Part 4

From the Samman Burj we step into the next set of apartments of the zanana, connecting with the Khas Mahal and a similar set on the other side. This part of the zanana forms the east, or river side, of the Anguri Bagh, or Grape Garden. There is an indescribable grace and charm about all this quarter of the palace, to which the beauty of the material, the perfect taste of the ornament and elegance of the proportions, the delightful background of the landscape, and the historical associations all contribute. It should be seen towards evening, not in the full glare of the morning sun.

When the afterglow fills the sky, burnishes the gilded roofs, and turns the marble to rose-colour, imagination may re-people these lovely pavilions with fair Indian women--revel in the feast of colour in _saris_, brocades, and carpets; in the gold, azure, and crimson of the painted ceilings; and listen to the water splashing in the fountains and gurgling over the carved water-shoots--a scene of voluptuous beauty such as the world has rarely known since the wealth and elegance of Rome filled the palaces and villas of Pompei.

In the walls of the Khas Mahal are a number of niches which formerly contained portraits of the Mogul Emperors, beginning with Timur, which, like so many other things, were looted by the Rajah of Bharatpur. A number of similar portraits and other fine paintings of the Mogul period are preserved in the Government Art Gallery, Calcutta.

A Persian poem inscribed on the walls of the Khas Mahal gives the date of its construction, 1636.

THE UNDERGROUND CHAMBERS.--A staircase to the south of the Khas Mahal leads to a labyrinth of underground chambers, in which the Emperor and his zanana found refuge from the fierce summer heat of Agra. In the south-east corner there is a well-house, called a _bâoli_; this is a set of chambers surrounding a well--a favourite retreat in the hot weather. There were formerly many of the kind round about Agra, constructed by the Mogul Emperors or their nobles. Besides these resorts of ease and pleasure, there are gloomy dungeons which tell of misbehaving slaves and indiscreet sultanas, who were hurried down to meet their fate at the hands of the executioner, the silent Jumna receiving their lifeless bodies.

The Anguri Bagh.

The great quadrangle in front of the Khas Mahal is the Anguri Bagh, surrounded on three sides by arcades, probably built by Akbar and intended for his zenana. They were occupied in the Mutiny days by the British officers and their families who were shut up in the Fort.

The Anguri Bagh is a very typical specimen of the old Mogul gardens, laid out in geometrical flower-beds, with four terraced walks radiating from the central platform and fountain. A stone trellis formerly enclosed the flower-beds, and probably supported the vines which gave the garden its name.

Among the many improvements lately made by Lord Curzon in the Fort is the clearance of the wire-netting fernhouses and bedraggled shrubs which formerly disfigured the quadrangle. If it cannot be kept up in the old Mogul style, it is certainly better to leave the garden uncultivated.

SHISH MAHAL.--On the north side of the Anguri Bagh, close to the zanana, a passage leads to the _Shish Mahal_, or "palace of glass." This was the bath of the zanana. The marble slabs of the floor have been torn up, and the decoration with a kind of glass mosaic seems to have suffered from clumsy attempts at renovation. A passage from the Shish Mahal leads to the old water gate.

THE "SOMNATH" GATES.--Before entering the Jahangiri Mahal, on the opposite side of the Anguri Bagh, we will pause at a corner of the zanana courtyard, where a small apartment contains an interesting relic of the Afghan expedition of 1842--the so-called "Somnath" gates, taken from the tomb of Mahmud of Ghazni in the capture of that city by the British. They were the subject of a most extraordinary archæological blunder by the Governor-General, Lord Ellenborough, who, in a grandiloquent proclamation, identifying them with the gates of carved sandalwood which Mahmud according to tradition, had taken from the celebrated Hindu temple of Somnath in 1025, announced to the people of India that "the insult of eight hundred years had been avenged." The gates were conveyed on a triumphal car through the towns of northern India to the Agra Fort, and deposited there with great ceremony. As a matter of fact, the wood is deodar, and not sandalwood, and from the style of the ornament there can be hardly a doubt that the gates were made at or near Ghazni. One glance would convince any expert in Oriental archæology that they could not by any possibility have been the gates of a Hindu temple.

