“I have paid two visits to Agra since I returned from Lucnow, and thought of you and the sāhib whilst admiring the Tāj. Do not, for the sake of all that is elegant, think of going home without paying it a visit. I shall, with great delight, be your cicerone in these regions: if you put it off much longer (if alive), I shall scarce be able to crawl with old age. Do not think of quitting India; it is a country far preferable to the cold climate, and still colder hearts of Europe.”
W. L. G—, Khasgunge.
The Tāj Mahul—Arzumund Bānoo—Shāhjahān—The Screen—The Echo of the Dome—Momtâza Zumâni—Her Sons and Daughters—Asaf-jāh—Noormāhul—Ruins of the second Tāj—Offerings at the Shrine—The wall—The Kālūn Darwāza—The Fountains—Melā of the Eed—The Burj—The Jāmma Khāna—The Masjid—The Bāo’lī—Tomb and Masjid of the Fathī pooree Begam—Tomb of the Akbarābādee Begam—Ground-plan of the Tāj—The Minarets—Stones used in the Mosaic—Tomb of the Simundee Begam—The Sitee Khanam—A Farewell to the Tāj.
1835, Jan.—I have seen the Tāj Mahul; but how shall I describe its loveliness? its unearthly style of beauty! It is not its magnitude; but its elegance, its proportions, its exquisite workmanship, and the extreme delicacy of the whole, that render it the admiration of the world. The tomb, a fine building of white marble, erected upwards of two centuries ago, is still in a most wonderful state of preservation, as pure and delicate as when first erected. The veins of grey in the marble give it a sort of pearl-like tint, that adds to, rather than diminishes its beauty. It stands on a square terrace of white marble, on each angle of which is a minaret of the same material. The whole is carved externally and internally, and inlaid with ornaments formed of blood-stones, agates, lapis lazuli, &c. &c., representing natural flowers. The inscriptions over all the arches are in the Arabic character, in black marble, inlaid on white. The dome itself, the four smaller domes, and the cupolas on the roof, are all of the same white marble carved beautifully, and inlaid with flowers in coloured stones.
THE TĀJ MEHUL.
فاني پارکس
The outline of the Tāj, that I have annexed, was executed by Luteef, a native artist at Agra. It merely gives a faint idea of the style of architecture; the beauty of the tomb, the handsome buildings that appertain to it, the marble courts, the fine garden, the fountains, the beautiful trees, the river Jumna,—all are omitted, the mere elevation is represented in the sketch. The dome of the Tāj, like all domes erected by the Muhammadans, is egg-shaped, a form greatly admired; the dome in Hindoo architecture is always semicircular; and it is difficult to determine to which style of building should be awarded the palm of beauty.
This magnificent monument was raised by Shāhjahān to the memory of his favourite Sultana Arzumund Bānoo, on whom, when he ascended the throne, he bestowed the title of Momtâza Zumâni (the Most Exalted of the age).
On the death of Shāhjahān, his grandson Alumgeer placed his cenotaph in the Tāj, on the right hand, and close to that of Arzumund Bānoo; this is rather a disfigurement, as the building was intended alone for the Lady of the Tāj, whose cenotaph rests in the centre. Formerly, a screen of silver and gold surrounded it; but when Alumgeer erected the tomb of Shāhjahān by the side of that of the Sultana, he removed the screen of gold and silver, and replaced it by an octagonal marble screen, which occupies about half the diameter of the building, and encloses the tombs. The open fretwork and mosaic of this screen are most beautiful: each side is divided into three panels, pierced and carved with a delicacy equal to the finest carving in ivory; and bordered with wreaths of flowers inlaid, of agate, bloodstone, cornelian, and every variety of pebble. I had the curiosity to count the number contained in one of the flowers, and found there were seventy-two; there are fifty flowers of the same pattern. The cenotaphs themselves are inlaid in the same manner; I never saw any thing so elegant; the tombs, to be properly appreciated, must be seen, as all the native drawings make them exceedingly gaudy, which they are not. The inscriptions on both are of black marble inlaid on white, ornamented with mosaic flowers of precious stones.
