Hindoo or Mahomedan. The governor became sensible of his error, but it was too late.

with the contagion, and at the adieu to this transitory world.'

He was himself seized

end of ten days bade

This was in the year

1575, from which commenced the ruin of Gour.
'No part of the site of ancient Gour,' says Rennel,
'is nearer to the present bank of the Ganges than four
miles and a half; and some parts of it, which were ori-
ginally washed by that river, are now twelve miles from
it. However, a small stream, that communicates with
the Ganges, now runs by its west side, and is navigable
during the rainy season. On the east side, and in some
places within two miles, it has the Mahananda river,
which is always navigable, and communicates also with
the Ganges. Taking the extent of the ruins of Gour at
the most reasonable calculation, it is not less than fifteen
miles in length (extending along the old bank of the
Ganges), and from two to three in breadth. Several
villages stand on part of its site, the remainder is
covered with thick forests, the habitations of tigers and
other beasts of prey; or become arable land whose soil
is chiefly composed of brick-dust. The principal ruins
are a mosque lined with black marble, elaborately
wrought; and two gates of the citadel, which are
strikingly grand and lofty. These fabrics, and some few
others, appear to owe their duration to the nature of
their materials, which are less marketable, and more
difficult to separate, than those of the ordinary brick
buildings, which have been, and continue to be, an
article of merchandise, and are transported to Moorshe-

The site of Gour a Wilderness.

93

dabad, Malda, and other places, for the purpose of building. These bricks are of the most solid texture of any I ever saw; and have preserved the sharpness of their edges, and smoothness of their surfaces, through a series of ages. The situation of Gour was highly suitable for the capital of Bengal and Behar, as united under one government: being nearly centrical with respect to the populous parts of those provinces; and near the junction of the principal rivers that compose that extraordinary inland navigation, for which these provinces are famed; and, moreover, secured by the Ganges and other rivers, on the only quarter from which Bengal has any cause for apprehension.'

The axe and the plough have been at work during the last fifty years to reclaim the jungle, the forest, and wastes of India. But it is doubtful whether they shall ever be applied to clear the wilderness that has formed on the site of Gour, and attracts only sportsmen for tiger-bagging and pig-sticking. The antiquary cannot be expected to carry on his researches amid the haunt of wild beasts and snakes-in the abode of pestilence and death.

'Where giant weeds a passage scarce allow
To halls deserted, portals gaping wide :'

though few spots can be more interesting than the one on which stand the hoary and dear ruins of the magnificent monuments of Gour. The author of the Ryaz Assulateen, written in 1787-8, took considerable pains to ascertain his dates by visiting Gour, and reading the inscriptions on the different buildings. Sir Charles

4

Wilkins, Librarian to the East India Company, published a set of engravings of the ruins of Gour. There is also a correct plan of the city deposited among the records of the India House. Of late, the ruins of Gour were shown in a photographic exhibition.

Three causes—the removal of the capital, the desertion of its old bed by the Ganges, and the unwholesomeness of the region-have contributed to turn Gour into a wilderness. It is impossible to pass it,' says Heber, 'without recollecting that what Gour is, Calcutta may any day become, unless the river in its fresh channel should assume a fatal direction, and sweep in its new track our churches, markets, and palaces (by the way of the Loll Diggy and the Ballighaut), to that Salt Water Lake which seems its natural estuary.' This is a sad homily for our house-owners and municipal debentureholders.

CHAPTER II.

FAR below Gour, but still high in repute, is Rajmahal, which possesses an interest derived from many historical recollections and storied associations.' The poet in his ardour may say

'Hail, stranger, hail! whose eye shall here survey,
The path of time, where ruin marks his way ;'

but there is nothing to realize preconceived notions. The city, founded by Rajah Maun Sing and adorned by Sultan Shooja, which at one time rivalled Delhi in splendour and luxury, and rung with 'the melody of the flageolet and tambourine,' is now a dismal jungle filled with the moans of the midnight bird and the shrill cries of the jackal. Up to a recent day there were many vestiges of the works of Raja Maun, of the palace of Sultan Shooja, of the stone-roofed and delicately-carved balcony described by Bishop Heber as 'still retaining traces of gilding and Arabic inscriptions,' and of mosques, gateways, and other buildings. They have all disappeared-many of them having been blasted by gunpowder to make room for the Railway works. The place has scarcely any interest for the traveller, and forms only wretched knots of huts dispersed at

considerable and inconvenient distances from each other. The only recommendation of the town is its pretty situation upon a high, steep bank, from which the Himalayas are visible on a clear morning, and below which the Ganges, as if incensed at being obliged to make a circuit round the barrier of the hills,' sweeps with great violence, and, chafing in wrath, sometimes rends away several acres of ground. The beautiful, blue, and woody hills are about five miles inland.

It was on the opposite shore to Rajmahal, that Surajau-Dowla happened to be detected and seized by his enemies. In his flight from Moorshedabad towards Patna, he became oppressed with hunger, and landed at the cell of a poor Mahomedan dervish on the bank of the river opposite to Rajmahal. Thirteen months before had this dervish been deprived of his ears by the order of the fugitive tyrant, and he had good reason to remember his person, and recognize him in his disguise. Receiving his guests courteously, and setting about to prepare a dish of kicheery for them, he privately sent off a man across the river, and leading a brother of Meer Jaffer to the fugitive's hiding-place, had him seized and conveyed to Moorshedabad to revenge the loss of his ears.

From Rajmahal, we carry the reader on board the India General Steam Navigation Company's steamer Agra with the flat Chumbul. It was on a bright sunny afternoon that we turned our back upon the desolate city of Rajmahal, and when we were fairly embarked