One thing was certain. A well-favoured youth disappeared from the town; and when his people were asked what had become of him, they replied that he had gone to a distant temple to serve the gods.
The Rajah who was reigning in 1879 was the last of his race. His predecessor was for a long time without an heir. In despair he made a gigantic effort at matrimony and married seventeen girls--some say twenty-two-in one day. The matter was reported to the directors of the East India Company, and a discussion took place as to the propriety-politically speaking-of his act. Seventeen girls for the old man meant a probable future charge of seventeen widows upon the revenues of the State.
The news of this remarkable marriage caused some amusement to the Board. On the margin of the draft despatch, prepared for the consideration of the members, one of the directors scribbled 'Oh, what fun!'
The matrimonial effort produced one daughter only, and when her father died she succeeded him. A consort was found for her, and he was given the title of Rajah. When I went to Tanjore she and her husband were reigning.
There were fourteen widows living, but their numbers have considerably diminished since then. Their wholesale marriage was cruel and unjust. At the death of the Rajah all the girls had to submit to the deprivations associated with Hindu widowhood. They were shut up for life in the palace, a huge building containing more than a hundred rooms, besides the durbar halls of audience, the courtyards, gardens, stabling, servants' quarters, and palace temple. There they spent their lives, living on what excitement they could find behind the purdah. It usually took the form of quarrelling. Their little world was full of jealousies. The widows were supposed to be on an equality, but were constantly in dispute on the subject of
