Due West: or, Round the World in Ten Months

There is a museum of special local interest where are gathered and well classified specimens of the natural products, industries, native gems, minerals, animals, and birds throughout the Punjab, well worth a few hours of examination and study. Opposite the museum building there was observed, in the centre of an open plot of ground, a large, long cannon mounted, and of Indian manufacture, over a century in age. It was used by Ahmed Shah in the battle of Paniput and is famous among the populace by the name of "Zamazamah." There are also mosques, mausoleums, and forts to be visited, all attractive, with some curious ruins of old palaces and Hindoo temples, to all of which we paid due attention, but a detailed account of which would hardly interest the general reader. In the better part of the town the streets are broad and lined by two-story houses – a style not very common in India. From the ornamental balconies, and projecting windows framed in lattice-work, the women of the harems looked out upon us, with their faces partially covered, but yet taking care to exhibit a profusion of jewelry, having three or four large loops of gold in each ear, as well as nose-rings, outdoing in glitter their sisters of Penang.

The few women to be met with in the streets had their bare feet thrust into the tiniest of pink kid slippers, far too small for them, their ankles covered with broad gold rings, five or six deep, coming up to the calf. Their bare arms showed the wrists covered with bracelets of gold and silver alternately, nearly to the elbow; and above the elbow was a broad gold band. Some of them were so covered with rings, bracelets, bangles, and necklaces as to amount to itinerant jewelry bazars. The etiquette of these women, some of whom were scarcely out of their teens, appeared to be, in the first place, to cover the face above the chin, except the eyes, and then to expose as much of their bodies as could effectively bear jewelry, including necklaces of either imitation or real stones hanging down over the bosom. Add to the whole a reckless disregard for natural delicacy, and you have a Lahore belle of to-day as she appears on the street. We saw nowhere else in India such freedom and publicity permitted to inmates of the harem. Girls are frequently married here at twelve years, and the number of wives a man may possess, in any part of India, is only limited by his purse.

Elephants of greater size than the famous Jumbo, and also camels, enter into common, every-day use here as do donkeys and horses in European cities; but such horses as one sees at Lahore are generally very fine creatures, of the true Arab breed, with faces almost human in intelligence. These animals are at the same time high-spirited and gentle, with forms that are the very ideal of equine grace and beauty. Round bodies, arching necks, small heads and limbs, large eyes and nostrils, with full mane and tail. Lahore is a place of more than usual interest to the traveler, as exhibiting much of the peculiar and inner life of India. We were particularly attracted by public and, private flower-gardens, fruit orchards, and ornamental trees, disposed in such an excellent manner as to give the general effect of a finely and naturally-wooded country; and yet we were told that before the English took possession and built up the European quarter, Lahore was only a city surrounded by sterile fields, and absolutely without a tree, ornamental or otherwise, within its extended borders. The orchards and gardens referred to are those of European residents. Among the exotics we observed the Australian gum-tree and the Chinese tallow-tree, large and thrifty in both instances. Lahore was also the only place in India where we saw mulberry-tree orchards. Like Delhi, the city presents many evidences of its former splendor, with ruins still architecturally grand and beautiful, though rapidly mouldering to dust.

We heard of excellent educational results growing out of missionary efforts at Lahore, and it is really in this direction that the most good will be accomplished. As regards religious converts, they are few and far between, and of very little account when apparently made; but in cultivating the intelligence of the people, a great and good work is being performed, one which must eventually shake the fabric of heathen mythology to its very centre. An idolatrous people must come from the ranks of ignorance, – from a priest-ridden race. When the Hindoo is capable of thinking and reasoning for himself, he no longer believes in the idol-gods of his fathers. The preaching of this or that special faith is of little avail, and to us seems to be the least of all missionary work. The true object is comprised in the single effort of enlightenment. Education is the great Christianizer for India. People of culture will not bow down before graven images, nor worship bulls and monkeys.

