CHAPTER 29

=Mahādaji Sindhia, A.D. 1759-94. Battle of Lālsot, A.D. 1787.=—Mahadaji Sindhia succeeded to the command of the horde led by his relation, Jai Apa. He had the genius to discover that his southron horse would never compete with the Rajputs, and he set about improving that arm to which the Mahrattas finally owed success. This sagacious chief soon perceived that the political position of the great States of Rajasthan was most favourable to his views of establishing his power in this quarter. They were not only at variance with each other, but, as it has already appeared, were individually distracted with civil dissensions. The interference of the Rana of Udaipur had obtained for his nephew, Madho Singh, the _gaddi_ of Jaipur; but this advantage was gained only through the introduction of the Mahrattas, and the establishment of a tribute, as in Marwar. This brave people felt the irksomeness of their chains, and wished to shake them off. Madho Singh’s reign was short; he was succeeded by Partap, who determined to free himself from this badge of dependence.[4.29.1] Accordingly, when Mahadaji Sindhia invaded his country, at the head of a powerful army, he called on the Rathors for aid. The cause was their own; and they jointly determined to redeem what had been lost. As the bard of the Rathors observes, they [760] forgot all their just grounds of offence[4.29.2] against the Jaipur court, and sent the flower of their chivalry under the chieftain of Rian, whose fidelity has been so recently recorded. At Tonga (the battle is also termed that of Lalsot), the rival armies encountered. The celebrated Mogul chiefs, Ismail Beg and Hamdani, added their forces to those of the combined Rajputs, and gained an entire victory, in which the Rathors had their full share of glory. The noble chief of Rian formed his Rathor horse into a dense mass, with which he charged and overwhelmed the flower of Sindhia’s army, composed of the regulars under the celebrated De Boigne.[4.29.3] Sindhia was driven from the field, and retired to Mathura; for years he did not recover the severity of this day. The Rathors sent a force under the Dhaibhai, which redeemed Ajmer, and annulled their tributary engagement.

=Battle of Pātan, June 20, 1790.=—The genius of General Comte de Boigne ably seconded the energetic Sindhia. A regular force was equipped, far superior to any hitherto known, and was led into Rajputana to redeem the disgrace of Tonga. The warlike Rathors determined not to await the attack within their own limits, but marched their whole force to the northern frontier of Jaipur, and formed a junction with the Kachhwahas at the town of Patan (_Tuarvati_).[4.29.4] The words of the war-song, which the inspiring bards repeated as they advanced, are still current in Marwar; but an unlucky stanza, which a juvenile Charan had composed after the battle of Tonga, had completely alienated the Kachhwahas from their supporters, to whom they could not but acknowledge their inferiority:

_Ūdhalti Amber né rākhi Rāthorān._

“The Rathors guarded the petticoats of Amber.”[4.29.5]

This stanza was retained in recollection at the battle of Patan; and if universal [761] affirmation may be received as proof, it was the cause of its loss, and with it that of Rajput independence. National pride was humbled: a private agreement was entered into between the Mahrattas and Jaipurians, whereby the latter, on condition of keeping aloof during the fight, were to have their country secured from devastation. As usual, the Rathors charged up to the muzzles of De Boigne’s cannon, sweeping all before them: but receiving no support, they were torn piecemeal by showers of grape and compelled to abandon the field. Then, it is recorded, the brave Rathor showed the difference between fighting on _parbhum_, or ‘foreign land,’ and on his own native soil. Even the women, it is averred, plundered them of their horses on this disastrous day; so heart-broken had the traitorous conduct of their allies rendered them. The Jaipurians paid dearly for their revenge, and for the couplet which recorded it:

_Ghoro, joro, pagri, Mūcham Khag Mārwār, Pānch rakam mel līdha Pātan men Rāthor.[4.29.6]_

Verbatim:

“Horse, shoes, turban, Mustachio, sword [of] Marwar, Five things surrendered were At Patan by the Rathor.”

Both these “ribald strains” are still the taunt of either race: by such base agencies are thrones overturned, and heroism rendered abortive!

