CHAPTER XI.

THE CAPITAL OF THE GREAT MOGUL

Delhi-The Mogul Empire at Present-Ruins of former Delhis-The Observatery-- A Wilderness of Ruin-Tomb of Sufdur Jung-The Khuttub Minar-Its Beauty-View from the Summit-Uncertainty of its Origin-The Palace of Aladdin-Ruins of a Hindoo Temple-Tomb of the Emperor Humayoon-Of Nizam-ud-deen--Native Sam Patches-Old Delhi-Aspect of the Modern City-The Chandree Choke-Bayaderes-Delhi Artisans and Artists-The Jumma Musjeed-A Hindoo Minstrel and his Song The Palace of Akbar II.-Neglect and Desolation-The Diwan-An Elysium on Earth-The Throne Hall-The Crystal Throne-The Court of Akbar II. -A Farce of Empire-The Gardens-Voices of the Sultanas-Palace Pastimes.

After the

DELHI is the Imperial City of India, having been chosen by the Mogul Conquerors as their capital, which it thenceforth remained, except during the reign of Akbar. death of Aurungzebe, the power of the Emperors gradually declined; the Mahrattas and Rajpoots laid waste and seized upon their territories, and finally the English, who found that the shortest way of effecting their object as peace-makers was to become conquerors, took what fragments remained of the Empire. The sovereignty, however, is still acknowledged and treated with the same outward ceremonials of respect and submission, as when the Company owned nothing but a factory in Bengal, and the Mogul was lord of all India. The dominions of Akbar II., the present Emperor, the lineal de scendant of the House of Tamerlane and his illustrious suc

cessors, are embraced within the walls of his palace, and com prise rather less than a square half mile. The Government allows fourteen lacs of rupees ($700,000) annually for the maintenance of himself, his family, and the princes attached to his Court-a large and hungry retinue, many of whom cannot venture outside of the walls without running the risk of being seized for his debts. They are all in debt, from the Emperor to his lowest menials, and the Government allowance is always conveyed to the Palace under a strong guard, to prevent its being forcibly carried off by the creditors. This pitiful farce of Royalty is all that remains of the Mogul Empire once the most powerful and enlightened sovereignty in Asia.

The modern City of Delhi is the latest of the name, and having been founded by Shah Jehan, is still called by the natives Shabjehanabad. There were several Delhis, one of the oldest of which is the city built by Toglukh, and called Toglukhabad, the ruins of which lie about fifteen miles to the south of the present city. Another city, now called Old Delhi, built during one of the succeeding reigns, is about two miles distant. It is still surrounded by lofty walls, with circular stone bastions, and has several thousand inhabitants. But all of the country south of the Jumna, for an extent of more than ten miles in every direction, is strewed with the ruins of palaces, mosques, and tombs. Whenever the city was taken and desolated in the early wars, instead of rebuilding it, the inhabitants founded a new one in the vicinity; and afterwards, whenever the caprice of an Emperor prompted him to erect a new palace, the nobles, and after them the common people, gradually shifted their residences, until the

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location of the city was quite changed; and thus, for centuries, Delhi continued to be a migratory capital. For the last two centuries it has been stationary, and will now probably remain so. But the ruins of the former Delhis cover a much greater space than that occupied by the ruins of Thebes, and had they all belonged to one city, it would have been the greatest in the world.

On the day after my arrival, Mr. Place drove me in his carriage to the Khuttub Minar, the pride and boast of Delhi, as the Taj is of Agra. It is eleven miles distant, in a southwesterly direction. This, again, was a day to be remembered. We left at an early hour, and without entering the city, drove along its walls, past the Cashmere and Lahore Gates. It was a balmy morning, with a pure, crystalline atmosphere, such as I had not seen for weeks. The air seemed to be more dry and bracing than at Agra, for though the temperature was lower, I felt the cold much less keenly. At a short distance from the city, we came upon the ruins of a magnificent observatory. The most prominent object was a colossal gnomon, built of stone, and rising to the height of near forty feet. Around this was a circular plane, precisely parallel to that of the ecliptic, and nearly a hundred feet in diameter. There were also two circular buildings, with a double row of narrow slits, or embrasures, around them, and the remains of stone tables in the inside, the circumferences of which were divided into degrees. These buildings were no doubt intended for observing the rising and setting of stars, measuring their distances from each other, and other similar processes. The observatory could only have been used for astronomical observations of a very simple character.

Beyond this all was ruin. The country was uneven and covered in all directions, as far as the eye could reach, with masses of stone and brick, the remains of walls and arches, and the tombs of princes, saints and scholars who flourished during the Mogul dynasty. The tombs were large square buildings, surmounted with domes. Some were merely of brick and mortar, but others of sandstone and white marble, and adorned with very elegant gateways. Grass and bushes were growing out of the rifts of the domes, and the seeds of the peepul tree, taking root in the mortar, had in many places split asunder the strongest masses of masonry. During many miles of our jour ney, there was scarcely a change in the melancholy panorama. Ruin succeeded ruin, and between and beyond them there were but perspectives of ruin in the distance. The habitations of men were few and scattered, and but little of the soil showed any appearance of cultivation. The wild vulture hovered sullenly over the waste, and the fox and jackal sneaked about the crumbling walls. That beautiful fragment of Persian poetry, recited by Mahmoud the Conqueror, as he entered Constantinople, came into my mind: "The spider hath woven his web in the imperial palaces; and the owl hath sung her watch-song on the towers of Afrasiab."

About six miles from Delhi we came upon the splendid tomb of Sufdur Jung, a prince who was connected with the royal house of Oude. It resembles the Taj in design, but is smaller, and built of a mixture of sandstone and marble, the effect of which is very beautiful and pleasing. The present King of Oude has appointed a sum for its repair and preservation, but there are no signs, in the general air of neglect. which pervades the place, of any money having been thus ap

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plied I was quite charmed with the beauty of the architectural details, in this edifice; the arched windows, the vaulted ceilings of the chambers, and the designs of the marble balconies, were among the finest things of the kind which I saw in India.

From the top of the tomb we first saw the Khuttub Minar, and after five more miles of ruin, drew up in the court-yard of a caravanserai near its base. The unusual form of the Khuttub detracts from its height, when seen from a distance, but greatly increases it on a nearer view, by exaggerating the perspective. Hence, unlike some towers which seem to shrink as you approach them, the Khuttub, which at a few miles' distance resembles an ordinary factory-chimney, swells to a sublime altitude when you are in its vicinity. It is a round pillar, of 240 feet in height, the diameter at the base being 35 feet, but gradually diminishing to less than 10 feet at the top. It is divided into five stories, the relative height of which decreases in the same ratio as the diameter of the shaft. Each story has a heavy cornice of the richest sculpture, surmounted by a low stone balustrade. The three lower stories are entirely of red sandstone, fluted, or rather reeded with alternate convex and angular divisions, and belted at short intervals by bands of Arabic inscriptions, sculptured in relief, and of colossal size. The two highest stories are mostly of white marble, without inscriptions, and deviate slightly from the diminishing slope of the pillar, whence it is generally supposed that they were added at a later period. Some English officers, thinking to improve the work, crowned it with a grotesque cupola, which was a ridiculous excrescence on the shaft, until Lord Hardinge ordered it to be taken down.