possession of Calcutta in 1756--confining them in
a narrow and noisome cell, which poisoned them with its malarious
atmosphere, so that by morning only a few remained alive--is now part of
a warehouse. But an obelisk stands at the entrance, inscribed with the
names of the victims.

The fashionable promenade at Calcutta is the Maidan. It runs along the
bank of the Hooghly, and is bounded on the other side by rows of palatial
mansions. It commands a good view of the Viceroy's Palace, the
Cathedral, the Ochterlony Column, the strong defensive works of Fort
William; and is altogether a very interesting and attractive spot.

Every evening, before sunset, thither wends the fashionable world of
Calcutta. The impassive European, with all the proud consciousness of a
conquering race; the half-Europeanized baboo; the deposed rajah,--all may
be seen driving to and fro in splendid equipages, drawn by handsome
steeds, and followed by servants in gay Oriental attire. The rajahs and
"nabobs" are usually dressed in gold-embroidered robes of silk, over
which are thrown the costliest Indian shawls. Ladies and gentlemen, on
English horses of the best blood, canter along the road, or its turfen
borders; while crowds of dusky natives gather in all directions, or
leisurely move homewards after their day's work. A bright feature of the
scene is the animated appearance of the Hooghly: first-class East
Indiamen are lying at anchor, ships are arriving or preparing for
departure, the native craft incessantly ply to and fro, and a Babel of
voices of different nationalities rises on the air.

Here is a picture of the Maidan, drawn by another lady-traveller, Mrs.
Murray Mitchell:--

[The Maidan, Calcutta: page95.jpg]

It is, she says, a noble expanse, which, about a hundred years ago, was a
wild swampy jungle, famous only for snipe-shooting. Strange to say, it
is not, like most Indian plains, burned up and brown, but, from its
vicinity to the river, and the frequent showers that visit it, as fresh
and green as an English park. It has a few fine tanks, and is sprinkled
with some leafy trees; these, however, not so numerous as they were
before the cyclones of 1864 and 1867, which swept away its chief natural
beauties. Several broad well-kept drives intersect it, and it is
ornamented by some graceful gardens and a few handsome columns and
statues. Indeed, the Maidan is the centre of all that is grand and
imposing; the shabby and the uns