Conversations.
During the spectacle, his Highness conversed with great fluency, and asked our opinions on his army and their equipments. His muskets, he said, cost him seventeen rupees each. He was particularly desirous to know if a column of British troops could advance against artillery. From these subjects he passed to that of the revenue of Cashmere; he had just got thirty-six lacs of rupees, he said, from it this year, which was an increase of six lacs. “All the people I send to Cashmere,” continued he, “turn out rascals (haramzada); there is too much pleasure and enjoyment in that country;” and when he considered the importance of the place, he believed he must send one of his sons, or go himself. This is the style of Runjeet Sing’s conversation; but his inquisitive disposition, and pertinent questions, mark the strength of his character. He found out, among our establishment, a native of India, who had been in England, whom he first interrogated in our presence, and afterwards sent for privately, to know if the wealth and power of the British nation were as great as had been represented. We left his Highness, on observing preparations for breakfast,—a meal which he usually takes in the open air, and in presence of his troops, and even sometimes on horseback. His passion for riding and performing distant journeys is great; and, on such occasions, he will take his meal on the saddle rather than dismount.
French officers.
We took up our abode in the garden-house of M. Chevalier Ventura, another French General, who was absent on the Indus with his legion. The building had been constructed in the European style; but the Chevalier has added a terrace, with ninety fountains, to cool the surrounding atmosphere. Our intercourse with the French officers was on the most friendly footing; and it continued so during our residence at Lahore. Among these gentlemen, M. Court struck me as an acute and well informed person; he is both a geographer and an antiquarian. M. Court, as well as his brother officers, was formerly in the service of one of the Persian Princes, and travelled to India as a native, which gave him an opportunity of acquiring the best information regarding the intervening countries. He showed me the route from Kermenshah, by Herat, Candahar, Ghuzni, and Cabool, to Attok, constructed topographically with great care; and he informed me, at the same time, that he had been less anxious to obtain a complete map of that part of Asia, than to ascertain one good route, with its détours, and the military and statistical resources of the country. The French have much better information of these countries than ourselves; and M. Court, in explaining his map to me, pointed out the best routes for infantry and cavalry. This gentleman has likewise employed a residence of four years in the Punjab to illustrate its geography; he has encountered jealousy from Runjeet Sing, but still managed to complete a broad belt of survey from Attok to the neighbourhood of our own frontier. I doubt not but the antiquities as well as the geography of the Punjab will be illustrated by this intelligent gentleman; who, to his honour be it said, adds to a zeal in the pursuit, the strongest desire to disseminate his own knowledge and stimulate others. The fruit of M. Court’s labours, I believe, will, ere long, be given to the public by the Geographical Society of Paris, or some other of the learned bodies in that capital.
City of Lahore.
In our evening rambles at Lahore, we had many opportunities of viewing this city. The ancient capital extended from east to west for a distance of five miles; and had an average breadth of three, as may be yet traced by the ruins. The mosques and tombs, which have been more stably built than the houses, remain in the midst of fields and cultivation as caravansaries for the traveller. The modern city occupies the western angle of the ancient capital, and is encircled by a strong wall. The houses are very lofty; and the streets, which are narrow, offensively filthy, from a gutter that passes through the centre. The bazars of Lahore do not exhibit much appearance of wealth; but the commercial influence of the Punjab is to be found at Umritsir, the modern capital. There are some public buildings within the city that deserve mention. The King’s mosque is a capacious building of red sandstone, which had been brought by Aurungzebe from near Delhi. Its four lofty minarets still stand, but the temple itself has been converted into a powder magazine. There are two other mosques, with minarets, to proclaim the falling greatness of the Mahommedan empire; where the “faithful,” as every where else in the Punjab, must offer up their prayers in silence.
Tomb of Juhangeer.
But the stranger must cross the Ravee to behold the finest ornament of Lahore—the “Shah Dura,” or tomb of the Emperor Juhangeer, which is a monument of great beauty. It is a quadrangular building, with a minaret at each corner, rising to the height of seventy feet. It is built chiefly of marble and red stone, which are alternately interlaid in all parts of the building. The sepulchre is of most chaste workmanship, with its inscriptions and ornaments arranged in beautiful mosaic; the shading of some roses and other flowers is even preserved by the different colours of the stone. Two lines of black letters, on a ground of white marble, announce the name and title of the “Conqueror of the World,” Juhangeer; and about a hundred different words in Arabic and Persian, with the single signification of God, are distributed on different parts of the sepulchre. The floor of the building is also mosaic. The tomb was formerly covered by a dome; but Bahadoor Shah threw it down, that the dew and rain of heaven might fall on the tomb of his grandfather Juhangeer. It is probable that this beautiful monument will soon be washed into the river Ravee, which is capricious in its course near Lahore, and has lately overwhelmed a portion of the garden wall that environs the tomb.
Shalimar.
The next, though by no means the least, object of interest at Lahore is the garden of Shah Jehan; the Shalimar or “house of joy.” It is a magnificent remnant of Moghul grandeur, about half a mile in length, with three successive terraces, each above the level of the other. A canal, which is brought from a great distance, intersects this beautiful garden, and throws up its water in 450 fountains to cool the atmosphere. The marble couch of the Emperor yet remains; but the garden suffered much injury before Runjeet Sing obtained his present ascendancy. The Maharaja himself has removed some of the marble houses; but he has had the good taste to replace them, though it be by more ignoble stone.