CONTENTS.

Cenotaphs—Palaces at Gualior, AmbÊr, Deeg—GhÂts—Reservoirs—Dams.

Cenotaphs.

As remarked above, one of the most unexpected peculiarities of the art, as practised by the inhabitants of southern India, is the absence of any attempt at sepulchral magnificence. As the Dravidians were undoubtedly of Turanian origin, and were essentially builders, we certainly would expect that they should show some respect for the memories of their great men. It is, however, even uncertain how far the cromlechs, dolmens, or sepulchral circles found all over the south of India can be said to belong to the Dravidians in a ruder stage of society, or whether they belong to some aboriginal tribes who may have adopted the language of the superior races without being able to change the instincts of their race. Even after they had seen how much respect the Mahomedans paid to departed greatness, they failed to imitate them in this peculiarity. It was otherwise in the north of India—not among the pure Aryans, of course; but in the Rajput states, where blood is less pure, they eagerly seized the suggestion offered by Mahomedan magnificence in this respect, and erected chuttries on the spots where their bodies had been burnt. Where, too, their widows, with that strange devotion which is the noblest trait in the Hindu female’s character, had sacrificed themselves to what they conceived to be their duty.

In Rajputana every native capital has its Maha SÂti, or place where the sovereigns of the state and their nearest relatives are buried with their wives. Most of these are appropriately situated in a secluded spot at some little distance from the town, and, the locality being generally chosen because it is rocky and well-wooded, it forms as picturesque a necropolis as is to be found anywhere. Of these, however, the most magnificent, and certainly among the most picturesque, is that of Oudeypore, the capital of Mewar and the chief of all the Rajput states still existing. Here the tombs exist literally in hundreds, of all sizes, from the little domical canopy supported by

four columns to the splendid chuttry whose octagonal dome is supported by fifty-six, for it has been the burying-place of the race ever since they were expelled from the ancient capital at Chittore by Akbar in 1580. All are crowned by domes, and all make more or less pretensions to architectural beauty; while as they are grouped together as accident dictated, and interspersed with noble trees, it would be difficult to point out a more beautiful cemetery anywhere. Among the finest is that of Singram Sing, one of the most illustrious of his race, who was buried on this spot, with twenty-one of his wives, in A.D. 1733. As will be seen from the annexed Woodcut (No. 265), it is a fifty-six pillared portico, with one octagonal dome in the centre (vide ante, Woodcut No. 119). The dome itself is supported on eight dwarf pillars, which, however, hardly seem sufficient for the purpose. The architect seems to have desired to avoid all appearances of that gloom or solemnity which characterise the contemporary tombs of the Moslems, but, in doing this, to have erred in the other direction. The base here is certainly not sufficiently solid for the mass it has to support; but the whole is so elegant, and the effect so pleasing, that it seems hypercritical to find fault with it, and difficult to find, even among Mahomedan tombs, anything more beautiful.

He it was, apparently, who erected the cenotaph to the memory of his predecessor Amera Sing II., for the Hindus do not appear to have gone so far in their imitation of the Moslems as to erect their own tombs. In style it is very similar to that last described, except that it possesses only thirty-two columns instead of fifty-six. It has, however, the same lofty stylobate, which adds so much to the effect of these tombs, but has also the same defect—that the dome is raised on eight dwarf columns, which do not seem sufficient for the purpose.[473]

Woodcut No. 266 represents a cenotaph in this cemetery with only twelve columns, which, mutatis mutandis, is identical with the celebrated tomb at Halicarnassus.[474] The lofty stylobate, the twelve columns, the octagonal dome, and the general mode of construction are the same; but the twelve or thirteen centuries that have elapsed between the construction of the two, and the difference of locality, have so altered the details that the likeness is not at first sight easily recognisable. From the form of its dome it is evidently considerably more modern than that last described; it may, indeed, have been erected within the limits of the present century.

To the right of the same woodcut is another cenotaph with only eight pillars, but the effect is so weak and unpleasing that it is hardly to be wondered at that the arrangement is so rare. The angle columns seem indispensable to give the design that accentuation and firmness which are indispensable in all good architecture.

