THE CHEEN KE PADSHĀDĀNEE, KE MASJID,
Or the mosque of the Princess of China, is on the same side of the river as the tomb of the Wuzeer, situated to the left of the Bridge of Boats. It is built directly upon the river. The effect of the reflection of the brilliant porcelain enamel with which it is inlaid must have been most beautiful in the clear stream below. The building consisted of the tomb itself, on each side of which was a masjid, and beyond each masjid was a burj, as the natives call them, a pavilion or turret. These five buildings were all of the same brilliant enamel, like finely coloured porcelain—flowers in compartments, and Arabic inscriptions over the arched doorways. The interior was of the same work, mixed with much gold. As bits fall from the ceiling the natives melt them and sell the gold. Within the tomb are some sarcophagi which have been completely destroyed by the gardeners, who live within the tomb and tie their bullocks to the graves! When the sun shines on the outside of the building the remains of the porcelain dazzle the sight. The river flows by and washes the walls. A native boy offered to bring me some of his toys, bits of enamel which had fallen from the roof; but the father interposed, and rather angrily prevented his showing them; of course, on account of the value of the gold mixed up with the enamel. This place, they tell me, belongs to the Government, by whose order they say the ceilings have been sold to merchants in Agra, by which means the two mosques and the two burj have been quite destroyed. To whom this monument and mosque belonged I could not discover. “When he died and when the worms ate him I know not[128].”
The Rām Bagh, adjoining this tomb, is a fine native garden, laid out, by the Empress Noor-jahān, in stone walks, terraces, temples, pavilions, and a building in the centre, on the side of the river.
Invalids come here to reside for the benefit of their health; I sat down under the shade of the fine trees, and spent some of the hottest hours of mid-day, reading the history of the mighty dead, and pondering over the fallen greatness of former days. It was cool and pleasant, and the scene a gay one: the garden was filled with gaily-dressed Hindoos, who came to visit the place during the fair that is annually held near the spot; the fruit sells for about one thousand rupees a year.
The Syud Bagh, a garden next to it, although in ruins, is a much finer one than the Rām Bagh: the pavilions on the river-side are remarkably beautiful, of richly-carved red granite; it was laid out by—non mi ricordo.
19th.—My husband having arrived dāk, with great delight I accompanied him to visit the Fort, and displayed for his benefit all my recently-acquired knowledge.