Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, vol. 3 of 3, by James Tod

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CHAPTER 1

Having never penetrated personally farther into the heart of the desert than Mandor, the ancient capital of all Marusthali, the old castle of Hissar on its north-eastern frontier, and Abu, Nahrwala, and Bhuj, to the south, it may be necessary, before entering upon the details, to deprecate the charge of presumption or incompetency, by requesting the reader to bear in mind that my parties of discovery have traversed it in every direction, adding to their journals of routes living testimonies of their accuracy, and bringing to me natives of every thal from Bhatner to Umarkot, and from Abu to Aror.^[1] I wish it, however, to be clearly understood, that I look upon this as a mere outline, which, by showing what might be done, may stimulate further research; but in the existing dearth of information on the subject I have not hesitated to send it forth, with its almost inevitable errors, as (I trust) a pioneer to more extended and accurate knowledge.

After premising thus much, let us commence with details, which, but for the reasons already stated, should have been comprised in the geographical portion of the work, and which, though irrelevant to the historical part, are too important to 1258be [290] thrown into notes. I may add, that the conclusions formed, partly from personal observation, but chiefly from the resources described above, have been confirmed by the picture drawn by Mr. Elphinstone of his passage through the northern desert in the embassy to Kabul, which renders perfectly satisfactory to me the views I before entertained. It may be well, at this stage, to mention that some slight repetitions must occur as we proceed, having incidentally noticed many of the characteristic features of the desert in the Annals of Bikaner, which was unavoidable from the position of that State.State.

Description of the Desert.

—The hand of Nature has defined, in the boldest characters, the limits of the great desert of India, and we only require to follow minutely the line of demarcation; though, in order to be distinctly understood, we must repeat the analysis of the term Marusthali, the emphatic appellation of this ‘region of death.’ The word is compounded of the Sanskrit mri, ‘to die,’ and sthala, ‘arid or dry land,’ which last, in the corrupted dialect of those countries, becomes thal, the converse of the Greek oasis, denoting tracts particularly sterile. Each thal has its distinct denomination, as the ‘thal of Kawa,’ the ‘thal of Guga,’ etc.; and the cultivated spots, compared with these, either as to number or magnitude, are so scanty, that instead of the ancient Roman simile, which likened Africa to the leopard’s hide, reckoning the spots thereon as the oases, I would compare the Indian desert to that of the tiger, of which the long dark stripes would indicate the expansive belts of sand, elevated upon a plain only less sandy, and over whose surface numerous thinly-peopled towns and hamlets are scattered.

Boundaries of the Desert.

—Marusthali is bounded on the north by the flat skirting the Ghara; on the south by that grand salt-marsh, the Ran, and Koliwara; on the east by the Aravalli; and on the west by the valley of Sind. The two last boundaries are the most conspicuous, especially the Aravalli, but for which impediment Central India would be submerged in sand; nay, lofty and continuous as is this chain, extending almost from the sea to Delhi, wherever there are passages or depressions, these floating sand-clouds are wafted through or over, and form a little thal even in the bosom of fertility. Whoever has crossed the Banas near Tonk, where the sand for some miles resembles waves of the sea, will comprehend this remark. Its western boundary is alike 1259defined, and will recall to the English traveller, who may be destined to journey up the valley of Sind, the words of Napoleon on the Libyan desert: “Nothing so much resembles the sea as the desert; or a coast, as the valley of the Nile”: for this substitute ‘Indus’ [291], whence in journeying northward along its banks from Haidarabad to Uchh, the range of vision will be bounded to the east by a bulwark of sand, which, rising often to the height of two hundred feet above the level of the river, leads one to imagine that the chasm, now forming this rich valley, must have originated in a sudden melting of all the glaciers of Caucasus, whose congregated waters made this break in the continuity of Marusthali, which would otherwise be united with the deserts of Arachosia.Arachosia.

We may here repeat the tradition illustrating the geography of the desert, i.e. that in remote ages it was ruled by princes of the Panwar (Pramara) race, which the sloka, or verse of the bard, recording the names of the nine fortresses (Nau-koti Maru-ki), so admirably adapted by their position to maintain these regions in subjection, further corroborates. We shall divest it of its metrical form, and begin with Pugal, to the north; Mandor, in the centre of all Maru; Abu, Kheralu, and Parkar, to the south; Chhotan, Umarkot, Aror, and Lodorva, to the west; the possession of which assuredly marks the sovereignty of the desert. The antiquity of this legend is supported by the omission of all modern cities, the present capital of the Bhattis not being mentioned. Even Lodorva and Aror, cities for ages in ruins, are names known only to a few who frequent the desert; and Chhotan and Kheralu, but for the traditional stanzas which excited our research, might never have appeared on the map.

Natural Divisions of the Desert.

—We purpose to follow the natural divisions of the country, or those employed by the natives, who, as stated above, distinguish them as thals; and after describing these in detail, with a summary notice of the principal towns whether ruined or existing, and the various tribes, conclude with the chief lines of route diverging from, or leading to, Jaisalmer.

The whole of Bikaner, and that part of Shaikhavati north of the Aravalli, are comprehended in the desert. If the reader will refer to the map, and look for the town of Kanod,^[2] within the 1260British frontier, he will see what Mr. Elphinstone considered as the commencement of the desert, in his interesting expedition to Kabul.^[3] “From Delly to Canound (the Kanorh of my map), a distance of one hundred miles is through the British dominions, and need not be described. It is sufficient to say that the country is sandy, though not ill cultivated. On approaching Canound, we had the first specimen of the desert, to which we were looking forward with anxious curiosity. Three miles before reaching that place we came to sand-hills, which at first were [292] covered with bushes, but afterwards were naked piles of loose sand, rising one after another like the waves of the sea, and marked on the surface by the wind like drifted snow. There were roads through them, made solid by the treading of animals; but off the road our horses sunk into the sand above the knee.” Such was the opening scene; the route of the embassy was by Singhana, Jhunjhunu, to Chum, when they entered Bikaner. Of Shaikhavati, which he had just left, Mr. Elphinstone says: “It seems to lose its title to be included in the desert, when compared with the two hundred and eighty miles between its western frontier and Bahawulpoor, and, even of this, only the last hundred miles is absolutely destitute of inhabitants, water, or vegetation. Our journey from Shekhavati to Poogul was over hills and valleys of loose and heavy sand. The hills were exactly like those which are sometimes formed by the wind on the seashore, but far exceeding them in height, which was from twenty to a hundred feet. They are said to shift their position and alter their shapes according as they are affected by the wind; and in summer the passage is rendered dangerous by the clouds of moving sand; but when I saw the hills (in winter), they seemed to have a great degree of permanence, for they bore grass, besides phoke, the babool, and bair or jujube, which altogether give them an appearance that sometimes amounted to verdure. Amongst the most dismal hills of sand one occasionally meets with a village, if such a name can be given to a few round huts of straw, with low walls and conical roofs, like little stacks of corn.” This description of the northern portion of the desert, by an author whose great characteristics are accuracy and simplicity, will enable the reader to form a more correct notion of what follows.^[4]

1261With these remarks, and bearing in mind what has already been said of the physiography of these regions, we proceed to particularize the various thals and oases in this ‘region of death.’ It will be convenient to disregard the ancient Hindu geographical division, which makes Mandor the capital of Marusthali, a distinction both from its character and position better suited to Jaisalmer, being nearly in the centre of what may be termed entire desert. It is in fact an oasis, everywhere insulated by immense masses of thal, some of which are forty miles in breadth, without the trace of man, or aught that could subsist him. From Jaisalmer we shall pass to Marwar, and without crossing the Luni, describe Jalor and Siwanchi; then conduct the [293] reader into the almost unknown Raj of Parkar and Virawah,^[5] governed by princes of the Chauhan race, with the title of Rana. Thence, skirting the political limits of modern Rajputana, to the regions of Dhat and Umra-sumra, now within the dominion of Sind, we shall conclude with a very slight sketch of Daudputra, and the valley of the Indus. These details will receive further illustration from the remarks made on every town or hamlet diverging from the ‘hill of Jaisal’ (Jaisalmer). Could the beholder, looking westward from this ‘triple-peaked hill,’^[6] across this sandy ocean to the blue waters (Nilab)^[7] of the Indus, embrace in his vision its whole course from Haidarabad to Uchh, he would perceive, amidst these valleys of sand-hills, little colonies of animated beings, congregated on every spot which water renders habitable. Throughout this tract, from four hundred to five hundred miles in longitudinal extent, and from one hundred to two hundred of diagonal breadth, are little hamlets, consisting of the scattered huts of the shepherds of the desert, occupied in pasturing their 1262flocks or cultivating these little oases for food. He may discern a long line of camels (called kitar, a name better known than either kafila or karwan), anxiously toiling through the often doubtful path, and the Charan conductor, at each stage, tying a knot on the end of his turban. He may discover, lying in ambush, a band of Sahariyas, the Bedouins of our desert (sahra),^[8] either mounted on camels or horses, on the watch to despoil the caravan, or engaged in the less hazardous occupation of driving off the flocks of the Rajar or Mangalia shepherds, peacefully tending them about the tars or bawas, or hunting for the produce stored amidst the huts of the ever-green jhal,^[9] which serve at once as grain-pits and shelter from the sun. A migratory band may be seen flitting with their flocks from ground which they have exhausted, in search of fresh pastures:

Or they may be seen preparing the rabri, a mess quite analogous to the kouskous of their Numidian brethren, or quenching their thirst from the Wah of their little oasis, of which they maintain sovereign possession so long as the pasture lasts, or till they come in conflict with some more powerful community.

Oasis.

—We may here pause to consider whether in the bah, bawa, or wah, of the Indian desert, may not be found the oasis of the Greeks, corrupted by them from el-wah, or, as written by Belzoni (in his account of the Libyan desert, while searching for the [294] temple of Ammon), Elloah. Of the numerous terms used to designate water in these arid regions, as par, rar, tar, dah or daha, bah, bawa, wah, all but the latter are chiefly applicable to springs or pools of water, while the last (wah), though used often in a like sense, applies more to a water-course or stream. El-wah, under whatever term, means—‘the water.’ Again, daha or dah is a term in general use for a pool, even not unfrequently in running streams and large rivers, which, ceasing to flow in 1263dry weather, leave large stagnant masses, always called dah. There are many of the streams of Rajputana, having such pools, particularized as hathi-dah, or ‘elephant-pool,’ denoting a sufficiency of water even to drown that animal. Now the word dah or daha, added to the generic term for water, wah, would make wadi (pool of water), the Arabian term for a running stream, and commonly used by recent travellers in Africa for these habitable spots. If the Greeks took the word wadi from any MS., the transposition would be easily accounted for: wadi would be written thus وازي, and by the addition of a point وازي, wazi, easily metamorphosed, for a euphonous termination, into oasis.^[10]

At the risk of somewhat of repetition, we must here point out the few grand features which diversify this sea of sand, and after defining the difference between rui and thal, which will frequently occur in the itinerary, at once plunge in medias res.

The Lost River of the Desert.

—We have elsewhere mentioned the tradition of the absorption of the Ghaggar river, as one of the causes of the comparative depopulation of the northern desert. The couplet recording it I could not recall at the time, nor any 1264record of the Sodha prince Hamir, in whose reign this phenomenon is said to have happened. But the utility of these ancient traditional couplets, to which I have frequently drawn the reader’s attention, has again been happily illustrated, for the name of Hamir has been incidentally discovered from the trivial circumstance of an intermarriage related in the Bhatti annals. His contemporary of Jaisalmer was Dusaj, who succeeded in S. 1100 or [295] A.D. 1044, so that we have a precise date assigned, supposing this to be the Hamir in question. The Ghaggar, which rises in the Siwalik, passes Hansi Hissar, and flowed under the walls of Bhatner, at which place they yet have their wells in its bed. Thence it passed Rangmahall, Balar, and Phulra, and through the flats of Khadal (of which Derawar is the capital), emptying itself according to some below Uchh, but according to Abu-Barakat (whom I sent to explore in 1809, and who crossed the dry bed of a stream called the Khaggar, near Shahgarh), between Jaisalmer and Rori-Bakhar. If this could be authenticated, we should say at once that, united with the branch from Dara, it gave its name to the Sangra, which unites with the Luni, enlarging the eastern branch of the Delta of the Indus.^[11]

The Lūni River.

—The next, and perhaps most remarkable feature in the desert, is the Luni, or Salt River, which, with its numerous feeders, has its source in the springs of the Aravalli. Of Marwar it is a barrier between the fertile lands and the desert; and as it leaves this country for the thal of the Chauhans, it divides that community, and forms a geographical demarcation; the eastern portion being called the Raj of Suigam; and the western part, Parkar, or beyond the Khar, or Luni.^[12]

The Rann of Cutch.

—We shall hereafter return to the country of the Chauhans, which is bounded to the south by that singular feature in the physiognomy of the desert, the Rann, or Ran, already slightly touched upon in the geographical sketch prefixed to this work. This immense salt-marsh, upwards of one hundred and fifty miles in breadth, is formed chiefly by the Luni, which, like the Rhone, after forming Lake Leman, resumes its name at its further outlet, and ends as it commences with a sacred character, 1265having the temple of Narayan ^[13] at its embouchure, where it mingles with the ocean, and that of Brahma at its source of Pushkar. The Rann, or Ran, is a corruption of Aranya, or ‘the waste’;^[14] nor can anything in nature be more dreary in the dry weather than this parched desert of salt and mud, the peculiar abode of the khar-gadha, or wild-ass, whose love of solitude has been commemorated by an immortal pen.^[15] That this enormous depository of salt is of no recent formation we are informed by the Greek writers, whose notice it did not escape, and who have preserved in Erinos a nearer approximation to the original Aranya than exists in our Ran or Rann. Although mainly indebted to the Luni for its salt, whose bed and that of its feeders are covered with saline deposits, it is also supplied by the overflowings of the Indus, to which grand stream it may be indebted for its volume of water. We have here another strong point of physical resemblance between the valleys of the Indus and the Nile, which Napoleon [296] at once referred to the simple operations of nature; I allude to the origin of Lake Moeris, a design too vast for man.^[16]

Thal, Rūi.

—As the reader will often meet with the words thal and rui, he should be acquainted with the distinction between them. The first means an arid and bare desert; the other is equally expressive of desert, but implies the presence of natural vegetation; in fact, the jungle of the desert.

Thal of the Luni.

—This embraces the tracts on both sides of the river, forming Jalor and its dependencies. Although the region south of the stream cannot be included in the thal, yet it 1266is so intimately connected with it, that we shall not forego the only opportunity we may have of noticing it.

Jālor.

—This tract is one of the most important divisions of Marwar. It is separated from Siwanchi by the Sukri and Khari,^[17] which, with many smaller streams, flow through them from the Aravalli and Abu, aiding to fertilize its three hundred and sixty towns and villages, forming a part of the fiscal domains of Marwar. Jalor, according to the geographical stanza so often quoted, was one of the ‘nine castles of Maru,’ when the Pramar held paramount rule in Marusthali. When it was wrested from them we have no clue to discover;^[18] but it had long been held by the Chauhans, whose celebrated defence of their capital against Alau-d-din, in A.D. 1301, is recorded by Ferishta, as well as in the chronicles of their bards. This branch of the Chauhan race was called Mallani, and will be again noticed, both here and in the annals of Haraoti. It formed that portion of the Chauhan sovereignty called the Hapa Raj, whose capital was Juna-Chhotan, connecting the sway of this race in the countries along the Luni from Ajmer to Parkar, which would appear to have crushed its Agnikula brother, the Pramar, and possessed all that region marked by the course of the ‘Salt River’ to Parkar.

Sonagir, the ‘golden mount,’ is the more ancient name of this castle, and was adopted by the Chauhans as distinctive of their tribe, when the older term, Mallani, was dropped for Sonigira. Here they enshrined their tutelary divinity, Mallinath, ‘god of the Malli,’ who maintained his position until the sons of Siahji entered these regions, when the name of Sonagir was exchanged for that of Jalor, contracted from Jalandharnath, whose shrine is about a coss west of the castle. Whether Jalandharnath [297], the ‘divinity of Jalandhar,’ was imported from the Ganges, or left as well as the god of the Malli by the ci-devant Mallanis, is uncertain: but should this prove to be a remnant of the foes of Alexander, driven by him from Multan,^[19] its probability is increased 1267by the caves of Jalandhar (so celebrated as a Hindu pilgrimage even in Babur’s time) being in their vicinity. Be this as it may, the Rathors, like the Roman conquerors, have added these indigenous divinities to their own pantheon. The descendants of the expatriated Sonigiras now occupy the lands of Chitalwana, near the furca of the Luni.

Jalor comprehends the inferior districts of Siwanchi, Bhinmal, Sanchor, Morsin, all attached to the khalisa or fisc; besides the great pattayats, or chieftainships, of Bhadrajan, Mewa, Jasola, and Sindari—a tract of ninety miles in length, and nearly the same in breadth, with fair soil, water near the surface, and requiring only good government to make it as productive as any of its magnitude in these regions, and sufficient to defray the whole personal expenses of the Rajas of Jodhpur, or about nine lakhs of rupees; but in consequence of the anarchy of the capital, the corruption of the managers, and the raids of the Sahariyas of the desert and the Minas of Abu and the Aravalli, it is deplorably deteriorated. There are several ridges (on one of which is the castle) traversing the district, but none uniting with the table-land of Mewar, though with breaks it may be traced to near Abu. In one point it shows its affinity to the desert, i.e. in its vegetable productions, for it has no other timber than the jhal, the babul, the karil, and other shrubs of the thal.

The important fortress of Jalor, guarding the southern frontier of Marwar, stands on the extremity of the range extending north to Siwana. It is from three to four hundred feet in height, fortified with a wall and bastions, on some of which cannon are mounted. It has four gates; that from the town is called the Suraj-pol, and to the north-west is the Bal-pol (‘the gate of Bal,’ the sun-god), where there is a shrine of the Jain pontiff, Parsvanath. There are many wells, and two considerable baoris, or reservoirs of good water, and to the north a small lake formed by damming up the streams from the hills; but the water seldom lasts above half the year. The town [298], which contains three 1268thousand and seventeen houses, extends on the north and eastern side of the fort, having the Sukri flowing about a mile east of it. It has a circumvallation as well as the castle, having guns for its defence; and is inhabited by every variety of tribe, though, strange to say, there are only five families of Rajputs in its motley population. The following census was made by one of my parties, in A.D. 1813:

Sīwāna.

—Siwanchi is the tract between the Luni and Sukri, of which Siwana, a strong castle placed on the extremity of the same range with Jalor, is the capital. The country requires no particular description, being of the same nature as that just depicted. In former times it constituted, together with Nagor, the appanage of the heir-apparent of Marwar; but since the 1269setting-up of the pretender, Dhonkal Singh, both have been attached to the fisc: in fact, there is no heir to Maru! Ferishta mentions the defence of Siwana against the arms of Alau-d-din.^[21]

Machola, Morsin.

—Machola and Morsin are the two principal dependencies of Jalor within the Luni, the former having a strong castle guarding its south-east frontier against the [299] depredations of the Minas; the latter, which has also a fort and town of five hundred houses, is on the western extremity of Jalor.

Bhīnmāl, Sānchor.

—Bhinmal and Sanchor are the two principal subdivisions to the south, and together nearly equal the remainder of the province, each containing eighty villages. These towns are on the high-road to Cutch and Gujarat, which has given them from the most remote times a commercial celebrity. Bhinmal is said to contain fifteen hundred houses, and Sanchor about half the number.^[22] Very wealthy Mahajans, or ‘merchants,’ used to reside here, but insecurity both within and without has much injured these cities, the first of which has its name, Mal (not Mahl, as in the map), from its wealth as a mart.^[23] There is a temple of Baraha (Varaha, the incarnation of the hog), with a great sculptured boar. Sanchor possesses also a distinct celebrity from being the cradle of a class of Brahmans called Sanchora, who are the officiating priests of some of the most celebrated temples in these regions, as that of Dwarka, Mathura, Pushkar, Nagar-Parkar, etc.^[24] The name of Sanchor is corrupted from Satipura, Sati, or Suttee’s town, said to be very ancient.

Bhadrājan.

—A slight notice is due to the principal fiefs of Jalor, as well as the fiscal towns of this domain. Bhadrajan is a town of five hundred houses (three-fourths of which are of the Mina class), situated in the midst of a cluster of hills, having a small fort. The chief is of the Jodha clan; his fief connects Jalor with Pali in Godwar.

Mewa.

—Mewa is a celebrated little tract on both banks of the Luni, and one of the first possessions of the Rathors. It is, 1270properly speaking, in Siwanchi, to which it pays a tribute, besides service when required. The chief of Mewa has the title of Rawal, and his usual residence is the town of Jasol. Surat Singh is the present chief; his relative, Surajmall, holds the same title, and the fief and castle of Sandri, also on the Luni, twenty-two miles south of Jasol. A feud reigns between them; they claim co-equal rights, and the consequence is that neither can reside at Mewa, the capital of the domain. Both chiefs deemed the profession of robber no disgrace, when this memoir was written (1813); but it is to be hoped they have seen the danger, if not the error, of their ways, and will turn to cultivating the fertile tracts along the ‘Salt River,’ which yield wheat, juar, and bajra in abundance.

Bālotra, Tīlwāra.

—Balotra, Tilwara, are two celebrated names in the geography of this region, and have an annual fair, as renowned in Rajputana as that of Leipsic in Germany. Though called the Balotra mela (literally, 'an assemblage, or [300] concourse of people'), it was held at Tilwara, several miles south,^[25] near an island of the Luni, which is sanctified by a shrine of Mallinath, ‘the divinity of the Malli,’ who, as already mentioned, is now the patron god of the Rathors. Tilwara forms the fief of another relative of the Mewa family, and Balotra, which ought to belong to the fisc, did and may still belong to Awa, the chief noble of Marwar. But Balotra and Sandri have other claims to distinction, having, with the original estate of Dunara, formed the fief of Durgadas, the first character in the annals of Maru, and whose descendant yet occupies Sandri. The fief of Mewa, which includes them all, was rated at fifty thousand rupees annually. The Pattayats with their vassalage occasionally go to court, but hold themselves exempt from service except on emergencies. The call upon them is chiefly for the defence of the frontier, of which they are the Simiswara, or lord-marchers.

Īndhāvati.

—This tract, which has its name from the Rajput tribe of Indha, the chief branch of the Parihars (the ancient sovereigns of Mandor), extends from Balotra north, and west of the capital, Jodhpur, and is bounded on the north by the thal of Guga. The thal of Indhavati embraces a space of about thirty coss in circumference.

Gūgadeo ka Thal.

—The thal of Guga, a name celebrated in the heroic history of the Chauhans, is immediately north of Indhavati, 1271and one description will suit both. The sand-ridges (thal-ka-tiba) are very lofty in all this tract; very thinly inhabited; few villages; water far from the surface, and having considerable jungles. Tob, Phalsund, and Bimasar are the chief towns in this rui. They collect rain-water in reservoirs called tanka, which they are obliged to use sparingly, and often while a mass of corruption, producing that peculiar disease in the eyes called rataundha (corrupted by us to rotunda) or night-blindness,^[26] for with the return of day it passes off.

Tararoi.

—The thal of Tararoi intervenes between that of Gugadeo and the present frontier of Jaisalmer, to which it formerly belonged.^[27] Pokaran is the chief town, not of Tararoi only, but of all the desert interposed between the two chief capitals of Marusthali. The southern part of this thal does not differ from that described, but its northern portion, and more especially for sixteen to twenty miles around the city of Pokaran, are low disconnected ridges of loose rock, the continuation of that on which stands the capital of the Bhattis, which give, as we have already said, to this oasis the epithet of Mer, or rocky. The name of Tararoi is derived from tar, which signifies moisture, humidity [301] from springs, or the springs themselves, which rise from this rui. Pokaran, the residence of Salim Singh (into the history of whose family we have so fully entered in the Annals of Marwar), is a town of two thousand houses, surrounded by a stone wall, and having a fort, mounting several guns on its eastern side. Under the west side of the town, the inhabitants have the unusual sight in these regions of running water, though only in the rainy season, for it is soon absorbed by the sands. Some say it comes from the Sar of Kanod, others from the springs in the ridge; at all events, they derive a good and plentiful supply of water from the wells excavated in its bed. The chief of Pokaran, besides its twenty-four villages, holds lands between the Luni and Bandi rivers to the amount of a lakh of rupees. Dunara and Manzil, the fief of the loyal Durgadas, are now in the hands of the traitor 1272Salim. Three coss to the north of Pokaran is the village of Ramdeora, so named from a shrine to Ramdeo, one of the Paladins of the desert, and which attracts people from all quarters to the Mela, or fair, held in the rainy month of Bhadon.^[28] Merchants from Karachi-bandar, Tatta, Multan, Shikarpur, and Cutch here exchange the produce of various countries: horses, camels, and oxen used also to be reared in great numbers, but the famine of 1813, and anarchy ever since Raja Man’s accession, added to the interminable feuds between the Bhattis and Rathors, have checked all this desirable intercourse, which occasionally made the very heart of the desert a scene of joy and activity.

Khawar.

—This thal, lying between Jaisalmer and Barmer, and abutting at Girab into the desert of Dhat, is in the most remote angle of Marwar. Though thinly inhabited, it possesses several considerable places, entitled to the name of towns, in this ‘abode of death.’ Of these, Sheo and Kotra are the most considerable, the first containing three hundred, the latter five hundred houses, situated upon the ridge of hills, which may be traced from Bhuj to Jaisalmer. Both these towns belong to chiefs of the Rathor family, who pay a nominal obedience to the Raja of Jodhpur. At no distant period, a smart trade used to be carried on between Anhilwara Patan and this region; but the lawless Sahariyas plundered so many kafilas, that it is at length destroyed. They find pasture for numerous flocks of sheep and buffaloes in this thal.

Mallināth, Bārmer.

—The whole of this region was formerly inhabited by a tribe called Malli or Mallani, who, although asserted by some to be Rathor in origin, are assuredly Chauhan, and of the same stock as the ancient lords of Juna Chhotan. Barmer was reckoned, before the last famine, to contain one [302] thousand two hundred houses, inhabited by all classes, one-fourth of whom were Sanchora Brahmans.^[29] The town is situated in the same range as Sheo-Kotra, here two to three hundred feet in height. From Sheo to Barmer there is a good 1273deal of flat intermingled with low tibas of sand, which in favourable seasons produces enough food for consumption. Padam Singh, the Barmer chief, is of the same stock as those of Sheo Kotra and Jasol; from the latter they all issue, and he calculates thirty-four villages in his feudal domain. Formerly, a dani (which is, literally rendered, douanier) resided here to collect the transit duties; but the Sahariyas have rendered this office a sinecure, and the chief of Barmer takes the little it realizes to himself. They find it more convenient to be on a tolerably good footing with the Bhattis, from whom this tract was conquered, than with their own head, whose officers they very often oppose, especially when a demand is made upon them for dand; on which occasion they do not disdain to call in the assistance of their desert friends, the Sahariyas. Throughout the whole of this region they rear great numbers of the best camels, which find a ready market in every part of India.

Kherdhar.

—‘The land of Kher’^[30] has often been mentioned in the annals of these States. It was in this distant nook that the Rathors first established themselves, expelling the Gohil tribe, which migrated to the Gulf of Cambay, and are now lords of Gogha and Bhavnagar; and instead of steering ‘the ship of the desert’ in their piracies on the kafilas, plied the Great Indian Ocean, even “to the golden coast of Sofala,” in the yet more nefarious trade of slaves. It is difficult to learn what latitude they affixed to the ‘land of Kher,’ which in the time of the Gohils approximated to the Luni; nor is it necessary to perplex ourselves with such niceties, as we only use the names for the purpose of description. In all probability it comprehended the whole space afterwards occupied by the Mallani or Chauhans, who founded Juna-Chhotan, etc., which we shall therefore include in Kherdhar. Kheralu, the chief town, was one of the ‘nine castles 1274of Maru,’ when the Pramar was its sovereign lord. It has now dwindled into an insignificant village, containing no more than forty houses, surrounded on all sides by hills “of a black colour,” part of the same chain from Bhuj.

Jūna Chhotan.

—Juna Chhotan, or the ‘ancient’ Chhotan, though always conjoined in name, are two [303] distinct places, said to be of very great antiquity, and capitals of the Hapa sovereignty. But as to what this Hapa Raj was, beyond the bare fact of its princes being Chauhan, tradition is now mute. Both still present the vestiges of large cities, more especially Juna, ‘the ancient,’ which is enclosed in a mass of hills, having but one inlet, on the east side, where there are the ruins of a small castle which defended the entrance. There are likewise the remains of two more on the summit of the range. The mouldering remnants of mandirs (temples), and baoris (reservoirs), now choked up, all bear testimony to its extent, which is said to have included twelve thousand habitable dwellings! Now there are not above two hundred huts on its site, while Chhotan has shrunk into a poor hamlet. At Dhoriman, which is at the farther extremity of the range in which are Juna and Chhotan, there is a singular place of worship, to which the inhabitants flock on the tij, or third day of Sawan of each year. The patron saint is called Alandeo, through whose means some grand victory was obtained by the Mallani. The immediate objects of veneration are a number of brass images called Aswamukhi, from having the ‘heads of horses’ ranged on the top of a mountain called Alandeo. Whether these may further confirm the Scythic ancestry of the Mallani, as a branch of the Asi, or Aswa race of Central Asia, can at present be only matter of conjecture.

Nagar Gurha.

—Between Barmer and Nagar-Gurha on the Luni is one immense continuous thal, or rather rui, containing deep jungles of khair, or kher, khejra, karil, khep, phog,^[31] whose gums and berries are turned to account by the Bhils and Kolis of the southern districts. Nagar and Gurha are two large towns on the Luni (described in the itinerary), on the borders of the Chauhan raj of Suigam, and formerly part of it.

Here terminate our remarks on the thals of western Marwar, which, sterile as it is by the hand of Nature, had its miseries 1275completed by the famine that raged generally throughout these regions in S. 1868 (A.D. 1812), and of which this ^[32] is the third year. The disorders which we have depicted as prevailing at the seat of government for the last thirty years, have left these remote regions entirely to the mercy of the desert tribes [304], or their own scarce less lawless lords: in fact, it only excites our astonishment how man can vegetate in such a land, which has nothing but a few sars, or salt-lakes, to yield any profit to the proprietors, and the excellent camel pastures, more especially in the southern tracts, which produce the best breed in the desert.

10. When I penned this conjectural etymology, I was not aware that any speculation had been made upon this word: I find, however, the late M. Langlés suggested the derivation of oasis (variously written by the Greeks αὔασις, ἴασις and υἅσις, ὄασις, [αὔασις is the only other recognized form]) from the Arabic واح: and Dr. Wait, in a series of interesting etymologies (see Asiatic Journal, May 1830), suggests वसि, vasi from वस, vas, ‘to inhabit.’ Vasi and ὕασις quasi vasis are almost identical. My friend, Sir W. Ouseley, gave me nearly the same signification of وادي, Wadi, as appears in Johnson’s edition of Richardson, namely, a valley, a desert, a channel of a river—a river; وادي, wadi-al-kabir, ‘the great river,’ corrupted into Guadalquiver, which example is also given in d’Herbelot (see Vadi Gehennem), and by Thompson, who traces the word water through all the languages of Europe—the Saxon waeter, the Greek ὔδωρ, the Islandic udr, the Slavonic wod (whence woder and oder, ‘a river’): all appear derivable from the Arabic wad, ‘a river’—or the Sanskrit wah; and if Dr. W. will refer to p. 1322 of the Itinerary, he will find a singular confirmation of his etymology in the word bas (classically vas) applied to one of these habitable spots. The word basti, also of frequent occurrence therein, is from basna, to inhabit; vasi, an inhabitant; or vas, a habitation, perhaps derivable from wah, indispensable to an oasis! [The New English Dict. gives Lat. oasis, Greek ὄασις, apparently of Egyptian origin; cf. Coptic ouahe (whence Egyptian Arabic wāh), ‘dwelling-place, oasis,’ from ouih, ‘to dwell.’]

CHAPTER 2

The Chauhān Rāj.

—This sovereignty (raj) of the Chauhans occupies the most remote corner of Rajputana, and its existence is now for the first time noticed. As the quality of greatness as well as goodness is, in a great measure, relative, the Raj of the Chauhans may appear an empire to the lesser chieftains of the desert. Externally, it is environed, on the north and east, by the tracts of the Marwar State we have just been sketching. To the south-east it is bounded by Koliwara, to the south hemmed-in by the Rann, and to the west by the desert of Dhat. Internally, it is partitioned into two distinct governments, the eastern being termed Virawah, and the western from its position ‘across the Luni,’ Parkar;^[1] which appellation, conjoined to Nagar, is also 1276applied to the capital, with the distinction of Srinagar, or metropolis. This is the Negar-Parker of the distinguished Rennel, a place visited at a very early stage of our intercourse with these regions by an enterprising Englishman, named Whittington.^[2]

History of the Chauhāns.

—The Chauhans of this desert boast the great antiquity of their settlement, as well as the nobility of their blood: they have only to refer to Manik Rae and Bisaldeo of Ajmer, and to Prithiraj, the last Hindu sovereign of Delhi, to establish the latter fact; but the first we must leave to conjecture and their bards, though we may [305] fearlessly assert that they were posterior to the Sodhas and other branches of the Pramar race, who to all appearance were its masters when Alexander descended the Indus. Neither is it improbable that the Malli or Mallani, whom he expelled in that corner of the Panjab, wrested ‘the land of Kher’ from the Sodhas. At all events, it is certain that a chain of Chauhan principalities extended, from the eighth to the thirteenth century, from Ajmer to the frontiers of Sind, of which Ajmer, Nadol, Jalor, Sirohi, and Juna-Chhotan were the capitals; and though all of these in their annals claim to be independent, it may be assumed that some kind of obedience was paid to Ajmer. We possess inscriptions which justify this assertion. Moreover, each of them was conspicuous in Muslim history, from the time of the conqueror of Ghazni to that of Alau-d-din, surnamed ‘the second Alexander.’ Mahmud, in his twelfth expedition, by Multan to Ajmer (whose citadel, Ferishta says, “he was compelled to leave in the hands of the enemy”),^[3] passed and sacked Nadol (transliterated Buzule);^[4] and the traditions of the desert have preserved the recollection of his visit to Juna-Chhotan, and they yet point out the mines by which its castle 1277on the rock was destroyed. Whether this was after his visitation and destruction of Nahrvala (Anhilwara Patan), or while on his journey, we have no means of knowing; but when we recollect that in this his last invasion, he attempted to return by Sind, and nearly perished with all his army in the desert, we might fairly suppose his determination to destroy Juna-Chhotan betrayed him into this danger: for besides the all-ruling motive of the conversion or destruction of the ‘infidels,’ in all likelihood the expatriated princes of Nahrvala had sought refuge with the Chauhans amidst the sandhills of Kherdhar, and may thus have fallen into his grasp.

Although nominally a single principality, the chieftain of Parkar pays little, if any, submission to his superior of Virawah. Both of them have the ancient Hindu title of Rana, and are said at least to possess the quality of hereditary valour, which is synonymous with Chauhan. It is unnecessary to particularize the extent in square miles of thal in this raj, or to attempt to number its population, which is so fluctuating; but we shall subjoin a brief account of the chief towns, which will aid in estimating the population of Marusthali. We begin with the first division.

Chief Towns.

—The principal towns in the Chauhan raj are Suigam, Dharanidhar,^[5] Bakhasar, Tharad, Hotiganv, and Chitalwana. Rana Narayan Rao resides alternately at Sui and Bah, both large towns surrounded by an abbatis, chiefly of the babul and other thorny trees, called in these regions kantha-ka-kot, which has given these simple, but very [306] efficient fortifications the term of kantha-ka-kot, or ‘fort of thorns.’ The resources of Narayan Rao, derived from this desert domain, are said to be three lakhs of rupees, of which he pays a triennial tribute of one lakh to Jodhpur, to which no right exists, and which is rarely realized without an army. The tracts watered by the Luni yield good crops of the richer grains; and although, in the dry season, there is no constant stream, plenty of sweet water is procured by excavating wells in its bed. But it is asserted that, even when not continuous, a gentle current is perceptible in those detached portions or pools, filtrating under the porous sand: a phenomenon 1278remarked in the bed of the Kunwari River (in the district of Gwalior), where, after a perfectly dry space of several miles, we have observed in the next portion of water a very perceptible current.^[6]

Nagar Pārkar.

—Nagar, or Srinagar, the capital of Parkar, is a town containing fifteen hundred houses, of which, in 1814, one-half were inhabited. There is a small fort to the south-west of the town on the ridge, which is said to be about two hundred feet high. There are wells and beras (reservoirs) in abundance. The river Luni is called seven coss south of Nagar, from which we may infer that its bed is distinctly to be traced through the Rann. The chief of Parkar assumes the title of Rana, as well as his superior of Virawah whose allegiance he has entirely renounced, though we are ignorant of the relation in which they ever stood to each other: all are of the same family, the Hapa-Raj, of which Juna-Chhotan was the capital.

Bakhasar.

—Bakhasar ranks next to Srinagar. It was at no distant period a large and, for the desert, a flourishing town; but now (1814) it contains but three hundred and sixty inhabited dwellings. A son of the Nagar chief resides here, who enjoys, as well as his father, the title of Rana. We shall make no further mention of the inferior towns, as they will appear in the itinerary.

Tharād.

—Tharad is another subdivision of the Chauhans of the Luni whose chief town of the same name is but a few coss to the east of Suigam, and which like Parkar is but nominally dependent upon it. With this we shall conclude the subject of Virawah, which, we repeat, may contain many errors.

Face of the Chauhān Rāj.

—As the itinerary will point out in detail the state of the country, it would be superfluous to attempt a more minute description here. The same sterile ridge, already described as passing through Chhotan to Jaisalmer, is to be [307] traced two coss west of Bakhasar, and thence to Nagar, in detached masses. The tracts on both banks of the Luni yield good crops of wheat and the richer grains, and Virawah, though enclosing considerable thal, has a good portion of flat, especially towards Radhanpur, seventeen coss from Sui. Beyond the 1279Luni, the thal rises into lofty tibas: and indeed from Chhotan to Bakhasar, all is sterile, and consists of lofty sandhills and broken ridges often covered by the sands.

Water Production.

—Throughout the Chauhan raj, or at least its most habitable portion, water is obtained at a moderate distance from the surface, the wells being from ten to twenty pursas,^[7] or about sixty-five to a hundred and thirty feet in depth; nothing, when compared with those in Dhat, sometimes near seven hundred. Besides wheat, on the Luni, the oil-plant (til), mung, moth, and other pulses, with bajra, are produced in sufficient quantities for internal consumption; but plunder is the chief pursuit throughout this land, in which the lordly Chauhan and the Koli menial vie in dexterity. Wherever the soil is least calculated for agriculture, there is often abundance of fine pasture, especially for camels, which browse upon a variety of thorny shrubs. Sheep and goats are also in great numbers, and bullocks and horses of a very good description, which find a ready sale at the Tilwara fair.

Inhabitants.

—We must describe the descendants, whether of the Malli, foe of Alexander, or of the no less heroic Prithiraj, as a community of thieves, who used to carry their raids into Sind, Gujarat, and Marwar, to avenge themselves on private property for the wrongs they suffered from the want of all government, or the oppression of those (Jodhpur) who asserted supremacy over, and the right to plunder them. All classes are to be found in the Chauhan raj: but those predominate, the names of whose tribes are synonyms for ‘robber,’ as the Sahariya, Khosa, Koli, Bhil. Although the Chauhan is lord-paramount, a few of whom are to be found in every village, yet the Koli and Bhil tribe, with another class called Pital,^[8] are the most numerous: the last named, though equally low in caste, is the only industrious class in this region. Besides cultivation, they make a trade of the gums, which they collect in great quantities from the various trees whose names have been already mentioned. The Chauhans, 1280like most of these remote Rajput tribes, dispense with the zunnar^[9] or janeo, the distinctive thread of a ‘twice-born tribe,’ and are altogether free from [308] the prejudices of those whom association with Brahmans has bound down with chains of iron. But to make amends for this laxity in ceremonials, there is a material amendment in their moral character, in comparison with the Chauhans of the purab (east); for here the unnatural law of infanticide is unknown, in spite of the examples of their neighbours, the Jarejas, amongst whom it prevails to the most frightful extent. In eating, they have no prejudices; they make no chauka, or fireplace; their cooks are generally of the barber (Nai) tribe, and what is left at one meal, they, contrary to all good manners, tie up and eat at the next.

Kolis and Bhils.

—The first is the most numerous class in these regions, and may be ranked with the most degraded portion of the human species. Although they puja all the symbols of Hindu worship, and chiefly the terrific Mata, they scoff at all laws, human or divine, and are little superior to the brutes of their own forests. To them every thing edible is lawful food; cows, buffaloes, the camel, deer, hog; nor do they even object to such as have died a natural death. Like the other debased tribes, they affect to have Rajput blood, and call themselves Chauhan Koli, Rathor Koli, Parihar Koli, etc., which only tends to prove their illegitimate descent from the aboriginal Koli stock. Almost all the cloth-weavers throughout India are of the Koli class, though they endeavour to conceal their origin under the term Julaha, which ought only to distinguish the Muslim weaver.^[10] The Bhils partake of all the vices of the Kolis, and perhaps descend one step lower in the scale of humanity; for they will feed on vermin of any kind, foxes, jackals, rats, guanas,^[11] and snakes; and although they make an exception of the camel and the pea-fowl, the latter being sacred to Mata, the goddess they propitiate, yet in moral degradation their fellowship is complete. The Kolis and Bhils have no matrimonial intercourse, nor will they even eat with each other—such is caste! The bow 1281and arrow form their arms, occasionally swords, but rarely the matchlock.

Pital is the chief husbandman of this region, and, with the Bania, the only respectable class. They possess flocks, and are also cultivators, and are said to be almost as numerous as either the Bhils or Kolis. The Pital is reputed synonymous with the Kurmi of Hindustan and the Kulambi of Malwa and the Deccan. There are other tribes, such as the Rabari, or rearer of camels, who will be described with the classes appertaining to the whole desert.

Dhāt and Umrasūmra.

—We now take leave of Rajputana, as it is, for the desert depending upon Sind, or that space between the frontier of Rajputana to the valley [309] of the Indus, on the west, and from Daudputra north, to Baliari on the Rann.^[12] This space measures about two hundred and twenty miles of longitude, and its greatest breadth is eighty; it is one entire thal, having but few villages, though there are many hamlets of shepherds sprinkled over it, too ephemeral to have a place in the map. A few of these puras and vas, as they are termed, where the springs are perennial, have a name assigned to them, but to multiply them would only mislead, as they exist no longer than the vegetation. The whole of this tract may be characterized as essentially desert, having spaces of fifty miles without a drop of water, and without great precaution, impassable. The sandhills rise into little mountains, and the wells are so deep, that with a large kafila, many might die before the thirst of all could be slaked. The enumeration of a few of these will put the reader in possession of one of the difficulties of a journey through Maru; they range from eleven to seventy-five pursa, or seventy to five hundred feet in depth. One at Jaisinghdesar, fifty pursa; Dhot-ki-basti, sixty; Girab, sixty; Hamirdeora, seventy; Jinjiniali, seventy-five; Chailak, seventy-five to eighty.

The Horrors of Humāyūn’s March.

—In what vivid colours does the historian Ferishta describe the miseries of the fugitive emperor, Humayun, and his faithful followers, at one of these wells! “The country through which they fled being an entire desert of sand, the Moguls were in the utmost distress for water: some ran mad; others fell down dead. For three whole days 1282there was no water; on the fourth day they came to a well, which was so deep that a drum was beaten, to give notice to the man driving the bullocks, that the bucket had reached the top; but the unhappy followers were so impatient for drink, that, so soon as the first bucket appeared, several threw themselves upon it, before it had quite reached the surface, and fell in. The next day, they arrived at a brook, and the camels, which had not tasted water for several days, were allowed to quench their thirst; but, having drunk to excess, several of them died. The king, after enduring unheard-of miseries, at length reached Omurkote with only a few attendants. The Raja, who has the title of Rana, took compassion on his misfortunes, and spared nothing that could alleviate his sufferings, or console him in his distress.”—Briggs’ Ferishta, vol. ii. p. 93.^[13]

We are now in the very region where Humayun suffered these miseries, and in its chief town, Umarkot, Akbar, the greatest monarch India ever knew, first saw the light. Let us throw aside the veil which conceals the history of the race of Humayun’s protector, and notwithstanding he is now but nominal sovereign of Umarkot, and lord [310] of the village of Chor,^[14] give him “a local habitation and a name,” even in the days of the Macedonian invader of India.

Dhāt.

—Dhat,^[15] of which Umarkot is the capital, was one of the divisions of Marusthali, which from time immemorial was subject to the Pramar. Amongst the thirty-five tribes of this the most numerous of the races called Agnikula, were the Sodha, the Umar, and the Sumra;^[16] and the conjunction of the two last has given a distinctive appellation to the more northern thal, still known as Umarsumra, though many centuries have fled since they possessed any power.

Aror, Umarsūmra.

—Aror, of which we have already narrated 1283the discovery, and which is laid down in the map about six miles east of Bakhar on the Indus, was in the region styled Umarsumra, which may once have had a much wider acceptation, when a dynasty of thirty-six princes of the Sumra tribe ruled all these countries during five hundred years.^[17] On the extinction of its power, and the restoration of their ancient rivals, the Sind-Samma princes, who in their turn gave way to the Bhattis, this tract obtained the epithet of Bhattipoh; but the ancient and more legitimate name, Umarsumra, is yet recognized, and many hamlets of shepherds, both of Umars and Sumras, are still existing amidst its sandhills. To them we shall return, after discussing their elder brethren, the Sodhas. We can trace the colonization of the Bhattis, the Chawaras, and the Solankis, the Guhilots, and the Rathors, throughout all these countries, both of central and western Rajputana; and wherever we go, whatever new capital is founded, it is always on the site of a Pramar establishment. Pirthi tain na Pramar ka, or ‘the world is the Pramars,’^[18] I may here repeat, is hardly hyperbolical when applied to the Rajput world.

Aror.

—Aror, or Alor as written by Abu-l Fazl, and described by that celebrated geographer, Ibn-Haukal, as “rivalling Multan in greatness,” was one of the ‘nine divisions of Maru’ governed by the Pramar, of which we must repeat, one of the chief branches was the Sodha. The islandic Bakhar, or Mansura (so named by the lieutenant of the Khalif Al-Mansur), a few miles west of Aror, is considered as the capital of the Sogdoi, when Alexander sailed down the Indus,^[19] and if we couple the similarity of name to the well-authenticated fact of immemorial sovereignty over this region, it might not be drawing too largely on credulity to suggest that the Sogdoi and Soda are one and [311] the same.^[20] The Sodha 1284princes were the patriarchs of the desert when the Bhattis immigrated thither from the north: but whether they deprived them of Aror as well as Lodorva, the chronicle does not intimate. It is by no means unlikely that the Umars and Sumras, instead of being coequal or coeval branches with the Sodha, may be merely subdivisions of them.

We may follow Abu-l Fazl and Ferishta in their summaries of the history of ancient Sind, and these races. The former says: “In former times, there lived a Rāja named Siharas, whose capital was Alor. His sway extended eastward, as far as Kashmīr and towards the sea to Mekrān, while the sea confined it on the south and the mountains to the north. An invading army entered the country from Persia, in opposing which the Rāja lost his life. The invaders, contenting themselves with devastating part of the territory, returned. Rāē Sahi,^[21] the Rāja’s son, succeeded his 1285father, by whose enlightened wisdom and the aid of his intelligent minister Rām, justice was universally administered and the repose of the country secured.... In the caliphate of Walīd bin Abdu’l Malik, when Hajjāj was governor of Irāk, he dispatched on his own authority Muhammad Kāsim, his cousin and son-in-law, to Sind, who fought Dāhir in several engagements.... After Muhammad Kāsim’s death, the sovereignty of this country devolved on the descendants of the Banu Tamīm Ansāri. They were succeeded by the Sūmrah race, who established their rule, and were followed by the Sammas, who asserted their descent from Jamshīd, and each of them assumed the name of Jām.”^[22]

Ferishta gives a similar version. “On the death of Mahomed Kasim, a tribe who trace their origin from the Ansarias established a government in Sind; after which the zamindars [lords of the soil or indigenous chiefs], denominated in their country Soomura, usurped the power, and held independent rule over the kingdom of Sinde for the space of five hundred years. These [312], the Soomuras, subverted the country of another dynasty called Soomuna [the Samma of Abu-l Fazl], whose chief assumed the title of Jam.”^[23]

The difficulty of establishing the identity of these tribes from the cacography of both the Greek and Persian writers, is well exemplified in another portion of Ferishta, treating of the same race, called by him Soomuna, and Samma by Abu-l Fazl. “The tribe of Sahna appears to be of obscure origin, and originally to have occupied the tract lying between Bekher and Tatta in Sinde, and pretend to trace their origin from Jemshid.” We can pardon his spelling for his exact location of the tribe, which, whether written Soomuna, Sehna, or Seemeh, is the Summa or Samma tribe of the great Yadu race, whose capital was Summa-ka-kot, or Sammanagari, converted into Minnagara, and its princes into Sambas, by the Greeks.^[24] Thus the Sodhas appear to have ruled 1286at Aror and Bakhar, or Upper Sind, and the Sammas in the lower,^[25] when Alexander passed through this region. The Jarejas and Jams of Navanagar in Saurashtra claim descent from the Sammas, hence called elsewhere by Abu-l Fazl “the Sind-Samma dynasty”; but having been, from their amalgamation with the ‘faithful,’ put out of the pale of Hinduism, they desired to conceal their Samma-Yadu descent, which they abandoned for Jamshid, and Samma was converted into Jam.^[26]

We may, therefore, assume that a prince of the Sodha tribe held that division of the great Puar sovereignty, of which Aror, or the insular Bakhar, was the capital, when Alexander passed down the Indus: nor is it improbable that the army, styled Persian by Abu-l Fazl, which invaded Aror, and slew Raja Siharas, was a Graeco-Bactrian army led by Apollodotus, or Menander, who traversed this region, “ruled by Sigertides” (qu. Raja Siharas?) even to “the country of the Σῶρα,” or Saurashtra,^[27] where, according to their historian, their medals were existent when he wrote in the second century.^[28] The histories so largely quoted give us decided proof that Dahir, and his son [313] Raesa, the victims of the first Islamite invasion led by Kasim, were of the same lineage as Raja 1287Siharas; and the Bhatti annals prove to demonstration, that at this, the very period of their settling in the desert, the Sodha tribe was paramount (see p. 1185); which, together with the strong analogies in names of places and princes, affords a very reasonable ground for the conclusion we have come to, that the Sodha tribe of Puar race was in possession of Upper Sind, when the Macedonian passed down the stream; and that, amidst all the vicissitudes of fortune, it has continued (contesting possession with its ancient Yadu antagonist, the Samma) to maintain some portion of its ancient sovereignty unto these days. Of this portion we shall now instruct the reader, after hazarding a passing remark on the almost miraculous tenacity which has preserved this race in its desert abode during a period of at least two thousand two hundred years,^[29] bidding defiance to foreign foes, whether Greek, Bactrian, or Muhammadan, and even to those visitations of nature, famines, pestilence, and earthquakes, which have periodically swept over the land, and at length rendered it the scene of desolation it now presents; for in this desert, as in that of Egypt, tradition records that its increase has been and still is progressive, as well in the valley of the Indus as towards the Jumna.

Umarkot.

—This stronghold (kot) of the Umars, until a very few years back, was the capital of the Sodha Raj, which extended, two centuries ago, into the valley of Sind, and east to the Luni; but the Rathors of Marwar, and the family at present ruling Sind, have together reduced the sovereignty of the Sodhas to a very confined spot, and thrust out of Umarkot (the last of the nine castles of Maru) the descendant of Siharas, who, from Aror, held dominions extending from Kashmir to the ocean. Umarkot has sadly fallen from its ancient grandeur, and instead of the five thousand houses it contained during the opulence of the Sodha princes, it hardly reckons two hundred and fifty houses, or rather huts.^[30] The old castle is to the north-west of the town. It is 1288built of brick, and the bastions, said to be eighteen in number, are of stone. It has an inner citadel, or rather a fortified palace. There is an old canal to the north of the fort, in which water still lodges part of the year. When Raja Man [314] had possession of Umarkot, he founded several villages thereunto, to keep up the communication. The Talpuris then found it to their interest, so long as they had any alarms from their own lord paramount of Kandahar, to court the Rathor prince; but when civil war appeared in that region, as well as in Marwar, the cessation of all fears from the one, banished the desire of paying court to the other, and Umarkot was unhappily placed between the Kalhoras of Sind and the Rathors, each of whom looked upon this frontier post as the proper limit of his sway, and contended for its possession. We shall therefore give an account of a feud between these rivals, which finally sealed the fate of the Sodha prince, and which may contribute something to the history of the ruling family of Sind, still imperfectly known.

The Fate of the Sodha Tribe. Assassination of Mīr Bijar.

—When Bijai Singh ruled Marwar, Miyan Nur Muhammad, Kalhora, governed Sind; but being expelled by an army from Kandahar, he fled to Jaisalmer, where he died. The eldest son, Antar Khan, and his brothers, found refuge with Bahadur Khan Khairani; while a natural brother, named Ghulam Shah, born of a common prostitute, found means to establish himself on the masnad at Haidarabad. The chiefs of Daudputra espoused the cause of Antar Khan, and prepared to expel the usurper. Bahadur Khan, Sabzal Khan, Ali Murad, Muhammad Khan, Kaim Khan, Ali Khan, chiefs of the Khairani tribe, united, and marched with Antar Khan to Haidarabad. Ghulam Shah advanced to meet him, and the brothers encountered at Ubaura ^[31] (see map); but legitimacy failed: the Khairani chiefs almost all perished, and Antar Khan was made prisoner, and confined for life in Gaja-ka-kot, an island in the Indus, seven coss south of Haidarabad. Ghulam Shah transmitted his masnad to his son Sarfaraz, who, dying soon after, was succeeded by Abdul Nabi. At the town of Abhaipura, seven coss east of Sheodadpur (a town in Lohri Sind), resided a chieftain of the Talpuri tribe, a branch of the Baloch, named Goram, who had two sons, named Bijar and Sobhdan. Sarfaraz demanded Goram’s daughter to wife; he was refused, 1289and the whole family was destroyed. Bijar Khan, who alone escaped the massacre, raised his clan to avenge him, deposed the tyrant, and placed himself upon the masnad of Haidarabad. The Kalhoras dispersed; but Bijar, who was of a violent and imperious temperament, became involved in hostilities with the Rathors regarding the possession of Umarkot. It is asserted that he not only demanded tribute from Marwar, but a daughter of the Rathor prince, to wife, setting forth as a precedent his grandfather Ajit, who bestowed a wife on Farrukhsiyar. This insult led to a pitched battle, fought at Dugara, five coss from Dharnidhar, in which the Baloch [315] army was fairly beaten from the field by the Rathor; but Bijai Singh, not content with his victory, determined to be rid of this thorn in his side. A Bhatti and Chondawat offered their services, and lands being settled on their families, they set out on this perilous enterprise in the garb of ambassadors. When introduced to Bijar, he arrogantly demanded if the Raja had thought better of his demand, when the Chondawat referred him to his credentials. As Bijar rapidly ran his eye over it, muttering “no mention of the dola (bride),” the dagger of the Chondawat was buried in his heart. “This for the dola,” he exclaimed; and “this for the tribute,” said his comrade, as he struck another blow. Bijar fell lifeless on his cushion of state, and the assassins, who knew escape was hopeless, plied their daggers on all around; the Chondawat slaying twenty-one, and the Bhatti five, before they were hacked to pieces.^[32] The nephew of Bijar Khan, by name Fateh Ali, son of Sobhdan, was chosen his successor, and the old family of Kalhora was dispersed to Bhuj, and Rajputana, while its representative repaired to Kandahar. There the Shah put him at the head of an army of twenty-five thousand men, with which he reconquered Sind, and commenced a career of unexampled cruelty. Fateh Ali, who had fled to Bhuj, reassembled his adherents, attacked the army of the Shah, which he defeated and pursued with great slaughter beyond Shikarpur, of which he took possession, and returned in triumph to Haidarabad. The cruel and now humbled Kalhora once more appeared before the Shah, who, exasperated at the inglorious result of his arms, drove him from his presence; and after wandering 1290about, he passed from Multan to Jaisalmer, settling at length at Pokaran, where he died. The Pokaran chief made himself his heir, and it is from the great wealth (chiefly in jewels) of the ex-prince of Sind that its chiefs have been enabled to take the lead in Marwar. The tomb of the exile is on the north side of the town [316].^[33]

This episode, which properly belongs to the history of Marwar, or to Sind, is introduced for the purpose of showing the influence of the latter on the destinies of the Sodha princes. It was by Bijar, who fell by the emissaries of Bijai Singh, that the Sodha Raja was driven from Umarkot, the possession of which brought the Sindis into immediate collision with the Bhattis and Rathors. But on his assassination and the defeat of the Sind army on the Rann, Bijai Singh reinducted the Sodha prince to his gaddi of Umarkot; not, however, long to retain it, for on the invasion from Kandahar, this poor country underwent a general massacre and pillage by the Afghans, and Umarkot was assaulted and taken. When Fateh Ali made head against the army of Kandahar, which he was enabled to defeat, partly by the aid of the Rathors, he 1291relinquished, as the price of this aid, the claims of Sind upon Umarkot, of which Bijai Singh took possession, and on whose battlements the flag of the Rathors waved until the last civil war, when the Sindis expelled them. Had Raja Man known how to profit by the general desire of his chiefs to redeem this distant possession, he might have got rid of some of the unquiet spirits by other means than those which have brought infamy on his name.

Chor.

—Since Umarkot has been wrested from the Sodhas, the expelled prince, who still preserves his title of Rana, resides at the town of Chor, fifteen miles north-east of his former capital. The descendant of the princes who probably opposed Alexander, Menander, and Kasim, the lieutenant of Walid, and who sheltered Humayun when driven from the throne of India, now subsists on the eleemosynary gifts of those with whom he is connected by marriage, or the few patches of land of his own desert domain left him by the rulers of Sind. He has eight brothers, who are hardly pushed for a subsistence, and can only obtain it by the supplement to all the finances of these States, plunder.

The Sodha, and the Jareja, are the connecting links between the Hindu and the Muslim; for although the farther west we go the greater is the laxity of Rajput prejudice, yet to something more than mere locality must be attributed the denationalized sentiment which allows the Sodha to intermarry with a Sindi: this cause is hunger; and there are few zealots who will deny that its influence is more potent than the laws of Manu. Every third year brings famine, and those who have not stored up against it fly to their neighbours, and chiefly to the valley of the Indus. The [317] connexions they then form often end in the union of their daughters with their protectors; but they still so far adhere to ancient usage as never to receive back into the family caste a female so allied.^[34] The present Rana of the Sodhas has set the example, by giving daughters to Mir Ghulam Ali and Mir Sohrab, and even to the Khosa chief of Dadar; and in consequence, his brother princes of Jaisalmer, Bah and Parkar, though they will 1292accept a Sodha princess to wife (because they can depend on the purity of her blood), yet will not bestow a daughter on the Rana, whose offspring might perhaps grace the harem of a Baloch. But the Rathors of Marwar will neither give to nor receive daughters of Dhat. The females of this desert region, being reputed very handsome, have become almost an article of matrimonial traffic; and it is asserted, that if a Sindi hears of the beauty of a Dhatiani, he sends to her father as much grain as he deems an equivalent, and is seldom refused her hand. We shall not here further touch on the manners or other peculiarities of the Sodha tribe, though we may revert to them in the general outline of the tribes, with which we shall conclude the sketch of the Indian desert.

Tribes.

—The various tribes inhabiting the desert and valley of the Indus would alone form an ample subject of investigation, which would, in all probability, elicit some important truths. Amongst the converts to Islam the inquirer into the pedigree of nations would discover names, once illustrious, but which, now hidden under the mantle of a new faith, might little aid his researches into the history of their origin. He would find the Sodha, the Kathi, the Mallani, affording in history, position, and nominal resemblance grounds for inferring that they are the descendants of the Sogdoi, Kathi, and Malloi, who opposed the Macedonian in his passage down the Indus; besides swarms of Getae or Yuti, many of whom have assumed the general title of Baloch, or retain the ancient specific name of Numri; while others, in that of Zj’at [Jat], preserve almost the primitive appellation. We have also the remains of those interesting races the Johyas and Dahyas, of which much has been said in the Annals of Jaisalmer, and elsewhere; who, as well as the Getae or Jats, and Huns, hold places amongst the “Thirty-six Royal Races” of ancient India.^[35] These, with the Barahas and the Lohanas, tribes who swarmed a few centuries ago in the Panjab, will now only be discerned in small numbers in “the region of death,” which has even preserved the illustrious name of Kaurava, Krishna’s foe in the Bharat. The Sahariya, or great robber of our western desert, would alone afford a text for discussion on his habits [318] and his raids, as the enemy of all society. But we shall begin with those who yet retain any pretensions to the name of Hindu (distinguishing them from the proselytes to Islam), and afterwards descant upon their 1293peculiarities. Bhatti, Rathor, Jodha, Chauhan, Mallani, Kaurava, Johya, Sultana, Lohana, Arora, Khumra, Sindhal, Maisuri, Vaishnavi, Jakhar, Asaich, Punia.

Of the Muhammadan there are but two, Kalhora and Sahariya, concerning whose origin any doubt exists, and all those we are about to specify are Nayyads,^[36] or proselytes chiefly from Rajput or other Hindu tribes:

Zjat; Rajar; Umra; Sumra; Mair, or Mer; Mor, or Mohor; Baloch; Lumria, or Luka; Samaicha; Mangalia; Bagria; Dahya; Johya; Kairui; Jangaria; Undar; Berawi; Bawari; Tawari; Charandia; Khosa; Sadani; Lohanas.

The Nayyāds.

—Before we remark upon the habits of these tribes, we may state one prominent trait which characterizes the Nayyad, or convert to Islam, who, on parting with his original faith, divested himself of its chief moral attribute, toleration, and imbibed a double portion of the bigotry of the creed he adopted. Whether it is to the intrinsic quality of the Muhammadan faith that we are to trace this moral metamorphosis, or to a sense of degradation (which we can hardly suppose) consequent on his apostasy, there is not a more ferocious or intolerant being on the earth than the Rajput convert to Islam. In Sind, and the desert, we find the same tribes, bearing the same name, one still Hindu, the other Muhammadan; the first retaining his primitive manners, while the convert is cruel, intolerant, cowardly, and inhospitable. Escape, with life at least, perhaps a portion of property, is possible from the hands of the Maldot, the Larkhani, the Bhatti, or even the Tawaris, distinctively called “the sons of the devil”; but from the Khosas, the Sahariyas, or Bhattis, there would be no hope of salvation. Such are their ignorance and brutality, that should a stranger make use of the words rassa, or rasta (rope, and road), he will be fortunate if he escape with bastinado from these beings, who discover therein an analogy to rasul, or ‘the prophet’: he must for the former use the words kilbar, randori, and for the latter, dagra, or dag.^[37] It will not fail to strike those who have 1294perused the heart-thrilling adventures of Park, Denham, and Clapperton—names which will live for ever in the annals of discovery—how completely the inoffensive, kind, and hospitable negro resembles in these qualities the Rajput, who is transformed into a wild beast the moment he can repeat, “Ashhadu an lā ilāha illa allāh! [319] Ashhadu anna Muhammad rasūlu-llāh,” “there is but one God, and Muhammad is the prophet of God”: while a remarkable change has taken place amongst the Tatar tribes, since the anti-destructive doctrines of Buddha (or Hinduism purified of polytheism) have been introduced into the regions of Central Asia.

On the Bhattis, the Rathors, the Chauhans, and their offset the Mallani, we have sufficiently expatiated, and likewise on the Sodha; but a few peculiarities of this latter tribe remain to be noticed.

The Sodha Tribe.

—The Sodha, who has retained the name of Hindu, has yet so far discarded ancient prejudice, that he will drink from the same vessel and smoke out of the same hukka with a Musalman, laying aside only the tube that touches the mouth. With his poverty, the Sodha has lost his reputation for courage, retaining only the merit of being a dexterous thief, and joining the hordes of Sahariyas and Khosas who prowl from Daudputra to Gujarat. The arms of the Sodhas are chiefly the sword and shield, with a long knife in the girdle, which serves either as a stiletto or a carver for his meat: few have matchlocks, but the primitive sling is a general weapon of offence, and they are very expert in its use. Their dress partakes of the Bhatti and Muhammadan costume, but the turban is peculiar to themselves, and by it a Sodha may always be recognized. The Sodha is to be found scattered over the desert, but there are offsets of his tribe, now more numerous than the parent stock, of which the Samecha is the most conspicuous, whether of those who are still Hindu, or who have become converts to Islam.

The Kaurava Tribe.

—This singular tribe of Rajputs, whose habits, even in the midst of pillage, are entirely nomadic, is to be found chiefly in the thal of Dhat, though in no great numbers.^[38] They have no fixed habitations, but move about with their flocks, and encamp wherever they find a spring or pasture for their cattle; and there construct temporary huts of the wide-spreading 1295pilu,^[39] by interlacing its living branches, covering the top with leaves, and coating the inside with clay: in so skilful a manner do they thus shelter themselves that no sign of human habitation is observable from without. Still the roaming Sahariya is always on the look-out for these sylvan retreats, in which the shepherds deposit their little hoards of grain, raised from the scanty patches around them. The restless disposition of the Kauravas, who even among their ever-roaming brethren enjoy a species of fame in this respect, is attributed (said my Dhati) to a curse entailed upon them from remote ages. They rear camels, cows, buffaloes, and goats, which they sell to the Charans and other merchants. They are altogether a singularly peaceable race; and like all their Rajput brethren, can at will [320] people the desert with palaces of their own creation, by the delightful amal-pani, the universal panacea for ills both moral and physical.

The Dhāti Tribe.

—Dhat, or Dhati, is another Rajput, inhabiting Dhat, and in no greater numbers than the Kauravas, whom they resemble in their habits, being entirely pastoral, cultivating a few patches of land, and trusting to the heavens alone to bring it forward. They barter the ghi or clarified butter, made from the produce of their flocks, for grain and other necessaries of life. Rabri and chhachh, or ‘porridge and buttermilk,’ form the grand fare of the desert. A couple of sers of flour of bajra, juar, and khejra is mixed with some sers of chhachh, and exposed to the fire, but not boiled, and this mess will suffice for a large family. The cows of the desert are much larger than those of the plains of India, and give from eight to ten sers (eight or ten quarts) of milk daily. The produce of four cows will amply subsist a family of ten persons from the sale of ghi; and their prices vary with their productive powers, from ten to fifteen rupees each. The rabri, so analogous to the kouskous of the African desert, is often made with camel’s milk, from which ghi cannot be extracted, and which soon becomes a living mass when put aside. Dried fish, from the valley of Sind, is conveyed into the desert on horses or camels, and finds a ready sale amongst all classes, even as far east as Barmer. It is sold at two dukras (coppers) a ser. The puras, or temporary hamlets of the Dhatis, consisting at most of ten huts in each, resemble those of the Kauravas.

The Lohāna Tribe.

—This tribe is numerous both in Dhat and 1296Talpura: formerly they were Rajputs, but betaking themselves to commerce, have fallen into the third class. They are scribes and shopkeepers, and object to no occupation that will bring a subsistence; and as to food, to use the expressive idiom of this region, where hunger spurns at law, “excepting their cats and their cows, they will eat anything.”^[40]

The Arora Tribe.

—This class, like the former, apply themselves to every pursuit, trade, and agriculture, and fill many of the inferior offices of government in Sind, being shrewd, industrious, and intelligent. With the thrifty Arora and many other classes, flour steeped in cold water suffices to appease hunger. Whether this class has its name from being an inhabitant of Aror, we know not.^[41]

The Bhātia Tribe.

—Bhatia is also one of the equestrian order converted into the commercial, and the exchange has been to his advantage. His habits are like those of the Arora, next to whom he ranks as to activity and wealth. The Aroras and Bhatias have commercial houses at Shikarpur, Haidarabad, and even at Surat and Jaipur [321].^[42]

Brāhmans.

—Bishnoi is the most common sect of Brahmans in the desert and Sind. The doctrines of Manu with them go for as much as they are worth in the desert, where “they are a law unto themselves.” They wear the janeo, or badge of their tribe, but it here ceases to be a mark of clerical distinction, as no drones are respected; they cultivate, tend cattle, and barter their superfluous ghi for other necessaries. They are most numerous in Dhat, having one hundred of their order in Chor, the residence of the Sodha Rana, and several houses in Umarkot, Dharnas, and Mitti.^[43] They do not touch fish or smoke tobacco, but will eat food dressed by the hands of a Mali (gardener), or even a Nai (barber caste); nor do they use the chauka, or fireplace, reckoned 1297indispensable in more civilized regions. Indeed, all classes of Hindus throughout Sind will partake of food dressed in the sarai, or inn, by the hands of the Bhathiyarin. They use indiscriminately each other’s vessels, without any process of purification but a little sand and water. They do not even burn their dead, but bury them near the threshold; and those who can afford it, raise small chabutras, or altars, on which they place an image of Siva, and a ghara, or jar of water. The janeo, or thread which marks the sacerdotal character in Hindustan, is common in these regions to all classes, with the exception of Kolis and Lohanas. This practice originated with their governors, in order to discriminate them from those who have to perform the most servile duties.^[44]

The Rabāri Tribe.

—This term is known throughout Hindustan only as denoting persons employed in rearing and tending camels, who are there always Muslims. Here they are a distinct tribe, and Hindus, employed entirely in rearing camels, or in stealing them, in which they evince a peculiar dexterity, uniting with the Bhattis in the practice as far as Daudputra. When they come upon a herd grazing, the boldest and most experienced strikes his lance into the first he reaches, then dips a cloth in the blood, which at the end of his lance he thrusts close to the nose of the next, and wheeling about, sets off at speed, followed by the whole herd, lured by the scent of blood and the example of their leader.^[45]

Jat Tribes.

—Jakhar, Asaich, Punia are all denominations of the Jat race, a few of whom preserve under these ancient subdivisions their old customs and religion; but the greater part are among the converts to Islam, and retain the generic name, pronounced Zjat. Those enumerated are harmless and industrious, and are found both in the desert and valley. There are besides these a few scattered families of ancient tribes [322], as the Sultana ^[46] and Khumra, of whose history we are ignorant, 1298Johyas, Sindhals, and others, whose origin has already been noticed in the Annals of Marusthali.

We shall now leave this general account of the Hindu tribes, who throughout Sind are subservient to the will of the Muhammadan, who is remarkable, as before observed, for intolerance. The Hindu is always second: at the well, he must wait patiently until his tyrant has filled his vessel; or if, in cooking his dinner, a Muslim should require fire, it must be given forthwith, or the shoe would be applied to the Hindu’s head.

The Sahariya Tribe.

—The Sahariya is the most numerous of the Muhammadan tribes of the desert, said to be Hindu in origin, and descendants of the ancient dynasty of Aror; but whether his descent is derived from the dynasty of Siharas (written Sahir by Pottinger), or from the Arabic word sahra, ‘a desert,’ of which he is the terror, is of very little moment.^[47]

The Khosa Tribe.

—The Kosas or Khosas, etc., are branches of the Sahariya, and their habits are the same. They have reduced their mode of rapine to a system, and established kuri, or blackmail, consisting of one rupee and five daris of grain for every plough, exacted even from the hamlets of the shepherds throughout the thal. Their bands are chiefly mounted on camels, though some are on horseback; their arms are the sel or sang (lances of bamboo or iron), the sword and shield, and but few firearms. Their depredations used to be extended a hundred coss around, even into Jodhpur and Daudputra, but they eschew coming in contact with the Rajput, who says of a Sahariya, “he is sure to be asleep when the battle nakkara beats.” Their chief abode is in the southern portion of the desert; and about Nawakot, Mitti, as far as Baliari.^[48] Many of them used to find service at Udaipur, Jodhpur, and Suigam, but they are cowardly and faithless.

The Samaicha Tribe.

—Samaicha is one of the nayyad, or proselytes to Islam from the Sodha race, and numerous both in the thal and the valley, where they have many puras or hamlets. They resemble the Dhatis in their habits, but many of them associate with the Sahariyas, and plunder their brethren. They 1299never shave or touch the hair of their heads, and consequently look more like brutes than human beings. They allow no animal to die of disease, but kill it when they think there are no hopes of recovery. The Samaicha women have the reputation of being great scolds, and never veil their faces [323].

The Rājar Tribe.

—They are said to be of Bhatti descent, and confine their haunts to the desert, or the borders of Jaisalmer, as at Ramgarh, Kiala, Jarela, etc.; and the thal between Jaisalmer and Upper Sind: they are cultivators, shepherds, and thieves, and are esteemed amongst the very worst of the converts to Muhammadanism.^[49]

The Umar Sūmra Tribe.

—Umars and Sumras are from the Pramar or Puar race, and are now chiefly in the ranks of the faithful, though a few are to be found in Jaisalmer and in the thal called after them; of whom we have already said enough.^[50]

The Kalhora, Tālpuri Tribes.

—Kalhora and Talpuri are tribes of celebrity in Sind, the first having furnished the late, and the other its present, dynasty of rulers; and though the one has dared to deduce its origin from the Abbasides of Persia, and the other has even advanced pretensions to descent from the Prophet, it is asserted that both are alike Baloch, who are said to be essentially Jat or Gete in origin. The Talpuris, who have their name from the town (pura) of palms (tal or tar), are said to amount to one-fourth of the population of Lori or Little Sind, which misnomer they affix to the dominion of Haidarabad. There are none in the thal.

Nūmri, Lūmri, or Lūka Tribe.

—This is also a grand subdivision of the Baloch race, and is mentioned by Abu-l Fazl as ranking next to the Kulmani, and being able to bring into the field three hundred cavalry and seven thousand infantry. Gladwin has rendered the name Nomurdy, and is followed by Rennel.^[51] The Numris, or Lumris, also styled Luka, a still more familiar term for fox,^[52] are likewise affirmed to be Jat in origin. What is the etymology of the generic term Baloch, which they have assumed, 1300or whether they took it from, or gave it to, Baluchistan, some future inquirer into these subjects may discover.^[53]

The Zott ^[54] or Jat Tribe.—This very original race, far more numerous than perhaps all the Rajput tribes put together, still retains its ancient appellation throughout the whole of Sind, from the sea to Daudputra, but there are few or none in the thal. Their habits differ little from those who surround them. They are amongst the oldest converts to Islam.

The Mer, Mair Tribe.

—We should scarcely have expected to find a mountaineer (mera) in the valley of Sind, but their Bhatti origin sufficiently accounts for the term, as Jaisalmer is termed Mer.^[55]

The Mor, Mohor Tribe.

—Said to be also Bhatti in origin.^[56]

The Tāwari, Thori, or Tori Tribe.

—These engross the distinctive epithet of bhut, or ‘evil spirits,’ and the yet more emphatic title of ‘sons of the devil.’ Their origin is doubtful, but [324] they rank with the Bawariyas, Khengars, and other professional thieves scattered over Rajputana, who will bring you either your enemy’s head or the turban from it. They are found in the thals of Daudputra, Bijnot, Nok, Nawakot, and Udar. They are proprietors of camels, which they hire out, and also find employment as convoys to caravans.

Johya, Dahya, Mangalia Tribes.

—Once found amongst the Rajput tribes, now proselytes to Islam, but few in number either in the valley or the desert. There are also Bairawis, a class of Baloch, Khairawis, Jangrias, Undars, Bagrias, descended from the Pramar and Sankhla Rajputs, but not possessing, either in respect to numbers or other distinctive marks, any claims on our attention.

Dāūdputra, Bahāwalpur State.

—This petty State, though beyond the pale of Hinduism, yet being but a recent formation 1301out of the Bhatti State of Jaisalmer, is strictly within the limits of Marusthali. Little is known regarding the family who founded it, and we shall therefore confine ourselves to this point, which is not adverted to by Mr. Elphinstone, who may be consulted for the interesting description of its prince, and his capital, Bahawalpur, during the halt of the embassy to Kabul.^[57]

Daud Khan, the founder of Daudputra, was a native of Shikarpur, west of the Indus, where he acquired too much power for a subject, and consequently drew upon himself the arms of his sovereign of Kandahar. Unable to cope with them, he abandoned his native place, passed his family and effects across the Indus, and followed them into the desert. The royal forces pursued, and coming up with him at Sutiala, Daud had no alternative but to surrender, or destroy the families who impeded his flight or defence. He acted the Rajput, and faced his foes; who, appalled at this desperate act, deemed it unwise to attack him, and retreated. Daud Khan, with his adherents, then settled in the kachhi, or flats of Sind, and gradually extended his authority into the thal. He was succeeded by Mubarik Khan; he, by his nephew Bahawal Khan, whose son is Sadik Muhammad Khan, the present lord of Bahawalpur, or Daudputra, a name applied both to the country and to its possessors, “the children of David.”^[58] It was Mubarik who deprived the Bhattis of the district called Khadal, so often mentioned in the Annals of Jaisalmer, and whose chief town is Derawar, founded by Rawal Deoraj in the eighth century; and where the successor of Daud established his abode. Derawar was at that time inhabited by a branch of the Bhattis, broken off at a very early period, its chief holding the title of Rawal, and whose family since their expulsion have resided at Ghariala, belonging to Bikaner, on [325] an allowance of five rupees a day, granted by the conqueror. The capital of the “sons of David” was removed to the south bank of the Gara by Bahawal Khan (who gave it his name), to the site of an old 1302Bhatti city, whose name I could not learn. About thirty years ago ^[59] an army from Kandahar invaded Daudputra, invested and took Derawar, and compelled Bahawal Khan to seek protection with the Bhattis at Bikampur. A negotiation for its restoration took place, and he once more pledged his submission to the Abdali king, and having sent his son Mubarik Khan as a hostage and guarantee for the liquidation of the imposition, the army withdrew. Mubarik continued three years at Kabul, and was at length restored to liberty and made Khan of Bahawalpur, on attempting which he was imprisoned by his father, and confined in the fortress of Khangarh, where he remained nearly until Bahawal Khan’s death. A short time previous to this, the principal chiefs of Daudputra, namely, Badera Khairani, chief of Mozgarh, Khudabakhsh of Traihara, Ikhtiyar Khan of Garhi, and Haji Khan of Uchh, released Mubarik Khan from Khangarh and they had reached Murara, when tidings arrived of the death of Bahawal Khan. He continued his route to the capital; but Nasir Khan, son of Alam Khan, Gurgecha (Baloch), having formerly injured him and dreading punishment, had him assassinated, and placed his brother, the present chief, Sadik Muhammad, on the masnad: who immediately shut up his nephews, the sons of Mubarik, together with his younger brothers, in the fortress of Derawar. They escaped, raised a force of Rajputs and Purbias, and seized upon Derawar; but Sadik escaladed it, the Purbias made no defence [326], and both his brothers and one nephew were slain. The other nephew got over the wall, but was seized by a neighbouring chief, surrendered, and slain; and it is conjectured the whole was a plot of Sadik Khan to afford a pretext for their death. Nasir Khan, by whose instigation he obtained the masnad, was also put to death, being too powerful for a subject. But the Khairani lords have always been plotting against their liege; an instance of which has been given in the Annals of Bikaner, when Traihara and Mozgarh were confiscated, and the chiefs sent to the castle of Khangarh, the State prison of Daudputra. Garhi still belongs to Abdulla, son of Haji Khan, but no territory is annexed to it. Sadik Muhammad has not the reputation of his father, whom Bijai Singh, of Marwar, used to style his brother. The Daudputras are much at variance amongst each other, and detested by the Bhattis, from whom they have hitherto 1303exacted a tribute to abstain from plunder. The fear of Kandahar no longer exists at Bahawalpur, whose chief is on good terms with his neighbour of Upper Sind, though he is often alarmed by the threats of Ranjit Singh of Lahore, who asserts supremacy over “the children of David.”

Diseases.

—Of the numerous diseases to which the inhabitants of the desert are subjected, from poor and unwholesome diet, and yet more unwholesome drink, rataundha or night-blindness, the narua or Guinea-worm, and varicose veins, are the most common. The first and last are mostly confined to the poorer classes, and those who are compelled to walk a great deal, when the exertion necessary to extricate the limbs from deep sand, acting as a constant drag upon the elasticity of the fibres, occasions them to become ruptured. Yet such is the force of habit that the natives of Dhat in my service, who had all their lives been plying their limbs as kasids, or carriers of dispatches, between all the cities on the Indus and in Rajputana, complained of the firmer footing of the Indian plains, as more fatiguing than that of their native sandhills. But I never was a convert to the Dhati’s reasoning; with all his simplicity of character, even in this was there vanity, for his own swelled veins, which could be compared to nothing but rattans twisted round the calf of his limbs, if they did not belie his assertion, at least proved that he had paid dearly for his pedestrianism in the desert [327]. From the narua, or Guinea-worm, there is no exemption, from the prince to the peasant, and happy is the man who can boast of only one trial. The disease is not confined to the desert and western Rajputana, being far from uncommon in the central States; but beyond the Aravalli the question of “How is your narua?” is almost a general form of greeting, so numerous are the sufferers from this malady. It generally attacks the limbs and the integuments of the joints, when it is excruciating almost past endurance. Whether it arises from animalculae in sand or water, or porous absorption of minute particles imbued with the latent vital principle, the natives are not agreed. But the seat of the disease appears immediately under and adhesive to the skin, on which it at first produces a small speck, which, gradually increasing and swelling, at length reaches a state of inflammation that affects the whole system. The worm then begins to move, and as it attains the degree of vitality apparently necessary for extricating itself, its motions 1304are unceasing, and night and day it gnaws the unhappy patient, who only exists in the hope of daily seeing the head of his enemy pierce the cuticle. This is the moment for action: the skilful narua-doctor is sent for, who seizes upon the head of the worm, and winding it round a needle or straw, employs it as a windlass, which is daily set in motion at a certain hour, when they wind out as much line as they can without the risk of breaking it. Unhappy the wretch whom this disaster befalls, when, happening to fall into a feverish slumber, he kicks the windlass, and snaps the living thread, which creates tenfold inflammation and suppuration. On the other hand, if by patience and skill it is extracted entire, he recovers. I should almost imagine, when the patriarch of Uz exclaims, “My flesh is clothed with worms: my skin is broken and become loathsome. When I lie down, I say, when shall I arise and the night be gone?” that he must have been afflicted with the narua, than which none of the ills that flesh is heir to can be more agonizing.^[60]

They have the usual infantine and adult diseases, as in the rest of India. Of these the sitala, or ‘smallpox,’ and the tijari, or ‘tertian,’ are the most common. For the first, they merely recommend the little patient to Sitala Mata; and treat the other with astringents in which infusion of the rind of the pomegranate is always (when procurable) an ingredient. The rich, as in other countries, are under the dominion of empirics, who entail worse diseases by administering mineral poisons, of whose effects they are ignorant. Enlargement of the spleen under the influence of these fevers is very common, and its cure is mostly the actual cautery.

Famines.

—Famine is, however, the grand natural disease of 1305these regions, whose legendary stanzas teem with records of visitations of Bhukhi Mata, the ‘famished mother,’ from the remotest times. That which is best authenticated in the traditions of several of these States, occurred in the eleventh century, and continued during twelve years! It is erroneously connected with the name of Lakha Phulani, who was the personal foe of Siahji, the first Rathor emigrant from Kanauj, and who slew this Robin Hood of the desert in S. 1268 (A.D. 1212). Doubtless the desiccation of the Ghaggar River, in the time of Hamir Sodha, nearly a century before, must have been the cause of this. Every third year they calculate upon a partial visitation, and in 1812 one commenced which lasted three or four years, extending even to the central States of India, when flocks of poor creatures found their way to the provinces on the Ganges, selling their infants, or parting with their own liberty, to sustain existence.^[61]

Productions, Animal and Vegetable.

—The camel, ‘the ship of the desert,’ deserves the first mention. There he is indispensable; he is yoked to the plough, draws water from the well [328], bears it for his lordly master in mashaks, or ‘skins,’ in the passage of the desert, and can dispense with it himself altogether during several days. This quality, the formation of his hoof, which has the property of contracting and expanding according to the soil, and the induration of his mouth, into which he draws by his tongue the branches of the babul, the khair, and jawas, with their long thorns, sharp and hard as needles, attest the beneficence of the Supreme Artist. It is singular that the Arabian patriarch, who so accurately describes the habits of various animals, domestic and ferocious, and who was himself lord of three thousand camels, should not have mentioned the peculiar properties of the camel, though in alluding to the incapacity of the unicorn (rhinoceros) for the plough, he seems indirectly to insinuate the use of others besides the ox for this purpose. The camels of the desert are far superior to those of the plains, and those bred in the thals of Dhat and Barmer are the best of all. The Rajas of Jaisalmer and Bikaner have corps of camels trained for war.^[62] That of the 1306former State is two hundred strong, eighty of which belong to the prince; the rest are the quotas of his chiefs; but how they are rated, or in what ratio to the horsemen of the other principalities, I never thought of inquiring. Two men are mounted on each camel, one facing the head, the other the rear, and they are famous in a retreating action: but when compelled to come to close quarters, they make the camel kneel down, tie his legs, and retiring behind, make a breastwork of his body, resting the matchlock over the pack-saddle. There is not a shrub in the desert that does not serve the camel for fodder.

The Wild Ass.

—Khar-gadha, Gorkhar, or the wild ass,^[63] is an inhabitant of the desert, but most abounds in the southern part, about Dhat, and the deep rui which extends from Barmer to Bankasar and Baliari, along the north bank of the great Rann, or ‘salt desert.’

Rojh or Nilgae, Lions, etc.

—The noble species of the deer, the nilgae, is to be met with in numerous parts of the desert; and although it enjoys a kind of immunity from the Rajput of the plains, who may hunt, but do not eat its flesh, here, both for food and for its hide, it is of great use.^[64] Of the other wild animals common to India they have the tiger, fox, jackal, hare, and also the nobler animal, the lion.

Domestic Animals.

—Of domestic animals, as horses, oxen, cows, sheep, goats, asses, there is no want, and even the last mentioned is made to go in the plough.

Flocks (here termed chang) of goats and sheep are pastured in vast numbers in the desert. It is asserted that the goat can subsist without water from the month of Karttik to the middle of Chait, the autumnal to the spring equinox [329]—apparently an impossibility: though it is well known that they can dispense with it during six weeks when the grasses are abundant. In the thals of Daudputra and Bhattipo, they remove to the flats of Sind in the commencement of the hot weather. The shepherds, 1307like their flocks, go without water, but find a substitute in the chhachh, or buttermilk, after extracting the butter, which is made into ghi, and exchanged for grain, or other necessaries. Those who pasture camels also live entirely upon their milk, and the wild fruits, scarcely ever tasting bread.

Shrubs and Fruits.

—We have often had occasion to mention the khair or karil; the khejra, whose pod converted, when dried, into flour, is called sangri; the jhal, which serves to hut the shepherds, and in Jeth and Raisakh affords them fruit; the pilu, used as food;^[65] the babul, which yields its medicinal gum; the ber, or jujube, which also has a pleasant fruit; all of which serve the camel to browse on, and are the most common and most useful of the shrubs: the jawas, whose expressed juice yields a gum used in medicine; the phog, with whose twigs they line their wells; and the alkaline plant, the sajji, which they burn for its ashes. Of these, the first and last are worthy of a more detailed notice.

The karil, or khair (the capparis, or caper-bush), is well known both in Hindustan and the desert: there they use it as a pickle, but here it is stored up as a culinary article of importance. The bush is from ten to fifteen feet in height, spreading very wide; there are no leaves on its evergreen twig-like branches, which bear a red flower, and the fruit is about the size of a large black currant. When gathered, it is steeped for twenty-four hours in water, which is then poured off, and it undergoes, afterwards, two similar operations, when the deleterious properties are carried off; they are then boiled and eaten with a little salt, or by those who can afford it, dressed in ghi and eaten with bread. Many families possess a stock of twenty maunds.

The sajji is a low, bushy plant, chiefly produced in the northern desert, and most abundant in those tracts of Jaisalmer called Khadal, now subject to Daudputra. From Pugal to Derawar, and thence by Muridkot, Ikhtyar Khan-ki-garhi, to Khairpur (Dair Ali), is one extensive thal, or desert, in which there are very considerable tracts of low, hard flat, termed chittram,^[66] formed by 1308the lodgment of water [330] after rain, and in these spots only is the sajji plant produced. The salt, which is a sub-carbonate of soda, is obtained by incineration, and the process is as follows: Pits are excavated and filled with the plant, which, when fired, exudes a liquid substance that falls to the bottom. While burning, they agitate the mass with long poles, or throw on sand if it burns too rapidly. When the virtue of the plant is extracted, the pit is covered with sand, and left for three days to cool; the alkali is then taken out, and freed from its impurities by some process. The purer product is sold at a rupee the ser (two pounds weight); of the other upwards of forty sers are sold for a rupee. Both Rajputs and Muhammadans pursue this employment, and pay a duty to the lord paramount of a copper pice on every rupee’s worth they sell. Charans and others from the towns of Marwar purchase and transport this salt to the different marts, whence it is distributed over all parts of India. It is a considerable article of commerce with Sind, and entire caravans of it are carried to Bakhar, Tatta, and Cutch. The virtue of the soda is well understood in culinary purposes, a little sajji added to the hard water soon softening the mess of pulse and rice preparing for their meals; and the tobacconists use considerable quantities in their trade, as it is said to have the power of restoring the lost virtues of the plant.

Grasses.

—Grasses are numerous, but unless accompanied by botanical illustration, their description would possess little interest. There is the gigantic siwan, or siun, classically known as the kusa, and said to have originated the name of Kusa, the second son of Rama, and his race the Kachhwaha. It is often eight feet in height; when young, it serves as provender for animals, and when more mature, as thatch for the huts, while its roots supply a fibre, converted by the weavers into brushes indispensable to their trade. There is likewise the sarkanda, the dhaman, the duba, and various others; besides the gokhru, the 1309papri, and the bharut, which adhering to their garments, are the torment of travellers.^[67]

Melons.

—Of the cucurbitaceous genus, indigenous to the desert, they have various kinds, from the gigantic kharbuza and the chitra, to the dwarf guar. The tomato, whose Indian name I have not preserved, is also a native of these regions, and well known in other parts of India.^[68] We shall trespass no further with these details, than to add, that the botanical names of all such trees, shrubs, or grains, as occur in this work, will be given with the general Index, to avoid unnecessary repetition [331].

Kuldra (5 coss).—A village inhabited by Paliwal Brahmans; two hundred houses; wells.

Khaba (3 do.).—Three hundred houses; chiefly Brahmans; a small fort of four bastions on low hills, having a garrison of Jaisalmer.

—An assemblage of hamlets of four or five huts on one spot, about a mile distant from each other, conjointly called Sum, having a burj or tower for defence, garrisoned from Jaisalmer; several large wells, termed beria; inhabitants, chiefly Sindis of various tribes, pasture their flocks, and bring salt and khara (natron) from Deo Chandeswar, the latter used as a mordant in fixing colours, exported to all parts. Half-way between Sum and Mulana is the boundary of Jaisalmer and Sind.

1310Mulana ^[70] (24 coss).—A hamlet of ten huts; chiefly Sindis; situated amidst lofty sandhills. From Sum, the first half of the journey is over alternate sandhills, rocky ridges (termed magra), and occasionally plain; for the next three, rocky ridges and sandhills without any flats, and the remaining nine coss a succession of lofty tibas. In all this space of twenty-four coss there are no wells, nor is a drop of water to be had but after rain, when it collects in some old tanks or reservoirs, called nadi and taba, situated half-way, where in past times there was a town.

It is asserted, that before the Muhammadans conquered Sind and these regions, the valley and desert belonged to Rajput princes of the Pramar and Solanki tribes; that the whole thal (desert) was more or less inhabited, and the remains of old tanks and temples, notwithstanding the drifting of the sands, attest the fact. Tradition records a famine of twelve years’ duration during the time of Lakha Phulani, in the twelfth century, which depopulated the country, when the survivors of the thal fled to the kachhi, or flats of the Sind. There are throughout still many oases or cultivated patches, designated by the local terms from the [332] indispensable element, water, which whether springs or rivulets, are called wah, bah, beria, rar, tar, prefixed by the tribe of those pasturing, whether Sodhas, Rajars, or Samaichas. The inhabitants of one hamlet will go as far as ten miles to cultivate a patch.

These are all hamlets of about ten huts, inhabited by Rajars, who cultivate patches of land or pasture their flocks of buffaloes, cows, camels, goats, amidst the thal; at each of these hamlets there are plenty of springs; at Rajar-ki-basti there is a pool called Mahadeo-ka-dah. (See p. 1263 above.)

Deo Chandeswar Mahadeo (2 do.).—When the Sodha princes held sway in these regions, there was a town here, and a temple to Mahadeo, the ruins of which still exist, erected over a spring called Suraj kund, or fountain of the Sun. The Islamite destroyed the temple, and changed the name of the spring to 1311Dinbawa, or ‘waters of the faith.’ The kund is small, faced with brick, and has its margin planted with date trees and pomegranates, and a Mulla, or priest from Sind, resides there and receives tribute from the faithful. For twelve coss around this spot there are numerous springs of water, where the Rajars find pasture for their flocks, and patches to cultivate. Their huts are conical like the wigwams of the African, and formed by stakes tied at the apex and covered with grass and leaves, and often but a large blanket of camel’s hair stretched on stakes.

Chandia-ki-basti (2 coss).—Hamlet inhabited by Muslims of the Chandia tribe, mendicants who subsist on the charity of the traveller.

Nala (5 do.).—Descent from the thal or desert, which ceases a mile east of the nala or stream, said to be the same which issues from the Indus at Dara, above Rohri-Bakhar; thence it passes east of Sohrab’s Khairpur, and by Jinar to Bersia-ka-rar, whence there is a canal cut to Umarkot and Chor.

Mitrao (4 do.).—Village of sixty houses, inhabited by Baloch; a thana, or post here from Haidarabad; occasional low sandhills.

Mir-ki-kui (6 do.).—Three detached hamlets of ten huts each, inhabited by Aroras.

Sheopuri (3 do.).—One hundred and twenty houses, chiefly Aroras: small fort of six bastions to the south-east, garrisoned from Haidarabad.

Kamera-ka-Nala (6 do.).—This nala issues from the Indus between Kakar-ki-basti and Sakrand, and passes eastward; probably the bed of an old canal, with which the country is everywhere intersected.

Sakrand (2 do.).—One hundred houses, one-third of which are Hindus; patches of cultivation; numerous watercourses neglected; everywhere overgrown with jungle, chiefly jhau and [333] khejra (tamarisk and acacia). Cotton, indigo, rice, wheat, barley, peas, grain, and maize grow on the banks of the watercourses.

Kakar-ki-basti (6 do.).—Sixteen houses; half-way the remains of an ancient fortress; three canals or nalas intervening; the village placed upon a mound four miles from the Indus, whose waters overflow it during the periodic monsoon.

Sewan or Sehwan (1½ do.).—A town of twelve hundred houses on the right bank, belonging to Haidarabad ^[71] [334].

Jat-ki-basti (2 coss).—The word jāt or jat is here pronounced Zjat. This hamlet ‘basti,’ is of thirty huts, half a mile from the Indus: hills close to the village.

Lakhi (2½ do.).—Sixty houses; one mile and a half from the river: canal on the north side of the village; banks well cultivated. In the hills, two miles west, is a spot sacred to Parbati and Mahadeo, where are several springs, three of which are hot.^[72]

Umri (2 do.).—Twenty-five houses, half a mile from River; the hills not lofty, a coss west.

Sindu or San (4 do.).—Two hundred houses and a bazar, two hundred yards from the River; hills one and a half coss west.

Manjhand (4½ do.).—On the River two hundred and fifty houses, considerable trade; hills two coss west.

1315Haidarabad (3 coss).—One and a half coss from the river Indus. Haidarabad to Nasarpur, nine coss; to Sheodadpur, eleven do.; to Sheopuri, seventeen do.; to Rohri-Bakhar, six do.—total forty-three coss.

Alahyar-ka-Tanda (4 do.).—A considerable town built by Alahyar Khan, brother of the late Ghulam Ali, and lying south-east of Nasarpur. Two coss north of the town is the Sangra Nala or Bawa,^[73] said to issue from the Indus between Hala and Sakrand and passing Jandila.

Mirbah (5 do.).—Forty houses; Bah, Tanda, Got, Purwa, are all synonymous terms for habitations of various degrees.

Dangana (4 do.).—To this hamlet extend the flats of Sind. Sandhills five and six miles distant to the north. A small river runs under Dangana.

Karsana (7 do.).—A hundred houses. Two coss east of Karsana are the remains of an ancient city; brick buildings still remaining, with well and reservoirs. Sandhills two to three coss to the northward.

Umarkot (8 do.).—There is one continued plain from Haidarabad to Umarkot, which is built on the low ground at the very extremity of the thal or sand-hills of the desert, here commencing. In all this space, estimated at forty-four kachha coss, or almost seventy miles of horizontal distance, as far as Sunaria the soil is excellent, and plentifully irrigated by bawahs, or canals from the Indus. Around the villages there is considerable cultivation; but notwithstanding the natural fertility, there is a vast quantity of jungle, chiefly babul (Mimosa arabica), the evergreen thal, and thal or tamarisk. From Sunaria to Umarkot is one continued jungle, in which there are a few cultivated patches dependent on the heavens for irrigation; the soil is not so good as the first portion of the route.

Katar (4 do.).—A mile east of Umarkot commences the thal or sandhills, the ascent a hundred and fifty to two hundred feet. A few huts of Samaichas who pasture; two wells.

Dhat-ki-basti (4 do.).—A few huts; one well; Dhats, Sodhas, and Sindis cultivate and pasture.

1316Dharnas (8 coss).—A hundred houses, chiefly Pokharna Brahmans and Banias, who purchase up the thal from the pastoral tribes, which they export to Bhuj and the valley. It is also an entrepôt for trade; caravans from the east exchange their goods for the thal, here very cheap, from the vast flocks pastured in the Rui.

Kherlu-ka-Par (3 do.).—Numerous springs (thal) and hamlets scattered throughout this tract.

Lanela (1½ do.).—A hundred houses; water brackish; conveyed by camels from Kherlu.

Garara (10 do.).—A small town of three hundred houses, belonging to Sawai Singh Sodha, with several thal or hamlets attached to it. This is the boundary between Dhat or the Sodha raj and Jaisalmer. Dhat is now entirely incorporated in Sind. A thal, or collector of the transit duties, resides here.

Harsani (10 do.).—Three hundred houses, chiefly Bhattis. It belongs to a Rajput of this tribe, now dependent on Marwar [336].

Jinjiniali (10 do.).—Three hundred houses. This is the fief of the chief noble of Jaisalmer; his name Ketsi,^[74] Bhatti. It is the border town of Jaisalmer. There is a small mud fortress, and several talaos, or sheets of water, which contain water often during three-fourths of the year; and considerable cultivation in the little valleys formed by the thal, or sand-ridges. About two miles north of Jinjiniali there is a village of Charans.

Gaj Singh-ki-basti (2 do.).—Thirty-five houses. Water scarce, brought on camels from the Charan village.

Hamirdeora (5 do.).—Two hundred houses. There are several thal or pools, about a mile north, whither water is brought on camels, that in the village being saline. The ridge of rocks from Jaisalmer here terminates.

Jaisalmer (5 do.).—Eighty-five and a half coss from Umarkot to Jaisalmer by this route, which is circuitous. That by Jinjiniali 26 coss, Girab 7, Nilwa 12, Umarkot 25—in all 70 pakka coss, or about 150 miles. Caravans or kitars of camels pass in four days, kasids or messengers in three and a half, travelling night and day. The last 25 coss, or 50 miles, is entire desert: add to this 44 short coss from Haidarabad to Umarkot, making a total of 129½ coss. The most 1317direct road is estimated at 105 pakka coss, which, allowing for sinuosities, is equal to about 195 English miles.

Shahgarh (20 do.^[75]).—Rui or waste all this distance. Shahgarh is the boundary; it has a small castle of six bastions, a post of Mir Sohrab, governor of Upper Sind.

Garhar (28 do.).—Rui or desert the whole way; not a drop of water. There are two routes branching off from Garhar, one to Khairpur, the other to Ranipur.

Nala (2 do.).—The same stream which flows from Dara, and through the ancient city of Alor; it marks the boundary of the desert.

1318Khairpur ^[76] (18 coss).—Mir Sohrab, governor of Upper Sind, and brother of the prince of Haidarabad, resides here. He has erected a stone fortress of twelve bastions, called Nawakot or New-castle. The 18 coss from the thal to Khairpur is flat, and marks the breadth of the valley here. The following towns are of consequence.

Khairpur to Larkhana.—Twenty coss west of the Indus, held by Karam Ali, son of the prince of Haidarabad.

Pharara (10 do.).—A village of fifty houses, inhabited by Sindis and Karars; several hamlets around. A dani, or collector of transit dues, resides here on the part of Mir Sohrab, the route being travelled by kitars or caravans of camels. The nala from Dara passes two coss east of Pharara, which is on the extremity of the desert. Commencement of the ridge called Takar, five coss west of Pharara, extending to Rohri Bakhar, sixteen coss distant from Pharara. From Pharara to the Indus, eighteen coss, or thirty miles breadth of the valley here.

Gotru (16 do.).—Boundary of Jaisalmer and Upper Sind. A small castle and garrison of Mir Sohrab’s; two wells, one inside; and a hamlet of thirty huts of Samaichas and Undars; thal heavy.

Udat (32 do.).—Thirty huts of shepherds; a small mud fortress. Rui, a deep and entire desert, throughout all this space; no water [338].

Sankram or Sangram (16 do.).—Half the distance sand-hills, the rest numerous temporary hamlets constructed of the thal, or maize stalks; several water-courses.

Nala-Sangra (½ do.).—This nala or stream is from Dara, on the Sind, two coss and a half north of Rohri Bakhar; much cultivation; extremity of the sand-hills.

Targatia (½ do.).—A large town; Bankers and Banias, here termed Karar and Samaichas.

Low ridge of hills, called Takar (4 do.).—This little chain of 1319silicious rocks runs north and south; Nawakot, the Newcastle of Sohrab, is at the foot of them; they extend beyond Pharara, which is sixteen coss from Rohri Bakhar. Gumat is six coss from Nawakot.

On the ridge, on the left bank of the Indus. Crossed over to Bakhar; breadth of the river near a mile. Bakhar is an island, and the other branch to Sakhar is almost a mile over also. This insulated rock is of silex, specimens of which I possess. There are the remains of the ancient fortress of Mansura, named in honour of the Caliph Al-Mansur, whose lieutenants made it the capital of Sind on the opening of their conquests. It is yet more famed as the capital of the Sogdoi of Alexander; in all probability a corruption of Sodha, the name of the tribe which has ruled from immemorial ages, and who till very lately held Umarkot.

N.B.—Kasids or messengers engage to carry despatches from Jaisalmer to Rohri Bakhar in four days and a half; a distance of one hundred and twelve coss.

Khara (20 do.).—Rui or desert all the way. This is the thal, or mutual boundary of Upper Sind and Jaisalmer, and there is a small thal or mud fort, jointly held by the respective troops; twenty huts and one well.

Sutiala (20 do.).—Rui all the way. A thal for the collection of duties; six wells.

Khairpur (Dahir Ali) (20 do.).—Rui, and deep jungle of the evergreens called thal and thal, from Sutiala to Khairpur.

Sabzal-ka-kot (8 do.).—Boundary of Upper Sind and Daudputra. This frontier castle, often disputed, was lately taken by Mir Sohrab from Bahawal Khan. Numerous hamlets and watercourses [339].

1320Ahmadpur (8 coss).—Considerable garrison town of Daudputra; two battalions and sixteen guns.

Rohri Bakhar (20 do.).—Numerous hamlets and temporary villages, with many water-courses for cultivation in all this space.

Nohar-ki-Garhi (25 do.).—thal or desert throughout this space. The castle of Nohar is of brick, and now belongs to Daudputra, who captured it from the Bhattis of Jaisalmer. About 1321forty huts and little cultivation. It is a place of toll for the kitars or caravans; two rupees for each [340] camel-load of ghi, and four for one with sugar; half a rupee for each camel, and a third for an ox laden with grain.

Ikhtyar-ki-Garhi (15 do.).—thal until the last four coss, or eight miles. Thence the descent from the thal or sand-hills to the valley of the Indus.

Devikot (2 do.).—A small town of two hundred houses; belongs to the Jaisalmer fisc or khalisa. There is a little fort and garrison. A talao or pool excavated by the Paliwals, in which water remains throughout the year after much rain.

Sangar (6 do.).—N.B. This route is to the east of that (following) by Chincha, the most direct road to Balotra, and the one usually travelled; but the villages are now deserted.

Mandai (frontier) (2½ do.).—Two hundred and fifty houses. Sahib Khan Sahariya with a hundred horse is stationed here; the town is khalisa and the last of Jaisalmer. The ridge from Jaisalmer is close to all the places on this route to Mandi.

Sheo (2 do.).—A large town of three hundred houses, but many deserted, some through famine. Chief of a district. A Hakim resides here from Jodhpur; collects the transit dues, and protects the country from the depredations of the Sahariyas.

Kotra (3 do.).—Town of five hundred houses, of which only two hundred are now inhabited. On the north-west side is a fort on the ridge. A Rathor chief resides here. The district of Sheo Kotra was taken from the Bhattis of Jaisalmer by the Rathors of Jodhpur.

Vesala (6 do.).—In ancient times a considerable place; now only fifty houses. A fort on the ridge to the south-west, near two hundred feet high; connected with the Jaisalmer ridge, but often covered by the lofty thal of sand.

1322Kheralu (7 coss).—Capital of Kherdhar, one of the ancient divisions of Marusthali. Two coss south of Vesala crossed a pass over the hills.

Chhotan (10 do.).—An ancient city, now in ruins, having at present only about eighty houses, inhabited by the Sahariyas [341].

Bankasar (11 do.). Formerly a large city, now only about three hundred and sixty houses.

Nagar (3 do.).—A large town, capital of Parkar, containing one thousand five hundred houses, of which one-half are inhabited.

Kaim Khan Sahariya-ki-basti (18 do.).—Thirty houses in the thal; wells, with water near the surface; three coss to the east the boundary of Sind and the Chauhan Raj.

Mitti or Mittri-ka-kot (3 do.).—A town of six hundred houses in Dhat, or the division of Umarkot belonging to Haidarabad; a relative of whose prince, with the title of Nawab, resides here; a place of great commerce, and also of transit for the caravans; a fortified mahall to the south-west. When the Shah of Kabul used to invade Sind, the Haidarabad prince always took refuge here with his family and valuables. The sand-hills are immensely high and formidable.

Chailasar (10 do.).—Four hundred houses, inhabited by Sahariyas, Brahmans, Bijaranis, and Banias; a place of great importance to the transit trade.

Nur Ali, Pani-ka-Tar (9 do.).—Sixty houses of Charans, Sultana Rajputs and Kauravas (qu. the ancient Kauravas?) water (thal) plenty in the thal.

Rual (5 do.).—Twelve hamlets termed thal, scattered round a tract of several coss, inhabited by different tribes, after whom they are named, as Sodha, Sahariya, Kaurava, Brahman, Bania and Sutar, as Sodha-ka-bas, Sahariya-ka-bas, or habitations of the Sodhas; of the Sahariyas, etc. etc. (see p. 1263).

Deli (7 do.).—One hundred houses; a thal, or collector of duties, resides here.

Raedana (11 do.).—Forty houses; a lake formed by damming up the water. thal, or salt-pans.

Sheo (3 do.).—The whole space from Nagar to Sheo-Kotra is a continuous mass of lofty sand-hills (thal), scattered with hamlets (thal), in many parts affording abundant pasture for flocks of sheep, goats, buffaloes, and camels; 1323the thal extends south to Nawakot and Balwar, about ten coss south of the former and two of the latter. To the left of Nawakot are the flats of Talpura, or Lower Sind.

Dhana (5 coss).—Two hundred houses of Paliwals; pool and wells; ridge two to three hundred feet high, cultivation between the ridges.

Chincha (7 do.).—Small hamlet; Sara, half a coss east; ridge, low thal, cultivation.

Jasrana (2 do.).—Thirty houses of Paliwals, as before; Kita to the right half a coss.

Unda (1 do.).—Fifty houses of Paliwals and Jain Rajputs; wells and pools; country as before [342].

Sangar (2 do.).—Sixty houses; only fifteen inhabited, the rest fled to Sind during the famine of 1813; Charans. Grand thal commences.

Sangar-ka-talao (½ do.).—Water remains generally eight months in the talao or pool, sometimes the whole year.

Gonga (4 do.).—Hamlet of twenty huts; thal, or small wells and pools; to this the ridge and thal intermingle.

Bhadka (2 do.).—Four hundred houses; deserted. This is “the third year of famine!”

Nagar (Gurha) (20 do.).—This is a large town on the west bank of the Luni River, of four to five hundred houses, but many deserted since the famine, which has almost depopulated this region. In 1813 the inhabitants were flying as far as the Ganges, and selling themselves and offspring into slavery to save life.

Guru (2 do.).—West side of the Luni; town of seven hundred houses; the chief is styled Rana, and of the Chauhan tribe.

Chitalwana (2 do.).—Town of three hundred houses; east side 1324of river; belonging to a Chauhan chief, styled Rana. Sanchor seven coss to the south.

Dharanidhar (3 do.).—Seven or eight hundred houses, nearly deserted, belonging to Suigam.

Panchbhadra (3 do.).—Balotra fair on the 11th Magh—continues ten days. Balotra has four to five hundred houses in the tract called Siwanchi; the ridge unites with Jalor and Siwana. Panchbhadra has two hundred houses, almost all deserted since the famine. Here is the celebrated Agar, or salt-lake, yielding considerable revenue to the government.

Gopti (2 coss).—Forty houses; deserted; one coss north of this the deep thal commences.

Patod (4 do.).—A considerable commercial mart; four hundred houses; cotton produced in great quantities.

Serara (1 do.).—Sixty houses. To Patod the tract is termed Siwanchi; from thence Indhavati, from the ancient lords of the Indha tribe.

Pokaran (4 do.).—From Bakri commences the Pokaran district; all flat, and though sandy, no thal or hills.

Bhojka (3 do.).—One coss to the left is the direct road to Basanki, seven coss from Chandan.

Jaisalmer (4 do.).—From Pokaran to Udhania, the road is over a low ridge of rocks; thence to Lahti is a well-cultivated plain, the ridge being on the left. A small thal intervenes at Sodhakur, thence to Chandan, plain. From Chandan to Basanki the road again traverses the low ridge, increasing in height, and with occasional cultivation, to Jaisalmer [344].

Nohar-ki-Garhi (24 do.).—Deep thal or desert; the frontier garrison of Sind; the garhi, or castle, held by Haji Khan.

Garhi Ikhtyar Khan-ki (18 do.)—The best portion of this through the Kachhi, or flats of the valley. Garhi on the Indus.

Total 147 coss, equal to 220½ miles, the coss being about a mile and a half each; 200 English miles of horizontal distance to be protracted [345].

21. Colonel Briggs, in his translation [iv. 406], writes it Hully Sa, and in this very place remarks on the “mutilation of Hindu names by the early Mahomedan writers, which are frequently not to be recognized”; or, we might have learned that the adjunct Sa to Hully (qu. Heri), the son of Sehris, was the badge of his tribe, Soda. The Roy-sahy, or Rae-sa of Abulfazil, means ‘Prince Sa’ or ‘Prince of the Sodas.’ Of the same family was Dahir, whose capital, in A.H. 99, was (says Abu-l fazil) “Alore or Debeil,” in which this historian makes a geographical mistake: Alore or Arore being the capital of Upper Sinde, and Debeil (correctly Dewul, the temple), or Tatta, the capital of Lower Sinde. In all probability Dahir held both. We have already dilated, in the Annals of Mewar, on a foreign prince named “Dahir Despati,” or the sovereign prince, Dahir, being amongst her defenders, on the first Mooslem invasion, which we conjectured must have been that of Mahomed Kasim, after he had subdued Sinde. Bappa, the lord of Cheetore, was nephew of Raja Maun Mori, shewing a double motive in the exiled son of Dahir to support Cheetore against his own enemy Kasim. The Moris and Sodas were alike branches of the Pramar (see Vol. I. p. 111). It is also worth while to draw attention to the remark elsewhere made (p. 286) on the stir made by Hejauje of Khorasan (who sent Kasim to Sinde) amongst the Hindu princes of Zabulist’han: dislocated facts, all demonstrating one of great importance, namely, the wide dominion of the Rajpoot race, previous to the appearance of Mahomed. Oriental literature sustained a loss which can scarcely be repaired, by the destruction of the valuable MSS. amassed by Colonel Briggs, during many years, for the purpose of a general history of the early transactions of the Mahomedans. [This note has been reprinted as it stands in the original text. Many statements must be received with caution. See Elliot-Dowson i. 120 ff.]

33. The memoir adds: Fateh Ali was succeeded by his brother, the present Ghulam Ali, and he by his son, Karam Ali. The general correctness of this outline is proved by a very interesting work (which has only fallen into my hands in time to make this note), entitled Narrative of a Visit to the Court of Sinde, by Dr. Burnes. Bijar Khan was minister to the Kalhora rulers of Sind, whose cruelties at length gave the government to the family of the minister. As it is scarcely to be supposed that Raja Bijai Singh would furnish assassins to the Kalhora, who could have little difficulty in finding them in Sind, the insult which caused the fate of Bijar may have proceeded from his master, though he may have been made the scapegoat. It is much to be regretted that the author of the Visit to Sinde did not accompany the Amirs to Sehwan (of which I shall venture an account obtained nearly twenty years ago). With the above memoir and map (by his brother, Lieut. Burnes) of the Rann, a new light has been thrown on the history and geography of this most interesting and important portion of India. It is to be desired that to a gentleman so well prepared may be entrusted the examination of this still little-known region. I had long entertained the hope of passing through the desert, by Jaisalmer to Uchh, and thence, sailing down to Mansura, visiting Aror, Sehwan, Sammanagari, and Bamanwasa. The rupture with Sind in 1820 gave me great expectations of accomplishing this object, and I drew up and transmitted to Lord Hastings a plan of marching a force through the desert, and planting the cross on the insular capital of the Sogdoi; but peace was the order of the day. I was then in communication with Mir Sohrab, governor of Upper Sind, who, I have little doubt, would have come over to our views.

71. Sehwan is erected on an elevation within a few hundred yards of the river, having many clumps of trees, especially to the south. The houses are built of clay, often three stories high, with wooden pillars supporting the floors. To the north of the town are the remains of a very ancient and extensive fortress, sixty of its bastions being still visible; and in the centre the vestiges of a palace still known as Raja Bhartrihari-ka-Mahall, who is said to have reigned here when driven from Ujjain by his brother Vikramaditya. Although centuries have flown since the Hindus had any power in these regions, their traditions have remained. They relate that Vikrama, the eldest son of Gandharap Sen, was so devoted to his wife, that he neglected the affairs of government, which made his brother expostulate with him. This coming to his wife’s ears, she insisted on the banishment of Vikrama. Soon after a celebrated ascetic reached his court, and presented to Bhartrihari the Amarphul, or ‘fruit of immortality,’ the reward of years of austere devotion at the shrine of Mahadeo. Bhartrihari gave it to his wife, who bestowed it on an elephant-driver, her paramour; he to a common prostitute, his mistress; who expecting to be highly rewarded for it, carried it to the raja. Incensed at such a decided proof of infidelity, Bhartrihari, presenting himself before his queen, asked for the prize—she had lost it. Having produced it, she was so overwhelmed with shame that she rushed from his presence, and precipitating herself from the walls of the palace, was dashed to pieces. Raja Bhartrihari consoled himself with another wife, Rani Pingula, to whose charms he in like manner became enslaved; but experience had taught him suspicion. Having one day gone a-hunting, his huntsman shot a deer, whose doe coming to the spot, for a short time contemplated the body, then threw herself on his antlers and died. The Shikari, or huntsman, who had fallen asleep, was killed by a huge snake. His wife came to seek him, supposing him still asleep, but at length seeing he was dead, she collected leaves, dried reeds, and twigs, and having made a pyre, placed the body under it; after the usual perambulations she set fire to, and perished with it. The raja, who witnessed these proceedings, went home and conversed with Pingulani on these extraordinary Satis, especially the Shikari’s, which he called unparalleled. Pingulani disputed the point, and said it was the sacrifice of passion, not of love; had it been the latter, grief would have required no pyre. Some time after, having again gone a-hunting, Bhartrihari recalled this conversation, and having slain a deer, he dipped his clothes in the blood, and sent them by a confidential messenger to report his death in combat with a tiger. Pingulani heard the details; she wept not, neither did she speak, but prostrating herself before the sun, ceased to exist. The pyre was raised, and her remains were consuming outside the city as the raja returned from his excursion. Hastening to the spot of lamentation, and learning the fatal issue of his artifice, he threw off the trappings of sovereignty, put on the pilgrim’s garb, and abandoned Ujjain to Vikrama. The only word which he uttered, as he wandered to and fro, was the name of his faithful Pingulani! “Hae Pingula! Hae Pingula!” The royal pilgrim at length fixed his abode at Sehwan; but although they point out the ruins of a palace still known even to the Islamite as the Am-khass of Raja Bhartrihari, it is admitted that the fortress is of more ancient date. There is a mandir, or shrine, to the south of the town, also called, after him, Bhartri-ka-mandir. In this the Islamite has deposited the mortal remains of a saint named Lal Pir Shahbaz, to whom they attribute their victorious possession of Sind.^[A] The cenotaph of this saint, who has the character of a proselyte Hindu, is in the centre of the mandir, and surrounded by wooden stakes. It is a curious spectacle to see both Islamite and Hindu paying their devotions in the same place of worship; and although the first is prohibited from approaching the sacred enceinte of the Pir, yet both adore a large salagram, that vermiculated fossil sacred to Vishnu, placed in a niche in the tomb. The fact is a curious one, and although these Islamite adorers are the scions of conversion, it perhaps shows in the strongest manner that this conversion was of the sword, for, generally speaking, the converted Hindu makes the most bigoted and intolerant Musalman. My faithful and intelligent emissaries, Madari Lal and the Dhati, brought me a brick from the ruins of this fortress of Sehwan. It was about a cubit in length, and of symmetrical breadth and thickness, uncommonly well burnt, and rang like a bell. They also brought me some charred wheat, from pits where it had been burned. The grains were entire and reduced to a pure carbon. Tradition is again at work, and asserts its having lain there for some thousand years. There is very little doubt that this is the site of one of the antagonists of the Macedonian conqueror, perhaps Mousikanos,^[B] or Mukh-Sehwan, the chief of Sehwan. The passage of the Grecian down the Indus was marked by excesses not inferior to those of the Ghaznavede king in later times, and doubtless they fired all they could not plunder to carry to the fleet. There is also a Nanak-bara, or place of worship sacred to Nanak, the great apostle of the Sikhs, placed between the fortress and the river. Sehwan is inhabited by Hindus and Islamites in equal proportions: of the former, the mercantile tribe of Mahesri from Jaisalmer, is the most numerous, and have been fixed here for generations. There are also many Brahmans of the Pokharna ^[C] caste, Sunars or goldsmiths, and other Hindu artisans; of the Muslims the Sayyid is said to be the most numerous class. The Hindus are the monied men. Cotton and indigo, and great quantities of rice in the husk (paddy), grown in the vicinage of Sehwan, are exported to the ports of Tatta and Karachi Bandar by boats of considerable burthen, manned entirely by Muhammadans. The Hakim of Sehwan is sent from Haidarabad. The range of mountains which stretch from Tatta nearly parallel with the Indus, approaches within three miles of Sehwan, and there turns off to the north-west. All these hills are inhabited as far as the shrine of Hinglaj Mata ^[D] on the coast of Mekran (placed in the same range) by the Lumri, or Numri tribe, who though styling themselves Baloch, are Jats in origin.^[E]

CHAPTER 1

By some conventional process, Europeans in India have adopted the habit of designating the principalities of Rajputana by the names of their respective capitals, instead of those of the countries. Thus Marwar and Mewar are recognized under the titles of their chief cities, Jodhpur and Udaipur; Kotah and Bundi are denominations indiscriminately applied to Haravati, the general term of the region, which is rarely mentioned; and Dhundhar is hardly known by that denomination to Europeans, who refer to the State only by the names of its capitals, Amber or Jaipur, the last of which is now universally used to designate the region inhabited by the Kachhwahas [346].

Boundaries of Jaipur State.

—The map defines the existing boundaries of this principality, to which I shall indiscriminately apply the terms (as is the practice of the natives) of Dhundhar, Amber, and Jaipur.

Etymology of Dhūndhār.

—Like all the other Rajput States, the country of the Kachhwahas is an assemblage of communities, 1328the territories of which have been wrested from the aboriginal tribes, or from independent chieftains, at various periods; and therefore the term Dhundhar, which was only one of their earliest acquisitions, had scarcely a title to impose its name upon the aggregate. The etymology of Dhundhar is from a once celebrated sacrificial mount (thal) on the western frontier, near Kalakh Jobner.^[2]

The Kachhwāha Tribe.

—The Kachhwaha or Kachhwa race claims descent from Kusa, the second son of Rama, King of Kosala, whose capital was Ayodhya, the modern Oudh. Kusa, or some of his immediate offspring, is said to have migrated from the parental abode, and erected the celebrated castle of Rohtas, or Rohitas,^[3] on the Son, whence, in the lapse of several generations, another distinguished scion, Raja Nal, migrated westward, and in S. 351, or A.D. 295, founded the kingdom and city of Narwar, or classically, Naishadha.^[4] Some of the traditional chronicles 1329record intermediate places of domicile prior to the erection of this famed city: first, the town of Lahar, in the heart of a tract yet named Kachhwahagar, or region (thal) of the Kachhwahas;^[5] and secondly, that of Gwalior. Be this as it may, the descendants of Raja Nal adopted the affix of Pal (which appears to be the distinguishing epithet of all the early Rajput tribes), until Sora Singh (thirty-third in descent from Nal), whose son, Dhola Rae, was expelled the paternal abode, and in S. 1023, A.D. 967, laid the foundation of the State of Dhundhar [347].

A family, which traces its lineage from Rama of Kosala, Nala of Naishadha, and Dhola the lover of Maroni, may be allowed ‘the boast of heraldry’; and in remembrance of this descent, the Kachhwahas of India celebrate with great solemnity ‘the annual feast of the sun,’ on which occasion a stately car, called the chariot of the sun (thal), drawn by eight horses, is brought from the temple, and the descendant of Rama, ascending therein, perambulates his capital.

Origin of Jaipur State. Dhola Rāē.

—A case of simple usurpation originated the Kachhwaha State of Amber; but it would be contrary to precedent if this event were untinged with romance. As the episode, while it does not violate probability, illustrates the condition of the aboriginal tribes, we do not exclude the tradition. On the death of Sora Singh, prince of Narwar, his brother usurped the government, depriving the infant, Dhola Rae, of his inheritance. His mother, clothing herself in mean apparel, put the infant in a basket, which she placed on her head, and travelled westward until she reached the town of Khoganw 1330(within five miles of the modern Jaipur), then inhabited by the Minas. Distressed with hunger and fatigue, she had placed her precious burden on the ground, and was plucking some wild berries, when she observed a hooded serpent rearing its form over the basket.^[6] She uttered a shriek, which attracted an itinerant Brahman, who told her to be under no alarm, but rather to rejoice at this certain indication of future greatness in the boy. But the emaciated parent of the founder of Amber replied, “What may be in futurity I heed not, while I am sinking with hunger”; on which the Brahman put her in the way of Khoganw, where he said her necessities would be relieved. Taking up the basket, she reached the town, which is encircled by hills, and accosting a female, who happened to be a slave of the Mina chieftain, begged any menial employment for food. By direction of the Mina Rani, she was entertained with the slaves. One day she was ordered to prepare dinner, of which Ralansi, the Mina Raja, partook, and found it so superior to his usual fare, that he sent for the cook, who related her story.^[7] As soon as the Mina chief discovered the rank of the illustrious fugitive, he adopted her as his sister, and Dhola Rae as his nephew. When the boy had attained the age of Rajput manhood (fourteen), he was sent to Delhi,^[8] with the tribute of Khoganw, to attend instead of the Mina. The young Kachhwaha remained there five years, when he conceived the idea of usurping his benefactor’s authority. Having consulted the Mina Dharhi,^[9] or bard, as to the best means of executing his plan, he recommended [348] him to take advantage of the festival of the Diwali, when it is customary to perform the ablutions en masse, in a tank. Having brought a few of his Rajput brethren from Delhi, he accomplished his object, filling the reservoirs in which the Minas bathed with their dead bodies. The treacherous bard did not escape; Dhola Rae put him to death with his own hands, observing, “He who had proved unfaithful to one master could not be 1331trusted by another.” He then took possession of Khoganw. Soon after he repaired to Dausa,^[10] a castle and district ruled by an independent chief of the Bargujar tribe of Rajputs, whose daughter he demanded in marriage. “How can this be,” said the Bargujar, “when we are both Suryavansi, and one hundred generations have not yet separated us?”^[11] But being convinced that the necessary number of descents had intervened, the nuptials took place, and as the Bargujar had no male issue, he resigned his power to his son-in-law. With the additional means thus at his disposal, Dhola determined to subjugate the Sira ^[12] tribe of Minas, whose chief, Rao Nata, dwelt at Machh. Again he was victorious, and deeming his new conquest better adapted for a residence than Khoganw, he transferred his infant government thither, changing the name of Machh, in honour of his great ancestor, to Ramgarh.

Dhola subsequently married the daughter of the prince of Ajmer, whose name was Maroni.^[13] Returning on one occasion with her from visiting the shrine of Jamwahi Mata,^[14] the whole force of the Minas of that region assembled, to the number of eleven thousand, to oppose his passage through their country. Dhola gave them battle: but after slaying vast numbers of his foes, he was himself killed, and his followers fled. Maroni escaped, and bore a posthumous child, who was named Kankhal, and who conquered the country of Dhundhar. His son, Maidal 1332Rao, made a conquest of Amber from the Susawat Minas, the residence of their chief, named Bhato, who had the title of Rao, and was head of the Mina confederation. He also subdued the Nandla Minas, and added the district of Gatur-Ghati to his territory.

Hūndeo, Kuntal.

—Hundeo succeeded, and, like his predecessors, continued the warfare against the Minas. He was succeeded by Kuntal, whose sway extended over all the hill-tribes round his capital. Having determined to proceed to Bhatwar, where a Chauhan prince resided, in order to marry his daughter, his Mina subjects, remembering the [349] former fatality, collected from all quarters, demanding that, if he went beyond the borders, he should leave the standards and nakkaras of sovereignty in their custody. Kuntal refusing to submit, a battle ensued, in which the Minas were defeated with great slaughter, which secured his rule throughout Dhundhar.

Pajūn.

—Kuntal was succeeded by Pajun, a name well known to the chivalrous Rajput, and immortalized by Chand, in the poetic history (Raesa) of the emperor Prithiraj. Before, however, we proceed further, it may be convenient to give a sketch of the power and numbers of the indigenous tribes at this period.

The Mīna Tribe.

—We have already had frequent occasion to observe the tendency of the aboriginal tribes to emerge from bondage and depression, which has been seen in Mewar, Kotah, and Bundi, and is now exemplified in the rise of the Kachhwahas in Dhundhar. The original, pure, unmixed race of Minas, or Mainas, of Dhundhar, were styled Pachwara, and subdivided into five grand tribes. Their original home was in the range of mountains called Kalikoh, extending from Ajmer nearly to the Jumna, where they erected Amber, consecrated to Amba, the universal mother,^[15] or, as the Minas style her, Ghata Rani, ‘Queen of the pass.’ In this range were Khoganw, Machh, and many other large towns, the chief cities of communities. But even so late as Raja Baharmall Kachhwaha, the contemporary of Babur and Humayun, the Minas had retained or regained great power, to the mortification of their Rajput superiors. One of these independent communities 1333was at the ancient city of Nain, destroyed by Baharmall, no doubt with the aid of his Mogul connexions. An old historical distich thus records the power of the Mina princes of Nain:

That is, 'There were fifty-two strongholds,^[15] and fifty-six gates belonging to the manly Mina, the Raja of Nain, whose sovereignty of Nain was extinct, when even of chaff (bhus) he took a share.' If this is not an exaggeration, it would appear that, during the distractions of the first Islamite dynasties of Delhi, the Minas had attained their primitive importance. Certainly from Pajun, the vassal chieftain of Prithiraj [350], to Baharmall, the contemporary of Babur, the Kachhwahas had but little increased their territory. When this latter prince destroyed the Mina sovereignty of Nain, he levelled its half hundred gates, and erected the town of Lohwan (now the residence of the Rajawat chief) on its ruins.

