CHAPTER 28

=Nāndla.=—_November 19._—We broke ground for Nandla, distant six miles. The first two miles from the capital was through deep sand; for the remainder of the journey the red sandstone protruded, which gives some relief to the footing of the traveller. About half-way we passed a small sheet of water, called after the mother of the pretender, Dhonkal Singh, the Shaikhawat Talao. This lady has constructed a dharmsala, or ‘hall for travellers,’ on its bank, where she has erected a statue of Hanuman, and a pillar to commemorate her own good works. Not a shrub of any magnitude occurs, for even the stunted khair[4.28.1] is rare in this plain of sand; which does not, however, appear unfavourable to the moth,[4.28.2] a vetch on which they feed the cattle. Near the village we crossed the Jogini, the same stream which we passed between Jhalamand and the capital, and which, joined by the Nagda from Mandor, falls into the Luni. The only supply of water for Nandla is procured from two wells dug on the margin of the stream. The water is abundant, and only four feet from the surface, but brackish. There are a hundred and twenty-five houses in Nandla, which is in the fief of the chieftain of Ahor. A few cenotaphs are on the banks of a tank, now dry. I went to look at them, but they contained names “unknown to fame.”

=Bīsalpur.=—Bisalpur, the next place, is distant six estimated coss of the country, and [737] thirteen miles one furlong by the perambulator: heavy sand the whole way. Nevertheless we saw traces of the last autumnal crop of bajra and juar, two species of millet, which form the chief food of the people of the desert; and the vetch was still in heaps. Bisalpur is situated on a rising ground; the houses are uniform in height and regularly built, and coated with a compost of mud and chaff, so that its appearance is picturesque. It is protected by a circumvallation of thorns, the _kanta-ka-kot_ and the stacks of chaff, as described at Indara. They are pleasing to the eye, as is everything in such a place which shows the hand of industry. There was an ancient city here in former days, which was engulfed by an earthquake, though part of a gateway and the fragment of a wall still mark its site. No inscriptions were observed. The water is obtained from a lake.

[Illustration:

MEHAJI MANGALIA. Rock Sculptures at Mandor. _To face page 850._ ]

=Pachkalia, Bīchkalia.=—_November 21._—Pachkalia, or Bichkalia, five coss (11 miles 5 furlongs): crossed and encamped on the Jojri. The soil improving, of a brown sandy texture. Wheat and barley of excellent quality are grown on the banks of the river. It was a relief to meet once more a babul or a nim tree; even our Godwar cypress reared its head on the margin of the Jojri. Although now only containing a hundred houses, this was once a place of some importance. I found a defaced inscription, in which “the son of Sonang, S. 1224,” was still legible; but the mercenary Pathans have ruined the harvest of the antiquary. The village is a grant in fee to a Bhatti chieftain. Water is obtained from wells excavated on the margin of the river.

=Pīpār.=—_November 22._—Pipar, four coss (8 miles 2 furlongs). Pursued the course of the river, the most extended arm of the Luni, coming from the hills near Parbatsar, on the frontiers of Jaipur. Its course is marked by the trees already mentioned. The soil, a mixture of black earth and sand, is termed _dhamani_. Pipar is a town of 1500 houses, one-third of which are inhabited by the Oswals of the Jain faith, the chief merchants of all their country. There are also about two hundred families of Mahesris, or merchants of the Saiva caste. Pipar carries on a considerable traffic, and has a chintz manufactory, which employs thirty families. It is in the grant of the feudal chief of Nimaj, whose death has been already related. A cenotaph, dedicated to one of his ancestors, has been half destroyed by the Goths of India. Pipar is celebrated in the traditions of the desert as one of the cities [738] founded by Gandharvasen, the Pramara monarch of Avanti, prior to the Christian era.[4.28.3] The only inscription I discovered was in a temple of the sea-goddess Lakshmi. It bore the names of Bijai Singh and Delanji, Rajputs of the Guhilot race, with the ancient title of Rawal. It was a happy confirmation of the most ancient chronicle of Mewar, which divides the Guhilots into twenty-four _sakha_ or branches, of which one is called ‘Piparia,’ doubtless from their having conquered this tract from the Takshak Pramara.

There is an abundance of wells, from sixty to eighty feet in depth. Of one recently excavated, I obtained the following details of the strata, which may be gratifying to the geologist. The first twenty feet are composed entirely of that kind of earth called _dhamani_, chiefly decomposed sandstone with a mixture of black earth, in which occurs a stratum of bluish clay mixed with particles of quartz: this earth is called _morar_ in Marwar, and _morand_ in Jaipur. It was then necessary to cut through a rock of red granite[4.28.4] for thirty feet; then several feet of an almost milk-white steatite, succeeded by stalactitic concretions of sandstone and quartz.

=Legend of the Sāmpu Lake.=—Good water is also obtained from a lake called the Sampu, which is connected with the tradition of the foundation of Pipar. A Brahman of the Pali tribe, whose name was Pipa, was in the habit of carrying milk to a deity of the Serpent (Takshak) race, whose retreat was on the banks of this lake, and who deposited two pieces of gold in return for the Paliwal’s offering. Being compelled to go to Nagor, he gave instructions to his son to perform his charitable office; but the youth, deeming it a good opportunity to become master of the treasure, took a stick with him, and when the serpent issued forth for his accustomed fare, he struck him violently; but the snake being “scotched, not killed,” retreated to his hole. The young Brahman related his adventure to his mother; when the good woman, dreading the vengeance of the serpentine deity, prepared a servant and bullock to convey her son to his father at Nagor. But what was her horror in the morning, when she went to call the youth, to find, instead of him, the huge serpent coiled up in his bed! Pipa, on his return, was inconsolable; but stifling his revenge, he propitiated the serpent with copious libations of milk. The scaly monster was conciliated, and revealed the stores he guarded to Pipa, commanding him to raise a monument which would transmit a knowledge of the event to future ages [739]. Hence Pipar arose from Pipa the Pali, and the name of the lake Sampu, from his benefactor the ‘serpent’ (sampa). All these allegorical tales regard the Takshak races, the followers of the religion of Buddha or Jaina, and their feuds with the Brahmanical sects. It is evident that Pipa the Pali worshipped both; and the very name induces a belief that the whole Paliwal caste are converts from Buddhism.[4.28.5]

=Lākha Phulāni.=—There is a kund or fountain, called after Lakha Phulani, who ruled in ancient times at Phulra, in the farther corner of the desert, but carried his arms even to the ocean. Wherever I have travelled, tradition is loud in praise of Phulani, from the source of the Luni to its embouchure in the Delta of the Indus.[4.28.6]

=Mādreo.=—_November 23._—Madreo, five coss (10 miles 2 furlongs). Roads good; soil as yesterday, but the country very desolate; only stunted shrubs since we removed from the margin of the river. This is a moderate-sized village, with a tank of good water.

