by Fanny Parkes
She never smoked, which surprised me: having seen the Musulmān ladies so fond of a huqqa, I concluded the Mahratta ladies indulged in the same luxury.
The Mahratta men smoke the huqqa as much as all other natives; and the Bāī had a recipe for making tobacco cakes that were highly esteemed in camp. The cakes are, in diameter, about four inches by one inch in thickness; a small quantity added to the prepared tobacco usually smoked in a huqqa imparts great fragrance; the ingredients are rather difficult to procure.
Speaking of the privations endured by Hindu widows, her Highness mentioned that all luxurious food was denied them as well as a bed; and their situation was rendered as painful as possible. She asked me how an English widow fared?
I told her, ‘An English lady enjoyed all the luxury of her husband’s house during his life; but on his death she was turned out of the family mansion, to make room for the heir, and pensioned off; whilst the old horse was allowed the run of the park, and permitted to finish his days amidst the pastures he loved in his prime.’ The Hindu widow, however young, must not marry again.
The fate of women and of melons is alike. ‘Whether the melon falls on the knife or the knife on the melon, the melon is the sufferer.’
We spoke of the severity of the laws of England with respect to married women, how completely by law they are the slaves of their husbands, and how little hope there is of redress.
You might as well ‘Twist a rope of sand’, or ‘Beg a husband of a widow’ as urge the men to emancipate the white slaves of England.
‘Who made the laws?’ said her Highness. I looked at her with surprise, knowing she could not be ignorant on the subject. ‘The men,’ said I; ‘why did the Mahārāj ask the question?’ ‘I doubted it,’ said the Bāī, with an arch smile, ‘since they only allow themselves one wife.’
‘England is so small,’ I replied, ‘in comparison with your Highness’s Gwalior; if every man were allowed four wives, and obliged to keep them separate, the little island could never contain them; they would be obliged to keep the women in vessels off the shore, after the fashion in which the Chinese keep their floating farmyards of ducks and geese at anchor.’
‘Is your husband angry with you?’ asked the Brija, the favourite attendant of her Highness. ‘Why should you imagine it?’ said I. ‘Because you have on no ornaments, no jewellery.’
The Bāiza Bāī sent for the wives of Appa Sāhib to introduce them to me. The ladies entered, six in number; and walking up to the gaddī, on which the Bāī was seated, each gracefully bowed her head, until her forehead touched the feet of her Highness. They were fine young women, from fifteen to twenty-five years old. The five first wives had no offspring; the sixth, who had been lately married, was in expectation of a bābā.
Appa Sāhib is the son-in-law of the ex-Queen; he married her daughter, the Chimna Bāī, who died of fever at the time they were driven out of Gwalior.
[ … ]
CHAPTER XXXIX
THE NAWĀB HAKĪM MENHDI AND THE CITY OF KANNAUJ
APRIL 15TH 1835 – I received an invitation to pay my respects to the Begum Moktar Mahal, the mother of the Nawāb of Fatehgar; she is connected with Mulka Begum’s family but very unlike her, having none of her beauty, and not being a ladylike person. Thence we went to the grandmother of the Nawāb, Surfuraz Mahal, in the same zenāna. They were in mourning for a death in the family and wept, according to dasturi (custom), all the time I was there: they were dressed in plain white attire with no ornaments; that is their mátim (mourning). The young Nawāb, who is about twelve years old, is a fine boy; ugly, but manly and well-behaved.
The Nawāb Moontuzim Adowlah Menhdi Ali Khān Bahādur, commonly called Nawāb Hakīm Menhdi, lives at Fatehgar; he was unwell and unable to call, but he sent down his stud to be shown to me, my fondness for horses having reached his ears.
April 22nd – I visited a manufactory for Indian shawls, lately established by the Hakīm to support some people who, having come from Kashmir, were in distress; and as they were originally shawl manufacturers, in charity he gave them employment. This good deed is not without its reward; three or four hundred workmen are thus supported; the wool is brought from Kashmir and the sale of the shawls gives a handsome profit. I did not admire them; they are manufactured to suit the taste of the English and are too heavy; but they are handsome and the patterns strictly Indian. Colonel Gardner’s begum said to me one day, at Khasganj, ‘Look at these shawls, how beautiful they are! If you wish to judge of an Indian shawl, shut your eyes and feel it; the touch is the test of a good one. Such shawls as these are not made at the present day in Kashmir; the English have spoiled the market. The shawls made now are very handsome, but so thick and heavy they are only fit for carpets, not for ladies’ attire.’
