Monday, Dec. 24, 1838.
The Maharajah is ill--he has cold and fever--so all parties, &c., are
put off. We were to have visited his wives to-day, and to have had great
illuminations at the palace; but as it is, we have passed a quiet
comfortable day. We sent word to Shere Singh that Christmas-eve was one
of our great festivals, and that we could not be disturbed to-day or
to-morrow; and we have been quite alone this evening.
Christmas Day.
Runjeet still ill. Dr. D. has seen him twice, and says, if he were a
common patient, he would be well in a day or two; but they are all
rather alarmed about him as it is. He never will take any medicine
whatever. Dr. D. says he has a little glass closet in a corner of his
palace with a common charpoy to lie on, and no other furniture whatever,
and hardly room for any. The fakeer was in attendance, and two or three
of his coolies sitting on the ground at the door--the old man was
asleep with all his clothes on. When he awoke, they washed his hands and
feet, and then called Dr. D. in. He thought his voice very indistinct,
and I fancy the danger is another stroke of palsy--he had one some years
ago. However, he is not much worse than half the camp. This is a very
aguish place, and three of the aides-de-camp are laid up with fever and
ague. Nine officers of the escort stayed the communion to-day, which is
a great many for so _un_religious a country as India. It is not
_ir_religious, but people live without seeing a clergyman or a church
till they forget all about them.
Wednesday, Dec. 26.
Runjeet has been extremely curious about our Sundays and Christmas-days,
and, ill as he was, sent for Mr. Y. to-day, to explain to him what it
meant. Mr. Y. took with him translations of the Lord's Prayer, the Ten
Commandments, and the prayer for the Governor-General. Almost all the
commandments must have been a puzzle to Runjeet's code, from the not
worshipping graven images down to not coveting his neighbour's goods. He
was very much interested, Mr. Y. said, and his fakeer and Dhian Singh
asked a great many questions--the old man seemed very ill.
P., F., and I went to sketch some ruins about two miles off. There is a
troop of Akalees close by, an alarming class of people, who make it a
rule never to live on anything they have not gained by plunder or force.
They have occasionally set fire to whole villages, and Runjeet even
cannot control them, so he has incorporated some of them with his
guards, but they wear their own dark blue dresses, with _quoits_ of
steel hanging all over them, which they fling at anybody and everybody.
The other day, at the review of Runjeet's own guards, a small troop of
these Akalees marched past with the others, but all Runjeet's sirdars
gathered round him as they went by, and some of the Akalees abused them,
and others called out to G. that they were going down to take Calcutta.
They were very quiet with us to-day, but in the morning they had been
very violent against Captain X. and Captain P. They are very
picturesque.
Friday, Dec. 28.
We had a great fright about G. this morning--one of those sort of things
one hates to think of, but yet which leave one thankful all the rest of
the day, that matters were no worse. He went to a review of our three
regiments, and was to ride a horse of W. O.'s, which used to have a
trick of rearing so as to prevent anybody mounting it, but this trick
was supposed to have been cured; and as, when once mounted, he made a
very quiet charger, G. meant to ride him. Yesterday he showed a little
of his old fault, but to-day when G. put his foot in the stirrup he
reared bolt upright. G. still persisted in trying him, in defiance of
W.'s assurances that it would not be safe. I believe he did not hear
them; the second tune, the horse reared, knocked down the syce, and
bolted, throwing G. to the ground. Luckily, the one foot that was in did
not catch fast in the stirrup. He was quite stunned for a minute, but,
except a bruise on his shoulders, was not hurt at all. W. rode home in a
great fright for a palanquin, and the servants, having kept the secret
for five minutes, could not then resist coming to wonder what had
happened. However, we had not a long fright; the guns almost immediately
began to fire again, so we knew that the review was going on; and we
soon heard that he was quite well. A great many of the chiefs
immediately presented purses of money on his escape; and after breakfast
some of the soubadars came with their offerings of rupees, which,
however, it was only necessary for him to touch. It was a narrow escape
of a bad accident, and seems to have frightened the bystanders. In the
afternoon he went to a private interview with the Maharajah, where all
the treaties and papers connected with the Cabul business were read
aloud.
This lasted a long while, and at the end, an 'istackball' came to fetch
F. and me to see a few of Runjeet's wives--merely a slight sample of
them. We saw the old man just for an instant; he looked quite
exhausted--almost dying--and made us over to Kurruck Singh and Heera
Singh, who, in his capacity of favourite, enters the anderoon, and I
should think must endanger the peace of mind of some of the thirty-two
Mrs. Runjeets. He is very good-looking. Between him and Rosina we
contrived to obtain a very good interpretation of the conversation.
The room was a wretched, little, low place: five of the ranees sat on
silver chairs against the wall, with a great many of their slaves
squatting round them, and we sat on chairs opposite them. Four of them
were very handsome; two would have been beautiful anywhere. I suppose
they were Cashmerees, they were so fair. Their heads look too large,
from the quantity of pearls with which they load them, and their
nose-rings conceal all the lower part of the face, and hang down almost
to the waist. First, a crescent of diamonds comes from the nose, and to
that is hung strings of pearls, and tassels of pearls, and rings of
pearls with emerald drops. I can't imagine how they can bear the weight;
and their earrings are just the same.
Their immense almond-shaped black eyes are very striking. The
conversation is always rather stupid: they laughed at our bonnets, and
we rather _jeered_ their nose-rings. They asked to hear my repeater
strike, and I begged to feel the weight of their earrings, &c. Kurruck
Singh was treated with the greatest respect by his five stepmothers; his
own is dead.
