Ghazipore, -the famous Rose Gardens.

127

made a lullaby to the ears, that brought on a refreshing sleep to digest a hearty dinner. Early next morning, the Agra weighed its anchor, and went paddling on to Ghazipore. Reached this town at three in the afternoon, and there was no more sailing that day on account of a telegram from Calcutta.

Many a time did we wish to see the town, that, says Heber, 'is celebrated throughout India for the wholesomeness of its air, and the beauty and extent of its rose gardens.' If, at last, an opportunity happened to gratify our wishes, it was only for the short space of three hours, during which no man can be sufficiently influenced to form his opinion of the salubrity or insalubrity of a place. It is not for us either to confirm or contradict the wholesomeness of the air of Ghazipore, in our stroll through that town for a couple of hours we did not taste any extra-bland airs followed by an extrakeenness of appetite, nor did we return from it catching an ague or jungle-fever. As for the famous rose gardens, the greatest of all curiosities at Ghazipore, where one may fancy himself in the reality of Sadi's Gulistan midst flowers and flowering shrubs, and where, as we have been told by one from personal experience, the opening of the countless buds is distinctly audible in the stillness of an evening; they were at a distance which made us very much regret missing them. In truth, we would have come away doubting the very existence of these rose-fields that occupy hundreds of acres, had not a number of men come to sell their rose-water, attar, and other perfumed oils at the coaling ghaut of the steamer.

us.

The handsome ruined palace of Nabob Cossim Ali Khan, in the banqueting-hall of which was a 'deep trench, which used to be filled with rose-water when the Nabob and his friends were feasting there,' was also missed by Our long-cherished wishes were gratified so far as to find Ghazipore a large town finely situated upon an elevated bank, and surrounded by luxuriant groves. It has a long wide street passing through neat-built bazars. The wares of the shopkeepers were exposed in the stalls, and groups of men nearly blocked up the way —the evening being the busiest time of the day in an Indian city. The European quarter is separated from the native town by gardens and fine turf-lands, scattered with trees and bungalows. The cantonments are in the far western extremity.

Maha-Kosala, the ancient Hindoo name of the district in which Ghazipore is situated, is fertile in corn, pasture, and fruit trees, and its number of inhabitants to the square mile is 500 in the present day. Though an old town, mentioned in the Ayeen Akbarry, Ghazipore possesses no interest from old associations, and has no remains of antiquity. In name, in foundation, and in population, it is a Mahomedan town. Ghazipore is the first large and important town that is met with on the left bank of the Ganges in proceeding up from Rajmahl, and it is the lowest station of the NorthWestern Presidency.

In Ghazipore sleeps Lord Cornwallis. He had been appointed Governor-General a second time, and was proceeding up the country, when he fell sick on the road, and died at Ghazipore. It was his especial command,

Ghazipore,-Lord Cornwallis's Monument.

129

that where the tree fell, there it should lie,'—and 'the Marquis, who had seen so many vicissitudes in the West and East, and who had narrowly escaped death at Yorktown in America, and a grave on the banks of the Chesapeake, was buried at Ghazipore, on the banks of the Ganges.' The monument over his remains, says Heber, 'is a costly building of fine freestone, of large proportions, solid masonry, and raised above the ground on a lofty and striking basement. But its pillars, instead of beautiful Corinthian well-fluted, are of the meanest Doric. They are quite too slender for their height, and for the heavy entablature and cornice which rest on them. The dome, instead of springing from nearly the same level with the roof of the surrounding portico, is raised ten feet higher on a most ugly and unmeaning attic story. The building is utterly unmeaning; it is neither a temple nor a tomb, neither has altar, statue, nor inscription. It is, in fact, a "folly" of the same sort, but far more ambitious and costly than that which is built at Barrackpore, and it is vexatious to think that a very handsome church might have been built, and a handsome marble monument to Lord Cornwallis placed in its interior, for a little more money than has been employed on a thing, which, if any foreigner saw, would afford subject for mockery to all who read his travels, at the expense of Anglo-Indian ideas of architecture.' The young trees, spoken of by Heber, have grown high in our day, and the lofty tomb, in which rests the Governor who introduced the Permanent Settlement, does not look quite so ill from the river.

Next day we reached Benares-the flag hoisted on the top of the minaret of Aurungzebe's mosque announced the arrival of the steamer to the population of that city, and the bridge of boats allowed us a passage to proceed on our way to Chunar.

Perched on the crest of a limestone spur that rises to the height of 150 feet abruptly from the edge of the stream, the fortress of Chunar loomed in the distance, and gradually enlarged on the view, till, coming up and anchoring before the town, it unfolded itself in all its massy proportions to our sight. Well may the Hindoos imagine the dizzy height of the rocky eminence to be a seat of the Almighty. In the whole Gangetic valley, there is not another spot to be compared with Chunar; and its lofty rock, rising in a slip of open woodland washed by the Ganges, could not have failed to attract the notice of the sagacious Hindoo.

Landed to see the fort. It is supposed to have been originally built and resided in by some of the Pal Rajahs of Bengal, and afterwards possessed by the Chundal kings of ancient Mahoba or modern Bundlecund, from whom it has derived the name of Chundalghur. Up an easy slope commencing almost from the ghaut we ascended to the fort, which covers the crest and sides of the rock, and rises with 'several successive enclosures of walls and towers, the lowest of which have their base washed by the Ganges. The site and outline are very noble; the rock on which it stands is perfectly insulated, and, either naturally or by art, bordered on every side by a very awful precipice, flanked, wherever

it has been possible to obtain a salient angle, with towers, bartizans, and bastions of various forms and sizes.' It is told in Hindoo tradition that the fort of Chunar was built in one night by a giant, and is impregnable. There is as much truth in the former as in the latter, which has been tested and shaken many a time by Baber, Homayoon, Shere Shah, and the English. In its present state, the fort retains little or none of its ancient Hindoo or Mussulman features. The ramparts are mounted with a good many cannon. To check the

advance of an assaulting army, the fort is stored with great numbers of stone cylinders, much like garden rollers, to set them rolling down the steep face of the hill upon the enemy.

The top of the rock forms a considerable and pretty space, covered with fine grass, and scattered with noble spreading trees. The paths beautiful, and bungalows neat. Warren Hastings fled here from Benares during the Cheyte Sing insurrection, and we were shown the house in which he lived. The military importance of Chunar has passed away, and it is occupied now chiefly by invalids and 'old weather-beaten' soldiers. Bishop Heber saw here an 'European soldier who fought with Clive, and had no infirmity but deafness and dim sight.' The view from the ramparts is excellent, and the prospect round Chunar bears that English character which reminds an invalid resident of sweet, sweet home.' There is a narrow and crooked flight of steps descending from the top of the rock, and ending in a little postern-gate, that lets out into the river. It was