1835, March 30th.—Colonel Gardner said to me, “The bridegroom will come to-night to carry away his bride; it is an old Tartar custom for the man to fight for his wife, and carry her away by force of arms; this is still retained. I shall have the doors of the gateway barred at the entrance; and the soldiers on the prince’s arrival, after refusing to admit him, will at length allow him to enter, if he give them some gold mohurs. We, of the bride’s party, are not to join in the procession, but you may go out on an elephant provided you put no gay trappings upon him; and you can look on and say, ‘What a paltry procession, not half as fine as ours last night!’ this is the custom (dastūr). I will go in my tanjan and stand at one side.” This was the grand day of all: the prince and his party came at night; the village through which they passed was illuminated, as well as the road and the triumphal arches; they were accompanied by bands of music and flags innumerable; at every halt fireworks were let off, while blue lights added a picturesque effect to the scene. The prince rode at the head of the procession on an Arab covered with embroidered trappings; on each side, the animal was decorated with the white tails of the yāk; and over all was thrown an ornamental armour made of flowers. On the head of the Arab was a jika, an ornament from which arose a heron’s plume, of which each feather was tipped with gold; his neck, the bridle, and the crupper were adorned with ornaments and golden chains. According to etiquette, an attendant on foot by the side of the horse carried an āftābī, a sun embroidered on velvet attached to a staff, gaily ornamented and carried in an elevated position: it is used as a protection from the rays of the sun, and also as a point of dignity. Another carried a magnificent chatr, umbrella of silk, embroidered with gold, a mark of royalty. In Oude the king alone is entitled to the chatr, with the exception of the resident and his assistant. Then followed the elephants, and friends, and attendants on horseback, palanquins and native carriages of many descriptions: the procession was interspersed with the platforms containing dancing girls, carried by men, and a number of horses, English, Arab, and country, were led by their grooms. Innumerable torches flared in every direction, and chirāghs, small lamps fixed on ladders, were carried horizontally by the attendants. Artificial trees made of wax, coloured paper, and shola, decorated with gold and silver leaf, mica, and coloured foil, were carried by men in great number, and added a strangely Asiatic effect to the whole, as the blue lights fell upon them.

When the procession arrived at the entrance to Colonel Gardner’s estate, the doors of the gateway were found closed, and the prince was refused admittance; but after a mock fight, he was allowed to pass through into the grounds. The Begam would not have omitted a Timūrian custom for the world. The dress of the bridegroom consisted entirely of cloth of gold; and across his forehead was bound a sort of fillet (sihrā) made of an embroidery of pearls, from which long strings of gold hung down all over his face to his saddle-bow; and to his mouth he kept a red silk handkerchief closely pressed to prevent devils entering his body! In this heavy dress of gold the prince did not look to advantage.

I went out with two gentlemen, on a very shabbily-dressed elephant; we stopped by the road-side, and had a good view of the procession. One of the party, Mr. F—, attired most becomingly in the native fashion, mounted on a handsome white Arab, caparisoned in purple and gold, looked like a picture in a fairy tale, as he rode amongst the blue lights; his plain dress of fine white dacca muslin, with a white muslin turban, and a handsome black Indian shawl, put round his waist coxcomically in native style, was in very good taste. We remained about an hour viewing the scene,—the effect was excellent; even the old Nawāb of Cambay came out in a tanjan, and looked happy and well pleased. On looking for Colonel Gardner, I saw the dear old man seated on the side of a well, in darkness, and quite removed from the crowd, looking on and smiling at the foolery. Perhaps his thoughts reverted to his own marriage, when he had undergone the same ceremonies: I asked him how he could have endured such folly? He answered, “I was young then; and in love, I would have done or promised any thing.”