The first glance on entering is imposing in the extreme: the dim religious light, the solemn echoes,—at first I imagined that priests in the chambers above were offering up prayers for the soul of the departed, and the echo was the murmur of the requiem. When many persons spoke together it was like thunder,—such a volume of powerful sounds; the natives compare it to the roar of many elephants. “Whatever you say to a dome it says to you again[126].” A prayer repeated over the tomb is echoed and re-echoed above like the peal of an organ, or the distant and solemn chant in a cathedral.
Each arch has a window, the frames of marble, with little panes of glass, about three inches square. Underneath the cenotaphs is a vaulted apartment, where the remains of the Emperor and the Sultana are buried in two sarcophagi, facsimiles of the cenotaphs above. The crypt is square, and of plain marble; the tombs here are also beautifully inlaid, but sadly defaced in parts by plunderers. The small door by which you enter was formerly of solid silver: it is now formed of rough planks of mango wood.
It is customary with Musulmāns to erect the cenotaph in an apartment over the sarcophagus, as may be seen in all the tombs of their celebrated men. The Musulmāns who visit the Tāj lay offerings of money and flowers, both on the tombs below and the cenotaphs above; they also distribute money in charity, at the tomb, or at the gate, to the fakīrs.
The Sultana Arzumund Bānoo was the daughter of the vizier, Asaf-jāh; she was married twenty years to Shāhjahān, and bore him a child almost every year; she died on the 18th July, 1631, in childbed, about two hours after the birth of a princess. Though she seldom interfered in public affairs, Shāhjahān owed the empire to her influence with her father: nor was he ungrateful; he loved her living, and lamented her when dead. Calm, engaging, and mild in her disposition, she engrossed his whole affection; and though he maintained a number of women for state, they were only the slaves of her pleasure. She was such an enthusiast in Deism, that she could scarcely forbear persecuting the Portuguese for their supposed idolatry, and it was only on what concerned that nation she suffered her temper, which was naturally placid, to be ruffled. To express his respect for her memory, the Emperor raised this tomb, which cost in building the amazing sum of £750,000 sterling. The death of the Sultana, in 1631, was followed by public calamities of various kinds. Four sons and four daughters survived her,—Dara, Suja, Aurunzebe, and Morâd: Aurunzebe succeeded to the throne of his father. The daughters were, the Princess Jahânārā (the Ornament of the World), Roshenrāi Begam (or the Princess of the Enlightened Mind), Suria Bânū (or the Splendid Princess), and another, whose name is not recorded. Arzumund Bānoo was the enemy of the Portuguese, then the most powerful European nation in India, in consequence of having accompanied Shāhjahān to one of their settlements, when she was enraged beyond measure against them, for the worship they paid to images.
Such is the account given of the Most Exalted of the Age; but we have no record of her beauty, nor have we reason to suppose that she was beautiful. She was the niece of one of the most celebrated of women, the Sultana of Jahāngeer, whose titles were Mher-ul-nissa (the Sun of Women), Noor-mâhul (the Light of the Empire), and Noor-jahān (Light of the World).
Noor-jahān was the sister of the Vizier Asaf-jāh, and aunt to the lady of the Tāj. Many people, seeing the beauty of the building, confuse the two persons, and bestow in their imaginations the beauty of the aunt on the niece. Looking on the tomb of Shāhjahān, one cannot but remember that, either by the dagger or the bow-string, he dispatched all the males of the house of Timūr, so that he himself and his children only remained of the posterity of Baber, who conquered India.
In former times no Musulmān was allowed to enter the Tāj, but with a bandage over his eyes, which was removed at the grave where he made his offerings. The marble floor was covered with three carpets, on which the feet sank deeply, they were so soft and full. Pardas (screens) of silk, of fine and beautiful materials, were hung between all the arches. Chandeliers of crystal, set with precious stones, hung from the ceiling of the dome. There was also one chandelier of agate and another of silver: these were carried off by the Jāt Suruj Mul, who came from the Deccan and despoiled Agra.
It was the intention of Shāhjahān to have erected a mausoleum for himself, exactly similar to the Tāj, on the opposite side of the river; and the two buildings were to have been united by a bridge of marble across the Jumna. The idea was magnificent; but the death of Shāhjahān took place in 1666, while he was a prisoner, and ere he had time to complete his own monument.