When the fatal result of the battle of Patan was communicated to Raja Bijai Singh, he called a council of all his nobles, at which the independent branches of his family, the Rajas of Bikaner, Kishangarh, and Rupnagarh, assisted, for the cause was a common one. The Raja gave it as his own opinion, that it was better to fulfil the terms of the former treaty, on the murder of Jai Apa, acknowledge the cancelled tribute, and restore Ajmer, which they had recovered by a _coup de main_. His valorous chieftains opposed the degrading suggestion, and unanimously recommended that they should again try the chances of war ere they signed their humiliation. Their resolution swayed the prince, who issued his summons to every Rathor in his dominions to assemble under their Raja’s banner, once more planted on the ensanguined plains of Merta. A fine army was embodied; not a Rathor who could wield a sword but brought it for service in the cause of his country; and full thirty thousand men assembled on the 10th September 1790, determined to efface the recollections of Patan [762].

=Battle of Merta, September 1790 A.D.=—There was one miscreant of Rathor race, who aided on this occasion to rivet his country’s chains, and his name shall be held up to execration—Bahadur Singh, the chief of Kishangarh. This traitor to his suzerain and race held, jointly with his brother of Rupnagarh, a domain of two hundred and ten townships: not a fief emanating from Marwar, but all by grant from the kings; still they received the _tika_, and acknowledged the supremacy of the head of Jodhpur. The brothers had quarrelled; Bahadur despoiled his brother of his share, and being deaf to all offers of mediation, Bijai Singh marched and re-inducted the oppressed chief into his capital, Rupnagarh. The fatal day of Patan occurred immediately after; and Bahadur, burning with revenge, repaired to De Boigne, and conducted him against his native land. Rupnagarh, it may be supposed, was his first object, and it will afford a good proof of the efficiency of the artillery of De Boigne, that he reduced it in twenty-four hours. Thence he proceeded to Ajmer, which he invested: and here the proposal was made by the Raja for its surrender, and for the fulfilment of the former treaty. Mahadaji in person remained at Ajmer, while his army, led by Lakwa, Jiwa-dada, Sudasheo Bhao, and other Mahratta leaders of horse, with the brigades of De Boigne and eighty pieces of cannon, advanced against the Rathors. The Mahrattas, preceding by one day’s march the regulars under De Boigne, encamped at Natria. The Rathor army was drawn out on the plains of Merta, one flank resting on the village of Dangiwas. Five miles separated the Rathors from the Mahrattas; De Boigne was yet in the rear, his guns being deep sunk in the sandy bed of the Luni. Here a golden opportunity was lost, which could never be regained, of deciding ‘horse to horse’ the claims of supremacy; but the evil genius of the Rathor again intervened: and as he was the victim at Patan to the jealousy of the Kachhwaha, so here he became the martyr to a meaner cause, the household jealousies of the civil ministers of his prince. It is customary in all the Rajput States, when the sovereign does not command in person, to send one of the civil ministers as his representative. Him the feudal chiefs will obey, but not one of their own body, at least without some hazard of dissension. Khub Chand Singwi, the first minister, was present with the Raja at the capital: Gangaram Bhandari and Bhimraj Singwi were with the army. Eager to efface the disgrace of Patan, the two great Rathor leaders, Sheo Singh of Awa, and Mahidas of Asop, who had sworn to free their country or die in the [763] attempt, demanded a general movement against the Mahrattas. This gallant impatience was seconded by all the other nobles, as well as by a successful attack on the foragers of the enemy, in which the Mahrattas lost all their cattle. But it was in vain they urged the raging ardour of their clans, the policy of taking advantage of it, and the absence of De Boigne, owing to whose admirable corps and well-appointed park the day at Patan was lost; Bhimraj silenced their clamour for the combat by producing a paper from the minister Khub Chand commanding them on their allegiance not to engage until the junction of Ismail Beg, already at Nagor. They fatally yielded obedience. De Boigne extricated his guns from the sands of Alniawas, and joined the main body. That night the Bikaner contingent, perceiving the state of things, and desirous to husband their resources to defend their own altars, withdrew. About an hour before day-break, De Boigne led his brigade to the attack, and completely surprised the unguarded Rajputs.