of females only.

THE SĀCHAK.

“WHEN THERE IS A MARRIAGE THEY MAY SING ALL NIGHT[147].”

March 28th.—The bride is denominated dulhān on the day of Sāchak, and the bridegroom dūlha. The poor dulhān is kept in strict parda on her charpāī; the dūlha ought by law to be equally confined, but he generally contrives to amuse himself during the time. After the bride and bridegroom had been rubbed a certain number of days with the oily mixture, the time appointed for the second day’s ceremonies arrived; which is called the Sāchak. Mulka Begam and the prince arrived in procession. The bridegroom’s party were dressed out in all their bravery. The party of the bride wore their old clothes, and looked as deplorable as possible. This was according to custom, and therefore strictly observed. On this day it is the fashion for the bride’s mother to appear in an undress, and even that soiled! The procession consisted of elephants in all their crimson and gold trappings, led horses, English and Arab; nalkīs, a sort of litter used by people of rank, palanquins, and raths, (native bullock carriages,) &c. A number of men dressed up as horses were prancing about, kicking and playing antics, and two hundred gharās (earthen vessels) filled with sweetmeats, which looked very gay from being covered with silver-leaf, were carried on the heads of two hundred men.

The platforms for the nāch women were the most curious part of the procession, they are called takhti-rawān, a sort of travelling throne, formed of bamboo, square in form, over which was spread an awning ornamented with crimson, and gold, and silver, and supported by four bamboos, one at each angle of the platform. On each travelling throne sat a native musician, playing on a kettle-drum, and before him danced two nāch women; the girls twirled and nāched with all their might and skill. The platforms were carried on the heads of a number of men in the procession, and had a curious and singular effect; the situation was a very unsteady one for the dancing girls, one of whom became giddy and tumbled down upon the heads of the crowd of people below. In this fashion ten stands, containing twenty nāch girls and ten musicians, were carried on men’s heads to the sound of kettle-drums. When Mulka had brought in the procession, and the company were seated, atr of sandal-wood was put on each person’s face, and a necklace of silver tissue around their necks. The same three vile old women began their songs of abuse; abusing the prince, the Begams, and myself; but as it was the custom, no one could be angry. I could only guess the sort of abuse; I could not understand it, never having heard it before. The prince’s yellow dress, now quite dirty, was on him still; according to custom, over it was put on a dress of cloth of gold and crimson. In front of his turban the jewelled jika was placed, and on his arms valuable bazubunds—armlets of precious stones. All this time the poor little bride was kept in her oily attire on her charpāī, and not allowed to stir. She only heard the noise and uproar of the procession. Mulka’s dress was very elegant.

THE MENHDĪ—THE THIRD DAY.

29th.—The menhdī is the tree, Lawsonia inermis, from the leaves of which the hinnā dye is produced: the leaves are gathered and pounded; when put on the hands and feet, and allowed to remain an hour or two, it produces a dark brownish red dye, which is permanent for four or five months; the hands and feet, both of men and women, thus dyed are reckoned beautiful. It is remarkable that female mummies have the nails stained with menhdī.

A number of trays of this prepared menhdī were carried on men’s heads, covered with embroidered velvet; they were sent from the bride to dye the bridegroom. This was the grand display on the part of the bride’s friends; who all, dressed in all their most costly attire, went, at eleven at night, in procession from Khāsgunge to the Prince’s tents. The road was enclosed with bamboo screens, all lighted up with thousands of small lamps; fireworks were let off in profusion, and the triumphal arches across the road were all illuminated; five thousand torches were carried by men, to light the procession. The Begam herself was there in her nālkee, the curtains all down and fastened; the ladies in a long line of native carriages, called raths; the boys in different sorts of native palkees; the men, handsomely dressed, on elephants. I went in an amārī, on an elephant; the amārī is a litter with two seats, covered by two canopies; when the seat on an elephant is open, without a canopy, it is called a howdah. Mr. T—, a friend, accompanied me; we sat in the front seat, and a native gentleman occupied the seat at the back. The elephant was a very large one; we were a great height from the ground, and had a good view, being above the smoke of the blue lights. The native gentleman amused us by his astonishment at Mr. T—’s not being a married man; my friend told him he wished to marry, but how could he without seeing the lady? The Asiatic said that was impossible; but could he not depend on his female friends to see and select for him? Mr. T— deputed me to select a wife for him; the native gentleman thought him in earnest, and said, when every thing was arranged, I might show Mr. T— her picture before they were married. In this manner weddings are made up; it would be the height of indelicacy to suppose a girl could have a choice, she marries just any one whom her friends select. The led horses, in their gay native caparison, looked so well amongst the blue lights; and the handsomest of all was Candidate, an imported English horse, formerly the property of Major P—; Rattler, another English horse, sixteen hands high, whom I had ridden several times, was also there. They were so quiet and well-behaved in the crowd and amongst the fireworks, much more quiet than the native horses.