These last two illustrations, it will be observed, are practically in the Jaina style of architecture; for, though adopting a Mahomedan form, the Ranas of Oudeypore clung to the style of architecture which their ancestors had practised, and which Khumbo Rana had only recently rendered so famous. This gives them a look of greater antiquity than they are entitled to, for it is quite certain that Oudeypore was not the capital of the kingdom before the sack of Chittore in 1580; and nearly equally so that the Hindus never thought of this mode of commemorating their dead till the tolerant reign of Akbar. He did more than all that had been done before or since to fuse together the antagonistic feelings of the two religions into at least a superficial similarity.

Further north, where the Jaina style never had been used to the same extent at least as in the south-west, the Hindus adopted quite a different style in their palaces and cenotaphs. It was much more of an arched style, and though never, so far as I know, using a true arch, they adopted the form of the foliated arch, which is so common in the palaces of Agra and Delhi, and all the Mogul buildings. In the palace at Deeg, and in the cenotaphs of Goverdhun, this style is seen in great perfection. It is well illustrated, with all its peculiarities, in the next view of the tomb of Baktawar Sing at Ulwar,

erected within the limits of the present century (Woodcut No. 267). To a European eye, perhaps the least pleasing part will be the Bengali curved cornices alluded to in the last chapter; but to any one familiar with the style, its employment gets over many difficulties that a straight line could hardly meet, and altogether it makes up with its domes and pavilions as pleasing a group of its class as is to be found in India, of its age at least. The tombs of the Bhurtpore Rajahs at Goverdhun are similar to this one, but on a larger scale, and some of them being older, are in better taste; but the more modern ones avoid most of the faults that are only too characteristic of the art in India at the present day, and some of them are very modern. One was in course of construction when I was there in 1839, and from its architect I learned more of the secrets of art as practised in the Middle Ages than I have learned from all the books I have since read. Another was commenced after the time of my visit, and it is far from being one of the worst buildings of its class. If one could only inspire the natives with a feeling of pride in their own style, there seems little doubt that even now they could rival the works of their forefathers.

Palaces.

Another feature by which the northern style is most pleasingly distinguished from the southern, is the number and beauty of the palaces, which are found in all the capitals of the native states, especially in Rajputana. These are seldom designed with much reference to architectural symmetry or effect, but are nevertheless always picturesque and generally most ornamental objects in the landscape where they are found. As a rule, they are situated on rocky eminences, jutting into or overhanging lakes or artificial pieces of water, which are always pleasing accompaniments to buildings of any sort in that climate; and the way they are fitted into the rocks, or seem to grow out of them, frequently leads to the most picturesque combinations. Sometimes their bases are fortified with round towers or bastions, on whose terraces the palace stands; and even when this is not the case, the basement is generally built up solid to a considerable height, in a manner that gives a most pleasing effect of solidity to the whole, however light the superstructure may be, and often is. If to these natural advantages you add the fact that the high caste Hindu is almost incapable of bad taste, and that all these palaces are exactly what they profess to be, without any affectation of pretending to be what they are not, or of copying any style, ancient or modern, but that best suited for their purposes—it will not be difficult to realise what pleasing objects of study these Rajput palaces really are. At the same time it will be easily understood how difficult it must be in such a work as this to convey any adequate idea of their beauty; without plans explaining their arrangements, and architectural details of their interior, neither their elegance nor appropriateness can be judged of. A palace is not like a temple—a simple edifice of one or two halls or cells, almost identical with hundreds of others; but a vast congeries of public and private apartments grouped as a whole more for convenience than effect.

Few of the palaces of India have escaped the fate of that class of edifice all the world over. Either they must be deserted and left to decay, which in India means rapid obliteration, or they must be altered and modified to suit the requirements of subsequent occupants, till little if anything remains of the original structure. This fate, so far as is known, has overtaken all the royal abodes that may have existed before the dark ages; so much so, indeed, that no trace of them has been found anywhere. Even after that we look in vain for anything important before the 13th century. At Chittore, for instance, where one of the earliest Rajput dynasties was established, there are buildings that bear the name of the Palace of the Mori, but so altered and remodelled as to be unrecognisable as such; nor can the palace of the Khengar at Girnar exhibit any feature that belongs to the date to which it is assigned.

