MOGUL ARCHITECTURE.
CONTENTS.
Dynasties--Tomb of Mohammad Ghaus, Gualior--Mosque at Futtehpore
Sikri--Akbar’s Tomb, Secundra--Palace at Delhi--The Taje Mehal--The
Mûti Musjid--Mosque at Delhi--The Imambara, Lucknow--Tomb of late
Nawab, Junaghur.
CHRONOLOGY.
Baber A.D. 1494
Humayun 1531
Shere Shah 1539
Selim 1545
---- dies 1553
Akbar 1556
Jehangir 1605
Shah Jehan 1628
Aurungzebe 1658
Bahadûr Shah 1707
Till very recently, a description of the style introduced by the Mogul
emperors would have been considered a complete history of Mahomedan
architecture in India. It is the style which was described by Roe and
Bernier, and all subsequent travellers. It was rendered familiar to the
public in Europe by the drawings of Daniell in the beginning of this
century, and, since Agra and Delhi became practically British cities,
their buildings have been described, drawn, and photographed till they
have become almost as well known as any found in Europe. It will take a
very long time before even photography will render the mosques or tombs
of such cities as Ahmedabad or Bijapur as familiar or as easily
understood. Yet it is, perhaps, true to assert that the buildings of
other dynasties, commencing with the mosques at the Kutub and at Ajmir,
and continuing till the last Dekhani dynasty was destroyed by
Aurungzebe, make up a whole as extensive and more interesting, in a
historical point of view, than even all that was done by the Moguls. On
the other hand, however, there is a unity in the works of that dynasty,
and a completeness in their history, which makes the study of their art
peculiarly fascinating, and some of their buildings will bear
comparison, in some respects, with any architectural productions in any
part of the world. Their buildings, however, are so original, and so
unlike any of the masterpieces of art that we are generally acquainted
with, that it is almost impossible to institute any comparison between
them which shall be satisfactory. How, for instance, can we compare the
Parthenon with the Taje? They are buildings of nearly equal size and
magnificence, both in white marble, both admirably adapted for the
purposes for which they were built; but what else have they in common?
The one is simple in its outline, and depending on pillars for its
external adornment; the other has no pillars, and owes its greatest
effects to its singularly varied outline and the mode in which its
various parts are disposed, many of them wholly detached from the
principal mass. The Parthenon belongs, it is true, to a higher class of
art, its sculptures raising it into the region of the most intellectual
branch of phonetic art; but, on the other hand, the exquisite inlay of
precious stones at the Taje is so æsthetically beautiful as, in a merely
architectural estimate, almost to bring it on a level with the Grecian
masterpiece.[535]
Though their value, consequently, may be nearly the same, their forms
are so essentially different that they hardly look like productions of
the same art; and in an art so essentially conventional as architecture
always is and must be, it requires long familiarity with any new form,
and a knowledge of its origin and use, that can only be acquired by
constant study, which makes it very difficult for a stranger to realise
the real beauty that often underlies even the strangest forms. When,
however, these difficulties are conquered, it will probably be found
that there are few among the Eastern styles that deserve more attention,
and would better repay any study that might be bestowed upon them, than
the architecture of the Moguls.
* * * * *
Some little interruptions are experienced at the beginning of the
narrative from the interpolation of the reigns of Shere Shah and his son
Selim in the reign of Humayun. He was an Afghan by descent and an Indian
by birth, and, had he been left to follow his own devices, would, no
doubt, have built in the style of architecture used at Agra and Delhi
before his countrymen were disturbed by the Mogul invasion. We have, it
is true, very little to tell us what that style was during the 170 years
that elapsed between the death of Tugluck Shah and the first invasion of
Baber, but it seems to have been singularly plain and solid, and very
unlike the florid art introduced by the Moguls, and practised by Shere
Shah and his son apparently in rivalry to the new master of Hindustan.
So little difference is there, however, between the architecture of
Shere Shah and of Akbar that they must be treated as one style,
beginning in great sobriety and elegance, and ending in something nearly
approaching to wildness and exuberance of decoration, but still very
beautiful--in some respects superior to the chaste but feeble elegance
of the later Mogul style that succeeded it.
There is, again, a little difficulty and confusion in our having no
examples of the style as practised by Baber and Humayun. The well-known
tomb of the latter king was certainly built by his son Akbar; Baber was
buried near Cabul, and no building known to be his has yet been
identified in India. Yet that he did build is certain. In his own
‘Memoirs’ he tells us, “In Agra alone, and of the stone-cutters
belonging to that place only, I every day employed on my palaces 680
persons; and in Agra, Sikri, Biana, Dhulpur, Gualior, and Koel, there
were every day employed on my works 1491 stone-cutters.”[536] In the
following pages he describes some of these works, and especially a
Bowlee of great magnificence he excavated in the fort of Agra.[537] This
was in the year 1526, and he lived to carry on these works for five
years longer. During the ten years that his son retained the empire, we
learn from Ferishta and other sources that he adorned his capital with
many splendid edifices: one, a palace containing seven pavilions or
audience-halls--one dedicated to each of the planets, in which he gave
audience on the day of the week dedicated to the planet of the day.[538]
There are traditions of a mosque he is said to have built on the banks
of the Jumna, opposite where the Taje now stands; and his name is so
frequently mentioned in connexion with buildings both at Agra and Delhi
that there can be little doubt that he was a builder to as great an
extent as the troubled character of his reign would admit of. But his
buildings have perished, so that practically the history of Mogul
architecture commences with the buildings of an Afghan dynasty who
occupied the throne of India for sixteen years during the last part of
Humayun’s reign.
It is probable that before long very considerable light will be thrown
upon the origin of the style which the Moguls introduced into India,
from an examination of the buildings erected at Samarcand by Timur a
hundred years before Baber’s time (A.D. 1393-1404). Now that the city is
in the hands of the Russians, it is accessible to Europeans. Its
buildings have been drawn and photographed, but not yet described so as
to be available for scientific purposes, but sufficiently so to indicate
the direction in which light may be expected. Though a frightful savage
in most respects, Timur was possessed of a true Turki love for noble
architecture; and though he generally massacred the inhabitants of any
town that resisted him, he always spared the architects and artists, and
sent them to work on the embellishment of his capitals. Samarcand was
consequently filled with splendid edifices, but, so far as can be judged
from the materials available, more resembling in style those of Persia
than anything now known to exist in India. The bulbous dome appears
everywhere, and was not known at that time in India, unless it was in
the quasi-Persian province of Scinde. Coloured tiles were the favourite
mode of decoration, and altogether their style was gorgeous in the
extreme as compared with the sobriety of the later Pathan buildings in
India. A few years hence all this may be made quite clear and
intelligible, meanwhile we must pass on to
SHERE SHAH, A.D. 1539-1545.
Certainly one of the most remarkable men who ever ruled in northern
India, though his reign was limited to only five years’ duration; and
during that brief space, disturbed by all the troubles incident to a
usurpation, he left his impress on every branch of the administration.
The revenue system, the police, the army administration, all the great
reforms, in fact, which Akbar so successfully carried out, were
commenced, and to some extent perfected, by this usurper, as the Moguls
call him. In architecture, too, which most concerns us here, he
certainly pointed out the path by which his successor reached such
eminence.