A distinction is made in the orthography and pronunciation of the designation of this race: Maina, meaning the asl, or ‘unmixed class,’ of which there is now but one, the Usara; while Mina is that applied to the mixed, of which they reckon barah pal,^[16] or twelve communities, descended from Rajput blood, as Chauhan, Tuar, Jadon, Parihar, Kachhwaha, Solanki, Sankhla, Guhilot, etc., and these are subdivided into no less than five thousand two hundred distinct clans, of which it is the duty of 1334the Jaga, Dholi, or Dom, their genealogists, to keep account. The unmixed Usara stock is now exceedingly rare, while the mixed races, spread over all the hilly and intricate regions of central and western India, boast of their descent at the expense of ‘legitimacy.’ These facts all tend strongly to prove that the Rajputs were conquerors, and that the mountaineers, whether Kolis, Bhils, Minas, Gonds, Savaras or Sarjas, are the indigenous inhabitants of India. This subject will be fully treated hereafter, in a separate chapter devoted to the Mina tribes, their religion, manners, and customs.

Death of Pajūn.

—Let us return to Pajun, the sixth in descent from the exile of Narwar, who was deemed of sufficient consequence to obtain in marriage the sister of Prithiraj, the Chauhan emperor of Delhi, an honour perhaps attributable to the splendour of Pajun’s descent, added to his great personal merit. The chivalrous Chauhan, who had assembled around him one hundred and eight chiefs of the highest rank in India, assigned a conspicuous place to Pajun, who commanded a division of that monarch’s armies in many of his most important battles. Pajun twice signalized himself in invasions from the north, in one of which, when he commanded on the frontier, he defeated Shihabu-d-din in the Khaibar Pass, and pursued him towards Ghazni.^[17] His valour mainly contributed to the conquest of Mahoba, the country of the Chandels, of which he was left governor; and he was one of the sixty-four chiefs who, with a chosen body of their retainers, enabled Prithiraj to carry off the princess of Kanauj. In this service, covering [351] the retreat of his liege lord, Pajun lost his life, on the first of the five days’ continuous battle. Pajun was conjoined with Govind Guhilot, a chief of the Mewar house;—both fell together. Chand, the bard, thus describes the last hours of the Kachhwaha prince: “When Govind fell, the foe danced with joy: then did Pajun thunder on the curtain of fight: with both hands he plied the khadga (sword) on the heads of the barbarian. Four hundred rushed upon him; but the five brothers in arms, Kehari, Pipa, and Boho, with Narsingh and Kachra, supported him. Spears and daggers are plied—heads roll on the plain—blood flows in streams. Pajun assailed 1335Itimad; but as his head rolled at his feet, he received the Khan’s lance in his breast; the Kurma ^[18] fell in the field, and the Apsaras disputed for the hero. Whole lines of the northmen strew the plain: many a head did Mahadeo add to his chaplet.^[19] When Pajun and Govind fell, one watch of the day remained. To rescue his kin came Palhan, like a tiger loosed from his chain. The array of Kanauj fell back; the cloudlike host of Jaichand turned its head. The brother of Pajun, with his son, performed deeds like Karna:^[20] but both fell in the field, and gained the secret of the sun, whose chariot advanced to conduct them to his mansion.

“Ganga shrunk with affright, the moon quivered, the Dikpals ^[21] howled at their posts: checked was the advance of Kanauj, and in the pause the Kurma performed the last rites to his sire (Pajun), who broke in pieces the shields of Jaichand. Pajun was a buckler to his lord, and numerous his gifts of the steel to the heroes of Kanauj: not even by the bard can his deeds be described. He placed his feet on the head of Sheshnag,^[22] he made a waste of the forest of men, nor dared the sons of the mighty approach him. As Pajun fell, he exclaimed, ‘One hundred years are the limit of man’s life, of which fifty are lost in night, and half this in childhood; but the Almighty taught me to wield the brand.’ As he spoke, even in the arms of Yama, he beheld the arm of his boy playing on the head of the foeman. His parting soul was satisfied: seven wounds from the sword had Malasi received, whose steed was covered with wounds: mighty were the deeds performed by the son of Pajun.”

Mālasi.

—This Malasi, in whose praise the bard of Prithiraj is so lavish, succeeded (according to the chronicle) his father Pajun in the Raj of Amber. There is little said of him in the transcript in my possession. There are, however, abundance of traditional couplets to prove that the successors of Pajun were not wanting in the chief duties of the Rajput [352], the exercise 1336of his sword. One of these mentions his having gained a victory at Rutrahi over the prince of Mandu.^[23]

We shall pass over the intermediate princes from Malasi to Prithiraj, the eleventh in descent, with a bare enumeration of their names: namely, Malasi, Bijal, Rajdeo, Kilan, Kuntal, Junsi, Udaikaran, Narsingh, Banbir, Udharan, Chandrasen, Prithiraj.

Prithirāj.

—Prithiraj had seventeen sons, twelve of whom reached man’s estate. To them and their successors in perpetuity he assigned appanages, styled the Barah Kothri, or ‘twelve chambers’ of the Kachhwaha house. The portion of each was necessarily very limited; some of the descendants of this hereditary aristocracy now hold estates equal in magnitude to the principality itself at that period. Previous, however, to this perpetual settlement of Kachhwaha fiefs, and indeed intermediately between Malasi and Prithiraj, a disjunction of the junior branches of the royal family took place, which led to the foundation of a power for a long time exceeding in magnitude the parent State. This was in the time of Udaikaran, whose son Baloji left his father’s house, and obtained the town and small district of Amritsar, which in time devolved on his grandson Shaikhji, and became the nucleus of an extensive and singular confederation, known by the name of the founder, Shaikhavati, 1337at this day covering an area of nearly ten thousand square miles. As this subject will be discussed in its proper place, we shall no longer dwell on it, but proceed with the posterity of Prithiraj, amongst the few incidents of whose life is mentioned his meritorious pilgrimage to Dewal,^[24] near the mouth of the Indus. But [353] even this could not save him from foul assassination, and the assassin was his own son, Bhim, “whose countenance (says the chronicle) was that of a demon.” The record is obscure, but it would appear that one parricide was punished by another, and that Askaran, the son of Bhim, was instigated by his brethren to put their father to death, and “to expiate the crime by pilgrimage.”^[25] In one list, both these monsters are enumerated amongst the ‘anointed’ of Amber, but they are generally omitted in the genealogical chain, doubtless from a feeling of disgust.

Bahār or Bihāri Mall, c. A.D. 1548-75.

—Baharmall was the first prince of Amber who paid homage to the Muhammadan power. He attended the fortunes of Babur, and received from Humayun (previous to the Pathan usurpation), the mansab of five thousand as Raja of Amber.^[26]

Bhagwāndās, c. A.D. 1575-92.

—Bhagwandas, son of Baharmall, became still more intimately allied with the Mogul dynasty. He was the friend of Akbar, who saw the full value of attaching such men to his throne. By what arts or influence he overcame the scruples of the Kachhwaha Rajput we know not, unless by appealing to his avarice or ambition; but the name of Bhagwandas is execrated as the first who sullied Rajput purity by matrimonial alliance with the Islamite.^[27] His daughter espoused 1338Prince Salim, afterwards Jahangir, and the fruit of the marriage was the unfortunate Khusru.^[28]

Mān Singh, c. A.D. 1592-1614.

—Man Singh, nephew ^[29] and successor of Bhagwandas, was the most brilliant character of Akbar’s court. As the emperor’s lieutenant, he was entrusted with the most arduous duties, and added conquests to the empire from Khotan to the ocean. Orissa was subjugated by him,^[30] Assam humbled and made tributary, and Kabul maintained in her allegiance. He held in succession the governments of Bengal and Behar,^[31] the [354] Deccan and Kabul. Raja Man soon proved to Akbar that his policy of strengthening his throne by Rajput alliances was not without hazard; these alliances introducing a direct influence in the State, which frequently thwarted the views of the sovereign. So powerful was it, that even Akbar, in the zenith of his power, saw no other method of diminishing its force, than the execrable but common expedient of Asiatic despots—poison: it has been already related how the emperor’s attempt recoiled upon him to his destruction.^[32]

1339Akbar was on his death-bed when Raja Man commenced an intrigue to alter the succession in favour of his nephew, Prince Khusru, and it was probably in this predicament that the monarch had recourse to the only safe policy, that of seeing the crown fixed on the head of Salim, afterwards Jahangir. The conspiracy for the time was quashed, and Raja Man was sent to the government of Bengal; but it broke out again, and ended in the perpetual imprisonment of Khusru,^[33] and a dreadful death to his adherents. Raja Man was too wise to identify himself with the rebellion, though he stimulated his nephew, and he was too powerful to be openly punished, being at the head of twenty thousand Rajputs; but the native chronicle mentions that he was amerced by Jahangir in the incredible sum of ten crores, or millions sterling. According to the Muhammadan historian, Raja Man died in Bengal,^[34] A.H. 1024 (A.D. 1615); while the chronicle says he was slain in an expedition against the Khilji tribe in the north two years later.^[35]

Bhāo Singh, c. A.D. 1615-21.

—Rao Bhao Singh succeeded his father, and was invested by the emperor with the Panjhazari, or dignity of a legionary chief of five thousand. He was of weak intellect, and ruled a few years without distinction. He died in A.H. 1030 of excessive drinking.

Mahā Singh, c. A.D. 1621-25.

—Maha succeeded, and in like manner died from dissipated habits. These unworthy successors of Raja Man allowed the princes of Jodhpur to take the lead at the imperial court. At the instigation of the celebrated Jodha Bai (daughter of Rae Singh of Bikaner), the Rajputni wife of Jahangir, Jai Singh, grandson of Jagat Singh (brother of Man), was raised to the throne of Amber, to the no small jealousy, says [355] the chronicle, of the favourite queen, Nur Jahan. It relates that the 1340succession was settled by the emperor and the Rajputni in a conference at the balcony of the seraglio, where the emperor saluted the youth below as Raja of Amber, and commanded him to make his salaam to Jodha Bai, as the source of this honour. But the customs of Rajwara could not be broken: it was contrary to etiquette for a Rajput chief to salaam, and he replied: “I will do this to any lady of your majesty’s family, but not to Jodha Bai”; upon which she good-naturedly laughed, and called out, “It matters not; I give you the raj of Amber.”

Jai Singh, Mīrza Rājā, c. A.D. 1625-67.

—Jai Singh, the Mirza Raja, the title by which he is best known, restored by his conduct the renown of the Kachhwaha name, which had been tarnished by the two unworthy successors of Raja Man. He performed great services to the empire during the reign of Aurangzeb, who bestowed upon him the mansab of six thousand. He made prisoner the celebrated Sivaji, whom he conveyed to court, and afterwards, on finding that his pledge of safety was likely to be broken, was accessary to his liberation. But this instance of magnanimity was more than counterbalanced by his treachery to Dara, in the war of succession, which crushed the hopes of that brave prince. These acts, and their consequences, produced an unconquerable haughtiness of demeanour, which determined the tyrannical Aurangzeb to destroy him. The chronicle says he had twenty-two thousand Rajput cavalry at his disposal, and twenty-two great vassal chiefs, who commanded under him; that he would sit with them in darbar, holding two glasses, one of which he called Delhi, the other Satara, and dashing one to the ground, would exclaim, “There goes Satara; the fate of Delhi is in my right hand, and this with like facility I can cast away.” These vaunts reaching the emperor’s ear, he had recourse to the same diabolical expedient which ruined Marwar, of making a son the assassin of his father. He promised the succession to the gaddi of Amber to Kirat Singh, younger son of the Raja, to the prejudice of his elder brother Ram Singh, if he effected the horrid deed.^[36] The wretch having perpetrated the crime by mixing poison in his father’s opium, returned to claim the investiture: but the king only gave him the district of Kama. From this period, says the chronicle, Amber declined.

1341

Rām Singh, Bishan Singh.

—Ram Singh, who succeeded, had the mansab of four thousand conferred upon him, and was sent against the Assamese.^[37] Upon his death, Bishan Singh, whose mansab was further reduced to the grade of three thousand, succeeded; but he enjoyed the dignity only a short period [356].

4. Prefixed to a descriptive sketch of the city of Narwar (which I may append), the year S. 351 is given for its foundation by Raja Nal, but whether obtained from an inscription or historical legend, I know not. It, however, corroborates in a remarkable manner the number of descents from Nal to Dhola Rae, namely, thirty-three, which, calculated according to the best data (see Vol. I. p. 64), at twenty-two years to a reign, will make 726 years, which subtracted from 1023, the era of Dhola Rae’s migration, leaves 297, a difference of only fifty-four years between the computed and settled eras; and if we allowed only twenty-one years to a reign, instead of twenty-two, as proposed in all long lines above twenty-five generations, the difference would be trifling. [The story is legendary. The eighth in descent from Vajradāman, the first historical chief of Gwalior, who captured that fortress from Vijayapāla of Kanauj (c. A.D. 955-90) was Tej Karan, otherwise known as Dulha Rāē, the Dhola Rāē of the text, who left Gwalior about A.D. 1128 (Smith, EHI, 381; IGI, xiii. 384).]

We may thus, without hesitation, adopt the date 351, or A.D. 295, for the period of Raja Nal, whose history is one of the grand sources of delight to the bards of Rajputana. The poem rehearsing his adventures under the title of Nala and Damayanti (fam. Nal-Daman) was translated into Persian at Akbar’s command, by Faizi, brother of Abu-l Fazl, and has since been made known to the admirers of Sanskrit literature by Professor Bopp of Berlin [Āīn, i. 106; Macdonell, Hist. Sanskrit Literature, 296 ff.].

CHAPTER 2

Sawāi Jai Singh, c. A.D. 1693-1743.

—Jai II., better known by the title of Sawai Jai Singh, in contradistinction to the first prince of this name, entitled the ‘Mirza Raja,’ succeeded in S. 1755 (A.D. 1699),^[1] in the forty-fourth year of Aurangzeb’s reign, and within six years of that monarch’s death. He served with distinction in the Deccan, and in the war of succession attached himself to the prince Bedar Bakht, son of Azam Shah, declared successor of Aurangzeb; and with these he fought the battle of Dholpur, which ended in their death and the elevation of Shah Alam Bahadur Shah. For this opposition Amber was sequestrated, and an imperial governor sent to take possession; but Jai Singh entered his estates, sword in hand, drove out the king’s garrisons, and formed a league with Ajit Singh of Marwar for their mutual preservation.

It would be tedious to pursue this celebrated Rajput through his desultory military career during the forty-four years he occupied the gaddi of Amber; enough is already known of it from its combination with the Annals of Mewar and Bundi, of which house he was the implacable foe. Although Jai Singh mixed in all the troubles and warfare of this long period of anarchy, when the throne of Timur was rapidly crumbling into dust, his reputation as a soldier would never have handed down his name 1342with honour to posterity; on the contrary, his courage had none of the fire which is requisite to make a Rajput hero; though his talents for civil government and court intrigue, in which he was the Machiavelli of his day, were at that period far more notable auxiliaries.

The Building of Jaipur: Work in Astronomy.—As a statesman, legislator, and man of science, the character of Sawai Jai Singh is worthy of an ample delineation,^[2] which would correct our opinion of the genius and [357] capacity of the princes of Rajputana, of whom we are apt to form too low an estimate. He was the founder of the new capital, named after him Jaipur or Jainagar, which became the seat of science and art, and eclipsed the more ancient Amber, with which the fortifications of the modern city unite, although the extremity of the one is six miles from the other. Jaipur is the only city in India built upon a regular plan, with streets bisecting each other at right angles.^[3] The merit of the design and execution is assigned to Vidyadhar, a native of Bengal, one of the most eminent coadjutors of the prince in all his scientific pursuits, both astronomical and historical. Almost all the Rajput princes have a smattering of astronomy, or rather of its spurious relation, astrology; but Jai Singh went deep, not only into the theory, but the practice of the science, and was so esteemed for his knowledge, that he was entrusted by the emperor Muhammad Shah with the reformation of the calendar. He had erected observatories with instruments of his own invention at Delhi, Jaipur, Ujjain, Benares, and Mathura, upon a scale of Asiatic grandeur; and their results were so correct as to astonish the most learned.^[4] He had previously used such 1343instruments as those of Ulugh Beg (the royal astronomer of Samarkand), which failed to answer his expectations.^[5] From the observations of seven years at the various observatories, he constructed a set of tables. While thus engaged, he learned through a Portuguese missionary, Padre Manuel, the progress which his favourite pursuit was making in Portugal, and he sent “several skilful persons along with him”^[6] to the court of Emanuel. The king of Portugal dispatched Xavier de Silva, who communicated to the Rajput prince the tables of De la Hire.^[7] “On examining and comparing the calculations of these tables (says the Rajput prince) with actual observation, it appeared there was an error in the former, in assigning the moon’s place, of half a degree; although the error in the other planets was not so great, yet the times of solar and lunar eclipses he ^[8] found to come out later or earlier than the truth by the fourth part of a ghari, or fifteen pals (six minutes of time).” In like manner, as he found fault with the instruments of brass used by the Turki astronomer, and which he conjectures must have been such as were used by Hipparchus and Ptolemy, so he attributes the inaccuracies of De la Hire’s tables [358] to instruments of “inferior diameters.” The Rajput prince might justly boast of his instruments. With that at Delhi, he, in A.D. 1729, determined the obliquity of the ecliptic to be 23° 28´; within 28´´ of what it was determined to be, the year following, by Godin. His general accuracy was further put to the test in A.D. 1793 by our scientific countryman, Dr. W. Hunter, who compared a series of observations on the latitude of Ujjain with that established by the Rajput prince. The difference was 134424″; and Dr. Hunter does not depend on his own observations within 15″. Jai Singh made the latitude 23° 10´ N.; Dr. Hunter, 23° 10´ 24″ N.

From the results of his varied observations, Jai Singh drew up a set of tables, which he entitled Zij Muhammadshahi, dedicated to that monarch; by these, all astronomical computations are yet made, and almanacks constructed. It would be wrong—while considering these labours of a prince who caused Euclid’s Elements, the treatises on plain and spherical trigonometry, ‘Don Juan,’ Napier on the construction and use of logarithms, to be translated into Sanskrit—to omit noticing the high strain of devotion with which he views the wonders of the “Supreme Artificer”; recalling the line of one of our own best poets:^[9]

The Rajput prince thus opens his preface: “Praise be to God, such that the minutely discerning genius of the most profound geometers, in uttering the smallest particle of it, may open the mouth in confession of inability; and such adoration, that the study and accuracy of astronomers, who measure the heavens, may acknowledge their astonishment, and utter insufficiency! Let us devote ourselves at the altar of the King of Kings, hallowed be his name! in the book of the register of whose power the lofty orbs of heaven are only a few leaves; and the stars, and that heavenly courser the sun, small pieces of money, in the treasury of the empire of the Most High.

“From inability to comprehend the all-encompassing beneficence of his power, Hipparchus is an ignorant clown, who wrings the hands of vexation; and in the contemplation of his exalted majesty, Ptolemy is a bat, who can never arrive at the sun of truth: the demonstrations of Euclid are an imperfect sketch of the forms of his contrivance.

“But since the well-wisher of the works of creation, and the admiring spectator of the works of infinite wisdom, Sawai Jai Singh, from the first dawning of reason in his mind, and during its progress towards maturity, was entirely devoted to the study [359] of mathematical science, and the bent of his mind was constantly directed to the solution of its most difficult problems; by 1345the aid of the Supreme Artificer, he obtained a thorough knowledge of its principles and rules,” etc.^[10]

Besides the construction of these objects of science, he erected, at his own expense, caravanserais for the free use of travellers in many of the provinces. How far vanity may have mingled with benevolence in this act (by no means uncommon in India), it were uncharitable to inquire: for the Hindu not only prays for all those “who travel by land or by water,” but aids the traveller by serais or inns, and wells dug at his own expense, and in most capitals and cities, under the ancient princes, there were public charities for necessitous travellers, at which they had their meals, and then passed on.

Assassination of Farrukhsiyar, May 16, 1719.

—When we consider that Jai Singh carried on his favourite pursuits in the midst of perpetual wars and court intrigues, from whose debasing influence he escaped not untainted; when amidst revolution, the destruction of the empire, and the meteoric rise of the Mahrattas, he not only steered through the dangers, but elevated Amber above all the principalities around, we must admit that he was an extraordinary man. Aware of the approaching downfall of the Mogul empire, and determined to aggrandize Amber from the wreck, he was, nevertheless, not unfaithful to his lord-paramount; for, on the conspiracy which deprived Farrukhsiyar of empire and of life, Jai Singh was one of the few princes who retained their fidelity, and would have stood by him to the last, 1346if he had possessed a particle of the valour which belonged to the descendants of Timur.^[11]

Enough has been said of his public life, in that portion of the Annals of Mewar with which he was so closely connected, both by political and family ties. The Sayyids, who succeeded to power on the murder of their sovereign Farrukhsiyar, were too wise to raise enemies unnecessarily; and Jai Singh, when he left the unhappy monarch to his fate, retired to his hereditary dominions, devoting himself to his favourite pursuits, astronomy and history. He appears to have enjoyed three years of uninterrupted quiet, taking no part in the struggles, which terminated, in A.D. 1721, with Muhammad Shah’s defeat of his rivals, and the destruction of the Sayyids [360]. At this period Jai Singh was called from his philosophical pursuits, and appointed the king’s lieutenant for the provinces of Agra and Malwa in succession: and it was during this interval of comparative repose, that he erected those monuments which irradiate this dark epoch of the history of India.^[12] Nor was he blind to the interests of his nation or the honour of Amber, and his important office was made subservient to obtaining the repeal of that disgraceful edict, the jizya, and authority to repress the infant power of the Jats, long a thorn in the side of Amber. But when, in A.D. 1732, the Raja, once more lieutenant for Malwa, saw that it was in vain to attempt to check the Mahratta invasion, or to prevent the partition of the empire, he deemed himself justified in consulting the welfare of his own house. We know not what terms Jai Singh entered into with the Mahratta leader, Bajirao, who by his influence was appointed Subahdar of Malwa; we may, however, imagine it was from some more powerful stimulant than the native historian of this period assigns, namely, “a similarity of religion.” By this conduct, Jai Singh is said emphatically, by his own countrymen, to have given the key of Hindustan to the Southron. The influence his character obtained, however, with the Mahrattas was even useful 1347to his sovereign, for by it he retarded their excesses, which at length reached the capital. In a few years more (A.D. 1739), Nadir Shah’s invasion took place, and the Rajputs, wisely alive to their own interests, remained aloof from a cause which neither valour nor wisdom could longer serve. They respected the emperor, but the system of government had long alienated these gallant supporters of the throne. We may exemplify the trials to which Rajput fidelity was exposed, by one of “the hundred and nine deeds of Jai Singh” which will at the same time serve further to illustrate the position, that half the political and moral evils which have vexed the royal houses of Rajputana, take their rise from polygamy.

Rebellion of Bijai Singh.

—Maharaja Bishan Singh had two sons, Jai Singh and Bijai Singh. The mother of Bijai Singh, doubtful of his safety, sent him to her own family in Khichiwara.^[13] When [361] he had attained man’s estate, he was sent to court, and by bribes, chiefly of jewels presented by his mother, he obtained the patronage of Kamaru-d-din Khan, the wazir.^[14] At first his ambition was limited to the demand of Baswa,^[15] one of the most fertile districts of Amber, as an appanage; which being acceded to by his brother and sovereign, Jai Singh, he was stimulated by his mother to make still higher demands, and to offer the sum of five crores of rupees and a contingent of five thousand horse, if he might supplant his brother on the throne of Amber. The wazir mentioned it to the emperor, who asked what security he had for the fulfilment of the contract; the wazir offered his own guarantee, and the sanads of Amber were actually preparing, which were thus to unseat Jai Singh, when his pagri badal bhai, Khandauran Khan,^[16] informed Kirparam, the Jaipur envoy at court, of what was going on. The intelligence produced consternation at Amber, since Kamaru-d-din was all-powerful. Jai Singh’s dejection became manifest on reading the letter, and he handed it to the confidential Nazir, who remarked “it was an affair in which force could not be used, in which wealth 1348was useless, and which must be decided by stratagem ^[17] alone; and that the conspiracy could be defeated only through the conspirator.” At the Nazir’s recommendation he convened his principal chiefs, Mohan Singh, chief of the Nathawats;^[18] Dip Singh, Khumbani, of Bansko; Zorawar Singh, Sheobaranpota; Himmat Singh, Naruka; Kusal Singh of Jhalai; Bhojraj of Mozabad, and Fateh Singh of Maoli; and thus addressed them on the difficulties of his position: “You placed me on the gaddi of Amber; and my brother, who would be satisfied with Baswa, has Amber forced upon him by the Nawab Kamaru-d-din.” They advised him to be of good cheer, and they would manage the affair, provided he was sincere in assigning Baswa to his brother. He made out the grant at the moment, ratified it with an oath, and presented it with full powers to the chiefs to act for him. The Panch (council) of Amber sent their ministers to Bijai Singh provided with all the necessary arguments; but the prince replied, he had no confidence in the promises or protestations of his brother. For themselves, and in the name of the Barah kothri Amber ki (the twelve great families), they gave their sitaram,^[19] or security; adding that if Jai Singh swerved [362] from his engagements, they were his, and would themselves place him on the gaddi of Amber.

He accepted their interposition and the grant, which being explained to his patron, he was by no means satisfied; nevertheless he ordered Khandauran and Kirparam to accompany him, to see him inducted in his new appanage of Baswa. The chiefs, anxious to reconcile the brothers, obtained Bijai Singh’s assent to a meeting, and as he declined going to Amber, Chaumun was proposed and agreed to, but was afterwards changed to the town of Sanganer, six miles south-west of Jaipur, where Bijai Singh pitched his tents. As Jai Singh was quitting the darbar to give his brother the meeting, the Nazir entered with a message 1349from the queen-mother, to know “why her eyes should not be blessed with witnessing the meeting and reconciliation of the two Laljis.”^[20] The Raja referred the request to the chiefs, who said there could be no objection.

The Nazir prepared the mahadol,^[21] with three hundred chariots for the females; but instead of the royal litter containing the queen-mother, it was occupied by Ugar Sen, the Bhatti chief, and each covered chariot contained two chosen Silahposhians, or men at arms. Not a soul but the Nazir and his master were aware of the treachery. The procession left the capital; money was scattered with profusion by the attendants of the supposed queen-mother, to the people who thronged the highways, rejoicing at the approaching conclusion of these fraternal feuds.

Bijai Singh entrapped.

—A messenger having brought the intelligence that the queen-mother had arrived at the palace of Sanganer, the Raja and his chiefs mounted to join her. The brothers first met and embraced, when Jai Singh presented the grant of Baswa, saying, with some warmth, that if his brother preferred ruling at Amber, he would abandon his birthright and take Baswa. Bijai Singh, overcome with this kindness, replied, that “all his wants were satisfied.” When the time to separate had arrived, the Nazir came into the court with a message from the queen-mother, to say, that if the chiefs would withdraw she would come and see her children, or that they might come to her apartment. Jai Singh referred his mother’s wish to the chiefs, saying he had no will but theirs. Having advised the brothers to wait on the queen-mother, they proceeded hand in hand to the interior of the mahall. When arrived at the door, Jai Singh, taking his dagger from his girdle, delivered it to an eunuch, saying, “What occasion for this here?” [363] and Bijai Singh, not to be outdone in confidence, followed his example. As the Nazir closed the door, Bijai Singh found himself, not in the embrace of the queen-mother, but in the iron grip of the gigantic Bhatti, who instantly bound him hand and foot, and placing him in the mahadol, the mock female procession with their prisoner returned to Amber. In an hour, tidings were conveyed to Jai Singh of the prisoner being safely lodged in the castle, when he rejoined 1350the conclave of his chiefs; who on seeing him enter alone, attended by some of the ‘men at arms,’ stared at each other, and asked “What had become of Bijai Singh?”—“Hamare pet men,” 'in my belly'! was the reply. “We are both the sons of Bishan Singh, and I the eldest. If it is your wish that he should rule, then slay me and bring him forth. For you I have forfeited my faith, for should Bijai Singh have introduced, as he assuredly would, your enemies and mine, you must have perished.” Hearing this, the chiefs were amazed; but there was no remedy, and they left the palace in silence. Outside were encamped six thousand imperial horse, furnished by the wazir as the escort of Bijai Singh, whose commander demanded what had become of their trust. Jai Singh replied, “It was no affair of theirs,” and desired them to be gone, “or he would request their horses of them.” They had no alternative but to retrace their steps, and thus was Bijai Singh made prisoner.^[22]

Whatever opinion the moralist may attach to this specimen of 'the hundred and nine gun' of the royal astronomer of Amber, which might rather be styled guna^[23] (vice) than gun (virtue), no one will deny that it was done in a most masterly manner, and where chal or stratagem is a necessary expedient, did honour to the talents of Jai Singh and the Nazir, who alone, says the narrative, were accessory to the plot. In this instance, moreover, it was perfectly justifiable; for with the means and influence of the wazir to support him, Bijai Singh must, sooner or later, have supplanted his brother. The fate of Bijai Singh is not stated.

Services of Jai Singh to Jaipur State.

—The Kachhwaha State, as well as its capital, owes everything to Jai Singh: before his time, it had little political weight beyond that which it acquired from the personal character of its princes, and their estimation at the Mogul court. Yet, notwithstanding the intimate connexion which existed between the Amber Rajas and the imperial family, from Babur to Aurangzeb, their patrimonial estates had been very little enlarged since Pajun, the contemporary of the last Rajput emperor of Delhi. Nor was it till [364] the troubles which ensued 1351on the demise of Aurangzeb, when the empire was eventually partitioned, that Amber was entitled to the name of a raj. During those troubles, Jai Singh’s power as the king’s lieutenant in Agra, which embraced his hereditary domains, gave him ample opportunity to enlarge and consolidate his territory. The manner in which he possessed himself of the independent districts of Deoti and Rajor,^[24] affords an additional insight into the national character, and that of this prince.

Limits of Jaipur State.

—At the accession of Jai Singh, the raj of Amber consisted only of three parganas or districts of Amber, Daosa, and Baswa; the western tracts had been sequestrated, and added to the royal domains attached to Ajmer. The Shaikhavati confederation was superior to, and independent of, the parent State, whose boundaries were as follows. The royal thana (garrison) of Chatsu,^[25] to the south; those of Sambhar to the west, and Hastina to the north-west; while to the east, Daosa and Baswa formed its frontier. The Kothribands, as they denominate the twelve great feudalities, possessed but very slender domains, and were held cheap by the great vassals of Mewar, of whom the Salumbar chief was esteemed, even by the first Peshwa, as the equal of the prince of the Kachhwahas.

Rajor.

—Rajor was a city of great antiquity, the capital of a petty State called Deoti,^[26] ruled by a chief of the Bargujar tribe, descended, like the Kachhwahas, from Rama, but through Lava, the elder son. The Bargujars of Rajor had obtained celebrity amongst the more modern Rajputs, by their invincible repugnance to matrimonial alliance with the Muhammadans; and while the Kachhwahas set the degrading example, and by so doing eventually raised themselves to affluence, the Bargujar ‘conquered renown in the song of the bard,’ by performing the sakha in defence of his honour. While, therefore, Sawai Jai Singh ruled as a viceroy over kingdoms, the Bargujar was serving with his contingent with the Baisi,^[27] and at the period in question, 1352in Anupshahr, on the Ganges. When absent on duty, the safety of Rajor depended on his younger brother. One day, while preparing for the chase of the wild boar, he became so impatient for his dinner, that his sister-in-law remarked, “One would suppose you were going to throw a lance at Jai Singh, you are in such a hurry.” This was touching a tender subject, for it will be recollected that the first territory in the plains obtained by the Kachhwahas, on their migration from Narwar, was Daosa, a Bargujar possession. “By Thakurji (the Lord), I shall do so, ere I eat from your hands again,” was the fierce reply. With ten horsemen he left Rajor, and took post [365] under the Dhulkot, or ‘mud walls,’ of Amber.

Attempted Assassination of Jai Singh.

—But weeks and months fled ere he found an opportunity to execute his threat; he gradually sold all his horses, and was obliged to dismiss his attendants. Still he lingered, and sold his clothes, and all his arms, except his spear; he had been three days without food, when he sold half his turban for a meal. That day Jai Singh left the castle by the road called mora, a circuitous path to avoid a hill. He was in his sukhasan;^[28] as he passed, a spear was delivered, which lodged in the corner of the litter. A hundred swords flew out to slay the assassin; but the Raja called aloud to take him alive, and carry him to Amber. When brought before him and asked who he was, and the cause of such an act, he boldly replied, “I am the Deoti Bargujar, and threw the spear at you merely from some words with my Bhabhi;^[29] either kill or release me.” He related how long he had lain in wait for him, and added that “had he not been four days without food, the spear would have done its duty.” Jai Singh, with politic magnanimity, freed him from restraint, gave him a horse and dress of honour (khilat), and sent him, escorted by fifty horse, in safety to Rajor. Having told his adventure to his sister-in law, she replied, “You have wounded the envenomed snake, and have given water to the State of Rajor.” She knew that a pretext alone was wanting to Jai Singh and this was now unhappily given. With the advice of the elders, the females and children were sent to the Raja at Anupshahr,^[30] and the castles of Deoti and Rajor were prepared for the storm.

1353On the third day after the occurrence, Jai Singh, in a full meeting of his chiefs, related the circumstance, and held out the bira^[31] against Deoti; but Mohan Singh of Chaumun ^[32] warned his prince of the risk of such an attempt, as the Bargujar chief was not only estimated at court, but then served with his contingent. This opinion of the chief noble of Amber alarmed the assembly, and none were eager to seek the dangerous distinction. A month passed, and war against Deoti was again proposed; but none of the Kothribands seeming inclined to oppose the opinion of their ostensible head, Fateh Singh Banbirpota, the chieftain of one hundred and fifty vassals, accepted the bira, when five thousand horse were ordered to assemble under his command. Hearing that the Bargujar had left Rajor to celebrate the festival of Ganggor,^[33] he moved towards him, sending on some messengers with “the compliments of Fateh Singh Banbirpota, and that he was at hand.” The young Bargujar who, little expecting [366] any hostile visitation, was indulging during this festive season, put the heralds to death, and with his companions, completely taken by surprise, was in turn cut to pieces by the Jaipur troops. The Rani of Rajor was the sister of the Kachhwaha chief of Chaumun: she was about giving a pledge of affection to her absent lord, when Rajor was surprised and taken. Addressing the victor, Fateh Singh, she said, “Brother, give me the gift (dan) of my womb”; but suddenly recollecting that her own unwise speech had occasioned this loss of her child’s inheritance, exclaiming, “Why should I preserve life to engender feuds?” she sheathed a dagger in her bosom and expired. The heads of the vanquished Bargujars were tied up in handkerchiefs, and suspending them from their saddle-horses, the victors returned to their prince, who sent for that of his intended assassin, the young Bargujar chieftain. As soon as Mohan Singh recognized the features of his kinsman, the tears poured down his face. Jai Singh, recollecting the advice of this, the first noble of his court, which delayed his revenge a whole month, called his grief treason, and upbraided him, saying, “When the spear was levelled for my destruction, no tear fell.” He sequestrated Chaumun, and banished him from Dhundhar: the chief found refuge with the Rana at Udaipur. “Thus (says the manuscript), 1354did Jai Singh dispossess the Bargujar of Deoti and Rajor, which were added to his dominions: they embraced all the tract now called Macheri.”^[34]

Amongst the foibles of Jai Singh’s character was his partiality to ‘strong drink.’ What this beverage was, whether the juice of the madhu (mead), or the essence (arak) of rice, the traditional chronicles of Amber do not declare, though they mention frequent appeals from Jai Singh drunk, to Jai Singh sober; one anecdote has already been related.^[35]

In spite of his many defects, Jai Singh’s name is destined to descend to posterity as one of the most remarkable men of his age and nation.

Erection of Buildings.

—Until Jai Singh’s time, the palace of Amber, built by the great Raja Man, inferior to many private houses in the new city, was the chief royal residence. The Mirza Raja made several additions to it, but these were trifles compared with the edifice added ^[36] by Sawai Jai Singh, which has made the residence of the Kachhwaha princes [367] as celebrated as those of Bundi or Udaipur, or, to borrow a more appropriate comparison, the Kremlin at Moscow. It was in S. 1784 (A.D. 1728) that he laid the foundation of Jaipur. Raja Mall was the Musahib,^[37] Kirparam the stationary wakil at Delhi, and Budh Singh Khumbani, with the urdu, or royal camp, in the Deccan: all eminent men. The position he chose for the new capital enabled him to connect it with the ancient castle of Amber, situated upon a peak at the apex of the re-entering angle of the range called Kalikoh; a strong circumvallation enclosed the gorge of the mountain, and was carried over the crest of the hills, on either side, to unite with the castle, whilst all the adjoining passes were strongly fortified.

Sumptuary Laws: Tolerance.

—The sumptuary laws which he 1355endeavoured to establish throughout Rajputana for the regulation of marriages, in order to check those lavish expenses that led to infanticide and satis, will be again called forth when the time is ripe for the abolition of all such unhallowed acts. For this end, search should be made for the historical legends called the ‘hundred and nine acts,’ in the archives of Jaipur, to which ready access could be obtained, and which should be ransacked for all the traces of this great man’s mind.^[38] Like all Hindus, he was tolerant; and a Brahman, a Muhammadan, or a Jain, were alike certain of patronage. The Jains enjoyed his peculiar estimation, from the superiority of their knowledge, and he is said to have been thoroughly conversant both in their doctrines and their histories. Vidyadhar, one of his chief coadjutors in his astronomical pursuits, and whose genius planned the city of Jaipur, was a Jain, and claimed spiritual descent from the celebrated Hemacharya, of Nahrvala, minister and spiritual guide of his namesake, the great Siddhraj Jai Singh.^[39]

The Asvamedha.

—Amongst the vanities of the founder of Amber, it is said that he intended to get up the ceremony of the Asvamedha yajna, or ‘sacrifice of the horse,’ a rite which his research into the traditions of his nation must have informed him had entailed destruction on all who had attempted it, from the days of Janamejaya the Pandu, to Jaichand, the last Rajput monarch of Kanauj. It was a virtual assumption of universal supremacy; and although, perhaps, in virtue of his office, as the satrap of Delhi, the horse dedicated to the sun might have wandered unmolested on the banks of the Ganges, he would most assuredly have found his way into a Rathor stable had he roamed in the direction of the desert: or at the risk both of jiva and gaddi (life and throne), the Hara [368] would have seized him, had he fancied the pastures of the Chambal.^[40] He erected a sacrificial 1356hall of much beauty and splendour, whose columns and ceilings were covered with plates of silver; nor is it improbable that the steed, emblematic of Surya, may have been led round the hall, and afterwards sacrificed to the solar divinity. The Yajnasala of Jai Singh, one of the great ornaments of the city, was, however, stripped of its rich decoration by his profligate descendant, the late Jagat Singh, who had not the grace even of Rehoboam, to replace them with inferior ornaments; and the noble treasures of learning which Jai Singh had collected from every quarter, the accumulated results of his own research and that of his predecessors, were divided into two portions, and one-half was given to a common prostitute, the favourite of the day. The most remarkable MSS. were, till lately, hawking about Jaipur.

Sawai Jai Singh died in S. 1799 (A.D. 1743), having ruled forty-four years. Three of his wives and several concubines ascended his funeral pyre, on which science expired with him.

CHAPTER 3

The Rājput League.

—The league formed at this time by the three chief powers of Rajputana has already been noticed in the Annals of Mewar. It was one of self-preservation; and while the Rathors added to Marwar from Gujarat, the Kachhwahas consolidated all the districts in their neighbourhood under Amber. The Shaikhavati federation was compelled to become tributary, and but for the rise of the Jats, the State of Jaipur would have extended from the lake of Sambhar to the Jumna [369].

Īsari Singh, A.D. 1743-60.

—Isari Singh succeeded to a well-defined territory, heaps of treasure, an efficient ministry, and a good army; but the seeds of destruction lurked in the social edifice so lately raised, and polygamy was again the immediate agent. Isari Singh was the successor of Jai Singh, according to the fixed laws of primogeniture; but Madho Singh, a younger son, born of a princess of Mewar, possessed conventional rights which vitiated those of birth. These have already been discussed, as well as their disastrous issue to the unfortunate Isari Singh, who was not calculated for the times, being totally deficient in that nervous energy of character, without which a Rajput prince can enforce no respect. His conduct on the Abdali invasion 1357admitted the construction of cowardice, though his retreat from the field of battle, when the commander-in-chief, Kamaru-d-din Khan, was killed, might have been ascribed to political motives, were it not recorded that his own wife received him with gibes and reproaches. There is every appearance of Jai Singh having repented of his engagement on obtaining the hand of the Sesodia princess, namely, that her issue should succeed, as he had in his lifetime given an appanage unusually large to Madho Singh, namely, the four parganas of Tonk, Rampura, Phaggi, and Malpura.^[1] The Rana also, who supported his nephew’s claims, assigned to him the rich fief of Rampura Bhanpura in Mewar,^[2] which as well as Tonk Rampura, constituting a petty sovereignty, were, with eighty-four lakhs (£840,000 sterling), eventually made over to Holkar for supporting his claims to the ‘cushion’ of Jaipur. The consequence of this barbarous intervention in the international quarrels of the Rajputs annihilated the certain prospect they had of national independence, on the breaking up of the empire, and subjected them to a thraldom still more degrading, from which a chancechance of redemption is now offered to them.

Mādho Singh, A.D. 1760-78.

—Madho Singh, on his accession, displayed great vigour of mind, and though faithful to his engagements, he soon showed the Mahrattas he would admit of no protracted interference in his affairs; and had not the rising power of the Jats distracted his attention and divided his resources, he would, had his life been prolonged, in conjunction with the Rathors, have completely humbled their power. But this near enemy embarrassed all his plans. Although the history of the Jats is now well known, it may not be impertinent shortly to commemorate the rise of a power, which, from a rustic condition, in little more than half a century was able to baffle the armies of Britain, led by the most popular commander it ever had in the East; for till the siege of Bharatpur the name of Lake was always coupled with victory [370].

The Jāts of Bharatpur.

—The Jats ^[3] are a branch of the great 1358Getic race, of which enough has been said in various parts of this work. Though reduced from the rank they once had amongst the ‘Thirty-six Royal Races,’ they appear never to have renounced the love of independence, which they contested with Cyrus in their original haunts in Sogdiana. The name of the Cincinnatus of the Jats, who abandoned his plough to lead his countrymen against their tyrants, was Churaman. Taking advantage of the sanguinary civil wars amongst the successors of Aurangzeb, they erected petty castles in the villages (whose lands they cultivated) of Thun and Sansani,^[4] and soon obtained the distinction of Kazaks, or ‘robbers,’ a title which they were not slow to merit, by their inroads as far as the royal abode of Farrukhsiyar. The Sayyids, then in power, commanded Jai Singh of Amber to attack them in their strongholds, and Thun and Sansani were simultaneously invested. But the Jats, even in the very infancy of their power, evinced the same obstinate skill in defending mud walls, which in later times gained them so much celebrity. The royal astronomer of Amber was foiled, and after twelve months of toil, was ingloriously compelled to raise both sieges.

Not long after this event, Badan Singh, the younger brother of Churaman, and a joint proprietor of the land, was for some misconduct placed in restraint, and had remained so for some years, when, through the intercession of Jai Singh and the guarantee of the other Bhumia Jats, he was liberated. His first act was to fly to Amber, and to bring its prince, at the head of an army, to invest Thun, which, after a gallant defence of six months, surrendered and was razed to the ground. Churaman and his son, Mohkam Singh, effected their escape, and Badan Singh was proclaimed chief of the Jats, and installed, as Raja, by Jai Singh in the town of Dig, destined also in after times to have its share of fame.

Badan Singh had a numerous progeny, and four of his sons obtained notoriety, namely, Surajmall, Sobharam, Partap Singh, and Birnarayan. Badan Singh subjected several of the royal 1359districts to his authority. He abdicated his power in favour of his elder son, Surajmall, having in the first instance assigned the district of Wer,^[5] on which he had constructed a fort, to his son Partap.

Surajmall inherited all the turbulence and energy requisite to carry on the plans of his predecessors. His first act was to dispossess a relative, named Kaima, of the castle [371] of Bharatpur, afterwards the celebrated capital of the Jats.^[6] In the year S. 1820 (A.D. 1764), Surajmall carried his audacity so far as to make an attempt upon the imperial city; but here his career was cut short by a party of Baloch horse, who slew him while enjoying the chase. He had five sons, namely, Jawahir Singh, Ratan Singh, Newal Singh, Nahar Singh, Ranjit Singh, and also an adopted son, named Hardeo Bakhsh, picked up while hunting. Of these five sons, the first two were by a wife of the Kurmi ^[7] tribe; the third was by a wife of the Malin, or horticultural class; while the others were by Jatnis or women of his own race.

Jawahir Singh, who succeeded, was the contemporary of Raja Madho Singh, whose reign in Jaipur we have just reached; and to the Jat’s determination to measure swords with him were owing, not only the frustration of his schemes for humbling the Mahratta, but the dismemberment of the country by the defection of the chief of Macheri. Jawahir Singh, in A.H. 1182, having in vain solicited the district of Kamona, manifested his resentment by instantly marching through the Jaipur territories to the sacred lake of Pushkar, without any previous intimation. He there met Raja Bijai Singh of Marwar, who, in spite of his Jat origin, condescended to ‘exchange turbans,’ the sign of friendship and fraternal adoption. At this period, Madho Singh’s health was on the decline, and his counsels were guided by two brothers, named Harsahai and Gursahai, who represented the insulting conduct of the Jat and required instructions. They were commanded to address him a letter warning him not to return through the territories of Amber, and the chiefs were desired to assemble 1360their retainers in order to punish a repetition of the insult. But the Jat, who had determined to abide the consequences, paid no regard to the letter, and returned homewards by the same route. This was a justifiable ground of quarrel, and the united Kothribands marched to the encounter, to maintain the pretensions of their equestrian order against the plebeian Jat. A desperate conflict ensued, which, though it terminated in favour of the Kachhwahas and in the flight of the leader of the Jats, proved destructive to Amber, in the loss of almost every chieftain of note ^[8] [372].

Separation of Mācheri or Alwar State, A.D. 1771-76.

—This battle was the indirect cause of the formation of Macheri into an independent State, which a few words will explain. Partap Singh, of the Naruka clan, held the fief of Macheri; for some fault he was banished the country by Madho Singh, and fled to Jawahir Singh, from whom he obtained saran (sanctuary), and lands for his maintenance. The ex-chieftain of Macheri had, as conductors of his household affairs and his agents at court, two celebrated men, Khushhaliram ^[9] and Nandram, who now shared his exile amongst the Jats. Though enjoying protection and hospitality at Bharatpur, they did not the less feel the national insult, in that the Jat should dare thus unceremoniously to 1361traverse their country. Whether the chief saw in this juncture an opening for reconciliation with his liege lord, or that a pure spirit of patriotism alone influenced him, he abandoned the place of refuge, and ranged himself at his old post, under the standard of Amber, on the eve of the battle, to the gaining of which he contributed not a little.little. For this opportune act of loyalty his past errors were forgiven, and Madho Singh, who only survived that battle four days, restored him to his favour and his fief of Macheri.

Madho Singh died of a dysentery, after a rule of seventeen years. Had he been spared, in all human probability he would have repaired the injurious effects of the contest which gave him the gaddi of Amber; but a minority, and its accustomed anarchy, made his death the point from which the Kachhwaha power declined. He built several cities, of which that called after him Madhopur, near the celebrated fortress of Ranthambhor, the most secure of the commercial cities of Rajwara, is the most remarkable. He inherited no small portion of his father’s love of science, which continued to make Jaipur the resort of learned men, so as to eclipse even the sacred Benares.

Prithi Singh II., A.D. 1778.

—Prithi Singh II., a minor, succeeded, under the guardianship of the mother of his younger brother, Partap. The queen-regent, a Chondawatni, was of an ambitious and resolute character, but degraded by her paramour, Firoz, a Filban, or ‘elephant-driver,’ whom she made member of her council, which disgusted the chiefs, who alienated themselves from court and remained at their estates. Determined, however, to dispense with their aid, she entertained a mercenary army under the celebrated Ambaji, with which she enforced the collection of the revenue. Arath Ram was at [373] this period the Diwan, or prime minister, and Khushhaliram Bohra, a name afterwards conspicuous in the politics of this court, was associated in the ministry. But though these men were of the highest order of talent, their influence was neutralized by that of the Filban, who controlled both the regent Rani and the State. Matters remained in this humiliating posture during nine years, when Prithi Singh died through a fall from his horse, though not without suspicions that a dose of poison accelerated the vacancy of the gaddi, which the Rani desired to see occupied by her own son. The scandalous chronicle of that day is by no means tender of the 1362reputation of Madho Singh’s widow. Having a direct interest in the death of Prithi Singh, the laws of common sense were violated in appointing her guardian, notwithstanding her claims as Patrani, or chief queen of the deceased. Prithi Singh, though he never emerged from the trammels of minority and the tutelage of the Chondawatni, yet contracted two marriages, one with Bikaner, the other with Kishangarh. By the latter he had a son, Man Singh. Every court in Rajputana has its pretender, and young Man was long the bugbear to the court of Amber. He was removed secretly, on his father’s death, to the maternal roof at Kishangarh; but as this did not offer sufficient security, he was sent to Sindhia’s camp, and has ever since lived on the bounty of the Mahratta chief at Gwalior.^[10]

Partāp Singh, A.D. 1778-1803.

—Partap Singh ^[11] was immediately placed upon the gaddi by the queen-regent, his mother, and her council, consisting of the Filban, and Khushhaliram, who had now received the title of Raja, and the rank of prime minister. He employed the power thus obtained to supplant his rival Firoz, and the means he adopted established the independence of his old master, the chief of Macheri. This chief was the only one of note who absented himself from the ceremony of the installation of his sovereign. He was countenanced by the minister, whose plan to get rid of his rival was to create as much confusion as possible. In order that distress might reach the court, he gave private instructions that the zemindars should withhold their payments; but these minor stratagems would have been unavailing, had he not associated in his schemes the last remnants of power about the Mogul throne. Najaf Khan ^[12] was at this time the imperial commander, who, aided by the Mahrattas, proceeded to expel the [374] Jats from the city of Agra. He then attacked 1363them in their stronghold of Bharatpur. Nawal Singh was then the chief of the Jats. The Macheri chief saw in the last act of expiring vigour of the imperialists an opening for the furtherance of his views, and he united his troops to those of Najaf Khan. This timely succour, and his subsequent aid in defeating the Jats, obtained for him the title of Rao Raja, and a sanad for Macheri, to hold direct of the crown. Khushhaliram, who, it is said, chalked out this course, made his old master’s success the basis of his own operations to supplant the Filban. Affecting the same zeal that he recommended to the chief of Macheri, he volunteered to join the imperial standard with all the forces of Amber. The queen-regent did not oppose the Bohra’s plan, but determined out of it still higher to exalt her favourite: she put him at the head of the force, which post the minister had intended for himself. This exaltation proved his ruin. Firoz, in command of the Amber army, met the Rao Raja of Macheri on equal terms in the tent of the imperial commander. Foiled in these schemes of attaining the sole control of affairs, through the measure adopted, the Macheri chief, at the instigation of his associate, resolved to accomplish his objects by less justifiable means. He sought the friendship of the Filban, and so successfully ingratiated himself in his confidence as to administer a dose of poison to him, and in conjunction with the Bohra succeeded to the charge of the government of Amber. The regent queen soon followed the Filban, and Raja Partap was yet too young to guide the state vessel without aid. The Rao Raja and the Bohra, alike ambitious, soon quarrelled, and a division of the imperialists, under the celebrated Hamidan Khan, was called in by the Bohra. Then followed those interminable broils which brought in the Mahrattas. Leagues were formed with them against the imperialists one day, and dissolved the next; and this went on until the majority of Partap, who determined to extricate himself from bondage, and formed that league, elsewhere mentioned, which ended in the glorious victory of Tonga, and for a time the expulsion of all their enemies, whether imperial or Mahrattas.

To give a full narrative of the events of this reign, would be to recount the history of the empire in its expiring moments. Throughout the twenty-five years’ rule of Partap, he and his country underwent many vicissitudes. He was a gallant prince, and not deficient in judgment; but neither gallantry nor 1364prudence could successfully apply the resources of his petty State against its numerous predatory foes and its internal dissensions. The defection of Macheri was a serious blow to Jaipur, and the necessary subsidies soon lightened the hoards accumulated by his predecessors. Two payments [375] to the Mahrattas took away eighty lakhs of rupees (£800,000); yet such was the mass of treasure, notwithstanding the enormous sums lavished by Madho Singh for the support of his claims, besides those of the regency, that Partap expended in charity alone, on the victory of Tonga, A.D. 1789, the sum of twenty-four lakhs, or a quarter of a million sterling.

In A.D. 1791, after the subsequent defeats at Patan, and the disruption of the alliance with the Rathors, Tukaji Holkar invaded Jaipur, and extorted an annual tribute, which was afterwards transferred to Amir Khan, and continues a permanent incumbrance on the resources of Jaipur. From this period to A.D. 1803, the year of Partap’s death, his country was alternately desolated by Sindhia’s armies, under De Boigne or Perron, and the other hordes of robbers, who frequently contested with each other the possession of the spoils.^[13]

Jagat Singh, A.D. 1803-18.

—Jagat Singh succeeded in A.D. 1803, and ruled for seventeen [fifteen] years, with the disgraceful distinction of being the most dissolute prince of his race or of his age. The events with which his reign is crowded would fill volumes were they worthy of being recorded. Foreign invasions, cities besieged, capitulations and war-contributions, occasional acts of heroism, when the invader forgot the point of honour, court intrigues, diversified, not unfrequently, by an appeal to the sword or dagger, even in the precincts of the court. Sometimes the daily journals (akhbars) disseminated the scandal of the Rawala (female apartments), the follies of the libertine prince with his concubine Raskafur, or even less worthy objects, who excluded from the nuptial couch his lawful mates of the noble blood of Jodha, or Jaisal, the Rathors and Bhattis of the desert. We shall not disgrace these annals with the history of a life which discloses not one redeeming virtue amidst a cluster of effeminate vices, including the rankest, in the opinion of a Rajput—cowardice. The black transaction respecting the princess of 1365Udaipur, has already been related (Vol. I. p. 536), which covered him with disgrace, and inflicted a greater loss, in his estimation,estimation, even than that of character—a million sterling. The treasures of the Jai Mandir were rapidly dissipated, to the grief of those faithful hereditary guardians, the Minas of Kalikoh, some of whom committed suicide rather than see these sacred deposits squandered on their prince’s unworthy pursuits. The lofty walls which surrounded the beautiful city of Jai Singh were insulted by every marauder; commerce was interrupted, and agriculture rapidly declined, partly from insecurity, but still more from the perpetual exactions of his minions [376]. One day a tailor ^[14] ruled the councils, the next a Bania, who might be succeeded by a Brahman, and each had in turn the honour of elevation to the donjon keep of Nahargarh, the castle where criminals are confined, overlooking the city. The feodal chiefs held both his authority and his person in utter contempt, and the pranks he played with the ‘Essence of Camphor’ (ras-kafur),^[15] at one time led to serious thoughts of deposing him; which project, when near maturity, was defeated by transferring “this queen of half of Amber,” to the prison of Nahargarh. In the height of his passion for this Islamite concubine, he formally installed her as queen of half his dominions, and actually conveyed to her in gift a moiety of the personality of the crown, even to the invaluable library of the illustrious Jai Singh which was despoiled, and its treasures distributed amongst her base relations. The Raja even struck coin in her name, and not only rode with her on the same elephant, but demanded from his chieftains those forms of reverence towards her which were paid only to his legitimate queens. This their pride could not brook, and though the Diwan or prime minister, Misr Sheonarayan, albeit a Brahman, called her ‘daughter,’ the brave Chand Singh of Duni ^[16] indignantly refused to take part in any ceremony at which she was present. This contumacy was punished by a mulet of £20,000, nearly four years’ revenue of the fief of Duni!

1366

Death of Jagat Singh.

—Manu allows that sovereigns may be deposed,^[17] and the aristocracy of Amber had ample justification for such an act. But unfortunately the design became known, and some judicious friend, as a salvo for the Raja’s dignity, propagated a report injurious to the fair fame of his Aspasia, which he affected to believe; a mandate issued for the sequestration of her property, and her incarceration in the castle allotted to criminals. There she was lost sight of, and Jagat continued to dishonour the gaddi of Jai Singh until his death, on a day held especially sacred by the Rajput, the 21st of December 1818, the winter solstice, when, to use their own metaphorical language, “the door of heaven is reopened.”

Raja Jagat Singh left no issue, legitimate or illegitimate, and no provision had been made for a successor during his life. But as the laws of Rajputana, political or religious, admit of no interregnum, and the funereal pyre must be lit by an adopted child if there be no natural issue, it was necessary at once to inaugurate a successor [377]; and the choice fell on Mohan Singh, son of the ex-prince of Narwar. As this selection, in opposition to the established rules of succession, would, but for a posthumous birth, have led to a civil war, it may be proper to touch briefly upon the subject of heirs-presumptive in Rajputana, more especially those of Jaipur: the want of exact knowledge respecting this point, in those to whom its political relations with us were at that time entrusted, might have had the most injurious effects on the British character. To set this in its proper light, we shall explain the principles of the alliance which rendered Jaipur a tributary of Britain.

8. Having given a slight sketch of the origin of the Jats, I may here conclude it. Ratan Singh, the brother of Jawahir, succeeded him. He was assassinated by a Gosain Brahman from Bindraban, who had undertaken to teach the Jat prince the transmutation of metals, and had obtained considerable sums on pretence of preparing the process. Finding the day arrive on which he was to commence operations, and which would reveal his imposture, he had no way of escape but by applying the knife to his dupe. Kesari Singh, an infant, succeeded, under the guardianship of his uncle, Newal Singh. Ranjit Singh succeeded him, a name renowned for the defence of Bharatpur against Lord Lake. He died A.D. 1805, and was succeeded by the eldest of four sons, namely, Randhir Singh, Baldeo Singh, Hardeo Singh, and Lachhman Singh. The infant son of Randhir succeeded, under the tutelage of his uncle; to remove whom the British army destroyed Bharatpur, and plundered it of its wealth, both public and private. [The son of Randhīr Singh was Balwant Singh, who was cast into prison by his cousin, Dūrjansāl. He was captured by Lord Combermere when he stormed Bharatpur in 1826. Balwant Singh was restored, and dying in 1853, was succeeded by Jaswant Singh, who died in 1893, and was succeeded by his son Rām Singh, deposed for misconduct in 1900, and succeeded by his son Kishan Singh, born in 1899 (IGI, viii. 74 ff).]

CHAPTER 4

The British Alliance, A.D. 1818.

—Jaipur was the last of the principalities of Rajputana to accept the protection tendered by the government of British India. To the latest moment, she delayed her sanction to a system which was to banish for ever the enemies of order. Our overtures and expostulations were 1367rejected, until the predatory powers of India had been, one after another, laid prostrate at our feet. The Pindaris were annihilated; the Peshwa was exiled from Poona to the Ganges; the Bhonsla was humbled; Sindhia palsied by his fears; and Holkar, who had extensive lands assigned him, besides a regular tribute from Jaipur, had received a death-blow to his power in the field of Mahidpur.^[1]

Procrastination is the favourite expedient of all Asiatics; and the Rajput, though a fatalist, often, by protracting the irresistible honhar (destiny), works out his deliverance. Amir Khan, the lieutenant of Holkar, who held the lands and tribute of Jaipur in jaedad, or assignment for his troops, was the sole enemy of social order left to operate on the fears of Jaipur, and to urge her to take refuge in our alliance; and even he was upon the point of becoming one of the illustrious allies, who were to enjoy the “perpetual friendship” of Great Britain. The Khan was at that very moment [378] battering Madhorajpura, a town almost within the sound of cannon-shot of Jaipur, and we were compelled to make an indirect use of this incident to hasten the decision of the Kachhwaha prince. The motives of his backwardness will appear from the following details.

Hesitation to accept the Treaty.

—Various considerations combined to check the ardour with which we naturally expected our offer of protection would be embraced. The Jaipur court retained a lively, but no grateful remembrance, of the solemn obligations we contracted with her in 1803, and the facility with which we extricated ourselves from them when expediency demanded, whilst we vainly attempted to throw the blame of violating the treaty upon our ally. To use the words of one who has been mixed up with all the political transactions of that eventful period, with reference to the letter delivered by the envoy at the Jaipur court from our viceroy in the East, notifying the dissolution of the alliance: “The justice of these grounds was warmly disputed by the court, which, under a lively sense of that imminent danger to which it had become exposed from this measure, almost forgot for a moment the temper and respect which it owed to the English nation.” But the native envoy from Jaipur, attending the camp of the gallant Lake, took a still higher tone, 1368and with a manly indignation observed, that “this was the first time, since the English government was established in India, that it had been known to make its faith subservient to its convenience”: a reproach the more bitter and unpalatable from its truth.^[2]

The enlarged and prophetic views of Marquess Wellesley, which suggested the policy of uniting all these regular governments in a league against the predatory powers, were counteracted by the timid, temporizing policy of Lord Cornwallis, who could discover nothing but weakness in this extension of our influence.^[3] What misery would not these States have been spared, had those engagements, executed through the noble Lake (a name never mentioned in India, by European or native, without reverence), been maintained; for the fifteen years which intervened between the two periods produced more mischief to Rajwara than the preceding half century, and half a century more will not repair it!

A circumstance that tended to increase this distrust was our tearing Wazir Ali from his sanctuary at Jaipur, which has cast an indelible stain upon the Kachhwaha name.^[4] We have elsewhere ^[5] explained the privileges of saran, or ‘sanctuary,’ which, when claimed by the unfortunate or criminal, is sacred in the eye of the Rajput [379]. This trust we forced the Jaipur State to violate, though she was then independent of us. It was no excuse for the act that the fugitive was a foul assassin: we had no right to demand his surrender.^[6]

1369There were other objections to the proffered treaty of no small weight. The Jaipur court justly deemed one-fifth (eight lakhs) of the gross revenues of the crown, a high rate of insurance for protection; but when we further stipulated for a prospective increase ^[7] of nearly one-third of all surplus revenue beyond forty lakhs, they saw, instead of the generous Briton, a sordid trafficker of mercenary protection, whose rapacity transcended that of the Mahratta.

Independent of these state objections, there were abundance of private and individual motives arrayed in hostility to the British offer. For example: the ministers dreaded the surveillance of a resident agent, as obnoxious to their authority and influence; and the chieftains, whom rank and ancient usage kept at court as the counsellors of their prince, saw in prospect the surrender of crown-lands, which fraud, favour, or force had obtained for them. Such were the principal causes which impeded the alliance between Amber and the Government-general of British India; but it would have marred the uniformity of Lord Hastings’ plan to have left a gap in the general protective system by the omission of Jaipur. The events rapidly happening around them—the presence of Amir Khan—the expulsion of the orange flag of the Mahratta, and the substitution of the British banner on the battlements of Ajmer—at length produced a tardy and ungracious assent, and, on the 2nd of April 1818, a treaty of ten articles was concluded, which made the Kachhwaha princes the friends and tributaries in perpetuity of Great Britain.

Disputed Succession.

—On the 21st of December of the same year, Jagat Singh died, and the choice of a successor speedily evinced to the ministers the impracticability of their exercising, as in days of yore, that “absolute power over their country and 1370dependants,” guaranteed to them by the treaty.^[8] Our office of arbitrating the differences between the Raja and [380] his vassals on the subject of the usurpations from the crown-lands, was easy, and left no unpleasant feeling; but when we intermeddled with the intrigues respecting the succession, our ignorance of established rights and usage rendered the interference offensive, and made the Jaipur chiefs repent the alliance which temporary policy had induced their prince to accept.

Law of Succession in Rājputāna.

—It may be of use in future negotiations, to explain the usages which govern the different States of Rajputana in respect to succession. The law of primogeniture prevails in all Rajput sovereignties; the rare instances in which it has been set aside, are only exceptions to the rule. The inconclusive dicta of Manu, on this as on many other points, are never appealed to by the Rajputs of modern days.^[9] Custom and precedent fix the right of succession, whether to the gaddi of the State, or to a fief, in the eldest son, who is styled Rajkumar, Patkumar, or simply Kumarji, ‘the prince’; while his brothers have their proper names affixed, as Kumar Jawan Singh, ‘Prince Jawan.’ Seniority is, in fact, a distinction pervading all ranks of life, whether in royal families or those of chieftains; all have their Patkumar, and Patrani, or ‘head child,’ and ‘head queen.’ The privileges of the Patrani are very considerable. In minorities, she is the guardian, by custom as well as nature, of her child; and in Mewar (the oldest sovereignty in India), she is publicly enthroned with the Rana. Seniority in marriage bestows the title of Patrani, but as soon as an heir is given to the State, the queen-mother assumes this title, or that of Maji, simply ‘the mother.’^[10] In the duties of guardian, she is assisted by the chiefs of certain families, who with certain officers of the household enjoy this as an established hereditary distinction.

On the demise of a prince without lawful issue of his body, or that of near kindred, brothers or cousins, there are certain families in every principality (raj) of Rajwara, in whom is vested the 1371right of presumptive heirship to the gaddi. In order to restrict the circle of claimants, laws have been established in every State limiting this right to the issue of a certain family in each principality. Thus, in Mewar, the elder of the Ranawat clans, styled Babas, or ‘the infants,’ possesses the latent right of heir-presumptive. In Marwar, the independent house of Idar, of the family of Jodha; in Bundi, the house of Dagari,^[11] in Kotah, the Apjis of Pulaitha ^[12]; in Bikaner, the family of [381] Mahajan ^[13]; and in Jaipur, the branch Rajawat (according to seniority) of the stock of Raja Man. Even in this stock there is a distinction between those prior, and those posterior, to Raja Madho Singh; the former are styled simply Rajawat, or occasionally conjoined, Mansinghgot; the other Madhani. The Rajawats constitute a numerous frerage, of which the Jhalai house takes the lead; and in which, provided there are no mental or physical disabilities, the right of furnishing heirs to the gaddi of Jaipur is a long-established, incontrovertible, and inalienable privilege.

We have been thus minute, because, notwithstanding the expressed wish of the government not to prejudge the question, the first exercise of its authority as lord-paramount was to justify a proceeding by which these established usages were infringed, in spite of the eighth article of the treaty: “The Maharaja and his heirs and successors shall remain absolute rulers of their country and dependants according to long-established usage,” etc. “C’est premier pas qui coute”; and this first step, being a wrong one, has involved an interference never contemplated, and fully justifying that wariness on the part of Jaipur, which made her hesitate to link her destiny with ours.

Both the sixth and seventh articles contain the seeds of disunion, whenever it might suit the chicanery or bad faith of the protected, or the avarice of the protector. The former has already been called into operation, and the ‘absolute rulers’ of Jaipur have been compelled to unfold to the resident Agent the whole of their financial and territorial arrangements, to prove that the revenues did not exceed the sum of forty lakhs, as, of the sum 1372in excess (besides the stipulated tributary fifth), our share was to be three-sixteenths.^[14]

While, therefore, we deem ourselves justified in interfering in the two chief branches of government, the succession and finances, how is it possible to avoid being implicated in the acts of the government-functionaries, and involved in the party views and intrigues of a court, stigmatised even by the rest of Rajwara with the epithet of jhutha darbar, the ‘lying court’? While there is a resident Agent at Jaipur, whatever [382] his resolves, he will find it next to impossible to keep aloof from the vortex of intrigue. The purest intentions, the highest talents, will scarcely avail to counteract this systematic vice, and with one party at least, but eventually with all, the reputation of his government will be compromised.

This brings us back to the topic which suggested these remarks, the installation of a youth upon the gaddi of Jaipur. We shall expose the operation of this transaction by a literal translation of an authentic document, every word of which was thoroughly substantiated. As it presents a curious picture of manners, and is valuable as a precedent, we shall give it entire in the Appendix, and shall here enter no further into details than is necessary to unravel the intrigue which violated the established laws of succession.

The Installation of Mohan Singh.

—The youth, named Mohan Singh, who was installed on the gaddi of Jaipur, on the morning succeeding Jagat Singh’s decease, was the son of Manohar Singh, 1373the ex-Raja of Narwar, who was chased from his throne and country by Sindhia. We have stated that the Jaipur family sprung from that of Narwar eight centuries ago; but the parent State being left without direct lineage, they applied to Amber and adopted a son of Prithiraj I., from whom the boy now brought forward was fourteen generations in descent. This course of proceeding was in direct contravention of usage, which had fixed, as already stated, the heirs-presumptive, on failure of lineal issue to the gaddi of Amber, in the descendants of Raja Man, and the branch Madhani, generally styled Rajawat, of whom the first claimant was the chief of Jhalai,^[15] and supposing his incompetency, Kama, and a dozen other houses of the ‘infantas’ of Jaipur.

The causes of departure from the recognized rule, in this respect, were the following. At the death of Jagat Singh, the reins of power were, and had been for some time, in the hands of the chief eunuch of the rawala (seraglio), whose name was Mohan Nazir,^[16] a man of considerable vigour of understanding, and not without the reputation of good intention in his administration of affairs, although the system of chicanery and force,^[17] by which he attempted to carry his object, savoured more of self-interest than of loyalty. The youth was but nine years of age; and a long minority, with the exclusive possession of power, suggests the true motives of the Nazir. His principal coadjutor, amongst the great vassals of the State, was Megh Singh of Diggi,^[18] a chief who [383] had contrived by fraud and force to double his hereditary fief by usurpations from the crown-lands, to retain which he supported the views of the Nazir with all the influence of his clan (the Khangarot), the most powerful of the twelve great families of Amber.^[19] The personal servants of the crown, 1374such as the Purohits, Dhabhais (domestic chaplains and foster-brothers), and all the subordinate officers of the household, considered the Nazir’s cause as their own: a minority and his favour guaranteed their places, which might be risked by the election of a prince who could judge for himself, and had friends to provide for.

Objections raised by the Government of India.

—A reference to the “Summary of Transactions” (in the Appendix) will show there was no previous consultation or concert amongst the military vassals, or the queens; on the contrary, acting entirely on his own responsibility, the Nazir, on the morning succeeding the death of his master, placed young Mohan in ‘the car of the sun,’ to lead the funeral procession, and light the pyre of his adopted sire. Scarcely were the ablutions and necessary purifications from this rite concluded, when he received the congratulations of all present as lord of the Kachhwahas, under the revived name of Man Singh the Second. The transactions which followed, as related in the diary, until the final dénouement, distinctly show, that having committed himself, the Nazir was anxious to obtain through the resident agents of the chieftains at court, their acquiescence in the measure under their signs-manual. It will be seen that the communications were received and replied to in that cautious, yet courteous manner, which pledged the writer to nothing, and gained him time for the formation of a deliberate opinion: the decision was thus suspended; all eyes were directed to the paramount power; and the Nazir, whose first desire was to propitiate this, entreated the British functionary at Delhi to send his confidential Munshi to Jaipur without delay. This agent reached Jaipur from Delhi six days after the death of Jagat. He was the bearer of instructions, “requiring a full account of the reasons for placing the son of the Narwar Raja on the masnad; of his family, lineage, right of succession, and by whose counsels the measure was adopted.” On the 11th of January this requisition was reiterated; and it was further asked, whether the measure had the assent of the queens and chiefs, and a declaration to this effect, under their signatures, was required to be forwarded. Nothing could be more explicit, or more judicious, than the tenor of these instructions [384].

The replies of the Nazir and confidential Munshi were such, that on the 7th of February the receipt of letters of congratulation from the British Agent, accompanied by one from the supreme authority, 1375was formally announced, which letters being read in full court, “the naubat (kettledrum) again sounded, and young Man Singh was conducted to the Partap Mahall, and seated on the masnad.” On this formal recognition by the British government, the agents of the chieftains at their sovereign’s court, in reply to the Nazir’s demand, “to know the opinions of the chiefs,” answered that “if he called them, they were ready to obey”; but at the same time they rested their adhesion on that of the chief queen, sister of the Raja of Jodhpur, who breathed nothing but open defiance of the Nazir and his junta. Early in March, public discontent became more manifest: and the Rajawat chief of Jhalai determined to appeal to arms in support of his rights as heir-presumptive, and was soon joined by the chiefs of Sarwar and Isarda,^[20] junior but powerful branches of the same stock.

Another party seemed inclined, on this emergency, to revive the rights of that posthumous son of Prithi Singh, whom we have already described as living in exile at Gwalior, on the bounty of Sindhia; and nothing but the unfavourable report of his intellect and debased habits prevented the elder branch of the sons of Madho Singh recovering their lost honours.

While the paramount authority was thus deluded, and the chieftains were wavering amidst so many conflicting opinions, the queens continued resolute, and the Rajawats were arming—and the Nazir, in this dilemma, determined as a last resource, to make Raja Man of Jodhpur the umpire, hoping by this appeal to his vanity, to obtain his influence over his sister to an acquiescence in the irremediable step, which had been taken “in obedience (as he pretended) to the will of the deceased prince.” Raja Man’s reply is important: “That there could be no occasion for his or his sister’s signature to the required declaration on the right of succession to the masnad of Jaipur, which depended upon, and was vested in, the elders of the twelve tribes of Kachhwahas; that if they approved and signed the declaration, the queen his sister, and afterwards himself, would sign it, if requisite.”

The Nazir and his faction, though aided by the interposition of the Munshi, were now in despair, and in these desperate circumstances, he attempted to get up a marriage between the puppet he had enthroned and the granddaughter of the Rana of 1376Mewar. It was well contrived, and not ill received by the Rana; but there was an influence at his court which at once extinguished the plot, though supported at [385] Delhi by the Rana’s most influential agent. It was proposed that, at the same time, the Rana should consummate his nuptials with the Jaipur Raja’s sister, the preliminaries of which had been settled a dozen years back. Money in abundance was offered, and the Rana’s passion for pageantry and profusion would have prevented any objection to his proceeding to the Jaipur capital. To receive the chief of the universal Hindu race with due honour, the whole nobility of Amber would have left their estates, which would have been construed into, and accepted as, a voluntary acquiescence in the rights of the Nazir’s choice, which the marriage would have completely cemented. Foiled in this promising design, the knot, which the precipitate and persevering conduct of the Nazir had rendered too indissoluble even for his skill to undo, was cut by the annunciation of the advanced pregnancy of the Bhattiani queen.

Birth of a Posthumous Heir.

—This timely interposition of Mata Janami (the Juno Lucina of Rajwara) might well be regarded as miraculous; and though the sequel of this event was conducted with such publicity as almost to choke the voice of slander, it still found utterance.^[21] It was deemed a sort of prodigy, that an event, which would have caused a jubilee throughout Dhundhar, should have been kept secret until three months after the Raja’s death.^[22] The mysteries of the Rawalas of Rajput princes find their way to the public out of doors; and in Udaipur, more especially, are the common topics of conversation. The variety of character within its walls, the like variety of communicants without, the conflicting interests, the diversified objects of contention of these little worlds, render it utterly impossible that any secret can long be maintained, far less one of such magnitude as the pregnancy of the queen of a prince without issue. That this event should be revealed to the Nazir, the superintendent of 1377the queen’s palace, with all the formality of a new discovery, three months after Jagat Singh’s death, must excite surprise; since to have been the bearer of such joyful intelligence to his master, to whom he was much attached, must have riveted his influence [386].

At three o’clock on the 1st of April, a council of sixteen queens, the widows of the late prince, and the wives of all the great vassals of the State, “assembled to ascertain the fact of pregnancy,” whilst all the great barons awaited in the antechambers of the Zanana Deori the important response of this council of matrons. When it announced that the Bhattiani queen was pregnant beyond a doubt, they consulted until seven, when they sent in a written declaration, avowing their unanimous belief of the fact; and that “should a son be born, they would acknowledge him as their lord, and to none else pledge allegiance.” A transcript of this was given to the Nazir, who was recommended to forward an attested copy to the British Agent at Delhi. From these deliberations, from which there was no appeal, the Nazir was excluded by express desire of the Rathor queen. He made an ineffectual effort to obtain from the chiefs a declaration, that the adoption of the Narwar youth was in conformity to the desire of the deceased prince, their master; but this attempt to obtain indemnity for his illegal acts was defeated immediately on the ground of its untruth.^[23]

By this lawful and energetic exertion of the powers directly vested in the queen-mother and the great council of the chiefs, the tongue of faction was rendered mute; but had it been otherwise, another queen was pronounced to be in the same joyful condition.^[24] On the morning of the 25th of April, four months and four days after Jagat Singh’s death, a son was ushered into the world with the usual demonstrations of joy, and received as the Autocrat of the Kachhwahas; while the infant interloper was removed 1378from the gaddi, and thrust back to his original obscurity. Thus terminated an affair which involved all Rajwara in discussion, and at one time threatened a very serious result. That it was disposed of in this manner was fortunate for all parties, and not least for the protecting power.

Having thus given a connected, though imperfect, sketch of the history of the Jaipur State, from its foundation to the present time, before proceeding with any account of its resources, or the details of its internal administration, we shall delineate the rise, progress, and existing condition of the Shaikhavati federation, which has risen out of, and almost to an equality with, the parent State [387].

SHAIKHĀWAT FEDERATION
CHAPTER 5

We proceed to sketch the history of the Shaikhawat confederation, which, springing from the redundant feodality of Amber, through the influence of age and circumstances, has attained a power and consideration almost equalling that of the parent State; and although it possesses neither written laws, a permanent congress, nor any visible or recognized head, subsists by a sense of common interest. It must not be supposed, however, that no system of policy is to be found in this confederation, because the springs are not always visible or in action; the moment any common or individual interest is menaced, the grand council of the Barons of Shaikhavati assembles at Udaipur ^[1] to decide the course of action to be pursued.

The Origin of the Shaikhāwats.

—The Shaikhawat chieftains are descended from Balaji, the third son of Raja Udaikaran, who succeeded to the throne of Amber in S. 1445, A.D. 1389. At this period, if we look back to the political state of society, we find that nearly the whole of the tracts, which now obey the Shaikhavati 1379federation, were parcelled out amongst numerous chieftains of the Chauhan or Tuar tribes,^[2] the descendants of the ancient 1380Hindu emperors of Delhi, who evinced no more submission than the sword and their Islamite successors exacted from them.

Balaji, who was the actual founder of the numerous families now designated by the more distinguished name of Shaikhji, his grandson, obtained as an appanage the district of Amritsar,^[3] but whether by his own prowess or by other means, is not mentioned. He had three sons: Mokalji, Khemraj, and Kharad. The first succeeded to the patrimony of Amritsar; the second had a numerous issue styled Balapota, one of whom was adopted into the twelve chambers (barahkothri) of Kachhwahas. The third had a son called Kaman, whose descendants were styled Kamawat, but are now early extinct.

Shaikhji.

—Mokal had a son who was named Shaikhji, in compliment to a miracle-working Islamite saint, to whose prayers the childless chief was indebted for a son destined to be the patriarch of a numerous race, occupying, under the term Shaikhawat, an important [389] portion of the surface of Rajputana. Shaikh Burhan was the name of this saint, whose shrine (still existing) was about six miles from Achrol, and fourteen from the residence of Mokal. As the period of time was shortly after Timur’s invasion, it is not unlikely he was a pious missionary, who remained behind for the conversion of the warlike but tolerant Rajput, 1381with whom, even if he should fail in his purpose, he was certain of protection and hospitality. The Shaikh in one of his peregrinations had reached the confines of Amritsar, and was passing over an extensive meadow, in which was Mokalji. The Mangta (mendicant) approached with the usual salutation, “Have you anything for me?” “Whatever you please to have, Babaji (sire),” was the courteous reply. The request was limited to a draught of milk, and if our faith were equal to the Shaikhawat’s, we should believe that Shaikh Burhan drew a copious stream from the exhausted udder of a female buffalo. This was sufficient to convince the old chief that the Shaikh could work other miracles; and he prayed that, through his means, he might no longer be childless. In due time he had an heir, who, according to the injunctions of Burhan, was styled, after his own tribe, Shaikh. He directed that he should wear the baddhiya,^[4] which, when laid aside, was to be suspended at the saint’s dargah; and further, that he should assume the blue tunic and cap, abstain from hog’s flesh, and eat no meat “in which the blood remained.” He also ordained that at the birth of every Shaikhawat male infant a goat should be sacrificed, the Kalima (Islamite creed) read, and the child sprinkled with the blood. Although four centuries have passed away since these obligations were contracted by Mokal, they are still religiously maintained by the little nation of his descendants, occupying a space of ten thousand square miles. The wild hog, which, according to immemorial usage, should be eaten once a year by every Rajput, is rarely even hunted by a Shaikhawat; and though they have relaxed in that ordinance, which commanded the suspension of the baddhiyas at the shrine of Burhan, still each infant wears them, as well as the blue tunic and cap, for two years after his birth; and a still greater mark of respect to the memory of the saint is evinced in the blue pennon which surmounts the yellow banner, or national flag, of the Shaikhawats. It is even gravely asserted that those who, from indolence, distance, or less justifiable motives, have neglected the least important injunction, that of depositing the initiatory strings or baddhiyas, have never prospered. But a still stronger proof is furnished of the credulity, the toleration, and yet [390] 1382immutability of the Rajput character, in the fact, that, although Amritsar,^[5] and the lands around the dargah, are annexed to the fisc of Amber, yet the shrine of Shaikh Burhan continues a saran (sanctuary), while lands are assigned to almost a hundred families, the descendants of the saint, who reside in the adjacent town of Tala.

Shaikhji, when he attained man’s estate, greatly augmented the territory left by his father, and had consolidated three hundred and sixty villages under his sway, by conquest from his neighbours, when his reputation and power attracted the jealous notice of the lord paramount of Amber. He was attacked; but by the aid of the Panni Pathans ^[6] he successfully withstood the reiterated assaults of his suzerain. Up to this period, they had acknowledged the Amber princes as liege lords, and in token of alliance paid as tribute all the colts reared on the original estate.^[7] A dispute on this point was the ostensible cause (though subordinate to their rapid prosperity), which occasioned a total separation of the Shaikhawat colonies from the parent State, until the reign of Sawai Jai Singh who, with his means as lieutenant of the empire, compelled homage, submission, and pecuniary relief from them. Shaikhji left a well-established authority to his son, Raemall, of whom nothing is recorded. Raemall was followed by Suja, who had three sons, namely, Nunkaran, Raesal, and Gopal. The elder succeeded to the patrimony of Amritsar and its three hundred and sixty townships, while to his brothers, the fiefs of 1383Lambi and Jharli ^[8] were respectively assigned. With the second brother, Raesal, the fortunes of the Shaikhawats made a rapid stride, from an occurrence in which the Rajput appears in the position we desire to see him occupy.

Nunkaran, the chief of the Shaikhawats, had a minister named Devidas, of the Bania or mercantile caste, and, like thousands of that caste, energetic, shrewd, and intelligent. He one day held an argument with his lord (which the result proves he maintained with independence), that “genius with good fortune was the first gift of heaven, and to be far more prized than a man’s mere inheritance.” Nunkaran warmly disputed the point, which ended by his telling the minister he might go to Lambi [391] and make experiment of the truth of his argument on his brother Raesal. Devidas lost no time, on this polite dismissal from his office, in proceeding with his family and property to Lambi. He was received with the usual hospitality; but soon discovered that Raesal’s means were too confined to bear an additional burden, and that the field was too restricted to enable him to demonstrate the truth of the argument which lost him his place. He made known his determination to proceed to the imperial city, and advised Raesal to accompany him, and try his luck at court. Raesal, who was valiant and not without ambition, could only equip twenty horse, with which he arrived at Delhi just as an army was forming to oppose one of those Afghan invasions, so common at that period. In the action which ensued, Raesal had the good fortune to distinguish himself by cutting down a leader of the enemy, in the presence of the imperial general, which had a decided influence on the event of the day. Inquiries were made for the brave unknown, who had performed this heroic deed; but as, for reasons which will be perceived, he kept aloof from the quarters of his countrymen, the argument of Devidas would never have been illustrated, had not the imperial commander determined to seek out and reward merit. He ordered a grand ziyafat, or ‘entertainment’ to be prepared for the chiefs of every grade in the army, who were commanded afterwards to pay their respects to the general. As soon as Raesal appeared, he was recognized as the individual of whom they were in search. His name and family being disclosed, his brother, Nunkaran, who 1384was serving with his quota, was called, whose anger was peremptorily expressed at his presuming to appear at court without his permission; but this ebullition of jealousy was of little avail. Raesal was at once introduced to the great Akbar, who bestowed upon him the title of Raesal Darbari,^[9] and a more substantial mark of royal favour, in a grant of the districts of Rewasa and Khasali, then belonging to the Chandela Rajputs. This was but the opening of Raesal’s career, for scarcely had he settled his new possessions, when he was recalled to court to take part in an expedition against Bhatner. Fresh services obtained new favours, and he received a grant of Khandela and Udaipur, then belonging to the Nirwan Rajputs, who disdained to pay allegiance to the empire, and gave themselves up to unlicensed rapine.

Khandela, the Shaikhawat Capital.

—Raesal, finding it would be a work of difficulty to expel the brave Nirwans from [392] their ancient bapota (patrimony), had recourse to stratagem to effect his object. Previous to the expedition to Bhatner, Raesal had espoused the daughter of the chief of Khandela, and it is related that a casual expression, dropped on that occasion, suggested his desire to obtain it for himself. Being dissatisfied with the dower (daeja) given with his bride, he, with no commendable taste, pertinaciously insisted upon an increase; upon which the Nirwan chief, losing patience, hastily replied, “We have nothing else to give, unless you take the stones of the hill.” The attendant Saguni (augur), immediately turning to Raesal, said, in an undertone, “Tie a knot on the skirt of your garment in remembrance of this.” An expression like this from a prophetic tongue gave birth to the wish to be lord of Khandela; while his services to the king, and the imbecility of its Nirwan possessor, conspired to fulfil it. Watching his opportunity, he marched against the place, and being in all probability supported by his liege lord, it was abandoned without defence, and the inhabitants tendered their submission to him. Henceforth, Khandela was esteemed 1385the principal city of the Shaikhawat confederation; and the descendants of Raesal, using his name as a patronymic, are styled Raesalot, occupying all southern Shaikhavati; while another branch of later origin, called Sadhani, holds the northern tracts. Immediately after the occupation of Khandela, Raesal obtained possession of Udaipur, formerly called Kausambi, also belonging to the Nirwans.^[10]

Raesal accompanied his proper liege lord, the great Raja Man of Amber, against the heroic Rana Partap of Mewar. He was also in the expedition to Kabul, against the Afghans of Kohistan, in all of which enterprises he obtained fresh distinctions. Regarding his death, there is no record;^[11] but his history is another illustration of the Rajput character, whilst it confirms the position of the Bania, that “genius and good fortune are far superior to inheritance.”

Raesal, at his death, had a compact and well-managed territory, out of which he assigned appanages to his seven sons, from whom are descended the various families, who, with relative distinctive patronymics, Bhojansi Sadhanis, Larkhanis, Tajkhanis, Parasurampotas, Harrampotas, are recognized throughout Rajwara by the generic name of Shaikhawat [393].

We shall not break the thread of the narrative of the elder branch of Khandela, “chief of the sons of Shaikhji,” to treat of the junior line, though the issue of Bhojraj have 1386eclipsed, both in population and property, the senior descendants of Raesal.

Girdharji Shaikhāwat.

—Girdharji succeeded to the prowess, the energy, and the estates of his father, and for a gallant action obtained from the emperor the title of Raja of Khandela. At this period, the empire was in a most disordered state, and the mountainous region, called Mewat, was inhabited by a daring and ferocious banditti, called Meos, who pillaged in gangs even to the gates of the capital. The task of taking, dead or alive, the leader of this banditti, was assigned to the chief of Khandela, who performed it with signal gallantry and success. Aware that, by the display of superior force, his enemy would remain in his lurking places, Girdhar put himself on terms of equality with his foe, and with a small but select band hunted the Mewati leader down, and in the end slew him in single combat. The career of Girdhar, short as it was brilliant, was terminated by assassination, while bathing in the Jumna. The anecdote is descriptive of the difference of manners between the rustic Rajput and the debauched retainer of the court.

Assassination of Girdharji.

—One of the Khandela chief’s men was waiting, in a blacksmith’s shop, while his sword was repaired and sharpened. A Muslim, passing by, thought he might have his jest with the unpolished Rajput, and after asking some impertinent questions, and laughing at the unintelligible replies in the Bhakha of Rajwara, slipped a heated cinder in the turban of the soldier: the insult was borne with great coolness, which increased the mirth of the Musalman, and at length the turban took fire. The sword was then ready, and the Thakur, after feeling the edge, with one blow laid the jester’s head at his feet. He belonged to one of the chief nobles of the court, who immediately led his retainers to the Khandela chief’s quarters, and thence to where he was performing his religious ablutions in the Jumna, and whilst engaged in which act, unarmed and almost unattended, basely murdered him. Girdhar left several children [394].

Dwārkadās.

—Dwarkadas, his eldest son, succeeded, and soon after his accession nearly fell a victim to the jealousy of the Manoharpur chief, the representative of the elder branch of the family, being the lineal descendant of Nunkaran. The emperor had caught a lion in the toils, and gave out a grand hunt, when the 1387Manoharpur chief observed that his relative, the Raesalot, who was a votary of Naharsingh,^[12] was the proper person to engage the king of the forest. Dwarkadas saw through his relative’s treachery, but cheerfully accepted the proposal. Having bathed and prayed, to the astonishment of the king and court, he entered the arena unarmed, with a brazen platter containing the various articles used in puja (worship), as grains of rice, curds, and sandal ointment, and going directly up to the monster, made the tilak on his forehead, put a chaplet round his neck, and prostrated himself in the usual attitude of adoration before the lion; when, to the amazement of the spectators, the noble beast came gently up, and with his tongue repeatedly licked his face, permitting him to retire without the least indication of anger. The emperor, who concluded that his subject must “wear a charmed life,” desired the Khandela chief to make any request, with the assurance of compliance; when he received a delicate reproof, in the desire “that his majesty would never place another person in the same predicament from which he had happily escaped.”

Dwarkadas was slain by the greatest hero of the age in which he lived, the celebrated Khan Jahan Lodi,^[13] who, according to the legends of the Shaikhawats, also fell by the hand of their lord; and they throw an air of romance upon the transaction, which would grace the annals of chivalry in any age or country. Khan Jahan and the chieftain of Khandela were sworn friends, and when nothing but the life of the gallant Lodi would satisfy the king, Dwarka gave timely notice to his friend of the hateful task imposed upon him, advising either submission or flight. His fate, which forms one of the most interesting episodes in Ferishta’s history,^[14] involved that of the Shaikhawat chief.

Bīrsinghdeo.

—He was succeeded by his son, Birsinghdeo, who served with his contingent in the conquest of the Deccan, and was made governor of Parnala, which he had materially assisted 1388in reducing.^[15] The Khandela annalist is desirous to make it appear that his service was independent of his liege lord of Amber; but the probability is that he was under the immediate command of the Mirza Raja Jai Singh, at that period the most distinguished general of his nation or of the court.

Birsinghdeo had seven sons, of whom the heir-apparent, Bahadur Singh, remained at [395] Khandela; while estates were assigned to his brothers, namely, Amar Singh, Shyam Singh, Jagdeo, Bhopal Singh, Mukri Singh, and Pem Singh, who all increased the stock of Raesalots. While the Raja was performing his duties in the Deccan, intelligence reached him that his son at home had usurped his title and authority; upon which, with only four horsemen, he left the army for his capital. When within two coss of Khandela, he alighted at the house of a Jatni, of whom he requested refreshment, and begged especial care of his wearied steed, lest he should be stolen; to which she sharply replied, “Is not Bahadur Singh ruler here? You may leave gold in the highway, and no one dare touch it.” The old chieftain was so delighted with this testimony to his son’s discharge of a prince’s duties, that, without disclosing himself or his suspicions, he immediately returned to the Deccan, where he died.

Bahādur Singh.

—Bahadur Singh succeeded, and on his father’s death repaired to the armies in the south, commanded by Aurangzeb in person. Being insulted by a Muslim chief bearing the same name with himself, and obtaining no redress from the bigoted prince, he left the army in disgust, upon which his name was erased from the list of mansabdars. It was at this time the tyrant issued his mandate for the capitation-tax on all his Hindu subjects, and for the destruction of their temples.^[16]

1389

Gallantry of Shujāwan Singh.

—To the personal enemy of the Shaikhawat was intrusted the twofold duty of exacting tribute, and the demolition of the temple, the ornament of Khandela, whose chief, degrading the name of Bahadur (warrior), abandoned his capital; and the royal army had arrived within two coss without the appearance of opposition. The news spread over the lands of the confederacy, that Bahadur had fled from Khandela, and that the Turk was bent on the destruction of its shrines. It reached the ear of Shujawan Singh, the chieftain of Chapauli, a descendant of Bhojraj, the second son of Raesal. Imbued with all the spirit of this hero, the brave Bhojani resolved to devote himself to the protection of the temple, or perish in its defence. At the moment the tidings reached him, he was solemnizing his nuptials on the Marwar frontier. Hastening home with his bride, he left her with his mother, and bade both a solemn [396] farewell. In vain his kindred, collecting round him, dissuaded him from his design, urging that it was Bahadur Singh’s affair, not his. “Am not I,” he said, “also of Raesal’s stock, and can I allow the Turk to destroy the dwelling of the Thakur (lord), and not attempt to save it? Would this be acting the part of a Rajput?” As their entreaties were vain, they, to the number of sixty, resolved to accompany him, and share his fate. They were joined by a party of Bahadur’s adherents, and succeeded in entering Khandela. The imperial commander, to whom this unlooked-for opposition was reported, well aware of what a Rajput is capable when excited to action, and perhaps moved by a generous feeling at seeing a handful of men oppose an army, requested that two of their number might be deputed to his camp to confer with him. He told them, that notwithstanding it was the king’s command that he should raze the temple to the ground, he would be satisfied (if accompanied by proper submission) with taking off the kalas, or golden ball which surmounted its pinnacle. They endeavoured to dissuade him; offered money to the utmost 1390possible amount of their means; but the answer was, “The kalas must come down.” One of these noble delegates, no longer able to contain himself, exclaimed, “Break down the kalas!” as with some moist clay at his feet he moulded a ball, which he placed on a little mound before him: and drawing his sword, repeated, “Break down the kalas! I dare you even to break this ball of clay!” The intrepidity of this action gained the applause even of the foe, and they had safe-conduct to rejoin their brethren, and prepare them for the worst.

The Siege of Khandela.

—At this time, Khandela had no fortifications; there was, however, a gateway half-way up the hill in the route of ascent, which led to the place of residence of its chieftains, adjoining which was the temple. One party was stationed in the gateway, while Shujawan reserved for himself the defence of the temple, in which he took post with his kinsmen. When the mercenaries of the tyrant advanced, the defenders of the gateway, alter dealing many a distant death, marched upon them sword in hand, and perished. When they pushed on to the chief object of attack, the band issued forth in small detached parties, having first made their obeisances to the image, and carried destruction along with them. Shujawan was the last who fell. The temple was levelled to the earth, the idol broken in pieces, and the fragments thrown into the foundation of a mosque erected on its ruins. There is hardly a town of note in Rajwara that has not to relate a similar tale of desperate valour in the defence of their household gods against the iniquitous and impolitic Aurangzeb. Khandela received a royal garrison; but the old officers, both territorial and financial, were retained by the conqueror [397].

Bahadur Singh continued to reside in an adjacent township, and through his Diwan obtained a certain share of the crops and transit duties, namely, a ser out of every maund of the former, and one pice in every rupee of the latter. In process of time the family residence and gardens were given up to him, and when the Sayyids obtained power he regained his country, though a garrison of the royal troops was retained, whose expenses he paid. He left three sons, namely, Kesari Singh, Fateh Singh, and Udai Singh.

Kesari Singh.

—Kesari, solicitous to hold his lands on the same terms as his ancestors, namely, service to the lord-paramount, assembled his adherents, and with his second brother, Fateh 1391Singh, departed for the imperial camp, to proffer his service. The Manoharpur chief, the elder branch of the family, was in the royal camp, and having regained his lost consequence by the depression of Khandela, was by no means willing again to part with it. He intrigued with the second brother, Fateh Singh, to whom he proposed a division of the lands; the latter lent himself to the intrigue, and the Diwan, seeing that a family quarrel would involve the destruction of them all, repaired to Khandela, and through the mother, a Gaur Rajputni, he advocated the partition. A census was accordingly made of the population, and a measurement of the lands, of which two portions were assigned to Fateh Singh, and the three remaining to the Raja. The town itself was partitioned in the same manner. Henceforth, the brothers held no intercourse with each other, and Kesari preferred Khatu ^[17] as his residence, though whenever he came to Khandela, Fateh Singh withdrew. Things remained in this state until the Diwan prompted his master to get rid of the agreement which had secured the ascendancy of Manoharpur in the Shaikhawat federation, by destroying his brother. The Diwan arranged a friendly meeting at Khatu for the avowed purpose of reconciliation, when Fateh Singh fell a victim to assassination; but the instigator to the crime met his proper reward, for a splinter of the sword which slew Fateh Singh entered his neck, and was the occasion of his death.

Kesari Singh, having thus recovered all his lost authority, from the contentions at court conceived he might refuse the tribute of Rewasa, hitherto paid to the Ajmer treasury, while that of Khandela went to Narnol.^[18] Sayyid Abdulla,^[19] then wazir, found leisure to resent this insult, and sent a force against Khandela. Every Raesalot in the country assembled to resist the Turk, and even his foe of Manoharpur sent his quota, led by the Dhabhai (foster-brother), to aid the national cause. Thus strengthened, Kesari determined to oppose the royal forces hand to hand in the plain, and [398] the rival armies encountered at the border town of Deoli.^[20] While victory manifested a wish to 1392side with the confederated Shaikhawats, the old jealousies of Manoharpur revived, and he withdrew his quota from the field, at the same moment that the Kasli chief, on whom much depended, was slain. To crown these misfortunes, the Larkhani chief of Danta, basely deeming this an opportunity to consult his own interest, abandoned the field, to take possession of Rewasa. The ‘lion’ of Khandela (Kesari), observing these defections, when the shout of “Jai! jai!” (victory, victory), already rang in his ears, could not help exclaiming, in the bitterness of despair, “Had Fateh Singh been here, he would not have deserted me.” He disdained, however, to give way, and prepared to meet his fate like a true Raesalot. Sending to where the battle yet raged for his youngest brother, Udai Singh, he urged him to save himself; but the young Rajput scorned obedience to such a behest, until Kesari made known his determination not to quit the field, adding that if he also were slain, there would be an end of his line. Others joined their persuasions, and even attempted to turn Kesari from his purpose. “No,” replied the chief, “I have no desire for life; two black deeds press upon me; the murder of my brother, and the curse of the Charans of Bikaner, whom I neglected at the distribution of the nuptial gifts. I will not add a third by dastardly flight.” As Udai Singh reluctantly obeyed, while the swords rang around him, Kesari made a hasty sacrifice to Avanimata (mother earth), of which flesh, blood, and earth are the ingredients. He cut pieces from his own body, but as scarcely any blood flowed, his own uncle, Mohkam Singh of Aloda, parted with some of his, for so grand an obligation as the retention of Khandela. Mixing his own flesh, and his uncle’s blood, with a portion of his own sandy soil, he formed small balls in dan (gift), for the maintenance of the land to his posterity. The Dom (bard), who repeated the incantations, pronounced the sacrifice accepted, and that seven generations of his line should rule in Khandela.^[21] The brave Kesari was slain, the town taken, and Udai Singh carried to Ajmer, where he remained three years in captivity. At this time, the chiefs of Udaipur and Kasli determined to cut off the royal garrison in Khandela; but 1393apprehensive of the danger it might occasion to their chief, they sent a special messenger to Ajmer, to acquaint the viceroy of their scheme, previous to its execution, to prevent his being implicated. Khandela was surprised, and Deonath and three hundred Turks put to the sword. The viceroy [399], desirous to recover the place, consulted his prisoner, who offered to reinstate him if he granted him liberty. The Nawab demanded a hostage, but the young Rajput said he knew of none but his own mother, who willingly became the pledge for her son. He fulfilled his agreement, and the viceroy was so pleased with his frank and loyal conduct, that on paying a large nazarana, he restored him to his capital.

Udai Singh.

—Udai Singh’s first act was to assemble his brethren, in order to punish Manoharpur, whose treachery had caused them so much misery. The foster-brother, who commanded on that occasion, was again entrusted with the command; but he fled after a sharp encounter, and Manoharpur was invested. Seeing he had no chance of salvation, he had again recourse to chal (stratagem). There were two feudatories of Nunkaran’s line, joint-holders of Khajroli, who had long been at variance with Dip Singh of Kasli, the principal adviser of the young Raja of Khandela. They were gained over to the purpose of the Manoharpur chief, who sent them with a private message to Dip Singh, that no sooner should Manoharpur fall than he would be deprived of Kasli. These treacherous proceedings were but too common amongst ‘the sons of Shaikhji.’ Dip Singh fell into the snare, and at break of day, when the trumpets sounded for the assault, the drums of the Kasli chief were heard in full march to his estate. Udai Singh, thus deprived of his revenge, followed Dip Singh who, aware of his inability to cope with his immediate chief, fled for succour to Jaipur, and Kasli fell a sacrifice to the artifices which preserved Manoharpur. The great Jai Singh then ruled Amber; he received the suppliant chief, and promised him ample redress, on his swearing to become his vassal and tributary. Dip Singh swore allegiance to the gaddi of Jai Singh, and signed a tributary engagement of four thousand rupees annually!

Supremacy of Jaipur in Shaikhawati.

—Thus recommenced the supremacy of Amber over the confederated Shaikhawats, which had been thrown off ever since the dispute regarding the colts 1394of Amritsar, the ancient mark of homage, when ‘the sons of Shaikhji’ consisted only of a few hundred armed men. Shortly after this transaction, Jai Singh proceeded to the Ganges to fulfil certain rites upon an eclipse, and while performing his ablutions in the sacred stream, and the gifts for distribution to the priests being collected on the bank, he inquired “who was present to receive dan that day?” The Kasli chief, spreading out the skirt of his garment, replied, he was an applicant. Such dan (gifts) being only given to mangtas, or mendicants, in which class they put priests, poets, and [400] the poor, the Raja asked, laughing, “What is your desire, Thakur?” To which Dip Singh replied, that through his intercession the son of Fateh Singh might obtain his father’s share of Khandela; which request was complied with.

This occurrence was in A.D. 1716, when the Jats were rising into power, and when all the minor Rajas served with their contingents under the great Jai Singh, as lieutenant of the emperor. Along with the princes of Karauli, Bhadauria, Sheopur, and many others of the third rank, was Udai Singh of Khandela. During the siege of Thun, the Shaikhawat chief was reprimanded for neglect of duty, and although he owed a double allegiance to Jai Singh, as his natural liege lord and lieutenant of the king, he would not brook the censure from one of his own race, and indignantly withdrew from the siege. Churaman the Jat, having contrived to make his peace with the Sayyid wazir, when Thun was upon the eve of surrender, and Udai Singh being implicated in this intrigue, Jai Singh, who was mortified at an occurrence which prevented the gratification of a long-cherished resentment against the upstart Jats, determined that the Khandela chief should suffer for his audacity. Attended by the imperialists under Bazid Khan, and all his home clans, he laid siege to the citadel called Udaigarh. Udai Singh held out a month in this castle he had constructed and called by his own name, when his resources failing, he fled to Naru ^[22] in Marwar, and his son, Sawai Singh, presented the keys, throwing himself on the clemency of the conqueror. He was well received, and pardoned, on condition of becoming tributary to Amber. He followed the example of the Kasli chief, and signed an engagement to pay annually one lakh of rupees. From this a deduction of fifteen thousand was 1395subsequently made, and in time being reduced twenty thousand more, sixty-five thousand continued to be the tribute of Khandela, until the decay of both the parent State and its scion, when the weakness of the former, and the merciless outrages of the predatory powers, Pathan and Mahratta, rendered its amount uncertain and difficult to realize. Moreover, recalling his promise to Dip Singh, he restored the division of the lands as existing prior to the murder of Fateh Singh, namely, three shares to Sawai Singh, with the title of chief of the Shaikhawats, and two to Dhir Singh, son of Fateh Singh. The young cousin chieftains, now joint-holders of Khandela, attended their liege lord with their contingent; and Udai Singh, taking advantage of their absence, with the aid of a band of outlawed Larkhanis, surprised and took Khandela. Attended by the Jaipur troops, the son performed the dutiful task of expelling his father from his inheritance, who again fled to Naru, where he resided [401] upon a pension of five rupees a day, given by his son, until his death. He, however, outlived Sawai Singh, who left three sons: Bindraban, who succeeded to Khandela; Shambhu, who had the appanage of Ranauli; and Kusal, having that of Piprauli.

2. The lovers of antiquity have only to make the search to find an abundant harvest, throughout all these countries, of ancient capitals and cities, whose names are hardly known even to the modern inhabitants. Of the ancient Rajor I have already spoken, and I now draw the attention of my countrymen to Abhaner, which boasts a very remote antiquity; and from an old stanza, we might imagine that its princes were connected with the Kaian dynasty of Persia. I copied it, some twenty years ago, from an itinerant bard, who had an imperfect knowledge of it himself, and I have doubtless made it more so, but it is still sufficiently intelligible to point at a remarkable coincidence:

Rājā Chand-kā Ābhāner
Bīahah Sanjog, āyo Girnār.
Dekh Bharat līyo bulāi.
Kiyo bidit, man bikasāi.
Byāo Sanjog, Parmalā barī.
Kos sāth-so man chit dharī;
“Tū betī Kaikum kī,
Nām Parmalā[A] ho.
Lekhā huā Kartār ko.
Yā jāna sabb ko”[A] [388]

[For the above version of the corrupt lines in the original, the Editor is indebted to Sir G. Grierson, who remarks that the meaning is not clear, and that in the original more than one dialect is used. He offers the following tentative translation: “Sanjog [dwelt] in the midst of Ābhāner of Rāja Chand. He came to Girnār. When Bharat saw him he summoned him. He [Sanjog] made known [his object], and his [Bharat’s] heart expanded. Sanjog married, he chose Parmalā for his bride. From a distance of sixty kos his heart and mind had attracted her. [He said to her] ‘Thou art the daughter of Kaikum. Thy name is Parmalā [i.e. “fairy garland”]. It was the writing of the Creator [i.e. “it was so fated”], this every one knew.’” There is no reason to suppose that the lady was a Persian.]

This is a fragment of a long poem relative to the rivalry of Raja Chand of Abhaner, and Raja Sursen of Indrapuri, who was betrothed to Parmala, daughter of Kaikum, and had gone to Girner, or Girnar, to espouse her, when the Abhaner prince abducted her. Raja Sursen of Indrapuri (Delhi), if the ancestor of the Suraseni, and founder of Surpuri, existed probably twelve hundred years before Christ. That sun-worshippers had established themselves in the peninsula of Saurashtra (whose capital was Junagarh-Girnar), its appellation, in the days of the Greeks of Bactria, as now, proves (see Strabo, Justin, etc.), but whether Kaikum, the father of Parmala, is the Kaiomurs of Firdausi, we shall not stop to inquire. The connexion between this peninsula and Persia was intimate in later times, so as even to give rise to the assertion that the Ranas of Mewar were descended from the Sassanian kings. It was my good fortune to discover Surpuri, on the Jumna, the residence of the rival of Chand of Abhaner, which city I leave to some one imbued with similar taste to visit, and merely add, he will find there an inscription in a kund or fountain dedicated to the Sun. The distance, however, seven hundred coss (kos sath so), whether from Indrapuri or Abhaner, to Girnar, even admitting them to be gao coss, would be too much. I believe this would make it eight hundred miles, and certainly, as the crow flies, it is not seven hundred. Interwoven with the story there is much about Raja Chambha, prince of Jajnagar, a city of great antiquity in Orissa, and containing some of the finest specimens of sculpture I ever saw. There is also mention of a Raja Saer (qu. Sahir or Siharas of Aror) of Parman. In 1804, I passed through Jajnagar, after the conquest of the province of Cuttack, with my regiment. At Jajnagar, my earliest friend, the late Captain Bellet Sealy, employed his pencil for several days with the sculptured remains. These drawings were sent to the authorities at Calcutta: perhaps this notice may rescue from oblivion the remains of Jajnagar, and of my deceased friend’s talent, for Captain Bellet Sealy was an ornament equally to private life and to his profession. He fell a victim to the fever contracted in the Nepal war. The ruins of Abhaner are on the Banganga, three coss east of Lalsont. [The speculations in this note are of no value. For the town of Jājpur in Cuttack, see a full account by Sir W. Hunter, Orissa, i. 265 f.; IGI, xiv. 10 f.]

16. The numerous ruined shrines and mutilated statues in every town and village, still attest the zeal with which the bigot’s orders were obeyed; nor is there an image of any antiquity with an entire set of features (except in spots impervious to his myrmidons), from Lahore to Cape Comorin. Omkarji, whose temple is on a small island of the Nerbudda, alone, it is said, supported his dignity in the indiscriminate attack on the deities of Hind. “If they are gods (said the tyrannical but witty iconoclast), let them evince their power, and by some miracle resist my commands.” Omkarji received the first blow on his head, as if imbued with mortal feeling, for the blood gushed from his nose and mouth, which prevented a repetition of the injury! This sensibility, though without the power of avenging himself, made Omkar’s shrine doubly respected, and it continues to be one of the best frequented and most venerated in these regions. [Numerous accounts of the destruction of Hindu temples by Aurangzeb have been collected by Jadunath Sarkar (History of Aurangzib, iii. 319 ff.). The Omkār temple at Māndhāta in the Nimār District, Central Provinces, is served by a priest of the Bhīlāla caste, half Bhīl, half Rājput, illustrating the mode by which aboriginal deities have been imported into Hinduism (IGI, xvii. 152; Russell, Tribes and Castes Central Provinces, ii. 294).]

CHAPTER 6

Bindrabandās.

—Bindrabandas steadfastly adhered to Madho Singh in the civil wars which ensued for the gaddi of Amber, and the latter, when success attended his cause, wished to reward the important services of his feudatory. At his request, he consented that the partition of the lands which had caused so much bloodshed should be annulled, and that Bindraban should rule as sole lord of Khandela. Five thousand men were placed under his command for the expulsion of the minor, Indar Singh, grandson of Deo Singh, who made a stout resistance for many months; but at length his little castle was no longer tenable, and he fled to Parsoli, where he again defended himself, and was again on the point of surrender, when an unexpected accident not only saved him from exile, but restored him to his rights.

Brāhmans commit Suicide.

—The mercenaries were supported at the sole charge of Bindraban, and as his ancestors left no treasury, he was compelled to resort to the contribution called 1396dand from his subjects, not even exempting the hierarchy. Piqued at this unusual demand, some of the wealthiest Brahmans expostulated with the Raja on this indignity to the order. But their appeals were disregarded by their chief, whose existence depended on supplies. The loss of influence as well as wealth being the fruit of this [402] disregard of their remonstrance, they had recourse to that singular species of revenge termed chandni, or self-immolation, and poignarded themselves in his presence, pouring maledictions on his head with their last breath. The blood of Brahmans now rested on the head of Bindraban; even amongst his personal friends he laboured under a species of excommunication, and his liege lord, Madho Singh of Amber, in order to expiate his indirect share in the guilt, recalled his troops, and distributed twenty thousand rupees to the Brahmans of his own capital. Indar Singh had thus time to breathe, and having collected all his retainers, wisely joined the Jaipur army assembling under the command of the celebrated Khushhaliram Bohra to chastise the Rao of Macheri, who was expelled and obliged to seek refuge with the Jats. In this service Indar Singh so much distinguished himself, that, on the payment of a nazarana of fifty thousand rupees, he recovered his lost share of Khandela, by a regular patta, or grant, of the Raja.

Tribal Feuds.

—Perpetual feuds, however, raged between these two kings of Khandela, each of whom had his castle, or fortified palace. Each day “there was war even in the gates” of Khandela, and at the hazard of prolixity we shall state how it was conducted, challenging the records of any civil war to produce an instance in which all the ties of blood and kindred were more disregarded than in this bellum plusquam civile.

Indar Singh had popularity on his side to balance the other’s superior power, and he was briskly pushing an attack on Udaigarh, the castle of his opponent, when he was joined by Raghunath Singh, the younger son of his foeman. This youth, who had the township of Kuchor in appanage, helped himself to three more, to retain which he sided with his father’s foe. Bindraban, in order to create a diversion, sallied out to attack Kuchor; to oppose which, his son, together with his nephew, Prithi Singh of Ranoli and his retainers, withdrew from the batteries to defend it. But the attack on Kuchor had already failed, and Bindraban was on his retreat to regain Khandela when he was intercepted. 1397The battle took place outside the city, whose gates were shut against friend and foe, to prevent a pell-mell entry. At the same time, the siege of Udaigarh was not slackened; it was defended by Govind Singh, the eldest son of Bindraban, while the batteries against it were commanded by another near kinsman, Nahar Singh of Cherana. For several days daily combats ensued, in which were to be seen father and son, uncles and nephews, and cousins within every degree of affinity, destroying each other. At length, both parties were exhausted and a compromise ensued, in which Indar Singh obtained the rights he had so manfully vindicated [403].

Attack by Najaf Kuli Khān.

—At this time, a dying and desultory effort to regain his lost power was made by Najaf Kuli Khan, at the head of the imperialists, who, conducted by the traitorous Macheri Rao, led the royal army into the lands of the confederacy to raise contributions, for which he was cordially and laudably detested. Nawal Singh of Nawalgarh, Bagh Singh of Khetri, Surajmall of Baswa,^[1] all chieftains of the Sadhanis, unable to comply with the requisitions, were carried off, and retained captive till ransomed for many lakhs of rupees; all eventually raised upon the impoverished husbandman and industrious merchant.

The din of civil war having ended, the ministers of religion never ceased pouring into the ears of Bindraban the necessity of expiation and oblations for the murder of their brethren, and he was daily sacrificing the birthright of his children, in grants of the best lands of Khandela, to these drones of society, when Govind, the heir-apparent, remonstrated, which was followed by the abdication of Bindraban, who, appropriating five townships and the impost duties of Khandela for his support, left the cares of government to his son.^[2]

Abdication of Bindraban: Govind Singh succeeds.

—Govind Singh did not long enjoy the honours of chief of the Raesalots. The year of his elevation having produced an unfavourable harvest, at the request of his vassal of Ranoli he proceeded to inspect the crops preparatory to a reduction in the assessment. Less superstitious than his father, he persevered in spite of the 1398predictions of the astrologer, who told him, “to beware the ides (amavas) of Pus,“^[3] and not to go abroad that day. In the course of the excursion, one of his personal attendants, a Rajput of Kajroli, had lost some valuable article entrusted to his charge, and the impetuous chief broadly taxed him with theft. His protestations of innocence were unavailing, and considering himself dishonoured by the imputation, which might possibly be followed by some disgraceful punishment, he determined to anticipate his chief, and murdered him that night. Govind left five sons, Narsingh, Surajmall (who had Dodia), Bagh Singh, Jawan Singh, and Ranjit, all of whom had families.

Murder of Govind Singh: Narsinghdās succeeds.

—Narsinghdas, his eldest son, succeeded. In spite of internal dissensions, occasional chastisement, and pecuniary exactions from the imperial armies, or those of their immediate liege lord of Amber, the confederated frerage of Shaikhavati had increased their territory and population. Only the shadow of a name now remained to the empire of the Great Mogul; and their own lord-paramount, satisfied with a certain degree of homage, tribute, and service on emergencies, was little inclined to trench [404] further upon their national independence. But a new enemy had now arisen, and though of their own faith, far more destructive than even the tolerant Islamite. Happy were the inhabitants of the desert who had an ocean of sand between them and this scourge of India, the insatiable Mahratta. After the fatal day of Merta, where the evil genius of Rajputana enabled De Boigne to give the last blow to her independence, the desultory hordes roved in bands through the lands of the confederation, plundering, murdering, and carrying off captive the principal chiefs or their children, as hostages for contributions they could not realise. These were dragged about after their armies, until the hardships and indignities they underwent made them sell every article of value, or until the charge of keeping, or the trouble of guarding them, rendered their prolonged captivity burdensome to the wandering Southrons.

1399

Marātha Inroads.

—Let us follow the path of the barbarians, and trace only one day’s acts of outrage. When the Mahrattas entered the lands of the federation, soon after the battle of Merta, they first attacked Bai.^[4] The inhabitants, knowing that they had no hope of mercy from these marauders, fled, carrying away all the effects they could to the larger towns, while a garrison of eighty Rajputs took post in the little castle, to defend the point of honour against this new assailant. Bai was stormed; not one Rajput would accept of quarter, and all were put to the sword. The enemy proceeded to Khandela, the route marked by similar tracks of blood. When within two coss of the town, the horde halted at Hodiganw, and a Pandit ^[5] was sent to Rao Indar Singh to settle the contribution, which was fixed at twenty thousand rupees, besides three thousand in ghus^[6] (bribe), for the Brahman negotiator. The two chiefs, who negotiated on the part of the joint Rajas of Khandela, proceeded with the Pandit to the enemy’s camp; their names were Nawal and Dalil. As it was out of their power to realise so large a sum, they were accompanied by the joint revenue officers of Khandela as ol, or hostage, when to their dismay, the Southron commander demurred, and said they themselves must remain. One of the chieftains, with the sang-froid which a Rajput never loses, coolly replied, that should not be, and taking his hukka from his attendant, began unceremoniously to smoke, when a rude Deccani knocked the pipe from his hand [405]. The Thakur’s sword was unsheathed in an instant, but ere he had time to use it a pistol-ball passed through his brain. Dalil Singh’s party, attempting to avenge their companion, were cut off to a man; and Indar Singh, who had left Khandela to learn how the negotiations sped, arrived just in time to see his clansmen butchered. He was advised to regain Khandela: “No,” replied the intrepid Raesalot; 1400“better that I should fall before the gates of Khandela than enter them after such disgrace, without avenging my kinsmen.” Dismounting from his horse, he turned him loose, his adherents following his example; and sword in hand they rushed on the host of assassins and met their fate. Indar Singh was stretched beside his vassals, and, strange to say, Dalil was the only survivor: though covered with wounds, he was taken up alive, and carried to the hostile camp.

Such was the opening scene of the lengthened tragedy enacted in Shaikhavati, when Mahratta actors succeeded to Pathans and Moguls: heirs to their worst feelings, without one particle of their magnanimity or courtesy. But the territory of the confederacy was far too narrow a stage; even the entire plain of India appeared at one time too restricted for the hydra-headed banditti, nor is there a principality, district, or even township, from the Sutlej to the sea, where similar massacres have not been known, and but for our interposition, such scenes would have continued to the present hour.

Partāp Singh.

—Partap Singh, who succeeded his brave father in his share of the patrimony, was at this crisis with his mother at Sikrai, a strong fort in the hills, ten miles from Khandela. To save the town, the principal men dug up the grain-pits, selling their property to release their minor chief from further trouble. Having obtained all they could, the enemy proceeded to the lands of the Sadhanis. Udaipur was the first assaulted, taken, and sacked; the walls were knocked down, and the floors dug up in search of treasure. After four days’ havoc, they left it a ruin, and marched against the northern chieftains of Singhana, Jhunjhunu, and Khetri. On the departure of the foe, young Partap and his kinsman, Narsingh, took up their abode in Khandela; but scarcely had they recovered from the effects of the Deccani incursion, before demands were made by their liege lord of Amber for the tribute. Partap made his peace by assigning a fourth of the harvest; but Narsingh, in the procrastinating and haughty spirit of his ancestors, despised an arrangement which, he said (and with justice), would reduce him to the level of a common Bhumia landholder.

Devi Singh.

—At this period, a remote branch of the Khandela Shaikhawats began to disclose a spirit that afterwards gained him distinction. Devi Singh, chieftain of Sikar, a [406] descendant 1401of Rao Tirmall of Kasli, had added to his patrimony by the usurpation of no less than twenty-five large townships, as Lohagarha, Koh, etc.; and he deemed this a good opportunity, his chief being embroiled with the court, to make an attack on Rewasa; but death put a stop to the ambitious views of the Sikar chieftain. Having no issue, he had adopted Lachhman Singh, son of the Shahpura Thakur; but the Jaipur court, which had taken great umbrage at these most unjustifiable assaults of the Sikar chief on his weaker brethren, commanded Nandram Haldia (brother of the prime minister Daulat Ram), collector of the Shaikhawat tribute, to attack and humble him. No sooner were the orders of the court promulgated, than all the Barwatias ^[7] gathered round the standard of the collector, to aid in the redemption of their patrimonies wrested from them by Sikar. Besides the Khandela chief in person, there were the Pattawats of Kasli, Bilara, and others of Tirmall’s stock; and even the Sadhanis, who little interfered in the affairs of the Raesalots, repaired with joy with their tribute and their retainers to the camp of the Jaipur commander, to depress the Sikar chief, who was rapidly rising over them all. Nearly the whole troops of the confederacy were thus assembled. Devi Singh, it may be imagined, was no common character, to have excited such universal hatred; and his first care had been to make strong friends at court, in order to retain what he had acquired. He had especially cultivated the minister’s friendship, which was now turned to account. A deputation, consisting of a Chondawat chief, the Diwan of Sikar, and that important character the Dhabhai, repaired to the Haldia, and implored him in the name of the deceased, not to give up his infant son to hungry and revengeful Barwatias. The Haldia said there was but one way by which he could avoid the fulfilment of his court’s command, which was for them, as he approached the place, to congregate a force so formidable from its numbers, as to exonerate him from all suspicion of collusion. With the treasury of Devi Singh, overflowing from the spoliation of the Kaimkhani of Fatehpur, it was easy to afford such indemnity to the Haldia, at whose approach to Sikar ten thousand men 1402appeared to oppose him. Having made a show of investing Sikar, and expended a good deal of ammunition, he addressed his court, where his brother was minister, stating he could make nothing of Sikar without great loss, both of time, men, and money, and advising an acceptance of the proffered submission. Without waiting a reply, he took two lakhs as a fine for his [407] sovereign, and a present of one for himself. The siege was broken up, and Sikar was permitted to prosecute his schemes; in which he was not a little aided by the continued feuds of the co-partner chiefs of Khandela. Partap took advantage of Narsingh’s non-compliance with the court’s requisition, and his consequent disgrace, to settle the feud of their fathers, and unite both shares in his own person; and stipulated in return to be responsible for the whole tribute, be ready with his contingent to serve the court, and pay besides a handsome nazarana or investiture. The Haldia was about to comply, when Rawal Indar Singh of Samod,^[8] chief of the Nathawat clan, interceded for Narsingh, and inviting him on his own responsibility to the camp, acquainted him with the procedure of his rival, in whose name the patent for Khandela was actually made out; “but even now,” said this noble chief, “I will stay it if you comply with the terms of the court.” But Narsingh either would not, or could not, and the Samod chief urged his immediate departure; adding that as he came under his guarantee, he was desirous to see him safe back, for “such were the crooked ways of the Amber house,” that if he prolonged his stay, he might be involved in ruin in his desire to protect him. Accordingly, at dusk, with sixty of his own retainers, he escorted him to Nawalgarh, and the next morning he was in his castle of Govindgarh. The precautions of the Samod chief were not vain, and he was reproached and threatened with the court’s displeasure, for permitting Narsingh’s departure; but he nobly replied, “he had performed the duty of a Rajput, and would abide the consequences.” As the sequel will further exemplify the corruptions of courts, and the base passions of kindred, under a system of feudal government, we shall trespass on the reader’s patience by recording the result.

Quarrel between Samod and Chaumūn.

—Samod and Chaumun are the chief houses of the Nathawat clan; the elder branch 1403enjoying the title of Rawal, with supremacy over the numerous vassalage. But these two families had often contested the lead, and their feuds had caused much bloodshed. On the disgrace of Indar Singh, as already related, his rival of Chaumun repaired to court, and offered so large a nazarana as to be invested with rights of seniority. Avarice and revenge were good advocates: a warrant was made out and transmitted to Indar Singh (still serving with the collector of the tribute) for the sequestration of Samod. Placing, like a dutiful subject, the warrant to his forehead, he instantly departed for Samod, and commanded the removal of his family, his goods and chattels, from the seat of his ancestors, and went into exile in Marwar. In after times, his Rani had a grant of the village of Piplai, to which the magnanimous, patriotic [408], and loyal Indar Singh, when he found the hand of death upon him, repaired, that he might die in the hands of the Kachhwahas, and have his ashes buried amongst his fathers. This man, who was naturally brave, acted upon the abstract principle of swamidharma, or ‘fealty,’ which is not even now exploded, in the midst of corruption and demoralization. Indar Singh would have been fully justified, according to all the principles which govern these States, in resisting the iniquitous mandate. Such an act might have been deemed rebellion by those who look only at the surface of things; but let the present lords-paramount go deeper, when they have to decide between a Raja and his feudatories, and look to the origin and condition of both, and the ties which alone can hold such associations together.

Partāp Singh secures Possession of Khandela.

—To return: Partap Singh, having thus obtained the whole of Khandela, commenced the demolition of a fortified gate, whence during the feuds his antagonist used to play some swivels against his castle. While the work of destruction was advancing, an omen occurred, foreboding evil to Partap. An image of Ganesa, the god of wisdom and protector of the arts (more especially of architecture), was fixed in the wall of this gate, which an ill-fated and unintentional blow knocked from its elevated position to the earth, and being of terra-cotta, his fragments lay dishonoured and scattered on the pavement. Notwithstanding this, the demolition was completed, and the long obnoxious gateway levelled with the earth. Partap, having adjusted affairs in the capital, 1404proceeded against Rewasa, which he reduced, and then laid siege to Govindgarh,^[9] aided by a detachment of the Haldia. Having encamped at Gura, two coss from it, and twice that distance from Ranoli, its chief, who still espoused the cause of his immediate head, the unfortunate Narsingh, sent his minister to the Haldia, offering not only to be responsible for all arrears due by Narsingh, but also a handsome douceur, to restore him to his rights. He repaired to Khandela, stationed a party in the fortified palace of Narsingh, and consented that they should be expelled, as if by force of his adherents, from Govindgarh. Accordingly, Surajmall and Bagh Singh, the brothers of Narsingh, in the dead of night, with one hundred and fifty followers, made a mock attack on the Haldia’s followers, expelled them, and made good a lodgment in their ancient dwelling. Partap was highly exasperated; and to render the acquisition useless, he ordered the possession of a point which commanded the mahall; but here he was anticipated by his opponent, whose party now poured into Khandela. He then cut off their supplies of water, by fortifying the reservoirs and wells, and this brought matters to a crisis. An action ensued, in which many were killed on each side, when [409] the traitorous Haldia interposed the five-coloured banner, and caused the combat to cease. Narsingh, at this juncture, joined the combatants in person, from his castle of Govindgarh, and a treaty was forthwith set on foot, which left the district of Rewasa to Partap, and restored to Narsingh his share of Khandela.

These domestic broils continued, however, and occasions were perpetually recurring to bring the rivals in collision. The first was on the festival of the Ganggor;^[10] the next on the Ranoli chief placing in durance a vassal of Partap, which produced a general gathering of the clans: both ended in an appeal to the lord-paramount, who soon merged the office of arbitrator in that of dictator.

The Sadhanis, or chieftains of northern Shaikhavati, began to feel the bad effects of these feuds of the Raesalots, and to express dissatisfaction at the progressive advances of the Jaipur court for the establishment of its supremacy. Until this period they had escaped any tributary engagements, and only recognized their connexion with Amber by marks of homage and fealty on 1405lapses, which belonged more to kindred than political superiority. But as the armies of the court were now perpetually on the frontiers, and might soon pass over, they deemed it necessary to take measures for their safety. The township of Tui, appertaining to Nawalgarh, had already been seized, and Ranoli was battered for the restoration of the subject of Partap. These were grievances which affected all the Sadhanis, who, perceiving they could no longer preserve their neutrality, determined to abandon their internal dissensions, and form a system of general defence. Accordingly, a general assembly of the Sadhani lords, and as many of the Raesalots as chose to attend, was announced at the ancient place of rendezvous, Udaipur. To increase the solemnity of the occasion, and to banish all suspicion of treachery, as well as to extinguish ancient feuds, and reconcile chiefs who had never met but in hostility, it was unanimously agreed that the most sacred pledge of good faith, the Nundab,^[11] or dipping the hand in the salt, should take place.