Umritsar, the sacred city of the Sikhs, our next stopping-place, is less than forty miles from Lahore, and is a walled city of nearly two hundred thousand inhabitants, composed mostly of Sikhs, Hindoos, Mohammedans, and Cashmiris. The principal attraction of the city to strangers is the famous Golden Temple, so called because the cupola is covered with a thin layer of the precious metal, having the same effect as that of the dome of the Invalides at Paris, or that of the Boston State House. Five hundred priests are attached to this temple, and are constantly performing ceremonies, which, to an uninitiated person, seem like utter nonsense, and want of purpose. By the side of the temple is a very large tank covering three acres or more of ground, supplied by neighboring springs; and though it is constantly bathed in by thousands of pilgrims, and has no visible outlet, was still clear and sweet, which fact the natives attribute to some miraculous intervention. This lake is called Amrita Saras, or the Fountain of Immortality, hence the name of the city. There are other mosques and public gardens of interest, and the traveler should not forget to visit one or more of the shawl manufactories, where the famous Indian article is woven by hand in a most primitive loom worked by two persons. Another specialty is the manufacture of perforated ivory goods, which are brought to great perfection and are in quick demand for foreign markets.

As we passed through an open square near the Golden Temple a dry goods auction was in progress, for the disposal of under-clothing, which seemed like sending warming-pans to the West Indies, since no native wears such articles. A Jew was the auctioneer, and was evidently selling at very low prices to get rid of the goods, for the poor people purchased and handed them about as curiosities. The scene occurred on the high stone steps leading up to a temple, and among the crowd a little girl of four or five years was thrown down the steps, cutting a severe gash on her forehead. With the usual dullness of ignorance, a crowd gathered about the now insensible child, frightened at the sight of blood, while the mother stood inert, where the child lay upon the ground, her own agonized features and clasped hands forming a picture of despair. No experienced traveler will be without sticking-plaster, and for us to pick up the child, wash out the wound, draw the lips carefully together and secure them, binding up the bruised head in a handkerchief, was the work of only a few moments. We were simply compensated by the reviving smile of the little sufferer; but it was impossible to prevent the grateful mother from lying prone upon the ground and kissing our feet.

From Umritsar to Agra is four hundred and fifty miles. One night and day of uninterrupted travel brought us to its interesting borders, where we found a large and well-conducted hotel – one of the best we had chanced upon in the country. This journey was through the plains of middle India, and afforded some attractive and quite varied scenery, including large sugar plantations in full stalk, thrifty mango groves, tall palm-trees, orange-trees with their golden fruit, and far-reaching, graceful fields of waving grain, mingled with thrifty patches of the castor bean. These objects were interspersed with groups of cattle and goats tended by herdsmen, who often stood leaning on long poles in picturesque attitudes, wrapped about in flowing, sheet-like robes of white cotton, relieved by a scarlet belt and yellow turban. These men and their surroundings formed just such figures as a painter would delight to throw into a picture, with the animals feeding in the background. Now and again a group of minarets, with a central dome, would come into view on the horizon, breaking the deep blue of the sky with their dark shadows; or a ruined temple was seen close at hand, charred and crumbled by the wear of the elements for centuries.

India abounds in these forsaken and half-decayed shrines, once, no doubt, centres of busy life and religious ceremonials. Tall cranes, pelicans, ibises, and other large water-birds rose occasionally from the ponds, and fanned themselves slowly away. On portions of the road the telegraph wires, running parallel with the track, were covered with tiny birds of indigo-blue, decked with long slim tail-feathers. As we passed, they would rise in clouds, circle about for a moment, and again settle upon the wires where they had been roosting. Little clusters of rice-birds, scarcely larger than butterflies, floated like colored vapor over the fields, glistening in the warm sunlight. Wild peacocks were seen feeding near the rails, but not in populous districts. In the early gray of the morning, more than once on the lonely plains, a tall, gaunt wolf was observed coolly watching the passing train, or loping swiftly away. Camels were seen in long strings, with their loads protruding on either side, slowly moving over the country roads; while an occasional elephant, with half a dozen people upon its capacious back, served to vary the ever-changing panorama.

