by Fanny Parkes
March 5th 1835 – Two letters having appeared in the Mofussil Akhbar, a provincial paper, Colonel Gardner published this answer:
‘To the Editor of the Mofussil Akhbar.
‘Dear Sir – In your paper of the 28th ultimo, just received, I find I have been unwillingly dragged from my obscurity by the author of “Sketches of Living Remarkable Characters in India“. This I should not have noticed, but for a mistake or two that it is my duty to correct. In the first place, it was Colonel Casement who ordered me and instructed me in his name to attempt the negotiation for the surrender of the garrison of Komalmair. I obeyed his order successfully, only demurring at the sum demanded, Rs 30,000, which, for so weak a garrison, I considered extravagant: but the resident Colonel Tod arrived at this stage of the business with superior diplomatic power. Colonel Casement was no longer consulted and my poor rushlight was hidden under a bushel. But who can feel anything against the author of such a splendid and correct work as Rajastan? The writer of the extract has probably mistaken Komalmair for the Fort of Rampoora where, under the instructions of Colonel Vauzemen, the negotiation for the evacuation was entirely entrusted to me; and, for the sum of Rs 7,000, a siege was prevented at a very advanced season of the year when, as General Ochterlony wrote to me, he would otherwise have been obliged to order the battering-train from Agra.
‘When I made my escape, as detailed, by swimming the Taptee, it was from the tender mercies of the gentle Brahman, our late pensioner Emurt Row’s force, by whom I was then in close confinement, and not from Holkar.
‘I fear I must divest my marriage with her highness the begum of a great part of its romantic attraction, by confessing that the young begum was only thirteen years of age when I first applied for and received her mother’s consent; and which marriage probably saved both their lives. Allow me to assure you, on the very best authority, that a Moslem lady’s marriage with a Christian is as legal in this country as if the ceremony had been performed by the Bishop of Calcutta; a point lately settled by my son’s marriage with the niece of the Emperor, the Nawāb Mulka Humanee Begum; and that the respectability of the females of my family amongst the natives of Hindustan has been settled by the Emperor many years ago, he having adopted my wife as his daughter; a ceremony satisfactorily repeated by the Queen, on a visit to my own house in Delhi. I can assure my partial sketcher that my only daughter died in 1804, and that my granddaughters, by the particular desire of their grandmother, are Christians. It was an act of her own, as by the marriage agreement the daughters were to be brought up in the religion of the mother; the sons in that of your
‘Very obedient, humble servant,
‘W. L. G.
Khasganj, 5th March, 1835.’
Colonel Tod, in a letter to the editor of the Asiatic Journal thus speaks of Colonel Gardner: ‘A day or two previous to this number (of your journal) being lent me, an intimate friend of Colonel Gardner’s spent the evening with me; and as it is almost impossible that any two men at all acquainted with his diversified life could talk of him without expressing a wish that he would become his own biographer – the subject being started, we mutually agreed that, qualified in every way as he is for the task, the result would be both interesting and instructive. Amongst other remarks, I observed that, although he was well known to me by character, and I had to bear testimony to the brave conduct of a part of his corps attached to me in 1817; the only time I ever had the pleasure of seeing him was the day following the surrender of Komulmér when he dined with me.
‘I trust your correspondent will proceed with the “sketches” and that the outline he has now furnished of Colonel Gardner’s history may stimulate the original to give, what no other can, his biography in full. Colonel Gardner is one of the many remarkable men who have passed a most extraordinary life, floating, as circumstance or “nuseeb” propelled, amidst the chaotic elements of Indian society, during the half-century preceding the halcyon days of 1818; when, by the vigorous mind and measures of the Marquess of Hastings peace, for the first time in its history, reigned from the Himalaya to Cape Comorin. Aristides was banished Athens!’
I greatly wished Colonel Gardner would consent to tell me the history of his remarkable life, which I was anxious to write down from his dictation. One evening he said, ‘Merā Betee, (my child) when in Holkar’s service, I was employed as an envoy to the Company’s forces under Lord Lake, with instructions to return within a certain time; my family remained in camp. Suspicion of treachery was caused by my lengthened absence, and accusations were brought forward against me at the darbār, held by Holkar on the third day following that on which my presence was expected. I rejoined the camp while the darbār was still assembled; on my entrance the Mahārāj, in an angry tone, demanded the reason of the delay; which I gave, pointing out the impossibility of a speedier return. Holkar exclaimed, in great anger, “Had you not returned this day, I would have levelled the khanāts of your tents.” I drew my sword instantly and attempted to cut his highness down, but was prevented by those around him; and ere they had recovered from the amazement and confusion caused by the attempt, I rushed from the tent, sprang upon my horse and was soon beyond reach of the pursuers.’
To account for Colonel Gardner’s indignation, it must be remembered that the khanāts are walls of canvas that surround the tents of the ladies of the zenāna; to have thrown down those screens, and to have exposed women within parda to the gaze of men, would have been an insult for which there could be no atonement. Colonel Gardner’s high spirit was as prompt to avenge the threat as it would have been willing to take the life of Holkar had he intruded on the privacy of the begum’s apartments.
Through the influence of friends, the Princess and her family were allowed, unmolested, to quit Holkar’s dominions and rejoin her husband.
The account Colonel Gardner gave me of his marriage with the begum was this: ‘When a young man, I was entrusted to negotiate a treaty with one of the native princes of Cambay. Darbārs and consultations were continually held; during one of the former, at which I was present, a parda curtain near me was gently moved aside and I saw, as I thought, the most beautiful black eyes in the world. It was impossible to think of the treaty; those bright and piercing glances, those beautiful dark eyes, completely bewildered me.