The entire body of the Sadhani lords, with all their retainers, met at the appointed time, as did nearly all the Raesalots, excepting the joint chieftains of Khandela, too deeply tainted with mutual distrust to take part in this august and national congress of all ‘the children of Shaikhji.’ It was decided in this grand council, that all internal strife should cease; and that for the future, whenever it might occur, there should [410] be no appeals to the arbitration of Jaipur; but that on all such occasions, or where the general interests were endangered, a meeting should take place at ‘the Pass of Udaipur,’ to deliberate and decide, but above all to repel by force of arms, if necessary, the further encroachments of the court. This unusual measure alarmed the court of Amber, and when oppression had generated determined resistance, it disapproved and disowned the proceedings of its lieutenant, who was superseded by Rora Ram, with orders to secure the person of his predecessor. His flight preserved him from captivity in the dungeons of Amber, but his estates, as well as those of the minister his brother, were resumed, and all their property was confiscated.

Treaty between the Shaikhāwats and Jaipur.

—The new commander, 1406who was a tailor by caste, was ordered to follow the Haldia to the last extremity; for, in these regions, displaced ministers and rebels are identical. It was expected, if they did not lose their heads, to see them in opposition to the orders of their sovereign lord, whose slaves they had so lately proclaimed themselves: in fact, a rebel minister in Rajwara is like an ex-Tory or ex-Whig elsewhere, nor does restoration to the councils of his sovereign, perhaps in a few short months after he carried arms against him, plundered his subjects, and carried conflagration in his towns, excite more than transient emotion. The new commander was eager to obtain the services of the assembled Shaikhawats against the Haldias, but experience had given them wisdom; and they not only exacted stipulations befitting their position, as the price of this aid, but, what was of more consequence, negotiated the conditions of their future connexion with the lord-paramount.

The first article was the immediate restoration of the townships which the Haldia had seized upon, as Tui, Gwala, etc.

The second, that the court should disavow all pretensions to exact tribute beyond what they had voluntarily stipulated, and which they would remit to the capital.

Third, that on no account should the armies of the court enter the lands of the confederation, the consequences of which had been so strongly marked in the atrocities at Khandela.

Fourth, that the confederacy would furnish a contingent for the service of the court, which should be paid by the court while so employed.

The treaty being ratified through the intervention of the new commander, and having received in advance 10,000 rupees for their expenses, the chiefs with their retainers repaired to the capital, and after paying homage to their liege lord, zealously set to work to execute its orders on the Haldia faction, who were dispossessed of their [411] estates. But, as observed in the annals of the parent State, Jaipur had obtained the distinction of the jhutha darbar, or ‘lying court,’ of the justness of which epithet it afforded an illustration in its conduct to the confederated chieftains, who soon discovered the difference between promises and performance. They had done their duty, but they obtained not one of the advantages for which they agreed to serve the court; and they had the mortification to see they had merely 1407displaced the garrisons of the Haldia for those of Rora Ram. After a short consultation, they determined to seek themselves the justice that was denied them; accordingly, they assaulted in succession the towns occupied by Rora Ram’s myrmidons, drove them out, and made them over to their original proprietors.

Treacherous Arrest of Narsingh and other Chiefs.

—At the same time, the court having demanded the usual tribute from Narsinghdas, which was always in arrear, he had the imprudence to stone the agent, who was a relation of the minister. He hastened to the Presence, “threw his turban at the Raja’s feet,” saying, he was dishonoured for ever. A mandate was instantaneously issued for the sequestration of Khandela and the capture of Narsingh, who bade his liege lord defiance from his castle of Govindgarh: but his co-partner, Partap Singh, having no just cause of apprehension, remained in Khandela, which was environed by the Jaipur troops under Asaram. His security was his ruin; but the wily Bania (Asaram), who wished to seize at once the joint holders of the estate, offered no molestation to Partap, while he laid a plot for the other. He invited his return, on the bachan, or ‘pledge of safety,’ of the Manoharpur chief. Narsingh did not hesitate, for rank as was the character of his countrymen in these degenerate days, no Rajput had ever incurred the epithet of Bachanchuk, tenfold more odious than that of murderer, and which no future action, however brilliant, could obliterate, even from his descendants to the latest posterity. On the faith of this bachan, Narsingh came, and a mock negotiation was carried on for the arrears of tribute, and a time fixed for payment. Narsingh returned to Khandela, and Asaram broke up his camp and moved away. The crafty Bania, having thus successfully thrown him off his guard, on the third day rapidly retraced his steps, and at midnight surrounded Narsingh in his abode, who was ordered to proceed forthwith to the camp. Burning with indignation, he attempted self-destruction, but was withheld; and accompanied by a few Rajputs who swore to protect or die with him, he joined Asaram to see the issue.

A simple plan was adopted to secure Partap, and he fearlessly obeyed the summons. Both parties remained in camp; the one was amused with a negotiation for [412] his liberation on the payment of a fine; the other had higher hopes; and in the indulgence of both, their vassals relaxed in vigilance. While 1408they were at dinner, a party planted in ambuscade rushed out, and before they could seize their arms, made captive both the chiefs. They were pinioned like felons, put into a covered carriage, despatched under the guard of five hundred men to the capital, and found apartments ready for them in the state-prison of Amber. It is an axiom with these people, that the end sanctifies the means; and the prince and his minister congratulated each other on the complete success of the scheme. Khandela was declared khalisa (fiscal), and garrisoned by five hundred men from the camp, while the inferior feudatories, holding estates detached from the capital, were received on terms, and even allowed to hold their fiefs on the promise that they did not disturb the sequestrated lands.

CHAPTER 7

Dīnarām Bohra organizes an Attack on the Sadhānis.

—Dinaram Bohra was now (A.D. 1798-9) prime minister of Jaipur, and he no sooner heard of the success of Asaram, than he proceeded to join him in person, for the purpose of collecting the tribute due by the Sadhani chiefs. Having formed a junction with Asaram at Udaipur, they marched to Parasurampur, a town in the heart of the Sadhanis, whence they issued commands for the tribute to be brought; [413] to expedite which, the ministers sent dhus^[1] to all the townships of the confederacy. This insulting process irritated the Sadhanis to such a degree that they wrote to Dinaram to withdraw his parties instantly, and retrace his steps to Jhunjhunu, or abide the consequences; declaring, if he did so, that the collective tribute, of which ten thousand was then ready, would be forthcoming. All had assented to this arrangement but Bagh Singh, brother of the captive prince of Khandela, who was so incensed at the faithless conduct of the court, after the great services they had so recently performed, that he determined to oppose by force of arms this infraction of their charter, which declared the inviolability of the territory of the confederation 1409so long as the tribute was paid. He was joined by five hundred men of Khetri, with which having levied contributions at SinghanaSinghana and Fatehpur from the traitorous lord of Sikar, he invited to their aid the celebrated George Thomas, then carving out his fortunes amongst these discordant political elements.

Battle of Fatehpur, Defeat of Jaipur Army by George Thomas, A.D. 1799.—Nearly the whole of the Jaipur mercenary and feudal army was embodied on this occasion, and although far superior in numbers to the confederation, yet the presence of Thomas and his regulars more than counterpoised their numerical inferiority. The attack of Thomas was irresistible; the Jaipur lines led by Rora Ram gave way, and lost several pieces of artillery. To redeem what the cowardice and ill-conduct of the general-in-chief had lost, the chieftain of Chaumun formed a gol or dense band of the feudal chivalry, which he led in person against Thomas’s brigade, charging to the mouths of his guns. His object, the recovery of the guns, was attained with great slaughter on each side. The Chaumun chief (Ranjit Singh) was desperately wounded, and Bahadur Singh, Pahar Singh, chiefs of the Khangarot clans, with many others, were slain by discharges of grape; the guns were retrieved, and Thomas and his auxiliaries were deprived of a victory, and ultimately compelled to retreat.^[2]

The captive chiefs of Khandela deemed this revolt and union of their countrymen favourable to their emancipation, and addressed them to this effect. A communication was made to the discomfited Rora Ram, who promised his influence, provided an efficient body of Raesalots joined his camp, and by their services seconded their [414] requests. Bagh Singh was selected; a man held in high esteem by both parties, and even the court manager of Khandela found it necessary to retain his services, as it was by his influence only over his unruly brethren that he was enabled to make anything of the new fiscal lands. For this purpose, and to preserve the point of honour, the manager permitted Bagh Singh to remain in the fortified palace of Khandela, 1410with a small party of his brethren; but on being selected to lead the quotas of his countrymen with the court commander, he left his younger brother, Lachhman Singh, as his deputy.

Hanwant Singh captures Khandela.

—No sooner did it reach the ears of Hanwant Singh of Saledi, son of the captive Partap, that Bagh Singh had joined the army, than, in the true spirit of these relentless feuds, he determined to attempt the castle. As soon as the darkness of night favoured his design, he hastened its accomplishment, escaladed it, and put the unprepared garrison to the sword. Intelligence of this event reached Bagh Singh at Ranoli, who instantly countermarched, and commenced the assault, into which even the townspeople entered heartily, inspired as they were with indignation at the atrocious murder of the young chief. The day was extremely hot; the defendants fought for their existence, for their leader could not hope for mercy. The assailants were served with the best food; such was the enthusiasm, that even the women forgot their fears, and cheered them on as the ladders were planted against the last point of defence. Then the white flag was displayed, and the gate opened, but the murderer had fled.

Manjidas succeeded Dinaram as minister of Jaipur; and Rora Ram, notwithstanding his disgraceful defeat and the lampoons of the bards, continued to be collector of the Shaikhawat tribute, and farmed the fiscal lands of Khandela to a Brahman for twenty thousand rupees annually. This Brahman, in conjunction with another speculative brother, had taken a lease of the Mapa Rahdari, or town and transit duties at Jaipur, which having been profitable, they now agreed to take on lease the sequestrated lands of Khandela. Having not only fulfilled their contract the first year, but put money in their pocket, they renewed it for two more. Aided by a party of the Silahposhians ^[3] of the court, the minister of religion showed he was no messenger of peace, and determined to make the most of his ephemeral power, he not only levied contributions on the yet independent feudatories, but attacked those who resisted, and carried several of their castles sword in hand. The brave ‘sons of Raesal’ could not bear this new mark of contumely and bad faith of the court,—“to be made the sport of a tailor and a Brahman,”—and having received intimation from the captive [415] chiefs that there was 1411no hope of their liberty, they at once threw away the scabbard and commenced a scene of indiscriminate vengeance, which the Rajput often has recourse to when urged to despair. They at once assailed Khandela, and in spite of the resistance of seven thousand Dadupanthis,^[4] dispossessed the Purohit, and sacked it. Then advancing within the Jaipur domains, they spread terror and destruction, pillaging even the estates of the queen. Fresh troops were sent against them, and after many actions the confederacy was broken up. The Ranoli chief and others of the elder branches made their peace, but the younger branches fled the country, and obtained saran (sanctuary) and subsistence in Marwar and Bikaner: Sangram Singh of Sujawas (cousin to Partap) sought the former, Bagh Singh and Suraj Singh the latter, whose prince gave them lands. There they abode in tranquillity for a time, looking to that justice from the prince which tributary collectors knew not; but when apathy and neglect mistook the motive of this patient suffering, he was aroused from his indifference to the fate of the brave Barwatias, by the tramp of their horses’ feet even at the gates of his capital.

Sangram Singh headed the band of exiles, which spread fear and desolation over a great portion of Dhundhar. In many districts they established rakhwali;^[5] and wherever they succeeded in surprising a thana (garrison) of their liege lord, they cut it up without mercy. They sacked the town of Koh, within a few miles of the city of Jaipur, from under whose walls they carried off horses to mount their gang. Animated by successful revenge, and the excitement of a life so suited to the Rajput, Sangram became the leader of a band of several hundred horse, bold enough to attempt anything. Complaints for redress poured in upon the court from all quarters, to which a deaf ear might have been turned, had they not been accompanied with applications for reduction of rent. The court at length, alarmed at this daring desperado, made overtures to him through Shyam Singh Sadhani, the chief of Baswa, on whose bachan (pledge) Sangram consented to appear before his liege lord. As soon as he arrived under the walls of the city, his cavalcade was surrounded by all classes, but particularly the Sikh mercenaries, all of whom recognized 1412their property, some a horse, some a camel, others arms, etc.; but none durst advance a claim to their own, so daring was their attitude and so guarded their conduct. The object of the minister was to secure the person of Sangram, regardless of the infamy which would attach to the chief who, at his desire, had pledged himself for his safety. But Shyam Singh [416], who had heard of the plot, gave Sangram warning. In forty-eight hours, intelligence reached the court that Sangram was in Tuarvati,^[6] and that, joined by the Tuars and Larkhanis, he was at the head of one thousand horse. He now assailed the large fiscal towns of his prince; contributions were demanded, and if they could not be complied with, he carried off in ol (hostage) the chief citizens, who were afterwards ransomed. If a delay occurred in furnishing either, the place was instantly given over to pillage, which was placed upon a body of camels. The career of this determined Barwatia was at length closed. He had surrounded the town of Madhopur, the estate of one of the queens, when a ball struck him in the head. His body was carried to Ranoli and burnt, and he had his cenotaph amongst the Jujhars ^[7] (those slain in battle) of his fathers. The son of Sangram succeeded to the command and the revenge of his father, and he continued the same daring course, until the court restored his patrimony of Sujawas. Such were the tumultuous proceedings in Shaikhavati, when an event of such magnitude occurred as to prove an epoch in the history of Rajputana, and which not only was like oil effused upon their afflictions, but made them prominent to their own benefit in the transaction.

The War on account of Krishna Kunwāri.

—That grand international war, ostensibly for the hand of the Helen of Rajwara, was on the point of bursting forth. The opening scene was in Shaikhavati, and the actors chiefly Sadhanis. It will be recollected, that though this was but the underplot of a tragedy, chiefly got up for the deposal of Raja Man of Jodhpur, in favour of Dhonkal Singh, Racchand was then Diwan, or prime minister, of Jaipur; and to forward his master’s views for the hand of Krishna, supported the cause of the pretender.

New Treaty with Jaipur.

—The minister sent his nephew, 1413Kirparam, to obtain the aid of the Shaikhawats, who appointed Kishan Singh as interpreter of their wishes, while the Kher ^[8] assembled at ‘the Pass of Udaipur.’ There a new treaty was formed, the main article of which was the liberation of their chieftains, the joint Rajas of Khandela, and the renewal of the ancient stipulations regarding the non-interference of the court in their internal arrangements, so long as they paid the regulated tribute. Kishan Singh, the organ of the confederation, together with Kirparam, left the assembly for the capital, where they soon returned with the ratification of their wishes. On these conditions ten thousand of the sons of Shaikhji were embodied, and ready to accompany their lord-paramount wherever he might lead them, receiving peti, or subsistence, while out of their own lands.

These preliminaries settled, Shyam Singh Champawat (nephew of the Pokaran [417] chief), with Kirparam repaired to Khetri, whence they conveyed the young pretender, Dhonkal Singh, to the camp of the confederates. They were met by a deputation headed by the princess Anandi Kunwar (daughter of the late Raja Partap, and one of the widows of Raja Bhim of Marwar, father of the pretender), who received the boy in her arms as the child of her adoption, and forthwith returned to the capital, where the army was forming for the invasion of Marwar.

It moved to Khatu, ten coss from Khandela, where they waited the junction of the Bikaner Raja and other auxiliaries. The Shaikhawat lords here sent in their imperative demand for the liberation of the sons of Raesal, “that they might march under a leader of their own, equal in celebrity to the proudest of that assembled host.” Evasion was dangerous; and in a few days their chiefs were formally delivered to them. Even the self-abdicated Bindraban could not resist this general appeal to arms. The princes encamped in the midst of their vassals, nor was there ever such a convocation of ‘the sons of Shaikhji’: Raesalots, Sadhanis, Bhojanis, Larkhanis, and even the Barwatias, flocked around the ‘yellow banner of Raesal.’ The accounts of the expedition are elsewhere narrated,^[9] and we shall only add that the Shaikhawats participated in all its glory and all its disgrace, and lost both Rao Narsingh and his father ere they returned to their own lands.

1414

Abhai Singh.

—Abhai Singh, the son of Narsingh, succeeded, and conducted the contingent of his countrymen until the ill-starred expedition broke up, when they returned to Khandela. But the faithless court had no intention of restoring the lands of Khandela. Compelled to look about for a subsistence, with one hundred and fifty horse, they went to Raja Bakhtawar Singh of Macheri; but he performed the duties of kindred and hospitality so meanly, that they only remained a fortnight. In this exigence, Partap and his son repaired to the Mahratta leader, Bapu Sindhia, at Dausa,^[10] while Hanwant, in the ancient spirit of his race, determined to attempt Govindgarh. In disguise, he obtained the necessary information, assembled sixty of his resolute clansmen, whom he concealed at dusk in a ravine, whence, as soon as silence proclaimed the hour was come, he issued, ascended the well-known path, planted his ladders, and cut down the sentinels ere the garrison was alarmed. It was soon mastered, several being killed and the rest turned out. The well-known beat of the Raesalot nakkaras awoke the Larkhanis, Minas, and all the Rajputs in the vicinity, who immediately repaired to the castle. In a few weeks the gallant Hanwant was at the head of two thousand men, prepared to act offensively against [418] his faithless liege lord. Khandela and all the adjacent towns surrendered, their garrisons flying before the victors, and Khushhal Daroga, a name of note in all the intrigues of the darbar of that day, carried to court the tidings of his own disgrace, which, his enemies took care to proclaim, arose from his cupidity: for though he drew pay and rations for a garrison of one hundred men, he only had thirty. Accompanied by Ratan Chand, with two battalions and guns, and the reproaches of his sovereign, he was commanded at his peril to recover Khandela. The gallant Hanwant disdained to await the attack, but advanced outside the city to meet it, drove Khushhal back, and had he not in the very moment of victory been wounded, while the Larkhanis hung behind, would have totally routed them. Hanwant was compelled to retreat within the walls, where he stood two assaults, in one of which he slew thirty Silahposh, or men in armour, the body-guard of the prince; but the only water of the garrison being from tankhas (reservoirs), he was on the point of surrendering 1415at discretion, when an offer of five townships being made, he accepted the towns.

Another change took place in the ministry of Amber at this period; and Khushhaliram, at the age of fourscore and four years, was liberated from the state-prison of Amber, and once more entrusted with the administration of the government. This hoary-headed politician, who, during more than half a century, had alternately met the frowns and the smiles of his prince, at this the extreme verge of existence, entered with all the alacrity of youth into the tortuous intrigues of office, after witnessing the removal of two prime ministers, his rivals, who resigned power and life together. Khushhaliram had remained incarcerated since the reign of Raja Partap, who, when dying, left three injunctions; the first of which was, that ‘the Bohra’ (his caste) should never be enfranchised; but if in evil hour his successor should be induced to liberate him “he should be placed uncontrolled at the head of affairs.”^[11]

When this veteran politician, whose biography would fill a volume,^[12] succeeded to the helm at Jaipur, a solemn deputation of the principal Shaikhawat chieftains repaired to the capital, and begged that through his intercession they might be restored to the lands of their forefathers. The Bohra, who had always kept up, as well from [419] sound principle as from personal feeling, a good understanding with the feudality, willingly became their advocate with his sovereign, to whom he represented that the defence of the State lay in a willing and contented vassalage: for, notwithstanding their disobedience and turbulence, they were always ready, when the general weal was threatened, to support it with all their power. He appealed to the late expedition, when ten thousand of the children of Shaikhji were embodied 1416in his cause, and what was a better argument, he observed, the Mahrattas had only been able to prevail since their dissensions amongst themselves. The Bohra was commanded to follow his own goodwill and pleasure; and having exacted an engagement, by which the future tribute of the Raesalots was fixed at sixty thousand rupees annually, and the immediate payment of a nazarana of forty thousand, fresh pattas of investiture were made out for Khandela and its dependencies. There are so many conflicting interests in all these courts, that it by no means follows that obedience runs on the heels of command; even though the orders of the prince were countersigned by the minister, the Nagas,^[13] who formed the garrison of Khandela, and the inferior fiefs, showed no disposition to comply. The gallant Hanwant, justly suspecting the Bohra’s good faith, proposed to the joint rajas a coup de main, which he volunteered to lead. They had five hundred retainers amongst them; of these Hanwant selected twenty of the most intrepid, and repaired to Udaigarh, to which he gained admission as a messenger from himself; twenty more were at his heels, who also got in, and the rest rapidly following, took post at the gateway. Hanwant then disclosed himself, and presented the fresh patta of Khandela to the Nagas, who still hesitating to obey, he drew his sword, when seeing that he was determined to succeed or perish, they reluctantly withdrew, and Abhai and Partap were once more inducted into the dilapidated abodes of their ancestors. The adversity they had undergone, added to their youth and inexperience, made them both yield a ready acquiescence to the advice of their kinsman, to whose valour and conduct they owed the restoration of their inheritance, and the ancient feuds, which were marked on every stone of their castellated mahalls, were apparently appeased.

The Shaikhāwats attack Amīr Khān.

—Shortly after this restoration, the Shāikhawat contingents were called out to serve against the common enemy of Rajputana, the notorious Amir Khan, whose general, Muhammad Shah Khan, was closely blockaded in the fortress of Bhumgarh, near Tonk, by the whole strength of Jaipur, commanded by Rao Chand Singh of Dhani 1417An incident occurred, while the siege was approaching a successful conclusion, which [420] well exemplifies the incorrigible imperfections of the feudal system, either for offensive or defensive operations. This incident, trivial as it is in its origin, proved a death-blow to these unfortunate princes, so long the sport of injustice, and appears destined to falsify the Dom, who prophesied, on the acceptance of his self-sacrifice, that seven successive generations of his issue should occupy the gaddi of Khandela. In the disorderly proceedings of this feudal array, composed of all the quotas of Amber, a body of Shaikhawats had sacked one of the townships of Tonk, in which a Gugawat inhabitant was slain, and his property plundered, in the indiscriminate pell-mell. The son of the Gugawat instantly carried his complaints to the besieging general, Chand Singh, the head of his clan, who gave him a party of the Silahposh (men in armour) to recover his property. The Shaikhawats resisted, and reinforced their party; Chand Singh did the same; the Khandela chiefs repaired in person, accompanied by the whole confederacy with the exception of Sikar: and the Gugawat chief, who had not only the ties of clanship, but the dignity of commander-in-chief, to sustain, sent every man he could spare from the blockade. Thus nearly the whole feudal array of Amber was collected round a few hackeries ^[14] (carts), ready to cut each other to pieces for the point of honour: neither would relinquish the claim, and swords were already drawn, when the Khangarot chief stepped between them as peacemaker, and proposed an expedient which saved the honour of both, namely, that the plundered property should be permitted to proceed to its destination, the Khandela prince’s quarters, who should transmit it, “of his own accord,” to the commander-in-chief of the army. The Shaikhawats assented; the havoc was prevented; but the pride of Chand Singh was hurt, who saw in this a concession to the commander of the army, but none to the leader of the Gugawats.

Lachhman Singh, the chief of Sikar, who, as before stated, was the only Shaikhawat who kept aloof from the affray, saw the moment was arrived for the accomplishment of his long-concealed desire to be lord of Khandela. The siege of Bhumgarh being broken up, in consequence of these dissensions and the defection of the confederated Shaikhawats, the Sikar chief no 1418sooner saw them move by the circuitous route of the capital, than he marched directly for his estates, and throwing aside all disguise, attacked Sisa, which by an infamous stratagem he secured, by inveigling the commandant, the son of the late Bohra minister. Then making overtures to the enemy, against whom he had just been fighting, for the sum of two lakhs of rupees, he obtained a brigade of the mercenary Pathans, under their leaders Manu and Mahtab Khan [421], the last of whom, but a few days before, had entered into a solemn engagement with Hanwant, as manager for the minor princes, to support whose cause, and to abstain from molesting their estates, he had received fifty thousand rupees! Such nefarious acts were too common at that period even to occasion remark, far less reprehension.

Siege of Khandela.

—The gallant Hanwant now prepared for the defence of the lands which his valour had redeemed. His foeman made a lavish application of the wealth which his selfish policy had acquired, and Rewasa and other fiefs were soon in his possession. The town of Khandela, being open, soon followed, but the castle held out sufficiently long to enable him to strengthen and provision Kot, which he determined to defend to the last. Having withstood the attacks of the enemy, during three weeks, in the almost ruined castle, he sallied out sword in hand, and gained Kot, where he assembled all those yet faithful to the family, and determined to stand or fall with the last stronghold of Khandela. The other chiefs of the confederation beheld with indignation this unprovoked and avaricious aggression on the minor princes of Khandela, not only because of its abstract injustice, but of the undue aggrandizement of this inferior branch of the Raesalots, and the means employed, namely, the common enemy of their country. Many leagued for its prevention, but some were bribed by the offer of a part of the domain, and those who were too virtuous to be corrupted, found their intentions defeated by the necessity of defending their own homes against the detachments of Amir Khan, sent by desire of Sikar to neutralize their efforts. The court was steeled against all remonstrance, from the unhappy rupture at Bhumgarh, the blockade of which, it was represented, was broken by the conduct of the followers of Khandela.

Death of Hanwant Singh.

—Hanwant and some hundreds of his brave clansmen were thus left to their own resources. During 1419three months they defended themselves in a position outside the castle, when a general assault was made on his intrenchments. He was advised to retreat into the castle, but he nobly replied, “Khandela is gone for ever, if we are reduced to shelter ourselves behind walls”; and he called upon his brethren to repel the attack or perish. Hanwant cheered on his kinsmen, who charged the battalions sword in hand, drove them from their guns, and completely cleared the intrenchments. But the enemy returned to the conflict, which lasted from morn until nightfall. Another sortie was made; again the enemy was ignominiously dislodged, but the gallant Hanwant, leading his men to the very muzzle of the guns, received a shot which ended his career. The victory remained with the besieged, but the death of their leader [422] disconcerted his clansmen, who retired within the fort. Five hundred of the mercenary Pathans and men of Sikar (a number equal to the whole of the defenders) accompanied to the shades the last intrepid Raesalot of Khandela.

The next morning an armistice for the removal of the wounded and obsequies of the dead was agreed to, during which terms were offered, and refused by the garrison. As soon as the death of Hanwant was known, the Udaipur chief, who from the first had upheld the cause of justice, sent additional aid both in men and supplies; and had the Khetri chief been at his estates, the cause would have been further supported; but he was at court, and had left orders with his son to act according to the advice of the chief of Baswa, who had been gained over to the interests of Sikar by the bribe of participation in the conquered lands. Nevertheless, the garrison held out, under every privation, for five weeks longer, their only sustenance at length being a little Indian corn introduced by the exertions of individual Minas. At this extremity, an offer being made of ten townships, they surrendered. Partap Singh took his share of this remnant of his patrimony, but his co-heir Abhai Singh inherited too much of Raesal’s spirit to degrade himself by owing aught to his criminal vassal and kinsman. It would have been well for Partap had he shown the same spirit; for Lachhman Singh, now lord of Khandela, felt too acutely the injustice of his success, to allow the rightful heir to remain upon his patrimony; and he only allowed sufficient time to elapse for the consolidation of his acquisition, before he expelled the young prince. Both the co-heirs, Abhai Singh and Partap, 1420now reside at Jhunjhunu, where each receives five rupees a day, from a joint purse made for them by the Sadhanis, nor at present ^[15] is there a ray of hope of their restoration to Khandela.

In 1814, when Misr Sheonarayan, then minister of Jaipur, was involved in great pecuniary difficulties, to get rid of the importunities of Amir Khan, he cast his eyes towards the Sikar chief, who had long been desirous to have his usurpation sanctioned by the court; and it was stipulated that on the payment of nine lakhs of rupees (namely, five from himself, with the authority and force of Jaipur to raise the rest from the Sadhanis), he should receive the patta of investiture of Khandela. Amir Khan, the mutual agent on this occasion, was then at Ranoli, where Lachhman Singh met him and paid the amount, receiving his receipt, which was exchanged for the grant under the great seal.

Lachhman Singh gains Influence at Jaipur.

—Immediately after, Lachhman Singh proceeded to court, and upon the further payment [423] of one year’s tribute in advance, henceforth fixed at fifty-seven thousand rupees, he received from the hands of his liege lord, the Raja Jagat Singh, the khilat of investiture. Thus, by the ambition of Sikar, the cupidity of the court, and the jealousies and avarice of the Sadhanis, the birthright of the lineal heirs of Raesal was alienated.

Lachhman Singh, by his talents and wealth, soon established his influence at the court of his sovereign; but the jealousy which this excited in the Purohit minister of the day very nearly lost him his dearly bought acquisition. It will be recollected that a Brahman obtained the lease of the lands of Khandela, and that for his extortions he was expelled with disgrace. He proceeded, however, in his career of ambition; subverted the influence of his patron Sheonarayan Misr, forcing him to commit suicide, ruined the prospects of his son, and by successful and daring intrigue established himself in the ministerial chair of Amber. The influence of Lachhman Singh, who was consulted on all occasions, gave him umbrage, and he determined to get rid of him. To drive him into opposition to his sovereign was his aim, and to effect this there was no better method than to sanction an attack upon Khandela. The Sadhanis, whose avarice and jealousies made them overlook their true interests, readily united to the troops of the court, and Khandela was besieged. Lachhman 1421Singh, on this occasion, showed he was no common character. He tranquilly abided the issue at Jaipur, thus neutralizing the malignity of the Purohit, while, to ensure the safety of Khandela, a timely supply of money to the partisan, Jamshid Khan, brought his battalions to threaten the Purohit in his camp. Completely foiled by the superior tact of Lachhman Singh, the Brahman was compelled to abandon the undertaking and to return to the capital, where his anger made him throw aside the mask, and attempt to secure the person of his enemy. The Sikar chief had a narrow escape: he fled with fifty horse, hotly pursued by his adversary, while his effects, and those of his partisans (amongst whom was the Samod chief) were confiscated. The Sadhanis, led by the chiefs of Khetri and Baswa, even after the Purohit had left them, made a bold attempt to capture Khandela, which was defeated, and young Abhai Singh, who was made a puppet on the occasion, witnessed the last defeat of his hopes.

If necessity or expediency could palliate or justify such nefarious acts, it would be shown in the good consequences that have resulted from evil. The discord and bloodshed produced by the partition of authority between the sons of Bahadur [424] Singh are now at an end. Lachhman Singh is the sole tyrant in Khandela, and so long as the system which he has established is maintained, he may laugh at the efforts, not only of the Sadhanis, but of the court itself, to supplant him.

Let us, in a few words, trace the family of Lachhman Singh. It will be recollected that Raesal, the first Raja amongst the sons of Shaikhji, had seven sons, the fourth of whom, Tirmall (who obtained the title of Rao), held Kasli and its eighty-four townships in appanage. His son, Hari Singh, wrested the district of Bilara, with its one hundred and twenty-five townships, from the Kaimkhanis of Fatehpur, and shortly after, twenty-five more from Rewasa. Sheo Singh, the son of Hari, captured Fatehpur itself, the chief abode of the Kaimkhanis, where he established himself. His son, Chand Singh, founded Sikar, whose lineal descendant, Devi Singh, adopted Lachhman Singh, son of his near kinsman, the Shahpura Thakur. The estates of Sikar were in admirable order when Lachhman succeeded to his uncle, whose policy was of the exterminating sort. Lachhman improved upon it; and long before he acquired Khandela, had demolished all the castles of his inferior feudatories, not even sparing that of Shahpura, 1422the place of his nativity, as well as Bilara, Bathoti, and Kasli; and so completely did he allow the ties of adoption to supersede those of blood, that his own father preferred exile, to living under a son who, covered with ‘the turban of Sikar,’ forgot the author of his life, and retired to Jodhpur.

Lachhman Singh has now a compact and improving country, containing five hundred towns and villages, yielding a revenue of eight lakhs of rupees. Desirous of transmitting his name to posterity, he erected the castle of Lachhmangarh,^[16] and has fortified many other strongholds, for the defence of which he has formed a little army, which, in these regions, merits the title of regulars, consisting of eight battalions of Aligol,^[17] armed with matchlocks, with a brigade of guns to each battalion. He has besides an efficient cavalry, consisting of one thousand horse, half of which are Bargirs,^[18] or stipendiary; the other half Jagirdars, having lands assigned for their support. With such means, and with his ambition, there is very little doubt that, had not the alliance of his liege lord of Amber with the English Government put a stop to the predatory system, he would, by means of the same worthy allies by whose [425] aid he obtained Khandela,^[19] before this time have made himself supreme in Shaikhavati.

Having thus brought to a conclusion the history of the princes of Khandela, we shall give a brief account of the other branches of the Shaikhawats, especially the most powerful, the Sadhani.

The Sādhāni Shaikhāwats.

—The Sadhanis are descended from Bhojraj, the third son of Raesal, and in the division of fiefs 1423amongst his seven sons, obtained Udaipur and its dependencies. Bhojraj had a numerous issue, styled Bhojani, who arrogated their full share of importance in the infancy of the confederacy, and in process of time, from some circumstance not related, perhaps the mere advantage of locality, their chief city became the rendezvous for the great council of the federation, which is still in the defile of Udaipur.^[20]

Several generations subsequent to Bhojraj, Jagram succeeded to the lands of Udaipur. He had six sons, the eldest of whom, Sadhu, quarrelled with his father, on some ceremonial connected with the celebration of the military festival, the Dasahra,^[21] and quitting the paternal roof, sought his fortunes abroad. At this time, almost all the tract now inhabited by the Sadhanis was dependent on Fatehpur (Jhunjhunu), the residence of a Nawab of the Kaimkhani tribe of Afghans,^[22] who held it as a fief of the empire. To him Sadhu repaired, and was received with favour, and by his talents and courage rose in consideration, until he was eventually intrusted with the entire management of affairs. There are two accounts of the mode of his ulterior advancement: both may be correct. One is, that the Nawab, having no children, adopted young Sadhu, and assigned to him Jhunjhunu and its eighty-four dependencies, which he retained on the Kaimkhani’s death. The other, and less favourable though equally probable account, is that, feeling his influence firmly established, he hinted to his patron, that the township of —— was prepared for his future residence, where he should enjoy a sufficient pension, as he intended to retain possession of his delegated authority. So completely had he supplanted the Kaimkhani, that he found himself utterly unable to make a party against the ungrateful Shaikhawat. He therefore fled from Jhunjhunu to Fatehpur, the other division of his authority, or at [426] least one of his own kin, who espoused his cause, and prepared to expel the traitor from Jhunjhunu. Sadhu, in this 1424emergency, applied to his father, requesting him to call upon his brethren, as it was a common cause. The old chief, who, in his son’s success, forgave and forgot the conduct which made him leave his roof, instantly addressed another son, then serving with his liege lord, the Mirza Raja Jai Singh, in the imperial army, to obtain succour for him; and some regular troops with guns were immediately dispatched to reinforce young Sadhu and maintain his usurpation, which was accomplished, and moreover Fatehpur was added to Jhunjhunu. Sadhu bestowed the former with its dependencies, equal in value to his own share, on his brother, for his timely aid, and both, according to previous stipulation, agreed to acknowledge their obligations to the Raja by an annual tribute and nazarana on all lapses, as lord-paramount. Sadhu soon after wrested Singhana, containing one hundred and twenty-five villages, from another branch of the Kaimkhanis; Sultana, with its Chaurasi, or division of eighty-four townships, from the Gaur Rajputs; and Khetri and its dependencies from the Tuars, the descendants of the ancient emperors of Delhi: so that, in process of time, he possessed himself of a territory comprising more than one thousand towns and villages. Shortly before his death he divided the conquered lands amongst his five sons, whose descendants, adopting his name as the patronymic, are called Sadhani; namely, Zorawar Singh, Kishan Singh, Nawal Singh, Kesari Singh, and Pahar Singh.

Zorawar Singh, besides the paternal and original estates, had, in virtue of primogeniture, the town of Chokri and its twelve subordinate villages, with all the other emblems of state, as the elephants, palkis, etc.; and although the cupidity of the Khetri chief, the descendant of the second son, Kishan, has wrested the patrimony from the elder branch, who has now only Chokri, yet the distinctions of birth are never lost in those of fortune, and the petty chief of Chokri, with its twelve small townships, is looked upon as the superior of Abhai Singh, though the lord of five hundred villages.

The descendants of the other four sons, now the most distinguished of the Sadhanis, are,^[23]

Besides the patrimonies assigned to the five sons of Sadhu, he left the districts of Singhana, Jhunjhunu, and Surajgarh (the ancient Oricha), to be held in joint heirship by the junior members of his stock. The first, with its one hundred and twenty-five villages, has been usurped by Abhai Singh of Khetri, but the others still continue to be frittered away in sub-infeudations among this numerous and ever-spreading frerage.

Abhai Singh has assumed the same importance amongst the Sadhanis that Lachhman Singh has amongst the Raesalots, and both by the same means, crime and usurpation. The Sikar chief has despoiled his senior branch of Khandela; and the Khetri chief has not only despoiled the senior, but also the junior, of the five branches of Sadhu. The transaction which produced the last result, whereby the descendant of Sher Singh lost Sultana, is so peculiarly atrocious, that it is worth relating, as a proof to what lengths the Rajput will go ‘to get land.’

Bāgh Singh seizes Sultāna.

—Pahar Singh had an only son, named Bhopal, who being killed in an attempt on Loharu, he adopted the younger son of his nephew, Bagh Singh of Khetri. On the death of his adopted father, the Sultana chief, being too young to undertake the management of his fief in person, remained under the paternal roof. It would appear as if this alienation of political rights could also alienate affection and rupture all the ties of kindred, for this unnatural father imbrued his hands in the blood of his own child, and annexed Sultana to Khetri. But the monster grievously suffered for the deed; he became the scorn of his kinsmen, “who spit at him and threw dust on his head,” until he secluded himself from the gaze of mankind. The wife of his bosom ever after refused to look upon him; she managed the estates for her surviving son, the present Abhai Singh. During twelve years that Bagh Singh survived, he never quitted his apartment in the castle of Khetri, until carried out to be burned, amidst the execrations and contempt of his kinsmen.

1426

The Lārkhānis.

—Having made the reader sufficiently acquainted with the genealogy of the Sadhanis, as well as of the Raesalots, we shall conclude with a brief notice of the Larkhanis, which term, translated ‘the beloved lords,’ ill accords with their occupation, as the most notorious marauders in Rajputana. Larla is a common infantine appellation, meaning ‘beloved’; but whether the adjunct of Khan to this son of Raesal, as well as to that of his youngest, Tajkhan (the crown of princes), was out of compliment to some other Muslim saint, we know not. Larkhan conquered his own [428] appanage, Danta Ramgarh, on the frontiers of Marwar, then a dependency of Sambhar. It is not unlikely that his father’s influence at court secured the possession to him. Besides this district, they have the tappa of Nosal, and altogether about eighty townships, including some held of the Rajas of Marwar, and Bikaner, to secure their abstinence from plunder within their bounds. The Larkhanis are a community of robbers; their name, like Pindari and Kazzak, is held in these regions to be synonymous with ‘freebooter,’ and as they can muster five hundred horse, their raids are rather formidable. Sometimes their nominal liege lord calls upon them for tribute, but being in a difficult country, and Ramgarh being a place of strength, they pay little regard to the call, unless backed by some of the mercenary partisans, such as Amir Khan, who contrived to get payment of arrears of tribute to the amount of twenty thousand rupees.

Revenues.

—We conclude this sketch with a rough statement of the revenues of Shaikhavati, which might yield in peace and prosperity, now for the first time beginning to beam upon them, from twenty-five to thirty lakhs of rupees; but at present they fall much short of this sum, and full one-half of the lands of the confederation are held by the chiefs of Sikar and Khetri—

Thus, supposing the revenues, as stated, at twenty-three lakhs, to be near the truth, and the tribute at three and a half, it would be an assessment of one-seventh of the whole, which is a fair proportion, and a measure of justice which the British Government would do well to imitate.

We have thus developed the origin and progress of the Kachhwaha tribe, as well as its scions of Shaikhavati and Macheri. To some, at least, it may be deemed no uninteresting object to trace in continuity the issue of a fugitive individual, spreading, in the course of eight hundred years, over a region of fifteen thousand square miles; and to know that forty thousand of his flesh and blood have been marshalled in the same field, defending, sword in hand, their country and their prince. The name of ‘country’ carries with it a magical power in the mind of the Rajput. The name of his wife or his mistress must never be mentioned at all, nor that of his country but with respect, or his sword is instantly unsheathed. Of these facts, numerous instances abound in these Annals; yet does the ignorant Pardesi (foreigner) venture to say there are no indigenous terms either for patriotism or gratitude in this country.

Boundaries and Extent.

—The boundaries of Amber and its dependencies are best seen by an inspection of the map. Its greatest breadth lies between Sambhar, touching the Marwar frontier on the west, and the town of Suraut, on the Jat frontier, east. This line is one hundred and twenty British miles, whilst its greatest breadth from north to south, including Shaikhavati, is one hundred and eighty. Its form is [430] very irregular. We may, however, estimate the surface of the parent State, Dhundhar or Jaipur, at nine thousand five hundred square miles, and Shaikhavati at five thousand four hundred; in all, fourteen thousand nine hundred square miles.^[1]

Population.

—It is difficult to determine with exactitude the amount of the population of this region; but from the best information, one hundred and fifty souls to the square mile would not be too great a proportion in Amber, and eighty in Shaikhavati; giving an average of one hundred and twenty-four to the united area, which consequently contains 185,670; and when we consider the very great number of large towns in this region, it may not be above, but rather below, the truth. Dhundhar, the parent country, is calculated to contain four thousand townships, 1429exclusive of purwas, or hamlets, and Shaikhavati about half that number, of which Lachhman Singh of Sikar and Khandela, and Abhai Singh of Khetri, have each about five hundred, or the half of the lands of the federation.^[2]

Classification of Inhabitants.

—Of this population, it is still more difficult to classify its varied parts, although it may be asserted with confidence that the Rajputs bear but a small ratio to the rest,^[3] whilst they may equal in number any individual class, except the aboriginal Minas, who, strange to say, are still the most numerous. The following are the principal tribes, and the order in which they follow may be considered as indicative of their relative numbers. 1. Minas; 2. Rajputs; 3. Brahmans; 4. Banias; 5. Jats; 6. Dhakar, or Kirar (qu. Kirata?); 7. Gujars.^[4]

The Mīna Tribe.

—The Minas are subdivided into no less than thirty-two distinct clans or classes, but it would extend too much the Annals of this State to distinguish them. Moreover, as they belong to every State in Rajwara, we shall find a fitter occasion to give a general account of them. The immunities and privileges preserved to the Minas best attest the truth of the original induction of the exiled prince of Narwar to the sovereignty of Amber; and it is a curious fact, showing that such establishment must have been owing to adoption, not conquest, that this event was commemorated on every installation by a Mina of Kalikoh marking with his blood the tika of sovereignty on the forehead of the prince. The blood was obtained by incision of the great toe, and though, like many other antiquated usages, this has fallen into desuetude here (as has the same mode of inauguration of the Ranas by the Oghna Bhils), yet both in the one case and in the other, there cannot be more convincing evidence that these now outcasts were originally the masters. The Minas still enjoy the 1430most confidential posts about the persons of the princes of Amber, having charge of the archives [431] and treasure in Jaigarh; they guard his person at night, and have that most delicate of all trusts, the charge of the rawala, or seraglio. In the earlier stages of Kachhwaha power, these their primitive subjects had the whole insignia of state, as well as the person of the prince, committed to their trust; but presuming upon this privilege too far, when they insisted that, in leaving their bounds, he should leave these emblems, the nakkaras and standards, with them, their pretensions were cancelled in their blood. The Minas, Jats, and Kirars are the principal cultivators, many of them holding large estates.^[5]

Jāts.

—The Jats nearly equal the Minas in numbers, as well as in extent of possessions, and are, as usual, the most industrious of all husbandmen.

Brāhmans.

—Of Brahmans, following secular as well as sacred employments, there are more in Amber than in any other State in Rajwara; from which we are not to conclude that her princes were more religious than their neighbours, but, on the contrary, that they were greater sinners.

Rājputs.

—It is calculated that, even now, on an emergency, if a national war roused the patriotism of the Kachhwaha feudality, they could bring into the field thirty thousand of their kin and clan, or, to repeat their own emphatic phrase, “the sons of one father,” which includes the Narukas and the chiefs of the Shaikhawat federation.^[6] Although the Kachhwahas, under their popular princes, as Pajun, Raja Man, and the Mirza Raja, have performed exploits as brilliant as any other tribes, yet they do not now enjoy the same reputation for courage as either the Rathors or Haras. This may be in part accounted for by the demoralization consequent upon their proximity to the Mogul court, and their participation in all enervating vices; but still more from the degradations they have suffered from the Mahrattas, and to which their western brethren have been less exposed. Every feeling, patriotic or domestic, became corrupted wherever their pernicious influence prevailed.

Soil, Husbandry, Products.

—Dhundhar contains every variety 1431of soil, and the kharif and rabi, or autumnal and spring crops, are of nearly equal importance. Of the former bajra predominates over juar, and in the latter barley over wheat. The other grains, pulses, and vegetables, reared all over Hindustan, are here produced in abundance, and require not to be specified [432]. The sugar-cane used to be cultivated to a very great extent, but partly from extrinsic causes, and still more from its holding out such an allurement to the renters, the husbandman has been compelled to curtail this lucrative branch of agriculture; for although land fit for ikh (cane) is let at four to six rupees per bigha, sixty have been exacted before it was allowed to be reaped. Cotton of excellent quality is produced in considerable quantities in various districts, as are indigo and other dyes common to India. Neither do the implements of husbandry or their application differ from those which have been described in this and various other works sufficiently well known.^[7]

Farming System.

—It is the practice in this State to farm its lands to the highest bidder; and the mode of farming is most pernicious to the interests of the State and the cultivating classes, both of whom it must eventually impoverish. The farmers-general are the wealthy bankers and merchants, who make their offers for entire districts; these they underlet in tappas, or subdivisions, the holders of which again subdivide them into single villages, or even shares of a village. With the profits of all these persons, the expenses attending collections, quartering of barkandazes, or armed police, are the poor Bhumias and Ryots saddled. Could they only know the point where exaction must stop, they would still have a stimulus to activity; but when the crops are nearly got in, and all just demands satisfied, they suddenly hear that a new renter has been installed in the district, having ousted the holder by some ten or twenty thousand rupees, and at the precise moment when the last toils of the husbandman were near completion. The renter has no remedy; he may go and “throw his turban at the door of the palace, and exclaim dohai, Raja Sahib!” till he is weary, or marched off to the Kotwal’s chabutra, and perhaps fined for making a disturbance.^[8] Knowing, however, 1432that there is little benefit to be derived from such a course, they generally submit, go through the whole accounts, make over the amount of collections, and with the host of vultures in their train, who, never unprepared for such changes, have been making the most of their ephemeral power by battening on the hard earnings of the peasantry, retire for this fresh band of harpies to pursue a like course. Nay, it is far from uncommon for three different renters to come upon the same district in one season, or even the crop of one season, for five or ten thousand rupees, annulling the existing engagement, no matter how far advanced. Such was the condition of this State; and when to these evils were superadded the exactions called dand, or barar, forced contributions to pay those armies of robbers who swept the lands, language cannot exaggerate the extent of misery. The love of country must be powerful indeed which can enchain man to a land so misgoverned, so unprotected [433].

Revenues.

—It is always a task of difficulty to obtain any correct account of the revenues of these States, which are ever fluctuating. We have now before us several schedules, both of past and present reigns, all said to be copied from the archives, in which the name of every district, together with its rent, town and transit duties, and other sources of income, are stated; but the details would afford little satisfaction, and doubtless the resident authorities have access to the fountain-head. The revenues of Dhundhar, of every description, fiscal, feudal, and tributary, or impost, are stated, in round numbers, at one crore of rupees, or about a million of pounds sterling, which, estimating the difference of the price of labour, may be deemed equivalent to four times that sum in England.^[9] Since this estimate was made, there have been great alienations of territory, and no less than sixteen rich districts have been wrested from Amber by the Mahrattas, or her own rebel son, the Naruka chief of Macheri.

It must, however, be borne in mind, that almost all these alienated districts had but for a comparatively short period formed an integral portion of Dhundhar; and that the major part were portions of the imperial domains, held in jaedad, or ‘assignment,’ by the princes of this country, in their capacity of lieutenants of the emperor. In Raja Prithi Singh’s reign, about half a century ago, the rent-roll of Amber and her tributaries was [434] seventy-seven lakhs: and in a very minute schedule formed in S. 1858 (A.D. 1802), the last year of the reign of Raja Partap Singh, they were estimated at seventy-nine lakhs: an ample revenue, if well administered, for every object. We shall present the chief items which form the budget of ways and means of Amber.

1435If this statement is correct, and we add thereto the Shaikhawat, Rajawat, and Hara tributes, the revenues fiscal, feudal, commercial, and tributary, of Amber, when Jagat Singh came to the throne, would exceed eighty lakhs of rupees, half of which is khalisa, or appertaining to the Raja—nearly twice the personal revenue of any other prince in Rajwara. This sum (forty lakhs) was the estimated amount liable to tribute when the treaty was formed with the British Government, and of which the Raja has to pay eight lakhs annually, and five-sixteenths of all revenue surplus to this amount. The observant reader will not fail to be struck with the vast inequality between the estates of the defenders of the country, and these drones the Brahmans,—a point on which we have elsewhere treated:^[15] nor can anything more powerfully mark the utter prostration of intellect of the Kachhwaha princes, than their thus maintaining an indolent and baneful hierarchy, to fatten on the revenues which would support four thousand Kachhwaha cavaliers. With a proper application of her revenues, and princes like Raja Man to lead a brave vassalage, they would have foiled all the efforts of the Mahrattas; but their own follies and vices have been their ruin.

Foreign Army.

—At the period (A.D. 1803) this schedule was formed of the revenues of Amber, she maintained a foreign army of thirteen thousand men, consisting of ten battalions of infantry with guns, a legion of four thousand Nagas, a corps of Aligols ^[16] for police duties, and one of cavalry, seven hundred strong. With these, the regular contingent of feudal levies, amounting to about four thousand efficient horse, formed a force adequate to repel any insult; but when the kher, or levée en masse, was called out, twenty thousand men, horse and foot, were ready to back the always embodied force.^[17]

A detailed schedule of the feudal levies of Amber may diversify the dry details of these annals, obviate repetition, and present a perfect picture of a society of clanships. In this list we shall give precedence to the kothriband, the holders of the twelve great fiefs (barah-kothri) of Amber—

1437It will be remarked that the estates of these, the chief vassals of Amber, are, with the exception of two, far inferior in value to those of the sixteen great chiefs of Mewar, or the eight of Marwar; and a detailed list of all the inferior feudatories of each Kothri, or clan, would show that many of them have estates greater than those of their leaders: for instance, Kishan Singh of Chaumun has upwards of a lakh, while Beri Sal of Samod, the head of the clan (Nathawat), has only forty thousand; again, the chief of Balaheri holds an estate of thirty-five thousand, while that of the head of his clan is but twenty-five thousand. The representative of the Sheobaranpotas has an estate of only ten thousand, while the junior branch of Gura has thirty-six thousand. Again, the chief of the Khangarots has but twenty-five thousand, while no less than three junior branches hold lands to double that amount; and the inferior of the Balbhadarots holds upwards of a lakh, while the superior of Achrol has not a third of this rental. The favour of the prince, the turbulence or talents of individuals, have caused these inequalities; but, however disproportioned the gifts of fortune, the attribute of honour always remains with the lineal descendant and representative of the original fief.

We shall further illustrate this subject of the feudalities of Amber by inserting a general list of all the clans, with the number of subdivisions, the resources of each, and the quotas they ought to furnish. At no remote period this was held to be correct, and will serve to give a good idea of the Kachhwaha aristocracy. It was my [437] intention to have given a detailed account of the subdivisions of each fief, their names, and those of their holders, but on reflection, though they cost some diligence to obtain, they would have little interest for the general reader.

Ancient Towns.

—We shall conclude the annals of Amber with the names of a few of the ancient towns, in which research may recover something of past days.

1439Mora.—Nine coss east of Dausa or Daosa; built by Mordhwaj, a Chauhan Raja.

Abhaner.—Three coss east of Lalsont; very ancient; capital of a Chauhan sovereignty.

Bangarh.—Five coss from Tholai; the ruins of an ancient town and castle in the hills, built by the old princes of Dhundhar, prior to the Kachhwahas.

Amber, or Ambikeswara, a title of Siva, whose symbol is in the centre of a kund or tank in the middle of the old town. The water covers half the lingam; and a prophecy prevails, that when it is entirely submerged the State of Amber will perish! There are inscriptions [439].

CHAPTER 1

Hāravati.

—Haravati, or Haraoti, ‘the country of the Haras,’ comprehends two principalities, namely, Kotah and Bundi. The Chambal intersects the territory of the Hara race, and now serves as their boundary, although only three centuries have elapsed since the younger branch separated from and became independent of Bundi.

The Hara is the most important of the twenty-four Chauhan sakha, being descended from Anuraj, the son of Manik Rae, king of Ajmer, who in S. 741 (A.D. 685) sustained the first shock of the Islamite arms.^[1]

The Origin of the Chauhāns.

—We have already sketched the pedigree of the Chauhans,^[2] one of the most illustrious of the ‘Thirty-six Royal Races’ of India.^[3] We must, however, in this 1442place, enter into it somewhat more fully; and in doing so, we must not discard even the fables of their origin, which will at least demonstrate that the human understanding has been similarly constructed in all ages and countries, before the thick veil of ignorance and superstition was withdrawn from it. So scanty are the remote records of the Chauhans, that it would savour of affectation to attempt a division of the periods of their history, or the improbable, the probable, and the certain. Of the first two, a separation would be impracticable, and we cannot trace the latter beyond the seventh century.

“When the impieties of the kings of the warrior race drew upon them the vengeance of Parasurama, who twenty-one times extirpated that race, some, in order to save their lives, called themselves bards; others assumed the guise of women; and thus the singh (horn) of the Rajputs was preserved, when dominion was assigned to the Brahmans. The impious avarice of Sahasra Arjuna, of the Haihaya race, king of Maheswar ^[4] on the Nerbudda, provoked the last war, having slain the father of Parasurama [440].

“But as the chief weapon of the Brahman is his curse or blessing, great disorders soon ensued from the want of the strong arm. Ignorance and infidelity spread over the land; the sacred books were trampled under foot, and mankind had no refuge from the monstrous brood.^[5] In this exigence, Viswamitra, the instructor in arms ^[6] of Bhagwan, revolved within his own mind, and determined upon, the re-creation of the Chhattris. He chose for this rite the summit of Mount Abu,^[7] where dwell the hermits and sages (Munis and Rishis) constantly occupied in the duties of religion, and who had carried their complaints even to the khir samudra (sea of curds), where they saw the Father of 1443Creation floating upon the hydra (emblem of eternity). He desired them to regenerate the warrior race, and they returned to Mount Abu with Indra, Brahma, Rudra, Vishnu, and all the inferior divinities, in their train. The fire-fountain (analkund) was lustrated with the waters of the Ganges; expiatory rites were performed, and, after a protracted debate, it was resolved that Indra should initiate the work of re-creation. Having formed an image (putli) of the durva grass, he sprinkled it with the water of life, and threw it into the fire-fountain. Thence, on pronouncing the sanjivan mantra (incantation to give life), a figure slowly emerged from the flame, bearing in the right hand a mace, and exclaiming, 'Mar! mar!' (slay, slay). He was called Pramar; and Abu, Dhar, and Ujjain were assigned to him as a territory.

“Brahma was then entreated to frame one from his own essence (ansa). He made an image, threw it into the pit, whence issued a figure armed with a sword (khadga) in one hand, with the Veda in the other, and a janeo round his neck. He was named Chalukya or Solanki, and Anhilpur Patan was appropriated to him.

“Rudra formed the third. The image was sprinkled with the water of the Ganges, and on the incantation being read, a black ill-favoured figure arose, armed with the dhanush or bow. As his foot slipped when sent against the demons, he was called Parihar, and placed as the pauliya, or guardian of the gates. He had the Naunangal Marusthali, or ‘nine habitations of the desert,’ assigned him.him.

“The fourth was formed by Vishnu; when an image like himself four-armed, each having a separate weapon, issued from the flames, and was thence styled Chaturbhuja Chauhan, or the ‘four-armed.’ The gods bestowed their blessing upon him, and Mahishmati-nagari as a territory. Such was the name of Garha-Mandla in the Dwapur, or silver age [441].^[8]

“The Daityas were watching the rites, and two of their leaders were close to the fire-fountain; but the work of regeneration being over, the new-born warriors were sent against the infidels, when a desperate encounter ensued. But as fast as the blood of 1444the demons was shed, young demons arose; when the four tutelary divinities, attendant on each newly-created race, drank up the blood, and thus stopped the multiplication of evil. These were—

“When the Daityas were slain, shouts of joy rent the sky; ambrosial showers were shed from heaven; and the gods drove their cars (vahan) about the firmament, exulting at the victory thus achieved.

“Of all the Thirty-six Royal Races (says Chand, the great bard of the Chauhans), the Agnikula is the greatest: the rest were born of woman; these were created by the Brahmans!^[10]—Gotracharya of the Chauhans, Sama Veda, Somvansa, Madhuvani sakha, Vacha gotra, Panch parwar janeo, Laktankari nikas, Chandrabhaga Nadi, Brighu nishan, Ambika-Bhavani, Balan Putra, Kalbhairon, Abu Achaleswar Mahadeo, Chaturbhuja Chauhan.”

The period of this grand convocation of the gods on Mount Abu, to regenerate the warrior race of Hind, and to incite them against ‘the infidel races who had spread over the land,’ is dated so far back as the opening of the second age of the Hindus: a point which we shall not dispute. Neither shall we throw a doubt upon the chronicles which claim Prince Salya, one of the great heroes of the Mahabharata, as an intermediate link between Anhal Chauhan and Satpati, who founded Mahishmati, and 1445conquered the Konkan; while another son, called Tantar Pal, conquered Asir and Gualkund (Golkonda), planted his garrisons in every region, and possessed nine hundred elephants to carry pakhals, or water-skins [442].

Let us here pause for a moment before we proceed with the chronicle, and inquire who were these warriors, thus regenerated to fight the battles of Brahmanism, and brought within the pale of their faith. They must have been either the aboriginal debased classes, raised to moral importance, by the ministers of the pervading religion, or foreign races who had obtained a footing amongst them. The contrasted physical appearance of the respective races will decide this question. The aborigines are dark, diminutive, and ill-favoured; the Agnikulas are of good stature, and fair, with prominent features, like those of the Parthian kings. The ideas which pervade their martial poetry are such as were held by the Scythian in distant ages, and which even Brahmanism has failed to eradicate; while the tumuli, containing ashes and arms, discovered throughout India, especially in the south about Gualkund, where the Chauhans held sway,^[11] indicate the nomadic warrior of the north as the proselyte of Mount Abu.

Of the four Agnikula races, the Chauhans were the first who obtained extensive dominions. The almost universal power of the Pramaras is proverbial; but the wide sway possessed by the Chauhans can only be discovered with difficulty. Their glory was on the wane when that of the Pramaras was in the zenith; and if we may credit the last great bard of the Rajputs, the Chauhans held in capite of the Pramaras of Telingana, in the eighth century of Vikrama, though the name of Prithiraj threw a parting ray of splendour upon the whole line of his ancestry, even to the fire-fountain on the summit of classic Abu.

The facts to be gleaned in the early page of the chronicle are contained in a few stanzas, which proclaim the possession of paramount power, though probably of no lengthened duration. The line of the Nerbudda, from Mahishmati, Maheswar, was their primitive seat of sovereignty, comprehending all the tracts in its vicinity both north and south. Thence, as they multiplied, they spread over the peninsula, possessing Mandu, Asir, Golkonda, 1446and the Konkan;^[12] while to the north, [443] they stretched even to the fountains of the Ganges. The following is the bard’s picture of the Chauhan dominion:—

“From ‘the seat of government’ (rajasthan) Mahishmati, the oath of allegiance (an) resounded in fifty-two castles. The land of Tatta, Lahore, Multan, Peshawar,^[13] the Chauhan in his might arose and conquered even to the hills of Badarinath. The infidels (Asuras) fled, and allegiance was proclaimed in Delhi and Kabul, while the country of Nepal he bestowed on the Mallani.^[14] Crowned with the blessing of the gods, he returned to Mahishmati.”

It has already been observed, that Mahishmati-Nagari was the ancient name of Garha-Mandla, whose princes for ages continued the surname of Pal, indicative, it is recorded by tradition, of their nomadic occupation. The Ahirs, who occupied all Central India, and have left in one nook (Ahirwara) a memorial of their existence, was a branch of the same race, Ahir being a synonym for Pal.^[15] Bhilsa, Bhojpur, Dip, Bhopal, Eran, Garaspur, are a few of the ancient towns established by the Pals or Palis; and could we master the still unknown characters appertaining to the early colonists of India, more light would be thrown on the history of the Chauhans.^[16]

A scion from Mahishmati, named Ajaipal, established himself 1447at Ajmer,^[17] and erected its castle of Taragarh. The name of Ajaipal is one of the most conspicuous that tradition has preserved, and is always followed by the epithet of Chakravartin, or universal potentate. His era must ever remain doubtful, unless, as already observed, we should master the characters said to belong to this race, and which are still extant, both on stone and on copper.^[18] From what cause is not stated (most probably a failure of [444] lineal issue), Prithi Pahar was brought from Mahishmati to Ajmer. By a single wife (for polygamy was then unknown to these races) he had twenty-four sons, whose progeny peopled these regions, one of whose descendants, Manika Rae, was lord of Ajmer and Sambhar, in the year S. 741, or A.D. 685.

MānikaMānika Rāē.

—With the name of Manika Rae, the history of the Chauhan emerges from obscurity, if not fable; and although the bard does not subsequently entertain us with much substantial information, we can trace his subject, and see his heroes fret their hour upon the uncertain stage, throughout a period of twelve hundred years. It was at this era (A.D. 685) that Rajputana was first visited by the arms of Islam, being the sixty-third year of the Hejira. Manika Rae, then prince of Ajmer, was slain by the Asuras, and his only child, named Lot, then an infant of seven years of age, was killed by an arrow while playing on the battlements (kunguras). The invasion is said to have been from Sind, in revenge for the ill-treatment of an Islamite missionary 1448named Roshan Ali, though the complexion of the event is more like an enterprise prompted by religious enthusiasm. The missionary being condemned to lose his thumb “the disjointed member flew to Mecca,” and gave evidence against the Rajput idolater; when a force was prepared, disguised as a caravan of horse-merchants, which surprised and slew Dhola Rae and his son, and obtained possession of Garhbitli, the citadel.

Puerile as is the transaction, its truth is substantiated by the fact that the Caliph Omar at this very time sent an army to Sind, whose commander, Abu-l-lais, was slain in an attempt on the ancient capital, Alor.^[19] Still nothing but the enthusiasm of religious frenzy could have induced a band to cross the desert in order to punish this insult to the new faith.

Whatever were the means, however, by which Ajmer was captured, and Dhola Rae slain, the importance of the event has been deeply imprinted on the Chauhans; who, in remembrance of it, deified the youthful heir of Ajmer: “Lot putra” is still the most conspicuous of the Chauhan penates. The day on which he was killed is sanctified, and his effigy then receives divine honours from all who have the name of Chauhan. Even the anklet of bells which he wore has become an object of veneration, and is forbidden to be used by the children of this race.

“Of the house of Dhola Rae of Chauhan race, Lotdeo, the heir-apparent by the decree of Siva, on Monday the 12th of the month of Jeth, went to heaven.”

Manika Rae, the uncle of the youth (putra) (who is still the object of general homage, especially of the Chauhan fair), upon the occupation of Ajmer, retired upon [445] Sambhar, which event another couplet fixes, as we have said, in S. 741.^[20] Here 1449the bard has recourse to celestial interposition in order to support Manika Rae in his adversity. The goddess Sakambhari appears to him, while seeking shelter from the pursuit of this merciless foe, and bids him establish himself in the spot where she manifested herself, guaranteeing to him the possession of all the ground he could encompass with his horse on that day; but commanded him not to look back until he had returned to the spot where he left her. He commenced the circuit, with what he deemed his steed could accomplish, but forgetting the injunction, he was surprised to see the whole space covered as with a sheet. This was the desiccated sar, or salt-lake, which he named after his patroness Sakambhari, whose statue still exists on a small island in the lake, now corrupted to Sambhar.^[21]

However jejune these legends of the first days of Chauhan power, they suffice to mark with exactness their locality; and the importance attached to this settlement is manifested in the title of ‘Sambhari Rao,’ maintained by Prithiraj, the descendant of Manika Rae, even when emperor of all Northern India.

Manika Rae, whom we may consider as the founder of the Chauhans of the north, recovered Ajmer. He had a numerous progeny, who established many petty dynasties throughout Western Rajwara, giving birth to various tribes, which are spread even to the Indus. The Khichi,^[22] the Hara, the Mohil, Nirwana, Bhadauria, Bhaurecha, Dhanetia, and Baghrecha, are all descended from him.^[23] The Khichis were established in the remote Duab, called Sind-Sagar, comprising all the tract between the Behat and the Sind, a space of sixty-eight coss, whose capital was Khichpur-Patan. The Haras obtained or founded Asi (Hansi) in Hariana; while another tribe held Gualkund, the celebrated Golkonda, now Haidarabad, and when thence expelled, regained Asir. The Mohils had the tracts round Nagor.^[24] The 1450Bhadaurias had an appanage on the Chambal, in a tract which bears their name, and [446] is still subject to them. The Dhanetias settled at Shahabad, which by a singular fatality has at length come into the possession of the Haras of Kotah. Another branch fixed at Nadol, but never changed the name of Chauhan.^[25]

Many chieftainships were scattered over the desert, either trusting to their lances to maintain their independence, or holding of superiors; but a notice of them, however interesting, would here, perhaps, be out of place. Eleven princes are enumerated in the Jaga’s catalogue, from Manika Rae to Bisaldeo,^[26] a name of the highest celebrity in the Rajput annals, and a landmark to various authorities, who otherwise have little in common even in their genealogies, which I pass over in silence, with the exception 1451of the intermediate name of Harsraj,^[27] common to the Hamir Raesa as well as the Jaga’s list. The authority of Harsraj stretched along the Aravalli mountains to Abu, and east of the Chambal. He ruled from S. 812 to 827 (A.H. 138 to 153), and fell in battle against the Asuras, having attained the title of Arimurdan.^[28] Ferishta says, that “in A.H. 143, the Muslims greatly increased, when issuing from their hills they obtained possession of Karman, Peshawar, and all the lands adjacent; and that the Raja of Lahore, who was of the family of the Raja of Ajmer, sent his brother ^[29] against these Afghans, who were reinforced by the tribes of Khilj, of Ghor and Kabul, just become proselytes to Islam”;^[29] and he adds, that during five months, seventy battles were fought with success; or, to use the historian’s own words, “in which Sipahi sarma (General Frost) was victorious over the infidel, but who returned when the cold season was passed with fresh force. The armies met [447] between Karman and Peshawar; sometimes the infidel (Rajput) carried the war to the Kohistan, ‘mountainous regions,’ and drove the Musalmans before him; sometimes the Musalmans, obtaining reinforcements, drove the infidel by flights of arrows to their own borders, to which they always retired when the torrents swelled the Nilab (Indus).”

Whether the Raja of Ajmer personally engaged in these distant combats the chronicle says not. According to the Hamir Raesa, Harsraj was succeeded by Dujgandeo, whose advanced post was Bhatner, and who overcame Nasiru-d-din, from whom he captured twelve hundred horse, and hence bore the epithet of Sultan Graha, or ‘King-seizer.’ Nasiru-d-din was the title of the celebrated Sabuktigin, father to the still more celebrated Mahmud. Sabuktigin repeatedly invaded India during the fifteen years’ reign of his predecessor Alptigin.

1452

Bīsaldeo.

—Passing over the intermediate reigns, each of which is marked by some meagre and unsatisfactory details of battles with the Islamite, we arrive at Bisaldeo. The father of this prince, according to the Hara genealogists, was Dharmagaj, apparently a title—'in faith like an elephant'—as in the Jaga’s list is Bir Bilandeo, confirmed by the inscription on the triumphal column at Delhi. The last of Mahmud’s invasions occurred during the reign of Bilandeo, who, at the expense of his life, had the glory of humbling the mighty conqueror, and forcing him to relinquish the siege of Ajmer.^[30] Before we condense the scanty records of the bards concerning Visaladeva,^[31] we may spare a few words to commemorate a Chauhan who consecrated his name, and that of all his kin, by his deeds in the first passage of Mahmud into India.

Gūga, Gugga Chauhān.

—Guga Chauhan was the son of Vacha Raja, a name of some celebrity. He held the whole of Jangaldes, or the forest lands from the Sutlej to Hariana; his capital, called Mahara, or, as pronounced, Guga ka Mahra, was on the Sutlej. In defending this he fell, with forty-five sons and sixty nephews; and as it occurred on Sunday (Rabiwar), the ninth (naumi) of the month, that day is held sacred to the manes of Guga by the ‘Thirty-six Classes’^[32] throughout Rajputana, but especially in the desert, a portion of which is yet called Gugadeo ka thal. Even his steed, Javadia,^[33] has been immortalized [448] and has become a favourite name for a war-horse throughout Rajputana, 1453whose mighty men swear 'by the sakha of Guga,' for maintaining the Rajput fame when Mahmud crossed the Sutlej.

This was probably the last of Mahmud’s invasions, when he marched direct from Multan through the desert. He attacked Ajmer, which was abandoned, and the country around given up to devastation and plunder. The citadel, Garhbitli, however, held out, and Mahmud was foiled, wounded, and obliged to retreat by Nadol,^[34] another Chauhan possession, which he sacked, and then proceeded to Nahrwala, which he captured. His barbarities promoted a coalition, which, by compelling him to march through the western deserts to gain the valley of Sind, had nearly proved fatal to his army.

The exploits of Bisaldeo form one of the books of Chand the bard. The date assigned to Bisaldeo in the Raesa (S. 921) is interpolated—a vice not uncommon with the Rajput bard, whose periods acquire verification from less mutable materials than those out of which he weaves his song.^[35]

Chand gives an animated picture of the levy of the Rajput chivalry, which assembled under Bisaldeo, who, as the champion of the Hindu faith, was chosen to lead its warriors against the Islamite invader. The Chalukya king of Anhilwara alone refused to join the confederation, and in terms which drew upon him the vengeance of the Chauhan. A literal translation of the passage may be interesting:

“To the Goelwal Jeth, the prince entrusted Ajmer, saying, ‘On your fealty I depend’; where can this Chalukya find refuge? He moved from the city (Ajmer) and encamped on the lake Visala,^[36] and summoned his tributaries and vassals to meet him. 1454Mansi Parihar with the array of Mandor, touched his feet.^[37] Then came the Guhilot, the ornament of the throng;^[38] and the Pawasar [449], with Tuar,^[39] and Rama the Gaur;^[40] with Mohes the lord of Mewat.^[41] The Mohil of Dunapur with tribute sent excuse.^[42] With folded hands arrived the Baloch,^[43] but the lord of Bamani abandoned Sind.^[44] Then came the Nazar from Bhatner,^[45] and the Nalbandi from Tatta ^[46] and Multan.^[46] When the summons reached the Bhumia Bhatti of Derawar,^[47] all obeyed; as did the Jadon of 1455Malanwas.^[48] The Mori ^[49] and Bargujar^[49] also joined with the Kachhwahas of Antarved.^[49] The subjugated Meras worshipped his feet.^[50] Then came the array of Takatpur, headed by the Goelwal Jeth.^[51] Mounted in haste came Udaya Pramar,^[52] with the Nirwan ^[53] and the Dor,^[54] the Chandel,^[54] and the Dahima.”^[55]

In this short passage, a text is afforded for a dissertation on the whole genealogical history of Rajputana at that period. Such extracts from the more ancient bards, incorporated in the works of their successors, however laconic, afford decisive evidence [450] that their poetic chronicles bore always the same character; for this passage is introduced by Chand merely as a preface to the history of his own prince, Prithiraj, the descendant of Bisaldeo.

A similar passage was given from the ancient chronicles of Mewar, recording an invasion of the Muslims, of which the histories of the invaders have left no trace (Vol. I. p. 287). The evidence of both is incontestable; every name affords a synchronism not to be disputed; and though the isolated passage would afford a very faint ray of light to the explorer of those days of darkness, yet when the same industrious research has pervaded the annals of all these races, a flood of illumination pours upon us, and we can at least tell who the races were who held sway in these regions a thousand years ago.

Amidst meagre, jejune, and unsatisfactory details, the annalist of Rajputana must be content to wade on, in order to obtain some solid foundation for the history of the tribes; but such facts as these stimulate his exertions and reward his toil: without them, 1456his task would be hopeless. To each of the twenty tribes enumerated, formed under the standard of the Chauhan, we append a separate notice, for the satisfaction of the few who can appreciate their importance, while some general remarks may suffice as a connexion with the immediate object of research, the Haras, descended from Bisaldeo.

In the first place, it is of no small moment to be enabled to adjust the date of Bisaldeo, the most important name in the annals of the Chauhans from Manik Rae to Prithiraj, and a slip from the genealogical tree will elucidate our remarks [451].^[56]

The Delhi Pillar.

—The name of Bisaldeo (Visaladeva) heads the inscription on the celebrated column erected in the centre of Firoz Shah’s palace at Delhi. This column, alluded to by Chand, as “telling the fame of the Chohan,” was “placed at Nigambhod,” a place of pilgrimage on the Jumna, a few miles below Delhi, whence it must have been removed to its present singular position.^[57]

[From Anhal to Bilandeo, these are but a few of the leading names. From Bilandeo the chain is continuous to the last Chauhan king, Prithiraj.]

The inscription commences and ends with the same date, namely, 15th of the month Baisakh, S. 1220. If correctly copied, it can have no reference to Bisaldeo, excepting as the ancestor of Prativa Chahumana tilaka Sakambhari bhupati; or ‘Prithiraja Chauhan, the anointed of Sambhar, Lord of the earth,’ who ruled at Delhi in S. 1220, and was slain in S. 1249, retaining the ancient epithet of ‘Lord of Sambhar,’ one of the early seats of their power.^[58] The second stanza, however, tells us we must distrust 1458the first of the two dates, and read 1120 (instead of 1220), when Visaladeva “exterminated the barbarians” from Aryavarta. The numerals 1 and 2 in Sanskrit are easily mistaken. If, however, it is decidedly 1220, then the whole inscription belongs to Prativa Chahumana, between whom and Visala no less than six princes intervene,^[59] and the opening is merely to introduce Prithiraja’s lineage, in which the sculptor has foisted in the date.

I feel inclined to assign the first stanza to Visaladeva (Bisaldeo), and what follows to his descendant Prithiraj, who by a conceit may have availed himself of the anniversary of the victory of his ancestor, to record his own exploits. These exploits were precisely of the same nature—successful war against the Islamite, in which each drove him from Aryavarta; for even the Muslim writers acknowledge that Shihabu-d-din was often ignominiously defeated before he finally succeeded in making a conquest of northern India [453].

Date of Visaladeva.

—If, as I surmise, the first stanza belongs to Bisaldeo, the date is S. 1120, or A.D. 1064, and this grand 1459confederation described by the Chauhan bard was assembled under his banner, preparatory to the very success, to commemorate which the inscription was recorded.

In the passage quoted from Chand, recording the princes who led their household troops under Bisaldeo, there are four names which establish synchronisms: one by which we arrive directly at the date, and three indirectly. The first is Udayaditya Pramar, king of Dhar (son of Raja Bhoj), whose period I established from numerous inscriptions,^[60] as between S. 1100 and S. 1150; so that the date of his joining the expedition would be about the middle of his reign. The indirect but equally strong testimony consists of,

First, The mention of “the Bhumia Bhatti from Derawar”;^[61] for had there been anything apocryphal in Chand, Jaisalmer, the present capital, would have been given as the Bhatti abode.^[62]

Second, The Kachhwahas, who are also described as coming from Antarved (the region between the Jumna and Ganges); for the infant colony transmitted from Narwar to Amber was yet undistinguished.

The third proof is in the Mewar inscription, when Tejsi, the grandfather of Samarsi, is described as in alliance with Bisaldeo. Bisaldeo is said to have lived sixty-four years. Supposing this date, S. 1120, to be the medium point of his existence, this would make his date S. 1088 to S. 1152, or A.D. 1032 to A.D. 1096; but as his father, Dharmagaj, ‘the elephant in faith,’ or Bir Bilandeo (called Malandeo, in the Hamir Raesa), was killed defending Ajmer on the last invasion of Mahmud, we must necessarily place Bisal’s birth (supposing him an infant on that event), ten years earlier, or A.D. 1022 (S. 1078), to A.D. 1086 (S. 1142), comprehending the date on the pillar of Delhi, and by computation all the periods 1460mentioned in the catalogue. We may therefore safely adopt the date of the Raesa, namely S. 1066 to S. 1130.

Bisaldeo was, therefore, contemporary with Jaipal, the Tuar king of Delhi; with [454] Durlabha and Bhima of Gujarat; with Bhoj and Udayaditya of Dhar; with Padamsi and Tejsi of Mewar; and the confederacy which he headed must have been that against the Islamite king Maudud, the fourth from Mahmud of Ghazni, whose expulsion from the northern parts of Rajputana (as recorded on the pillar of Delhi) caused Aryavarta again to become ‘the land of virtue.’ Mahmud’s final retreat from India by Sind, to avoid the armies collected “by Bairamdeo and the prince of Ajmer” to oppose him, was in A.H. 417, A.D. 1026, or S. 1082, nearly the same date as that assigned by Chand, S. 1086.^[63]

We could dilate on the war which Bisaldeo waged against the prince of Gujarat, his victory, and the erection of Bisalnagar,^[64] on the spot where victory perched upon his lance; but this we reserve for the introduction of the history of the illustrious Prithiraj. There is much fable mixed up with the history of Bisaldeo, apparently invented to hide a blot in the annals, warranting the inference that he became a convert, in all likelihood a compulsory one, to the doctrines of Islam. There is also the appearance of his subsequent expiation of this crime in the garb of a penitent; and the mound (dhundh), where he took up his abode, still exists, and is called after him, Bisal-ka-dhundh, at Kalakh Jobner.^[65]

According to the Book of Kings of Govind Ram (the Hara bard), the Haras were descended from Anuraj, son of Bisaldeo; 1461but Mogji, the Khichi bard,^[66] makes Anuraj progenitor of the Khichis, and son of Manika Rae. We follow the Hara bard.

Anuraj had assigned to him in appanage the important frontier fortress of Asi (vulg. Hansi). His son Ishtpal, together with Aganraj, son of Ajairao, the founder of Khichpur Patan in Sind-Sagar, was preparing to seek his fortunes with Randhir Chauhan, prince of Gualkund: but both Asi and Golkonda were almost simultaneously assailed by an army “from the wilds of Kujliban.” Randhir performed the sakha; and only a single female, his daughter, named Surabhi, survived, and she fled for protection towards Asi, then attacked by the same furious invader. Anuraj prepared to fly; but his son, Ishtpal, determined not to wait the attack, but seek the foe. A battle ensued, when the invader was slain, and Ishtpal, grievously wounded, pursued him till he fell, near the spot where Surabhi was awaiting death under the shade of a pipal: for “hopes of life were extinct, and fear and hunger had [455] reduced her to a skeleton.” In the moment of despair, however, the asvattha (pipal) tree under which she took shelter was severed, and Asapurna, the guardian goddess of her race, appeared before her. To her, Surabhi related how her father and twelve brothers had fallen in defending Golkonda against ‘the demon of Kujliban.’ The goddess told her to be of good cheer, for that a Chauhan of her own race had slain him, and was then at hand; and led her to where Ishtpal lay senseless from his wounds. By her aid he recovered,^[67] and possessed himself of that ancient heirloom of the Chauhans, the famed fortress of Asir.

Ishtpal, the founder of the Haras, obtained Asir in S. 1081 ^[68] (or A.D. 1025); and as Mahmud’s last destructive visit to India, by Multan through the desert to Ajmer, was in A.H. 714, or A.D. 14621022, we have every right to conclude that his father Anuraj lost his life and Asi to the king of Ghazni; at the same time that Ajmer was sacked, and the country laid waste by this conqueror, whom the Hindu bard might well style “the demon from Kujliban.”^[69] The Muhammadan historians give us no hint even of any portion of Mahmud’s army penetrating into the peninsula, though that grasping ambition, which considered the shores of Saurashtra but an intermediate step from Ghazni to the conquest of Ceylon and Pegu, may have pushed an army during his long halt at Anhilwara, and have driven Randhir from Golkonda.^[70] But it is idle to speculate upon such slender materials; let them suffice to illustrate one new fact, namely, that these kingdoms of the south as well as the north were held by Rajput sovereigns, whose offspring, blending with the original population, produced that mixed race of Mahrattas, inheriting with the names the warlike propensities of their ancestors, but who assume the name of their abodes as titles, as the Nimbalkars, the Phalkias, the Patankars, instead of their tribes of Jadon, Tuar, Puar, etc. etc.

Ishtpal had a son called Chandkaran; his son, Lokpal, had Hamir and Gambhir, names well known in the wars of Prithiraj. The brothers were enrolled amongst his [456] one hundred and eight great vassals, from which we may infer that, though Asir was not considered absolutely as a fief, its chief paid homage to Ajmer, as the principal seat of the Chauhans.

In the Kanauj Samaya, that book of the poems of Chand devoted to the famous war in which the Chauhan prince carries off the princess of Kanauj, honourable mention is made of the Hara princes in the third day’s fight, when they covered the retreat of Prithiraj:

“Then did the Hara Rao Hamir, with his brother Gambhir, mounted on Lakhi steeds,^[71] approach their lord, as thus they 1463spoke: ‘Think of thy safety, Jangales,^[72] while we make offerings to the array of Jaichand. Our horses’ hoofs shall plough the field of fight, like the ship of the ocean.’”

The brothers encountered the contingent of the prince of Kasi (Benares), one of the great feudatories of Kanauj. As they joined, “the shout raised by Hamir reached Durga on her rock-bound throne.” Both brothers fell in these wars, though one of the few survivors of the last battle fought with Shihabu-d-din for Rajput independence, was a Hara—

Rāo Chand.

—Amongst the many independent princes of the Chauhan race to whom Alau-d-din was the messenger of fate, was Rao Chand of Asir. Its walls, though deemed impregnable, were not proof against the skill and valour of this energetic warrior; and Chand and all his family, with the exception of one son, were put to the sword. This son was prince Rainsi, a name fatal to Chauhan heirs, for it was borne by the son of Prithiraj who fell in the defence of Delhi: but Rainsi of Asir was more fortunate. He was but an infant of two years and a half old, and being nephew of the Rana of Chitor, was sent to him for protection. When he attained man’s estate, he made a successful attempt upon the ruined castle of Bhainsror, from which he drove Dunga, a Bhil chief, who, with a band of his mountain brethren, had made it his retreat. This ancient fief of Mewar had been dismantled by Alau-d-din in his attack on Chitor, from which the Ranas had not yet recovered when the young Chauhan came amongst them for protection.

Rainsi had two sons, Kolan and Kankhal. Kolan being afflicted with an incurable disease, commenced a pilgrimage to the sacred Kedarnath, one of the towns of the [457] Ganges. To obtain the full benefit of this meritorious act, he determined to measure his length on the ground the whole of this painful journey. In six months he had only reached the Binda Pass, where, having bathed in a fountain whence flows the rivulet Banganga, he found his health greatly restored. Kedarnath ^[73] was pleased to manifest 1464himself, to accept his devotions, and to declare him ‘King of the Patar,’ or plateau of Central India.^[74] The whole of this tract was under the princes of Chitor, but the sack of this famed fortress by Ala, and the enormous slaughter of the Guhilots, had so weakened their authority, that the aboriginal Minas had once more possessed themselves of all their native hills, or leagued with the subordinate vassals of Chitor.

Angatsi, the Hun.

—In ancient times, Raja Hun, said to be of the Pramara race, was lord of the Patar, and held his court at Menal. There are many memorials of this Hūn or Hun prince, and even so far back as the first assault of Chitor, in the eighth century, its prince was aided in his defence by ‛Angatsi, lord of the Huns.' The celebrated temples of Barolli are attributed to this Hun Raja, who appears in so questionable a shape, that we can scarcely refuse to believe that a branch of this celebrated race must in the first centuries of Vikrama have been admitted, as their bards say, amongst the Thirty-six Royal Races of the Rajputs. Be this as it may, Rao Banga, the grandson of Kolan, took possession of the ancient Menal, and on an elevation commanding the western face of the Pathar erected the fortress of Bumbaoda. With Bhainsror on the east, and Bumbaoda and Menal on the west, the Haras now occupied the whole extent of the Patar. Other conquests were made, and Mandalgarh, Bijolli, Begun, Ratnagarh, and Churetagarh, formed an extensive, if not a rich, chieftainship.

Rao Banga had twelve sons, who dispersed their progeny over the Patar. He was succeeded by Dewa, who had three sons, namely, Harraj,^[75] Hatiji, and Samarsi.

Rāo Dewa.

—The Haras had now obtained such power as to attract the attention of the emperor, and Rae Dewa was summoned to attend the court when Sikandar Lodi ruled.^[76] He 1465[458] therefore installed his son Harraj in Bumbaoda, and with his youngest, Samarsi, repaired to Delhi. Here he remained, till the emperor coveting a horse of the ‘king of the Patar,’ the latter determined to regain his native hills. This steed is famed both in the annals of the Haras and Khichis, and, like that of the Mede, had no small share in the future fortunes of his master. Its birth is thus related. The king had a horse of such mettle, that “he could cross a stream without wetting his hoof.” Dewa bribed the royal equerry, and from a mare of the Patar had a colt, to obtain which the king broke that law which is alike binding on the Muslim and the Christian. Dewa sent off his family by degrees, and as soon as they were out of danger, he saddled his charger, and lance in hand appeared under the balcony where the emperor was seated. “Farewell, king,” said the Rangra; “there are three things your majesty must never ask of a Rajput: his horse, his mistress, and his sword.” He gave his steed the rein, and in safety regained the Patar. Having resigned Bumbaoda to Harraj, he came to Bandunal, the spot where his ancestor Kolan was cured of disease. Here the Minas of the Usara tribe dwelt, under the patriarchal government of Jetha, their chief. There was then no regular city; the extremities of the valley (thal^[77]) were closed with barriers of masonry and gates, and the huts of the Minas were scattered wherever their fancy led them to build. At this time the community, which had professed obedience to the Rana on the sack of Chitor, was suffering from the raids of Rao Ganga, the Khichi, who from his castle of Ramgarh (Relawan) imposed 'barchhidohai'^[78] on all around. To save themselves from Ganga, who used “to drive his lance at the barrier of Bandu,” the Minas entered into terms, agreeing, on the full moon of every second month, to suspend the tribute of the chauth over the barrier. At the appointed time, the Rao came, but no bag of treasure appeared. “Who has been before me?” demanded Ganga; when forth issued the ‘lord of the Patar,’ on the steed coveted by the Lodi king. Ganga of Relawan bestrode a charger not less famed than his antagonist’s, “which owed his birth to the river-horse of the Par, and a mare of the Khichi chieftain’s, as she grazed on its 1466margin.^[79] Mounted on this steed, no obstacle could stop him, and even the Chambal was no impediment to his seizing the tribute at all seasons from the Minas” [459].

The encounter was fierce, but the Hara was victorious, and Ganga turned his back on the lord of the Patar, who tried the mettle of this son of the Par, pursuing him to the banks of the Chambal. What was his surprise, when Ganga sprang from the cliff, and horse and rider disappeared in the flood, but soon to reappear on the opposite bank! Dewa, who stood amazed, no sooner beheld the Rao emerge, than he exclaimed, “Bravo, Rajput! Let me know your name.” “Ganga Khichi,” was the answer. “And mine is Dewa Hara; we are brothers, and must no longer be enemies. Let the river be our boundary.”

The Foundation of Būndi.

—It was in S. 1398 (A.D. 1342)^[80] that Jetha and the Usaras acknowledged Rae Dewa as their lord, who erected Bundi in the centre of the Bandu-ka-Nal, which henceforth became the capital of the Haras. The Chambal, which, for a short time after the adventure here related, continued to be the barrier to the eastward, was soon overpassed, and the bravery of the race bringing them into contact with the emperor’s lieutenants, the Haras rose to favour and power, extending their acquisitions, either by conquest or grant, to the confines of Malwa. The territory thus acquired obtained the geographical designation of Haravati or Haraoti.^[81]

25. The importance of Nadol was considerable, and is fully attested by existing inscriptions as well as by the domestic chronicle. Midway from the founder, in the eighth century, to its destruction in the twelfth, was Rao Lakhan, who in S. 1039 (A.D. 983) successfully coped with the princes of Nahrvala.

“Samaya das sai unchālīs
Bār ikauta, Pātan pela paul
Dān Chauhān ugāvi
Mēwār Dhanni dand bhari
Tis par Rāo Lākhan thappi
Jo arambha, so kari.”

Literally: “In S. 1039, at the farther gate of the city of Pātan, the Chauhān collected the commercial duties (dān). He took tribute from the lord of Mēwār, and performed whatever he had a mind to.” [This verse is so corrupt that Dr. Tessitori has been unable to correct it.]

Lakhan drew upon him the arms of Sabuktigin, and his son Mahmud, when Nadol was stripped of its consequence; its temples were thrown down, and its fortress was dilapidated. But it had recovered much of its power, and even sent forth several branches, who all fell under Alau-d-din in the thirteenth century. On the final conquest of India by Shihabu-d-din, the prince of Nadol appears to have effected a compromise, and to have become a vassal of the empire. This conjecture arises from the singularity of its currency, which retains on the one side the names in Sanskrit of its indigenous princes, and on the other that of the conqueror.

59. These inscriptions, while they have given rise to ingenious interpretations, demonstrate the little value of mere translations, even when made by first-rate scholars, who possess no historical knowledge of the tribes to whom they refer. This inscription was first translated by Sir W. Jones in 1784 (Asiatic Researches, vol. i.). A fresh version (from a fresh transcript I believe) was made by Mr. Colebrooke in 1800 (Asiatic Researches, vol. vii.), but rather darkening than enlightening the subject, from attending to his pandit’s emendation, giving to the prince’s name and tribe a metaphorical interpretation. Nor was it till Wilford had published his hodge-podge Essay on Vikramaditya and Salivahana, that Mr. Colebrooke discovered his error, and amended it in a note to that volume; but even then, without rendering the inscription useful as a historical document. I call Wilford’s essay a hodge-podge advisedly. It is a paper of immense research; vast materials are brought to his task, but he had an hypothesis, and all was confounded to suit it. Chauhans, Solankis, Guhilots, all are amalgamated in his crucible. It was from the Sarangadhar Padhati, written by the bard of Hamira Chauhan, not king of Mewar (as Wilford has it), but of Ranthambhor, lineally descended from Visaladeva, and slain by Alau-d-din. Sarangadhar was also author of the Hamir Raesa, and the Hamir Kavya, bearing this prince’s name, the essence of both of which I translated with the aid of my Guru. [For these works see Grierson, Modern Literature of Hindustan, 6.] I was long bewildered in my admiration of Wilford’s researches; but experience inspired distrust, and I adopted the useful adage in all these matters, 'nil admirari.' [Cunningham, while admitting the wild speculations of Wilford, says that important facts and classical references are to be found in his Essays (ASR, i. Introd. xviii. note)note).]

CHAPTER 2

Recapitulation of Hāra History.

—Having sketched the history of this race, from the regeneration of Anhal,^[1] the first Chauhan (at a period which it is impossible to fix), to the establishment of the first Hara prince in Bundi, we shall here recapitulate the most conspicuous princes, with [460] their dates, as established by synchronical events in the annals of other States, or by inscriptions; and then proceed with the history of the Haras as members of the great commonwealth of India.

Ishtpal, son of Anuraj; he was expelled from Asi, S. 1081 (A.D. 1025), and obtained Asir. He was founder of the Haras; the chronicle says not how long after obtaining Asi, but evidently very soon.

Hamir, killed in the battle of the Ghaggar, on the invasion of Shihabu-d-din, S. 1249, or A.D. 1193.

Rao Dewa, S. 1398 (A.D. 1342), took the Bandu valley from the Minas, founded the city of Bundi, and styled the country Haravati.

Rao Dewa, whose Mina subjects far outnumbered his Haras, had recourse, in order to consolidate his authority, to one of those barbarous acts too common in Rajput conquests. The Rajput chronicler so far palliates the deed, that he assigns a reason for it, namely, the insolence of the Mina leader, who dared to ask a daughter of the ‘lord of the Patar.’ Be this as it may, he called in the aid of the Haras of Bumbaoda and the Solankis of Toda, and almost annihilated the Usaras.

Abdication of Rāo Dewa.

—How long it was after this act of barbarity that Dewa abdicated in favour of his son, is not mentioned, though it is far from improbable that this crime influenced his determination. This was the second time of his abdication of power: first, when he gave Bumbaoda to Harraj, and went to Sikandar Lodi; and now to Samarsi, the branches of Bundi and the Patar remaining independent of each other. The act of abdication confers the title of Jugraj;^[2] or when they conjoin the authority of the son with the father, the heir is styled Jivaraj. Four instances of this are on record in the annals of Bundi; namely, by Dewa, by Narayandas, by Raj Chhattar Sal, and by Sriji Ummed Singh. It is a rule for a prince never to enter the capital after abandoning the government; the king is virtually defunct; he cannot be a subject, and he is no longer a king. To render the act more impressive, they make an effigy of the abdicated king, and on the twelfth day following the act (being the 1468usual period of [461] mourning) they commit it to the flames.^[3] In accordance with this custom, Dewa never afterwards entered the walls either of Bundi or Bumbaoda,^[4] but resided at the village of Umarthuna, five coss from the former, till his death.

Rāo Napuji.

—Samarsi had three sons: 1. Napuji, who succeeded; 2. Harpal, who obtained Jajawar, and left numerous issue, called Harpalpotas; and 3. Jethsi, who had the honour of first extending the Hara name beyond the Chambal. On his return from a visit to the Tuar chief of Kaithan, he passed the residence of a community of Bhils, in an extensive ravine near the river. Taking them by surprise, he attacked them, and they fell victims to the fury of the Haras. At the entrance of this ravine, which was defended by an outwork, Jethsi slew the leader of the Bhils, and erected there a hathi (elephant) to the god of battle, Bhairon. He stands on the spot called Char-jhopra, near the chief portal of the castle of Kotah, a name derived from a community of Bhils called Kotia.^[5]

1469

Napuji.

—Napuji, a name of no small note in the chronicles of Haravati, succeeded Samarsi. Napuji had married a daughter of the Solanki, chief of Toda,^[6] the lineal descendant of the ancient kings of Anhilwara. While on a visit to Toda, a slab of beautiful marble attracted the regard of the Hara Rao, who desired his bride to ask it of her father. His delicacy was offended, and he replied, “he supposed the Hara would next ask him for his wife”; and desired him to depart. Napuji was incensed, and visited his anger upon his wife, whom he treated with neglect and even banished from his bed. She complained to her father. On the Kajri Tij, the joyous third of the [462] month Sawan, when a Rajput must visit his wife, the vassals of Bundi were dismissed to their homes to keep the festival sacred to ‘the mother of births.’ The Toda Rao, taking advantage of the unguarded state of Bundi, obtained admittance by stealth, and drove his lance through the head of the Hara Rao. He retired without observation, and was relating to his attendants the success of his revenge, when, at this moment, they passed one of the Bundi vassals, who, seated in a hollow taking his amal-pani (opium-water), was meditating on the folly of going home, where no endearing caresses awaited him from his wife, who was deranged, and had determined to return to Bundi. While thus absorbed in gloomy reflections, the trampling of horses met his ear, and soon was heard the indecent mirth of the Toda Rao’s party, at the Hara Rao dismissing his vassals and remaining unattended. The Chauhan guessed the rest, and as the Toda Rao passed close to 1470him, he levelled a blow, which severed his right arm from his body and brought him from his horse. The Solanki’s attendants took to flight, and the Chauhan put the severed limb, on which was the golden bracelet, in his scarf, and proceeded back to Bundi. Here all was confusion and sorrow. The Solanki queen, true to her faith, determined to mount the pyre with the murdered body of her lord; yet equally true to the line whence she sprung, was praising the vigour of her brother’s arm, “which had made so many mouths,^[7] that she wanted hands to present a pan to each.” At the moment she was apostrophizing the dead body of her lord, his faithful vassal entered, and undoing the scarf presented to her the dissevered arm, saying, “Perhaps this may aid you.” She recognized the bracelet, and though, as a Sati, she had done with this world, and should die in peace with all mankind, she could not forget, even at that dread moment, that “to revenge a feud” was the first of all duties. She called for pen and ink, and before mounting the pyre wrote to her brother, that if he did not wipe off that disgrace, his seed would be stigmatized as the issue of “the one-handed Solanki.” When he perused the dying words of his Sati sister, he was stung to the soul, and being incapable of revenge, immediately dashed out his brains against a pillar of the hall.

Hamuji. Alu.

—Napuji had four sons, Hamuji, Naurang (whose descendants are Naurangpotas), Tharad (whose descendants are Tharad Haras), and Hamu, who succeeded in S. 1440. We have already mentioned the separation of the branches, when Harraj retained Bumbaoda, at the period when his father established himself at Bundi. Alu Hara [463] succeeded; but the lord of the Patar had a feud with the Rana, and he was dispossessed of his birthright. Bumbaoda was levelled, and he left no heirs to his revenge.

Mewār attempts to regain Influence in Būndi.

—The princes of Chitor, who had recovered from the shock of Ala’s invasion, now re-exerted their strength, the first act of which was the reduction of the power of the great vassals, who had taken advantage of their distresses to render themselves independent: among these they included the Haras. But the Haras deny their vassalage, and allege, that though they always acknowledged the supremacy of the gaddi of Mewar, they were indebted to their swords, not 1471his pattas, for the lands they conquered on the Alpine Patar. Both to a certain degree are right. There is no room to doubt that the fugitive Hara from Asir owed his preservation, as well as his establishment, to the Rana, who assuredly possessed the whole of the Plateau till Ala’s invasion. But then the Sesodia power was weakened; the Bhumias and aboriginal tribes recovered their old retreats, and from these the Haras obtained them by conquest. The Rana, however, who would not admit that a temporary abeyance of his power sanctioned any encroachment upon it, called upon Hamu “to do service for Bundi.” The Hara conceded personal homage in the grand festivals of the Dasahra and Holi, to acknowledge his supremacy and receive the tika of installation; but he rejected at once the claim of unlimited attendance. Nothing less, however, would satisfy the king of Chitor, who resolved to compel submission, or drive the stock of Dewa from the Patar. Hamu defied, and determined to brave, his resentment. The Rana of Mewar marched with all his vassals to Bundi, and encamped at Nimera, only a few miles from the city. Five hundred Haras, ‘the sons of one father,’ put on the saffron robe, and rallied round their chief, determined to die with him. Having no hope but from an effort of despair, they marched out at midnight, and fell upon the Rana’s camp, which was completely surprised; and each Sesodia sought safety in flight. Hamu made his way direct to the tent of Hindupati;^[8] but the sovereign of the Sesodias was glad to avail himself of the gloom and confusion to seek shelter in Chitor, while his vassals fell under the swords of the Haras.

Humiliated, disgraced, and enraged at being thus foiled by a handful of men, the Rana re-formed his troops under the walls of Chitor, and swore he would not eat until he was master of Bundi. The rash vow went round; but Bundi was sixty miles distant, and defended by brave hearts. His chiefs expostulated with the Rana on the absolute impossibility of redeeming his vow; but the words of kings are sacred: Bundi must fall, ere the king of the Guhilots could dine. In this exigence, a childish [464] expedient was proposed to release him from hunger and his oath; “to erect a mock Bundi and take it by storm.”^[9] Instantly the 1472mimic town arose under the walls of Chitor; and, that the deception might be complete, the local nomenclature was attended to, and each quarter had its appropriate appellation. A band of Haras of the Patar were in the service of Chitor, whose leader, Kumbha-Bersi, was returning with his kin from hunting the deer, when their attention was attracted by this strange bustle. The story was soon told, that Bundi must fall ere the Rana could dine. Kumbha assembled his brethren of the Patar, declaring that even the mock Bundi must be defended. All felt the indignity to the clan, and each bosom burning with indignation, they prepared to protect the mud walls of the pseudo Bundi from insult. It was reported to the Rana that Bundi was finished. He advanced to the storm: but what was his surprise when, instead of the blank-cartridge, he heard a volley of balls whiz amongst them! A messenger was dispatched, and was received by Bersi at the gate, who explained the cause of the unexpected salutation, desiring him to tell the Rana that “not even the mock capital of a Hara should be dishonoured.” Spreading a sheet at the little gateway, Bersi and the Kumbhawats invited the assault, and at the threshold of “Gar-ki-Bundi” (the Bundi of clay) they gave up their lives for the honour of the race.^[10] The Rana wisely remained satisfied with this salvo to his dignity, nor sought any further to wipe off the disgrace incurred at the real capital of the Haras, perceiving the impolicy of driving such a daring clan to desperation, whose services he could command on an emergency.

Rāo Bīr Singh.

—Hamu, who ruled sixteen years, left two sons: 1. Birsingh; and 2. Lala, who obtained Khatkar, and had two sons, Nauvarma and Jetha, each of whom left clans called after them Nauvarma-pota and Jethawat. Birsingh ruled fifteen years, and left three sons: Biru, Jabdu, who founded three tribes,^[11] 1473and Nima, descendants Nimawats. Biru, who died S. 1526, ruled fifty years, and had seven sons: 1. Rao Bandu; 2. Sanda; 3. Aka; 4. Uda; 5. Chanda; 6. Samarsingh; 7. Amarsingh;—the first five founded clans named after them Akawat, Udawat, Chondawat, but the last two abandoned their faith for that of Islam [465].

Rāo Banda, c. A.D. 1485.

—Banda has left a deathless name in Rajwara for his boundless charities, more especially during the famine which desolated that country in S. 1542 (A.D. 1486).^[12] He was forewarned, says the bard, in a vision, of the visitation. Kal (Time or the famine personified) appeared riding on a lean black buffalo. Grasping his sword and shield, the intrepid Hara assaulted the apparition. “Bravo, Banda Hara,” it exclaimed; “I am Kal (Time); on me your sword will fall in vain. Yet you are the only mortal who ever dared to oppose me. Now listen: I am Byalis (forty-two); the land will become a desert; fill your granaries, distribute liberally, they will never empty.” Thus saying, the spectre vanished. Rao Banda obeyed the injunction; he collected grain from every surrounding State. One year passed and another had almost followed, when the periodical rains ceased, and a famine ensued which ravaged all India. Princes far and near sent for aid to Bundi, while his own poor had daily portions served out gratis: which practice is still kept up in memory of Rao Banda, by the name of Langar-ki-gagari, or ‘anchor of Banda.’^[13]

But the piety and charity of Rao Banda could not shield him from adversity. His two youngest brothers, urged by the temptation of power, abandoned their faith, and with the aid of the royal power expelled him from Bundi, where, under their new titles of Samarkandi and Amarkandi, they jointly ruled eleven years. Banda retired to Matunda, in the hills, where he died after a reign of twenty-one years, and where his cenotaph still remains. He left two sons: 1. Narayandas; and 2. Nirbudh, who had Matunda.

1474

Rāo Nārāyandās.

—Narayan had grown up to manhood in this retreat; but no sooner was he at liberty to act for himself, than he assembled the Haras of the Patar, and revealed his determination to obtain Bundi, or perish in the attempt. They swore to abide his fortunes. After the days of matam (mourning) were over, he sent to his Islamite uncles a complimentary message, intimating his wish to pay his respects to them; and not suspecting danger from a youth brought up in obscurity, it was signified that he might come.

With a small but devoted band, he reached the chauk (square), where he left his adherents, and alone repaired to the palace. He ascended to where both the uncles were seated almost unattended. They liked not the resolute demeanour of the youth, and tried to gain a passage which led to a subterranean apartment; but no sooner was this intention perceived, than the khanda, or ‘double-edged sword,’ of Banda’s son cut the elder to the ground, while his lance reached the other before he got to a [466] place of security. In an instant, he severed both their heads, with which he graced the shrine of Bhavani, and giving a shout to his followers in the chauk, their swords were soon at work upon the Muslims. Every true Hara supported the just cause, and the dead bodies of the apostates and their crew were hurled with ignominy over the walls. To commemorate this exploit and the recovery of Bundi from these traitors, the pillar on which the sword of the young Hara descended, when he struck down Samarkandi, and which bears testimony to the vigour of his arm, is annually worshipped by every Hara on the festival of the Dasahra.^[14]

Narayandas became celebrated for his strength and prowess. He was one of those undaunted Rajputs who are absolutely strangers to the impression of fear, and it might be said of danger and himself, “that they were brothers whelped the same day, and he the elder.” Unfortunately, these qualities were rendered inert from the enormous quantity of opium he took, which would have killed most men; for it is recorded “he could at one time eat the weight of seven pice.”^[15] The consequence of this vice, 1475as might be expected, was a constant stupefaction, of which many anecdotes are related. Being called to aid the Rana Raemall, then attacked by the Pathans of Mandu, he set out at the head of five hundred select Haras. On the first day’s march he was taking his siesta, after his usual dose, under a tree, his mouth wide open, into which the flies had unmolested ingress, when a young Telin ^[16] came to draw water at the well, and on learning that this was Bundi’s prince on his way to aid the Rana in his distress, she observed, “If he gets no other aid than his, alas for my prince!” “The amaldar (opium-eater) has quick ears, though no eyes,” is a common adage in Rajwara. “What is that you say, rand (widow)?” roared the Rao, advancing to her. Upon her endeavouring to excuse herself, he observed, “Do not fear, but repeat it.” In her hand she had an iron crowbar, which the Rao, taking it from her, twisted until the ends met round her neck. “Wear this garland for me,” said he, “until I return from aiding the Rana, unless in the interim you can find some one strong enough to unbind it.”

The Siege of Chitor.

—Chitor was closely invested; the Rao moved by the intricacies of the Patar, took the royal camp by surprise, and made direct for the tent of the generalissimo, cutting down all in his way. Confusion and panic seized the Muslims, who fled in [467] all directions.^[17] The Bundi nakkaras (drums) struck up; and as the morning broke, the besieged had the satisfaction to behold the invaders dispersed and their auxiliaries at hand. Rana Raemall came forth, and conducted his deliverer in triumph to Chitor. All the chiefs assembled to do honour to Bundi’s prince, and the ladies ‘behind the curtain’ felt so little alarm at their opium-eating knight, that the Rana’s niece determined to espouse him, and next day communicated her intentions to the Rana. ‘The slave of Narayan'’ was too courteous a cavalier to let any fair lady die for his love; the Rana was too 1476sensible of his obligation not to hail with joy any mode of testifying his gratitude, and the nuptials of the Hara and Ketu were celebrated with pomp. With victory and his bride, he returned to the Banda valley; where, however, ‘the flower of gloomy Dis’ soon gained the ascendant even over Kamdeo,^[18] and his doses augmented to such a degree, that “he scratched his lady instead of himself, and with such severity that he marred the beauty of the Mewari.” In the morning, perceiving what had happened, yet being assailed with no reproach, he gained a reluctant victory over himself, and “consigned the opium-box to her keeping.” Narayandas ruled thirty-two years, and left his country in tranquillity, and much extended, to his only son.

Rāo Sūrajmall, c. A.D. 1533.

—Surajmall ascended the gaddi in S. 1590 (A.D. 1534). Like his father, he was athletic in form and dauntless in soul; and it is said possessed in an eminent degree that unerring sign of a hero, long arms, his (like those of Rama and Prithiraj) “reaching far below his knees.”

The alliance with Chitor was again cemented by intermarriage. Suja Bai, sister to Surajmall, was espoused by Rana Ratna, who bestowed his own sister on the Rao. Rao Suja, like his father, was too partial to his amal. One day, at Chitor, he had fallen asleep in the Presence, when a Purbia chief felt an irresistible inclination to disturb him, and “tickled the Hara’s ear with a straw.” He might as well have jested with a tiger: a back stroke with his khanda stretched the insulter on the carpet. The son of the Purbia treasured up the feud, and waited for revenge, which he effected by making the Rana believe the Rao had other objects in view, besides visiting his sister Suja Bai, at the Rawala. The train thus laid, the slightest incident inflamed it. The fair Suja had prepared a repast, to which she invited both her brother and her husband: she had not only attended the culinary process herself, but waited on these objects of her love to drive the flies from the food. Though the wedded fair of Rajputana clings to the husband, yet she is ever more solicitous for [468] the honour of the house from whence she sprung, than that into which she has been admitted; which feeling has engendered numerous quarrels. Unhappily, Suja remarked, on removing the dishes, that “her brother had devoured his share like a tiger, while her husband had played with his like a child (balak).” The expression, 1477added to other insults which he fancied were put upon him, cost the Rao his life, and sent the fair Suja an untimely victim to Indraloka.^[19] The dictates of hospitality prevented the Rana from noticing the remark at the moment, and in fact it was more accordant with the general tenor of his character to revenge the affront with greater security than even the isolated situation of the brave Hara afforded him. On the latter taking leave, the Rana invited himself to hunt on the next spring festival in the ramnas or preserves of Bundi. The merry month of Phalgun arrived; the Rana and his court prepared their suits of amaua (green), and ascended the Patar on the road to Bundi, in spite of the anathema of the prophetic Sati, who, as she ascended the pyre at Bumbaoda, pronounced that whenever Rao and Rana met to hunt together at the Aheria, such meeting, which had blasted all her hopes, would always be fatal. But centuries had rolled between the denunciation of the daughter of Alu Hara and Suja Bai of Bundi; and the prophecy, though in every mouth, served merely to amuse the leisure hour; the moral being forgotten it was only looked upon as ‘a tale that was past.’

Murder of Rāo Sūrajmall.

—The scene chosen for the sport was on the heights of Nanta, not far from the western bank of the Chambal, in whose glades every species of game, from the lordly lion to the timid hare, abounded. The troops were formed into lines, advancing through the jungles with the customary noise and clamour, and driving before them a promiscuous herd of tenants of the forest—lions, tigers, hyenas, bears, every species of deer, from the enormous barahsinghae and nilgae ^[20] to the delicate antelope, with jackals, foxes, hares, and the little wild dog. In such an animated scene as this, the Rajput forgets even his opium; he requires no exhilaration beyond the stimulus before him; a species of petty war, not altogether free from danger.

It was amidst the confusion of such a scene that the dastard Rana determined to gratify his malice. The princes had convenient stations assigned them, where they could securely assail the game as it passed, each having but one or two confidential attendants. With the Rana was the Iago of his revenge, the son of the Purbia, whom the Hara prince had slain. “Now is the 1478moment,” said the Rana to his companion, “to slay the boar,” and instantly an arrow from the bow of the Purbia was [469] sped at the Rao. “With an eagle’s eye he saw it coming, and turned it off with his bow.” This might have been chance, but another from the foster-brother of the Rana convinced him there was treachery. Scarcely had he warded off the second, when the Rana darted at him on horseback, and cut him down with his khanda. The Rao fell, but recovering, took his shawl and tightly bound up the wound, and as his foe was making off he called aloud, “Escape you may, but you have sunk Mewar.” The Purbia, who followed his prince, when he saw the Rao bind up his wound, said, “The work is but half done”; and like a coward, Ratna once more charged the wounded Rao. As his arm was raised to finish the deed of shame, like a wounded tiger the Hara made a dying effort, caught the assassin by the robe, and dragged him from his steed. Together they came to the ground, the Rana underneath. The Rao knelt upon his breast, while, with preternatural strength, with one hand he grasped his victim by the throat, with the other he searched for his dagger. What a moment for revenge! He plunged the weapon into his assassin’s heart, and saw him expire at his feet. The Rao was satisfied; there was no more life left him than sufficed for revenge, and he dropped a corpse upon the dead body of his foeman.

The tidings flew to Bundi, to the mother of the Rao, that her son was slain in the Aheria. “Slain!” exclaimed this noble dame, “but did he fall alone? Never could a son, who has drunk at this breast, depart unaccompanied”; and as she spoke, “maternal feeling caused the milk to issue from the fount with such force, that it rent the slab on which it fell.”

The Satis.

—The dread of dishonour, which quenched the common sympathies of nature for the death of her son, had scarcely been thus expressed, when a second messenger announced the magnitude of his revenge. The Rajput dame was satisfied, though fresh horrors were about to follow. The wives of the murdered princes could not survive, and the pyres were prepared on the fatal field of sport. The fair Suja expiated her jest, which cost her a husband and a brother, in the flames, while the sister of Rana Ratna, married to the Rao, in accordance with custom or affection, burned with the dead body of her lord. The cenotaphs of the princes were reared where they fell; while that of 1479Suja Bai was erected on a pinnacle of the Pass, and adds to the picturesque beauty of this romantic valley, which possesses a double charm for the traveller, who may have taste to admire the scene, and patience to listen to the story [470].^[21]

Rāo Surthān, c. A.D. 1534.

—Surthan succeeded in S. 1591 (A.D. 1535), and married the daughter of the celebrated Sakta, founder of the Saktawats of Mewar. He became an ardent votary of the bloodstained divinity of war, Kal-Bhairava, and like almost all those ferocious Rajputs who resign themselves to his horrid rites, grew cruel and at length deranged. Human victims are the chief offerings to this brutalized personification of war, though Surthan was satisfied with the eyes of his subjects, which he placed upon the altar of ‘the mother of war.’ It was then time to question the divine right by which he ruled. The assembled nobles deposed and banished him from Bundi, assigning a small village on the Chambal for his residence, to which he gave the name Surthanpur, which survives to bear testimony to one of many instances of the deposition of their princes by the Rajputs, when they offend custom or morality. Having no offspring, the nobles elected the son of Nirbudh, son of Rao Banda, who had been brought up in his patrimonial village of Matunda.

Rāo Arjun.

—Rao Arjun, the eldest of the eight sons ^[22] of Nirbudh, succeeded his banished cousin. Nothing can more effectually evince the total extinction of animosity between these valiant races, when once ‘a feud is balanced,’ than the fact of Rao Arjun, soon after his accession, devoting himself and his valiant kinsmen to the service of the son of that Rana who had slain his predecessor. The memorable attack upon Chitor by Bahadur of Gujarat has already been related,^[23] and the death of the Hara prince and his vassals at the post of honour, the breach. Rao Arjun was this prince, who was blown up at the Chitori burj (bastion). The Bundi bard makes a striking picture of this catastrophe, in which the indomitable courage of their prince is finely imagined. The fact is also confirmed by the annals of Mewar:

1480“Seated on a fragment of the rock, disparted by the explosion of the mine, Arjun drew his sword, and the world beheld his departure with amazement.”^[24]

Surjan, the eldest of the four sons ^[25] of Arjun, succeeded in S. 1589 (A.D. 1533) [471].

5. [This is a folk etymology, the real name of the Bhīl sept being Khota.] The descendants of Jethsi retained the castle and the surrounding country for several generations; when Bhonangsi, the fifth in descent, was dispossessed of them by Rao Surajmall of Bundi. Jethsi had a son, Surjan, who gave the name of Kotah to this abode of the Bhils, round which he built a wall. His son Dhirdeo excavated twelve lakes, and dammed up that east of the town, still known by his name, though better by its new appellation of Kishor Sagar.Sagar. His son was Kandhal, who had Bhonangsi, who lost and regained Kotah in the following manner. Kotah was seized by two Pathans, Dhakar and Kesar Khan. Bhonang, who became mad from excessive use of wine and opium, was banished to Bundi, and his wife, at the head of his household vassals, retired to Kaithan, around which the Haras held three hundred and sixty villages. Bhonang, in exile, repented of his excesses; he announced his amendment and his wish to return to his wife and kin.kin. The intrepid Rajputni rejoiced at his restoration, and laid a plan for the recovery of Kotah, in which she destined him to take part. To attempt it by force would have been to court destruction, and she determined to combine stratagem and courage. When the jocund festival of spring approached, when even decorum is for a while cast aside in the Rajput Saturnalia, she invited herself, with all the youthful damsels of Kaithan, to play the Holi with the Pathans of Kotah. The libertine Pathans received the invitation with joy, happy to find the queen of Kaithan evince so much amity. Collecting three hundred of the finest Hara youths, she disguised them in female apparel, and Bhonang, attended by the old nurse, each with a vessel of the crimson abir, headed the band. While the youths were throwing the crimson powder amongst the Pathans, the nurse led Bhonang to play with their chief. The disguised Hara broke his vessel on the head of Kesar Khan. This was the signal for action: the Rajputs drew their swords from beneath their ghaghras (petticoats), and the bodies of Kesar and his gang strewed the terrace. The masjid of Kesar Khan still exists within the walls. Bhonang was succeeded by his son Dungarsi, whom Rao Surajmall dispossessed and added Kotah to Bundi.

CHAPTER 3

Rāo Surjan, A.D. 1554.

—With Rao Surjan commenced a new era for Bundi.^[1] Hitherto her princes had enjoyed independence, excepting the homage and occasional service on emergencies which are maintained as much from kinship as vassalage. But they were now about to move in a more extended orbit, and to occupy a conspicuous page in the future history of the empire of India.

Sawant Singh, a junior branch of Bundi, upon the expulsion of the Shershahi dynasty, entered into a correspondence with the Afghan governor of Ranthambhor, which terminated in the surrender of this celebrated fortress, which he delivered up to his superior, the Rao Surjan. For this important service, which obtained a castle and possession far superior to any under Bundi, lands were assigned near the city to Sawantji, whose name became renowned, and was transmitted as the head of the clan, Sawant-Hara.

The Chauhan chief of Bedla,^[2] who was mainly instrumental to the surrender of this famed fortress, stipulated that it should be held by Rao Surjan, as a fief of Mewar. Thus Ranthambhor, which for ages was an appanage of Ajmer, and continued until the 1481fourteenth century in a branch of the family descended from Bisaldeo, when it was [472] captured from the valiant Hamir ^[3] after a desperate resistance, once more reverted to the Chauhan race.

Siege of Ranthambhor by Akbar.

—Ranthambhor was an early object of Akbar’s attention, who besieged it in person. He had been some time before its impregnable walls without the hope of its surrender, when Bhagwandas of Amber and his son, the more celebrated Raja Man, who had not only tendered their allegiance to Akbar, but allied themselves to him by marriage, determined to use their influence to make Surjan Hara faithless to his pledge, “to hold the castle as a fief of Chitor.”^[4] That courtesy, which is never laid aside amongst belligerent Rajputs, obtained Raja Man access to the castle, and the emperor accompanied him in the guise of a mace-bearer. While conversing, an uncle of the Rao recognized the emperor, and with that sudden impulse which arises from respect, took the mace from his hand and placed Akbar on the ‘cushion’ of the governor of the castle. Akbar’s presence of mind did not forsake him, and he said, “Well, Rao Surjan, what is to be done?” which was replied to by Raja Man, “Leave the Rana, give up Ranthambhor, and become the servant of the king, with high honours and office.” The proffered bribe was indeed magnificent; the government of fifty-two districts, whose revenues were to be appropriated without inquiry, on furnishing the customary contingent, and liberty to name any other terms, which should be solemnly guaranteed by the king.^[5]

1482A treaty was drawn up upon the spot, and mediated by the prince of Amber, which presents a good picture of Hindu feeling:

1. That the chiefs of Bundi should be exempted from that custom, degrading to a Rajput, of sending a dola^[6] to the royal harem.

4. That the vassals of Bundi should be exempted from the obligation of sending [473] their wives or female relatives ‘to hold a stall in the Mina Bazar’ at the palace, on the festival of Nauroza.^[7]

5. That they should have the privilege of entering the Diwan-i-amm, or ‘hall of audience,’ completely armed.

9. That they should be allowed to beat their nakkaras, or ‘kettledrums,’ in the streets of the capital as far as the Lal Darwaza or ‘red-gate’; and that they should not be commanded to make the ‘prostration’^[9] on entering the Presence.

10. That Bundi should be to the Haras what Delhi was to the king, who should guarantee them from any change of capital.

In addition to these articles, which the king swore to maintain, he assigned the Rao a residence at the sacred city of Kasi, possessing that privilege so dear to the Rajput, the right of sanctuary, 1483which is maintained to this day.^[10] With such a bribe, and the full acceptance of his terms, we cannot wonder that Rao Surjan flung from him the remnant of allegiance he owed to Mewar, now humbled by the loss of her capital, or that he should agree to follow the victorious car of the Mogul. But this dereliction of duty was effaced by the rigid virtue of the brave Sawant Hara, who, as already stated, had conjointly with the Kotharia Chauhan ^[11] obtained Ranthambhor. He put on the saffron robes, and with his small but virtuous clan determined, in spite of his sovereign’s example, that Akbar should only gain possession over their lifeless bodies.

Previous to this explosion of useless fidelity, he set up a pillar with a solemn anathema engraved thereon, on “whatever Hara of gentle blood should ascend the castle of Ranthambhor, or who should quit it alive.” Sawant and his kin made the sacrifice to honour; “they gave up their life’s blood to maintain their fidelity to the Rana,” albeit himself without a capital; and from that day, no Hara ever [474] passes Ranthambhor without averting his head from an object which caused disgrace to the tribe. With this transaction all intercourse ceased with Mewar, and from this period the Hara bore the title of ‘Rao Raja’ of Bundi.

Rāo Surjan in the Imperial Service.

—Rao Surjan was soon called into action, and sent as commander to reduce Gondwana, so named from being the ‘region of the Gonds.’^[12] He took their capital, Bari, by assault, and to commemorate the achievement erected the gateway still called the Surjanpol. The Gond leaders he carried captives to the emperor, and generously interceded for their restoration to liberty, and to a portion of their 1484possessions. On effecting this service, the king added seven districts to his grant, including Benares and Chunar. This was in S. 1632, or A.D. 1576, the year in which Rana Partap of Mewar fought the battle of Haldighat against Sultan Salim.^[13]

Rao Surjan resided at his government of Benares, and by his piety, wisdom, and generosity, benefited the empire and the Hindus at large, whose religion through him was respected. Owing to the prudence of his administration and the vigilance of his police, the most perfect security to person and property was established throughout the province. He beautified and ornamented the city, especially that quarter where he resided, and eighty-four edifices, for various public purposes, and twenty baths, were constructed under his auspices. He died there, and left three legitimate sons: 1. Rao Bhoj; 2. Duda, nicknamed by Akbar, Lakar Khan; 3. Raemall, who obtained the town and dependencies of Puleta, now one of the fiefs of Kotah and the residence of the Raemallot Haras.

The Campaign in Gujarāt.

—About this period, Akbar transferred the seat of government from Delhi to Agra, which he enlarged and called Akbarabad. Having determined on the reduction of Gujarat, he dispatched thither an immense army, which he followed with a select force mounted on camels. Of these, adopting the custom of the desert princes of India, he had formed a corps of five hundred, each having two fighting men in a pair of panniers. To this select force, composed chiefly of Rajputs, were attached Rao Bhoj and Duda his brother. Proceeding with the utmost celerity, Akbar joined his army besieging Surat, before which many desperate encounters took place.^[14] In the final assault the Hara Rao slew the leader of the enemy; on which occasion the king commanded him to “name his reward.” The Rao limited his request to leave to visit his estates annually during the periodical rains, which was granted.

The perpetual wars of Akbar, for the conquest and consolidation of the universal [475] empire of India, gave abundant opportunity to the Rajput leaders to exert their valour; and the Haras were ever at the post of danger and of honour. The siege 1485and escalade of the famed castle of Ahmadnagar afforded the best occasion for the display of Hara intrepidity; again it shone forth, and again claimed distinction and reward.^[15] To mark his sense of the merits of the Bundi leader, the king commanded that a new bastion should be erected, where he led the assault, which he named the Bhoj burj; and further presented him his own favourite elephant. In this desperate assault, Chand Begam, the queen of Ahmadnagar, and an armed train of seven hundred females, were slain, gallantly fighting for their freedom.

Notwithstanding all these services, Rao Bhoj fell under the emperor’s displeasure. On the death of the queen, Jodha Bai, Akbar commanded a court-mourning; and that all might testify a participation in their master’s affliction, an ordinance issued that all the Rajput chiefs, as well as the Muslim leaders, should shave the moustache and the beard.^[16] To secure compliance, the royal barbers had the execution of the mandate. But when they came to the quarters of the Haras, in order to remove these tokens of manhood, they were repulsed with buffets and contumely. The enemies of Rao Bhoj aggravated the crime of this resistance, and insinuated to the royal ear that the outrage upon the barbers was accompanied with expressions insulting to the memory of the departed princess, who, it will be remembered, was a Rajputni of Marwar. Akbar, forgetting his vassal’s gallant services, commanded that Rao Bhoj should be pinioned and forcibly deprived of his ‘mouche.’ He might as well have commanded the operation on a tiger. The Haras flew to their arms; the camp was thrown into tumult, and would soon have presented a wide scene of bloodshed, had not the emperor, seasonably repenting of his folly, repaired to the Bundi quarters in person. He expressed his admiration (he might have said his fear) of Hara valour, alighted from his elephant to expostulate with the Rao, who with considerable tact pleaded his father’s privileges, and added “that an eater of pork like him was unworthy the distinction of putting his lip into mourning for the queen.” Akbar, 1486happy to obtain even so much acknowledgment, embraced the Rao, and carried him with him to his own quarters.

Death of Akbar.

—In this portion of the Bundi memoirs is related the mode of Akbar’s death.^[17] He had designed to take off the great Raja Man by means of a poisoned confection formed into pills. To throw the Raja off his guard, he had prepared other pills which were [476] innocuous; but in his agitation he unwittingly gave these to the Raja, and swallowed those which were poisoned. On the emperor’s death, Rao Bhoj retired to his hereditary dominions, and died in his palace of Bundi, leaving three sons, Rao Ratan, Harda Narayan,^[18] and Keshodas.^[19]

Rāo Ratan.

—Jahangir was now sovereign of India. He had nominated his son Parvez to the government of the Deccan, and having invested him in the city of Burhanpur, returned to the north. But Prince Khurram, jealous of his brother, conspired against and slew him.^[20] This murder was followed by an attempt to dethrone his father Jahangir, and as he was popular with the Rajput princes, being son of a princess of Amber, a formidable rebellion was raised; or, as the chronicle says, “the twenty-two Rajas turned against the king, all but Rao Ratan”:

“The lake had burst, the waters were rushing out; where now the remedy? The house of Jahangir was departing; it was sustained by Rao Ratan.”

Partition of Hāraoti.

—With his two sons, Madho Singh and Hari, Ratan repaired to Burhanpur, where he gained a complete 1487victory over the rebels. In this engagement, which took place on Tuesday the full moon of Kartika, S. 1635 (A.D. 1579), both his sons were severely wounded. For these services Rao Ratan was rewarded with the government of Burhanpur; and Madho his second son received a grant of the city of Kotah and its dependencies, which he and his heirs were to hold direct of the crown. From this period, therefore, dates the partition of Haraoti, when the emperor, in his desire to reward Madho Singh, overlooked the greater services of his father. But in this Jahangir did not act without design; on the contrary, he dreaded the union of so much power in the hands of this brave race as pregnant with danger, and well knew that by dividing he could always rule both, the one through the other. Shah Jahan confirmed the grant to Madho Singh, whose history will be resumed in its proper place, the Annals of Kotah.

Rao Ratan, while he held the government of Burhanpur, founded a township which still bears his name, Ratanpur. He performed another important service [477], which, while it gratified the emperor, contributed greatly to the tranquillity of his ancient lord-paramount, the Rana of Mewar. A refractory noble of the court, Dariyau Khan, was leading a life of riot and rapine in that country, when the Hara attacked, defeated, and carried him captive to the king. For this distinguished exploit, the king gave him honorary naubats, or kettledrums; the grand yellow banner to be borne in state processions before his own person, and a red flag for his camp; which ensigns are still retained by his successors. Rao Ratan obtained the suffrages not only of his Rajput brethren, but of the whole Hindu race, whose religion he preserved from innovation. The Haras exultingly boast that no Muslim dared pollute the quarters where they might be stationed with the blood of the sacred kine. After all his services, Ratan was killed in an action near Burhanpur, leaving a name endeared by his valour and his virtues to the whole Hara race.

Gopināth.

—Rao Ratan left four sons, Gopinath, who had Bundi; Madho Singh, who had Kotah; Hariji, who had Gugor;^[21] Jagannath, who had no issue; and Gopinath, the heir of Bundi, who died before his father. The manner of his death affords 1488another trait of Rajput character, and merits a place amongst those anecdotes which form the romance of history. Gopinath carried on a secret intrigue with the wife of a Brahman of the Baldia class, and in the dead of night used to escalade the house to obtain admittance. At length the Brahman caught him, bound the hands and feet of his treacherous prince, and proceeding direct to the palace, told the Rao he had caught a thief in the act of stealing his honour, and asked what punishment was due to such offence. “Death,” was the reply. He waited for no other, returned home, and with a hammer beat out the victim’s brains, throwing the dead body into the public highway. The tidings flew to Rao Ratan, that the heir of Bundi had been murdered, and his corpse ignominiously exposed; but when he learned the cause, and was reminded of the decree he had unwittingly passed, he submitted in silence.^[22]

The Fiefs of Būndi.