[4.29.7] They were awoke by showers of grape-shot, which soon broke their position: all was confusion; the resistance was feeble. It was the camp of the irregular infantry and guns which broke, and endeavoured to gain Merta; and the civil commanders took to flight. The alarm reached the more distant quarters of the brothers-in-arms, the chiefs of Awa and Asop. The latter was famed for the immense quantity of opium he consumed; and with difficulty could his companion awake him, with the appalling tidings, “The camp has fled, and we are left alone!” “Well, brother, let us to horse.” Soon the gallant band of both was ready, and twenty-two chiefs of note drank opium together for the last time. They were joined by the leaders of other clans; and first and foremost the brave Mertias of Rian, of Alniawas, Irwa, Chanod, Govindgarh; in all four thousand Rathors. When mounted and formed in one dense mass, the Awa chieftain shortly addressed them: “Where can we fly, brothers? But can there be a Rathor who has ties stronger than shame (_laj_)? If any one exist who prefers his wife and children to honour, let him retire.” Deep silence was the only reply to this heroic appeal; and as the hand of each warrior was raised to his forehead, the Awa chief gave the word “Forward!” They soon came up with De Boigne’s brigade, well posted, and defended by eighty pieces of cannon. “Remember Patan!” was the cry, as, regardless of showers of grape, this heroic band charged up to the cannon’s mouth, driving everything before them, cutting [764] down the line which defended the guns, and passing on to assault the Mahrattas, who were flying in all directions to avoid their impetuous valour. Had there been a reserve at this moment, the day of Merta would have surpassed that of Tonga. But here the skill of De Boigne, and the discipline of his troops, were an overmatch for valour unsustained by discipline and discretion. The Rathor band had no infantry to secure their victory; the guns were wheeled round, the line was re-formed, and ready to receive them on their return. Fresh showers of shot and grape met their thinned ranks; scarcely one of the four thousand left the field. The chiefs of Asop, Irwa, Chanod, Govindgarh, Alniawas, Morira, and others of lesser note, were among the slain; and upon the heaps of wounded, surrounded by his gallant clan, lay the chief of Awa, pierced with seven-and-twenty wounds. He had lain insensible twenty-four hours, when an old servant, during the night, searched for and found him on the field. A heavy shower had fallen, which increased the miseries of the wounded. Blind and faint, the Thakur was dragged out from the bodies of the slain. A little opiate revived him; and they were carrying him off, when they were encountered by Lakwa’s harkaras in search of chiefs of note; the wounded Thakur was conveyed to the headquarters at Merta. Lakwa sent a surgeon to sew up his wounds; but he disdained the courtesy, and refused all aid, until the meanest of his wounded vassals was attended to. This brave man, when sufficiently recovered, refused all solicitation from his sympathizing foes that the usual rejoicing might be permitted, and that he would shave and perform the ablutions after sickness, till he could see his sovereign. The Raja advanced from his capital to meet him, and lavished encomiums on his conduct. He now took the bath, preparatory to putting on the honorary dress; but in bathing his wounds opened afresh, and he expired.

Bhimraj Singwi received at Nagor, whither he had fled, a letter of accusation from his sovereign, on which he swallowed poison; but although he was indirectly the cause of the defeat, by his supineness, and subsequent disgraceful flight, it was the minister at the capital whose treason prevented the destruction of the Mahrattas: Khub Chand was jealous of Bhimraj; he dreaded being supplanted by him if he returned from Merta crowned with success; and he therefore penned the dispatch which paralysed their energies, enjoining them to await the junction of Ismail Beg [765].