=Bharūnda.=—_November 24._—Bharunda, four coss, or eight miles. The face of the country now changes materially; our route was over a low undulating ridge of sandstone, in which the stunted shrubs of this region find a bed. At one time the elevation was sufficiently great to allow the chasm through which the road passed to be dignified with the name of the Ghasuria Pass, in which a party of the Raja’s men is posted for defence, and the levy of transit duties. Bharunda is in the fief of Gopal Singh, the chief of Kuchaman, one of the most conspicuous of the Mertia clan. It consists of one hundred and fifty houses; the cultivators are Jats, as are those of all the preceding villages.

I paid a visit to the humble cenotaphs of Bharunda; one of them bore the name of Badan Singh, a sub-vassal of Kuchaman, who was slain in the heroic charge against De Boigne’s brigades, in the patriot field of Merta. His name claims the admiration of all who esteem loyalty and patriotism, the inherent virtues of the chivalrous Rajput. Raja Bijai Singh had resumed Bharunda, when the Thakur [740] retired to the adjacent court of Jaipur, where he was well received according to the hospitable customs of the Rajput, and had risen to favour at the period when the Mahrattas invaded his _bapota_, ‘the land of his fathers.’ Resentment was instantly sacrificed at the altar of patriotism; he put himself at the head of one hundred and fifty horse, and flew to his sovereign’s and his country’s defence. Unhappily, the whole Mahratta army interposed between him and his countrymen. To cut their way through all impediments was the instant resolve of Badan and his brave companions. They fell sword in hand upon a multitude; and, with the exception of a few, who forced their way (amongst whom was the chief whose monument is referred to), they were cut to pieces. Badan Singh lived to reach his ancient estate, which was restored to his family in token of his sovereign’s gratitude for the gallant deed. It is valued at seven thousand rupees annual rent, and has attached to it, as a condition, the service of defending this post. There was another small altar erected to the manes of Partap, who was killed in the defence of this pass against the army of Aurangzeb.

=Indāwar.=—_November 25._—Indawar, five coss (10 miles 2 furlongs). This place consists of two hundred houses; the cultivators are Jats. I have said little of these proprietors of the soil, a sturdy, independent, industrious race, who “venerate the plough,” and care little about the votaries of Mars or their concerns, so that they do not impose excessive taxes on them. They are a stout, well-built, though rather murky race. The village is assigned to the ex-prince of Sind, who derives his sole support from the liberality of the princes of Marwar. He is of the tribe called Kalhora,[4.28.7] and claims descent from the Abbassides of Persia. His family has been supplanted by the Talpuris, a branch of the Numris (the foxes) of Baluchistan, who now style themselves Afghans, but who are in fact one of the most numerous of the Getae or Jat colonies from Central Asia. But let us not wander from our subject.

I will beg the reader to descend seventy or eighty feet with me to view the stratification of Indawar. First, three feet of good soil; five feet of red sandy earth, mixed with particles of quartz; six feet of an unctuous indurated clay;[4.28.8] [741]—then follows a sand-rock, through which it was necessary to penetrate about sixty feet; this was succeeded by twenty feet of almost loose sand, with particles of pure quartz embedded; nodules and stalactitic concretions of sandstone, quartz, and mica, agglutinated together by a calcareous cement. The interior of the well throughout this last stratum is faced with masonry: the whole depth is more than sixty-five cubits, or forty yards. At this depth a spring of excellent water broke in upon the excavators, which supplies Indawar.

=Merta.=—_November 26._—Merta, four coss (9 miles 1 furlong). The whole march was one extended plain; the Aravalli towering about twenty-five miles to our right. To the west a wide waste, consisting of plains gently undulating, and covered with grass and underwood. Natural sterility is not the cause of this desert aspect, for the soil is rich; but the water is far beneath the surface, and they cannot depend upon the heavens. Juar, moth, and sesamum were cultivated to a considerable extent in the immediate vicinity of the villages, but the product had this season been scanty. The appearance of the town is imposing, its site being on a rising ground. The spires of the mosque which was erected on the ruins of a Hindu temple by the tyrant Aurangzeb overtop the more ponderous and unaspiring mandirs which surround it. Notwithstanding, this monarch was the object of universal execration to the whole Hindu race, more especially to the Rathors (whose sovereign, the brave Jaswant, together with his elder son, he put to death by poison, and kept Ajit twenty long years from his birthright, besides deluging their fields with the richest blood of his nobles); still, such is Hindu toleration, that a marble is placed, inscribed both in Hindi and Persian, to protect the mosque from violence. This mark of liberality proceeded from the pretender Dhonkal Singh, as if with a view of catching golden opinions from the demoralized Pathans, by whose aid he hoped to regain his rights. But how was he deceived! His advances were met by the foul assassination, at one fell swoop, of all his party, by the chief of these mercenaries, Amir Khan.

Merta was founded by Rao Duda of Mandor, whose son, the celebrated Maldeo, erected the castle, which he called Malkot.[4.28.9] Merta, with its three hundred and sixty townships, became the appanage of his son Jaimall, and gave its name of Mertia to the bravest of the brave clans of the Rathors. Jaimall [742] was destined to immortalize his name beyond the limits of Maru. Distrusted by his father, and likely to be deserving of suspicion, from the very ruse to which Sher Shah acknowledged he owed his safety, he was banished from Marwar. He was hospitably received by the Rana, who assigned to the heir of Mandor the rich district of Badnor, equalling his own in extent, and far richer in soil than the plains he had abandoned. How he testified his gratitude for this reception, nobler pens than mine have related. The great Akbar claimed the honour of having with his own hand sealed his fate: he immortalized the matchlock with which he effected it, and which was also the theme of Jahangir’s praise, who raised a statue in honour of this defender of Chitor and the rights of its infant prince.[4.28.10] Abu-l-fazl, Herbert, the chaplain to Sir T. Roe, Bernier, all honoured the name of Jaimall; and the chivalrous Lord Hastings, than whom none was better able to appreciate Rajput valour, manifested his respect by his desire to conciliate his descendant, the present brave baron of Badnor.[4.28.11]

The town of Merta covers a large space of ground, and is enclosed with a strong wall and bastions, composed of earth to the westward, but of freestone to the east. All, however, are in a state of decay, as well as the town itself, which is said to contain twenty thousand houses. Like most Hindu towns, there is a mixture of magnificence and poverty; a straw or mud hut adjoins a superb house of freestone, which “shames the meanness” of its neighbour. The castle is about a gun-shot to the south-west of the town, and encloses an area of a mile and a half. Some small sheets of water are on the eastern and western faces. There are plenty of wells about the town, but the water has an unpleasant taste, from filtering through a stiff clay. There are but two strata before water is found, which is about twenty-five feet from the surface: the first a black mould, succeeded by the clay, incumbent on a loose sand, filled with quartzose pebbles of all hues, and those stalactitic concretions which mark, throughout the entire line from Jodhpur to Ajmer, the stratum in which the springs find a current. There are many small lakes around the town, as the Dudasar, or ‘lake (_sar_) of Duda’; the Bejpa, the Durani, the Dangolia, etc.