—Gopinath left twelve sons, to whom Rao Ratan assigned domains still forming the principal kothris, or fiefs, of Bundi:

Rāo Chhattarsāl, A.D. 1652-58.

—Chhattarsal, who succeeded his grandfather, Rao Ratan, was not only installed by Shah Jahan in his hereditary dominions, but declared governor of the imperial capital, a post which he held nearly throughout this reign. When Shah Jahan partitioned the empire into four vice-royalties, under his sons, Dara, Aurangzeb, Shuja, and Murad, Rao Chhattarsal had a high command under Aurangzeb, in the Deccan. The Hara distinguished himself by his bravery and conduct in all the various sieges and actions, especially at the assaults of Daulatabad and Bidar; the last was led by Chhattarsal in person, who carried the place, and put the garrison to the sword. In S. 1709 (A.D. 1653), Kulbarga fell after an obstinate defence, in which Chhattarsal again led the escalade. The last resort was the strong fort of Damauni, which terminated all resistance, and the Deccan was tranquillized.^[25]

Death of Shāh Jahān. War of Succession.

—“At this period of the transactions in the south, a rumour was propagated of the emperor’s (Shah Jahan) death; and as during twenty days the prince (Aurangzeb) held no court, and did not even give private audience, the report obtained general belief.^[26] Dara Shikoh was the only one of the emperor’s sons then at court, and the absent brothers determined to assert their several pretensions to the throne. While Shuja marched from Bengal, Aurangzeb prepared to quit the Deccan, and cajoled Murad to join him with all his 1490forces; assuring him that he, a darvesh from principle, had no worldly desires, for his only wish was to dwell in retirement [479], practising the austerities of a rigid follower of the Prophet; that Dara was an infidel, Shuja a free-thinker, himself an anchorite; and that he, Murad, alone of the sons of Shah Jahan, was worthy to exercise dominion, to aid in which purpose he proffered his best energies.^[27]

“The emperor, learning the hostile intentions of Aurangzeb, wrote privately to the Hara prince to repair to the Presence. On receiving the mandate, Chhattarsal revolved its import, but considering “that, as a servant of the gaddi (throne), his only duty was obedience,” he instantly commenced his preparations to quit the Deccan. This reaching the ear of Aurangzeb, he inquired the cause of his hasty departure, observing, that in a very short time he might accompany him to court. The Bundi prince replied, “his first duty was to the reigning sovereign,” and handed him the farman or summons to the Presence. Aurangzeb commanded that he should not be permitted to depart, and directed his encampment to be surrounded. But Chhattarsal, foreseeing this, had already sent on his baggage, and forming his vassals and those of other Rajput princes attached to the royal cause into one compact mass, they effected their retreat to the Nerbudda in the face of their pursuers, without their daring to attack them. By the aid of some Solanki chieftains inhabiting the banks of this river, the Bundi Rao was enabled to pass this dangerous stream, then swollen by the periodical rains. Already baffled by the skill and intrepidity of Chhattarsal, Aurangzeb was compelled to give up the pursuit, and the former reached Bundi in safety. Having made his domestic arrangements, he proceeded forthwith to the capital, to help the aged emperor, whose power, and even existence, were alike threatened by the ungrateful pretensions of his sons to snatch the sceptre from the hand which still held it.”

If a reflection might be here interposed on the bloody wars which desolated India in consequence of the events of which the foregoing were the initial scenes, it would be to expose the moral retribution resulting from evil example. Were we to take but a partial view of the picture, we should depict the venerable Shah 1491Jahan, arrived at the verge of the grave, into which the unnatural contest of his sons for empire wished to precipitate him, extending his arms for succour in vain to the nobles of his own faith and kin; while the Rajput, faithful to his principle, ‘allegiance to the throne,’ staked both life and land to help him in his need. Such a picture would enlist all our sympathies on the side of the helpless king. But when we recall the past, and consider that [480] Shah Jahan, as Prince Khurram, played the same part (setting aside the mask of hypocrisy), which Aurangzeb now attempted; that, to forward his guilty design, he murdered his brother Parvez,^[28] who stood between him and the throne of his parent, against whom he levied war, our sympathies are checked, and we conclude that unlimited monarchy is a curse to itself and all who are subjected to it.

The battle of Fatehabad followed not long after this event,^[29] which, gained by Aurangzeb, left the road to the throne free from obstruction. We are not informed of the reason why the prince of Bundi did not add his contingent to the force assembled to oppose Aurangzeb under Jaswant Singh of Marwar, unless it be found in that article of the treaty of Rao Surjan, prohibiting his successors from serving under a leader of their own faith and nation. The younger branch of Kotah appears, on its separation from Bundi, to have felt itself exonerated from obedience to this decree; for four royal brothers of Kotah, with many of their clansmen, were stretched on this field in the cause of swamidharma and Shah Jahan. Before, however, Aurangzeb could tear the sceptre from the enfeebled hands of his parent, he had to combat his elder brother Dara, who drew together at Dholpur all those who yet regarded ‘the first duty of a Rajput.’ The Bundi prince, with his Haras clad in their saffron robes, the ensigns of death or victory, formed the vanguard of Dara on this day, the opening scene of his sorrows, which closed but with his life; for Dholpur was as fatal to Dara the Mogul, as Arbela was to the Persian Darius. Custom rendered it indispensable that the princely leaders should be conspicuous to the host, and in conformity thereto Dara, mounted on his elephant, was in the brunt of the battle, in the heat of which, when valour and fidelity might have preserved the sceptre of Shah Jahan, Dara suddenly disappeared. 1492A panic ensued, which was followed by confusion and flight. The noble Hara, on this disastrous event, turned to his vassals, and exclaimed, “Accursed be he who flies! Here, true to my salt, my feet are rooted to this field, nor will I quit it alive, but with victory.” Cheering on his men, he mounted his elephant, but whilst encouraging them by his voice and example, a cannon-shot hitting his elephant, the animal turned and fled. Chhattarsal leaped from his back and called for his steed, exclaiming, “My elephant may turn his back on the enemy, but never shall his master.” Mounting his horse, and forming his men into a dense mass (gol), he led them to the charge against Prince Murad, whom he singled out, and had his lance balanced for the issue, when a ball pierced his forehead.^[30] The contest was nobly maintained by his youngest son, Bharat Singh, who accompanied his father in death [481], and with him the choicest of his clan. Mohkam Singh, brother of the Rao, with two of his sons, and Udai Singh, another nephew, sealed their fidelity with their lives. Thus in the two battles of Ujjain and Dholpur no less than twelve princes of the blood, together with the heads of every Hara clan, maintained their fealty (swamidharma) even to death. Where are we to look for such examples?

“Rao Chhattarsal had been personally engaged in fifty-two combats, and left a name renowned for courage and incorruptible fidelity.” He enlarged the palace of Bundi by adding that portion which bears his name,—the Chhattar Mahall,—and the temple of Keshorai, at Patan, was constructed under his direction.^[31] It was in S. 1715 he was killed; he left four sons, Rao Bhao Singh, Bhim Singh, who got Gugorha, Bhagwant Singh, who obtained Mau, and Bharat Singh, who was killed at Dholpur.

Rāo Bhāo Singh, A.D. 1658-78. Mughal Attack on Būndi.

—Aurangzeb, on the attainment of sovereign power, transferred all the resentment he harboured against Chhattarsal to his son and successor, Rao Bhao. He gave a commission to Raja Atmaram, Gaur, the prince of Sheopur, to reduce “that turbulent and disaffected race, the Hara,” and annex Bundi to the government of 1493Ranthambhor, declaring that he should visit Bundi shortly in person, on his way to the Deccan, and hoped to congratulate him on his success. Raja Atmaram, with an army of twelve thousand men, entered Haravati and ravaged it with fire and sword. Having laid siege to Khatoli, a town of Indargarh, the chief fief of Bundi,^[32] the clans secretly assembled, engaged Atmaram at Gotarda, defeated and put him to flight, capturing the imperial ensigns and all his baggage. Not satisfied with this, they retaliated by blockading Sheopur, when the discomfited Raja continued his flight to court to relate this fresh instance of Hara audacity. The poor prince of the Gaurs was received with gibes and jests, and heartily repented of his inhuman inroads upon his neighbours in the day of their disgrace. The tyrant, affecting to be pleased with this instance of Hara courage, sent a farman to Rao Bhao of grace and free pardon, and commanding his presence at court. At first the Rao declined; but having repeated pledges of good intention, he complied and was honoured with the government of Aurangabad under Prince Muazzam. Here he evinced his independence by shielding Raja Karan of Bikaner from a plot against his life. He performed many gallant deeds with his Rajput brethren in arms, the brave Bundelas of Orchha and Datia. He erected many public edifices at Aurangabad, where he acquired so much fame by his valour, his charities, and the sanctity ^[33] of his manners, that miraculous cures were (said to be) effected by him. He [482] died at Aurangabad in S. 1738 (A.D. 1682),^[34] and, being without issue, was succeeded by Aniruddh Singh, the grandson of his brother Bhim.^[35]

Rāo Aniruddh Singh, A.D. 1678.

—Aniruddh’s accession was confirmed by the emperor, who, in order to testify the esteem in which he held his predecessor, sent his own elephant, Gajgaur, with the khilat of investiture. Aniruddh accompanied Aurangzeb in his wars in the Deccan, and on one occasion performed the 1494important service of rescuing the ladies of the harem out of the enemy’s hands. The emperor, in testimony of his gallantry, told him to name his reward; on which he requested he might be allowed to command the vanguard instead of the rearguard of the army. Subsequently, he was distinguished in the siege and storm of Bijapur.

An unfortunate quarrel with Durjan Singh, the chief vassal of Bundi, involved the Rao in trouble. Making use of some improper expression, the Rao resentfully replied, “I know what to expect from you”; which determined Durjan to throw his allegiance to the dogs. He quitted the army, and arriving at his estates, armed his kinsmen, and, by a coup de main, possessed himself of Bundi. On learning this, the emperor detached Aniruddh with a force which expelled the refractory Durjan, whose estates were sequestrated. Previous to his expulsion, Durjan drew the tika of succession on the forehead of his brother of Balwan. Having settled the affairs of Bundi, the Rao was employed, in conjunction with Raja Bishan Singh of Amber, to settle the northern countries of the empire, governed by Shah Alam, as lieutenant of the king, and whose headquarters were at Lahore, in the execution of which service he died.

Rāo Budh Singh. The Death of Aurangzeb.

—Aniruddh left two sons, Budh Singh and Jodh Singh. Budh Singh succeeded to the honours and employments of his father. Soon after, Aurangzeb, who had fixed his residence at Aurangabad, fell ill, and finding his end approach, the nobles and officers of state, in apprehension of the event, requested him to name a successor. The dying emperor replied, that the succession was in the hands of God, with whose will and under whose decree he was desirous that his son Bahadur Shah Alam should succeed; but that he was apprehensive that Prince Azam would endeavour by force of arms to seat himself on the throne.^[36] As the king said, so it happened; Azam Shah, being supported in his pretensions by the army of the Deccan, prepared to dispute [483] the empire with his elder brother, to whom he sent a formal defiance to decide their claims to empire on the plains of Dholpur. Bahadur Shah convened all the chieftains who favoured his cause, and explained his position. Amongst them was Rao Budh, now entering on 1495manhood, and he was at that moment in deep affliction for the untimely loss of his brother, Jodh Singh.^[37] When the king desired him to repair to Bundi to perform the offices of mourning, and console his relations and kindred, Budh Singh replied, “It is not to Bundi my duty calls me, but to attend my sovereign in the field—to that of Dholpur, renowned for many battles and consecrated by the memory of the heroes who have fallen in the performance of their duty”: adding “that there his heroic ancestor Chhattarsal fell, whose fame he desired to emulate, and by the blessing of heaven, his arms should be crowned with victory to the empire.”

Battle of Jājau, June 10, 1707.

—Shah Alam advanced from Lahore, and Azam, with his son Bedar Bakht, from the Deccan; and both armies met on the plains of Jajau, near Dholpur. A more desperate conflict was never recorded in the many bloody pages of the history of India. Had it been a common contest for supremacy, to be decided by the Muslim supporters of the rivals, it would have ended like similar ones,—a furious onset, terminated by a treacherous desertion. But here were assembled the brave bands of Rajputana, house opposed to house, and clan against clan. The princes of Datia and Kotah, who had long served with Prince Azam, and were attached to him by favours, forgot the injunctions of Aurangzeb, and supported that prince’s pretensions against the lawful heir. A powerful friendship united the chiefs of Bundi and Datia, whose lives exhibited one scene of glorious triumph in all the wars of the Deccan. In opposing the cause of Shah Alam, Ram Singh of Kotah was actuated by his ambition to become the head of the Haras, and in anticipation of success had actually been invested with the honours of Bundi. With such stimulants on each side did the rival Haras meet face to face on the plains of Jajau, to decide at the same time the pretensions to empire, and what affected them more, those of their respective heads to superiority. Previous to the battle, Ram Singh sent a perfidious message to Rao Budh, inviting him to desert the cause he espoused, and come over to Azam; to which he indignantly replied: “That the field which his ancestor had illustrated by his death, was not that whereon he would disgrace his memory by the desertion of his prince.”

Budh Singh was assigned a distinguished post, and by his 1496conduct and courage [484] mainly contributed to the victory which placed Bahadur Shah without a rival on the throne. The Rajputs on either side sustained the chief shock of the battle, and the Hara prince of Kotah, and the noble Bundela, Dalpat of Datia, were both killed by cannon-shot, sacrificed to the cause they espoused; while the pretensions of Azam and his son Bedar Bakht were extinguished with their lives.

For the signal services rendered on this important day, Budh Singh was honoured with the title of Rao Raja, and was admitted to the intimate friendship of the emperor, which he continued to enjoy until his death, when fresh contentions arose, in which the grandsons of Aurangzeb all perished. Farrukhsiyar succeeded to the empire, under whom the Sayyids of Barha held supreme power, and ruined the empire by their exactions and tyranny. When they determined to depose the king, the Hara prince, faithful to his pledge, determined to release him, and in the attempt a bloody conflict ensued in the (chauk) square, in which his uncle Jeth Singh, and many of his clansmen, were slain.

Rivalry between Kotah and Būndi.

—The rivalry which commenced between the houses of Kotah and Bundi, on the plains of Jajau, in which Ram Singh was slain, was maintained by his son and successor, Raja Bhim, who supported the party of the Sayyids. In the prosecution of his views and revenge, Raja Bhim so far lost sight of the national character of the Rajput, as to compass his end by treachery, and beset his foe unawares while exercising his horse in the Maidan, outside the walls of the capital. His few retainers formed a circle round their chief, and gallantly defended him, though with great loss, until they reached a place of safety. Unable to aid the king, and beset by treachery, Rao Budh was compelled to seek his own safety in flight.^[38] Farrukhsiyar was shortly after murdered, and the empire fell into complete disorder; when the nobles and Rajas, feeling their insecurity under the bloody and rapacious domination of the Sayyids, repaired to their several possessions.^[39]

1497

Jai Singh of Jaipur attacks Būndi.

—At this period, Raja Jai Singh of Amber thought of dispossessing Budh Singh of Bundi. Rao Budh Singh was at this time his guest, having accompanied him from court to Amber. The cause of the quarrel is thus related: The Hara prince was married to a sister of Jai Singh; she had been betrothed to the emperor Bahadur [485] Shah, who, as one of the marks of his favour for the victory of Dholpur, resigned his pretensions to the fair in favour of Rao Budh. Unfortunately, she bore him no issue, and viewed with jealousy his two infant sons by another Rani, the daughter of Kalamegh of Begun, one of the sixteen chiefs of Mewar. During her lord’s absence, she feigned pregnancy, and having procured an infant, presented it as his lawful child. Rao Budh was made acquainted with the equivocal conduct of his queen, to the danger of his proper offspring, and took an opportunity to reveal her conduct to her brother. The lady, who was present, was instantly interrogated by her brother; but, exasperated either at the suspicion of her honour or the discovery of her fraud, she snatched her brother’s dagger from his girdle, and rating him as “the son of a tailor,”^[40] would have slain him on the spot, had he not fled from her fury.

To revenge the insult thus put upon him, the Raja of Amber determined to expel Rao Budh from Bundi, and offered the gaddi to the chief of its feudatories, the lord of Indargarh; but Deo Singh had the virtue to refuse the offer. He then had recourse to the chieftain of Karwar,^[41] who could not resist the temptation. This chief, Salim Singh, was guilty of a double breach of trust; for he held the confidential office of governor of Taragarh, the citadel commanding both the city and palace.

The family dispute was, however, merely the underplot of a deeply-cherished political scheme of the prince of Amber, for the maintenance of his supremacy over the minor Rajas, to which his office of viceroy of Malwa, Ajmer, and Agra gave full scope, and he skilfully availed himself of the results of the civil wars of 1498the Moguls. In the issue of Farrukhsiyar’s dethronement he saw the fruition of his schemes, and after a show of defending him, retired to his dominions to prosecute his views.

Amber was yet circumscribed in territory, and the consequence of its princes arose out of their position as satraps of the empire. He therefore determined to seize upon all the districts on his frontiers within his grasp, and moreover to compel the services of the chieftains who served under his banner as lieutenants of the king.

At this period there were many allodial chieftains within the bounds of Amber; as the Pachwana Chauhans about Lalsont, Gura, Nimrana, who owed neither service nor tribute to Jaipur, but led their quotas as distinct dignitaries of the empire under the flag of Amber. Even their own stock, the confederated Shaikhawats, deemed [486] themselves under no such obligation. The Bargujars of Rajor, the Jadons of Bayana, and many others, the vassalage of older days, were in the same predicament. These, being in the decline of the empire unable to protect themselves, the more readily agreed to hold their ancient allodial estates as fiefs of Amber, and to serve with the stipulated quota. But when Jai Singh’s views led him to hope he could in like manner bring the Haras to acknowledge his supremacy, he evinced both ignorance and presumption. He therefore determined to dethrone Budh Singh, and to make a Raja of his own choice hold of him in chief.

The Hara, who was then reposing on the rites of hospitality and family ties at Amber, gave Jai Singh a good opportunity to develop his views, which were first manifested to the Bundi prince by an obscure offer that he would make Amber his abode, and accept five hundred rupees daily for his train. His uncle, the brother of Jeth, who devoted himself to save his master at Agra, penetrated the infamous intentions of Jai Singh. He wrote to Bundi, and commanded that the Begun Rani should depart with her children to her father’s; and having given time for this, he by stealth formed his clansmen outside the walls of Amber, and having warned his prince of his danger, they quitted the treacherous abode. Raja Budh, at the head of three hundred Haras, feared nothing. He made direct for his capital, but they were overtaken at Pancholas, on the mutual frontier, by the select army under the five principal chieftains of Amber. The little 1499band was enclosed, when a desperate encounter ensued, Rajput to Rajput. Every one of the five leaders of Amber was slain, with a multitude of their vassals; and the cenotaphs of the lords of Isarda, Sarwar, and Bhawar still afford evidence of Hara revenge. The uncle of Bundi was slain, and the valiant band was so thinned, that it was deemed unwise to go to Bundi, and by the intricacies of the Plateau they reached Begun in safety. This dear-bought success enabled Jai Singh to execute his plan, and Dalil Singh, of Karwar, espoused the daughter of Amber, and was invested with the title of Rao Raja of Bundi.

Taking advantage of the distress of the elder branch of his house, Raja Bhim of Kotah, now strictly allied with Ajit of Marwar and the Sayyids, prosecuted the old feud for superiority, making the Chambal the boundary, and seizing upon all the fiscal lands of Bundi east of this stream (excepting the Kothris), which he attached to Kotah.

Death of Rāo Būdh Singh.

—Thus beset by enemies on all sides, Budh Singh, after many fruitless attempts to [487] recover his patrimony, in which much Hara blood was uselessly shed, died in exile at Begun, leaving two sons, Ummed Singh and Dip Singh.

The sons of Rao Budh were soon driven even from the shelter of the maternal abode; for, at the instigation of their enemy of Amber, the Rana sequestrated Begun. Pursued by this unmanly vengeance, the brave youths collected a small band, and took refuge in the wilds of Pachel, whence they addressed Durjansal, who had succeeded Raja Bhim at Kotah. This prince had a heart to commiserate their misfortunes, and the magnanimity not only to relieve them, but to aid them in the recovery of their patrimony.

23. These, the three great fiefs of Bundi,—Indargarh, Balwan, and Antardah,—are now all alienated from Bundi by the intrigues of Zalim Singh of Kotah. It was unfortunate for the Bundi Rao, when both these States were admitted to an alliance, that all these historical points were hid in darkness. It would be yet abstract and absolute justice that we should negotiate the transfer of the allegiance of these chieftains to their proper head of Bundi. It would be a matter of little difficulty, and the honour would be immense to Bundi and no hardship to Kotah, but a slight sacrifice of a power of protection to those who no longer require it. All of these chiefs were the founders of clans, called after them, Indarsalot, Berisalot, Mohkamsinghot; the first can muster fifteen hundred Haras under arms. Jaipur having imposed a tribute on these chieftains, Zalim Singh undertook, in the days of predatory warfare, to be responsible for it; for which he received that homage and service due to Bundi, then unable to protect them. The simplest mode of doing justice would be to make these chiefs redeem their freedom from tribute to Jaipur, by the payment of so many years’ purchase, which would relieve them altogether from Zalim Singh, and at the same time be in accordance with our treaties, which prohibit such ties between the States.

CHAPTER 4

Mahārāo Ummed Singh, A.D. 1743-1804.

—Ummeda was but thirteen years of age on the death of his house’s foe, the Raja of Amber, in S. 1800 (A.D. 1744). As soon as the event was known to him, putting himself at the head of his clansmen, he attacked and carried Patan and Gainoli.^[1] “When it was heard that the 1500son of Budh Singh was awake, the ancient Haras flocked to his standard,” and Durjansal of Kotah, rejoicing to see the real Hara blood thus displayed, nobly sent his aid.

Jaipur attacks Kotah.

—Isari Singh, who was now lord of Amber, pursuing his father’s policy, determined that Kotah should bend to his supremacy as well as the elder branch of Bundi. The defiance of his power avowed in the support of young Ummeda brought his views into [488] action, and Kotah was invested. But the result does not belong to this part of our history. On the retreat from Kotah, Isari sent a body of Nanakpanthis ^[2] to attack Ummeda in his retreat at Burh (old) Lohari, amongst the Minas, the aboriginal lords of these mountain-wilds, who had often served the cause of the Haras, notwithstanding they had deprived them of their birthright. The youthful valour and distress of young Ummeda so gained their hearts, that five thousand bowmen assembled and desired to be led against his enemies. With these auxiliaries, he anticipated his foes at Bichori, and while the nimble mountaineers plundered the camp, Ummeda charged the Jaipur army sword in hand, and slaughtered them without mercy, taking their kettledrums and standards. On the news of this defeat, another army of eighteen thousand men, under Narayandas Khatri, was sent against Ummeda. But the affair of Bichori confirmed the dispositions of the Haras: from all quarters they flocked to the standard of the young prince, who determined to risk everything in a general engagement. The foe had reached Dablana.^[3] On the eve of attack, young Ummeda went to propitiate ‘the lady of Situn,’^[4] the tutelary divinity of his race; and as he knelt before the altar of Asapurna (the fulfiller of hope), his eyes falling upon the turrets of Bundi, then held by a traitor, he swore to conquer or die.

Battle of Dablāna.

—Inspired with like sentiments, his brave clansmen formed around the orange flag, the gift of Jahangir to Rao Ratan; and as they cleared the pass leading to Dablana, the foe was discovered marshalled to receive them. In one of those compact masses, termed gol, with serried lances advanced, 1501Ummeda led his Haras to the charge. Its physical and moral impression was irresistible; and a vista was cut through the dense host opposed to them. Again they formed; and again, in spite of the showers of cannon-shot, the sword renewed its blows; but every charge was fatal to the bravest of Ummeda’s men. In the first onset fell his maternal uncle, Prithi Singh, Solanki, with the Maharaja Marjad Singh of Motra, a valiant Hara, who fell just as he launched his chakra (discus) at the head of the Khatri commander of Amber. Prayag Singh, chief of Soran, a branch of the Thana fief, was also slain, with many of inferior note. The steed of Ummeda was struck by a cannon-ball, and the intestines protruded from the wound. The intrepidity of the youthful hero, nobly seconded by his kin and clan, was unavailing; and the chieftains, fearing he would throw away a life the preservation of which they all desired, entreated he would abandon the contest; observing, “that if he survived, Bundi must be theirs; but if he was slain, there was an end of all their hopes [489].”

With grief he submitted; and as they gained the Sawali Pass, which leads to Indargarh, he dismounted to breathe his faithful steed; and as he loosened the girths, it expired. Ummeda sat down and wept. Hanja was worthy of such a mark of his esteem: he was a steed of Irak, the gift of the king to his father, whom he had borne in many an encounter. Nor was this natural ebullition of the young Hara a transient feeling: Hanja’s memory was held in veneration, and the first act of Ummeda, when he recovered his throne, was to erect a statue to the steed who bore him so nobly on the day of Dablana. It stands in the square (chauk) of the city, and receives the reverence of each Hara, who links his history with one of the brightest of their achievements, though obscured by momentary defeat.^[5]

Ummeda gained Indargarh, which was close at hand, on foot; but this traitor to the name of Hara, who had acknowledged the supremacy of Amber, not only refused his prince a horse in his adversity, but warned him off the domain, asking “if he meant to be the ruin of Indargarh as well as Bundi?” Disdaining to drink water within its bounds, the young prince, stung by this perfidious mark of inhospitality, took the direction of Karwain. 1502Its chief made amends for the other’s churlishness: he advanced to meet him, offered such aid as he had to give, and presented him with a horse. Dismissing his faithful kinsmen to their homes, and begging their swords when fortune might be kinder, he regained his old retreat, the ruined palace of Rampura, amongst the ravines of the Chambal.

Būndi recovered by Ummed Singh.

—Durjansal of Kotah, who had so bravely defended his capital against the pretensions to supremacy of Isari Singh and his auxiliary, Apa Sindhia, felt more interest than ever in the cause of Ummeda. The Kotah prince’s councils were governed and his armies led by a Bhat (bard), who, it may be inferred, was professionally inspired by the heroism of the young Hara to lend his sword as well as his muse towards reinstating him in the halls of his fathers. Accordingly, all the strength of Kotah, led by the Bhat, was added to the kinsmen and friends of Ummeda; and an attempt on Bundi was resolved. The city, whose walls were in a state of dilapidation from this continual warfare, was taken without difficulty; and the assault of the citadel of Taragarh had commenced, when the heroic Bhat received a fatal shot from a treacherous hand in his own party. His death was concealed, and a cloth thrown [490] over his body. The assailants pressed on; the usurper, alarmed, took to flight; the ‘lion’s hope’^[6] was fulfilled, and Ummeda was seated on the throne of his fathers.

Būndi occupied by Jaipur.

—Dalil fled to his suzerain at Amber, whose disposable forces, under the famous Khatri Keshodas, were immediately put in motion to re-expel the Hara. Bundi was invested, and having had no time given to prepare for defence, Ummeda was compelled to abandon the walls so nobly won, and “the flag of Dhundhar waved over the kunguras (battlements) of Dewa-Banga.” And let the redeeming virtue of the usurper be recorded; who, when his suzerain of Amber desired to reinstate him on the gaddi, refused “to bring a second time the stain of treason on his head, by which he had been disgraced in the opinion of mankind.”

Ummed Singh in Exile.

—Ummeda, once more a wanderer, alternately courting the aid of Mewar and Marwar, never suspended his hostility to the usurper of his rights, but carried his incursions, without intermission, into his paternal domains. One 1503of these led him to the village of Banodia: hither the Kachhwaha Rani, the widowed queen of his father, and the cause of all their miseries, had retired, disgusted with herself and the world, and lamenting, when too late, the ruin she had brought upon her husband, herself, and the family she had entered. Ummeda paid her a visit, and the interview added fresh pangs to her self-reproach. His sufferings, his heroism, brightened by adversity, originating with her nefarious desire to stifle his claims of primogeniture by a spurious adoption, awakened sentiments of remorse, of sympathy, and sorrow. Determined to make some amends, she adopted the resolution of going to the Deccan, to solicit aid for the son of Budh Singh. When she arrived on the banks of the Nerbudda a pillar was pointed out to her on which was inscribed a prohibition to any of her race to cross this stream, which like the Indus was also styled atak, or ‘forbidden.’^[7] Like a true Rajputni, she broke the tablet in pieces, and threw it into the stream, observing with a jesuitical casuistry, that there was no longer any impediment when no ordinance existed. Having passed the Rubicon, she proceeded forthwith to the camp of Malhar Rao Holkar. The sister of Jai Singh, the most potent Hindu prince of India, became a suppliant to this goatherd leader ^[8] of a horde of plunderers, nay, adopted him as her brother to effect the redemption of Bundi for the exiled Ummeda.

Malhār Rāo Holkar assists Ummed Singh.

—Malhar, without the accident of noble birth, possessed the sentiments which belong to it, and he promised all she asked. How far his compliance might be promoted by [491] another call for his lance from the Rana of Mewar, in virtue of the marriage-settlement which promised the succession of Amber to a princess of his house, the Bundi records do not tell: they refer only to the prospects of its own prince. But we may, without any reflection on the gallantry of Holkar, express a doubt how far he would have lent the aid of his horde to this sole object, had he not had in view the splendid bribe of sixty-four lakhs from the Rana, to be paid when Isari Singh should be removed, for his nephew Madho Singh.^[9]

1504Be this as it may, the Bundi chronicle states that the lady, instead of the temporary expedient of delivering Bundi, conducted the march of the Mahrattas direct on Jaipur. Circumstances favoured her designs. The character of Isari Singh had raised up enemies about his person, who seized the occasion to forward at once the views of Bundi and Mewar, whose princes had secretly gained them over to their views.

The Amber prince no sooner heard of the approach of the Mahrattas to his capital than he quitted it to offer them battle. But their strength had been misrepresented, nor was it till he reached the castle of Bagru ^[10] that he was undeceived and surrounded. When too late, he saw that ‘treason had done its worst,’ and that the confidence he had placed in the successor of a minister whom he had murdered, met its natural reward. The bard has transmitted in a sloka the cause of his overthrow:

‘Isari forfeited all hopes of regality, when he slew that great minister Keshodas.’

Jaipur forced to restore Ummed Singh.

—The sons of this minister, named Harsahai and Gursahai, betrayed their prince to the ‘Southron,’ by a false return of their numbers, and led him to the attack with means totally inadequate. Resistance to a vast numerical superiority would have been madness: he retreated to the castle of this fief of Amber, where, after a siege of ten days, he was forced not only to sign a deed for the surrender of Bundi, and the renunciation of all claims to it for himself and his descendants, but to put, in full acknowledgment of his rights, the tika on the forehead of Ummeda. With this deed, and accompanied by the contingent of Kotah, they proceeded to Bundi; the traitor was expelled; and while rejoicings were making to celebrate the installation of Ummeda, the funereal pyre was lighted at Amber, to consume the mortal remains of his foe. Raja Isari could [492] not survive his disgrace, and terminated his existence and hostility by poison, thereby facilitating the designs both of Bundi and Mewar.

1505Thus in S. 1805 (A.D. 1749) Ummeda regained his patrimony, after fourteen years of exile, during which a traitor had pressed the royal ‘cushion’ of Bundi. But this contest deprived it of many of its ornaments, and, combined with other causes, at length reduced it almost to its intrinsic worth, ‘a heap of cotton.’ Malhar Rao, the founder of the Holkar State, in virtue of his adoption as the brother of the widow-queen of Budh Singh, had the title of Mamu, or uncle, to young Ummeda. But true to the maxims of his race, he did not take his buckler to protect the oppressed, at the impulse of those chivalrous notions so familiar to the Rajput, but deemed a portion of the Bundi territory a better incentive, and a more unequivocal proof of gratitude, than the titles of brother and uncle. Accordingly, he demanded, and obtained by regular deed of surrender, the town and district of Patan on the left bank of the Chambal.^[11]

The sole equivalent (if such it could be termed) for these fourteen years of usurpation, were the fortifications covering the palace and town, now called Taragarh (the ‘Star-fort’), built by Dalil Singh. Madho Singh, who succeeded to the gaddi of Jaipur, followed up the designs commenced by Jai Singh, and which had cost his successor his life, to render the smaller States of Central India dependent on Amber. For this Kotah had been besieged, and Ummeda expelled, and as such policy could not be effected by their unassisted means, it only tended to the benefit of the auxiliaries, who soon became principals, to the prejudice and detriment of all. Madho Singh, having obtained the castle of Ranthambhor, a pretext was afforded for these pretensions to supremacy. From the time of its surrender by Rao Surjan to Akbar, the importance of this castle was established by its becoming the first Sarkar, or ‘department,’ in the province of Ajmer, consisting of no less than ‘seventy-three mahals,’^[12] or 1506extensive fiefs, in which were comprehended not only Bundi and Kotah, and all their dependencies, but the entire State of Sheopur, and all the petty fiefs south of the Banganga, the aggregate of which now constitutes the State of Amber. In fact, with the exception of Mahmudabad in Bengal,^[13] Ranthambhor was the most extensive Sarkar of the empire. In the decrepitude of the empire, this castle was maintained by a veteran commander [493] as long as funds and provisions lasted; but these failing, in order to secure it from falling into the hands of the Mahrattas, and thus being lost for ever to the throne, he sought out a Rajput prince, to whom he might entrust it. He applied to Bundi; but the Hara, dreading to compromise his fealty if unable to maintain it, refused the boon; and having no alternative, he resigned it to the prince of Amber as a trust which he could no longer defend.

Out of this circumstance alone originated the claims of Jaipur to tribute from the Kothris, or fiefs in Haraoti; claims without a shadow of justice; but the maintenance of which, for the sake of the display of supremacy and paltry annual relief, has nourished half a century of irritation, which it is high time should cease.^[14]

Zālim Singh of Kotah.

—It was the assertion of this supremacy over Kotah as well as Bundi which first brought into notice the most celebrated Rajput of modern times, Zalim Singh of Kotah. Rao Durjansal, who then ruled that State, had too much of the Hara blood to endure such pretensions as the casual possession of Ranthambhor conferred upon his brother prince of Amber, who 1507considered that, as the late lieutenant of the king, he had a right to transfer his powers to himself. The battle of Bhatwara, in S. 1817 (A.D. 1761), for ever extinguished these pretensions, on which occasion Zalim Singh, then scarcely of age, mainly contributed to secure the independence of the State he was ultimately destined to govern. But this exploit belongs to the annals of Kotah, and would not have been here alluded to, except to remark, that had the Bundi army joined Kotah in this common cause, they would have redeemed its fiefs from the tribute they are still compelled to pay to Jaipur.

Ummeda’s active mind was engrossed with the restoration of the prosperity which the unexampled vicissitudes of the last fifteen years had undermined; but he felt his spirit cramped and his energies contracted by the dominant influence and avarice of the insatiable Mahrattas, through whose means he recovered his capital; still there was as yet no fixed principle of government recognized, and the Rajputs, who [494] witnessed their periodical visitations like flights of locusts over their plains, hoped that this scourge would be equally transitory. Under this great and pernicious error, all the Rajput States continued to mix these interlopers in their national disputes, which none had more cause to repent than the Haras of Bundi. But the hold which the Mahrattas retained upon the lands of ‘Dewa Banga’ would never have acquired such tenacity, had the bold arm and sage mind of Ummeda continued to guide the vessel of the State throughout the lengthened period of his natural existence: his premature political decease adds another example to the truth, that patriarchal, and indeed all governments are imperfect where the laws are not supreme.

Ummed Singh’s Revenge on Indargarh.

—An act of revenge stained the reputation of Ummeda, naturally virtuous, and but for which deed we should have to paint him as one of the bravest, wisest, and most faultless characters which Rajput history has recorded. Eight years had elapsed since the recovery of his dominions, and we have a right to infer that his wrongs and their authors had been forgotten, or rather forgiven, for human nature can scarcely forget so treacherous an act as that of his vassal of Indargarh, on the defeat of Dablana. As so long a time had passed since the restoration without the penalty of his treason being exacted, it might have been concluded that the natural 1508generosity of this high-minded prince had co-operated with a wise policy, in passing over the wrong without forgoing his right to avenge it. The degenerate Rajput, who could at such a moment witness the necessities of his prince and refuse to relieve them, could never reflect on that hour without self-abhorrence; but his spirit was too base to offer reparation by a future life of duty; he cursed the magnanimity of the man he had injured; hated him for his very forbearance, and aggravated the part he had acted by fresh injuries, and on a point too delicate to admit of being overlooked. Ummeda had ‘sent the coco-nut,’ the symbol of matrimonial alliance, to Madho Singh, in the name of his sister. It was received in a full assembly of all the nobles of the court, and with the respect due to one of the most illustrious races of Rajputana. Deo Singh of Indargarh was at that time on a visit at Jaipur, and the compliment was paid him by the Raja of asking “what fame said of the daughter of Budh Singh?” It is not impossible that he might have sought this opportunity of further betraying his prince; for his reply was an insulting innuendo, leading to doubts as to the purity of her blood. That it was grossly false, was soon proved by the solicitation of her hand by Raja Bijai Singh of Marwar. “The coco-nut was returned to Bundi,”—an insult never to be forgiven by a Rajput [495].

In S. 1813 (A.D. 1757), Ummeda went to pay his devotions at the shrine of Bijaiseni Mata (‘the mother of victory’), near Karwar.^[15] Being in the vicinity of Indargarh, he invited its chief to join the assembled vassals with their families; and though dissuaded, Deo Singh obeyed, accompanied by his son and grandson. All were cut off at one fell swoop, and the line of the traitor was extinct: as if the air of heaven should not be contaminated by the smoke of their ashes, Ummeda commanded that the bodies of the calumnious traitor and his issue should be thrown into the lake. His fief of Indargarh was given to his brother, between whom and the present incumbent four generations have passed away.

Fifteen years elapsed, during which the continual scenes of disorder around him furnished ample occupation for his thoughts. Yet, in the midst of all, would intrude the remembrance of this 1509single act, in which he had usurped the powers of Him to whom alone it belongs to execute vengeance. Though no voice was lifted up against the deed, though he had a moral conviction that a traitor’s death was the due of Deo Singh, his soul, generous as it was brave, revolted at the crime, however sanctified by custom,^[16] which confounds the innocent with the guilty. To appease his conscience, he determined to abdicate the throne, and pass the rest of his days in penitential rites, and traversing, in the pilgrim’s garb, the vast regions of India, to visit the sacred shrines of his faith.

Abdication of Mahārāo Ummed Singh.

—In S. 1827 (A.D. 1771), the imposing ceremony of ‘Jugraj,’ which terminated the political existence of Ummeda, was performed. An image of the prince was made, and a pyre was erected, on which it was consumed. The hair and whiskers of Ajit, his successor, were taken off, and offered to the Manes; lamentation and wailing were heard in the ranwas,^[17] and the twelve days of matam, or ‘mourning,’ were passed as if Ummeda had really deceased;^[18] on the expiration of which, the installation of his successor took place, when Ajit Singh was proclaimed prince of the Haras of Bundi.

The abdicated Ummeda, with the title of Sriji (by which alone he was henceforth known), retired to that holy spot in the valley sanctified by the miraculous cure of the first ‘lord of the Patar,’^[19] and which was named after one of the fountains of the Ganges, Kedarnath. To this spot, hallowed by a multitude of associations, the warlike pilgrim brought

and had the gratification to find these exotics, whether the hardy offspring of the [496] snow-clad Himalaya, or the verge of ocean in the tropic, fructify and flourish amidst the rocks of his native abode. It is curious even to him who is ignorant of the moral 1510vicissitudes which produced it, to see the pine of Tibet, the cane of Malacca, and other exotics, planted by the hand of the princely ascetic, flourishing around his hermitage, in spite of the intense heats of this rock-bound abode.

When Ummeda resigned the sceptre of the Haras, it was from the conviction that a life of meditation alone could yield the consolation, and obtain the forgiveness which he found necessary to his repose. But in assuming the pilgrim’s staff, he did not lay aside any feeling becoming his rank or his birth. There was no pusillanimous prostration of intellect; no puling weakness of bigoted sentiment, but the same lofty mind which redeemed his birthright, accompanied him wherever he bent his steps to seek knowledge in the society of devout and holy men. He had read in the annals of his own and of other States, that “the trappings of royalty were snares to perdition, and that happy was the man who in time threw them aside and made his peace with heaven.” But in obeying, at once, the dictates of conscience and of custom, he felt his mind too much alive to the wonders of creation, to bury himself in the fane of Kanhaiya, or the sacred baths on the Ganges; and he determined to see all those holy places commemorated in the ancient epics of his nation, and the never-ending theme of the wandering devotee. In this determination he was, perhaps, somewhat influenced by that love of adventure in which he had been nurtured, and it was a balm to his mind when he found that arms and religion were not only compatible, but that his pious resolution to force a way through the difficulties which beset the pilgrim’s path, enhanced the merit of his devotion. Accordingly, the royal ascetic went forth on his pilgrimage, not habited in the hermit’s garb, but armed at all points. Even in this there was penance, not ostentation, and he carried or buckled on his person one of every species of offensive or defensive weapon then in use: a load which would oppress any two Rajputs in these degenerate times. He wore a quilted tunic, which would resist a sabre-cut; besides a matchlock, a lance, a sword, a dagger, and their appurtenances of knives, pouches, and priming-horn, he had a battle-axe, a javelin, a tomahawk, a discus, bow and quiver of arrows; and it is affirmed that such was his muscular power, even when threescore and ten years had blanched his beard in wandering to and fro thus accoutred, that he could place the whole of this panoply within his 1511shield, and with one arm not only raise it, but hold it for some seconds extended [497].

The Wanderings of Ummed Singh.

—With a small escort of his gallant clansmen, during a long series of years he traversed every region, from the glacial fountains of the Ganges to the southern promontory of Rameswaram;^[20] and from the hot-wells of Sita in Arakan,^[21] and the Moloch of Orissa,^[22] to the shrine of the Hindu Apollo at ‘the world’s end.’^[23] Within these limits of Hinduism, Ummeda saw every place of holy resort, of curiosity, or of learning; and whenever he revisited his paternal domains, his return was greeted not only by his own tribe, but by every prince and Rajput of Rajwara, who deemed his abode hallowed if the princely pilgrim halted there on his route. He was regarded as an oracle, while the treasures of knowledge which his observation had accumulated, caused his conversation to be courted and every word to be recorded. The admiration paid to him while living cannot be better ascertained than by the reverence manifested by every Hara to his memory. To them his word was a law, and every relic of him continues to be held in veneration. Almost his last journey was to the extremity of his nation, the temples at the Delta of the Indus, and the shrine of the Hindu Cybele, the terrific Agnidevi of Hinglaj, on the shores of Makran, even beyond the Rubicon of the Hindus.^[24] As he returned by Dwarka he was beset by a band of Kabas,^[25] a plundering race infesting these regions. But the veteran, uniting the arm of flesh to that of faith, valiantly defended himself, and gained a complete victory, making prisoner their leader, who, as the price of his ransom, took an oath never again to molest the pilgrims to Dwarka.

The warlike pilgrimage of Ummeda had been interrupted by a tragical occurrence, which occasioned the death of his son, and compelled him to abide for a time at the seat of government to superintend the education of his grandchild. This eventful 1512catastrophe, interwoven in the border history of Mewar and Haraoti, is well worthy of narration, as illustrative of manners and belief, and fulfilled a prophecy pronounced centuries before by the dying Sati of Bumbaoda, that “the Rao and the Rana should never meet at the Aheria (or spring hunt) without death ensuing.” What we are about to relate was the fourth repetition of this sport with the like fatal result.

The hamlet of Bilaita, which produced but a few good mangoes, and for its population a few Minas, was the ostensible cause of dispute. The chief of Bundi, either deeming it within his territory, or desiring to consider it so, threw up a fortification, in which he placed a garrison to overawe the freebooters, who were instigated by the discontented chiefs of Mewar to represent this as an infringement of their prince’s rights. Accordingly, the Rana marched with all his chieftains, and a mercenary [498] band of Sindis, to the disputed point, whence he invited the Bundi prince, Ajit, to his camp. He came, and the Rana was so pleased with his manners and conduct, that Bilaita and its mango grove were totally forgotten. Spring was at hand; the joyous month of Phalgun, when it was necessary to open the year with a sacrifice of the boar to Gauri (see Vol. II. p. 660). The young Hara, in return for the courtesies of the Rana, invited him to open the Aheria, within the ramnas or preserves of Bundi. The invitation was accepted; the prince of the Sesodias, according to usage, distributed the green turbans and scarfs, and on the appointed day, with a brilliant cavalcade, repaired to the heights of Nanta.

Murder of Rāna Ari Singh.

—The abdicated Rao, who had lately returned from Badarinath, no sooner heard of the projected hunt, than he dispatched a special messenger to remind his son of the anathema of the Sati. The impetuous Ajit replied that it was impossible to recall his invitation on such pusillanimous grounds. The morning came, and the Rana, filled with sentiments of friendship for the young Rao, rode with him to the field. But the preceding evening, the minister of Mewar had waited on the Rao, and in language the most insulting told him to surrender Bilaita, or he would send a body of Sindis to place him in restraint, and he was vile enough to insinuate that he was merely the organ of his prince’s commands. This rankled in the mind of the Rao throughout the day; and when the sport was 1513over, and he had the Rana’s leave to depart, a sudden idea passed across his mind of the intended degradation, and an incipient resolution to anticipate this disgrace induced him to return. The Rana, unconscious of any offence, received his young friend with a smile, repeated his permission to retire, and observed that they should soon meet again. Irresolute, and overcome by this affable behaviour, his half-formed intent was abandoned, and again he bowed and withdrew. But scarcely had he gone a few paces when, as if ashamed of himself, he summoned up the powers of revenge, and rushed, spear in hand, upon his victim. With such unerring force did he ply it, that the head of the lance, after passing through the Rana, was transfixed in the neck of his steed. The wounded prince had merely time to exclaim, as he regarded the assassin on whom he had lavished his friendship, “Oh, Hara! what have you done?” when the Indargarh chief finished the treachery with his sword. The Hara Rao, as if glorying in the act, carried off the chhattar-changi, ‘the golden sun in the sable disk,’ the regal insignia of Mewar, which he lodged in the palace of Bundi. The abdicated Ummeda, whose gratified revenge had led to a life of repentance, was horror-struck at this fresh atrocity in his house [499]: he cried, “Shame on the deed!” nor would he henceforth look on the face of his son.

A highly dramatic effect is thrown around the last worldly honours paid to the murdered king of Mewar; and although his fate has been elsewhere described, it may be proper to record it from the chronicle of his foeman.

The Obsequies of Rāna Ari Singh.

—The Rana and the Bundi prince had married two sisters, daughters of the prince of Kishangarh, so that there were ties of connexion to induce the Rana to reject all suspicion of danger, though he had been warned by his wife to beware of his brother-in-law. The ancient feud had been balanced in the mutual death of the last two princes, and no motive for enmity existed. On the day previous to this disastrous event, the Mewar minister had given a feast, of which the princes and their nobles had partaken, when all was harmony and friendship; but the sequel to the deed strongly corroborates the opinion that it was instigated by the nobles of Mewar, in hatred of their tyrannical prince; and other hints were not wanting in addition to the indignant threats of the minister to kindle the feeling of revenge. At the moment the blow was 1514struck, a simple mace-bearer alone had the fidelity to defend his master; not a chief was at hand either to intercept the stroke, or pursue the assassin; on the contrary, no sooner was the deed consummated, than the whole chivalry of Mewar, as if panic-struck and attacked by a host, took to flight, abandoning their camp and the dead body of their master.

A single concubine remained to perform the last rites to her lord. She commanded a costly pyre to be raised, and prepared to become his companion to a world unknown. With the murdered corpse in her arms, she reared her form from the pile, and, as the torch was applied, she pronounced a curse on his murderer, invoking the tree under whose shade it was raised to attest the prophecy, “that, if a selfish treachery alone prompted the deed, within two months the assassin might be an example to mankind; but if it sprung from a noble revenge of any ancient feud, she absolved him from the curse: a branch of the tree fell in token of assent, and the ashes of the Rana and the Sati whitened the plain of Bilaita.”

Death of Mahārāo Ajīt Singh.

—Within the two months, the prophetic anathema was fulfilled; the Rao of the Haras was a corpse, exhibiting an awful example of divine vengeance: “the flesh dropped from his bones, and he expired, an object of loathing and of misery.” Hitherto these feuds had been balanced by the lex talionis, or its substitutes, but this last remains unappeased, strengthening the belief that it was prompted from Mewar [500].

Mahārāo Bishan Singh, A.D. 1770-1821.

—Bishan Singh, the sole offspring of Ajit, and who succeeded to the gaddi, was then an infant, and it became a matter of necessity that Sriji should watch his interests. Having arranged the affairs of the infant Rao, and placed an intelligent Dhabhai (foster-brother) at the head of the government, he recommenced his peregrinations, being often absent four years at a time, until within a few years of his death, when the feebleness of age confined him to his hermitage of Kedarnath.

It affords an additional instance of Rajput instability of character, or rather of the imperfection of their government, that, in his old age, when a life of austerity had confirmed a renunciation which reflection had prompted, the venerable warrior became an object of distrust to his grandchild. Miscreants, who dreaded to see wisdom near the throne, had the audacity to add insult to a 1515prohibition of Sriji’s return to Bundi, commanding him “to eat sweetmeats and tell his beads at Benares.” The messenger, who found him advanced as far as Nayashahr,^[27] delivered the mandate, adding that his ashes should not mingle with his fathers'. But such was the estimation in which he was held, and the sanctity he had acquired from these pilgrimages, that the sentence was no sooner known than the neighbouring princes became suitors for his society. The heroism of his youth, the dignified piety of his age, inspired the kindred mind of Partap Singh of Amber with very different feelings from those of his own tribe. He addressed Sriji as a son and a servant, requesting permission to 'darshankar' (worship him), and convey him to his capital. Such was the courtesy of the flower of the Kachhwahas! Sriji declined this mark of homage, but accepted the invitation. He was received with honour, and so strongly did the gallant and virtuous Partap feel the indignity put upon the abdicated prince, that he told him, if “any remnant of worldly association yet lurked within him,” he would in person, at the head of all the troops of Amber, place him on the throne both of Bundi and Kotah. Sriji’s reply was consistent with his magnanimity: “They are both mine already—on the one is my nephew, on the other my grandchild.” On this occasion, Zalim Singh of Kotah appeared on the scene as mediator; he repaired to Bundi, and exposed the futility of Bishan Singh’s apprehensions; and armed with full powers of reconciliation, sent Lalaji Pandit to escort the old Rao to his capital. The meeting was such as might have been expected, between a precipitate youth tutored by artful knaves, and the venerable chief who had renounced every mundane feeling but affection for his offspring. It drew tears from all eyes: “My child,” said the pilgrim-warrior, presenting his sword, “take this; apply it yourself if you think I can have any bad intentions towards you; but let not the base defame me” [501]. The young Rao wept aloud as he entreated forgiveness; and the Pandit and Zalim Singh had the satisfaction of seeing the intentions of the sycophants, who surrounded the minor prince, defeated. Sriji refused, however, to enter the halls of Bundi during the remainder of his life, which ended about eight years after this event, when his grandchild entreated “he would close 1516his eyes within the walls of his fathers.” A remnant of that feeling inseparable from humanity made the dying Ummeda offer no objection, and he was removed in a sukhpal^[28] (litter) to the palace, where he that night breathed his last. Thus, in S. 1860 (A.D. 1804), Ummeda Singh closed a varied and chequered life; the sun of his morning rose amidst clouds of adversity, soon to burst forth in a radiant prosperity; but scarcely had it attained its meridian glory ere crime dimmed its splendour and it descended in solitude and sorrow.

Sixty years had passed over his head since Ummeda, when only thirteen years of age, put himself at the head of his Haras, and carried Patan and Gandoli. His memory is venerated in Haraoti, and but for the stain which the gratification of his revenge has left upon his fame, he would have been the model of a Rajput prince. But let us not apply the European standard of abstract virtue to these princes, who have so few checks and so many incentives to crime, and whose good acts deserve the more applause from an appalling honhar (predestination) counteracting moral responsibility.

Colonel Monson’s Campaign.

—The period of Sriji’s death was an important era in the history of the Haras. It was at this time that a British army, under the unfortunate Monson, for the first time appeared in these regions, avowedly for the purpose of putting down Holkar, the great foe of the Rajputs, but especially of Bundi.^[29] Whether the aged chief was yet alive and counselled this policy, which has since been gratefully repaid by Britain, we are not aware; but whatever has been done for Bundi has fallen short of the chivalrous deserts of its prince. It was not on the advance of our army, when its ensigns were waving in 1517anticipation of success, but on its humiliating flight, that a safe passage was not only cheerfully granted, but aided to the utmost of the Raja’s means, and with an almost culpable disregard of his own welfare and interests. It was, indeed, visited with retribution, which we little knew, or, in the pusillanimous policy of that day, little heeded. Suffice it to say, that, in 1817, when we called upon the Rajputs to arm and coalesce with us in the putting down of rapine, Bundi was one of the foremost to join the alliance. Well she might be; for the Mahratta flag waved in unison with her own within the walls of the capital, while the revenues collected scarcely [502] afforded the means of personal protection to its prince. Much of this was owing to our abandonment of the Rao in 1804.

Compensation to Būndi after the Pindāri War.

—Throughout the contest of 1817, Bundi had no will but ours; its prince and dependents were in arms ready to execute our behest; and when victory crowned our efforts in every quarter, on the subsequent pacification, the Rao Raja Bishan Singh was not forgotten. The districts held by Holkar, some of which had been alienated for half a century, and which had become ours by right of conquest, were restored to Bundi without a qualification; while, at the same time, we negotiated the surrender to him of the districts held by Sindhia, on his paying, through us, an annual sum calculated on the average of the last ten years’ depreciated revenue. The intense gratitude felt by the Raja was expressed in a few forcible words: “I am not a man of protestation; but my head is yours whenever you require it.” This was not an unmeaning phrase of compliment; he would have sacrificed his life, and that of every Hara who “ate his salt,” had we made experiment of his fidelity. Still, immense as were the benefits showered upon Bundi, and with which her prince was deeply penetrated, there was a drawback. The old Machiavelli of Kotah had been before him in signing himself ‘fidwi Sarkar Angrez’ (the slave of the English government), and had contrived to get Indargarh, Balwan, Antardah, and Khatoli, the chief feudatories of Bundi, under his protection.

The frank and brave Rao Raja could not help deeply regretting an arrangement, which, as he emphatically said, was “clipping his wings.” The disposition is a bad one, and both justice and political expediency enjoin a revision of it, and the bringing about 1518a compromise which would restore the integrity of the most interesting and deserving little State in India.^[30] Well has it repaid the anxious care we manifested for its interests; for while every other principality has, by some means or other, caused uneasiness or trouble to the protecting power, Bundi has silently advanced to comparative prosperity, happy in her independence, and interfering with no one. The Rao Raja survived the restoration of his independence only four short years, when he was carried off by that scourge, the cholera morbus. In his extremity, writhing under a disease which unmans the strongest frame and mind, he was cool and composed. He interdicted his wives from following him to the pyre, and bequeathing his son and successor [503] to the guardianship of the representative of the British government, breathed his last in the prime of life.

Death and Character of Mahārāo Bishan Singh.

—The character of Bishan Singh may be summed up in a few words. He was an honest man, and every inch a Rajput. Under an unpolished exterior, he concealed an excellent heart and an energetic soul; he was by no means deficient in understanding, and possessed a thorough knowledge of his own interests. When the Mahrattas gradually curtailed his revenues, and circumscribed his power and comforts, he seemed to delight in showing how easily he could dispense with unessential enjoyments; and found in the pleasures of the chase the only stimulus befitting a Rajput. He would bivouac for days in the lion’s lair, nor quit the scene until he had circumvented the forest king, the only prey he 1519deemed worthy of his skill. He had slain upwards of one hundred lions with his own hand, besides many tigers, and boars innumerable had been victims to his lance. In this noble pastime, not exempt from danger, and pleasurable in proportion to the toil, he had a limb broken, which crippled him for life, and shortened his stature, previously below the common standard. But when he mounted his steed and waved his lance over his head, there was a masculine vigour and dignity which at once evinced that Bishan Singh, had we called upon him, would have wielded his weapon as worthily in our cause as did his glorious ancestors for Jahangir or Shah Alam. He was somewhat despotic in his own little empire, knowing that fear is a necessary incentive to respect in the governed, more especially amongst the civil servants of his government; and, if the Court Journal of Bundi may be credited, his audiences with his chancellor of the exchequer, who was his premier, must have been amusing to those in the antechamber. The Raja had a reserved fund, to which the minister was required to add a hundred rupees daily; and whatever plea he might advance for the neglect of other duties, on this point none would be listened to, or the appeal to Indrajit was threatened. “The conqueror of Indra” was no superior divinity, but a shoe of superhuman size suspended from a peg, where a more classic prince would have exhibited his rod of empire. But he reserved this for his barons, and the shoe, thus misnamed, was the humiliating corrective for an offending minister.

The Ministers of Būndi.

—At Bundi, as at all these patriarchal principalities, the chief agents of power are few. They are four in number, namely: 1. The Diwan, or Musahib; 2. The Faujdar, or Kiladar; 3. The Bakhshi; 4. The Risala, or Comptroller of Accounts [504].^[31]

This little State became so connected with the imperial court, that, like Jaipur, the princes adopted several of its customs. The Pardhan, or premier, was entitled Diwan and Musahib; and he had the entire management of the territory and finances. The Faujdar or Kiladar is the governor of the castle, the Maire de Palais, who at Bundi is never a Rajput, but some Dhabhai or foster-brother, identified with the family, who likewise heads the 1520feudal quotas or the mercenaries, and has lands assigned for their support. The Bakhshi controls generally all accounts; the Risala those of the household expenditure. The late prince’s management of his revenue was extraordinary. Instead of the surplus being lodged in the treasury, it centred in a mercantile concern conducted by the prime minister, in the profits of which the Raja shared. But while he exhibited but fifteen per cent gain in the balance-sheet, it was stated at thirty. From this profit the troops and dependents of the court were paid, chiefly in goods and grain, and at such a rate as he chose to fix.^[32] Their necessities, and their prince being joint partner in the firm, made complaint useless; but the system entailed upon the premier universal execration.

Bishan Singh left two legitimate sons: the Rao Raja Ram Singh, then eleven years of age, who was installed in August 1821; and the Maharaja Gopal Singh, a few months younger. Both were most promising youths, especially the Raja. He inherited his father’s passion for the chase, and even at this tender age received from the nobles ^[33] their nazars and congratulations on the first wild game he slew. Hitherto his pigmy sword had been proved only on kids or lambs. His mother, the queen-regent, is a princess of Kishangarh, amiable, able, and devoted to her son. It is ardently hoped that this most interesting State and family will rise to their ancient prosperity, under the generous auspices of the government which rescued it from ruin. In return, we may reckon on a devotion to which our power is yet a stranger—strong hands and grateful hearts, which will court death in our behalf with the same indomitable spirit that has been exemplified in days gone by. Our wishes are for the prosperity of the Haras! [505].

Formation of Kotah State.

—The early history of the Haras of Kotah belongs to Bundi, of which they were a junior branch. The separation took place when Shah Jahan was emperor of India, who bestowed Kotah and its dependencies on Madho Singh, the second son of Rao Ratan, for his distinguished gallantry in the battle of Burhanpur.^[1]

Rāo Mādho Singh, c. A.D. 1625-30.

—Madho Singh was born in S. 1621 (A.D. 1565). At the early age of fourteen, he displayed that daring intrepidity which gave him the title of Raja, and Kotah with its three hundred and sixty townships (then the chief fief of Bundi, and yielding two lakhs of rent), independent of his father.

It has already been related, that the conquest of this tract was made from the Khota Bhils of the Ujla, the ‘unmixed,’ or aboriginal race. From these the Rajput will eat, and all classes will ‘drink water’ at their hands.^[2] Kotah was at that time but a series of hamlets, the abode of the Bhil chief, styled Raja, being the ancient fortress of Ekelgarh, five coss south of Kotah. But when Madho Singh was enfeoffed by the king, Kotah had already attained extensive limits. To the south it was bounded by Gagraun and Ghatoli, then held by the Khichis; on the east, by Mangrol and [506] Nahargarh, the first belonging to the Gaur, the last to a Rathor Rajput, who had apostatized to save his land and was now a Nawab; to the north, it extended as far as Sultanpur, on the Chambal, across which was the small domain of Nanta. In this space were contained three hundred and sixty townships, and a rich soil fertilized by numerous large streams.

The favour and power Madho Singh enjoyed, enabled him to increase the domain he held direct of the crown, and his authority at his death extended to the barrier between Malwa and Haraoti. Madho Singh died in S. 1687, leaving five sons, 1522whose appanages became the chief fiefs of Kotah. To the holders and their descendants, in order to mark the separation between them and the elder Haras of Bundi, the patronymic of the founder was applied, and the epithet Madhani is sufficiently distinctive whenever two Haras, bearing the same name, appear together. These were—

Rāo Mukund Singh, A.D. 1630-57.

—Raja Mukund Singh succeeded. To this prince the chief pass in the barrier dividing Malwa from Haraoti owes its name of Mukunddarra ^[4] which gained an unfortunate celebrity on the defeat and flight of the British troops under Brigadier Monson, A.D. 1804. Mukund erected many places of strength and utility; and the palace and petta ^[5] of Anta are both attributable to him.

Raja Mukund gave one of those brilliant instances of Rajput devotion to the principle of legitimate rule, so many of which illustrate his national history. When Aurangzeb formed his parricidal design to dethrone his father Shah Jahan, nearly every Rajput rallied round the throne of the aged monarch; and the Rathors and the Haras were most conspicuous. The sons of Madho Singh, besides the usual ties of fidelity, forgot not that to Shah Jahan they owed their independence, and they determined to defend him to the death. In S. 1714, in the field near Ujjain, afterwards named by the victor Fatehabad, the five brothers led their vassals, clad in the saffron-stained garment, with the bridal maur (coronet) on their head, denoting death or victory.^[6] The imprudent intrepidity of the Rathor commander denied them the latter, but a [507] glorious death no power could prevent, and all the five brothers fell in one field. The youngest, 1523Kishor Singh, was afterwards dragged from amidst the slain, and, though pierced with wounds, recovered. He was afterwards one of the most conspicuous of the intrepid Rajputs serving in the Deccan, and often attracted notice, especially in the capture of Bijapur. But the imperial princes knew not how to appreciate or to manage such men, who, when united under one who could control them, were irresistible.

Rāo Jagat Singh, A.D. 1657-70.

—Jagat Singh, the son of Mukund, succeeded to the family estates, and to the mansab or dignity of a commander of two thousand, in the imperial army. He continued serving in the Deccan until his death in S. 1726, leaving no issue.

Rāo Pem Singh, A.D. 1670.

—Pem Singh, son of Kaniram of Koila, succeeded; but was so invincibly stupid that the Panch (council of chiefs) set him aside after six months’ rule, and sent him back to Koila, which is still held by his descendants.^[7]

Rāo Kishor Singh I. A.D. 1670-86.

—Kishor Singh, who so miraculously recovered from his wounds, was placed upon the gaddi. When the throne was at length obtained by Aurangzeb, Kishor was again serving in the south, and shedding his own blood, with that of his kinsmen, in its subjugation. He greatly distinguished himself at the siege of Bijapur, and was finally slain at the escalade of Arkatgarh (Arcot), in S. 1742. He was a noble specimen of a Hara; and, it is said, counted fifty wounds on his person. He left three sons, Bishan Singh, Ram Singh, and Harnath Singh. The eldest, Bishan Singh, was deprived of his birthright for refusing to accompany his father to the south; but had the appanage and royal palace of Anta conferred upon him. His issue was as follows: Prithi Singh, chief of Anta, whose son, Ajit Singh, had three sons, Chhattarsal, Guman Singh, and Raj Singh.

Rāo Rām Singh, A.D. 1686-1707.

—Ram Singh, who was with his father when he was killed, succeeded to all his dignities, and 1524was inferior to none in the contests which fill the page of imperial history, and in opposing the rise of the Mahrattas. In the war of succession, he embraced the cause of Prince Azam, the viceroy in the Deccan, against the elder, Muazzam, and was slain in the battle of Jajau, in S. 1764. In this memorable conflict, which decided the succession to the throne, the Kotah prince espoused the opposite cause to [508] the head of his house of Bundi, and Hara met Hara in that desperate encounter, when a cannon-shot terminated the life of Ram Singh in the very zenith of his career.

Rāo Bhīm Singh, A.D. 1707-20.

—Bhim Singh succeeded; and with him Kotah no longer remained a raj of the third order. On the death of Bahadur Shah, and the accession of Farrukhsiyar, Raja Bhim espoused the cause of the Sayyids, when his mansab was increased to “five thousand,” a rank heretofore confined to princes of the blood and rajas of the first class. The elder branch of the Haras maintained its fealty to the throne against these usurping ministers, and thus the breach made at the battle of Jajau was widened by their taking opposite sides. The disgraceful attempt of Raja Bhim on the life of Rao Raja Budh of Bundi has already been recorded. Having completely identified himself with the designs of the Sayyids and Jai Singh of Amber, he aided all the schemes of the latter to annihilate Bundi, an object the more easy of accomplishment since the unmerited and sudden misfortunes of Rao Budh had deprived him of his reason. Raja Bhim obtained the royal sanad or grant for all the lands on the Patar, from Kotah west, to the descent into Ahirwara east; which comprehended much land of the Khichis as well as of Bundi. He thus obtained the celebrated castle of Gagraun, now the strongest in Haraoti, and rendered memorable by its defence against Alau-d-din; likewise Mau Maidana, Shirgarh, Bara, Mangrol, and Barod, all to the eastward of the Chambal, which was formally constituted the western boundary of the State. The aboriginal Bhils of Ujla, or ‘pure’ descent, had recovered much of their ancient inheritance in the intricate tracts on the southern frontier of Haraoti. Of these, Manohar Thana, now the most southern garrison of Kotah, became their chief place, and here dwelt ‘the king of the Bhils,’ Raja Chakarsen, whose person was attended by five hundred horse and eight hundred bowmen, and to whom all the various tribes of Bhils, from Mewar to the extremity of the plateau, owed obedience. This indigenous race, 1525whose simple life secured their preservation amidst all the vicissitudes of fortune, from Raja Bhoj of Dhar to Raja Bhim of Kotah, were dispossessed and hunted down without mercy, and their possessions added to Kotah. On the occasion of the subjugation of Bhilwara, the latter assigned tracts of land to the Umat chiefs of Narsingarh and Rajgarh Patan, with townships in thali, in Kotah proper, and hence arose the claim of Kotah on these independent States for the tribute termed tankhwah.^[8] At the same time all the [509] chieftains acknowledged the supremacy of Kotah, under articles of precisely the same nature as those which guaranteed the safety and independence of Rajwara by Britain; with this difference, that the Umats could not be installed without the khilat of recognition of the princes of Kotah. Had Raja Bhim lived, he would further have extended the borders of Haraoti, which were already carried beyond the mountains. Onarsi, Dig, Perawa, and the lands of the Chandarawats, were brought under subjection, but were lost with his death, which, like that of his predecessors, was an untimely sacrifice to duty towards the throne.

When the celebrated Kilich Khan,^[9] afterwards better known to history as Nizamu-l-mulk, fled from the court to maintain himself by force of arms in his government of the Deccan, Raja Jai Singh of Amber, as the lieutenant of the king, commanded Bhim Singh of Kotah and Gaj Singh of Narwar to intercept him in his passage. The Nizam was the Pagri badal Bhai, or ‘turban-exchanged brother,’ of the Hara prince, and he sent him a friendly epistle, entreating him “not to credit the reports to his disadvantage, telling him that he had abstracted no treasures of the empire, and that Jai Singh was a meddling knave, who desired 1526the destruction of both; and urging him to heed him not, nor offer any molestation to his passage to the south.” The brave Hara replied, that “He knew the line between friendship and duty; he was commanded to intercept him, and had advanced for that purpose; it was the king’s order; fight him he must, and next morning would attack him.” The courtesy of the Rajput, who mingled no resentment with his hostility, but, like a true cavalier, gave due warning of his intention, was not thrown away upon the wily Muslim. The Nizam took post amidst the broken ground of the Sindh, near the town of Kurwai Borasa.^[10] There was but one approach to his position without a circuitous march, which suited not the impatient Rajput; and there his antagonist planted a battery, masked by some brushwood. At the pila badal (morning-dawn) Raja Bhim, having taken his amal-pani, or opium-water, mounted his elephant, and uniting his vassals to those of the Kachhwaha, the combined clans moved on to the attack, in one of those dense masses, with couched lances, whose shock is irresistible. They were within musket-shot of the Nizam; had they reached him, Haidarabad would never have arisen on the ruins of Gualkund,^[11] the ancient Hara abode; but the battery opened, and in an instant the elephants with their riders, Raja Bhim and Raja Gaj, were destroyed. Horse and foot became commingled, happy to emerge from the toils into which the blind confidence of their leaders had carried them; and Kilich Khan pursued the career that destiny had marked out for him [510].

Loss of the Hāra Tribal God.

—On this occasion the Haras sustained a double loss: their leader, and their titular divinity, Brajnath, the god of Braj. This palladium of the Haras is a small golden image, which is borne on the saddle-bow of their princely leader in every conflict. When the gol is formed and the lances are couched, the signal of onset is the shout of ‘Jai Brajnathji!’ ‘Victory to Brajnath!’ and many a glorious victory and many a glorious death has he witnessed. After being long missing, the representative of the god was recovered and sent to Kotah, to the great joy of every Hara. It was in S. 1776 (A.D. 1720) that Bhim Singh perished, having ruled fifteen years, during which short period he established the affairs of his little dominion on a basis which has never been shaken.

1527

Rāo Bhīm Singh attacks Būndi.

—The rivalry that commenced between the houses, when Hara encountered Hara on the plains of Dholpur, and each princely leader sealed his fidelity to the cause he espoused with his blood, was brought to issue by Raja Bhim, whose attack upon Rao Budh of Bundi, while defending the forlorn Farrukhsiyar, has already been related, though without its consequences. These were fatal to the supremacy of the elder branch; for, taking advantage of his position and the expulsion of Rao Budh, in which he aided, Raja Bhim made an attempt upon Bundi, and despoiled that capital of all the insignia of sovereign rule, its nakkaras, or kettle-drums, with the celebrated ran-sankh, or war-shell, an heirloom descended from the heroes of antiquity. Even the military band, whose various discordant instruments are still in use, may be heard in pseudo concert from the guardroom over the chief gate of the citadel, at Kotah; while the “orange flag,” the gift of Jahangir to Rao Ratan, around which many a brave Hara has breathed his last, is now used by the junior house in all processions or battles.

To recover these ensigns of fallen dignity, many a stratagem has been tried. False keys of the city gates of Kotah and its citadel had been procured, and its guards won over by bribery to favour admission; but an unceasing vigilance defeated the plan when on the brink of execution: since which the gates of Kotah are always closed at sunset, and never opened even to the prince. This custom has been attended with great inconvenience; of which the following anecdote affords an instance. When Raja Durjan after his defeat reached Kotah at midnight, with a few attendants, he called aloud to the sentinel for admittance; but the orders of the latter were peremptory and allowed of no discretion. The soldier desired the Raja to be gone; upon which, expostulation being vain, he revealed himself as the prince. At this the soldier laughed [511]; but, tired of importunity, bade his sovereign “go to hell,” levelled his match-lock, and refused to call the officer on guard. The prince retired, and passed the night in a temple close at hand. At daybreak the gates were opened, and the soldiers were laughing at their comrade’s story of the night, when the Raja appeared. All were surprised, but most of all the sentinel, who, taking his sword and shield, placed them at his sovereign’s feet, and in a manly but respectful attitude awaited his decision. The prince raised him, and praising his 1528fidelity, bestowed the dress he then wore upon him, besides a gift of money.

The Hara chronicler states, that Raja Bhim’s person was seamed with scars, and so fastidious was he, through the fear of incurring the imputation of vanity, that he never undressed in presence of his attendants. Nor was it till his death-wound at Kurwai that this singularity was explained, on one of his confidential servants expressing his surprise at the numerous scars; which brought this characteristic reply: “He who is born to govern Haras, and desires to preserve his land, must expect to get these: the proper post for a Rajput prince is ever at the head of his vassals.”

Raja Bhim was the first prince of Kotah who had the dignity of Panj-hazari, or ‘leader of five thousand,’ conferred upon him. He was likewise the first of his dynasty who bore the title of Maharao, or ‘Great Prince’; a title confirmed though not conferred by the paramount sovereign, but by the head of their own princely tribes, the Rana of Mewar. Previous to Gopinath of Bundi, whose issue are the great feudal chiefs of Haraoti, their titular appellation was Apji, which has the same import as herself (or rather himself), applied to highland chiefs of Scotland; but when Indarsal went to Udaipur, he procured the title of Maharaja for himself and his brothers; since which Apji has been applied to the holders of the secondary fiefs, the Madhani of Kotah. Raja Bhim left three sons, Arjun Singh, Shyam Singh, and Durjansal.

Mahārāo Arjun Singh, A.D. 1720-24.

—Maharao Arjun married the sister of Madho Singh, ancestor of Zalim Singh Jhala; but died without issue, after four years’ rule. On his death, there arose a civil war respecting the succession, in which the vassals were divided. Clan encountered clan in the field of Udaipura, when the fate of Shyam Singh was sealed in his blood. It is said, the survivor would willingly have given up dominion to have restored his brother to life; that he cursed his ambitious rashness, and wept bitterly over the dead body. By these contentions the rich districts of Rampura, Bhanpura, and Kalapet, which [512] the king had taken from the ancient family and bestowed on Raja Bhim, were lost to the Haras, and regained by their ancient possessors.

Mahārāo Durjansāl, A.D. 1724-56. The Marātha Invasion.

—Durjansal assumed ‘the rod’ in S. 1780 (A.D. 1724). His accession 1529was acknowledged by Muhammad Shah, the last of the Timurian kings who deserved the appellation, and at whose court the prince of Kotah received the khilat and obtained the boon of preventing the slaughter of kine in every part of the Jumna frequented by his nation. Durjansal succeeded on the eve of an eventful period in the annals of his country. It was in his reign that the Mahrattas under Bajirao first invaded Hindustan. On this memorable occasion, they passed by the Taraj Pass, and skirting Haraoti on its eastern frontier, performed a service to Durjansal, by attacking and presenting to him the castle of Nahargarh, then held by a Musalman chief. It was in S. 1795 ^[12] (A.D. 1739) that the first connexion between the Haras and the ‘Southrons’ took place; and this service of the Peshwa leader was a return for stores and ammunition necessary for his enterprise. But a few years only elapsed before this friendly act and the good understanding it induced were forgotten.

Jaipur claims to control Kotah.

—We have recorded, in the Annals of Bundi, the attempts of the princes of Amber, who were armed with the power of the monarchy, to reduce the chiefs of Haraoti to the condition of vassals. This policy, originating with Jai Singh, was pursued by his successor, who drove the gallant Budh Singh into exile, to madness and death, though the means by which he effected it ultimately recoiled upon him, to his humiliation and destruction. Having, however, driven Budh Singh from Bundi, and imposed the condition of homage and tribute upon the creature of his installation, he desired to inflict his supremacy on Kotah. In this cause, in S. 1800, he invited the three great Mahratta leaders, with the Jats under Surajmall, when, after a severe conflict at Kotri, the city was invested. During three months, every effort was made, but in vain; and after cutting down the trees and destroying the gardens in the environs, they were compelled to decamp, the leader, Jai Apa Sindhia,^[13] leaving one of his hands, which was carried off by a cannon-shot.

1530

Birth of Zālim Singh.

—Durjansal was nobly seconded by the courage and counsel of the Faujdar, or ‘commandant of the garrison,’ Himmat Singh, a Rajput of the Jhala tribe. It was through Himmat Singh that the negotiations were carried on, which added Nahargarh to Kotah; and to him were confided those in which Kotah was compelled to follow the [513] general denationalization, and become subservient to the Mahrattas. Between these two events, S. 1795 and S. 1800, Zalim Singh was born, a name of such celebrity that his biography would embrace all that remains to be told of the history of the Haras.

When Isari Singh was foiled, the brave Durjansal lent his assistance to replace the exiled Ummeda on the throne which his father had lost. But without Holkar’s aid, this would have been vain; and, in S. 1805 (A.D. 1749), the year of Ummeda’s restoration, Kotah was compelled to become tributary to the Mahrattas.

Death and Character of Durjansāl.

—Durjansal added several places to his dominions. He took Phul-Barod from the Khichis, and attempted the fortress of Gugor, which was bravely defended by Balbhaddar in person, who created a league against the Hara composed of the chiefs of Rampura, Sheopur, and Bundi. The standard of Kotah was preserved from falling into the hands of the Khichis by the gallantry of Ummeda Singh of Bundi. The battle between the rival clans, both of Chauhan blood, was in S. 1810; and in three years more, Durjansal departed this life. He was a valiant prince, and possessed all the qualities of which the Rajput is enamoured; affability, generosity, and bravery. He was devoted to field-sports, especially the royal one of tiger-hunting; and had ramnas or preserves in every corner of his dominions (some of immense extent, with ditches and palisadoes, and sometimes circumvallations), in all of which he erected hunting-seats.

In these expeditions, which resembled preparations for war, he invariably carried the queens. These Amazonian ladies were taught the use of the matchlock, and being placed upon the terraced roofs of the hunting-seats, sent their shots at the forest-lord, when driven past their stand by the hunters. On one of these occasions the Jhala Faujdar was at the foot of the scaffolding; the tiger, infuriated with the uproar, approached him open-mouthed; but the prince had not yet given the word, and none 1531dared to fire without his signal. The animal eyed his victim, and was on the point of springing, when the Jhala advanced his shield, sprung upon him, and with one blow of his sword laid him dead at his feet. The act was applauded by the prince and his court, and contributed not a little to the character he had already attained.

Durjansal left no issue. He was married to a daughter of the Rana of Mewar. Being often disappointed, and at length despairing of an heir, about three years before his death, he told the Rani it was time to think of adopting an heir to fill the gaddi, “for it was evident that the Almighty disapproved of the usurpation which changed the order of succession.” It will be remembered that Bishan Singh, son of Ram Singh [514], was set aside for refusing, in compliance with maternal fears, to accompany his father in the wars of the Deccan. When dispossessed of his birthright, he was established in the fief of Antha on the Chambal.^[14] At the death of Durjansal, Ajit Singh, grandson of the disinherited prince, was lord of Antha, but he was in extreme old age. He had three sons, and the eldest, whose name of Chhattarsal revived ancient associations, was formally “placed in the lap of the Rani Mewari; the asis (blessing) was given; he was taught the names of his ancestors (being no longer regarded as the son of Ajit of Antha), Chhattar Singh, son of Durjansal, Bhimsinghgot, Ram Singh, Kishor Singh, etc., etc.,” and so on, to the fountain-head, Dewa Banga, and thence to Manikrae of Ajmer. Though the adoption was proclaimed, and all looked to Chhattarsal as the future lord of the Haras of Kotah, yet on the death of Durjan, the Jhala Faujdar took upon him to make an alteration in this important act, and he had power enough to effect it.

Mahārāo Ajīt Singh, A.D. 1756-59. Mahārāo Chhattarsāl, A.D. 1759-66.

—The old chief of Antha was yet alive, and the Faujdar said, “It was contrary to nature that the son should rule and the father obey”; but doubtless other motives mingled with his piety, in which, besides self-interest, may have been a consciousness of the dangers inseparable from a minority. The only difficulty was to obtain the consent of the chief himself, then “fourscore years and upwards,” to abandon his peaceful castle on the Kali Sind for the cares of government. But the 1532Faujdar prevailed; old Ajit was crowned, and survived his exaltation two years and a half. Ajit left three sons, Chhattarsal, Guman Singh, and Raj Singh. Chhattarsal was proclaimed the Maharao of the Haras. The celebrated Himmat Singh Jhala died before his accession, and his office of Faujdar was conferred upon his nephew, Zalim Singh.

At this epoch, Madho Singh, who had acceded to the throne of Amber on the suicide of his predecessor, Isari, instead of taking warning by example, prepared to put forth all his strength for the revival of those tributary claims upon the Haras, which had cost his brother his life. The contest was between Rajput and Rajput; the question at issue was supremacy on the one hand, and subserviency on the other, the sole plea for which was that the Kotah contingent had acted under the princes of Amber, when lieutenants of the empire. But the Haras held in utter scorn the attempt to compel this service in their individual capacity, in which they only recognized them as equals.

Jaipur attacks Kotah.

—It was in S. 1817 (A.D. 1761) that the prince of Amber assembled all his clans to force the Haras to acknowledge themselves tributaries. The invasion of the Abdali ^[15] [515], which humbled the Mahrattas and put a stop to their pretensions to universal sovereignty, left the Rajputs to themselves. Madho Singh, in his march to Haraoti, assaulted Uniara, and added it to his territory. Thence he proceeded to Lakheri, which he took, driving out the crestfallen Southrons. Emboldened by this success, he crossed at the Pali Ghat, the point of confluence of the Par and the Chambal. The Hara chieftain of Sultanpur, whose duty was the defence of the ford, was taken by surprise; but, like a true Hara, he gathered his kinsmen outside his castle, and gave battle to the host. He made amends for his supineness, and bartered his life for his honour. It was remarked by the invaders, that, as he fell, his clenched hand grasped the earth, which afforded merriment to some, but serious reflection to those who knew the tribe, and who converted it into an omen “that even in death the Hara would cling to his land.” The victors, flushed with this fresh success, proceeded through the heart of Kotah until they reached Bhatwara,^[16] where they 1533found five thousand Haras, ek bap ka beta, all ‘children of one father,’ drawn up to oppose them. The numerical odds were fearful against Kotah; but the latter were defending their altars and their honour. The battle commenced with a desperate charge of the whole Kachhwaha horse, far more numerous than the brave legion of Kotah; but, too confident of success, they had tired their horses ere they joined. It was met by a dense mass, with perfect coolness, and the Haras remained unbroken by the shock. Fresh numbers came up; the infantry joined the cavalry, and the battle became desperate and bloody. It was at this moment that Zalim Singh made his debut. He was then twenty-one years of age, and had already, as the adopted son of Himmat Singh, “tied his turban on his head,” and succeeded to his post of Faujdar. While the battle was raging, Zalim dismounted, and at the head of his quota, fought on foot, and at the most critical moment obtained the merit of the victory, by the first display of that sagacity for which he has been so remarkable throughout his life [516].

Malhar Rao Holkar was encamped in their vicinity, with the remnant of his horde, but so crestfallen since the fatal day of Panipat,^[17] that he feared to side with either. At this moment young Zalim, mounting his steed, galloped to the Mahratta, and implored him, if he would not fight, to move round and plunder the Jaipur camp: a hint which needed no repetition.

The little impression yet made on the Kotah band only required the report that “the camp was assaulted,” to convert the lukewarm courage of their antagonists into panic and flight: “the host of Jaipur fled, while the sword of the Hara performed tirath (pilgrimage) in rivers of blood.xxxx

The chiefs of Macheri, of Isarda, Watka, Barol, Achrol, with all the ots and awats of Amber, turned their backs on five thousand Haras of Kotah; for the Bundi troops, though assembled, did not join, and lost the golden opportunity to free its Kothris, or fiefs, from the tribute. Many prisoners were taken, and the five-coloured banner of Amber fell into the hands of the Haras, whose bard was not slow to turn the incident to account in the stanza, still repeated whenever he celebrates the victory of Bhatwara, and in which the star (tara) of Zalim prevailed:

“In the battle of Bhatwara, the star of Zalim was triumphant. In that field of strife (ringa) but one colour (rang) covered that of the five-coloured (panch-ranga) banner”: meaning that the Amber standard was dyed in blood.

The battle of Bhatwara decided the question of tribute, nor has the Kachhwaha since this day dared to advance the question of supremacy, which, as lieutenant of the empire, he desired to transfer to himself. In derision of this claim, ever since the day of Bhatwara, when the Haras assemble at their Champ de Mars to celebrate the annual military festival, they make a mock castle of Amber, which is demolished amidst shouts of applause.^[19]

Chhattarsal survived his elevation and this success but a few years; and as he died without offspring, he was succeeded by his brother [517].

CHAPTER 6

Mahārāo Gumān Singh, A.D. 1766-71.

—Guman Singh, in S. 1822 (A.D. 1766), ascended the gaddi of his ancestors. He was in the prime of manhood, full of vigour and intellect, and well calculated to contend with the tempests collecting from the south, ready to pour on the devoted lands of Rajputana. But one short lustrum of rule was all that fate had ordained for him, when he was compelled to resign his rod of power into the hands of an infant. But ere we reach this period, we must retrace our steps, and introduce more prominently the individual whose biography is the future history of this State; for Zalim Singh is Kotah, his name being not only indissolubly linked with hers in every page of her existence, but incorporated with that of every State of Rajputana for more than half a century. He was the primum mobile of the region he inhabited, a sphere far too 1535confined for his genius, which required a wider field for its display, and might have controlled the destinies of nations.

Zālim Singh Jhāla.

—Zalim Singh is a Rajput of the Jhala tribe. He was born in S. 1796 (A.D. 1740), an ever memorable epoch (as already observed) in the history of India, when the victorious Nadir Shah led his hordes into her fertile soil, and gave the finishing blow to the dynasty of Timur. But for this event, its existence might have been protracted, though its recovery was hopeless: the principle of decay had been generated by the policy of Aurangzeb. Muhammad Shah was at this time emperor of India,^[1] and the valiant Durjansal sat on the throne of Kotah. From this period (A.D. 1740) five princes have passed away and a sixth has been enthroned; and, albeit one of these reigns endured for half a century, Zalim Singh has outlived them all,^[2] and though blind, his [518] moral perceptions are as acute as on the day of Bhatwara. What a chain of events does not this protracted life embrace! An empire then dazzling in glory, and now mouldering in the dust. At its opening, the highest noble of Britain would have stood at a reverential distance from the throne of Timur, in the attitude of a suppliant, and now—

To do anything like justice to the biography of one who for so long a period was a prominent actor in the scene, is utterly impossible; this consideration, however, need not prevent our attempting a sketch of this consummate politician, who can scarcely find a parallel in the varied page of history.

The ancestors of Zalim Singh were petty chieftains of Halwad,^[3] in the district of Jhalawar, a subdivision of the Saurashtra peninsula. Bhao Singh was a younger son of this family, who, with a few adherents, left the paternal roof to seek fortune amongst the numerous conflicting armies that ranged India during the contests for supremacy amongst the sons of Aurangzeb. His son, Madho Singh, came to Kotah when Raja Bhim was in the zenith of his power. Although he had only twenty-five horse 1536in his train, it is a proof of the respectability of the Jhala, that the prince disdained not his alliance, and even married his son, Arjun, to the young adventurer’s sister. Not long after, the estate of Nanta was entailed upon him, with the confidential post of Faujdar, which includes not only the command of the troops, but that of the castle, the residence of the sovereign. This family connexion gave an interest to his authority, and procured him the respectful title of Mama,^[4] from the younger branches of the prince’s family, an epithet which habit has continued to his successors, who are always addressed Mama Sahib, ‘Sir, Uncle!’ Madan Singh succeeded his father in the office of Faujdar. He had two sons, Himmat Singh and Prithi Singh.

The office of Faujdar, which, like all those of the east, had become hereditary, was advantageously filled by Himmat Singh, whose bravery and skill were conspicuous on many trying emergencies. He directed, or at least seconded, the defence of Kotah, when first assailed by the combined Mahratta and Jaipur troops, and conducted the treaty which made her tributary to the former, till at length so identified was his influence with that of the Haras, that with their concurrence he restored the ancient line of succession. Though neither the prince, Durjansal, nor his Major Domo, had much merit in this act, it was made available by Zalim Singh in support of his pretensions to power, and in proof 1537of the ingratitude of his sovereign, “whose ancestors recovered their rights at the instigation of his own.” But Zalim Singh had no occasion to go back to the virtues of his ancestors for an argument on which to base his own claims to authority. He could point to the field of Bhatwara, where his bravery and skill mainly aided to vanquish the enemies of Kotah, and to crush for ever those arrogant pretensions to supremacy which the Jaipur State strained every nerve to establish.

Zālim Singh retires to Mewār.

—It was not long after the accession of Guman Singh to the sceptre of the Haras, that the brave and handsome Major Domo, having dared to cross his master’s path in love, lost his favour, and the office of Faujdar, which he had attained in his twenty-first year. It is probable he evinced little contrition for his offence, for the confiscation of Nanta soon followed. This estate, on the west bank of the Chambal, still enjoyed as a fief in perpetuity by the Jhala family, was the original appanage of the Kotah State when a younger branch of Bundi. From hence may be inferred the consideration in which the Jhala ancestor of our subject was held, which conferred upon him the heirloom of the house. Both the office and the estate thereto attached, thus resumed, were bestowed upon the maternal uncle of the prince, Bhopat Singh, of the Bhangrot tribe. By this step, the door of reconciliation being closed against the young Jhala, he determined to abandon the scene of his disgrace, and court fortune elsewhere. He was not long in determining the path he should pursue: Amber was shut against him, and Marwar held out no field for his ambition. Mewar was at hand, and a chief of his own tribe and nation then ruled the councils of Rana Arsi, who had lately succeeded to power, but a power paralysed by faction and by a pretender to the throne. The Jhala chieftain of Delwara, one of the sixteen great barons of Mewar, had headed the party which placed his sovereign on the throne; and he felt no desire to part with the influence which this service gave him. He entertained [520] foreign guards about the person of his prince, and distributed estates at pleasure among those who supported his measures; while from the crown domain, or from the estates of those who were hostile to his influence, he seized upon lands, which doubled his possessions. Such was the court of Rana Arsi, when the ex-Major Domo of Kotah came to seek a new master. His reputation at 1538once secured him a reception, and his talents for finesse, already developed, made the Rana confide to him the subjection in which he was held by his own vassal-subject. It was then that Zalim, a youth and a stranger, showed that rare union of intrepidity and caution which has made him the wonder of the age. By a most daring plan, which cost the Delwara chief his life, in open day and surrounded by attendants, the Rana was released from this odious tutelage. For this service, the title of Raj Rana ^[5] and the estate of Chitarkhera on the southern frontier were conferred upon Zalim, who was now a noble of the second rank in Mewar. The rebellion still continued, however, and the pretender and his faction sought the aid of the Mahrattas; but under the vigorous councils of Zalim, seconded by the spirit of the Rana, an army was collected which gave battle to the combined rebels and Mahrattas. The result of this day has already been related.^[6] The Rana was discomfited and lost the flower of his nobles when victory was almost assured to them, and Zalim was left wounded and a prisoner in the field. He fell into the hands of Trimbakrao, the father of the celebrated Ambaji Inglia, and the friendship then formed materially governed the future actions of his life.

Zālim Singh returns to Kotah.

—The loss of this battle left the Rana and Mewar at the mercy of the conqueror. Udaipur was invested, and capitulated, after a noble defence, upon terms which perpetuated her thraldom. Zalim, too wise to cling to the fortunes of a falling house, instead of returning to Udaipur, bent his steps to Kotah, in company with the Pandit, Lalaji Balal, the faithful partaker of his future fortunes. Zalim foresaw the storm about to spread over Rajwara, and deemed himself equal to guide and avert it from Kotah, while the political levity of Mewar gave him little hopes of success at that court.

Raja Guman, however, had neither forgotten nor forgiven his competitor, and refused to receive him: but in no wise daunted, he trusted to his address, and thrust himself unbidden on the prince. The moment he chose proved favourable; and he was not only pardoned, but employed [521].

Gallant Death of Mādho Singh.

—The Mahrattas had now reached the southern frontier, and invested the castle of Bakhani,^[7] 1539which was defended by four hundred Haras of the Sawant clan,^[8] under its chief, Madho Singh. The enemy had been foiled in repeated attempts to escalade, and it furnishes a good idea of the inadequate means of the ‘Southrons’ for the operations of a siege, when their besieging apparatus was confined to an elephant, whose head was the substitute for a petard, to burst open the gate. Repeated instances, however, prove that this noble animal is fully equal to the task, and would have succeeded on this occasion, had not the intrepidity of the Hara chieftain prompted one of those desperate exploits which fill the pages of their annals. Armed with his dagger, Madho Singh leaped from the walls upon the back of the elephant, stabbed the rider, and with repeated blows felled the animal to the earth. That he should escape could not be expected; but his death and the noble deed kindled such enthusiasm, that his clan threw wide the gate, and rushing sword in hand amidst the multitude, perished to a man. But they died not unavenged: thirteen hundred of the bravest of the Mahrattas accompanied them to Suryaloka, the warrior’s heaven. The invaders continued their inroad, and invested Sohet: but the prince sent his commands to the garrison to preserve their lives for Kotah, and not again sacrifice them, as the point of honour had been nobly maintained. Accordingly, at midnight, they evacuated the place; but whether from accident or treachery, the grass jungle which covered their retreat was set fire to, and cast so resplendent a light, that the brave garrison had to fight their way against desperate odds, and many were slain. Malharrao Holkar, who had been greatly disheartened at the loss sustained at Bakhani, was revived at this success, and prepared to follow it up. Raja Guman deemed it advisable to try negotiation, and the Bhangrot Faujdar was sent with full powers to treat with the Mahratta commander; but he failed and returned.

Zālim Singh appointed Guardian of the Heir.

—Such was the moment chosen by young Zalim to force himself into the presence of his offended prince. In all probability he mentioned the day at Bhatwara, where by his courage, and still more by his tact, he released Kotah from the degradation of being subordinate to Amber; and that it was by his influence with the same Malharrao Holkar, who now threatened Kotah, he was enabled to succeed. 1540He was invested with full powers; the negotiation was renewed, and terminated successfully: for the sum of six lakhs of rupees the Mahratta leader withdrew his horde from the territory of Kotah. His [522] prince’s favour was regained, his estate restored, and the unsuccessful negotiator lost the office of Faujdar, into which young Zalim was reinducted. But scarcely had he recovered his rights, before Guman Singh was taken grievously ill, and all hopes of his life were relinquished. To whom could the dying prince look at such a moment, as guardian of his infant son, but the person whose skill had twice saved the State from peril? He accordingly proclaimed his will to his chiefs, and with all due solemnity placed Ummed Singh, then ten years of age, ‘in the lap’ of Zalim Singh.

Mahārāo Ummed Singh, A.D. 1771-1819.

—Ummed Singh was proclaimed in S. 1827 (A.D. 1771). On the day of inauguration, the ancient Rajput custom of the tika-daur was revived, and the conquest of Kelwara ^[9] from the house of Narwar marked with éclat the accession of the Maharao of the Haras of Kotah, and gave early indication that the genius of the regent would not sleep in his office of protector. More than half a century of rule, amidst the most appalling vicissitudes, has amply confirmed the prognostication.

The retention of a power thus acquired, it may be concluded, could never be effected without severity, nor the vigorous authority, wielded throughout a period beyond the ordinary limits of mortality, be sustained without something more potent than persuasion. Still, when we consider Zalim’s perilous predicament, and the motives to perpetual reaction, his acts of severity are fewer than might have been expected, or than occur in the course of usurpation under similar circumstances. Mature reflection initiated all his measures, and the sagacity of their conception was only equalled by the rapidity of their execution. Whether the end in view was good or evil, nothing was ever half-done; no spark was left to excite future conflagration. Even this excess of severity was an advantage; it restrained the repetition of what, whether morally right or wrong, he was determined not to tolerate. To pass a correct judgment on these acts is most difficult. What in one case was a measure of barbarous severity, appears in another to have been one indispensable to the welfare 1541of the State. But this is not the place to discuss the character or principles of the regent; let us endeavour to unfold both in the exhibition of those acts which have carried him through the most tempestuous sea of political convulsion in the whole history of India. When nought but revolution and rapine stalked through the land, when State after State was crumbling into dust, or sinking into the abyss of ruin, he guided the vessel entrusted to his care safely through all dangers, adding yearly to her riches, until he placed her in security under the protection of Britain [523].

Zālim Singh Regent of Kotah.

—Scarcely had Zalim assumed the protectorate, when he was compelled to make trial of those Machiavellian powers which have never deserted him, in order to baffle the schemes devised to oppose him. The duties of Faujdar, to which he had hitherto been restricted, were entirely of a military nature; though, as it involved the charge of the castle, in which the sovereign resided, it brought him in contact with his councils. This, however, afforded no plea for interference in the Diwani, or civil duties of the government, in which, ever since his own accession to power, he had a coadjutor in Rae Akhairam, a man of splendid talents, and who had been Diwan or prime minister throughout the reign of Chhattarsal and the greater part of that of his successor. To his counsel is mainly ascribed the advantages gained by Kotah throughout these reigns; yet did he fall a sacrifice to jealousies a short time before the death of his prince, Guman Singh. It is not affirmed that they were the suggestions of young Zalim; but Akhairam’s death left him fewer competitors to dispute the junction in his own person of the civil as well as military authority of the State. Still he had no slight opposition to overcome, in the very opening of his career. The party which opposed the pretensions of Zalim Singh to act as regent of the State, asserting that no such power had been bequeathed by the dying prince, consisted of his cousin, the Maharaja Sarup Singh, and the Bhangrot chief, whose disgrace brought Zalim into power. There was, besides, the Dhabhai Jaskaran, foster-brother to the prince, a man of talent and credit, whose post, being immediately about his person, afforded opportunities for carrying their schemes into effect.

Murder of Sarūp Singh.

—Such was the powerful opposition arrayed against the protector in the very commencement of his career. The conspiracy was hardly formed, however, before it 1542was extinguished by the murder of the Maharaja by the hands of the Dhabhai, the banishment of the assassin, and the flight of the Bhangrot. The rapidity with which this drama was enacted struck terror into all. The gaining over the foster-brother, the making him the instrument of punishment, and banishing him for the crime, acted like a spell, and appeared such a masterpiece of daring and subtilty combined, that no one thought himself secure. There had been no cause of discontent between the Maharaja and the Dhabhai, to prompt revenge; yet did the latter, in the glare of open day, rush upon him in the garden of Brajvilas,^[10] and with a blow of his scimitar end his days. The regent was the loudest in execrating the author of the crime, whom he instantly seized and confined, and soon after expelled from Haraoti. But however well acted, this dissimulation passed not with the world; and, whether innocent or guilty, they lay to Zalim’s charge the plot for the murder of the Maharaja. The Dhabhai died in exile and contempt at [524] Jaipur; and in abandoning him to his fate without provision, Zalim, if guilty of the deed, showed at once his knowledge and contempt of mankind. Had he added another murder to the first, and in the fury of an affected indignation become the sole depository of his secret, he would only have increased the suspicion of the world; but in turning the culprit loose on society to proclaim his participation in the crime, he neutralized the reproach by destroying the credibility of one who was a self-convicted assassin when he had it in his power to check its circulation. In order to unravel this tortuous policy, it is necessary to state that the Dhabhai was seduced from the league by the persuasion of the regent, who insinuated that the Maharaja formed plans inimical to the safety of the young prince, and that his own elevation was the true object of his hostility to the person entrusted with the charge of the minor sovereign. Whatever truth there might be in this, which might be pleaded in justification of the foul crime, it was attended with the consequences he expected. Immediately after, the remaining member of the adverse junta withdrew, and at the same time many of the nobles abandoned their estates and their country. Zalim evinced his contempt of their means of resistance by granting them free egress from the kingdom, and determined 1543to turn their retreat to account. They went to Jaipur and to Jodhpur; but troubles prevailed everywhere; the princes could with difficulty keep the prowling Mahratta from their own doors, and possessed neither funds nor inclination to enter into foreign quarrels for objects which would only increase their already superabundant difficulties. The event turned out as Zalim anticipated; and the princes, to whom the refugees were suitors, had a legitimate excuse in the representations of the regent, who described them as rebels to their sovereign and parties to designs hostile to his rule. Some died abroad, and some, sick of wandering in a foreign land dependent on its bounty, solicited as a boon that “their ashes might be burned with their fathers'.” In granting this request, Zalim evinced that reliance on himself, which is the leading feature of his character. He permitted their return, but received them as traitors who had abandoned their prince and their country, and it was announced to them, as an act of clemency, that they were permitted to live upon a part of their estates; which, as they had been voluntarily abandoned, were sequestrated and belonged to the crown.

Zālim Singh’s Triumph over his Opponents.

—Such was Zalim Singh’s triumph over the first faction formed against his assumption of the full powers of regent of Kotah. Not only did the aristocracy feel humiliated, but were subjugated by the rod of iron held over them; and no opportunity [525] was ever thrown away of crushing this formidable body, which in these States too often exerts its pernicious influence to the ruin of society. The thoughtlessness of character so peculiar to Rajputs, furnished abundant opportunities for the march of an exterminating policy, and, at the same time, afforded reasons which justified it.

The next combination was more formidable; it was headed by Deo Singh of Aton,^[11] who enjoyed an estate of sixty thousand rupees rent. He strongly fortified his castle, and was joined by all the discontented nobles, determined to get rid of the authority which crushed them. The regent well knew the spirits he had to cope with, and that the power of the State was insufficient. By means of ‘the help of Moses’ (such is the interpretation of Musa Madad, his auxiliary on this occasion), this struggle against his authority also only served to confirm it; and their measures recoiled on the heads of the feudality. The condition of society 1544since the dissolution of the imperial power was most adverse to the institutions of Rajwara, the unsupported valour of whose nobles was no match for the mercenary force which their rulers could now always command from those bands, belonging to no government, but roaming whither they listed over this vast region, in search of pay or plunder. The ‘help of Moses’ was the leader of one of these associations—a name well known in the history of that agitated period; and he not only led a well-appointed infantry brigade, but had an efficient park attached to it, which was brought to play against Aton. It held out several months, the garrison meanwhile making many sallies, which it required the constant vigilance of Moses to repress. At length, reduced to extremity, they demanded and obtained an honourable capitulation, being allowed to retire unmolested whither they pleased. Such was the termination of this ill-organized insurrection, which involved almost all the feudal chiefs of Kotah in exile and ruin, and strengthened the regent, or as he would say, the state, by the escheat of the sequestrated property. Deo Singh of Aton, the head of this league, died in exile. After several years of lamentation in a foreign soil for the janam bhum, the ‘land of their birth,’ the son pleaded for pardon, though his heart denied all crime, and was fortunate enough to obtain his recall, and the estate of Bamolia, of fifteen thousand rupees rent. The inferior members of the opposition were treated with the same contemptuous clemency; they were admitted into Kotah, but deprived of the power of doing mischief. What stronger proof of the political courage of the regent can be adduced, than his shutting up such combustible materials within the social edifice, and even living amongst and with them, as if he deserved their friendship rather than their hatred [526].

In combating such associations, and thus cementing his power, time passed away. His marriage with one of the distant branches of the royal house of Mewar, by whom he had his son and successor Madho Singh, gave Zalim an additional interest in the affairs of that disturbed State, of which he never lost sight amidst the troubles which more immediately concerned him. The motives which, in S. 1847 (A.D. 1791), made him consider for a time the interests of Kotah as secondary to those of Mewar, are related at length in the annals of that State;^[12] and the effect of this 1545policy on the prosperity of Kotah, drained of its wealth in the prosecution of his views, will appear on considering the details of his system. Referring the reader, therefore, to the Annals of Mewar, we shall pass from S. 1847 to S. 1856 (A.D. 1800), when another attempt was made by the chieftains to throw off the iron yoke of the protector.

Conspiracy against Zālim Singh.

—Many attempts at assassination had been tried, but his vigilance baffled them all; though no bold enterprise was hazarded since the failure of that (in S. 1833) which ended in the death and exile of its contriver, the chieftain of Aton, until the conspiracy of Mohsen, in S. 1856, just twenty years ago.^[13] Bahadur Singh, of Mohsen, a chieftain of ten thousand rupees’ annual rent, was the head of this plot, which included every chief and family whose fortunes had been annihilated by the exterminating policy of the regent. It was conducted with admirable secrecy; if known at all, it was to Zalim alone, and not till on the eve of accomplishment. The proscription-list was long; the regent, his family, his friend and counsellor the Pandit Lalaji, were amongst the victims marked for sacrifice. The moment for execution was that of his proceeding to hold his court, in open day; and the mode was by a coup de main whose very audacity would guarantee success. It is said that he was actually in progress to darbar, when the danger was revealed. The paegah or ‘select troop of horse’ belonging to his friend, and always at hand, was immediately called in and added to the guards about his person; thus the conspirators were assailed when they deemed the prey rushing into the snare they had laid. The surprise was complete; many were slain; some were taken, others fled. Amongst the latter was the head of the conspiracy, Bahadur Singh, who gained the Chambal, and took refuge in the temple of the tutelary deity of the Haras at Patan. But he mistook the character of the regent when he supposed that either the sanctuary (sarana) of Keshorai,^[14] or the respect due to the prince in whose dominions (Bundi) it lay, could shield him from his fate. He was dragged forth, and expiated his crime or folly with his life [527].

According to the apologists of the regent, this act was one of just retribution, since it was less to defend himself and his immediate 1546interests than those of the prince whose power and existence were threatened by the insurrection, which had for its object his deposal and the elevation of one of his brothers. The members of the Maharao’s family at this period were his uncle Raj Singh, and his two brothers, Gordhan and Gopal Singh. Since the rebellion of Aton, these princes had been under strict surveillance; but after this instance of reaction, in which their names were implicated as having aspired to supplant their brother, a more rigorous seclusion was adopted; and the rest of their days was passed in solitary confinement. Gordhan, the elder, died about ten years after his incarceration; the younger, Gopal, lived many years longer; but neither from that day quitted the walls of their prison, until death released them from this dreadful bondage. Kaka Raj Singh lived to extreme old age; but, as he took no part in these turmoils, he remained unmolested, having the range of the temples in the city, beyond which limits he had no wish to stray.

We may in this place introduce a slip from the genealogical tree of the forfeited branch of Bishan Singh, but which, in the person of his grandson Ajit, regained its rights and the gaddi. The fate of this family will serve as a specimen of the policy pursued by the regent towards the feudal interests of Kotah. It is appalling, when thus marshalled, to view the sacrifices which the maintenance of power will demand in these feudal States, where individual will is law.

The plots against the existence and authority of the Protector were of every description, and no less than eighteen are enumerated, which his never-slumbering vigilance detected and baffled. The means were force, open and concealed, poison, the dagger—until at length he became sick of precaution. “I could not always be on my guard,” he would say. But the most dangerous of all was a female conspiracy, got up in the palace, and which discovers an amusing mixture of tragedy and farce, although his habitual wariness would not have saved him from being its victim, had he not been aided by the boldness of a female champion, from a regard for the personal attractions of the handsome regent. He was suddenly sent for by the queen-mother of one of the young princes, and while waiting in an antechamber, expecting every instant ‘the voice behind the curtain,’ he found himself encircled by a band of Amazonian Rajputnis, armed with sword 1547and dagger, from whom, acquainted as he was with the nerve, physical and moral, of his countrywomen, he saw no hope of salvation [528]. Fortunately, they were determined not to be satisfied merely with his death, they put him upon his trial; and the train of interrogation into all the acts of his life was going on, when his preserving angel, in the shape of the chief attendant of the dowager queen, a woman of masculine strength and courage, rushed in, and, with strong dissembled anger, drove him forth amidst a torrent of abuse for presuming to be found in such a predicament.

While bathing, and during the heat of the chase, his favourite pursuit, similar attempts have been made, but they always recoiled on the heads of his enemies. Yet, notwithstanding the multitude of these plots, which would have unsettled the reason of many, he never allowed a blind suspicion to add to the victims of his policy; and although, for his personal security, he was compelled to sleep in an iron cage, he never harboured unnecessary alarm, that parent of crime and blood in all usurpations. His lynx-like eye saw at once who was likely to invade his authority, and these knew their peril from the vigilance of a system which never relaxed. Entire self-reliance, a police such as perhaps no country in the world could equal, establishments well paid, services liberally rewarded, character and talent in each department of the State, himself keeping a strict watch over all, and trusting implicitly to none, with a daily personal supervision of all this complicated state-machinery—such was the system which surmounted every peril, and not only maintained but increased the power and political reputation of Zalim Singh, amidst the storms of war, rapine, treason, and political convulsions of more than half a century’s duration.

CHAPTER 7

Legislation of Zālim Singh.

—We are now to examine the Protector in another point of view, as the legislator and manager of the State whose concerns he was thus determined to rule. For a series of years Kotah was but the wet-nurse to the child of his ambition, a design upon Mewar [529], which engulfed as in a vortex all that oppression could extort from the industry of the 1548people confided to his charge. From this first acquaintance with the court of the Rana, in S. 1827 to the year 1856, he never relinquished the hope of extending the same measure of authority over that State which he exerted in his own. To the prosecution of this policy Haraoti was sacrificed, and the cultivator lowered to the condition of a serf. In the year 1840, oppression was at its height; the impoverished ryot, no longer able to pay the extra calls upon his industry, his cattle and the implements of his labour distrained, was reduced to despair. Many died from distress; some fled, but where could they find refuge in the chaos around them? The greater part were compelled to plough for hire, with the cattle and implements once their own, the very fields, their freehold, which had been torn from them. From this system of universal impoverishment, displayed at length in unthatched villages and untilled lands, the regent was compelled to become farmer-general of Kotah.

Fortunately for his subjects, and for his own reputation, his sense of gratitude and friendship for the family of Inglia—whose head, Bala Rao, was then a prisoner in Mewar—involved him, in the attempt to obtain his release, in personal conflict with the Rana, and he was compelled to abandon for ever that long-cherished object of his ambition. It was then he perceived he had sacrificed the welfare of all classes to a phantom, and his vigorous understanding suggested a remedy, which was instantly adopted.

Superstition of Zālim Singh.

—Until the conspiracy of Mohsen in 1856, the regent had resided in the castle, acting the part of the Maire du palais of the old French monarchy; but on his return from the release of Bala Rao, in S. 1860 (A.D. 1803-4), when the successes of the British arms disturbed the combination of the Mahrattas, and obliged them to send forth their disunited bands to seek by rapine what they had lost by our conquests, the regent perceived the impolicy of such permanent residence, and determined to come nearer to the point of danger. He had a double motive, each of itself sufficiently powerful to justify the change: the first was a revision of the revenue system; the other, to seek a more central position for a disposable camp, which he might move to any point threatened by these predatory bodies. Though these were doubtless the real incentives to the project, according to those who ought to have known the secret 1549impulse of his mind, the change from the castle on the Chambal to the tented field proceeded from no more potent cause than an ominous owl [530], telling his tale to the moon from the pinnacle of his mansion. A meeting of the astrologers, and those versed in prodigies, was convened, and it was decided that it would be tempting honhar (fate) to abide longer in that dwelling. If this were the true motive, Zalim Singh’s mind only shared the grovelling superstition of the most illustrious and most courageous of his nation, to whom there was no presage more appalling than a ghugghu on the house-top. But, in all likelihood, this was a political owl conjured up for the occasion; one seen only in the mind’s eye of the regent, and serving to cloak his plans.

His Permanent Camp.

—The soothsayers having in due form desecrated the dwelling of the Protector, he commenced a perambulation and survey of the long-neglected territory, within which he determined henceforth to limit his ambition. He then saw, and perhaps felt for, the miseries his mistaken policy had occasioned; but the moral evil was consummated; he had ruined the fortunes of one-third of the agriculturists, and the rest were depressed and heart-broken. The deficiency in his revenues spoke a truth no longer to be misinterpreted; for his credit was so low in the mercantile world at this period, that his word and his bond were in equal disesteem. Hitherto he had shut his ears against complaint; but funds were necessary to forward his views, and all pleas of inability were met by confiscation. It was evident that this evil, if not checked, must ultimately denude the State of the means of defence, and the fertility of his genius presented various modes of remedy. He began by fixing upon a spot, near the strong fortress of Gagraun, for a permanent camp, where he continued to reside, with merely a shed over his tent; and although the officers and men of rank had also thrown up sheds, he would admit of nothing more. All the despatches and newspapers were dated “from the Chhaoni,” or camp.

The situation selected was most judicious, being nearly equidistant from the two principal entrances to Haraoti from the south, and touching the most insubordinate part of the Bhil population; while he was close to the strong castles of Shirgarh and Gagraun, which he strengthened with the utmost care, making the latter the depot of his treasures and his arsenal. 1550He formed an army; adopted the European arms and discipline; appointed officers with the title of captain to his battalions, which had a regular nomenclature, and his ‘royals’ (Raj Paltan) have done as gallant service as any that ever bore the name. These were ready at a moment’s warning to move to any point, against any foe. Moreover, by this change, he was extricated from many perplexities and delays which a residence in a capital necessarily engenders [531].

Land Revenue Collections.

—Up to this period of his life, having been immersed in the troubled sea of political intrigue, the Protector had no better knowledge of the systems of revenue and landed economy than other Rangra ^[1] chieftains; and he followed the immemorial usage termed lattha and batai,^[2] or rent in kind by weight or measure, in proportion to the value of the soil or of the product. The regent soon found the disadvantages of this system, which afforded opportunity for oppression on the part of the collectors, and fraud on that of the tenant, both detrimental to the government, and serving only to enrich that vulture, the Patel. When this rapacious yet indispensable medium between the peasant and ruler leagued with the collectors—and there was no control to exaction beyond the conscience of this constituted attorney of each township, either for the assessment or collection—and when, as we have so often stated, the regent cared not for the means so that the supplies were abundant, nothing but ruin could ensue to the ryot.

Having made himself master of the complicated details of the batai, and sifted every act of chicanery by the most inquisitorial process, he convoked all the Patels of the country, and took their depositions as to the extent of each pateli, their modes of collection, their credit, character, and individual means; and being thus enabled to form a rough computation of the size and revenues of each, he recommenced his tour, made a chakbandi, or measurement of the lands of each township, and classified them, according to soil and fertility, as piwal, or irrigated; gorma, or good soil, but dependent on the heavens; and mormi, including pasturage and mountain-tracts. He then, having formed an average from the accounts of many years, instituted a fixed money-rent, and 1551declared that the batai system, or that of payment in kind, was at an end. But even in this he showed severity; for he reduced the jarib,^[3] or standard measure, by a third, and added a fourth to his averages. Doubtless he argued that the profit which the Patels looked forward to would admit of this increase, and determined that his vigilance should be more than a match for their ingenuity.

Having thus adjusted the rents of the fisc, the dues of the Patel were fixed at one and a half annas per bigha, on all the lands constituting a pateli; and as his personal lands were on a favoured footing and paid a much smaller rate than the ryot’s, he was led to understand that any exaction beyond what was authorized would subject him to confiscation. Thus the dues on collection would realize to the Patel from five to fifteen thousand rupees annually. The anxiety of these men to be reinstated in their trusts [532] was evinced by the immense offers they made, of ten, twenty, and even fifty thousand rupees. At one stroke he put ten lakhs, or £100,000 sterling, into his exhausted treasury, by the amount of nazaranas, or fines of relief on their reinduction into office. The ryot hoped for better days; for notwithstanding the assessment was heavy, he saw the limit of exaction, and that the door was closed to all subordinate oppression. Besides the spur of hope, he had that of fear, to quicken his exertions; for with the promulgation of the edict substituting money-rent for batai, the ryot was given to understand that 'no account of the seasons’ would alter or lessen the established dues of the State, and that uncultivated lands would be made over by the Patel to those who would cultivate them; or if none would take them, they would be incorporated with the khas or personal farms of the regent. In all cases the Patels were declared responsible for deficiencies of revenue.

Hitherto this body of men had an incentive, if not a licence, to plunder, being subject to an annual or triennial tax termed patel-barar. This was annulled; and it was added, that if they fulfilled their contract with the State without oppressing the subject, they should be protected and honoured. Thus these Patels, the elected representatives of the village and the shields 1552of the ryot, became the direct officers of the crown. It was the regent’s interest to conciliate a body of men on whose exertions the prosperity of the State mainly depended; and they gladly and unanimously entered into his views. Golden bracelets and turbans, the signs of inauguration, were given, with a “grant of office,” to each Patel, and they departed to their several trusts.

Possibility of Representative Government.

—A few reflections obtrude themselves on the contemplation of such a picture. It will hardly fail to strike the reader, how perfect are the elements for the formation of a representative government in these regions;^[4] for every State of Rajwara is similarly constituted; ex uno disce omnes. The Patels would only require to be joined by the representatives of the commercial body, and these are already formed, of Rajput blood, deficient neither in nerve nor political sagacity, compared with any class on earth; often composing the ministry, or heading the armies in battle. It is needless to push the parallel farther; but if it is the desire of Britain to promote this system in the east to enthrone liberty on the ruins of bondage, and call forth the energies of a grand national Panchayat, the materials are ample without the risk of innovation beyond the mere extent of members. We should have the aristocratic Thakurs (the Rajput barons), the men of wealth, and the representatives of agriculture, to [533] settle the limits and maintain the principles of their ancient patriarchal system. A code of criminal and civil law, perfectly adequate, could be compiled from their sacred books, their records on stone, or traditional customs, and sufficient might be deducted from the revenues of the State to maintain municipal forces, which could unite if public safety were endangered, while the equestrian order would furnish all State parade, and act as a movable army.

A Revenue Board.

—But to return to our subject. Out of this numerous body of Patels, Zalim selected four of the most intelligent and experienced, of whom he formed a council attached to the Presence. At first their duties were confined to matters of revenue; soon those of police were superadded, and at length no matter of internal regulation was transacted without their advice. In all cases of doubtful decision they were the court of 1553appeal from provincial panchayats, and even from those of the cities and the capital itself. Thus they performed the threefold duties of a board of revenue, of justice, and of police, and perhaps throughout the world there never was a police like that of Zalim Singh: there was not one Fouché, but four; and a net of espionage was spread over the country, out of whose meshes nothing could escape.

Such was the Patel system of Kotah. A system so rigid had its alloy of evil; the veil of secrecy, so essential to commercial pursuits, was rudely drawn aside; every transaction was exposed to the regent, and no man felt safe from the inquisitorial visits of the spies of this council. A lucky speculation was immediately reported, and the regent hastened to share in the success of the speculator. Alarm and disgust were the consequence; the spirit of trade was damped; none were assured of the just returns of their industry; but there was no security elsewhere, and at Kotah only the Protector dared to injure them.

The council of Venice was not more arbitrary than the Patel board of Kotah; even the ministers saw the sword suspended over their heads, while they were hated as much as feared by all but the individual who recognized their utility.

It would be imagined that with a council so vigilant the regent would feel perfectly secure. Not so: he had spies over them. In short, to use the phrase of one of his ministers—a man of acute perception and powerful understanding, when talking of the vigour of his mental vision—when his physical organs had failed, pani pina, aur mut tolna, which we will not translate.

The Bohra.

—The Patel, now the virtual master of the peasantry, was aware that fine and confiscation would follow the discovery of direct oppression of the ryots; but there were [534] many indirect modes by which he could attain his object, and he took the most secure, the medium of their necessities. Hitherto, the impoverished husbandman had his wants supplied by the Bohra, the sanctioned usurer of each village; now, the privileged Patel usurped his functions, and bound him by a double chain to his purposes. But we must explain the functions of the Bohra, in order to show the extent of subordination in which the ryot was placed.

The Bohra of Rajputana is the Métayer of the ancient system of France. He furnishes the cultivator with whatever he requires 1554for his pursuits, whether cattle, implements, or seed; and supports him and his family throughout the season until the crop is ready for the sickle, when a settlement of accounts takes place. This is done in two ways: either by a cash payment, with stipulated interest according to the risk previously agreed upon; or, more commonly, by a specified share of the crop, in which the Bohra takes the risk of bad seasons with the husbandman. The utility of such a person under an oppressive government, where the ryot can store up nothing for the future, may readily be conceived; he is, in fact, indispensable. Mutual honesty is required; for extortion on the part of the Bohra would lose him his clients, and dishonesty on that of the peasant would deprive him of his only resource against the sequestration of his patrimony. Accordingly, this monied middleman enjoyed great consideration, being regarded as the patron of the husbandman. Every peasant had his particular Bohra, and not unfrequently from the adjacent village in preference to his own.

Such was the state of things when the old system of lattha batai was commuted for bighoti, a specific money-rent apportioned to the area of the land. The Patel, now tied down to the simple duties of collection, could touch nothing but his dues, unless he leagued with or overturned the Bohra; and in either case there was risk from the lynx-eyed scrutiny of the regent. They, accordingly, adopted the middle course of alarming his cupidity, which the following expedient effected. When the crop was ripe, the peasant would demand permission to cut it. “Pay your rent first,” was the reply. The Bohra was applied to; but his fears had been awakened by a caution not to lend money to one on whom the government had claims. There was no alternative but to mortgage to the harpy Patel a portion of the produce of his fields. This was the precise point at which he aimed; he took the crop at his own valuation, and gave his receipt that the dues of government were satisfied; demanding a certificate to the effect “that having no funds forthcoming [535] when the rent was required, and being unable to raise it, the mortgager voluntarily assigned, at a fair valuation, a share of the produce.” In this manner did the Patels hoard immense quantities of grain, and as Kotah became the granary of Rajputana, they accumulated great wealth, while the peasant, never able to reckon on the fruits of his industry, was depressed and impoverished. The 1555regent could not long be kept in ignorance of these extortions; but the treasury overflowed, and he did not sufficiently heed the miseries occasioned by a system which added fresh lands by sequestration to the home farms, now the object of his especial solicitude.

Suppression of the Patel System.

—Matters proceeded thus until the year 1867 (A.D. 1811), when, like a clap of thunder, mandates of arrest were issued, and every Patel in Kotah was placed in fetters, and his property under the seal of the State; the ill-gotten wealth, as usual, flowing into the exchequer of the Protector. Few escaped heavy fines; one only was enabled altogether to evade the vigilance of the police, and he had wisely remitted his wealth, to the amount of seven lakhs, or £70,000, to a foreign country; and from this individual case, a judgment may be formed of the prey these cormorants were compelled to disgorge.

It is to be inferred that the regent must have well weighed the present good against the evil he incurred, in destroying in one moment the credit and efficacy of such an engine of power as the Pateli system he had established. The Council of Four maintained their post, notwithstanding the humiliated condition of their compeers; though their influence could not fail to be weakened by the discredit attached to the body. The system Zalim had so artfully introduced being thus entirely disorganized, he was induced to push still further the resources of his energetic mind, by the extension of his personal farms. In describing the formation and management of these, we shall better portray the character of the regent than by the most laboured summary; the acts will paint the man.

Before, however, we enter upon this singular part of his history, it is necessary to develop the ancient agricultural system of Haraoti, to which he returned when the pateli was broken up. In the execution of this design, we must speak both of the soil and the occupants, whose moral estimation in the minds of their rulers must materially influence their legislative conduct.

The ryot of India, like the progenitor of all tillers of the earth, bears the brand of vengeance on his forehead; for as Cain was cursed by the Almighty, so were the cultivators of India by Ramachandra, as a class whom no lenity could render honest or 1556[536] contented. When the hero of Ayodhya left his kingdom for Lanka, he enjoined his minister to foster the ryots, that he might hear no complaints on his return. Aware of the fruitlessness of the attempt, yet determined to guard against all just cause of complaint, the minister reversed the mauna, or grain measure, taking the share of the crown from the smaller end, exactly one-half of what was sanctioned by immemorial usage. When Rama returned, the cultivators assembled in bodies at each stage of his journey, and complained of the innovations of the minister. “What had he done?” “Reversed the mauna.” The monarch dismissed them with his curse, as “a race whom no favour could conciliate, and who belonged to no one”; a phrase which to this hour is proverbial, 'ryot kisi ka nahin hai'; and the sentence is confirmed by the historians of Alexander, who tell us that they lived unmolested amidst all intestine wars; that “they only till the ground and pay tribute to the king,” enjoying an amnesty from danger when the commonwealth suffered, which must tend to engender a love of soil more than patriotism.^[5] It would appear as if the regent of Kotah had availed himself of the anathema of Rama in his estimation of the moral virtues of his subjects, who were Helots in condition if not in name.

Modes of realizing Land-Rent.

—We proceed to the modes of realizing the dues of the State, in which the character and condition of the peasant will be further developed. There are four modes of levying the land-tax, three of which are common throughout Rajwara; the fourth is more peculiar to Haraoti and Mewar. The first and most ancient is that of batai, or ‘payment in kind,’ practised before metallic currency was invented. The system of batai extends, however, only to corn; for sugar-cane, cotton, hemp, poppy, al, kusumbha,^[6] ginger, turmeric, and other dyes and drugs, and all garden stuffs, pay a rent in money. This rent was arbitrary and variable, according to the necessities or justice of the ruler. In both countries five to ten rupees per bigha are demanded for sugar-cane; three to five for cotton, poppy, hemp, and oil-plant; and two to four for the rest. But when heaven was bounteous, avarice and oppression rose in their demands, and 1557seventy rupees per bigha were exacted for the sugar-cane, thus paralysing the industry of the cultivator, and rendering abortive the beneficence of the Almighty.

1st. The unalu, or ‘summer harvest,’ when wheat, barley, and a variety of pulses, as gram, moth, mung, til,^[7] are raised. The share of the State in these varies with the fertility of the soil, from one-fourth, one-third, and two-fifths, to one-half—the extreme fractions being the maximum and minimum; those of one-third and two-fifths [537] are the most universally admitted as the share of the crown. But besides this, there are dues to the artificers and mechanics, whose labour to the village is compensated by a share of the harvest from each cultivator; which allowances reduce the portion of the latter to one-half of the gross produce of his industry, which if he realize, he is contented and thrives.

The second harvest is the siyalu, or ‘autumnal,’ and consists of makkai or bhutta (Indian corn), of juar, bajra, the two chief kinds of maize,^[8] and til or sesamum, with other small seeds, such as kangni,^[9] with many of the pulses. Of all these, one-half is exacted by the State.

Such is the system of batai; let us describe that of kut.^[10] Kut^[11] is the conjectural estimate of the quantity of the standing crop on a measured surface, by the officers of the government in conjunction with the proprietors, when the share of the State is converted into cash at the average rate of the day, and the peasant is debited the amount. So exactly can those habitually exercised in this method estimate the quantity of grain produced on a given surface, that they seldom err beyond one-twentieth 1558part of the crop. Should, however, the cultivator deem his crop over-estimated, he has the power to cut and weigh it; and this is termed lattha.

The third is a tax in money, according to admeasurement of the field, assessed previously to cultivation.

None of these modes is free from objection. That of kut, or conjectural estimate of the standing crop, is, however, liable to much greater abuse than lattha, or measurement of the grain. In the first case, it is well known that by a bribe to the officer, he will kut a field at ten maunds, which may realize twice the quantity; for the chief guarantees to honesty are fear of detection, and instinctive morality; feeble safeguards, even in more civilized States than Rajwara. If he be so closely watched that he must make a fair kut, or estimate, he will still find means to extort money from the ryot, one of which is, by procrastinating the estimate when the ear is ripe, and when every day’s delay is a certain loss. In short, a celebrated superintendent of a district, of great credit both for zeal and honesty [538], confessed, “We are like tailors; we can cheat you to your face, and you cannot perceive it.” The ryot prefers the kut; the process is soon over, and he has done with the government; but in lattha, the means are varied to perplex and cheat it; beginning with the reaping, when, with a liberal hand, they leave something for the gleaner; then, a “tithe for the khurpi, or 'sickle'”; then, the thrashing; and though they muzzle the ox who treads out the corn, they do not their own mouths, or those of their family. Again, if not convertible into coin, they are debited and allowed to store it up, and “the rats are sure to get into the pits.” In both cases the shahnahs, or field-watchmen, are appointed to watch the crops, as soon as the ear begins to fill; yet all is insufficient to check the system of pillage; for the ryot and his family begin to feed upon the heads of Indian corn and millet the moment they afford the least nourishment. The shahnah, receiving his emoluments from the husbandman as well as from the crown, inclines more to his fellow-citizen; and it is asserted that one-fourth of the crop, and even a third, is frequently made away with before the share of the government can be fixed.

Yet the system of lattha was pursued by the regent before he commenced that of pateli, which has no slight analogy to the 1559permanent system of Bengal,^[12] and was attended with similar results,—distress, confiscation, and sale, to the utter exclusion of the hereditary principle, the very corner-stone of Hindu society.

CHAPTER 8

The Farming Monopoly.