Thus, owing to a scurrilous couplet of a bard, and to the jealousy of a contemptible court-faction, did the valiant Rathors lose their independence—if it can be called lost—since each of these brave men still deems himself a host, when “his hour should come” to play the hero. Their spirit is not one jot diminished since the days of Tonga and Merta.[4.29.8]

=British Policy towards the Rajputs.=—By a careful investigation of the circumstances which placed those brave races in their present political position, the paramount protecting power may be enabled to appreciate them, either as allies or as foes; and it will demonstrate more effectually than mere opinions, from whatever source, how admirably qualified they are, if divested of control, to harmonize, in a very important respect, with the British system of government in the East. We have nothing to dread from them, individually or collectively; and we may engage their very hearts’ blood in our cause against whatever foes may threaten us, foreign or domestic, if we only exert our interference when mediation will be of advantage to them, without offence to [766] their prejudices. Nor is there any difficulty in the task; all honour the peacemaker, and they would court even arbitration if once assured that we had no ulterior views. But our strides have been rapid from Calcutta to Rajputana, and it were well if they credit what the old Nestor of India (Zalim Singh of Kotah) would not, who, in reply to all my asseverations that we wished for no more territory, said, “I believe you think so; but the time will come when there will be but one _sikka_[4.29.9] throughout India. You stepped in, Maharaj, at a lucky time, the _phut_[4.29.10] was ripe and ready to be eaten, and you had only to take it bit by bit. It was not your power, so much as our disunion, which made you sovereigns, and will keep you so.” His reasoning is not unworthy of attention, though I trust his prophecy may never be fulfilled.

=Jharāu.=—_November 28._—Camp at Jharau, five coss (11 miles). On leaving Merta, we passed over the ground sacred to “the four thousand,” whose heroic deeds, demonstrating at once the Rajput’s love of freedom and his claim to it, we have just related. We this day altered our course from the N.N.E., which would have carried us, had we pursued it, to the Imperial city, for a direction to the southward of east, in order to cross our own Aravalli and gain Ajmer. The road was excellent, the soil very fair; but though there were symptoms of cultivation near the villages, the wastes were frightfully predominant; yet they are not void of vegetation: there is no want of herbage or stunted shrubs. The Aravalli towered majestically in the distant horizon, fading from our view towards the south-east, and intercepted by rising grounds.

=The Mirage.=—We had a magnificent mirage this morning: nor do I ever recollect observing this singularly grand phenomenon on a more extensive scale, or with greater variety of form. The morning was desperately cold; the thermometer, as I mounted my horse, a little after sunrise, stood at 32°, the freezing-point, with a sharp biting wind from the north-east. The ground was blanched with frost, and the water-skins, or _bihishtis mashaks_, were covered with ice at the mouth. The slender shrubs, especially the milky _ak_, were completely burnt up; and as the weather had been hitherto mild, the transition was severely felt, by things animate and inanimate [767].

It is only in the cold season that the mirage is visible; the sojourners of Maru call it the _siya-kot_, or ‘castles in the air.’[4.29.11] In the deep desert to the westward, the herdsmen and travellers through these regions style it _chitram_, ‘the picture’; while about the plains of the Chambal and Jumna they term it _disasul_, ‘the omen of the quarter.’ This optical deception has been noticed from the remotest times. The prophet Isaiah alludes to it when he says, “and the parched ground shall become a pool”;[4.29.12] which the critic has justly rendered, “and the _shārāb_h[4.29.13] shall become real water.” Quintus Curtius, describing the mirage in the Sogdian desert, says that “for the space of four hundred furlongs not a drop of water is to be found, and the sun’s heat, being very vehement in summer, kindles such a fire in the sands, that everything is burnt up. There also arises such an exhalation, that the plains wear the appearance of a vast and deep sea”; which is an exact description of the _chitram_ of the Indian desert. But the _shārābh_ and _chitram_, the true mirage of Isaiah, differ from that illusion called the _siya-kot_; and though the traveller will hasten to it, in order to obtain a night’s lodging, I do not think he would expect to slake his thirst there.

