Begums, Thugs and White Mughals

by Fanny Parkes

  General M— was wounded in the assault and obliged to retire; it was fortunate for his memory he was an actor in one scene of gallantry, for his after-conduct gave rise to a song that is known to every sipahī in the service.

  Hathi par howda

  Ghore par zīn

  Jaldí bhāgīya

  Gen’ral Monsīn.

  The English lowered the walls of the fort, but left one small portion standing to show their great original height. The fort formerly had but one entrance, which opened on the ditch; the English built another gate on the opposite side and another bridge across the ditch; the place was kept in repair for a short time but is now in ruins. Within the fort, on the right, is a model of the ground plan. I only regret I cannot very well remember all that was told me at the time in the most animated manner by Major Sutherland who, himself a distinguished officer, was greatly interested in the Fort of Aligarh.

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  January 31st – Encamped at Bulandsher; quitted the good Delhi road to turn to Meerut; the wind very high and miserably cold, the sand flying like dust, covering every thing in the tent and filling my eyes. The servants annoyed me by disobeying orders; the food was bad – the Arab’s saddle wrung his back – everything went wrong. What a distance I have marched! How generally barren, flat and uninteresting the country has been! I saw a very fine banyan tree a day or two ago, but the general face of the country is a sandy plain, interspersed with a few green fields near the wells, and topes of mango trees: in one of these topes my tent is pitched today. My beautiful dog Nero is dead. What folly in this climate to be fond of anything! It is sure to come to an untimely end.

  [ … ]

  February 4th – Arrived at Meerut, pitched my tents in the Compound, i.e. the grounds around the house.

  February 6th – The Governor-General and the Camp arrived.

  February 7th – Attended a ball given by the officers of the artillery to the Governor-General; Lord Auckland and the Misses Eden were gracious, and had I not been suffering from illness, I should have enjoyed the party.

  February 9th – Drove to the Sūraj Kūnd, or Spring of the Sun, a remarkably large tank; a little further on are a great number of satī mounds of peculiar construction. In the evening attended a ball, given by the station to the Governor-General and his party.

  February 12th – Dined with General and Mrs R— to meet the Governor-General and his party; the dinner was given in one great tent, which held eighty guests at table. In the evening the party went to a ball given by the Buffs to the Governor-General; the room was gay and well-lighted, ornamented with rays of steel, formed of bayonets and ramrods; a sort of throne was decorated with the colours of the regiment for the Governor-General. The dancing was carried on with spirit; the finale an excellent supper.

  Mr W— invited me to Lahore to witness the meeting of the GovernorGeneral and Ranjit Singh. I promised to accept the invitation if in that part of the world in November, but I fear I shall be far distant. Captain O— sent me three Italian greyhound pups; they dart about in the most amusing manner. I hope the little delicate creatures will live. Wishing to view the ruins of Delhi, I sent off my tents one march to await me. In the evening I went to the theatre, to see the performance of the privates of the artillery. The men built their own theatre, painted their own scenes and are themselves the performers. The scenery is excellent, the house crowded; the men acted remarkably well; and the ladies, strapping artillery men, six feet high, were the cause of much laughter. A letter from Allahabad informed me, ‘the 12th of January was one of the great bathing days, the river and its banks were covered with the pilgrims; for days and days we saw them passing in one almost continued line, very few rich people amongst them, principally the lower orders. There is no tax now levied by the Government, but an officer is sent down with a guard as usual. There was a storm in the morning, and the rain had been pouring ever since. The poor creatures now on their way in thousands for tomorrow’s bathing will suffer dreadfully, and all their tamāshā be spoiled.’

  CHAPTER XLVII

  RUINS OF DELHI

  VEDI NAPOLI, E POI MORI

  FEBRUARY 1838 – With the Neapolitan saying ‘Vedi Napoli, e poi mori’, I beg leave to differ entirely, and would rather offer this advice – ‘See the Tāj Mahal, and then – see the Ruins of Delhi.’ How much there is to delight the eye in this bright, this beautiful world! Roaming about with a good tent and a good Arab, one might be happy for ever in India: a man might possibly enjoy this sort of life more than a woman; he has his dog, his gun and his beaters, with an open country to shoot over, and is not annoyed with ‘I’ll thank you for your name, Sir.’ I have a pencil instead of a gun, and believe it affords me satisfaction equal, if not greater, than the sportsman derives from his Manton.