It has been supposed that the original gates were destroyed by fire, and that these were made to replace them, but there seems to be considerable doubt whether Mahmud really took away any gates from the Somnath temple. It certainly would have been unusual for the great Muhammadan plunderer to have burdened himself with an archæological relic which, in those days, was not easily convertible into cash.

A horse-shoe which is nailed to the gate is not, as is generally supposed, a propitiation of the Goddess of Fortune, but a token from the owner of some sick animal that he would bring an offering to the shrine in the event of a cure resulting from his visit. This was an old custom among the Tartars and other nomad tribes, who valued horses and cattle as their most precious possessions.

The Jahangiri Mahal.

The palace called after Jahangir, the Jahangiri Mahal, is in many respects the most remarkable building of its class in India. Nothing could be more striking than the contrast between the extreme elegance, bordering on effeminacy, of the marble pavilions of Shah Jahan's palaces, and the robust, virile, yet highly imaginative architecture of this palace of Akbar; for though it bears Jahangir's name there cannot be much doubt that it was planned, and partially, if not completely, carried out by Akbar with the same architects who built Fatehpur Sikri. It is the perfected type of the style which we see in process of evolution at Fatehpur, and were it not for the Taj, we might regret the new element which came into Mogul architecture with Itmâd-ud-daulah's tomb. Both of these styles, which appear side by side in the Agra Fort, are intensely typical of the men and the times which produced them. The one is stamped throughout with the personality of Akbar, the empire-builder, and distinguished by the stately solidity of Jain and Hindu architecture. In the other the native vigour of the earlier Indian styles has been softened by the cultured eclecticism of Persia and Arabia, for the manly dignity of Akbar's court had given place to the sensual luxury of Shah Jahan's.

On the river side of the palace there is an octagonal pavilion placed similarly to the Samman Burj, which is very charming in its fresco decoration, though the colour has faded very much. It is possibly this pavilion to which Badâyunî, one of Akbar's biographers, refers when he describes a Brahmin, named Dêbi, being pulled up the walls of the castle, sitting on a _charpâî_ (a native bed), till he arrived near the balcony where the Emperor used to sleep. "Whilst thus suspended he instructed his Majesty in the secrets and legends of Hinduism, in the manner of worshipping idols, the fire, the sun, and stars, and of revering the chief gods of these unbelievers." The priests of other religions were similarly carried up to converse with Akbar.

Adjoining this is a set of small rooms, known as Akbar's apartments, which, even in their present dilapidated state, show that they must have possessed a richness and beauty of decoration inferior to nothing else in the whole Fort. The dados were decorated with _gesso_ work on a gold ground. The borders are still almost intact, but the rest of the relief ornament seems to have been wantonly hacked off out of pure mischief. I believe this is the only example of _gesso_ work in any of Akbar's buildings. The treatment of the upper part of the walls with the characteristic cuspings of Arabian and Moorish architects is admirable.

Passing through these, we enter a long room known as the library, in which a not very successful attempt was made some years ago to restore the painted decoration. It is to be devoutly hoped that this and other dangerous experiments of the kind will not be continued, except under skilled artistic supervision. The restoration of the structural parts of the palace and of the stone carving is a more easy matter, for the descendants of the very men who built and carved the palace still practise their art in Agra and round about. This has been admirably carried out by the Public Works Department under Lord Curzon's orders.

The outer courtyard, on the riverside, is very interesting, especially for a very elegant and original porch, in which Saracenic feeling predominates; but on entering the inner courtyard (Plate VI.) it is more easy to realize that this Palace is one of the great masterpieces of Mogul architecture. The beauty of this inner quadrangle is derived not so much from its fine proportions and rich ornamentation as from the wonderful rhythmic play of light and shadow, produced by the bracket form of construction and the admirable disposition of the openings for doors, windows, and colonnades. The north side of the quadrangle is formed by a pillared hall, of distinctly Hindu design, full of the feeling of mystery characteristic of indigenous Indian styles. The subdued light of the interior adds to the impressiveness of its great piers stretching their giant brackets up to the roof like the gnarled and twisted branches of primeval forest trees. A very interesting point of view can be obtained from the gallery which runs round the upper part of the hall.

