It is, she says, a noble expanse, which, about a hundred years ago, was a wild swampy jungle, famous only for snipe-shooting. Strange to say, it is not, like most Indian plains, burned up and brown, but, from its vicinity to the river, and the frequent showers that visit it, as fresh and green as an English park. It has a few fine tanks, and is sprinkled with some leafy trees; these, however, not so numerous as they were before the cyclones of 1864 and 1867, which swept away its chief natural beauties. Several broad well-kept drives intersect it, and it is ornamented by some graceful gardens and a few handsome columns and statues. Indeed, the Maidan is the centre of all that is grand and imposing; the shabby and the unsightly is kept behind, out of view. Facing it, along its eastern marge, stand the noble pillared palaces of Chowringhee. At one end stands the handsome new Court House; also the Town Hall, and other buildings of less pretence; and, further on, the noble pile of Government House, with four handsome entrance gates, and surrounded by shrubberies and gardens. In front spread the Eden Gardens, a delightful addition to the beauties both of Government House and the Esplanade. From this point
the business part of Calcutta extends in a northerly direction, including Dalhousie Square, with its many buildings, among which conspicuous stands the domed Post Office—the vista closing gracefully with the shapely spire of St. Andrew’s Church. At the further extremity, nearly two miles across the verdant expanse, are seen the Cathedral, with its noble spire, the General Hospital, and the Jail; and still further, the richly-wooded suburbs of Kidderpore and Alipore. Fort William fronts toward the river, and with its ramparts and buildings forms a striking object; while the whole is bordered and “beautified” by the broad river, with its crowd of masts and flags, its almost innumerable boats, its landing-ghats, and all its life and motion.
* * * * *
From Calcutta, Madame Pfeiffer proceeded to the city of temples, the sacred city of Hinduism—Benares. She visited several temples, but found them all agreeing in their leading details. That of Vishnu has two towers connected by colonnades, the summits of which are covered with gold plates. Inside are several images of Vishnu and Siva, wreathed with flowers, and strewn over with grains of rice and wheat. Images in metal or stone of the sacred
bull are plentiful everywhere; and living bulls wander about freely, the object of special care and adoration. They are free to stray where they will, not in the temple precincts only, but also in the streets.
Among the other buildings, the one most worthy of notice is the Mosque of Aurengzebe, famous on account of its two minarets, which are 150 feet in height, and reported to be the slenderest in the world. They resemble a couple of needles, and certainly better deserve the name than that of Cleopatra at Alexandria. Narrow winding staircases in the interior lead to the summit, on which a small platform, with a balustrade about a foot high, is erected. From this vantage-point a noble view of the city, it is said, may be obtained; but few persons, we should think, have heads cool enough to enjoy it. With all Madame Pfeiffer’s adventurousness, she did not essay this perilous experiment.
The Observatory, constructed for the great Mohammedan emperor Akbar, is also an object of interest. It is not furnished, like a European observatory, with the usual astronomical instruments, telescopes, rain-gauges, anemometers, and the like, the
handiwork of cunning artificers in glass and metal; but everything is of stone—solid, durable stone. On a raised terrace stand circular tables, semicircular and quadratic curves, all of stone, and all inscribed with mystic signs and characters.
Benares is celebrated for its bazaars, in which are exhibited some of the rarest productions of the East; but its principal attraction is its sanctity, and crowds of pilgrims resort to its temples, and cleanse themselves of their sins by bathing in the fast-flowing Ganges. To die at Benares is regarded as a passport to heaven; and one of the most frequent sights is the burning of a corpse on the river-bank, with ceremonies proportioned to the rank and wealth of the deceased—the ashes being afterwards committed to the holy waters. Benares is also famous for its palaces. Of these the most splendid is that which the rajah inhabits. It was visited by Madame Pfeiffer, who appears to have gone everywhere and seen everybody at her own sweet will and pleasure, and she was even admitted to the rajah’s presence.