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In Benares, all interest to a traveller centres round the native portion of the city. In Cawnpore, the native town is forgotten in the interest that gathers round the cantonment. In Lucknow, there is an interest of both kinds : one in the remains of buildings which were the scenes of some of the most remarkable episodes of the Mutiny,' one in the old native buildings which might give to this city, much more rightly than to Calcutta, the title of The City of Palaces.'

Let us go first to the Residency; it is only half a mile from the hotel-once a palace of the King of Oude's minister--in which we are staying. A few acres of earth, earthwork and buildings; a piece of rising ground, overlooking the river Goomtee and the best part of the city of Lucknow, and covered with the remains of a few bungalows in which formerly lived some of the leading English civilians stationed at Lucknow : such is the ‘Residency' which, since the eventful year of the Mutiny, has given such an undying interest to Lucknow, at least in the eyes of Englishmen.

Passing through the ‘Bailey Guard Gate'- round which the fight raged so often and so fiercely in the months of July, August, and September, in that terrible year-we find ourselves among ruins which evidently have become such by the sudden defacement of war, not by the slow decay of time. Every outer wall is pitted with bulletmarks, as numerous as rain-drops in a heavy shower, leaving scarcely a single unmarked space that might not be covered by the palm of one's hand; while the larger holes, the shattered columns, the roofless rooms, tell where the round shot and shell held their deadly course.

On each building there are some short but telling inscriptions, such as: “The Tyekhana (cellar) occupied by the Women and Children during the Siege ;' The Banqueting Hall, used as a Hospital;' 'Innis' House;', The Cawnpore

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THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN.-LUCKNOW.

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Battery,' and others, marking the various important points of the defences. Some are much sadder : in one room we read “Here Sir H. Lawrence was struck by a shell ;' in another, ‘Here Sir H. Lawrence died.'

Near the highest point of ground within the Residency Enclosure is an obelisk of granite to the memory of that gallant soldier and Christian gentleman to whom reference has just been made. Within the churchyard, which is also included in the Enclosure, is the plain slab which covers his remains, bearing the well-known inscription, placed there by his own wish : ‘Here lies Sir Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty. May the Lord have mercy on his soul!' Such was the manly modesty of one who was only conscious of having tried to do his duty; while all who knew him knew that he did it only too well.

Here, too, is the townb of General Neill, with those of many officers and men of his regiment; of Captain Fulton; and of many other brave officers who‘yet attained not unto the first three.' More convincing proof than even the bullet-marks and the shot-holes, of the fierce fire to which, up to the first relief alone, the Lucknow garrison were exposed, is this churchyard, so densely crowded with 'turf in many a mouldering heap,' and with tombstones to women and children, as well as to men and soldiers. Slabs there are not a few to English wives whose years had not reached twenty-five, and to children whose age is, oftener than not, counted by months.

In this plot of ground were buried, during the three months of the first siege, no fewer than 400 of a garrison which had numbered not 1,400; afterwards, 600 more, who died in accomplishing the two reliefs, the first under Havelock and Outram, the second under Sir Colin Campbell, were laid side by side with those who had fallen within the ramparts. And there are slabs which tell of the deadly effect of the subsequent campaigns, giving the number of men lost from single regiments by the enemy's bullets, by cholera, and by sunstroke, during the suppression of the mutiny: 370 in one case, 360 in another, 260 in a third.

Such is the record of bravery, of suffering, of death, on these simple slabs ; such the catalogue of those whose best monuments are the ruins around them—the scene of their unflinching gallantry or their patient suffering.

Let us cross over the river from the Residency by the brick bridge which has replaced the old bridge of boats, and drive to the Badshah Bagh, a large enclosed garden, with an old palace in it, from the top of which we can have a fine view of the city. The palace is now unoccupied; when there was still a King of Oude, it belonged to one of his ministers; but when the Feringhee took possession, the former tenants were ejected.