One of Jahangir's wives, a Hindu princess of Jodhpur, hence known as Jodh Bai, lived in this part of the palace, and the room on the west side of the quadrangle, surrounded by a number of oblong niches, is said to have been her temple, in which the images of Hanuman and other Hindu deities were kept.

On the roof of the Jahangiri Mahal there are two fine pavilions; also a number of cisterns, which supplied the palace with water. In the side of one of them there are a number of pipe-holes, lined with copper, over each of which is a circular stone label inscribed with the part of the palace to which it gave a supply.

The Salîmgarh.

On the rising ground behind the courtyard of the Dîwan-i-âm there formerly existed a palace called the Salîmgarh. Before Jahangir's accession he was known as Prince Salîm, and tradition associates this palace with him. Fergusson, however, states that in his time an exquisite fragment of a palace built by Shere Shah, or his son Salîm, existed here. The Salîmgarh at Delhi is named after the son of Shere Shah, Salîm Shah Sur, who built it, and there is some doubt as to which of the two Salîms gave his name to the Salîmgarh at Agra. Akbar's Fort is known to have been built to replace an older one (known as the Badalgarh) by Salîm Shah Sur, but it is quite possible that a part of the palace may have been left, and retained the name of its founder.

The only part of the Salîmgarh which now remains is a large two-storied pavilion in front of the barracks. The upper half of the exterior is carved with extraordinary richness. The style of design certainly indicates the period of the Jahangiri Mahal and Akbar's buildings at Fatehpur Sikri, rather than Shere Shah's work.

The Jâmi Masjid.

Nearly opposite to the Delhi Gate of the Fort is the Jâmi Masjid, or Cathedral Mosque, built by Jahanara, Shah Jahan's eldest daughter. It is in the same style as the splendid mosque built by Shah Jahan at Delhi, but far inferior in merit. There is a tameness about the whole design very unusual in the buildings of this epoch. The zig-zag striping of the domes is decidedly unpleasant.

An inscription over the main archway states that it was completed in the year 1644 A.D. a cost of five lakhs of rupees.

The Taj

Arjumand Banu Begam the favourite wife of Shah Jahan, is better known by her other name, Mumtaz Mahal ("the Crown of the Palace"). Her father was Asaf Khan, who was brother of the Empress Nur Mahal, Jahangir's wife. She was thus the granddaughter of Itmâd-ud-daulah, Jahangir's Prime Minister, whose tomb, on the opposite bank of the river, will be described hereafter.

In 1612, at the age of nineteen years she was married to Shah Jahan--then Prince Khurram--who, though hardly twenty-one, had already another wife. This second marriage, however, was a real love-match, and Mumtaz was her husband's inseparable companion on all his journeys and military expeditions. Shah Jahan, like his father, allowed his wife a large share in the responsibilities of government. Like Nur Mahal, she was famed as much for her charity as for her beauty. Her influence was especially exercised in obtaining clemency for criminals condemned to death. She bore him fourteen children, and died in childbed in 1630, or the second year after Shah Jahan's accession to the throne, at Burhanpur, whither she had accompanied her husband on a campaign against Khan Jahan Lodi. The Emperor was overpowered with grief. For a week he refused to see any of his ministers, or to transact any business of state. He even contemplated resigning the throne and dividing the empire among his sons. For two years the court observed strict mourning. No music or festivities were allowed; the wearing of jewels, the use of perfumes and luxuries of all kinds were forbidden. The month of Zikad, in which she died, was observed as a month of mourning for many years afterwards. The body of Mumtaz was removed to Agra, and remained temporarily in the garden of the Taj while the foundations of the building were being laid. It was then placed in the vault where it now lies. A temporary dome covered the tomb while the great monument grew up over it.