April 26th – The Nawāb Hakīm Menhdi called, bringing with him his son, a man about forty years of age, called the ‘General’. He invited me to pay him and the begum a visit, and wished to show me his residence.
April 29th – We drove to the Nawāb’s house, which is a good one; he received us at the door and took my arm, instead of giving me his. He is a fine-looking old man, older than Colonel Gardner, whom in style he somewhat resembles; his manners are distinguished and excellent. He wore an embroidered cap, with a silver muslin twisted like a cord and put around it, as a turban; it was very graceful, and his dress was of white muslin. The rooms of his house are most curious; more like a shop in the China bazaar, in Calcutta, than anything else; full of lumber, mixed with articles of value. Tables were spread all down the centre of the room, covered with most heterogeneous articles: round the room were glass cases, full of clocks, watches, sundials, compasses, guns, pistols, swords; every thing you can imagine might be found in these cases.
The Hakīm was making all due preparation for celebrating the Muharram in the most splendid style; he was a very religious man, and kept the fast with wonderful strictness and fortitude. A very lofty room was fitted up as a Taziya khāna, or house of mourning; from the ceiling hung chandeliers of glass of every colour, as thickly as it was possible to place them, all the length of the spacious apartment; and in this room several taziyas, very highly decorated, were placed in readiness for the ceremony. One of them was a representation of the Mausoleum of the Prophet at Medina; another the tomb of Hussein at Karbala; a third, that of Kāsim; and there was also a most splendid Burāk, a facsimile of the winged horse on which the Prophet made an excursion one night from Jerusalem to Heaven, and thence returned to Mecca. The angel Gabriel acted as celestial sā’is on the occasion, and brought the animal from the regions above. He must have been a fiery creature to control that winged horse; and the effect must have been more than picturesque, as the Prophet scudded along on a steed that had the eyes and face of a man, his ears long, his forehead broad, and shining like the moon; eyes of jet, shaped like those of a deer, and brilliant as the stars; the neck and breast of a swan, the loins of a lion, the tail and the wings of a peacock, the stature of a mule, and the speed of lightning – hence its name Burāk.
In front of the taziyas and the flying horse were a number of standards; some intended to be facsimiles of the banner (’alam) of Hussein; and others having the names of particular martyrs. The banners of Alī were denominated, ‘The Palm of the Hand of Alī the Elect’; ‘The Hand of the Lion of God’; ‘The Palm of the Displayer of Wonders’; and ‘The Palm of the Disperser of Difficulties’. Then there was the ‘Standard of Fatima’, the daughter of the Prophet and wife of Alī; also that of Abbās-i-’alam-dār, the standard-bearer; with those of Kāsim, Alī-akbar, and others; the banner of the twelve Imāms; the double-bladed sword of Alī; and the n’al-Sāhib. There was also the neza, a spear or lance dressed up with a turban, the ends flying in the air, and a lime fixed at the top of it; emblematic, it is said, of Hussein’s head, which was carried in triumph through different cities by the order of Yuzeed, the King of Shawm.
The n’al-Sāhib is a horseshoe affixed to the end of a long pole; it is ma
de of gold, silver, metals, wood, or paper, and is intended as an emblem of Hussein’s horse.
The ’Alam-i-Kāsim, or Standard of Kāsim the Bridegroom, is distinguished by its having a little chatr in gold or silver fixed on the top of it. All these things were collected in the long room in the house of the Nawāb, ready for the nocturnal perambulations of the faithful.
After the loss of the battle of Karbala, the family of Hussein were carried away captive with his son Zein-ool-Abaīdīn, the only male of the race of Alī who was spared, and they were sent to Medina. With them were carried the heads of the martyrs; and that of Hussein was displayed on the point of a lance, as the cavalcade passed through the cities. In consequence of the remonstrances and eloquence of Zein-ool-Abaīdīn, the orphan son of Hussein, the heads of the martyrs were given to him; and forty days after the battle they were brought back to Karbala and buried, each with its own body; the mourners then returned to Medina, visited the tomb of the Prophet, and all Medina eventually became subject to Zein-ool-Abaīdīn.
