THE MAHRATTA CAMP AND SCENES IN THE ZENĀNA.
Mutiny in Camp—Murder of the Prisoners—The Mutiny quelled by
the Military—Visit to the Zenāna—The Swing of the Gaja Rājā—The
Seagull in Parda—The Bā’ī visits the Pinnace—How to dress a
Camel—The vicious Beast—Lucky and Unlucky Days—Her Highness
ordered to Benares.
1835, _Sept. 8th._—A deputation arrived from her Highness the Bāiza
Bā’ī, claiming protection from the Agent to the Government, on account
of a mutiny in her camp. She was fearful of being murdered, as her house
was surrounded by three hundred and fifty mutinous soldiers, armed with
matchlocks and their palitas ready lighted. The mutineers demanded seven
months pay; and finding it was not in her power to give it to them, they
determined to have recourse to force, and seized her treasurer, her
paymaster, and four other officers. These unfortunate men they had made
prisoners for seven days, keeping them secured to posts and exposed the
whole day to the sun, and only giving them a little sherbet to drink. The
Agent to the Government having called out the troops, marched down with
them to the Mahratta Camp, where they seized the guns.
The mutineers would not come to terms, or lay down their arms. The troops
spent the night in the Camp; at daybreak they charged into the zenāna
compound, killed eight mutineers, and wounded nine: the guns were fired
at the Mahratta horsemen, who were outside; after which the men laid down
their arms, and tranquillity was restored.
The magistrate of the station, who had gone in with the troops, was
engaged with two of the mutineers, when all three fell into a well; a
Mahratta from above having aimed his spear at him, an officer struck the
weapon aside and killed the assailant; the spear glanced off and only
inflicted a slight wound. The moment Colonel J⸺ charged the mutineers in
the zenāna compound, they murdered their prisoners, the treasurer and the
paymaster, in cold blood; the other four officers escaped in the tumult.
The greater part of her Highness’s troops being disaffected, they could
not be trusted to quell the mutiny; she was therefore compelled to ask
for assistance. It was feared her troops, which amounted to eighteen
hundred, might attempt to plunder the city and station, and be off to
Gwalior; and there being only two hundred of the Company’s troops, and
three guns at Fathīghar, the military were sent for from other stations,
and a large body of police called out. The Bāiza Bā’ī despatched a lady
several times to say she wished me to visit her; this was during the time
she was a prisoner in her house, surrounded by the mutineers with their
matches lighted. The agent for the Government would not allow me to go,
lest they should seize and keep me a prisoner with the Bā’ī’s officers. I
was therefore obliged to send word I could not obey the commands of her
Highness on that account.
Emissaries from Gwalior are at the bottom of all this. The camp was in
great ferment yesterday: it would be of no consequence, if we had a few
more troops at the station; but two hundred infantry are sad odds against
eighteen hundred men, one thousand of whom are horsemen; and they have
three guns also.
_17th._—Infantry have come in from Mynpooree and cavalry from Cawnpore,
therefore every thing is safe in case the Mahrattas should mutiny again.
_24th._—The Governor-General’s agent allowed me to accompany him to the
camp. He took some armed horsemen from the police as an escort in case
of disturbance. The Bāiza Bā’ī received me most kindly, as if I were an
old friend. I paid my respects, and almost immediately quitted the room,
as affairs of state were to be discussed. The Gaja Rājā took me into a
pretty little room, which she had just built on the top of the house as
a sleeping-room for herself. Her charpāī (bed) swung from the ceiling;
the feet were of gold, and the ropes by which it swung were covered with
red velvet and silver bands. The mattress, stuffed with cotton, was
covered with red and blue velvet: the cases of three large pillows were
of gold and red kimkhwab; and there were a number of small flat round
pillows covered with velvet. The counterpane was of gold and red brocade.
In this bed she sleeps, and is constantly swung during her repose. She
was dressed in black gauze and gold, with a profusion of jewellery, and
some fresh flowers I had brought for her were in her hair. She invited
me to sit on the bed, and a lady stood by swinging us. The Gaja Rājā has
a very pretty figure, and looked most fairy-like on her decorated bed.
When the affairs of state had been settled, we returned to the Bā’ī.
Rose-water, pān, and atr of roses having been presented, I took my leave.
_28th._—I was one of a party who paid a visit of state to her Highness.
Nothing remarkable occurred. As we were on the point of taking our
departure, the Bā’ī said she had heard of the beauty of my pinnace, and
would visit it the next morning. This being a great honour, I said I
would be in attendance, and would have the vessel anchored close to the
Bā’ī’s own ghāt, at which place she bathes in the holy Ganges. On my
return home, a number of people were set hard to work, to fit the vessel
for the reception of the Bā’ī. Every thing European was removed, tables,
chairs, &c. The floors of the cabins were covered with white cloth, and a
gaddī placed in each for her Highness.