The most perfect of his buildings that I am acquainted with is the
mosque in the Purana Kìlah at Delhi. The walls of this place were
repaired by Humayun in A.D. 1533, and I do not feel quite sure he had
not something to do with the mosque. According to the latest
authorities, however, it is said to have been built--I have no doubt it
was finished--by Shere Shah in A.D. 1541.[539] It is a single hall, with
five openings in front through pointed arches of what we would call
Tudor form, but beautifully varied in design, and arranged in panels
carved with the most exquisite designs and ornamented with
parti-coloured marbles. One important dome, pierced with twelve small
windows, crowns the centre; it has, however, no minarets and no
courtyard, but even without these adjuncts it is one of the most
satisfactory buildings of its class in India.[540]
In the citadel at Agra there stands--or at least stood when I was
there--a fragment of a palace built by Shere Shah, or his son Selim,
which was as exquisite a piece of decorative art as anything of its
class in India. Being one of the first to occupy the ground, this palace
was erected on the highest spot within the fort; hence the present
Government, fancying this a favourable site for the erection of a
barrack, pulled it down, and replaced it by a more than usually hideous
brick erection of their own. This is now a warehouse, and looms, in
whitewashed ugliness, over the marble palaces of the Moguls--a fit
standard of comparison of the tastes of the two races.[541]
Judging from the fragment that remains, and the accounts received on the
spot, this palace must have gone far to justify the eulogium more than
once passed on the works of these Pathans--that “they built like giants,
and finished like goldsmiths:” for the stones seem to have been of
enormous size, and the details of most exquisite finish. It has passed
away, however, like many another noble building of its class, under the
ruthless barbarism of our rule. Mosques we have generally spared, and
sometimes tombs, because they were unsuited to our economic purposes,
and it would not answer to offend the religious feelings of the natives.
But when we deposed the kings and appropriated their revenues, there was
no one to claim their now useless abodes of splendour. It was
consequently found cheaper either to pull them down, or use them as
residences or arsenals, than to keep them up, so that very few now
remain for the admiration of posterity.
The tomb of Shere Shah has been already described (_ante_, p. 516), as
it is essentially Pathan in style. It was erected at his native place in
Behar, to the south of the Ganges, far from Mogul influence at that
time, and in the style of severe simplicity that characterised the works
of his race between the times of Tugluck and those of Behlol Lodi (A.D.
1450-1488), the last really independent king of his line.
It is not quite clear how much of the tomb was built by himself, or how
much by his son Selim, who certainly finished it. Selim also built the
Selimghur on an island in the Jumna, to which Shah Jehan afterwards
added his palace in New Delhi. Whether, however, he erected any
buildings inside is not certain--nothing at least now remains of any
importance. Generally he seems to have carried on and completed his
father’s buildings, and between them they have left a group of
architectural remains which, if collected together and illustrated,
would form an interesting chapter in the history of Indian-Mahomedan
styles.[542]
AKBAR, 1556-1605.
It would require a volume to describe all the buildings erected by this
remarkable man during his long reign of forty-nine years, and a hundred
plates would hardly suffice to make known all their peculiarities. Had
Akbar been content to follow in the lines of the style invented by the
Pathans and perfected by Shere Shah, it might be easy enough to follow
the sequence, but nothing in his character is so remarkable as the
spirit of tolerance that pervaded all his acts. He seems to have had as
sincere a love and admiration for his Hindu subjects as he had for those
of his own faith, and whether from policy or inclination, to have
cherished their arts as much as he did those that belonged exclusively
to his own people. The consequence is a mixture throughout all his works
of two styles, often more picturesque than correct, which might, in the
course of another half century, have been blended into a completely new
style if persevered in. The spirit of tolerance, however, died with him.
There is no trace of Hinduism in the works of Jehangir or Shah Jehan,
and Aurungzebe would have been horrified at the suggestion that arts of
the infidels could influence anything he did.
One probably of his earliest works was the mausoleum, which he erected
over the remains of his father, Humayun, at Delhi. Though it certainly
was finished by Akbar, it most probably was designed and commenced by
his father; for, as frequently remarked in the previous pages of this
work, the great architectural peculiarity of the Tartar or Mongolian
races is their tomb-building propensity, in which they are so strongly
distinguished from the Aryan, and also from the great Semitic families,
with whom they divide the greater part of the habitable globe. Nowhere
is this more forcibly illustrated than in India--where the tombs of the
Pathans and Moguls form a complete and unbroken series of architectural
monuments from the first years of the Moslem invasion to the present
hour.
The tombs of the Pathans are less splendid than those of the Moguls; but
nevertheless the whole series is singularly interesting, the tombs being
far more numerous than the mosques. Generally speaking, also, they are
more artistic in design, and frequently not only larger but more
splendidly decorated than the buildings exclusively devoted to prayer.
The princes of the Tartar races, in carrying out their love of tombs,
made it the practice to build their own in their lifetime, as all
people must who are really desirous of sepulchral magnificence. In
doing this they rejected the Egyptian mode of preparing dark and deep
chambers in the heart of the rock, or of the massive pyramid. The
Tartars, on the other hand, built their sepulchres of such a character
as to serve for places of enjoyment for themselves and their friends
during their lifetime, and only when they could enjoy them no longer
they became the solemn resting-places of their mortal remains.
The usual process for the erection of these structures is for the king
or noble who intends to provide himself a tomb to enclose a garden
outside the city walls, generally with high crenellated walls, and with
one or more splendid gateways; and in the centre of this he erects a
square or octagonal building, crowned by a dome, and in the more
splendid examples with smaller and dome-roofed apartments on four of the
sides or angles, the other four being devoted to entrances. This
building is generally situated on a lofty square terrace, from which
radiate four broad alleys, generally with marble-paved canals ornamented
with fountains; the angular spaces are planted with cypresses and other
evergreens and fruit-trees, making up one of those formal but beautiful
gardens so characteristic of the East. During the lifetime of the
founder, the central building is called a Barrah Durrie, or festal hall,
and is used as a place of recreation and feasting by him and his
friends.
At his death its destination is changed--the founder’s remains are
interred beneath the central dome. Sometimes his favourite wife lies
beside him; but more generally his family and relations are buried
beneath the collateral domes. When once used as a place of burial, its
vaults never again resound with festive mirth. The care of the building
is handed over to priests and cadis, who gain a scanty subsistence by
the sale of the fruits of the garden, or the alms of those who come to
visit the last resting-place of their friend or master. Perfect silence
takes the place of festivity and mirth. The beauty of the surrounding
objects combines with the repose of the place to produce an effect as
graceful as it is solemn and appropriate.
Though the tombs, with the remains of their enclosures, are so numerous
throughout all India, the Taje Mehal, at Agra, is almost the only tomb
that retains its garden in anything like its pristine beauty, and there
is not perhaps in the whole world a scene where nature and art so
successfully combine to produce a perfect work of art as within the
precincts of this far-famed mausoleum.