Alī, the son-in-law of Mohammed was, according to the Shī’as, the direct successor of the Prophet; they not acknowledging the other three caliphs; but, according to the Sunnīs, he was the fourth Khalifa, or successor of Mohammed.
The Muharram concludes on the fortieth day, in commemoration of the interment of the martyrs at Karbala, the name of a place in Iraq, on the banks of the Euphrates. At this place the army of Yuzeed, the King, was encamped; while the band of Hussein, including himself, amounting only to seventy-two persons, were on the other side of an intervening jungle, called Mareea.
The Nawāb is a very public-spirited man and does much good; he took me over a school he founded, and supports, for the education of native boys; showed me a very fine chīta (hunting leopard), and some antelopes which were kept for fighting. For the public benefit, he has built a bridge, a ghāt, and a sarāy, a resting-place for travellers; all of which bear his name.
The begum, having been informed that I was with the Nawāb, sent to request I would pay a visit to the zenāna, and a day was appointed in all due form.
May 3rd – The time having arrived, the Nawāb came to the house at which I was staying to pay me the compliment of escorting me to visit the begum. The Muharram having commenced, all his family were therefore in mourning, and could wear no jewels; he apologised that, in consequence, the begum could not be handsomely dressed to receive me. She is a pretty looking woman, but has none of the style of James Gardner’s begum; she is evidently in great awe of the Hakīm who rules, I fancy, with a rod of iron. The rooms in the zenāna are long and narrow, and supported by pillars on the side facing the enclosed garden, where three fountains played very refreshingly, in which golden fish were swimming. The begum appeared fond of the fish, and had some beautiful pigeons which came to be fed near the fountains; natives place a great value upon particular breeds of pigeons, especially those obtained from Lucknow, some of which bring a very high price. It is customary with rich natives to keep a number of pigeons; the man in charge of them makes them manoeuvre in the air by word of command, or rather by the motions of a long wand which he carries in his hand and with which he directs the flight of his pigeons; making them wheel and circle in the air, and ascend or descend at pleasure. The sets of pigeons consist of fifty, or of hundreds; and to fly your own in mock battle against the pigeons of another person is an amusement prized by the natives.
Several large glass cases were filled in the same curious manner as those before mentioned; and the upper panes of the windows were covered with English prints, some coloured and some plain. The Hakīm asked me if I did not admire them? There was Lord Brougham; also a number of prints of half-naked boxers sparring; Molineux and Tom Cribb, etc., in most scientific attitudes; divers characters of hunting celebrity; members of Parliament in profusion; and bright red and blue pictures of females as Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter: a most uncouth collection to be displayed around the walls of a zenāna! I was surprised to see pictures in the house of a man considered to be so religious as the Nawāb; because the Prophet said, ‘Every painter is in hellfire, and God will appoint a person at the day of resurrection, for every picture he shall have drawn, to punish him in hell. Then, if you must make pictures, make them of trees, and things without souls.’ ‘And whoever draws a picture will be punished, by ordering him to blow a spirit into it; and this he can never do; and so he will be punished as long as God wills.’
‘The angels do not enter the house in which is a dog, nor into that in which are pictures.’
I spent an hour in the zenāna talking to the old Nawāb; the begum scarcely ventured to speak. He took me over her flower garden, and made me promise I would never pass Fatehgar without paying him a visit. I told him that when the rains arrived, I should come up in the pinnace, having promised to revisit my relatives, when I should have the pleasure of seeing him and the begum again. He pressed me to stay and see the ceremonies of the Muharram; I regretted extremely I was obliged to return home, being very anxious to see the mourning festival celebrated in all state.
I happened to wear a ferronière on my forehead; it amused the begum very much, because it somewhat resembled the tīka worn by the women of the East.
His first begum, to whom he was much attached, died: he sent her body to Mekka: it went down at sea. This was reckoned a great misfortune and an omen of ill luck. Four years afterwards he married the present begum, who was slave girl to the former.
