Tuesday 16. In the train. Dearest Mother. If I could tell you, if only I could tell you, all that we have been doing and seeing in this fairytale country! We have been here 4 days and we seem to have had 4 lifetimes of new experiences, each more wonderful than the last. We have become almost unrecognisably Indian, wear pith helmets with a jaunty air - and oh! my Hindustani is remarkably fluent! We no longer turn a hair when we see a cow trotting along in front of a dogcart and we scarcely hold our heads an inch higher when we are addressed as "Your Highness." (Muhammad varies between Your Highness and Master.) Well - on {Friday} Sat. morning, I ran round and arranged plans while H. [Hugo] wrote letters at the Yacht Club till 12; then I took a cab, drove all through the Native Quarter, which consists of big wooden houses with a row of teak pillars in front, peopled by every Oriental nationality and creed and filled with aromatic smells, and called on a Persian to whom my Haifa friends had given me letters, a Babi. I found him asleep on his verandah (he keeps a printing press) woke him up and had a long conversation with him in Persian. He regarded me with suspicion but treated me with the utmost consideration. I asked him to sell me some Babi books, but he wriggled out of it politely, so I turned to indifferent subjects and had an amusing talk about the plague and things of that kind. He says there are Babis at Delhi and Lahore; I shall try to see them there. After lunch H. and I spent an hour over the Railway Guide. It is perhaps the best jest book ever known. All the trains leave everywhere between 3 and 4 AM and arrive between 1 and 2 AM. You can do no journey of any sort under 23 hours and we doubt if we shall be able to get from Lucknow to Delhi in 48 hours. This done, we drove out along the shore to Malabar Hill to leave a note on the Governor, accepting an invitation to lunch on Sunday. It was near sunset when we got there, the whole sky red from west to east and the moon a great shining disk in the middle of Heaven, Malabar Hill outlined against the glow, and, across the bay, the domes and spires of the city like Venetian palaces under the moon. By the edge of the sea was a long row of twinkling lights, fish sellers we found them to be when we passed. On our way back we passed the entrance of a temple and, in the end of the light, walked down to look at it. A troop of naked children surrounded us instantly and, howling continuously, accompanied us down the long crooked flight of steps which is the street. They led us to a great square tank, red in the sunset glow, and set round with temple spires shaped like ears of Indian corn. A naked fakìr, the castmark spashed in yellow ochre on his forehead, was stepping down into the water. The children stood round us and clapped their hands in approval or in scorn, we don't know which, but we took some pleasure in leading them back to our carriage and driving off without giving them a halfpenny. As we drove along the Marine Lines the coachman suddenly stopped and pointing to a place brilliantly lighted said "Parsee Church." We got out and before we could wink 2 elderly Parsees rushed forward, seized us by the hands and cried "De ceremony is begun!" hurried us through a dense crowd of people, 2 bands and an immense courtyard set with tables from end to end. We hadn't an idea what de ceremony was, but we followed obediently - indeed we could do nothing else - into a room all lighted up and densely packed with people sitting in rows and fanning themselves with palmleaf fans who pushed us on until we subsided in front seats and found that we were wedding guests. The bride and bridegroom were sitting in a square enclosure surrounded by a trellis of jasmine flowers strung on silver threads, a group of white robed women stood behind them and fanned them and 2 priests stood in front and recited endless prayers, throwing a grain of rice at them at the end of each phrase. The bridegroom had a chaplet of flowers round his neck - on his lap a large shawl a cocoanut and a bouquet. I turned to a neighbouring Parsee and discovered that the first part was over and we had come in for the blessing. He also told me that the blessing would last an hour more so after we had sat there for 20 minutes or so, I made elaborate apologies all round, how much we had enjoyed ourselves, how deeply we regretted that a previous engagement prevented our staying till the end, and we bowed ourselves out. The first part of the ceremony consists in putting the bride and bridegroom on either side of a sheet, beneath which they are bound together by ropes of new linen, each is given a handful of rice and the one who throws it over the sheet first, rules in the house ever after. The bridegroom had won this time. Then all the relatives respectively mark each others foreheads with circles of ochre and then the prayers begin, everyone talking at the top of their voices all the time. The bridegroom was a stationmaster, his father a solicitor in Bombay. I asked whether the wedding would not cost a great deal "Aoh yes!" said my friend "De expenses will amount to 3 or 400£." We walked out into the courtyard and up between the long lines of tables at