ANCIENT DELHI—THE ZENĀNA GHĀR.
Ancient Delhi—The Bā’olī—Tombs of Shah’ālam, Bahādur Shah,
and Akbar Shah—The Zenāna Ghār—Extent of the Ruins—The
Observatory—Palace of Shāhjahānabad—The Zenāna—Hyat-ool-Nissa
Begam—Poverty of the Descendants of Tamurlane—The Effect
of a Zenāna education on Man and Woman—Death of Prince
Dara Bukht—The Dewani Am—The Dewani Khas—The Palace—The
Shah-burj—Gardens of Shalimar—Ruins of Palaces and Baths—The
Modern City—Tees Huzzari Bagh—The Madrissa—The Jama Masjid—The
Kala Masjid—Plan of the City of Delhi—Quitted Delhi, and
returned to Meerut—Tomb of Pīr Shah.
1838, _Feb. 22nd._—In the cool of the evening we mounted our horses, and
rode to Ancient Delhi, or Indrapesta, now called Marowlie, the capital
of the former Rajas. At this place, many houses were pointed out to us
as having belonged to the mighty dead; but my attention was arrested by
a bā’olī, an immense well. From the top of the well to the surface of
the water the depth is sixty feet, and the depth of water below forty
feet; just above the surface of the water the side of the well opens on a
flight of stone steps, which lead to the upper regions. I peered over the
well to see the water, and shuddered as I looked into the dark cold depth
below; at that instant a man jumped from the top into the well, sank a
great depth, rose again, and, swimming to the opening, came up the steps
like a drenched rat; three more immediately followed his example, and
then gaily claimed a “_bakshish_,” or reward, begging a rupee, which was
given: we did not stay to see the sport repeated, at which the jumpers
appeared disappointed.
Quitting the bā’olī, we visited the tombs of the three last emperors
of Delhi,—Bahādur Shah, Shah’ālam, and Akbar Shah. The latter had been
placed there within a few weeks; the tomb of Shah’ālam is of white
marble, and about eighteen inches distant from that of the Emperor
Bahādur Shah, over whose tomb flourishes a white jasmine. How are the
mighty fallen! I had visited the tomb of Humaioon, and the still grander
monument of Akbar at Secundra; had admired the magnificent building,
its park and portal. The last Akbar reposes side by side with the two
former emperors. Three marble tombs, prettily sculptured, in a small open
court, the walls of which are of white marble, is all that adorns the
burial-place of the descendants of Tamurlane!
The building that most interested me was the Royal Zenāna Ghār. At
certain times of the year the Emperor of Delhi used to retire to this
spot with all his ladies; the place is prettily situated amidst rocks
and trees: there, seated at ease on his cushions of state, his amusement
was to watch the sports of the ladies of the zenāna, as they jumped from
the roof of a verandah into the water below, and then came up to jump in
again. On the other side is another tank, with a sloping bank of masonry;
on this slope the ladies used to sit, and slide down into the tank.
In the water, amidst the trees, the graceful drapery of the Musulmanī
and Hindū ladies clinging to their well-formed persons must have had a
beautiful effect. During these sports guards were stationed around, to
prevent the intrusion of any profane eye on the sacredness of the zenāna.
At 9 P.M. we revisited the minār: the night was remarkably fine, no
moon, but a dark blue, clear star-light. The minār is fine by day, its
magnitude surprising; but, by night, a feeling of awe is inspired by its
unearthly appearance. If you ask a native, “Who built the Kutab?” his
answer will generally be,—“God built it;—who else could have built it?”
And such is the feeling as you stand at the base, looking up to the top
of the column of the polar star, which appears to tower into the skies: I
could not withdraw my eyes from it; the ornaments, beautiful as they are
by day, at night, shadowed as they were into the mass of building, only
added to its grandeur. We roamed through the colonnades, in the court of
the beautiful arches, and returned most unwillingly to our tents.
_23rd._—Quitted the Kutab without revisiting Tuglukabad, our time
not admitting of it; and I greatly regretted not having the power of
visiting the tombs that surrounded us on every side the ruins of Ancient
Delhi. The extent of these ruins is supposed not to be less than a
circumference of twenty miles, reckoning from the gardens of Shalimar,
on the north-west, to the Kutab Minār, on the south-east, and proceeding
thence along the centre of the old city, by way of the mausoleum of
Nizam-al-Deen, the tomb of Humaioon, which adjoins, and the old fort of
Delhi, on the Jumna, to the Ajmeer gate of Shāhjahānabad. The environs to
the north and west are crowded with the remains of the spacious gardens
and country houses of the nobility, which in former times were abundantly
supplied with water, by means of the noble canal dug by Ali Merdan Khan.