The tomb of Humayun Shah, the first of the Moguls who was buried in
India, still stands tolerably entire among the ruins of Old Delhi, of
which indeed it forms the principal and most striking object. It stands
well on a lofty square platform, adorned with arches, whose piers are
ornamented with an inlay of white marble. The tomb itself is an
octagonal apartment, of considerable dimensions, crowned by a dome of
white marble, of very graceful contour externally. Four sides of the
octagon are occupied by the entrances; to the other four smaller
octagonal apartments are attached, making up a building nearly a square
in plan, with only the angles slightly cut away.[543] Its plan is in
fact that afterwards adopted at the Taje (Woodcut No. 338), but used
here without the depth and poetry of that celebrated building. Its most
marked characteristic, however, is its purity--it might almost be called
poverty--of design. It is so very unlike anything else that Akbar ever
built, that it is hardly possible it could have been designed by him. It
has not even the picturesque boldness of the earlier Pathan tombs, and
in fact looks more like buildings a century at least more modern than it
really is. It is, however, a noble tomb, and anywhere else must be
considered a wonder.
Humayun’s tomb, however, is so well known from drawings and photographs,
that, in order to illustrate the architecture of the day, it may be
preferable to take the contemporary tomb of Mohammad Ghaus at Gualior,
which certainly was erected during the early part of Akbar’s reign, and
is a singularly interesting example of the tombs of the period. It is a
square, measuring 100 ft. each way, exclusive of the hexagonal towers,
which are attached to the angles (Woodcut No. 327). The chamber of the
tomb itself is a hall 43 ft. square, with the angles cut off by pointed
arches so as to form an octagon, on which the dome rests. Around this
square building is a gallery, 20 ft. wide between the piers, enclosed on
all sides by a screen of the most exquisite tracery in pierced
stone-work with a projecting porch on each face (Woodcut No. 328).[544]
[Illustration: 327. Plan of Tomb of Mohammad Ghaus, Gualior. Scale 50
ft. to 1 in.]
On comparing this with the tomb of Shere Shah at Sasseram, which in many
respects it resembles to a considerable extent, it will be seen that it
marks a considerable progress in tomb-building during even the short
period that elapsed between the erection of the two. There is an
inherent weakness in an octagonal form as compared with the square, that
even the Pathans never quite successfully conquered; and the outward
screen of trellis-work is far more elegant than the open arcade of the
Sasseram tomb. Something may be due to the fact that Gualior was a city
where building of an ornamental character had long been going on, and
where consequently a superior school of masons and architects may always
have existed, while Sasseram was a remote country village, where these
advantages were unknown. But be this as it may, the progress is such in
so short a time, that we can only ascribe it to the invigorating touch
of Akbar’s genius, which was afterwards to work such wonders.
[Illustration: 328. Tomb of Mohammad Ghaus, Gualior. (From a
Photograph.)]
One of the most remarkable and characteristic of Akbar’s buildings is
the old or Red Palace in the fort, so called from being constructed
entirely of red sandstone, unfortunately not a very good quality, and
consequently much of its ornament has peeled off. It is a square
building, measuring 249 ft. by 260 ft. In the centre is a courtyard, 71
ft. by 72 ft., on either side of which are two halls facing one another.
The largest, 62 ft. by 37 ft., has a flat ceiling of stone, divided into
panels, and supported by struts of purely Hindu design, very similar to
those used in the palaces of Mân Sing and Vicramaditya at Gualior. Every
feature around this court is indeed of pure Hindu architecture. No
arches appear anywhere, but the horizontal style of construction
everywhere. The ornamentation, too, which is carved on all the flat
surfaces, is of a class used by Akbar, but not found in the buildings of
others. Indeed, throughout this palace arches are used so sparingly, and
Hindu forms and Hindu construction prevail to such an extent, that it
would hardly be out of place at Chittore or Gualior, though it still
bears that impress of vigour and originality that he and he only knew
how to impress on all his works.[545]
It is, however, at Futtehpore Sikri that Akbar must be judged of as a
builder. During the whole of his reign it was his favourite residence.
He apparently was the first to occupy the spot, and apparently the last,
at least, to build there, no single building being identified as having
been erected by any of his successors.
Akbar seems to have had no settled plan when he commenced building
there. The original part of the building seems to be the Khas Mehal, a
square block of building measuring about 260 ft. each way, and therefore
of about the same dimensions as the Red Palace in the fort at Agra. Its
courtyard, however, is larger, about 170 ft. each way, and the buildings
that surround it very inferior in richness of design and ornamentation.
This, however, is far more than compensated for by the courts and
pavilions that he added from time to time. There is the Dewanni Khas, or
throne-room, a square building with a throne consisting of an enormous
flower-like bracket, supported on a richly-carved pillar;[546] a
peristylar building, called his office, very similar to one he erected
at Allahabad, to be mentioned hereafter; a five-storeyed open pavilion,
all the pillars of which are most richly carved, and long colonnades and
walls connecting these with one another. The richest, the most
beautiful, as well as the most characteristic of all his buildings here
are three small pavilions, said to have been erected to please and
accommodate his three favourite sultanas: hence called Bîr Bul ka Beti
ka Mehal, for his Hindu wife, the daughter of his favourite minister,
Bîr Bul; Miriam’s House, appropriated to his Christian consort; and the
palace of the Roumi Sultana. They are small, but it is impossible to
conceive anything so picturesque in outline, or any building carved and
ornamented to such an extent, without the smallest approach to being
overdone or in bad taste. The two pillars shown in the annexed woodcut,
are from a cast from the last-named pavilion, which is now in the South
Kensington Museum. It is, perhaps, the most elaborate of the three; but
the other two are generally in better taste.
[Illustration: 329. Carved Pillars in the Sultana’s Kiosk, Futtehpore
Sikri. (From a Photograph.)]
The glory, however, of Futtehpore Sikri is its mosque, which is hardly
surpassed by any in India (Woodcut No. 330). It measures 550 ft. east
and west, by 470 ft. north and south over all. The mosque itself, 290
ft. by 80 ft., is crowned by three domes. In its courtyard, which
measures 350 ft. by 440 ft., stand two tombs: that of Selim Chisti,
wholly in white marble, and the windows with pierced tracery of the most
exquisite geometrical patterns--flowing tracery is a subsequent
invention. It possesses besides a deep cornice of marble supported by
brackets of the most elaborate design, so much so indeed as to be almost
fantastic--the only approach to bad taste in the place; the other tomb,
that of Islam Khan, is soberer and in excellent taste, but quite
eclipsed by its surroundings. Even these parts, however, are surpassed
in magnificence by the southern gateway, measuring 130 ft. by 85 ft. in
plan, and of proportionate dimensions in height (Woodcut No. 331). As it
stands on a rising ground, when looked at from below, its appearance is
noble beyond that of any portal attached to any mosque in India, perhaps
in the whole world. This gateway may also be quoted as a perfectly
satisfactory solution of a problem which has exercised the ingenuity of
architects in all ages, but was more successfully treated by the
Saracenic architects than by any others.
[Illustration: 330. Mosque at Futtehpore Sikri. (From a Plan by Lieut.
Cole, R.E.)]
[Illustration: 331. Southern Gateway of Mosque, Futtehpore Sikri. (From
a Photograph.)]
It was always manifest that to give a large building a door at all in
proportion to its dimensions was, to say the least of it, very
inconvenient. Men are only 6 ft. high, and they do not want portals
through which elephants might march. The Greeks never ventured,
however, to reduce the proportionate size of their portals, though it
may be they only opened the lower half, and they covered them, in almost
all instances, with porticos to give them a dignity that even their
dimensions failed to impart.