Between the pauses in conversation the Nawāb would frequently have recourse to his rosary, repeating, I suppose, the ninety-nine names of God, and meditating on the attributes of each. In the Qanoon-e-islam it is mentioned, ‘To read with the use of a tusbeeh (or rosary) is meritorious; but it is an innovation, since it was not enjoined by the Prophet (the blessing and peace of God be with him!) or his companions, but established by certain mushaeks (or divines). They use the chaplet in repeating the kulma (confession of faith) or durood (blessing), one, two, or more hundred times.’ On the termination of my visit to the zenāna, the Nawāb re-escorted me to the house of the friend with whom I was staying.
For the first time, I saw today a person in a burkā walking in the street; it was impossible to tell whether the figure was male or female; the long swaggering strut made me suppose the former. A pointed crown was on the top of the head, from which ample folds of white linen fell to the feet, entirely concealing the person. Before the eyes were two holes, into which white net was inserted; therefore the person within could see distinctly, while even the colour of the eyes was not discernible from without. The burkā-posh, or person in the burkā, entered the house of the Nawāb. The dress afterwards was sent me to look at, and a copy of it was taken for me by my darzee (tailor). It is often worn by respectable women who cannot afford to go out in a palanquin, or in a dolī.
The Hakīm was fond of writing notes in English, some of which were curious. When the office of Commissioner was done away with, he thought the gentleman who held the appointment would be forced to quit Fatehgar. The old Hakīm wrote a singular note, in which was this sentence: ‘As for the man who formed the idea of doing away with your appointment, my dear friend, may God blast him under the earth.’ However, as the gentleman remained at Fatehgar and the Government bestowed an appointment equally good upon him, the Hakīm was satisfied. On my return to Allahabad, he wrote to me and desired me ‘not to bury his friendship and affection in oblivion’.
May 4th – Paid a farewell visit to her Highness the ex-Queen of Gwalior, in the Mahratta Camp, and quitted Fatehgar dāk for Allahabad. A brain fever would have been the consequence, had I not taken shelter during the day, as the hot winds were blowing and the weather intensely oppressive; therefore I only travelled by night, and took refuge during the day.
May 5th – I stopped during the day at the house of a gentleman at Mehndī Ghāt, which was built by the Nawāb, as well as the sarāy at Naramhow, which also bears his name. From this place I sent to Kannauj for a quantity of ch
ūrīs, i.e., rings made of sealing-wax, very prettily ornamented with gold foil, beads, and colours: the old woman, who brought a large basketful for sale, put a very expensive set on my arms; they cost four ānās, or three pence! The price of a very pretty set is two ānās. My host appeared surprised; he must have thought me a Pukka Hindustanī. Kannauj is famed for the manufacture of chūrīs. I wore the bracelets for two days, and then broke them off because the sealing-wax produced a most annoying irritation of the skin.
May 6th – I spent the heat of the day with some kind friends at Cawnpore, and the next dāk brought me to Fatehpur. The day after, I spent the sultry hours in the dāk bungalow at Shāhzād-poor; and the following morning was very glad to find myself at home, after my long wanderings. The heat at times in the pālkee was perfectly sickening. I had a small thermometer with me which, at ten o’clock, often stood at 93°; and the sides of the palanquin were hot as the sides of an oven. The fatigue also of travelling so many nights was very great; but it did me no harm.
I found Allahabad greatly altered; formerly it was a quiet station, it had now become the seat of the Agra Government and Mr Blunt, the Lieutenant-Governor, was residing there. I had often heard Colonel Gardner speak in high praise of this gentleman who was a friend of his. My time was now employed in making and receiving visits, and going to parties.
May 13th – At the house of Mr F— I met the Austrian traveller, Baron H—; he requested to be allowed to call on me the next day to see my collection of curiosities. He pronounced them very good and promised to send me some idols to add to them. I gave him a set of Hindu toe-rings, the sacred thread of the Brahmans, and a rosary, every bead of which was carved with the name of the god Rām. Men were deceivers ever; the promised idols were never added to my collection. The Lieutenant-Governor’s parties, which were very agreeable, rendered Allahabad a very pleasant station.