They gave us rather shabby presents; a small pearl necklace, and diamond
bracelets. They utterly spoiled my new satin gown by that horrid attar
they smear over their guests, and then we came away. I wish I could make
out how these women fill up their lives. Heera Singh said they each had
a little room of their own, like that we saw, but never went out of the
anderoon on any occasion.
Saturday.
It is a pouring day. We are encamped in the old bed of the river, and a
very wet bed the river must have slept in. I never saw such a quagmire
as my tent is. Nobody has been without a cold since we were at
Ferozepore, but the sneezing and coughing never ceases now.
Everybody is paddling about in overshoes, and we are carried to dinner
in palanquins, and have trenches dug round our bedrooms, which are full
of water. G. and I went to the leave-taking in the shut carriage, with
Kurruck Singh and A----. Kurruck was greatly taken with my green satin
cloak, and made so many hints for my boa, that it was only the
impossibility of getting another, and a remarkably bad cold in my head,
that prevented my giving it to him.
Runjeet looked wonderfully better to-day. An hour was passed in giving
khelwuts to all our gentlemen. He has got a cunning way of cutting off a
great many with the 'Bright Star of the Punjâb,' his new order. It is
worth about fifty rupees.
G. gave this morning the usual khelwuts of 1,000 rupees to all Runjeet's
sirdars; the exchange will be a dead loss to the Company, and will
eventually be the death of C. Runjeet's presents to G. were his picture
set in diamonds, with two rows of pearls; a sword, matchlock, and belt,
much bejewelled; a pair of shawls embroidered in seed-pearl, and the
usual accompaniments--nothing very handsome.
When the distribution was ended, Runjeet said to G., 'Now speak some
words of friendship to me.' So then G. made his farewell, and ended by
saying he hoped Runjeet would wear a parting gift he had brought--that
bunch of emerald grapes we got at Simla.
They produced a great effect. Kurruck Singh and Noor Mahal, who were
sitting on the other side of me, got up to see them, and there was a
murmur of applause, which is unusual at a durbar. Runjeet asked if G.
had any request to make to him; and G. said only one more, that he would
occasionally wear the ring he was going to put on his finger, and he
produced the ring, made of one immense diamond, that was sent up from
Calcutta on speculation. It nearly covered Runjeet's little finger, and
it was quite odd to see the effect it had on the old man. He raised
himself quite up, and called for a candle to put behind it, and seemed
quite taken by surprise; and the gentlemen said that they overheard all
the Sikhs commenting on the generosity of the Governor-General, and the
_real_ friendship he must have for the Maharajah to give him such
presents. Runjeet took a most tender farewell of us; and so now that is
done.
Monday, Dec. 31.
After church, yesterday, Runjeet sent his treasures down with his great
diamond, 'the Light of the World,' which I did not see when the others
saw it. It is very large, but not very bright. There were also some
immense emeralds--some of those we had seen on the horses--and some
enormous rubies. It was a curious sight. G.'s presents, however, looked
very handsome, even amongst all these; and the treasurer said Runjeet
had had them in the morning to show to his chiefs, and that some of them
had advised him to have the _grapes_ made into a rosary, but he said he
never would have it altered; it should always be shown as a proof of the
Governor-General's generosity, just as he gave it to him. The ring,
which did not cost so much, the Sikhs, however, value still more.
In the afternoon, F. and I went to pay our visit to Mrs. Shere Singh.
Shere Singh thought it had been given up, and has been teasing E.'s
heart out about it. It would have been ill-natured not to go, and,
moreover, we should have missed a very pretty sight. We have never been
to any of their tents. Pertâb came to fetch us. The tents are very near
ours, and very showy-looking--all red and white stripes.
We were received with a very noisy salute, and all his own goocherras,
in their fancy dresses, were drawn up on each side of some fine shawl
carpets. Shere Singh was a mass of gold and jewels himself, and it was a
fine sight to see him come to the entrance, with all his people about
him.
We went first to a little tent, where we left E. and the two
aides-de-camp, and which was fitted up very like an English
drawing-room, full of plate, and musical-boxes, and china. I suppose the
French officers have taught him how to arrange a room; indeed, General
A. brought him most of the things. He went into an inner tent, and
fetched out two wives--Pertâb's mother, who is the chief ranee, and a
second wife, who was immensely fat, and rather ugly; but Pertâb's mother
was one of the prettiest little creatures I ever saw, very like Jenny
Vertpré, but with the longest almond-eyes in the world, and with hands
like a little child's. They were dressed just like Runjeet's ranees, but
were much more talkative, and we stayed a long time with them, Rosina
interpreting. I told her that Shere Singh had made me a present of
Pertâb, and that I hoped she would let me take him to England. And she
took it seriously; the tears came into those large eyes, and she said,
'You have other amusements, and you are going back to your own country;
there are four of us, and our only happiness is to see Pertâb; in
another country he would be as dead!' and then she put her little arms
around him, and kissed him, and the other fat wife gave him a hug, and
said she should die without him. The mother looked like a little girl
herself. They gave us splendid presents, much finer than any of
Runjeet's, and showed off all their own nicknackeries, and wanted us
very much to come again, but we march to-morrow. I should like to see
some of these high-caste ladies several times, without all this nonsense
of presents, &c., but so as to hear their story, and their way of life,
and their thoughts. She did not seem at all afraid of Shere Singh, which
is very unusual, and I believe does not see much of him.
New Year's Day.
There! we left Lahore yesterday; we have made two marches, and shall
cross the river in four more; and now it appears this post is to go only
eighteen days after the last. This is a good day for winding-up of a
Journal.