—Let us proceed with the most prominent feature of the regent’s internal administration—his farming monopoly—to which he is mainly indebted for the reputation he [539] enjoys throughout Rajputana. The superficial observer, who can with difficulty find a path through the corn-fields which cover the face of Haraoti, will dwell with rapture upon the effects of a system in which he discovers nothing but energy and efficiency: he cannot trace the remote causes of this deceptive prosperity, which originated in moral and political injustice. It was because his own tyranny had produced unploughed fields and deserted villages, starving husbandmen and a diminishing population; it was with the distrained implements and cattle of his subjects, and in order to prevent the injurious effects of so much waste land upon the revenue, that Zalim commenced a system which has made him farmer-general of Haraoti; and he has carried it to an astonishing extent. There is not a nook or a patch in Haraoti where grain can be produced which his ploughs do not visit. Forests have disappeared; even the barren rocks have been covered with exotic soil, and the mountain’s side, inaccessible to the plough, is turned up with a spud, and compelled to yield a crop.

In S. 1840 (A.D. 1784), Zalim possessed only two or three hundred ploughs, which in a few years increased to eight hundred. At the commencement of what they term the new era (naya samvat) in the history of landed property of Kotah, the introduction of the pateli system, the number was doubled; and at the 1560present time ^[1] no less than four thousand ploughs, of double yoke, employing sixteen thousand oxen, are used in the farming system of this extraordinary man; to which may be added one thousand more ploughs and four thousand oxen employed on the estates of the prince and the different members of his family.

This is the secret of the Raj Rana’s power and reputation; and to the wealth extracted from her soil, Kotah owes her preservation from the ruin which befell the States around her during the convulsions of the last half-century, when one after another sank into decay. But although sagacity marks the plan, and unexampled energy superintends its details, we must, on examining the foundations of the system either morally or politically, pronounce its effects a mere paroxysm of prosperity, arising from stimulating causes which present no guarantee of permanence. Despotism has wrought this magic effect: there is not one, from the noble to the peasant, who has not felt, and who does not still feel, its presence. When the arm of the octogenarian Protector shall be withdrawn, and the authority transferred to his son, who possesses none of the father’s energies, then will the impolicy of the system become apparent. It [540] was from the sequestrated estates of the valiant Hara chieftain, and that grinding oppression which thinned Haraoti of its agricultural population, and left the lands waste, that the regent found scope for his genius. The fields, which had descended from father to son through the lapse of ages, the unalienable right of the peasant, were seized, in spite of law, custom, or tradition, on every defalcation; and it is even affirmed that he sought pretexts to obtain such lands as from their contiguity or fertility he coveted, and that hundreds were thus deprived of their inheritance. In vain we look for the peaceful hamlets which once studded Haraoti: we discern instead the ori, or farmhouse of the regent, which would be beautiful were it not erected on the property of the subject; but when we inquire the ratio which the cultivators bear to the cultivation, and the means of enjoyment this artificial system has left them, and find that the once independent proprietor, who claimed a sacred right of inheritance,^[2] now ploughs like a serf the fields 1561formerly his own, all our perceptions of moral justice are shocked.

The love of country and the passion for possessing land are strong throughout Rajputana: while there is a hope of existence the cultivator clings to the bapota, and in Haraoti this amor patriae is so invincible, that, to use their homely phrase, “he would rather fill his pet in slavery there, than live in luxury abroad.” But where could they fly to escape oppression? All around was desolation; armies perambulated the country, with rapid strides, in each other’s train, “one to another still succeeding.” To this evil Kotah was comparatively a stranger; the Protector was the only plunderer within his domains. Indeed, the inhabitants of the surrounding States, from the year 1865, when rapine was at its height, flocked into Kotah, and filled up the chasm which oppression had produced in the population. But with the banishment of predatory war, and the return of industry to its own field of exertion, this panacea for the wounds which the ruler has inflicted will disappear; and although the vast resources of the regent’s mind may check the appearance of decay, while his faculties survive to superintend this vast and complicated system, it must ultimately, from the want of a principle of permanence, fall into rapid disorganization. We proceed to the details [541] of the system, which will afford fresh proofs of the talent, industry, and vigilance of this singular character.

Agriculture in Kotah.

—The soil of Kotah is a rich tenacious mould, resembling the best parts of lower Malwa. The single plough is unequal to breaking it up, and the regent has introduced the plough of double yoke from the Konkan. His cattle are of the first quality, and equally fit for the park or the plough. 1562He purchases at all the adjacent fairs, chiefly in his own dominions, and at the annual mela (fair) of his favourite city Jhalrapatan.^[3] He has tried those of Marwar and of the desert, famed for a superior race of cattle; but he found that the transition from their sandy regions to the deep loam of Haraoti soon disabled them.

Each plough or team is equal to the culture of one hundred bighas; consequently 4000 ploughs will cultivate 400,000 during each harvest, and for both 800,000, nearly 300,000 English acres. The soil is deemed poor which does not yield seven to ten maunds ^[4] of wheat per bigha, and five to seven of millet and Indian corn. But to take a very low estimate, and allowing for bad seasons, we may assume four maunds per bigha as the average produce (though double would not be deemed an exaggerated average): this will give 3,200,000 maunds of both products, wheat and millet, and the proportion of the former to the latter is as three to two. Let us estimate the value of this. In seasons of abundance, twelve rupees per mauni,^[5] in equal quantities of both grains, is the average; at this time (July 1820), notwithstanding the preceding season has been a failure throughout Rajwara (though there was a prospect of an excellent one), and grain a dead weight, eighteen rupees per mauni is the current price, and may be quoted as the average standard of Haraoti: above is approximating to dearness, and below to the reverse. But if we take the average of the year of actual plenty, or twelve rupees ^[6] per mauni of equal quantities of wheat and juar, or one rupee per maund, the result is thirty-two lakhs of rupees annual income.

Let us endeavour to calculate how much of this becomes net produce towards the expenses of the government, and it will be seen that the charges are about one-third gross amount [542].

We do not presume to give this, or even the gross amount, as more than an approximation to the truth; but the regent himself has mentioned that in one year the casualties in oxen amounted to five thousand! We have allowed one-fourth, for an ox will work well seven years, if taken care of. Thus, on the lowest scale, supposing the necessities of the government required the grain to be sold in the year it was raised, twenty lakhs will be the net profit of the regent’s farms. But he has abundant resources without being forced into the market before the favourable moment; until when, the produce is hoarded up in subterranean granaries. Everything in these regions is simple, yet efficient: we will describe the grain-pits.

Storage of Grain.

—These pits or trenches are fixed on elevated dry spots; their size being according to the nature of the soil. All the preparation they undergo is the incineration of certain vegetable substances, and lining the sides and bottom with wheat or barley stubble. The grain is then deposited in the pit, covered over with straw, and a terrace of earth, about eighteen inches in height, and projecting in front beyond the orifice of the pit, is raised over it. This is secured with a coating of clay and cow-dung, which resists even the monsoon, and is renewed as the torrents injure it. Thus the grain may remain for years without injury, while the heat which is extricated checks germination, and deters rats and white ants. Thus the regent has seldom less 1564than fifty lakhs of maunds in various parts of the country, and it is on emergencies, or in bad seasons, that these stores see the light; when, instead of twelve rupees, the mauni runs as high as forty, or the famine price of sixty. Then these pits are mines of gold; the regent having frequently sold in one year sixty lakhs of maunds. In S. 1860 (or A.D. 1804), during the Mahratta war, when Holkar was in the Bharatpur State, and predatory armies were moving in every direction, and when famine and war [543] conjoined to desolate the country, Kotah fed the whole population of Rajwara, and supplied all these roving hordes. In that season, grain being fifty-five rupees per mauni, he sold to the enormous amount of one crore of rupees, or a million sterling!

Reputable merchants of the Mahajan tribe refrain from speculating in grain, from the most liberal feelings, esteeming it dharm nahin hai, ‘a want of charity.’ The humane Jain merchant says, “to hoard up grain, for the purpose of taking advantage of human misery, may bring riches, but never profit.”

According to the only accessible documents, the whole crown-revenue of Kotah from the tax in kind, amounted, under bad management, to twenty-five lakhs of rupees. This is all the regent admits he collects from (to use his own phrase) his handful (pachiwara) of soil: of course he does not include his own farming system, but only the amount raised from the cultivator. He confesses that two-thirds of the superficial area of Kotah were waste; but that this is now reversed, there being two-thirds cultivated, and only one-third waste, and this comprises mountain, forest, common, etc.

Extortionate Taxes.

—In S. 1865 (A.D. 1809), as if industry were not already sufficiently shackled, the regent established a new tax on all corn exported from his dominions. It was termed lattha, and amounted to a rupee and a half per mauni. This tax—not less unjust in origin than vexatious in operation—worse than even the infamous gabelle, or the droit d’aubaine of France—was another fruit of monopoly. It was at first confined to the grower, though of course it fell indirectly on the consumer; but the Jagatya,^[9] or chief collector of the customs, a man after the regent’s own heart, was so pleased with its efficiency on the very first trial, that he advised his master to push it farther, and it 1565was accordingly levied as well on the farmer as the purchaser. An item of ten lakhs was at once added to the budget; and as if this were insufficient to stop all competition between the regent-farmer-general and his subjects, three, four, nay even five latthas, have been levied from the same grain before it was retailed for consumption. Kotah exhibited the picture of a people, if not absolutely starving, yet living in penury in the midst of plenty. Neither the lands of his chiefs nor those of his ministers were exempt from the operation of this tax, and all were at the mercy of the Jagatya, from whose arbitrary will there was no appeal. It had reached the very height of oppression about the period of the alliance with the British Government. This collector had become a part of his system; and if the regent required a few lakhs of ready money, Jo hukm, ‘your commands,’ was the reply. A list was made out of 'arrears of lattha,' and friend and foe, minister, banker, trader, and farmer, had a circular. Remonstrance was not only vain but [544] dangerous: even his ancient friend, the Pandit Balal, had twenty-five thousand rupees to pay in one of these schedules; the homme d’affaires of one of his confidential chiefs, five thousand; his own foreign minister a share, and many bankers of the town, four thousand, five thousand, and ten thousand each. The term lattha was an abuse of language for a forced contribution; in fact the obnoxious and well-known dand of Rajwara. It alienated the minds of all men, and nearly occasioned the regent’s ruin; for scarcely was their individual sympathy expressed, when the Hara princes conspired to emancipate themselves from his interminable and galling protection.

When the English Government came in contact with Rajwara, it was a primary principle of the universal protective alliance to proclaim that it was for the benefit of the governed as well as the governors, since it availed little to destroy the wolves without if they were consigned to the lion within. But there are and must be absurd inconsistencies, even in the policy of western legislators, where one set of principles is applied to all. Zalim soon discovered that the fashion of the day was to parwarish, ‘foster the ryot.’ The odious character of the tax was diminished, and an edict limited its operation to the farmer, the seller, and the purchaser; and so anxious was he to conceal this weapon of oppression, that the very name of lattha was abolished, and 1566sawai hasil, or ‘extraordinaries,’ substituted. This item is said still to amount to five lakhs of rupees.

Thus did the skill and rigid system of the regent exact from his pachiwara of soil, full fifty lakhs of rupees. We must also recollect that nearly five more are to be added on account of the household lands of the members of his own and the prince’s family, which is almost sufficient to cover their expenses.

What will the European practical farmer, of enlarged means and experience, think of the man who arranged this complicated system, and who, during forty years, has superintended its details? What opinion will he form of his vigour of mind, who, at the age of fourscore years, although blind and palsied, still superintends and maintains this system? What will he think of the tenacity of memory, which bears graven thereon, as on a tablet, an account of all these vast depositories of grain, with their varied contents, many of them the store of years past; and the power to check the slightest errors of the intendant of this vast accumulation; while, at the same time, he regulates the succession of crops throughout this extensive range? Such is the minute topographical knowledge which the regent possesses of his country, that every field in every farm is familiar [545] to him; and woe to the superintendent Havaldar ^[10] if he discovers a fallow nook that ought to bear a crop.

Yet vast as this system is, overwhelming as it would seem to most minds, it formed but a part of the political engine conducted and kept in action by his single powers. The details of his administration, internal as well as external, demanded unremitted vigilance. The formation, the maintenance, and discipline of an army of twenty thousand men, his fortresses, arsenals, and their complicated minutiae, were amply sufficient for one mind. The daily account from his police, consisting of several hundred emissaries, besides the equally numerous reports from the head of each district, would have distracted an ordinary head, “for the winds could not enter and leave Haraoti without being reported.” But when, in addition to all this, it is known that the regent was a practical merchant, a speculator in exchanges, that he encouraged the mechanical arts, fostered foreign industry, pursued even horticulture, and, to use his own words, “considered no trouble thrown away which made the rupee return sixteen and 1567a half annas, with whom can he be compared?”^[11] Literature, philosophy, and excerptae from the grand historical epics, were the amusements of his hours of relaxation; but here we anticipate, for we have not yet finished the review of his economical character. His monopolies, especially that of grain, not only influenced his own market, but affected all the adjacent countries; and when speculation in opium ran to such a demoralizing excess in consequence of the British Government monopolizing the entire produce of the poppy cultivated throughout Malwa, he took advantage of the mania, and by his sales or purchases raised or depressed the market at pleasure. His gardens, scattered throughout the country, still supply the markets of the towns and capital with vegetables, and his forests furnish them with fuel.

So rigid was his system of taxation that nothing escaped it. There was a heavy tax on widows who remarried. Even the gourd of the mendicant paid a tithe, and the ascetic in his cell had a domiciliary visit to ascertain the gains of mendicity, in order that a portion should go to the exigencies of the State. The tumba barar, or ‘gourd-tax,’ was abolished after forming for a twelvemonth part of the fiscal code of Haraoti, and then not through any scruples of the regent, but to satisfy his friends. Akin to this, and even of a lower grade, was the jharu barar, or ‘broom-tax,’ which continued for ten years; but the many lampoons it provoked from the satirical Bhat operated on the more sensitive feelings of his son, Madho Singh, who obtained its repeal [546].

Zālim Singh and the Bards.

—Zalim was no favourite with the bards; and that he had little claim to their consideration may be inferred from the following anecdote. A celebrated rhymer was reciting some laudatory stanzas, which the regent received rather coldly, observing with a sneer that “they told nothing but lies, though he should be happy to listen to their effusions when truth was the foundation.” The poet replied that “he found truth a most unmarketable commodity; nevertheless, he had some of that at his service”; and stipulating for forgiveness if they offended, he gave the protector his picture in a string of improvised stanzas, so full of vish (poison), that the lands of the whole fraternity were resumed, and none of the order have ever since been admitted to his presence.

1568Though rigid in his observance of the ceremonies of religion, and sharing in the prevailing superstitions of his country, he never allows the accidental circumstance of birth or caste to affect his policy. Offences against the State admit of no indemnity, be the offender a Brahman or a bard; and if these classes engage in trade, they experience no exemption from imposts.

Such is an outline of the territorial arrangements of the regent Zalim Singh. When power was assigned to him, he found the State limited to Kelwara on the east; he has extended it to the verge of the Plateau, and the fortress which guards its ascent, at first rented from the Mahrattas, is now by treaty his own. He took possession of the reins of power with an empty treasury and thirty-two lakhs of accumulating debt. He found the means of defence a few dilapidated fortresses, and a brave but unmanageable feudal army. He has, at an immense cost, put the fortresses into the most complete state of defence, and covered their ramparts with many hundred pieces of cannon; and he has raised and maintains, in lieu of about four thousand Hara cavaliers, an army—regular we may term it—of twenty thousand men, distributed into battalions, a park of one hundred pieces of cannon, with about one thousand good horse, besides the feudal contingents.

But is this prosperity? Is this the greatness which the Raja Guman intended should be entailed upon his successors, his chiefs, and his subjects? Was it to entertain twenty thousand mercenary soldiers from the sequestrated fields of the illustrious Hara, the indigenous proprietor? Is this government, is it good government according to the ideas of more civilized nations, to extend taxation to its limit, in order to maintain this cumbrous machinery. We may admit that, for a time, such a system may have been requisite, not only for the maintenance of his delegated [547] power, but to preserve the State from predatory spoliation; and now, could we see the noble restored to his forfeited estates, and the ryot to his hereditary rood of land, we should say that Zalim Singh had been an instrument in the hand of Providence for the preservation of the rights of the Haras. But, as it is, whilst the corn which waves upon the fertile surface of Kotah presents not the symbol of prosperity, neither is his well-paid and well-disciplined army a sure means of defence; moral propriety 1569has been violated; rights are in abeyance, and until they be restored, even the apparent consistency of the social fabric is obtained by means which endanger its security.

CHAPTER 9

Foreign Policy of Zālim Singh.

—The foregoing reflections bring us back to political considerations, and these we must separate into two branches, the foreign and domestic. We purposely invert the discussion of these topics for the sake of convenience.

Zalim’s policy was to create, as regarded himself, a kind of balance of power; to overawe one leader by his influence with another, yet, by the maintenance of a good understanding with all, to prevent individual umbrage, while his own strength was at all times sufficient to make the scale preponderate in his favour.

Placed in the very heart of India, Kotah was for years the centre around which revolved the desultory armies, or ambulant governments, ever strangers to repose; and though its wealth could not fail to attract the cupidity of these vagabond powers, yet, by the imposing attitude which he assumed, Zalim Singh maintained, during more than half a century, the respect, the fear, and even the esteem of all; and Kotah alone, throughout this lengthened period, so full of catastrophes, never saw an enemy [548] at her gates. Although an epoch of perpetual change and political convulsion—armies destroyed, States overturned, famine and pestilence often aiding moral causes in desolating the land—yet did the regent, from the age of twenty-five to eighty-two,^[1] by his sagacity, his energy, his moderation, his prudence, conduct the bark intrusted to his care through all the shoals and dangers which beset her course. It may not excite surprise that he was unwilling to relinquish the helm when the vessel was moored in calm waters; or, when the unskilful owner, forgetting these tempests, and deeming his own science 1570equal to the task, demanded the surrender, that he should hoist the flag of defiance.

There was not a court in Rajwara, not even the predatory governments, which was not in some way influenced by his opinions, and often guided by his councils. At each he had envoys, and when there was a point to gain, there were irresistible arguments in reserve to secure it. The necessities, the vanities, and weaknesses of man he could enlist on his side, and he was alternately, by adoption, the father, uncle, or brother of every person in power during this eventful period, from the prince upon the throne to the brat of a Pindari. He frequently observed that “none knew the shifts he had been put to”; and when entreated not to use expressions of humility, which were alike unsuited to his age and station, and the reverence he compelled, he would reply, “God grant you long life, but it is become a habit.” For the last ten years he not only made his connexion with Amir Khan subservient to avoiding a collision with Holkar, but converted the Khan into the make-weight of his balance of power; “he thanked God the time was past when he had to congratulate even the slave of a Turk on a safe accouchement, and to pay for this happiness.”

Though by nature irascible, impetuous, and proud, he could bend to the extreme of submission. But while he would, by letter or conversation, say to a marauding Pindari or Pathan, “let me petition to your notice,” or “if my clodpole understanding (bhumia buddh) is worth consulting”; or reply to a demand for a contribution, coupled with a threat of inroad, “that the friendly epistle had been received; that he lamented the writer’s distresses, etc. etc.,” with a few thousand more than was demanded, and a present to the messenger, he would excite a feeling which at least obtained a respite; on the other hand, he was always prepared to repel aggression, and if a single action would have decided his quarrel, he would not have hesitated to engage any power in the circle. But he knew even success, in such a case, to be ruin, and the general [549] feature of his external policy was accordingly of a temporizing and very mixed nature. Situated as he was, amidst conflicting elements, he had frequently a double game to play. Thus, in the coalition of 1806-7, against Jodhpur, he had three parties to please, each requesting his aid, which made neutrality almost impossible. He sent envoys to 1571all; and while appearing as the universal mediator, he gave assistance to none.

It would be vain as well as useless to attempt the details of his foreign policy; we shall merely allude to the circumstances which first brought him in contact with the British Government, in A.D. 1803-4, and then proceed to his domestic administration.

Monson’s Campaign. Gallantry of the Koila Chief.

—When the ill-fated expedition under Monson traversed Central India to the attack of Holkar, the regent of Kotah, trusting to the invincibility of the British arms, did not hesitate, upon their appearance within his territory, to co-operate both with supplies and men. But when the British army retreated, and its commander demanded admission within the walls of Kotah, he met a decided and very proper refusal. “You shall not bring anarchy and a disorganized army to mix with my peaceable citizens; but draw up your battalions under my walls; I will furnish provisions, and I will march the whole of my force between you and the enemy, and bear the brunt of his attack.” Such were Zalim’s own expressions; whether it would have been wise to accede to his proposal is not the point of discussion. Monson continued his disastrous flight through the Bundi and Jaipur dominions, and carried almost alone the news of his disgrace to the illustrious Lake. It was natural he should seek to palliate his error by an attempt to involve others; and amongst those thus calumniated, first and foremost was the regent of Kotah, “the head and front of whose offending”—non-admission to a panic-struck, beef-eating army within his walls—was translated into treachery, and a connivance with the enemy; a calumny which long subsisted to the prejudice of the veteran politician. But never was there a greater wrong inflicted, or a more unjust return for services and sacrifices, both in men and money, in a cause which little concerned him; and it nearly operated hurtfully, at a period (1817) when the British Government could not have dispensed with his aid. It was never told, it is hardly yet known at this distant period, what devotion he evinced in that memorable retreat, as it is misnamed, when the troops of Kotah and the corps of the devoted Lucan were sacrificed to ensure the safety of the army until it left the Mukunddarra Pass in its rear. If there be any incredulous supporter of the commander in that era of our shame, let him repair to the altar of the Koila chief, who, like a 1572true Hara, ‘spread his carpet’ at the ford of the Amjar, and there awaited the myrmidons [550] of the Mahrattas, and fell protecting the flight of an army which might have passed from one end of India to the other. Well might the veteran allude to our ingratitude in 1804, when in A.D. 1817 he was called upon to co-operate in the destruction of that predatory system, in withstanding which he had passed a life of feverish anxiety. If there was a doubt of the part he acted, if the monuments of the slain will not be admitted as evidence, let us appeal to the opinion of the enemy, whose testimony adds another feature to the portrait of this extraordinary man.

Besides the Koila chief, and many brave Haras, slain on the retreat of Monson, the Bakhshi, or commander of the force, was made prisoner. As the price of his liberation, and as a punishment for the aid thus given to the British, the Mahratta leader exacted a bond of ten lakhs of rupees from the Bakhshi, threatening on refusal to lay waste with fire and sword the whole line of pursuit. But when the discomfited Bakhshi appeared before the regent, he spurned him from his presence, disavowed his act, and sent him back to Holkar to pay the forfeiture as he might.^[2] Holkar satisfied himself then with threatening vengeance, and when opportunity permitted, he marched into Haraoti and encamped near the capital. The walls were manned to receive him; the signal had been prepared which would not have left a single house inhabited in the plains, while the Bhils would simultaneously pour down from the hills on Holkar’s supplies or followers. The bond was again presented, and without hesitation disavowed; hostilities appeared inevitable, when the friends of both parties concerted an interview. But Zalim, aware of the perfidy of his foe, declined this, except on his own conditions. These were singular, and will recall to mind another and yet more celebrated meeting. He demanded that they should discuss the terms of peace or war upon the Chambal, to which Holkar acceded. For this purpose Zalim prepared two boats, each capable of containing about twenty armed men. Having moored his own little bark in the middle of the stream, under the cannon of the city, Holkar, accompanied by his cavalcade, embarked in his boat and rowed to meet him. Carpets were spread, and there 1573these extraordinary men, with only one eye ^[3] between them, settled the conditions of peace, and the endearing epithets of ‘uncle’ and ‘nephew’ were bandied, with abundant mirth on the peculiarity of their situation; while—for the fact is beyond a doubt—each boat was plugged, and men were at hand on the first appearance of treachery to have sent them all to the bottom of the river.^[4] But Holkar’s [551] necessities were urgent, and a gift of three lakhs of rupees averted such a catastrophe, though he never relinquished the threat of exacting the ten lakhs; and when at length madness overtook him, “the bond of Kaka Zalim Singh” was one of the most frequently repeated ravings of this soldier of fortune, whose whole life was one scene of insanity.

Relations with Marāthas and Pindāris.

—It will readily be conceived that the labours of his administration were quite sufficient to occupy his attention without intermeddling with his neighbours; yet, in order to give a direct interest in the welfare of Kotah, he became a competitor for the farming of the extensive districts which joined his southern frontier, belonging to Sindhia and Holkar. From the former he rented the Panj-mahals, and from the latter the four important districts of Dig, Pirawa, etc.,^[5] which, when by right of conquest they became British, were given in sovereignty to the regent. Not satisfied with this hold of self-interest on the two great predatory powers, he had emissaries in the persons of their confidential ministers, who reported every movement; and to ‘make assurance doubly sure,’ he had Mahratta pandits of the first talent in his own administration, through whose connexions no political measure of their nation escaped his knowledge. As for Amir Khan, he and the regent were essential to each other. From Kotah the Khan was provided with military stores and supplies of every kind; and when his legions mutinied (a matter of daily occurrence) and threatened him with the bastinado, or fastening to a piece of ordnance under a scorching sun, Kotah afforded a place of refuge during a temporary 1574retreat, or ways and means to allay the tumult by paying the arrears. Zalim allotted the castle of Shirgarh for the Khan’s family, so that this leader had no anxiety on their account while he was pursuing his career of rapine in more distant scenes.

Even the Pindaris were conciliated with all the respect and courtesy paid to better men. Many of their leaders held grants of land in Kotah: so essential, indeed, was a good understanding with this body, that when Sindhia, in A.D. 1807, entrapped and imprisoned in the dungeons of Gwalior the celebrated Karim,^[6] Zalim not only advanced the large sum required for his ransom, but had the temerity to pledge himself for his future good conduct: an act which somewhat tarnished his reputation for sagacity, but eventually operated as a just punishment on Sindhia for his avarice.

The scale of munificence on which the regent exercised the rites of sanctuary (saran) towards the chiefs of other countries claiming his protection, was disproportioned to the means of the State. The exiled nobles of Marwar and Mewar [552] have held estates in Kotah greater than their sequestrated patrimonies. These dazzling acts of beneficence were not lost on a community amongst whom hospitality ranks at the head of the virtues. In these regions, where the strangest anomalies and the most striking contradictions present themselves in politics, such conduct begets no astonishment, and rarely provokes a remonstrance from the State whence the suppliant fled. The regent not only received the refugees, but often reconciled them to their sovereigns. He gloried in the title of ‘peace-maker,’ and whether his conduct proceeded from motives of benevolence or policy, he was rewarded with the epithet, sufficiently exalted in itself. “They all come to old Zalim with their troubles,” he remarked, “as if he could find food for them all from 'his handful of soil.'”

To conclude: his defensive was, in its results, the reverse of his offensive policy. Invariable and brilliant success accompanied the one; defeat, disappointment, and great pecuniary sacrifices were the constant fruits of the other. Mewar eluded all his arts, and involved Kotah in embarrassments from which she will never recover, while his attempt to take Sheopur, the capital of the Gaurs, by a coup de main, was signally defeated. Had he succeeded 1575in either attempt, and added the resources of these acquisitions to Kotah, doubtless his views would have been still more enlarged. At an early period of his career, an offer was made to him, by the celebrated Partap Singh of Jaipur, to undertake the duties of chief minister of that State: it is vain to speculate on what might have been the result to the State or himself, had he been able to wield her resources, at that time so little impaired.

Zālim Singh’s Domestic Policy. Character of Mahārāo Ummed Singh.

—Let us now view the domestic policy of the regent; for which purpose we must again bring forward the pageant prince of Kotah, the Raja Ummed Singh, who was destined never to be extricated from the trammels of a guardianship which, like most offices in the East, was designed to be hereditary; and at the age of threescore and ten, Ummed Singh found himself as much a minor as when his dying father ‘placed him in the lap’ of the Protector Zalim Singh. The line of conduct he pursued towards his sovereign, through half a century’s duration, was singularly consistent. The age, the character, the very title of Nana, or ‘grandsire,’ added weight to his authority, and the disposition of the prince seemed little inclined to throw it off. In short, his temperament appeared exactly suited to the views of the regent, who, while he consulted his wishes in every step, acted entirely from himself. The Maharao was a prince of excellent understanding, and possessed many of those qualities inherent in a Rajput. He was fond of the chase, and was the best horseman and marksman in the country; and the [553] regent gained such entire ascendancy over him, that it is doubtful whether he was solicitous of change. Besides, there was no appearance of constraint; and his religious occupations, which increased with his age, went far to wean him from a wish to take a more active share in the duties of government. His penetration, in fact, discovered the inutility of such a desire, and he soon ceased to entertain it; while in proportion as he yielded, the attentions of the minister increased. If an envoy came from a foreign State, he was introduced to the prince, delivered his credentials to him; and from him received a reply, but that reply was his minister’s. If a foreign noble claimed protection, he received it from the prince; he was the dispenser of the favours, though he could neither change their nature or amount. Nay, if the regent’s own sons required an addition to their estates, it could only be at the express 1576desire of the Maharao; and to such a length did the minister carry this deference, that an increase to his personal income required being pressed upon him by the prince. If horses arrived from foreign countries for sale, the best were set aside for the Maharao and his sons. The archives, the seal, and all the emblems of sovereignty remained as in times past in the custody of the personal servants of the prince, at the castle, though none durst use them without consent of the regent. He banished his only son, Madho Singh, during three years, to the family estate at Nanta, for disrespect to the heir-apparent, Kishor Singh, when training their horses together; and it was with difficulty that even the entreaty of the Maharao could procure his recall. There are many anecdotes related to evince that habitual deference to everything attached to his sovereign, which, originating in good feeling, greatly aided his policy. The regent was one day at prayer, in the family temple in the castle, when the younger sons of the Maharao, not knowing he was there, entered to perform their devotions. It was the cold season, and the pavement was damp; he took the quilt which he wore from his shoulders, and spread it for them to stand upon. On their retiring, a servant, deeming the quilt no longer fit to be applied to the regent’s person, was putting it aside; but, guessing his intention, Zalim eagerly snatched it from him, and re-covering himself, observed it was now of some value, since it was marked with the dust of the feet of his sovereign’s children. These are curious anomalies in the mind of a man who had determined on unlimited authority. No usurpation was ever more meek, or yet more absolute; and it might be affirmed that the prince and the regent were made for each other and the times in which they lived.

Zālim Singh and his Servants.

—It was to be expected that a man whose name was long synonymous with wisdom [554] should show discernment in the choice of his servants. He had the art of attaching them to his interests, of uniting their regard with a submissive respect, and no kindness, no familiarity, ever made them forget the bounds prescribed. But while he generously provided for all their wants, and granted them every indulgence, he knew too well the caprice of human nature to make them independent of himself. He would provide for them, for their relations and their dependents; his hand was ever bestowing gratuities on festivals, births, marriages, or deaths; but he never 1577allowed them to accumulate wealth. It is to be remarked that his most confidential servants were either Pathans or Mahratta pandits: the first he employed in military posts, the other in the more complicated machinery of politics. He rarely employed his own countrymen; and the post of Faujdar, now held by Bishan Singh, a Rajput of the Saktawat clan, is the exception to the rule. Dalil Khan and Mihrab Khan were his most faithful and devoted servants and friends. The stupendous fortifications of the capital, with which there is nothing in India to compete, save the walls of Agra, were all executed by the former. By him also was raised that pride of the regent, the city called after him, Jhalrapatan;^[7] while all the other forts were put into a state which makes Kotah the most defensible territory in India. Such was the affectionate esteem in which Dalil was held by the regent, that he used often to say, “he hoped he should not outlive Dalil Khan.” Mihrab Khan was the commander of the infantry, which he maintained in a state of admirable discipline and efficiency;^[8] they received their bis roza, or twenty days’ pay, each month, with their arrears at the end of every second year [555].

CHAPTER 10

Alliance with the British.

—We now enter upon that period of the regent’s history, when the march of events linked him with the policy of Britain. When in A.D. 1817, the Marquess of Hastings proclaimed war against the Pindaris, who were the very lees of the predatory hordes, which the discomfiture of the greater powers had thrown off, neutrality was not to be endured; and it was announced that all those who were not for us in this grand enterprise, which involved the welfare of all, would be considered 1578against us. The Rajput States, alike interested with ourselves in the establishment of settled government, were invited to an alliance offensive and defensive with us, which was to free them for ever from the thraldom of the predatory armies; in return for which, we demanded homage to our power, and a portion of their revenues as the price of protection. The eagle-eye of Zalim saw at once the virtue of compliance, and the grace attendant on its being quickly yielded. Accordingly, his envoy was the first to connect Kotah in the bonds of alliance, which soon united all Rajwara to Britain. Meanwhile, all India was in arms; two hundred thousand men were embodied, and moving on various points to destroy the germ of rapine for ever. As the first scene of action was expected to be in the countries bordering upon Haraoti, the presence of an agent with Zalim Singh appeared indispensable. His instructions were to make available the resources of Kotah to the armies moving round him, and to lessen the field [556] of the enemy’s manœuvres, by shutting him out of that country. So efficient were these resources, that in five days after the agent reached the regent’s camp,^[1] every pass was a post; and a corps of fifteen hundred men, infantry and cavalry, with four guns, was marched to co-operate with General Sir John Malcolm, who had just crossed the Nerbudda with a weak division of the army of the Deccan, and was marching northward, surrounded by numerous foes and doubtful friends. Throughout that brilliant and eventful period in the history of British India, when every province from the Ganges to the ocean was agitated by warlike demonstrations, the camp of the regent was the pivot of operations and the focus of intelligence. The part he acted was decided, manly, and consistent; and if there were moments of vacillation, it was inspired by our own conduct, which created doubts in his mind as to the wisdom of his course. He had seen and felt that the grand principle of politics, expediency, guided all courts and councils, whether Mogul, Mahratta, or British: the disavowal of the alliances formed by Lord Lake, under Marquess Wellesley’s administration, proved this to demonstration, and he was too familiar with the history of our power to give more credit 1579than mere politeness required to our boasted renunciation of the rights of anticipated conquest. A smile would play over the features of the orbless politician when the envoy disclaimed all idea of its being a war of aggrandisement. To all such protestations he would say, “Maharaja, I cannot doubt you believe what you say; but remember what old Zalim tells you; the day is not distant when only one emblem of power (ekhi sikka) will be recognized throughout India.” This was in A.D. 1817-18; and the ten years of life since granted to him must have well illustrated the truth of this remark; for although no absolute conquest or incorporation of Rajput territory has taken place, our system of control, and the establishment of our monopoly within these limits (not then dreamed of by ourselves), has already verified in part his prediction. It were indeed idle to suppose that any protestations could have vanquished the arguments present to a mind which had pondered on every page of the history of our power; which had witnessed its development from the battle of Plassey under Clive to Lake’s exploits at the altars of Alexander. He had seen throughout, that the fundamental rule which guides the Rajput prince, ‘obtain land,’ was one both practically and theoretically understood by viceroys from [557] the west, who appeared to act upon the four grand political principles of the Rajput, sham, dan, bed, dand; or, persuasion, gifts, stratagem, force; by which, according to their great lawgiver, kingdoms are obtained and maintained, and all mundane affairs conducted. When, therefore, in order to attain our ends, we expatiated upon the disinterestedness of our views, his co-operation was granted less from a belief in our professions, than upon a dispassionate consideration of the benefits which such alliance would confer upon Kotah, and of its utility in maintaining his family in the position it had so long held in that State. He must have balanced the difficulties he had mastered to maintain that power, against the enemies, internal and external, which had threatened it, and he justly feared both would speedily be sacrificed to the incapacity of his successors. To provide a stay to their feebleness was the motive which induced him to throw himself heart and hand into the alliance we sought; and of signal benefit did he prove to the cause he espoused. But if we read aright the workings of a mind, which never betrayed its purpose either to friend or foe, we should find that there was a moment wherein, though 1580he did not swerve from the path he had chalked out, or show any equivocation in respect to the pledge he had given, the same spirit which had guided him to the eminence he had acquired, suggested what he might have done at a conjuncture when all India, save Rajputana, was in arms to overthrow the legions of Britain. All had reason to dread her colossal power, and hatred and revenge actuated our numerous allies to emancipate themselves from a yoke which, whether they were bound by friendship or by fear, was alike galling. If there was one master-mind that could have combined and wielded their resources for our overthrow, it was that of Zalim Singh alone. Whether the aspirations of his ambition, far too vast for its little field of action, soared to this height, or were checked by the trammels of nearly eighty winters, we can only conjecture. Once, and once only, the dubious oracle came forth. It was in the very crisis of operations, when three English divisions were gradually closing upon the grand Pindari horde, under Karim Khan, in the very heart of his dominions, and his troops, his stores, were all placed at our disposal, he heard that one of these divisions had insulted his town of Bara; then, the ideas which appeared to occupy him burst forth in the ejaculation, “that if twenty years could be taken from his life, Delhi and Deccan should be one”; and appeared to point to the hidden thoughts of a man whose tongue never spoke but in parables.

There is also no doubt that his most confidential friends and ministers, who were [558] Mahrattas, were adverse to his leaguing with the English, and for a moment he felt a repugnance to breaking the bond which had so long united him with their policy. He could not but enumerate amongst the arguments for its maintenance, his ability to preserve that independence which fifty years had strengthened, and he saw that, with the power to which he was about to be allied, he had no course but unlimited obedience; in short, that his part must now be subordinate. He preferred it, however, for the security it afforded; and as in the course of nature he must soon resign his trust, there was more hope of his power descending to his posterity than if left to discord and faction. But when hostilities advanced against the freebooters, and the more settled governments of the Peshwa, Bhonsla, Holkar, and Sindhia, determined to shake off our yoke, we could urge to him irresistible arguments for a perfect identity of interests. The envoy had only to hint that the right of conquest would leave the 1581districts he rented from Holkar at our disposal; and that as we wanted no territory in Central India for ourselves, we should not forget our friends at the conclusion of hostilities. If ever there were doubts, they were dissipated by this suggestion; and on the grand horde being broken up, it was discovered that the families of its leaders were concealed in his territory. Through his indirect aid we were enabled to secure them, and at once annihilated the strength of the marauders. For all these important services, the sovereignty of the four districts he rented from Holkar was guaranteed to the regent. The circumstances attending the conveyance of this gift afforded an estimate of Zalim’s determination never to relinquish his authority; for, when the sanad was tendered in his own name, he declined it, desiring the insertion of that of “his master, the Maharao.” At the time, it appeared an act of disinterested magnanimity, but subsequent acts allowed us to form a more correct appreciation of his motives. The campaign concluded, and the noble commander and his enlightened coadjutor ^[2] left the seat of war impressed with the conviction of the great services, and the highest respect for the talents, of the veteran politician, while the envoy, who had acted with him during the campaign, was declared the medium of his future political relations.

In March A.D. 1818, profound repose reigned from the Sutlej to the ocean, of which Rajput history presented no example. The magic Runes, by which the north-man could “hush the stormy wave,” could not be more efficacious than the rod of our power in tranquillizing this wide space, which for ages had been the seat of conflict. The satya[559] yuga, the golden age of the Hindu, alone afforded a parallel to the calm which had succeeded the eras of tumultuous effervescence.

Death of Mahārāo Ummed Singh. Disputed Succession.

—Thus matters proceeded till November 1819, when the death of the Maharao Ummed Singh engendered new feelings in the claimants to the succession, and placed the regent in a position from which not even his genius might have extricated him, unaided by the power whose alliance he had so timely obtained. And here it 1582becomes requisite to advert to the terms of this alliance. The treaty ^[3] was concluded at Delhi, on the 26th of December 1817, by the envoys of the regent, in the name of his lawful sovereign, the Maharao Ummed Singh, ratified by the contracting parties, and the deeds were interchanged at the regent’s court early in January. To this treaty his sovereign’s seal and his own were appended; but no guarantee of the regent’s power was demanded pending the negotiation, nor is he mentioned except in the preamble, and then only as the ministerial agent of the Maharao Ummed Singh, in whose behalf alone the treaty was virtually executed. This excited the surprise of the British representative,^[4] who, in his official dispatch detailing the progress and conclusion of the negotiations, intimated that he not only expected such stipulation, but was prepared for admitting it. There was no inadvertence in this omission; the regent saw no occasion for any guarantee, for the plenary exercise of the powers of sovereign during more than half a century had constituted him, de facto, prince of Kotah. Moreover, we may suppose had he felt a desire for such stipulation, that a feeling of pride might have stifled its expression, which by making the choice of ministers dependent on a foreign power would have virtually annulled the independent sovereignty of Kotah. Whatever was the reason of the omission, at a season when his recognition might have had the same formal sanction of all the parties as the other articles of the treaty, it furnished the future opponents of the regent’s power with a strong argument against its maintenance in perpetuity on the death of the Maharao Ummed Singh.

It has been already said that the treaty was concluded at Delhi in December 1817, and interchanged in January 1818. In March of the same year, two supplemental articles were agreed to at Delhi, and transmitted direct to the regent, guaranteeing the administration of affairs to his sons and successors for ever.

Having premised so much, let us give a brief notice of the parties, whose future fate was involved in this policy [560].

1583The Maharao Ummed Singh had three sons, Kishor Singh, Bishan Singh, and Prithi Singh. The heir-apparent, who bore a name dear to the recollection of the Haras, was then forty years of age. He was mild in his temper and demeanour; but being brought up in habits of seclusion, he was more conversant with the formulas of his religion, and the sacred epics, than with the affairs of mankind. He was no stranger to the annals of his family, and had sufficient pride and feeling to kindle at the recollection of their glory; but the natural bent of his mind, reinforced by education, had well fitted him to follow the path of his father, and to leave himself and his country to be governed as best pleased the Nana Sahib,^[5] the regent.

Bishan Singh was about three years younger; equally placid in disposition, sensible and sedate, and much attached to the regent.

Prithi Singh was under thirty; a noble specimen of a Hara, eager for action in the only career of a Rajput—arms. To him the existing state of things was one of opprobrium and dishonour, and his mind was made up to enfranchize himself and family from the thraldom in which his father had left them, or perish in the attempt. The brothers were attached to each other, and lived in perfect harmony, though suspicions did exist that Bishan Singh’s greater docility and forbearance towards the regent’s son and successor, arose from interested, perhaps traitorous, views. Each of them had estates of twenty-five thousand rupees’ annual rent, which they managed through their agents.

The regent had two sons, the elder, Madho Singh, legitimate; the younger, Gordhandas, illegitimate; but he was regarded with more affection, and endowed with almost equal authority with the declared successor to the regency. Madho Singh was about forty-six at the period we speak of. A physiognomist would discover in his aspect no feature indicative of genius, though he might detect amidst traits which denoted indolence, a supercilious tone of character, the effect of indulgence. This was fostered in a great degree by the late Maharao, who supported the regent’s son against his own in all their dissensions, even from their infancy, which had increased the natural arrogance 1584developed by power being too early entrusted to him: for when the regent, as before related, quitted the capital for the camp, Madho Singh was nominated to the office of Faujdar, the hereditary post of his father, and left as his locum tenens at Kotah. This office, which included the command and pay of all the [561] troops, left unlimited funds at his disposal; and as the checks which restrained every other officer in the State were inoperative upon his sons, who dared to inform against the future regent? Accordingly, he indulged his taste in a manner which engendered dislike to him: his gardens, his horses, his boats, were in a style of extravagance calculated to provoke the envy of the sons of his sovereign; while his suite eclipsed that of the prince himself. In short, he little regarded the prudent counsel of his father, who, in their metaphorical language, used to express his fears “that when he was a hundred years old” (i.e. dead), the fabric which cost a life in rearing would fall to pieces.

Gordhandas,^[6] the natural son of the regent, was then about twenty-seven,^[7] quick, lively, intelligent, and daring. His conduct to his sovereign’s family has been precisely the reverse of his brother’s, and in consequence he lived on terms of confidential friendship with them, especially with the heir-apparent and prince, Prithi Singh, whose disposition corresponded with his own. His father, who viewed this child of his old age with perhaps more affection than his elder brother, bestowed upon him the important office of Pardhan, which comprehends the grain-department of the State. It gave him the command of funds, the amount of which endangered the declared succession. The brothers cordially detested each other, and many indignities were cast upon Gordhandas by Madho Singh, such as putting him in the guard, which kindled an irreconcilable rancour between them. Almost the only frailty in the character of the regent was the defective education of his sons: both were left to the indulgence of arrogant pretensions, which ill accorded with the tenor of his own behaviour through life, or the conduct that was demanded of them. Dearly, bitterly has the regent repented 1585this error, which in its consequence has thrown the merits of an active and difficult career into the shade, and made him regret that his power was not to die with himhim.

Such was the state of parties and politics at Kotah in November 1819, when the death of the Maharao developed views that had long been concealed, and that produced the most deplorable results. The regent was at the Chhaoni, his standing camp at Gagraun, when this event occurred, and he immediately repaired to the capital, to see that the last offices were properly performed, and to proclaim the an, or oath of allegiance, and the accession of the Maharao Kishor Singh [562].

The Political Agent received the intelligence ^[8] on his march from Marwar to Mewar, and immediately addressed his government on the subject, requesting instructions. Meanwhile, after a few days’ halt at Udaipur, he repaired to Kotah to observe the state of parties, whose animosities and expectations were forebodings of a change which menaced the guaranteed order of things. On his arrival, he found the aged regent, still a stranger to the luxury of a house, encamped a mile beyond the city, with his devoted bands around him; while his son, the heir to his power, continued in his palace in the town. The prince and brothers, as heretofore, resided at the palace in the castle, where they held their coteries, of which Gordhandas and Prithi Singh were the principals, moulding the new Maharao to their will, and from which the second brother, Bishan Singh, was excluded. Although the late prince had hardly ceased to breathe, before the animosities so long existing between the sons of the regent burst 1586forth, and threatened ‘war within the gates’; and although nothing short of the recovery of rights so long in abeyance was determined upon by the prince; yet—and it will hardly be believed—these schemes escaped the vigilance of the regent.

The death of his friend and sovereign, added to care and infirmity, brought on a fit of illness, the result of which was expected to crown the hopes of the parties who were interested in the event; and when, to their surprise and regret, he recovered, the plans of his prince and natural son were matured, and as notorious as the sun at noon to every person of note but the regent himself. He was not, indeed, the first aged ruler, however renowned for wisdom, who had been kept in ignorance of the cabals of his family. It required a prophet to announce to David the usurpation of Adonijah;^[9] and the same cause, which kept David ignorant that his son had supplanted him, concealed from the penetrating eye of Zalim Singh the plot which had for its object that his power should perish with him, and that his son Gordhan should supersede [563] the heir to his hereditary staff of office. Strange as it must appear, the British Agent acted the part of Nathan on this occasion, and had to break the intelligence to the man who had swayed for sixty years, with despotic authority, the destinies of Kotah, that his sons were arming against each other, and that his prince was determined that his wand (chhari) of power should (to speak in their metaphorical style) be consumed in the same pyre with himself whenever the ‘decree of Bhagwan’ went forth.

It was then that the supplemental articles, guaranteeing Madho Singh in the succession to the regency, proved a stumbling-block in the path of our mediation between parties, the one called on to renounce that dear-bought power, the other determined to regain what time and accident had wrested from him. Had the emergency occurred while the predatory system was predominant, not a whisper would have been raised; the point in all probability would never have been mooted: it would have been considered as a matter of course, where

1587that the Maharao Kishor should continue the same puppet in the hands of Madho Singh that his father had been in Zalim’s. This would have excited no surprise, nor would such a proceeding have afforded speculation for one hour. Nay, the usurper might have advanced to the ulterior step; and, like the Frank Maire du Palais, have demanded of the pontiff of Nathdwara, as did Pepin of Pope Zacharias, “whether he who had the power, should not also have the title, of king”;^[10] and the same plenary indulgence would have awaited the first Jhala Raja of Kotah as was granted to the first of the Carlovingian kings! It, therefore, became a matter of astonishment, especially to the unreflecting, whence arose the general sympathy, amounting to enthusiasm, towards this hitherto disregarded family, not only from chief and peasant, within the bounds of Haraoti, and the foreign mercenary army raised and maintained by the regent, but from the neighbouring princes and nobles, who had hitherto looked upon the usurpation in silence.

A short explanation will solve what was then enigmatical, even to those most interested in forming a just opinion. The practice of the moral virtues amongst any portion of civilized society may be uncertain, but there is one invariable estimate or standard of them in theory. The policy of 1817 changed the moral with the political [564] aspect of Rajasthan. If, previous thereto, no voice was raised against usurpation and crime, it was because all hope that their condition could be ameliorated was extinct. But this was to them a naya samvat, a ‘new era,’ a day of universal regeneration. Was the sovereign not to look for the restoration of that power which had been guaranteed by treaty—nor the chiefs to claim the restitution of their estates—nor the peasant to hope for the lands now added to the crown domain;—and were not all foreign potentates interested in calling for an example of retributive justice for ministerial usurpation, however mildly exercised towards the prince? With more rational than political argument, they appealed to our high notions of public justice to accomplish these objects. Unhappy position, in which circumstances—nay, paradoxical as it may appear, political gratitude 1588and justice—dictated a contrary course, and marshalled British battalions in line with the retainers of usurpation to combat the lawful sovereign of the country! The case was one of the most difficult that ever beset our policy in the East, which must always to a certain extent be adapted to the condition of those with whom we come in contact; and perhaps, on this occasion, no caution or foresight could have averted the effects of this affiance.

Effects of the British Treaty.

—There is not a shadow of doubt that the supplemental articles of the treaty of Kotah, which pledged our faith to two parties in a manner which rendered its maintenance towards both an impossibility, produced consequences that shook the confidence of the people of Rajwara in our political rectitude. They established two pageants instead of one, whose co-existence would have been miraculous; still, as a measure ought not to be judged entirely by its results, we shall endeavour to assign the true motive and character of the act.

If these articles were not dictated by good policy; if they cannot be defended on the plea of expediency; if the omission in the original treaty of December could not be supplied in March, without questioning the want of foresight of the framer; he might justify them on the ground that they were a concession to feelings of gratitude for important services, rendered at a moment when the fate of our power in India was involved to an extent unprecedented since its origin. To effect a treaty with the Nestor of Rajwara, was to ensure alliances with the rest of the States, which object was the very essence of Lord Hastings’ policy. Thus, on general views, as well as for particular reasons (for the resources of Kotah were absolutely indispensable), the co-operation of the regent was a measure vitally important. Still it may be urged that as the regent himself, from whatever motive, had allowed [565] the time to go by when necessity might have compelled us to incorporate such an article in the original treaty, was there no other mode of reimbursing these services besides a guarantee which was an apple of discord? The war was at an end; and we might with justice have urged that ‘the State of Kotah,’ with which we had treated, had, in the destruction of all the powers of anarchy and sharing in its spoils, fully reaped the reward of her services. Such an argument 1589would doubtless have been diplomatically just; but we were still revelling in the excitement of unparalleled success, to which Zalim had been no mean contributor, and the future evil was overlooked in the feverish joy of the hour. But if cold expediency may not deem this a sufficient justification, we may find other reasons. When the author of the policy of 1817 had maturely adjusted his plans for the union of all the settled governments in a league against the predatory system, it became necessary to adopt a broad principle with respect to those with whom we had to treat. At such a moment he could not institute a patient investigation into the moral discipline of each State, or demand of those who wielded the power by what tenure they held their authority. It became, therefore, a matter of necessity to recognize those who were the rulers de facto, a principle which was publicly promulgated and universally acted upon. Whether we should have been justified in March, when all our wishes had been consummated, in declining a proposal which we would most gladly have submitted to in December, is a question which we shall leave diplomatists to settle,^[11] and proceed to relate the result of the measure.

The counsellors of the new Maharao soon expounded to him the terms of the treaty, and urged him to demand its fulfilment according to its literal interpretation. The politic deference, which the regent had invariably shown to the late prince, was turned skilfully into an offensive weapon against him. They triumphantly appealed to the tenth article of the treaty, “the Maharao, his heirs and successors, shall remain absolute rulers of their country”; and demanded how we could reconcile our subsequent determination to guarantee Madho Singh and his heirs in the enjoyment of power, which made him de facto the prince, and “reduced the gaddi of Kotah to a simple heap of cotton?”—with the fact before our eyes, that the seals of all 1590the contracting parties were to the original treaty, but that of the supplemental articles the late Maharao died in absolute ignorance [566].

All friendly intercourse between the prince and the regent, and consequently with Madho Singh, was soon at an end, and every effort was used whereby the political enfranchisement of the former could be accomplished. The eloquence of angels must have failed to check such hopes, still more to give a contrary interpretation to the simple language of the treaty, to which, with a judicious pertinacity, they confined themselves. It would be useless to detail the various occurrences pending the reference to our Government. The prince would not credit, or affected not to credit, its determination, and founded abundant and not easily-refutable arguments upon its honour and justice. When told that its instructions were, “that no pretensions of the titular Raja can be entertained by us in opposition to our positive engagement with the regent; that he alone was considered as the head of the Kotah State, and the titular Raja no more deemed the ruler of Kotah, than the Raja of Satara the leader of the Mahrattas, or the Great Mogul the emperor of Hindustan,” the Maharao shut his ears against the representation of the Agent, and professed to regard the person who could compare his case to others so little parallel to it, as his enemy. While his brother, Prithi Singh, and Gordhandas formed part of the council of Kishor Singh, it was impossible to expect that he would be brought to resign himself to his destiny; and he was speedily given to understand that the removal of both from his councils was indispensable.

Outbreak at Kotah.

—But as it was impossible to effect this without escalading the castle, in which operation the prince, in all human probability, might have perished, it was deemed advisable to blockade it and starve them into surrender. When reduced to extremity, the Maharao took the determination of trusting his cause to the country, and placing himself at the head of a band of five hundred horse, chiefly Haras, with the tutelary deity at his saddle-bow, with drums beating and colours flying, he broke through the blockade. Fortunately, no instructions had been given for resistance, and his cavalcade passed on to the southward unmolested. As soon as the movement was reported, the Agent hastened to the regent’s camp, which he found in 1591confusion; and demanded of the veteran what steps he had taken, or meant to take, to prevent the infection spreading. His conduct, at such a crisis, was most embarrassing. Beset by scruples, real or affected, the Agent could only obtain ill-timed if not spurious declarations of loyalty; “that he would cling to his sovereign’s skirts, and chakari kar (serve him); that he would rather retire to Nathdwara, than blacken his face by any treason towards his master.” Rejoiced at the mere hint of a sentiment which afforded the least presage of the only [567] mode of cutting the Gordian knot of our policy, the Agent eagerly replied, “there was no earthly bar to his determination, which he had only to signify”; but abhorring duplicity and cant at such a moment, when action of the most decisive kind was required, and apprehensive of the consequences of five hundred unquiet spirits being thrown loose on a society so lately disorganized, he hastily bid the veteran adieu, and galloped to overtake the prince’s cavalcade. He found it bivouacked at the Rangbari,^[12] a country-seat six miles south of the capital. His followers and their horses, intermingled, were scattered in groups outside the garden-wall; and the prince, his chiefs, and advisers, were in the palace, deliberating on their future operations. There was no time for ceremony; and he reached the assembly before he could be announced. The rules of etiquette and courtesy were not lost even amidst impending strife; though the greeting was short, a warm expostulation with the prince and the chiefs was delivered with rapidity; and the latter were warned that their position placed them in direct enmity to the British Government, and that, without being enabled to benefit their sovereign, they involved themselves in destruction. The courtesy which these brave men had a right to was changed into bitter reproof, as the Agent turned to Gordhandas, whom he styled a traitor to his father, and from whom his prince could expect no good, guided as he was solely by interested motives, and warned him that punishment of no common kind awaited him. His hand was on his sword in an instant; but the action being met by a smile of contempt, and his insolent replies passing unheeded, the Agent, turning to the prince, implored him to reflect before the door would be closed to accommodation; pledging himself, at the same time, to everything that reason and his position could demand, except the 1592surrender of the power of the regent, which our public faith compelled us to maintain; and that the prince’s dignity, comforts, and happiness, should be sedulously consulted. While he was wavering, the Agent called aloud, “The prince’s horse!” and taking his arm, Kishor Singh suffered himself to be led to it, observing as he mounted, “I rely implicitly on your friendship.” His brother, Prithi Singh, spoke; the chiefs maintained silence; and the impetuosity of Gordhan and one or two of the coterie was unheeded. The Agent rode side by side with the prince, surrounded by his bands, in perfect silence, and in this way they re-entered the castle, nor did the Agent quit him till he replaced him on his gaddi, when he reiterated his expressions of desire for his welfare, but urged the necessity of his adapting his conduct to the imperious circumstances of his position; and intimated that both his brother and Gordhandas must be removed from his person, the latter altogether from [568] Haraoti. This was in the middle of May; and in June, after the public deportation of Gordhandas as a state-criminal to Delhi, and ample provision being made for the prince and every member of his family, a public reconciliation took place between him and the regent.

Reconciliation of Mahārāo Kishor Singh with Zālim Singh.

—The meeting partook of the nature of a festival, and produced a spontaneous rejoicing, the populace, with the loudest acclamations, crowding every avenue to the palace by which the regent and his son were to pass. The venerable Zalim appeared like their patriarch; the princes as disobedient children suing for forgiveness. They advanced bending to embrace his knees, whilst he, vainly attempting to restrain this reverential salutation to his age and to habit, endeavoured by the same lowly action to show his respect to his sovereign. Expressions, in keeping with such forms of affection and respect, from the Maharao, of honour and fidelity from the ‘guardian of his father’ and himself, were exchanged with all the fervour of apparent sincerity. Anomalous condition of human affairs! strange perversity, which prevented this momentary illusion from becoming a permanent reality!

Re-installation of Kishor Singh.

—This much-desired reconciliation was followed on the 8th of Sawan, or 17th August A.D. 1820, by the solemnities of a public installation of the Maharao on the gaddi of his ancestors: a pageantry which smoothed all asperities for 1593the time, and, in giving scope to the munificence of the regent, afforded to the mass, who judge only by the surface of things, a theme for approbation. We leave for another place ^[13] the details of this spectacle; merely observing that the representative of the British Government was the first (following the priest) to make the tika, or unction of sovereignty ^[14] on the forehead of the prince; and having tied on the jewels, consisting of aigrette, necklace, and bracelets, he girded on, amidst salutes of ordnance, the sword of investiture. The Maharao, with an appropriate speech, presented one hundred and one gold mohurs, as the nazar or fine of relief, professing his homage to the British Government. At the same time, a khilat, or dress of honour, was presented, in the name of the Governor-General of India, to the regent, for which he made a suitable acknowledgment, and a nazar of twenty-five gold mohurs.

Madho Singh then fulfilled the functions of hereditary Faujdar, making the tika, girding on the sword, and presenting the gift of accession, which was returned by [569] the Maharao presenting to Madho Singh the khilat of ultimate succession to the regency: the grand difficulty to overcome, and which originated all these differences. The Agent remained an entire month after the ceremony, to strengthen the good feeling thus begun; to adapt the Maharao’s mind to the position in which an imperious destiny had placed him; and also to impress on the successor to the regency the dangerous responsibility of the trust which a solemn treaty had guaranteed, if by his supineness, want of feeling, or misconduct, it were violated. On the 4th of September, previous to leaving Kotah, the Agent was present at another meeting of all the parties, when there was as much appearance of cordiality manifested as could be expected in so difficult a predicament. The old regent, the Maharao, and Madho Singh, joined hands in reciprocal forgiveness of the past, each uttering a solemn asseveration that he would cultivate harmony for the future.

It was on this occasion that the regent performed two deliberate acts, which appear suitable accompaniments to the 1594close of his political life, both as respects his prince and his subjects. He had prepared a covenant of surety for his old and faithful servants after his death, demanding the Maharao’s, his son Madho Singh’s, and the Agent’s signatures thereto, stipulating that “if his successor did not choose to employ their services, they should be free agents, be called to no account for the past, but be permitted to reside wherever they pleased.” The Maharao and Madho Singh having signed the deed, the British Agent, at the desire of the regent, placed his signature as a guarantee for its execution. In this act, we not only have proof that to the last the regent maintained the supremacy of his master, but evidence of the fears he entertained respecting the conduct of his successor.

Reforms in Taxation.

—The other act was a brilliant victory over the most inveterate habits of his age and country,—the revocation of dand, or forced contributions, throughout the dominion of Kotah. This spontaneous abolition of a practice so deeply rooted in Rajasthan, is another proof of the keen penetration of the regent, and of his desire to conciliate the opinions of the protecting power, as to the duties of princes towards their subjects; duties regarding which, as he said, “theoretically we are not ignorant”; and on which he has often forcibly descanted before his son, whilst laying down rules of conduct when he should be no more. At such moments, he entered fully and with energy into his own conduct; condemning it; pointing out its inevitable results, and the benefits he had observed to attend an opposite course of action. “My word, son, was not worth a copper,” he would say; “but now nobody would refuse anything to old Zalim.” It [570] was, therefore, as much from a conviction of the benefit to himself and the State which would attend the renunciation of this tax, as with a view of courting golden opinion, that he commanded a stone to be raised in the chief town of every district of his country, on which was inscribed the edict of perpetual abolition of dand, with the denunciation of eternal vengeance on whoever should revoke it. The effigies of the sun, the moon, the cow and the hog, animals reverenced or execrated by all classes, were carved in relief, to attest the imprecation.

Such was the pacific termination of a contest for authority, which threatened to deluge Kotah with blood. Whether we had a right to hope that such high and natural pretensions could rest 1595satisfied with the measures of conciliation and concession that were pursued, the sequel will disclose to those who judge only by results.

CHAPTER 11

Banishment of Gordhandās.

—The sole measure of severity which arose out of these commotions was exercised on the natural son of the regent, who was banished in the face of open day from the scene of his turbulent intrigue. Gordhandas, or, as his father styled him, ‘Gordhanji,’ was the ‘child of love’ and of his old age, and to his mother the regent, it is said, felt the most ardent attachment. The perpetual banishment of this firebrand was essential to tranquillity; yet, notwithstanding his misdeeds, political and filial, it was feared that the sentiments of the Jewish monarch, rather than the sternness of the Roman father, would have influenced the Rajput regent, whose bearing, when [571] the sentence of condemnation was enforced, was to be regarded as the test of a suspicion that the Maharao had been goaded to his course through this channel by ulterior views which he dared not openly promulgate. But Zalim’s fiat was worthy of a Roman, and sufficed to annihilate suspicion—“Let the air of Haraoti never more be tainted by his presence.” Delhi and Allahabad were the cities fixed upon, from which he was to select his future residence, and unfortunately the first was chosen. Here he resided with his family upon a pension sufficiently liberal, and had a range abundantly excursive for exercise, attended by some horsemen furnished by the British local authority.

About the close of 1821, permission was imprudently granted to the exile to visit Malwa, to fulfil a marriage-contract with an illegitimate daughter of the chieftain of Jhabua.^[1] Scarcely had he set his foot in that town, when symptoms of impatience, in lieu of perfect tranquillity, began to be visible at Kotah, and a correspondence both there and at Bundi was hardly detected, before a spirit of revolt was reported to have infected the tried veterans of the regent. Saif Ali, the commander of the ‘Royals’ (Raj Paltan), an officer of thirty years’ standing, distinguished 1596for his zeal, fidelity, and gallantry, was named as having been gained over to the cause of his nominal sovereign. This was looked upon as a slander; but too wise entirely to disregard it, the regent interposed a force between the disaffected battalion and the castle, which brought the matter to issue. The Maharao immediately proceeded by water, and conveyed Saif Ali and a part of his battalion to the palace; which was no sooner reported, than the blind regent put himself into his litter, and headed a force with which he attacked the remainder, while two twenty-four pounders, mounted on a cavalier, which commanded not only every portion of the city, but the country on both sides the Chambal, played upon the castle. In the midst of this firing (probably unexpected), the Maharao, his brother Prithi Singh, and their adherents, took to boat, crossed the river, and retired to Bundi, while the remainder of the mutinous ‘Royals’ laid down their arms. By this energetic conduct, the new attempt upon his power was dissolved as soon as formed, and the gaddi of the Haras was abandoned. Bishan Singh escaped from his brothers in the midst of the fray, and joined the regent, whose views regarding him, in this crisis, however indirectly manifested, could not be mistaken; but our system of making and unmaking kings in these distant regions, though it may have enlarged our power, had not added to our reputation; and the Agent had the most rooted repugnance to sanction the system in the new range of our alliances, however it might have tended to allay the discord [572] which prevailed, or to free the paramount power from the embarrassment in which its diplomatic relations had placed it, and from whence there was no escape without incurring the too just reproach of violating the conditions we had imposed. Common decency forbade our urging the only plea we could in forming the treaty, namely, our considering the prince as a mere phantom; and if we had been bold enough to do so, the reply would have been the same: “Why did you treat with a phantom?” while he would have persisted in the literal interpretation of the bond.

British Intervention.

—There was but one way to deal with the perplexity—to fulfil the spirit of the treaty, by which public peace would be ensured. Instructions were sent to the prince of Bundi, that there was no restraint upon his performing the rites of hospitality and kindred to the fugitive princes, but that he 1597would be personally responsible if he permitted them to congregate troops for the purpose of hostility against the regent: while, at the same time, the commander of the British troops at Nimach ^[2] was desired to interpose a light corps on the line of Jhabua and Bundi, and to capture Gordhandas, dead or alive, if he attempted to join the Maharao. He, however, contrived, through the intricacies of the plateau, to elude the well-arranged plan; but finding that the prince of Bundi had the same determination, he made direct for Marwar, where being also denied an asylum, he had no alternative but to return to Delhi, and to a more strict surveillance. This, however, may have been concerted; for soon after, the Maharao broke ground from Bundi, giving out a pilgrimage to Brindaban;^[3] and it was hoped that the tranquillity and repose he would find amidst the fanes of his tutelary deity, Brajnathji, might tempt a mind prone to religious seclusion, to pass his days there. While he remained at Bundi, public opinion was not at all manifested; the distance was trifling to Kotah, and being with the head of his race, the act was deemed only one of those hasty ebullitions so common in those countries, and which would be followed by reconciliation. But as soon as the prince moved northward, expectation being excited that his cause would meet attention elsewhere, he had letters of sympathy and condolence from every chief of the country, and the customary attentions to sovereignty were paid by those through whose States he passed, with the sole exception of that most contiguous to our provinces, Bharatpur. The prince of this celebrated place sent a deputation to the frontier, excusing himself on account of his age and blindness; but the Hara prince, knowing what was due from a Jat zemindar, however favoured by the accessions of fortune, repelled with disdain both his gifts and his mission. For this haughty, though not unbecoming maintenance of precedent, the [573] Maharao was warned off the bounds of Bharatpur. Having remained some time among the ‘groves of Vraja,’ there was reason to believe that the canticles of Jayadeva had rendered an earthly crown a mere bauble in the eyes of the abdicated Hara, and that the mystical effusions of Kanhaiya and Radha had eradicated all remembrance of the rhapsodies of Chand, and the glories of the Chauhan: he was accordingly left at discretion 1598to wander where he listed. As it was predicted, he soon felt the difference between his past and present mode of life, surrounded by a needy crew in a strange land; and towards the middle of April he had reached Muttra, on his return from Brindaban to Kotah. But his evil genius, in the shape of Gordhandas, had destined this should not be; and notwithstanding the rigorous surveillance, or, in fact, imprisonment, which had been enjoined, this person found an opportunity to carry on cabals with natives of high rank and office.

The Mahārāo marches on Kotah.

—Intrigues multiplied, and false hopes were inspired through these impure channels, which were converted by his corrupt emissaries into fountain-heads of political control, superseding the only authorized medium of communication between the misguided prince and the paramount power. Accordingly, having collected additional troops about him, he commenced his march to Haraoti, giving out to the chiefs through whose dominions he passed, that he was returning by the consent of the paramount power for the resumption of all his sovereign rights, so long in abeyance. Men with badges in his train, belonging to the persons alluded to, and an agent from the native treasurer of Delhi, who supplied the prince with funds, gave a colour of truth which deceived the country, and produced ardent expressions of desire for his success. As he proceeded, this force increased, and he reached the Chambal, towards the close of the monsoon 1821, with about three thousand men. Having crossed the river, he issued his summons in a language neither to be misunderstood nor disobeyed by a Rajput; he conjured them by their allegiance to join his cause, “that of seeking justice according to the treaty”: and the call was obeyed by every Hara of the country. His conduct afforded the most powerful illustration of the Rajput’s theory of fidelity, for even those closely connected by ties of blood and by every species of benefit, withdrew from the regent, to whom they owed everything, in order to join their hereditary and lawful prince, whom some had never seen, and of whom they knew nothing. Negotiation, and expostulation the most solemn and earnest on the personal dangers he was incurring, were carried on, and even public tranquillity was hazarded, rather than have recourse to the last argument, which was the less necessary, as universal peace [574] reigned around us, and the means of quelling revolt were at hand. An entire month was 1599thus consumed: but the ultimatum ^[4] left no means of putting a stop to increasing disorders but that appeal which from various considerations had been so long delayed.

The tried troops of the regent could not be depended on; he 1600confessed it; and in this confession, what an evidence is afforded of the nature of his rule, and of the homage to immutable justice in all parts of the world! Every corps, foreign or indigenous, was ready to range on the side of legitimate authority against the hand which had fed and cherished them. So completely did this feeling pervade every part of the political fabric, that the regent himself said, in his forcible manner, on his escape from the danger, “even the clothes on his back smelt of treason to him.” It was hoped that “the wisdom which called aloud (even) in the streets” would not be disregarded by the veteran; that disgust at such marks of perfidy would make him spurn from him the odium of usurpation, and thus free the paramount power from a situation the most painful and embarrassing. Abundant opportunities were afforded, and hints were given that he alone could cut the knot, which otherwise must be severed [575] by the sword. But all was fruitless: “he stood upon his bond,” and the execution of the treaty. The Maharao, his nominal sovereign, took the same ground, and even sent a copy of the treaty to the Agent, tauntingly asking whether it was to be recognized or not. All this embarrassment would have been avoided, had the supplemental articles been embodied in the original treaty; then the literal interpretation and its spirit would not have been at variance, nor have afforded a pretext to reproach the paramount power with a breach of faith and justice: charges which cannot in fact be supported, inasmuch as the same contracting parties, who executed the original document, amended it by this supplemental deed. The dispute then resolves itself into a question of expediency, already touched on, namely, whether we might not have provided better for the future, and sought out other modes of reward for services we had acknowledged, than the maintenance of two pageants of sovereignty, both acknowledged, the one de facto, the other de jure. It was fortunate, however, that the magnitude of the titular prince’s pretensions placed him completely in opposition to the other contracting parties, inasmuch as he would not abide by either the spirit or the letter of the treaty or its supplement, in the most modified sense. His demand for “a personal guard of three thousand of his kinsmen, that he might allot estates at pleasure to his chiefs, appoint the governors of fortresses, and be head of the army,” was a virtual repudiation of every principle of the alliance; while the succession to the 1601administrative powers of the State, secured to the issue of the regent, was made to depend on his pleasure: rather a frail tenure whether in Europe or Rajputana.

Everything that could be done to withdraw the infatuated prince from the knot of evil advisers and fiery spirits who daily flocked to his standard, carrying with them their own and their ancestors’ wrongs, being ineffectual and hopeless, the troops which had been called upon to maintain the treaty moved forward in combination with the army of the regent. As the force reached the Kali Sind, which alone divided the rivals for power, torrents of rain, which during several days swelled it to an impassable flood, afforded more time to try all that friendship or prudence could urge to save the Maharao from the impending ruin. But all was vain; he saw the storm, and invited its approach with mingled resolution and despair, proclaiming the most submissive obedience to the paramount power, and avowing a conviction of the good intentions and friendship of its representative; but to every remonstrance he replied, “what was life without honour; what was a sovereign without authority? Death, or the full sovereignty of his ancestors!” [576].

The conduct of the regent was not less perplexing than that of the prince; for while he affected still to talk of fealty, “to preserve his white beard from stain,” he placed before him the ample shield of the treaty, although he expected that his power should be maintained without any active measures on his own part for its defence: a degree of irresponsibility not for a moment to be tolerated. It was in vain he hinted at the spirit, more than doubtful, of his army; that in the moment of conflict they might turn their guns against us; even this he was told we would hazard: and, it was added, if he desired, at whatever cost, to preserve the power guaranteed to his family, he must act offensively as well as defensively; for it would shortly be too late to talk of reconciling fealty with the preservation of his power. The wily regent desired to have his work done for him; to have all the benefit which the alliance compelled us to afford, with none of the obloquy it entailed. The Agent had some hope, even at the twelfth hour, that rather than incur the opprobrium of the world, and the penalty denounced against the violation of swamidharma, in committing to the chance of battle the lives of all those to whom he was protector, he would draw back and compromise 1602his power; but the betrayal of his half-formed designs in hypocritical cant adapted only for the multitude, soon dispelled the illusion; and though there was a strong internal struggle, the love of dominion overcame every scruple.

The combination of the troops was discussed in his presence and that of his officers; and in order that unity of action might be ensured, a British officer was at his request attached to his force.^[5]

Battle of Māngrol.

—At daybreak on the 1st of October, the troops moved down to the attack.^[6] The regent’s army consisted of eight battalions of infantry, with thirty-two pieces of cannon and fourteen strong paegahs, or squadrons of horse. Of these, five battalions, with fourteen pieces and ten squadrons, composed the advance; while the rest formed a reserve with the regent in person, five hundred yards in the rear. The British troops, consisting of two weak battalions and six squadrons of cavalry, with a light battery of horse-artillery, formed on the right of the regent’s force as it approximated to the Maharao’s position. The ground over which the troops moved was an extensive plain, gradually shelving to a small shallow stream, whence it again rose rather abruptly. The Maharao’s camp was placed upon a rising ground, a short distance [577] beyond the stream: he left his tents standing, and had disposed his force on the margin of the rivulet. The ‘Royals,’ who had deserted their old master, with their leader, Saif Ali, were posted on the left; the Maharao with the élite, a band of full five hundred Hara cavaliers, upon the right, and the interval was filled by a tumultuous rabble. The combined force was permitted to choose its position, within two hundred yards of the foe, without the slightest demonstration of resistance or retreat. The Agent took advantage of the pause to request the British commander to halt the whole line, in order that he might make a last attempt to withdraw the infatuated prince and his devoted followers from the perils that confronted them. He advanced midway between the lines, and offered the same conditions and an amnesty to all; to conduct and replace the prince on the gaddi of his ancestors with honour. Yet, notwithstanding 1603ruin stared him in the face, he receded from none of his demands; he insisted on the sine qua non, and would only re-enter Kotah surrounded by three thousand of his Hara kinsmen. During the quarter of an hour allowed him to deliberate ere the sword should be drawn, movements in position on both sides took place; the Maharao’s chosen band, condensing all their force on the right, opposed the regent’s advance, while the British troops formed so in echelon as to enfilade their dense masses.

The time having expired, and not an iota of the pretensions being abated, the signal, as agreed upon, was given, and the action commenced by a discharge of cannon and firearms from the regent’s whole line, immediately followed by the horse-artillery on the right. With all the gallantry that has ever distinguished the Haras, they acted as at Fatehabad and Dholpur, and charged the regent’s line, when several were killed at the very muzzle of the guns, and but for the advance of three squadrons of British cavalry, would have turned his left flank, and probably penetrated to the reserve, where the regent was in person.^[7] Defeated in this design, they had no resource but a precipitate retreat from the unequal conflict, and the Maharao, surrounded by a gol of about four hundred horse, all Haras, his kinsmen, retired across the stream, and halted on the rising ground about half a mile distant, while his auxiliary foot broke and dispersed in all directions. The British troops rapidly crossed the stream, and while the infantry made a movement to cut off [578] retreat from the south, two squadrons were commanded to charge the Maharao. Determined not to act offensively, even in this emergency he adhered to his resolution, and his band awaited in a dense mass and immovable attitude the troops advancing with rapidity against them, disdaining to fly and yet too proud to yield. A British officer headed each troop; they and those they led had been accustomed to see the foe fly from the shock; but they were Pindaris, not Rajputs. The band stood like a wall of adamant; our squadrons rebounded from the shock, leaving two brave youths ^[8] dead on the spot, and 1604their gallant commander ^[9] was saved by a miracle, being stunned by a blow which drove in his casque, his reins cut, and the arm raised to give the coup de grâce, when a pistol-shot from his orderly levelled his assailant. The whole was the work of an instant. True to the determination he expressed, the Maharao, satisfied with repelling the charge, slowly moved off; nor was it till the horse-artillery again closed, and poured round and grape into the dense body, that they quickened their retreat; while, as three fresh squadrons had formed for the charge, they reached the makkai fields, amongst the dense crops of which they were lost.

Death of Prithi Singh.

—Prithi Singh, younger brother of the prince, impelled by that heroic spirit which is the birthright of a Hara, and aware that Haraoti could no longer be a home for him while living, determined at least to find a grave in her soil. He returned, with about five-and-twenty followers, to certain destruction, and was found in a field of Indian corn as the line advanced, alive, but grievously wounded. He was placed in a litter, and, escorted by some of Skinner’s horse, was conveyed to the camp. Here he was sedulously attended; but medical skill was of no avail, and he died the next day. His demeanour was dignified and manly; he laid the blame upon destiny, expressed no wish for life, and said, looking to the tree near the tent, that “his ghost would be satisfied in contemplating therefrom the fields of his forefathers.” His sword and ring had been taken from him by a trooper, but his dagger, pearl necklace, and other valuables, he gave in charge to the Agent, to whom he bequeathed the care of his son, the sole heir to the empty honours of the sovereignty of Kotah.

It was not from any auxiliary soldier that the prince received his death-wound; it was inflicted by a lance, propelled with unerring force from behind, penetrating the lungs, the point appearing through the chest. He said it was a revengeful blow from some determined hand, as he felt the steeled point twisted in the wound to ensure its [579] being mortal. Although the squadrons of the regent joined in the pursuit, yet not a man of them dared to come to close quarters with their enemy; it was therefore supposed that some treacherous arm had mingled with his men, and inflicted the blow which relieved the regent from the chief enemy to his son and successor.

1605The Maharao and his band were indebted for safety to the forest of corn, so thick, lofty, and luxuriant, that even his elephant was lost sight of. This shelter extended to the rivulet, only five miles in advance, which forms the boundary of Haraoti; but it was deemed sufficient to drive him out of the Kotah territory, where alone his presence could be dangerous. The infantry and foreign levies, who had no moral courage to sustain them, fled for their lives, and many were cut to pieces by detached troops of our cavalry.

The calm, undaunted valour of the Maharao and his kin could not fail to extort applause from those gallant minds which can admire the bravery of a foe, though few of those who had that day to confront them were aware of the moral courage which sustained their opponents, and which converted their vis inertiae into an almost impassable barrier.

Devotion of Two Hāras.

—But although the gallant conduct of the prince and his kin was in keeping with the valour so often recorded in these annals, and now, alas! almost the sole inheritance of the Haras, there was one specimen of devotion which we dare not pass over, comparable with whatever is recorded of the fabled traits of heroism of Greece or Rome. The physiography of the country has been already described; the plains, along which the combined force advanced, gradually shelved to the brink of a rivulet whose opposite bank rose perpendicularly, forming as it were the buttress to a tableland of gentle acclivity. The regent’s battalions were advancing in columns along this precipitous bank, when their attention was arrested by several shots fired from an isolated hillock rising out of the plain across the stream. Without any order, but as by a simultaneous impulse, the whole line halted, to gaze at two audacious individuals, who appeared determined to make their mound a fortress. A minute or two passed in mute surprise, when the word was given to move on; but scarcely was it uttered, ere several wounded from the head of the column were passing to the rear, and shots began to be exchanged very briskly, at least twenty in return for one. But the long matchlocks of the two heroes told every time in our lengthened line, while they seemed to have ‘a charmed life,’ and the shot fell like hail around them innocuous, one continuing to load behind the mound, while the [580] other fired with deadly aim. At length, two twelve-pounders were unlimbered; and as the shot whistled round their 1606ears, both rose on the very pinnacle of the mound, and made a profound salaam for this compliment to their valour; which done, they continued to load and fire, whilst entire platoons blazed upon them. Although more men had suffered, an irresistible impulse was felt to save these gallant men; orders were given to cease firing, and the force was directed to move on, unless any two individuals chose to attack them manfully hand to hand. The words were scarcely uttered when two young Rohillas drew their swords, sprung down the bank, and soon cleared the space between them and the foemen. All was deep anxiety as they mounted to the assault; but whether their physical frame was less vigorous, or their energies were exhausted by wounds or by their peculiar situation, these brave defenders fell on the mount, whence they disputed the march of ten battalions of infantry and twenty pieces of cannon.^[10] They were Haras! But Zalim was the cloud which interposed between them and their fortunes; and to remove it, they courted the destruction which at length overtook them.

The entire devotion which the vassalage of Haraoti manifested for the cause of the Maharao, exemplified, as before observed, the nature and extent of swamidharma or fealty, which has been described as the essential quality of the Rajput character; while, at the same time, it illustrates the severity of the regent’s yoke. Even the chief who negotiated the treaty could not resist the defection (one of his sons was badly wounded), although he enjoyed estates under the regent which his hereditary rank did not sanction, besides being connected with him by marriage.

The Maharao gained the Parbati, which, it is said, he swam over. He had scarcely reached the shore when his horse dropped dead from a grape-shot wound. With about three hundred horse he retired upon Baroda. We had no vengeance to execute; we could not, therefore, consider the brave men, who abandoned their homes and their families from a principle of honour, in the light of the old enemies of our power, to be pursued and exterminated. They had, it is true, confronted us in the field; yet only defensively, in a cause at least morally just and seemingly sanctioned by authorities which they could not distrust.

Reflections on the Outbreak.

—The pretensions so long opposed to the treaty were thus signally and efficiently subdued. The 1607chief instigators of the revolt were for ever removed, one by death, the other by exile; and the punishment which overtook the deserters from the regular [581] forces of the regent would check its repetition. Little prepared for the reverse of that day, the chiefs had made no provision against it, and at our word every door in Rajwara would have been closed against them. But it was not deemed a case for confiscation, or one which should involve in proscription a whole community, impelled to the commission of crime by a variety of circumstances which they could neither resist nor control, and to which the most crafty views had contributed.^[11] The Maharao’s camp being left standing, all his correspondence and records fell into our hands, and developed such complicated intrigues, such consummate knavery, that he, and the brave men who suffered from espousing his pretensions, were regarded as entitled to every commiseration.^[12] As soon, therefore, as the futility of their pretensions was disclosed, by the veil being thus rudely torn from their eyes, they manifested a determination to submit. The regent was instructed to grant a complete amnesty, and to announce to the chiefs that they might repair to their homes without a question being put to them. In a few weeks, all was tranquillity and peace; the chiefs and vassals returned to their families, who blessed the power which tempered punishment with clemency.^[13]

1608The Maharao continued his course to Nathdwara in Mewar, proving that the sentiment of religious abstraction alone can 1609take the place of ambition. The individuals who, for their own base purposes, had by misrepresentation and guile guided him to ruin, now deserted him; the film fell from his eyes, and he saw, though too late, the only position in which he could exist. In a very short time every pretension inimical to the spirit and letter of the treaty, original and supplemental, was relinquished; when, with the regent’s concurrence, a note was transmitted to him, containing the basis on which his return to Kotah was practicable. A transcript with his acceptance being received, a formal deed was drawn up, executed by the Agent and attested by the regent, not only defining the precise position of both parties, but establishing a barrier between the titular and executive authorities, which must for ever prevent all collision of interests; nothing was left to chance or cavil. The grand object was to provide for the safety, comfort, and dignity of the prince, and this was done on a scale of profuse liberality; far beyond what his father, or indeed any prince of Kotah had enjoyed, and incommensurate with the revenue of the State, of which it is about the twentieth portion. The amount equals the household expenditure of the Rana of Udaipur, the avowed head of the whole Rajput race, but which can be better afforded from the flourishing revenues of Kotah than the slowly improving finances of Mewar.

Restoration of the Mahārāo.

—These preliminaries being satisfactorily adjusted, it became important to inspire this misguided prince with a confidence that his welfare would be as anxiously watched as the stipulations of the treaty whose infringement had cost him so much misery. He had too much reason to plead personal alarm as one of the causes of his past conduct, and which tended greatly to neutralize all the endeavours to serve him. Even on the very day that he was to leave Nathdwara, on his return, when after great efforts his mind had been emancipated from distrust, a final and diabolical attempt was made to thwart the measures for his restoration. A mutilated wretch was made to personate his brother Bishan Singh, and to give out that he had been maimed by command [583] of the regent’s son, and the impostor had the audacity to come within a couple of miles of the Maharao; a slight resemblance to Bishan Singh aided the deceit, which, though promptly exposed, had made the impression for which it was contrived, and it required 1610some skill to remove it. The Rana of Udaipur no sooner heard of this last effort to defeat all the good intentions in which he co-operated towards the Maharao, to whose sister he was married, than he had the impostor seized and brought to the city, where his story had caused a powerful sensation. His indiscreet indignation for ever destroyed the clue by which the plot might have been unravelled; for he was led immediately to execution, and all that transpired was, that he was a native of the Jaipur State, and had been mutilated for some crime. Could the question have been solved, it might have afforded the means of a different termination of those unhappy quarrels, to which they formed a characteristic sequel: intrigue and mistrust combined to inveigle Kishor Singh into attempts which placed him far beyond the reach of reason, and the most zealous exertions to extricate him.

This last scene being over, the Maharao left his retreat at the fane of Kanhaiya, and marched across the plateau to his paternal domains. On the last day of the year the regent, accompanied by the Agent, advanced to reconduct the prince to the capital. The universal demonstration of satisfaction at his return was the most convincing testimony that any other course would have been erroneous. On that day he once more took possession of the gaddi which he had twice abandoned, with a resignation free from all asperity, or even embarrassment. Feelings arising out of a mind accustomed to religious meditation, aided while they softened the bitter monitor, adversity, and together they afforded the best security that any deviation from the new order of things would never proceed from him.

Arrangements with the Mahārāo.

—Besides the schedule of the personal expenditure, over which he was supreme, much of the State expense was to be managed under the eye of the sovereign; such as the charities, and gifts on festivals and military ceremonies. The royal insignia used on all great occasions were to remain as heretofore at his residence in the castle, as was the band at the old guardroom over the chief portal of entrance. He was to preside at all the military or other annual festivals, attended by the whole retinue of the State; and the gifts on such occasions were to be distributed in his name. All the palaces, in and about the city, were at his sole disposal, and funds were set apart for their repairs; the gardens, ramnas, or game-preserves, and his personal guards, were also to be entertained and paid by himself. 1611To maintain this arrangement inviolate, an [584] officer of the paramount power was henceforth to reside at Kotah. A handsome stipend was settled on the minor son of the deceased Prithi Singh; while, in order to prevent any umbrage to the Maharao, his brother Bishan Singh, whose trimming policy had been offensive to the Maharao, was removed to the family estate at Antha, twenty miles east of the capital, on which occasion an increase was spontaneously made to his jagir.

The Agent remained an entire month after this, to strengthen the good understanding now introduced. He even effected a reconciliation between the prince and Madho Singh, when the former, with great tact and candour, took upon himself the blame of all these disturbances; each gave his hand in token of future amity, and the prince spontaneously embraced the man (the regent’s son) to whom he attributed all his misery. But the Maharao’s comforts and dignity are now independent of control, and watched over by a guardian who will demand a rigid exaction of every stipulation in his favour. The patriarchal Zalim was, or affected to be, overjoyed at this result, which had threatened to involve them all in the abyss of misery. Bitter was his self-condemnation at the moral blindness of his conduct, which had not foreseen and guarded against the storm; and severe, as well as merited, was the castigation he inflicted on his successor. “It is for your sins, son, that I am punished,” was the conclusion of every such exhortation.

It will be deemed a singular fatality, that this last conspicuous act in the political life of the regent should have been on the spot which exactly sixty years before witnessed the opening scene of his career; for the field of Bhatwara ^[14] adjoined that of Mangrol. What visions must have chased each other on this last memorable day, when he recalled the remembrance of the former! when the same sword, which redeemed the independence of Kotah from tributary degradation to Amber, was now drawn against the grandson of that sovereign who rewarded his services with the first office of the State! Had some prophetic Bardai withdrawn the mantle of Bhavani, and disclosed through the vista of threescore years the regent in the foreground, in all the panoply of ingenuous youth “spreading his carpet” at 1612Bhatwara, to review the charge of the Kachhwaha chivalry, and in the distant perspective that same being palsied, blind, and decrepit, leading a mingled host, in character and costume altogether strange, against the grandchildren of his prince, and the [585] descendants of those Haras who nobly seconded him to gain this reputation, what effect would such a prospect have produced on one whom the mere hooting of an owl on the house-top had “scared from his propriety”?

Soon after the satisfactory conclusion of these painful scenes, the regent returned to the Chhaoni, his fixed camp, and projected a tour of the State, to allay the disorders which had crept in, and to regulate afresh the action of the State-machine, the construction of which had occupied a long life, but which could not fail to be deranged by the complicated views which had arisen amongst those whose business was to work it. Often, amidst these conflicts, did he exclaim, with his great prototype both in prosperity and sorrow, “My kinsfolk have failed, and my familiar friends have forgotten me.” But Zalim had not the same resources in his griefs that Job had; nor could he with him exclaim, “If my land cry against me, if I have eaten the fruits thereof without money, or caused the owners thereof to lose their lives, let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle instead of barley.”^[15] His yet vigorous mind, however, soon restored everything to its wonted prosperity; and in a few weeks not a trace was left of the commotions which for a while had totally unhinged society, and threatened to deluge the land with proscription and blood. The prince was reseated on the throne with far greater comforts about him and more certainty of stability than previous to the treaty; the nobles took possession of their estates with not a blade of grass removed, and the ghar-kheti, the home-farms of the Regent, lost none of their productiveness; commerce was unscathed, and public opinion, which had dared loudly to question the moral justice of these proceedings, was conciliated by their conclusion. The regent survived these events five years; his attenuated frame was worn out by a spirit, vigorous to the last pulsation of life, and too strong for the feeble cage which imprisoned it.^[16]

1613

Character of Zālim Singh.

—If history attempt to sum up, or institute a scrutiny into, the character of this extraordinary man, by what standard must we judge him? The actions of his life, which have furnished matter for the sketch we have attempted, may satisfy curiosity; but the materials for a finished portrait he never supplied: the latent springs of those actions remained invisible save to the eye of Omniscience. No human being ever shared the confidence of the Machiavelli of Rajasthan, who, from the first dawn of his political existence to its close, when “fourscore years and upwards,” could always say, “My secret is my own.” This single trait, throughout a troubled career of more [586] than ordinary length, would alone stamp his character with originality. No effervescence of felicity, of success, of sympathy, which occasionally bursts from the most rugged nature, no sudden transition of passion—joy, grief, hope, even revenge—could tempt him to betray his purpose. That it was often fathomed, that his “vaulting ambition has o’erleapt itself,” and made him lose his object, is no more than may be said of all who have indulged in “that sin by which angels fell”; yet he never failed through a blind confidence in the instruments of his designs. Though originally sanguine in expectation and fiery in temperament, he subdued these natural defects, and could await with composure the due ripening of his plans; even in the hey-day of youth he had attained this mastery over himself. To this early discipline of his mind he owed the many escapes from plots against his life, and the difficulties which were perpetually besetting it increased his natural resources. There was no artifice, not absolutely degrading, which he would not condescend to employ: his natural simplicity made humility, when necessary, a plausible disguise; while his scrupulous attention to all religious observances caused his mere affirmation to be respected. The sobriety of his demeanour gave weight to his opinions and influenced the judgment; while his invariable urbanity gained the goodwill of his inferiors, and his superiors were won by the 1614delicacy of his flattery, in the application of which he was an adept. To crown the whole, there was a mysterious brevity, an oracular sententiousness, in his conversation, which always left something to the imagination of his auditor, who gave him credit for what he did not, as well as what he did utter. None could better appreciate, or studied more to obtain, the meed of good opinion; and throughout his lengthened life, until the occurrences just described, he threw over his acts of despotism and vengeance a veil of such consummate art, as to make them lose more than half their deformity. With him it must have been an axiom, that mankind judge superficially; and in accordance therewith, his first study was to preserve appearances, and never to offend prejudice if avoidable. When he sequestrated the States of the Hara feudality, he covered the fields, by them neglected, with crops of corn, and thereby drew a contrast favourable to himself between the effects of sloth and activity. When he usurped the functions of royalty, he threw a bright halo around the orb of its glory, overloading the gaddi with the trappings of grandeur, aware that—

nor did the princes of Kotah ever appear with such magnificence as when he possessed all the attributes of royalty but the name. Every act evinced his deep skill in the [587] knowledge of the human mind and of the elements by which he was surrounded; he could circumvent the crafty Mahratta, calm or quell the arrogant Rajput, and extort the applause even of the Briton, who is little prone to allow merit in an Asiatic. He was a depository of the prejudices and the pride of his countrymen, both in religious and social life; yet, enigmatical as it must appear, he frequently violated them, though the infraction was so gradual as to be imperceptible except to the few who watched the slow progress of his plans. To such he appeared a compound of the most contradictory elements: lavish and parsimonious, oppressing and protecting; with one hand bestowing diamond aigrettes, with the other taking the tithe of the anchorite’s wallet; one day sequestrating estates and driving into exile the ancient chiefs of the land; the next receiving with open arms some expatriated noble, and supporting him in dignity and affluence, till the receding tide of human affairs rendered such support no longer requisite.

1615

Zālim Singh and Witches.

—We have already mentioned his antipathy to the professors of “the tuneful art”; and he was as inveterate as Diocletian to the alchemist, regarding the trade of both as alike useless to society: neither were, therefore, tolerated in Kotah. But the enemies of the regent assert that it was from no dislike of their merit, but from his having been the dupe of the one, and the object of the other’s satire (vish). His persecution of witches (dakini) was in strict conformity with the injunction in the Pentateuch: “Thou shall not suffer a witch to live” (Exod. chap. xxii. ver. 18). But his ordeal was worse than even death itself: handling balls of hot iron was deemed too slight for such sinners; for it was well known they had substances which enabled them to do this with impunity. Throwing them into a pond of water was another trial; if they sunk, they were innocent, if they unhappily rose to the surface, the league with the powers of darkness was apparent. A gram-bag of cayenne pepper tied over the head, if it failed to suffocate, afforded another proof of guilt; though the most humane method, of rubbing the eyes with a well-dried capsicum, was perhaps the most common, and certainly if they could furnish this demonstration of their innocence, by withholding tears, they might justly be deemed witches. These Dakinis, like the vampires of the German Bardais, are supposed to operate upon the viscera of their victims, which they destroy by slow degrees with charms and incantations, and hence they are called in Sind (where, as Abu-l Fazl says, they abound) Jigarkhor, or ‘liver-devourers.’^[17] One look of a Dakini suffices to destroy; but there are few who [588] court the title, at least in Kotah, though old age and eccentricity are sufficient, in conjunction with superstition or bad luck, to fix the stigma upon individuals.

Amusements of Zālim Singh.

—Aware of the danger of relaxing, “to have done,” even when eighty-five winters had passed over his head, was never in his thoughts. He knew that a Rajput’s throne should be the back of his steed; and when blindness overtook him, and he could no longer lead the chase on horseback, he was carried in his litter to his grand hunts, which consisted sometimes of several thousand armed men. Besides dissipating the ennui of his vassals, he obtained many other objects by an amusement so analogous to their character; in the unmasked 1616joyousness of the sport, he heard the unreserved opinions of his companions, and gained their affection by thus administering to the favourite pastime of the Rajput, whose life is otherwise monotonous. When in the forest, he would sit down, surrounded by thousands, to regale on the game of the day. Camels followed his train, laden with flour, sugar, spices, and huge cauldrons for the use of his sylvan cuisine; and amidst the hilarity of the moment, he would go through the varied routine of government, attend to foreign and commercial policy, the details of his farms or his army, the reports of his police; nay, in the very heat of the operations, shot flying in all directions, the ancient regent might be discovered, like our immortal Alfred or St. Louis of the Franks, administering justice under the shade of some spreading pipal tree; while the day so passed would be closed with religious rites, and the recital of a mythological epic; he found time for all, never appeared hurried, nor could he be taken by surprise. When he could no longer see to sign his own name, he had an autograph facsimile engraved, which was placed in the special care of a confidential officer, to apply when commanded. Even this loss of one sense was with him compensated by another, for long after he was stone-blind, it would have been vain to attempt to impose upon him in the choice of shawls or clothes of any kind, whose fabrics and prices he could determine by the touch; and it is even asserted that he could in like manner distinguish colours.

His Gardens.

—If, as has been truly remarked, “that man deserves well of his country who makes a blade of grass grow where none grew before,”^[18] what merit is due to him who made the choicest of nature’s products flourish where grass could not grow; who covered the bare rock around his capital with soil, and cultivated the exotics of Arabia, Ceylon, and the western Archipelago; who translated from the Indian Apennines (the mountains of Malabar) the coco-nut and palmyra; and thus refuted the assertion that [589] these trees could not flourish remote from the influence of a marine atmosphere? In his gardens were to be found the apples and quinces of Kabul, pomegranates from the famed stock of Kagla ka bagh ^[19] in the desert, oranges of every kind, scions of Agra and Sylhet, the amba of 1617Mazagon, and the champa-kela,^[20] or golden plantain, of the Deccan, besides the indigenous productions of Rajputana. Some of the wells for irrigating these gardens cost in blasting the rock thirty thousand rupees each; he hinted to his friends that they could not do better than follow his example, and a hint always sufficed. He would have obtained a prize from any horticultural society for his improvement of the wild ber (jujube), which by grafting he increased to the size of a small apple. In chemical science he had gained notoriety; his itrs, or essential oils of roses, jessamine, ketaki, and keura,^[21] were far superior to any that could be purchased. There was no occasion to repair to the valley of Kashmir to witness the fabrication of its shawls; for the looms and the wool of that fairy region were transferred to Kotah, and the Kashmirian weaver plied the shuttle under Zalim’s own eye. But, as in the case of his lead-mines, he found that this branch of industry did not return even sixteen annas and a half for the rupee,^[22] the minimum profit at which he fixed his remuneration; so that after satisfying his curiosity, he abandoned the manufacture. His forges for swords and firearms had a high reputation, and his matchlocks rival those of Bundi, both in excellence and elaborate workmanship.

Wrestling.

—His corps of gladiators, if we may thus designate the Jethis, obtained for him equal credit and disgrace. The funds set apart for this recreation amounted at one time to fifty thousand rupees per annum; but his wrestlers surpassed in skill and strength those of every other court in Rajwara, and the most renowned champions of other States were made “to view the heavens,”^[23] if they came to Kotah. But in his younger days Zalim was not satisfied with the use of mere natural weapons, for occasionally he made his Jethis fight with the baghnakh,^[24] or 1618tiger-claw, when they tore off the flesh from each other [590]. The chivalrous Ummed Singh of Bundi put a stop to this barbarity. Returning from one of his pilgrimages from Dwarka, he passed through Kotah while Zalim and his court were assembled in the akhara (arena) where two of these stall-fed prize-fighters were about to contend. The presence of this brave Hara checked the bloody exhibition, and he boldly censured the Regent for squandering on such a worthless crew resources which ought to cherish his Rajputs. This might have been lost upon the Protector, had not the royal pilgrim, in the fervour of his indignation, thrown down the gauntlet to the entire assembly of Jethis. Putting his shield on the ground, he placed therein, one by one, the entire panoply of armour which he habitually wore in his peregrinations, namely, his matchlock and its ponderous accompaniments, sword, daggers, staff, and battleaxe, and challenged any individual to raise it from the ground with a single arm. All tried and failed; when Sriji, though full sixty years of age, held it out at arm’s length during several seconds. The Haras were delighted at the feat of their patriarchal chief; while the crest-fallen Jethis hung their heads, and from that day lost ground in the favour of the regent. But these were the follies of his earlier days, not of the later period of his life: he was then like an aged oak, which, though shattered and decayed, had survived the tempest and the desolation which had raged around it.

The Last Years of Zālim Singh.

—To conclude: had he imitated Diocletian, and surrendered the purple, he would have afforded another instance of the anomalies of the human understanding; that he did not do so, for the sake of his own fame and that of the controlling power, as well as for the welfare of his prince, must be deeply lamented; the more especially as his chhari (rod) has descended to feeble hands. He had enjoyed the essentials of sovereignty during threescore years, a period equal in duration to that of Darius the Mede; and had overcome difficulties which would have appalled no ordinary minds. He had vanquished all his enemies, external and internal, and all his views as regarded Haraoti were accomplished.

Amongst the motives which might have urged the surrender of his power, stronger perhaps than his desire of reparation with heaven and his prince, was the fear of his successor’s inefficiency; 1619but this consideration unhappily was counterbalanced by the precocious talents of his grandson, whom he affectionately loved, and in whom he thought he saw himself renewed. Pride also, that chief ingredient in his character, checked such surrender; he feared the world would suppose he had relinquished what he could no longer retain; and ruin would have been preferred to the idea that he had been “driven from his stool.” Able and artful ministers flattered the feeling so deeply rooted, and to crown the whole, he was supported by obligations of public faith contracted by a power without a rival. Still, old age, declining health, the desire of repose and of religious retirement, prompted wishes which often escaped his lips [591]; but counteracting feelings intruded, and the struggle between the good and evil principle lasted until the moment had passed when abdication would have been honourable. Had he, however, obeyed the impulse, his retreat would have more resembled that of the fifth Charles than of the Roman King. In the shades of Nathdwara he would have enjoyed that repose, which Diocletian could not find at Salona; and embued with a better philosophy and more knowledge of the human heart, he would have practised what was taught, that “there ought to be no intermediate change between the command of men and the service of God” [592].

4. Letter of Maharao Kishor Singh, accompanying counter-articles, presented to Capt. Tod, dated Asoj badi Panchami, or 16th September, ‘Camp Miyana.’

(After compliments.)

Chand Khan has often expressed a desire to know what were my expectations. These had been already sent to you by my wakils, Mirza Muhammad Ali Beg, and Lala Salik Ram. I again send you the Schedule of Articles. According to their purport you will act. Do me justice as the representative of the British Government, and let the master be as master, and the servant as servant; this is the case everywhere else, and is not hidden from you.

Articles, the fulfilment of which was demanded by Maharao Kishor Singh, and accompanying his letter of 16th September.

1. According to the treaty executed at Delhi, in the time of Maharao Ummed Singh, I will abide.

2. I have every confidence in Nanaji Zalim Singh; in like manner as he served Maharao Ummed Singh, so he will serve me. I agree to his administration of affairs; but between Madho Singh and myself suspicions and doubts exist; we can never agree; therefore, I will give him a jagir; there let him remain. His son, Bapa Lal, shall remain with me, and in the same way as other ministers conduct State business before their princes, so shall he before me. I, the master, he, the servant; and if as the servant he acts, it will abide from generation to generation.

3. To the English Government, and other principalities, whatever letters are addressed shall be with my concurrence and advice.

4. Surety for his life, and also for mine, must be guaranteed by the English Government.

5. I shall allot a jagir for Prithi Singh (the Maharao’s brother), at which he will reside. The establishments to reside with him and my brother Bishan Singh shall be of my nomination. Besides, to my kinsmen and clansmen, according to their rank, I shall give jagirs, and they shall, according to ancient usage, be in attendance upon me.

6. My personal or khas guards, to the amount of three thousand, with Bapa Lal (the regent’s grandson) shall remain in attendance.

7. The amount of the collections of the country shall all be deposited in the Kishan Bhandar (general treasury), and thence expenditure made.

8. The Kiladars (commandants) of all the forts shall be appointed by me, and the army shall be under my orders. He (the regent) may desire the officers of Government to execute his commands, but it shall be with my advice and sanction.

These are the Articles I desire; they are according to the rules for government (rajrit)—Mitti Asoj Panchami, S. 1878 (1822).

13. The Author, who had to perform the painful duty related in this detailed transaction, was alternately aided and embarrassed by his knowledge of the past history of the Haras, and the mutual relations of all its discordant elements. Perhaps, entire ignorance would have been better—a bare knowledge of the treaty, and the expediency of a rigid adherence thereto, unbiassed by sympathy, or notions of abstract justice, which has too little in common with diplomacy. But without overlooking the colder dictates of duty, he determined that the aegis of Britain should not be a shield of oppression, and that the remains of Hara independence, which either policy or fear had compelled the regent to respect, should not thereby be destroyed; and he assumed the responsibility, a few days after the action, of proclaiming a general amnesty to the chiefs, and an invitation to each to return to his dwelling. He told the regent that any proceeding which might render this clemency nugatory, would not fail to dissatisfy the Government. All instantly availed themselves of the permission; and in every point of view, morally and physically, the result was most satisfactory, and it acted as a panacea for the wounds our public faith compelled us to inflict. Even in the midst of their compulsory infliction, he had many sources of gratulation: and of these he will give an anecdote illustrative of Rajput character. In 1807, when the Author, then commencing his career, was wandering alone through their country, surveying their geography, and collecting scraps of their statistics, he left Sindhia battering Rahatgarh [in Sāgar District, Central Provinces] and with a slender guard proceeded through the wilds of Chanderi, and thence direct westwards to trace the course of all the rivers lying between the Betwa and the Chambal. In passing through Haravati, leaving his tent standing at Bara, he had advanced with the perambulator as far as the Kali-Sind, a distance of seventeen miles; and, leaving his people to follow at leisure, was returning home unattended at a brisk canter, when, as he passed through the town of Bamolia, a party rushed out and made him captive, saying that he must visit the chief [582]. Although much fatigued, it would have been folly to refuse. He obeyed, and was conveyed to a square, in the centre of which was an elevated chabutra or platform, shaded by the sacred tree. Here, sitting on carpets, was the chief with his little court. The Author was received most courteously. The first act was to disembarrass him of his boots; but this, heated as he was, they could not effect: refreshments were then put before him, and a Brahman brought water, with a ewer and basin, for his ablutions. Although he was then but an indifferent linguist, and their patois scarcely intelligible to him, he passed a very happy hour, in which conversation never flagged. The square was soon filled, and many a pair of fine black eyes smiled courteously upon the stranger—for the females, to his surprise, looked abroad without any fear of censure; though he was ignorant of their sphere in life. The Author’s horse was lame, which the chief had noticed; and on rising to go, he found one ready caparisoned for him, which, however, he would not accept. On reaching his tent the Author sent several little articles as tokens of regard. Fourteen years after this, the day following the action at Mangrol, he received a letter by a messenger from the mother of the chief of Bamolia, who sent her blessing, and invoked him, by past friendship and recollections, to protect her son, whose honour had made him join the standard of his sovereign. The Author had the satisfaction of replying that her son would be with her nearly as soon as the bearer of the letter. The Bamolia chief, it will be recollected, was the descendant of the chief of Aton, one of the great opponents of the regent at the opening of his career.

CHAPTER 1

Udaipur, January 29, 1820.—The Personal Narrative attached to the second volume of this work terminated with the Author’s return to Udaipur, after a complete circuit of Marwar and Ajmer. He remained at his headquarters at Udaipur until the 29th January 1820, when circumstances rendering it expedient that he should visit the principalities of Bundi and Kotah (which were placed under his political superintendence), he determined not to neglect the opportunity it afforded of adding to his portfolio remarks on men and manners, in a country hitherto untrodden by Europeans.

Although we had not been a month in the valley of Udaipur, we were all desirous to avail ourselves of the lovely weather which the cold season of India invariably brings, and which exhilarates the European who has languished through the hot winds, and the still more oppressive monsoon. The thermometer at this time, within the valley, was at the freezing point at break of day, ranging afterwards as high as 90°, whilst the sky was without a cloud, and its splendour at night was dazzling.

Kheroda.

—On the 29th we broke ground from the heights of Tus, marched fifteen English miles (though estimated at only six and a half coss), and encamped under the embankment of the spacious lake of Kheroda.^[1] Our route was over a rich and well-watered plain, but which had long been a stranger to the plough. Three miles from Dabokh we crossed our own stream, the Berach, 1622and at the village of [593] Darauli is a small outlet from this river, which runs into a hollow and forms a jhil, or lake. There is a highly interesting temple, dedicated to Mandeswar (Siva), on the banks of this stream, the architecture of which attests its antiquity. It is the counterpart in miniature of a celebrated temple, at Chandravati, near Abu, and verifies the traditional axiom, that the architectural rules of past ages were fixed on immutable principles.

We passed the sarai of Surajpura, a mile to the right, and got entangled in the swampy ground of Bhartewar. This town, which belongs to the chief of Kanor, one of the sixteen great barons of Mewar, boasts a high antiquity, and Bhartrihari, the elder brother of Vikrama, is its reputed founder. If we place any faith in local tradition, the bells of seven hundred and fifty temples, chiefly of the Jain faith, once sounded within its walls, which were six miles in length; but few vestiges of them now remain, although there are ruins of some of these shrines which show they were of considerable importance. Within a mile and a half of Kheroda we passed through Khairsana, a large charity-village belonging to the Brahmans.

Kheroda is a respectable place, having a fortress with double ditches, which can be filled at pleasure from the river. Being situated on the highroad between the ancient and modern capitals, it was always a bone of contention in the civil wars. It was in the hands of Rawat Jai Singh of Lawa, the adopted heir of Sangram Saktawat, one of the great leaders in the struggles of the year 1748 [A.D. 1691], an epoch as well known in Mewar as the 1745 of Scotland. Being originally a fiscal possession, and from its position not to be trusted to the hands of any of the feudal chiefs, it was restored to the sovereign; though it was not without difficulty that the riever of Lawa agreed to sign the constitution of the 4th of May,^[2] and relinquish to his sovereign a stronghold which had been purchased with the blood of his kindred.

Tribal Feuds.

—The history of Kheroda would afford an excellent illustration of the feuds of Mewar. In that between Sangram Singh the Saktawat, and Bhairon Singh Chondawat, both of these chief clans of Mewar lost the best of their defenders. In 1733 Sangram, then but a youth (his father, Lalji, Rawat of 1623Sheogarh, being yet alive), took Kheroda from his sovereign, and retained it six years. In 1740 the rival clans of Deogarh, Amet, Kurabar, etc., under their common head, the chief of Salumbar, and having their acts legalized by the presence of the Dahipra minister, united to expel the Saktawat. Sangram held out four months; when he hoisted a flag of truce and agreed to capitulate, on [594] condition that he should be permitted to retreat unmolested, with all his followers and effects, to Bhindar, the capital of the Saktawats. This condition was granted, and the heir of Sheogarh was received into Bhindar. Here he commenced his depredations, the adventures attending which are still the topics of numerous tales. In one of his expeditions to the estate of Kurabar he carried off both the cattle and the inhabitants of Gurli. Zalim Singh, the heir of Kurabar, came to the rescue, but was laid low by the lance of Sangram. To revenge his death, every Chondawat of the country assembled round the banner of Salumbar; the sovereign himself espoused their cause, and with his mercenary bands of Sindis succeeded in investing Bhindar. During the siege Arjun of Kurabar, bent on revenge for the loss of his heir, determined to surprise Sheogarh, which he effected, and spared neither age nor sex.^[3] Kheroda remained attached to the fisc during several years, when the Rana, with a thoughtlessness which has nourished these feuds, granted it to Sardar Singh, the Chondawat chief of Badesar. In S. 1746 the Chondawats were in rebellion and disgrace, and their rivals, under the chief of Bhindar, assembled their kindred to drive out the Sindi garrison, who held Kheroda for their foe. Arjun of Kurabar, with the Sindi Koli, came to aid the garrison, and an action ensued under the walls, in which Sangram slew with his own hand two of the principal subordinates of Kurabar, namely, Guman the Sakarwal, and Bhimji Ranawat. Nevertheless, the Chondawats gained the day, and the Saktawats again retired on Bhindar. There they received a reinforcement sent by Zalim Singh of Kotah (who fostered all these disputes, trusting that eventually he should be able to snatch the bone of contention from both), and a band of Arabs, and with this aid they returned to the attack. The Chondawats, who, with the auxiliaries of Sind, were encamped in the plains of Akola, willingly accepted the challenge, but were defeated; Sindi Koli, leader of the auxiliaries, was slain, and the 1624force was entirely dispersed. Sangram, who headed this and every assault against the rival clan, was wounded in three places; but this he accounted nothing, having thereby obtained the regard of his sovereign, and the expulsion of his rival from Kheroda, which remained attached to the fisc until the year 1758, when, on the payment of a fine of ten thousand rupees, the estate was assigned to him under the royal signature. This was in the year A.D. 1802, from which period until 1818, when we had to mediate between the Rana and his chiefs, Kheroda remained a trophy of the superior courage and tact of the Saktawats. No wonder that the Rawat Jai Singh of Lawa, the adopted heir of Sangram, was averse to renounce Kheroda. He went so far as [595] to man its walls, and forbid any communication with the servants of his sovereign: the slightest provocation would have compelled a siege and assault, in which all the Chondawats of the country would gladly have joined, and the old feuds might have been revived on the very dawn of disfranchisement from the yoke of the Mahrattas. But what will be thought of this transaction when it is stated that the lord of Kheroda was at this time at court the daily companion of his sovereign! Although the dependants of Jai Singh would have fired on any one of his master’s servants who ventured to its walls, and, according to our notions, he was that moment a rebel both to his prince and the paramount protector, not an uncourtly phrase was ever heard, nor could it be discovered that the Rana and the Rawat stood in any other relation than as the gracious sovereign and the loyal subject. These matters are conveniently managed: all the odium of discussion is left to the Kamdars, or delegates of the prince and the chief, between whom not the least diminution of courteous etiquette would be observable, whilst there remained a hope of adjustment. Asiatics do not count the moments which intervene between the conception and consummation of an undertaking as do those of colder climes. In all their transactions they preserve more composure, which, whatever be its cause, lends an air of dignity to their proceedings. I have risen from discussion with the respective ministers of the sovereign and chieftains regarding acts involving treason, in order to join the principals in an excursion on the lake, or in the tilt-yard at the palace, where they would be passing their opinions on the points of a horse, with mutual courtesy and affability. This is no unamiable feature 1625in the manners of the East, and tends to strengthen the tie of fraternity which binds together the fabric of Rajput policy.

Agriculture at Kheroda.

—The agricultural economy of Kheroda, which discovers distinct traces of the patriarchal system, is not without interest. Kheroda is a tappa, or subdivision of one of the greater khalisa or fiscal districts of Mewar, and consists of fourteen townships, besides their hamlets. It is rated at 14,500 rupees of yearly rent, of which itself furnishes 3500. The land, though generally of a good quality, is of three classes, namely, piwal, or watered from wells; gorma, also irrigated land, extending three or four khets, or fields, around the village; and mar or mal, depending on the heavens alone for moisture. As has been already stated, there are two harvests, namely, the unalu (from ushna, ‘heat’), or summer-harvest; and the siyalu (from sita, ‘cold’), the winter or autumnal [596]. The share of the crown, as in all the ancient Hindu governments, is taken in kind, and divided as follows:—Of the first, or unalu crop, consisting of wheat, barley, and gram, the produce is formed into khallas (piles or heaps) of one hundred maunds each; these are subdivided into four parts, of twenty-five maunds each. The first operation is to provide from one of these the serana, or one ser on each maund, to each individual of the village-establishment: namely, the Patel, or head-man; the Patwari, register or accountant; the Shahnah, or watchman; the Balahi, or messenger and also general herdsman;^[4] the Kathi (alias Sutar) or carpenter; the Lohar, or blacksmith; the Kumhar, or potter; the Dhobi, or washerman; the Chamar, who is shoemaker, carrier, and scavenger; the Nai, or barber-surgeon. These ten seranas, or one ser on each khalla, or two maunds and a half to each individual, swallow up one of the subdivisions. Of the three remaining parts, one share, or twenty-five maunds, goes to the Raj, or sovereign, and two to the ryot, or cultivator, after deducting a serana of two maunds for the heir-apparent, which is termed Kunwar-matka, or ‘pot for the prince.’ An innovation of late years has been practised on the portion belonging to the village, from which no less than 1626three seranas of one maund each are deducted, previous to subdivision amongst the ten village officers; namely, one ‘pot for the prince,’ another for the Rana’s chief groom, and a third for his Modi, or steward of the grain department. These all go to the government, which thus realizes thirty maunds out of each hundred, or three-tenths, instead of one-fourth, according to ancient usage. But the village-establishment has an additional advantage before the grain is thrashed out; this is the kirpa or sheaf from every bigha (a third of an acre) of land cultivated to each individual; and each sheaf is reckoned to yield from five to seven sers of grain. The reapers are also allowed small kirpas or sheaves, yielding two or three sers each; and there were various little larcenies permitted, under the terms of dantani and chabani, indicating they were allowed the use of their teeth (dant) while reaping: so that in fact they fed (chabna, ‘to bite or masticate’) upon roasted heads of Indian corn and maize.

Of the siyalu crop, which consists of makkai, or Indian corn, and juar and bajra, or millet, with the different pulses, the process of distribution is as follows. From every khalla, or heap of one hundred maunds, forty are set apart for the Raj or government, and the rest, after deducting the seranas of the village-establishment, goes to the cultivator.

On the culture of sugar-cane, cotton, indigo, opium, tobacco, til or sesamum, and [597] the various dyes, there has always been a fixed money-rent, varying from two to ten rupees per bigha.

Sugar-Cane Cultivation.

—There is nothing so uncertain in its results as the cultivation of sugar-cane, which holds out a powerful lure for dishonesty to the collector for the crown.crown. But it is asserted here that the ryot had no option, being compelled to cultivate, in due proportion, cane, opium, and grain, from the same charsa^[5] or well. A rough estimate of the expense attending the culture of a charsa, or what may be irrigated by one well, may not be uninteresting. Let us take, first, one bigha of cane, and no more can be watered with one pair of oxen, premising that the cane is planted in the month of Aghan, and reaped in the same month next year; that is, after a whole twelvemonth of labour:

It will be observed that the grower’s whole expenses are charged; besides, to make up, we must calculate from the labour of the same two men and cattle, the produce profit of one bigha of opium and four bighas of wheat and barley, as follows:

Sometimes, though rarely, the cane is sold standing, at four to five rupees the thousand; but, occasionally, the whole crop is lost, if the cane should unfortunately flower, when it is rooted up and burnt, or given to the cattle, being unfit for the use of man. 1628This may be superstition; though the cultivators of the cane in the West Indies may perhaps say that the deterioration of the plant would render it not worth the trouble of extracting the juice.^[8] I shall here conclude this rough sketch of the agricultural economy of Kheroda, which may be taken as a fair specimen of the old system throughout Mewar, with remarking that, notwithstanding the laws of Manu,^[9] inscriptions on stone, and tradition, which constitute in fact the customary law of Rajputana, make the rent in kind far lighter than what we have just recorded, yet the cultivator could not fail to thrive if even this system were maintained. But constant warfare, the necessities of the prince, with the cupidity and poverty of the revenue officers, have superadded vexatious petty demands, as khar-lakar (wood and forage), and ghar-ginti (house-tax); the first of which was a tax of one rupee annually on every bigha of land in cultivation, and the other the same on each house or hut inhabited. Even the kaid sali, or triennial fine on the headman and the register, was levied by these again on the cultivators. But besides these regular taxes, there was no end to irregular exactions of barar and dand, or forced contributions, until, at length, the country became the scene of desolation from which it is only now emerging.

Hīnta, January 30.—This was a short march of three and a half coss, or nine miles, over the same extensive plain of rich black loam, or mal, whence the province of Malwa has its name.^[10] We were on horseback long before sunrise; the air was pure and invigorating; the peasantry were smiling at the sight of the luxuriant young crops of wheat, barley, and gram, aware that no ruthless hand could now step between them and the bounties of Heaven. Fresh thatch, or rising walls, gave signs of the exiles’ return, who greeted us, at each step of our journey, with blessings and looks of joy mingled with sadness. Passed the hamlet, or 1629purwa, of Amarpura, attached to Kheroda, and to our left the township of Mainar, held in sasan^[11] (religious grant) by a community of Brahmans. This place affords a fine specimen of “the wisdom of ancestors” in Mewar, where fifty thousand bighas, or about sixteen thousand acres of the richest crown land, have been given in perpetuity to these drones of society; and although there are only twenty families left of this holy colony, said to have been planted by Raja Mandhata in the Treta-yug, or silver age of India, yet superstition and indolence conspire to prevent the resumption even of those portions which have none to cultivate them. A “sixty thousand [599] years’ residence in hell” is undoubtedly no comfortable prospect, and to those who subscribe to the doctrine of transmigration, it must be rather mortifying to pass from the purple of royalty into “a worm in ordure,” one of the delicate purgatories which the Rajput soul has to undergo, before it can expiate the offence of resuming the lands of the church! I was rejoiced, however, to find that some of “the sons of Sakta,” as they increased in numbers, in the inverse ratio of their possessions, deemed it better to incur all risks than emigrate to foreign lands in search of bhum; and both Hinta and Dundia have been established on the lands of the church. Desirous of preserving every right of every class, I imprecated on my head all the anathemas of the order, if the Rana should resume all beyond what the remnant of this family could require. I proposed that a thousand bighas of the best land should be retained by them; that they should not only be furnished with cattle, seed, and implements of agriculture, but that there should be wells cleared out, or fresh ones dug for them. At this time, however, the astrologer was a member of the cabinet, and being also physician in ordinary, he, as one of the order, protected his brethren of Menar, who, as may be supposed, were in vain called upon to produce the tamra-pattra, or copper-plate warrant, for these lands.

Māndhāta Rāja.

—Mandhata Raja,^[12] a name immortalized in the 1630topography of these regions, was of the Pramar tribe, and sovereign of Central India, whose capitals were Dhar and Ujjain; and although his period is uncertain, tradition uniformly assigns him priority to Vikramaditya, whose era (fifty-six years anterior to the Christian) prevails throughout India. There are various spots on the Nerbudda which perpetuate his name, especially where that grand stream forms one of its most considerable rapids. Chitor, with all its dependencies, was but an appanage of the sovereignty of Dhar in these early times, nor can we move a step without discovering traces of their paramount sway in all these regions: and in the spot over which I am now moving, the antiquary might without any difficulty fill his portfolio. Both Hinta and Dundia, the dependencies of Mainar, are brought in connexion with the name of Mandhata, who performed the grand rite of Aswamedha, or sacrifice of the horse, at Dundia, where they still point out the kund, or ‘pit of sacrifice.’ Two Rishis, or ‘holy men,’ of Hinta attended Mandhata, who, on the conclusion of the ceremony, presented them the customary pān, or ‘offering,’ which they rejected; but on taking leave, the Raja delicately contrived to introduce into the bira of pan, a grant for the lands of Mainar. The gift, though unsolicited, was fatal to their sanctity, and the miracles which they had hitherto [600] been permitted to form, ceased with the possession of Mammon. Would the reader wish to have an instance of these miracles? After their usual manifold ablutions, and wringing the moisture of their dhoti, or garment, they would fling it into the air, where it remained suspended over their head, as a protection against the sun’s rays. On the loss of their power, these saints became tillers of the ground. Their descendants hold the lands of Mainar, and are spread over this tract, named Bara Chaubisa, ‘the great twenty-four!’

We also passed in this morning’s march the village of Bahmania, having a noble piece of water maintained by a strong embankment of masonry. No less than four thousand bighas are attached. It was fiscal land, but had been usurped during the troubles, and being nearly depopulated, had escaped observation. At this moment it is in the hands of Moti Pasban,^[13] the favourite handmaid 1631of “the Sun of the Hindus.” This ‘Pearl’ (moti) pretends to have obtained it as a mortgage, but it would be difficult to show a lawful mortgager. Near the village of Bansera, on the estate of Fateh Singh, brother of Bhindar, we passed a seura or sula, a pillar or land-mark, having a grant of land inscribed thereon with the usual denunciations, attested by an image of the sacred cow, engraved in slight relief, as witness to the intention of the donor.

Hinta was a place of some consequence in the civil wars, and in S. 1808 (A.D. 1752) formed the appanage of one of the Babas, or infants of the court, of the Maharaja Sawant Singh. It now belongs to a subordinate Saktawat, and was the subject of considerable discussion in the treaty of resumption of the 4th of May 1818, between the Rana and his chiefs.

It was the scene of a gallant exploit in S. 1812, when ten thousand Mahrattas, led by Satwa, invaded Mewar. Raj Singh, of the Jhala tribe, the chief of Sadri,^[14] and descendant of the hero who rescued that first of Rajput princes, Rana Partap, had reached the town of Hinta in his passage from court to Sadri, when he received intelligence that the enemy was at Salera, only three miles distant. He was recommended to make a slight detour and go by Bhindar; but having no reason for apprehension, he rejected the advice, and proceeded on his way. He had not travelled half-a-mile, when they fell in with the marauders, who looked upon his small but well-mounted band as legitimate prey. But, in spite of the odds, they preferred death to the surrender of their equipments, and an action ensued, in which the Raj, after performing miracles of valour, regained the fort, with eight only of his three hundred and fifty retainers. The news reaching Kushal Singh, the chief of Bhindar, who, besides the [601] sufficient motive of Rajputi, or ‘chivalry,’ was impelled by friendship and matrimonial connexion, he assembled a trusty band, and marched to rescue his friend from captivity and his estate from mortgage for his ransom. This little phalanx amounted only to five hundred men, all Saktawats, and of whom three-fourths were on foot. 1632They advanced in a compact mass, with lighted matches, the cavaliers on either flank, with Kushal at their head, denouncing death to the man who quitted his ranks, or fired a shot without orders. They were soon surrounded by the cloud of Mahratta horse; but resolve was too manifest in the intrepid band even for numbers to provoke the strife. They thus passed over the immense plain between Bhindar and Hinta, the gates of which they had almost reached, when, as if ashamed at seeing their prey thus snatched from their grasp, the word was given, “Barchhi de!” and a forest of Mahratta lances, each twelve feet long, bristled against the Saktawats. Kushal called a halt, wheeled his cavaliers to the rear, and allowed the foe to come within pistol-shot, when a well-directed volley checked their impetuosity, and threw them into disorder. The little band of cavalry seized the moment and charged in their turn, gave time to load again, and returned to their post to allow a second volley. The gate was gained, and the Sadri chief received into the ranks of deliverers. Elated with success, the Maharaja promptly determined rather to fight his way back than coop himself up in Hinta, and be starved into surrender; all seconded the resolution of their chief, and with little comparative loss they regained Bhindar. This exploit is universally known, and related with exultation, as one of the many brilliant deeds of “the sons of Sakta,” of whom the Maharaja Kushal Singh was conspicuous for worth, as well as gallantry.

Morwan,^[15] January 31.—The last day of January (with the thermometer 50° at daybreak) brought us to the limits of Mewar. I could not look on its rich alienated lands without the deepest regret, or see the birthright of its chieftains devolve on the mean Mahratta or ruthless Pathan, without a kindling of the spirit towards the heroes of past days, in spite of the vexations their less worthy descendants occasion me; less worthy, yet not worthless, for having left my cares behind me with the court, where the stubbornness of some, the voices and intrigues of others, and the apathy of all, have deeply injured my health. There is something magical in absence; it throws a deceitful medium between us and the objects we have quitted, which exaggerates their amiable qualities, and curtails the proportions of their vices. I 1633look upon Mewar as the land of my adoption, and, linked with all the associations of my early hopes and [602] their actual realization, I feel inclined to exclaim with reference to her and her unmanageable children,

The virtues owe an immense debt to the present feudal nobility, not only of Mewar but of Rajputana, and it is to be hoped that the rising generation will pay to it what has been withheld by the past; that energy and temperance will supersede opium and the juice of the mahua,^[16] and riding in the ring, replace the siesta, and the tabor (tabla) and lute. I endeavoured to banish some of these incentives to degeneracy; nor is there a young chieftain, from the heir-apparent to the throne to the aspirant to a skin of land (when opportunity was granted), from whom I have not exacted a promise, never to touch that debasing drug, opium. Some may break this pledge, but many will keep it; especially those whose minority I protected against court-faction and avarice: such a one as Arjun Singh, the young chief of Basai, of the Sangawat branch of the Chondawat clan. His grandfather (for his father was dead) had maintained the old castle and estate, placed on the elevated Uparmal, against all attempts of the Mahrattas, but had incurred the hatred of Bhim Singh of Salumbar, the head of his clan, who in S. 1846 dispossessed him, and installed a junior branch in the barony of Basai. But the energetic Takht Singh regained his lost rights, and maintained them, until civil broils and foreign foes alike disappeared, on their connexion with the British in 1818. Then the veteran chief, with his grandson, repaired to court, to unite in the general homage to their prince with the assembled chiefs of Mewar. But poverty and the remembrance of old feuds combined to dispossess the youth, and the amount of fine (ten thousand rupees) had actually been fixed for the installation of the interloper, who was supported by all the influence of the chief of Salumbar. This first noble of Mewar tried to avail himself of my friendship to uphold the cause of his protégé, Barad Singh, whom he often brought me to visit, as did old Takhta his grandson. Both were of the same age, thirteen; the aspirant to Basai, fair and stout, but heavy in his looks; 1634while the possessor, Arjun, was spare, dark, and beaming with intelligence. Merit and justice on one side; stupidity and power on the other. But there were duties to be performed; and the old Thakur’s appeal was not heard in vain. “Swamidharma and this” (putting his hand to his sword), said the aged chief, “have hitherto preserved our rights; now, the cause of [603] the child is in his sovereign’s hands and yours; but here money buys justice, and right yields to favour.” The Rana, though he had assented to the views of Salumbar, left the case to my adjudication. I called both parties before me, and in their presence, from their respective statements, sketched the genealogical tree, exhibiting in the remote branches the stripling’s competitors, which I showed to the Rana. Ever prone to do right when not swayed by faction, he confirmed Arjun’s patent, which he had given him three years previously, and girt him with the sword of investiture. This contest for his birthright was of great advantage to the youth; for his grandfather was selected to command the quotas for the defence of the frontier fortress of Jahazpur, a duty which he well performed; and his grandson accompanied him and was often left in command while he looked after the estate. Both came to visit me at Chitor. Arjun was greatly improved during his two years’ absence from the paternal abode, and promises to do honour to the clan he belongs to. Amongst many questions, I asked “If he had yet taken to his amal?” to which he energetically replied, “My fortunes will be cracked indeed, if ever I forget any injunction of yours.”