The stones were prepared on the opposite side of the Jumna, and were carried off by the Burtpoor Rajah, and a building at Deeg has been formed of those stones. A part of the foundation of the second Tāj is still standing, just opposite the Tāj Mahul.
An immense space of ground is enclosed by a magnificent wall around the Tāj, and contains a number of elegant buildings, surrounded by fine old trees, and beds of the most beautiful flowers; the wall itself is remarkable, of great height, of red stone, and carved both inside and outside.
The Kālūn Darwāza, or great gateway, is a fine building; the four large and twenty-two smaller domes over the top of the arched entrance are of white marble; the gateway is of red granite, ornamented with white marble, inlaid with precious stones.
From the second story is a fine view of the Tāj itself, to which it is directly opposite. I sat in this superb gateway some time, looking at the durwān’s snakes; he keeps, as pets, cobra de capellos, caught in the gardens of the Tāj. There are four rooms in this gateway, in which strangers, who are visitors, sometimes live during the hot weather.
A long line of eighty-four fountains runs up through the centre of the garden from this gateway to the tomb itself, eighty of which are in perfect order. Twenty-two play in the centre of the garden; ten are on the sides of the tomb in the courts before the Masjids, and the rest run up in the line from the gate to the tomb. The water is brought across a fine aqueduct from the Jumna. Of an evening, when the fountains are playing, and the odour of exotic flowers is on the air, the fall of the water has a delightful effect, both on the eye and ear: it is really an Indian paradise.
Feb. 1st.—A fair, the melā of the Eed, was held without the great gateway; crowds of gaily-dressed and most picturesque natives were seen in all directions passing through the avenue of fine trees, and by the side of the fountains to the tomb: they added great beauty to the scene, whilst the eye of taste turned away pained and annoyed by the vile round hats and stiff attire of the European gentlemen, and the equally ugly bonnets and stiff and graceless dresses of the English ladies. Besides the melā at the time of the Eed, a small fair is held every Sunday evening beyond the gates; the fountains play, the band is sent down occasionally, and the people roam about the beautiful garden, in which some of the trees are very large and must be very ancient.
A thunderbolt has broken a piece of marble off the dome of the Tāj. They say during the same storm another bolt fell on the Mootee Masjid, in the Fort, and another on the Jamma Musjid at Delhi.
The gardens are kept in fine order; the produce in fruit is very valuable. A great number of persons are in attendance upon, and in charge of, the tomb, the buildings, and the garden, on account of the Honourable Company, who also keep up the repairs of the Tāj.
At this season the variety of flowers is not very great; during the rains the flowers must be in high perfection. The mālī (gardener) always presents me with a bouquet on my entering the garden, and generally points out to my notice the wall-flower as of my country, and not a native of India.
All the buildings in the gardens on the right are fitted up for the reception of visitors, if strangers: they are too cold at this time of the year, or I would take up my abode in one of the beautiful burj (turrets) next to the river.
The two jāmma khānas are beautiful buildings, on each side of the tomb, of red stone, carved outside, and ornamented with white marble and precious stones. One of them is a masjid: the domes are of white marble; the interior is ornamented with flowers in white chūnā and carved red stone. One of the burj near the masjid contains a fine bā’olī (well). The four burj at each corner of the enclosure are of the most beautiful architecture, light and graceful; they are of the same fine red stone, and the domes are of white marble. From the one generally used as a residence by visitors to the tomb, the view of the Tāj, the gardens, the river, and the Fort of Agra beyond, is very fine. During the rains the river rises, and flows against the outer wall that surrounds the gardens. The view from the river of this frost-work building, the tomb, is beautiful: the fine trees at the back of it, the reflection of its marble walls, and of the two jāmma khānas, with that of the elegant bastions or towers in the stream is very lovely.
The fretwork appearance of the Tāj is produced by the quantity of carving on the white marble, which is also ornamented externally with inlaid Arabic characters, and precious stones worked into flowers, around the arches and the domes. The marble is cleaned every year, and kept in a state of perfect purity and repair. Constant attention is requisite to remove the grass and young trees that shoot forth in any moist crevice: the birds carry the seeds of the peepul-tree to the roofs, and the young trees shoot forth, injuring those buildings that are in repair, while they impart great beauty to ruins.