Franklin remarks,—“Ancient Delhi is said by historians to have been
erected by Rajah Delu, who reigned in Hindūstan prior to the invasion
of Alexander the Great: others affirm it to have been built by Rajah
Pettouvar, who flourished at a much later period. It is called in
Sanscrit _Indraput_, or the Abode of _Indra_, one of the Hindū deities,
and is thus distinguished in the royal diplomas of the Chancery office.”
THE OBSERVATORY.
On our road home, about a mile and a half from the present city of Delhi,
we stopped to visit the Observatory, _Jantr-Mantr_, a building well
worthy the inspection of the traveller. The name of Jayasinha, the Rajah
of Ambhere, or Jayanagar, and his astronomical labours, are not unknown
in Europe; but yet the extent of his exertions in the cause of science
is little known; his just claims to superior genius and zeal demand
some enumeration of the labours of one whose name is conspicuous in the
annals of Hindūstan. Jey-sing or Jayasinha succeeded to the inheritance
of the ancient Rajahs of Ambhere in the year of Vicramadittya 1750,
corresponding to 1693 of the Christian æra. His mind had been early
stored with the knowledge contained in the Hindū writings, but he appears
to have peculiarly attached himself to the mathematical sciences, and his
reputation for skill in them stood so high, that he was chosen by the
Emperor Mahommed Shah to reform the calendar, which, from the inaccuracy
of the existing tables, had ceased to correspond with the actual
appearance of the heavens. Jayasinha undertook the task, and constructed
a new set of tables; which, in honour of the reigning prince, he named
Zeej Mahommedshahy. By these, almanacks are constructed at Delhi, and all
astronomical computations made at the present time.
The five observatories, which were built and finished by Jayasinha, still
exist in a state more or less perfect; they were erected at Jeypoor,
Matra, Benares, Oujein, and Delhi.
The next observatory, in point of size and preservation, is that at
Oujein; it is situated at the southern extremity of the city, in the
quarter called _Jeysingpoorah_, and where are still the remains of a
palace of Jayasinha, who was subahdar of Malwa in the time of Mahommed
Shah. The observatory at Oujein has since been converted into an arsenal
and foundry of cannon.
At Matra, the remains of the observatory are in the fort which was built
by Jayasinha on the banks of the Jumna.
The observatory at Delhi is situated without the wall of the city, at
the distance of one mile and a quarter. It consists of several detached
buildings:—
1. A large equatorial dial: its form is pretty entire, but the edges of
the gnomon, and those of the circle on which the degrees were marked,
are broken in several places. This is the instrument called by Jayasinha
_semrat-yunter_ (the prince of dials). It is built of stone, but the
edges of the gnomon, and of the arches where the gradation was, were of
white marble; a few small portions of which only remain.
2. At a little distance from this instrument, towards the north-west,
is another equatorial dial; more entire, but smaller and of a different
construction. In the middle stands a gnomon, which, as usual in these
buildings, contains a staircase up to the top. On each side of this
gnomon are two concentric semicircles, having for their diameters the two
edges of the gnomon; it is evident that they represent meridians. On each
side of this post is another gnomon, equal in size to the former; and to
the eastward and westward of them are the arches on which the hours are
marked.
3. The north wall of this building connects the three gnomons at their
highest end; and on this wall is described a graduated semicircle, for
taking the altitudes of bodies that lie due east, or due west, from the
eye of the observer.
4. To the westward of this building, and close to it, is a wall, in the
plane of the meridian, on which is described a double quadrant, having
for the centres the two upper corners of the wall, for observing the
altitudes of bodies passing the meridian, either to the north or south of
the zenith.
5. To the southward of the dial are two buildings, named _Ustuánah_. They
exactly resemble one another, and are designed for the same purpose,
which is, to observe the altitude and azimuth of the heavenly bodies.
They are two in number, on purpose that two persons may observe at the
same time, and so compare and correct their observations.
These buildings are circular; and in the centre of each is a pillar, of
the same height as the building itself, which is open at top. From this
pillar to the height of about three feet from the bottom, proceed radii
of stone, horizontally, to the circular wall of the building.