But a truce to digression: the whole village Panchayat has been waiting this half hour under the spreading bar ^[17] tree, to tell me, in the language of homely truth, khush hain Compani sahib ke partap se, that “by the auspices of Sir Company they are happy; and that they hope I may live a thousand years.”

I must, therefore, suspend my narrative, whilst I patiently listen till midnight to dismal tales of sterile fields, exhausted funds, exiles unreturned, and the depredations of the wild mountain Bhil [604].

The Chief of Hīnta.

—I was not deceived; it is now midnight, but, late as it is, I will introduce to the readers a few of my visitors. The chief of Hinta, who was absent at his patrimonial estate of Kun, on the hills of Chappan,^[1] sent his brother and his homme d’affaires to make his compliments to me, and express his regret that he could not offer them personally at Hinta, which he said was “my own township.” This was not mere customary civility. Hinta had been taken by the Saktawats soon after the commencement of the civil wars of S. 1824, which was within the period (A.D. 1766) fixed by the general arrangements of the 4th of May 1818, for restitution; and it was impossible, without departing from the principle on which they were based, that the chief should retain it, though he could plead the prescriptive right of half-a-century.

The discussions regarding Hinta were consequently very warm: the renunciation of ten valuable townships by the Maharaja Zorawar Singh of Bhindar, the head of the Saktawat clans, did not annoy the Bhindar chief so much as his failure to retain Hinta as one of his minor feuds: nay, the surrender of Arja, the price of blood, a far more important castle and domain, by his own brother Fateh Singh (the original acquisition of which sealed the conclusion of a long-standing feud), excited less irritation than the demand that Hinta should revert to the fisc. “It is the key of Bhindar,” said the head of the clan. “It was a Saktawat allotment from the first,” exclaimed his brother. “The Ranawat was an interloper,” cried another. “It is my bapota, the abode of my fathers,” was the more feeling expression of the occupant. It was no light task to deal with such arguments; especially when an appeal to the dictates of reason and justice was thwarted by the stronger impulse of self-interest. But in a matter involving so important a stipulation of the treaty, which required “that all fiscal possessions which, since S. 1822 (A.D. 1766), the commencement of the civil wars, had, by whatever means, passed from the Rana to the chieftains, should be reclaimed,” firmness was essential to the success of a measure on which [605] depended 1636the restoration of order. The Saktawats behaved nobly, and with a purely patriotic spirit throughout the scene, when almost all had to relinquish important possessions. The issue was, that Hinta, with its domain, after remaining twelve months incorporated with the fisc, was restored to Zorawar, but curtailed of Dundia and its twelve hundred acres, which, though united to Hinta, was a distinct township in the old records. Having paid ten thousand rupees as the fine of relief, the chief was girt with the sword, and re-established in his bapota, to the great joy of the whole clan.

Hinta is burdened with the service of fourteen horse and fourteen foot; its rekh, or nominal value, in the patta-bahi, or ‘record of fiefs,’ being seven thousand rupees; but, in consideration of the impoverished condition of his estate, the chief was only called on to furnish five horse and eight foot. The present possessor of Hinta is an adoption from the chieftainship of Kun; but, contrary to established usage, he holds both Hinta and Kun, his parent fief, whereby he has a complex character, and conflicting duties to fulfil. As chief of Kun, he belongs to the third class of nobles, styled gol, and is subject to constant personal attendance on the Rana; as lord of Hinta, too, he has to furnish a quota to serve “at home or abroad!” Being compelled to appear at court in person, his quota for Hinta was placed under the charge of Man Singh (another of the Saktawat sub-vassalage), and was sent to the thana of little Sadri, on the Malwa frontier, to guard it from the depredations of the forester Bhil. But I was commissioned by the Rana to reprimand the representative of Hinta, and to threaten him with the re-sequestration of the estate, if he did not better perform the service for which he held it. In consequence of this remonstrance, I became acquainted with a long tale of woe; and Man Singh’s vindication from a failure of duty will introduce a topic worthy of notice connected with the feudal system of Mewar, namely, the subdivision of fiefs.

Man Singh Saktawat is a younger branch of the Lawa family, and one of the infants who escaped the massacre of Sheogarh, when Lalji Rawat and two generations were cut off to avenge the feud with Kurabar. In order, however, to understand the claims of Man Singh, we must go back to the period when Lalji Rawat was lord of Nethara, which, for some offence, or through some court-intrigue, was resumed, and bestowed on one of the rival clan of 1637Chondawat. Being a younger branch of the Bansi family (one of the senior subdivisions of Bhindar), Lalji was but slenderly provided for in the family allotment (bat). On losing Nethara, he repaired to Dungarpur, whose Rawal gave him a grant of Sheogarh, an almost inaccessible fort on the [606] borders of the two countries. Thus compelled, through faction, to seek subsistence out of his native soil, Lalji renounced his loyalty, and with his sons, now Barwatias or ‘outlaws,’ resolved to prey upon Mewar. They now looked to Bhindar, the head of their clan, as their lord, and joined him in opposing their late sovereign in the field, levying blackmail from the estates of their rivals; or, when the influence of the latter sunk at court, and was supplanted by the clan of Saktawat, Lalji poised his lance in the train of his chief in defence of the throne. Thus passed his life, a chequered course of alternate loyalty and treason, until its tragical close at Sheogarh.^[2]

Sangram Singh, the eldest son of Lalji,^[3] with his infant nephews, Jai Singh and Nahar (who was absent), escaped the avenger’s sword, under which perished his father, mother, both brothers, and all his own children, at one fell swoop! Sangram succeeded to the possession of Sheogarh, and to the feuds of his family. His nephew, young Nahar, joined in all his enterprises, from the defence of Kheroda to the escalade and capture of the castle of Lawa, in which he maintained himself until the Rana not only pardoned him, but gave him precedence above his enemies in his own councils.

Lawa was wrested by Sangram Singh Saktawat from Sangram Singh the Dudia, an ancient tribe, but like many others little known, until the incident we are about to relate gave it a momentary gleam of splendour, and afforded the bard an opportunity to emblazon its fame upon his page. Even in these regions, so full of strange vicissitudes, the sudden rise of the Dudia is a favourite topic of the traditional muse of Mewar.

1638

The Dudia Clan.

—Chandrabhan was the father of this meteor of the day; his sole wealth consisted of a team of oxen, with which he tilled a few bighas of land at the base of Naharamagra, the ‘tiger mount,’ where the Rana had a ramna or preserve, for the royal sport of tiger-hunting. It was during the autumnal harvest, when the Dudia had finished his day’s work, having put up the last rick of makkai (Indian corn), as he was driving home the companions of his toil, a voice hailed him from the wood. He answered, and advanced to the spot whence it issued, where he found a stranger, evidently of rank, with his horse panting for breath. After inquiring his tribe, and [607] being told “Rajput,” the stranger begged a little water, which was supplied, along with two coarse cakes of makkai, and a little chana-ka-dal, pulse cooked with ghi, or clarified butter, which the honest Dudia took out of a cloth not over clean. Having performed all the other duties which hospitality requires, the Dudia made his salaam, and was about to depart, when a train of horsemen coming in sight, he paused to look at them. All went up to the stranger; and, from the profound respect paid to him, he found that he had entertained no common guest.

It was in fact his sovereign, the Rana Jagat Singh, who delighted in the chase, and having that day been bewildered in the intricacies of Naharamagra, had stumbled on the Dudia carle. The latter expressed neither surprise nor delight when introduced to the Rana, and replied to all his questions with the frankness that grows out of the sentiment of honest pride and independence, which never abandons a Rajput, whatever be his condition.^[4] The Rana was so much pleased with his rustic host, that he commanded a led horse to be brought forth, and desired the Dudia would accompany him to Udaipur, only ten miles distant. ‘The rocket of the moon’^[5] (Chandrabhan), in his peasant’s garb, bestrode the noble charger with as much ease as if it were habitual to him. The next day the Dudia was conducted to the Presence, and invested with a dress which had been worn by his 1639sovereign (a distinguished mark of royal favour), accompanied with the more solid reward of the grant of Kuwaria and its lands in perpetuity.

Chandrabhan and his benefactor died about the same time. Rana Raj had succeeded to the throne of Mewar, and Sardar Singh, son of Chandrabhan, did personal service for the lands of Kuwaria. It was a source of daily amusement for the prince and his youthful associates to plunge into the fountain at the Saheli-ki-bari,^[6] a villa about two miles from the capital, on which occasions reserve was banished, and they gave themselves up to unrestrained mirth. The young Dudia had some peculiarities, which made him a butt for their wit. The following incident will show the character of these princely pastimes. It was one day remarked, that when refreshing in the kund, or reservoir, Sardar Singh did not lay aside his turban, which provoked a suspicion that he had no hair. The Rana, impatient to get a peep at the bare head of [608] the son of Chandrabhan, proposed that they should push each other into the water. The sport began, and the Dudia’s turban falling off, disclosed the sad truth. The jest, however, was not relished by Sardar; and he tartly replied, in answer to his sovereign’s question, “what had become of his hair?” that “he had lost it in his service, in a former birth, as Chela,^[7] by carrying wood upon his head to feed the flame, when his sovereign, as a jogi, or ascetic, performed penance (tapasya) in the hills of Badarinath.” The prince felt that he had violated decorum; but the reply was pregnant with sarcasm, and his dignity must be maintained. “Sardar must bring proof of his assertion, or punishment awaits him,” was the rejoinder. The young chief, in the same lofty tone, offered the evidence of the Deota (divinity) of the temple of Kuwaria. This was a witness whose testimony could not be impugned, and he had leave to bring it forward.

At the village of Gopalpur, attached to his estate of Kuwaria, was a temple of the Bagrawats, a tribe little known, having a shrine of their divinity, who was personified by an image 1640with a tiger’s (bagh) head.^[8] “He invoked his support on this occasion, when the Deota threw him the flower ^[9] in his hand, and desired him to carry it to his sovereign.” He did so, and the Rana’s faith was too great to dispute the miracle. What honours could suffice for the man who had performed the most meritorious service to his prince in former transmigrations! Mang, ‘ask,’ was the sign of grace and favour. Sangram’s request was governed by moderation; it was for Lawa and its lands, which adjoined his estate at Kuwaria.

The Rana being yet a minor, and the queen-mother at the head of affairs, he hastened to her to be released from the debt of gratitude. But Lawa, unluckily, was held by herself; and although she was not heretic enough to doubt the miraculous tale, she thought the Dudia might have selected any other land but hers, and testily replied to her son’s request, that “he might give him Mewar if he chose.” Displeased at this unaccommodating tone, the prince quickly rejoined, “Mewar shall be his, then.” The word of a prince is sacred; he sent for Sangram, and thus addressed him: “I give you Mewar for the space of three days; make the best use of your time; my arsenals, my armouries, my treasury, my stables, my throne and its ministers, are at your command.”^[10] The temporary Rana availed himself of this large [609] power, and conveyed to his estate whatever he had a mind to. During the abdication Sardar held his court, though he had too much tact actually to press the cushion of his master; but seated himself on one side of the vacant throne, attended by all the nobles, fully impressed with the sanctity of the individual who had attained such distinction. On the third day the queen-mother sent her son the patent for Lawa; and on the fourth the Dudia surrendered the sceptre.

With the wealth thus acquired, he erected a castle in his domain of Lawa, on which he expended nine lakhs of rupees, about £100,000. He formed a lake; and a single baori or reservoir, in the fort, cost another lakh. He built a splendid palace, whose 1641china and mirror-halls are still the theme of encomium. These were greatly defaced by an explosion of a powder-magazine, which threw down half the fortress that had taken twenty years to complete; and though it underwent considerable repairs, it lost much of its splendour, which the guns of Holkar aided to diminish: but the castle of Lawa is still one of the finest in Mewar. Sardar Singh had also a grant of one of the royal mahalls or palaces of Udaipur, erected on the margin of the lake, after the model of the Jagmandir.^[11] Although it now belongs to the chief of Amet, it is only recognized as the Dudia-ka-mahall; but its halls are the dwelling of the bat and the owl; the bar^[12] has taken root in its light, airy porticoes, and its walls have every direction but the perpendicular. Sardar lived twenty years after the erection of Lawa; he died in S. 1838 (A.D. 1782), leaving one son, the heir of his honours and estates. Throughout his long life he lost no portion of the respect paid to his early years; but with him the name of Dudia again sunk into obscurity, or lived but as a memento of the instability of fortune. It was this son who, when driven from Lawa by Sangram Singh Saktawat, had no place of shelter, and died in indigence and obscurity. His son (grandson of Sardar, and great-grandson of the ‘rocket of the moon’) is now patronized by the heir-apparent, Prince Jawan Singh, and receives a daily allowance, but has not a foot of land.

Sangram, the Saktawat, had a regular sanad for the fief of Lawa, which was rated at twenty-three thousand rupees of annual rent, while Kuwaria has reverted to the fisc. The lake of Lawa, which irrigates some thousand acres of rice-land, alone renders it one of the most desirable of the secondary estates of Mewar. Sangram’s children being all murdered in the feud of Sheogarh, he was succeeded by Jai Singh (son [610] of Sheo Singh, his second brother), who was received as kaula, or son of adoption, by all the retainers of Lawa. While Sangram Singh lived, no subdivision of allotments took place; all, to use the words of Man Singh, “ate out of one dish”; and his own father Nahar, who had aided in the enterprise, having by a similar coup de main secured the estate of Banwal for himself, no necessity for such partition existed. But Banwal belonging to the fisc, to which it reverted on the restoration of order in A.D. 1818, young Man 1642had no alternative but to turn round on Jai Singh, the adopted heir of Sangram, and demand his bat, or share of the lands of Lawa, in virtue of the right of joint acquisition, and as a younger brother. Jai Singh refused; but custom prevailed, and the village of Jethpura, of fifteen hundred rupees’ annual revenue, was bestowed upon the son of Nahar Singh. So long as Man Singh performed his duties to his chief, his share of Lawa was irresumable and inalienable: hence the stubborn tenacity of the chiefs of their share in the patrimonial acres, even when holding largely, but separately, of the crown, since of the latter, caprice or intrigue may deprive them; but their own misconduct alone can forfeit their bapota. The simple deed of conveyance will better establish this point!

“At this time, Brother Man Singh, I bestow upon thee, of my own free will, the village and lands of Jethpura. This donative shall not look to ranrkas: suput, kuput:^[13] your issue shall enjoy them. Of this intention I call the four-armed divinity (Chaturbhuj)^[14] as witness. You are my own child (chhora): wherever and whenever I order, you will do my service: if you fail, the fault be on your own head.”

Case of Mān Singh.

—Whether Man Singh failed in his duty to his superior, or otherwise, Jethpura was resumed; and having in vain endeavoured to obtain justice through the ministers, he came to me to solicit attention to his case. With the resumption of Kheroda, his brother, the chief of Lawa, lost half his nominal income; and it may therefore be conjectured he would not be slow to listen to any charge against Man, by which he might get back his allotment. On my departure for Marwar, in August 1820, he had written to me to say that Jai Singh had summoned him to evacuate Jethpura. In my reply, I said it was a matter for the Rana alone to decide. He accordingly went to court, and failing there, followed me; but, as at my desire he had been appointed to head the quotas on the Sadri frontier, and had performed this duty very negligently, I [611] received him coolly; 1643this, however, only gave additional eagerness to his defence, as he assigned strong personal reasons for the neglect. But the son of ‘the tiger’ (Nahar Singh) shall speak for himself. Let the reader imagine a young man of twenty-five, above six feet high, of an athletic figure and chivalrous demeanour, his expression at once modest and independent, with those indispensable appendages to a Rajput warrior’s visage, well-trimmed favoris and moustache, and armed at all points: such was the lord-marcher (Simiswar), Man Singh. Having presented his patent for my perusal, he continued: “Had I failed in my obligations to my brother, he would have been justified in this step; but since you took Banwal from me, my retainers, at his beck, equalled his own in numbers; what right therefore had he to resume Jethpura? When Sangram Singh died, Lawa was in my hands: who could have prevented my keeping it, had it been my pleasure? The son of Nahar Singh would have been preferred by the vassals of Sangram to one they had never even seen; but I respected his rights, though even now he could not forcibly dispossess me. When the Thakur of Amet, on his way to court, beat his drums on the bounds of Lawa, did I not assemble my retainers and avenge the insult to my chief? My head was Jai Singh’s—that is, with the kunguras (battlements) of Lawa; but he never could have dared to take Jethpura, had not respect for the chief of Lawa, respect for the Rana, and for you, made me passive. Only bid me retake it, and I am not the son of Nahar Singh if he keeps it a day. Its little castle, erected by these hands, sheltered my wife and children, who, now expelled from my patrimony, are compelled to seek refuge elsewhere. The lands assigned me in lieu of Banwal are waste. For every rupee I can hope to derive from them, I must expend one; and on Jethpura alone could I raise any funds. Reckoning on this, I paid my fine of two thousand five hundred rupees for my paita (grant), and from its produce I looked to maintain my family and followers until the first should be made productive. When I lost this support, my creditors assailed me: to satisfy them, I sold all I had of value, even to my wife’s jewels, and the horse you saw me ride when I came to meet you at Gangapur. I laid my case before Prithinath,^[15] and here is his reply, deciding in my favour. I represented it through Jawandas (a natural brother of the Rana), and five hundred rupees were 1644demanded and agreed to by me, provided bachan (security) was given me of success. The Bikaneriji’s ^[16] was given; but the purse of the Thakur of Jethpura is not so long as the chieftain of Lawa’s, and one thousand rupees, offered by him, made his the juster cause! It is [612] this that makes me negligent of my duty; this which incited the Pathans to carry off my little harvest from Salera; and Bhairawi ^[17] is still in the hands of the foresters. Here is my case: if I demand aught that is not just, or that is contrary to usage, deal with me as you please. There is Fateh Singh, who holds in separate grant from the Rana an estate of thirty thousand rupees; but as a younger brother of Bhindar, he enjoys five thousand from his brother: and Ajit Singh of Asind,^[18] though richer than his immediate head of Kurabar, yet, as the son of Arjun Singh, holds his allotment (bat) from him: but you know all this, why should I repeat it?” Here the Thakur concluded, without any interruption being given to his animated harangue, the interest of which was enhanced by his natural eloquence, and his manly but modest deportment. He is a noble specimen, not of his tribe alone, but of the human character. His appeal was irresistible; and would almost have carried conviction of its justice, even to those who could not have understood his tongue. Still it was requisite to steel myself against impulses; and I recommended, as the best mode of enabling me to advocate his cause, that he should repair to his post, and establish fresh claims to his sovereign’s regard, by punishing an atrocious act which in all probability his absence had occasioned. With the gift of a brace of pistols, and the usual leave-taking hint of itr-pan, Man Singh quitted my tent.

A Foray of the Bhīls.

—And now for the melancholy occurrence which preceded that of the young Saktawat. On the borders of Little Sadri, where the quotas are posted, is a mountainous tract covered with deep forest, the abode of the half-savage Minas and Bhils. Mixed with them are the estates of some vassal chiefs, whose duty it is to repress their excesses; but, in such times as we have described, they more frequently instigated them to plunder, receiving a share of the spoils. Amongst the foremost in this association was the steward of Kalakot. At the foot 1645of a pass leading into the wilds of Chappan was the hamlet of Bilia, occupied by a Rathor Rajput, who had snatched from the mountain-side a few bighas of land, and dug some wells to irrigate the arable patches about his cot. With severe toil he raised a subsistence for himself, his wife, and an only son, who was to inherit his patrimony. Returning homewards one day, after his usual labour, he was met by his wailing helpmate; she said the savage Bhil had rifled his cot, and with the cattle carried off their prop, their only child, and at the same time a young Jogi, his playmate. The afflicted father spake not a word, but loading his matchlock, took the road to Kalakot. What was his horror when [613], at the entrance of the village, he stumbled over the headless bodies of his boy and his young companion! He learned that the savages belonged to the lordship of Kalakot; that having conveyed the children from their home upon the cattle they had stolen, they were entering the place, when the young Rathor, recognizing the steward, called out, “Save me, uncle, and my father will ransom me at your own price!” This was the object for which he had been abducted; but these words proved that the steward was known to be the author of the outrage, and they were the last the child spoke. With this intelligence, the wretched father entered the ‘black-castle’ (Kalakot), in quest of the steward. He denied all participation in the abduction or the murder; and commiserating the Rathor’s misfortune, offered him four times the number of cattle he had lost, twice the amount of all his other losses, and to pay double the sum of margia, or money expended in the search. “Can you give me back my son?” was the only reply; “I want justice and vengeance, not money. I could have taken it in part,” continued he; “for what is life now? but let it fall on all.”

An Ordeal by Oath.

—No attempt at consolation could diminish the father’s grief; but in promising him my aid to realize his vengeance, I gave him hope to cling to; and on handing him over to Man Singh, saying his own suit would be best promoted by the imprisonment of all concerned in this outrage, he quitted me with some mitigation of his grief. But before he left my camp, tidings arrived that the chief culprit was beyond the reach of man; that the Great Avenger had summoned to his own tribunal the iniquitous steward of Kalakot! Even in these regions of rapine, where the blood of man and of goats is held 1646in almost equal estimation, there was something in the wild grief of the Rathor that sunk into the hearts of the vassals of Kalakot: they upbraided the steward, and urged him to confess the share he had in the deed. But he swore “by his God” he had none, and offered to ratify the oath of purgation in his temple. Nothing less would satisfy them, and they proceeded to the ordeal. The temple was but a few hundred yards distant. The steward mounted his horse, and had just reached the shrine, when he dropped dead at the threshold! It caused a deep sensation; and to the vengeance of an offended divinity was ascribed this signal expiation of the triple crime of theft, murder, and sacrilege. There now only remain the base accomplices of the wretch who thus trafficked with the liberty of his fellow-men; and I should rejoice to see them suspended on the summit of the Bilia pass, as a satisfaction to the now childless Rathor, and a warning to others who yet follow such a course [614].

CHAPTER 3

Morwan, February 1.—Yesterday, Man Singh took up the whole of my time with the feuds of Lawa and their consequences. It obliged me to halt, in order to make inquiries into the alienated lands in its vicinity. Morwan is, or rather was, a township of some consequence, and head of a tappa or subdivision of a district. It is rated, with its contiguous hamlets, at seven thousand rupees annual rent. The situation is beautiful, upon heights pleasingly diversified, with a fine lake to the westward, whose margin is studded with majestic tamarind trees. The soil is rich, and there is water in great abundance within twenty-five feet of the surface; but man is wanting! The desolation of solitude reigns throughout, for (as Rousseau observes) there is none to whom one can turn and say, que la solitude est belle!

I experienced another pang at seeing this fertile district revert to the destroyer, the savage Pathan, who had caused the desolation, and in the brief but expressive words of a Roman author, solitudinem facit, pacem appellat.^[1] Morwan is included in the lands mortgaged for a war-contribution, but which with others 1647has remained in the hands of the Mahratta mortgagees or their mercenary subordinates. But it is melancholy to reflect that, but for a false magnanimity towards our insidious, natural enemies, the Mahrattas, all these lands would have reverted to their legitimate masters, who are equally interested with ourselves in putting down predatory warfare. Justice, good policy, and humanity would have been better consulted had the Mahrattas been wholly banished from Central India. When I contrasted this scene with the traces of incipient prosperity I had left behind me, I felt a satisfaction that the alienated acres produced nothing to the possessor, save luxuriant grass, and the leafless kesula or palas [615].^[2]

Antiquities at Morwan.

—Morwan has some claims to antiquity; it derives its appellation from the Mori tribe, who ruled here before they obtained Chitor. The ruins of a fort, still known by the name of Chitrang Mori’s castle, are pointed out as his residence ere he founded Chitor, or more properly Chitror.^[3] The tradition runs thus: Chitrang, a subordinate of the imperial house of Dhar, held Morwan and the adjacent tract, in appanage. One of his subjects, while ploughing, struck the share against some hard substance, and on examination found it was transmuted to gold. This was the paras-patthar,^[4] or ‘philosopher’s stone,’ and he carried it forthwith to his lord, with whose aid he erected the castle, and enlarged the town of Morwan, and ultimately founded Chitor. The Dhulkot, or site of Mori-ka-patan, is yet pointed out, to the westward of the present Morwan. It was miraculously destroyed through the impieties of its inhabitants by fire, which fate recalls a more celebrated catastrophe; but the act of impiety in the present case was merely seizing a Rishi, or ‘hermit,’ while performing penance in the forest, and compelling him to carry radishes to market! The tradition, however, is of some value: it proves, first, that there were radishes in those days; and secondly, that volcanic eruptions occurred in this region. Ujjain-Ahar, in the valley of Udaipur, and the lake of which is said in some places to be atak, ‘deeper than 1648plummet sounded,’ is another proof of some grand commotion of nature. Morwan boasts of three mandirs, or temples, one of which is dedicated to Seshnag, the thousand-headed hydra which supports the globe. Formerly, saffron was the meet offering to this king of reptiles; but he is now obliged to be content with ointment of sandal, produced from the evergreen, which is indigenous to Mewar.

Having heard of an inscription at the township of Aner, five miles distant, to the south-west, I requested my old Guru to take a ride and copy it. It was of modern date, merely confirming the lands of Aner to the Brahmans. The tablet is in the temple of Chaturbhuja (the four-armed divinity), built and endowed by Rana Sangram Singh in S. 1570 (A.D. 1514); to whose pious testament a codicil is added by Rana Jagat Singh, S. 1791, imprecating an anathema on the violator of it. There was also engraved upon one of the columns a voluntary gift, from the village-council of Aner to the divinity, of the first-fruits of each harvest; namely, two and a half sers from each khalla, or heap, of the spring-crops, and the same of the autumnal. The date, S. 1845 (A.D. 1789), shows that it was intended to propitiate the deity during the wars of Mewar [616].

Directly opposite, and very near the shrine of the “four-armed,” is a small Jain temple, erected, in S. 1774, to cover an image of the great pontiff, Parsvanath, found in digging near this spot. Here at every step are relics of past ages.

February 2.—An accident has compelled another halt at Morwan. The morning was clear and frosty, not a cloud in the sky, and we rose with the sun; my kinsman, Captain Waugh, to try his Arab at a nilgae, and myself to bag a few of the large rock-pigeons which are numerous about Morwan. My friend, after a hard run, had drawn blood from the elk, and was on the point of spearing him effectually just as he attained a thick part of the jungle, which not heeding, horse and rider came in contact with a tree, and were dashed with violence to the ground. There he lay insensible, and was brought home upon a charpai, or cot, by the villagers, much bruised, but fortunately with no broken bones. A leech was not to be had in any of the adjacent villages; and the patient complaining chiefly of the hip-bone, we could only apply emollients and recommend repose. I returned with no game except one or two black-partridges and batten-quail. The 1649rock-pigeon, or barr-titar, though unaccustomed to the fowler, were too wild for me to get a shot at them. The bird bears no analogy to the pigeon, but has all the rich game plumage of the titar, or partridge, in which name the ornithologist of the west will see the origin of tetrao. There are two species of this bird in India, one much smaller than the common partridge; that of which I speak is much larger, and with the peculiarity of being feathered to the toe. I have since discovered it to be the counterpart of a bird in the museum at Chambéry, called 'barteveldt des Alpes'; the ptarmigan of the highlands of Scotland. The male has exactly these redundant white feathers; while that I saw in Savoy was a richly plumaged female barr-titar.

Tale of a Tiger.

—Our annual supply of good things having reached us this morning, we were enjoying a bottle of some delicious Burgundy and “La Rose” after dinner, when we were roused by violent screams in the direction of the village. We were all up in an instant, and several men directed to the spot. Our speculations on the cause were soon set at rest by the appearance of two harkaras (messengers), and a lad with a vessel of milk on his head. For this daily supply they had gone several miles, and had nearly reached the camp, when having outwalked the boy, they were alarmed by his vociferations, “Oh, uncle, let go—let go—I am your child, uncle, let me go!” They thought the boy mad, and it being very dark, cursed his uncle, and desired him to make haste; but the same wild exclamations continuing, they ran back, and found a huge [617] tiger hanging to his tattered cold-weather doublet. The harkaras attacked the beast most manfully with their javelin-headed sticks, and adding their screams to his, soon brought the whole village, men, women, and children, armed with all sorts of missiles, to the rescue; and it was their discordant yells that made us exchange our good fare for the jungles of Morwan.

The ‘lord of the black rock,’ for such is the designation of the tiger, was one of the most ancient bourgeois of Morwan; his freehold is Kala-pahar, between this and Magarwar, and his reign for a long series of years has been unmolested, notwithstanding his numerous acts of aggression on his bovine subjects; indeed, only two nights before, he was disturbed gorging on a buffalo belonging to a poor oilman of Morwan. Whether this tiger was an incarnation of one of the Mori lords of Morwan, 1650tradition does not say; but neither gun, bow, nor spear had ever been raised against him. In return for this forbearance, it is said he never preyed upon man, or if he seized one, would, upon being entreated with the endearing epithet of mamu or uncle, let go his hold; and this accounted for the little ragged urchin using a phrase which almost prevented the harkaras returning to his rescue.

Disastrous Effects of Frost, February 3.—Another halt for our patient, who is doing well, and greatly relieved by the application of leeches obtained from Nimbahera.^[5] What a night! the clouds which had been alternately collecting and dispersing ever since we left Marwar, in December last, but had almost disappeared, as we commenced our present march, again suddenly gathered. The thermometer, which had averaged 41° at daybreak throughout the last month, this morning rose to 60°. On the 1st the wind changed to the south, with showers, where it continued throughout yesterday; but during the night it suddenly veered to the north, and the thermometer at daybreak was 28°, or four degrees below the freezing point. Reader, do you envy me my bon vin de Bourgogne et murailles de coton, with not even a wood fire, labouring under a severe pulmonary affection, with work enough for five men? Only three days ago the thermometer was 86° at noon, and to-day it is less at noon than yesterday at daybreak: even old England, with all her vicissitudes of weather, can scarcely show so rapid a change as this.

Ill-fated Mewar! all our hopes are blasted; this second visitation has frustrated all our labours. The frost of December, which sunk the mercury to 27° as we passed over the plains of Marwar, was felt throughout Rajwara, and blighted every pod of cotton. All was “burnt up”; but our poor exiles comforted [618] themselves, amidst the general sorrow, with the recollection that the young gram was safe. But even this last hope has now vanished: all is nipped in the bud. Had it occurred a month ago, the young plant would have been headed down with the sickle, and additional blossoms would have appeared. I was too unwell to ride out and see the ravages caused by this frost.

February 4.—Our patient is doing so well, that we look to moving to-morrow. Thermometer 28° at daybreak, and 31° at sunrise, with a keen cutting wind from the north. Ice closed 1651the orifice of the mashak, or leathern water-bag. Even the shallow stream near the tents had a pellicle of ice on its surface: our people huddling and shivering round their fires of bajra sticks, and the cattle of all classes looking very melancholy.

Temple of Māmā Devi.

—My Yati friend returned from Palod, where I had sent him to copy an inscription in a temple dedicated to Mama-devi, the mother of the gods; but he was disappointed, and brought back only the following traditional legend. The shrine, erected by a wealthy Jain disciple, was destined to receive the image of one of their pontiffs; but on its completion, Mama-devi appeared in propriâ personâ to the founder, and expressed so strongly her desire to inhabit it, that, heretic as he was, he could not deny the goddess’ suit. He stoutly refused, however, to violate the rules of his order: “By my hands the blood neither of goats or buffaloes can be shed,” said the Jain. But, grateful for the permission that a niche should be set apart for her sarup (form), she told him to go to the Sonigira chief of Chitor, who would attend to the rites of sacrifice. The good Jain, with easy faith, did as he was commanded, and erecting another temple, succeeded at length in enshrining Parsvanath. My old friend, however, discovered in a temple to Mataji, ‘the universal mother,’^[6] an inscription of great importance, as it fixes the period of one of the most conspicuous kings of the Solanki dynasty of Nahrvala, or correctly, Anhilwara Patan; and, in conjunction with another of the same prince (which I afterwards discovered in Chitor), also bearing the very same date,^[6] demonstrates that the Solanki had actually made a conquest of the capital of the Guhilots. The purport is simply that “Kumarpal Solanki and his son Sohanpal, in the month of Pus (the precise day illegible), S. 1207 (winter of A.D. 1151), came to worship the Universal Mother in her shrine at Palod.”^[7] The Sesodias try to get rid of this difficulty by saying, that during the banishment [619] of Kumarpal by Siddharaja, he not only enjoyed saran (refuge) at Chitor,^[8] but held the 1652post of prime minister to Rawal Samarsi, the friend and brother-in-law of the Chauhan emperor of Delhi; but the inscription (given in the first volume), which I found in the temple built by Lakha Rana, is written in the style of a conqueror, “who planted his standard even in Salpur,” the city of the Getae in the Panjab. At all events, it is one more datum in the history of Rajputana.

February 5, thermometer 30°.—Mounted Bajraj, ‘the royal steed,’ and took a ride over the heights of Morwan, a wild yet fairy scene, with the Patar or table-land bounding the perspective to the east. The downs are covered with the most luxuriant grasses, and the dhak or palas dried by the wintry blast, as if scorched by the lightning, faintly brought to mind the poet’s simile, applied to this tree, even in the midst of spring: “The black leafless kesula.” We entered a village in ruins, whose nim trees bid defiance to winter; the ‘thorny babul’ (mimosa Arabica) grows luxuriantly out of the inner sides of the walls, and no hand invades the airy nest of the imitative papiha, fantastically pendent from the slenderest branches.^[9] No trace of the presence of man; but evidence that he has been here. The ground was covered with hoar-frost, and the little stream coated with ice. Many a heavy heart has it caused, and plunged joyous industry into utter despondence. Take one example: yonder Jat, sitting by the side of his field, which he eyes in despair; three months since, he returned, after many years of exile, to the bapota, the land of his sires, without funds, without food, or even the implements for obtaining it. He had been labouring as a serf in other lands, but he heard of peace in his own, and came back to the paternal acres, which had been a stranger to the ploughshare since he was driven from his cot in S. 1844, immediately following the battle of Harkiakhal, when the “Southron” completed the bondage of Mewar. What could he do? his well was dried up, and if not, he had no cattle to irrigate a field of wheat or barley. But Mewar is a kind mother, and she yields her chana crop without water. To the Bohra (the metayer) he promised one-fifth of the produce for the necessary seed and the use of a pair of oxen and a plough; one-fifth more was the share of the state from land so long sterile; there were three-fifths 1653left for himself of his long-neglected but at once luxuriant fields. He watched the crop with paternal solicitude, from the first appearance of verdure to the approach of Basant, the joyous spring. Each night, as he returned to his yet roofless abode, he related the wonders of his field and its rapid vegetation; and as he calculated the produce, he anticipated its application; “so much shall go [620] for a plough, so much for the Bohra, so much in part payment of a pair of bullocks, and the rest will keep me in bread till the makkai crop is ready.” Thus the days passed, until this killing frost nipped his hopes in the bud, and now see him wringing his hands in the bitterest anguish! This is no ideal picture: it is one to be found in every village of Mewar. In this favoured soil there is as much of chana in the rabi harvest as of wheat and barley conjoined, and in the first crop sown in banjar, or soil long sterile, wheat and chana are sown together. It is a sad blow to the exiles; though happily in the crown-lands their distress will be mitigated, as these are rented on leases of five years, and the renters for their own sakes must be lenient, and moreover they are well watched.

February 6.—Still halting; our patient very well, though he feels his bruises; but we shall put him on an elephant to-morrow. The jealousy of the Mahratta had hitherto prevented the inhabitants from fulfilling their desire to come and visit me; but to-day, the elders forming the Panchayat, heading the procession, they came en masse. The authorities need not have feared exposing the nakedness of the land, which is too visible; but they apprehended the contrast of their condition with our poor subjects, who were at least unmolested in their poverty. It was a happiness to learn that this contrast was felt, and as the Patel presented to me an engaging little child, his daughter, he said, “Let not our misfortunes be our faults; we all belong to Mewar, though we are not so happy as to enjoy your protection and care.” I assured him, that although under the Turk, I should look upon them as my children, and the subjects of the Rana; and I have had it in my power to redeem this pledge—for, strange to say, even Amir Khan, seeing that the prosperity of the subject is that of the prince, has commanded his governor of Nimbahera to consult me in everything, and has even gone so far as to beg I would consider the place as under my authority. Already, following our example, he has reduced the transit duties nearly one-half, 1654and begins to think the Farangi notions of economy better than his own, his loss having proved a gain.

Nikumbh, February 7: eleven miles.—Midway, passed through Chakurla, a village belonging to Amir Khan. Nikumbh is a taluk of Jawad, which with Mandipia was held by the Pindari freebooter, Fazil, while Jaswant Rao Bhao held them in jaedad. They are now leased to a Pandit by the Hakim of Jawad, which latter is assigned by Sindhia to his father-in-law, the Senapati. Nikumbh is a good village, but more than two-thirds depopulated, and the renter is prevented from being lenient, as he experiences [621] no mercy himself. Notwithstanding they have all been suffering as we have from this frost, an assessment is now levying. One poor fellow said to me, “I returned only three months ago from exile, and I had raised the mud-walls of my hut two feet, when my wife died, leaving me to take care of a boy eight years of age, and to get bread for both. If the walls were two feet higher I would cover it in; but though I have not a foot of land, my roofless half-finished cot is assessed a rupee and a half”: a gift of two rupees made him happier than his Hakim!

The country is beautiful, the soil rich, and water, as already mentioned, about twenty-five feet from the surface. We are now in the region of the flower sacred to “gloomy Dis,” the accursed poppy. The crop looks miserable from the frost, but those patches within the influence of the wells are partly saved by the fields being inundated, which expedient is always successful upon such visitations, if applied with judgment. The mountains touching great Sadri lay twelve miles south coming from Partabgarh, and ranging to Salumbar and Udaipur, where they commingle with the giant Aravalli.

The Chāran Tribe. Marla, February 8: seven miles.—Crossed two ridges running northward to Badesar. The intervening valleys, as usual, fertile, with numerous villages, but alienated to the southern Goths or the partisan Pathan. Passed many large townships, formerly in the fisc of Mewar, as Bari, Banota, Bambori, etc. In the distance, saw “the umbrella of the earth,” the far-famed Chitor. Marla is an excellent township, inhabited by a community of Charans, of the tribe Kachhela, who are Banjaras (carriers) by profession, though poets by birth. The alliance is a curious one, and would appear incongruous, were not gain the object generally in both cases. It was the sanctity of their office 1655which converted our Bardais into Banjaras, for their persons being sacred, the immunity extended likewise to their goods, and saved them from all imposts; so that in process of time they became the free-traders of Rajputana. I was highly gratified with the reception I received from the community, which collectively advanced to me at some distance from the town. The procession was headed by the village-band, and all the fair Charanis, who, as they approached, gracefully waved their scarfs over me, until I was fairly made captive by the muses of Marla! It was a novel and interesting scene: the manly persons of the Charans, clad in the flowing white robe, with the high loose folded turban inclined on one side, from which the mala, or chaplet, was gracefully suspended; the Naiks, or leaders, with their massive necklaces of gold, with the image of the pitrideva (manes) depending therefrom, gave the whole an air of opulence and dignity. The females were uniformly [622] attired in a skirt of dark brown camlet, having a bodice of light-coloured stuff, with gold ornaments worked into their fine black hair; and all had the favourite churis, or rings of hathi-dant (elephant’s tooth), covering the arm, from the wrist to the elbow, and even above it. Never was there a nobler subject for the painter in any age or country; it was one which Salvator Rosa would have seized, full of picturesque contrasts: the rich dark tints of the female attire harmonizing with the white garments of their husbands; but it was the mien, the expression, the gestures, denoting that though they paid homage they expected a full measure in return. And they had it; for if ever there was a group which bespoke respect for the natural dignity of man and his consort, it was the Charan community of Marla.

It was not until the afternoon, when the Naiks again came to see me at my camp, that I learned the full value of my escape from the silken bonds of the fair Charanis. This community had enjoyed for five hundred years the privilege of making prisoner any Rana of Mewar who may pass through Marla, and keeping him in bondage until he gives them a got, or entertainment; and their chains are neither galling, nor the period of captivity, being thus in the hands of the captivated, very long. The patriarch told me that I was in jeopardy, as the Rana’s representative; but not knowing how I might have relished the joke, had it been carried to its conclusion, they let me escape, though they lost a 1656feast by it. But I told them I was too much delighted with old customs not to keep up this; and immediately sent money to the ladies with my respects, and a request that they would hold their got (feast). The patriarch and his subordinate Naiks and their sons remained with me to discourse on the olden time.

The founders of this little colony accompanied Rana Hamir from Gujarat in the early part of his reign, and although five centuries have elapsed, they have not parted with one iota of their nationality or their privileges since that period: neither in person, manners, or dress, have they anything analogous to those amidst whom they dwell. Indeed, their air is altogether foreign to India, and although they have attained a place, and that a high one, amongst the tribes of Hind, their affinity to the ancient Persian is striking; the loose robe, high turban, and flowing beard being more akin to the figures on the temples of the Guebres than to anything appertaining to the Charbaran, or four classes of the Hindus. But I must give the tale accounting for their settlement in Mewar. Rana Hamir, so celebrated in the history of Mewar, had a leprous spot on his hand, to remove which he made a pilgrimage to the shrine of Hinglaj, upon the [623] coast of Mekran, the division Oreitai of Arrian’s geography.^[10] He had reached the frontiers of Cutch Bhuj, when alighting near a tanda, or encampment of Charans, a young damsel abandoned the meal she was preparing, and stepped forward to hold the stranger’s steed. Thanking her for her courtesy, he jocosely observed that he wished his people had as good a breakfast as she was preparing, when she immediately made an offering of the contents of the vessel; on which Hamir observed, it would go but a short way to satisfy so many hungry mouths. “Not if it pleased Hinglajji,” she promptly replied; and placing the food before the Rana and his train, it sufficed for all their wants. A little well, which she excavated in the sand, was soon filled with a copious supply of water, which served to quench their thirst. It was an evident interposition of the goddess of Hinglaj in favour of this her royal votary. He returned from her shrine cured, and the young Charani’s family were induced to accompany him to Mewar, where he bestowed upon them the lands of Marla, 1657with especial immunities in their mercantile capacity: and as a perpetual remembrance of the miraculous feast, permission was granted to the Charani damsels to make captive of their sovereign as related above.

The colony, which now consists of some thousands of both sexes, presented an enigma to our young Englishmen, who think “all black fellows alike,” and equally beneath notice: it was remarked how comfortable they looked in house and person, though there was not a vestige of cultivation around their habitations. The military policy of the troubled period accounts for the first; and a visit to the altars of Marla will furnish the cause of the neglect of the agrarian laws of Mewar. As the community increased in numbers, the subdivision of the lands continued, according to the customs of Cutch, until a dispute regarding limits produced a civil war. A ferocious combat ensued, when the wives of the combatants who were slain ascended the funeral pile; and to prevent a similar catastrophe, imprecated a curse on whomever from that day should cultivate a field in Marla; since which the land has lain in absolute sterility! Such is the implicit reverence for the injunction of a Sati, at this moment of awful inspiration, when about to take leave of the world. In Mewar, the most solemn of all oaths is that of the Sati. Maha sati an-ki-an, ‘by the great Satis,’ is an adjuration frequently used in the royal patents.

The tanda or caravan, consisting of four thousand bullocks, has been kept up amidst all the evils which have beset this land, through Mogul and Mahratta tyranny. The utility of these caravans, as general carriers to conflicting armies, and as regular tax-paying subjects, has proved their safeguard, and they were too strong [624] to be pillaged by any petty marauder, as any one who has seen a Banjara encampment will be convinced. They encamp in a square; their grain-bags piled over each other breast-high, with interstices left for their matchlocks, make no contemptible fortification. Even the ruthless Turk, Jamshid Khan, set up a protecting tablet in favour of the Charans of Marla, recording their exemption from dand contributions, and that there should be no increase in duties, with threats to all who should injure the community. As usual, the sun and moon are appealed to as witnesses of good faith, and sculptured on the stone. Even the forester Bhil and mountain Mer have set up their signs of 1658immunity and protection to the chosen of Hinglaj; and the figures of a cow and its kheri (calf), carved in rude relief, speak the agreement that they should not be slain or stolen within the limits of Marla.

Nīmbahera: seven miles.—The soil, as usual, excellent; but from Ranikhera to Nimbahera the blue schist at intervals penetrates the surface, and there is but little superincumbent soil even to the bed of the stream, which makes an entire disclosure of the rock, over which flows a clear rivulet abounding with small fish, amongst which the speckled trout were visible. Ranikhera, through which we passed, is the largest township of this district, and was built by the Rani of Arsi Rana, mother of the present ruler of Mewar, at whose expense the temple, the baori or ‘reservoir,’ and the paved street, were constructed. Although in the alienated territory, I had a visit from its elders to complain of an indignity to the community by the Bhangi, or scavenger, of Lesrawan, who had killed a hog and thrown it into the reservoir, whose polluted waters being thus rendered unfit for use, the inhabitants were compelled to get a purer element from the adjacent villages. This baori is about half-a-mile from the town, and being upon the highway, the council and train very wisely stopped at the spot where the aggression had happened: and although the cavalcade of the Hakim of Nimbahera was in sight, advancing to welcome me, it was impossible to proceed until I heard the whole grievance, when adjured by “subjects of Mewar, and children of the Rana, though unhappily under the Turk,” to see their wrongs redressed. I might not have recorded this incident, but for its consequence; as the hog thrown into the reservoir of Baijiraj, ‘the royal mother,’ of Mewar, affords an instance of the extent to which mortgage is carried.

The Bhangis, or scavengers, of Ranikhera, the very refuse of mankind, had mortgaged their rights in the dead carcases of their town to a professional brother of Lesrawan; but, on the return of these halcyon days, they swerved from their bond [625]. The chieftain of Lesrawan espoused his vassal’s cause, and probably pointed out the mode of revenge. One morning, therefore, not having the fear of Jamshid of Nimbahera before his eyes, the said mortgagee slew his pig; and, albeit but the wreck of a human being, contrived to cast his victim into the pure fountain of ‘Queenstown,’ and immediately fled for saran to Bhindar. But 1659what could be done to a wretch, who for former misdeeds had already suffered the dismemberment of an arm, a leg, and his nose? Here is the sentence! “To be paraded, mounted on an ass, his face blackened, with a chaplet of shoes round his neck, and drummed out of the limits of Ranikhera!” The fountain is now undergoing purification; and when the polluted waters are baled out, it is to be lustrated with the holy stream of the Ganges, and the ceremony will conclude with a got, or feast, to one hundred Brahmans. Previous to this, I took a peep at the humble altars of Ranikhera. All is modern; but there is one tablet which pleasingly demonstrates that both public feeling and public gratitude exist in these regions. This tablet, set up by the council of the town, recorded that Kistna, the Silpi or stone-cutter, did at his own expense and labour repair all the altars then going to decay; for which pious act they guaranteed to him and his successors for ever six thalis or platters of various viands, saffron, oil, butter, and several pieces of money, at every village fête. Doubtless such traits are not confined to Ranikhera. I accepted with kindness the offerings of the elders and assembled groups—a pot of curds and sundry blessings—and continued my journey to meet the impatient cavaliers of Nimbahera, who, to fill up the interlude, were karowling,^[11] with matchlock and spear, their well-caparisoned chargers. The Khan was in the centre of the group, and we had a friendly, unceremonious dastabazi, or shaking of hands, without dismounting. He is a gentlemanly Pathan, of middle age, courteous and affable, and a very different personage from the two-handed Jamshid his predecessor, who lately died from a cancer in his back: a judgment, if we are to credit our Mewar friends, for his horrible cruelties and oppressions over all these regions, as lieutenant of Amir Khan during many years. The Khan welcomed me to Nimbahera with true Oriental politesse, saying, “that the place was mine”; and that he had received the “positive instructions of the Nawab Sahib (Amir Khan, whose son-in-law he is) to look upon me as himself.” I replied, that, in accepting such a trust, I could not say more than that I would, whenever occasion presented itself, act for him as if Nimbahera were really my own. The Khan had reason to find that his confidence was not misplaced; and while enabled to benefit him, I had also the opportunity of protecting the interests [626] of the 1660feudatories, who by this alienation (as is fully related in the Annals of Mewar) were placed beyond the pale of the Rana’s power. The Khan, after accompanying me to my tents, took leave; but paid me a long visit in the evening, when we discussed all that concerned the welfare of his charge and the peace of the borders. As matters stand, it is a duty to conciliate and to promote prosperity; but it is melancholy to see this fertile appanage of Mewar in the hand of so consummate a villain as Amir Khan; a traitor to his master Holkar, for which he obtained the “sovereignty in perpetuity” of many rich tracts both in Mewar and Amber, without rendering the smallest service in return. Let this be borne in mind when another day of reckoning comes. Nimbahera is a considerable town, with an excellent stone circumvallation; and, being on the high road between Malwa and Hindustan, it enjoys a good share of traffic. Upwards of one hundred villages are attached to it, and it was estimated at three lakhs of rupees, of annual rent.

CHAPTER 4

The Patār Plateau. Kanera, February 13: nine miles.—A new feature in the face of Mewar was this day disclosed to us. At the termination of our short march, we ascended the Patar, or plateau of Central India, the grand natural rampart defending Mewar on the east. As we approached it, the level line of its crest, so distinct from the pinnacled Aravalli, at once proclaimed it to be a tableland, or rock of the secondary formation. Although its elevation is not above four hundred feet from its western base, the transition is remarkable, and it presents from the summit one of the most diversified scenes, whether in a moral, political, or picturesque point of view, that I [627] ever beheld. From this spot the mind’s eye embraces at once all the grand theatres of the history of Mewar. Upon our right lies Chitor, the palladium of Hinduism; on the west, the gigantic Aravalli, enclosing the new capital, and the shelter of her heroes; here, at our feet, or within view, all the alienated lands now under the ‘barbarian Turk’ or Mahratta, as Jawad, Jiran, Nimach, Nimbahera, Kheri, Ratangarh. What associations, what aspirations, does this scene conjure up to one who feels as a Rajput for this fair land! The rich 1661flat we have passed over—a space of nearly seventy English miles from one table-range to the other—appears as a deep basin, fertilized by numerous streams, fed by huge reservoirs in the mountains, and studded with towns, which once were populous, but are for the most part now in ruins, though the germ of incipient prosperity is just appearing. From this height I condensed all my speculative ideas on a very favourite subject—the formation of a canal to unite the ancient and modern capitals of Mewar, by which her soil might be made to return a tenfold harvest, and famine be shut out for ever from her gates. My eye embraced the whole line of the Berach, from its outlet at the Udaisagar, to its passage within a mile of Chitor, and the benefit likely to accrue from such a work appeared incalculable.^[1] What new ideas would be opened to the Rajput, on seeing the trains of oxen, which now creep slowly along with merchandise for the capital, exchanged for boats gliding along the canal; and his fields, for many miles on each side, irrigated by lateral cuts, instead of the cranking Egyptian wheel, as it is called, but which is indigenous to India!^[2] If the reader will turn to the map, he will perceive the great facilities for such an undertaking. He will there see two grand reservoirs within six miles of each other, the Pichola, or internal lake, having an elevation of eighty feet above the external one, the Udaisagar, whose outlet forms the Berach River; but for which the valley of the capital would be one wide lake and which, for want of proper regulation, once actually submerged a third of it. The Pichola may be called the parent of the other, although it is partly fed by the minor lake at the villa of Suheli-ki-bari. Both are from twelve to fourteen miles in circumference, in some places thirty-five feet deep, and being fed by the perennial streams from the Aravalli, they contain a constant supply of water. From the external lake to Chitor, the fall is so slight that few locks would be required; and the soil being a yielding one throughout, the expense of the undertaking would be moderate. There is plenty of material in the neighbouring hills 1662and forests, and by furnishing occupation for the wild population, the work would tend not a little to reclaim them. But [628] where are the means? With this difficulty, and the severe blow to our incipient prosperity in this untimely frost, our schemes dissipate like the mist of the morning. But I cannot relinquish the conviction that the undertaking, if executed, would not only enable the Rana to pay his tribute, but to be more merciful to his subjects, for whose welfare it is our chief duty to labour.^[3]

The summit of the Patar has a fertile soil, well-watered and well-wooded, and producing the mango, mahua, and nim; and were the appearance of the crops a criterion, we should say it was equal in fertility to the best part of Mewar. In ancient inscriptions, the term Uparmal is applied, as well as Patar, to this marked feature in the geological structure of Central India: the first being rendered exactly by the German oberland; the other signifying ‘flat,’ or table-land.

In the indented recesses of this elevated land, which covers an immense portion of Central India, there are numerous spots of romantic beauty, which enthusiasm has not failed to identify with religious associations. Wherever there is a deep glen, a natural fountain, or a cascade, the traveller will infallibly discover some traces of the ‘Great God’ (Mahadeva) of the Hindus, the creator and destroyer of life.

Shrine of Sukhdeo. Human Scapegoats.

—By the stupidity of my guide, and the absence of the indefatigable Balgovind, my Brahman antiquarian pioneer, I lost the opportunity of seeing the shrine of Sukhdeo, situated in a dark cleft of the rock, not two miles from the pass where I ascended. In excuse, he said he thought, as my camp was near, that it would be easy to descend to the shrine of the “ease-giving” god, Sukhdeo (from sukh, ‘ease’);^[4] but revocare gradum was an evil which, added to the necessity of extracting all the information I could from some of the opium-growers in attendance, deterred me. The abode of Sukhdeo is in a deep recess, well-wooded, with a cascade bursting from the rock near its summit, under a ledge of which the symbolic 1663representative is enshrined. Around it are several guphas or caves of the anchorite devotees; but the most conspicuous object is a projecting ledge, named Daitya-ka-har, or ‘Giant’s-bone,’ on which those who are in search of “ease” jump from above. This is called the Vira-jhamp, or ‘warrior’s-leap,’ and is made in fulfilment of vows either for temporal or future good.^[5] Although most of the leapers perish, some instances of escape are recorded. The love of offspring is said to be the principal motive to this pious act of [629] saltation; and I was very gravely told of one poor woman, whose philoprogenitive bump was so great, that she vowed to take the leap herself with her issue; and such, says the legend, was her faith, that both escaped. A Teli, or oilman, was the last jumper of Sukhdeo, and he was no less fortunate; to him the ‘giant’s-bone’ was a bed of roses. So much for the faith of the oilman of Jawad! There are many such Leucotheas in this region of romance:^[6] that at Omkar, on the Nerbudda, and the sacred mount Girnar, are the most celebrated.

Until the last sixty years, the whole of the plateau, as far as the Chambal, belonged to Mewar; but all, with the exception of Kanera, are now in the hands of Sindhia. Kanera is the chief township of a small district of twenty-two villages, which, by the change of events, has fortunately reverted to the Rana, although it was not extricated from the grasp of the Mahrattas without some difficulty; it was taken first, and the right of repossession argued afterwards. Would we had tried the same process with all the rest of the plateau; but unhappily they were rented to old Lalaji Balal, a lover of order, and an ally of old Zalim Singh! But let me repeat, for the tenth time, that all these lands are only held by Sindhia on mortgage for war-contributions, paid over and over again; and when an opportunity occurs, let this 1664be a record, and the Patar west of the Chambal be restored to Mewar.

I was delighted to see that the crops of Kanera had only partially suffered from the ravages of the frost of the 3rd, 4th, to 25th, which extended over Malwa, and that although the gram was destroyed, the wheat, barley, sugar-cane, and poppy, were abundant and little injured; though we could have wished that the last-named pernicious plant, which is annually increasing all over these regions, had been sacrificed in lieu of the noble crops of vetches (gram).

That the culture of the poppy, to the detriment of more useful husbandry, is increasing to an extent which demands the strong hand of legislative restraint, must strike the most superficial observer in these regions. When the sumptuary laws of this patriarchal government were in force, a restraint was at the same time imposed on an improvident system of farming which, of course, affected the prince, whose chief revenues were derived from the soil; and one of the agrarian laws of Mewar was, that there should be to each charas, or skin of land, only one bigha of opium, and the same quantity of cane, with the usual complement of corn. But the feverish excitement produced by our monopoly of the drug has extended its culture in every direction, and even in tracts where hitherto it has never entered into their agricultural economy. Whatever [630], therefore, be the wisdom or policy of our interference in this matter, of the result there can be no doubt, namely, that it converted the agricultural routinières into speculators and gamblers.

The History of Opium.

—A slight sketch of the introduction and mode of culture of this drug, which has tended more to the physical and moral degradation of the inhabitants than the combined influence of pestilence and war, may not be without interest.^[7]

We are indebted to the commentaries of the imperial autobiographers, Babur, Akbar, and Jahangir, for the most valuable information on the introduction of exotics into the horticultural economy of India; and we are proud to pay our tribute of applause to the illustrious house of Timur, whose princes, though despots by birth and education, and albeit the bane of Rajputana, we must allow, present a more remarkable succession of great 1665characters, historians, statesmen, and warriors, than any contemporaneous dynasty, in any region of the world.^[8]

Akbar followed up the plans of Babur, and introduced the gardeners of Persia and Tartary, who succeeded with many of their fruits, as peaches, almonds (both indigenous to Rajputana), pistachios, etc. To Jahangir’s Commentaries we owe the knowledge that tobacco was introduced into India in his reign; but 1666of the period when the poppy became an object of culture, for the manufacture of opium, we have not the least information. Whatever may be the antiquity of this drug, for medicinal uses, it may be asserted that its abuse is comparatively recent, or not more than three [631] centuries back.^[9] In none of the ancient heroic poems of Hindustan is it ever alluded to. The guest is often mentioned in them as welcomed by the munawwar piyala, or ‘cup of greeting,’^[10] but nowhere by the amal-pani, or ‘infused opiate,’ which has usurped the place of the phul-ra-arak, or ‘essence of flowers.’ Before, however, the art of extracting the properties of the poppy, as at present, was practised, they used the opiate in its crudest form, by simply bruising the capsules, which they steeped a certain time in water, afterwards drinking the infusion, to which they give the name of tijara, and not unfrequently post, ‘the poppy.’ This practice still prevails in the remote parts of Rajputana, where either ignorance of the more refined process, prejudice, or indolence, operates to maintain old habits.

The culture of opium was at first confined to the duab, or tract between the Chambal and Sipra, from their sources to their junction; but although tradition has preserved the fact of this being the original poppy-nursery of Central India, it has long ceased to be the only place of the poppy’s growth, it having spread not only throughout Malwa, but into various parts of Rajputana, especially Mewar and Haraoti.^[11] But though all classes, Kunbis and Jats, Banias and Brahmans, try the culture, all yield the palm of superior skill to the Kunbi, the original cultivator, who will extract one-fifth more from the plant than any of his competitors.

It is a singular fact, that the cultivation of opium increased in the inverse ratio of general prosperity; and that as war, pestilence, and famine, augmented their virulence, and depopulated Rajputana, so did the culture of this baneful weed appear to thrive. The predatory system, which succeeded Mogul 1667despotism, soon devastated this fair region, and gradually restricted agricultural pursuits to the richer harvests of barley, wheat, and gram; till at length even these were confined to a bare sustenance for the families of the cultivator, who then found a substitute in the poppy. From the small extent of its culture, he was able to watch it, or to pay for its protection from pillage; this he could not do for his corn, which a troop of horse might save him the trouble of cutting. A kind of moral barometer might, indeed, be constructed, to show that the maximum of oppression in Mewar was the maximum of the culture of the poppy in Malwa. Emigration commenced in S. 1840 (A.D. 1784); it was at its height in S. 1856 (A.D. 1800), and went on gradually depopulating that country until S. 1874 (A.D. 1818). Its consumption, of course, kept pace with its production, it having found a vent in foreign markets.

The districts to which the emigrants fled were those of Mandasor, Khachrod, Unel [632], and others, situated on the feeders of the Chambal, in its course through Lower Malwa.^[12] There they enjoyed comparative protection and kind treatment, under Apa Sahib and his father, who were long the farmers-general of these fertile lands. It could not be expected, however, that the new settlers should be allowed to participate in the lands irrigated by wells already excavated; but Apa advanced funds, and appointed them lands, all fertile though neglected, in which they excavated wells for themselves. They abandoned altogether wheat and barley, growing only makkai or ‘Indian corn,’ for food, which requires no irrigation, and to which the poppy succeeds in rotation; to these, and the sugar-cane, all their industry was directed.

But to proceed with the process of cultivation. When the crops of Indian corn (makkai) or of hemp (san) are gathered in, the stalks are rooted up and burned; the field is then flooded, and, when sufficiently saturated, ploughed up. It is then copiously manured with cow-dung, which is deemed the best for the purpose; but even this has undergone a preparatory operation, or chemical decomposition, being kept in a hollow ground during the rainy season, and often agitated with long poles, to allow 1668the heat to evaporate. In this state it is spread over the fields and ploughed in. Those who do not keep kine, and cannot afford to purchase manure, procure flocks of goats and sheep, and pay so much a night for having them penned in the fields. The land being ploughed and harrowed at least six or seven times, until the soil is almost pulverized, it is divided into beds, and slight embankments are formed to facilitate irrigation. The seed is then thrown in, the fields are again inundated; and the seventh day following this is repeated to saturation. On the seventh or ninth, but occasionally not until the eleventh day, the plant springs up; and on the twenty-fifth, when it has put forth a few leaves, and begins to look withered, they water it once more. As soon as this moisture dries, women and children are turned into the fields to thin the plants, leaving them about eight inches asunder, and loosening the earth around them with iron spuds. The plant is at this stage about three inches high. A month later it is watered moderately, and when dry, the earth is again turned up and loosened. The fifth water is given in about ten days more; two days after which a flower appears here and there. This is the signal for another watering, called ‘the flower-watering’; after which, in twenty-four or thirty-six hours, all the flowers burst their cells. When about half the petals have fallen, they irrigate the plants sufficiently to moisten the earth, and soon the rest of the flowers drop off, leaving the bare capsule, which rapidly increases in bulk. In a short period, when scarcely a flower remains, a whitish [633] powder collects outside the capsule, which is the signal for immediate application of the lancet.

The field is now divided into three parts, in one of which operations commence. The cutting-instrument consists of three prongs, with delicate points, around which cotton thread is bound to prevent its making too deep an incision, and thus causing the liquid to flow into the interior of the capsule. The wound is made from the base upwards, and the milky juice which exudes coagulates outside. Each plant is thrice pierced, on three successive days, the operation commencing as soon as the sun begins to warm. In cold mornings, when it congeals rapidly, the coagulation is taken off with a scraper. The fourth morning each plant is once more pierced, to ascertain that no juice remains. On each morning this extract is immersed in a vessel of linseed 1669oil, to prevent it from drying up. The juice being all collected, there remains only the seed. The capsules are therefore broken off and carried to the barn, where they are spread out upon the ground; a little water is sprinkled over them, and being covered with a cloth, they remain till the morning, when the cattle tread out the seed, which is sent to the oilmen, and the refuse is burnt, lest the cattle should eat them, as even in this stage they are poisonous. Poppy oil is more used for the chiragh (lamp) than any other in Mewar. They calculate a maund (of forty sers, or about seventy-five pounds weight) of seed for every two sers of milk. The price of seed is now twenty rupees per mauni of one hundred and twelve (kachha) maunds.

One bigha of Malwa land, of the measure Shahjahani (when the jarib, or rod, is one hundred cubits long), will yield from five to fifteen sers of opium-juice, each ser being forty-five Salimshahi ^[13] rupees in weight: the medium is reckoned a good produce. The cultivator or farmer sells it, in the state described, to the speculator, at the price current of the day. The purchaser puts it into cotton bags of three folds, and carries it home. Having obtained the leaves of the poppy, he spreads them in a heap of two or three inches in depth, and thereon deposits the opium, in balls of fifteen rupees’ weight each, which are allowed to remain five months for the purpose of evaporation. If the milk has been thin, or treated with oil, seven parts in ten will remain; but if good and pure, eight. The beoparis (speculators) then sell it, either for home-consumption in Rajputana, or for exportation.

From the year S. 1840 (A.D. 1784) to S. 1857 (A.D. 1801), the market-price of the crude opium from the cultivator ran from sixteen to twenty-one Salimshahi rupees per dari, a measure of five pakka sers, each ser being the weight of ninety Salimshahi [634] rupees. I give the price of the drug by the grower in the first stage as a better criterion than that of the manufacturer in its prepared state. In the year S. 1857 it rose to twenty-five rupees; in S. 1860 to twenty-seven, gradually increasing till S. 1865 (A.D. 1809), when it attained its maximum of forty-two, or an advance of one hundred and seventy per cent above the price 1670of the year A.D. 1784. But some natural causes are assigned for this extraordinary advance; after which it gradually fell, until S. 1870 (A.D. 1814), when it was so low as twenty-nine. In S. 1873 it had again risen to thirty-three, and in S. 1874-75, when its transit to the ports of Sind and Gujarat was unmolested (whence it was exported to China and the Archipelago), it had reached thirty-eight and thirty-nine, where it now (S. 1876, or A.D. 1820) stands.

In Kanthal ^[14] (which includes Partabgarh Deola), or the tracts upon the Mahi River, opium is cultivated to a great extent, and adulterated in an extraordinary manner. This being sold in China as Malwa opium, has greatly lessened the value of the drug in that market. The adulteration is managed as follows: a preparation of refined gur (molasses) and gum, in equal proportion, is added to half its quantity of opiate coagulum; the mass is then put into cauldrons, and after being well amalgamated by boiling, it is taken out, and when sufficiently dry is well beaten, and put into cotton bags, which are sewn up in green hides, and exported to Maskat-Mandavi. The Gosains of these parts are the chief contractors for this impure opium, which is reckoned peculiarly unwholesome, and is never consumed in Rajputana. Rumour says that it is transported to the Spice Islands, where it is used as a manure in the cultivation of the nutmeg. The transit-duties on opium, in the Native States, are levied on each bullock-load, so that the adulterated pays as much as the pure. The Gosains smuggle great quantities.

Such is the history, and I believe a pretty correct one, of the growth and extension of this execrable and demoralizing plant, for the last forty years. If the now paramount power, instead of making a monopoly of it, and consequently extending its cultivation, would endeavour to restrict it by judicious legislative enactments, or at least reduce its culture to what it was forty years ago, generations yet unborn would have just reason to praise us for this work of mercy. It is no less our interest than our duty to do so, and to call forth genuine industry, for the improvement of cotton, indigo, sugar-cane, and other products, which would enrich instead of demoralizing, and therefore impoverishing, 1671the country. We have saved Rajputana from political ruin; but the boon of mere existence will be valueless if we fail to restore the [635] moral energies of her population; for of this fine region and noble race we might say, as Byron does of Greece—

or the mind is decayed, and the body often palsied and worn out, in the very meridian of life. As far as my personal influence went, I practised what I preach; and, as I have already stated, exacted a promise, from the Rana on the throne to the lowest Thakur, that they would never initiate their children in this debasing practice. But as mere declamation can do very little good, I will here insert a portion of the Agrarian customary code of Mewar and Malwa, which may be brought into operation directly or indirectly. The distribution of crops was as follows.

Distribution of Crops.

—To each charas, charsa, or skin of land, there is attached twenty-five bighas of irrigated land for wheat and barley, with from thirty to fifty bighas more, called mar, or mal, dependent on the heavens for water, and generally sown with gram. Of the twenty-five bighas of land irrigated from the well, the legislature sanctioned one bigha of opium, and ten to fifteen biswas (twenty biswas are a bigha) of sugar-cane. But in these days of anarchy and confusion, when every one follows his own view of things, they cultivate two of opium and three of cane, and perhaps two of barley, instead of twenty-five, to feed the family! What an unnatural state of agricultural economy is this, when the cultivator sometimes actually purchases food for his family, in order that he may bestow his time and labour on this enervating exotic! But should the foreign markets be closed, and famine, as is not unusual, ensue, what must be the consequence, where the finest corn-country in India is converted to a poppy-garden! In Haraoti they manage these things better; and although its old politic ruler makes use of the districts in Malwa, which he rents from the Mahrattas, for the culture of opium, being himself a trader in it, yet I do not believe he permits its demoralizing influence to enter within his proper domain. It is pleasing to see some traces of the legislative wisdom of past days, and old Zalim knows that it is by the more generous productions of the plough that his country must prosper. But our 1672monopoly acted as an encouragement of this vice; for no sooner was it promulgated that the Compani Sahib was contractor-general for opium, than prince and peasant, nay, the very scavengers, dabbled in the speculation. All Malwa was thrown into a ferment; like the Dutch tulip-bubble, the most fraudulent purchases and transfers were effected by men who had not a ser of opium in their possession. The extent to which this must have gone may be imagined when [636], according to the return, the sales, in the first year of our monopoly, exceeded one million sterling, in which I rather think we gained a loss of some £40,000! It is to be hoped the subject is now better understood, and that the legislature at home will perceive that a perseverance in this pernicious traffic is consistent neither with our honour, our interest, nor with humanity.

If the facts I have collected are confirmed on inquiry, the late measures of Government,^[15] in whatever motives originating, will only augment the mischief. Even admitting their expediency in protecting our Patna monopoly, and their justice as affecting the native governments (the contractors and cultivators of the drug), still other measures might have been devised, equally efficacious in themselves, and less pregnant with evil consequences.

8. In all the branches of knowledge which have reference to the comforts, the elegancies, and the luxuries of life, they necessarily bore away the palm from the Rajput, who was cooped up within the barriers of superstition. The court of Samarkand, with which the kings of Farghana were allied, must have been one of the most brilliant in the world for talents as well as splendour; and to all the hereditary instruction there imbibed, Babur, the conqueror of India, added that more useful and varied knowledge only to be acquired by travel, and constant intercourse with the world. When, therefore, his genius led him from ‘the frosty Caucasus’ into the plains of Hindustan, the habit of observation and noting in a book, as set before him by Hazrat Timur, all that appeared novel, never escaped him; and in so marked a transition from the highlands of Central India to the region of the sun, his pen had abundant occupation. No production, whether in the animal or vegetable kingdom, which appeared different from his own, escaped notice in his book, which must be looked upon as one of the most remarkable contributions to literature ever made by royalty; for in no age or country will a work be found at once so comprehensive and so simple as the Commentaries of Babur; and this in a region where everything is exaggerated. Whether he depicts a personal encounter on which his life and prospects hinged, or a battle which gave him the empire of India, all is in keeping; and when he relates the rewards he bestowed on Mir Muhammad Jaliban, his architect, for successfully executing his noble design of throwing a bridge over the Ganges, “before he had been three years sovereign of Hindustan,” and with the same simplicity records his own “introduction of melons and grapes into India,” we are tempted to humiliating reflections on the magniloquence with which we paint our own few works of public good, and contrast them unfavourably with those of the Transoxianic monarch, not then twenty-five years of age! Nor let the reader who may be induced to take up the volume fail to give homage to the translator,^[A] whose own simple, yet varied and vigorous mind has transferred the very soul of Babur into his translation.

CHAPTER 5

Dhāreswar, February 14: six miles; therm. 46° at 5 A.M.—From Kanera to Dhareswar there is a gradual descent, perhaps equal to one-third of the angle of ascent of the table-land. For half the distance the surface is a fine rich soil, but the last half is strewed with fragments of the rock. Dhareswar is beautifully situated at the lowest point of descent, with a clear stream, planted with fine timber to the south. The Bhumia rights are enjoyed by some Kachhwaha Rajputs, who pay a share of the crops to Kanera. Passed a few small hamlets in the grey of the morning, and several herd of elk-deer, who walked away from us with great deliberation; but the surface was too stony to try our horses’ mettle.

15th, Ratangarh Kheri, distance nine miles.—The road over 1673a bare rock, skirting a stream flowing on its surface. Two miles from Dhareswar is the boundary of Kanera, and the Chaurasi (eighty-four townships) of Kheri; the descent still graduating to Kheri, which is probably not above one hundred feet higher than the external plains [637] of Mewar. The road was over loose stones with much jungle, but here and there some fine patches of rich black soil. We kept company with the Dhareswar nala all the way, which is well wooded in its course, and presented a pretty fall at one point of our journey. Passed several hamlets, and a colony of Charans, whom I found to be some of my friends of Marla. They had not forgotten their privilege; but as the ladies were only the matrons of the colony, there would have been no amusement in captivity; so I dropped five rupees into the brazen kalas, and passed on. The cavalcade of the Kamavisdar of Kheri was also at hand, consisting of about two hundred horse and foot, having left his castle on the peak to greet and conduct me to my tents. He is a relation of old Lalaji Balal, and intelligent and polite. Our tents were pitched near the town, to which the Pandit conducted us; after which act of civility, in the character of the locum tenens of my friend Lalaji, and his sovereign Sindhia (in whose camp I sojourned twelve long years), he took his leave, inviting me to the castle; but as it contained nothing antique, I would not give cause for jealousy to his prince by accepting his invitation, and civilly declined.

The Chaurasi, or eighty-four [townships] of Ratangarh Kheri, was in S. 1828 (A.D. 1772) assigned to Mahadaji Sindhia, to pay off a war-contribution; and until S. 1832, its revenues were regularly accounted for. It was then made over to Berji Tap, the son-in-law of Sindhia, and has ever since remained alienated from Mewar. The treason of the chief of Begun, one of the sixteen nobles of the Rana, lost this jewel in his crown, for he seized upon the Chaurasi, which adjoined his own estate, situated on the skirt of this alpine region. To expel him the Rana called on Sindhia, who not only took the Chaurasi, but Begun itself, which was heavily fined, and forty of its best villages, or half his fief, were mortgaged to pay the mulct. The landscape from these heights is very fine; the Pandit, from his aerial abode, can look down on Kheri, and exclaim with Selkirk—

1674but I would dispute his right with all my heart, if I could do so with success.

Little Atoa.^[1]—Distance eight miles, thermometer at daybreak 40°, with a cutting wind, straight from the north, which we keenly felt as our party ascended the heights of Ratangarh. The altitude of this second steppe in the plateau is under four hundred feet, although the winding ascent made it by the perambulator five furlongs. The fort is erected on a projection of the mountain, and the works are in pretty good order. They had been adding fresh ones on the accessible side, which the general state of [638] security has put a stop to. In fact, it could not hold out twenty-four hours against a couple of mortars, the whole interior being commanded from a height within easy range. I asked my old guide if the castle had ever stood a storm: his reply was in the negative: “She is still a kumari (a virgin), and all forts are termed kumaris, until they stand an assault.”^[2] We had a superb view from the summit, which is greatly above the level of Kanera, whose boundary line was distinct. The stream from Dhareswar was traced gliding through its embankments of black rock, covered with luxuriant young crops, and studded with mango and mahua trees. It is a singular fact, that the higher we ascended, the less mischief had been inflicted on the crops, although the sugar-cane looked prematurely ripe. The wheat fields were luxuriant, but the barley showed in their grizzly beards here and there an evidence of having suffered. I also noted that invariably all the low branches of the mahua trees were injured, the leaves shrivelled and dried up, while the superior ones were not affected. The field-peas (batloi)^[3] sown with the barley were more or less injured, but not nearly so much as at Kanera.

The road was execrable, if road it could be termed, which for 1675many miles was formed for me by the kindness of the Pandit, who cut a path through the otherwise impenetrable jungle, the abode of elks and tigers, sufficient to pass my baggage. This route is never passed by troops; but I had curiosity to indulge, not comfort. About four miles from the castle, we ascended another moderate elevation to the village of Umar, whence we saw Paragarh on the left, and learning that it contained an inscription, I dispatched one of my pandits to copy it. A mile farther brought us to the extremity of the ridge serving as a landmark to the Chaurasi of Kheri. From it we viewed another steppe, that we shall ascend the day after to-morrow, from which I am told the Patar gradually shelves to the banks of the Chambal, the termination of our journey. As we passed the village of Ummedpura (Hopetown), a sub-infeudation of Begun, held by the uncle of its chief, we were greeted by the Thakur, accompanied by two of his kinsmen. They were all well mounted, lance in hand, and attired in their quilted tunics and deer-skin doublet, of itself no contemptible armour. They conveyed their chief’s compliments, and having accompanied me to my tents, took leave.

Chhota, or little Atoa, is also held by a sub-vassal of the same clan, the Meghawats of Begun; his name Dungar Singh, ‘the mountain lion,’ now with me, and who long enjoyed the pre-eminent distinction of being chief reiver of the Patar [639]. With our party he has the familiar appellation of Roderic Dhu, and without boasting of his past exploits, he never dreams of their being coupled with dishonour. Although he scoured the country far and near to bring blackmail to his mountain-retreat, it was from the Mahrattas chiefly that his wants were supplied; and he required but the power, to have attained the same measure of celebrity as his ancestor the ‘Blackcloud’ (Kala-megh) of Begun. Still, his name was long the bugbear of this region, and the words Dungar Singh aya! ‘the mountain lion is at hand!’ were sufficient to scare the peaceful occupants of the surrounding country from their property, or to arm them for its defence. With the ‘Southron’ he had just cause of quarrel, since, but for him, he would have been lord of Nadwai and its twenty-four villages, of which his grandfather was despoiled at the same time that this alpine region was wrested by Sindhia from his sovereign. This tappa, however, fell to Holkar; but the father of Dungar, 1676lance in hand, gave the conqueror no rest, until he granted him a lease in perpetuity of four of the villages of his patrimony, two of which were under Holkar’s own seal, and two under that of the renter. About twenty years ago, the latter having been resumed, Sheo Singh took up his lance again, and initiated the mountain-lion, his son, in the lex talionis. He flung away the scabbard, sent his family for security to the Raja of Shahpura, and gave his mind up to vengeance. The father and son, and many other brave spirits with the same cause of revenge, carried their incursions into the very heart of Malwa, bringing back the spoils to his den at little Atoa. But though his hand was now raised against every man, he forgot not his peculiar feud (wair), and his patrimony of Nadwai yielded little to the Mahratta. But Sheo Singh was surrounded by foes, who leagued to circumvent him, and one day, while driving many a goodly buffalo to his shelter, he was suddenly beset by a body of horse placed in ambush by the Bhao. But both were superbly mounted, and they led them a chase through Mandalgarh, and were within the very verge of security, when, as Sheo Singh put his mare to the nala, she played him false and fell, and ere she recovered herself the long lance of Mahratta was through the rider. Young Dungar was more fortunate, and defying his pursuers to clear the rivulet, bound up the body of his father in his scarf, ascended the familiar path, and burnt it at midnight, amongst the family altars of Nadwai. But far from destroying, this only increased the appetite for vengeance, which has lasted till these days of peace; and, had every chieftain of Mewar acted like Dungar, the Mahratta would have had fewer of their fields to batten on to-day. His frank, but energetic answer, when the envoy mentioned the deep complaints urged [640] against him by the present manager of Nadwai, was “I must have bread!” and this they had snatched from him. But Holkar’s government, which looks not to the misery inflicted, carries loud complaints to the resident authorities, who can only decide on the principle of possession, and the abstract view of Dungar’s course of life. For myself, I do not hesitate to avow, that my regard for the chiefs of Mewar is in the ratio of their retaliation on their ‘Southron’ foe; and entering deeply into all their great and powerful grounds for resentment, I warmly espoused the cause of the ‘mountain-lion’; and as the case (through Mr. Gerald Wellesley) was left by Holkar’s government to my arbitration, I secured to the chief 1677a part of his patrimony under their joint seal, and left him to turn his lance into a plough-share, until fresh causes for just aggression may arise. This settlement gave me another proof of the inalienable right in land granted by the ryot cultivator, and its superiority over that granted by the sovereign. There were certain rights in the soil (bhum) which Dungar’s ancestors had thus obtained, in the township of Nadwai, to which he attached a higher value than to the place itself. Dungar’s story affords a curious instance of the laws of adoption superseding, if not the rank, the fortune resulting from birthright. Sheo Singh and Daulat Singh, both sub-vassals of Begun, were brothers; the former had Nadwai, the latter Rawarda. But Daulat Singh, having no issue, adopted Salim Singh, the younger brother of Dungar, who has thus become lord of Rawarda, of nearly four thousand rupees annual rent, while Dungar’s chief place is little Atoa, and the bhum of Nadwai. Salim Singh is now in high favour with his chief of Begun, to whom he is Faujdar, or leader of the vassals. In personal appearance he has greatly the advantage of Dungar; Salim is tall and very handsome, bold in speech and of gentlemanly deportment; Dungar is compact in form, of dark complexion, rugged in feature, and bluntness itself in phrase, but perfectly good-humoured, frank, and unreserved; and as he rode by my side, he amused me with many anecdotes connected with the scenery around.

Singoli,^[4] February 17, eight and a half miles, thermometer 40°.—This town is chief of a tappa or subdivision, containing fifty-two villages, of the district of Antri, a term applied to a defile, or tract surrounded by mountains. The Antri of Mewar is fertilized by the Bamani, which finds its way through a singular diversity of country, after two considerable falls, to the Chambal, and is about thirty miles in length, reckoning from Bichor to the summit of the steppe of the plateau, by about ten miles in breadth, producing the most luxuriant crops of wheat, barley, gram, sugar-cane, and poppy; and [641] having, spread over its surface, one hundred villages and hamlets, but a section of the country will make it better understood.

From Bichor, the pass opening from the plains of Mewar, to the highest peak of this alpine Patar, the Kala Megh, or ‘black cloud,’ 1679of Begun, bore sway. From him sprung another of the numerous clans of Mewar, who assumed the patronymic Meghawat. These clans and tribes multiply, for Kala Megh and his ancestors were recognized as a branch of the Sangawat, one of the early subdivisions of the Chondawat, the chief clan of Mewar. The descendant of the ‘black cloud,’ whose castle of Begun is near the entrance to Antri, could not now muster above a hundred and fifty men at arms throughout the Patar; to which he might add as many more of foreign Rajputs, as the Hara and Gaur, holding lands for service. The head of the Meghawats has not above twenty villages in his fief of Begun, though these might yield twenty-five thousand rupees annually, if cultivated; the rest is still in the hands of the Mahrattas, as a mortgage contracted nearly forty years ago, and which has been liquidated ten times over: they include, in this, even a third of the produce of his own place of residence, and the town itself is never free from these intruders, who are continually causing disturbances. Unhappily for Mewar, the grand principle of the campaign and its political results, “that of excluding the Mahrattas from the west bank of the Chambal,” was forgotten in our successes, or all the alienated lands of Mewar as far as the Malwa frontier would have reverted to the Rana.

The Chief of Ummedpura.

—The hamlets on the Patar consist of huts with low mud walls, and tiled roofs; even Ummedpura, though inhabited by the uncle of the chief, is no better than the rest, and his house is one which the poorest peasant in England would not occupy. Yet steeped in poverty, its chieftain, accompanied by his son, nephew, and fifteen more of his kin and clan, came “for the purpose of doing himself, his lord paramount of Begun, and the British Agent, honour.” The mountain-chief of Ummedpura affords a fine example [642], that noble bearing may be independent of the trappings of rank; high descent and proper self-respect appeared in every feature and action. Dressed in a homely suit of amaua, or russet green, with a turban of the same (the favourite hunting costume of the Rajput); over all the corselet of the skin of the elk, slain by himself; with his bright lance in hand, and mounted on a good strong horse, whose accoutrements like his master’s were plain but neat, behold the vassal of Ummedpura equipped for the chase or foray. The rest of his party followed him on foot, gay and unconcerned as the 1680wild-deer of the Patar; ignorant of luxury, except a little amalpani when they go to Begun; and whose entire wants, including food, raiment, gunpowder, and tobacco, can be amply supplied by about £8 a year each! The party accompanied me to my tents, and having presented brilliant scarlet turbans and scarfs, with some English gunpowder, to the chief, his son, and nephew, we parted mutually pleased at the rencontre.

The descent to Singoli is very gentle, nor are we above eighty feet below the level of Umar, the highest point of the Patar, which I rejoice to have visited, but lament the want of my barometers. Singoli, in such a tract as this, may be entitled a town, having fifteen hundred inhabited dwellings encompassed by a strong wall. The Pandit is indebted to his own good management, and the insecurity around him, for this numerous population. In the centre of the town, the dingy walls of a castle built by Alu Hara strike the eye, from the contrast with the new works added by the Pandit; it has a deep ditch, with a fausse-braye, and parapet. The circumvallation measures a mile and three-quarters. About a mile to the north-west are the remains of a temple to Vijayaseni Bhavani, the Pallas of the Rajputs. I found a tablet recording the piety of the lord paramount of the Patar, in a perpetual gift of lights for the altar. It runs thus: “Samvat 1477 (A.D. 1421), the 2d of Asoj, being Friday (Bhriguwar^[5]), Maharaja Sri Mokal-ji, 1681in order to furnish lights (jyotis waste) for Vijayaseni Bhavaniji [643], has granted one bigha and a half of land. Whosoever shall set aside this offering, the goddess will overtake him.” This is a memorial of the celebrated Rana Mokal of Mewar, whose tragical death by assassination has been recorded in the annals of that State.^[6] Mokal was one of the most celebrated of this race; and he defeated, in a pitched battle at Raepur, a grandson of the emperor of Delhi. He was the father of Lalbai, called ‘the Ruby of Mewar,’ regarding whom we have related a little scandal from the chronicle of the Bhattis (see p. 1218); but the bard of the Khichis, who says that prince Dhiraj espoused her in spite of the insult of the desert chief, had no cause to doubt the lustre of this gem.

Legends of the Hāras.

—The Patar resounds with the traditionary tales of the Haras, who, at a very early period, established themselves in this alpine region, on which they erected twelve castles for its protection, all of them still to be traced existing or in ruins; and although they assumed the title of ‘lords of the Patar,’ they acknowledged the supremacy of the Ranas of Mewar, whom they obeyed as liege lords at this very time. Of these twelve castles, Ratangarh is the only one not entirely dismantled; though even the ruins of another, Dilwargarh, had been the cause of a bloody feud between the Meghawat of Begun and the Saktawat of Gwalior, also in the Patar. That of Paranagar, or Paroli, lies a short distance from thence, but the most famous of all is Bumbaoda, placed upon the western crest of the plateau, and 1682overlooking the whole plain of Mewar. Although some centuries have elapsed since the Haras were expelled from this table-land, the name of Alu of Bumbaoda still lives, and is familiar even to the savage Bhil, who, like the beasts, subsists upon the wild fruits of the jungles. It is my intention to return by another route across the Patar, and to visit the site of Alu’s dwelling; meanwhile I will give one of the many tales related of him by my guide, as I traversed the scenes of his glory.

Ālu Hāra.

—Alu Hara, one day, returning homeward from the chase, was accosted by a Charan, who, having bestowed his blessing upon him, would accept of nothing in exchange but [644] the turban from his head. Strange as was the desire, he preferred compliance to incurring the visarwa,^[7] or ‘vituperation of the bard’; who, placing Alu’s turban on his own head, bade him ‘live a thousand years,’ and departed. The Charan immediately bent his steps to Mandor, the capital of Maru; and as he was ushered into the presence of its prince and pronounced the birad of the Rathors, he took off his turban with the left hand, and performed his salutation with the right. The unusual act made the prince demand the cause, when in reply he was told “that the turban of Alu Hara should bend to none on earth.” Such reverence to an obscure chief of the mountains of Mewar enraged the King of the Desert, who unceremoniously kicked the turban out of doors. Alu, who had forgotten the strange request, was tranquilly occupied in his pastime, when his quondam friend again accosted him, his head bare, the insulted turban under his arm, and loudly demanding vengeance on the Rathor, whose conduct he related. Alu was vexed, and upbraided the Charan for having wantonly provoked this indignity towards him. “Did I not tell you to ask land, or cattle, or money, yet nothing would please you but this rag; and my head must answer for the insult to a vile piece of cloth; for nothing appertaining to Alu Hara shall be insulted with impunity even by the Thakur of Marwar.” Alu forthwith convened his clan, and soon five hundred “sons of one father” were assembled within the walls of Bumbaoda, ready to follow wheresoever he led. He explained to them the desperate nature of the enterprise from which none could expect to return; and he prepared the fatal Johar for all those who determined to 1683die with him. This first step to vengeance being over, the day of departure was fixed; but previous to this he was anxious to ensure the safety of his nephew, who, on failure of direct issue, was the adopted heir of Bumbaoda. He accordingly locked him up in the inner keep of the castle, within seven gates, each of which had a lock, and furnishing him with provisions, departed.

The prince of Mandor was aware he had entailed a feud; but so little did he regard what this mountain-chief might do, that he proclaimed “all the lands over which the Hara should march to be in dan (gift) to the Brahmans.” But Alu, who despised not the aid of stratagem, disguised his little troop as horse-merchants, and placing their arms and caparisons in covered carriages, and their steeds in long strings, the hostile caravan reached the capital unsuspected. The party took rest for the night; but with the dawn they saddled, and the nakkaras of the Hara awoke the Rathor prince from his slumber; starting up, he demanded who was the audacious [645] mortal that dared to strike his drum at the gates of Mandor? The answer was,—“Alu Hara of Bumbaoda!”

The mother (probably a Chauhani) of the King of Maru now asked her son “how he meant to fulfil his vaunt of giving to the Brahmans all the lands that the Hara passed over?” but he had the resolution to abide by his pledge, and the magnanimity not to take advantage of his antagonist’s position; and to his formal challenge, conveyed by beat of nakkara, he proposed that single combats should take place, man for man. Alu accepted it, and thanked him for his courtesy, remarking to his kinsmen, “At least we shall have five hundred lives to appease our revenge!”

The lists were prepared; five hundred of the “chosen sons of Siahji” were marshalled before their prince to try the manhood of the Haras; and now, on either side, a champion had stepped forth to commence this mortal strife, when a stripling rushed in, his horse panting for breath, and demanded to engage a gigantic Rathor. The champions depressed their lances, and the pause of astonishment was first broken by the exclamation of the Hara chieftain, as he thus addressed the youth: “Oh! headstrong and disobedient, art thou come hither to extinguish the race of Alu Hara?”—“Let it perish, uncle (kaka), if, when you are in peril, 1684I am not with you!” replied the adopted heir of Bumbaoda. The veteran Rathor smiled at the impetuous valour of the youthful Hara, who advanced with his sword ready for the encounter. His example was followed by his gallant antagonist, and courtesy was exhausted on either side to yield the first blow; till, at length, Alu’s nephew accepted it; and it required no second, for he clove the Rathor in twain. Another took his place—he shared the same fate; a third, a fourth, and in like manner twenty-five, fell under the young hero’s sword. But he bore ‘a charmed life’; the queen of armies (Vijayaseni), whose statue guards the entrance of Bumbaoda, had herself enfranchized the youth from the sevenfold gates, in which his uncle had incarcerated him, and having made him invulnerable except in one spot (the neck),^[8] sent him forth to aid his uncle, and gain fresh glory for the race of which she was the guardian. But the vulnerable point was at length touched, and Alu saw the child of his love and his adoption stretched upon the earth. The queen-mother of the Rathors, who witnessed the conflict, dreaded a repetition of such valour, from men in whom desire of life was extinct; and she commanded that the contest should cease, and reparation be made to the lord of the Patar, by giving him in marriage a daughter of Mandor. Alu’s honour was redeemed; he accepted the offer, and with his bride repaired to the desolate Bumbaoda. The [646] fruit of this marriage was a daughter; but destiny had decreed that the race of Alu Hara should perish. When she had attained the age of marriage, she was betrothed. Bumbaoda was once more the scene of joy, and Alu went to the temple and invited the goddess to the wedding. All was merriment; and amongst the crowd of mendicants who besieged the door of hospitality was a decrepit old woman, who came to the threshold of the palace, and desired the guard to “tell Alu Hara she had come to the feast, and demanded to see him”; but the guard, mocking her, desired her to be gone, and “not to stand between the wind and him”: she repeated her request, saying that “she had come by special invitation.” But all was in vain; she was driven forth with scorn. Uttering a deep curse, she departed, and the race of Alu Hara was extinct. It was Vijayaseni herself, who was thus repulsed from the house of which she was protectress!

1685A good moral is here inculcated upon the Rajput, who, in the fatal example of Alu Hara, sees the danger of violating the laws of wide-extended hospitality: besides, there was no hour too sacred, no person too mean, for such claims upon the ruler. For the present, we shall take leave of Alu Hara, and the ‘Mother of Victory’ of the Patar, whose shrine I hope to visit on my return from Haravati; when we shall learn what part of her panoply she parted with to protect the gallant heir of Bumbaoda.

Dāngarmāu,^[9] February 18, eight miles; thermometer 48°.—A choice of three routes presented itself to us this morning. To the left lay the celebrated Menal, once the capital of Uparmal; on the right, but out of the direct line, was the castle of Bhainsror, scarcely less celebrated; and straight before us the pole-star and Kotah, the point to which I was journeying. I cut the knot of perplexity by deviating from the direct line, to descend the table-land to Bhainsror, and without crossing the Chambal, nearly retraced my steps, along the left bank, to Kotah, leaving Menal for my return to Udaipur. Our route lay through the Antri, or valley, whose northern boundary we had reached, and between it and the Bamani. The tract was barren but covered with jungle, with a few patches of soil lodged amidst the hollows or otherwise bare rock, over whose black surface several rills had cut a low bed, all falling into the Bamani. One of these had a name which we need not translate, Rani bur-ka-khal, and which serves as a boundary between the lands of the Meghawats of Antri and the Saktawats of Bhainsror.

Dangarmau-Barao is a small patta of twelve villages, yielding fifteen thousand [647] rupees of annual rent; but it is now partitioned,—six villages to each of the towns above mentioned. They are Saktawat allotments, and the elder, Sakat Singh, has just returned from court, where he had been to have the sword of investiture (talwar bandhai) girt on him as the lord of Barao. Bishan Singh of Dangarmau is at Kotah, where he enjoys the confidence of Zalim Singh and is commandant of cavalry. He has erected a castle on the very summit of the third steppe of the Patar, whose dazzling white walls contrast powerfully with the black and bleak rock on which it stands, and render it a conspicuous object. The Saktawats of the Patar are of the Bansi 1686family,^[10] itself of the second grade of nobles of Mewar; and the rank of both the chiefs of Dangarmau and Barao was the third, or that termed gol; but now, having each a patta (at least nominally) of above five thousand rupees yearly rent, they are lifted into the Battisa, or amongst the ‘thirty-two’ of the second class.

The Bamani, whose course will carry us to its close at Bhainsror, flows under the walls of both Dangarmau and Barao, and is the cause not only of great fertility but of diversity, in this singular alpine region. The weather has again undergone a very sensible change, and is extremely trying to those, who, like myself, are affected by a pulmonary complaint, and who are obliged to brave the mists of the mountain-top long before the sun is risen. On the second, at daybreak, the thermometer stood at 60°, and only three days after, at 27°; again it rose to 40° and for several days stood at this point, and 75° at midday. The day before we ascended the Patar it rose to 54°, and 94° at noon; and on reaching the summit, 60° and 90°; again it falls to 40°, and we now shiver with cold. The density of the atmosphere has been particularly annoying both yesterday and to-day. Clouds of mist rolled along the surface of the mountain, which, when the sun cleared the horizon, and shot about ‘spear-high’ in the heavens, produced the most fantastic effects. The orb was clear and the sky brilliant; but the masses of mist, though merely a thin vapour and close to the spectator, exhibited singular and almost kaleidoscopic changes. There was scarcely a figure that the sun did not assume; the upper half appearing orbicular, the lower elliptical: in a second, this was reversed. Sometimes it was wholly elliptical, with a perfect change of the axis, the transverse and conjugate changing places—a loaf, a bowl, and at one instant a scollop-shell, then ‘round as my shield,’ and again a segment of a circle, and thus alternating until its ascension dissipated the medium of this beautiful illusion, the more perfect from the sky being cloudless. The mists disappeared from the mountain long before this phantasmagoria finished [648].

5. A name of Sukracharya, the Regent of the planet Venus. The ‘star of eve’ is always called Sukra, but presents a most unpoetic idea to the mind, when we learn that this star, the most beautiful of the heavenly host, is named after an immoral one-eyed male divinity, who lost his other orb in an undignified personal collision, from an assault upon Tara (the star), the wife of a brother-god. Sukracharya, notwithstanding, holds the office of Guru, or spiritual adviser, to the whole celestial body—we may add ex uno disce omnes: and assuredly the Hindu who takes the mythological biography of his gods au pied de la lettre, cannot much strengthen his morality thereby. The classical Hindu of these days values it as he ought, looking upon it as a pretty astronomical fable, akin to the voyage of the Argonauts; but the bulk enter the temple of the “thirty-three millions of gods” with the same firmness of belief as did the old Roman his Pantheon. The first step, and a grand one, has been made to destroy this fabric of Polytheism, and to turn the mind of the Hindu to the perception of his own purer creed, adoration of “the one, omniscient, omnipotent, and eternal God.” Rammohun Roy has made this step, who “has become a law unto himself,” and a precursor, it is to be hoped, of benefit to his race. In the practical effects of Christianity, he is a Christian, though still a devout Brahman, adoring the Creator alone, and exercising an extended charity, with a spirit of meekness, toleration, and benevolence, added to manly resistance of all that savours of oppression, which stamps him as a man chosen for great purposes. To these moral, he adds mental qualifications of the highest order: clear and rapid perception, vigorous comprehension, immense industry of research, and perfect self-possession; having, moreover, a classical knowledge, not of our language only, but of Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Persian, Arabic, and the ‘mother-tongue,’ or langue-mère of all, the Sanskrit. [Philologists now regard Sanskrit as later than Greek or Latin.]

Bhainsrorgarh, February 19.—Bhainsrorgarh,^[1] ten miles, four furlongs; thermometer 51°; atmosphere dense and oppressive, and roads execrable, through a deep forest; but for the hatchets of my friends, my baggage never could have been got on. We passed several hamlets, consisting of a dozen or more huts, the first of which I find belongs to my young friend Morji of Gura, himself a vassal of the Pramar of Bijoli (one of the sixteen Omras of Mewar), and holding a few bighas of bhum, as his bat or share of the bapota (patrimony) of Barao. We have elsewhere given a copy of the tenure on which Morji holds a village in the fief of Bijoli.^[2] At seven miles from Dangarmau, we came to a small shrine of an Islamite saint, who buried himself alive. It is an elevated point, from whence is a wild but lovely prospect. There is a kund, or ‘fountain,’ planted with trees, close to the shrine, which attracts a weekly mela or ‘fair,’ attended by all classes, who cannot help attributing some virtue to a spot where a saint, though a Muslim, thus expiated his sins. In descending, we heard the roaring of mighty waters, and soon came upon the Bamani, forming a fine cascade of about fifty feet in height; its furious course during the monsoon is apparent from the weeds it has left on the trees, at least twenty feet above its present level. The fall of the country is rapid, even from this lower spot, to the bed of the Chambal. Uparmal must have a considerable elevation above the table-land of Janapao, where the Chambal and other streams have their fountains; but of all this we shall by and by form a more correct opinion. We passed the cairn of a Rajput who fell defending his post against the Minas of the Kairar, a tract on the banks of the Banas, filled with this banditti, in one of their last irruptions which disturbed the peace of this region. Each traveller adds a stone, and I gave my mite to swell the heap [649].

The patta of Bhainsror is held by Raghunath Singh, one of the sixteen great lords of Mewar, having the very ancient title of Rawat, peculiar to Rajputana, and the diminutive of Rao.^[3] Bhainsror is one of the best fiefs of Mewar, and the lands attached 1688to it are said to be capable of yielding one lakh of annual revenue, equal to £50,000 in the dearest countries of Europe; and when I add that a cavalier can support himself, his steed, etc., on £50, its relative value will at once be understood. He has also a toll upon the ferries of the Chambal, though not content therewith, he levied until lately a percentage on all merchandise, besides impositions on travellers of whatever description, under the name of kot ki marummat, or ‘repairs of the castle’: were we, however, to judge by its dilapidated condition, we should say his exactions were very light, or the funds were misapplied. This is the sole passage of the Chambal for a great extent, and all the commerce of higher Malwa, Haraoti, and Mewar passes through this domain. The class of Banjaras (traders) termed Vaishnava, long established at the city of Pur in Mewar, frequent no other route in their journey from the salt-lakes of the desert to Malwa or Bundelkhand. Their tanda or caravan consists of six thousand bullocks, and they never make less than two, and often three, trips in the year. The duty of the Raj is five rupees for each hundred head thus laden; but the feudatory, not content with his imposition of ‘castle repairs’ and ‘bhum’ as lord of the manor, has added a hundred and fifty per cent to the regular transit duty of the State, which is divided into two items; namely, three rupees and a half for the ferry, and as much for bolai, or safe escort through his territory. But as Haraoti always afforded protection (which could be said of no other region of independent India), the ghat of the Chambal was much frequented, in spite of these heavy drawbacks to industry. My friend the Rawat has, however, found it expedient to remove all these war-taxes, retaining only that portion which has been attached to the frontier post, for protection; and a portion of the ferry-rate granted to this fief nearly two centuries ago. Instead of about fifteen per cent, as heretofore levied, including that of the crown, it amounts to less than one-half, and the revenue has been quadrupled!

Bhainsrorgarh Fort.

—The castle of Bhainsror is most romantically situated upon the extreme point of a ridge, on an almost isolated rib of the Patar, from which we have descended. To the east, its abrupt cliff overhangs the placid expanse of the Chambal, its height above which is about two hundred feet: the level of the river in the monsoon is marked at full thirty feet above its present 1689elevation. The Bamani bounds Bhainsror on the west, and by the rapidity of its fall has completely scarped the rock, even to [650] the angle of confluence within which is placed the castle, to whose security a smaller intermediate stream not a little contributes. As by mistake it is placed in the map on the wrong side of the Bamani, we shall correct this error by giving a slight plan of the ground.

On the north alone is it accessible, and there the hill is scarped; but this scarp, which is about three hundred yards distant, forms a good cover, and a few shells thence played upon the castle would soon compel it to surrender. The rock is a soft, loose, blue schistose slate, which would not retard the miner. The approach from the river, here about five hundred yards wide, would be destruction. It is never fordable, and its translucent sea-green waters are now full forty feet in depth. When in the periodical rains it accumulates at its source, and is fed during its passage by many minor streams from the Vindhya and this oberland, its velocity is overwhelming; it rises above the opposing bank, and laying the whole tract to the base of the tableland of Haraoti under water, sweeps away in its irresistible course even the rocks. Speculation might here be exhausted in vain attempts to explain how nature could overcome this formidable obstacle to her operations, and how the stream could effect its passage through this adamantine barrier. The channel cut in the rock is as clean as if performed by the chisel, and standing on the summit of the cliff, which is from three hundred to seven hundred feet in height, 1690one discerns in imagination the marks of union: to use the words of our last great bard, on the Rhone,

The Rapids of the Chambal.

—I shall by and by, I trust, obtain a more correct knowledge of the comparative elevation of this plateau, and the crest of the Vindhya whence issues the Chambal; but although this stream is, of course, much below the level of its source, yet there is little doubt that the summit of this chasm (uparmal) is, as its name indicates, the ‘highest land’ of Malwa. I say this after making myself acquainted with the general depression of [651] Malwa to this point, in which we are aided by the course of the stream. Under Bhainsror, the current is never very gentle; but both above and below there are rapids, if not falls, of thirty to fifty feet in descent. That above the stream is termed the Chuli, because full of whirlpools and eddies, which have given a sacred character to it, like the Nerbudda, at ‘the whirlpools of the great god,’ Chuli Maheswar. A multitude of the round stones taken out of these vortices, when they have been rounded by attrition into a perfectly orbicular form, only require consecration and a little red paint to be converted into the representatives of Bhairon, the god of war, very properly styled the elder born of Siva, the destroyer. This is about two miles up the stream; there is another at Kotra, about three miles down, with several successive rapids. There is a fall in the vicinity of Rampura, and another about five coss north of it, at Churetagarh, where the river first penetrates the plateau. There, I understand, it is not above seventy yards in breadth, confined between cliffs perfectly perpendicular. There is also said to be another fall or rapid intermediate between Rampura and its source in the peak of Janapao,^[4] in the neighbourhood of Un. If these are all the falls, though only amounting to rapids, we may form a tolerable idea of the difference of level between the base of the Uparmal and the highland of the Vindhya, whence the Chambal issues; and still we shall see that there are points where the perpendicular cliffs must be some hundred feet above the peak of Janapao; if so, this chasm was never formed by water.

1691Mewar still extends east of the river, and the greater part of the estate of Bhainsror is on the opposite side. A small stream, called the Karab-ka-khal, divides the lands of the Haras from those of the Sesodias, and there is a bijak-marga, or landmark inscription, at the Shesa talao, put up centuries ago. To this line, and between it and the Chambal, is the paita of Kundal; and farther south, towards Rampura, is that of Pachail, both containing twenty-four villages attached to Bhainsror. All that tract farther inland in Upper Malwa, termed Malkides, in which are the towns of Chaichat and Saket, was in old times included geographically in Mewar: it is yet possessed by the Saktawats, though subject to Kotah.

Tradition has preserved the etymology of Bhainsror, and dates its erection from the second century of the era of Vikrama, though others make it antecedent even to him. Be that as it may, it adds a fact of some importance, namely, that the Charans, or bards, were then, as now, the privileged carriers of Rajwara, and that this was one of their great lines of communication. Bhainsror, therefore, instead of being the work [652] of some mighty conqueror, owes its existence to the joint efforts of Bhainsa Sah, the merchant, and Rora, a Charan and Banjara, to protect their tandas (caravans) from the lawless mountaineers, when compelled to make a long halt during the periodical rains.^[5] How many lines of heroes possessed it before the Haras established themselves among its ruins is unknown, though the “universal Pramar” is mentioned. Its subsequent change of masters, and their names and history, are matters of less doubt; since the altars of the Dudia, the Pramar, the Rathor, the Saktawat, the Chondawat,

are still visible. Of the Dudia name we have already preserved one wreck, though the “rocket of the moon,” was of the family who dwelt upon the whirlpools of the Chambal, we must leave to conjecture. Not so of his successor, the Rathor, who was a scion of the house of Mewa,^[6] on the Salt River of the desert, from which, though he was but a vassal of Mandor, the Rana scorned not to take a wife boasting the pure blood of the kings of Kanauj. A 1692younger brother accompanied her to the court of Chitor. Soon after, the Rawal of Jaisalmer dared to put an affront upon the Rana, the acknowledged head of the Rajput race! The chivalry of Mewar was assembled, and the bira of vengeance held up, which the stripling heir of Mewa, darting forward, obtained. Although but fifteen years of age, entreaties were lost upon him to induce him to renounce the enterprise, which in all probability some border-feud of his paternal house and the Bhattis, as well as swamidharma, or fealty, to his sovereign and kinsman, may have prompted. His only request was that he might be aided by two of his intimate friends, and five hundred horse of his own selection. How he passed the desert, or how he gained admittance to the chief of the Bhatti tribe, is not stated; suffice it to say, that he brought the Rawal’s head and placed it at the feet of the sovereign of Chitor, for which service he had a grant of Salumbar; and subsequently (fiefs in those days not being amovable) he was removed to Bhainsror. The young Rathor continued to rise in favour; he was already by courtesy and marriage the bhanej, or nephew, of his sovereign, who for this action bestowed upon him a young princess of his own blood; an honour which in the end proved fatal. One day, the Thakur (chief) was enjoying himself in his baronial hall of Bhainsror, in the midst of his little court, with a nautch, when a fatal curiosity, perhaps instigated by jealousy, induced his Rani to peep out from the lattice above. Offended at this violation of decorum, he said aloud to an attendant, “Tell the Thakurani, if she is [653] eager to come abroad, she may do so, and I will retire.” The lady disputed the justice of the reprimand, asserting that her lord had been mistaken, and tried to shift the reproach to one of her damsels; but failing to convince him, she precipitated herself from the battlements into the whirlpools beneath: the spot where she fell into the Chambal still retains the name of Ranighatta.^[7] When it was reported to the Rana that a false accusation had caused the suicide of his niece, the sentence of banishment from Mewar was pronounced against the Rathor, which was afterwards commuted, out of a regard for his former service, to the sequestration of Bhainsror; and he had the small fief of Nimri and its twenty dependent hamlets, situated upon the Patar, and not far from Bhainsror, bestowed upon him.

1693Bijai Singh, the descendant of the hero of this tale, has just been to see me; a shrewd and stalwart knight, not a whit degenerated by being transplanted from the Luni to the Chambal; for, though surrounded by Mahratta depredators, by means of the fastnesses in which he dwells, and with the aid of his good lance, with which he repays them in kind, he has preserved his little estate in times so fatal to independence. Had I not entered deeply into the history of the past, I might have been led away by the disadvantageous reports given of these brave men, who were classed with the common freebooters of the hills, and pointed out as meriting similar chastisement; since these associations, both for their own security and retaliation on the vagabond Mahrattas, who usurped or destroyed their birthright, gave a colour to the complaints against them.

The Pramar (vulg. Puar) succeeded the Rathor in the fief of Bhainsror. How long the former held it is uncertain; but the mode in which the last vassal chieftain lost it and his life together, affords another trait of national manners. Here again the fair, whose influence over the lords of Rajputana we have elsewhere mentioned, was the cause of the catastrophe. The Pramar had espoused the daughter of his neighbour chieftain of Begun, and they lived happily until a game at pachisi, somewhat resembling chess, caused a dispute, in which he spoke slightingly of her family, an affront never to be pardoned by a Rajputni; and the next day she wrote to her father. The messenger had not left his presence with the reply, before the nakkara beat the assembly for the kher.^[8] The descendants of the ‘black cloud’ (Kalamegh) obeyed the summons, and the hamlets on the Bamani, or the Patar, poured forth their warriors at the sound of the tocsin of Begun. When the cause of quarrel was explained, it came home to every bosom, and they forthwith marched to avenge it. Their road lay [654] through the forest of Antri; but when arrived within a few coss of Bhainsror, they divided their band, and while the chief took the more circuitous route of the pass, the heir of Begun followed the course of the Bamani, took the Pramar by surprise, and had slain him in single combat ere his father joined him. The insult to the Meghawats being avenged, the Pramars were about to retaliate; but seeing the honour of her house thus dearly maintained, affection succeeded to resentment, and the 1694Rajputni determined to expiate her folly with her life. The funeral pile was erected close to the junction of the Bamani and Chambal, and she ascended with the body of her lord, her own father setting fire to it. I encamped close to the altars recording the event.

This feud changed the law of succession in the Begun estate. The gallantry of the young Meghawat consoled the old chief for the tragical event which lost him a daughter; and in a full council of “the sons of Kalamegh,” the rights of primogeniture were set aside in favour of the valorous youth, and the lord paramount (the Rana) confirmed the decision. The subordinate fief of Jathana, which formerly comprehended the present district of Jawad, was settled on the elder son, whose descendant, Tej Singh, still holds a share of it, besides the title of Rawat. Both estates have alike suffered from the Mahrattas, equally with others in Mewar.

The successor of the Pramar was a Chondawat, of the branch Kishanawat, and a younger son of Salumbar; and it would be well for Lal Singh had he sought no higher distinction than that to which his birth entitled him. But Lalji Rawat was a beacon in the annals of crime, and is still held out as an example to those who would barter a good name here, and the hope of the life to come, for the evanescent gifts of fortune. He purchased the honours of Bhainsror by shedding the blood of his bosom-friend, the uncle of his sovereign.

Nāthji Mahārāja.

—Maharaja Nathji was one of the sons of Rana Sangram Singh, and brother to the reigning prince Jagat Singh, on whose death, doubts of the legitimacy of his successor Raj Singh being raised, Nathji aspired to the dignity; but his projects faded by the death of Raj Singh. He left a posthumous child, whose history, and the civil wars engendered by his uncle Arsi, who took possession of the gaddi, have been fully detailed. Arsi, who was assuredly a usurper, if the pretender was a lawful son of Rana Raj, had suspicions regarding his own uncle Nathji, who had once shown a predilection for the supreme power; but the moment he heard that his nephew fancied he was plotting against him, he renounced ambition, and sought to make his peace with [655] heaven; amusing himself with poetry, in which he had some skill, and by cultivating his melons in the bed of the Banas, which ran under the walls of his castle, Bagor.^[9] The 1695fervour of his devotions, and the love and respect which his qualifications as a man and a Rajput obtained him, now caused his ruin. In the coldest nights, accompanied by a single attendant, he was accustomed to repair to the lake, and thence convey water to sprinkle the statue of his tutelary divinity, ‘the god of all mankind’ (Jagannath). It was reported to the Rana that, by means of these ascetic devotions, he was endeavouring to enlist the gods in his traitorous designs, and, determined to ascertain the truth, Arsi, with a confidential friend, disguised himself, and repaired to the steps of the temple. Nathji soon appeared with his brazen vessel of water, and as he passed, the prince, revealing himself, thus addressed him: “Why all this devotion, this excess of sanctity? if it be the throne you covet, uncle, it is yours”; to which Nathji, in no wise thrown off his guard, replied with much urbanity, “You are my sovereign, my child, and I consider my devotions as acceptable to the deity, from their giving me such a chief, for my prayers are for your prosperity.” This unaffected sincerity reassured the Rana; but the chiefs of Deogarh, Bhindar, and other clans, being dissatisfied with the harsh and uncompromising temper of their sovereign, endeavoured to check his ebullitions by pointing to the Maharaja as a refuge against his tyranny.

To be released from such a restraint, Arsi at last resolved on assassinating his uncle; but his valour and giant strength made the attempt a service of danger, and he therefore employed one who, under the cloak of friendship, could use the poniard without risk. Lal Singh was the man, the bosom friend of the Maharaja, who, besides exchanging turbans with him, had pledged his friendship at the altar; a man who knew every secret of his heart, and that there was no treason in it. It was midnight, when a voice broke in upon his devotions, calling on him from the portico by name. No other could have taken this liberty, and the reply, “Come in, brother Lalji; what brings you here at such an hour?” had scarcely passed the lips of Nathji, when, as he made the last prostration to the image, he received the dagger of his friend in his neck, and the emblem of Siva was covered with his blood! For this service, the assassin was rewarded with the fief of Bhainsror, and a seat amongst the sixteen barons of Mewar; but as the number cannot be increased, the rights of the Saktawat chief of Bansi were cancelled; thus 1696adding one crime to another, which however worked out its own reward, and at once avenged the murder of Nathji, and laid Mewar in ruins, causing [656] fresh streams of the blood which had already so copiously flowed from the civil wars arising out of the hostility of these rival clans, the Saktawats and Chondawats.

Lalji did not long enjoy his honours; his crime of “triple dye” was ever present to his mind, and generated a loathsome, incurable disease; for even in these lands, where such occurrences are too frequent, “the still small voice” is heard: worms consumed the traitor while living, and his memory is blasted now that he is dead; while that of Nathji is sanctified, as a spirit gentle, valorous, and devout.

Man Singh, the son of this man of blood, succeeded to the honours of Bhainsror, and was a soldier of no common stamp. At the battle of Ujjain, where the Rana of Mewar made the last grand stand for independence, Man was badly wounded, made captive, and brought in the train of the conquering Mahratta, when he laid siege to Udaipur. As he was recovering from his wounds, his friends attempted to effect his liberation through that notorious class called the Baoris,^[10] and contrived to acquaint him with the plot. The wounded chief was consoling himself for his captivity by that great panacea for ennui, a nautch, and applauding the fine voice of a songstress of Ujjain as she warbled a tappa of the Panjab, when a significant sign was made by a stranger. He instantly exclaimed that his wounds had broken out afresh, staggered towards his pallet, and throwing down the light, left all in confusion and darkness, which favoured the Baori’s design; who, while one of his friends took possession of the pallet, wrapped the sick chief in a chadar (sheet), threw him on his back, and carried him through the camp of the besiegers to the city. The Rana, rejoiced at his liberation, commanded a salute to be fired, and the first intelligence the Mahratta leader had of his prisoner’s escape was in answer to the question as to the cause of such rejoicing; they then found one of the vassal substitutes of Man still occupying the bed, but the sequel does not mention how such fidelity was repaid. The cenotaph (chhatri) of this brave son of an unworthy sire is at the Tribeni, or point of confluence of the three streams, the Chambal, the Bamani, and 1697the Khal; and from its light and elegant construction, adds greatly to the picturesque effect of the scenery. The present chief, Raghunath Singh, who succeeded Man, has well maintained his independence throughout these perilous times. Bapu Sindhia, whose name will long be remembered as one of the scourges of these realms, tried his skill upon Bhainsror, where the remains of his trenches, to the north-west of the town, are still conspicuous; but he was met with sortie after sortie, while the hill-tribes were nightly let loose upon him, until he was forced to make a precipitate retreat [657].

I cannot conclude the annals of this family without a passing remark on the great moral change effected since the power of Britain has penetrated into these singular abodes. It was my habit to attend on any of the chieftains who honoured me by an invitation to their family fêtes, such as their salgirahs, or ‘birthdays’;^[11] and on these occasions I merged the Agent of the British Government entirely in the friend, and went without ceremony or parade. Amongst my numerous pagri badal bhai, or ‘adopted brothers’ (as well as sisters), was the Maharaja Sheodan Singh, the grandson and possessor of the honours and estates of Nathji, who still enjoys the domain of Bagor, and from whom I used to receive a share of its melons, which he cultivates with the same ardour as his grandsire. The ‘annual knot’ (salgirah) of my friend was celebrated on the terraced roof of his palace, overhanging the lake of Udaipur, and I was by his side listening, in the intervals of the song, to some of his extemporaneous poetical effusions (on which my friend placed rather too high a value), when amongst the congratulatory names called aloud by the herald, I was surprised to hear, “Maharaja Salamat, Rawat Raghunath Singhji-ka mujra lijo!” or, “Health to the Maharaja, and let him receive the compliments of Rawat Raghunath Singh”: the grandson of the murderer come to pay his respects to the grandson of the murdered, and to press with his knee the gaddi on which he sat! With justice may we repeat 1698their powerful metaphor, on such anomalies in the annals of their feuds—bher aur bakri ekhi thali se pītē hain, ‘the wolf and the goat drink from the same platter.’^[12] We might thus, by a little attention to the past history and habits of these singularly interesting races, confer signal moral benefits upon them; for it must be evident that the germs of many excellent qualities require only the sunshine of kindness to ripen into goodly fruit; and for the sake of our own welfare, as well as that of humanity, let not the protecting power, in the exercise of patronage, send amongst them men who are not imbued with feelings which will lead them to understand, to appreciate, and to administer fitting counsel, or correction where necessary. The remembrance of these injuries is still fresh, and it requires but the return of anarchy again to unsheath the poniard and drug the cup; but if we consult their real good, the recollection will gradually grow fainter.

Bhainsror attacked by Alāu-d-dīn.

—Before, however, we altogether quit the wilds of the Chambal, we must record that Bhainsror had been visited by another man of blood, the renowned Alau-d-din, in whose epithets of Khuni, or ‘the sanguinary,’ and Sikandaru-s-sani, or ‘the second Alexander,’ by which history has given him perpetuity of infamy, we recognize the devastating [658] and ferocious Khilji king, who assailed every Hindu prince in India. Obedient to the letter of the law, he had determined to leave not one stone upon another of the temples or palaces of Bhainsror. Everywhere we searched for memorials of the Hun, whose name is also connected with the foundation of Bhainsror; of the Pramar, or the Dudia; but in vain. The vestiges of these ages had disappeared, or been built up in the more modern fortifications. Two such inscriptions we indeed discovered, reversed and applied as common building materials in the walls around the town; one was dated S. 1179 (A.D. 1123), but being in the old ornamented Jain character, would have required time and labour to decipher. The other is also anterior to Ala, and the ornaments in this are decidedly Jain; its purport is as follows: “On the parab (full moon) of Sheoratri (the birthday of Siva), Maharae Dariyai Rae Singh Deo bestowed, in the name of Rameswar, the village of Tatagarh 1699in pun (religious gift). Those who maintain the grant will enjoy the fruits resulting therefrom”; or, in the words of the original:

“Samvat 1302 (A.D. 1246).” This form of sasan, or religious charity, is peculiar, and styled sasan Udayaditya, which proves that the Pramar, of whom this is a memorial, was a feudatory of the prince of Dhar, whose era has been fixed. These discoveries stimulated our research, and my revered friend and Guru, who is now deeply embued with antiquarian enthusiasm, vainly offered a large reward for permission to dig for the image of Parsvanath, his great pontiff, of whose shrine he has no doubt the first inscription is a memorial. When about to leave this place (indeed our baggage had gone on), we were informed of some celebrated temples across the river at a place called Baroli, anciently Dholpur. The shrine is dedicated to Ghateswara Mahadeva, with a lingam revolving in the yoni, the wonder of those who venture amongst its almost impervious and unfrequented woods to worship. As I could not go myself, I dispatched the Guru to hunt for inscriptions and bring me an account of it.

Dābhi, February 20, eleven miles; thermometer 48°.—Reascended the third steppe of our miniature Alp, at the Nasera pass (ghat), the foot of which was exactly five miles from Bhainsror, and three and a half furlongs more carried us to its summit, which is of easy ascent, though the pathway was rugged, lying between high peaks on either side. This alone will give a tolerable idea of the height of the Patar above the level of the river. Majestic trees cover the hill from the base to its summit, through [659] which we could never have found a passage for the baggage without the axe. Besides some noble tamarind (imli) trees, there was the lofty semal, or cotton-tree; the gnarled sakhu, which looks like a leper amongst its healthy brethren; the tendu, or ebony-tree, now in full fruit, and the useful dhao, besides many others of less magnitude.^[14]—The landscape from the summit was grand: we looked down upon the Charmanvati (vulg. Chambal) 1700and the castle of Raghunath; while the eye commanded a long sweep of the black Bamani gliding through the vale of Antri to its termination at the tombs of the Saktawats. The road to Dabhi was very fair for such a tract, and when within four miles of our tents, we crossed a stream said to have its fountain at Menal, which must consequently be one of the highest points of Uparmal. This rill afforded another means of estimating the height of our position, for besides the general fall to the brink of the chasm, it precipitates itself in a fine cascade of three hundred feet. Neither time nor place admitted of our following this rill to its termination, about six miles distant, through a rugged woody tract. From the summit of the pass of Nasera, we had a peep at the tomb of a Muslim saint, whence the ground gradually shelved to the end of our journey at Kotah.

Monuments to Warriors.

—Dabhi is the line of demarcation between Mewar and Bundi, being itself in the latter State, in the district of Loecha,—dreary enough! It produces, however, rice and makkai, or Indian corn, and some good patches of wheat. We passed the cairns, composed of loose stones, of several Rajputs slain in defending their cattle against the Minas of the Kairar. I was particularly struck with that of a Charan bard, to whose memory they have set up a paliya, or tombstone,^[15] on which is his effigy, his lance at rest, and shield extended, who most likely fell defending his tanda. This tract was grievously oppressed by the banditti who dwell amidst the ravines of the Banas, on the western declivity of the plateau. “Who durst,” said my guide, as we stopped at these tumuli, “have passed the Patar eighteen months ago? they (the Minas) would have killed you for the cakes you had about you; now you may carry gold. These green fields would have been shared, perhaps reaped altogether, by them; but now, though there is no superfluity, there is ‘play for the teeth,’ and we can put our turban under our heads at night without the fear of missing it in the morning. Atal Raj! may your sovereignty last for ever!” This is the universal language of men who have never known peaceful days, 1701who have been nurtured amidst the elements of discord and rapine, and who, consequently, can appreciate the change, albeit they were not mere spectators. “We must retaliate,” said a sturdy [660] Chauhan, one of Morji’s vassals, who, with five besides himself, insisted on conducting me to Bhainsror, and would only leave me when I would not let them go beyond the frontier. I was much amused with the reply of one of them whom I stopped with the argumentum ad verecundiam, as he began a long harangue about five buffaloes carried off by the Thakur of Nimri, and begged my aid for their recovery. I said it was too far back; and added, laughing, “Come, Thakur, confess; did you never balance the account elsewhere?”—“Oh, Maharaja, I have lost many, and taken many, but Ramdohai! if I have touched a blade of grass since your raj, I am no Rajput.” I found he was a Hara, and complimented him on his affinity with Alu, the lord of Bumbaoda, which tickled his vanity not a little. In vain I begged them to return, after escorting me so many miles. To all my solicitations the Chauhan replied, “You have brought us comfort, and this is man ki chakari, 'service of the heart.'” I accepted it as such, and we “whiled the gait” with sketches of the times gone by. Each foot of the country was familiar to them. At one of the cairns, in the midst of the wood, they all paused for a second; it was raised over the brother of the Bhatti Thakur, and each, as he passed, added a stone to this monumental heap. I watched, to discern whether the same feeling was produced in them which the act created in me; but if it existed, it was not betrayed. They were too familiar with the reality to feel the romance of the scene; yet it was one altogether not ill-suited to the painter.

Karipur, February 21, 9½ miles.—Encamped in the glen of Karipura, confined and wild. Thermometer 51°, but a fine, clear, bracing atmosphere. Our route lay through a tremendous jungle. Half-way, crossed the ridge, the altitude of which made up for the descent to Dabhi, but from whence we again descended to Karipura. There were many hamlets in this almost impervious forest; but all were desolate, and the only trace of population was in the altars of those who had defended to the death their dreary abodes against the ruthless Mina of the Kairar, which we shall visit on our return.

Sontra.

—About a mile after we had commenced our march 1702this morning, we observed the township of Sontra on our right, which is always conjoined to Dabhi, to designate the tappa of Dabhi-Sontra, a subdivision of Loecha. Being informed by a scout that it contained inscriptions, I requested my Guru and one of my Brahmans to go there. The search afforded a new proof of the universality of the Pramar sway, and of the conquests of another “Lord of the world and the faith,” Alau-d-din, the second [661] Alexander. The Yati found several altars having inscriptions, and many paliyas, from three of which, placed in juxtaposition, he copied the following inscriptions:

“Samvat 1422 (A.D. 1366). Pardi, Teja, and his son, Deola Pardi, from the fear of shame, for the gods, Brahmans, their cattle, and their wives, sold their lives.”

“S. 1446 (A.D. 1390). In the month of Asarh (badi yakam): Monday, in the castle of Sontra (Sutrawan durg), the Pramar Uda, Kala, Bhuna, for their kine, wives, Brahmans, along with the putra Chonda, sold their existence.”

“S. 1466 (A.D. 1410), the 1st Asarh, and Monday, at Sontragram, Rugha, the Chaora, in defence of the gods, his wife, and the Brahmans, sold his life.”

“S. 1370 (A.D. 1314), the 16th of Asarh (sudi yakam), he, whose renown is unequalled, the king, the lord of men, Maharaja Adiraj, Sri Alau-d-din, with his army of three thousand elephants, ten lakhs of horse, war-chariots and foot without number, conquering from Sambhar in the north, Malwa, Karnat, Kanor, Jalor, Jaisalmer, Deogir, Tailang, even to the shores of the ocean, and Chandrapuri in the east; victorious over all the kings of the earth, and by whom Sutrawan Durg, with its twelve townships, have been wrested from the Pramar Mansi; by whose son, Bilaji, whose birthplace (utpatti) is Sri Dhar, this fountain was excavated. Written and also engraved by Sahideva the stone-cutter (sutradhar).”

Beneath the surface of the fountain was another inscription, but there was no time to bale out the water, which some future traveller over the Patar may accomplish. Sontra, or as classically written, Satrudurg, ‘the inaccessible to the foe,’ was one of the castles of the Pramar, no doubt dependent on Chitor when under the Mori dynasty; and this was only one of the subdivisions 1703of Central India, which was all under Pramar dominion, from the Nerbudda to the Jumna—an assertion proved by inscriptions and traditions. We shall hear more of this at Menal and Bijoli on our return over Uparmal, which I resolve to be thoroughly acquainted with.

