The Critic in the Orient
Lucknow is the fifth city in size in the Indian Empire. It is reached by a six hours' ride from Benares which is interesting, as the railroad runs through a good farming country, in which many of the original trees have been left. Lucknow at the outbreak of the mutiny was fortunate in the possession of one of the ablest army commanders in the Indian service. Sir Henry Lawrence, when he saw that mutiny was imminent, gathered a large supply of stores and ammunition in the Residency at Lucknow. When the siege began Lawrence found himself in a well-fortified place, with large supplies. About one thousand refugees were in the Residency and the safety of these people was due largely to the massive walls of the building and to the skill and courage with which the defense was handled. In reading the story of this siege of five months, from June to November, it seems incredible that a small garrison could withstand so constant a bombardment of heavy guns and so harassing a fire of small arms; but when you go through the Residency the reason is obvious. Here are the ruins of a building erected by an old Arab chief during the Mohammedan rule in Lucknow. The walls are from three to five feet in thickness, of a kind of flat, red brick like the modern tile. When laid up well in good mortar such walls are as solid as though built of stone. What added to the safety of the building was the great underground apartments, built originally for summer quarters for the old Moslem's harem, but used during the siege as a retreat for the women and children. So well protected were these rooms that only one shell ever penetrated them and this shot did no damage. The building reveals traces of the heavy fire to which it was subjected, but in no case were the walls broken down.
The story of the siege of Lucknow has been told by poets and prose writers for over a half century, but the theme is still full of interest. Tennyson dealt with it in a ballad that is full of fire, each verse ending with the spirited refrain:
And ever upon the topmost roof the banner of England blew.
All that it is necessary to do here is to refresh the reader's memory with the salient events. The besieged were admirably handled by competent officers and they beat off repeated attacks by the mutineers (who outnumbered them more than one hundred to one). Lawrence was fatally wounded on July the second and died two days later. In September General Havelock, after desperate fighting, made his way into Lucknow, but his force was so small that only fifteen hundred men were added to the garrison. It was not until November the seventeenth that the garrison was finally relieved by the union of forces under Havelock and Outram and Sir Colin Campbell. Never in the history of warfare has a garrison had to endure greater hardships than that of Lucknow. Incessant attacks by night and day kept the small force worn out by constant guard duty and, to add to their miseries, intense heat was made more merciless by swarms of flies. When one bears in mind that the Indian summer brings heat of from one hundred and ten to one hundred and forty degrees it may be seen how great was the courage of the garrison that could fight bravely and cheerfully under such heavy odds. The memorial tablets at Lucknow, Delhi, Cawnpore and other places bear witness to this heroism of the British soldier during the mutiny, but you do not fully appreciate this splendid courage until you see the country and feel the power of its sun.
Cawnpore, which is only three hours' ride from Lucknow, is another city of India that recalls the saddest tragedy of the mutiny. Here it was that bad judgment of the general in charge led to great suffering and the final butchery of all except a few of the residents. Sir Hugh Wheeler, a veteran officer, wisely doubted the fidelity of the Sepoys and decided to establish a place where he could store supplies and assure a safe asylum for the women and children; but, instead of selecting the magazine, which was on the river and had strong walls, he actually went down two miles in a level plain and threw up earth entrenchments. This he did because he said he feared to excite the suspicion of the Sepoys and thus incite them to revolt. The result was disastrous, for the earth walls that he raised furnished poor protection and the place was raked by the native artillery and small arms from every point of the compass. A worse place to defend could not have been chosen, but the twenty officers and two hundred men held it against a horde of mutinous natives for twenty days of blazing heat. The only water for the little garrison was obtained under severe fire of the enemy from a well sixty feet deep.