When we witnessed this phenomenon at first, the eye was attracted by a lofty opaque wall of lurid smoke, which seemed to be bounded by, or to rise from, the very verge of the horizon. By slow degrees the dense mass became more transparent, and assumed a reflecting or refracting power: shrubs were magnified into trees; the dwarf _khair_ appeared ten times larger than the gigantic _amli_ of the forest. A ray of light suddenly broke the line of continuity of this yet smoky barrier; and, as if touched by the enchanter’s wand, castles, towers, and trees were seen in an aggregated cluster, partly obscured by magnificent foliage. Every accession of light produced a change in the _chitram_, which from the dense wall that it first exhibited had now faded into a thin transparent film, broken into a thousand masses, each mass being a huge lens; until at length the [768] too vivid power of the sun dissolved the vision: castles, towers, and foliage melted, like the enchantment of Prospero, into “thin air.”

I had long imagined that the nature of the soil had some effect in producing this illusory phenomenon; especially as the _chitram_ of the desert is seen chiefly on those extensive plains productive of the _sajji_, or alkaline plant, whence by incineration the natives produce soda,[4.29.14] and whose base is now known to be metallic. But I have since observed it on every kind of soil. That these lands, covered with saline incrustations, tend to increase the effect of the illusion, may be concluded.[4.29.15] But the difference between the _sarāb_ or _chitram_, and the _siya-kot_ or _disasul_ is, that the latter is never visible but in the cold season, when the gross vapours cannot rise; and that the rarefaction, which gives existence to the other, destroys this, whenever the sun has attained 20° of elevation. A high wind is alike adverse to the phenomenon, and it will mostly be observed that it covets shelter, and its general appearance is a long line which is sure to be sustained by some height, such as a grove or village, as if it required support. The first time I observed it was in the Jaipur country; none of the party had ever witnessed it in the British provinces. It appeared like an immense walled town with bastions, nor could we give credit to our guides, when they talked of the _siya-kot_, and assured us that the objects were merely “castles in the air.” I have since seen, though but once, this panoramic scene in motion, and nothing can be imagined more beautiful.

It was at Kotah, just as the sun rose, whilst walking on the terraced roof of the garden-house, my residence. As I looked towards the low range which bounds the sight to the south-east, the hills appeared in motion, sweeping with an undulating or rotatory movement along the horizon. Trees and buildings were magnified, and all seemed a kind of enchantment. Some minutes elapsed before I could account for this wonder; until I determined that it must be the masses of a floating mirage, which had attained its most attenuated form, and being carried by a gentle current of air past the tops and sides of the hills, while it was itself imperceptible, made them appear in motion.

But although this was novel and pleasing, it wanted the splendour of the scene of this morning, which I never saw equalled but once. This occurred at Hissar, where I went to visit a beloved friend—gone, alas! to a better world [769],—whose ardent and honourable mind urged me to the task I have undertaken. It was on the terrace of James Lumsdaine’s house, built amidst the ruins of the castle of Firoz, in the centre of one extended waste, where the lion was the sole inhabitant, that I saw the most perfect specimen of this phenomenon: it was really sublime. Let the reader fancy himself in the midst of a desert plain, with nothing to impede the wide scope of vision, his horizon bounded by a lofty black wall encompassing him on all sides. Let him watch the first sunbeam break upon this barrier, and at once, as by a touch of magic, shiver it into a thousand fantastic forms, leaving a splintered pinnacle in one place, a tower in another, an arch in a third; these in turn undergoing more than kaleidoscopic changes, until the “fairy fabric” vanishes. Here it was emphatically called Harchand Raja ki puri, or ‘the city of Raja Harchand,’ a celebrated prince of the brazen age of India.[4.29.16] The power of reflection shown by this phenomenon cannot be better described than by stating that it brought the very ancient Agroha,[4.29.17] which is thirteen miles distant, with its fort and bastions, close to my view.