  On my return from the theatre I sought my chārpāī, and slept – Oh, how soundly! – was dressed and on my horse by six o’clock, having enjoyed four hours and a half of perfect rest. ‘Sleep is the repose of the soul.’ I awoke from my slumber perfectly refreshed and my little soul was soon cantering away on the back of an Arab, enjoying the pure, cool, morning breeze. Oh! the pleasure of vagabondising over India!

  February 16th – We rode part of the distance and drove the remainder of the march, sixteen miles; found the tents ready, and the khidmatgārs on the look out. Took a breakfast such as hungry people eat, and then retired to our respective tents. The fatigue was too much; the novel dropped from my hand, and my sleepy little soul sank to repose for some hours.

  When the sun was nearly down, we roamed over the fields with the gentlemen and their guns, but found no game. Thus passed the day of the first march on the road to Delhi at Begumabad.

  February 17th – Arrived early at Furrudnagar, another long distance; a high wind, clouds of dust, and a disagreeable day. During the night the servants were robbed of all their brass lotas and cooking utensils. A thief crept up to my camels, that were picketed just in front of the tent, selected the finest, cut the rope and strings from his neck; then, having fastened a very long thin rope to the animal, away crept the thief. Having got to the end of the line, the thief gave the string a pull, and continued doing so until he rendered the camel uneasy; the animal got up – another pull – he turned his head, another – and he quietly followed the twitching of the cord that the thief held, who succeeded in separating him from the other camels and got him some twenty yards from the tent; just at this moment the sentry observed the camel quietly departing, he gave the alarm, the thief fled and the animal was brought back to the camp – a few yards more the thief would have been on his back and we should have lost the camel.

  February 18th – Marched into Delhi: the first sight of the city from the sands of the Jumna is very imposing; the fort, the palace, the mosques and minarets, all crowded together on the bank of the river, is a beautiful sight. ‘In the year of the Hijerah, 1041 (AD1631–2), the Emperor Shāhjahān founded the present city and palace of Shāhjahānabad, which he made his capital during the remainder of his reign. The new city of Shāhjahānabad lies on the western bank of the Jumna, in latitude 28° 36' North. The city is about seven miles in circumference and is surrounded on three sides by a wall of brick and stone; a parapet runs along the whole, but there are no cannon planted on the ramparts. The city has seven gates: viz., Lahore Gate, Delhi Gate, Ajimere Gate, Turkoman Gate, Moor Gate, Kabul Gate, Kashmir Gate; all of which are built of freestone and have handsome arched entrances of stone, where the guards of the city kept watch.’

  We entered the town by the Delhi Gate: during the rains, when the river flows up to and by the walls of the city, the view from a boat must be beautiful; at present the river is shallow, with a great sandbank in the centre. We crossed a bridge of boats and encamped in front of the church.

  The church was built by Colonel Skinner, planned by Colonel S—; I do not like the design: it was put into execution by Captain D—. The dome appears too heavy for the body of the church, and in the inside it is obliged to be
supported by iron bars – a most unsightly affair. A man should visit the ruins of Gaur, and there learn how to build a dome ere he attempt it. Colonel Skinner is a Christian; the ladies of his family are Musalmāns, and for them he has built a mosque opposite the church. In the churchyard is the tomb of Mr William Frazer, who was murdered by the Nawāb Shumsheodin: Colonel Skinner has erected a monument to the memory of his friend; it is of white marble, in compartments, which are inlaid with green stones, representing the weeping willow; the whole was executed at Jaipur, and cost, it is said, Rs 10,000. On the top is a vase, and, in a compartment in front of the church is a Persian inscription. Below are these lines, and in front of the lines are two lions reposing: to none but an Irishman would it be clear that the us in the epitaph proceeds from the lions:

  Deep beneath this marble stone

  A kindred spirit to our own

  Sleeps in death’s profound repose,

  Freed from human cares and woes;

  Like us his heart, like ours his frame,

  He bore on earth a gallant name.