Finally, when the supply of provisions was nearly exhausted, General Wheeler agreed to surrender to the Nana Sahib, provided the men were allowed to carry arms and ammunition and boats were furnished for safe conduct down the river. Of course, the Nana accepted these terms, but it seems incredible that a veteran army officer should have trusted the lives of women and children to Sepoys who were as cruel as our own Apaches. The little garrison, with the wounded, the women and the children, was escorted down to the river and placed on barges. But when the order was given to push off, the treacherous Sepoys grounded the boats in the mud and the gunners of Nana Sahib opened fire on the barges. The grape shot set fire to the matting of the barges and many of the wounded were smothered. One boat escaped down the river, but the survivors were captured after several days of hardship, the men murdered and the women and children brought back to Cawnpore. The men in the other boats who survived were shot, but one hundred and twenty-five women and children were returned to Cawnpore as prisoners. They spent seven anxious days and then when Nana Sahib saw he could not hold Cawnpore any longer he ordered the Sepoys to shoot the English women and children. To the credit of these mutineers they refused to obey orders and fired into the ceiling of the wretched rooms where the prisoners were lodged. Then Nana Sahib sent for five butchers and these men, with their long knives, murdered the helpless victims of this monster of cruelty. On the following morning the bodies of dead and dying were cast into the well at Cawnpore. On the site of this well has been raised a costly memorial surmounted by a marble angel of the resurrection. The design is not impressive, but no one can see it without pity for the unfortunates who were delivered into the hands of the most atrocious character of modern times. The Memorial Church at Cawnpore, which cost one hundred thousand dollars, contains a series of tablets to those who fell in the mutiny.
The Taj Mahal, The World's Loveliest Building
Agra is chiefly noteworthy for the Taj Mahal, which is acknowledged to be the most beautiful building in the world; though the city would be worthy of a visit because of the many splendid mosques and palaces built by the great Mogul emperors and others. In fact, Agra was the capital of the Mohammedan empire in north India until Aurungzeb moved it permanently to Delhi; hence the city is rich in specimens of the best Moslem work in forts, palaces, mosques and tombs.
Agra has about two hundred thousand population. It is on the Jumna river and is almost equally distant from Calcutta and Bombay, eight hundred and forty-two miles from the former and eight hundred and forty-nine miles from the latter. It will impress any traveler by its cleanliness when compared with Calcutta, Benares or Lucknow. The land seems to be more fertile than that around any of these three cities and the standard of living higher. The shops are clean and bright and a specialty is made of gold and silver embroidery and imitation of the old Mohammedan inlay work in marble. Most of the fine Moslem architecture is found inside the ancient fort, which, with its massive wall, is in a good state of preservation.
The Taj Mahal may be seen many times without losing any of its charm. It is reached by a short drive from the city and its beautiful dome and minarets may be seen from many parts of Agra and its suburbs. This tomb, built of white marble, was erected by Shah Jehan, the chief builder among the Mogul Emperors of India, in memory of his favorite wife, Arjmand Banu. She married Shah Jehan in 1615 and died fourteen years after, as she was giving birth to her eighth child. Shah Jehan, who had already built many fine palaces and mosques, determined to perpetuate her memory for all time by erecting the finest tomb in the world. So he planned the Taj, which required twenty-two years and twenty million dollars to build; but so well was the work done that nearly three hundred years have left little trace on its walls or its splendid decorations.
This Mogul despot, who knew many women, spent an imperial fortune in fashioning this noblest memorial to love ever built by the hand of man. Incidentally he probably sacrificed twenty thousand coolies, for he built the Taj by forced labor, the same kind that reared the pyramids and carved the sphinx. All the material was brought from great distances. The white marble came from Jeypore and was hauled in bullock carts or carried by elephants; the jasper came from the Punjab, the jade from China and the precious stones from many parts of Central Asia, from Thibet to Arabia.
The Emperor summoned the best architects and workers in precious stones of his time and asked them for designs. It is evident that many hands united in the plans of the building, but history gives the credit for the main design to a Persian. An Italian architect lent aid in the ornamentation and three inlaid flowers are shown to-day as specimens of his work. The building itself is only a shadow of its former magnificence – for the many alien conquerors of India have despoiled in it in succession, taking away the solid silver gates, the diamonds, rubies, sapphires and other precious stones from the flower decorations, and even the gold and silver from the mosaic work. All the precious stones looted by vandal hands have been restored by imitations, which closely resemble the priceless originals. Restorations have also been made where the marble has been defaced or broken.