Kotah, February 22, eleven miles to the banks of the Chambal.—Although not a cloud was to be seen, the sun was invisible till more than spear-high, owing to a thick vapoury mist, accompanied by a cold piercing wind from the north-west. The descent was gradual all the way to the river, but the angle may be estimated from the fact that the pinnacle (kalas) of the palace, though one hundred and twenty feet above the level of the Chambal, was not visible until within five miles of the bank. The barren [662] tract we passed over is all in Bundi, until we approach Kotah, where the lands of Nanta intervene, the personal domain of the regent Zalim Singh, and the only territory belonging to Kotah west of the Chambal. Karipura, as well as all this region, is inhabited by Bhils, of which race a very intelligent individual acted this morning as our guide. He says it is called by them Baba ka nund, and that they were the sovereigns of it until dispossessed by the Rajputs. We may credit them, for it is only fit for Bhils or their brethren of the forest, the wildbeasts. But I rejoiced at having seen it, though I have no wish to retrace my steps over this part of my journey. Half-way, we passed a roofless shed of loose stones, containing the divinity of the Bhils; it is in the midst of a grove of thorny tangled brushwood, whose boughs were here and there decorated with shreds of various coloured cloth, offerings of the traveller to the forest divinity for protection against evil spirits, by which I suppose the Bhils themselves are meant.^[16]

Maypoles.

—We must not omit (though we have quitted the Patar) to notice the ‘Maypoles’ erected at the entrance of every village in the happy basant or spring, whose concluding festival, the Holi or Saturnalia, is just over. This year the season has been most ungenial, and has produced sorrow rather than gladness. Every pole has a bundle of hay or straw tied at the top, 1704and some have a cross stick like arms and a flag flying; but in many parts of the Patar, the more symbolic plough was substituted, dedicated to the goddess of fruition, and served the double purpose of a Spring-pole, and frightening the deer from nibbling the young corn.

Kotah City.

—The appearance of Kotah is very imposing, and impresses the mind with a more lively notion of wealth and activity than most cities in India. A strong wall with bastions runs parallel to, and at no great distance from, the river, at the southern extremity of which is the palace (placed within a castle separated from the town), whose cupolas and slender minarets give to it an air of light elegance. The scene is crowded with objects animate and inanimate. Between the river and the city are masses of people plying various trades; but the eye dwells upon the terminating bastion to the north, which is a little fort of itself, and commands the country on both banks. But we shall have more to say regarding this during our halt, which is likely to be of some continuance [663].

CHAPTER 7

Unhealthiness of Kotah. Nanta, September 10, 1820.—A day of deliverance, which had been looked forward to by all of us as a new era in our existence. The last four months of our residence at Kotah was a continued struggle against cholera and deadly fever: never in the memory of man was such a season known. This is not a state of mind or body fit for recording passing events; and although the period of the last six months—from my arrival at Kotah in February last, to my leaving it this morning—has been one of the most eventful of my life, it has left fewer traces of these events upon my mind for notice in my journal than if I had been less occupied. The reader may be referred, for an abstract of these occurrences, to Chapter 6, which will make him sufficiently acquainted with the people amongst whom we have been living. To try back for the less important events which furnish the thread of the Personal Narrative, would be vain, suffering, whilst this journal is written, under fever and ague, and all my friends and servants in a similar plight. Though we more than once changed our ground of encampment, sickness 1705still followed us. We got through the hot winds tolerably until the dog-days of June; but, although I had experienced every vicissitude of temperature in every part of India, I never felt anything to be compared with the few days of June at Kotah.

It was shortly after we had shifted the camp from the low paddy-fields to the embankment of the Kishor sagar, or ‘lake,’ immediately east of the city, the sky became of that transparent blue which dazzles the eye to look at. Throughout the day and night, there was not a zephyr even to stir a leaf, but the repose and stillness of death. The thermometer was 104° in the tent, and the agitation of the punkah produced [664] only a more suffocating air, from which I have fled, with a sensation bordering on madness, to the gardens at the base of the embankment of the lake. But the shade even of the tamarind or cool plantain was still less supportable. The feathered tribe, with their beaks opened, their wings flapping or hanging listlessly down, and panting for breath, like ourselves, sought in vain a cool retreat. The horses stood with heads drooping before their untasted provender. Amidst this universal stagnation of life, the only sound which broke upon the horrid stillness, was the note of the cuckoo; it was the first time I had ever heard it in India, and its cheerful sound, together with the associations it awakened, produced a delightful relief from torments which could not long be endured. We invariably remarked that the bird opened his note at the period of greatest heat, about two o’clock in the day, and continued during intervals for about an hour, when he changed his quarters and quitted us. I afterwards became more familiar with this bird, and every day in the hot weather at Udaipur, when I resided in one of the villas in the valley, I not only heard but frequently saw it.^[1]

The reader can easily conceive the scene of our encampment; it was at the north-eastern angle of the lake, having in front that little fairy islet with its light Saracenic summer abode (p. 1521). Gardens fringed the base of the embankment, which was bordered with lofty trees; the extended and gigantic circumvallation, over 1706the parapets of which peeped the spires and domes of temples or mosques, breaking the uniformity, and occasionally even showing the distant and elevated land beyond the Chambal. We had also close to us a spot sacred to the manes of the many heroes of this noble family. I frequented the cenotaphs of the Haras, which, if less magnificent than those of Marwar or Mewar, or even of the head of their line of Bundi, may vie with them all in the recollections they conjure up of patriotism and fealty, and of the deadly rancour attendant on civil strife. This cluster of monuments approaches near to the city wall, but is immediately under the dam of the lake, and being enveloped in foliage, almost escapes observation. I was rejoiced to see the good order in which they were maintained, which was another of the anomalies in the regent’s character: for what can so much keep alive the proud spirit of the Haras as these trophies of their sires? But whatever the motive of the act, it is a tribute to virtue; nor could I resist an exclamation of respect to the veteran regent, who is raising a monument to the last prince, which, if it survive to distant times, will afford room to some future [665] traveller to say, that, with Maharao Ummed Singh, Kotah appears to have attained the summit of its power. Nor should I deny myself the praise of having something to do with this harmless piece of vanity; for I procured for the regent free permission from the Rana of Mewar to take from the marble quarry at Kankroli ^[2] whatever suited his purpose, without price or duty: a request he was too proud to make himself since their ancient quarrel. We had also the range of Madho Singh’s magnificent gardens, of many acres in extent, abounding in exotic flowers and fruits, with parterres of rose-trees, each of many roods of land. But what were all these luxuries conjoined with cholera morbus, and tap tijari, ‘tertian fever,’ and every other fever, around us? But even these physical ills were nothing compared to the moral evils which it was my duty to find remedies for or to mitigate; and they were never adverted to in the many despatches addressed, during our residence in this petit enfer, to supreme authority.

The enthusiast may imagine how delightful travelling must be amongst such interesting races; to visit the ruins of ancient greatness, and to read their history in their monuments; to march along the margin of such streams as the Chambal or the 1707Bamani; to be escorted by these gallant men, to be the object of their courtesy and friendship, and to benefit the condition of the dependant class; but the price of this enjoyment was so high that few would voluntarily pay it, namely, a perpetuity of ill-health. Fortunately, however, for ourselves and our country, if these offices are neither sinecures nor beds of roses, we do not make them beds of thorns; there is a heart-stirring excitation amidst such scenes, which keeps the powers of mind and body alert: a feeling which is fortunately more contagious than cholera, and communicable to all around. How admirably was this feeling exemplified this morning! Could my reader but have beheld the soldiers of my escort and other establishments, as they were ferried over the Chambal, he would have taken them for ghosts making the trajet of the Styx; there was not one of them who had not been in the gripe of pestilential fever or ague. Some of them had had cholera, and half of them had enlarged spleens. Yet, although their muskets were too heavy for them, there were neither splenetic looks nor peevish expressions. It was as delightful as it was wonderful to see the alacrity, even of the bedridden, to leave their ills behind them east of the Chambal.

Scarcely any place can be more unhealthy than Kotah during the monsoon. With the rise of the Chambal, whose waters filtrate through the fissures of the rock, the [666] wells are filled with mineral poison and the essence of decomposed vegetation.^[3] All those in the low ground at our first encampment were overflowed from this cause; and the surface of each was covered with an oily pellicle of metallic lustre, whose colours were prismatic, varying, with position or reflection, from shades of a pigeon’s breast (which it most resembled), to every tint of blue blending with gold. It is the same at Udaipur during the periodical rains, and with similar results, intermittent and tertian fevers, from which, as I said, not a man, European or native, escaped. They are very obstinate, and though not often fatal, are difficult to extirpate, yielding only to calomel, which perhaps generates a train of ills.

Meeting with Zālim Singh.

—The last few days of our stay 1708were passed in the ceremonials of leave-taking. On the 5th, in company with the regent, I paid my last visit to the Maharao, who with his brothers returned my farewell visit the day following; and on the 8th and 9th the same formalities were observed with the regent. The man who had passed through such scenes as the reader has perused, now at the very verge of existence, could not repress his sorrow. His orbless eyes were filled with tears, and as I pressed his palsied hands which were extended over me, the power of utterance entirely deserted him. I would expunge this, if I did not know that vanity has no share in relating what I consider to be a virtue in the regent. I have endeavoured to paint his character, and could not omit this trait. I felt he had a regard for me, from a multitude of kind expressions, but of their full value was always doubtful till this day.

A Restive Elephant.

—I did not get down to the point of embarkation for some hours after my suite, having been detained by the irresistible hold of ague and fever, though I started before the hot-fit had left me. The regent had prepared the grand barge, which soon landed me on the opposite bank; but Fateh Bahadur, my elephant, seemed to prefer his present quarters to Udaipur; after his howdah, pad, and other gear had been taken off and put into the boat, he plunged into the Chambal with delight, diving in the deepest water, and making a water-spout of his proboscis. He had got a third of the way across, when a new female elephant, less accustomed to these crossings, turned back, and Fateh Bahadur, regardless of his master, was so gallant as to go after her. In vain the mahout (driver) used his pharsi,^[4] digging it into his head behind the ear; this only exasperated the animal, and he made one or two desperate efforts to shake off his pigmy driver. Fortunately (being too weak to mount a horse), I found a baggage-elephant just beginning to be loaded: I put my howdah upon her, and the “victorious warrior” suffered the indignity of carrying a load.

We passed the town of Kanari, belonging to Raj Gulab Singh, Jhala, a relation of [667] the regent, and one of the Omras of Kotah. It is a thriving comfortable place, and the pinnacled mahall of the Raj gave to it an air of dignity as well as of the picturesque. Our route to Nanta ^[5] was over a rich and highly 1709cultivated plain, studded with mango-groves; which do not surprise us, since we know it is the family estate of the regent. The patrimonial abode is, therefore, much cherished, and is the frequent residence of his son Madho Singh, by whom I was met half-way between Kanari, and conducted to the family dwelling.

Nānta. Rājput Music.

—Nanta is a fine specimen of a Rajput baronial residence. We entered through a gateway, at the top of which was the Naubat-khana, or saloon for the band, into an extensive court having colonnaded piazzas all round, in which the vassals were ranged. In the centre of this area was a pavilion, apart from the palace, surrounded by orangeries and odoriferous flowers, with a jet-d’eau in the middle, whence little canals conducted the water and kept up a perpetual verdure. Under the arcade of this pavilion, amidst a thousand welcomes, thundering of cannon, trumpets, and all sorts of sounds, we took our seats; and scarcely had congratulations passed and the area was cleared of our escorts, when, to the sound of the tabor and sarangi, the sweet notes of a Panjabi tappa saluted our ears. There is a plaintive simplicity in this music, which denotes originality, and even without a knowledge of the language, conveys a sentiment to the most fastidious, when warbled in the impassioned manner which some of these syrens possess. While the Mahratta delights in the dissonant dhurpad,^[6] which requires a rapidity of utterance quite surprising, the Rajput reposes in his tappa, which, conjoined with his opium, creates a paradise. Here we sat, amidst the orange-groves of Nanta, the jet-d’eau throwing a mist between us and the group, whose dark tresses, antelope-eyes, and syren-notes, were all thrown away upon the Frank, for my teeth were beating time from the ague-fit.

It was in this very area, now filled with the youth and beauty of Kotah, that the regent exhibited his wrestlers; and it was from the very seat I occupied, that Sriji of Bundi challenged these ruffians to the encounter related in the annals.^[7] Having sat a quarter of an hour, in obedience to the laws of etiquette, and in 1710courtesy to the son of the Regent, who had come thus far to escort me, we took leave and hastened to get a cup of tea.

Talera,^[8] September 11.—Two miles north-west of Nanta we passed the boundary of the regent’s estate and the Bundi territory. The roads were good, over a well-cultivated and well-wooded plain, the cotton particularly thriving. Talera is a large [668] village on the margin of a fine clear stream, its banks delightfully wooded, abounding in fish, which even tempted my invalid friends to try their luck. Talera is in the jagir of the wakil who attends me on the part of the Bundi Raja, but is still a heap of ruins, and being on the high road, is open to parties of troops.

Nawagāon, September 12.—The road very fair, though a little winding, to avoid some deep ravines. The land rich, well-watered, and too much wooded; but man is wanting to cultivate the fertile waste. The encamping ground afforded not a single tree to screen us from a scorching sun. We passed two cenotaphs, where Rajputs had fallen; but there was no inscription, and no one could reveal their history.

Būndi, September 13.—The country and roads, as usual, flat, with an apparent descent from Talera to the base of the Bundi range, whose craggy and unequal summits showed it could be no buttress to the tableland with which it unites. The general direction of the range is east-north-east, though there are diverging ridges, the course of which it is impossible to delineate.

As we neared the capital of the Haras, clouds of dust, gradually obscuring the atmosphere, were the first signal of the Raja’s approach: soon the sound of drums, the clangour of trumpets, and tramping of steeds, became audible, and at length the Sandnisawars, or camel-messengers, announced the Raja’s presence. He was on horseback. Instantly I dismounted from my elephant, and although too weak to contend with the fire of my steed Javadia, it would have been an unpardonable sin against etiquette to have remained elevated above the prince. All Javadia’s ^[9] warlike propensities were awakened at the stir of this splendid retinue, from which ever and anon some dashing young Hara issued, “witching the world with noble horsemanship”; and as, in all the various evolutions of the manège, there was not a steed 1711in Rajwara could surpass mine, to my vast inconvenience and no small danger, he determined on this occasion to show them off. In one of his furious bounds, he had his fore-feet on the broken parapet of a reservoir, and as I turned him short, he threw up his head, which came in contact with mine, and made my Chabuk-sawar ^[10] exclaim, “Ali madad!” “The help of Ali!” and a few more bounds brought me in contact with my friend, the Rao Raja, when we dismounted and embraced. After going through the same ceremony with the principal chiefs, he again gave me three fraternal hugs to prove the strength of his friendship, as he said, with blunt sincerity, “This is your home, which you have come to at last.” With other affectionate welcomes, he took leave and preceded me. His retinue was striking, but not so much from tinsel [669] ornament, as from the joyous feeling which pervaded every part of it. As my friend twirled his lance in the midst of about eight hundred cavaliers and fifteen hundred foot, I thought of the deeds his ancestors had performed, when leading such a gol, to maintain their reputation for fealty. It recalled his words on the formation of the treaty, when the generosity of Britain again restored his country to independence. “What can I say, in return for the restoration of my home? My ancestors were renowned in the time of the kings, in whose service many lost their lives; and the time may come when I may evince what I feel, if my services should be required: for myself, my chiefs, are all yours!” I would pledge my existence that performance would not have lagged behind his promise. We allowed a quarter of an hour to elapse, in order to avoid the clouds of dust which a Rajput alone can breathe without inconvenience; and accompanied by my worthy and dignified old friend, the Maharaja Bikramajit, we proceeded to our tents, placed upon the bank of a tank beyond the town.

The Būndi Palace.

—The coup d'œil of the castellated palace of Bundi, from whichever side you approach it, is perhaps the most striking in India;^[11] but it would require a drawing on a much larger scale to comprehend either its picturesque beauties or its grandeur. Throughout Rajwara, which boasts many fine 1712palaces, the Bundi-ka-mahall is allowed to possess the first rank; for which it is indebted to situation, not less than to the splendid additions which it has continually received: for it is an aggregate of palaces, each having the name of its founder; and yet the whole so well harmonizes, and the character of the architecture is so uniform, that its breaks or fantasies appear only to rise from the peculiarity of the position, and serve to diversify its beauties. The Chhattar-mahall, or that built by Raja Chhattarsal, is the most extensive and most modern addition. It has two noble halls, supported by double ranges of columns of serpentine from his own native quarries, in which the vassals are ranged, and through whose ranks you must pass before you reach the state apartments; the view from which is grand. Gardens are intermingled with palaces raised on gigantic terraces. In one of these I was received by the Raja, on my visit the next day. Whoever has seen the palace of Bundi, can easily picture to himself the hanging-gardens of Semiramis. After winding up the zig-zag road, I passed by these halls, through a vista of the vassals whose contented manly looks delighted me, to the inner palace; when, having conversed on the affairs of his country for some time, the Raja led the way to one of the terraces, where I was surprised to find a grand court assembled, under the [670] shade of immense trees, trellised vines, and a fine marble reservoir of water. The chiefs and retainers, to the number of at least a hundred, were drawn up in lines, at the head of which was the throne. The prospect was fine, both for near and distant views, as it includes the lakes called the Jeth-Sagar and Prem-Sagar, with the gardens on their margins, and in the distance the city of Kotah, and both banks of the Chambal; and beyond these successive terraces and mahalls, to the summit of the hill, is seen the cupola of the Dhabhai’s tomb, through the deep foliage, rising above the battlements of Taragarh. This terrace is on a grand bastion, which commands the south-east gorge of the valley leading to the city; and yet, such is the immense mass of building, that from the town one has no idea of its size.

It were vain to attempt a description of Bundi, even were I inclined. It was the traitor of Karwar who raised the walls of Taragarh, and it was Raja Budh Singh who surrounded the city with walls, of which Ummed Singh used to say “they were not required against an equal foe, and no defence against a superior—and 1713only retarded reconquest if driven out of Bundi, whose best defence was its hills.”

Illness of Dr. Duncan, September 21.—Partly by business, partly by sickness, we were compelled to halt here a week. Our friend the doctor, who had been ailing for some time, grew gradually worse, and at length gave himself up. Carey found him destroying his papers and making his will, and came over deeply affected. I left my bed to reason with my friend, who refused all nourishment, and was sinking fast; but as much from depression of spirits as disease. In vain I used the common arguments to rouse him from his lethargy; I then tried, as the last resort, to excite his anger, and reviled him for giving way, telling him to teach by example as well as precept. By this course, I raised a tinge of blood in my poor friend’s cheek, and what was better, got a tumbler of warm jelly down his throat; and appointing the butler, Kali Khan, who was a favourite and had great influence, to keep rousing and feeding him, I left him. No sooner was he a little mended, than Carey took to his bed, and nothing could rouse him. But, as time passed, it was necessary to get on; and with litters furnished by the Raja we recommenced our journey.

Banks of the Mej River,^[12] September 26, distance ten miles.—I this day quitted my hospitable friend, the Rao Raja. As I left my tent, I found the Maharaja of Thana, with the Dablana ^[13] contingent (zabita), amounting to a hundred horse, appointed to escort me to the frontier. Our route lay through the Banda-ka-nal, ‘the valley of Banda,’ whose gorge near the capital is not above four hundred yards in breadth, but [671] gradually expands until we reach Satur, about two miles distant. On both sides of this defile are numerous gardens, and the small temples and cenotaphs which crown the heights, in many places well wooded, produce a most picturesque effect. All these cenotaphs are perfectly classical in form, being simple domes supported by slender columns; that of Suja Bai is peculiarly graceful. As we reached Satur, the valley closed our last view of the fairy palace of the Haras, rearing its domes and gilded spires half-way up the mountain, the kunguras of Taragarh encircling it as a diadem, whilst the 1714isolated hill of Miraji, at the foot of which was the old city, terminates the prospect, and makes Bundi appear as if entirely shut in by rocks. Satur is a sacred spot in the history of the Haras, and here is enshrined their tutelary divinity, fair Hope (Asapurna), who has never entirely deserted them, from the sakha of Asi, Gualkund, and Asir, to the present hour; and though the enchantress has often exchanged her attributes for those of Kalima,^[14] the faith of her votaries has survived every metamorphosis. A high antiquity is ascribed to Satur, which they assert is mentioned in the sacred books; if so, it is not in connexion with the Haras. The chief temple is dedicated to Bhavani,^[15] of whom Asapurna is an emanation. There is nothing striking in the structure, but it is hallowed by the multitude of sacrificial altars to the manes of the Haras who have “fallen in the faith of the Chhatri.” There were no inscriptions, but abundance of lazy drones of Brahmans enjoying their ease under the wide-spreading bar and pipal trees, ready, when well paid, to prepare their incantations to Bhavani, either for good or for evil: it is chiefly for the latter purpose that Satur-ki-Bhavani is celebrated. We continued our journey to Nawagaon, a tolerable village, but there being no good encamping ground, our tents were pitched a mile farther on, upon the bank of the Mej, whose turbid waters were flowing with great velocity from the accumulated mountain-rills which fall into it during the equinoctial rains.

Thāna, September 27.—This is the seat of Maharaja Sawant Singh, the eldest son of my friend Maharaja Bikramajit of Khini. He affords another instance in which the laws of adoption have given the son precedence of the father, who, while he receives homage in one capacity, must pay it in another; for young Sawant was raised from the junior to the elder branch of Thana. The castle of Sawant Singh, which guards the western frontier, is small, but of solid masonry, erected on the crest of a low hill. There are only six villages besides Thana forming his fief, which is burdened with the service of twenty-five horse. In Bundi, ‘a knight’s fee,’ or what should equip one cavalier, is two hundred and fifty rupees of rent. In the afternoon the Maharaja brought [672] his son and heir to visit me, a fine little fellow six years of 1715age, who with his sword buckled by his side and miniature shield on his back, galloped his little steed over hill and dale, like a true Rajput. I procured several inscriptions, but none above three hundred years old.

Jahāzpur,^[16] September 28.—At daybreak I again found the Maharaja at the head of his troop, ready to escort me to the frontier. In vain I urged that he had superabundantly performed all the duties of hospitality; “Such were his orders, and he must obey them.” I well know the laws of the Medes were not more peremptory than those of Bishan Singh; so we jogged on, beguiling the time in conversation regarding the semi-barbarous race of the tract I was about to enter, the Minas of Jahazpur and the Karar or fastnesses of the Banas, for ages the terror of the country, and who had studded the plains with cenotaphs of the Haras, fallen in defending their goods and chattels against their inroads. The fortress of Jahazpur was not visible until we entered the pass, and indeed had nearly cleared it, for it is erected on a hill detached from the range but on its eastern face, and completely guards this important point of ingress to Mewar. This district is termed Chaurasi, or consisting of eighty-four townships, a favourite territorial subdivision: nor is there any number intermediate between this and three hundred and sixty. Jahazpur, however, actually contains above a hundred townships, besides numerous purwas, or ‘hamlets.’ The population consists entirely of the indigenous Minas, who could turn out four thousand kamthas, or ‘bowmen,’ whose aid or enmity were not to be despised, as has been well demonstrated to Zalim Singh, who held the district during fifteen years. Throughout the whole of this extensive territory, which consists as much of land on the plains as in the hills, the Mina is the sole proprietor, nor has the Rana any property but the two tanks of Budh Lohari, and these were wrested from the Minas by Zalim Singh during his tenure.^[17]

1716I was met at the frontier by the taiyunnati^[18] of Jahazpur, headed by the old chief of Basai and his grandson Arjun, of whom we have spoken in the journey to Kotah. It was a very respectable troop of cavalry, and though their appointments were not [673] equal to my Hara escort, it was satisfactory to see assembled, merely at one post, a body which the Rana two years ago could not have collected round his own person, either for parade or defence: as a beginning, therefore, it is good. Received also the civil manager, Sobharam, the nephew of the minister, a very good man, but without the skill to manage such a tract. He was accompanied by several of the Mina Naiks, or chiefs. There is much that is interesting here, both as matter of duty and of history; we shall therefore halt for a few days, and rest our wearied invalids.

CHAPTER 8

Attempted Poisoning of the Author. Jahāzpur, October 1.—My journalizing had nearly terminated yesterday. Duncan and Carey being still confined to their beds, my relative, Captain Waugh, sat down with me to dinner; but fever and ague having destroyed all appetite on my part, I was a mere spectator. I had, however, fancied a cake of makkai flour, but had not eaten two mouthfuls before I experienced extraordinary sensations; my head seemed expanding to an enormous size, as if it alone would have filled the tent; my tongue and lips felt tight and swollen, and though I underwent no alarm, nor suffered the slightest loss of sense, I deemed it the prelude to one of those violent attacks, which have assailed me for several years past, and brought me to the verge of death. I begged Captain Waugh to leave me; but he had scarcely gone before a constriction of the throat came on, and I thought all was over. I rose up, however, and grasped [674] the 1717tent-pole, when my relative re-entered with the surgeon. I beckoned them not to disturb my thoughts, instead of which they thrust some ether and compounds down my throat, which operated with magical celerity. I vomited violently; the constriction ceased; I sunk on my pallet, and about two in the morning I awoke, bathed in perspiration, and without a remnant of disease. It was difficult to account for this result: the medical oracle fancied I had been poisoned, but I was loth to admit it. If the fact were so, the poison must have been contained in the cake, and as it would have been too great a risk to retain the person who prepared it, the baker was discharged. It was fortunate that the symptoms were such as to induce Captain Waugh to describe them so fully, and it was still more fortunate for me that the doctor was not able to go out with his fishing-rod, for the whole transaction did not last five minutes. This is about the fourth time I have been ‘upon the brink’ (kinari pahuncha) since I entered Mewar.^[1]

Khajuri, October 2.—Left my sick friends this morning to nurse each other, and having an important duty to perform at Mandalgarh, which is out of the direct route, appointed a rendezvous where I shall meet them when this work is over. I was for the first time compelled to shut myself up in my palki; incessant fever and ague for the last two months have disorganized a frame which has had to struggle with many of these attacks. We are now in what is termed the Karar, for so the tract is named on both banks of the Banas to the verge of the plateau; and my journey was through a little nation of robbers by birth and profession; but their kamthas (bows) were unstrung, and their arrows rusting in the quiver. Well may our empire in the east be called one of opinion, when a solitary individual of Britain, escorted by a few of Skinner’s Horse, may journey through the valley of Khajuri, where, three short years ago, every crag would have concealed an ambush prepared to plunder him! At present, I could by signal have collected four thousand bowmen around me, 1718to protect or to plunder; though the Minas, finding that their rights are respected, are subsiding into regular tax-paying subjects, and call out with their betters “Atal Raj!” (“May your sway be everlasting!”) We had a grand convocation of the Mina Naiks, and, in the Rana’s name, I distributed crimson turbans and scarfs; for as through our mediation the Rana had just recovered the district of Jahazpur, he charged me with its settlement. I found these Minas true children of nature, who for the first time seemed to feel they were received within the pale of society, instead of being considered as outcasts. “The heart must leap kindly back to kindness,” is a sentiment as powerfully [675] felt by the semi-barbarians of the Karar as by the more civilized habitants of other climes.

Our route was through a very narrow valley, little susceptible of cultivation, though a few patches were visible near the hamlets, scattered here and there. The scene was wild, and the cool morning air imparted vigour to my exhausted frame. The slopes of the valley in many places are covered with trees to the very summit of the mountains, on which the kukra or wild cock was crowing his matins, and we were in momentary expectation of seeing some bears, fit associates of the Minas, in their early promenades. As we approached Khajuri, the valley widened, so as to admit of its being termed a township of fifty-two thousand bighas, which afforded another proof of ancestral wisdom, for it was in sasan, or grant to the Brahmans: but the outlaws of the Karar, though they sacrifice a tithe of their plunder to ‘our Lady of the Pass’ (Ghata Rani), have little consideration for the idlers of the plains. This feeling is not confined to the Minas; for the Bhumia Rajputs, despising all the anathemas of the church, have seized on the best lands of Khajuri. But only a small portion of the Bawana (fifty-two thousand), about seventeen thousand English acres, is arable.

Kachola or Kachaura, October 3.—Execrable roads! Our route continued through the same valley, occasionally expanding to the westward. Half-way, we passed the baronial castle of Amargarh, whose chief, Rawat Dalil Singh, is now on duty with his quota at Jahazpur, but his uncle Pahar Singh, who is a great favourite with our party (by whom he is known as ‘the mountain-lion’), came to meet and conduct me to the castle. But I was too unwell, or should on many accounts have desired to visit this 1719somewhat celebrated abode of one of the Babas (infants) of Mewar, whose feud I maintained for him against his potent neighbour of Shahpura, which has elsewhere been related.^[2] It is quite unassailable, being built on an isolated rock, and, except by a circuitous path on one side, there is no passage through the dense jungle that surrounds it: a mode of fortifying recommended by Manu,^[3] but which, if universally followed in this land so studded with fortresses, would waste no small portion of the sovereignty. I was quite satisfied with this view of the castle of Dalil, and enjoyed from the point of descent a noble prospect. In the foreground is the cenotaph of Rana Arsi, in the centre of the valley, which extended and gradually opened towards Mandalgarh, whose blue ridge was distinctly visible in the distance. The hills to the right were broken abruptly into masses, and as far as the eye could stretch [676] on every side, were disordered heaps of gigantic rocks. To reclaim this district, the largest in Mewar, I am now intent, having convoked all the Bhumias and Patels of its three hundred and sixty townships at the chief city, Mandalgarh. My friend, Pahar Singh, as locum tenens of his uncle, expended powder on the occasion; and must have charged his patereroes ^[4] to the muzzle. Paharji joined me on his Panchkalyan (so they term a horse with four white legs and a white nose), and determined to escort me to Mandalgarh; a service, as he said, not only due from his family, but in accordance with the commands of his sovereign the Rana, of whom Pahar was a faithful, zealous, and valiant supporter during his adversity. The Bhumias of Mandalgarh, in fact, generally deserve the praise of having maintained this stronghold without either command or assistance throughout the whole period of his misfortunes.

Kachaura is a township rated at six thousand rupees of annual revenue in the rent-roll of Mewar, but is now an inconsiderable village. In former times, it must have been a place of importance, for all around, to a considerable distance, the ground is strewed with fragments of sculpture of a superior character, and one spot is evidently the site of the cenotaphs of the family. The town 1720had stood on the western bank of an immense lake, which through neglect is now a swamp; and, half-way up the hill, are disclosed, amidst the brushwood of the dho,^[5] the ruins of a temple: but tradition has perished with the population, who were subjected at once to the curse of constant foreign invasion and the inroads of the Minas of the Karar. Thus a soil, whose richness is apparent from the luxuriance of its meadows, is in a state of entire desolation. Kachaura forms the patta of Shahpura in this district, whose chief has to serve two masters, for he is a tributary of Ajmer for Shahpura, itself a fief of Mewar, and holds an estate of about forty thousand rupees of annual rent in Mandalgarh, which has been two years under sequestration for his refusal to attend the summons to Udaipur, and for his barbarous murder of the chief of Amargarh.^[6] This is a state of things which ought not to exist. When we freed these countries from the Mahrattas, we should have renounced the petty tributes imposed upon the surrounding chiefs not within the limits of the district of Ajmer, and the retention of which is the source of irritating discussions with these princes through the feudatories. Presuming on this external influence, the Shahpura Raja set his sovereign’s warrant at defiance, and styled himself a subject of Ajmer; nor was it until he found he was bound by a double tie of duty, that he deigned to appear at the capital. The resumption of the estate in Mandalgarh alone overcame the inertness of the chief of Shahpura; he has already too much in the Chaurasi, or eighty-four [677] townships of Shahpura, for such a subject as he is, who prefers a foreign master to his legitimate lord. I would recommend that the Rathor chiefs of Marwar, beyond the Aravalli hills, now tributary to Ajmer, and who consequently only look to that State, should be replaced under their proper head: the sacrifice is of no moment to us, and to them it will be a boon.

Damnia, October 9.—I was detained at Kachaura by a violent accession of fever and ague, as well as spleen, increased no doubt by the unhealthiness of the position amidst swamps and jungle. This is a fine healthy spot, where I should like to convene the Bhumias and ryots, to endeavour to remove the reproach of so beautiful a land remaining waste. Damnia, which is in the sequestrated patta of Shahpura, is a town of two thousand houses; a universal ruin!

1721Mānpura, 15.—After a week’s halt, reached this spot, about a mile south-west of the town, and on the bank of the Banas.^[7] The entire population of Manpura turned out to receive me; the damsels with their brazen vessels of water on their heads; but the song of the Suhaila had ceased to charm, and my ague made me too ill even to return their kindness. To-day it has abated, and to-morrow, with another respite, I will try to get through the work which brought me here. Mandalgarh is three coss from hence. I was rejoiced to see the signs of reviving prosperity about Manpura; some fine patches of sugar-cane were refreshing sights.

Māndalgarh,^[8] 16 and 17.—Proceeded up the valley and encamped within half a mile of the city, from which the governor and his cortege came to meet and welcome me; but I was too enfeebled to ascend the fort, which was a subject of regret. It is by no means formidable, and may be about four furlongs in length, with a low rampart wall, and bastions encircling the crest of the hill. The governor’s residence appears on the west side, at which spot the regent of Kotah was compelled to abandon his ladders, which they retain as a trophy. This is the festival of the Dasahra, the day sacred to Rama; but feasting is lost upon me, for this is the ninth day of abstinence from dinner. Captain Waugh rejoined me yesterday, looking very ill, and giving a poor account of my friends, especially Carey, who is sinking rapidly. He left them encamped at Baghit, the point of rendezvous in the Banas where I shall join them to-morrow. He found me on my charpai (pallet), with some threescore leeches (which I had got from Mandalgarh) on my left side,^[9] while I was attending [678] to and noting down the oral reports of the Bhumias and Patels of the district, who filled my tent, many remaining in groups outside. 1722I notwithstanding got through the work to my satisfaction, and have obtained a thorough insight into the agricultural details of this fine tract, which I may touch upon, if I am able, the first halt.

Annals of Māndalgarh.

—Mandalgarh was rebuilt by a chief of the Balnot ^[10] tribe, one of the ramifications of the Solanki or Chaulukya race, which furnished a splendid dynasty of kings to Anhilwara (Nahrwala) Patan, who ruled over the western maritime provinces of India from the tenth to the fourteenth century. They were of the great Takshak or Ophite race, which, with three other tribes, became converts to Brahmanism.^[11] The Balnot of Mandalgarh was a branch of the family which occupied Tonk-Toda on the Banas, recognized in their traditional poems as Takshak, or, in the dialect, Takatpura, ‘city of the Takshak, or snake.’^[12] Although tradition asserts that the Solanki of Toda migrated from Patan during the religious wars in the twelfth century, it is more probable that the branch fixed itself here during their progress from the north in search of settlements; for their genealogical creed assigns Lohkot, in the Panjab, as the cradle of their power.^[13] It is indeed a curious fact, amounting to demonstration of the Indo-Scythic origin of the Agnikula races, that they all lay claim to this northern origin, in spite of their entrance into the world through the medium of fire (agni): in fact, the glorious egotism of the Brahman is never more conspicuous than when he asserts the superiority of the Chauhans over the more ancient races of Surya and Soma; that “these were born of woman, but they were made by the Brahmans”: a proof of conversion which requires no comment. In spite of this fabled birth at the fountain-head, the Analkund of Abu, tradition negatives the assumed pedigree of the Brahmans, and brings them all from the north. Be this as it may, the branch 1723which fixed itself at Mandalgarh gave its name to the tract, which is still recognized by some as Balnot.

The Philosopher’s Stone.

—The first possession the founder had was Larpura, a town of great antiquity. He had in his service a Bhil, named Mandu, who, while guarding the sugar-cane from the wild hog, came upon one sound asleep. To ensure his arrow piercing the animal, he began to sharpen it upon a stone; and, to his astonishment, found it transmuted to [679] gold. He repaired to his master, who returned with Mandu, and found the stone, with the hog still asleep beside it; but no sooner had he seized upon his prize, than Baraha disappeared.^[14] With the possession of the paras-patthar, the ‘philosopher’s stone,’ he raised the walls of Mandalgarh, which was so named after the fortunate Bhil. By an act of injustice to one of his subjects, he forfeited Mandalgarh to a descendant. This subject was a Jogi, who had a mare of such extraordinary speed as to be able to run down an antelope. Whether the Balnot prince thought the sport unsuitable to an ascetic we are not told; but he forcibly took away the mare. The Jogi complained to the king, who sent a force and expelled the Balnot from Mandalgarh, and his descendants are petty Bhumias at Jawal and Kachrod, retaining, though mere peasants, the distinctive title of Rao. The numerous stories of this kind, common throughout Rajwara, accounting for the foundation of many ancient places, may merely record, in this manner, the discovery of mineral wealth; from the acquisition and the loss of which the legendary moralist has constructed his tale.

I discovered in the remains of a marble bawari, or reservoir, at Kachaura, two large tablets, containing the pedigree of the Solanki family, which will require time to decipher. Tradition, however, is busy with the name of Raja Bhim, and his son Baran of Anhilwara, from whom many tribes branched off; and although, from the first, only royal houses were founded, the other claims a greater celebrity from originating a heterogeneous breed, which descended into the third and fourth great classes, the Vaisya and Sudra. From him the Bagherwal Mahajans,^[15] who became converts to the Jain faith, claim descent, as well as the Gujars of Sont-Katoria; the Sunars, or goldsmiths, of Bonkan; the Bhil communities 1724of Oghna-Panarwa (or Mewar); and likewise those of Mau-Maidana, in Kotah. Whether from Baran and his degenerate offspring originated the name of baran-shankar, applied to the mixed classes, I am not informed.^[16] The Bagherwal is one of the “twelve and a half (sarha barah niyat) castes of Mahajans,” or mercantile tribes, subdivided into innumerable families, the greater portion of whom profess the Jain creed, and nearly all are of Rajput ancestry: an important fact in the pedigree of this considerable part of the population. The lineal descendant of the Toda Rao resides at Basai in a small village; and two other branches, who held large possessions at Todri and Jahazpur, retain the villages of Mirchiakhera and Bhatwara, both in Chitor; they have preserved the title of Rao amidst all the revolutions that have deprived them of their estates; nor would any prince of Rajwara deem himself degraded by their alliance [680]. Such is the virtue of pedigree in these regions. I should imagine that the Balnots held of the Ranas of Mewar, as Mandalgarh has been an integral portion of that State during the most flourishing period of the Anhilwara dynasty, although the inscription of Chitor savours of conquest; in which case we have at once a solution of the question, and proof that the Balnot was inducted into Mandalgarh by his superior, Kumarpal.^[17]

In S. 1755 (A.D. 1699) the tyrant Aurangzeb granted Mandalgarh to the Rathor chief of Pisangan, named Dudaji, who subdivided it into allotments for his brethren, leaving no revenue for the duties of the civil administration and repairs of the castle. To remedy this, he imposed a tax, called daotra or dasotra, or ‘tenth’ of the net value of each harvest, upon his Bhumia brethren. When the Rana succeeded in expelling the royal garrison, he found it a work of some difficulty to get rid of the Rathor feudatories; and he gave them regular pattas for their estates, subject to the payment of dasotra; but as he found it led to interference, in the inspection of crops, and to fluctuation and appeals in bad seasons, he commuted the tax for service of one horseman and one foot-soldier for each five hundred rupees of rent, and a certain small sum annually to mark their tributary condition.

1725In these times of turbulence, other impositions were laid on the Bhumias of his own kindred, the Ranawats, Kanawats, and Saktawats, who established their rights with their swords when the district was subjected to the emperor. In the same manner as with the Rathors, the Rana confirmed their acquisitions on the payment of certain fines called bhumbarar, which were either baraskar and trisala, or ‘annual’ and ‘triennial’; the first being levied from the holders of single villages, the latter from those who had more than one. Thus, Amargarh was fixed at two thousand five hundred rupees; Amaldah, fifteen hundred; Tintora, thirteen hundred; Jhunjrala, fourteen hundred, etc., triennially, having obtained their lands by main force. They also, when Mandalgarh was threatened, would repair with their vassals and defend it during ten days at their own expense, after which they received rations from the State. There were various other fines collected from the Bhumia vassalage, such as lauasma, or for the support of the Nakkarchis (kettle-drummers), the mace, standard, and even the torch-bearers attached to each garrison. There was also khar-lakar, for wood and forage, which has been elsewhere explained; hal-barar, or ‘plough-tax,’ and ghasmali, or ‘pasturage,’ the rates of which are graduated, and vary [681] in amount with the power of enforcing their collections. But owing to these circumstances, the best land in Mandalgarh belongs to the Bhumia chieftains.

It was about this time, in the reign of Jagat Singh II., that Ummeda Singh of Shahpura had the grant of seventy-three villages in Mandalgarh, one-fifth of the whole district, subject only to the fine of three thousand two hundred and fifty rupees annually for ghasmali, with five hundred more to the deputy governor, and two hundred to the Chaudhari, or territorial head of the district. In this lavish manner were estates disposed of. This family continued to hold it until S. 1843, when the minister Somji, in order to obtain his support during the Chondawat rebellion, gave him a formal acquittance for this service, and in addition to these lands, the two subordinate fiefs of Dangarmau and Borwa on the Plateau, and the rich estate of Agoncha on the Khari; in return for which, he exacted a stipulation to serve with four hundred horse: a contract fulfilled only by one chief of the family, who fell leading his contingent at the battle of Ujjain. His descendants seem to have claimed immunity on the 1726score of his service; and the present incumbent is a madman. Great changes, however, have recently been made in the condition of the Bhumias, and these desultory fines have all merged into a duty more accordant with the character of the Rajput; service in the garrisons of Mandalgarh and Jahazpur, and a fixed annual sum from those who are too poor to command even a single horse.

Baghīt,^[18] 18th; eight miles.—A large village on the west of our own stream, the Berach, coming from the Udaisagar. Our road lay over a rich soil, as usual overgrown with grass. Here I rejoined my sick friends, all very ill; the doctor better, but Carey in a very precarious condition.

Birslabās, 19th.—The route over the most fertile plains of Mewar; but one continuous mass of jungle and rank grass. The Maharaja came out to meet me, a courteous, polished Rajput. He is of the Ranawat clan, descended from Rana Amra Singh, and the elder branch of the Shahpura family. Both his father and grandfather fell defending the cause of Shah Jahan against the usurper Aurangzeb, which lost him his birthright; but he has five villages left attached to Birslabas. Encamped near the altars of his heroic ancestors.

Amba, 21st; six and a half miles.—The route over a scene of desolation; fine fields, fruitful of grass and ruins. Sent one of my Brahmans to the town of Akola, two coss distant, and had several inscriptions copied; they were all immunities or grants of privileges to the printers of that town, thence called Chhipi-ka-Akola, to distinguish [682] it from another of the same name. I halted at Birslabas, received several visits, and held interesting conversations with the Maharaja; but fever and ague leave the mind in a sorry state. I can pay no attention to barometer or perambulator; of the latter Babu Mahesh keeps a diary, and on his intelligence I can depend.

Hamīrgarh,^[19] 22nd.—This town belongs to Biramdeo, Ranawat, the son of Dhiraj Singh, who was the chief adviser of the Salumbar princes in the rebellion of S. 1843, during which he obtained it. The present chief is an oaf, always intoxicated; and as he did not discharge the Baoris, or professional thieves in his service, on the return of these days of peace, he was deprived of two towns 1727amounting to seven thousand rupees annual rent. He ought, indeed, by the treaty of A.D. 1818, to have lost Hamirgarh, but he contrived by various indirect means to elude it, and to retain this, one of the most thriving places in Mewar. It contains about eight hundred inhabited houses, tenanted chiefly by manufacturers of chintz and dopattas, or ‘scarfs,’ such as are worn by all the Rajputnis. It has a fine lake, filled with a variety of wild duck, which live unmolested amidst the singhara^[20] and lotus. The more ancient name of this place is Bakrol, as I found by two inscriptions, which again furnish specimens of sumptuary legislation.

Siyāna,^[21] 23rd; eight miles and three furlongs.—We are now in the very heart of Mewar, plains extending as far as the eye can reach. Traces of incipient prosperity are visible, but it will require years to repair the mischief of the last quarter of a century. Passed through Ujhana, Amli, Neuria—all surrendered in consequence of the treaty of 1818: the last-mentioned, together with Siyana, from the ‘Red Riever,’ as we have nicknamed the chieftain of Badesar. The prospect from this ground is superb: the Udaipur hills in the distance; those of Pur and Gurla,^[22] with their cupolas, on our right; the fantastic peak of Barak rising insulated from the plain. We are now approaching a place of rest, which we all much require; though I fear Carey’s will be one of perpetuity. Saw a beautiful mirage (si-kot) this morning, the certain harbinger of the cold season. The ridge of Pur underwent a thousand transformations, and the pinnacle of Barak was crowned with a multitude of spires. There is not a more delightful relaxation than to watch the changes of these evanescent objects, emblems of our own ephemeral condition. This was the first really cold morning. The Panchayat, or elders of Pur, with several of the most respectable inhabitants to the number of fifty, came all this way to see me, and testify their happiness and gratitude! Is there another nook in the earth where such a principle is professed, much [683] less acted on? Hear their spokesman’s reply to my question, “Why did they take the trouble to come so far from home?” I give it verbatim: “Our town had not two hundred inhabited dwellings when you came 1728amongst us: now there are twelve hundred: the Rana is our sovereign, but you are to us next to Parameswar (the Almighty); our fields are thriving, trade is reviving, and we have not been molested even for the wedding-portion.^[23] We are happy, and we have come to tell you so; and what is five coss, or five hundred, to what you have done for us?” All very true, my friends, if you think so. After a little wholesome advice to keep party feuds from the good town of Pur, they took leave, to return their ten miles on foot.

Since the town council left me, I have been kept until half-past seven by the Baba of Mangrop, and the Thakur of Rawarda, whose son I redeemed from captivity in the fortress of Ajmer. Worn out; but what is to be done? It is impossible to deny one’s self to chiefs who have also come miles from the best motives. Now for coffee and the charpai.

Rāsmi,^[24] October 23.—The direct or usual route is thirteen and a half miles, but as I made a circuit by Marauli, it was fifteen. Had I taken the common route, I should have followed the Banas the whole way; as it was, for the last half I skirted its low banks, its limpid stream flowing gently to the north-east. Found the cultivation considerably increased compared with last year; but it is still a desert, overgrown with grass and brushwood, in which these little cultivated oases are “few and far between.” Marauli was thriving in the midst of ruin, with fifty-seven ploughs at work; there were but twelve when I entered Mewar. Rasmi has also seventy families instead of the twenty I found; and in a few years I hope to see them greatly increased. We had some delicious trout from the Banas, some of them equal to what we caught last year at Pahona, the largest of which weighed seventy-three rupees, or about two pounds, and near seventeen inches long by nine in girth. My friend Tom David Steuart was more successful than we were in getting them to rise at the fly; in revenge we took them, unsportsmanlike, in a net. This appears to be the season for eating them.

Rasmi is a place of considerable interest, and tradition is at work to establish its antiquity, connecting it with the name of 1729Raja Chand; but whether the Pramar of [684] Chandravati, or the Chauhan of Abhaner, I cannot learn. There were vestiges of past days; but even in these regions, where to a certain extent they respect antiquity, I find the ruined temples are despoiled, and appropriated to modern fabrics. Amongst the groves of Rasmi I found some fragments of patriarchal legislation, prohibiting “the ladies from carrying away under their ghaghra (petticoats) any portion of the sadh, or village-feast!” I also discovered a tablet raised by the collective inhabitants of Rasmi, which well illustrates the truth, that they had always some resort against oppression. It runs as follows: “Written by the merchants, bankers, printers, and assembled panchayat of Rasmi: Whereas the collector of town-duties oppressed the merchant by name Pakar, and exacted exorbitant duties on grain and reza (unbleached cloth), for which he abandoned the place; but the government-officer having forsworn all such conduct for the future, and prevailed on him to return, and having taken the god to witness—we, the assembled panch, have set up this stone to record it. Asarh the 3rd, S. 1819.”

Fourteen years have elapsed since I first put my foot in Mewar, as a subaltern of the Resident’s ^[25] escort, when it passed through Rasmi. Since that period, my whole thoughts have been occupied with her history and that of her neighbours.

Jāsma,^[26] 24th; distance fourteen miles, but not above twelve direct.—This in past times was a township of celebrity, and in the heart of the finest soil in India, with water at hand; but it had not a single habitation when we entered the country; now, it has eighty families. Our way for fourteen miles was through one wide waste of untrodden plain; the Banas continued our companion half-way, when she departed for Galund to our right. Saw many inscriptions, of which we shall give an account hereafter. Passed the copper-mines of Dariba;^[27] but they are filled with water, and the miners are all dead.

Sanwār,^[28] 25th; distance twelve and a half miles by the direct 1730route through Lonera; but I made a circuit to visit the celebrated field of battle between Rawal Samarsi, of Chitor, and Bhola Bhim, of Anhilwara Patan, recorded by the bard Chand in his Raesa. This magnificent plain, like all the rest of this once garden of Mewar, is overgrown with the kesula or palas, and lofty rank grass; and the sole circumstance by which it is known is the site. The bard describes the battle as having occurred in Khet-Karera, or field of Karera, and that the Solanki, on his defeat, retreated across the river, meaning the Berach, which is a few miles to the south. A little way [685] from hence is the Sangam, or point of junction of the Berach and Banas, which, with a third small stream, forms a triveni; at their point of confluence there is an altar to Mahadeo.

Karera.

—At Karera there is a temple of some celebrity, dedicated to the twenty-third of the Jain apostles, Parsvanath. I found several inscriptions recording its foundation in S. 11 ..., and several from 1300 to 1350. We must supply the figures wanting in the first. The priests are poor and ignorant; but they are transcribing its history, and such as it is it shall be given. The temple is imposing, and though evidently erected in the decline of the arts, may be considered a good specimen for the twelfth century. It consists of two domes, supported by numerous massive columns of a species of porphyry, of close texture, excessively hard, and taking a fine polish. The capitals of the columns are filled with Jain figures of their pontiffs. The domes are of nearly equal diameters, about thirty feet each, and about forty in height; under the further one is the sanctum of Parsva, and the other within the votaries. There is a splendid colonnaded vestibule at the entrance, richly sculptured, which gives a very grand appearance to the whole edifice; but it stands in the midst of desolation. Even thirty years ago, these plains were covered with crops of juar, in which an elephant would have been lost; now there is scarcely the trace of a footpath, and with some difficulty did I make way in my palki (for I am unable to mount my horse) through the high grass which completely overtopped it, and the babul trees, the thorns of which annoyed us. Karera, which formerly contained six hundred houses, has now only sixty; and more than half of these have been built since we came amongst them. The damsels of Karera came out to welcome me with the ‘song of joy,’ and bringing water. The 1731distance is seven miles from Rasmi to Karera, and nine thence to Sanwar. The latter belongs to one of the infants (Babas) of Mewar, the Maharaja Daulat Singh, now kilahdar or commandant of Kumbhalmer. This chief town of the estate of my friend the Maharaja is but small, and in no flourishing condition. There is a small fort, in which he contrived to maintain himself against the savage bands who long prowled over the country. Transcribed an inscription, and found it to be the abolition of a monopoly of tobacco, dated S. 1826.

Mauli, 26th; seven and a half miles.—As usual, all was barren between Sanwar and Mauli; though at each are the traces of reviving industry. This was formerly a considerable town, and rated in the books at seven thousand rupees annual rent; but now it yields not seven hundred. Its population consists of about eighty families of all classes [686], half of which have been recalled from their long exile in Malwa and Khandesh, and have already given a new aspect to Mauli in its sugar-canes. Her highness’s steward, however, is not one of the faithful. There is a very fine bawari, or reservoir, of coarse marble, constructed by Baiji Raj, ‘the royal mother,’ of the present Rana and his sister, in whose appanage it is. An inscription, dated S. 1737, recorded an ordinance in favour of the Jains, that “the oil-mill of Mauli should not work on the four rainy months”; in order to lessen the destruction of animal life.^[29]

Heights of Tus and Merta, 27th; fourteen miles and a half.—At length there is an end to our disastrous journey; and from this ground I stir not again, till I start for Samudra (the sea), to embark for the land of my sires. Our route, as usual, over desolate fields, doubly striking as we passed the hunting-seats of Nahramagra, or ‘tiger mount.’ Bajraj, the royal steed, who seemed instinctively to know he was at the end of his journey, was unwilling to quit the path and his companions, when I urged him to pick his way amidst the ruined palace of the Ranas, where, without metaphor, “the owl stands sentinel”; and which was 1732crumbling into and choking up the Bamani, whose monotonous murmur over these impediments increased the melancholy sensations which arose on beholding such a scene. Every year is aiding its rapid decay, and vegetation, fixing itself everywhere, rends its walls asunder. The range of stabling for thirty horses, all of stone, even to the mangers, is one extensive ruin. It was on this spot, according to the chronicles, that the sage Harit bestowed the enchanted blade upon the great sire of the Sesodias, eleven centuries ago; but they have run their career, and the problem remains to be solved, whether they have to commence a new course, or proceed in the same ratio of decay as the palace of the tiger-mount. The walls around this royal preserve no longer serve to keep the game from prowling where they please. A noble boar crossed our path, but had no pursuers; “our blood was cold”; we wanted rest. As we approached our old ground, my neighbours of Merta and villages adjacent poured out to welcome our return, preceded by the Dholi of Tus and his huge kettle-drum, and the fair, bearing their lotas, or brazen vessels with water, chanted the usual strain of welcome. I dropped a piece of silver into each as I passed, and hastened to rest my wearied limbs.

Poor Carey will never march again! Life is almost extinct, and all of us are but the ghosts of what we were [687].

CHAPTER 9

Udaipur, July 1821.—When I concluded the narrative of my journey in October last year, I had no expectation that I should ever put my foot in the stirrup again, except en route to Bombay, in order to embark for Old England; but “honhar!”^[1] as my Rajput friends exclaim, with a sigh, when an invincible destiny opposes their intentions. I had only awaited the termination of the monsoon to remove the wreck of a once robust frame to a more genial clime; and now, it will remain to be proved whether my worthy friend Duncan’s prophecy—“You must die, if you stay here six months more”—will be fulfilled. Poor Carey lies entombed on the heights of Merta; the doctor himself is just 1733going off to the Cape, half-dead from the Kotah fever; and, as if that were not enough, the naharua, or guinea-worm, has blanched his cheek and made him a cripple. My cousin, Captain Waugh, is at Kotah, depressed by a continuance of the same malaria, and in a few days I again start solus, in the midst of the monsoon, for Haraoti.

Death of the Rāo Rāja of Būndi.

—A few days ago I received an express from Bundi, announcing the sudden death of my estimable friend, the Rao Raja, who in his last moments nominated me guardian of his infant son, and charged me to watch over his welfare and that of Bundi. The more formal letter of the minister was accompanied by one from the Rani, mother of the young prince, from whom also, or in his name, I had a few lines, both seconding the bequest of the dying prince, and reminding me of the dangers of a minority, and the elements by which they were surrounded. The appeal was irresistible, and the equipage was ordered out for immediate departure to Merta, and thence to Mauli, twenty-five miles distant, where I should join them.

Cholera.

—The Raja fell a victim to Mari, the emphatic appellation of cholera, which has now been wasting these regions since 1817. They might well say that, if at this important [688] period in their history we destroyed the demon of rapine which had so long preyed upon their repose, we had in lieu of it introduced death amongst them, for such is the interpretation of Mari.^[2] It was in our armies that this disease first appeared in northern India; and although for some time we flattered ourselves that it was only the intemperate, the ill-fed, or ill-clothed, that fell victims to it, we soon discovered that Mari was no respecter of persons, and that the prince and the peasant, the European and the native, the robust and the weak, the well-fed and the abstinent, were alike subject to her influence. I can number four intimate friends, my brother officers, who were snatched away in the very prime of life by this disease; and in the States under my political control, it assailed in two instances, the palace: the Udaipur prince recovered, but the Bundi Rao’s time was come. He conducted himself most heroically, and in the midst of the most dreadful torture with which the human frame can be afflicted, he never lost his self-possession, but in every interval of suffering, conversed upon the affairs of his little dominion, giving the fullest 1734instructions for the future with composure. He particularly desired that none of his wives should mount the pyre with his corpse; and that as soon as he ceased to breathe, I should be invited to Bundi; for that “he left Lalji (an endearing epithet to children) in my lap.” It was only during our last journey through Bundi that I was amused with my friend’s expedient to keep “death” out of his capital, and which I omitted to mention, as likewise the old regent’s mode of getting rid of this unwelcome visitor in Kotah; nor should they be separated. Having assembled the Brahmans, astrologers, and those versed in incantations, a grand rite was got up, sacrifice made, and a solemn decree of desvata, or banishment, was pronounced against Mari. Accordingly an equipage was prepared for her, decorated with funeral emblems, painted black and drawn by a double team of black oxen; bags of grain, also black, were put into the vehicle, that the lady might not go forth without food, and driven by a man in sable vestments, followed by the yells of the populace. Mari was deported across the Chambal, with the commands of the priests that she should never set foot again in Kotah.^[3] No sooner did my deceased friend hear of her expulsion from that capital, and being placed en chemin for Bundi, than the wise men of this city were called on to provide means to keep her from entering therein. Accordingly, all the water of the Ganges at hand was in requisition, an earthen vessel was placed over the southern portal, from which the sacred water was continually dripping, and [689] against which no evil could prevail. Whether my friend’s supply of the holy water failed, or Mari disregarded such opposition, she reached his palace.^[4]

1735Pauna, or Pahona, July 25.—Yesterday was a day of disaster: I left the capital amidst torrents of rain, and between Merta and Mauli found my best elephant lying dead; the long and sudden march, and too heavy a load, had destroyed the fine animal. It was rather ominous to lose the emblem of wisdom in the outset of this journey. We passed a most uncomfortable day, and still more uncomfortable night, for a strong gale forced up the tent-pins from the clay soil, and brought down the tent over my ears. I had an escape from the pole, part of which I propped under the fly to keep me from suffocation. Around me were nothing but yells of distress, half laughable, half serious; horses loose, and camels roaring in discordant gutturals. We were glad long before dawn to pack up our chattels, thoroughly soaked, and consequently double weight, and begin moving for Pahona, where we are promised a little repose. I have taken this route as it is the last occasion I shall have to visit the work of my own hands, the mart of Bhilwara. Pahona is or was a place of some value; but the Brahmans, through the influence of the Rana’s sister, had got it by means of a forged grant, and abided by the 1736privileges of their order. But fortunately they abused the right of sanctuary, in giving protection to a thief and assassin from interested motives; consequently, the penalty of resumption was incurred, and we hope to suffer no other ill-effects than Chand Bai’s displeasure.

Bhīlwāra, July 26.—Varuna, the Jupiter pluvialis of the Hindu, has been most complaisant, and for two days has stopped up all the “bottles of heaven,” and I [690] made my triumphal entry into our good town of Bhilwara, on one of those days which are peculiarly splendid in the monsoon, when the sun deigns to emerge from behind the clouds.

My reception was quite Asiatic; the entire population, headed by the chief merchants, and preceded by the damsels with the kalas, advanced full a mile to meet and conduct me to a town which, a few years ago, had not one inhabited dwelling. I passed through the main street, surrounded by its wealthy occupants, who had suspended over the projecting awnings the most costly silks, brocades, and other finery, to do honour to one whom they esteemed their benefactor, and having conducted me to my tent, left me to breakfast, and returned in the afternoon. As the tent would not contain a tenth of the visitors, I had its walls removed, and all were welcome to enter who could. Every moment I expected to see it fall upon us, as there were hundreds of hands at each rope, swaying it in every direction, in their eagerness to see what was going on within between the Sahib and the Panchayat of both sects, Oswal and Mahesri, or Jain and Vaishnava. We talked over many plans for the future benefit of the town; of further reducing the duties, and giving additional freedom to the transit-trade. I offered, in the Rana’s name, to expend the next two years’ income on a circumvallation for the protection of the town; which, for many good reasons, they refused; and principally, that it would be a check on that very freedom it was my desire they should enjoy, as it would prevent uninterrupted ingress and egress. I, however, sent for the chiefs, to whom, with their quotas, was confided the duty of guarding this town, and before the assembled groups explained the necessity of preventing any complaints from want of due vigilance, and told them they were to be in lieu of walls to Bhilwara. My good friends having no inclination to retire, I sent for the presents I intended for the heads of the sectarian merchants, with the 1737itr-pan (that most convenient mode of hinting to a friend that you are tired of him), and they departed with a thousand blessings, and prayers for the perpetuity of our raj.

Bhilwara is perhaps the most conspicuous instance in all India of the change which our predominant influence has effected in four short years; and to many it must appear almost miraculous that, within that period, a great commercial mart should be established, and three thousand houses, twelve hundred of which are those of merchants or artisans, be made habitable, the principal street being entirely rebuilt; that goods of all countries should be found there; bills of exchange to any amount, and on any city in India, obtained, and that all should be systematically organized, as if it had been [691] the silent growth of ages. To me it afforded another convincing proof, in addition to the many I have had, of the tenacity and indestructibility of the institutions in these regions, and that very little skill is requisite to evoke order and prosperity out of confusion and distress. I have no hesitation in saying that, were it not now time to withdraw from interference in the internal concerns of Mewar, the machine of government having been once more put into action, with proper management this place might become the chief mart of Rajputana, and ten thousand houses would soon find inhabitants: such are its local capabilities as an entrepôt. But while I indulge this belief, I should at the same time fear that the rigid impartiality, which has prevented the quarrels of the sectarian traders from affecting the general weal, would be lost sight of in the apathy and intrigue which are by no means banished from the councils of the capital.^[5]

I bade a last farewell to Bhilwara and its inhabitants, with prayers for the welfare of both.

Bhīlwāra, 28.—Though pressed for time, and the weather had again become bad, I could not resist the kind entreaties of the people of Bhilwara that I would halt one more day amongst them; and albeit neither my health nor occupations admitted of my being the lion to the good traders of the city without inconvenience, the slight personal sacrifice was amply repaid by the more intimate 1738acquaintance I gained with men belonging to every region of Rajwara.

Jahāzpur, 29.—This was a long march in a torrent of rain, the country flooded, and roads cut up; and although I have not incommoded myself with much baggage, the little I have is in a wretched plight. The crockery-bearer fell with his load, and smashed the contents. Passed over the encamping ground of last year, and bestowed a transient thought upon the scene enacted there. I was equally near ‘the brink’ this spring. The Rana had stopped the nakkara, and many a rupee’s-worth of kesar (saffron) was promised to the divinities both of the Jains and Vaishnavas for my recovery. My kinsman, Captain Waugh, was admitted, after many days’ exclusion, to take a last adieu; but I told the doctor I was sure he was wrong; and here I am, bound for the same scenes of misery from which I so lately escaped, and under which several of my establishment, besides poor Carey, have succumbed.

Būndi, 30.—Another fatiguing march brought us to the conclusion of our journey; and notwithstanding a deluge of rain, we were met three miles from the city by the minister and the principal chiefs, with whom an interchange of baghal-giri [692] (embracing) took place in spite of the raging elements. All preceded to announce our approach, but my faithful old friend, the Maharaja Bikramajit, whose plain and downright honesty in all that appertains to his master’s house has won my warmest regard. He rode by my side, and told me of the changes that had taken place, of the dangers of the young Ram Singh from the interested views of those who affected the semblance of devotion; “but,” observed the veteran, “you know us all, and will trust no individual with too much authority.” He could speak thus without fear of being misunderstood, for no persuasion would have induced him to enter into their cabals, or compromise his trust of watching over the personal safety of his infant prince; though without any ostensible post or character save that proud title—which was ascribed to him by all parties—‘the loyal Bikramajit.’

The beauties of the scenery passed unheeded, and have already been sufficiently described, though there is novelty in every point of view from which the fairy palace is seen; and as it burst upon us this morning, a momentary gleam, passing over its gilded 1739pinnacles, displayed its varied outline, which as rapidly immerged into the gloom that hung over it, according well with the character of its inmates. As it was my policy to demonstrate, by the rapidity of my movements (which had brought me in six days at such a season from Udaipur to Bundi), how much the British Government had at heart the welfare of its young prince, I hastened to the palace in my travelling costume to pay my respects, wishing to get over the formal visit of condolence on the loss the prince had sustained.

I found the young chief and his brother, Gopal Singh, surrounded by a most respectable court, though, as I passed along the line of retainers occupying each side of the long colonnaded Barah-dari,^[6] I could perceive looks of deep anxiety and expectation blended with those of welcome. Notwithstanding the forms of mourning must destroy much of the sympathy with grief, there is something in the settled composure of feature of an assembly like this, convened to receive the condolence of a stranger who felt for the loss in which he was called to sympathize, that fixes the mind. Although I was familiar with the rite of matam, which, since the days of “David, who sent to comfort Hanun, son of the king of the children of Ammon, when his father died,” is generally one of ‘the mockeries of woe,’ its ordinary character was changed on this occasion, when we met to deplore the loss of the chief of all the Haras.

I expressed the feelings which the late event had excited in me, in which, I observed, the most noble the governor-General would participate; adding that it was a consolation [693] to find so much promise in his successor, during whose minority his lordship would be in the place of a father to him in all that concerned his welfare; and that in thus speedily fulfilling the obligations of public duty and friendship to the will of his deceased parent, I but evinced the deep interest my government had in the rising prosperity of Bundi; that, thank God, the time was past when a minority could endanger his welfare, as it would only redouble the anxiety and vigilance of my government; with much more to the same purport, which it is unnecessary to repeat. The young prince replied with great propriety of manner and speech, concluding thus: “My father left me in your lap; he confided my well-being to your hands.” After a few remarks to the chiefs, 1740I repaired to the residence prepared for me at no great distance from the palace. Here I found all my wants supplied and my comforts most carefully studied; and scarcely had I changed my garments, when a sumptuous dinner was announced, sent by the queen-mother, who in order to do more honour had ordered a Brahman to precede it, sprinkling the road with holy-water to prevent the approach of evil!

4. I have in other parts of my work touched upon this terrific scourge, from which it will be seen that it is well known throughout India under the same appellation; and it is not one of the least curious results of my endeavour to prove that the Hindus had historical documents, that by their means I am enabled to trace this disease ravaging India nearly two centuries ago. At Vol. II. p. 1022 it is thus described in the Annals of Marwar: “This, the sakha (putting a garrison to the sword) of Sojat, was when S. 1737 ended, and S. 1738, or A.D. 1681-2, commenced, when the sword and Mari (pestilence) united to clear the land.” Orme, in his Fragments [ed. 1782, p. 200], mentions a similar disease in A.D. 1684, raging in the peninsula of India, and sweeping off five hundred daily in the imperial camp at Goa; and again, in the Annals of Mewār, Vol. I. p. 454, it is described in the most frightful colours, as ravaging that country twenty years before, or in S. 1717 (A.D. 1661); so that in the space of twenty years, we have it described in the peninsula, in the desert of India, and in the plains of Central India; and what will appear not the least singular part of the history of this distemper, so analogous to the present date, about the intermediate time of these extreme periods, that is about A.D. 1669, a similar disease was raging in England. I have no doubt that other traces of the disorder may appear in the chronicles of their bards, or in Muhammadan writers, judging from these incidental notices, which might never have attracted attention had not Mari come to our own doors. I have had many patients dying about me, but no man ever dreamed of contagion; to propagate which opinion, and scare us from all the sympathies of life, without proof absolutely demonstrative, is, to say the least, highly censurable. There is enough of self in this land of ultra civilisation, without drawing a cordon sanitaire round every individual. The Udaipur prince was the first person seized with the disease in that capital: a proof to me, against all the faculty, that to other causes than personal communication its influence must be ascribed. I will not repeat the treatment in this case (see p. 1002), which may deserve notice, though prescribed by the uninitiated.

CHAPTER 10

Inauguration of the Rāo Rāja, August the 5th.—The ceremony of Rajtilak, or inauguration of the young Rao Raja, had been postponed as soon as the Rani-mother heard of my intention to come to Bundi, and as the joyous ‘third of Sawan,’ Sawan-ki-tij, was at hand, it was fixed for the day following that festival. As the interval between the display of grief and the expression of joy is short in these States, it would have been inauspicious to mingle aught of gloom with the most celebrated of all the festivals of the Haras, in which the whole city partakes. The queen-mother sent a message to request that I would accompany her son in the procession of the Tij, with which invitation I most [694] willingly complied; and she also informed me that it was the custom of Rajwara, for the nearest of kin, or some neighbouring prince, on such occasions, to entreat the mourner, at the termination of the twelve days of matam, to dispense with its emblems. Accordingly, I prepared a coloured dress, with a turban and a jewelled sarpesh,^[1] which I sent, with a request that the prince would “put aside the white turban.” In compliance with this, he appeared in these vestments in public, and I accompanied him to the ancient palace in old Bundi, where all public festivities are still held.

The young prince of the Haras is named Ram Singh, after one of the invincibles of this race, who sealed his loyalty with his life on the field of Dholpur. He is now in his eleventh year, fair, and with a lively, intelligent cast of face, and a sedateness of demeanour which, at his age, is only to be seen in the East. Gopal Singh, his brother, by a different mother, is a few months 1741younger, very intelligent, and in person slight, fair, and somewhat marked with the smallpox. There is a third boy, about four, who, although illegitimate, was brought up with equal regard, but now he will have no consideration.

The cavalcade was numerous and imposing; the chiefs and their retainers well mounted, their equipments all new for the occasion, and the inhabitants in their best apparel, created a spectacle which was quite exhilarating, and which Bundi had not witnessed for a century: indeed, I should hardly have supposed it possible that four years could have produced such a change in the general appearance or numbers of the population. After remaining a few minutes, I took leave, that I might impose no restraint on the mirth which the day produces.^[2]

The next day was appointed for the installation. Captain Waugh, who had been sent from Udaipur to Kotah in December last, when the troubles of that State broke out afresh, joined me this day in order to be present at the ceremony, though he was in wretched health from the peculiar insalubrity of Kotah at this time of the year. We proceeded to the Rajmahall, where all the sons of Dewa-Banga ^[3] have been anointed. Every avenue through which we passed was crowded with well-dressed people, who gave us hearty cheers of congratulation as we went along, and seemed to participate in the feeling evinced towards their young prince by the representative of the protecting power. The courts below and around the palace were in like manner filled with the Hara retainers, who rent the air with Jai! Jai! as we dismounted. There was a very full assemblage within, where the young Raja was undergoing purification [695] by the priests; but we found his brother the Maharaja Gopal Singh, Balwant Singh of Gotra, the first noble of Bundi, the chiefs of Kapraun and Thana, old Bikramajit, and likewise the venerable chief of Dugari (son of Sriji), grand-uncle of the young prince, who had witnessed all the revolutions which the country had undergone, and could appreciate the existing repose. It was gratifying to hear this ancient, who could remember both periods of prosperity, thank Parameswar that he had lived to see the restoration of his country’s independence. In this manner we had some 1742interesting conversation, while sacrifice and purification were going on in the adjoining apartment. When this was over, I was instructed to bring the young Raja forth and lead him to a temporary ‘cushion of state,’ when a new round of religious ceremonies took place, terminating with his re-election of the family Purohit and Byas,^[4] by marking their foreheads with the tilak: which ordination entitled them to put the unction upon the prince’s, denoting the ‘divine right’ by which he was in future to rule the Haras. The young prince went through a multitude of propitiatory rites with singular accuracy and self-possession; and when they were over, the assembly rose. I was then requested to conduct him to the gaddi, placed in an elevated balcony overlooking the external court and a great part of the town; and it being too high for the young prince to reach, I raised him to it. The officiating priest now brought the vessel containing the unction, composed of sandalwood powder and aromatic oils, into which I dipped the middle finger of my right hand, and made the tilak on his forehead. I then girt him with the sword, and congratulated him in the name of my Government, declaring aloud, that all might hear, that the British Government would never cease to feel a deep interest in all that concerned the welfare of Bundi and the young prince’s family. Shouts of approbation burst from the immense crowds who thronged the palace, all in their gayest attire, while every valley re-echoed the sound of the cannon from the citadel of Taragarh. I then put on the jewels, consisting of sarpesh, or aigrette, which I bound round his turban, a necklace of pearls, and bracelets, with twenty-one shields (the tray of a Rajput) of shawls, brocades, and fine clothes. An elephant and two handsome horses, richly caparisoned, the one having silver, the other silver-gilt ornaments, with embroidered velvet saddle-cloths, were then led into the centre of the court under the balcony, a khilat befitting the dignity both of the giver and the receiver. Having gone through this form, in which I was prompted by my old friend the Maharaja Bikramajit, and paid my individual congratulations as the friend of his father and his personal guardian, I withdrew to make room for the [696] chiefs, heads of clans, to perform the like round of 1743ceremonies: for in making the tilak, they at the same time acknowledge his accession and their own homage and fealty. I was joined by Gopal Singh, the prince’s brother, who artlessly told me that he had no protector but myself; and the chiefs, as they returned from the ceremony, came and congratulated me on the part I had taken in a rite which so nearly touched them all; individually presenting their nazars to me as the representative of the paramount power. I then made my salutation to the prince and the assembly of the Haras, and returned. The Rao Raja afterwards proceeded with his cavalcade to all the shrines in this city, and Satur, to make his offerings.

The next day I received a message from the queen-mother with her blessing (asis), intimating her surprise that I had yet sent no special deputation to her, to comfort her under her affliction, and to give a pledge for her own and her child’s protection; and that although on this point she could feel no distrust, a direct communication would be satisfactory. In reply, I urged that it was from delicacy alone I had erred, and that I only awaited the intimation that it would be agreeable, though she would see the embarrassment attending such a step, more especially as I never employed my own servants when I could command the services of the ministers; and that as I feared to give umbrage by selecting any one of them, if she would receive the four, I would send with them a confidential servant, the Akhbarnavis or newswriter, as the bearer of my message. Her anxiety was not without good grounds: the elements of disorder, though subdued, were not crushed, and she dreaded the ambition and turbulence of the senior noble, Balwant Rao of Gotra, who had proved a thorn in the side of the late Raja throughout his life. This audacious but gallant Rajput, about twelve years before, had stormed and taken Nainwa, one of the chief castles of Bundi, in the face of day, and defeated with great slaughter many attempts to retake it, still holding it in spite of his prince, and trusting to his own party and the Mahrattas for support. In fact, but for the change in his relations, he neither would have obeyed a summons to the Presence, nor dared to appear uninvited; and even now his appearance excited no less alarm than surprise. “Balwant Singh at Bundi!” was repeated by many of the surrounding chiefs, as one of the anomalous signs of the times; for to have heard that a lion from their jungles had gone to congratulate the 1744Raja, would have caused less wonder and infinitely less apprehension. The Rani was not satisfied, nor had her late lord been, with the chief minister, the Bohra, Shambhu Ram, who only a few days before the [697] Raja’s death had expressed great unwillingness, when called on, to produce his account of the finances. It was chiefly with a view to guard against these individuals, that the deceased Rao Raja had nominated the British Agent as the guardian of his son and the State during his minority, and the queen-mother besought me to see his wishes faithfully executed. Fortunately, there were some men who could be depended on, especially Govind Ram, who had attended the Agent as wakil: a simple-minded man, full of integrity and good intentions, though no match for the Bohra in ability or intrigue. There was also the Dhabhai, or foster-brother of the late prince, who held the important office of kilahdar of Taragarh, and who, like all his class, is devotion personified. There was likewise Chandarbhan Naik, who, from a low condition, had risen to favour and power, and being quick, obedient, and faithful, was always held as a check over the Bohra. There were also two eunuchs of the palace, servants entirely confidential, and with a very good notion of the general affairs of the State.

Settlement of the Administration.

—Such were the materials at my disposal, and they were ample for all the concerns of this little State. Conformably to the will of the late prince, and the injunctions of the queen-mother, the Agent entirely reformed the functions of these officers, prohibited the revenues of the State from being confounded with the mercantile concerns of the minister, requiring them henceforth to be deposited at the Kishanbhandar, or treasury in the palace, providing a system of checks, as well on the receipts as the expenditure, and making all the four jointly and severally answerable; yet he made no material innovations, and displaced or displeased no one; though in raising those who were noted throughout the country for their integrity, he confirmed their good intentions and afforded them scope, while his measures were viewed with general satisfaction. After these arrangements, the greatest anxiety of the queen was for the absence of Balwant Rao; and, as it was in vain to argue against her fears, she requested that, when the ceremonies of installation were over, the chiefs might be dismissed to their estates, and that I would take the opportunity, at the next 1745darbar, to point out to them the exact line of their duties, and the necessity of observance of the customs of past days: all of which was courteously done.

Interview of the Author with the Rāni.

—Although the festival of the Rakhi was not until the end of the month, the mother of the young prince sent me by the hands of the Bhatt, or family priest, the bracelet of adoption as her brother, which made my young ward henceforth my bhanja, or nephew. With this mark of regard, she also expressed, through the ministers, a wish that I would pay her a visit at the palace, as she had many points to discuss regarding [698] Lalji’s welfare, which could only be satisfactorily argued viva voce. Of course I assented; and, accompanied by the Bohra and the confidential eunuchs of the Rawala, I had a conversation of about three hours with my adopted sister; a curtain being between us. Her language was sensible and forcible, and she evinced a thorough knowledge of all the routine of government and the views of parties, which she described with great clearness and precision. She especially approved of the distribution of duties, and said, with these checks, and the deep interest I felt for all that concerned the honour of Bundi, her mind was quite at ease; nor had she anything left to desire. She added that she relied implicitly on my friendship for the deceased, whose regard for me was great. I took the liberty of adverting to many topics for her own guidance; counselling her to shun the error of communicating with or receiving reports from interested or ignorant advisers; and above all, to shun forming parties, and ruling, according to their usual policy, by divisions: I suggested that the object would be best attained by never intimating her wishes but when the four ministers were together; and urged her to exercise her own sound judgment, and banish all anxiety for her son’s welfare, by always recalling to mind what my government had done for the interests of Bundi. During a great part of this conversation, the Bohra had retired, so that her tongue was unrestrained. With itr-pan and her blessing (asis) sent by one of her damsels, she dismissed me with the oft-repeated remark, “Forget not that Lalji is now in your lap.”

I retired with my conductors, highly gratified with this interesting conversation, and impressed with respect for her capacity and views. This Rani, as I have elsewhere mentioned, is of the 1746Rathor tribe, and of the house of Kishangarh in Marwar; she is the youngest of the late Rao Raja’s four widowed queens, but takes the chief rank, as mother and guardian of the minor prince.

I remained at Bundi till the middle of August; when, having given a right tone and direction to its government, I left it with the admonition that I should consider myself authorized, not as the Agent of government so much as the executor of their late lord’s wishes, and with the concurrent assent of the regent-queen, to watch over the prince’s welfare until the age of sixteen, when Rajput minority ceases; and advertised them, that they must not be surprised if I called upon them every year to inform me of the annual surplus revenue they had set aside for accumulation until his majority. I reminded the Bohra, in the words of his own beautiful metaphor, when, at the period of the treaty, my government restored its long-alienated lands [699], “again will our lakes overflow; once more will the lotus show its face on the waters.” Nor had he forgotten this emblematic phraseology, and with his coadjutors promised his most strenuous efforts. During the few remaining days of my stay, I had continual messages from the young prince, by the ‘Gold stick,’ or Dhabhai, which were invariably addressed to me as ‘the Mamu Sahib,’ or uncle. He sent me specimens of his handwriting, both in Devanagari and Persian, in which last, however, he had not got farther than the alphabet; and he used to ride and karauli^[5] his horse within sight of my tents, and always expressed anxiety to know what the ‘Mamu’ thought of his horsemanship. I was soon after called upon by the queen-mother for my congratulations on Lalji having slain his first boar, an event that had summoned all the Haras to make their offerings; a ceremony which will recall a distinction received by the Macedonian youths, on a similar occasion, who were not admitted to public discussions until they had slain a wild boar.^[6]

Whilst partaking in these national amusements, and affording all the political aid I could, my leisure time was employed in extracting from old chronicles or living records what might serve to develop the past history of the family; in frequent visits to 1747the cenotaphs of the family, or other remarkable spots, and in dispersing my emissaries for inscriptions in every direction. This was the most singular part of my conduct to the Bundi court; they could not conceive why I should take an interest in such a pursuit.

Revenues of Būndi.

—The fiscal revenues of Bundi do not yet exceed three lakhs of rupees; and it will be some time before the entire revenues, both fiscal and feudal, will produce more than five;^[7] and out of the crown domain, eighty thousand rupees annually are paid to the British Government, on account of the lands Sindhia held in that State, and which he relinquished by the treaty of A.D. 1818. Notwithstanding his circumscribed means, the late Rao Raja put every branch of his government on a most respectable footing. He could muster seven hundred household and Pattayat horse; and, including his garrisons, his corps of Golandaz, and little park (jinsi)^[8] of twelve guns, about two thousand seven hundred paid infantry; in all between three and four thousand men. For the queens, the officers of government, and the pay of the garrisons, estates were assigned, which yielded sufficient for the purpose. A continuation of tranquillity is all that is required, and Bundi will again take its proper station in Rajwara.

Camp, Rauta, November 19.—On the 14th of August, I departed for Kotah, and found the junior branches of the Haras far from enjoying the repose of Bundi. But on these subjects we will not touch here, further than to remark, that the last three [700] months have been the most harassing of my existence:^[9] civil war, deaths of friends and relatives, cholera raging, and all of us worn out with perpetual attacks of fever, ague, anxiety, and fatigue.

Rauta, the spot on which I encamped, is hallowed by recollections the most inspiriting. It was on this very ground I took up my position throughout the campaign of 1817-18, in the very centre of movements of all the armies, friendly and hostile.^[10]

1748

A Hunt in the Preserves.

—As we were now in the vicinity of the chief Ramna in Haraoti, the Raj Rana proposed to exhibit the mode in which they carry on their grand hunts. The site chosen was a large range running into and parallel to the chain which separates Haraoti from Malwa. At noon, the hour appointed, accompanied by several officers of the Nimach force 1749(amongst whom was my old friend Major Price), we proceeded to the Shikargahs, a hunting seat, erected half-way up the gentle ascent, having terraced roofs and parapets, on which the sportsman lays his gun to massacre the game; and here we waited some time in anxious expectation, occasionally some deer scudding by. Gradually the din of the hunters reached us, increasing into tumultuous shouts, with the beating of drums, and all the varieties of discord. Soon various kind of deer galloped wildly past, succeeded by Nilgaes, Barahsinghas, red and spotted. Some wild-hogs went off snorting and trotting, and at length, as the hunters approached, a bevy of animals [701], amongst which some black-snouted hyaenas were seen, who made a dead halt when they saw themselves between two fires. There was no tiger, however, in the assemblage, which rather disappointed us, but the still more curious wild-dog was seen by some. A slaughter commenced, the effects of which I judged less at the time, but soon after I got to my tents I found six camel-loads of deer, of various kinds, deposited. My friend, Major Price, did not much admire this unsportsmanlike mode of dealing with the lords of the forest, and although very well, once in one’s life, most would think a boar hunt, spear in hand, preferable. Still it was an exhilarating scene; the confusion of the animals, their wild dismay at this compulsory association; the yells, shouts, and din from four battalions of regulars, who, in addition to the ordinary band of huntsmen, formed a chain from the summit of the mountain, across the valley to the opposite heights; and, last not least, the placid regent himself listening to the tumult he could no longer witness, produced an effect not easily forgotten. This sport is a species of petty war, not altogether free from danger, especially to the rangers; but I heard of no accidents. We had a round of a nilgae, and also tried some steaks, which ate very like coarse beef.

It is asserted that, in one shape or another, these hunting excursions cost the State two lakhs, or £20,000 annually. The regent’s regular hunting-establishment consisted of twenty-five carpenters, two hundred Aherias, or huntsmen, and five hundred occasional rangers. But the gots, or ‘feasts,’ at the conclusion of these sports, occasioned the chief expense, when some thousands were fed, and rewards and gratuities were bestowed upon those whom the regent happened to be pleased with. This was one 1750of the methods he pursued to ingratiate himself with the Haras, and he was eminently successful; the only wonder is, that so good an opportunity should have been neglected of getting rid of one who had so long tyrannized over them.

We here took a temporary leave of the regent; and we intend to fill up the interval till the return of the Maharao from Mewar, by making a tour through upper Malwa, in which we shall visit the falls of the Chambal amidst the dense woods of Pachel [702].

10. It was from this ground I detached thirty-two firelocks of my guard, supported by two hundred of the regent’s men, with two camel swivels, to beat up a portion of the main Pindari horde, when broken by our armies. But my little band outmarched the auxiliaries, and when they came upon the foe, they found a camp of 1500 instead of 500 men; but nothing daunted, and the surprise being complete, they poured in sixty rounds before the day broke, and cleared their camp. Then, each mounting a marauder’s horse and driving a laden camel before him, they returned within the twenty-four hours, having marched sixty miles, and slain more than four times their numbers. Nothing so clearly illustrated the destitution of all moral courage in the freebooters, as their conduct on this occasion; for at dawn of day, when the smoke cleared away, and they saw the handful of men who had driven them into the Kali Sind, a body of about four hundred returned to the attack; but my Sipahis, dismounting, allowed the boldest to approach within pistol-shot before they gave their fire, which sufficed to make the lancers wheel off. The situation recalled the din which announced their return: upon which occasion, going out to welcome them, I saw the regent’s camp turn out, and the trees were crowded with spectators, to enjoy the triumphal entry of the gallant little band with the spoils of the spoiler. The prize was sold and divided on the drum-head, and yielded six or eight months’ pay to each; but it did not rest here, for Lord Hastings promoted the non-commissioned officers and several of the men, giving to all additional pay for life.

The effect of this exploit was surprising; the country people, who hitherto would as soon have thought of plundering his Satanic majesty as a Pindari, amassed all the spoils abandoned on their flight, and brought them to the camp of the regent; who, as he never admitted the spoils of an enemy into his treasury, sent it all to our tents to be at my disposal. But, as I could see no right that we had to it, I proposed that the action should be commemorated by the erection of a bridge, bearing Lord Hastings’ name. There were the spoils of every region; many trays of gold necklaces, some of which were strings of Venetian sequins; coins of all ages (from which I completed a series of the Mogul kings), and five or six thousand head of cattle of every description. The regent adopted my suggestion: a bridge of fifteen arches was constructed, extending over the river at the breadth of a thousand feet, eastward of Kotah; and though more solid and useful than remarkable for beauty, will serve to perpetuate, as Hastin-pul, the name of a gallant soldier and enlightened statesman, who emancipated India from the scourge of the Pindaris. He is now beyond the reach of human praise, and the author may confess that he is proud of having suggested, planned, and watched to its completion, this trophy to his fame. [The Marquess of Hastings died on November 28, 1826.]

CHAPTER 11

The Mukunddarra Pass.

—We marched before daybreak through the famed pass of Mukunddarra,^[1] and caught a glimpse at the outlet of the fine plains of Malwa. We then turned abruptly to the right, and skirted the range which divides Haravati from Malwa, over a rich champaign tract, in a re-entering angle of the range, which gradually contracted to the point of exit, up the mountains of Pachel.

The sun rose just as we cleared the summit of the pass, and we halted for a few minutes at the tower that guards the ascent, to look upon the valley behind: the landscape was bounded on either side by the ramparts of nature, enclosing numerous villages, until the eye was stopped by the eastern horizon. We proceeded on the terrace of this table-land, of gradual ascent, through a thick forest, when, as we reached the point of descent, the sun cleared the barrier which we had just left, and darting his beams through the foliage, illuminated the castle of Bhainsror, while the new fort of Dangarmau appeared as a white speck in the gloom that still enveloped the Patar.

An Atīt Monastery.

—We descended along a natural causeway, the rock being perfectly bare, without a particle of mould or vegetation. Small pillars, or uninscribed tablets, placed erect in the centre of little heaps of stone, seemed to indicate the scene 1751of murders, when the Bhil lord of the pass exacted his toll from all who traversed his dominion. They proved, however, to be marks placed by the Banjaras to guide their tandas, or caravans, through the devious tracks of the forest. As we continued to descend, enveloped on all sides by woods and rocks, we lost sight of the towers of Bhainsror, and on reaching the foot of the Pass, the first object we saw was a little monastery of Atits,^[2] founded by the chiefs of Bhainsror: it is called Jhalaka. We passed close to their isolated dwelling, on the terraced roof of which a party of the fraternity were squatted round a fire, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. Their wild [703] appearance corresponded with the scene around; their matted hair and beard had never known a comb; their bodies were smeared with ashes (bhabut), and a shred of cloth round the loins seemed the sole indication that they belonged to a class possessing human feelings. Their lives are passed in a perpetual routine of adoration of Chaturbhuja, the ‘four-armed’ divinity, and they subsist on the produce of a few patches of land, with which the chiefs of Bhainsror have endowed this abode of wild ascetics, or with what their patrons or the townspeople and passengers make up to them. The head of the establishment, a little, vivacious but wild-looking being, about sixty years of age, came forth to bestow his blessing, and to beg something for his order. He, however, in the first place, elected me one of his chelas, or disciples, by marking my forehead with a tika of bhabut, which he took from a platter made of dhak-leaves;^[3] to which rite of inauguration I submitted with due gravity. The old man proved to be a walking volume of legendary lore; but his conversation became insufferably tedious. Interruption was in vain; he could tell his story only in his own way, and in order to get at a point of local history connected with the sway of the Ranas, I was obliged to begin from the creation of the world, and go through all the theogonies, the combats of the Surs and Asurs, the gods and Titans of Indian mythology; to bewail with Sita the loss of her child, her rape by Rawan, and the whole of the wars of Rama waged for her recovery; when, at length, the genealogy of the family commenced, which this strange 1752being traced through all their varying patronymics of Daityas, Riks, Guhilot, Aharya, Sesodia; at which last he again diverged, and gave me an episode to explain the etymology of the distinguishing epithet. I subjoin it, as a specimen of the anchorite’s historical lore:

Origin of the Name Sesodia.

—In these wilds, an ancient Rana of Chitor had sat down to a got (feast) consisting of the game slain in the chase; and being very hungry, he hastily swallowed a piece of meat to which a gad-fly adhered. The fly grievously tormented the Rana’s stomach, and he sent for a physician. The wiseman (bedi) secretly ordered an attendant to cut off the tip of a cow’s ear, as the only means of saving the monarch’s life. On obtaining this forbidden morsel, the Bedi folded it in a piece of thin cloth, and attaching a string to it, made the royal patient swallow it. The gad-fly fastened on the bait, and was dragged to light. The physician was rewarded; but the curious Rana insisted on knowing by what means the cure was effected, and when he heard that a piece of sacred kine had passed his lips, he determined to expiate the enormity in a manner which its heinousness required, and to swallow boiling lead (sisa)! A vessel was put [704] on the fire, and half a ser soon melted, when, praying that his involuntary offence might be forgiven, he boldly drank it off; but lo! it passed through him like water. From that day, the name of the tribe was changed from Aharya to Sesodia.^[4] The old Jogi as firmly believed the truth of this absurd tale as he did his own existence, and I allowed him to run on till the temple of Barolli suddenly burst upon my view from amidst the foliage that shrouded it. The transition was grand; we had for some time been picking our way along the margin of a small stream that had worked itself a bed in the rock over which lay our path, and whose course had been our guide to this object of our pilgrimage. As we neared the sacred fane, still following the stream, we reached a level spot overshadowed by the majestic kur and amba,^[5] which had never known the axe. We instantly dismounted, and by a flight of steps attained the court of the temple.

The Barolli Temples.

—To describe its stupendous and diversified 1753architecture is impossible; it is the office of the pencil alone, but the labour would be almost endless. Art seems here to have exhausted itself, and we were, perhaps now for the first time, fully impressed with the beauty of Hindu sculpture. The columns, the ceilings, the external roofing, where each stone presents a miniature temple, one rising over another, until crowned by the urnlike kalas, distracted our attention. The carving on the capital of each column would require pages of explanation, and the whole, in spite of its high antiquity, is in wonderful preservation. This is attributable mainly to two causes: every stone is chiselled out of the close-grained quartz rock, perhaps the most durable (as it is the most difficult to work) of any; and in order that the Islamite should have some excuse for evading their iconoclastic law, they covered the entire temple with the finest marble cement, so adhesive, that it is only where the prevalent winds have beaten upon it that it is altogether worn off, leaving the sculptured edges of the stone as smooth and sharp as if carved only yesterday.

The grand temple of Barolli is dedicated to Siva, whose emblems are everywhere visible.^[6] It stands in an area of about two hundred and fifty yards square, enclosed by a wall built of unshaped stones without cement. Beyond this wall are groves of majestic trees, with many smaller shrines and sacred fountains. The first object that struck my notice, just before entering the area, was a pillar, erect in the earth, with a hooded-snake sculptured around it. The doorway, which is destroyed, must have been very curious, and the remains that choke up the interior are highly interesting. One of these specimens was entire, and unrivalled in taste and beauty. The principal figures are of Siva and his consort, Parbati, with their attendants. He stands [705] upon the lotus, having the serpent twined as a garland. In his right hand he holds the damru, or little drum, with which, as the god of war, he inspires the warrior; in his left is the khopra, formed of a human skull, out of which he drinks the blood of the slain. The other two arms have been broken off: a circumstance which proves that 1754even the Islamite, to whom the act may be ascribed, respected this work of art. The ‘mountain-born’ is on the left of her spouse, standing on the kurma, or tortoise, with braided locks, and ear-rings made of the conch-shell. Every limb is in that easy flowing style peculiar to ancient Hindu art, and wanting in modern specimens. Both are covered with beaded ornaments, and have no drapery. The firm, masculine attitude of ‘Baba Adam,’ as I have heard a Rajput call Mahadeo, contrasts well with the delicate feminine outline of his consort. The serpent and lotus intertwine gracefully over their heads. Above, there is a series of compartments filled with various figures, the most conspicuous of which is the chimerical animal called the Grasda, a kind of horned lion; each compartment being separated by a wreath of flowers, tastefully arranged and distributed. The animal is delineated with an ease not unworthy the art in Europe. Of the various other figures many are mutilated; one is a hermit playing on a guitar, and above him are a couple of deer in a listening posture. Captain Waugh is engaged on one of the figures, which he agrees with me in pronouncing unrivalled as a specimen of art. There are parts of them, especially the heads, which would not disgrace Canova. They are in high relief, being almost detached from the slab. In this fragment (about eight feet by three) the chief figures are about three feet.

The centre piece, forming a kind of frieze, is nearly entire, and about twelve feet by three; it is covered with sculpture of the same character, mostly the celestial choristers, with various instruments, celebrating the praises of Siva and Parbati. Immediately within the doorway is a small shrine to the ‘four-armed’; but the Islamite having likewise deprived him of the supernumerary pair, the Bhil takes him for Devi, of whom they are desperately afraid, and in consequence the forehead of the statue is liberally smeared with vermilion.

On the left, in advance of the main temple, is one about thirty feet high, containing an image of Ashtabhuji Mata, or the ‘eight-armed mother’; but here the pious Muslim has robbed the goddess of all her arms, save that with which she grasps her shield, and has also removed her head. She treads firmly on the centaur, Maheswar,^[7] whose dissevered head lies at some distance in the area, while the lion of the Hindu Cybele [706] still retains his grasp 1755of his quarters. The Joginis and Apsarases, or ‘maids of war’ of Rajput martial poetry, have been spared.

On the right is the shrine of Trimurti, the triune divinity. Brahma’s face, in the centre, has been totally obliterated, as has that of Vishnu, the Preserver; but the Destroyer is uninjured. The tiara, which covers the head ^[8] of this triple divinity, is also entire, and of perfect workmanship. The skill of the sculptor “can no further go.” Groups of snakes adorn the clustering locks on the ample forehead of Siva, which are confined by a bandeau, in the centre of which there is a death’s head ornament, hideously exact. Various and singularly elegant devices are wrought in the tiara: in one, two horses couped from the shoulder, passing from a rich centring and surmounted by a death’s head; a dissevered arm points to a vulture advancing to seize it, while serpents are wreathed round the neck and hands of the Destroyer, whose half-opened mouth discloses a solitary tooth, and the tongue curled up with a demoniacal expression. The whole is colossal, the figures being six feet and a half high. The relief is very bold, and altogether the group is worthy of having casts made from it.

We now come to the grand temple itself, which is fifty-eight feet in height, and in the ancient form peculiar to the temples of Siva. The body of the edifice, in which is the sanctum of the god, and over which rises its pyramidal sikhara, is a square of only twenty-one feet; but the addition of the domed vestibule (mandap) and portico makes it forty-four by twenty-one. An outline of this by Ghasi, a native artist (who labours at Udaipur for the same daily pay as a tailor, carpenter, or other artisan), gives a tolerably good notion of its appearance, though none of its beauty. The whole is covered with mythological sculpture, without as well as within, emblematic of the ‘great god’ (Mahadeo), who is the giver, as well as the destroyer, of life. In a niche outside, to the south, he is armed against the Daityas (Titans), the munda-mala, or skull-chaplet, reaching to his knees, and in seven of his arms are offensive weapons. His cap is the frustumfrustum of a cone, composed of snakes interlaced, with a fillet of skulls: the khopra is in his hand, and the victims are scattered around. On his right is one of the maids of slaughter (Jogini) drunk with blood, the cup still at her lip, and her countenance 1756expressive of vacuity; while below, on the left, is a female personification of Death, mere skin and bone: a sickle (khurpi) in her right hand,^[9] its knob a death’s head, completes this group of the attributes of destruction [707].

To the west is Mahadeo under another form, a beautiful and animated statue, the expression mild, as when he went forth to entice the mountain-nymph, Mena, to his embrace. His tiara is a blaze of finely-executed ornaments, and his snake-wreath, which hangs round him as a garland, has a clasp of two heads of Seshnag (the serpent-king), while Nandi below is listening with placidity to the sound of the damru. His khopra, and kharg, or skull-cap, and sword, which he is in the attitude of using, are the only accompaniments denoting the god of blood.

The northern compartment is a picture, disgustingly faithful, of death and its attributes, vulgarly known as Bhukhi Mata, or the personification of famine, lank and bare; her necklace, like her lord’s, of skulls. Close by are two mortals in the last stage of existence, so correctly represented as to excite an unpleasant surprise. The outline, I may say, is anatomically correct. The mouth is half open and distorted, and although the eye is closed in death, an expression of mental anguish seems still to linger upon the features. A beast of prey is approaching the dead body; while, by way of contrast, a male figure, in all the vigour of youth and health, lies prostrate at her feet.

Such is a faint description of the sculptured niches on each of the external faces of the mandir, whence the spire rises, simple and solid. In order, however, to be distinctly understood, I shall give some slight ichnographic details. First, is the mandir or cella, in which is the statue of the god; then the mandap, or, in architectural nomenclature, the pronaos; and third, the portico, with which we shall begin, though it transcends all description.

Like all temples dedicated to Bal-Siva,^[10] the vivifier, or ‘sun-god,’ it faces the east. The portico projects several feet beyond the mandap, and has four superb columns in front, of which the outline by Ghasi conveys but a very imperfect idea. Flat fluted pilasters are placed on either side of the entrance of the mandap, serving as a support to the internal toran, or triumphal arch, and a 1757single column intervenes on each side between the pilasters and the columns in front. The columns are about eighteen feet in height. The proportions are perfect; and though the difference of diameter between the superior and inferior portions of the shaft is less than the Grecian standard, there is no want of elegance of effect, whilst it gives an idea of more grandeur. The frieze is one mass of sculptured figures, generally of human beings, male and female, in pairs; the horned monster termed Grasda separating the different pairs. The internal toran or triumphal arch, which is invariably attached to all ancient temples of the sun-god, is [708] of that peculiar curvature formed by the junction of two arcs of a circle from different centres, a form of arch well known in Gothic and Saracenic architecture, but which is an essential characteristic of the more ancient Hindu temples. The head of a Grasda crowns its apex, and on the outline is a concatenation of figures armed with daggers, apparently ascending the arch to strike the monster. The roof of the Mandap (pronaos) cannot be described: its various parts must be examined with microscopic nicety in order to enter into detail. In the whole of the ornaments there is an exact harmony which I have seen nowhere else; even the miniature elephants are in the finest proportions, and exquisitely carved.

The ceilings both of the portico and Mandap are elaborately beautiful: that of the portico, of one single block, could hardly be surpassed. (Vide Plate.) Of the exterior I shall not attempt further description: it is a grand, a wonderful effort of the Silpi (architect), one series rising above and surpassing the other, from the base to the urn which surmounts the pinnacle.

The sanctum contains the symbol of the god, whose local appellation is Rori Barolli, a corruption of Bal-rori, from the circumstance of Balnath, the sun-god, being here typified by an orbicular stone termed rori, formed by attrition in the Chulis or whirlpools of the Chambal, near which the temple stands, and to which phenomena it probably owed its foundation. This symbolic rori is not fixed, but lies in a groove in the internal ring of the Yoni; and so nicely is it poised, that with a very moderate impulse it will continue revolving while the votary recites a tolerably long hymn to the object of his adoration. The old ascetic, who had long been one of the zealots of Barolli, amongst his other wonders gravely told me, that with the momentum given 1758by his little finger, in former days, he could make it keep on its course much longer than now with the application of all his strength.

Some honest son of commerce thought it but right that the mandira (cella) of Bal-rori should be graced by a Parbati, and he had one made and placed there. But it appeared to have offended the god, and matters soon after went wrong with the Banya: first his wife died, then his son, and at length he became diwala, or ‘bankrupt.’ In truth he deserved punishment for his caricature of the ‘mountain-born’ Mena, who more resembles a Dutch burgomestre than the fair daughter of Sailapati.^[11]

Fronting the temple of Bal-rori, and apart from it about twenty yards, is another [709] superb edifice, called the Singar-chaori, or nuptial hall.^[12] It is a square (chaori) of forty feet, supported by a double range of columns on each face, the intercolumniations being quite open; and although these columns want the elegant proportions of the larger temple, they are covered with exquisite sculpture, as well as the ceilings. In the centre of the hall is an open space about twelve feet square; and here, according to tradition, the nuptials of Raja Hun with the fair daughter of a Rajput prince, of whom he had long been enamoured, were celebrated;^[13] to commemorate which event, these magnificent structures were raised: but more of this Hun anon. The external roof (or sikhara, as the Hindu Silpi terms the various roofs which cover their temples) is the frustum of a pyramid, and a singular specimen of architectural skill, each stone being a miniature temple, elegantly carved, gradually decreasing in size to the kalas or ball, and so admirably fitted to each other, that there has been no room for vegetation to insinuate itself, and consequently they have sustained no injury from time.

Midway between the nuptial hall and the main temple there is a low altar, on which the bull, Nandiswar, still kneels before 1759the symbolic representation of its sovereign lord, Iswar. But sadly dishonoured is this courser of the sun-god, whose flowing tail is broken, and of whose head but a fragment remains, though his necklace of alternate skulls and bells proclaims him the charger of Siva.

Around the temple of the ‘great god’ (Mahadeva) are the shrines of the dii minores, of whom Ganesa, the god of wisdom, takes precedence. The shrine of this janitor of Siva is properly placed to the north, equidistant from the nuptial hall and the chief temple. But the form of wisdom was not spared by the Tatar iconoclast. His single tooth, on which the poet Chand is so lavish of encomium, is broken off; his limbs are dissevered, and he lies prostrate on his back at the base of his pedestal, grasping, even in death, with his right hand the laddus, or sweet-meat-balls, he received at the nuptial feast.

Near the dishonoured fragments of Ganesa, and on the point of losing his equilibrium, is the divine Narada,^[14] the preceptor of Parbati, and the Orpheus of Hindu mythology. In his hands he yet holds the lyre (vina), with whose heavenly sounds he has been charming the son of his patroness; but more than one string of the instrument is wanting, and one of the gourds which, united by a sounding board, form the vina, is broken off [710].

To the south are two columns, one erect and the other prostrate, which appear to have been either the commencement of another temple, or, what is more probable from their excelling everything yet described, intended to form a toran, having a simple architrave laid across them, which served as a swing for the recreation of the god. (Vide Plate.) Their surface, though they have been exposed for at least one thousand years to the atmosphere, is smooth and little injured: such is the durability of this stone, though it is astonishing how it was worked, or how they got instruments to shape it. There is a bawari, or reservoir of water, for the use either of gods or mortals, placed in the centre of the quadrangle, which is strewed with sculptured fragments.

We quit the enclosure of Raja Hun to visit the fountain (kund) of Mahadeo, and the various other curious objects. Having passed through the ruined gate by which we entered, we crossed the black stream, and passing over a fine turf plot, reached the 1760kund, which is a square of sixty feet, the water (leading to which are steps) being full to the brim, and the surface covered with the golden and silver lotus. In the centre of the fountain is a miniature temple to the god who delights in waters; and the dam by which it was once approached being broken, it is now completely isolated. The entrance to the east has two slender and well-proportioned columns, and the whole is conspicuous for simplicity and taste.

Smaller shrines surround the kund, into one of which I entered, little expecting in a comparatively humble edifice the surprise which awaited me. The temple was a simple, unadorned hall, containing a detached piece of sculpture, representing Narayan floating on the chaotic waters. The god is reclining in a fit of abstraction upon his shesh-seja, a couch formed of the hydra, or sea-snake, whose many heads expanded form a canopy over that of the sleeping divinity,^[15] at whose feet is the benignant Lakshmi, the Hindu Ceres, awaiting the expiration of his periodical repose. A group of marine monsters, half man, half fish, support the couch in their arms, their scaly extremities gracefully wreathed, and in the centre of them is a horse, rather too terrestrial to be classical, with a conch-shell and other marine emblems near him. The background to this couch rises about two feet above the reclining figure, and is divided horizontally into two compartments, the lower containing a group of six chimerical monsters, each nearly a foot in height, in mutual combat, and in perfect relief. Above is a smaller series, depicting the Avatars, or incarnations of the divinity. On the left, Kurma, the tortoise, having quitted his shell, of which he makes [711] a pedestal, denotes the termination of the catastrophe. Another marine monster, half boar (Varaha), half fish, appears recovering the Yoni, the symbol of production, from the alluvion, by his tusk. Next to him is Narasinha, tearing in pieces a tyrannical king, with other allegorical mysteries having no relation to the ten incarnations, but being a mythology quite distinct, and which none of the well-informed men around me could interpret: a certain proof of its antiquity.

1761The position of Narayan was that of repose, one hand supporting his head, under which lay the gada, or mace, while in another he held the conch-shell, which, when the god assumed the terrestrial form and led the Yadu hosts to battle, was celebrated as Dakshinavarta, from having its spiral involutions reversed, or to the right (dakshin). The fourth arm was broken off, as were his nether limbs to near the knee. From the nabh or naf (navel) the umbilical cord ascended, terminating in a lotus, whose expanded flower served as a seat for Brahma, the personification of the mind or spirit “moving on the waters” (Narayana) of chaos. The beneficent and beautiful Lakshmi, whom all adore, whether as Annapurna (the giver of food), or in her less amiable character as the consort of the Hindu Plutus, seems to have excited a double portion of the zealots’ ire, who have not only visited her face too roughly, but entirely destroyed the emblems of nourishment for her universal progeny. It would be impossible to dwell upon the minuter ornaments, which, both for design and execution, may be pronounced unrivalled in India. The highly imaginative mind of the artist is apparent throughout; he has given a repose to the sleeping deity, which contrasts admirably with the writhing of the serpent upon which he lies, whose folds, more especially under the neck, appear almost real; a deception aided by the porphyritic tints of the stone. From the accompaniments of mermaids, conch-shells, sea-horses, etc., we may conclude that a more elegant mythology than that now subsisting has been lost with the art of sculpture. The whole is carved out of a single block of the quartz rock, which has a lustre and polish equal to marble, and is of far greater durability.

The length of this marine couch (seja) is nearly eight feet, its breadth two, and its height somewhat more than three; the figure, from the top of his richly wrought tiara, being four feet. I felt a strong inclination to disturb the slumbers of Narayana, and transport him to another clime: in this there would be no sacrilege, for in his present mutilated state he is looked upon (except as a specimen of art) as no better than a stone.

All round the kund the ground is covered with fragments of shrines erected to [712] the inferior divinities. On one piece, which must have belonged to a roof, were sculptured two busts of a male and a female, unexceptionably beautiful. The headdress of the male was a helmet, quite Grecian in design, bound 1762with a simple and elegant fillet: in short, it would require the labour of several artists for six months to do anything like justice to the wonders of Barolli.

There is no chronicle to tell us for whom or by whom this temple was constructed. The legends are unintelligible; for although Raja Hun is the hero of this region, it is no easy task to account for his connexion with the mythology. If we, however, connect this apparently wild tradition with what is already said regarding his ruling at Bhainsror, and moreover with what has been recorded in the first part of this work, when ‛Angatsi, lord of the Huns,' was enrolled amongst the eighty-four subordinate princes who defended Chitor against the first attempt of the Islamite, in the eighth century, the mystery ceases. The name of Hun is one of frequent occurrence in ancient traditions, and the early inscription at Monghyr has already been mentioned, as likewise the still more important admission of this being one of the Thirty-six Royal tribes of Rajputs; and as, in the Chitor chronicle, they have actually assigned as the proper name of the Hun prince that (Angatsi) which designates, according to their historian Deguignes, the grand horde, we can scarcely refuse our belief that “there were Huns” in India in those days. But although Raja Hun may have patronized the arts, we can hardly imagine he could have furnished any ideas to the artists, who at all events have not produced a single Tatar feature to attest their rule in this region. It is far more probable, if ever Grecian artists visited these regions, that they worked upon Indian designs—an hypothesis which may be still further supported. History informs us of the Grecian auxiliaries sent by Seleucus to the (Puar) monarch of Ujjain (Ozene),^[16] whose descendants corresponded with Augustus; and I have before suggested the possibility of the temple of Kumbhalmer, which is altogether 1763dissimilar to any remains of Hindu art, being attributable to the same people.

We discovered two inscriptions, as well as the names of many visitors, inscribed on the pavement and walls of the portico, bearing date seven and eight hundred years ago; one was “the son of Jalansi, from Dhawalnagari”; another, which is in the ornamental Nagari of the Jains, is dated the 13th of Kartik (the month sacred to Mars), S. 981, or A.D. 925. Unfortunately it is but a fragment, containing five slokas in praise of Siddheswar, or Mahadeo, as the patron of the ascetic Jogis. Part of a name remains; and although my old Guru will not venture to give a translation without [713] his sibylline volume, the Vyakarana, which was left at Udaipur, there is yet sufficient to prove it to be merely the rhapsody of a Pandit, visiting Rori Barolli, in praise of the ‘great god’ and of the site.^[17] More time and investigation than I could afford, might make further discoveries; and it would be labour well rewarded if we could obtain a date for this Augustan age of India. At the same time, it is evident that the whole was not accomplished within one man’s existence, nor could the cost be defrayed by one year’s revenue of all Rajputana.

We may add, before we quit this spot, that there are two piles of stones, in the quadrangle of the main temple, raised over the defunct priests of Mahadeo, who, whether Gosains, Sannyasis, or Dadupantis, always bury their dead.

Barolli is in the tract named Pachel, or the flat between the river Chambal and the pass, containing twenty-four villages in the lordship of Bhainsror, lying about three miles west, and highly improving the scene, which would otherwise be one of perfect solitude. According to the local tradition of some of the wild tribes, its more ancient name was Bhadravati, the seat of the Huns; and the traces of the old city in extensive mounds and ruins are still beheld around the more modern Bhainsror. Tradition adds that the Charmanvati (the classic name of the Chambal) had not then ploughed itself a channel in this adamantine bed; but nine centuries could not have effected this operation, although it is not far from the period when Angatsi, the Hun, served the Rana of Chitor [714].

The Whirlpools of the Chambal, December 3.—Having halted several days at Barolli to admire the works of man, we marched to contemplate the still more stupendous operations of nature—the Chulis, or ‘whirlpools,’ of the Chambal. For three miles we had to hew a path through the forest for our camels and horses; at the end of which, the sound of many waters gradually increased, until we stood on the bleak edge of the river’s rocky bed. Our little camp was pitched upon an elevated spot, commanding a view over one of the most striking objects of nature—a scene bold beyond the power of description. Behind us was a deep wood; in front, the abrupt precipices of the Patar; to the left, the river expanded into a lake of ample dimensions, fringed with trees, and a little onward to the right, the majestic and mighty Charmanvati, one of the sixteen sacred rivers of India, shrunk into such a narrow compass that even man might bestride it. From the tent, nothing seemed to disturb the unruffled surface of the lake, until we approached the point of outlet, and beheld the deep bed the river has excavated in the rock. This is the commencement of the falls. Proceeding along the margin, one rapid succeeds another, the gulf increasing in width, and the noise becoming more terrific, until you arrive at a spot where the stream is split into four distinct channels; and a little farther, an isolated rock appears, high over which the whitened spray ascends, the sunbeams playing on it. Here the separated channels, each terminating in a cascade, fall into an ample basin, and again unite their waters, boiling around the masses of black rock, which ever and anon peeps out and contrasts with the foaming surge rising from the whirlpools (chulis) beneath. From this huge cauldron the waters again divide into two branches, encircling and isolating the rock, on whose northern face they reunite, and form another fine fall [715].

A tree is laid across the chasm, by the aid of which the adventurous may attain the summit of the rock, which is quite flat, and is called ‘the table of the Thakur of Bhainsror,’ who often, in the summer, holds his got or feast there, and a fitter spot for 1765such an entertainment can scarcely be imagined. Here, soothed by the murmur of foaming waters, the eye dwelling on a variety of picturesque objects, seen through the prismatic hues of the spray-clouds, the baron of Bhainsror and his little court may sip their amrit, fancying it, all the while, taken from the churning of the little ocean beneath them.

On issuing from the Chulis, the river continues its course through its rocky bed, which gradually diminishes to about fifteen feet, and with greatly increased velocity, until, meeting a softer soil, under Bhainsror, it would float a man-of-war. The distance from the lake first described to this rock is about a mile, and the difference of elevation, under two hundred feet; the main cascade being about sixty feet fall. It is a curious fact that, after a course of three hundred miles, the bed of a mighty river like this should be no more than about three yards broad. The whirlpools are huge perpendicular caverns, thirty and forty feet in depth, between some of which there is a communication underground; the orbicular stones, termed roris, are often forced up in the agitation of these natural cauldrons; one of them represents the object of worship at Bal-rori. For many miles down the stream, towards Kotah, the rock is everywhere pierced by incipient Chulis, or whirlpools, which, according to their size and force, are always filled with these rounded stones.

From hence the Chambal pursues its course through the 1766plateau (sometimes six hundred feet high) to Kotah. Here nature is in her grandest attire. The scene, though wild and rugged, is sublime; and were I offered an estate in Mewar, I would choose Bhainsror, and should be delighted to hold my got enveloped in the mists which rise from the whirlpools of the Chambal [716].

Gangabheva, December 4.—The carpenters have been at work for some days hewing a road for us to pass to Gangabheva, another famed retreat in this wild and now utterly deserted abode. We commenced our march through a forest, the dog-star nearly south; the river dimly seen on our right. On our left were the remains of a ruined circumvallation, which is termed Rana-Kot; probably a ramna, or preserve. At daybreak we arrived at the hamlet of Kherli; and here, our course changing abruptly to the south-east, we left the river, and continued our journey through rocks and thickets, until a deep grove of lofty trees, enclosed by a dilapidated wall, showed that we had reached the object of our search, Gangabheva.

What a scene burst upon us, as we cleared the ruined wall and forced our way over the mouldering fragments of ancient grandeur! Gangabheva, or ‘the circle of Ganga,’^[1] appears to have been selected as a retreat for the votaries of Mahadeva, from its being a little oasis in this rock-bound valley; for its site was a fine turf, kept in perpetual verdure by springs.

The Saiva Temple.

—The chief object is the temple, dedicated to the creative power; it stands in the centre of a quadrangle of smaller shrines, which have more the appearance of being the cenotaphs of some ancient dynasty than domiciles for the inferior divinities. The contrast between the architecture of the principal temple, and that of the shrines which surround it, is remarkable. The body of the chief temple has been destroyed, and with its wrecks a simple, inelegant mandir has been raised; nor is there aught of the primitive structure, except the portico, remaining. Its columns are fluted, and the entablature (part of which lies prostrate and reversed)^[2] exhibits a profusion of rich sculpture. In front of the temple is a circular basin, always overflowing, and 1767whence the term bhevo or bheo, ‘a circle,’ added to the name of the spring, which is feigned to be an emanation of Ganga. The surface of its waters is covered with the flower sacred to the goddess, that particular lotus termed kamadhan, which may be rendered ‘the riches of love.’

The chief temple evinces the same skill and taste as the structures of Barolli, and the embellishments are similar. We here recognize the groups of Mahadeva and Parbati, with the griffins (grasda), the Naginis, half serpent, half female, etc., though not in so finished a style as at Barolli. Whatever be the age of this temple (and we found on the pavement the name of a votary with the date S. 1011, or A.D. 955), it is many centuries more recent than those which surround it, in whose massive simplicity we [717] have a fine specimen of the primitive architecture of the Hindus. Even of these, we can trace varieties. That of which we present a drawing (vide Plate) shows, in its fluted columns, a more ambitious, though not a better taste, than the plainer supporters of the pyramidal roofs, which cover all the ancient temples of Bal-Siva. Five of these small shrines filled up each face of the quadrangle, but with the exception of those on the east side, all are in ruins. The doors of those which possess an enclosed sanctum face inwards towards the larger shrine: and each has a simple low altar, on which are ranged the attendant divinities of Mahadeva. The sculpture of all these is of a much later date than the specimens at Barolli, and of inferior execution, though far superior to anything that the Hindu sculptor of modern days can fabricate. They may possibly be of the date found inscribed (the tenth century), posterior to which no good Hindu sculpture is to be found. As this spot is now utterly deserted, and the tiger and wild boar are the only inhabitants that visit the groves of Gangabheva, I shall be guilty of no sacrilege in removing a few of these specimens of early art.^[3]

Nature has co-operated with the ruthless Turk in destroying the oldest specimens of the art. Wherever there is a chink or crevice, vegetation fixes itself. Of this we had a fine specimen 1768in a gigantic but now mouldering kur, which had implanted itself in the mandap of the principal temple, and rent it to its foundation. On examining its immense roots, large slabs were actually encased with the wood, the bark of which nearly covers a whole regiment of petty gods. This fact alone attests the longevity of this species of tree, which is said to live a thousand years. The fountain temple has, in a similar way, been levelled by another of these kur-trees, the branches of which had gradually pressed in and overwhelmed it. The Singar-chaori, or nuptial hall, is also nearly unroofed; and although the portico may yet survive for ages, time is rapidly consuming the rest.

I should have said that there are two distinct enclosures, an interior and exterior, and it is the first which is crowded with the noblest trees, everywhere clustered by the Amarvela, ‘the garland of eternity,’ sacred to Mahadeva, which shades the shrine, overhanging it in festoons. This is the giant of the parasitic tribe, its main stem being as thick near the root as my body. I counted sixty joints, each apparently denoting a year’s growth, yet not half-way up the tree on which it climbed. That [718] highly-scented shrub, the ketaki,^[4] grew in great profusion near the kund, and a bevy of monkeys were gambolling about them, the sole inhabitants of the grove. The more remote enclosure contained many altars, sacred to the manes of the faithful wives who became Satis for the salvation of their lords. On some of these altars were three and four putlis, or images, denoting the number of devotees. It would require a month’s halt and a company of pioneers to turn over these ruins, and then we might not be rewarded for our pains. We have therefore set to work to clear a path, that we may emerge from these wilds.

Nauli, December 5; twelve miles.—The road runs through one continued forest, which would have been utterly impassable but for the hatchet. Half-way is the boundary between Bhainsror and Bhanpura, also an ancient appanage of Mewar, but now belonging to Holkar. Nauli is a comfortable village, having the remains of a fort to the westward.

In the evening I went to visit Takaji-ka-kund, or ‘fountain of the snake-king.’ It is about two miles east of Nauli; the road, through a jungle, over the flat highland or Patar, presents no indication of the object of research, until you suddenly find yourself 1769on the brink of a precipice nearly two hundred feet in depth, crowded with noble trees, on which the knotted kur was again conspicuous. The descent to this glen was over masses of rock; and about half-way down, on a small platform, are two shrines; one containing the statue of Takshak, the snake-king; the other of Dhanvantari, the physician, who was produced at the “churning of the ocean.” The kund, or fountain, at the southern extremity of the abyss, is about two hundred yards in circumference, and termed athah, or ‘unfathomable,’ according to my guide, and if we may judge from its dark sea-green lustre, it must be of considerable depth. It is filled by a cascade of full one hundred feet perpendicular height, under which is a stone seat, sacred to the genius of the spot. At the west side issues a rivulet, called the Takhaili, or serpentine, which, after pursuing a winding course for many miles, some hundred feet below the surface of the Patar, washes the eastern face of Hinglajgarh, and ultimately joins the Amjar. Ghasi, my native artist, is busy with the effigy of the snake-king, and Dhanvantari, the Vaidya. From the summit of the plateau we had a view of the castle of Hinglaj, celebrated in Lord Lake’s war with the Mahrattas, and which was taken by Captain Hutchinson with a few men of the Bengal artillery.^[5]

Bhānpura, December 6, eight miles.—This was a delightful march, presenting [719] pictures at every step. Two miles, through jungle, brought us to the abrupt crest of the Patar. For some distance the route was over a neck or chine, with deep perpendicular dells on each side, which, at its extremity, the point of descent, termed the ghat or pass, became a valley, gradually expanding until we reached Bhanpura. At the ghat are the remains of a very ancient fortress, named Indorgarh, which must have been one of the strongholds of this region long anterior to the Chandrawat feudatories of Mewar. Some fragments of sculpture indicate the presence of the artist of Barolli; but all search for inscriptions was fruitless. From hence we saw the well-defined skirts of the plateau stretching westward by Rampura to the Lasaughat, Tarapur, and Jawad, the point of our ascent last year.

It was pleasing, after a week’s incarceration amidst these ruins and scenes of natural grandeur, where European foot had never 1770trod, to see verdant fields and inhabitants of the plains; such alternations make each delightful in its turn. We had been satiated with the interminable flats and unvarying cornfields of Haraoti, and it was a relief to quit that tame tranquillity for the whirlpools of the Chambal, the kunds of Ganga, and the snake-king in the regions of the inaccessible Durga.

Mausoleum of Jaswant Rāo Holkar.

—As we approached Bhanpura, we crossed a small rivulet, called the Rewa, coming from the glen of the pass; near which is the mausoleum of Jaswant Rao Holkar, adjoining the scene of his greatest glory, when he drove an English army from his territory.^[6] The architecture is worthy of the barbarian Mahratta; it is a vaulted building, erected upon a terrace, all of hewn stone; its only merit is its solidity. There is a statue of this intrepid chieftain, of the natural size, in the usual ungraceful sitting posture, with his little turban; but it gives but a mean idea of the man who made terms with Lake at the altars of Alexander. It is enclosed by a miniature and regularly built fortress, with bastions, the interior of which are hollow and colonnaded, serving as a Dharmsala, or place of halt for pilgrims or travellers; and on the terrace are a few rahaklas, or swivels. On the right of the temple destined to receive the effigy of Jaswant, is a smaller cenotaph to the memory of his sister, who died shortly after him. The gateway leading into this castellated tomb has apartments at the top, and at the entrance is a handsome piece of brass ordnance, called Kali, or ‘death.’ There is a temporary building on the right of the gateway, where prayers are recited all day long for the soul of Jaswant, before an altar on which were placed twenty-four dewas, or lamps, always burning. A figure dressed in white was on the altar; immediately behind which, painted on the wall, was Jaswant himself, and as in the days [720] of his glory, mounted on his favourite war-horse, Mahua. The chamar was waving over his head, and silver-mace bearers were attending, while the officiating priests, seated on carpets, pronounced their incantations.

I left the master to visit Mahua, whose stall is close to the mausoleum of Holkar, whom he bore in many a desperate strife. The noble animal seemed to possess all his master’s aversion to a Farangi, and when, having requested his body-clothes to be 1771removed, I went up to examine him, he at first backed his ears and showed fight; but at last permitted me to rub his fine forehead. Mahua is a chestnut of the famed Bhimthadi ^[7] breed; like his master, a genuine native of Maharashtra, he exhibits the framework of a perfect horse, though under 14-3; his forelegs show what he has gone through. His head is a model, exhibiting the highest quality of blood; ears small and pointed, eye full and protruding, and a mouth that could drink out of a tea-cup. He is in very good condition; but I put in my arzi that they would provide more ample and sweeter bedding, which was readily promised. The favourite elephant is a pensioner as well as Mahua. Even in these simple incidents we see that the mind is influenced by similar associations all over the world.

Bhanpura is a town of five thousand houses, surrounded by a wall in good order; the inhabitants apparently well contented with the mild administration of Tantia Jog,^[8] the present Diwan of Holkar’s court; but they are all alive to the conviction that this tranquillity is due to the supervising power alone. I was greatly gratified by a visit from the respectable community of Bhanpura, merchants, bankers, and artisans, headed by the Hakim in person, nor could the inhabitants of my own country, Mewar, evince more kind and courteous feeling. In fact, they have not forgotten the old tie; that the Rao of Bhanpura, though now holding but a small portion of his inheritance, was one of the chief nobles of Mewar, and even still receives the tilak of accession for Amad from the hands of his ancient lord, though nearly a century has elapsed since Holkar became his sovereign de facto: but associations here are all-powerful.

Garot, December 7; distance, thirteen miles; direction, S.S.E.—It was delightful to range over the expansive plains of Malwa, and not to be reminded at every step by the exclamation “thokar!” of the attendant, that there was some stony impediment ready to trip one up, the moment one’s vision was raised above the earth. A singular contrast was presented between the moral aspect of 1772these plains and of Haraoti. Here, though the seat of perpetual war, still visible in sterile fields, we [721] observe comfort displayed in the huts and in the persons of the peasantry; there, amidst all the gifts of Annapurna, the miserable condition of the ryot provokes one to ask, “Whence this difference?” The reason is elsewhere explained.

Garot is a thriving town of twelve hundred houses, the chief of a tappa or subdivision of Rampura, whence a deputy Hakim is sent as resident manager. It is walled in; but the inhabitants seemed to feel they had now a better security than walls. Here there is nothing antique; but Moli, with its old castle, about midway in this morning’s journey, might furnish something for the porte-feuille, especially a fine sculptured toran yet standing, and fragments strewed in every direction. Tradition is almost mute, and all I could learn was, that it was the abode of a king, called Satal-Patal, whom they carried back to the era of the Pandus.

I was much surprised to find the plain strewed with agates and cornelians, of every variety of tint and shape, both veined and plain, semi-transparent and opaque, many stalactitic, in various degrees of hardness, still containing the fibre of grass or root, serving as a nucleus for the concretion. There are no hills to account for these products in the black loam of the plains, unless the Chambal should have burst his bed and inundated them. Nor are there any nalas which could have carried them down, or any appearance of calcareous deposit in the soil, which when penetrated to any depth, was found to rest upon blue slate.

Caves of Dhamnār,^[9] December 8; direction, south 10° west; distance, twelve miles.—The country reminded us of Mewar, having the same agreeable undulations of surface and a rich soil, which was strewed throughout, as yesterday, with agates. As we approached the object of our search, the caves of Dhamnar, we crossed a rocky ridge covered with the dhak jungle, through which we travelled until we arrived at the mount. We found our camp pitched at the northern base, near a fine tank of water; but our curiosity was too great to think of breakfast until the mental appetite was satiated.

The hill is between two and three miles in circumference; to 1773the north it is bluff, of gradual ascent, and about one hundred and forty feet in height, the summit presenting a bold perpendicular scarp, about thirty feet high. The top is flat, and covered with bar trees. On the south side it has the form of a horse-shoe, or irregular crescent, the horns of which are turned to the south, having the same bold natural rampart running round its crest, pierced throughout with caves, of which I counted one hundred and seventy;^[10] I should rather say that these were merely the entrances to the [722] temples and extensive habitations of these ancient Troglodytes. The rock is a cellular iron-clay, so indurated and compact as to take a polish. There are traces of a city, external as well as internal, but whether they were cotemporaneous we cannot conjecture. If we judge from the remains of a wall about nine feet thick, of Cyclopean formation, being composed of large oblong masses without cement, we might incline to that opinion, and suppose that the caves were for the monastic inhabitants, did they not afford to the contrary in their extent and appropriation.

On reaching the scarp, we wound round its base until we arrived at an opening cut through it from top to bottom, which proved to be the entrance to a gallery of about one hundred yards in length and nearly four in breadth, terminating in a quadrangular court, measuring about one hundred feet by seventy, and about thirty-five feet in height; in short, an immense square cavity, hollowed out of the rock, in the centre of which, cut in like manner out of one single mass of stone, is the temple of the four-armed divinity, Chaturbhuja. Exclusive of this gallery, there is a staircase cut in the north-west angle of the excavation, by which there is an ascent to the summit of the rock, on a level with which is the pinnacle of the temple. Apparently without any soil, some of the finest trees I ever saw, chiefly the sacred pipal, bar, and tamarind, are to be found here.

