The party left Calcutta on 21 October 1837, travelling on a ‘flat’, first heading downstream and then through the Sundarbans, a murky green-brown, semi-aquatic, tiger-infested mangrove forest. Few paintings from this claustrophobic part of the journey have survived; there is one in the Victoria Memorial collection showing a rakish-looking William Osborne on deck, smoking shisha from an enormous hookah, fanned by a bearer and attended by a hookah-burdar. Emily does not mention sketching until she reaches Raj Mahl (Rajmahal), 200 miles from Calcutta as the crow flies but more than twice that by boat, then again at Monghyr (Munger), where she and Fanny sketched ‘objects’ all day, and at Seetakund (Sita Kund), they sketched at the famous hot springs until dusk.Emily Eden’s ‘Servants with Dogs and Hawks belonging to the King of Oude, Lithograph tinted with opaque watercolour and ink on paper pasted on paper, 1844. Photo: DAG.Throughout the journey, Emily’s vivid written descriptions matched with their visual counterparts enrich our experience and understanding of the ordinary, as well as the extraordinary nature of Lord Auckland’s progress ‘up country’. Her ability to combine a masterful use of language with attractive sketches made what was unimaginable to many at home much easier to visualise and comprehend. Although opinionated and self-consciously entertaining in writing, she was straightforward in painting, and her desire to make a documentary record for private and, latterly, public audiences succeeds as an authentic account of what she witnessed. However, while her interpretation of events, related through a mixture of pathos and humour, attracted many admirers, it often gave a very partial view in support of her brother’s decisions, even when he was mistaken.On arrival at Benares on 15 November, the Eden party sailed along the river Ganges and took in the view of the whole city before continuing to the adjacent city of Ramnagar, where the raja had a country house. The sights so impressed Emily that she wrote, ‘We mean to keep our steamer here and to go out sketching in it.’ When writing to her sister describing the wealth of the raja and the opulence witnessed during their encounter with him, Emily included a sketch ‘to illustrate for the children “their dear devoted creature”, G[eorge], first in the silver tonjaun which took him down to the boat, then in the other State silver tonjaun that took him up from the ghaut, and then a back view of him on an elephant’. In the same letter, she referred to the artist Samuel Prout (1783–1852), a well-known watercolourist specialising in architecture and street scenes, saying that had he seen the temples of Benares, he would ‘go mad in a brown outline frenzy on the spot – the buildings are so very beautiful for his style.’Emily Eden’s, ‘The Bridge of Jupiter’, Watercolour on paper, 1835–36. Photo: Folio from Sketchbook (Voyage to India) by Emily Eden/DAG.The aim of Lord Auckland’s trip northwards was to cement an alliance with the Sikh leader, Maharaja Ranjit Singh, widely known as the Lion of the Punjab. Ranjit Singh was, according to Emily, ‘the only Indian subject that was interesting at home.’ It was, therefore, Emily’s intention to exploit his reputation and create some of her best portraits, particularly of the Sikhs she met in Simla and Lahore, and then separate them into groups of commoners and royalty. In an early example of soft power, she flattered all the rajas who entertained the Edens and reciprocated in kind by sketching them. But due to her interest in capturing a wider range of subjects, Emily also made paintings of, among others, horsemen, falconers, a butter-seller, a dak-wallah (postman), jewellers, wood-carriers, ‘Tartars’ from Tibet, a policeman and a magistrate. These works acted as a foil to her sketches of higher-ranking individuals. Many drawings were produced quickly, but, whether rushed or laboured, they had sufficient merit to arouse curiosity and satisfy the interest of a home audience. Twenty-four images of these works were selected for inclusion in Portraits of the Princes and People of India, published in 1844.Emily Eden’s. Akalees. Lithograph tinted with watercolour on paper pasted on paper, 1844. Photo: DAG.Meeting one of the horsemen of the Sikh Raja of Patiala, Emily was struck by those she referred to as his ‘dwarf’ attendants, whom she included in the painting. Their role at court was as ‘diversions’. Emily befriended the two attendants and gave them shawls in exchange for a sitting. With their