Mounting to its flat roof, we look across the river, which is only a quarter of a mile away, on to the imposing mass of palaces which are clustered on the other side. There is the Chutta Munzil, the Fuhreed Buksh, the Kaiser Bagh, the Begum Kotee, and a number of smaller buildings, handsome in outline, and bright and clean in colour. True, they are only of brick and plaster, yet the first effect is not the less striking on that account; their unsubstantial character does not offend one's eye till after looking at them for some little time. Though they look much the same as they must have done fifteen years ago, they no longer contain the magnificence and luxury of an oriental court. Some of them have been put to strangely different uses from those for which they were originally designed. The Begum Kothee, the palace at whose storming Major Hodson at last lost his oft-risked life, is now a post-office; and not far off is what was once a Moslem mausoleum, but is now a bank! When “Russian aggression’ has finally succeeded, from

THE PALACES OF LUCKNOW.

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Cashmere to the Sunderbunds, will the Czar turn to similar uses the Government House and Cathedral of Calcutta ? Alas for the feelings of the Anglo-Indian of the twentieth century who will have to look upon such a desecration !

But we are forgetting the scene before us. To the left of the mass of palaces already mentioned we can see little but an irregular expanse of roofs and pinnacles, merging into an apparently thick and extensive wood, above which, in the distance, we can distinguish the tops of the Shah Nujjeef, the Secunder Bagh, the Dilkhoosha, and the Martinière.

To the right, and scarcely a mile from where we stand, are the buildings of the Residency, hiding from our view the dense portion of the native city; still farther to the right are the pinnacles and lofty walls of the two Imambarras, with the minars and dome of the Jumma Musjid.

Let us drive up the river to the Inn Bridge, cross, and go on to these somewhat famous buildings. The Great Imambarra is the first in our way. It consists of a very large quadrangle entered by a lofty gateway, opposite to which is a handsome flight of steps leading up to the Great Hall, which forms one of the sides of the square. The style of architecture is imposing and massive rather than beautiful; and, as with all the buildings of Lucknow, the material is brick and plaster. The Great Hall is, in extent at least, a magnificent room; its dimensions are 165 ft. in length, 53 ft. in width, and 49 ft. in height. But the walls and ceiling are neither painted nor carved ; and it was either never finished and decorated, or has suffered much from mutilation. It is now used by the Indian Government as an armoury, and is chiefly filled with the great ship guns with which Captain Peel, of the Shannon,' did such good service during the advance of Sir Colin Campbell on Lucknow, especially at the storming of the Secunder Bagh and the Shah Nujjeef.

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Passing out again from the Great Imambarra, we have not far to go to the Hoseinabad Imambarra. This, like its neighbour, is of brick and plaster; but its architecture is of a more fantastic kind, and it is hideously painted. The quadrangle is filled with a strange mixture of handsome trees and flowers, with grotesque casts of animals and men; the hall, which occupies the ground floor of the main building, is crowded with glass chandeliers, English and French clocks (none of which are going), gaudy glass balls, and tinsel ornaments, mixed up with massive silver shrines canopied with rich embroidery ; altogether a most curious jumble, as if the monarch who had designed it had taken the idea from an English twopenny peep-show, but had carried it out on a scale of oriental profuseness. It is in this building that the great Mohurrum festival is celebrated by the Mahomedans of Lucknow at its appointed

The strange mixture which then takes place of quasi-religious enthusiasm with heathenish revelry, viewed in this gaudy quadrangle, under the light of countless lanterns, must be a curious sight to a foreigner.

As we are so near the Jumma Musjid, we may as well go up its broad flight of steps, look in at the interior of the mosque, and then wind up one of the tall minars at its corners. From the top we overlook the whole of the city, and far into the green and well-wooded plain on all sides; and from here we get perhaps the best idea of the immense size of the city, with its densely-crowded native quarters, and its population of over 300,000.

On our way back to our hotel we pass through the Bazaar, or Chowk, as it is here called. It is narrower and more thoroughly native-looking than the one we shall see at Delhi; and in respect of cleanliness, or rather dirtiness, ranks between that and the one at Cawnpore, the lastnamed possessing an odour truly Oriental. It contains

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