Our course was nearly due south, so that we felt an increased rise in the temperature from hour to hour. As before remarked, it was a surprise to see how many of the poor people availed themselves of the railroad. The third class cars were thronged with them going to Benares, or some other holy place, on religious pilgrimages; which, indeed, appears to be the one absorbing idea of their lives. It was not unusual to see two hundred of these pilgrims, composed of both sexes and of all ages, enter the cars from some small station. Though these people wear the scantiest of clothing, yet they affect strong contrasts in colors, which will give picturesqueness even to rags. The third class cars of an Indian railroad are little better than our cattle cars in America; and these natives were hustled into them and locked up, much after the style of loading live stock in Illinois.

Agra, which, like Delhi, stands not on the Ganges, but on its great tributary, the Jumna, is an important city, fully as populous as Lahore; and though its history is rather vague, still there are tangible evidences carrying it back more than a thousand years, while some authorities claim for it a much greater antiquity. Its modern history is interwoven with the great mutiny, and our local guide wearied us by expatiating volubly upon the subject. To all who come hither, the first great object of interest will be the Taj Mahal, or tomb of the wife of Emperor Shah-Jehan, the most interesting building in India, and perhaps the most beautiful in the world. A tomb in this country means a magnificent structure of marble, with domes and minarets, the walls inlaid with precious stones, and the whole surrounded by gardens, fountains, and artificial lakes, covering from ten to twenty acres. Cheap as labor is in India, the Taj must have cost some fifteen millions of dollars, and was seventeen years in building. The Mogul Emperor resolved to erect the most superb monument ever reared to commemorate a woman's name, and he certainly succeeded, for in his effort Mohammedan architecture reached its acme. The mausoleum is situated in a spacious garden, the equal of which can hardly be found elsewhere, beautiful to the eye, and delightful to the senses with fragrant flowers, exotic and indigenous, of every hue, and in endless variety, embracing acres of roses, "each cup a pulpit, every leaf a book." These are softly shaded by trees scarcely less beautiful than themselves. The whole scene is reflected in lakes of clearest water, from which scores of fountains throw up pearly jets in the dazzling sunshine the livelong day and through the still watches of the night. This grand structure, with the ripeness of centuries upon it, is no ruin; there is no neglect in or about the Taj and its gardens. All is fresh, fragrant, and perfect as at the hour when it was completed.

The edifice, which is of white marble, a material retaining its snow-like purity for centuries in this climate, is embellished with domes, colonnades, towers, and all the pomp, finish, and lavishness of Eastern architecture. It stands upon a stone platform of the same material, from three to four hundred feet square, to reach the surface of which one ascends about twenty steps. On the back of this platform runs a marble balustrade overlooking the Jumna. On each corner of the terrace is a marble minaret about a hundred and forty feet in height, of fine proportions, like four sentinels placed there to guard the mausoleum, which forms the centre of the platform. Two mosques, built of red sandstone, stand between these minarets, one on the east and one on the west side. The height of the Taj from the base to the top of the dome must be very nearly or quite three hundred feet. The principal dome in itself is eighty feet high, and of such exquisite form and harmony is the whole, that it seems almost to float in the atmosphere. Agate, sapphire, jasper, and other precious stones are wrought into flowers, and inlaid upon the polished marble, the work having employed the best artists for years. In the centre of the edifice, beneath the glorious dome, are two sarcophagi covering the resting-place of the emperor and his wife, whose bodies are in the vault below. How appropriate the inscription at the threshold: "To the Memory of an Undying Love." On the surrounding grounds are the fragrant blossoms of nature; within are flower-wreaths of mosaic blooming in jasper, carnelian, and lapis-lazuli, fresh and bright as when they came from the artist's hand centuries ago. As we stood beneath the arched roof of the cupola, beside the pure white tombs of glistening marble, a verse from Longfellow's "Psalm of Life" was repeated in a low tone of voice. Instantly there rolled through the dimly-lighted vault above a soft and solemn repetition, which sounded as though voices were repeating the psalm in the skies, with such music and pathos as to dim our eyes with tears. The delicate echo beneath the dome of the Taj, just above where sleep the royal ashes, is one of its most remarkable and thrilling mysteries.