The Taj stands in the midst of a great garden, laid out with so much skill that from any part of its many beautiful walks fine views may be had of the dome and the minarets. This garden is planted to many tropical trees and flowering shrubs whose foliage brings out in high relief the beauty of the flawless marble tomb. The main gateway of the garden, built of red sandstone, would be regarded as a splendid work of art were it not for the superior beauty of the tomb itself. The gate is inlaid in white marble with inscriptions from the Koran, and it is surmounted by twenty little marble cupolas.
Once inside the gate the beauty and the majesty of the Taj strike one like a physical blow. Simple as is the design, so perfectly has it been wrought out that the building gives the impression of the last word in delicate and unique ornamentation. The white marble base on which the building rests is three hundred and thirteen feet square and rises eighteen feet from the ground. The tomb itself is one hundred and eighty-six feet square, with a dome that rises two hundred and twenty feet above the base. At each corner of the base is a graceful minaret of white marble one hundred and thirty-seven feet high. Although no color is used on the exterior, the decoration is so rich as to prevent all monotony.
In every detail the Taj satisfies the eye, with the single exception of the work on the minarets. The squares of marble that cover these minarets are laid in dark-colored mortar which brings out strongly each stone. It would have lent more softness to these minarets had the individual stones not been revealed, an effect that could have been secured by using white mortar. When the shades of evening fall these minarets are far more beautiful than by day, as they are softened by the wiping out of the lines about the stones. Under the strong light of the noonday sun the marble that covers the dome shows various shades ranging from light gray to pearly white, but by the soft evening light all these colors are merged and the dome looks like a huge soap bubble resting light as foam on the body of the tomb.
A front photograph of the Taj gives a good idea of its effect. Standing at the portal of the main entrance one gets the superb effect of the marble pathway that borders the two canals in which the building is mirrored. Midway across this pathway is a broad, raised marble platform, with a central fountain, from which the best view of the building may be secured. The path on each side from this platform to the main stairway is bordered by a row of cypress and back of these are great mango trees at least twenty feet high. These should be removed and smaller trees substituted, as they interfere seriously with a perfect view of the tomb.
From this platform the eye rests on the Taj with a sense of perfect satisfaction that is given by no other building I have ever seen. The very simplicity of the design aids in this effect. It seems well nigh impossible that a mere tomb of white marble should convey so vivid an impression of completeness and majesty, yet at the same time that every detail should suggest lightness and delicacy. The little cupolas below the dome as well as the pinnacles of the minarets add to this effect of airy grace.
When one ascends the steps to the main door he begins to perceive the secret of this effect on the senses. Everything is planned for harmony and proportion. The pointed arch, of which all Moslem architects were enamored, is shown in the main doorway and in the principal windows of the front. This doorway rises almost to the full height of the tomb and on each side are recessed windows, with beautifully pointed tops.
All the angles and spandrels of the building are inlaid with precious stones as well as with texts from the Koran. In the center of the building is an octagonal chamber, twenty-four feet on each side, with various rooms around it devoted to the imperial tombs. A dome, fifty-eight feet in diameter, rises to a height of eighty feet, beneath which, inclosed by a trellis-work screen of white marble, are the tombs of the Favorite of the Palace and of the great Emperor. The Emperor, with a touch of the Oriental despot, has made his tomb a little larger than that of the woman whom he honored in this unique fashion. The delicate tracery in marble, so characteristic of Mogul work of the sixteenth century, is seen here at its best, as well as the inlays of the lotus and other flowers in sapphire, turquoise and other stones. The effect is highly decorative and at the same time chaste and subdued. A feature which impresses every visitor is the remarkable trellis work in marble. A solid slab of marble, about six feet by four and about two inches in thickness, is used as a panel. This is cut out into many designs that remind one of fine old lace. These panels abound in every important room of the Taj.
The Taj has suffered little serious damage from the conquerors who successively despoiled it of its wealth of precious stones. The places of these jewels have been supplied with imitations which are almost as effective as the originals. In a few instances the marble has been chipped or broken, but, through the generosity of Lord Curzon, these blemishes have been removed, and the whole structure exists to-day almost as it did three hundred years ago when Akbar's grandson completed it and found it good.