=The Battlefield.=—The plain of Merta is one continuous sepulchre, covered with altars to the manes of the warriors who, either in the civil wars which have distracted this State [743], or in the more patriotic strife with the southron Goths, have drenched it with their blood. It is impossible to pass over this memorable field without a reference to these acts; but they would be unintelligible without going to the very root of dissension, which not only introduced the Mahratta to decide the intestine broils of the Rajput States, but has entailed a perpetuity of discord on that of Marwar. I have already succinctly related the parricidal murder of Raja Ajit, which arose out of the politics of the imperial court, when the Sayyids of Barha[4.28.12]—the Warwicks of the East—deposed the Emperor Farrukhsiyar, and set up a puppet of their own. With his daughter (whose marriage with the emperor originated, as already recorded, the first grant of land to the East-India Company), he retired to his dominions, leaving his son Abhai Singh at court, and refusing his sanction to the nefarious schemes of the Sayyids. They threatened destruction to Marwar, declaring to the son of Ajit that the only mode of averting its ruin was his own elevation, and his subservience to their views, which object could only be obtained by his father’s deposal and death. Even the reasoning resorted to, as well as the dire purpose of the miscreants, is preserved, and may serve as an illustration of Rajput feeling. When Abhai Singh refused or hesitated, he was asked, “_Ma bap ka sakha, ya zamin ka sakha?_” which, though difficult to render with accuracy, may be translated: “Are you a branch (_sakha_) of the land or of your parents?” As before said, land is all in all to the Rajput; it is preferred to everything: Abhai’s reply may therefore be inferred. Immediate installation was to be the reward of his revenging the Sayyids. That nature could produce from the same stock two such monsters as the brothers who effected the deed, is, perhaps, hardly conceivable, and would, probably, not be credited, were not the fact proved beyond doubt. I should desire, for the honour of the Rajput race, whose advocate and apologist I candidly avow myself, to suppress the atrocious record: but truth is dearer even than Rajput character. Of the twelve sons of Ajit, Abhai Singh and Bakhta Singh were the two elder; both were by the same mother, a princess of Bundi. To Bakhta Singh, who was with his father, the eldest brother wrote, promising him the independent sovereignty of Nagor (where they then were), with its five hundred and fifty-five townships, as the price of murdering their common sire. Not only was the wretch unstartled by the proposition, but he executed the deed with his own hands, under circumstances of unparalleled atrocity. His [744] mother always dreaded the temperament and disposition of Bakhta, who was bold, haughty, impetuous, with a perpetual thirst for action; and she cautioned her husband never to admit him into his presence after dusk, or when unattended. But the Raja, whose physical strength was equal to his bravery, ridiculed her fears, observing, “Is he not my child? Besides, a slap on the face from me would annihilate the stripling.” Upon receiving the note from his brother, Bakhta, after taking leave of his father, concealed himself in a chamber adjoining that where his parents reposed. When all was still the murderer stole to the bed in which lay the authors of his existence, and from a pallet, on which were placed the arms of Ajit, he seized his sword, and coolly proceeded to exhaust those veins which contained the same blood that flowed in his own. In order that nothing might be wanting to complete the deed of horror, the mother was awakened by the blood of her lord moistening her bosom. Her cries awoke the faithful Rajputs who lay in the adjacent apartments, and who, bursting into the chamber, discovered their prince and father dead: “Treason had done its worst.” The assassin fled to the roof of the palace, barring the gates behind him, which resisted all attempts to force them until morning, when he threw into the court below the letter of his brother, exclaiming, “This put the Maharaja to death, not I.” Abhai Singh was now their sovereign; and it is the actual occupant of the throne whom the Rajput deems entitled to his devotion. Eighty-four Satis took place on this dire occasion, the parent of these unnatural regicidal and parricidal sons leading the funeral procession. So much was Ajit beloved, that even men devoted themselves on his pyre. Such was the tragical end of the great Ajit, lamented by his chiefs, and consecrated by the bard, in stanzas in honour of him and in execration of the assassins; which afford proof of the virtuous independence of the poetic chronicler of Rajasthan.

_Bakhta, Bakhta, bāhira, Kyūn māryo Ajmāl[4.28.13] Hindwāni ro sevro Turkāni ka sāl?_

“Oh Bakhta, in evil hour Why slew you Ajmāl, The pillar of the Hindu, The lance of the Turk?” [745][4.28.14]

=The Sons of Ajīt Singh.=—Bakhta Singh obtained Nagor; and Abhai Singh was rewarded with the viceroyalty of Gujarat, which gift he repaid by aiding in its partition, and annexing the rich districts of Bhinmal, Sanchor, and others, to Marwar; on which occasion he added Jalor to the domain of his brother Bakhta, or, as the bard styles him, _bad-bakhta_, ‘the unfortunate.’ This additional reward of parricide has been the cause of all the civil wars of Marwar.

We may slightly notice the other sons of Ajit, whose issue affected the political society of Rajputana. Of these,

Devi Singh was given for adoption to Maha Singh, head of the Champawat clan, he having no heirs. Devi Singh then held Bhinmal, but which he could not retain against the Koli tribes around him, and Pokaran was given in exchange. Sabal Singh, Sawai Singh, and Salim Singh (whose escape from the fate of the chieftain of Nimaj has been noticed) are the lineal issue of this adoption.

Anand Singh, another son of Ajit, was in like manner adopted into the independent State of Idar, and his issue are heirs-presumptive to the throne of Marwar.

=Effects of Adoption.=—From these races we derive the knowledge of a curious fact, namely, that the issue of the younger brother maintains a claim, though adopted into a foreign and independent State; while all such claims are totally extinguished by adoption into a home clan. Under no circumstances could the issue of Devi Singh sit on the _gaddi_ of Marwar; when adopted into the Champawat clan, he surrendered all claims derived from his birth, which were merged into his vassal rank. Still the recollection must give weight and influence; and it is evident from the boast of the haughty Devi Singh, when his head was on the block, that there is danger in these adoptions.