At Chittore the oldest building of this class which can with certainty be said to have existed anterior to the sack of the place by Alla-u-dÎn in 1305, is the palace of BhÎm and Pudmandi, which remains unaltered, and is, though small, a very pleasing example of the style.[475] The palace of Khumbo Rana (A.D. 1418-1468) in the same place is far more grandiose, and shows all that beauty of detail which characterises his buildings in general.

The palaces at Chittore belonging to this dynasty were however far surpassed, in extent at least, by those which Udya Sing commenced at Udyapur or Oudeypore, to which place he removed his capital after the third sack of Chittore by Akbar in 1580. It has not unfrequently been compared with the Castle at Windsor, and not inaptly, for both in outline and extent it is not unlike that palace, though differing so wonderfully in detail and in situation. In this latter respect the Eastern has the advantage of the Western palace, as it stands on the verge of an extensive lake, surrounded by hills of great beauty of outline, and in the lake are two island palaces, the Jug Newas and Jug Mundir, which are more beautiful in their class than any similar objects I know of elsewhere.[476] It would be difficult to find any scene where art and nature are so happily blended together and produce so fairy-like an effect. Certainly nothing I know of so modern a date equals it.

The palace at Boondi is of about the same modern age as that at Oudeypore, and almost equals it in architectural effect. It is smaller however, and its lake is less in extent, and has only temples standing on its islets, instead of palaces with their pavilions and gardens. Still, the mode in which it is placed on its hill, and the way in which its buildings gradually fade into the bastions of the hill above, are singularly picturesque even for this country, and the hills being higher, and the valleys narrower, the effect of this palace is in some respects even more imposing than that at Oudeypore.

There are, however, some twenty or thirty similar royal residences in Central India, all of which have points of interest and beauty: some for their extent, others for their locality, and some for their beauty in detail, but every one of which would require a volume to describe in detail. Two examples, though among the least known, must at present suffice to illustrate their general appearance.

That at Duttiah (Woodcut No. 268), in Bundelcund, is a large square block of building, more regular than such buildings generally are, but still sufficiently relieved both in outline, and in the variety of detail applied to the various storeys, to avoid monotony, and with its gardens leading down to the lake, and its tombs opposite, combine to make up an architectural scene of a singularly pleasing character.

The other is even less known, as it belongs to the little Bundelcund

state of Ourtcha (Woodcut No. 269), but is of a much more varied outline than that at Duttiah, and with its domes and gateways makes up as picturesque a combination as can well be found anywhere. It is too modern for much purity of detail, but that in a residence is less objectionable than it would be in a temple, or in an edifice devoted to any higher purpose.

Gualior.

Perhaps the most historically interesting of these Central Indian palaces is that of Gualior. The rock on which that fortress stands is of so peculiar a formation, and by nature so strong, that it must always have been occupied by the chiefs of the state in which it is situated. Its temples have already been described, but its older palaces have undergone the fate of all similar edifices; it, however, possesses, or possessed, in that built by MÂn Sing (A.D. 1486-1516), the most remarkable and interesting example of a Hindu palace of an early age in India. The external dimensions of this palace are 300 ft. by 160 ft., and on the east side it is 100 ft. high, having two underground storeys looking over the country. On all its faces the flat surface is relieved by tall towers of singularly pleasing design, crowned by cupolas that were covered with domes of gilt copper when Baber saw them in 1527.[477] His successor, Vicramaditya, added another palace, of even greater extent, to this one in 1516;[478] and Jehangir and Shah Jehan added palaces to these two, the whole making up a group of edifices unequalled for picturesqueness and interest by anything of their class that exists in Central India.[479] Among the apartments in the palace was one called the Baradurri, supported on twelve columns, and 45 ft. square, with a stone roof, which was one of the most beautiful apartments of its class anywhere to be found. It was, besides, singularly interesting from the expedients to which the Hindu architect was forced to resort to imitate the vaults of the Moslems. They had not then learned to copy them, as they did at the end of that century, at Bindrabun and elsewhere, under the guidance of the tolerant Akbar.

