325. Audience Hall, Bijapur. (From a Photograph.)
The same daring system of construction was carried out by the architects of Bijapur in their civil buildings. The great Audience Hall, for instance ([Woodcut No. 325]), opens in front with an arch 82 ft. wide, which, had it been sufficiently abutted, might have been a grand architectural feature; as it is, it is too like an engineering work to be satisfactory. Its cornice was in wood, and some of its supports are still in their places. Indeed, it is one of the peculiarities of the architecture of this city that, like the English architects in their roofs, those of Bijapur clung to wood as a constructive expedient long after its use had been abandoned in other parts of India. The Ashur Moobaruk, one of the most splendid palaces in the city, is entirely open on one side, the roof being supported only by two wooden pillars with immense bracket-capitals; and the internal ornaments are in the same material. The result of this practice was the same at Bijapur as in England—far greater depth of framing and greater richness in architectural ornamentation, and an intolerance of constructive awkwardness which led to the happiest results in both countries.
Among the principal edifices in the city is one of those seven-storeyed palaces which come across us so strangely in all out-of-the-way corners of the world. Add to this that the Ashur Moobaruk has been converted by the Mahomedans into a relic-shrine to contain some hairs of the Prophet’s beard, and we have a picture of the strange difficulty of weaning a Tartar from the innate prejudices of his race.
Besides these two there are five other palaces within the walls, some of them of great splendour, and numberless residences of the nobles and attendants of the court. But perhaps the most remarkable civil edifice is a little gateway, known as the Mehturi Mehal (“the Gate of the Sweeper”)—with a legend attached to it too long to quote here. It is in a mixed Hindu and Mahomedan style, every part and every detail covered with ornament, but always equally appropriate and elegant. Of its class it is perhaps the best example in the country, though this class may not be the highest.
The gigantic walls of the city itself, 6¼ miles in circumference, are a work of no mean magnitude, and, combined with the tombs of those who built them, and with the ruins of the suburbs of this once great city, they make up a scene of grandeur in desolation, equal to anything else now to be found even in India.
Scinde.
Among the minor styles of Mahomedan art in India there is one that would be singularly interesting in a historical sense if a sufficient number of examples existed to elucidate it, and they were of sufficient antiquity to connect the style with those of the West. From its situation, almost outside India, the province of Scinde must always have had a certain affinity with Persia and the countries lying to the westward of the Indus, and if we knew its architectural history we might probably be able to trace to their source many of the forms we cannot now explain, and join the styles of the East with those of the West in a manner we cannot at present pretend to accomplish.
It is doubtful, however, whether the materials are in existence for doing this. The buildings in this province were always in brick, no stone being available; and though they are not exposed to the destructive agencies of vegetation like those of Bengal, the mortar is bad, and the bricks are easily picked out and utilised by the natives to build their huts or villages.