_29th._—The vessel was decorated with a profusion of fresh flowers; she
was drawn up to the ghāt, close to a flight of steps; and the canvas
walls of tents were hung around her on every side, so that no spectators
could see within. The sailors all quitted her, and she was then ready to
receive the ladies of the Mahratta camp. Although I was at the spot at 4
A.M., the Bā’ī and hundreds of her followers were there before me. She
accompanied me on board with all her ladies, and on seeing such a crowd
in the vessel, asked if the numbers would not sink her. The Bā’ī admired
the pinnace very much; and observing the satī, which stood in one corner
of the cabin, covered with flowers, I informed her Highness I had brought
the headless figure to _eat the air_ on the river; that Ganges water
and flowers were daily offered her; that her presence was fortunate, as
it brought an easterly wind. The Bā’ī laughed; and, after conversing
for an hour, she quitted the vessel, and returned to her apartment on
the ghāt. The Gaja Rājā and her ladies went into the inner cabin; Appa
Sāhib, the Bā’ī’s son-in-law, came on board with his followers, the
vessel was unmoored, and they took a sail on the river. The scene was
picturesque. Some hundreds of Mahratta soldiers were dispersed in groups
on the high banks amongst the trees; their elephants, camels, horses,
and native carriages standing near the stone ghāts, and by the side of
white temples. The people from the city were there in crowds to see
what was going forward. On our return from the excursion on the river,
I accompanied the Gaja Rājā to the Bā’ī; and, having made my salām,
returned home, not a little fatigued with the exertion of amusing my
guests. During the time we were on the water, Appa Sāhib played various
Hindostanee and Mahratta airs on the sitar. It must have been a great
amusement to the zenāna ladies, quite a gaiety for them, and a variety
in their retired mode of life. They were all in their holiday dresses,
jewels, and ornaments. Some wore dresses of bright yellow, edged with
red, with black Cashmere shawls thrown over their shoulders; this costume
was very picturesque. The Gaja Rājā wore a dress of black and gold, with
a yellow satin tight body beneath it; _enormous_ pearls in profusion,
ornaments of gold on her arms, and silver ornaments on her ankles and
toes; slippers of crimson and gold.
_Oct. 2nd._—The Ganges at Farrukhabad is so full of sandbanks, and so
very shallow, that fearing if I detained the pinnace, I might have some
chance of being unable to get her down to Cawnpore, I sent her off with
half the servants to that place to await my arrival; I shall go dāk in a
palanquin, and the rest of the people can float down in the cook boat.
_7th._—I called on the Bā’ī; and while she was employed on state affairs,
retired with the Gaja Rājā to the pretty little room before mentioned.
There I found a Hindoo idol, dressed in cloth of gold, and beads,
lying on the floor on a little red and purple velvet carpet. Two other
idols were in niches at the end of the room. The idol appeared to be a
plaything, a doll: I suppose, it had not been rendered sacred by the
Brahmans. An idol is of no value until a Brahman dip it, with divers
prayers and ceremonies, into the Gunga; when this ceremony has been
performed, the spirit of the particular deity represented by the figure
enters the idol. This sort of baptism is particularly expensive, and a
source of great revenue to the Brahmans. The church dues fall as heavily
on the poor Hindoo, as on the people of England; nevertheless, the heads
of the Hindoo church do not live in luxury like the Bishops.
The fakīr, who from a religious motive, however mistaken, holds up both
arms, until they become withered and immovable, and who, being, in
consequence, utterly unable to support himself, relies in perfect faith
on the support of the Almighty, displays more religion than the man, who,
with a salary of £8000 per annum, leaves the work to be done by curates,
on a pittance of £80 a year.
The Gaja Rājā requested me to teach her how to make tea, she having been
advised to drink it for her health; she retired, changed her dress,
returned, took her tea, and complained of its bitter taste.
“I am told you dress a camel beautifully,” said the young Princess; “and
I was anxious to see you this morning, to ask you to instruct my people
how to attire a sawārī camel.” This was flattering me on a very weak
point: there is but one thing in the world that I _perfectly_ understand,
and that is, how to dress a camel.
“I hope you do not eat him when you have dressed him!” said an English
gentleman.
My relative had a fine young camel, and I was not happy until I had
superintended the making the attire, in which he—the camel, not the
gentleman—looked beautiful! The Nawāb Hakīm Menhdī, having seen the
animal, called, to request he might have similar trappings for his own
sawārī camel; and the fame thereof having reached the Mahratta camp,
my talents were called into play. I promised to attend to the wishes of
the Gaja Rājā; and, returning home, summoned twelve mochīs, the saddlers
of India, natives of the Chamār caste, to perform the work. Whilst one
of the men smokes the nārjīl (cocoa-nut pipe), the remainder will work;
but it is absolutely necessary that each should have his turn every
half-hour, no smoke,—no work.