6. Between these two buildings and the great equatorial dial is an
instrument called _shamlah_. It is a concave hemispherical surface,
formed of mason work, to represent the inferior hemisphere of the heavens.
The best and most authentic account of the labours of Jayasinha for the
completion of his work and the advancement of astronomical knowledge, is
contained in his own preface to the _Zeej Mahommedshahy_; from which the
following extract is a literal translation:—
“To accomplish the exalted command which he had received, he (Jey-sing)
bound the girdle of resolution about the loins of his soul, and
constructed here (at Delhi) several of the instruments of an observatory,
such as had been erected at Samarcand, agreeably to the _Musalman_
books: such as _Zat-ul-huluck_, of brass, in diameter three _guz_ of the
measure now in use (which is nearly equal to two cubits of the Koran),
and _Zat-ul-shobetein_, and _Zat-ul-suchetein_, and _Suds-Fukheri_,
and _Shamlah_. But finding that brass instruments did not come up to
the ideas that he had formed of accuracy, because of the smallness of
their size, the want of division into minutes, the shaking and wearing
of their axes, the displacement of the centres of the circles, and the
shifting of the planes of the instruments; he concluded that the reason
why the determinations of the ancients, such as Hipparchus and Ptolemy,
proved inaccurate, must have been of this kind; therefore he constructed
in _Dar-ul-kheláfet_, _Shah-Jehanabad_, which is the seat of empire and
prosperity, instruments of his own invention, such as _Jey-per-gàs_ and
_Ram-junter_, and _Semrat-junter_, the semi-diameter of which is eighteen
cubits, and one minute on it is a barleycorn and a half, of stone and
lime, of perfect stability, with attention to the rules of geometry
and adjustment to the meridian, and to the latitude of the place, and
with care in the measuring and fixing of them; so that the inaccuracies
from the shaking of the circles, and the wearing of their axes, and
displacement of their centres, and the inequality of the minutes, might
be corrected.
“Thus an accurate method of constructing an observatory was established;
and the difference which had existed between the computed and observed
places of the fixed stars and planets, by means of observing their mean
motions and aberrations with such instruments, was removed. And, in order
to confirm the truth of these observations, he constructed instruments of
the same kind in Sewaī Jeypoor, and Matra, and Benares, and Oujein.”
After this most interesting visit to the Observatory, we returned to
Delhi.
THE ZENĀNA.
During my visit at Khāsgunge, Mr. James Gardner gave me an introduction
to one of the princesses of Delhi, Hyat-ool-Nissa Begam, the aunt of the
present, and sister of the late king. Mr. James Gardner is her adopted
son. The princess sent one of her ladies to say she should be happy
to receive me, and requested me to appoint an hour. The weather was
excessively hot, but my time was so much employed I had not an hour to
spare but one at noon-day, which was accordingly fixed upon.
I was taken in a palanquin to the door of the court of the building set
apart for the women, where some old ladies met and welcomed me. Having
quitted the palanquin, they conducted me through such queer places,
filled with women of all ages; the narrow passages were dirty and wet,—an
odd sort of entrance to the apartment of a princess!
Under a verandah, I found the princess seated on a _gaddī_, of a
green colour. In this verandah she appeared to live and sleep, as her
_charpāī_, covered with a green _razā’ī_, stood at the further end. She
is an aged woman; her features, which are good, must have been handsome
in youth; now they only tell of good descent. Green is the mourning worn
by the followers of the prophet. The princess was in mourning for her
late brother, the Emperor Akbar Shah. Her attire consisted of trowsers of
green satin, an angiya, or boddice of green, and a cashmere shawl of the
same colour: jewels are laid aside during the days of _mātam_ (mourning).
I put off my shoes before I stepped on the white cloth that covered the
carpet, and advancing, made my _bahut bahut adab salām_, and presented
a _nazr_ of one gold mohur. The princess received me very kindly, gave
me a seat by her side, and we had a long conversation. It is usual to
offer a gold mohur on visiting a person of rank; it is the homage paid
by the inferior to the superior: on the occasion of a second visit it is
still correct to offer a _nazr_, which may then consist of a bouquet of
freshly-gathered flowers. The compliment is graciously received, this
homage being the custom of the country.