A very large shamiyāna (awning) was pitched before Colonel Gardner’s house; the ground beneath it was spread with white cloths, on which was placed the Prince’s gaddī, of velvet, embroidered with gold. An immense number of native gentlemen, wedding guests, were present; they came from their tents, which were all pitched on the estate around the house. During the last two days of the wedding, every man, woman, child, horse, elephant, and servant were fed at Colonel Gardner’s expense, and an immense outlay it must have been; my jamadār came to me, and said, “For the next two days your horses and servants will be fed by Colonel Gardner; do not object to it, it would bring ill-luck on the wedding; it is the custom (dastūr).” It is also the custom to sit up the whole night on this occasion; to beguile the time, a great number of brilliant ātāshbāzī (fireworks) were let off, which were fixed in the grounds in front of the house. The dancing girls descended from the platforms on which they had been carried, assembled under the shamiyāna, and sang and attudinized the whole night, one set relieving the other. The Prince seated himself on his gaddī, and the contract of marriage was read to him; it was written in Persian on beautifully illuminated parchment, for which Colonel Gardner paid duty 450 rupees, that is, £45.

Previous to the signature, it was necessary to gain the formal consent of the bride; for which purpose, Mr. James Gardner took the kāzī (native judge), and two of his native officers, with Mrs. B— and myself, into the zenāna. We stood in an empty room, adjoining that in which were the bride and the Begam, her grandmother; between us was the parda; we could hear, but not see. The kāzī said, “Is Shubbeah Begam present?” “Yes.” “Does Shubbeah Begam give her free consent to marry Mirza Unjun Shekō?” An answer was made, but in so low a tone, it was more like a murmur.

Mr. Gardner said, “You are witnesses, and have heard her give her consent.” I replied, “No; I heard a murmur, but know not what it meant.”

The Begam then said, “It is the custom for the bride, from modesty, to be unable to answer; but I, her grandmother, say ‘Yes’ for her.”

The kāzī said, “Mirza Unjun Shekō will settle seven lākh of rupees upon her.”

The Begam answered, “We forgive him two lākh, let him settle five.”

A lady laughed, and whispered to me, “The young Prince has not five cowries of his own.”

If the bride were to give her consent in words, she would be disgraced for ever as an impudent good-for-nothing; after repeated demands, and sometimes pinchings, her voice is heard in a sort of hem, which, it is taken for granted, means “Yes.”

A certain number of lumps of sugar were then sent from the bride to the Prince, and we returned to see him sign the contract.

The kāzī having taken off the veil of gold tissue, and the fillet, that were around the head of the bridegroom, requested him to repeat after him, in Arabic, a portion of some of the chapters in the Kur’ān, and, having explained the contract, asked him if he consented to it; to which he answered in the affirmative; after which the kāzī offered up a supplication in behalf of the betrothed pair; and several other ceremonies were performed.

The contract, a most curious document, was then read aloud; the Prince, having listened attentively, signed it; and several English gentlemen added their names as witnesses, to make it as binding as possible.

The dowry is made high as the only security the wife has that her husband will not turn her away as soon as he gets tired of her.

Colonel Gardner then took the contract, and said, “I shall keep this in my possession.” I asked him “Why?” He said, “It is generally kept by the bride; as long as she has it the husband behaves well; for a few months he treats her kindly, and she becomes fond of him; he coaxes her out of the contract, or he finds out where she hides it and steals it; when once he has got it into his possession he swears she gave it up willingly, and the contract is void.”

During the time we were signing the contract, a different scene was going on within the zenāna.

The Prince sent the n’hut (the nose-ring) to the bride, which is equivalent to putting the wedding-ring on the finger in Europe; it was a large thin hoop of gold, and a ruby between two pearls was strung upon it. On receiving it, the bride was taken from her charpāī, on which she had reposed during all the preceding days of this ceremony, in her yellow dress and oily paste, and was bathed. What a luxury that bath must have been, after so many nights and days of penance! She was then dressed in her handsomest attire, richly embroidered garments, and an immense number of jewels; but not one atom of this costume was visible, for over all was placed a large square of cloth of silver, and over that another large square, formed of cloth of gold, which covered her entirely from head to foot, face and all. Over her forehead was bound the same sort of fillet (sihrā) as the Prince wore, composed of strings of pearls and strings of gold, which hung down over the veil so that she could not see, and could scarcely breathe.

