Though the naalkie and palkie are restricted to the use of privileged persons, all are allowed the services of the elephant.  I knew a professed beggar, who made his diurnal tour through the city of Lucknow on one.  A beggar, however, in Native estimation, is not the despicable creature he is in European opinion; a degree of veneration is always evinced towards men, who live on the casual bounty of their fellow mortals, and profess not to have either a worldly calling or other means of support.  The beggar, I allude to, was called Shaah Jhee[15]; he had originally been a travelling mendicant, and made a visit to Lucknow, when the late King was a young man, whom he met by accident outside the town; and, I believe, without knowing to whom he was speaking, predicted some favourable circumstances which should attend him eventually; the young prince then disclosed himself to the beggar, and promised him if his predictions were verified, he would reward him in the way he wished.  Shaah Jhee left the Oude district, and travelled over most parts of Hindoostaun.  Returning after many years’ absence to Lucknow, he found the prince seated on the throne of his ancestors, and watching for a favourable opportunity to present himself, made his claims to the sovereign, who, remembering the circumstance and his promise, conferred the required reward—­to be allowed to demand five cowries daily from every shopkeeper in the city of Lucknow.  The King added to this humble demand a house to reside in, and the elephant on which he went to collect his revenue.  Eighty-five cowries (shells) are valued at one pice, or a halfpenny; yet so vast is this capital of Oude, that Shaah Jhee was in the receipt of a handsome daily allowance, by this apparently trifling collection.

Most of the respectable gentlemen in Lucknow maintain an elephant for their own use, where it is almost as common to meet them as horses.  Though most persons, I observe, avoid falling in with, the royal cortege, (which is always announced by the sound of the dunkah), unless they are disposed to court the King’s observation; then they draw up their elephant, and oblige the animal to kneel down whilst the King passes on, the owner standing in his howdah to make salaams; others, I have seen, dismount in time, and stand in a humble posture, with the hands folded and the head bowed low, doing reverence and attracting his Majesty’s notice as he passes on.  These little acts of ceremonious respect are gratifying to the King, and are frequently the means of advancing the views of the subject to his favour.

The khillauts, presented by the King, vary in the number of the articles composing the gift, as well as in the quality.  The personal rank, and sometimes the degree of estimation in which the receiver is held, is defined by the value and number of an individual’s khillaut.  I have known some gentlemen tenacious to a foible, about the nature of the khillaut that could consistently be accepted; I have heard it even expressed, ’I shall be disgraced in the eyes of the world, if my khillaut has not the full complement usually conferred on men of my rank’.  It is the honour they value, not the intrinsic worth of the articles, for it is no uncommon thing to find them distributing the dress of honour amongst their dependants, on the same day they have received it.