The Gothic architects tried, by splaying their deeply-embowed doorways,
and by ornamenting them richly with carving and sculpture, to give them
the dignity that was indispensable for their situation without
unnecessarily increasing the size of the openings. It was left, however,
for the Saracenic architects completely to get over the difficulty. They
placed their portals--one, or three, or five, of very moderate
dimensions--at the back of a semi-dome. This last feature thus became
the porch or portico, and its dimensions became those of the portal,
wholly irrespective of the size of the opening. No one, for instance,
looking at this gateway can mistake that it is a doorway and that only,
and no one thinks of the size of the openings which are provided at its
base. The semi-dome is the modulus of the design, and its scale that by
which the imagination measures its magnificence.
The same system pervades almost all the portals of the age and style,
and always with a perfectly satisfactory result--sometimes even more
satisfactory than in this instance, though it may be in less
proportionate dimensions. The principle seems the best that has yet been
hit upon, and, when that is right, failure is as difficult, as it is to
achieve success when the principle of the design is wrong.
Taking it altogether, this palace at Futtehpore Sikri is a romance in
stone, such as few--very few--are to be found anywhere; and it is a
reflex of the mind of the great man who built it more distinct than can
easily be obtained from any other source.[547]
Allahabad was a more favourite residence of this monarch than Agra,
perhaps as much so as even Futtehpore Sikri; but the English having
appropriated the fort, its glories have been nearly obliterated. The
most beautiful thing was the pavilion of the Chalîs Sitûn, or forty
pillars, so called from its having that number on the principal floor,
disposed in two concentric octagonal ranges, one internal of sixteen
pillars, the other outside of twenty-four. Above this, supported by the
inner colonnade, was an upper range of the same number of pillars
crowned by a dome. This building has entirely disappeared, its materials
being wanted to repair the fortifications. The great hall, however,
still remains, represented in the annexed woodcut (No. 332). It is now
the arsenal; a brick wall has been run up between its outer colonnades
with windows of English architecture, and its curious pavilions and
other accompaniments removed; and internally, whatever could not be
conveniently cut away is carefully covered up with plaster and
whitewash, and hid by stands of arms and deal fittings. Still its plan
can be made out; a square hall supported by eight rows of columns, eight
in each row, thus making in all sixty-four, surrounded by a deep
verandah of double columns, with groups of four at the angles, all
surmounted by bracket capitals of the most elegant and richest design,
and altogether as fine in style and as rich in ornament as anything in
India.
[Illustration: 332. Hall in Palace at Allahabad. (From a Drawing by
Daniell.)]
Perhaps, however, the most characteristic of Akbar’s buildings is the
tomb he commenced to erect for himself at Secundra, near Agra, which is
quite unlike any other tomb built in India either before or since, and
of a design borrowed, as I believe, from a Hindu, or more correctly,
Buddhist, model. It stands in an extensive garden, still kept up,
approached by one noble gateway. In the centre of this garden, on a
raised platform, stands the tomb itself, of a pyramidal form. The lower
storey measures 320 ft. each way, exclusive of the angle towers. It is
30 ft. in height, and pierced by ten great arches on each face, and with
a larger entrance adorned with a mosaic of marble in the centre
(Woodcuts Nos. 333, 334).[548]
On this terrace stands another far more ornate, measuring 186 ft. on
each side, and 14 ft. 9 in. in height. A third and fourth, of similar
design, and respectively 15 ft. 2 in. and 14 ft. 6 in. high, stand on
this, all these being of red sandstone. Within and above the last is a
white marble enclosure 157 ft. each way, or externally just half the
length of the lowest terrace, its outer wall entirely composed of marble
trellis-work of the most beautiful patterns. Inside it is surrounded by
a colonnade or cloister of the same material, in the centre of which, on
a raised platform, is the tombstone of the founder, a splendid piece of
the most beautiful arabesque tracery. This, however, is not the true
burial-place; but the mortal remains of this great king repose under a
far plainer tombstone in a vaulted chamber in the basement 35 ft.
square, exactly under the simulated tomb that adorns the summit of the
mausoleum.
[Illustration: 333. Plan of Akbar’s Tomb at Secundra. (From a Plan by
the Author.) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
At first sight it might appear that the design of this curious and
exceptional tomb was either a caprice of the monarch who built it, or an
importation from abroad (Woodcut No. 335). My impression, on the
contrary, is, that it is a direct imitation of some such building as the
old Buddhist viharas which may have existed, applied to other purposes
in Akbar’s time. Turning back, for instance, to Woodcuts Nos. 66 and
181, representing the great rath at Mahavellipore, it will be seen that
the number and proportion of the storeys is the same. The pavilions that
adorn the upper storeys of Akbar’s tomb appear distinct reminiscences of
the cells that stand on the edge of each platform of the rock-cut
example. If the tomb had been crowned by a domical chamber over the
tombstone, the likeness would have been so great that no one could
mistake it, and my conviction is, that such a chamber was part of the
original design. No such royal tomb remains exposed to the air in any
Indian mausoleum; and the raised platform in the centre of the upper
cloister, 38 ft. square, looks so like its foundation that I cannot help
believing it was intended for that purpose. As the monument now stands,
the pyramid has
[Illustration: 334. Diagram Section[549] of one-half of Akbar’s Tomb at
Secundra, explanatory of its Arrangements. Scale 50 ft. to 1 in.]
a truncated and unmeaning aspect. The total height of the building now
is a little more than 100 ft. to the top of the angle pavilions; and a
central dome 30 or 40 ft. higher, which is the proportion that the base
gives, seems just what is wanted to make this tomb as beautiful in
outline and in proportion as it is in detail. Had it been so completed,
it certainly would have ranked next the Taje among Indian
mausolea.[550]
[Illustration: 335. View of Akbar’s Tomb, Secundra. (From a
Photograph.)]
JEHANGIR, A.D. 1605-1628.
When we consider how much was done by his father and his son, it is
rather startling to find how little Jehangir contributed to the
architectural magnificence of India. Partly this may be owing to his not
having the same passion for building which characterised these two great
monarchs; but partly also to his having made Lahore the capital during
his reign, and to his having generally resided there in preference to
Agra or Delhi. The great mosque there, however, which was built by him,
seems to be equal in magnificence to that built by Shah Jehan at Delhi.
This mosque, however, seems to have been surpassed by one erected in the
city of Lahore by his vizir. It is in the Persian style, covered with
enamelled tiles, and resplendent in colours, but not very graceful in
form. His tomb, in which he lies buried with his queen, the imperious
Nurjehan, was worthy of its builder, but has been used as a quarry by
the Sikhs, and half the splendour of the temple at Amritsir is due to
marbles plundered from this mausoleum. The palace, too, which he
erected, was worthy of his other buildings, but it has suffered as much
as the rest. It has been used as a habitation from that time to this,
and so altered, to adapt it to the wants of its successive occupants,
that little of its original form remains.
We have, however, no measurements and no information about these
monuments which would enable us to speak with any confidence either
regarding them, or the other buildings of that city, which seems to owe
its principal splendour to the reign of this monarch.
At the other end of his dominions also he built a splendid new capital
at Dacca, in supersession to Gaur, and adorned it with several buildings
of considerable dimensions. These, however, were principally in
brick-work, covered with stucco, and with only pillars and brackets in
stone. Most of them, consequently, are in a state of ruinous decay;
marvellously picturesque, it must be confessed, peering through the
luxuriant vegetation that is tearing them to pieces, but hardly worthy
to be placed in competition with the stone and marble buildings of the
more northern capitals.