Abhai Singh died, leaving a memorial of his prowess in the splendid additions he made to his territories from the tottering empire of Delhi. He was succeeded by his son Ram Singh, on whose accession his uncle Bakhta sent his aged foster-mother, an important personage in Rajwara, with the _tika_ and gifts, and other symbols of congratulation. Ram Singh, who had all the impetuosity of his race, received the lady-ambassador with no friendly terms, asking her if his uncle had no better messenger to salute his new sovereign. He refused the gifts, and commanded her to tell his uncle to surrender Jalor. The offended dame [746] extenuated nothing of the insolence of the message. The reply was, however, courteous, implying that both Jalor and Nagor were at his disposal. The same sarcastic spirit soon precipitated matters between them in the following manner.

Kusal Singh of Awa, the premier noble of Marwar, and of all the clans of Champawat, more brave than courtly, was short in stature, sturdy, boorish, and blunt; he became the object of his young sovereign’s derision, who used to style him the _gurji gandhak_, or ‘turnspit dog,’ and who had once the audacity to say, “Come, gurji”; when he received the laconic reproof: “Yes; the gurji that dare bite the lion.”

[Illustration:

PAIKS OF MĀRWĀR _To face page 860._ ]

Brooding over this merited retort, he was guilty of another sarcasm, which closed the breach against all reconciliation. Seated one day in the garden of Mandor, he asked the same chief the name of a tree. “The champa,” was the reply, “and the pride of the garden, as I am of your Rajputs.” “Cut it down instantly,” said the prince; “root it out; nothing which bears the name of champa shall exist in Marwar.”

Kaniram of Asop, the chief of the next most powerful clan, the Kumpawat, was alike the object of this prince’s ridicule. His countenance, which was not “cast in nature’s finest mould,” became a butt for his wit, and he would familiarly say to him, ‘_ao budha bandar_,’ “Come along, old monkey.” Boiling with rage, the chief observed, “When the monkey begins to dance, you will have some mirth.” Leaving the court, with his brother chieftain of Awa, they collected their retainers and families, and marched to Nagor. Bakhta Singh was absent, but being advised by his locum tenens of his visitors, and of their quarrel with his nephew, he lost no time in joining them. It is said he expostulated with them, and offered himself as mediator; but they swore never again to look in the face of Ram Singh as their sovereign. They offered to place Bakhta Singh on the _gaddi_ of Jodha; and threatened, if he refused, to abandon Marwar. He played the part of our Richard for a short time; but the habitual arrogance of his nephew soon brought matters to a crisis. As soon as he heard that the two leaders of all his vassals were received by his uncle, he addressed him, demanding the instant surrender of Jalor. Again he had the courtly reply: “He dare not contend against his sovereign; and if he came to visit him, he would meet him with a vessel of water.”[4.28.15] War, a [747] horrid civil war, was now decided on; the challenge was given and accepted, and the plains of Merta were fixed upon to determine this mortal strife, in which brother was to meet brother, and all the ties of kin were to be severed by the sword. The Mertia clans, the bravest, as they are the most loyal and devoted, of all the brave clans of Maru, united to a man under the sovereign’s standard; the chiefs of Rian, Budsa, Mihtri, Kholar, Bhorawar, Kuchaman, Alniawas, Jusari, Bokri, Bharunda, Irwa, Chandarun, collected around them every vassal who could wield a brand. Most of the clans of Jodha, attracted by the name of _swamidharma_, ‘fidelity to their lord,’ united themselves to the Mertias; though a few, as Ladnun, Nimbi, were on the adverse side; but the principal leaders, as Khairwa, Govindgarh, and Bhadrajun, were faithful to their salt. Of the services of others, Ram Singh’s insolence deprived him. Few remained neuter. But these defections were nothing to the loss of a body of five thousand Jareja auxiliaries, whom his connexion with a daughter of the prince of Bhuj brought to his aid. When the tents were moved outside the capital, an incident occurred which, while it illustrates the singular character of the Rajput, may be regarded as the real cause of the loss of sovereignty to Ram Singh. An inauspicious raven had perched upon the _kanat_, or wall of the tent in which was the Jareja queen, who, skilled in the art of the _suguni_[4.28.16] (augur), determined to avert it. Like all Rajputnis, who can use firearms on occasion, she seized a matchlock at hand, and, ere he “thrice croaked,” she shot him dead. The impetuous Raja, enraged at this instance of audacity and disrespect, without inquiry ordered the culprit to be dragged before him; nor was his anger assuaged when the name of the Rani was given. He reviled her in the grossest terms: “Tell the Rani,” he said, “to depart my dominions, and to return from whence she came.” She entreated and conjured him, by a regard to his own safety, to revoke the decree; but all in vain; and with difficulty could she obtain a short interview, but without effecting any change in her obdurate lord. Her last words were, “With my exile from your presence, you will lose the crown of Marwar.” She marched that instant, carrying with her the five thousand auxiliaries whose presence must have ensured his victory.

The Udawat clans, led by their chiefs of Nimaj, Raepur, and Raus, with all [748] the Karansots under the Thakur of Khinwasar, united their retainers with the Champawats and Kumpawats under the banners of Bakhta Singh.

=Battle between Bakhta Singh and Rāja Rām Singh, A.D. 1752.=—Ram Singh’s array fell far short of his rival’s since the defection of the Jarejas; yet, trusting to the name of sovereign as “a tower of strength,” he boldly marched to the encounter, and when he reached the hostile field encamped near the Ajmer gate of Merta. His rival was not long behind, and marshalled his clans within three miles of the northern portal, called the gate of Nagor. The spot he chose had a sacred character, and was called Mataji ka Than, where there was a shrine of the Hindu Hecate, with a fountain said to have been constructed by the Pandavas.

Bakhta Singh commenced the battle. Leaving his camp standing, he advanced against his nephew and sovereign, whom he saluted with a general discharge of his artillery. A vigorous cannonade was continued on both sides throughout the day, without a single man seeking a closer encounter. It is no wonder they paused ere the sword was literally drawn. Here was no foreign foe to attack; brother met brother, friend encountered friend, and the blood which flowed in the veins of all the combatants was derived from one common fountain. The reluctance proceeded from the στοργή, the innate principle of natural affection. Evening advanced amidst peals of cannon, when an incident, which could only occur in an army of Rajputs, stopped the combat. On the banks of the Bejpa lake, the scene of strife, there is a monastery of Dadupanti ascetics, built by Raja Sur Singh. It was nearly midway between the rival armies, and the shot fell so thick amidst these recluses that they fled in a body, leaving only the old patriarch. Baba (father) Kishandeo disdained to follow his disciples, and to the repeated remonstrances from either party to withdraw, he replied, that if it was his fate to die by a shot he could not avert it; if not, the balls were innoxious: but although he feared not for himself, yet his gardens and monastery were not “charmed,” and he commanded them to fight no longer on that ground. The approach of night, and the sacred character of the old abbot Dadupanti, conspired to make both parties obey his commands, and they withdrew to their respective encampments.