Beyond the Great Gate, but still within the enclosure of the outer wall of the Tāj, are the tombs of two begams, erected by Shāhjahān. The sarcophagus over the remains of the Fathīpooree Begam is of white marble, carved very beautifully: its pure white marble, without any inlaid work or mosaic, is particularly to be admired. The building which contains it is of the lightest and most beautiful architecture, and of carved red stone; the dome of plain white marble.
On the other side the enclosure, to correspond with this tomb, is that of the Akbarābādee Begam. The building of red carved stone, the dome of white marble; the floor and the sides of the apartment that contains the sarcophagus are of white marble. The latter is beautifully inlaid with precious stones. On the top of the upper slab is a sort of royal coronet of precious stones, inlaid on the marble.
Both these tombs are in tolerable preservation from being within the enclosure of the walls of the Tāj.
In speaking of the red-stone of which the buildings are formed, let it not be supposed it is of a red, like the flaming and varnished red in the pictures by the native artists. The red granite is of a sober and dingy reddish colour, and looks very handsome in buildings; the stones are very large, and generally beautifully carved; they are of three sorts: the first is of pure red granite, the second mottled with white spots, and the third sort streaked with white; all very handsome in architecture. I brought away a bit of the fallen ornament of red granite from the tomb of the Akbarābādee Begam as a specimen. The same granite is in quantities in the quarries at Futtehpoor Sickri. The buildings in the old city of Agra are of the same material, and some of them, which must be very ancient, are of this highly-carved red freestone.
I laid an offering of rupees and roses on the cenotaph of Arzumund Banoo, which purchased me favour in the eyes of the attendants. They are very civil, and bring me bouquets of beautiful flowers. I have stolen away many times alone to wander during the evening in the beautiful garden which surrounds it. The other day, long after the usual hour, they allowed the fountains to play until I quitted the gardens.
Can you imagine any thing so detestable? European ladies and gentlemen have the band to play on the marble terrace, and dance quadrilles in front of the tomb! It was over the parapet of this terrace a lady fell a few months ago, the depth of twenty feet, to the inlaid pavement below. Her husband beheld this dreadful accident from the top of the minaret he had just ascended.
I cannot enter the Tāj without feelings of deep devotion: the sacredness of the place, the remembrance of the fallen grandeur of the family of the Emperor, and that of Asaf Jāh, the father of Arzumund Banoo, the solemn echoes, the dim light, the beautiful architecture, the exquisite finish and delicacy of the whole, the deep devotion with which the natives prostrate themselves when they make their offerings of money and flowers at the tomb, all produce deep and sacred feelings; and I could no more jest or indulge in levity beneath the dome of the Tāj, than I could in my prayers.
The gateway to the garden is very grand; it is of red stone, inlaid with marble, and surmounted by a row of little marble cupolas.
Through a magnificent pair of brass gates you enter a dome, fifty feet in diameter, through which you pass on to the Tāj. The spandrils of all the arches are filled up with elegantly-arranged groups of flowers; there are also broad inscriptions running round the greater arches, both at the gate and the Tāj.
The approach is from the south, through the grand gateway of the garden; up the whole length of which, in the centre of fine trees, is a line of beautiful fountains; the vista is finished by the Tāj. At the end of this fountain-adorned avenue, you ascend by a hidden staircase of twenty solid blocks of marble, and arrive on the terrace above, formed of the same material, from which you go on to the interior of the Tāj, which is an octagon, surmounted by a dome seventy feet in diameter. The lower range of arches has an entablature, which is filled with extracts from the Kur’ān inlaid in black marble.
The general form of the building is square, with the angles cut off, each front having a large elliptic gothic arch (with a very deep recess) in the centre; and the two wings have each two smaller arches, one above the other, and recessed in the same manner as the larger ones; the obtuse angles are divided in the same way, and appear to belong commonly to each of the four fronts, as you happen to stand opposite them. The whole is surmounted by the great dome, surrounded with four smaller ones. Strangers, when visiting the Tāj, are so much occupied in viewing the centre apartment, which contains the tombs, that they often omit visiting the eight rooms that surround that central apartment; four of which are of square, and four of octagonal form; on the upper floor are eight rooms of a similar description. The ground plan annexed I copied from an original plan, shown to me at the tomb.