There is one building--the tomb known as that of Eti-mad-Doulah--at
Agra, however, which certainly belongs to this reign, and, though not
erected by the monarch himself, cannot be passed over, not only from its
own beauty of design, but also because it marks an epoch in the style to
which it belongs. It is situated on the left bank of the river, in the
midst of a garden surrounded by a wall measuring 540 ft. on each side.
In the centre of this, on a raised platform, stands the tomb itself, a
square measuring 69 ft. on each side. It is two storeys in height, and
at each angle is an octagonal tower, surmounted by an open pavilion. The
towers, however, are rather squat in proportion, and the general design
of the building very far from being so pleasing as that of many less
pretentious tombs in the neighbourhood. Had it, indeed, been built in
red sandstone, or even with an inlay of white marble like that of
Humayun, it would not have attracted much attention. Its real merit
consists in being wholly in white marble, and being covered throughout
with a mosaic in “pietro duro”--the first, apparently, and certainly one
of the most splendid, examples of that class of ornamentation in India.
It seems now to be ascertained that in the early part of the 17th
century Italian artists, principally, apparently from Florence, were
introduced into India, and taught the Indians the art of inlaying marble
with precious stones.[551] No instance of this mode of decoration
occurs, so far as I know, in the reign of Akbar; but in that of Shah
Jehan it became the leading characteristic of the style, and both his
palaces and his tombs owe their principal distinction to the beauty of
the mode in which this new invention was employed.
It has been doubted whether this new art was really a foreign
introduction, or whether it had not been invented by the natives of
India themselves. The question never, probably, would have arisen had
one of the fundamental principles of architecture been better
understood. When we, for instance, having no art of our own, copy a
Grecian or Roman pillar, or an Italian mediæval arch in detail, we do so
literally, without any attempt to adapt it to our uses or climate; but
when a people having a style of their own wish to adopt any feature or
process belonging to any other style, they do not copy but adapt it to
their uses; and it is this distinction between adopting and adapting
that makes all the difference. We would have allowed the Italians to
introduce with their mosaics all the details of their Cinque-cento
architecture. The Indians set them to reproduce, with their new
materials and processes, the patterns which the architects of Akbar had
been in the habit of carving in stone or of inlaying in marble. Every
form was adapted to the place where it was to be used. The style
remained the same, so did all the details; the materials only were
changed, and the patterns only so far as was necessary to adapt them to
the smaller and more refined materials that were to be used.[552]
As one of the first, the tomb of Eti-mad-Doulah was certainly one of the
least successful specimens of its class. The patterns do not quite fit
the places where they are put, and the spaces are not always those best
suited for this style of decoration. Altogether I cannot help fancying
that the Italians had more to do with the design of this building than
was at all desirable, and they are to blame for its want of grace. But,
on the other hand, the beautiful tracery of the pierced marble slabs of
its windows, which resemble those of Selim Chisti’s tomb at Futtehpore
Sikri, the beauty of its white marble walls, and the rich colour of its
decorations, make up so beautiful a whole, that it is only on comparing
it with the works of Shah Jehan that we are justified in finding fault.
SHAH JEHAN, A.D. 1628-1658.
It would be difficult to point out in the whole history of architecture
any change so sudden as that which took place between the style of Akbar
and that of his grandson Shah Jehan--nor any contrast so great as that
between the manly vigour and exuberant originality of the first, as
compared with the extreme but almost effeminate elegance of the second.
Certainly when the same people, following the same religion, built
temples and palaces in the same locality, nothing of the sort ever
occurred in any country whose history is now known to us.
Nowhere is the contrast between the two styles more strongly marked than
in the palace of Agra--from the red stone palace of Akbar, with its rich
sculptures and square Hindu construction, a door opens into the white
marble court of the hareem of Shah Jehan, with all its feeble
prettiness, but at the same time marked with that peculiar elegance
which is found only in the East. The court is not large, 170 ft. by 235
ft., but the whole is finished with the most elaborate care. Three sides
of this are occupied by the residences of the ladies, not remarkable for
size, nor, in their present state, for architectural beauty; but the
fourth, overhanging the river, is occupied by three white marble
pavilions of singular elegance, though it is not easy now to see them,
some English officer having pitched upon the principal one as a
residence, and having in consequence covered the polished marble and
elegant arabesques of flowers inlaid in precious stones with thick
coatings of that whitewash which was indispensable to his idea of
comfort and elegant simplicity.
As in most Moorish palaces, the baths on one side of this court were the
most elegant and elaborately decorated apartments in the palace. The
baths have been destroyed, but the walls and roofs still show the
elegance with which they were adorned.[553]
Behind this, in the centre of the palace, is a great court, 500 ft. by
370 ft. surrounded by arcades, and approached at the opposite ends
through a succession of beautiful courts opening into one another by
gateways of great magnificence. One one side of this court is the great
hall of the palace--the Dewanni Aum--208 ft. by 76 ft., supported by
three ranges of arcades of exquisite beauty. It is open on three sides,
and with a niche for the throne at the back. This, like the hall at
Allahabad, is now an arsenal, and reduced to as near a similarity as
possible to those in our dockyards.[554] Behind it are two smaller
courts, the one containing the Dewanni Khas, or private hall of
audience, the other the hareem. The hall in the former is one of the
most elegant of Shah Jehan’s buildings, being wholly of white marble
inlaid with precious stones, and the design of the whole being in the
best style of his reign.
One of the most picturesque features about this palace is a marble
pavilion, in two storeys, that surmounts one of the circular bastions on
the river face, between the hareem and the Dewanni Khas. It looks of an
earlier style than that of Shah Jehan, and if Jehangir built anything
here it is this. On a smaller scale, it occupies the same place here
that the Chalîs Sitûn did in the palace at Allahabad; and exemplifies,
even more than in their larger buildings, the extreme elegance and
refinement of those who designed these palaces.[555]
PALACE AT DELHI.
Though the palace at Agra is perhaps more picturesque, and historically
certainly more interesting, than that of Delhi, the latter had the
immense advantage of being built at once, on one uniform plan, and by
the most magnificent, as a builder, of all the sovereigns of India. It
had, however, one little disadvantage, in being somewhat later than
Agra. All Shah Jehan’s buildings there, seem to have been finished
before he commenced the erection of the new city of Shah Jehanabad with
its palace, and what he built at Agra is soberer, and in somewhat better
taste than at Delhi. Notwithstanding these defects, the palace at Delhi
is, or rather was, the most magnificent palace in the East--perhaps in
the world--and the only one, at least in India, which enables us to
understand what the arrangements of a complete palace were when
deliberately undertaken and carried out on one uniform plan (Woodcut No.
336).