The ten platforms, containing the twenty nāch girls and the kettle-drum players carried on men’s heads were also there. The effect of the gay dresses of the women, as they twirled and attitudinized was good by torch-light. Some of the girls, who were horrors by daylight, looked pretty by the artificial light, at a distance. It took two hours to go with the procession the four miles, through the village of Khāsgunge to the tents. All the inhabitants were either on the road or on the roofs of their houses, and we were attended by thousands of people: such a crowd, we could scarcely move forwards. On our arrival at the tents we found Mulka Begam’s tent prepared for the reception of the females of our party. It was in utter darkness. In front fine bamboo screens were let down, which, inside, were covered with thin white muslin. Through this parda, from the inside of the tent, you could see what was going on without, where every thing was brilliantly lighted, whilst we were in complete darkness. From without you could not see into the tent in the slightest degree. These screens are called pardas, and the women who live within them, parda nishīn, secluded behind the curtain. In front of the tent was pitched a very large shamiyana, a canopy, supported on every side by high poles; white cloths were spread on the ground. In the centre was seated the young Prince on his gaddī (throne of the sovereign), most beautifully dressed, and looking very handsome. His four ill-looking brothers were next to him. On a plain gaddī, by his side, sat Colonel Gardner and myself, and all the English and native gentlemen were seated on either side. In front, were one hundred nāch women, the best to be procured, brought, at an immense expense, from great distances; six or eight of these girls danced at a time, and were relieved by another set. Around were countless numbers of natives, in all their gayest dresses: and still further back were many elephants, on which people had mounted to get a sight of the tamāshā. When the preparations within were ready, Colonel Gardner took me, his son, and the five princes, within the tent; a parda (screen) was drawn across part of the tent, behind which were some native ladies, whom it would have been improper the men should have seen, they not being their relatives. The Prince was placed on a low silver seat, and fed with sugar; the amusement appeared to be, as you offered the sugar, and the Prince attempted to take it in his mouth, to snatch away your hand. The ladies behind the parda also put forth their hands to feed him with sugar; he tried to catch their hands, and having succeeded in catching the hand of one of the girls who was teazing him, he tried to draw off her ring, and in the struggle she was nearly pulled through the parda!

A silver bason was brought, and from it, Mulka Begam, Alaida, and her sister, the Evening Star, put the menhdī on the Prince’s hands and feet, and washed it off with water, which they poured from a silver vessel, of the most classical and beautiful shape I almost ever beheld. A turban of green and gold, ornamented with brilliants and precious stones, was placed on his head; he was then dressed in a dress of kimkhwāb (gold brocade), a red and gold kamarband, and green pājāmas; and a ring and armlets of great value and beauty were also put upon him. Sherbet was given to him, and all the guests, to drink, and their mouths were wiped with a sort of napkin of red and gold cloth by the cup-bearer.

Into the sherbet tray each guest put a gold mohur, the perquisite of the girls who had put the menhdī on the Prince. Afterwards, a slave-girl brought a silver vessel with water; water was poured over the hands of the guests, each of whom put four or five rupees into the bowl; this was given the Domnee, the same three old women who in one corner were singing all the time. Necklaces of the fresh flowers of the yellow jasmine were thrown over the neck of the prince and the guests. After these ceremonies were completed, the prince and Colonel Gardner quitted the tent. I remained with the Begam. A ceremony was then performed that surprised me considerably; the native ladies laughed, and appeared to think it high tamāshā.

It was now dinner time, being midnight. The inner pardas of the tent were let down, and lights were brought in. A white cloth was spread on the ground in front of the Begam’s gaddī, upon which eight large round dishes of earthenware were placed. These were filled with boiled rice mixed with almonds and many good things, very pleasant food. These dishes are always prepared at Asiatic weddings, as bride-cake is always an attendant on the same ceremony in Europe. The rice was piled up high, and silvered all over with silver leaf, and a tuft of silver ornamented the top. Silvered food is much used by natives; and in helping a dish, if you wish to pay a compliment, you send as much gold and silver leaf as you can. At weddings the food is served in earthen vessels, instead of the silver vessels commonly used, because, when the repast is over, the remainder of it, vessels and all, are given away.