  Friendship gives to us the trust

  To guard the hero’s honour’d dust.

  On the other side the monument is another inscription, also written by Colonel Skinner.

  THE REMAINS

  INTERRED BENEATH THIS MONUMENT

  WERE ONCE ANIMATED

  BY AS BRAVE AND SINCERE

  A SOUL

  AS WAS EVER VOUCHSAFED TO MAN

  BY HIS

  CREATOR!

  A BROTHER IN FRIENDSHIP

  HAS CAUSED IT TO BE ERECTED,

  THAT, WHEN HIS OWN FRAME IS DUST,

  IT MAY REMAIN

  AS A

  MEMORIAL

  FOR THOSE WHO CAN PARTICIPATE IN LAMENTING

  THE SUDDEN AND MELANCHOLY LOSS

  OF ONE

  DEAR TO HIM AS LIFE.

  WILLIAM FRAZER

  DIED MARCH 22ND, 1835.

  In the evening the brother of the Bāiza Bāī, Hindu Rāo, sent me an elephant, and Colonel Skinner sent another; on these we mounted and went through all the principal streets of the city. Dehlī or Dillī, the metropolis of Hindustan, is generally called by Musulmāns Shāhjahānābād and, by Europeans, Delhi. The Chāndnī Chauk, a very broad and handsome street, is celebrated; it has a canal that runs through and down the centre of it; but such is the demand for water, that not a drop now reaches Delhi, it being drawn off for the irrigation of the country, ere it arrive at the city. This fine stream is called Nahr-i-Bihisht, or ‘Canal of Paradise’. ‘In the reign of Shāh-jahān, Ali Merdan Khān, a nobleman, dug, at his own expense, a canal, from the vicinity of the city of Panniput, near the head of the Doo-ab, to the suburbs of Delhi – a tract of ninety miles in extent. This noble canal is called by the natives the ‘Canal of Paradise’, and runs from north to south, in general about ten miles distant from the Jumna, until it joins that river nine miles below the city of New Delhi: it yielded formerly fourteen lakh of rupees per annum. At present it is out of repair, and in many places almost destroyed.’

  As we went round the Jáma Masjid, a fine mosque, I thought of the words of the Prophet – ‘Masjids are the gardens of Paradise, and the praises of God the fruit thereof.’ On the high flight of steps leading to the mosque were hundreds of people in gay dresses, bargaining for cloth, sweetmeats, etc.

  The inhabitants of Delhi appear to delight in dresses of the gayest colours, and picturesque effect is added to every scene by their graceful attire. Native gentlemen of rank, attended by large sawārīs (retinues) on horseback, on elephants or on camels, are met at every turn, rendering the scene very amusing and animated. Nevertheless, in spite of all this apparent splendour, a proverb is used to express the vanity and indigence prevalent in that city: ‘Dillī ke dilwālī munh chiknā pet khālī;’ ‘The inhabitants of Dillī appear to be opulent when, in fact, they are starving.’ A little beyond the Jáma Masjid is the wall of the palace – a most magnificent wall; I was delighted with it and its gateways. Shortly afterwards we turned our elephants towards the tents and returned, considerably fatigued, to dinner.