The palace at Delhi, which is situated like that at Agra close to the
edge of the Jumna, is a nearly regular parallelogram, with the angles
slightly canted off, and measures 1600 ft. east and west, by 3200 ft.
north and south, exclusive of the gateways. It is surrounded on all
sides by a very noble wall of red sandstone, relieved at intervals by
towers surmounted by kiosks. The principal entrance faces the Chandni
Chowk, a noble wide street, nearly a mile long, planted with two rows of
trees, and with a stream of water running down its centre. Entering
within its deeply-recessed portal, you find yourself
[Illustration: 336. Palace at Delhi. (From a native Plan in the
possession of the Author.)]
beneath the vaulted hall, the sides of which are in two storeys, and
with an octagonal break in the centre. This hall, which is 375 ft. in
length over all, has very much the effect of the nave of a gigantic
Gothic cathedral, and forms the noblest entrance known to belong to any
existing palace. At its inner end this hall opened into a courtyard, 350
ft. square, from the centre of which a noble bazaar extended right and
left, like the hall, two storeys in height, but not vaulted. One of
these led to the Delhi gate, the other, which I believe was never quite
finished, to the garden. In front, at the entrance, was the Nobut Khana
(A), or music hall, beneath which the visitor entered the second or
great court of the palace, measuring 550 ft. north and south, by 385 ft.
east and west. In the centre of this stood the Dewanni Aum (B), or great
audience hall of the palace, very similar in design to that at Agra, but
more magnificent. Its dimensions are, as nearly as I can ascertain, 200
ft. by 100 ft. over all. In its centre is a highly ornamental niche, in
which, on a platform of marble richly inlaid with precious stones,[556]
and directly facing the entrance, once stood the celebrated peacock
throne, the most gorgeous example of its class that perhaps even the
East could ever boast of. Behind this again was a garden-court; on its
eastern side was the Rung Mehal (C), or painted hall, containing a bath
and other apartments.
This range of buildings, extending 1600 ft. east and west, divided the
palace into two nearly equal halves. In the northern division of it were
a series of small courts, surrounded by buildings apparently
appropriated to the use of distinguished guests; and in one of them
overhanging the river stood the celebrated Dewanni Khas (D), or private
audience hall--if not the most beautiful, certainly the most highly
ornamented of all Shah Jehan’s buildings. It is larger certainly, and
far richer in ornament than that at Agra, though hardly so elegant in
design; but nothing can exceed the beauty of the inlay of precious
stones with which it is adorned, or the general poetry of the design. It
is round the roof of this hall that the famous inscription runs: “If
there is a heaven on earth it is this, it is this,” which may safely be
rendered into the sober English assertion, that no palace now existing
in the world possesses an apartment of such singular elegance as this.
Beyond this to the northward were the gardens of the palace, laid out in
the usual formal style of the East, but adorned with fountains and
little pavilions and kiosks of white marble, that render these so
beautiful and so appropriate to such a climate.
The whole of the area between the central range of buildings to the
south, and eastward from the bazaar, measuring about 1000 ft. each way,
was occupied by the hareem and private apartments of the palace,
covering, consequently, more than twice the area of the Escurial, or, in
fact, of any palace in Europe. According to the native plan I possess,
which I see no reason for distrusting, it contained three garden courts,
and some thirteen or fourteen other courts, arranged some for state,
some for convenience; but what they were like we have no means of
knowing. Not one vestige of them now remains. Judging from the
corresponding parts of the palace at Agra, built by the same monarch,
they must have vied with the public apartments in richness and in beauty
when originally erected, but having continued to be used as an abode
down to the time of the mutiny, they were probably very much disfigured
and debased. Taste was, no doubt, at as low an ebb inside the walls of
the palace during the last hundred years as it was outside, or as we
find it at Lucknow and elsewhere; but all the essential parts of the
structure were there, and could easily have been disencumbered from the
accretions that had been heaped upon it. The idea, however, of doing
this was far from entering into the heads of our governors. The whole of
the hareem courts of the palace were swept off the face of the earth to
make way for a hideous British barrack, without those who carried out
this fearful piece of Vandalism thinking it even worth while to make a
plan of what they were destroying, or preserving any record of the most
splendid palace in the world.
Of the public parts of the palace all that now remains is the entrance
hall, the Nobut Khana, the Dewanni Aum and Khas, and the Rung Mehal--now
used as a mess-room--and one or two small pavilions. They are the gems
of the palace, it is true, but without the courts and corridors
connecting them they lose all their meaning and more than half their
beauty.[557] Being now situated in the middle of a British barrack-yard,
they look like precious stones torn from their settings in some
exquisite piece of Oriental jeweller’s work and set at random in a bed
of the commonest plaster.[558]
TAJE MEHAL.
It is a pleasure to turn from this destroyed and desecrated palace to
the Taje Mehal, which even more, perhaps, than the palace was always the
chef-d’œuvre of Shah Jehan’s reign (Woodcut No. 337). It, too, has been
fortunate in attracting the attention of the English, who have paid
sedulous attention to it for some time past, and keep it now, with its
gardens, in a perfect state of substantial repair.
No building in India has been so often drawn and photographed as this,
or more frequently described; but, with all this, it is almost
impossible to convey an idea of it to those who have not seen it, not
only because of its extreme delicacy, and beauty of material employed in
its construction, but from the complexity of its design. If the Taje
were only the tomb itself, it might be described, but the platform on
which it stands, with its tall minarets, is a work of art in itself.
Beyond this are the two wings, one of which is a mosque, which anywhere
else would be considered an important building. This group of buildings
forms one side of a garden court 880 ft. square; and beyond this again
an outer court, of the same width but only half the depth. This is
entered by three gateways of its own, and contains in the centre of its
inner wall the great gateway of the garden court, a worthy pendant to
the Taje itself.[559] Beautiful as it is in itself, the Taje would lose
half its charm if it stood alone. It is the combination of so many
beauties, and the perfect manner in which each is subordinated to the
other, that makes up a whole which the world cannot match, and which
never fails to impress even those who are most indifferent to the
effects produced by architectural objects in general.
The plan and section (Woodcuts Nos. 338, 339) explain sufficiently the
general arrangement and structural peculiarities of the tomb or
principal building of the group. The raised platform on which it stands
is 18 ft. high, faced with white marble, and exactly 313 ft. square. At
each corner of this terrace stands a minaret 133 ft.
[Illustration: 337. View of Taje Mehal. (From a Photograph.)]
[Illustration: 338. Plan of Taje Mehal, Agra. (From a Plan by the
Author.) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
[Illustration: 339. Section of Taje Mehal, Agra. Scale 110 ft. to 1
in.]
in height, and of the most exquisite proportions, more beautiful,
perhaps, than any other in India. In the centre of this marble platform
stands the mausoleum, a square of 186 ft., with the corners cut off to
the extent of 33 ft. 9 in. The centre of this is occupied by the
principal dome, 58 ft. in diameter and 80 ft. in height, under which is
an enclosure formed by a screen of trellis-work of white marble, a
chef-d’œuvre of elegance in Indian art.[560] Within this stand the
tombs--that of Mûmtaz-i-Mehal in the centre, and that of Shah Jehan on
one side. These, however, as is usual in Indian sepulchres, are not the
true tombs--the bodies rest in a vault, level with the surface of the
ground (as seen in the section) beneath plainer tombstones, placed
exactly underneath those in the hall above.
In every angle of the building is a small domical apartment of two
storeys in height, 26 ft. 8 in. in diameter, and these are connected, as
shown in the plan, by various passages and halls.
The light to the central apartment is admitted only through double
screens of white marble trellis-work of the most exquisite design, one
on the outer, and one on the inner face of the walls. In our climate
this would produce nearly complete darkness; but in India, and in a
building wholly composed of white marble, this was required to temper
the glare that otherwise would have been intolerable. As it is, no words
can express the chastened beauty of that central chamber, seen in the
soft gloom of the subdued light that reaches it through the distant and
half-closed openings that surround it. When used as a Barrah Durrie, or
pleasure palace, it must always have been the coolest and the loveliest
of garden retreats, and now that it is sacred to the dead it is the most
graceful and the most impressive of the sepulchres of the world.