The Taj should be seen by day and again at nightfall. In the full glare of the brilliant Indian sun the dome and the minarets stand out with extraordinary clearness, yet the lightness and buoyancy of the dome is not injured by the fierce light. Seen at sundown the Taj is at its best. All the lines are softened; the minarets and the perfect dome give an appearance of lightness and grace not of this world; they suggest the cloud-capped towers and gorgeous palaces of the poet's vision. As the afterglow fades, the Taj takes on an air of mystery and aloofness; the perfect lines melt into one another and the whole structure is blurred as though it were seen in a dream. Then one bids adieu to the world's perfect building, thankful that he has been given the opportunity to enjoy the greatest marvel of architecture, which leaves on the mind the same impression left by splendid music or the notes of a great singer. Words are poor to describe things like the Taj, which become our cherished possessions and may be recalled to cheer hours of despondency or grief.
Delhi and Its Ancient Mohammedan Ruins
Delhi, the ancient Mogul capital of India, is an interesting city, not only because of its present-day life but because it contains so many memorials of the Mohammedan conquest of the country. The ancient Moslem emperors were men who did things. Above all else they were builders, who constructed tombs, palaces and mosques that have survived for nearly four hundred years. They builded for all time, rearing massive walls of masonry that the most powerful British guns during the mutiny were unable to batter down. They built their own tombs in such enduring fashion that we may look upon them to-day as they were when these despots completed them. Akbar, Shah Jehan, Humayan and Aurungzeb each erected scores of buildings that have survived the ravages of time and the more destructive work of greedy mercenaries in time of war. In and around Delhi are scores of these tombs in various stages of decay. Those which have been cared for are splendid specimens of the best architecture of the sixteenth century.
Indian brick is the cheapest building material in the world. The Indian brick of to-day looks very much like the cheapest brick used in American cities to fill in the inside of walls; but the brick made in the time of Shah Jehan and Humayan and used by them was a flat tile brick, hard as stone, set in mortar that has resisted the elements for over three hundred years. When the roofs of these Moslem tombs and palaces fell in, then the work of disintegration followed rapidly. The plaster scaled off the front and sides, and the rows on rows of brick were exposed; but it is astonishing that these massive walls have not crumbled to dust in all these years. In most cases the imposing arched doorways of red sandstone have survived. These doorways, beautifully arched, may be seen on both sides of the road leading out of Delhi to the old city, eleven miles distant, which was the capital of the Mogul emperors until Aurungzeb moved it to Delhi. In a radius of fifteen miles from Delhi tombs and palaces that cost hundreds of millions of rupees were built by these Moslem despots and their viceroys. Most of them are now in ruins, but from the top of the Kutab Minar one may count a score of tombs with their domes and cupolas still intact. Into these tombs was poured much of the treasure wrung from the poverty-stricken Hindoo tillers of the soil.
Few sights in this world are more impressive than this birdseye view of the remains of the Mogul emperors who ruled northern India for over three centuries. In one of the poorest and the most densely populated countries of the world these despots reared marvels of architecture which have amazed modern experts. They accomplished these wonders in stone mainly because, with power of life and death, they were able to impress thousands of coolies and force them to rear the walls of their palaces and tombs. Building materials were very cheap, so that most of the treasure expended by these rulers went into the elaborate ornamentation of walls and ceilings with precious stones and carved ivory and marble. No description that I have ever read gives any adequate idea of the number and the massiveness of these remains of bygone imperial splendor, and this magnificence is made more impressive by contrast with the squalid poverty of the common people – the tillers of the soil, the drawers of water, who live in wretched huts, with earthen floors, no windows and no comforts. These dwellings are crowded together in small villages; the family cow or goat occupies a part of the dwelling, a small fire gives warmth only to one standing directly over it, and the smoke pours out the open door or filters through holes in the thatched roof.