which people were sitting and eating indescribable things off green paper plates. We hadn't got very far before a perspiring Parsee caught us and insisted on our drinking the bride's health in port. I made an appropriate speech in Babu English and we drained our glasses! Hugo then inquired how long the wedding would go on. "Until de finish" our friend replied luminously and turning to me explained that at midnight the whole ceremony had to be gone through again, "Jest to tie de nuptial knot" he added. We think there will be no danger of the knot coming undone! We proceeded on our way round the court and at the other end were waylaid by another heated gentleman who said "You are de bridegroom's guests" and on our making no protests poured out bumpers of champagne in which he invited us to drink the bridegroom's health. I felt I really could not drink any more healths after that, so we shook hands with some 20 Parsees, thanked them all effusively and fled. It was the most amusing wedding I ever went to. We dined at the Yacht Club and met many of our travelling companions. You will certainly hear more of a delightful old woman called Miss Thornwill, who with (I think) her sister, Lady Boughie and her nephew Mr Fletcher are in our camp. Mr F. is a great athlete. Hugo knew him, and a very charming person. We talked to them and to the Gascoynes, sitting on the lawn by the sea. What Bombay harbour is like under a full moon, I could tell you in 6 foolscap pages. But I won't. On Sunday morning we were up with the lark and left by launch for Elephanta at 8.30. We steamed across the harbour for near 2 hours till we arrived at a little green island on which we landed and where we were greeted by a crowd of natives anxious to sell us green and red and gold beetles which they kept in match boxes. We walked up a flight of stone steps under trees to the top of the hill, turned a corner and found ourselves in front of the great Hindu cave. It is a low hall cut out of the solid rock, the roof - which is the top of the hill - supported by short thick columns, square Bellow, round and fluted above, crowned with heavy fluted capitals, rows and rows of them. The light comes in from the entrance and from 2 small courts at either side which lead to little side caves. Round the big cave are huge panels of bas reliefs representing Shiwa and his wife Parwati in various scenes and characters. In the middle of the back wall, in very high relief is cut a 3 headed bust, Shiwa the Creator, the Destroyer and the Preserver. Solemn, expressionless, strait and heavy featured, the mighty and terrible Lord of birth and death. A shrine on the right contains the Linga stone which is his emblem. We got back to Bombay at 12.30 just in time to jump into our smartest clothes and drive off to Govt. House. There we found the Dartreys, the Pembrokes, the Majoribanks (all travelling companions) Mr Schuster and a lot of Secretaries and Aide de Camps, one of whom, Captain Cartwright, Hugo made rather friends with. Presently we all made a circle and their Excellencies walked in. We courtseyed [sic] when we were introduced to them. Lord Northcote went in to lunch first and an aide de camp whispered to me to go and sit by him. I had Mr Majoribanks on the other side. It was most agreeable. Lord Northcote is a charming little ugly man, delightful to talk to and she is even more charming. They were both extremely friendly. We had an excellent lunch, not too long, after which I talked to Lady Northcote and was shown the house by Lady Dartrey. It's enchanting, mostly deep verandah looking over the bay to Bombay on one side and over the sea on the other. Still we think it's as well that Father is not governor for Lord Northcote when I told him we had ants and mice in our hotel rooms, replied gravely "Lady Northcote found a rat on her pillow last night," and Mrs Majoribanks confided to Hugo that she kept a bat and a toad! (She is a daughter of Mr Broderick's, you know.) I will only add that Lord Dartrey loves me - he is just the kind of good old thing that always falls a victim to me. We went to tea with the Oliviers. He has a most beautiful collection of china which he showed me, and he is a perfect dear besides. She also is very nice. They are going to be at Delhi and Colonel O. and I have planned great expeditions into Old Delhi while other people are watching football matches. We got back just in time to dine at 6.30, scrambled into travelling clothes and set off at 8.30 for Ellora. (The railway station is Italian Gothic, the Cathedral Byzantine, they face one another and unless you knew the above distinction you could not be certain where to take your ticket and where to say your prayers.) We were much excited at making our first Indian journey. Though the trains are slow, they are luxuriously comfortable. Each wagon is divided into 2 parts, each of which contains a possible 4 beds and they mayn't put more than 4 people in by night. We had a compartment quite to ourselves, Muhammad made up our beds - you carry your own bedding - and we travelled peacefully (without sleeping much, it was too hot) to Munmar Junction where we arrived at 2.20 AM. Here we had to wait till 7. We made up our beds in the waiting