Of these buildings, which so excited the admiration of the Emperor Baber, probably little now remains. The Moslems added to the palaces of the Hindus, and spared their temples and the statues of the Jains. We have ruthlessly set to work to destroy whatever interferes with our convenience, and during the few years we have occupied the fort, have probably done more to disfigure its beauties, and obliterate its memories, than was caused by the Moslems during the centuries they possessed or occupied it. Better things were at one time hoped for, but the fact seems to be, the ruling powers have no real heart in the matter, and subordinates are allowed to do as they please, and if they can save money or themselves trouble, there is nothing in India that can escape the effect of their unsympathising ignorance.

AmbÊr.

The palace at AmbÊr, the original capital of the Jeypore states, ranks next after that of Gualior as an architectural object among the Rajput palaces. It is, however, a century more modern, having been commenced by another MÂn Singh, who ascended the throne in 1592, and was completed by Siwai Jey Sing, who added the beautiful gateway which bears his name before he removed the seat of government to Jeypore in 1728. In consequence of this more modern date it has not that stamp of Hindu originality that is so characteristic of the Gualior example, and throughout it bears a strong impress of that influence which Akbar’s mind and works stamped on everything that was done in India during his reign. Its situation, too, is inferior to that of Gualior for architectural effect. Instead of standing on a lofty rocky pedestal, and its pinnacles being relieved boldly against the sky, the AmbÊr palace is situated in a valley—picturesque, it is true, but where the masonry competes with the rocks in a manner which is certainly unfavourable to the effect of the building. Nothing, however, can be more picturesque than the way in which the palace grows, as it were, out of a rocky base or reflects itself in the mirror of the deep lake at its base, and nothing can be happier than the mode in which the principal apartments are arranged, so as to afford views over the lake and into the country beyond.

The details, too, of this palace are singularly good, and quite free from the feebleness that shortly afterwards characterised the style. In some respects, indeed, they contrast favourably with those of Akbar’s contemporary palace at Futtehpore Sikri. There the second commandment confined the fancy of the decorator to purely inanimate objects; here the laxer creed of the Hindus enabled him to indulge in elephant capitals and figure-sculpture of men and animals to any extent. The Hindus seem also to have indulged in colour and in mirrors to an extent that Akbar did not apparently feel himself justified in employing. The consequence is that the whole has a richer and more picturesque effect than its Mahomedan rival, but the two together make up a curiously perfect illustration of the architecture of that day, as seen from a Hindu, contrasted with that from a Mahomedan, point of view.

It was the same MÂn Sing who erected the Observatory at Benares which still bears his name, and though not very architectural in its general appearance, has on the river-face a balconied window, which is a fair and pleasing specimen of the architecture of his age (Woodcut No. 270). He also was the king who erected the temple at Bindrabun, which has been illustrated above (pp. 463, 464).

Deeg.

All the palaces above described are more or less irregular in their disposition, and are all situated on rocky and uneven ground. That at Deeg, however, is on a perfectly level plain, and laid out with a regularity that would satisfy the most fastidious Renaissance architect. It is wholly the work of SÛraj Mull, the virtual founder of the Bhurtpore dynasty, who commenced it, apparently in 1725, and left it as we now see it, when he was slain in battle with Nudjiff Khan in 1763. It wants, it is true, the massive character of the fortified palaces of other Rajput states, but for grandeur of conception and beauty of detail it surpasses them all.

The whole palace was to have consisted of a rectangular enclosure twice the length of its breadth, surrounded with buildings, with a garden in the centre, divided into two parts by a broad terrace, intended to carry the central pavilion. Only one of these rectangles has been completed, measuring about 700 feet square,[480] crossed in the centre by ranges of the most beautiful fountains and parterres, laid out in the formal style of the East, and interspersed with architectural ornaments of the most elaborate finish.