The dawn found the armies in battle-array, each animated with a deadly determination. It was Raja Ram’s turn to open this day’s combat, and he led the van against his uncle. Burning with the recollection of the indignities he had [749] suffered, the chief of Awa, determined to show that “the cur could bite,” led his Champawats to the charge against his sovereign. Incited by loyalty and devotion “to the gaddi of Marwar,” reckless who was its occupant, the brave Mertias met his onset steel in hand. The ties of kin were forgotten, or if remembered, the sense of the unnatural strife added a kind of frenzy to their valour, and confirmed their resolution to conquer or die. Here the Mertia, fighting under the eye of this valiant though intemperate prince, had to maintain his ancient fame, as “the first sword of Maru.” There his antagonist, the Champawat, jealous of this reputation, had the like incentive, besides the obligation to revenge the insults offered to his chief. The conflict was awful: the chieftains of each valiant clan met hand to hand, singling out each other by name. Sher Singh, chief of all the Mertias, was the first who sealed his devotion by his death. His place was soon filled by his brother, burning for vengeance. Again he cheered on his Mertias to avenge the death of their lord, as he propelled his steed against the chief of the Champawats. They were the sons of two sisters of the Jaipur house, and had hitherto lived in amity and brotherly love, now exchanged for deadly hate. They encountered, when the “cur” bit the dust, and was borne from the field. The loss of their leaders only inflamed the vassals on both sides, and it was long before either yielded a foot of ground. But numbers, and the repeated charges of Bakhta Singh who led wherever his nephew could be found, at length prevailed; though not until the extinction of the clan of Mertia, who, despising all odds, fought unto the death. Besides their head of Rian, there fell the sub-vassals of Irwa, Sewara, Jusari, and Mithri, with his three gallant sons, and almost all their retainers.

=The Death of the Mīthri Chief.=—There is nothing more chivalrous in the days of Edward and Cressy than the death of the heir of Mithri, who, with his father and brothers, sealed his fealty with his blood on this fatal field. He had long engaged the hand of a daughter of a chief of the Narukas, and was occupied with the marriage rites, when tidings reached him of the approach of the rebels to Merta. The knot had just been tied, their hands had been joined—but he was a Mertia—he unlocked his hand from that of the fair Naruki, to court the Apsaras in the field of battle. In the bridal vestments, with the nuptial coronet (_maur_) encircling his forehead, he took his station with his clan in the second day’s fight, and “obtained a bride in Indra’s [750] abode.”[4.28.17] The bards of Maru dwell with delight on the romantic glory of the youthful heir of Mithri, as they repeat in their Doric verse,

Kānān moti bulbula Gal sonē ki māla Assi kos khariya āya Kunwar Mīthriwala.[4.28.18]

The paraphernalia here enumerated are very foreign to the cavalier of the west: “with pearls shining in his ears, and a golden chaplet round his neck, a space of eighty coss came the heir of Mithri.”

The virgin bride followed her lord from Jaipur, but instead of being met with the tabor and lute, and other signs of festivity, wail and lamentation awaited her within the lands of Mithri, where tidings came of the calamity which at once deprived this branch of the Mertias of all its supporters. Her part was soon taken; she commanded the pyre to be erected; and with the turban and _tora_[4.28.19] which adorned her lord on this fatal day, she followed his shade to the mansions of the sun. I sought out the cenotaph of this son of honour in the blood-stained field; but the only _couronne immortelle_ I could wreathe on the sandy plain was supplied by the Bardai, whose song is full of martial fire as he recounts the gallantry of Kunwar Mithriwala.

The Mertias, and their compeers on the side of the prince, made sad havoc amongst their opponents; and they still maintain that it was owing to the artillery alone that they were defeated. Their brave and loyal leader, Sher Singh of Rian, had fruitlessly endeavoured to recall his brother-in-law from the path of treason, but ineffectually; he spoke with sarcasm of his means to supplant Ram Singh by his uncle. The reply of the old baron of Awa is characteristic: “At least I will turn the land upside down”; to which Sher Singh rejoined, angrily, he would do his best to prevent him. Thus they parted; nor did they meet again till in arms at Merta.

In surveying this field of slaughter, the eye discerns no _point d’appui_, no village or key of position, to be the object of a struggle: nothing to obstruct the doubly-gorged falconet, which has no terrors for the uncontrollable valour of the Rathor; it perceives but a level plain, extended to the horizon, and now covered with the memorials of this day’s strife. Here appears the colonnaded mausoleum, with its airy cupola; there the humble altar, with its simple record of the name, clan, and _sakha_ of him whose ashes repose beneath, with the date of the event [751], inscribed in rude characters. Of these monumental records I had copies made of about a score; they furnish fresh evidence of the singular character of the Rajput.

Ram Singh retired within the walls of the city, which he barricaded; but it being too extensive to afford the chance of defence against the enemy, he formed the fatal resolution of calling to his aid the Mahrattas, who were then rising into notice. At midnight he fled to the south; and at Ujjain found the Mahratta leader, Jai Apa Sindhia, with whom he concerted measures for the invasion of his country. Meantime his uncle being master of the field, repaired, without loss of time, to the capital, where he was formally enthroned; and his _an_ was proclaimed throughout Marwar. As skilful as he was resolute, he determined to meet on his frontier the threatened invasion, and accordingly advanced to Ajmer, in order to interpose between the Mahrattas and Jaipur, whose prince, Isari Singh,[4.28.20] was father-in-law to his rival. He wrote him a laconic epistle, requiring him either instantly to unite with him in attacking the Mahrattas, or declare himself his foe. The Jaipur prince had many powerful reasons for not supporting Raja Bakhta, but he at the same time dreaded his enmity. In this extremity, he had recourse to an expedient too common in cases of difficulty. Concerting with his wife, a princess of Idar (then ruled by one of the sons of Ajit), the best mode of extrication from his difficulties, he required her aid to revenge the foul murder of Ajit, and to recover his son’s right. “In either case,” said he, “the sword must decide, for he leaves me no alternative: against him I have no hopes of success; and if I march to the aid of an assassin and usurper, I lose the good opinion of mankind.” In short, he made it appear that she alone could rescue him from his perils. It was therefore resolved to punish one crime by the commission of another. Isari Singh signified his assent; and to lull all suspicion, the Rathorni was to visit her uncle in his camp on the joint frontier of the three States of Mewar, Marwar, and Amber. A poisoned robe was the medium of revenge. Raja Bakhta, soon after the arrival of his niece, was declared in a fever; the physician was summoned: but the man of secrets, the Vaidya, declared he was beyond the reach of medicine, and bade him prepare for other scenes. The intrepid Rathor, yet undismayed, received the tidings even with a jest: “What, Suja,” said he, “no cure? Why do you take my lands and eat their produce, if you cannot combat my maladies? What is your art good for?” The Vaidya excavated a [752] small trench in the tent, which he filled with water; throwing into it some ingredient, the water became gelid. “This,” said he, “can be effected by human skill; but your case is beyond it: haste, perform the offices which religion demands.” With perfect composure he ordered the chiefs to assemble in his tent; and having recommended to their protection, and received their promise of defending the rights of his son, he summoned the ministers of religion into his presence. The last gifts to the church, and these her organs, were prepared; but with all his firmness, the anathema of the Satis, as they ascended the funeral pyre on which his hand had stretched his father, came into his mind; and as he repeated the ejaculation, “May your corpse be consumed in foreign land!” he remembered he was then on the border. The images which crossed his mental vision it is vain to surmise: he expired as he uttered these words; and over his remains, which were burnt on the spot, a cenotaph was erected, and is still called Bura Dewal, the ‘Shrine of Evil.’