I had the greatest difficulty in understanding what the Begam said, the
loss of her teeth rendering her utterance imperfect. After some time, she
called for her women to play and sing for my amusement. I was obliged to
appear pleased, but my aching head would willingly have been spared the
noise. Her adopted son, the son of the present King Bahadur Shah, came
in; he is a remarkably fine, intelligent boy, about ten years old, with a
handsome countenance. Several other young princes also appeared, and some
of their betrothed wives, little girls of five and six years old: the
girls were plain. The princess requested me to spend the day with her;
saying that if I would do so, at 4 P.M. I should be introduced to the
emperor (they think it an indignity to call him the king), and if I would
stay with her until the evening, I should have nāches for my amusement
all night. In the mean time she desired some of her ladies to show me
the part of the palace occupied by the zenāna. Her young adopted son,
the heir-apparent, took my hand, and conducted me over the apartments of
the women. The ladies ran out to see the stranger: my guide pointed them
all out by name, and I had an opportunity of seeing and conversing with
almost all the begams. A plainer set I never beheld: the verandahs, in
which they principally appeared to live, and the passages between the
apartments, were _mal propre_. The young prince led me through different
parts of the palace, and I was taken into a superb hall: formerly
fountains had played there; the ceiling was painted and inlaid with gold.
In this hall were three old women on charpāīs (native beds), looking like
hags; and over the marble floor, and in the place where fountains once
played, was collected a quantity of offensive black water, as if from the
drains of the cook rooms. From a verandah, the young prince pointed out a
bastion in which the king was then asleep, and I quitted that part of the
palace, fearing the talking of those who attended me, and the laughing of
the children, might arouse his majesty from his noon-day slumbers.
On my return to the princess I found her sister with her, a
good-humoured, portly-looking person. They were both seated on chairs,
and gave me one. This was in compliment, lest the native fashion of
sitting on the ground might fatigue me. The heat of the sun had given me
a violent headache. I declined staying to see the king, and requested
permission to depart.
Four trays, filled with fruit and sweetmeats, were presented to me; two
necklaces of jasmine flowers, fresh gathered, and strung with tinsel,
were put round my neck; and the princess gave me a little embroidered bag
filled with spices. It is one of the amusements of the young girls in a
zenāna to embroider little bags, which they do very beautifully; these
they fill with spices and betel-nut, cut up into small bits; this mixture
they take great delight in chewing. An English lady is not more vain of
a great cat and kitten with staring eyes, worked by herself in Berlin
wool, than the ladies behind the parda of their skill in embroidery. On
taking my departure the princess requested me to pay her another visit;
it gave her pleasure to speak of her friends at Khāsgunge. She is herself
a clever, intelligent woman, and her manners are good. I had satisfied
my curiosity, and had seen native life in a palace; as for beauty, in a
whole zenāna there may be two or three handsome women, and all the rest
remarkably ugly. I looked with wonder at the number of plain faces round
me.
When any man wishes to ascend the minarets of the Jāma Masjid, he is
obliged to send word to the captain of the gate of the palace, that the
ladies may be apprised, and no veiled one may be beheld, even from that
distance: the fame of the beauty of the _generality_ of the women may
be continued, provided they never show their faces. Those women who are
beautiful are very rare, but then their beauty is very great; the rest
are generally plain. In England beauty is more commonly diffused amongst
all classes. Perhaps the most voluptuously beautiful woman I ever saw was
an Asiatic.
I heard that I was much blamed for visiting the princess, it being
supposed I went for the sake of presents. Natives do not offer presents
unless they think there is something to be gained in return; and that I
knew perfectly well. I went there from curiosity, not avarice, offered
one gold mohur, and received in return the customary sweetmeats and
necklaces of flowers. Look at the poverty, the wretched poverty of these
descendants of the emperors! In former times strings of pearls and
valuable jewels were placed on the necks of departing visitors. When the
Princess Hyat-ool-Nissa Begam in her fallen fortunes put the necklace of
freshly-gathered white jasmine flowers over my head, I bowed with as much
respect as if she had been the queen of the universe. Others may look
upon these people with contempt, I cannot; look at what they are, at what
they have been!
The indecision and effeminacy of the character of the emperor is often
a subject of surprise. Why should it be so? where is the difference in
intellect between a man and a woman brought up in a zenāna? _There_ they
both receive the same education, and the result is similar. In Europe
men have so greatly the advantage of women from receiving a superior
education, and in being made to act for, and depend upon themselves from
childhood, that of course the superiority is on the male side; the women
are kept under and have not fair play.
