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Ghazipore,—Lord Cornwallis's Monument.
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 The Fort of Chunar.
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
said by the guide to be the work of an ancient Hindoo Rajah. The steamer lying in the river appeared from the top to be diminished into a small low vessel, almost on a level with the surface of the waters, and scarcely raising up its head.
In the fortress of Chunar is a state-prison in which Trimbukjee Danglia pined away his last days, hopeless of ever being able to give a second slip to his enemies. He had been first kept in custody at the fortress of Tannah, near Bombay. But a Mahratta groom, who seems to have purposely taken service under the commanding officer, became the instrument to facilitate the means for his escape. The stable where the groom used to attend his horse was immediately under the window of Trimbukjee's prison. He paid more than usual attention to his steed, and indulged, while currying and cleaning the animal, in the following Mahratta song :
The dark innuendos conveyed in the ballad fell unheeded upon the ears of the uninterested, and were understood only by Trimbukjee, who was at last found to have disappeared from his dungeon, with both the groom and horse from the stable. Nearly in the same manner had Sevajee made his escape from the hands of Aurungzebe by concealing himself in a large basket of sweet-meats ; Chunar,—Trimbukjee confined there.
and it is singular to remark that the history of the Mahratta power is comprised between two escapes—that of Sevajee, which led to its foundation, and that of Trimbukjee, which led to its dissolution. The slippery Trimbukjee was caught a second time, and lodged in the fortress of Chunar. He is confined with great strictness,' says Heber, having an European as well as a Sepoy guard, and never being trusted out of the sight of the sentries. Even his bed-chamber has three grated · windows open into the verandah which serves as guard-room. In other respects he is well treated, has two large and very airy apartments, a small building fitted up as a pagoda, and a little garden shaded with a peepul-tree, which he has planted very prettily with balsams and other flowers. Four of his own servants are allowed to attend him, but they are always searched before they quit or return to the fort, and must always be there at night. He is a little, lively, irritable-looking man, dressed, when I saw him, in a dirty cotton mantle, with a broad red border, thrown carelessly over his head and shoulders. I was introduced to him by Colonel Alexander, and he received me courteously, observing that he himself was a Brahmin, and in token of his brotherly regard, plucking some of his prettiest flowers for me. He then showed me his pagoda and garden, and after a few common-place expressions of the pleasure I felt in seeing so celebrated a warrior, which he answered by saying, with a laugh, he should have been glad to make my acquaintance elsewhere, I made my bow and took leave. He has been now, I believe, five years in