[Illustration:

(1) DURGA DAS. (2) MAHARAJA SHER SINGH OF RIAN. _To face page 866._ ]

But for that foul stain, Raja Bakhta would have been one of the first princes of his race. It never gave birth to a bolder; and his wisdom was equal to his valour. Before the commission of that act, he was adored by his Rajputs. He was chiefly instrumental in the conquests made from Gujarat; and afterwards, in conjunction with his brother, in defeating the imperial viceroy, Sarbuland.[4.28.21] His elevation could not be called a usurpation, since Ram Singh was totally incapacitated, through his ungovernable passions, for sovereign sway; and the brave barons of Marwar, “all sons of the same father with their prince,” have always exercised the right of election, when physical incapacity rendered such a measure requisite. It is a right which their own customary laws, as well as the rules of justice, have rendered sacred. According to this principle, nearly all the feudality of Maru willingly recognized, and swore to maintain, the claims of his successor, Bijai Singh. The Rajas of Bikaner and Kishangarh, both independent branches of this house, gave in their assent. Bijai Singh was accordingly proclaimed and installed at Marot, and forthwith conducted to Merta.

The ex-prince, Ram Singh, accompanied Jai Apa to the siege of Kotah, and subsequently through Mewar, levying contributions as they passed to Ajmer. Here a dispute occurred between the brave Rathor and Sindhia, whose rapacious spirit for plunder received a severe reproof: nevertheless they crossed the frontier [753], and entered Marwar. Bijai Singh, with all the hereditary valour of his race, marched to meet the invaders, at the head of nearly all the chivalry of Maru, amounting to 200,000 men.

=Battle of Merta, about A.D. 1756.=—The first day both armies encountered, they limited their hostility to a severe cannonade and

## partial actions, the inhabitants of Merta supplying the combatants with

food, in which service many were killed; even the recluse Dadupantis ran the risk in this patriotic struggle, and several of the old patriarch’s disciples suffered. The second day passed in the same manner, with many desperate charges of cavalry, in which the Mahrattas invariably suffered, especially from a select body of 5000 select horse, all cased in armour, which nothing could withstand. The superior numerical strength of Ram Singh and his allies compelled Bijai Singh not to neglect the means of retreat. Throughout the first and second days’ combat, the cattle of the train had been kept yoked; on the third, they had carried them to a small rivulet in the rear to water. It was at the precise moment of time when the legion of cuirassiers were returning from a charge which had broken to pieces the Mahratta line, as they approached their friends, the word ‘_daga_’ spread like wildfire; they were mistaken for Ram Singh’s adherents, and a murderous shower of grape opened upon the flower of their own army, who were torn to pieces ere the fatal error was discovered. But such was the impression which this band of heroes had just made on the Mahrattas, that they feared to take advantage of this disaster. A feeling of horror pervaded the army of Bijai Singh, as the choice of their chivalry conveyed the slain and the wounded to the camp. A council of war was summoned, and the aid of superstition came to cool that valour which the Mahrattas, in spite of their numbers, could never subdue. The Raja was young—only twenty years of age; and being prudent as well as brave, he allowed experience to guide him. The Raja of Bikaner, of the same kin and clan, took the lead, and advised a retreat. In the accident related, he saw the hand of Providence, which had sent it to serve as a signal to desist. The Raja had a great stake to lose, and doubtless deemed it wise to preserve his auxiliaries for the defence of his own dominions. It was a case which required the energy of Bakhta: but the wavering opinion of the council soon spread throughout the camp, and was not unobserved by the enemy; nor was it till Bikaner marched off with his aid, towards the close of the day, that any advantage was taken of it [754]. Then Ram Singh at the head of a body of Rajputs and Mahrattas poured down upon them, and ‘_sauve qui peut_’ became the order of the day. To gain Merta was the main object of the discomfited and panic-struck Rathors; but many chiefs with their vassals marched direct for their estates. The guns were abandoned to their fate, and became the first proud trophy the Mahrattas gained over the dreaded Rajputs. The Raja of Kishangarh, also a Rathor, followed the example of his brother prince of Bikaner, and carried off his bands. Thus deserted by his dispirited and now dispersed barons, the young prince had no alternative but flight, and at midnight he took the route of Nagor. In the darkness he mistook the road, or was misled into that of Rain, whose chieftain was the companion of his flight. Calling him by name, Lal Singh, he desired him to regain the right path; but the orders of a sovereign at the head of a victorious army, and those of a fugitive prince, are occasionally received, even amongst Rajputs, with some shades of distinction. The chief begged permission, as he was near home, to visit his family and bring them with him. Too dignified to reply, the young prince remained silent and the Thakur of Rain[4.28.22] loitered in the rear. The Raja reached Kajwana, with only five of his cuirassiers (_silahposh_) as an escort. Here he could not halt with safety; but as he left the opposite barrier, his horse dropped down dead. He mounted another belonging to one of his attendants, and gained Deswal, three miles farther. Here the steeds, which had been labouring throughout the day under the weight of heavy armour, in addition to the usual burden of their riders, were too jaded to proceed; and Nagor was still sixteen miles distant. Leaving his worn-out escort, and concealing his rank, he bargained with a Jat to convey him before break of day to the gate of Nagor for the sum of five rupees. The peasant, after stipulating that the coin should be bijaishahis,[4.28.23] ‘the new currency,’ which still remains the standard, the common car of husbandry was brought forth, on which the king of Maru ascended, and was drawn by a pair of Nagori oxen. The royal fugitive was but little satisfied with their exertions, though their pace was good, and kept continually urging them, with the customary cry of “_hank! hank!_“ The honest Jat, conscious that his cattle did their best, at length lost all temper. Repeating the sounds ”_hank! hank!_” “Who are you,” asked he, “that are hurrying on at this rate? It were more becoming [755] that such a sturdy carl should be in the field with Bijai Singh at Merta, than posting in this manner to Nagor. One would suppose you had the southrons (_dakkhinis_) at your heels. Therefore be quiet, for not a jot faster shall I drive.” Morning broke, and Nagor was yet two miles distant: the Jat, turning round to view more attentively his impatient traveller, was overwhelmed with consternation when he recognized his prince. He leaped from the vehicle, horror-struck that he should have been sitting ‘on the same level’ with his sovereign, and absolutely refused to sin any longer against etiquette. “I pardon the occasion,” said the prince mildly; “obey.” The Jat resumed his seat, nor ceased exclaiming _hank! hank!_ until he reached the gate of Nagor. Here the prince alighted, paid his price of conveyance, and dismissed the Jat of Deswal, with a promise of further recompense hereafter. On that day the enemy invested Nagor, but not before Bijai Singh had dispatched the chief of Harsor to defend the capital, and issued his proclamations to summon the ban of Marwar.