When the guns fired at the signing of the contract, the Prince ate the lumps of sugar that had been sent him by the bride; he then arose, and, quitting the male assembly, went into the zenāna, where he was received by the Begam and her guests, and seated on a gaddī. Soon after Mr. James Gardner appeared with the bride in his arms; he carried her from her own room, according to custom, and placed her on the gaddī, by the side of the Prince.

There she sat, looking like a lump of gold; no one could have imagined a human being was under such a covering; with difficulty she was kept from fainting, the heat was so excessive. Her lips and teeth had been blackened for the first time with misī, and gold and silver dust had been thrown over her face!

Surma (collyrium) also had been applied to her eyelids, at the roots of the lashes, by means of a piece of silver or lead, made in the shape of a probe without the knob at the end. The ladies in attendance on the young Begam then performed innumerable ceremonies; they fed the Prince with sugar-candy, and sifted sugar through his hands; they put a lump of sugar on the head of the bride, off which he took it up in his mouth, and ate it; sugar was placed on her shoulders, on her hands, on her feet, and it was his duty to eat all this misrī off all those parts of her body. The bride’s slipper was concealed under rich coverings, and the grand art appeared to be to make the Prince eat the sugar-candy off the shoe!

The Kur’ān was produced, and some parts of it were read aloud; a large Indian shawl was then spread over the heads of the bride and bridegroom, as they sat on the floor, and the shawl was supported like a canopy by the ladies in attendance. A looking-glass was put into the hands of the Prince, he drew the veil of the bride partly aside, and they beheld each other’s faces for the first time in the looking-glass! At this moment, had any false description of the bride been given to the bridegroom, he had the power of saying, “I have been deceived, the face I see is not the face that was pourtrayed to me; I will not marry this woman.” However, the Prince looked pleased, and so did she, for I saw her smile at this important moment; at which time I particularly observed the expression of their countenances. The Prince took up his bride in his arms,—the golden lump I before described,—and placing her on a silver charpāī, sat down by her side, and fanned her carefully. The poor girl was almost stifled beneath the gold and silver coverings, that oppressed but did not adorn her. By this time the night had nearly passed away; the remainder was taken up with tedious and trivial ceremonies; at last morning dawned, and at 11 A.M. the dowry was counted, and made ready to carry away.

When the moment arrived for the Prince to carry off his bride, the whole of the women in the zenāna came round her, and cried and wept with all their might and main; even those who did not regret her departure cried and wept most furiously. Colonel Gardner was sitting there, looking pale and miserable; when he embraced his grand-daughter, whom he loved, the old man trembled in every limb, the tears dropped from his eyes, and he could scarcely stand. He called the Prince to him, and told him that, according to his treatment of his child should be his own conduct towards him; that if he made her happy he should want for nothing; but if he made her unhappy he would make him miserable. Colonel Gardner then said to me, “When I gave her sister to young Gardner I knew she would be happy; but this poor girl, who may prophesy her fate? However, she wished it; her mother and the Begam had set their hearts upon it; and you know, my betī (my child), women will have their own way.”

Although Colonel Gardner always called me his child, and treated me as such, my title in the zenāna was “Fanī Bhū’a,” because his son usually addressed me as “Sister of my Father.”

When it was announced that the procession was ready, the Prince took the bride up in his arms, in her lump-like position, and carried her to her palanquin, the purdas of which were then let down, and fastened outside with gold and silver cords.

This taking up a girl who is sitting on the floor in your arms, and carrying her away without touching the ground with your knees, and without any assistance from another person, is a difficult affair to accomplish; to fail in doing it would be deemed unlucky. The bridegroom performed it very cleverly.

