The killaah was originally a fortified castle, and is situated near the river Kaullee Nuddie,[4] a branch or arm of the Ganges, the main stream of which flows about two miles distant. During the periodical rains, the Ganges overflows its banks, and inundates the whole tract of land intervening between the two rivers, forming an extent of water more resembling a sea than a river.
At the time we occupied the old castle, scarcely one room could be called habitable; and I learned with regret after the rains of 1826 and 1827, which were unusually heavy, that the apartments occupied since the Honourable East India Company's rule by their taasseel-dhaars,[5] (sub-collectors of the revenue), were rendered entirely useless as a residence.
The comfortless interior of that well-remembered place was more than compensated by the situation. Many of my English acquaintance, who honoured me by visits at Kannoge, will, I think, agree with me, that the prospect from the killaah was indescribably grand. The Ganges and the Kaullee Nuddee were presented at one view; and at certain seasons of the year, as far as the eye could reach, their banks, and well-cultivated fields, clothed in a variety of green, seemed to recall the mind to the rivers of England, and their precious borders of grateful herbage. Turning in another direction, the eye was met by an impenetrable boundary of forest trees, magnificent in growth, and rich in foliage; at another glance, ruins of antiquity, or the still remaining tributes to saints; the detached villages; the sugar plantations; the agriculturists at their labour; the happy peasantry laden with their purchases from the bazaars; the Hindoo women and children, bearing their earthen-vessels to and from the river for supplies of water:—each in their turn formed objects of attraction from without, that more than repaid the absence of ordinary comforts in the apartment from which they were viewed. The quiet calm of this habitation, unbroken by the tumultuous sounds of a city, was so congenial to my taste, that when obliged to quit it, I felt almost as much regret as when I heard that the rains had destroyed the place which had been to me a home of peaceful enjoyment.
The city of Kannoge has evidently suffered the severities of a shock from an earthquake: the present inhabitants cannot tell at what period this occurred, but it must have been some centuries since, for the earth is grown over immense ruins, in an extensive circuit, forming a strong but coarse carpet of grass on the uneven mounds containing the long-buried mansions of the great. The rapid streams from the periodical rains forcing passages between the ruins, has in many places formed deep and frightful ravines, as well as rugged roads and pathways for the cattle and the traveller.
After each heavy fall of rain, the peasantry and children are observed minutely searching among the ruins for valuables washed out with the loose earth and bricks by the force of the streams, and, I am told, with successful returns for their toil; jewels, gold and silver ornaments, coins of gold and silver, all of great antiquity, are thus secured; these are bought by certain merchants of the city, by whom they are retailed to English travellers, who generally when on a river voyage to or from the Upper Provinces, contrive, if possible, to visit Kannoge to inspect the ruins, and purchase curiosities.
There is a stately range of buildings at no great distance from the killaah (castle), in a tolerable state of preservation, called 'Baallee Peer Kee Durgah'.[6] The entrance is by a stone gateway of very superior but ancient workmanship, and the gates of massy wood studded with iron. I observed that on the wood framework over the entrance, many a stray horseshoe has been nailed, which served to remind me of Wales, where it is so commonly seen on the doors of the peasantry.[7] I am not aware but that the same motives may have influenced the two people in common.
To the right of the entrance stands a large mosque, which, I am told, was built by Baallee himself; who, it is related, was a remarkably pious man of the Mussulmaun persuasion, and had acquired so great celebrity amongst his countrymen as a perfect durweish, as to be surnamed peer[8] (saint). The exact time when he flourished at Kannoge, I am unable to say; but judging from the style of architecture, and other concurring circumstances, it must have been built at different periods, some parts being evidently of very ancient structure.
There are two mukhburrahs,[9] within the range, which viewed from the main road, stand in a prominent situation: one of these mukhburrahs was built by command, or in the reign (I could not learn which), of Shah Allumgeer [10] over the remains of Ballee Peer; and the second contains some of the peer's immediate relatives.
From the expensive manner in which these buildings are constructed, some idea may be formed of the estimation this pious man was held in by his countrymen. The mausoleums are of stone, and elevated on a base of the same material, with broad flights of steps to ascend by. The stone must have been brought hither from a great distance, as I do not find there is a single quarry nearer than Delhi or Agra. There are people in charge of this Durgah who voluntarily exile themselves from the society of the world, in order to lead lives of strict devotion and under the imagined presiding influence of the saint's pure spirit; they keep the sanctuary from pollution, burn lamps nightly on the tomb, and subsist by the occasional contributions of the charitable visitors and their neighbours.
Within the boundary of the Durgah, I remarked a very neat stone tomb, in good preservation: this, I was told, was the burying-place of the Kalipha [11] (head servant) who had attended on and survived Baallee Peer; this man had saved money in the service of the saint, which he left to be devoted to the repairs of the Durgah; premising that his tomb should be erected near that of his sainted master, and lamps burned every night over the graves, which is faithfully performed by the people in charge of the Durgah.