=Resistance of Bijai Singh.=—During six months he defended himself gallantly in Nagor, against which the desultory Mahrattas, little accustomed to the operations of a siege, made no impression, while they suffered from the sallies of their alert antagonist. Encouraged by their inactivity, the young prince, imbued with all the native valour of his race, and impelled by that decisive energy of mind which characterized his father, determined upon a step which has immortalized his memory. He resolved to cut his way through the enemy, and solicit succours in person. He had a dromedary corps five hundred strong. Placing on these a devoted band of one thousand Rajputs, in the dead of night he passed the Mahratta lines unobserved, and made direct for Bikaner. Twenty-four hours sufficed to seat him on the same _gaddi_ with its prince, and to reveal to him the melancholy fact, that here he had no hopes of succour. Denied by a branch of his own house, he resorted to a daring experiment upon the supporter of his antagonist. The next morning he was on his way, at the head of his dromedary escort, to the capital of the Kachhwahas, Jaipur. The “ships of the desert” soon conveyed him to that city. He halted under the walls, and sent a messenger to say that in person he had come to solicit his assistance.

Isari Singh, the son and successor of the great Sawai Jai Singh, had neither the talents of his father, nor even the firmness which was the common inheritance [756] of his race. He dreaded the rival Rathor; and the pusillanimity which made him become the assassin of the father, prompted him to a breach of the sacred laws of hospitality (which, with courage, is a virtue almost inseparable from a Rajput soul), and make a captive of the son. But the base design was defeated by an instance of devotion and resolution, which will serve to relieve the Rajput character from the dark shades which the faithful historian is sometimes forced to throw into the picture. Civil war is the parent of every crime, and severs all ties, moral and political; nor must it be expected that Rajputana should furnish the exception to a rule, which applies to all mankind in similar circumstances. The civil wars of England and France, during the conflicts of the White and Red Roses, and those of the League, will disclose scenes which would suffice to dye with the deepest hues an entire dynasty of the Rajputs. Let such deeds as the following be placed on the virtuous side of the account, and the crimes on the opposite side be ascribed to the peculiarities of their condition.

=Devotion of the Mertias.=—The devoted sacrifice of Sher Singh, the chief of the Mertia clan, has already been recorded. When victory declared against the side he espoused, the victorious Bakhta Singh resumed the estates of Rian from his line, and conferred them on a younger branch of the family. Jawan Singh was the name of the individual, and he was now with the chosen band of the son of his benefactor, soliciting succour from the king of the Kachhwahas. He had married the daughter of the chief of Achrol, one of the great vassals of Jaipur, who was deep in the confidence of his sovereign, to whom he imparted his design to seize the person of his guest and suppliant at the interview he had granted. Aware that such a scheme could not be effected without bloodshed, the Achrol chieftain, desirous to save his son-in-law from danger, under an oath of secrecy revealed the plot, in order that he might secure himself. The Jaipur prince came to the ‘Travellers’ hall’ (_dharmsala_), where the Rathor had alighted; they embraced with cordiality, and seated themselves on the same _gaddi_ together. While compliments were yet passing, the faithful Mertia, who, true to his pledge, had not even hinted to his master the danger that threatened him, placed himself immediately behind the Jaipur prince, sitting, as if accidentally, on the flowing skirt of his robe. The Raja, turning round to the leader of “the first of the swords of Maru,” remarked “Why, Thakur, have you taken a seat in the background to-day?” “The day requires it, Maharaja” [757], was the laconic reply: for the post of the Mertias was the sovereign’s right hand. Turning to his prince, he said, “Arise, depart, or your life or liberty is endangered.” Bijai Singh arose, and his treacherous host made an attempt to follow, but felt his design impeded by the position the loyal chief had taken on his garment, whose drawn dagger was already pointed to his heart, where he threatened to sheathe it if any hindrance was offered to the safe departure of his sovereign, to whom he coolly said, as the prince left the astonished assembly, “Send me word when you are mounted.” The brave Bijai Singh showed himself worthy of his servant, and soon sent to say, “He now only waited for him”: a message, the import of which was not understood by the treacherous Kachhwaha. The leader of the Mertias sheathed his dagger—arose—and coming in front of the Raja, made him a respectful obeisance. The Jaipur prince could not resist the impulse which such devotion was calculated to produce; he arose, returned the salutation, and giving vent to his feelings, observed aloud to his chiefs, “Behold a picture of fidelity! It is in vain to hope for success against such men as these.”

=Bijai Singh returns to Nāgor.=—Foiled in all his endeavours, Bijai Singh had no resource but to regain Nagor, which he effected with the same celerity as he quitted it. Six months more passed away in the attempt to reduce Nagor; but though the siege was fruitless, not so were the efforts of his rival Ram Singh in other quarters, to whom almost all the country had submitted: Marot, Parbatsar, Pali, Sojat had received his flag; and besides the capital and the town he held in person, Jalor, Siwana, and Phalodi were the only places which had not been reduced. In this extremity, Bijai Singh listened to an offer to relieve him from these multiplied difficulties, which, in its consequences, alienated for ever the brightest gem in the crown of Marwar.