The Prince, in the dress in which he arrived, attended the palanquin on horseback; and the whole of the bride’s dower followed in procession, carried on the heads of men, and displayed to view. One golden-footed bed, and one silver-footed charpāī; a number of large trunks, covered with red cloth, containing cashmere shawls and ready-made clothes, sufficient to last for one year; and unmade clothes, and pieces of kimkhwāb, gold and silver tissues, silks, and pieces of India muslin, enough to last for three years. I saw a large pile of pājāmas for the bride put into one of the trunks, considered sufficient for the wear of a year; besides which, forty pieces, consisting of coloured silks and gold brocades, for the same article of dress, were sent unmade, and deemed sufficient for three years to come. Two elephants, several horses, a very handsome bilee for the lady herself, and several raths for the ladies in attendance upon her; as also a palanquin. Then came, carried on trays, dishes of various sorts, for the household, which were made of pure silver; ewers and chilamchīs of the same; also for the cook-room, every article in iron or copper necessary for the establishment of a newly-married couple; and all these things were of the best description. The jewels for the bride, which were very handsome and very valuable, were carried in state, together with a pāndan for holding betel, and all the ingredients for pān; another box, with partitions for spices, cardamums, &c.; a misī-dān for holding misī (a powder made of vitriol, &c.), with which they tinge the teeth of a black colour; a surmā-dān, for holding surmā (the collyrium which they apply to the eyes, to give them a brilliant appearance); an atr-dān, a gulabpash (for sprinkling rose-water); and every article for the toilet of an Asiatic lady. Quilts, mattresses, pillows, carpets, boxes, lamps; in fact, an endless list; besides male and female slaves, to attend on the newly-married people. A Kur’ān, for the bridegroom, was also carried in procession.

Every thing necessary for the use of a native lady is sent on such an occasion, and these articles are provided for years; head and heel ropes for the horses, and even wooden pegs to secure them, and the bullocks, are sent with the lady, that nothing may be wanting.

The Prince took his bride to his tents, and a remarkable ceremony was there witnessed by Mr. Vigne, which he thus relates:—

“I was admitted, as a great favour, to see a custom, peculiar, I believe, to the Timūrians, and which perhaps no European ever saw before. Immediately after the marriage ceremony the bridegroom has the bride taken to his home; but before she quitted her palanquin, which was set down close to it, she thrust her bared foot—a very pretty one, and dyed with henna at the extremities—through the sliding doors, and the bridegroom touched her great toe with the blood of a goat, which I saw him kill with his own hands, whilst yet in his bridal dress and turban, by then and there cutting its throat. When this was done, the bride withdrew her foot, and I made my bow, and the bride and bridegroom retired to their inner apartments.”

By the time the procession had quitted the gates of the zenāna, I was very glad to return to my own rooms to bathe preparatory to breakfast. I had eaten nothing during the night but cardamums and prepared betel-nut: had smoked a little of Colonel Gardner’s hooqŭ, and had drank nothing but tea. Mr. Gardner prepared some pān for me in a particular fashion: I ate it, and found it very refreshing. Pān, so universally eaten in India, is made of the leaf of the piper betel, a species of pepper plant, called pān supéarie and betel-nut; but this betel-nut is not the nut of the piper betel, but of the areca catechu, a palm fifty feet in height. The betel-nut is cut up in small bits and wrapped up in the pān-leaf with lime cuttie, which is a bitter gum resin, an astringent vegetable extract, the produce of a species of mimosa (chadira) catechu Japonica; called kuth by the natives, and some slaked lime, or chunā. Pān at marriage feasts is tied up in packets of a triangular shape, and covered with gold and silver leaf and enamelled foil of bright colours: the lime cuttie dyes the gums and tongue a deep red.

I was quite fresh and free from headache: had I sat up all night in England, where we eat supper, it would have made me ill. Colonel Gardner came in to breakfast, and kissing me on the forehead, said, “Mera betī (my child), you are less fatigued than any one.” The Prince lived with his bride at the tents for three days, after which they returned to Colonel Gardner’s to perform the final ceremony of playing the chāotree.