Spending the afternoon and
night in the quarters of the Third Dragoon Guards at Muttra Cantonment, I
resume my journey early in the morning, dodging from shelter to shelter
to avoid frequent heavy showers.
It is but thirty-five miles from Muttra to Agra, and notwithstanding
showers and heat, the distance is covered by half-past ten. Wheeling at
this pace, however, is an indiscretion, and the completion of the stretch
is signalized by a determination to seek shade and quiet for the
remainder of the day. Once again the sociable officers of the garrison
tender me the hospitality of their quarters, and the ensuing day is spent
in visiting that wonder of the world, the Taj Mahal, Akbar's fort, and
other wonderful monuments of the palmy days of the Mogul Empire.
Finer and more imposing in appearance even than the fort at Delhi, is
that at Agra. Walls of red sandstone, seventy feet high, and a mile and a
half in circuit, picturesquely crenellated, and with imposing gateways
and a deep, broad moat, Complete a work of stupendous dimensions. One is
overcome with a sense of grandeur upon first beholding these Indian
palace-forts, after seeing nothing more imposing than mud walls in Persia
and Afghanistan; they are magnificent looking structures.
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