The pavilion on the north side contains the great audience-hall, 76 ft. 8 in. by 54 ft. 7 in., divided in the centre by a noble range of arcades, behind which are the principal dwelling apartments, two, and in some parts three, storeys in height. Opposite this is a pavilion occupied principally by fountains. On one side stands a marble hall, attached to an older palace facing the principal pavilion, which was meant to occupy the centre of the garden. As will be seen by the plan (Woodcut No. 271), it is a parallelogram of 152 ft. by 87 ft., each end occupied by a small but very elegant range of apartments, in two storeys; the central hall (108 ft. by 87 ft.) is supported on four rows of columns, and open at both sides; at each end is a marble reservoir for fountains, and a similar one exists externally on each side. The whole is roofed with stone, except the central part, which, after being contracted by a bold cove, is roofed with a flat ceiling of timber exquisitely carved. This wooden ceiling seems to have been considered a defect, nothing but stone being used in any other part of the palace. The architect, therefore, attempted to roof the corresponding pavilion of the unfinished court with slabs of stone 34 ft. in length, and 18 in. square. Some of these still exist in their places, but their weight was too great for the arcades, which are only 18 in. thick, and not of solid stone, but of two facings 4 in. or 5 in. thick, and the intermediate spaces filled in with rubble. Besides this, though the form of the arch is literally copied from the Mahomedan style, neither here, nor elsewhere throughout the palace, is there a single true arch, the openings being virtually covered by two brackets meeting in the centre.

The general appearance of the arcades of these buildings may be gathered from the annexed view (Woodcut No. 272), and may be characterised as more elegant than rich. The glory of Deeg, however, consists in the cornices, which are generally double, a peculiarity not seen elsewhere, and which for extent of shadow and richness of detail surpass any similar ornaments in India, either in ancient or modern buildings. The lower cornice is the usual sloping entablature, almost universal in such buildings. This was adopted apparently because it took the slope of the curtains, which almost invariably hang beneath its projecting shade, and which, when drawn out, seem almost a continuation of it. The upper cornice, which was horizontal, is peculiar to Deeg, and seems designed to furnish an extension of the flat roof, which in Eastern palaces is usually considered the best apartment of the house; but whether designed for this or any other purpose, it adds singularly to the richness of the effect, and by the double shadow affords a relief and character seldom exceeded even in the East.

Generally speaking, the bracket arcades of Deeg are neither so rich nor so appropriate as the bold bracket capitals of the older styles. That the bracket is almost exclusively an original Indian form of capital can, I think, scarcely be doubted; but the system was carried much further by the Moguls, especially during the reign of Akbar, than it had ever been carried by its original inventors, at least in the North. The Hindus, on receiving it back, luxuriated in its picturesque richness to an extent that astonishes every beholder; and half the effect of most of the modern buildings of India is owing to the bold projecting balconies and fanciful kiosks that diversify the otherwise plain walls.

The greatest defect of the palace is that the style, when it was erected, was losing its true form of lithic propriety. The form of its pillars and their ornaments are better suited for wood or metal than for stone architecture; and though the style of the Moguls, in the last days of their dynasty, was tending in that direction, it never threw off the solidity and constructive propriety to such an extent as is done in these modern palaces of the Hindus. It is not at Deeg carried so far as to be offensive, but it is on the verge of good taste, and in some more modern buildings assumes forms more suited for upholstery than for stone architecture.

Since the time when SÛraj Mull completed this fairy creation, the tendency, not only with the Rajput princes, but the sovereigns of such states as Oude, and even as Delhi, has been to copy the bastard style of Italian architecture we have introduced into India. It was natural, perhaps, that they should admire the arts of a race who had shown themselves in war and policy superior to themselves; but it was fatal to their arts, and whether a revival is now possible remains to be seen. It might be so, if their rulers showed the smallest possible appreciation of the works of their ancestors, but can hardly be hoped for while a department of the state is organised, as they must believe, for the express purpose of destroying and obliterating all traces of what was once noble and beautiful in the land.

GhÂts or Landing-places.

Another object of architectural magnificence peculiar to northern Hindustan, is the construction of the ghÂts that everywhere line the river-banks in most of the great cities, more especially those which are situated on the Ganges. Benares possesses perhaps the greatest number of edifices of this class; but from Calcutta to Hurdwar no city is without some specimens of this species of architectural display. The Ghoosla GhÂt at Benares (Woodcut No. 273), though one of the most modern, may be taken as a fair specimen of the class, although many are richer and much more elaborately adorned. Their object being to afford easy access to bathers, the flight of steps in front is in reality the ghÂt, and the main object of the erection. These are generally broken, as in this instance, by small projections, often crowned by kiosks, which take off the monotony inherent in long lines of narrow steps. The flight of stairs is always backed by a building, which in most instances is merely an object of architectural display without any particular destination, except to afford shelter from the rays of the sun to such of the idle as choose to avail themselves of it. When the bank is high, the lower part of these buildings is solid, and when, as in this instance, it is nearly plain, it affords a noble basement to an ornamental upper storey, with which they are generally adorned, or to the temple which frequently crowns them.