One day a gentleman, speaking to me of the _extravagance_ of one of the
young princes, mentioned he was always in debt, he could never live upon
his allowance. The allowance of the prince was twelve rupees a month!—not
more than the wages of a head servant.
With respect to my visit, I felt it hard to be judged by people who
were ignorant of my being the friend of the relatives of those whom I
visited in the zenāna. People who themselves had, perhaps, no curiosity
respecting native life and manners, and who, even if they had the
curiosity, might have been utterly unable to gratify it, unless by an
introduction which they were probably unable to obtain.
It is a curious fact, that a native lady in a large house always selects
the smallest room for her own apartment. A number of ladies from the
palace at Delhi were staying in a distant house, to which place a friend
having gone to visit them, found them all in the bathing-room, they
having selected that as the smallest apartment in which they could crowd
together.
I will here insert an extract from the Delhi Gazette of Jan. 13th, 1849.
“On Thursday morning, departed this life, Prince Dara Bukht,
heir-apparent to the throne of Delhi, and with him, we have some reason
to believe, all the right of the royal house to the succession, such
having been guaranteed to him individually, and to no other member of the
family. We sincerely trust that such is really the case, and that our
Government will now be in a position to adopt steps for making efficient
arrangements for the dispersion, with a suitable provision, of the family
on the death of the present king. The remains of the deceased prince were
interred near Cheeragh Delhi within a few hours of his death. It is a
curious fact, that nearly all the native papers have long since omitted
the designation of ‘Padshah’ when alluding to the King of Delhi, styling
him merely ‘Shah.’”
It was too hot for me to venture round the walls of the palace, and I
only paid a flying visit to the _Dīwān-i-am_, or Hall of Public Audience,
and to the _Dīwān-i-khāss_, or Hall of Private Audience. The latter is
built of white marble, beautifully ornamented, and the roof is supported
on colonnades of marble pillars. In this hall the peacock throne stands
in the centre; it is ascended by steps, and covered with a canopy, with
four artificial peacocks at the four corners. Around the exterior of
the _Dīwān-i-khāss_, in the cornice, is the well-known inscription, in
letters of gold, upon a ground of white marble: “If there be a paradise
on earth, it is this, it is this[26].” The terrace of this building is
composed of large slabs of white marble, and the building is crowned at
the top with four pavilions or cupolas of the same materials.
The palace is 3000 feet long, 1800 broad, and at one time would have held
10,000 horse: the building it is said cost about £1,000,000 sterling.
The royal baths, a little to the northward of the _Dīwān-i-khāss_,
consist of three very large rooms, surmounted by domes of white marble:
adjoining to the baths is a fine mosque.
In the royal gardens is a very large octagonal room, facing the Jumna,
called _Shah Burj_, or the Royal Tower, which is lined with marble.
Through the window of this room Prince Mirza Juwaun Bukht made his escape
in 1784, when he fled to Lucnow. The Rohillas, who were introduced by
Gholaum Cadir Khan, stripped many of the rooms of their marble ornaments
and pavements.
It was my intention to have gone round the walls in the cool of the
evening, with my relative, but I was so much disgusted with the
ill-natured remarks I had heard, I would not enter the place again.
The gardens of Shalimar are worthy of a visit, from which the prospect to
the south, towards Delhi, as far as the eye can reach, is covered with
the remains of extensive gardens, pavilions, mosques, and burial-places.
The environs of this once magnificent city appear now nothing more than a
heap of ruins, and the country around is equally desolate and forlorn:—
“The spider hath woven his web in the royal palace of the Cæsars,
The owl standeth sentinel on the watch-towers of Afrasiab!”
_Sadi._
“The lonely spider’s thin grey pall
Waves slowly widening o’er the wall;
The bat builds in his harem bower;
And, in the fortress of his power,
The owl usurps the beacon-tower;
The wild dog howls o’er the fountain’s brim,
With baffled thirst, and famine, grim;
For the stream has shrunk from its marble bed,
Where the weeds and the desolate dust are spread.”
_Byron._
“Within the city of New Delhi are the remains of many splendid palaces,
belonging to the great omrahs of the empire; among the largest are those
of Cummer-o’-deen Cawn, vizier to Mahmud Shah; Ali Merdan Khan, the
Persian; the Nawab Gazooddeen Cawn; Seftur Jung’s; the garden of Coodseah
Begam, mother of Mahmud Shah; the palace of Sadut Khan; and that of
Sultan Darah Shekoah.”