‘I felt flattered that a creature so lovely as she of those deep black, loving eyes must be, should venture to gaze upon me; to what danger might not the veiled beauty be exposed, should the movement of the parda be seen by any of those at the darbār. On quitting the assembly I discovered that the bright-eyed beauty was the daughter of the Prince. At the next darbār, my agitation and anxiety were extreme again to behold the bright eyes that had haunted my dreams by night, and my thoughts by day! The parda again was gently moved, and my fate was decided.
‘I demanded the Princess in marriage; her relations were at first indignant and positively refused my proposal; however, on mature deliberation, the ambassador was considered too influential a person to have a request denied and the hand of the young Princess was promised. The preparations for the marriage were carried forward; “Remember,” said I, “it will be useless to attempt to deceive me; I shall know those eyes again, nor will I marry any other.”
‘On the day of the marriage I raised the veil from the countenance of the bride, and in the mirror that was placed between us beheld the bright eyes that had bewildered me; I smiled – the young begum smiled also.’
Such was Colonel Gardner’s account of the first time he beheld his bride. Well might she smile when she gazed upon that noble countenance!
The Tomb of Colonel Hessing
March 15th – This beautiful mausoleum is in the Catholic burial ground at Agra and is well worthy a visit. It was built by a native architect, by name Lateef, in imitation of the ancient Mohammedan tombs. The material is the red stone from Fatehpur Sikri, which is highly carved but not inlaid. The tomb is beautiful, very beautiful and in excellent taste. Its cost is estimated at about one lakh of rup
ees. Lateef’s drawings of the Tāj and of all the ancient monuments around Agra are excellent; they cost from Rs 3–40 each. I bought a large collection of them, as well as of marbles and other curiosities. Lateef inlays marble with precious stones, after the style of the work in the Tāj. A chess-table of this sort, with a border of flowers in mosaic, costs from Rs 800– 1200, £80–120, and is beautifully executed.
March 16th – My affairs at Agra having come to a conclusion, and the pinnace, carriage and horses being on their way home, I once more turned my steps to Khasganj and arrived there dāk, accompanied by a friend, who was extremely anxious to see the marriage ceremony, although all that the eye of a man is permitted to behold is the tamāshā that takes place without the four walls. All that passes within is sacred.
On my arrival the whole party at Khasganj were going out to tents by the Ganges to hunt wild boars and otters, to shoot crocodiles, floriken, black partridge and other game. Even for people in good health it was, at that season of the year, a mad expedition and I declined going; I longed indeed to accompany them, but my cold and cough were so severe I was forced to give up the idea.
March 18th – My dear Colonel Gardner, seeing how ill I was, said, ‘You will never recover, my child, in the outer house: I will give you a room in the inner one and put you under the care of the begum; there you will soon recover.’ He took me over to the zenāna; the begum received me very kindly and appointed four of her slaves to attend upon me and aid my own women. They put me immediately into a steam-bath, shampooed, mulled and half-boiled me; cracked every joint after the most approved fashion, took me out, laid me on a golden-footed bed, gave me sherbet to drink, shampooed me to sleep and, by the time the shooting party returned from the Ganges, I had perfectly recovered and, was able to enter into all the amusement of seeing a Hindustani wedding.
I must here anticipate and remark that Suddu Khān, our excellent little khānsāmān, died in June 1841. He had been ill and unable to attend for months. There is a story that being in an hammām, he received some injury in the spine while being shampooed and joint-cracked by a barber, who placed his knee to his back and then forcibly brought his two arms backwards. The story says poor Suddu fainted and the barber was so much alarmed, he fled, and has never been seen since at Cawnpore, where the scene took place.
CHAPTER XXXV
THE MARRIAGE
TO DRESS ONE’S OWN DOLL
Spoken of a father who defrays the whole expense of his daughter’s marriage, her dress, ornaments, etc. without any charge to the bridegroom or his family.
HE WHO BUILDS A HOUSE AND TAKES A WIFE HEAPS SEVENTY AFFLICTIONS ON HIS HEAD
MARCH 18TH 1835 – 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., Lt-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 Linnaeus, Captain in the army; and, secondly, Frances, daughter of Samuel Holworthy, Esq., by whom he had another son, Valentine.
Colonel William Linnaeus Gardner married Nawāb Matmunzilool Nissa Begum Delmi and by her had two sons, Allan and James, and a daughter; the last mentioned died young.
Allan, the eldest son, married Bibi 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 Begum as she is called, is the one whose marriage is on the tapis.
James Gardner, the second son of Colonel William Linnaeus Gardner, married first Bibi 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 Begum and by her had four children, two sons and two daughters: Sulimān and William Linnaeus; Nashaba Begum, 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 Begum, 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 Begum, is engaged to Susan Gardner, as before-mentioned.
Colonel Gardner was exceedingly unwilling to allow of the marriage of his granddaughter with the young prince but the old begum, his wife, had set her heart upon it. He would rather have seen her married to a European gentleman; but the begum, 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 Begum, 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, 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 Rs 100 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 pukka Hindostāni!’ 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 begum 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 Mohammedan; 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 Begum, Mrs B— and Mr V—, went into tents four miles distant; while the bride’s party, consisting of Colonel Gardner, his begum, the bride and myself, remained at Khasganj. We had also, in the outer house, Mr Valentine Gardner, a party of English gentlemen, and the old Nawāb 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 three o’clock, Mulka Begum came in procession to bring the bride’s dress, which is a present from the bridegroom. The procession consisted of elephants, four-wheeled native carriages drawn by bullocks called raths, palanquins, led horses, etc.; 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 Begum came in a covered palanquin, screened from the gaze of men.