The building of the Taj.

It was one of those intervals in history when the whole genius of a people is concentrated on great architectural works, and art becomes an epitome of the age. For the Taj was not a creation of a single master-mind, but the consummation of a great art epoch. Since the time of Akbar the best architects, artists, and art workmen of India, Persia, Arabia, and Central Asia had been attracted to the Mogul court. All the resources of a great empire were at their disposal, for Shah Jahan desired that this monument of his grief should be one of the wonders of the world. The sad circumstances which attended the early death of the devoted wife who had endeared herself to the people might well inspire all his subjects to join in the Emperor's pious intentions.

According to the old Tartar custom, a garden was chosen as a site for the tomb--a garden planted with flowers and flowering shrubs, the emblems of life, and solemn cypress, the emblem of death and eternity. Such a garden, in the Mogul days, was kept up as a pleasure-ground during the owner's lifetime, and used as his last resting-place after his death. The old tradition laid down that it must be acquired by fair means, and not by force or fraud. So Rajah Jey Singh, to whom the garden belonged, was compensated by the gift of another property from the Emperor's private estate. Shah Jahan next appointed a council of the best architects of his empire for preparing the design for the building. Drawings of many of the most celebrated buildings of the world were shown and discussed. It is even believed that one Geronimo Verroneo, an Italian who was then in the Mogul service, submitted designs for Shah Jahan's inspection, a fact which has led many writers into the error of supposing that the Taj, as completed, was actually designed by him. [8] The design eventually accepted was by Ustad Isa, who is stated in one account to have been a Byzantine Turk, and in another a native of Shiraz, in Persia.

The master-builders came from many different parts; the chief masons from Baghdad, Delhi, and Multan; the dome builders from Asiatic Turkey and from Samarkand; the mosaic workers from Kanauj and from Baghdad; the principal calligraphist for the inscriptions from Shiraz. Every part of India and Central Asia contributed the materials; Jaipur, the marble; Fatehpur Sikri, the red sandstone; the Panjab, jasper; China, the jade and crystal; Tibet, turquoises; Ceylon, lapis lazuli and sapphires; Arabia, coral and cornelian; Panna in Bundelkund, diamonds; Persia, onyx and amethyst. Twenty thousand men were employed in the construction, which took seventeen years to complete. [9] The sarcophagus was originally enclosed by a fence or screen of gold studded with gems. This was removed in 1642, and replaced by the present exquisite screen of pierced marble (Plate VII.). The Taj also possessed formerly two wonderful silver doors. Austin de Bordeaux, a French goldsmith, who was employed by Shah Jahan in making the celebrated Peacock throne, may possibly have executed some of this metal-work in the Taj; but there is no evidence worthy of consideration to support the common Anglo-Indian belief that he designed or superintended the _pietra dura_, or inlaid marble decoration of the building, which is entirely of the Persian school. These silver doors were looted and melted down by the Jâts in 1764.

Besides the lavish expenditure on the building, lakhs of rupees were spent in providing the richest of Persian silk carpets, golden lamps, and magnificent candlesticks. A sheet of pearls, valued at several lakhs, was made to cover the sarcophagus. This was carried off by the Amir Husein Ali Khan, in 1720, as part of his share of the spoil of Agra. The total expenditure, according to native accounts, amounted to nearly 185 lakhs of rupees.

It is said that Shah Jahan had intended to construct a mausoleum for himself opposite to the Taj, on the other side of the Jumna and to connect the two by a great bridge. The project was interrupted and never completed, owing to the usurpation of Aurangzîb, shortly after the foundations were laid.

The Intention of the Taj.