“The baths of Sadut Khan are a set of beautiful rooms, paved, and lined
with white marble; they consist of five distinct apartments, into which
light is admitted by glazed windows at the top of the domes. Sefdur
Jung’s Teh Khana consists of a set of apartments, built in a delicate
style; one long room, in which is a marble reservoir the whole length,
and a smaller one raised and balustraded on each side; both faced
throughout with white marble. Adjoining the palace is the fort of Selīm,
_Selīm-garh_; it communicates by a bridge of stone, built over an arm of
the river, and is now entirely in ruins.
“The modern city of Shāhjahānabad is rebuilt, and contains many good
houses, chiefly of brick; the streets are in general narrow, as is usual
in most of the large cities of Asia; but there were formerly two very
noble streets, the first leading to the palace gate, through the city,
to the Delhi gate, in a direction north and south. This street was very
broad and spacious, having handsome houses on each side of the way, and
merchants’ shops, well furnished with a variety of the richest articles.
Shāhjahān caused an aqueduct of red stone to be made, which conveyed
the water the whole length of the street, and thence, by a reservoir
underground, into the royal gardens. Remains of this aqueduct are still
to be seen, but it is in most parts choked up with rubbish. The second
grand street entered in the same manner from the palace to the Lahore
gate; it lay east and west, and was equal in all respects to the former;
but, in both of them, the inhabitants have spoiled the beauty of their
appearance by running a line of houses down the centre; and, in other
places, across the street; so that it is with difficulty a person can
discover, without narrowly inspecting, their former position.”
“In the neighbourhood of the Cabul gate is a garden, called Tees Huzzari
Bagh, in which is the tomb of the Queen Malika Zemani, wife of the
Emperor Mahmud Shah. On a rising ground near this garden, whence there
is a fine prospect of the city, are two broken columns of brown granite,
eight feet high, and two and a half in breadth, on which are inscriptions
in ancient characters.”
Near the Ajimere gate is a Madrasa, or college, erected by Gazooddeen
Cawn, nephew of Nizam-ool-Mooluk; it is built of red stone, and situated
in the centre of a spacious quadrangle, with a fountain, lined with
stone. At the upper end of the area is a handsome mosque, built of red
stone, and inlaid with white marble. This college is now uninhabited.
Modern Delhi has been built upon two rocky eminences; the one where the
Jāma Masjid is situated, named Jujula Pahar; and the other called Bejula
Pahar; from both of these you have a commanding view of the rest of the
city.
THE JĀMA MASJID.
_24th._—We visited this noble masjid,—the finest I have seen; no
difficulty was made in allowing us to inspect it. “The gate of the house
of God is always open[27]:” not only literally, but also to converts.
“This mosque is situated about a quarter of a mile from the
royal palace; the foundation of it was laid upon a rocky
eminence, named Jujula Pahar, and has been scarped on purpose.
The ascent to it is by a flight of stone steps, thirty-five
in number, through a handsome gateway of red stone. The doors
of this gateway are covered throughout with plates of wrought
brass, which Mr. Bernier imagined to be copper. The terrace on
which the mosque is situated is a square, of about fourteen
hundred yards of red stone; in the centre is a fountain, lined
with marble, for the purpose of performing the necessary
ablutions previous to prayer.
“An arched colonnade of red stone surrounds the whole of the
terrace, which is adorned with octagonal pavilions for sitting
in. The mosque is of an oblong form, two hundred and sixty-one
feet in length, surmounted by three magnificent domes of white
marble, interspersed with black stripes, and flanked by two
_minarets_ of black marble and red stone alternately, rising
to the height of an hundred and thirty feet. Each of these
minarets has three projecting galleries of white marble, having
their summits crowned with light octagonal pavilions of the
same. The whole front of the building is faced with large
slabs of beautiful white marble; and along the cornice are ten
compartments, four feet long, and two and a half broad, which
are inlaid with inscriptions in black marble, in the _Nishki_
character; and are said to contain the greater part, if not
the whole, of the _Koran_. The inside of the mosque is paved
throughout, with large slabs of white marble, decorated with
a black border, and is wonderfully beautiful and delicate;
the slabs are about three feet in length, by one and a half
broad. The walls and roof are lined with plain white marble;
and near the _kibla_ is a handsome _taak_, or niche, which
is adorned with a profusion of frieze-work. Close to this is
a _mimbar_ or pulpit of marble, which has an ascent of four
steps, balustraded. _Kibla_ literally implies compass, but here
means a small hollow or excavation in the walls of Muhammadan
mosques, so situated on the erection of the buildings as always
to look towards the city of Mecca.