Five hundred small brass bells of melodious sound; two hundred larger
ditto, in harmony, like hounds well matched, each under each; and one
large bell, to crown the whole; one hundred large beads of imitative
turquoise; two snow-white tails of the cow of Thibet; some thousands of
cowries, many yards of black and of crimson cloth, and a number of very
long tassels of red and black worsted. The mochīs embroidered the attire
for three days, and it was remarkably handsome. The camel’s clothing
being ready, it was put into a box, and the Gaja Rājā having appointed an
hour, I rode over, taking it with me, at 4 A.M.
In the court-yard of the zenāna, I found the Bā’ī, and all her ladies;
she asked me to canter round the enclosure, the absurdity of sitting on
one side a horse being still an amusing novelty.
The Bā’ī’s riding horses were brought out; she was a great equestrian
in her youthful days, and, although she has now given up the exercise,
delights in horses. The ladies relate, with great pride, that, in one
battle, her Highness rode at the head of her troops, with a lance in her
hand, and her infant in her arms!
A very vicious, but large and handsome camel was then brought in by
the female attendants; he knelt down, and they began putting the gay
trappings upon him; his nose was tied to his knee, to prevent his
injuring the girls around him, whom he attempted to catch hold of,
showing his great white teeth; if once the jaw of a camel closes upon
you, he will not relinquish his hold. You would have supposed they were
murdering, not dressing the animal; he groaned and shouted as if in
great pain, it was piteous to hear the beast; and laughable, when you
remembered it was the “dastūr;” they always groan and moan when any load
is placed on their backs, however light. When the camel’s toilet was
completed, a Mahratta girl jumped on his back, and made him go round the
enclosure at a capital rate; the trappings were admired, and the bells
pronounced very musical.
They were eager I should mount the camel; I thought of Theodore Hook.
“The hostess said, ‘Mr. Hook, will you venture upon an orange?’ ‘No,
thank you, Ma’am, I’m afraid I should tumble off.’” _C’est beau çà, n’est
pas?_ I declined the elevated position offered me, for the same reason.
The finest young sawārī camels, that have never been debased by carrying
any burthen greater than two or three Persian cats, are brought down
in droves by the Arabs from Cabul; one man has usually charge of three
camels; they travel in single file, the nose of one being attached to the
crupper of another by a string passed through the cartilage. They browse
on leaves in preference to grazing. It was a picturesque scene, that
toilet of the camel, performed by the Mahratta girls, and they enjoyed
the tamāshā.
I mentioned my departure was near at hand; the Bā’ī spoke of her beloved
Gwalior, and did me the honour to invite me to pay my respects there,
should she ever be replaced on the gaddī. She desired I would pay a
farewell visit to the camp three days afterwards. After the distribution,
as usual, of betel leaves, spices, atr of roses, and the sprinkling with
rose-water, I made my salām. Were I an Asiatic, I would be a Mahratta.
The Mahrattas never transact business on an unlucky day; Tuesday is an
unfortunate day, and the Bā’ī, who was to have held a durbār, put it
off in consequence. She sent for me, it being the day I was to take
leave of her; I found her looking grave and thoughtful, and her sweet
smile was very sad. She told me the Court of Directors had sent orders
that she was to go and live at Benares, or in the Deccan; that she was
to quit Fathīghar in one month’s time, and should she refuse to do so,
the Governor-General’s agent was to take her to Benares by force, under
escort of troops that had been sent to Fathīghar for that purpose. The
Bā’ī was greatly distressed, but spoke on the subject with a command
of temper, and a dignity that I greatly admired. “What must the Mahāraj
do? Cannot this evil fate be averted? Must she go to Benares? Tell us,
Mem sāhiba, what must we do?” said one of the ladies in attendance. Thus
called upon, I was obliged to give my opinion; it was an awkward thing to
tell an exiled Queen she must submit,—“The cudgel of the powerful must be
obeyed[12].” I hesitated; the Bā’ī looked at me for an answer. Dropping
the eyes of perplexity on the folded hands of despondency, I replied to
the Brija, who had asked the question, “Jiska lāthī ooska bhains,”—_i.e._
“He who has the stick, his is the buffalo[13]!” The effect was electric.
The Bāiza Bā’ī and the Gaja Rājā laughed, and I believe the odd and
absurd application of the proverb half reconciled the Mahāraj to her fate.
I remained with her Highness some time, talking over the severity of the
orders of Government, and took leave of her with great sorrow; the time I
had before spent in the camp had been days of amusement and gaiety; the
last day, the unlucky Tuesday, was indeed ill-starred, and full of misery
to the unfortunate and amiable ex-Queen of Gwalior.