The Taj has been the subject of numberless critical essays, but many of them have missed the mark entirely, because the writers have not been sufficiently conversant with the spirit of Eastern artistic thought. All comparisons with the Parthenon or other classic buildings are useless. One cannot compare Homer with the Mâhabhâratâ, or Kalîdâs with Euripides. The Parthenon was a temple for Pallas Athene, an exquisite casket to contain the jewel. The Taj is the jewel--the ideal itself. Indian architecture is in much closer affinity to the great conceptions of the Gothic builders than it is to anything of classic or Renaissance construction. The Gothic cathedral, with its sculptured arches and its spires pointing heavenwards, is a symbol, as most Eastern buildings are symbols. The Mogul artists, being prevented by the precepts of the Muhammadan religion from attempting sculpture, as understood in Europe, succeeded in investing their great architectural monuments with an extraordinary personal character. There is a wonderful personality in the dignity and greatness of Akbar's tomb; we see the scholar and the polished courtier in Itmâd-ud-daulah's. But the Taj carries this idea of personality further than had been attempted in any of the Mogul monuments; it represents in art the highest development towards individualism, the struggle against the restraints of ritualism and dogma, which Akbar initiated in religion.

Every one who has seen the Taj must have felt that there is something in it, difficult to define or analyze, which differentiates it from all other buildings in the world. Sir Edwin Arnold has struck the true note of criticism in the following lines:--

"Not Architecture! as all others are, But the proud passion of an Emperor's love Wrought into living stone, which gleams and soars With body of beauty shrining soul and thought; ... As when some face Divinely fair unveils before our eyes-- Some woman beautiful unspeakably-- And the blood quickens, and the spirit leaps, And will to worship bends the half-yielded knees, While breath forgets to breathe. So is the Taj!"

This is not a mere flight of poetic fancy, but a deep and true interpretation of the meaning of the Taj. What were the thoughts of the designers, and of Shah Jahan himself, when they resolved to raise a monument of eternal love to the Crown of the Palace--Taj Mahal? Surely not only of a mausoleum--a sepulchre fashioned after ordinary architectural canons, but of an architectonic ideal, symbolical of her womanly grace and beauty. Those critics who have objected to the effeminacy of the architecture unconsciously pay the highest tribute to the genius of the builders. The Taj was meant to be feminine. The whole conception, and every line and detail of it, express the intention of the designers. It is Mumtaz Mahal herself, radiant in her youthful beauty, who still lingers on the banks of the shining Jumna, at early morn, in the glowing midday sun, or in the silver moonlight. Or rather, we should say, it conveys a more abstract thought; it is India's noble tribute to the grace of Indian womanhood--the Venus de Milo of the East.

Bearing this in mind, we can understand how foolish it is to formulate criticisms of the Taj based on ordinary architectural principles as practised in Europe. Many of these criticisms, which might be appropriate enough if applied to a modern provincial town hall, are only silly and impertinent in reference to the Taj. Some are born tone-deaf, others colour-blind, and there are many who can find beauty in one particular form or expression of art and in no others. So the Taj will always find detractors. But whoever tries to understand the imaginative side of Eastern thought will leave the critics to themselves, and take unrestrained delight in the exquisitely subtle rhythm of this marvellous creation of Mogul art.

* * * * *

The gateway of the Taj faces a spacious quadrangle surrounded by arcades. This is a _caravan serai_, or place where travellers halted. Here, also, the poor were provided with food and shelter, and on the anniversary day vast sums were distributed in charity from the funds with which the Taj was endowed. It is well to pause before entering, and admire the proportions and perfect taste of the decoration of this gateway; for afterwards one has no eyes for anything but the Taj itself. It is much finer in design than the similar gateway of Akbar's tomb at Sikandra. An Arabic inscription in black marble, of passages taken from the Koran, frames the principal arch, and invites the pure of heart to enter the Gardens of Paradise.

The first view of the Taj is from within this noble portal, framed by the sombre shadow of the great arch which opens on to the garden. At the end of a long terrace, its gracious outline partly mirrored in the still water of a wide canal, a fairy vision of silver-white--like the spirit of purity--seems to rest so lightly, so tenderly, on the earth, as if in a moment it would soar into the sky. The beauty of the Taj, as in all great art, lies in its simplicity. One wonders that so much beauty can come from so little effort. Yet nothing is wanting, nothing in excess; one cannot alter this and that and say that it is better.