As the native lived three hundred years ago so does he live to-day. He uses kerosene instead of the old nut or fish oil, but that is almost the only change. In the cultivation of the soil and in all kinds of manufacture the same methods are in use now as when Akbar wrested North India from its Hindoo rulers. The same crude bullock carts carry produce to Delhi, with wheels that have felloes a foot thick and only four spokes. Many of these wheels have no tires. In some cases camels supply the place of bullocks as beasts of burden, especially in the dry country north of Delhi. The coolie draws water from the wells for irrigation just as his ancestors did three centuries ago. He uses bullocks on an arastra that turns over a big wheel with a chain of buckets. On small farms this work is done by men. All the processes of irrigation are ancient and cumbersome and would not be tolerated for a day in any land where labor is valuable.
Delhi is very rich in memorials of the Mogul conquerors. Near the Lahore gate is the palace, one of the noblest remains of the Mohammedan period. A vaulted arcade leads to the outer court, at one end of which is a splendid band gallery, with a dado of red sandstone, finely carved. On the farther side is the Dwan-i-'Am or Hall of Public Audience, with noble arches and columns, at the back of which, in a raised recess, the emperor sat on his peacock throne, formed of two peacocks, with bodies and wings of solid gold inlaid with rubies, diamonds and emeralds. Over it was a canopy of gold supported by twelve pillars, all richly ornamented. This magnificent work was taken away by Nadir Pasha. The palace contains many other beautiful rooms, among which may be mentioned the royal apartments, with a marble channel in the floor, through which rosewater flowed to the queen's dressing-room and bath.
The most notable mosque in Delhi is the Jama Mashid, built of red sandstone and white marble. It has a noble entrance and a great quadrangle, three hundred and twenty-five feet square, with a fountain in the center. In a pavilion in one corner are relics of Mohammed, shown with great apparent reverence to the skeptical tourist. Near by is the Kalar Masjid or Black Mosque, built in the style of the early Arabian architecture.
Eleven miles from Delhi are many tombs of the Mogul emperors, including the Kutab Minar or great column of red sandstone, with a fine mosque near at hand. Kutab was a viceroy when he began this splendid column, two hundred and thirty-eight feet high, with a base diameter of forty-seven feet three inches. The first three stories are of red sandstone and the two upper stories are faced with white marble. The summit, which is reached by three hundred and seventy-nine steps, gives a superb view of the surrounding country, with its many fine Moslem tombs.
On the way to the Kutab Minar a number of fine Mohammedan tombs are passed, chief of which is the tomb of Emperor Humayan, one of the greatest of the Moslem builders. Of all the buildings that I saw in India this approaches most closely in beauty the incomparable Taj Mahal. Of red sandstone, with white marble in relief, its windows are recessed and the lower doors filled in with stone and marble lattice work of great beauty. The tomb is an octagon and in the central chamber is the great emperor's cenotaph of plain white marble. Not far away are the shrines and tombs of many Mohammedan emperors and saints.
Delhi saw some of the fiercest fighting during the mutiny. The rebellious natives drove the Europeans out of the city, slaughtering those who were unable to escape. Thousands of mutineers also flocked to Delhi from Lucknow, Cawnpore and other places. General Bernard, in command of the English troops that came from Simla, attacked the mutineers on June sixth and gained an important victory, as it gave the British possession of "The Ridge," a lofty outcropping of ancient rock, which was admirably designed for defense and for operations against the city. Troops were posted all along the Ridge and in Hindoo Rao's house, a massive building belonging to a loyal native. This building was the center of many fierce engagements, but it was not until September that enough troops were collected to make it safe to assault Delhi. Brigadier-General John Nicholson had arrived from the Punjab and urged immediate attack on the city. Nicholson was the greatest man the mutiny produced. Tall, magnetic, dominating, he enforced his will upon every one. Even Lord Roberts, who was then a young subaltern and not easily impressed by rank or achievement, records that he never spoke to Nicholson without feeling the man's enormous will power and energy. Finally, on September thirteenth, the British guns having made breaches in the city walls, two forces (one under Nicholson, the other under Colonel Herbert) stormed the place. The Kabul gate was soon taken, but the defense of the Lahore gate proved more stubborn. The soldiers wavered under the deadly fire, when Nicholson rushed forward to lead them. His great height made him a target and he fell, shot through the body. A whole week of severe fighting followed before every portion of Delhi was captured. Nicholson died three days after the British secured complete control of the city. His death was mourned as greatly as the death of Sir Henry Lawrence at Lucknow.