This superb exposition of architectural perfection was visited first in the glow of sunrise, again in the golden haze of sunset, and once under the fiery blaze of midday. It is only beneath an intensely blue sky that one can realize the full and exquisite effect of pure white marble. Nothing finer or more lovely in architecture exists than this faultless monument, this ideal of Saracenic art, in all its rich harmony, erected by an Indian emperor to the memory of his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, which signifies the "Chosen of the Palace." The Taj leaves an undying impression of beauty on all beholders, and certainly in this instance beauty outvalues utility. Shakespeare might well have written of sermons in stones had he seen the Taj. The marble and red sandstone came from Rajpootana, the diamonds and jaspers from the Punjab, the carnelians and agates from Tibet, the corals from Arabia, the sapphires and other precious stones from Ceylon, and the genius that combined them all came from Heaven. Madame de Staël never saw this gem of India, and yet she said that architecture was frozen music. Emerson would have called it a blossoming in stone.

The Palace of Akbar is within the famous fort of Agra, a couple of miles from the Taj, the other side of the Jumna, a structure of such magnitude as to form almost a city within itself, measuring two miles around its walls. Those walls, over fifty feet in height, are of red sandstone, with towers at intervals, and a deep moat. It is situated on the banks of the river, with which its vaults have an underground communication. We were shown one dark and gloomy cellar far below the level of the fort, known as the execution room, where the criminals, condemned in the Judgment Hall above, received their punishment. The headsman's block was still there, and certain dark stains were pointed out to us by means of the candle carried by the guide, which told their own story. In the centre of this dreary vault was a well whose water was level with the river, into which it opened some twenty feet from the surface, and into which the decapitated bodies of the criminals were cast and left to float away with the ebb and flow of the Jumna's tide. The bed of the river showed that at certain seasons it must be at least half a mile in width, but it was a meagre stream when we crossed it that bright and sunny February day.

The royal apartments within the palace are being restored at present, and many skilled workmen were busy upon the frescoes, inlaid stone work, and delicate marble ornamentations, while we were there. The Grotto of Glass, as the principal bath-room designed for the use of the harem is called, was a curious and luxurious marble room, with inviting pure white marble tanks large enough to swim in, and surrounded by tiny glass mirrors let into the walls at such angles as to reflect a figure myriads of times, quite distracting to look upon. All departments of this remarkable royal residence are exquisitely finished, showing no less of refined, artistic taste, than of lavish expenditure. The courts, chambers, boudoirs, fountains, pavilions, reception halls, throne room, all are of marble and mosaic, with beautiful inlaid work everywhere. Many of the floors represented delicate vines and blooming flowers in precious stones, like the modern Florentine mosaic work one sees in such perfection wrought upon tallies at the shops that line the Arno in Florence. The Jewel Chamber, and the suite of apartments formerly devoted to the use of the harem, were curiously screened by a lattice work of white marble, lace-like in effect, and a curiosity in itself. Delicate carving could hardly be carried to more minute finish in alabaster. The marble inches and pockets, for holding the jewelry of the fair occupants, were so arranged that none but a delicate arm could reach the treasures; a man's hand and wrist would be too large; while the stone pockets, being curved at the bottom, required the long sensitive fingers of the owner's hand to extract what they contained.

These apartments all overlooked, by means of exquisite little marble balconies, the grand valley of the Jumna, through which the river may be traced for miles; while on the opposite shore there lies the glorious Taj, with its snow-white domes and minarets looming above the lovely setting of cypresses, and the luxurious vegetation of its surrounding gardens. Within the fort is also the Pearl Mosque, the rival of the little royal temple of similar character which we had seen at Delhi. The front of this Moli Musjed is supported by marble pillars, and is surmounted by three beautiful marble domes, of such perfection and loveliness of outline as to be the puzzle of modern architects, just as our best sculptors are nonplused before the Venus of Milo, and some other examples of Greek art; they may imitate, but they cannot hope to equal them. "Indeed," said a well-known artist to us in the gallery of the Louvre, in presence of this marvelous creation, "the sculptor himself, were he living, could not repeat his work. It was a ray of inspiration caught from Heaven." So we thought of the Moli Musjed.