This building, too, is an exquisite example of that system of inlaying
with precious stones which became the great characteristic of the style
of the Moguls after the death of Akbar. All the spandrils of the Taje,
all the angles and more important architectural details, are heightened
by being inlaid with precious stones, such as agates, bloodstones,
jaspers, and the like. These are combined in wreaths, scrolls, and
frets, as exquisite in design as beautiful in colour; and, relieved by
the pure white marble in which they are inlaid, they form the most
beautiful and precious style of ornament ever adopted in architecture;
though, of course, not to be compared with the intellectual beauty of
Greek ornament, it certainly stands first among the purely decorative
forms of architectural design. This mode of ornamentation is lavishly
bestowed on the tombs themselves and the screen that surrounds them,
though sparingly introduced on the mosque that forms one wing of the
Taje, or on the fountains and surrounding buildings. The judgment,
indeed, with which this style of ornament is apportioned to the various
parts is almost as remarkable as the ornament itself, and conveys a high
idea of the taste and skill of the Indian architects of that age.
The long rows of cypresses, which line the marble paths that intersect
the garden at right angles, are now of venerable age; and, backed up by
masses of evergreen foliage, lend a charm to the whole which the founder
and his children could hardly have realised. Each of the main avenues
among these trees has a canal along its centre studded with marble
fountains, and each vista leads to some beautiful architectural object.
With the Jumna in front, and this garden with its fountains and gateways
behind; with its own purity of material and grace of form, the Taje may
challenge comparison with any creation of the same sort in the whole
world. Its beauty may not be of the highest class, but in its class it
is unsurpassed.
* * * * *
[Illustration: 340. Plan of Mûti Musjid. (From a Plan by Gen.
Cunningham.) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
Though neither so magnificent nor so richly ornamented as some of his
other buildings, the Mûti Musjid, or Pearl Mosque, which Shah Jehan
erected in the fort of Agra, is one of the purest and most elegant
buildings of its class to be found anywhere (Woodcut No. 340). It is not
large, measuring only 187 ft. by 234 ft. over all externally; and though
raised on a lofty stylobate, which ought to give it dignity, it makes no
pretentions to architectural effect on the outside; but the moment you
enter by the eastern gateway the effect of its courtyard is surpassingly
beautiful. The whole is of white marble, and the forms all graceful and
elegant. The only ornament introduced which is not strictly
architectural, is an inscription in black marble, inlaid in the frieze
of the mosque itself. The courtyard is nearly a square, 154 ft. by 158
ft. On three sides it is surrounded by a low colonnade 10 ft. 10 in.
deep; but on the west, by the mosque itself, 159 ft. by 56 ft.
internally. It opens on the court by seven arches of great beauty, and
is surmounted by three domes of the bulbous form that became universal
about this time (Woodcut No. 341). The woodcut cannot do it justice, it
must be seen to be appreciated; but I hardly know, anywhere, of a
building so perfectly pure and elegant, or one that forms such a
wonderful contrast with the buildings of Akbar in the same palace.
[Illustration: 341. View in Courtyard of Mûti Musjid, Agra. (From a
Photograph.)]
The Jumma Musjid at Delhi is not unlike the Mûti Musjid in plan, though
built on a very much larger scale, and adorned with two noble minarets,
which are wanting in the Agra example; while from the somewhat
capricious admixture of red sandstone with white marble, it is far from
possessing the same elegance and purity of effect. It is, however, one
of the few mosques, either in India or elsewhere, that is designed to
produce a pleasing effect externally. As will be seen from the woodcut
(No. 342), it is raised on a lofty basement, and its three gateways,
combined with the four angle-towers and the frontispiece and domes of
the mosque itself, make up a design where all the parts are pleasingly
subordinated to one another, but at the same time produce a whole of
great variety and elegance. Its principal gateway cannot be compared
with that at Futtehpore Sikri (Woodcut No. 331); but it is a noble
portal, and from its smaller dimensions more in harmony with the objects
by which it is surrounded.
It is not a little singular, looking at the magnificent mosque
[Illustration: 342. Great Mosque at Delhi from the N.E. (From a Sketch
by the Author.)]
which Akbar built in his palace at Futtehpore Sikri, and the Mûti
Musjid, with which Shah Jehan adorned the palace at Agra, that he should
have provided no place of worship in his palace at Delhi. The little
Mûti mosque that is now found there was added by Aurungzebe, and, though
pretty enough in itself, is very small, only 60 ft. square over all, and
utterly unworthy of such a palace. There is no place of prayer, within
the palace walls, of the time of Shah Jehan, nor, apparently, any
intention of providing one. The Jumma Musjid was so near, and so
apparently part of the same design, that it seems to have been
considered sufficient to supply this apparently anomalous deficiency.
AURUNGZEBE, A.D. 1658-1707.
There are few things more startling in the history of this style than
the rapid decline of taste that set in with the accession of Aurungzebe.
The power of the Mogul empire reached its culminating point in his
reign, and there were at least no external signs of decay visible before
the end of his reign. Even if his morose disposition did not lead him to
spend much money on palaces or civil buildings, his religious fanaticism
might, one would think, have led him to surpass his predecessors in the
extent or splendour of their mosques or religious establishments. This,
however, is far from being the case. He did, indeed, as mentioned above,
pull down the temple of Vishveshwar, at Benares, in order to erect a
mosque, whose tall and graceful minarets still form one of the most
prominent features in every view of the city. It was not, however, from
any love of architectural magnificence that this was done, but to insult
his Hindu subjects and mark the triumph of Islam over Hinduism. The
mosque itself is of no great magnificence, but none more important was
erected, so far as I know, during his reign.
Few things can show how steadily and rapidly the decline of taste had
set in than the fact that when that monarch was residing at Aurungabad
between the years 1650-70, having lost his favourite daughter, Rabia
Dûranee, he ordered his architects to reproduce an exact copy of his
father’s celebrated tomb, the Taje Mehal, in honour of her memory. They
believed they were doing so, but the difference between the two
monuments, even in so short an interval, is startling. The first stands
alone in the world for certain qualities all can appreciate; the second
is by no means remarkable for any qualities of elegance or design, and
narrowly escapes vulgarity and bad taste. In the beginning of the
present century a more literal copy of the Taje was erected in Lucknow
over the tomb of one of its sovereigns. In this last, however, bad taste
and tawdriness reign supreme. It is difficult to understand how a thing
can be so like in form and so unlike in spirit; but so it is, and these
three Tajes form a very perfect scale by which to measure the decline of
art since the great Mogul dynasty passed its zenith and began its rapid
downward career.
Aurungzebe himself lies buried in a small hamlet just above the caves of
Ellora. The spot is esteemed sacred, but the tomb is mean and
insignificant beyond what would have sufficed for any of his nobles. He
neglected, apparently, to provide for himself this necessary adjunct to
a Tartar’s glory, and his successors were too weak, even had they been
inclined, to supply the omission. Strange to say, the sacred Tulsi-tree
of the Hindus has taken root in a crevice of the brickwork, and is
flourishing there as if in derision of the most bigoted persecutor the
Hindus ever experienced.