Of course, according to Asiatic custom, we all sat on the ground. The Begam said, “What shall we do? we have no knives and forks for the bībī sāhiba.” I assured her my fingers were more useful than forks. She sent me a large dish, well filled and well silvered. I bowed over it, saying in an undertone to myself, “Jupiter omnipotens digitos dedit ante bidentes.” The Begam explained to the guests, “English ladies always say grace before meals.” After holding forth my right hand to have water poured upon it, I boldly dipped my fingers into the dish, and contrived to appease my hunger very comfortably, much to the amusement of the Asiatic ladies: but I found I could not get my fingers half so far into my mouth as they contrived to do; certainly the mode is ungraceful, but this may be prejudice. I looked at Mulka Begam, how far she pushed her delicate fingers down her throat—wah! wah!

“The prophet used to eat with three fingers, the thumb, the fore-finger, and the middle finger; and after eating he used to lick his blessed fingers before touching any thing else.” The prophet said, “Repeat the name of God, and eat with your right hand; the devil has power over that meat which is eaten without remembering the name of God.” “Verily God is pleased with a servant who eats a mouthful and says God’s praise, and drinks a draught of water, and says God’s praise.” “When any one of you eats, he must do it with his right hand; and when any one of you drinks, he must take hold of his water-pot with the right hand, because the devil eats and drinks with his left.”

After the repast silver vessels were handed round, and our mouths and fingers underwent ablution. Besan, the flour of gram, as good for the purpose as almond-paste, was presented to each guest; with it the grease was removed from the fingers, and water was poured over them.

Necklaces most beautifully made of silver tissue were now given to the whole of the company, both within and without the tent; the lights were carried away, a portion of the parda was removed, and we, unseen, could then observe what was going on without the tent, the nāching, and the company. Seeing the Begam apparently fatigued, I requested she would give me my dismissal, which, having received, I made my salām and returned to Colonel Gardner, with whom I sat looking at the nāch until 3 P.M., at which hour the prince, by taking his departure, broke up the assembly. “On retiring, the senior guest, addressing the host, says, ‘Be pleased to, or will you, give us leave, or permission, to depart?’ Adding, ‘May God bless and prosper you! I have made a hearty meal, or dined heartily (orig. eaten a belly full)!’ To which the other replies, ‘It is the will of God and Muhammad,’ i.e. not mine; or, ‘Very well:’ ‘Certainly.’ Then the whole company rise, calling out, ‘As salām alaikum!’ ‘Peace be unto you,’ and take their departure[148].” I returned to Khāsgunge in a palanquin, in which I slept all the way home, being fatigued and overcome with the exertions of the day.

It was a sight worth seeing; the thousands of well-dressed natives in picturesque groups, and the dancing girls under the brilliantly illuminated trees. I was delighted to sit by my dear Colonel Gardner, and to hear his explanations. In conversation he was most interesting, a man of great intelligence, and in mind playful as a child. I often begged him to write his life, or to allow me to write it at his dictation. The description of such varied scenes as those through which he had passed would have been delightful; and he wrote so beautifully, the work would have been invaluable. He used to tell me remarkable incidents in his life, but I never wrote them down, feeling that unless I could remember his language, the histories would be deprived of half their beauty. I have never described Mr. James Gardner, his son. He is a remarkably shrewd, clever, quick man. He has never been in England: he commenced his education at a school in Calcutta; and the remainder he received at home, from Colonel Gardner and his friend Mr. B—. Persian he reads and writes as fluently as a native, and transacts all his business in that language. He is very quick, and so deep, they say he even outwits the natives. He is very hospitable—expert in all manly exercises—a fine horseman—an excellent swordsman—skilled in the lance exercise—an admirable shot with the bow and arrow—excels in all native games and exercises. I fancy the Begam, his mother, would never hear of her son’s going to England for education; and to induce a native woman to give way to any reasons that are contrary to her own wishes is quite out of the power of mortal man. A man may induce a European wife to be unselfish and make a sacrifice to comply with his wishes, or for the benefit of her children. A native woman would only be violent, enraged, and sulky, until the man, tired and weary with the dispute and eternal worry, would give her her own way. Such at least is my opinion from what I have seen of life within the four walls of a zenāna. James Gardner is most perfectly suited to the life he leads: the power of the sun does not affect him so much as it does other people: he rides about his estates and farms all day: he has a great number of villages of his own, of which he is lord and master, and is able to conduct his affairs and turn his indigo and farming to profit. In all this he is assisted by the advice of Mulka Begam, to whom the natives look up with the highest respect. She is a clever woman, and her word is regarded as law by her villagers and dependents.