=The Assassination of Jai Āpa Sindhia, A.D. 1759.=—A Rajput and an Afghan, both foot-soldiers on a small monthly pay, offered, if their families were provided for, to sacrifice themselves for his safety by the assassination of the Mahratta commander. Assuming the garb of camp-settlers, they approached the headquarters, feigning a violent quarrel. The simple Mahratta chief was performing his ablutions at the door of his tent, and as they approached they became more vociferous, and throwing a bundle of statements of account on the ground, begged he would decide between them. In this manner they came nearer and nearer, and as he listened to their story, one plunged his dagger in his side, exclaiming, “This for Nagor!” and “This for Jodhpur!” said his companion [758], as he repeated the mortal blow. The alarm was given; the Afghan was slain; but the Rajput called out “Thief!” and mingling with the throng, escaped by a drain into the town of Nagor.[4.28.24] Though the crime was rewarded, the Rathor refused to see the criminal. The siege continued, but in spite of every precaution, reinforcements both of men and provisions continued to be supplied. It ill suited the restless Mahratta to waste his time in these desert regions, which could be employed so much more profitably on richer lands: a compromise ensued, in which the cause of Ram Singh was abandoned, on stipulating for a fixed triennial tribute, and the surrender of the important fortress and district of Ajmer in full sovereignty to the Mahratta, in _mundkati_, or compensation for the blood of Jai Apa. The monsoon was then approaching; they broke up, and took possession of this important conquest, which, placed in the very heart of these regions, may be called the key of Rajputana.

The cross of St. George now waves over the battlements of Ajmer,[4.28.25] planted, if there is any truth in political declarations, not for the purpose of conquest, or to swell the revenues of British India, but to guard the liberties and the laws of these ancient principalities from rapine and disorder. It is to be hoped that this banner will never be otherwise employed, and that it may never be execrated by the brave Rajput.

The deserted Ram Singh continued to assert his rights with the same obstinacy by which he lost them; and for which he staked his life in no less than eighteen encounters against his uncle and cousin. At length, on the death of Isari Singh of Jaipur, having lost his main support, he accepted the Marwar share of the Salt Lake of Sambhar, and Jaipur relinquishing the other half, he resided there until his death [759].

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Footnote 4.28.1:

[_Acacia catechu._]

Footnote 4.28.2:

[The aconite-leaved kidney-bean, _Phaseolus aconitifolius_.]

Footnote 4.28.3:

[See p. 913, below.]

Footnote 4.28.4:

Specimens of all these I brought home.

Footnote 4.28.5:

[This seems to be merely an instance of serpent-worship.]

Footnote 4.28.6:

The traditional stanzas are invaluable for obtaining a knowledge both of ancient history and geography:

“Kasyapgarh, Surajpura, Basakgarh, Tako, Udhanigarh, Jagrupura, Jo Phulgarh, i Lakho.”

In this stanza we have the names of six ancient cities in the desert, which belonged to Lakha, the Tako, Tak, or Takshak, _i.e._ of the race figuratively called the ‘serpent.’ [Many tales are told of Lākha Phulāni, who by one account was a Rāo of Cutch, slain fighting in Kāthiāwār (_BG_, v. 133, viii. 111 note). Others identify him with Lakha, son of Phulada, who defeated the Chaulukya king, Mūlarāja, in the eleventh century (_ibid._ i. Part i. 160). By another account, he was father-in-law of the great Siddharāja (Tod, _WI_, 179). He is mentioned twice later on. He was probably a powerful king of the desert, round whom many legends have collected.]

Footnote 4.28.7:

[The Kalhoras, closely allied to the Dāūdputras, rose to power in the Lower Indus valley at the end of the seventeenth century A.D. They trace their origin to Abbās, uncle of the Prophet. They were expelled by Fateh Ali of Tālpur, and the last of the Kalhoras fled to Jodhpur, where his descendants now hold distinguished rank (_IGI_, xxii. 397 ff.).]

Footnote 4.28.8:

Mr. Stokes, of the Royal Asiatic Society, pronounces it to be a steatite.

Footnote 4.28.9:

Rao Duda had three sons, besides Maldeo; namely: First, Raemall; second, Birsingh, who founded Amjera in Malwa, still held by his descendants; third, Ratan Singh, father of Mira Bai, the celebrated wife of Kumbha Rana.

Footnote 4.28.10:

[See Vol. I. p. 382, above.]

Footnote 4.28.11:

See Vol. I. p. 567.

Footnote 4.28.12:

[See Vol. I. p. 467, above.]

Footnote 4.28.13:

The bards give adjuncts to names in order to suit their rhymes: Ajit is the ‘invincible’; Ajmāl, a contraction of Ajayamāl, ‘wealth invincible.’

Footnote 4.28.14:

[Major Luard’s Pandit gives the word in the third line as _sihara_ or _sihra_, the veil worn by the bridegroom to avert the Evil Eye.]

Footnote 4.28.15:

This reply refers to a custom analogous to the Scythic investiture, by offering “water and soil.” [The Kols and other forest tribes deliver a handful of soil to a purchaser of a piece of land (Macpherson, _Memorials of Service_, 64).]

Footnote 4.28.16:

_Sugun pherna_ means to avert the omen of evil.

Footnote 4.28.17:

[The authority quoted by Compton (_Military Adventurers_, 61) speaks of the “serd kopperah wallas” (_zard kaprawāla_, ‘those wearing yellow wedding garments’), as the forlorn hope in the battle.]

Footnote 4.28.18:

[Major Luard’s Pandit reads in the first line _bhalbhala_, ‘a lustre,’ and in the third _kharoho_, ‘rode hard.’]

Footnote 4.28.19:

[A neck ornament.]

Footnote 4.28.20:

[Isari Singh, Mahārāja of Jaipur, A.D. 1742-60.]

Footnote 4.28.21:

[Nawāb Mubārizu-l-mulk, Governor of Gujarāt under Muhammad Shāh, from which office he was removed because he consented to pay blackmail (_chauth_) to the Marāthas. He refused to give up his post, and fell into disgrace. He was afterwards Governor of Allāhābād, and died A.D. 1745 (Beale, _Dict. Oriental Biog._ _s.v._; _BG_, i. Part i. 304 ff.).]

Footnote 4.28.22:

Or _Rahin_ in the map, on the road to Jahil from Merta.

Footnote 4.28.23:

[Coins made in the reign of Bijai Singh (A.D. 1753-93), (Webb, _Currencies of the Hindu States of Rājputāna_, 40).]

Footnote 4.28.24:

[According to Grant Duff (_Hist. Mahrattas_, 310), Bijai Singh, following the infamous example of his father in regard to Pīlaji Gāēkwār, engaged two persons who, on the promise of a rent-free estate (_jāgīr_), went to Jai Āpa as accredited envoys, and assassinated him. Hari Charan Dās (Elliot-Dowson viii. 210) says that the Rājput leader warned Jai Āpa to leave Mārwār. Jai Āpa abused him, and the Rājput killed him by a blow with his dagger. Three of the Rājput party were killed, and three, in spite of their wounds, escaped.]

Footnote 4.28.25:

[Surrendered to the British by Daulat Rāo Sindhia by treaty of June 25, 1818, and occupied by the Agent, Mr. Wilder, on July 28 of the same year.]

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