The Life of Captain Sir Richard F. Burton, volume 2 (of 2): By His Wife, Isabel BurtonBurton, Isabel, Lady
History
The Life of Captain Sir Richard F. Burton, volume 2 (of 2): By His Wife, Isabel Burton
Burton, Isabel, Lady
Burton, Richard Francis, Sir, 1821-1890; Explorers -- Great Britain -- Biography; Scholars -- Great Britain -- Biography
At the proper hour, Sundargaj rolls up to the palace where we are to
breakfast, and deposits us. Forty years ago Hyderabad, may have been a
turbulent city into which Europeans could not enter without insult or
injury, and where lawlessness and recklessness of life were the laws
of the land, but the progressive measures of an enlightened Minister
had completely changed the condition of things; still, popular and
official opinion, whose watch is always an age or two behind the time,
refused to admit the change. "You come from a place where you may
be murdered at any moment," was the address of a late Viceroy to an
Englishman who had taken service under his Highness the Nizam; and
yet, during the last thirty-five years, I am assured that not a single
European has been murdered in the Moslem dominions, and the only one
that _was_ wounded suffered the consequences of his own fault. Nothing
was done here by the enraged peasantry to the gentlemen sportsman,
who took the liberty of shooting the Prince's tame deer; yet when we
returned to Bombay, friends said to us, "Of course you had a large
escort?" We had nothing of the kind, nothing but a single _mahaut_;
but it is not easy to dispose of prejudices. Murray has said that
Hyderabad is one of the filthiest cities in India; I tell you it is
the cleanest. All I can say is that, so far from "insult and personal
injury," we were most pleasantly received by what Bevar quotes as
"the most disorderly, turbulent, and ferocious set of ruffians within
the limits of India." I can only say that of all the visits paid to
various parts of India, it is the one that has left the most lasting,
the most happy, and the most romantic impression upon our memories.
[Sidenote: _Golconda_.]
The cream of all was going to Golconda--a most interesting place,
which in 1876 no European had ever been permitted to enter, and as Sir
Salar Jung and the Nizam himself had never done so, we could not ask
or hope for such a favour. We supposed that this great event happened
when the Nizam came of age.
We dismounted and remained there for a long time, inspecting
everything outside the walls. The prevailing style of the Golconda
tomb is a dome standing upon a square; the cupola of a steeple is of
the orange shape, and is arabesqued. The finials are of silver; they
are single-storied and double-storied; some have floriated crenelles
like spear-heads, and balustraded balconies. The lower portions are
arcades of pointed arches, resting on a terrace of cut stone, ascended
by four flights of steps. The colours are white, picked out with
green; each has its little mosque flanked by minarets. We were very
sorry when it was time to leave the Tombs of the Kings. It is a high
and healthy site; the wind is strong and cold. A sanitarium would do
well there, and we wished that picnickers from the European services
would have the grace to erect a travellers' bungalow, and cease to
desecrate poor Thana Shah's tomb.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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