“The ascent to the minarets is by a winding staircase of an
hundred and thirty steps of red stone; and, at the top, the
spectator is gratified by a noble view of the King’s Palace,
the Cuttub Minar, the Hurran Minar, Humaioon’s Mausoleum, the
Palace of Feroze Shah, the Fort of old Delhi, and the Fort of
Loni, on the opposite bank of the river Jumna. The domes are
crowned with cullises of copper, richly gilt; and present a
glittering appearance from afar off. This mosque was begun by
the Emperor Shāhjahān, in the fourth year of his reign, and
completed in the tenth. The expenses of its erection amounted
to ten lākh of rupees; and it is in every respect worthy of
being the great cathedral of the empire of Hindūstan.”—FRANKLIN.
Exclusive of the mosques before described, there are in Shāhjahānabad
and its environs above forty others; most of them of inferior size and
beauty, but all of them of a similar fashion. In the evening, we drove to
the Turkoman gate of the city, to see the Kala Masjid or Black Mosque.
We found our way with difficulty into the very worst part of Delhi: my
companion had never been there before, and its character was unknown to
us; he did not much like my going over the mosque, amid the wretches that
surrounded us; but my curiosity carried the day. The appearance of the
building from the entrance is most singular and extraordinary; it would
form an excellent subject for a sketch. You ascend a flight of stone
steps, and then enter the gateway of the masjid: the centre is a square;
the pillars that support the arches are of rude construction,—stone
placed upon stone, without mortar between; there are twelve or fifteen
small domes on three sides of the square. I wished to sketch the place,
but my relative hurried me away, fearful of insult from the people
around. The masjid was built four hundred and fifty years ago, before the
building of the modern Delhi. The tradition of the place is this:—
In former times the masjid was built of white stone. A father committed
a horrible crime within its walls. The stones of the masjid turned from
white to black. It obtained the name of the black mosque. No service was
ever performed there, and the spot was regarded as unholy: none but the
lowest of the people now frequent the place; and any stranger visiting
it might as well take a barkindāz as a protection against insult. Hindoo
Rāo, the brother of the Bāiza Bā’ī, lives near Delhi, in the house of the
late Mr. Frazer; he came in his curricle to call on Captain S⸺: I saw
him; he is a short, thick-set, fat Mahratta, very independent in speech
and bearing. After some conversation, he arose to depart, shook hands
with me, and said, “How do you do?” thinking he was bidding me “good
night.” This being all the English he has acquired, he is very fond of
displaying it. Some young officer, in a fit of tamāshā (_i.e._ fun) must
have taught him his “How do you do.”
There is no guide-book to conduct a stranger over the city of Delhi,
or to point out the position of its numerous gates; I have therefore
added a plan of the city, which we found very useful when arranging our
excursions, and I have made numerous extracts from Franklin to point out
places worthy of a visit[28].
_25th._—Quitted Delhi, and encamped the first march at Furrudnagar on our
return to Meerut; it was too hot for tents.
_26th._—Encamped at Begamabad: I was very unwell; the annoyance of
thieves around my tent, and the greater plague of fever, kept me awake
all night.
_27th._—Was driven into Meerut the whole march, being unable to sit on
my horse; called in medical aid, and was confined for six days to my
charpāī, unable to rise from fever, influenza, and severe cough.
_March 11th._—Just able to creep about. Captain A⸺ drove me to see the
tomb of Aboo, a very fine one near the prison at Meerut: its history I
forget, and I was too ill to attempt to sketch it.
Thence we drove to the tomb of Pīr Shāh, near the gate of the city. It
is in ruins; the verandah that once ornamented it has fallen to the
ground. The tomb is peculiar, the dome has only been raised two feet and
so finished: this has been so left purposely, that the sunshine and the
dews of heaven may fall on the marble sarcophagus of the saint who sleeps
within the building. Around the tomb are a number of the graves of the
faithful. Perhaps the exertion of taking a drive made me ill again; and
the relative with whom I was staying not admiring this return of fever,
determined to take me instantly to the hills.