Though the Ganges is, par excellence, the river of ghÂts, one of the most beautiful in India is that erected by Ahalya Baiee (Holkar’s widow) at Maheswar, on the Nerbudda; and Ujjain and other ancient cities almost rival Benares in this respect. Indeed, there is scarcely a tank or stream in all India that is without its flight of steps, and it is seldom indeed that these are left without some adornment or an attempt at architectural display, water being always grateful in so hot a climate, and an especially favourite resort with a people so fond of washing and so cleanly in their habits as the Hindus.

Reservoirs.

The same fondness for water has given rise to another species of architectural display peculiar to India, in the great reservoirs or bowlees, which are found wherever the wells are deep and water far from the surface. In design they are exactly the reverse of the ghÂts, since the steps are wholly below the ground, and descend to the water often at a depth of 80 ft. or 100 ft. Externally they make no display, the only objects usually seen above ground being two pavilions to mark the entrance, between which a bold flight of steps, from 20 ft. to 40 ft. in width, leads down to the water. Facing the entrance is a great screen, rising perpendicularly from the water to the surface of the ground, and dividing the stairs from a circular shaft or well, up which the water is drawn by pulleys by those who prefer that mode of obtaining it instead of descending the steps. The walls between which the steps descend are ornamented by niches, or covered with galleries leading to the great screen. Where the depth is great, there is often a screen across the stairs about half-way down.

To persons not familiar with the East such an architectural object as a bowlee may seem a strange perversion of ingenuity, but the grateful coolness of all subterranean apartments, especially when accompanied by water, and the quiet gloom of these recesses, fully compensate, in the eyes of the Hindu, for the more attractive magnificence of the ghÂts. Consequently, the descending flights of which we are now speaking, have often been made more elaborate and expensive pieces of architecture than any of the buildings above ground found in their vicinity.

Dams.

In the same manner the bunds or dams of the artificial lakes, or great tanks, which are so necessary for irrigation, are often made works of great architectural magnificence, first by covering them with flights of steps, like those of the ghÂts, and then erecting temples or pavilions, and kiosks, interspersed with fountains and statues in breaks between these flights. Where all these are of marble, as is sometimes the case in Rajputana, the whole make up as perfect a piece of architectural combination as any the Hindus can boast of.

One of the most beautiful of these is that erected by Raj Sing, who ascended the throne of Oudeypore, in 1653, to form the lake of Rajsamundra (Woodcut No. 274), which is one of the most extensive in his dominions. This bund is 376 paces in length, and wholly covered with white marble steps; and with its beautiful kiosks projecting into the water, and the palaces which crown the hills at either end, it makes up a fairy scene of architectural beauty, with its waters and its woods, which is hardly surpassed by any in the East.

It would be tedious, however, to enumerate, without illustrating them, which the limits of this work will not permit, all the modes of architectural magnificence of the Hindus. Like all people untrammelled by rules derived from incongruous objects, and gifted with a feeling for the beautiful, they adorn whatever they require, and convert every object, however utilitarian in its purposes, into an object of beauty. They long ago found out that it is not temples and palaces alone that are capable of such display, but that everything which man makes may become beautiful, provided the hand of taste be guided by sound judgment, and that the architect never forgets what the object is, and never conceals the constructive exigences of the building itself. It is simply this inherent taste and love of beauty, which the Indians seem always to have possessed, directed by unaffected honesty of purpose, which enables those who are destitute of political independence, or knowledge, or power, to erect, even at the present day, buildings that will bear comparison with the best of those erected in Europe during the Middle Ages. It must be confessed that it would require far more comprehensive illustration than the preceding slight sketch of so extensive a subject can pretend to be, to make this apparent to others. But no one who has personally visited the objects of interest with which India abounds can fail to be struck with the extraordinary elegance of detail and propriety of design which pervades all the architectural achievements of the Hindus; and this not only in buildings erected in former days, but in those now in course of construction in those parts of the country to which the bad taste of their European rulers has not yet penetrated.