Flowers and Flower Gardens: Instructions for the Anglo-Indian Flower Garden

“But it is not until he arrives at a bend of the river called Garden Reach, where the City of Palaces first opens on the view, that the stranger has a full sense of the value of our possessions in the East. The princely mansions on our right;–(residences of English gentry), with their rich gardens and smooth slopes verdant to the water’s edge,– the large and rich Botanic Garden and the Gothic edifice of Bishop’s College on our left–and in front, as we advance a little further, the countless masts of vessels of all sizes and characters, and from almost every clime,–Fort William, with its grassy ramparts and white barracks,–the Government House, a magnificent edifice in spite of many imperfections,–the substantial looking Town Hall–the Supreme Court House–the broad and ever verdant plain (or madaun) in front–and the noble lines of buildings along the Esplanade and Chowringhee Road,–the new Cathedral almost at the extremity of the plain, and half-hidden amidst the trees,–the suburban groves and buildings of Kidderpore beyond, their outlines softened by the haze of distance, like scenes contemplated through colored glass–the high-sterned budgerows and small trim bauleahs along the edge of the river,–the neatly-painted palanquins and other vehicles of all sorts and sizes,–the variously- hued and variously-clad people of all conditions; the fair European, the black and nearly naked Cooly, the clean-robed and lighter-skinned native Baboo, the Oriental nobleman with his jewelled turban and kincob vest, and costly necklace and twisted cummerbund, on a horse fantastically caparisoned, and followed in barbaric state by a train of attendants with long, golden-handled punkahs, peacock feather chowries, and golden chattahs and silver sticks,–present altogether a scene that is calculated to at once delight and bewilder the traveller, to whom all the strange objects before him have something of the enchantment and confusion of an Arabian Night’s dream. When he recovers from his surprise, the first emotion in the breast of an Englishman is a feeling of national pride. He exults in the recognition of so many glorious indications of the power of a small and remote nation that has founded a splendid empire in so strange and vast a land.”

David Lester Richardson,(1801 – 1865)
Principal of Hindu Metropolitan College

 


~ garden-r

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