The long streets are lined with bazars of the usual plan but much larger; workers in brass predominated, that being a specialty of Jeypore. There is a flourishing Art School where old forms of vases, lamps, and boxes are reproduced, the original designs being loaned from the Victoria and Albert Memorial Museum, which occupies an artistic building in the centre of spacious grounds. There one may find a rare collection of old brass, gold and silver enamel, wood carving, weaving and embroidery, all classified and arranged in historical order.
A native school, or college, greatly interested us; there were groups of boys in a number of rooms, all belonging to the best Rajput families. There are special rooms devoted to Sanskrit, English (here the boys recited a poem in unison), history, logic, philosophy, and the natural sciences.
There were a number of unpretentious Hindu temples, and the Maharaja is said to be quite punctilious in his observance of religious forms. He was absent from the city, but several brothers of his were seen driving, clad in long garments of gaudy-colored striped calico, and wearing small turbans; the dress of the women was also peculiar, the skirt being so full that as they walked they resembled balloons; they are noted for wearing a profusion of jewelry—necklaces by the half-dozen, bracelets sometimes nearly to the elbow, anklets, heavy earrings, nose-rings, and finger-rings without number.
Animals and birds in large quantities added motion and color to the street scenes, together with brightly caparisoned elephants, stately camels, and white bullocks with their long horns and dreamy eyes, drawing the little two-wheeled ekka, which sometimes carried four occupants. Peacocks flashed in and out at every turn (they are considered a sacred bird and are therefore protected), while blue-breasted pigeons came in clouds whenever there was a prospect of a feast.
There are processions of various kinds, the highest function of all being a wedding procession, where the brilliancy varies according to the amount of means that can be expended by the prospective bridegroom. In one afternoon we witnessed eight of these spectacles; the first was given by a man of wealth who was seated on an elephant, the palanquin of which was gorgeous in its decoration; he himself was richly dressed, as were the attendant friends. The procession was preceded by a band of music, and in the group were six nautch, or dancing girls; at intervals of about two blocks, the cavalcade stopped, matting was thrown down, and the dancers came and executed a slow-measured dance, which continued for about five minutes; then the procession moved on to the next point, this programme continuing until the home of the bride was reached. All of this we witnessed. The other seven wedding processions presented variations; in one the principal actor was a boy of about fourteen who looked terrified; two of the processions consisted of poor men; sometimes carriages were substituted for the elephants, and the dancing-girls were omitted, but there were always music and a crowd.
Elephants figured prominently in our trip to the old city of Amber, five miles distant, and the former capital of Rajputana. We left our carriage some distance away and were conveyed the remainder of the journey by two elephants, named Munsie and Bunsie, with gayly painted faces and trunks, furnished through the courtesy of the Maharaja. In this fashion we made our entrance.
The old city of Amber is situated below the palace, which is on the side of a mountain, with a long-stretching fort back of it; the situation, together with the gray walls of the palace and the fort, all makes a striking picture, reminding one of mediæval times; the palace is well preserved, many of the rooms are artistic, and the fine public audience chamber particularly impressed us. Here large gatherings are held in connection with ceremonial occasions at Jeypore; the Prince of Wales had been entertained here two years previous, at which time the city of Jeypore was made resplendent with a fresh coat of the rose pink preparation.
Near the entrance to the Amber Palace was an exquisite little Hindu temple, dedicated to the terrible goddess, Kali, who delights in sacrifice; this was presided over by a revolting-looking priest, and there were evident traces of the daily morning sacrifice of a goat. Once a year one hundred goats are offered up, together with other animals; formerly human beings were sacrificed to appease the goddess, but this slaughter is now prohibited by law. In a well-kept garden back of the palace there is a fine collection of tropical fruits and of unfamiliar shrubs. This ruined city of Amber must have presented a wonderful spectacle two centuries ago, before the pageants and old-time customs were transferred to its modern prototype, Jeypore.
Another afternoon's experience in Jeypore seemed even more like a scene from a comic opera—only the curtain is never lowered in this most spectacular city in India, if not in the entire world.
The pleasure of our stay in Jeypore was greatly enhanced by the intelligence of the local guide, who was of the Brahman class and broadly educated; he had an enlarged idea of the benefit to be derived from a sojourn in the New World, but he seemed uncertain with regard to securing a position in New York. One of the gentlemen suggested that he might at first seek employment as a butler, but his reply was that it would be impossible for him to engage in any menial work on account of his caste; this is a mild illustration of the domination of social lines.
A little wave of excitement was created on the morning of December 12th by a slight earthquake; we were still further shaken up by the constant presence of the persistent venders whenever we were at the hotel, who even followed us to the station the hour of our departure for Delhi, when articles were purchased by us at half their original price.
Delhi, December 13th: A greater contrast can hardly be imagined than that between barbaric, pleasure-loving Jeypore, and Delhi, a city full of old-time associations, whose triumphs of architectural skill and sculptured devices have won for it the admiration of the world.
The fort and palace, together with the adjacent mosque, called Jumma Musjid, are the chief centres of interest and the points we first visited. The two places suffered greatly during the mutiny of 1857, and the old Mogul capital has passed through so many vicissitudes that a little historical setting seems necessary.
Of the city's early history very little is known before the Mohammedan conquest, in 1193 a.d. There are, however, the ruins of two Hindu forts of the eleventh century in old Delhi (covering many miles south of Delhi), as well as the famous iron pillar of Kutub Minar, to be alluded to later. Delhi was not favored by the greatest of Mogul rulers, King Akbar, or by his son, King Jahangir; however, his grandson, Shah Jahan, built the fort in 1638, and later the palace and great mosque—hence the name, Shah Jahanabad, and in his connection with the Taj Mahal and palace at Agra, he won the title of the "Great Builder"; he also transferred the capital from Agra to Delhi.
A century later, the city was sacked by Nadir Shah, of Persia, and a general massacre occurred. Although finally defeated, he took with him many treasures, among them the priceless Peacock Throne and the valuable Kohinur diamond; the latter is now in the possession of King Edward of England.
Other changes followed, until, in 1804, British occupation was effected; but even then the descendants of the Mogul monarchs were allowed some show of royalty, until after the King's treachery and deposition at the time of the mutiny of 1857. This must be briefly alluded to, as it is truly said, "Delhi is steeped in mutiny memories!"
Various causes have been assigned for this great mutiny of the Bengal troops, but it was probably due in part to a season of unrest, some minor event precipitating the crisis. The revolt occurred on May 10th, at Meerut, forty miles distant; at first there were but