We have scarcely any remains of Aurungzebe’s own works, except, as
before observed, a few additions to the palace at Delhi; but during his
reign many splendid palaces were erected, both in the capital and
elsewhere. The most extensive and splendid of these was that built by
his aspiring but unfortunate son Dara Shekoh. It, however, was converted
into the English residency; and so completely have improvements, with
plaster and whitewash, done their work, that it requires some ingenuity
to find out that it was not wholly the work of the Anglo-Saxons.
In the town of Delhi many palaces of the age of Aurungzebe have escaped
this profanation, but generally they are either in ruins or used as
shops; and with all their splendour show too clearly the degradation of
style which had then fairly set in, and which is even more apparent in
the modern capitals of Oude, Hydrabad, and other cities which have risen
into importance during the last hundred years.
Even these capitals, however, are not without edifices of a palatial
class, which from their size and the picturesqueness of their forms
deserve attention, and to an eye educated among the plaster glories of
the Alhambra would seem objects of no small interest and beauty. Few,
however, are built of either marble or squared stone: most of them are
of brick or rubble-stone, and the ornaments in stucco, which, coupled
with the inferiority of their design, will always prevent their being
admired in immediate proximity with the glories of Agra and Delhi.
In a history of Mahomedan art in India which had any pretensions to be
exhaustive, it would be necessary to describe before concluding many
minor buildings, especially tombs, which are found in every corner of
the land. For in addition to the Imperial tombs, mentioned above, the
neighbourhoods of Agra and Delhi are crowded with those of the nobles of
the court, some of them scarcely less magnificent than the mausolea of
their masters.
Besides the tombs, however, in the capitals of the empire, there is
scarcely a city of any importance in the whole course of the Ganges or
Jumna, even as far eastward as Dacca, that does not possess some
specimens of this form of architectural magnificence. Jaunpore and
Allahabad are particularly rich in examples; but Patna and Dacca possess
two of the most pleasing of the smaller class of tombs that are to be
met with anywhere.
OUDE AND MYSORE.
If it were worth while to engrave a sufficient number of illustrations
to make the subject intelligible, one or two chapters might very easily
be filled with the architecture of these two dynasties. That of Mysore,
though only lasting forty years--A.D. 1760-1799--was sufficiently far
removed from European influence to practise a style retaining something
of true architectural character. The pavilion called the Deriah Doulut
at Seringapatam resembles somewhat the nearly contemporary palace at
Deeg in style, but is feebler and of a much less ornamental
character.[561] The tomb, too, of the founder of the dynasty, and the
surrounding mausolea, retain a reminiscence of former greatness, but
will not stand comparison with the Imperial tombs of Agra and Delhi.
On the other hand, the tomb of Saftar Jung, the founder of the Lucknow
dynasty, situated not far from the Kutub at Delhi, is not quite unworthy
of the locality in which it is found. Though so late in date (A.D.
1756), it looks grand and imposing at a distance, but it will not bear
close inspection. Even this qualified praise can hardly be awarded of
any of the buildings in the capital in which his dynasty was finally
established.
If mass and richness of ornamentation were in themselves sufficient to
constitute architecture, few capitals in India could show so much of it
as Lucknow. It is, in fact, amazing to observe to what an extent this
dynasty filled its capitals with gorgeous buildings during the one short
century of its existence, but all--or with the fewest possible
exceptions--in the worst possible taste. Whatever may be said of the
Renaissance, or revival of classical architecture in Europe in the 16th
century, in India it was an unmitigated misfortune. The unintelligent
vulgarity with which the “Orders” are there used, by a people who were
capable of such noble things in their own styles, is one of the most
startling phenomena in the history of architecture. The subject hardly
belongs to this work, and has already been treated of in the ‘History of
Modern Architecture.’[562]
Even at Lucknow, however, there are some buildings into which the
European leaven has not penetrated, and which are worthy of being
mentioned in the same volume as the works of their ancestors. Among
these is the great Imambara, which, though its details will not bear too
close an examination, is still conceived on so grand a scale as to
entitle it to rank with the buildings of an earlier age.
As seen by the plan of the Imambara (Woodcut No. 343), the principal
apartment is 162 ft. long by 53 ft. 6 in. wide. On the two sides are
verandahs, respectively 26 ft. 6 in. and 27 ft. 3 in. wide, and at each
end an octagonal apartment, 53 ft. in diameter, the whole interior
dimensions being thus 263 ft. by 145 ft. This immense building is
covered with vaults of very simple form and still simpler construction,
being of a rubble or coarse concrete several feet in thickness, which is
laid on a rude mould or centering of bricks and mud, and allowed to
stand a year or two to set and dry. The centering is then removed, and
the vault, being in one piece, stands without abutment or thrust,
apparently a better and more durable form of roof than our most
scientific Gothic vaulting; certainly far cheaper and far more easily
made, since it is literally cast on a mud form, which may be moulded
into any shape the fancy of the architect may dictate.
[Illustration: 343. Plan of Imambara at Lucknow. (From Measurements by
the Author.) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]
* * * * *
It would be a curious and instructive subject of speculation to try to
ascertain what would have been the fate of Mahomedan architecture in
India had no European influence been brought to bear upon it. The
materials for the inquiry are not abundant, but we can perceive that the
decadence had set in long before the death of Aurungzebe. It is also
evident that in such buildings as were erected at Agra or Delhi during
the lapse of the 18th century, even where no European influence can be
traced, there is a feebleness and want of true perception, though
occasionally combined with a considerable degree of elegance. There,
however, the inquiry fails, because European influence made itself felt
before any actual change had developed itself, but in remote
[Illustration: 344. Tomb of the late Nawab of Junaghur. (From a
Photograph.)]
corners the downward progress became apparent without any extraneous
assistance. This is partially the case, as just mentioned, in the
Mysore; but there is a cemetery at Junaghur, in Gujerat, where there
exists a group of tombs, all erected within this century, some within
the last twenty or thirty years, which exhibit more nearly than any
others I am acquainted with the forms towards which the style was
tending. The style is not without a certain amount of elegance in detail
(Woodcut No. 344). The tracery of the windows is frequently fascinating
from its beauty, and all the carving is executed with precision and
appropriateness--but it is all wooden, or, in other words, every detail
would be more appropriate for a sideboard or a bedstead, or any article
of upholstery, than for a building in stone. The domes especially can
hardly be traced back to their grand and solemn form as used by the
Pathan architects. The pinnacles are fanciful, and the brackets designed
more for ornament than work. It is a style, in fact, broken loose from
the true principles of constructive design, and when this is the case,
no amount of ornament, however elegant it may be, will redeem the want
of propriety it inevitably exhibits.
It is curious, however, and instructive, in concluding our history of
architecture as practised within the limits of India properly so called,
to observe how completely we have been walking in a circle. We began by
tracing how, two hundred years before Christ, a wooden style was
gradually assuming lithic forms, and by degrees being elaborated into a
style where hardly a reminiscence of wood remained. We conclude with
finding the style of Hullabîd and Bijapur, or Delhi, returning to forms
as appropriate to carpentry but as unsuited to masonry as the rails or
gateways at Bharhut or Sanchi. It might some time ago have been a
question worth mooting whether it was likely it would perish by
persevering in this wrong direction. That enquiry, however, seems idle
now, as it is to be feared that the death-blow will be given, as at
Lucknow and elsewhere, by the fatal imitation of a foreign style.