Ground Plan of the Tomb of the Tāj.
فاني پارکس
It covers an area of two hundred feet square, upon a terrace of white marble, about twenty feet above the one of stone, and three hundred and fifty feet square. At each angle is a minaret upon an octagonal base, eighty feet in circumference: the bottom of the shaft is twenty feet in diameter, so that I should think the minarets are at least one hundred and fifty feet high. The minarets, of white marble, inlaid with precious stones, are specimens of the most beautiful architecture it is possible to imagine. Lastly; the stone or lower terrace extends on each side of the Tāj, and is finished by a mosque on each side, and four beautiful octagonal bastions, surrounded by dark red stone verandahs, covered with elegant marble domes. The whole extent of the lower terrace is, I should say, full nine hundred feet; the pavement is inlaid with black and white marble.
The Tāj was twelve years in building; two lākhs per annum were allowed to keep it in order, and support the establishment of priests and servants. It is situated on the western bank of the Jumna, three miles from the town of Agra; it is nineteen yards square; and the dome about seventy feet in diameter: the stones used in the mosaic are:—
A single flower in the screen sometimes contains one hundred stones, exactly fitted, forming a correct representation; many hundred flowers have equal numbers. It is impossible to estimate the cost: the most valuable materials were furnished by the sūbadārs of provinces.
Tavernier, who saw this building commenced and finished, asserts, that it occupied twenty thousand men for twenty-two years. The mausoleum itself, and all the buildings that pertain to it, cost 3,17,48026,—three crore, seventeen lākhs, and forty-eight thousand and twenty-six rupees; or, £3,174,802,—three millions, one hundred and seventy-four thousand, eight hundred and two pounds sterling. Colonel Sleeman, in his “Rambles of an Indian Official,” remarks,—“This magnificent building, and the palaces at Agra and Delhi, were, I believe, designed by Austin de Bordeux, a Frenchman of great talent and merit, in whose ability and integrity the Emperor placed much reliance. He was called by the natives Oostan Eesau Nadir ol Asur, the Wonderful of the Age; and, for his office of nuksha nuwees, or plan-drawer, he received a regular salary of one thousand rupees a month, with occasional presents, that made his income very large. He died at Cochin, on his way back from Goa, whither he had been sent by the Emperor; and is supposed to have been poisoned by the Portuguese, who were extremely jealous of his influence at court. Oostan Eesau, in all the Persian accounts, stands among the salaried architects.”
Beyond the gate, outside the walls, is the tomb of the Simundee Begam, built by Shāhjahān; the place is in ruins. A cowherd feeds his cattle on the marble pavement within the tomb; and sacrilegious hands have picked out all the precious stones with which the white marble sarcophagus was inlaid. The same royal coronet adorns this grave: the masjid, close to it, which is in ruins, is of carved red granite, ornamented with white marble, and surmounted by three white marble domes. The tomb is of red granite, with a white marble dome.
Beyond the outer gate, to the right, is a masjid belonging to the tomb of the Fathīpooree Begam, built of red carved granite, now in ruins: within, a number of young natives were winding and twisting silk; the bright red and golden-coloured silks gleamed in the light,—a curious contrast to the ruin of sober red granite.
A short distance beyond is the Sitee Khānam, which, as well as the masjid opposite, was built by Shāhjahān; it is of red granite, the dome is also of the same material,—unlike the other tombs, of which the domes are of white marble: the interior is of white marble, and contains the graves of two sisters. The graves are of slightly-carved white marble, with coronets of an inferior sort carved on the upper slab; probably they were attendants or dependents on the Begam.
The erection of the Tāj was the most delicate and elegant tribute, and the highest compliment, ever paid to woman.
And now adieu!—beautiful Tāj,—adieu! In the far, far West I shall rejoice that I have gazed upon your beauty; nor will the memory depart until the lowly tomb of an English gentlewoman closes on my remains.