The Tomb of Akbar at Secundra was visited, a few miles from Agra. It is situated, like most other Mogul buildings of the same period, in a large inclosure laid out as a beautiful garden, with fountains, lakes, statuary, tamarind-trees, oranges, lemons, among the most fragrant flowers. It was a glorious day on which we drove out to Secundra, the air was musical with the merry notes of the minos, in their dusky red plumage, the little chirping bee-eaters, hoopoes, and blue-jays. Some little girls freely plucked the abundant rose-buds, pinks, lemon verbenas, and geraniums, bringing them to us for pennies, instigated by the gardeners, who looked on approvingly. This magnificent tomb would be a seven days' wonder in itself, were it not so near that greater charm and marvel of loveliness, the Taj. It was from this grand architectural structure that the Koh-i-noor was taken. The spacious grounds form one of the finest parks in India, art having seconded the kindly purpose of nature in a favored spot where vegetation is as various as it is luxuriant and beautiful.

Our hotel at Agra was one of the most comfortable and American-like which can be found in India. The scene on the broad piazza, all day long, was curious and interesting, forming a sort of open bazar, where every establishment in the place had a representative and samples of its goods. All tourists are presumed to have come to purchase, and importunity is a part of the natives' business. Photographs, models of the Taj, precious stones, sandal-wood boxes, mosaics, and swords, the variety is infinite, the patience of the dealers equally inexhaustible. Nothing but absolute force could drive them away, and no one uses that. If you utterly decline to purchase anything, they fold their hands and wait. The most curious part of the business, if you purchase at all, is the elastic character of the prices, since no one pretends to pay that which is first charged, the dealer does not expect it, and the running fire of barter, chaffing, and cheapening is most laughable. The vendor begins by asking at least double what he will finally offer his goods for, and in the end probably gets twice their intrinsic value. If one of the natives were to offer his articles at a fixed and reasonable valuation, he would be mobbed on the spot by his companions. Dickering is the poetry of trade to a Hindoo.

CHAPTER VIII

From Agra to Jeypore. – An Independent Province. – A Unique Indian City. – Wild Animals. – Elephant Traveling. – Trapping Tigers. – A Royal Palace. – The Harem. – Native Rule. – Wild Monkeys and Peacocks. – Long Journey across Country. – Bombay. – The Rival of Calcutta. – The Parsees. – Towers of Silence. – Feeding the Vultures. – A Remarkable Institution. – Island of Elephanta. – Street Jugglers. – Crossing the Sea of Arabia. – The Southern Cross. – Aden. – Passage up the Red Sea. – Landing at Suez. – Traveling in Egypt.

If the reader will consult the map of India it will be seen that few regions in the world present such an array of remarkable cities as have sprung up and flourished in the Ganges-Jumna valley, of which we are now writing. Here we have Agra, Delhi, Cawnpore, Lucknow, Allahabad, Benares, Mirzapur, Patna, Decca, and Murshedabad. What historic associations arise at the bare mention of these Indian cities, each one of which affords a record reaching so far down the corridors of the past as to fascinate the archaeologist by its very mystery.

We left Agra regretfully; one would like more time to examine and become familiar with all its monuments, and yet they seem as deeply impressed upon the memory as though we had known them for years, and had lived long in their midst. The Rajpootana State Railway was taken for Jeypore, situated a hundred and fifty miles from Agra, and justly reputed to be the finest native city in the country: in many respects it is unique. The route thither lay through a very level country of great fertility, showing line crops of cereals, with frequent and vivid fields of yellow mustard in full bloom. Jeypore is the capital of the territory belonging to the Maharajah Mardozing, whose independent possessions are just about the size of the State of Massachusetts, the British not having "annexed" this special territory. The prince is a middle-aged, affable, and intelligent person, very courteous to strangers, but especially so to Americans, concerning whose government he is quite inquisitive. He is a man of more than ordinary culture, has traveled much, is exceedingly progressive in his ideas, and seems to command the respect of the English, and of all who are brought within his circle.