The ground-plan of the temple is of the usual form, having a mandir, mandap, and portico, to which the well-known term pagoda is given, and there is simplicity as well as solidity both in the design and execution. The columns, entablatures, with a good show of ornament, are distinct in their details; and there are many statutes, besides flowers, not in bad taste, especially the 1774carved ceilings. It would be regarded as a curiosity if found on a plain, and put together in the ordinary manner; but when it is considered that all is from one block, and that the material is so little calculated to display the artist’s skill, the work is stupendous.

Vishnu, who is here adored as the ‘four-armed,’ was placed upon an altar, clad in robes of his favourite colour (pandu, or yellow ochre), whence one of his titles, Pandurang. The principal shrine is surrounded by the inferior divinities in the following order: First, on entering are the Poliyas or ‘Porters’; Ganesa is upon the right, close to whom is Sarasvati, “whose throne is on the tongue”; and on the left are the twin sons of Kali, the Bhairavas, distinguished as Kala (black), and Gora (fair); a little in advance of these is a shrine containing five of the ten Mahavidyas,^[11] or ministering agents of Kali, each known by her symbol, or vahan, as the bull, man, elephant [723], buffalo, and peacock. The Mahavidyas are all evil genii, invoked in jap, or incantations against an enemy, and phylacteries, containing formulas addressed to them, are bound round the arms of warriors in battle.^[12]

At the back of the chief temple are three shrines; the central one contains a statue of Narayana, upon his hydra-couch, with Lakshmi at his feet. Two Daityas, or evil spirits, appear in conflict close to her; and a second figure represents her in a running posture, looking back, in great alarm, at the combatants. Smaller figures about Narayana represent the heavenly choristers administering to his repose, playing on various instruments, the murali, or flute, the vina, or lyre, the mayura, or tabor, and the mridang and thal, or cymbals, at the sound of which a serpent appears, rearing his crest with delight. The minor temples, like the larger one, are also hewn out of the rock; but the statues they contain are from the quartz rock of the Patar and they, therefore, appear incongruous with the other parts. In fact, from an emblem of Mahadeva, which rises out of the threshold, and upon which the ‘four-armed’ Vishnu looks down, I infer that these temples were originally dedicated to the creative power.

1775We proceeded by the steps, cut laterally in the rock, to the south side, where we enjoyed, through the opening, an unlimited range of vision over the plains beyond the Chambal, even to Mandasor and Sondwara. Descending some rude steps, and turning to the left, we entered a cavern, the roof of which was supported by one of those singularly shaped columns, named after the sacred mounts of the Jains; and here it is necessary to mention a curious fact, that while everything on one side is Buddhist or Jain, on the other all is Saiva or Vaishnava. At the entrance to the cave adjoining this are various colossal figures, standing or sitting, too characteristic of the Buddhists or Jains to be mistaken; but on this, the south side, everything is ascribed to the Pandus, and a recumbent figure, ten feet in length, with his hand under his head, as if asleep, is termed “the son of Bhim,” and as the local tradition goes, “only one hour old”: a circumstance which called forth my conductor, who gravely swallowed the tale, the exclamation—“What would he have been if nau mahine ka balak, 'a nine months’ child'!”^[13] The chief group is called the Five Pandus, who, according to tradition, took up their abode here during their exile from the Jumna; and the other figures are performing menial offices to the heroes.^[14]

Fortunately, I had my Jain Guru with me, who gave me more correct notions of these groups than the local cicerone. All these figures are representations of the [724] deified pontiffs of the Jains,^[15] and the group of five are the most celebrated of the twenty-four, and distinctively called the Panch-Tirathi, namely, Rishabhadeva, the first; Santinath, the sixteenth; Neminath, the twenty-second; Parsvanath, the twenty-third; and Mahavira, the twenty-fourth. Each has his sacred mount, or place of pilgrimage (tirath), and each is recognized by his symbol, namely, the bull, black antelope, conch-shell, hooded serpent, and tiger; and it is quite sufficient to find one of these symbols upon the plinth to ascertain the particular pontiff to which it belongs. There was also, in a sitting posture, Chandraprabha, known by his sign, the crescent.^[16] All the figures are from ten to eleven feet high. That 1776in a recumbent position, my friend said was one of the pontiffs, about to “shuffle off this mortal coil,” preparatory to apotheosis. “When such an event took place, the throne of Indra shook, and he sent a deputation to convey the deceased through the Kshira Samudra (sea of curds), to the great temple of deification, whither the whole heavenly host advanced to conduct him.”

Next to, and communicating by a passage with, this hall of the Jain pontiffs, is the most extensive excavation of Dhamnar, locally designated as “Bhim’s Bazar.”^[17] The extreme length of this excavation is about a hundred feet, and the breadth eighty. Although the name of this leader of the Pandus designates every subdivision of this cave, yet everything is Buddhist. The main apartment is that called Bhim’s armoury or treasury, the entrance to which is through a vestibule, about twenty feet square, supported by two columns, and having four lateral semicircular niches, now empty, but probably intended for statues: this opens to the armoury, which is a vaulted apartment, about thirty feet by fifteen, having at the further end a dagoba, supporting the roof. These singularly formed columns, if we may so term them, are named after their sacred mounts; and this is called Sumeru, which being sacred to Adinath, the first pontiff, we may conclude he was here adored. An extensive piazza, full twenty feet wide, evidently a Dharamsala for the pilgrims, runs round this apartment, supported by rows of massive square columns, all cut out of the rock; and again, on the exterior, are numerous square cells, called the apartments of the Srawaks, or Jain laity; in one of which there is a supporting dagoba, and in another two statues of the twenty-third pontiff, Parsva. A part of the vaulted roof of Bhim’s treasury, as it is called, has fallen in so that the vault of heaven is seen through the aperture of the mountain. This is also attributed to Kaurava Chor (thief), whose statue appears on the pinnacle of the temple of Barolli, indicating the old enemy of [725] the Pandus, who robbed them of their kingdom. Close to the armoury is an apartment called the Rajloka, or for the ladies; but here tradition is at fault, since with the exception of Kunti, the mother, Draupadi alone shared the exile of the Pandavas.

1777Still further to the right, or south-west, is another vaulted and roof-ribbed apartment, thirty feet by fourteen, and about sixteen in central height, supported by another image of Sumeru. The sacred bar, or fig-tree (Ficus religiosa), had taken root in the very heart of this cavern, and having expanded until checked by the roof, it found the line of least resistance to be the cave’s mouth, whence it issued horizontally, and is now a goodly tree overshadowing the cave (vide Plate). Around this there are many Pausiddhsalas, or halls for the Yatis, or initiated disciples, who stand in the same upright meditative posture as the pontiffs.

But it is impossible, and the attempt would be tedious, to give, by any written description, an adequate idea of the subterranean town of Dhamnar. It is an object, however, which will assist in illustrating the subject of cave-worship in India; and though in grandeur these caves cannot compare with those of Ellora, Karli, or Salsette, yet in point of antiquity they evidently surpass them. The temple dedicated to the Tirthakaras, or deified Jineswars (lords of the Jains), is a rude specimen of a rude age, when the art of sculpture was in its very infancy; yet is there a boldness of delineation, as well as great originality of design, which distinguishes them from everything else in India. In vain we hunted for inscriptions; but a few isolated letters of that ancient and yet undeciphered kind, which occurs on every monument attributed to the Pandavas, were here and there observed. There were fragments of sculpture about the base of the hill, differing both in design and material from those of the mountain. Altogether, Dhamnar is highly worthy of a visit, being one of the most curious spots in this part, which abounds with curiosities [726].

CHAPTER 13

Pachpahār. Monson’s Retreat. Fate of Lieutenant Lucan. December 10.—We returned to Garot yesterday, whence we marched ten miles north-north-east this morning over memorable ground. It was from Garot that the retreat of Monson commenced, an event as remarkable in the history of British India as the retreat of Xenophon in that of Greece. The former has not been commemorated by the commander, though even the 1778pen of Xenophon himself could not have mitigated the reproach which that disastrous event has left upon our military reputation. Holkar was at Partabgarh,^[1] when, hearing of the advance of the English army, he made direct on Mandasor,^[2] where he halted merely to refresh his horses, and crossing the Chambal at the Aunra ford, he pushed direct on Garot, a distance of nearly fifty miles. Local report states that Monson, in utter ignorance of the rapid advance of Holkar, had that morning recommenced his march for Chandwasa, with what object is unknown; but as soon as he learned the vicinity of the foe, without awaiting him, he ordered a retrograde movement to gain the Mukunddarra pass, leaving Lucan with the irregular horse and the Kotah auxiliaries, chiefly Hara Rajputs, to secure his retreat. Holkar’s army amounted to ten thousand horse, in four gols, or masses, each acting separately. That under —— Khan Bangash ^[3] came on Lucan from the south, while that under Harnath Dada, from the direction of Bhanpur, attacked the Kotah contingent. Lucan defended himself like a hero, and having repelled all their charges, had become the assailant, when he received his death-blow from a hand in his own Paegah.^[4] My informant, who was that day opposed to this gallant soldier, described the scene, pointing out the mahua tree close to which he fell.

Heroism of Amar Singh Hāra.

—The auxiliary band of Kotah was led by the Hara chief of Kolai, his name Amar Singh. On receiving the orders of the English commander, he prepared, in the old Hara style, to obey them. The position he selected was about a quarter of a mile west of Lucan, on the north bank of the Amjar, his left protected by the village of [727] Pipli, which stands on a gentle eminence gradually shelving to the stream, the low abrupt bank of which would secure him from any charge in front. Here, dismounting from his horse, Amar Singh, surrounded by one thousand men, “spread his carpet,” resolved to defend the passage of the Amjar. His force was chiefly infantry, who met the enemy with volleys of matchlocks, and filled the stream with their bodies; but just as he was about to close with 1779them, a ball hit him in the forehead and another in the right breast. He fell, but immediately rose again, and reclining against a sugar mill-stone, encouraged his men to the charge. The calmness of his manner indicated no danger, but it was the dying effort of a Hara: pointing with his sword to the foe, he fell back and expired. Four hundred and fifty of his men were either killed or wounded around their chief, and among the latter, the Palaitha ^[5] chief, the next in rank to Koila, and the Bakhshi, or paymaster-general of Kotah, was made prisoner, and forced to sign a bond for ten lakhs of rupees as a ransom, a penalty for siding with the English.

A humble altar of clay marks the spot where the brave Hara fell, having a tablet, or Jujhar, representing as usual a cavalier and his steed, armed at all points. I felt indignation at the indifference of the regent who had not marked the spot with a more durable monument, but he is no Hara; though could he entomb the whole tribe, he would erect a structure rivalling even that of Mausolus. But this receives a homage which might be denied to a more splendid one; for the villagers of Pipli fail not in their duty to the manes of Amar Singh, whose lowly altar is maintained in repair. The devoted Lucan has not even so frail a monument as this; nor could I learn if the case which enclosed his gallant spirit had any rites of sepulture. But his memory will be cherished by the inhabitants of Pipli, who will point to the mahua tree as that of “Lucan Sahib ka Jujhar.”

By the sacrifice of these brave men, the British commander gained the Mukunddarra pass, without seeing even an enemy; had he there left only five companies, with sufficient supplies and ammunition, under such men as Sinclair or Nichol, Mukunddarra might have rivalled Thermopylae in renown; for such is the peculiarity of the position, that it would have taken a week to turn it, and that could be done by infantry alone. But the commander “had no confidence in his men”: why then did he accept the command? Throughout the retreat the sipahis were eager for the fight, and expressed their opinion openly of their leader; and when this ‘doubting’ commander left five companies to defend the passage of the Banas, how did they perform it? by repelling every assault, while a particle of ammunition lasted. I have often passed this [728] ford, once with Sindhia’s army, and 1780only three years after the retreat. The gallant stand was admirably described to me by Zaman Khan Rohilla, a brave soldier and no boaster (and that day among our foes), who coolly pointed to the precise spot where he shot one of our officers, in the last charge, with his pistol. He said that the Mahratta infantry would no longer return to the charge, and that Jaswant Rao was like a madman, threw his turban on the ground and called for volunteers amongst the cavalry, by whom at length Sinclair and his men were cut off. It is a lesson by which we ought to profit, never to place in command of sipahis those who do not understand, confide in, and respect them.

Pachpahār.

—Pachpahar is a thriving town, the head of one of the four districts of which, by the right of war, we became possessed, and have transferred from Holkar to the regent; so far we have discharged the debt of gratitude. Eighty villages are attached to Pachpahar, which, though never yielding less than half a lakh of rupees, is capable of raising more than twice that sum. There are two thousand houses in the town, which has an extensive bazar filled with rich traders and bankers, all of whom came to visit me. The cornelian continues to strew the ground even to this place.

Kanwāra, December 11; thirteen miles; direction, N.E. by E.—Passed over a fine rich soil, with promising young crops of wheat and gram, and plenty of the last crop (juar) in stacks; a sight not often seen in these war-trodden plains, and which makes the name, Kanwara, or ‘the land of corn,’ very appropriate. At the village of Aonla, four miles south, we crossed the high road leading from Ujjain through the darra to Hindustan, the large town of Sonel lying three miles to our right.

Jhālrapātan,^[6] December 12; ten miles; direction, N.N.E.—The road over the same fertile soil. Passed the Chandarbhaga rivulet, the source of which is only two coss distant, and was shown, within range, the isolated hill of Raleta, formerly the retreat of a Bhil community, which sent forth four thousand bowmen to ravage the plains of Malwa: these were extirpated by Zalim Singh.

1781Jhalrapatan is the creation of the regent; and, as we approached it, his kindness procured me the distinction of being met, a full mile beyond the town, by the chief magistrate, the council, and the most wealthy inhabitants: an honour duly appreciated, this being the only town in India possessing the germs of civil liberty, in the power of framing their own municipal regulations. This is the more remarkable, as the immunities of their commercial charter were granted by the most despotic ruler of India; though the boon was not a concession to liberty, but an act of policy; it was [729] given for value received, or at least expected, and which has been amply realized. Having exchanged salutations, and promised a more extended courtesy at my tents in the evening, we took advantage of the town being thinned, and passed in under a general discharge of ordnance from the ramparts. The city is nearly a square, surrounded by a substantial wall and bastions, well furnished with cannon. The ground plan is simple, being that of the Indian Chaupan or cross, with two main streets intersecting each other at right angles, and many smaller ones running parallel to them. The main street is from south to north. We proceeded through this Bara Bazar until we reached the point of intersection, where, upon a broad terrace, stands a temple to Chaturbhuja, the ‘four-armed’ god, at least ninety feet in height. The marble dome and colonnaded mandap, and the general proportions of the structure, attracted my attention; but having been recently repaired and coated with white, I passed it by, conceiving it to be modern, and not likely to furnish historical data. From thence to the northern gate is a range, on either side, of houses of a uniform structure, having a great appearance of comfort; and the street, which is nearly a mile long, terminates with a temple erected by the regent to his favourite divinity, Dwarkanath. The image here enshrined was ploughed up from the ruins of the ancient city, and carried to the regent at Kotah, who, leaving to the choice of the god the title under which, and the site where, he would be worshipped, his various names were inscribed and placed under the pedestal; the priest drew forth that of Gopalji, and a magnificent shrine was erected to him upon the bank of one of the finest lakes in India, the waters of which, raised by an artificial dam, could be made to environ it at pleasure.

In a street to the north, and parallel to the first, but as yet 1782incomplete, is a handsome temple, dedicated to the sixteenth Jain prophet. This also, I afterwards discovered, was an antique structure, recently repaired, and one of the hundred and eight temples, the bells of which sounded in the ancient city; whence its name Jhalrapatan, or ‘the city of bells,’ and not, as erroneously stated hitherto, from the tribe of the regent, Jhalara-patan, or ‘city of the Jhala’;^[7] ignorance of which fact made me pass over the temples, under the supposition that they were coeval with its modern foundation. I stopped for a few moments at the mansion of the chief magistrate, Sah Maniram, and having expressed my admiration of all I had seen, and my hope that the prosperity of the city would redouble under his paternal care in these days of peace, I made my salaam and took leave. Opposite his house, engraved on a [730] pillar of stone, is the charter of rights of the city.^[8] Its simplicity will excite a smile; but the philosopher may trace in it the first rudiments of that commercial greatness, which made the free cities of Europe the instruments of general liberty. Few of these had their privileges so thoroughly defined, or so scrupulously observed; and the motive which brought the community together was the surest guarantee against their infringement. A state of general war made them congregate, and was the origin of these immunities, which the existing peace and tranquillity will perpetuate. Any want of good faith would be the destruction of Patan.

When the regent took advantage of the times to invite the wealthy of all the surrounding regions to become settlers in this new mart, he wisely appealed to the evidence of their senses as the best pledge for the fulfilment of his promises. Simultaneously with the charter, the fortifications were commenced, and an adequate garrison was placed here under a commandant well known and respected. He excavated wells, repaired the dam of the old lake, and either built anew or repaired the religious edifices of all sects at the expense of the State; and, to secure uniformity and solidity in the new habitations, he advanced to every man who required it half the money necessary for their 1783construction. But the greatest boon of all was his leaving the administration of justice, as well as of internal police, entirely in the hands of the municipal authorities, who, to their credit, resolved that the fines and forfeitures arising therefrom, instead of becoming a bait for avarice and vexatious interference, should be offerings to the shrine of Dwarkanath.

It is proper to say that the chief magistrate, Sah Maniram, who is of the Vaishnava sect, has a coadjutor in Gumaniram, of the Oswal tribe and Jain faith, and each has his separate tribunal for the classes he represents, while the whole form a joint council for the general weal. They pull well together, and each has founded a pura, or suburb, named after their children. The Chauthias, or members of this council, are selected according to the general sense entertained of their fitness; and were the chief magistrates also the free choice of the inhabitants at large, ‘the city of bells’ would require no addition to her freedom. Thus, in the short space of twenty years, has been raised a city of six thousand comfortable dwellings, with a population of at least twenty-five thousand souls. But the hereditary principle, so powerful throughout these countries, and which, though it perpetuates many evils, has likewise been productive of much good, and has preserved these States from annihilation, will inevitably [731] make the ‘turban’ of magistracy descend from the head of Maniram or Gumani to their children, under whom, if they be not imbued with the same discretion as their parents, the stone tablet, as well as the subsequent privileges of Jhalrapatan, may become a dead letter. The only officers of government residing in the town are the commandant and the collector of the imposts; and so jealous are they of the least interference on his part, that a fine would be inflicted on any individual who, by delaying the payment of the authorized duties, furnished an excuse for his interference.

Such is an outline of an internal administration, on which I have just had a commentary of the most agreeable description: a public visit from all the wealth and worth of Patan. First came the merchants, the brokers, the insurers of the Vaishnava persuasion, each being introduced with the name of the firm; then followed the Oswal merchants, in similar form, and both of them I seated in the order of their introduction and respectability. After them followed the trades, the Chauthia or deacons, 1784each making his nazar in the name of the whole body. Then came the artisans, goldsmiths, braziers, dyers, confectioners, down to the barbers, and town-crier. The agricultural interest was evidently at a discount in Patan, and subordinate to the commercial; the old Mandloi Patels were, “though last, not least” in this interesting assemblage. Even the frail sisterhood paid their devoirs, and, in their modesty of demeanour, recalled the passage of Burke applied in contrast to a neighbouring State, “vice lost half its deformity, by losing all its grossness.”^[9] Sah Maniram himself preserved order outside, while to his colleague he left the formalities of introduction. The goldsmiths’ company presented, as their nazar, a small silver powder-flask, shaped as an alligator, and covered with delicate chain-work, which I shall retain not only as a specimen of the craft, but in remembrance of a day full of unusual interest. They retired in the same order as they came, preceded by the town band, flags, trumpets, and drums.

Such is Jhalrapatan. May the demon of anarchy keep from its walls, and the orthodox and heterodox Duumvirs live in amity for the sake of the general good, nor by their animosities increase the resemblance which this mart bears to the free cities of Europe!

From all I could learn, justice is distributed with as even a hand as in most societies, but wherever existed the community that submitted to restraint, or did not murmur at the fiat of the law? Jhalrapatan is now the grand commercial mart of Upper Malwa, and has swallowed up all the commerce of the central towns between [732] its own latitude and Indore. Though not even on the high road, when established, this difficulty was overcome by the road coming to it. The transit-duties on salt alone must be considerable, as that of the lakes of western Rajwara passes through it in its way to the south-east. It is not famed, however, for any staple article of trade, but merely as an entrepôt.

Ruins of Chandrāvati.

—We have said enough of the modern city, and must now revert to the ancient, which, besides its metaphorical appellation of ‘the city of bells,’ had the name of Chandravati, and the rivulet which flowed through it, the Chandrabhaga.^[10] There is an abundance of legends, to which we may 1785be enabled to apply the test of inscriptions. In some, Raja Hun is again brought forward as the founder of the city; though others, with more probability, assign its foundation to the daughter of Chandrasen, the Pramar king of Malwa, who was delivered of a son on this spot while on a pilgrimage.^[11] Another ascribes it to a more humble origin than either, i.e. to Jasu, a poor woodcutter of the ancient tribe of Or,^[12] who, returning homewards from his daily occupation, dropped his axe upon the paras-patthar, with the aid of which he transmuted iron to gold, and raised ‘the city of the moon’ (Chandravati); and the lake is still called after him Jasu Or ka talab. The Pandu Bhim likewise comes in for his share of the founder’s fame; who, with his brethren during their covenant with the Kauravas, found concealment in the forest; but his foe, fearing the effect of his devotions, sent his familiar to disturb them. The spirit took the form of a boar, but as he sped past him through the thicket, Bhim discharged an arrow, and on the spot where this fell, the Chandrabhaga sprung up. Whoever was the founder, I have little doubt that tradition has converted Yasodharman,^[13] the grandson of Udayaditya, the monarch of all Malwa, into the woodcutter; for not only does this prince’s name occur in one of the inscriptions found here, but I have discovered it in almost every ancient city of Central India, over which his ancestors had held supreme power from the first to the thirteenth century of Vikrama.^[14]

The sites of temples mark the course of the stream for a considerable 1786distance, the banks being strewed with ruins. Flights of steps, forming ghats, reach to the water’s edge, where multitudes of gods, goddesses, and demons, are piled, and some [733] of the more perfect placed upon altars of clay, around which some lazy, well-fed Gosains loiter, basking in the sun. Understanding that no umbrage could be taken if I exported some of them to Udaipur, I carried off Narayan on his hydra-couch, a Parbati, a Trimurti, and a cartload of the dii minores, which I found huddled together under a bar-tree. There was a fine statue of Ganesa, but our efforts to move Wisdom were ineffectual, and occasioned not a few jokes among my Brahmans; nor must I pass over a colossal Baraha (boar), of which no artist in Europe need be ashamed.

The powers of Destruction and Reproduction were those propitiated among the one hundred and eight shrines of Chandravati; of which only two or three imperfect specimens remain to attest the grandeur of past days. Everywhere, the symbolic lingam was scattered about, and the mandap of one of those still standing I found filled with representations of the Hindu Hecate and a host of lesser infernals, the sculpture of which, though far inferior to that at Barolli, is of a high order compared with aught of modern times. The attitudes are especially well managed, though there is a want of just proportion. Even the anatomical display of the muscles is attended to; but the dust, oil, and sendur (vermilion) of twelve centuries were upon them, and the place was dark and damp, which deterred us from disturbing them.

Ghasi is now at work upon the outline of two of the remaining shrines, and has promised to give up ten days to the details of the ceilings, the columns, and the rich varied ornaments, which the pencil alone can represent. One of these shrines, having a part of the Singar Chaori still standing, is amongst the finest things in Asia, not for magnitude, being to all appearance merely receptacles for the inferior divinities surrounding some grand temple, but for the sculptured ornaments, which no artist in Europe could surpass (vide Plate). Each consists of a simple mandir, or cella, about twenty feet square, having a portico and a long open colonnaded vestibule in front for the priests and votaries. Every one of these numerous columns differs in its details from 1787the others. But the entrance chiefly excites admiration, being a mass of elaborate workmanship of a peculiar kind, and the foliage and flowers may be considered perfect. It is deeply to be lamented that no artists from [734] Europe have made casts from these masterpieces of sculpture and architecture, which would furnish many new ideas, and rescue the land sacred to Bhavani (Minerva) from the charge of having taught nothing but deformity: a charge from which it is my pride to have vindicated her.

While I remained with Ghasi, amidst the ruins, I dispatched my Guru and Brahmans to take diligent search for inscriptions; but many of these, as well as thousands of divinities, the wrecks of ancient Patan, have been built up in the new town or its immense circumvallation; but our efforts were not altogether unrewarded.

The oldest inscription, dated S. 748 (A.D. 692), bore the name of Raja Durgangal, or ‘the bar of the castle.’^[15] It is very long, and in that ornamented character peculiar to the Buddhists and Jains throughout these regions. It contains allusions to the local traditions of the Pandu Arjun, and his encounter with the demon Virodhi ^[16] under the form of Baraha, or the boar; and states that from the spot where the Varaha was wounded, and on which his blood fell, a figure sprung, originating from the wound (khat), whose offspring in consequence was called Khatri: “of his line was Krishna Bhat Khatri, whose son was Takshak. What did he resemble, who obtained the fruits of the whole earth, conquering numerous foes? He had a son named Kaiyak, who was equal to the divinity which supports the globe: in wisdom he was renowned as Mahadeo: his name sent to sleep the children of his foe: he appeared as an avatar of Buddha, and like the ocean, which expands when the rays of the full moon fall upon it, even so does the sea of our knowledge increase when he looks upon it: and his verses are filled with ambrosia (amrita). From Chait to Chait, 1788sacrifice never ceased burning: Indra went without offspring.^[17] The contributions from the land were raised with justice, whilst his virtues overshadowed the three worlds. The light which shines from the tusks of his foe’s elephant had departed; and the hand which struck him on the head, to urge him on, emitted no sound. Where was the land that felt not his influence? Such was Sri Kaiyak! when he visited foreign lands, joy departed from the wives of his foe: may all his resolves be accomplished!

“S. 748 (A.D. 692), on the full moon of Jeth, this inscription was placed in the mandir, by Gupta, the grandson of Bhat Ganeswar, lord of the lords of verse of Mundal, and son of Hargupta: this writing was composed, in the presence of Sri [735] Durgangal Raja, to whom, salutation! that forehead alone is fair which bows to the gods, to a tutor, and to woman! Engraved by Ulak the stonecutter.”^[18]

On this curious inscription we may bestow a few remarks. It appears to me that the wild legion of the creation of this Khatri, from the blood of Baraha, represented as a Danava, or demon in disguise, is another fiction to veil the admission of some northern race into the great Hindu family. The name of Baraha, as an ancient Indo-Scythic tribe, is fortunately abundantly preserved in the annals of Jaisalmer, which State, at the early periods of the Yadu-Bhatti history, opposed their entrance into India; while both Takshak (or Tak) and Kaiyak are names of Tatar origin, the former signifying ‘the snake,’ the latter ‘the heavens.’ The whole of this region bears evidence of a race whose religion was ophite, who bore the epithet of Takshak as the name of the tribe, and whose inscriptions in this same nail-headed character are found all over Central and Western India. If we combine this with all that we have already said regarding Raja Hun of Bhadravati, and Angatsi the Hun, who served the Rana of Chitor at this precise period,^[19] when an irruption is recorded from Central Asia, we are forced to the conclusion, that this inscription (besides many others) is a memorial of a Scythic or Tatar prince, who, as 1789well as the Gete prince of Salpura,^[20] was grafted upon Hindu stock.

The inscription next in point of antiquity was from the Jain temple in the modern town. It was dated the 3rd of Jeth, S. 1103 (A.D. 1047), but recorded only the name of a visitor to the shrine.

Near the dam of the Or-sagar, there was a vast number of funeral memorials, termed Nisia,^[21] of the Jain priesthood. One is dated “the 3rd of Magh, S. 1066 (A.D. 1010), on which day Srimant Deo, Chela, or disciple, of Acharya Srimana Dewa, left this world.” The bust of the Acharya, or doctor, is in a studious posture, the book lying open upon the Thuni or cross, which forms a reading-desk, often the only sign of the nisia to mark a Jain place of sepulture.

Another was of “Kumar-deo, the Panda or priest of the race of Kumad Chandra Acharya, who finished his career on Thursday (guruwar) the Mul nakshatra ^[22] of S. 1289.”

There are many others, but as, like these, they contained no historical data, they were not transcribed [736].

Nārāyanpur, December 13, eleven miles.—Marched at daybreak, and about a coss north of the city ascended the natural boundary of Haraoti and Malwa; at the point of ascent was Gundor, formerly in the appanage of the Ghatirao (‘lord of the pass’), one of the legendary heroes of past days; and half a coss further was the point of descent into the Antri, or ‘valley,’ through which our course lay due north. In front, to the north-west, Gagraun, on the opposite range, was just visible through the gloom; while the yet more ancient Mhau,^[23] the first capital of the Khichis, was pointed out five coss to the eastward. I felt 1790most anxious to visit this city, celebrated in the traditions of Central India, and containing in itself and all around much that was worthy of notice. But time pressed; so we continued our route over the path trodden by the army of Alau-d-din when he besieged Achaldas in Gagraun.^[24] The valley was full three miles wide, the soil fertile, and the scenery highly picturesque. The forest on each side echoed with the screams of the peacock, the calls of the partridge, and the note of the jungle-cock, who was crowing his matins as the sun gladdened his retreat. It was this Antri, or valley, that the regent selected for his Chhaoni, or ‘fixed camp,’ where he has resided for the last thirty years. It had at length attained the importance of a town, having spacious streets and well-built houses, and the materials for a circumvallation were rapidly accumulating: but there is little chance of his living to see it finished. The site is admirably chosen, upon the banks of the Amjar, and midway between the castle of Gagraun and Jhalrapatan. A short distance to the west of the regent’s camp is the Pindari-ki-chhaoni, where the sons of Karim Khan, the chief leader of those hordes, resided; for in these days of strife the old regent would have allied himself with Satan, if he had led a horde of plunderers. I was greatly amused to see in this camp, also assuming a permanent shape, the commencement of an Idgah, or ‘place of prayer’; for the villains, while they robbed and murdered even defenceless women, prayed five times a day!

We crossed the confluent streams of the Au and Amjar, which, flowing through the plains of Malwa, have forced their way through the exterior chain into the Antri of Gagraun, pass under its western face, dividing it from the town, and then join the Kali Sind [737].

Gāgraun.

—Until you approach close to Gagraun, its town and castle appear united, and present a bold and striking object; and it is only on mounting the ridge that one perceives the strength of this position, the rock being scarped by the action of the waters to an immense height. The ascent to the summit of the ridge was so gradual that our surprise was complete, when, casting our eye north, we saw the Kali Sind sweeping along the northern 1791face of both fort and town, whence it turns due north, ploughing its serpentine passage, at a depth of full two hundred feet below the level of the valley, through three distinct ranges, each chasm or opening appearing in this bold perspective like a huge portal, whence the river gains the yielding plains of Haraoti. As we passed under the town, we were saluted by a discharge from all the ordnance on its ramparts, and the governor, who had advanced to meet us at the express desire of his master, invited us in; but though strongly pressed, and equally desirous to see a place of such celebrity, I would not make myself acquainted with the secrets of this chief stronghold of the regent. On whichever side an enemy might approach it, he would have to take the bull by the horns. It was only by polluting the waters with the blood of the sacred kine, that Ala, ‘the sanguinary’ (Khuni), took it about five centuries ago from the valiant Khichi, Achaldas, an account of whose family would be here out of place. Independent of ancient associations, there is a wild grandeur about Gagraun, which makes it well worthy of a visit, and the views from the north must be still finer than from the point whence we beheld it.

We passed over the ridge at the extremity of the town, and 1792descended into another Antri, up which we journeyed nearly due west until we reached our camp at Narayanpur. The valley was from four to six hundred yards in breadth, and in the highest state of cultivation; to preserve which, and at the same time to secure the game, the regent, at an immense expense, has cut deep trenches at the skirt of the hills on each [738] side, over which neither deer nor hog can pass, while the forests that crown the hills to their summit are almost impervious even to wild beasts. We passed various small cantonments, where the regent could collect the best part of his army, some even on the summit of the ridge. At all of these are wells, and reservoirs termed po.

Mukunddarra Pass, December 14, ten miles.—At daybreak, commenced our march up the valley, and midway between Narayanpur and the Darra, reached the ruined castle of Ghati, so called from its being erected on the summit of the ridge commanding an outlet of the valley. Partly from the gradual ascent of the valley, and from the depression of the ridge, we formed rather a mean opinion of the pass (ghati); but this feeling was soon lost when we attained the crest, and found ourselves on a scarped rock of some hundred feet in elevation, commanding a view over all the plains of Malwa, while at our feet was a continuation of the Antri of the Amjar, which we observed gliding through the deep woods the regent has allowed to remain at the entrances of these valleys.

Tradition is eloquent on the deeds of the ‘Lords of the Pass,’ both of the Khichi and Hara, and they point out the impression of Mehraj Khichi’s charger, as he sprang upon the Islamite invaders. There are many cenotaphs to the memory of the slain, and several small shrines to Siva and his consort, in one of which I found an inscription not only recording the name of Mehraj, but the curious fact that four generations were present at the consecration of one to Siva. It ran thus: “In S. 1657 and Saka 1522, in that particular year called Somya, the sun in the south, the season of cold, in the happy month Asoj, the dark half thereof, on Sunday, and the thirty-sixth ghari; in such a happy moment, the Khichi of Chauhan race, Maharaj Sri Rawat Narsinghdeo, and his son Sri Rawat Mehraj, and his son Sri Chandarsen, and his son Kalyandas, erected this sivala (house of Siva); may they be fortunate! Written by Jaya Sarman, and engraved by Kamma, in the presence of the priest Kistna, the son of Mahesh.”

Heroism of Gumān Hāra.

—We shall pass over the endless tales 1793of the many heroes who fell in its defence, to the last of any note—Guman Singh, a descendant of Sawant Hara. The anecdote I am about to insert relates to the time when Rao Durjansal was prince of Kotah, and the post of Faujdar was held by a Rathor Rajput, Jai Singh of Gagorni. Through the influence of this faujdar, Guman was deprived of the honour of defending the pass, and his estate sequestrated. He was proceeding homeward with a heavy heart from the presence of his sovereign, when he met the faujdar with his train [739]. It was dark, and a torch-bearer preceded him, whom Guman dashed to the earth, and with his iron lance transfixed the Rathor to his palki. Making for the gate, he said it was the Rao’s order that none should pass until his return. As soon as he gained his estate, he proceeded with his family and effects to Udaipur, and found sarna with the Rana, who gave him an estate for the support of himself and his followers. There he remained until Kotah was besieged by Raja Isari Singh of Jaipur, when he obtained the Rana’s leave to fly to its defence. Passing over the Patar, he made for Kotah, but it was invested on every side. Determined to reach it or perish, he ordered his nakkara to beat, and advanced through the heart of the enemy’s camp. The Jaipur prince asked who had the audacity to beat close to his quarters, and being told “The Rawat of the Pass, from Udaipur,” he expressed a wish to see the man, of whom he had heard his father say he had, unarmed, slain a tiger. The Hara obeyed the summons, but would only enter the Presence in the midst of his band. He was courteously received and offered large estates in Jaipur; the Raja remarking that Guman Singh was only going to his doom, since “in the space of eating a pan he (Isari Singh) would be master of Kotah.” Losing all patience, Guman said, “Take my salaam and my defiance, Maharaj; the heads of twenty thousand Haras are with Kotah.” He was permitted to pass the batteries unmolested, and on reaching the river, he called aloud, “The Ghata Rawat wants a boat,” to conduct him to his sovereign, whom he found seated behind the walls encouraging the defence. At that very moment a report was brought that a breach was nearly effected at a particular point; and scarcely had the prince applauded his swamidharma, than, making his bow, Guman marched his followers to the breach, and “there planted his lance.” Such were the Haras of past days; but the descendants of the ‘Rawat of the Pass’ are 1794now in penury, deprived of their lands, and hard pressed to find a livelihood.

We continued our march from this Pass, often moistened with Rajput blood, and reached the Darra, outside of which we found the old regent encamped, and whence we issued on our tour just three weeks ago. It was by mere accident that, some distance up the valley (a continuation of that we had just quitted), we heard of some ruins, termed the Chaori of Bhim, one of the most striking remains of art I had yet met with. It is the fragment only of a quadrangular pile, of which little now remains, the materials having been used by one of the Kotah princes, in erecting a small palace to a Bhilni concubine. The columns possess great originality, and appear to [740] be the connecting link of Hindu and Egyptian architecture. Not far from the Chaori, where, according to local traditions, the Pandu Bhim celebrated his nuptials, are two columns, standing without relation to any other edifice; but in the lapse of ages the fragments appertaining to them have been covered with earth or jungle. At every step we found Jujhars, or funeral stones; and as this ‘Pass of Mukund’ must, as the chief outlet between the Deccan and northern India, have been a celebrated spot, it is not unlikely that in remote ages some city was built within its natural ramparts. Throughout this town, we found many traces of the beneficent but simple legislation of the Hara princes; and when the regent set up his pillar, prohibiting chiefly his own violence, he had abundant formulas to appeal to. We have already alluded to this circumstance in the sketch of his biography, and we may here insert a free translation of the ordinance we found engraved in the Pass, and which is recorded throughout Haraoti.

“Maharaj Maharaoji Kishor Singh, ordaining! To all the merchants (Mahajans), traders, cultivators, and every tribe inhabiting Mukunddarra. At this time, be full of confidence; trade, traffic, exchange, borrow, lend, cultivate, and be prosperous; for all dand (contribution) is abolished by the Darbar. Crimes will be punished according to their magnitude. All officers of trust, Patels, Patwaris, Sasaris (night-guards), and Mutasaddis (scribes), will be rewarded for good services, and for evil. None of them shall be guilty of exactions from merchants or others: this is a law sworn to by all that is sacred to Hindu or Muslim. Ordained from the royal mouth, and by command of Nana 1795(grandsire) Zalim Singh, and uncle Madho Singh. Asoj the 10th, Monday S. 1877 (A.D. 1821).”

Return to Kotah.

—Having halted a few days, we returned to Kotah by the towns of Pachpahar and Anandpur; both large and thriving, situated upon the banks of fine pieces of water. Madho Singh, at the head of a splendid cavalcade, with six field-pieces, advanced a couple of miles to conduct me to my old residence, the garden-house, east of the town. During the six weeks that we remained here to watch the result of the measures elsewhere described, we endeavoured to find amusement in various ways, to divert us from brooding upon the cholera which was raging around us. This season attracts flocks of wild geese to prey upon the young corn, and we had the double pleasure of shooting and eating them. Occasionally, we had a shot at a deer, or hunted them down with the regent’s chitas (hunting-leopards); or with the dogs ran down jackals [741], foxes, or hares. There was a ramna for wild-hogs about five miles from our abode, and a delightful summer retreat in the midst of a fine sheet of water. The animals were so tame, from the custom of feeding them, that it was almost unsportsmanlike to shoot at them. On one occasion, the Maharao prepared an excursion upon the water, in which I was not well enough to join. Numerous Shikaris, or ‘hunters,’ proceeded up either bank to rouse the bears or tigers that find cover there, when the party from the boats shot at them as they passed. Partly for the purpose of enjoying this sport, and partly to see the fortress of Ekelgarh, six miles south of the city, we afterwards made another excursion, which, though not unattended by danger, afforded a good deal of merriment. The river here is confined by perpendicular rocks, full three hundred feet in height; and amidst the debris, these wild animals find shelter. As the side on which we were did not promise much sport, we determined to cross the stream, and finding a quantity of timber suited to the purpose, we set to work to construct a raft; but had only pushed a few paces from the shore when we began to sink, and were compelled to make a Jonas of the doctor, though we afterwards sent the vessel back for him, and in due time landed all our party and appendages. Being furnished with huntsmen by the regent, who knew the lairs of the animals, we dispatched them up the stream, taking post ourselves behind some masses of rock in the only path by which they could advance. We had 1796been seated about half an hour, when the shouts of the hunters were heard, and soon a huge bear, his muzzle grey from age, came slowly trotting up the pathway. Being unable to repress the mirth of Captain Waugh and the doctor, who were conning over the events of the morning, just before he came in sight, I had quitted them, and was trying to gain a point of security a little remote from them; but before I could attain it, they had both fired and missed, and Bruin came at a full gallop towards me. When within ten paces, I fired and hit him in the flank; he fell, but almost instantly recovered, and charged me open-mouthed, when one of my domestics boldly attacked him with a hog-spear and saved me from a hug. Between the spear and the shot, he went floundering off, and was lost in the crevices of the rock. On our return, we passed the day amidst the ruins of Ekelgarh, an enormous pile of stones without cement; in all probability, a fortress of some of the aboriginal Bhils. Both crests of the mountain are covered with jungle, affording abundant sport to the princes of Kotah. There is a spot of some celebrity a few coss to the south of this, called Gayapur-Mahadeo, where there is a cascade from a stream that falls into the Chambal, whose banks are said to be here upwards of six [742] hundred feet in height. There are few more remarkable spots in India than the course of the river from Kotah to Bhainsror, where both the naturalist and the painter might find ample employment.

I sent scouts in all directions to seek for inscriptions; some of which are in an unknown character. One of the most interesting, brought from Kanswa, of a Jat prince, has been given in the first volume of this work.^[25]

CHAPTER 14

Menāl.

—In February, I recommenced my march for Udaipur, and having halted a few days at Bundi, and found all there as my heart could wish, I resumed the march across the Patar, determined to put into execution my wish of visiting Menal. About ten miles north, on this side of it, I halted at Bijolia, one 1797of the principal fiefs of Mewar, held by a chief of the Pramar tribe, with the title of Rao.^[1] This family, originally Raos of Jagner, near Bayana, came into Mewar in the time of the great Amar Singh, with all his basai, upwards of two centuries ago; the Rana having married the daughter of Rao Asoka, to whom he assigned an estate worth five lakhs annually. I have elsewhere (Vol. I. p. 206) explained the meaning of a term which embraces bondage amongst its synonyms, though it is the lightest species of slavery. Basai, or properly vasi, means a ‘settler,’ an ‘inhabitant,’ from vas, ‘a habitation,’ and vasna, ‘to inhabit,’ but it does not distinguish between free settlers and compulsory labourers; but wheresoever the phrase is used in Rajwara, it may be assumed to imply the latter. Still, strange to say, the condition includes none of the accessories of slavery: there is no task-duty of any kind, nor is the individual accountable for his labour to any one: he pays the usual taxes, and the only tie upon him appears to be that of a [743] compulsory residence in his vas, and the epithet, which is in itself a fetter upon the mind of the vasi of Bijolia.

Bijolia.

—Bijolia (Vindhyavalli) stands amidst the ruins with which this uparmal, or highland, is crowded. From the numerous inscriptions we here found, we have to choose, for its ancient name, between Ahichpur and Morakara; the latter is still applied, though the former appears only on the recording stone. This western frontier teems with traditions of the Chauhans, and seems to have been a dependency of Ajmer, as these inscriptions contain many celebrated names of that dynasty, as Bisaldeo, Someswar, Prithiraj; and chiefly record the martial virtues and piety of Irnaraj of Morakara, and his offspring, Bahirraj and Kuntpal, who appear contemporary with their paramount prince and relative, Prithiraj, king of Delhi and Ajmer.

One inscription records the actions of the dynasty of Chitor, and they are so intermingled as to render it almost impossible to separate the Guhilots from the Chauhans. It begins with an invocation to “Sakambhari Janami Mata, the mother of births, guardian of the races (sakham),^[2] and of mighty castles (durga), 1798hills, and ruins, the Protectress.” Having mentioned the names of nine Chauhans (of Vats-gotra), it flies off to Srimad Bapparaj, Vindhya Nirpati, or, ‘Bappa, sovereign of the Vindhya Hills,’ the founder of the Ranas of Mewar; but the names that follow do not belong to his dynasty, which leads me to imagine that the Chauhans of Uparmal were vassals of Chitor at that early period. Since antiquarian disquisitions, however, would be out of place here, we shall only give the concluding portion. It is of Kuntpal, the grandson of Irnaraj, “who destroyed Jawalapur, and the fame of whose exploit at the capture of Delhi is engraved on the gate of Valabhi. His elder brother’s son was Prithiraj, who amassed a parb of gold, which he gave in charity, and built in Morakara a temple to Parsvanath. Having obtained the regal dignity, through Someswar, he was thence called Someswar, for the sake of whose soul this mandir was erected, and the village of Rewana on the Rewa, bestowed for its support.—S. 1226 (A.D. 1170).” This appears completely to set at rest the question whether the Chauhans wrested by force the throne of Delhi from the Tuars;^[3] and it is singular, that from the most remote part of the dominions of this illustrious line, we should have a confirmation of the fact asserted by their great bard Chand. The inscriptions at Asi (Hansi), and on the column of Delhi, were all written about the same period as this (see p. 1456). But the appeal made to “the gate of Valabhi,” the ancient capital of the Guhilots in Saurashtra, is the most singular part of it, and will only admit of one construction [744], namely, that when Prithiraj revenged the death of his father, Someswar, who was slain in battle by the prince of Saurashtra and Gujarat, Kuntpal must have availed himself of that opportunity to appropriate the share he had in the capture of Delhi. Chand informs us he made a conquest of the whole of Gujarat from Bhola Bhim.^[4]

We have also two other not unimportant pieces of information: first that Morakara was an ancient name of Bijolia; and next, that the Chauhan prince was a disciple of the Jains, which, according to Chand, was not uncommon, as he tells us that he 1799banished his son Sarangdeo from Ajmer, for attaching himself to the doctrines of the Buddhists.

Morakara, about half a mile east of Bijolia, is now in ruins; but there are remains of a Kot, or castle, a palace called the Nauchauki, and no less than five temples to Parsvanath, the twenty-third of the Jain pontiffs, all of considerable magnitude and elaborate architectural details, though not to be compared with Barolia. Indeed, it is everywhere apparent that there is nothing classical in design or execution in the architecture of India posterior to the eleventh century. One of my scribes, who has a talent for design, is delineating with his reed (kalam) these stupendous piles, while my old Jain Guru is hard at work copying what is not the least curious part of the antiquities of Bijolia, two inscriptions cut in the rock; one of the Chauhan race, the other of the Sankhya Purana, appertaining to his own creed, the Jain. It is fifteen feet long by five in breadth, and has fifty-two lines.^[5] The other is eleven feet six inches by three feet six, and contains thirty-one lines; so that the old gentleman has ample occupation. A stream runs amidst the ruins, called the Mundagni (fire-extinguishing); and there is a kund, or fountain, close to the temples of Parsva, with the remains of two noble reservoirs. All these relics indicate that the Jains were of the Digambara sect.^[6] The genealogy is within the Kot, or precincts of the old castle.

There are likewise three temples dedicated to Siva, of still greater magnitude, nearer to the town, but without inscriptions; though one in an adjoining kund, called the Rewati, records the piety of the Gohil chief Rahal, who had bestowed “a patch of land in the Antri,” defining minutely its limits, and inviting others (not ineffectually, as is proved by other bequests), in the preamble to his gift, to follow his example by the declaration that “whoever bathes in the Rewati fountain will be beloved by her lord, and have a numerous progeny” [745].

1800The modern castle of Bijolia is constructed entirely out of the ruins of the old shrines of Morakara, and gods and demons are huddled promiscuously together. This is very common, as we have repeatedly noticed; nor can anything better evince that the Hindu attaches no abstract virtue to the material object or idol, but regards it merely as a type of some power or quality which he wishes to propitiate. On the desecration of the receptacle, the idol becomes again, in his estimation, a mere stone, and is used as such without scruple. All around, for several miles, are seen the wrecks of past days. At Darauli, about four miles south, is an inscription dated S. 900 (A.D. 844), but it is unimportant; and again, at Telsua, two miles farther south, are four mandirs, a kund, and a toran, or triumphal arch, but no inscription. At Jaraula, about six miles distant, there are no less than seven mandirs and a kund—a mere heap of ruins. At Ambaghati, one of the passes of descent from the table-land into the plain, there are the remains of an ancient castle and a shrine, and I have the names of four or five other places, all within five miles of Bijolia, each having two and three temples in ruins. Tradition does not name the destroyer, but as it evidently was not Time, we may, without hesitation, divide the opprobrium between those great iconoclasts, the Ghori king Ala and the Mogul Aurangzeb, the first of whom is never named without the addition of Khuni, ‘the sanguinary,’ whilst the other is known as Kalayavana, the demon-foe of Krishna.

The Bijolia chief is greatly reduced, though his estates, if cultivated, would yield fifty thousand rupees annually; but he cannot create more vasi, unless he could animate the prostrate forms which lie scattered around him. It was his daughter who was married to prince Amra, and who, though only seventeen, withstood all solicitation to save her from the pyre on his demise.^[7] I made use of the strongest arguments, through her uncle, then at Udaipur, promising to use my influence to increase his estate, and doubtless his poverty reinforced his inclination; but all was in vain—she determined “to expiate the sins of her lord.” Having remained two or three days, we continued our journey in quest of the antique and the picturesque, and found both at Menal.

Menāl or Mahānāl, February 21.—It is fortunate that the 1801pencil can here portray what transcends the power of the pen; to it we shall, therefore, leave the architectural wonders of Mahanal, and succinctly describe the site. It is difficult to conceive what [746] could have induced the princely races of Chitor or Ajmer to select such a spot as an appanage for the cadets of their families, which in summer must be a furnace, owing to the reflection of the sun’s rays from the rock: tradition, indeed, asserts that it is to the love of the sublime alone we are indebted for these singular structures. The name is derived from the position Mahanal, ‘the great chasm,’ or cleft in the western face of the Patar, presenting an abyss of about four hundred feet in depth, over which, at a sharp re-entering angle, falls a cascade, and though now but a rill, it must be a magnificent object in the rainy season. Within this dell it would be death to enter: gloomy as Erebus, crowded with majestic foliage entangled by the twisted boughs of the Amarvela, and affording cover to all description of the inhabitants, quadruped and feathered, of the forest. On the very brink of the precipice, overhanging the abyss, is the group of mixed temples and dwellings, which bear the name of Prithiraj (vide Plate); while those on the opposite side are distinguished by that of Samarsi of Chitor, the brother-in-law of the Chauhan emperor of Delhi and Ajmer, whose wife, Pirthabai, has been immortalized by Chand, with her husband and brother.^[8] Here, the grand cleft between them, these two last bulwarks of the Rajput races were accustomed to meet with their families, and pass days of affectionate intercourse, in which no doubt the political condition of India was a prominent topic of discussion. If we may believe, and we have no reason to distrust, the testimony of Chand, had Prithiraj listened to the counsel of the Ulysses of the Hindus (in which light Samarsi was regarded by friend and foe), the Islamite never would have been lord of Hindustan. But the indomitable courage and enthusiastic enterprise of Prithiraj sunk them all; and when neither wisdom nor valour could save him from destruction, the heroic prince of Chitor was foremost to court it. Both fell on the banks of the 1802Ghaggar, amidst heroes of every tribe in Rajputana. It was indeed to them, as the bard justly terms it, pralaya, the day of universal doom; and the last field maintained for their national dependence. To me, who have pored over their poetic legends, and imbibed all those sympathies which none can avoid who study the Rajput character, there was a melancholy charm in the solemn ruins of Menal. It was a season, too, when everything conspired to nourish this feeling; the very trees which were crowded about these relics of departed glory, appearing by their leafless boughs and lugubrious aspect to join in the universal mourning.

Inscriptions from Menāl.

—We found many inscriptions at Mahanal, and of one I shall here insert a free [747] translation, as it may be applied hereafter to the correction of the chronology of the Haras, of which race it contains a memorial.

“By Asapurna ^[9] [the fulfiller of our desires] the kula-devi^[10] [tutelary goddess] of the race, by whose favour hidden treasures are revealed, and through whose power many Chauhan kings have ruled the earth, of which race was Bhanwardhan,^[11] who in the field of strife attained the desires of victory. Of his race was the tribe of Hara, of which was Kulan,^[12] of illustrious and pure descent in both races; whose fame was fair as the rays of the moon. From him was Jaipal,^[13] who obtained the fruits of the good works of his former existence in the present garb of royalty; and whose subjects prayed they might never know another sovereign. From him was Devaraj,^[14] the lord of the land, who gave whatever was desired, and whose wish was to render mankind happy. He delighted in the dance and the song. His son was Harraj,^[15] whose frame was a piece of fire; who, in the field of 1803battle, conquered renown from the princes of the land [Bhumeswar], and dragged the spoils of victory from their pinnacled abodes.

“From him were the lords of Bumbaoda,^[16] whose land yielded to them its fruits. From Devaraj was Ritpal,^[17] who made the rebellious bow the head, or trod them under foot, as did Kapila the sons of Sagara. From him was Kelhan, the chief of his tribe, whose son Kuntal resembled Dharmaraj; he had a younger brother, called Deda. Of his wife, Rajaldevi, a son was born to Kuntal, fair as the offspring of the ocean.^[18] He was named Mahadeva. He was [in wisdom] fathomless as the sea, and in battle immovable as Sumeru; in gifts he was the Kalpa-vriksha ^[19] of Indra. He laid the dust raised by the hoofs of hostile steeds, by the blood of his foes. The sword [748] grasped in his extended arm dazzled the eye of his enemy, as when uplifted o’er the head of Ami Shah he rescued the Lord of Medpat, and dragged Kaita from his grasp, as is Chandra from Rahu.^[20] He trod the Sultan’s army under foot, as does the ox the corn; even as did the Danavas (demons) churn the ocean, so did Mahadeva the field of strife, seizing the gem (ratna) of victory from the son of the King, and bestowing it on Kaita, the lord of men. From the centre even 1804to the skirts of space, did the fame of his actions extend, pure as curdled milk. He had a son, Durjan, on whom he bestowed the title of Jivaraj ^[21] (Jeojraj), who had two brothers, Subutsal and Kumbhakarna.^[22]

“Here, at Mahanal, the lord of the land, Mahadeva, made a mandir, in whose variously-sculptured wall this treasure [the inscribed tablet] is concealed. This (the temple) is an epitome of the universe, whose pinnacle (sikhara) sparkles like a gem. The mind of Mahadeva is bent on devotion in Mahanal, the emblem of Kailas, where the Brahmans perform varied rites. While the science of arms endures, may the renown of Mahadeva never perish;^[23] and until Ganges ceases to flow, and Sumeru to be immovable, may this memorial of Mahadeva abide fixed at Mahanal. This invocation to Mahadeva was made by Mahadeva, and by the Brahman Dhaneswar, the dweller in Chitrakot (Chitor), was this prashishta composed:

“The month of Baisakh (sudi), the seventh. By Viradhawal, the architect (silpi), learned in the works of architecture (silpasastra) was this temple erected.”

The cryptographic date, contained in the above four words, is not the least curious part of this inscription, to which I did not even look when composing the Bundi annals, and which is another of the many powerful proofs of the general fidelity of their poetic chronicles [749].

Arka is the sun, and denotes the number 12; Gun is the three principal passions of the mind; and Chandra and Indu each stand for one: thus,

and this “concealed (gupta) treasure,” alluded to in the inscription, must be read backwards. But either my expounder, or the 1805Silpi, was out, and had I not found S. 1446 in a corner, we should never have known the value of this treasure. Many inscriptions are useless from their dates being thus enigmatically expressed; and I subjoin, in a note, a few of the magic runes, which may aid others to decipher them.^[24]

I was more successful in another inscription of Irna or Arnadeva (fam. Arandeo), who appears to have held the entire Uparmal as a fief of Ajmer, and who is conspicuous in the Bijolia inscription. Of this, suffice it to say, that it records his having “made the gateway to Menal, otherwise termed the city of Someswar”; and the date is

Anal (fire) stands for three, denoting the third eye of Mahadeva, which is eventually to cause pralaya, or ‘destruction.’ Nand stands for nine, or the Nau-nand of their ancient histories. Indu, the moon (twice repeated), is one, and the whole, read backwards, is S. 1193, or A.D. 1137.

In the mandir of Samarsi, we found the fragment of another inscription, dated S. 12-2, and containing the eulogy of Samarsi and Arnaraj, lord of the region; also the name of “Prithiraj, who destroyed the barbarians”; and concluding with Sawant Singh.

Begūn

,^[25] February.—We commenced our march at break of day, along the very crest [750] of the Patar; but the thick woods through which lay our path did not allow us a peep at the plains of Medpat until we reached the peak, where once stood the castle of Alu Hara. But silent were the walls of Bumbaoda; desolation was in the courts of Alu Hara. We could trace, however, the 1806plan of this famed residence of a hero, which consisted of an exterior and an interior castle, the latter being a hundred and seventy cubits by a hundred and twelve. There are the ruins of three Jain temples, to Siva, Hanuman, and Dharmaraja, the Hindu Minos; also three tanks, one of which was in excellent preservation. There are likewise the remains of one hall, called the Andhyari Kothri, or ‘dark chamber,’ perhaps that in which Alu (according to tradition) locked up his nephew, when he carried his feud into the desert. The site commands an extensive view of the plains of Mewar, and of the Arneo-ghati (pass), down the side of the mountain, to the valley of Begun. Beneath, on a ledge of rock, guarding the ascent, was the gigantic statue of Jogini Mata, placed on the very verge of the precipice, and overlooking one of the noblest prospects in nature. The hill here forms a re-entering angle of considerable depth, the sides scarped, lofty, and wooded to the base; all the plain below is covered with lofty trees, over whose tops the parasitic Amarvela forms an umbrageous canopy, extending from rock to rock, and if its superfluous supports were removed, it would form a sylvan hall, where twenty thousand men might assemble.

Over this magnificent scenery ‘our Queen of the Pass’ looks grimly down; but now there is neither foe to oppose, nor scion of Bumbaoda to guard. I could not learn exactly who had levelled the castle of Alu Hara, although it would appear to have been the act of the lord paramount of Chitor, on whose land it is situated; it is now within the fief of Begun. We have already given one legend of Alu; another from the spot may not be unacceptable.

Tale of a Bard.

—In one of the twenty-four castles dependent on Bumbaoda, resided Lalaji, a kinsman of Alu. He had one daughter, in whose name he sent the coco-nut to his liege lord, the Rana of Chitor; but the honour was declined. The family priest was returning across the antri, when he encountered the heir of Chitor returning from the chase, who, on learning the cause of the holy man’s grief, determined to remove it by taking the nuptial symbol himself. He dismissed the priest, telling him he should soon appear to claim his bride. Accordingly, with an escort befitting the heir of Chitor, and accompanied by a bard then on a visit to the Rana, he set out for Bumbaoda. Bhimsen Bardai was a native of Benares, and happened to pass through 1807Mewar on his way [751] to Cutch-Bhuj, at the very period when all ‘the sons of rhyme’ were under sentence of exile from Mewar: a fate which we frequently find attending the fraternity in this country. The cause of this expatriation was as follows; an image of the deity had been discovered in clearing out the waters of the lake, of a form so exquisitely beautiful as to enchant every eye. But the position of the arms was singular; one pointed upwards, another downwards, a third horizontally towards the observer. The handwriting on the wall could not have more appalled the despot of Babylon than this putli of Chaturbhuja, or ‘image of the four-armed god.’ The prophetic seers were convened from all parts; but neither the Bhats nor the Charans, nor even the cunning Brahman, could interpret the prodigy; until, at length, the bard of the Jarejas arrived and expounded the riddle. He showed that the finger pointing upwards imported that there was one Indra, lord of heaven; and that downwards was directed to the sovereign of Patal (hell); whilst that which pointed to the Rana indicated that he was lord of the central region (Medpat);^[26] which being geographically correct, his interpretation was approved, and met with such reward, that he became the pat-bardai, or chief bard to Hamir, who, at his intercession, recalled his banished brethren, exacting in return for such favours that ‘he would extend the palm to no mortal but himself.’ This was the bard who accompanied the heir of Chitor to espouse the daughter of Bumbaoda. The castle of the Hara was thronged; the sound of mirth and revelry rang through the castle-halls, and the bards, who from all parts assembled to sing the glories of the Haras, were loaded with gifts. Bhimsen could not withstand the offering made by the lord of the Patar, a horse richly caparisoned, splendid clothes, and a huge bag of money: as the bard of the Haras (who told me the tale) remarked, “although he had more than enough, who can forget habit? We are beggars (Mangtas) as well as poets by profession.” So, after many excuses, he allowed the gift to be left; but his soul detested the sin of his eye, and resolving to expiate the crime, he buried his dagger in his heart. Cries rent the air; “the sacred bard of Chitor is slain!” met the ear of its prince at the very moment of hatheli (junction of hands). He dropped the hand of his bride, and demanded vengeance. It was now the Hara’s turn to be offended; to break off the nuptials 1808at such a moment was redoubling the insult already offered by his father, and a course which not even the bard’s death could justify. The heir of Chitor was conducted forthwith outside Bumbaoda; but he soon returned with the troops of Chitor, and hostilities commenced where festivity so lately reigned. Phalgun approached, and the spring-hunt of the Aheria could not be deferred, though foes were [752] around. Lalaji, father of the bride, went with a chosen band to slay a boar to Gauri, in the plains of Tukarai; but Kaitsi heard of it, and attacked them. Alike prepared for the fight or the feast, the Hara accepted the unequal combat; and the father and lover of the bride rushed on each other, spear in hand, and fell by mutual wounds.

The pyres were prepared within the walls of Bumbaoda, whither the vassals bore the bodies of their lords; on one was placed the prince of Chitor, on the other the Hara kinsman; and while the virgin bride ascended with the dead body of the prince, her mother was consumed on that where her father lay. It was on this event that the imprecation was pronounced that “Rana and Rao should never meet at the spring-hunt (Aheria) but death should ensue.” We have recorded, in the annals of the Haras, two subsequent occasions; and to complete their quatrain, they have made the defeat of Rana Mokal (called Kumbha in the Annals, see page 1471) fill up the gap. Thus:

In repeating these stanzas, the descendant of Alu Hara may find some consolation for the mental sufferings he endures when he casts a glance upon the ruins of Bumbaoda and its twenty-four subordinate castles, not one of which now contains a Hara:

That these ruins make a powerful appeal to the Hara, I can prove by letters I received in October last year, when, in obedience 1809to a mandate of the ‘Queen of the Pass,’ a band collected at her shrine to obey her behest, whatever that might be.

“Warrants were sent to all the chiefs for their attendance at the capital to celebrate the festival of the Dasahra. The whole of the chiefs and landholders came, with the exception of the Thakurs of Bar, who returned the following reply:—'We have received a communication (paigham) from Sri Bhavani of Bumbaoda, who commands us no longer to put the plough in the soil, but to sell our horses and our cattle [753], and with the amount to purchase sixty-four ^[28] buffaloes and thirty-two goats, for a general sacrifice to Mataji, by obeying which we shall repossess Bumbaoda.' Accordingly, no sooner was this known, than several others joined them, both from Bundi and Kotah. The Thakur of Bar had prepared dinner near the statue of Mata for two hundred, instead of which five hundred assembled; yet not only were they all abundantly satisfied, but some food remained, which convinced the people there that the story (the communication) was true.”

This was from Bundi; but the following was from my old, steady, and faithful Brahman, Balgovind, who was actually on the spot, dated “Menal, 1st Kartik:—A few days ago, there was a grand sacrifice to Jogini Mata, when thirty-one buffaloes and fifty-three goats were slain. Upon two bakras (he-goats), three Haras tried their swords in vain; they could not touch a single hair, at which all were much surprised. These goats were afterwards turned loose to feed where they pleased, and were called amar (immortal).”

Not a comment was made upon this, either by the sensible Balgovind or the Yati Gyanji, who was with him. There was, therefore, no time to be lost in preventing an explosion from five hundred brave Haras, deeming themselves convened at the express command of Bhavani, to whom the sacrifice proved thus acceptable; and I sent to the Raja to break up the party, which was effected. It, however, shows what an easy matter it is to work upon the credulity through the feelings of these brave men.

1810I left the spot, hallowed by many feelings towards the silent walls of Bumbaoda. We wound our way down the rocky steep, giving a look to the ‘mother of the maids of slaughter’ as we passed, and after a short passage across the entrance of the valley, encamped in a fine grove of trees close to the town of Begun. The Rawat, descendant of ‘the black cloud,’ came out to meet me; but he is yet a stranger to the happiness that awaits him—the restoration of more than half of his estate, which has been in the hands of the Mahratta Sindhia since A.D. 1791 [754].

CHAPTER 15

Begūn

, February 26.—The chances were nine hundred and ninety-nine to one that I ever touched a pen again. Two days ago I started, with all the ‘pomp and circumstance’ befitting the occasion, to restore to the chief the land of his sires, of which force and fraud had conspired to deprive them during more than thirty years. The purport of my visit being made known, the ‘sons of Kalamegh’ assembled from all quarters; but honhar has again interfered. The old castle of Begun has a remarkably wide moat, across which there is a wooden bridge communicating with the town. The avant-courtiers of my cavalcade, with an elephant bearing the union, having crossed and passed under the arched gateway, I followed, contrary to the Mahaut’s advice, who said there certainly would not be space to admit the elephant and howda. But I heedlessly told him to drive on, and if he could not pass through, to dismount. The hollow sound of the bridge, and the deep moat on either side, alarmed the animal, and she darted forward with the celerity occasioned by fear, in spite of any effort to stop her. As I approached the gateway, I measured it with my eye, and expecting inevitable and instantaneous destruction, I planted my feet firmly against the howda, and my forearms against the archway, and, by an almost preternatural effort of strength, burst out the back of the howda; the elephant pursued her flight inside, and I dropped senseless on the bridge below.^[1] The affectionate sympathies and attention of those 1811around revived me, though they almost extinguished the latent spark of life in raising me into my palki, and carrying me to my tent. I, however, soon recovered my senses, though sadly bruised; but the escape was, in a twofold degree, miraculous; for, in avoiding decollation, had I fallen half an inch more to the side, I should have been caught on the projecting spikes of the gateway. My tent was soon filled by the Rawatji and his brethren, who deplored the accident, and it was with difficulty I could get them to leave the side of my pallet; but what was my astonishment when, two days after, going to fulfil my mission, I saw the noble [755] gateway, the work of Kalamegh, reduced to a heap of ruins, through which I was conducted to the palace on an ample terrace, in front of which I found the little court of Begun! The Rawat advanced and presented me the keys, which having returned in his sovereign’s name, I deplored his rash destruction of the gateway, blaming honhar and my own want of budh (wisdom) for the accident. But it was in vain; he declared he never could have looked upon it with complacency, since it had nearly deprived of life one who had given life to them. The restored estates had been mortgaged to old Sindhia for the payment of a war-exaction, and the Rawat held regularly-executed deeds, empowering him to recover them when the contribution should be liquidated. When the ‘reign of justice’ commenced in these regions, he produced his bond; he showed that the exactions had been paid twice over, and demanded, through the intervention of the British agent, that Sindhia should be brought to a settlement. The replies and rejoinders were endless; and at length the Rawatji, wearied out, one morning took the law into his own hands; assaulted, carried, and, with the loss of some lives, drove out the Mahrattas, who had built a castellated residence even under his eye. It was necessary for form-sake to punish this act, which we would not prevent; and accordingly Begun was put under sequestration, and the Rana’s flag was planted upon its walls. The chief submitted to all with a good grace, and with a cause so just I made an excellent case against Sindhia, who talked of papers which he never produced. Allowing, therefore, some months more to elapse, we executed the bond, and restored Begun to its rightful owner.^[2] I was the more rejoiced at effecting 1812this, as the Rawat had set the example of signing the deed of renunciation of May 1818, which was the commencement of the prosperity of Mewar.

Basi, February 27.—Compelled to travel in my palki, full of aches and ails. I think this will complete the disorganization of my frame; but I must reserve the little strength I have for Chitor, and, coûte que coûte, climb up and take a farewell look.

Chitor.^[3]—My heart beat high as I approached the ancient capital of the Sesodias, teeming with reminiscences of glory, which every stone in her giant-like kunguras (battlements) attested. It was from this side that the imperial hosts under Ala and Akbar advanced to force the descendant of Rama to do homage to their power. How the summons was answered, the deeds of Ranas Arsi and Partap have already told. But there was one relic of “the last day” of Chitor, which I visited in this morning’s march, that will immortalize the field where the greatest monarch that India (perhaps Asia) ever had, erected the green banner of the faith, and pitched his [756] tent, around which his legions were marshalled for the reduction of the city. This still perfect monument is a fine pyramidal column, called by some the Chiraghdan, and by others Akbar-ka-dewa, both having the same meaning, ‘Akbar’s lamp.’^[4] It is formed of large blocks of compact lime-stone, admirably put together, about thirty-five feet high, each face being twelve feet at the base, and gradually tapering to the summit, where it is between three and four, and on which was placed a huge lamp (chiragh), that served as a beacon to the foragers, or denoted the imperial headquarters. An interior staircase leads to the top; but although I had the strongest desire to climb the steps, trodden no doubt by Akbar’s feet, the power was not obedient to the will, and I was obliged to continue my journey, passing through the Talaiti, as they term the lower town of Chitor. Here I got out of my palki, and ventured the ascent, not through one, but five gates, upon the same 1813faithless elephant; but with this difference, that I had no howda to encase me and prevent my sliding off, if I found any impediment; nevertheless, in passing under each successive portal, I felt an involuntary tendency to stoop, though there was a superfluity of room over head. I hastened to my bechoba,^[5] pitched upon the margin of the Surya-kund, or ‘fountain of the sun,’ and with the wrecks of ages around me I abandoned myself to contemplation. I gazed until the sun’s last beam fell upon ‘the ringlet of Chitor,’ illuminating its grey and grief-worn aspect, like a lambent gleam lighting up the face of sorrow. Who could look on this lonely, this majestic column, which tells, in language more easy of interpretation than the tablets within, of

and withhold a sigh for its departed glories? But in vain I dipped my pen to embody my thoughts in language; for, wherever the eye fell, it filled the mind with images of the past, and ideas rushed too tumultuously to be recorded. In this mood I continued for some time, gazing listlessly, until the shades of evening gradually enshrouded the temples, columns, and palaces; and as I folded up my paper till the morrow, the words of the prophetic bard of Israel came forcibly to my recollection: “How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people! how is she become as a widow! she, that was great among nations, and princess among provinces, how is she become tributary!”

But not to fatigue the reader with reflections, I will endeavour to give him some [757] idea of these ruins.^[6] I begin with the description of Chitor from the Khuman Raesa, now beside me: “Chitrakot is the chief amongst eighty-four castles, renowned for strength; the hill on which it stands, rising out of the level plain beneath, the tilak on the forehead of Avani (the earth). It is within the grasp of no foe, nor can the vassals of its chief know the sentiment of fear. Ganga flows from its summit; and so intricate are its paths of ascent, that though you might find entrance, there would be no hope of return. Its towers of defence are planted on the rock, nor can their inmates even in sleep know alarm. Its Kothars (granaries) are well filled, and its reservoirs, fountains, and wells are overflowing. Ramachandra himself 1814here dwelt twelve years. There are eighty-four bazars, many schools for children, and colleges for every kind of learning; many scribes (kayasth) of the Bidar ^[7] tribe, and the eighteen varieties of artisans. (Here follows an enumeration of all the trees, shrubs, and flowers within and surrounding the fortress.) Of all, the Guhilot is sovereign (dhani), served by numerous troops, both horse and foot, and by all the ‘thirty-six tribes of Rajputs,’ of which he is the ornament (chhattis kula singar).”

The Khuman Raesa, or story of Rawat Khuman, was composed in the ninth century;^[8] and the poet has not exaggerated; for of all the royal abodes of India, none could compete with Chitor before she became a “widow.” But we must abandon the Raesa for a simple prose description. Chitor is situated on an isolated rock of the same formation as the Patar, whence it is distant about three miles, leaving a fertile valley between, in which are the estates of Bijaipur, Gwalior, and part of Begun, studded with groves, but all waste through long-continued oppression. The general direction of the rock is from S.S.W. to N.N.E.; the internal length on the summit being three miles and two furlongs, and the greatest central breadth twelve hundred yards. The circumference of the hill at its base, which is fringed with deep woods, extending to the summit, and in which lurk tigers, deer, hogs, and even lions, is somewhere above eight miles, and the angle of ascent to its scarped summit about 45°. The Talaiti, or lower town, is on the west side, which in some places presents a double scarp, and this side is crowded with splendid objects; the triumphal column, the palaces of Chitrang Mori, of Rana Raemall, the huge temple of Rana Mokal, the hundred pinnacles of the acropolis of the Guhilots, and last, not least, the mansions of Jaimall and Patta, built on a projecting point, are amongst the most remarkable monuments overlooking the plain. 1815The great length of Chitor, and the uniformity of the level crest, detract from its height, which in no part exceeds [758] four hundred feet, and that only towards the north. In the centre of the eastern face, at ‘the gate of the sun’ (Surajpol), it is less than three hundred, and at the southern extremity, the rock is so narrow as to be embraced by an immense demi-lune commanding the hill called Chitori, not more than one hundred and fifty yards distant; it is connected with Chitor, but lower, and judiciously left out of its circumvallation. Still it is a weak point, of which the invader has availed himself. On this, Mahadaji Sindhia raised his batteries when called on by the Rana to expel his rebellious vassal of Salumbar (Vol. I. p. 517). The Mahratta’s batteries, as well as the zigzag lines of his ascent, indicate that, even in S. 1848 (A.D. 1792), he had the aid of no unskilful engineer. From this point the Tatar Ala stormed; and to him they attribute Chitor altogether, alleging that he raised it by artificial means, “commencing with a copper for every basket of earth, and at length ending with a piece of gold.” It would, indeed, have taken the twelve years, assigned by tradition to Ala’s siege, to have effected this, though there cannot be a doubt that he greatly augmented it, and planted there his Manjanikas,^[9] or balistas, in the same manner as he did to reduce the fortress of Rain, near Ranthambhor.

Having wandered for two or three days amongst the ruins, I commenced a regular plan of the whole, going to work trigonometrically, and laying down every temple or object that still retained a name or had any tradition attached to it. I then descended with the perambulator and made the circuit.

The first lateral cut of ascent is in a line due north, and before another angle you pass through three separate gates; between the last of which, distinctively called the Phuta Dwara, or ‘broken door,’ and the fourth, the Hanuman pol (porte), is a spot for ever sacred in the history of Chitor, where its immortal defenders, Jaimall and Patta, met their death. There is a small cenotaph to the memory of the former, while a sacrificial Jujhar, on which is sculptured the effigy of a warrior on horseback, lance in hand, reminds the Sesodia where fell the stripling chief of Amet. Near these is another cenotaph, a simple dome supported by light elegant columns, and covering an altar to the manes of the 1816martyr Raghudeva, the deified putra of Mewar (see Vol. I. p. 325). After passing three more barriers, we reach the Rampol, which crowns the whole, and leads into a noble Dari-khana, or ‘hall of assembly,’ where the princes of Chitor met on grand occasions; and it was in this hall that the genius of Chitor is said to have revealed to Rana Arsi that his glory was departing. On a compartment of the Rampol we found an interdict inscribed by the rebel Bhim of [759] Salumbar, who appears to have been determined to place upon his own head the mor^[10] of Chitor, so nobly renounced by his ancestor Chonda many centuries before. This was, however, set up when he was yet loyal, and in his sovereign’s name as well as his own, “abolishing forced labour from the townspeople, and likewise dand, or contribution”; concluding with a grant of land to a patriotic carpenter of Gosunda, who had, at his own expense, furnished the Rampol with a new gate; the cow and hog are attesting witnesses to the deed. The next building I came to, as I skirted the western face in a southerly direction, was a small antique temple to Tulja Bhavani,^[11] the divinity of the scribes, adjoining the Top-khana Chaori, a square for the park, where a few old cannon, the relics of the plunder of Chitor, still remain. The habitation of the Purohits, or chief priests of the Ranas, a plain, commodious, and substantial edifice, was the next; and close by was that of the Masani,^[12] or master of the horse, with several others of the chief household officers. But the first imposing edifice is that termed Naulakha Bhandar. This is a small citadel in itself, with massive, lofty walls, and towers built entirely of ancient ruins. Its name would import that it was a receptacle (bhandar) for treasure, though it is said to have been the residence of the usurper Banbir. At the north-eastern corner, it has a little temple, richly sculptured, called the Singar Chaori.^[13] From this we pass on to the palace 1817of the Ranas, which, though attributed to Rana Raemall, is of the same character as those of a much higher antiquity. It is plain, capacious, and in excellent taste, the only ornament being its crenated battlements, and gives a good idea of the domestic architecture of the Rajputs, long anterior to the intrusion of the Islamite amongst them. The vaulted chamber, the projecting gaukh or balcony, and the gentle exterior slope or talus of the walls, lend a character of originality to all the ancient structures of Chitor. The industrious Ghasi made sketches for me of all their domestic dwellings, from the ancient abode of Chitrang Mori, down to the mahalls of Jaimall and Patta. A courtyard surrounds the palace, in which there is a small temple to Deoji, through whose interposition Rana Sanga effected all his conquests. This unknown divinity I find is styled one of the eleven kalas, or Mahavidyas, incarnate in the person of a celebrated warrior, named Bhoj, whose father was a Chauhan, and his mother of the Gujar tribe, which originated a new class, called the Bagrawat.^[14] The story of this Deo will add another to the many tales of superstition which are listened to with reverence, and I imagine generally with belief. The incarnate Bagrawat, while on his way to revenge an ancient feud with the Parihars of Ranbinai [760], approached Chitor, and Rana Sanga, aware of his sanctity, paid him all the dues of hospitality; in return for this, the Deoji bestowed a charm upon Sanga, by means of which, so long as he followed the prescribed injunctions, victory was always to attend his steps. It was placed in a small bag, and to be worn round the neck; but he was warned against allowing it to turn towards the back. The Deo had the power of raising the dead, and in order to show the Rana the value of the gift, he put into his hand a peacock’s feather, with which having touched all who were then lying dead in Chitor, they were restored to life! With this new proof of Deoji’s power, Rana Sanga went forth to pursue his conquests, which had extended to the fortress of Bayana, when one day, while bathing in the Pila Khal,^[15] the charm slipped round, and straight a voice was heard, saying, his “mortal foe was at hand!” So impressed are the Sesodias with the truth of this tale, that Deoji has obtained a distinguished niche in their Pantheon; nor in all their poverty has oil been wanting for the lamp which is constantly burning before the 1818Bagrawat chieftain, whose effigy, on a horse painted blue and lance in hand, still attracts their homage. To buy golden opinions, I placed three pieces of silver on the altar of the saint, in the name of the brave Sanga, the worthy antagonist of Babur, the “immortal foe,” who at the Pila Khal at Bayana destroyed the charm of the Deoji.

Krishna Temples.

—On leaving the court of Rana Raemall, we reach two immense temples dedicated to the black god of Vraj: one being erected by Rana Kumbha, the other by his celebrated wife, the chief poetess of that age, Mira Bai, to the god of her idolatry, Shamnath.^[16] We have elsewhere mentioned the ecstasies of this fair votary of the Apollo of the Yamuna, who even danced before his shrine, in which her last moments were passed; and, to complete the picture, so entirely were the effusions both of her heart and pen approved, that “the god descended from his pedestal and gave her an embrace, which extricated the spark of life. ‘Welcome, Mira,’ said the lover of Radha; and her soul was absorbed into his!” This rhapsody is worthy of the fair authoress of the Tika, or sequel to the Gita Govinda,^[17] which is said not to be unworthy even of Jayadeva.

Both these temples are entirely constructed from the wrecks of more ancient shrines, said to have been brought from the ruins of a city of remote antiquity, called Nagari, three coss northward of Chitor.^[18] Near these temples of Kumbh-Syam are two reservoirs, built of large blocks, each one hundred and twenty-five feet long by fifty [761] wide, and fifty deep, said to have been excavated on the marriage of the ‘Ruby of Mewar’ 1819to Achal Khichi of Gagraun, and filled with oil and ghi, which were served out to the numerous attendants on that occasion.

The Pillar of Victory, or Kīrtti-Khambh. —We are now in the vicinity of the Kirtti-Khambh, the pillar erected by Rana Kumbha on his defeat of the combined armies of Malwa and Gujarat.^[19] The only thing in India to compare with this is the Kutb Minar at Delhi; but, though much higher, it is of a very inferior character. This column is one hundred and twenty-two feet in height, the breadth of each face at the base is thirty-five feet, and at the summit, immediately under the cupola, seventeen feet and a half. It stands on an ample terrace, forty-two feet square. It has nine distinct stories, with openings at every face of each story, and all these doors have colonnaded porticos; but it is impossible to describe it, and therefore a rough outline, which will show Ghasi’s notions of perspective, must suffice. It is built chiefly of compact limestone and the quartz rock on which it stands, which takes the highest polish; indeed there are portions possessing the hardness and exhibiting the fracture of jasper. It is one mass of sculpture; of which a better idea cannot be conveyed than in the remark of those who dwell about it, that it contains every object known to their mythology. The ninth khand, or ‘story,’ which, as I have stated, is seventeen feet and a half square, has numerous columns supporting a vault, in which is sculptured Kanhaiya in the Rasmandala (celestial sphere), surrounded by the Gopis or muses, each holding a musical instrument, and in a dancing attitude.^[20] Beneath this is a richly carved scroll fringed with the saras, the phenicopteros^[21] of ornithology. Around this chamber had been arranged, on black marble tablets, the whole genealogy of the Ranas of Chitor; but the Goths have broken or defaced all, save one slab, containing the two following slokas.

1820Sloka 172: “Shaking the earth, the lords of Gujarkhand and Malwa, both the sultans, with armies overwhelming as the ocean, invaded Medpat. Kumbhakaran reflected lustre on the land; to what point can we exalt his renown? In the midst of the armies of his foe, Kumbha was as a tiger, or as a flame in a dry forest.”

Sloka 183: “While the sun continues to warm the earth, so long may the fame of Kumbha Rana endure. While the icy mountains (Himagiri) of the north rest upon their base, or so long as Himachal is stationary, while ocean continues to form a garland round the neck of Avani (the earth), so long may Kumbha’s glory be perpetuated! May the varied history of his sway and the splendour of his dominion last [762] for ever! Seven years had elapsed beyond fifteen hundred when Rana Kumbha placed this ringlet on the forehead of Chitor. Sparkling like the rays of the rising sun, is the toran, rising like the bridegroom of the land.

“In S. 1515, the temple of Brahma was founded, and this year, Vrihaspatiwar (Thursday), the 10th tithi and Pushya Nakshatra, in the month of Magh, on the immovable Chitrakot, this Kirtti stambha was finished. What does it resemble, which makes Chitor look down on Meru with derision? Again, what does Chitrakot resemble, from whose summit the fountains are ever flowing, the circular diadem on whose crest is beauteous to the eye; abounding in temples to the Almighty, planted with odoriferous trees, to which myriads of bees resort, and where soft zephyrs love to play? This immovable fortress (Achal-durga) was formed by Maha-Indra’s own hands.”

How many more Slokas there may have been, of which this is the 183rd, we can only conjecture; though this would seem to be the winding-up.

The view from this elevated spot was superb, extending far into the plains of Malwa. The lightning struck and injured the dome some years ago, but generally there is no semblance of decay, though some shoots of the pipal have rooted themselves where the bolt of Indra fell. It is said to have cost ninety lakhs of rupees, or near a million sterling; and this is only one of the many magnificent works of Rana Kumbha within Chitor; the temples to Krishna, the lake called Kurma Sagar, the temple and fountain to Kukkureswar Mahadeo, having been erected by him. He also raised the stupendous fortifications of Kumbhalmer, to which place the seat of government was transferred. It is 1821asserted that the immense wealth in jewels appertaining to the princes of Gujarat, was captured by Mahmud Begada, when he took Kumbhalmer, whence he carried forty thousand captives.^[22]

Near this is the grand temple of Brahma, erected also by Kumbha, in honour of his father Mokal, whose name it bears, and whose bust is the only object of veneration within.^[23] It would seem as if Kumbha had been a deist, worshipping the Creator alone; though his inspired wife, Mira Bai, seems to have drawn a portion of his regard to Muralidhar, ‘he who holds the flute.’ Adjoining the shrine of the great spirit, is the Charbagh, where the ashes of the heroes, from Bappa down to the founder of Udaipur, are entombed. Many possessed great external interest; but I was forced to be content with what I saw, for the chronicler is dead.

Scene of the Johar.

—Through these abodes of silence, a rugged path leads to a sequestered spot in a deep cleft of the rock, where there is a living fountain, called the Gao-mukh, or 'cow’s [763] mouth,' under the shade of an umbrageous bar tree. On one side of the dell is the subterranean channel called Rani-bhandar, which, it is said, leads to suites of chambers in the rock. This was the scene of the awful Johar, on the occasion of Ala sacking Chitor, when the queens perished in the flames; on which the cavern’s mouth was closed.

Still ascending, I visited the edifices named after Jaimall and Patta, and the shrine of Kalika Devi, esteemed one of the most ancient of Chitor, existing since the time of the Mori, the dynasty prior to the Guhilot.^[24] But the only inscription I discovered was the following:—

“S. 1574 Magh (sudi) 5th, and Revati Nakshatra, the stone-cutters 1822Kalu, Kaimer, and thirty-six others (whose names are added), enlarged the fountain of the sun (Suryakunda), adjacent to the temple of Kalika Devi.” Thence I passed to the vaulted cenotaph of Chonda, the founder of the Chondawats, who surrendered his birthright to please his aged sire. A little further, are the mahalls of Rana Bhim and Padmini. Beyond this, within a stone enclosure, is the place where the victorious Kumbha confined the king of Malwa; and touching it is the mahall of the Raos of Rampura.

Further south is a spot of deep interest: the tank and palace of Chitrang Mori,^[25] the ancient Puar lord of Chitor, whose inscription I have already given. The interior sides of the tank are divided into sculptured compartments, in very good taste, but not to be compared with the works at Barolli, though doubtless executed under the same family. Being now within two hundred yards of the southern bastion, I returned by the mahalls of the once vassals of Chitor, namely, Sirohi, Bundi, Sunth,^[26] Lunawada, to the Chaugan, or ‘field of Mars,’ where the military festival of the Dasahra is yet held by the slender garrison of Chitor. Close to it is a noble reservoir of a hundred and thirty feet in length, sixty-five in width, and forty-seven in depth. It is lined with immense sculptured masses of masonry, and filled with water.

The Jain Pillar.

—Higher up, and nearly about the centre, is a remarkable square pillar, called the Khawasan-sthamba (column).^[27] It is seventy-five feet and a half in height, thirty feet in diameter at the base, and fifteen at the top, and covered with Jain figures. It is very ancient, and I found a fragment of an inscription at its base, which shows that it was dedicated to Adinath, the first of the twenty-four Jain pontiffs: “By Sri Adinath, and the twenty-four 1823Jineswara, Pundarikaksha, Ganesa, Surya, and the nine planets, may you be preserved! S. 952 (A.D. 896) Baisakh (sudi) the 30th, Guruvar (Thursday)” [764].

I found also another old inscription near the very antique temple of Kukkureswar Mahadeo; “S. 811, Mah sudi 5th, Vrihaspativar (Thursday), A.D. 755, Raja Kukkureswar erected this temple and excavated the fountain.”

There are many Jain inscriptions, but amidst the heaps of ruins I was not fortunate enough to make any important discovery. One in the temple of Santnath was as follows; “S. 1505 (A.D. 1449), Sri Maharana Mokal, whose son Kumbhakaran’s treasurer, by name Sah Kola, his son Bhandari Ratna, and wife Bilandevi, erected this shrine to Santnath. The chief of the Khadatara Gachchha, Janraj Sur and apparent successor, Sri Jan Chandra Surji, made this writing.”

Close to the Suraj-pol, or gate in the centre of the eastern face, is an altar sacred to the manes of Sahidas, the chief of the Chondawats, who fell at his post, the gate of the sun, when the city was sacked by Bahadur Shah.

At the north-western face is a castle complete within itself, the walls and towers of which are of a peculiar form, and denote a high antiquity. This is said to be the ancient palace of the Moris and the first Ranas of Chitor. But it is time to close this description, which I do by observing, that one cannot move a step without treading on some fragment of the olden times:

An Old Fakīr.

—Before, however, I quit this spot, hallowed by these remains, I may mention having seen a being who, if there is any truth in Chitrakot, must be a hundred and sixty years old. This wonder is a Fakir, who has constantly inhabited the temples, within the memory of the oldest inhabitants; and there is one carpenter, now upwards of ninety, who recollects “Babaji as an old man and the terror of the children.” To me he did not appear above seventy. I found him deeply engaged at Pachisi with one of the townsfolk. When I was introduced to this extraordinary personage, he looked up at me for an instant, and exclaiming, “What does he want here?” quietly resumed his game. When it was finished, I presented my nazar to the inspired (for madness 1824and inspiration are here synonymous), which he threw amongst the bystanders, and bolted over the ruins, dragging through the brambles a fine shawl some one had presented to him, and which, becoming an impediment, he left there. In these moods none durst molest him, and when inclined for food or pastime his wants were quickly supplied. For one moment I got him to cast his mental eye back [765] upon the past, and he mentioned something of Adina Beg and the Panjab (of which they say he was an inhabitant); but the oracle deigned nothing further.

Udaipur, March 8, 1822.—Here I am once more in the capital of Hindupati (chief of the Hindu race), from which no occurrence shall move me until I go to “eat the air” of my native land. I require repose, for the last fifteen years of my life have been one continuous tissue of toil and accident, such as are narrated in these records of a few of my many wanderings. The bow must be unbent, or it will snap, and the time for journalizing must cease with everything else under the sun. I halted a few days at Merta, and found my house nearly finished, the garden looking beautiful, the aru or peach-tree, the seo or apple, the santara,^[28] narangi, and nimbu, or various orange and lime-trees, all in full blossom, and showing the potent influence of Surya, in these regions; the sharifa or sitaphal (fruit of Sita), or custard-apple, the anar, the kela, pomegranate, plantain, and various indigenous fruits, were all equally forward. These plants are mostly from Agra, Lucknow, or Cawnpore; but some of the finest peaches are the produce of those I planted at Gwalior,—I may say their grandchildren. When I left Gwalior in 1817, I brought with me the stones of several peach-trees, and planted them in the garden of Rang-piyari, my residence at Udaipur; and more delicious or more abundant fruit I never saw. The stones of these I again put in the new garden at Merta, and these again exhibit fruit, but it will require another year to prove whether they maintain the character they held in the plains of Raru, or in this city. The vegetables were equally thriving: I never saw finer crops of Prussian-blues,^[29] of kobis, phul-kobis, or cabbages and cauliflowers, celery, and all that belongs to the kitchen-garden, and which my Rajput friends declare far superior to their indigenous race of sag, or greens; the Diwanji (Rana) has monopolized the celery, 1825which he pronounces the prince of vegetables. I had also got my cutter for the Udaisagar, and we promised ourselves many delightful days, sailing amidst its islets and fishing in its stream. “But in all this was there vanity”: poor Carey lies under the sod; Duncan has been struggling on, and is just about to depart for the Cape of Good Hope; Patrick, who was left at Kotah, writes me dismal accounts of his health and his solitude, and I am left almost alone, the ghost of what I was. “I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour I had laboured to do; and behold all was vanity and vexation of spirit!” And such I fear will it prove with more important works than these amusements of the hour; but it were certain death to stay, and the doctor insists on my sending in ‘a sick certificate,’ and putting my house in order for [766] departure. The month of May is fixed, a resolution which has filled the Rana with grief; but he “gives me leave only for three years, and his sister, Chandji Bai, desires me to bring back a wife that she may love.”

I would willingly have dispensed with the honours of a public entrée; but here, even health must bend to forms and the laws of the Rajputs; and the Rana, Prince Jawan Singh, and all the Sesodia chivalry, advanced to welcome our return. “Ap ghar aye! You have come home!” was the simple and heartfelt expression of the Rana, as he received my reverential salaam; but he kindly looked round, and missed my companions, for Waugh Sahib and Doctor Sahib were both great favourites; and, last but not least, when he saw me bestride Javadia, he asked, “where was Bajraj?” but the ‘royal-steed’ (his gift) was no more, and lies entombed at Kotah. “Hae! hae! alas! alas! (exclaimed Prithinath); bara sochpan balamanukh cha, great grief, for he was a good man.”^[30] The virtues of Bajraj were the subject of conversation until we reached the ‘gate of the sun’ (Surajpol); when the Rana “gave me leave to go home,” and he continued his promenade.

Bajrāj, the Horse.

—Bajraj was worthy of such notice and of his name; he was perfection, and so general a favourite that his death was deemed a public misfortune, for he was as well known throughout all these regions as his master. The general yell of sorrow that burst from all my sepoys and establishment on that 1826event, was astounding, and the whole camp attended his obsequies; many were weeping, and when they began to throw the earth upon the fine beast, wrapped up in his body-clothes, his sais (groom) threw himself into his grave, and was quite frantic with grief. I cut some locks off his mane in remembrance of the noblest beast I ever crossed, and in a few days I observed many huge stones near the spot, which before I left Kotah grew into a noble chabutra, or ‘altar’ of hewn stone about twenty feet square and four feet high, on which was placed the effigy of Bajraj large as life, sculptured out of one block of freestone. I was grateful for the attention, but the old regent had caught the infection, and evinced his sense of the worth of Bajraj by a tomb such as his master cannot expect; but in this case perhaps I divided the interest, though there was no prince of Rajwara more proud of his stud than the blind chief of Kotah. From the days of the Pandus to Dewa-Banga of Bundi, many a war has been waged for a horse; nor can we better declare the relative estimation of the noble animal than in the words of that stalwart Hara to the Lodi king: “There are three things you must not ask of a Rajput, his horse, his mistress, or his sword” [767].

In a few days I shall leave the capital for the villa of the Hara Rani, sister of the Kotah prince, and whose bracelet also I have had, the symbol of adoption as her brother. To all their customs, to all their sympathies, and numerous acts of courtesy and kindness, which have made this not a strange land to me, I am about to bid farewell; whether a final one, is written in that book which for wise purposes is sealed to mortal vision; but wherever I go, whatever days I may number, nor place nor time can ever weaken, far less obliterate, the remembrance of the valley of Udaipur.^[31]

31. By a singular coincidence, the day on which I closed these wanderings is the same on which I have put the last stroke to a work that has afforded me some pleasure and much pain. It was on March 8, 1822, I ended my journey and entered Udaipur: on March 8, 1832, I am transcribing this last page of my journal: in March my book appears before the public: I was born in March; embarked for India in March; and had the last glimpse of its land, the coast of Ceylon, in March. But what changes has not the ever-revolving wheel produced since that time! Captain Waugh returned to England about six months after me; his health much shattered. We met, and lived together, in London, in Belgium, and in France; but amidst all the beauties of novelty, Rajputana was the theme to which we constantly reverted. He returned to India, had just obtained his majority, and was marching in command of his regiment, the 10th Light Cavalry, from Muttra to Mhow, when, in passing through the land where we had seen many happy days together, he was invited by the chief of Duni to renew old recollections by a visit. Though in the highest spirits, my poor cousin went with a presentiment of evil. He was accompanied by some of his officers. In ascending the hill he fell, and sustained an injury which rendered an operation necessary. This succeeded so well, that in two days he proceeded in a litter; when, on arriving at the ground, his friends drew the curtain of his duli, and found him dead! His ashes repose in Mewar, under a monument raised by his brother officers. He did not live to see the completion of these labours, which none but he could fully appreciate. No man was ever more beloved in private life; and the eulogium passed upon him, but two days ago, by his old friend and commander, the gallant General Sir Thomas Brown—“He was one of the best cavalry officers who ever served under me,”—is an honourable testimony to his public career. No apology is required for this record of the talent and worth of one who, in addition to the ties of kindred, was linked to me by the bonds of friendship during twenty years.—March 8, 1832 [768-769].

No. I.

When I was in the presence at Udaipur, you commanded^[2] that Mewar was my home, and that Idar was the portico of Mewar, and to watch the occasion for obtaining it. From that time I have been on the look-out. Your agent, Mayaram, has again written regarding it, and Dilpat Ras read the letter to me verbatim, on which I talked over the matter with Maharaja Abhai Singh, who, acquiescing in all your views, has made a nazar of the pargana to you, and his writing to this effect accompanies this letter.

The Maharaja Abhai Singh petitions that you will so manage that the occupant Anand Singh does not escape alive; as, without his death, your possession will be unstable;^[3] this is in your hands. It is my wish, also, that you would go in person, or if you deem this inexpedient, command the Dhabhai Naga, placing a respectable force under his orders, and having blocked up all the passes, you may then slay him. Above all things, let him not escape—let this be guarded against.

The Pargana of Idar is in Maharaja Abhai Singh’s jagir, who 1829makes a nazar of it to the Huzur; should it be granted to any other, take care the Mansabdar never gains possession.

No. II.

TREATY between the Honourable English East-India Company and Maharaja Maun Sing Buhadoor, Raja of Joudpoor, represented by the Koowur Regent Joograj Maharaj Koowur Chutter Sing Buhadoor, concluded by Mr. Charles Theophilus Metcalfe on the part of the Honourable Company, in virtue of powers granted by his Excellency the Most Noble the Marquess of Hastings, K.G., Governor-General, and by Byas Bishen Ram and Byas Ubhee Ram on the part of Maharaja Maun Sing Buhadoor, in virtue of full powers granted by the Maharaja and Joograj Maharaj Koowur aforesaid.

First Article.—There shall be perpetual friendship, alliance, and unity of interest between the Honourable English East-India Company and Maharaja Maun Sing and his heirs and successors; and the friends and enemies of one party shall be friends and enemies of both.

Second Article.—The British Government engages to protect the principality and territory of Joudpoor.

Third Article.—Maharaja Maun Sing and his heirs and successors will act in subordinate co-operation with the British Government, and acknowledge its supremacy; and will not have any connexion with other chiefs and states.

Fourth Article.—The Maharaja and his heirs and successors will not enter into negotiation with any chief or state without the knowledge and sanction of the British Government. But his usual amicable correspondence with friends and relations shall continue.

Fifth Article.—The Maharaja and his heirs and successors will not commit aggressions on any one. If by accident disputes arise with any one, they shall be submitted to the arbitration and award of the British Government.

Sixth Article.—The tribute heretofore paid to Sindia by the state of Joudpoor, of which a separate schedule is affixed, shall be paid in perpetuity to the British Government; and the engagement of the state of Joudpoor with Sindia respecting tribute shall cease.

Seventh Article.—As the Maharaja declares that besides the tribute paid to Sindia by the state of Joudpoor, tribute has not been paid to any other state, and engages to pay the aforesaid 1830tribute to the British Government; if either Sindia or any one else lay claim to tribute, the British Government engages to reply to such claim.

Eighth Article.—The state of Joudpoor shall furnish fifteen hundred horse for the service of the British Government whenever required; and when necessary, the whole of the Joudpoor forces shall join the British army, excepting such a portion as may be requisite for the internal administration of the country.

Ninth Article.—The Maharaja and his heirs and successors shall remain absolute rulers of their country, and the jurisdiction of the British Government shall not be introduced into that principality.

Tenth Article.—This treaty of ten articles having been concluded at Dihlee, and signed and sealed by Mr. Charles Theophilus Metcalfe and Byas Bishen Ram and Byas Ubhee Ram; the ratifications of the same by his Excellency the Governor-General, and by Raj Rajeesur Maharaja Maun Sing Buhadoor and Jugraj Maharaj Koowur Chutter Sing Buhadoor, shall be exchanged within six weeks from this date.

No. III.

TREATY between the Honourable English East-India Company and Maha Rawul Moolraj Buhadoor, Raja of Jessulmer, concluded on the part of the Honourable Company by Mr. Charles Theophilus Metcalfe, in virtue of full powers granted by his Excellency the Most Noble the Marquess of Hastings, K.G., Governor-General, etc., and on the part of the Maha Raja Dehraj Maha Rawul Moolraj Buhadoor by Misr Motee Ram and Thakoor Dowlet Sing, according to full powers conferred by Maha Rawul.

First Article.—There shall be perpetual friendship, alliance, and unity of interests between the Honourable English Company and Maha Rawul Moolraj Buhadoor, the Raja of Jessulmer, and his heirs and successors.

Second Article.—The posterity of Maha Rawul Moolraj shall succeed to the principality of Jessulmer.

Third Article.—In the event of any serious invasion directed towards the overthrow of the principality of Jessulmer, or other danger of great magnitude occurring to that principality, the 1831British Government will exert its power for the protection of the principality, provided that the cause of the quarrel be not ascribable to the Raja of Jessulmer.

Fourth Article.—The Maha Rawul and his heirs and successors will always act in subordinate co-operation with the British Government, and with submission to its supremacy.

Fifth Article.—This treaty of five articles having been settled, signed, and sealed by Mr. Charles Theophilus Metcalfe and Misr Motee Ram and Thakoor Dowlet Sing, the ratifications of the same by his Excellency the Most Noble the Governor-General and Maha Raja Dehraj Maha Rawul, Moolraj Buhadoor, shall be exchanged in six weeks from the present date.

No. IV.

TREATY between the Honourable English East-India Company and Maharaja Siwaee Juggut Singh Buhadoor, Raja of Jypoor, concluded by Mr. Charles Theophilus Metcalfe, on the part of the Honourable Company, in virtue of full powers granted by his Excellency the Most Noble the Marquess of Hastings, K.G., Governor-General, etc., and by Thakoor Rawul Byree Saul Nattawut, on the part of Raj Rajindur Sree Maharaj Dhiraj Siwaee Juggut Singh Buhadoor, according to full powers given by the Raja.

First Article.—There shall be perpetual friendship, alliance, and unity of interests between the Honourable Company and Maharaja Juggut Singh, and his heirs and successors, and the friends and enemies of one party shall be the friends and enemies of both parties.

Second Article.—The British Government engages to protect the territory of Jypoor, and to expel the enemies of that principality.

Third Article.—Maharaja Siwaee Juggut Singh, and his heirs and successors, will act in subordinate co-operation with the British Government, and acknowledge its supremacy; and will not have any connexion with other chiefs and states [772].

Fourth Article.—The Maharaja, and his heirs and successors, will not enter into negotiation with any chief or state without the knowledge and sanction of the British Government; but the usual amicable correspondence with friends and relations shall continue.

1832Fifth Article.—The Maharaja and his heirs and successors will not commit aggressions on any one. If it happen that any dispute arise with any one, it shall be submitted to the arbitration and award of the British Government.

Sixth Article.—Tribute shall be paid in perpetuity by the principality of Jypoor to the British Government, through the treasury of Dihlee, according to the following detail:—

First year, from the date of this treaty, in consideration of the devastation which has prevailed for years in the Jypoor country, tribute excused.

Afterwards eight lakhs of Dihlee rupees annually, until the revenues of the principality exceed forty lakhs.

And when the Raja’s revenue exceeds forty lakhs, five-sixteenths of the excess shall be paid in addition to the eight lakhs above mentioned.

Seventh Article.—The principality of Jypoor shall furnish troops according to its means, at the requisition of the British Government.

Eighth Article.—The Maharaja and his heirs and successors shall remain absolute rulers of their country, and their dependants, according to long-established usage; and the British civil and criminal jurisdiction shall not be introduced into that principality.

Ninth Article.—Provided that the Maharaja evince a faithful attachment to the British Government, his prosperity and advantage shall be favourably considered and attended to.

Tenth Article.—This treaty of ten articles having been concluded, and signed and sealed by Mr. Charles Theophilus Metcalfe and Thakoor Rawul Byree Saul Nattawut, the ratifications of the same, by his Excellency the Most Noble the Governor-General, and Raj Rajindur Sree Maharaj Dhiraj Siwaee Juggut Singh Buhadoor, shall be mutually exchanged within one month from the present date.

No. V.

TREATY between the Honourable the English East-India Company on the one part, and Maha Rao Omed Sing Buhadoor, the Raja of Kota, and his heirs and successors, through Raj Rana Zalim Sing Buhadoor, the administrator of the affairs of that principality, on the other; concluded on the part of the Honourable English East-India Company by Mr. Charles Theophilus Metcalfe, in virtue of full powers granted to him by his Excellency the Most Noble the Marquess of Hastings, K.G., Governor-General, and on the part of Maha Rao Omed Sing Buhadoor, by Maha Raja Sheodan Sing, Sah Jeewun Ram, and Lala Hoolchund, in virtue of full powers granted by the Maha Rao aforesaid, and his administrator, the above-mentioned Raj Rana.

First Article.—There shall be perpetual friendship, alliance, and unity of interests between the British Government on the one hand, and Maha Rao Omed Sing Buhadoor, and his heirs and successors, on the other.

Second Article.—The friends and enemies of either of the contracting parties shall be the same to both.

Third Article.—The British Government engages to take under its protection the principality and territory of Kota.

Fourth Article.—The Maha Rao, and his heirs and successors, will always act in subordinate co-operation with the British Government, and acknowledge its supremacy, and will not henceforth have any connexion with the chiefs and States with which the State of Kota has been heretofore connected.

Fifth Article.—The Maha Rao, and his heirs and successors, will not enter into any negotiations with any chief or State without the sanction of the British Government. But his customary amicable correspondence with friends and relations shall continue.

Sixth Article.—The Maha Rao, and his heirs and successors, will not commit aggressions on any one; and if any dispute accidentally arise with any one, proceeding either from acts of the Maha Rao, or acts of the other party, the adjustment of such disputes shall be submitted to the arbitration of the British Government.

Seventh Article.—The tribute heretofore paid by the principality of Kota to the Mahratta chiefs, for instance, the Peshwa, Sindia, Holkar, and Powar, shall be paid at Dihlee to the British Government for ever, according to the separate schedule annexed.

Eighth Article.—No other power shall have any claim to tribute from the principality of Kota; and if any one advance such a claim, the British Government engages to reply to it.

Ninth Article.—The troops of the principality of Kota, according to its means, shall be furnished at the requisition of the British Government.

1834Tenth Article.—The Maha Rao, and his heirs and successors, shall remain absolute rulers of their country, and the civil and criminal jurisdiction of the British Government shall not be introduced into that principality.

Eleventh Article.—This treaty of eleven articles having been concluded at Dihlee, and signed and sealed by Mr. Charles Theophilus Metcalfe on the one part, and Maha Raja Sheodan Sing, Sah Jeewun Ram, and Lala Hoolchund on the other, the ratifications of the same by his Excellency the Most Noble the Governor-General, and Maha Rao Omed Sing, and his administrator Raj Zalim Sing, shall be exchanged within a month from this date.

No. VII.

TREATIES between the Honourable English East-India Company and the Maha Row Raja Bishen Sing Buhadoor, Raja of Boondee, concluded by Captain James Tod on the part of the Honourable Company, in virtue of full powers from his Excellency the Most Noble the Marquess of Hastings, K.G., Governor-General, etc., etc., and by Bohora Tolaram on the part of the Raja, in virtue of full powers from the said Raja.

First Article.—There shall be perpetual friendship, alliance, and unity of interests between the British Government on the one hand, and the Raja of Boondee and his heirs and successors on the other.

Second Article.—The British Government takes under its protection the dominions of the Raja of Boondee.

Third Article.—The Raja of Boondee acknowledges the supremacy of, and will co-operate with, the British Government for ever. He will not commit aggressions on any one. He will not enter into negotiations with any one without the consent of the British Government. If by chance any dispute arise with any one, it shall be submitted to the arbitration and award of the British Government. The Raja is absolute ruler of his dominions, and the British jurisdiction shall not be introduced therein.

Fourth Article.—The British Government spontaneously remits to the Raja and his descendants the tribute which the Raja used to pay to Maharaja Holkar, and which has been ceded by the Maharaja Holkar to the British Government; the British Government also relinquishes in favour of the State of Boondee the lands 1835heretofore held by Maharaja Holkar within the limits of that State, according to the annexed schedule (No. 1).

Fifth Article.—The Raja of Boondee hereby engages to pay to the British Government the tribute and revenue heretofore paid to Maharaja Sindia, according to the schedule (No. 2).

Sixth Article.—The Raja of Boondee shall furnish troops at the requisition of the British Government according to his means.

Seventh Article.—The present treaty of seven articles having been settled at Boondee, and signed and sealed by Captain James Tod and Bohora Tolaram, the ratifications of the same by his Excellency the Most Noble the Governor-General and the Maha Row Raja, of Boondee, shall be exchanged within one month from the present date.

Done at Boondee, this tenth day of February, A.D. 1818; corresponding to the fourth of Rubbee-ool-Sanee 1233, and fifth day of Maug Soodee of the Sumbut, or Aera of Bikramajeet, 1874 [775].

Transcriber’s Note

As noted in the Editor’s introduction to Volume I, the spelling of names and places is variable, as the system of transliteration underwent many changes in the intervening century. The use of macrons was not yet introduced in James Tod’s day. The bold-faced section titles were apparently added by the editor, who did employ the macron. This text, with very few exceptions, follows the text as printed.

Hyphenation of compound words follows the text, with the rare exception of when it occurs on a line break and the preponderance of other instances provides clear guidance.

In the Index, on occasion, the reader is referred to a related topic, which does not appear in the Index. These remain unlinked.

Footnoted references on p. 1369 et seq to sections 6 and 8 of the Treaty given in Appendix V would seem to be incorrect. The provisions in Appendix IV conform with the discussion. Appendix V. had not been included in this printing, deemed to be too large.

Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here.

This list contains issues in the main text. References are to the page and line in the original.

ix.21	The Chauhans obtain Mahish[v/m]ati	Replaced.
xvii.5	B[a/i]rslabas	Replaced.
1258.10.10	from the position of that State[.]	Added.
1259.13.13	with the deserts of Arachosia[.]	Added.
1317.14.14	Alahyar-ka[ /-]Tanda	Replaced.
1357.19.19	from which a chan[g/c]e of redemption is now offered	Replaced.
1361.6.6	he contributed not a little[.]	Added.
1365.2.2	a greater loss, in his estimation[,] even	Restored.
1409.2.2	levied contributions at Singh[h]ana	Removed.
1443.27.27	or ‘nine habitations of the desert,’ assigned him[.]	Added.
1447.14.14	Mānik[a] Rāē.	Added.
1585.3.3	was not to die with hi[n/m].	Replaced.
1626.28.28	to the collector for the crown[,/.]	Replaced.
1755.36.36	His cap is the frust[r]um of a cone	Removed.
1765.11.11	Whir[l]pools of the Chambal.	Inserted.

The following list contains issues corrected or noted in the footnote text. The reference is to the original page, the resequenced note number, and the line within the note.

1266.1.3	Abu-l[ /-]Fazl says	Replaced.
1280.3.1	(Hobson-Jobson, 2nd ed. 379 f.[)]	Added.
1301.1.3	by Malik Muhammad Din (1908), i. 47 ff.[)].	Removed.
1341.38.2	Oriental Biographical Dict. 193[)].	Removed.
1355.2.4	(BG, i. Part i. 180 f., 182 f., ix. Part ii. 26, note.[}]	Added.
1369.1.1	Appendix, No. [I]V.	Added.
1371.1.2	(Rājputāna Gazetteer, 1879, i. 216.[)]	Added.
1388.1.2	(Manucci iii. 257; BG, xxiv. 314.[)]	Added.
1458.1.26	(ASR, i. Introd. xviii. note[)].	Added.
1468.3.8	its new appellation of Kishor Sagar[.]	Added.
1468.3.15	to return to his wife and kin[.]	Added.
1500.2.1	[About 10 miles N. of Būndi city[.]	Added.
1618.4.3	For an account of the Jet[t/h]i wrestlers	Replaced.
1663.1.5	[(]For human “scape-goats” of this kind	Added.
1801.1.6	for the year ending June 30, 1905[)].	Added.

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Colonel Tod and his Jain Guru	Frontispiece

	TO FACE PAGE

Raghubīr Singh, Māhārāo Rāja of Būndi	1441

City of Kotah from the East	1521

Country Seat of the Kotah Prince	1530

Palace and Fortress of Būndi	1710

Fragment from the Ruins of Barolli	1752

Outline of a Temple to Mahadeva at Barolli	1754

Sculptured Niche on the Exterior of the Temple at Barolli	1756

Ceiling of the Portico of Temple at Barolli	1758

Remains of an Ancient Temple at Barolli, near the Chambal	1760

Temples of Ganga Bheva in the Forest of Pachail in Mewar	1766

Smaller Group of Temples of Ganga Bheva	1768

Image of the Snake King at the Fountain of the Amjar	1770

Cave Temples of Dhamnar	1776

Entrance to the Sanctuary of a Temple at Chandravati	1784

Sculptured Foliage in Chandravati Temple	1786

Sculptured Ceilings of Temple at Chandravati	1788

Columns of Chandravati Temples	1790

Entrance to the Sanctuary of a Temple at Chandravati	1792

Ruins of Bhīm’s Chaori in the Mukunddara Pass	1794

Ancient Columns in the Mukunddara Pass	1796

Temples of Menāl in Mewār	1800

Second Group of Temples of Menāl in Mewār	1802

Jaistambha, Pillar of Victory	1820

Columns in the Fortress of Chitor	1822

Rajar-ki-basti Samaicha-ki-do		(2 do.). (2 do.).
Rajar Do. Do. Do. Do. Do.	do. do. do. do. do. do.	(2 do.). (2 do.). (2 do.). (2 do.). (2 do.). (2 do.).

Khairpur (Sohrab-ka-)	8		Six coss from the Indus.
Gumat	8		The coss in this distance seems a medium between the pakka of two coss and the kachha of one and a half. The medium of one and three quarter miles to each coss, deducting a tenth for windings, appears, after numerous comparisons, to be just. This is alike applicable to all Upper Sind.
Ranipur	2
(See route to it from Garhar).
Hingor	5
Bhiranapur	5
Haliani	1
Kanjara	3
Naushahra	8
Mora	7
Shahpura	3
Daulatpur	3
Mirpur	3		On the Indus. Here Madari crossed to Sehwan, and returned to Mirpur.
Kazi-ka-Got	9		The coss about two miles each; which, deducting one in ten for windings of the road, may be protracted.
Sakrand	11
Hala	7
Khardao	4
Matari	4
Haidarabad	6
Total	145	coss

Nai-ki-basti (4 do.) Gajner (5 do.) Gurha (5 do.) Bitnok (5 do.) Girajsar (8 do.) Narai (4 do.)		Sandy plains; water at all these villages. From Girajsar, the Jaisalmer frontier, the thal, or sand-hills commence, and continue moderate to Bikampur.
Bikampur (9 do.) Mohangarh (16 do.)		Bikampur to Mohangarh, thal or desert all the way, having considerable sand-hills and jungle.

	Coss.		Coss.
Palri	5	Sakrand	3	┐	^[A]
Padshah-ki-basti	6	Nala	0-½	│	This
Udani	5	Makrand	4	│	appears
Mitrao	10	Koka-ki-basti	6	│	very
Mir-ki-khoi	6	The Sind	10	│	circuitous.
Supari	5	Sehwan	0-½	┘
Kambhar-ka-nala	9

	Houses.
Malis, or gardeners	140
Telis, or oilmen, here called Ghanchi	100
Kumhars, or potters	60
Thatheras, or braziers	30
Chhipis, or printers	20
Bankers, merchants, and shopkeepers	1156
Musalman families	936
Khatiks, or butchers	20
Nais, or barbers	16
Kalals, or spirit-distillers	20
Weavers	100
Silk weavers	15
Yatis (Jain priests)	2
Brahmans	100
Gujars	40
Rajputs	5
Bhojaks ^[20]	20
Minas	60
Bhils	15
Sweetmeat shops	8
Ironsmiths and carpenters (Lohars and Sutars)	14
Churiwalas, or bracelet-manufacturers	4

Total of this route, 79 coss.	Ikhtyar	to	Ahmadpur	18 coss
		”	Khanpur	5 ”
		”	Sultanpur	8 ”

1. Girdhar	Had Khandela and Rewasa.
2. Larkhan	” Kachriawas.
3. Bhojraj	” Udaipur.
4. Tirmall Rao	” Kasli and eighty-four villages.
5. Parasuram	” Bai.
6. Harramji	” Mundari.
7. Tajkhan	” No appanage.

	Rupees.
Lachhman Singh, of Sikar, including Khandela	800,000
Abhai Singh, of Khetri, including Kotputli, given by Lord Lake	600,000
Shyam Singh, of Baswa, including his brother Ranjit’s share of 40,000 (whom he killed)	190,000
Gyan Singh, of Nawalgarh, including Mandao, each fifty villages	70,000
1427Lachhman Singh, Mendsar, the chief sub-infeudation of Nawalgarh	30,000
Tain and its lands, divided amongst the twenty-seven great-grandsons of Zorawar Singh, eldest son of Sadhu	100,000
Udaipurvati	100,000
Manoharpur ^[25]	30,000
Larkhanis	100,000
Harramjis	40,000
Girdharpotas	40,000
Smaller estates	200,000
	2,300,000
	[429.]

	Rupees.
Sadhanis	200,000
Fatehpur	64,000
Udaipur and Babhai	22,000
Kasli	4,000
	350,000

1. Kama ^[10]	Taken by General Perron, for his master Sindhia; since rented to the Jats, and retained by them.
2. Khori
3. Pahari1433
4. Kanti			Seized by the Macheri Rao [now in Alwar State]
5. Ukrod
6. Pandapan
7. Ghazi-ka-thana
8. Rampara (karda)
9. Ganwnri
10. Reni
11. Parbeni
12. Mozpur Harsana
13. Kanod or Kanaund ^[11] 14. Narnol			Taken by De Boigne and given to Murtaza Khan, Baraich, confirmed in them by Lord Lake.
15. Kotputli		Taken in the war of 1803-4, from the Mahrattas, and given by Lord Lake to Abhai Singh of Taken in the war of 1803-4, from the Mahrattas, Khetri.
16. Tonk 17. Rampura		Granted to Holkar by Raja Madho Singh; confirmed in sovereignty to Amir Khan by Lord Hastings.

			Rupees.
Managed by the Raja, or rented			2,055,000
Deori taluka, expenses of the queen’s household			500,000
Shagirdpesha, servants of the household			300,000
Ministers, and civil officers			200,000
Jagirs for the Silahposh, or men-at-arms			150,000
Jagirs to army, namely, ten battalions of infantry with cavalry			714,000
Total Fiscal Land				3,919,000
	Feudal lands (of Jaipur Proper)			1,700,000
	Udak,^[12] or charity lands, chiefly to Brahmans			1,600,000
	Dan and Mapa, or transit and impost duties of the country			190,000
	Kachahri, of the capital, includes town-duties,fines, contributions, etc., etc.			215,000
	Mint			60,000
	Hundi-bara, insurance, and dues on bills of exchange			60,000
	Faujdari, or commandant of Amber (annual fine)			12,000
	Do. do. of city Jaipur			8,000
	Bid’at, petty fines from the Kachahri, or hall of justice			16,000
	Sabzimandi, vegetable market			3,000
	Total Lakhs			7,783,000
Tribute		Shaikhavati	350,000
		Rajawat and other feudatories of Jaipur ^[13]	30,000
		Kothris of Haraoti ^[14]	20,000
Total Tribute			400,000
	Add Tribute			400,000
Grand Total			Rs.	8,183,000

Sons of Prithiraj.		Names of Families.	Names of Fiefs.	Present Chiefs.	Revenues.	Personal Quotas.
1. Chhattarbhuj		Chhattarbhujot	Pinar and
			Bhagru	Bagh Singh	18,000	28
2. Kalyan		Kalyanot	Lotwara	Ganga Singh	25,000	47
3. Nathu		Nathawat	Chaumun	Kishan Singh	115,000	205
4. Balbhadar		Balbhadarot	Achrol	Kaim Singh	28,850	57
5. Jagmall his son Khangar	}	Khangarot	Thodri	Prithi Singh	25,000	40
6. Sultan		Sultanot	Chandsar	—	—	—
7. Pachain		Pachainot	Sambra	Sali Singh	17,700	32
8. —		Gugawat	Dhuni	Rao Chand Singh	70,000	88
9. Kaim		Kumbhani	Banskoh	Padam Singh	21,535	31
10. Kumbha		Kumbhawat	Mahar	Rawat Sarup Singh	27,538	45
11. Surat		Sheobaranpota	Nindar	Rawat Hari Singh	10,000	19
12. Banbir		Banbirpota	Balkoh	Sarup Singh	19,000	35

	Names of Clans.	Number of Fiefs in each Clanship or Clan.	Aggregate Revenue.	Aggregate Quotas.
12 ^[20]	Chhattarbhujot	6	53,800	92
	Kalyanot	19	245,196	422
	Nathawat	10	220,800	371
	Balbhadarot	2	130,850	157
	Khangarot	22	402,806	643
	Sultanot	—	—	—
	Pachainot	3	24,700	45
	Gugawat	13	167,900	278
	Kumbhani [or Kumani]	2	23,787	35
	Kumbhawat	6	40,738	68
	Sheobaranpota	3	49,500	73
	Banbirpota	3	26,5756	48
4 ^[21]	Rajawat	16	198,137	392
	Naruka^[21]	6	91,069	92
	Bankawat	4	34,600	53
	Puranmallot	1	34,600	19
10 ^[22]	Bhatti	4	104,039	205
	Chauhan	4	30,500	61
	Bargujar	6	32,000	58
	Chandarawat	1	14,000	21
	Sakarwar	2	4,500	8
	Gujars	3	15,300	30
	Rangras	6	291,105	549
	Khatris	4	120,000	281
	Brahmans	12	312,000	606
	Musalman	9	141,400	274

						┌	Or Agnipala, ‘offspring of fire,’
						│	the first Chauhan; probable period 650
						│	before Vikrama, when an invasion
			Anhal			┤	of the Turushkas took place;
						│	established Mahishmati-nagari
						│	(Garha-mandala); conquered the
						└	Konkan, Asir, Golkonda.
			Savacha

			Malan			┌	In all probability this is the patriarch
						└	of the Mallani tribe, see p. 1272.
			Ganal Sur
						┌	Or universal potentate; founder of
						│	Ajmer. Same authorities say, in
S. 202		Ajaipala Chakravartin				┤	202 of the Vikrama; others of the
						│	Virat-Samvat: the latter is the
						└	most probable.
						┌	Slain, and lost Ajmer, on the first
			Dhola Rae			┤	irruption of the Muhammadans, S.
						└	741, A.D. 685.
						┌	Founded Sambhar: hence the title
S. 741			Manika Rae			┤	of Sambhari-Rao borne by the
						└	Chauhan princes, his issue.
S. 827			Harsraj			┌	Defeated Nasiru-d-din (qu. Sabuktigin?), '
						└	thence styled 'Sultan-graha.
			Bir Bilandeo			┌	Or Dharmagaj; slain defending
						└	Ajmer against Mahmud of Ghazni.
S. 1065 to						┌	(Classically, Visaladeva); his period,
1130			Bisaldeo			┤	from various inscriptions, S. 1066
						└	to S. 1130.
			Sarangdeo				Died in nonage.

			Ana			┌	Constructed the Ana-Sagar at
						└	Ajmer; still bears his name.

	Jaipal.			Harspal.


	Ajaideo,		Bijaideo.		Udaideo.
	or
	Ananddeo.


Someswar:			Kan Rae.		Jeth, Goelwal.
married Ruka Bai,
daughter of Anangpal
Tuar king of Delhi.
			Isardas;
			turned Muhammadan.


Prithiraj;			Chahirdeo.
obtained Delhi; slain by
Shihabu-d-din, S. 1249,
A.D. 1193.
			Vijaya Raj.		┌	Adopted successor to Prithiraj; his
					└	name is on the pillar at Delhi.

				┌	Had twenty-one sons; seven of whom were legitimate,
Rainsi;				│	the others illegitimate, and founders of mixed tribes.
slain in the sack			Lakhansi	┤	From Lakhansi there are twenty-six generations to
of Delhi.				│	Noniddh Singh, the present chieftain of Nimrana, the
				└	nearest lineal descendant of Ajaipal and Prithiraj.

Grain Measure of Rajputana.	—75	pounds	= 1 ser [? 1·7 lbs. The
		standard ser is a little over 2 lbs.]
	43	sers	= 1 maund.
	12	maunds	= 1 mauni.
	100	maunis	= 1 manasa.

(L.S.) C. T. Metcalfe.	(Signed)	Misr Motee Ram.
	(L.S.)	Thakoor Dowlet Sing.
	(Signed)	C. T. M.

	(Signed)	(L.S.)	C. T. Metcalfe,
			Resident.
(L.S.) Taukoor Rawul Byree Saul Nattawut.

Establishments—namely, feeding cattle and servants, tear and wear of gear, and clearing the fields—one-eighth of the gross amount,^[7] or	400,000
Seed	600,000
Replacing 4000 oxen annually, at 20s.^[8]	80,000
Extras	20,000
	1,100,000

1627
	Rupees.
Hasil, or rent	10
Seed of one bigha	20
Gor, or stirring up the earth with spuds, eight times before reaping, sixteen men each time, at two annas to each	16
Two men at the well, at four rupees each per month, for twelve months	96 ^[6]
Two oxen, feeding, etc.	18
Paring and cutting forty thousand canes, at four annas per thousand	10
Placing canes in the mill, clothes to the men, besides one ser of sugar out of every maund	20
Shares of all the village establishment; say, if the bigha yields fifty maunds, of which they are entitled to one-fifth	40
Wood	2
	238
A bigha will yield as much as eighty maunds of sugar,^[7] though fifty is esteemed a good crop; it sells at about four rupees per maund, or	200
Leaving the cultivator minus	38

	Rupees.
Surplus profit on the opium, seven sers of opium, at four rupees per ser	28
One hundred and fifty maunds of grain, of both harvests, of which one-third to the Raj, leaves one hundred maunds, at one rupee each maund	100
	128
Deduct deficiency on cane	38
Profit left, after feeding, men and cattle, etc., etc.	90

	Sangram.	─────	Sheo Singh.	─────	Surthan Singh
	│		│		│
His children massacred			Jai Singh.		Nahar Singh.
at Sheogarh.					│
					Man Singh.

Indu (the moon)	1
Paksheo (the two fortnights)	2
Netra (the three eyes of Siva)	3
Veda (the four holy books)	4
Sar (the five arrows of Kamdeo, or Cupid)	5
Shashth (the six seasons, of two months each)	6
Jaladhi (the seven seas, or Samudras)	7
Sidah	8
Nidh (the nine planets)	9
Dik (the ten corners of the globe)	10
Rudra (a name of Siva)	11
Arka (the sun)	12

(Signed)	(L.S.)	C. T. Metcalfe, Resident.
		Byas Bishen Ram.
	(L.S.)	Byas Ubhee Ram [771].

Second year	Four lakhs of Dihlee rupees.
Third year	Five lakhs.
Fourth year	Six lakhs.
Fifth year	Seven lakhs.
Sixth year	Eight lakhs.

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, v. 3 of 3

ANNALS AND ANTIQUITIES OF RAJASTHAN

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

BOOK VIII SKETCH OF THE INDIAN DESERT

CHAPTER 1

Description of the Desert.

Boundaries of the Desert.

Natural Divisions of the Desert.

Oasis.

The Lost River of the Desert.

The Lūni River.

The Rann of Cutch.

Thal, Rūi.

Thal of the Luni.

Jālor.

Sīwāna.

Machola, Morsin.

Bhīnmāl, Sānchor.

Bhadrājan.

Mewa.

Bālotra, Tīlwāra.

Īndhāvati.

Gūgadeo ka Thal.

Tararoi.

Khawar.

Mallināth, Bārmer.

Kherdhar.

Jūna Chhotan.

Nagar Gurha.

CHAPTER 2

The Chauhān Rāj.

History of the Chauhāns.

Chief Towns.

Nagar Pārkar.

Bakhasar.

Tharād.

Face of the Chauhān Rāj.

Water Production.

Inhabitants.

Kolis and Bhils.

Dhāt and Umrasūmra.

The Horrors of Humāyūn’s March.

Dhāt.

Aror, Umarsūmra.

Aror.

Umarkot.

The Fate of the Sodha Tribe. Assassination of Mīr Bijar.

Chor.

Tribes.

The Nayyāds.

The Sodha Tribe.

The Kaurava Tribe.

The Dhāti Tribe.

The Lohāna Tribe.

The Arora Tribe.

The Bhātia Tribe.

Brāhmans.

The Rabāri Tribe.

Jat Tribes.

The Sahariya Tribe.

The Khosa Tribe.

The Samaicha Tribe.

The Rājar Tribe.

The Umar Sūmra Tribe.

The Kalhora, Tālpuri Tribes.

Nūmri, Lūmri, or Lūka Tribe.

The Mer, Mair Tribe.

The Mor, Mohor Tribe.

The Tāwari, Thori, or Tori Tribe.

Johya, Dahya, Mangalia Tribes.

Dāūdputra, Bahāwalpur State.

Diseases.

Famines.

Productions, Animal and Vegetable.

The Wild Ass.

Rojh or Nilgae, Lions, etc.

Domestic Animals.

Shrubs and Fruits.

Grasses.

ANNALS AND ANTIQUITIES
OF
RAJASTHAN

BOOK VIII
SKETCH OF THE INDIAN DESERT

BOOK IX
ANNALS OF AMBER,^[1] OR DHŪNDHĀR

SHAIKHĀWAT FEDERATION
CHAPTER 5