Upon emerging from the bazaar, we enter upon the wide plain called the Esplanade.  To the left, across an extensive parade-ground, appears the Fort, which is seen to the best advantage from this point; the walls are low, and afford an ample view of a range of three-storied houses, having verandahs all the way up, called Rampart Row, and from which one or two very splendid mansions stand out conspicuously.  To the right, there is a whole encampment of tents, these canvas dwellings being the sole refuge for the destitute.  They may be hired in any number and of every degree of elegance, none, however, quite reaching to the refinements of Bengal, or being supplied with glass doors and windows.  Beyond the tents, and quite close to the beach, is the space allotted for the temporary bungalows erected during the cold season—­singular places, which will be more fully described under the head of Anglo-Indian residences.  In front, and close to the warf or bunder, are immense irregular piles of cotton in bales, which at a distance appear like fortifications, and upon a nearer approach assume somewhat of a picturesque air.

The Fort is surrounded on the land-side with a moat, and is entered through some very shabby gateways.  The interior of this extensive work presents a busy, bustling scene; its numerous houses being arranged with some degree of regularity in streets and open places.  Those who content themselves, however, with driving through the European portion, will have very little idea of the true character of the place.  Rampart Row—­the avenues leading into a large open space, in which stand the cathedral, the town-hall, the mint, a cavalry barrack, &c.—­and the immediate environs, are composed of lofty, well-constructed houses, some standing a little apart in courtyards, and others with a narrow platform in front, ascended by steps, and roofed by the story above.  This, as I have previously stated, is the general method of building in Bombay.  These streets have somewhat of an European, though not an English, air, but are for the most part tenanted by natives, who may be seen at the windows of every floor, and who apparently are better lodged, at least according to our idea, than the same class in Calcutta.  In this part of the Fort there are several shops, or rather warehouses, for the sale of European goods—­dingy places, having a melancholy assortment of faded articles in dim glass cases, freshness and variety in the merchandize depending upon shipping arrivals.

Earthenware, glass, and cutlery, are abundant; but, altogether, there is nothing at present to compare with the first-rate establishments of Calcutta—­such as Tulloh’s, for instance—­the whole style being dirty and slovenly.  A very civil native, named Muncherjee, who calls himself a milliner, has, I am informed, very frequently well-chosen investments to dispose of, but upon my visits I have seen nothing wearable in the shape of bonnets and caps.  An English milliner resides in his neighbourhood, who possesses both skill and taste, and makes up her silks and gauzes after the best French models; but necessarily, perhaps, the purchases made at her rooms are rather expensive.