The Cambridge History of India, Vol. IV: The Mughul Period v4.c23.s4.165

v4.c23.s4.165

Owing perhaps to being in one of the Mughul cities of Hindūstān, and not so distantly situated as the previous monument, fewer defects are observable in the Bādshāhī mosque at Lahore. Its production was the work of Fidāi Khān Kūka, Aurangzīb's Master of Ordnance, whose engineering experience enabled him to plan and erect a building of sound construction and great size. But even his technical skill could not build to withstand the earthquake which in 1840 shattered its four minarets, the principal feature of the design. Without these the building loses much of its effect, but there is a certain dignity in its broad quadrangle leading up to the façade of the sanctuary, a scheme in red sandstone laced with marble. The three bulbous domes are well-proportioned, and rise into a grand mass of white marble above the western wall, which presents an almost unbroken surface of masonry of imposing appearance. As a contrast to the excess of decoration in the mausoleum referred to above this mosque marks the other extreme; its ornamentation, although boldly conceived, is sparingly introduced, so that the general impression it conveys is uninteresting, the attempt at economy of detail defeating its own purpose. Another and entirely opposite example of the Mughul style, as manifested in the time of Aurangzīb, is the mosque at Benares, the minarets of which dominate the city with their slender prettiness but entirely lack stability or strength. It illustrates with the other buildings executed during this emperor’s reign the inconsistent nature of the art and the extent to which it had fallen away from its previous standard towards the end of the seventeenth century. The final state of the style in the eighteenth century is seen in the tomb of Safdar Jang, a large and pretentious structure erected in Delhi as late as 1753. As it is situated a comparatively short distance from the mausoleum of the emperor Humāyūn it is an easy matter to compare the two monuments, the first and the last of their kind. A period of nearly two hundred years separates the one from the other, and the change that has taken place is illuminating. They represent the extremes of their style, that of the emperor expressing in every line its power and exultant vitality, and that “dew of the morning” which marks the beginning of every new movement. On the other hand, the tomb of Safdar Jang seems to be striving by artificial means to reproduce the original vigour, while in reality it is enfeebled and decadent. Gone are the balanced proportions with broad simple planes, and in their place is an ostentatious and affected structure, each part embarrassed with repetitions of weak and tasteless motifs. It was a final effort to recapture the old spirit of the Mughul style as seen in the royal tombs when the dynasty was a living force; but by this time the art had gone beyond any hope of recall.