simple outfits and downcast eyes, they appear modest and forlorn in relation to the elegantly attired horseman clad in fine, embroidered fabrics and golden headgear, his height atop his horse emphasising their smallness. Emily also made a portrait of the Raja of Patiala seated in a howdah behind and above his mahout on an elephant in full regalia. This painting, with its bold, full-frontal positioning, was so successful that Indian artists in Delhi clamoured to copy it on ivory. It was equally well received in England; in 1844, the Illustrated London News reproduced a slight variation of this painting, describing it as ‘an imposing scene of Indian pomp and semi-barbaric splendour.’Like the Patiala paintings, other works in Princes and People are notable for introducing ordinary Indians amongst scenes and characters of political importance. This was one of Emily’s singular artistic contributions. The original visual information was broadened and personalised by her descriptive asides when, in 1866, Emily published Up the Country, a collection of letters she had written to her sister. For example, Shere Singh merits fulsome praise – ‘such a gorgeous figure! all over diamonds and emeralds’ – while in her painting of Dost Mohammad Khan and his sons, she alludes to the practical aspects of composition and shares her sitters’ response to finished work:“I have done a sketch of him and his two sons – merely their heads – and wanted his nephew, who is a beautiful specimen of a Jewish Afghan, to fill up the sheet.… My drawing is a very pretty one, and they are pleased with their likenesses.”Emily Eden’s, Annan Messee, a converted Hindoo / The Rajah of Nahun and his two Sons, Lithograph tinted with watercolour on paper pasted onpaper, 1844. Photo: DAG.As for the other subjects, the so-called ordinary people tackled by Emily, for example, the Akalees or Immortals with their pointed turbans, lethal steel quoits (throwing weapons) and guns, and the fakir with long, matted hair posed amid a rocky landscape, they were not representative of ordinariness. Rather, they were chosen for their dramatic appearance and visual impact.In contrast, animals simply appealed to Emily, especially those that were not native to Britain or had well-dressed attendants: a camel in A Shootr-Suwar; the King of Oude’s dogs and hawks and his hunting leopards in ceremonial coats.Emily was similarly attracted by the fabrics, embroidery, jewellery and adornments she saw as they travelled across the country, as shown in her skilful rendering of the sash, sword and earrings worn by the subject of A Young Hill Rana; the shawls and slippers of the Two Attendants of Raja Khurruck Singh; and the richly Kairi-patterned coat of a zemindar (farmer). She was careful to delineate the wrapping and folds of turbans to show the different styles, colours and materials that were used according to caste and faith.Emily Eden, ‘Horse and Jewels of Runjeet Singh,’ Lithograph tinted with watercolour on paper pasted on paper, 1844. Photo: DAG.But Emily’s particular passion was precious stones, which she represented in the jewelled trappings of one of Ranjit Singh’s favourite horses and jewels from the royal treasury, including the famed Koh-i-Noor diamond, drawn to size and meriting one of Emily’s longest captions in the publication.Emily Eden’s ‘Runjeet Singh’, Lithograph tinted with watercolour on paper pasted on paper, 1844. Photo: DAG.The most well-known of Emily’s works from this period is a portrait of the ailing Maharaja Ranjit Singh before he died in 1839. She portrays him in profile, plainly dressed and seated with one leg resting on his silver chair, the other on a footstool; his left hand is raised, and the index finger is pointing. A simple composition and a single gesture showcase Emily’s skill in capturing not just the physical likeness of her subject (‘like an old mouse’) but also the dignity and authority of the Maharaja, whom many had once feared.Mary Ann Prior is an art historian, curator and authorThe above is excerpted from Prior’s ‘From Private Pastime to Public Property: The Impact of India On Emily Eden’s Oeuvre,’ in Princes and People of India: Portraits by Emily Eden, an exhibition by DAG that brings together, for the first time in India, the complete published series of Emily Eden’s celebrated Portraits of the Princes and People of India (1844), the recently acquired Eden Family Archives, and a rare corpus of Lahore Company School paintings. The exhibition is on view at DAG, New Delhi, from July 10 to August 1, 2026.