  February 19th – This morning we had decided on visiting the tomb of Humaioon but, on mounting our horses, hearing firing at a distance, we rode off to see what amusement was going forward, leaving the visit to the tomb for another day. It was lucky we did so, I would not on any account have missed the scene. We galloped away to save time, and found Lord Auckland and his party at a review; after looking at the review a short time Captain S—, himself an engineer, took me to see a very interesting work: the sappers and miners had erected a mud-fort; trenches were regularly formed in front of the fort to cover the attacking party, and mines were formed underground to a considerable distance. We walked through the long galleries, which were all lighted up, and Captain S— explained the whole to me. On our return, Lord Auckland came up, examined the fort, and walked through the miners’ galleries. The attack commenced, the great guns blazed away at the bastion which was blown up in good style by the miners; the soldiers mounted the breach and took the fort whilst, on the right, it was scaled by another party. This mimic war was very animated; I like playing at soldiers and it gave me an excellent idea of an attack, without the horror of the reality: another mine was sprung and the warfare ended. The sun was high and very hot – we rode home as fast as our horses could carry us – only stopping on the top of a rocky hill near the late Mr Frazer’s house to admire the view of Delhi, which lay below a mass of minarets and domes, interspersed with fine trees. Near this spot Mr Frazer was shot. The house was bought by Hindu Rāo for Rs 20,000. Out of this rocky hill a sort of red gravel is dug, which forms the most beautiful roads.

  After breakfast we struck our tents and came to stay with a friend, who has a fine house in beautiful grounds, with a garden filled to profusion with the gayest flowers, situated just beyond the Kashmir Gate of the city. Colonel Edward Smith, of the engineers, deserves great credit for the style and good taste he has displayed in the architecture of this gate of Delhi, and for several other buildings which were pointed out to me as of his design in other parts of the city. We found the tents very hot within the walls, with flies innumerable, like the plague of Egypt; at least, they must be quite as bad during the hot season. In the evening we went to a ball, given by Mr Metcalfe to the Governor-General and his party.

  February 20th – The ball gave me a headache, and I was suffering a good deal of pain when a native lady came to see me on the part of the Nawāb Shāh Zamānee Begum, the Emperor’s unmarried sister, from whom she brought a complimentary message and a request that I would call upon her at the palace. The lady, finding me in pain, most kindly shampooed and mulled my forehead so delightfully that my headache was charmed away – shampooing is the great luxury of the East.

  Mausoleum of Humaioon

  In the evening we drove through the ruins of old Delhi to the tomb of the Emperor Humaioon. The drive is most interesting; you cannot turn your eye in any direction but you are surrounded by ruins of the most picturesque beauty. The tomb of Humaioon is a fine massive building, well worth visiting: it is kept in good repair. There are several monuments within the chambers of the mausoleum that are of carved white marble. The tomb of the Emperor is very plain and without any inscription. On the terrace is a very elegant white marble monument, richly carved, of peculiar construction, over the remains of a begum. The different and extensive views from the terrace over the ruins of old Delhi are very beautiful.

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  Masjid of Roshan-ool-Dowla.

  We observed with great interest the gilded domes of the mosque of Roshanool-Dowla, at one end of the Chandnī Chauk; it is of the common size, built of red stone, and surmounted by three domes. The King of Persia took Delhi, in AD 1739. Nādir Shāh, on hearing of a tumult that broke out in the great marketplace, in which two thousand Persians were slain, marched out at night with his men as far as this Masjid; here he thought it prudent to halt until daylight. When daylight beg
an to appear, a person from a neighbouring terrace fired upon the king and killed an officer by his side. Nādir Shāh was so much enraged that although the tumult had by this time totally subsided, he sent out his soldiers and ordered a general massacre of the inhabitants. This order was executed with so much rigour that before two o’clock above one hundred thousand, without distinction of age, sex, or condition, lay dead in their blood, although not above one-third part of the city was visited by the sword. Nādir Shāh sat during this dreadful scene in the Masjid of Roshan-ool-Dowla; none but slaves dared approach him. At length the unfortunate Emperor of Delhi, attended by a number of his chief omrah, ventured before him with downcast eyes. The omrah, who preceded the king, bowed their foreheads to the ground. Nādir Shāh sternly asked them what they wanted? They cried out with one voice, ‘Spare the city.’ Mohammed said not a word, but the tears flowed fast from his eyes. The tyrant, for once touched with pity, sheathed his sword and said, ‘For the sake of the prince Mohammed I forgive.’ The massacre was instantly stopped.

  Since that dreadful carnage, this quarter of Delhi has been but very thinly inhabited.

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  CHAPTER XLVIII

  ANCIENT DELHI – THE ZENĀNA GHAR