room and I had an excellent night, but Hugo was less fortunate for people came in and out of his waiting room and made a noise. I might have had a bath but I didn't wake up in time - there are bath rooms at every waiting room. We had some breakfast at a quarter to 7 and set off to Daulatabad where we arrived at 10.30 and found an excellent lunch ready for us. We lodged in the Rest House at the station, an enchanting place, a little bungalow of 2 rooms, each with a bath room and a dining room between, the whole surrounded by a deep verandah. You pay a rupee a head a night and bring your own bedding. We had ordered a tonga to take us to Ellora and found it waiting for us. We left Muhammad to look after our things - my Hindustani is quite enough to carry us through without an interpreter, it's really most convenient. We drove first through the ruins of Daulatabad - it is a great walled town, entirely deserted and ruined, a few mud huts outside hold the present population. It was Aurungzib's southern most capital when he stretched the Mogul empire right down into the Deccan and ruined all by grasping at all. The wonderful part of it is the fort which stands on the top of a round hill a thousand feet high or more, the bottom of which has been cut away so as to form a {steep} perpendicular wall of rock for the first 100 ft. Aurungzib found it so and made it quite impregnable. We drove on up a steep hill and then along the top and through another almost deserted town of palaces and temples, battlemented round, Roza [Khuldabad (Rauza)] is its name and it contains Aurungzib's tomb. Then down the hill on the other side and at the foot we came to the caves we had gone to see, a mile and a quarter of them, Buddhist Hindu and Jain. So we took a guide and walked through hall after columned hall and gallery after carved gallery, first between endless rows of Buddhas all deserted for Buddhism no longer exists in India, then past wall after wall carved with Hindu gods, Shiwa destroying, Shiwa creating, Shiwa and angels, Shiwa and demons, masses of figures thrown into exaggerated action, tossing countless pairs of arms over their heads, dancing with frantic energy, and everwhere the Linga shrine with a chaplet of flowers before it and bowls of water. Then a long walk in the sun to the Jain Caves which are the best of all, every inch of wall, capital and column covered with delicate carving and all connected together by passages and flights of stairs cut deep under the hill. Everywhere the hill side was covered with flowering tropical shrubs, scarlet and purple and white and yellow and the air full of the scent of them. The most incredible of the carvings is a whole enormous temple, cut out of the solid rock and standing free from it. It's entirely covered with carving, contains endless courts and sanctuaries, 3 stories [sic] of great pillared halls, spires and domes and towers, tutto d'un pezzo as our Italian custodes delighted to point out. The wall of rock from which it was cut surrounds it on 3 sides and is itself carved into elaborate galleries and in the courtyard are 2 lifesize elephants and 2 free standing towers all a part of the mountain itself. It was hot while we were seeing these things, but we had brought some soda water and biscuits with us so we had a light refection in the afternoon. We walked up the hill, and drove back to Roza where we went to see Aurungzib's tomb. We passed through a domed gate built by a famous courtizan with an exquisite marble court and from thence into another smaller court where behind a screen of openwork marble the great Mogul is buried. Having committed every possible villany on earth, he tries to impose upon posterity by a tomb of the most austere simplicity - nothing but a slab of marble with a great tree shadowing it. Near him is the elaborate marble tomb of a famous saint and a second lies buried across the road, and so he rests in the Odour of Sanctity. (We have just got off the Nizam's line onto the Calcutta mainline and it's so shaky I can only write at the stations. We drove back in the wonderful sunset, got to our bungalow at 6, had an excellent dinner - chicken soup, chicken ragout, a roast chicken! Most delicious - sat in our verandah watching the moon rise, had baths and went to bed. Muhammad was very sorry for himself for he is a Shiah Muhammadan of the strictest and this is Ramazan so he mayn't eat all day and at Daulatabad he could find no one sufficiently unimpeachable in Islam to buy food from, so he had nothing but a little milk! Of course he cdn't eat our food as it was cooked by Christians or Hindus. Perhaps hunger was the reason he did not call us this morning, Monday. At 5.15 Hugo fortunately woke and came and woke me with the news that the train went in half an hour. So we bustled up, fortunately our packing was of little importance and Muhammad did it. We found tea and eggs ready for us which we eat and telegraphed to Munmar for breakfast when we arrived. Now Breakfast surprises in himself lunch and tea and consists of fish, 2 courses of meat, curry, fruit, jam toast and tea. We eat it all!

Friday. [19 December 1902] I meant to write more but I've had no time. However H. [Hugo] has written to Elsa.