The difference then between the mirage and the _siya-kot_ is, that the former exhibits a horizontal, the latter a columnar or vertical stratification; and in the latter case, likewise, a contrast to the other, its maximum of translucency is the last stage of its existence. In this stage, it is only an eye accustomed to the phenomenon that can perceive it at all. I have passed over the plains of Meerut with a friend who had been thirty years in India, and he did not observe a _siya-kot_ then before our eyes: in fact so complete was the illusion, that we only saw the town and fort considerably nearer. Monge gives a philosophical account of this phenomenon in Napoleon’s campaign in Egypt; and Dr. Clarke perfectly describes it in his journey to Rosetta, when “domes, turrets, and groves were seen reflected on the glowing surface of the plain, which appeared like a vast lake extending itself between the city and travellers.” It is on reviewing this account that a critic has corrected the erroneous translation of the Septuagint; and further dilated upon it in a review of Lichtenstein’s travels in Southern Africa,[4.29.18] who exactly describes our _siya-kot_, of the magnifying and reflecting powers of which he gives a [770] singular instance. Indeed, whoever notices, while at sea, the atmospheric phenomena of these southern latitudes, will be struck by the deformity of objects as they pass through this medium: what the sailors term a fog-bank is the first stage of our _siya-kot_. I observed it on my voyage home; but more especially in the passage out. About six o’clock on a dark evening, while we were dancing on the waste, I perceived a ship bearing down with full sail upon us so distinctly, that I gave the alarm, in expectation of a collision; so far as I recollect, the helm was instantly up, and in a second no ship was to be seen. The laugh was against me—I had seen the “flying Dutchman,”[4.29.19] according to the opinion of the experienced officer on deck; and I believed it was really a vision of the mind: but I now feel convinced it was either the reflection of our own ship in a passing cloud of this vapour, or a more distant object therein refracted. But enough of this subject: I will only add, whoever has a desire to see one of the grandest phenomena in nature, let him repair to the plains of Merta or Hissar, and watch before the sun rises the fairy palace of Harchand, infinitely grander and more imposing than a sunrise upon the alpine Helvetia, which alone may compete with the _chitram_ of the desert.

=Cenotaph of a Thākur.=—Jharau is a thriving village appertaining to a sub-vassal of the Mertia chief of Rian. There was a small sheet of water within a musket-shot to the left of the village, on whose margin, peeping through a few nims and the evergreen jhal,[4.29.20] was erected an elegant, though small _chhatri_, or cenotaph, of an ancestor of the possessor. The Thakur is sculptured on his charger, armed at all points; and close beside him, with folded hands, upon the same stone, his faithful partner, who accompanied the warrior to Indra’s abode. It bore the following epitaph: “On the 2d Margsir, S. 1689 (A.D. 1633), Maharaja Jaswant Singh attacked the enemy’s (Aurangzeb’s) army, in which battle Thakur Harankarna Das, of the Mertia clan, was slain. To him was erected this shrine, in the month of Margsir, S. 1697.”

Water from wells is about thirty-five cubits from the surface; the strata as follows: four cubits of mixed sand and black earth; five of kankar, or calcareous concretions; twenty of stiff clay and sand; six of indurated clay, with particles of quartz and mica [771].

=Alniawās.=—_November 29._—Alniawas, five coss. Half-way, passed the town of Rian, so often mentioned as the abode of the chief of the Mertia clan. It is large and populous, and surrounded by a well-constructed wall of the calcareous concrete already described, here called _morar_, and which resists the action of the monsoon. The works have a most judicious slope. The Thakur’s name is Badan Singh, one of the eight great barons of Maru. The town still bears the name of _Sher Singh ka Rian_, who so gallantly defended to the death the rights of his young sovereign Ram Singh against his uncle. A beautiful landscape is seen from the high ground on which the town stands, in the direction of the mountains; the intermediate space being filled with large villages, relieved by foliage, so unusual in these regions. Here I had a proof of the audacity of the mountaineers of the Aravalli, in an inscription on a cenotaph, which I copied: “On Monday the 3d Magh, S. 1835 (A.D. 1779), Thakur Bhopal Singh fell at the foot of his walls, defending them against the Mers, having first, with his own hand, in order to save her honour, put his wife to death.”[4.29.21] Such were the Mers half a century ago, and they had been increasing in boldness ever since. There was scarcely a family on either side the range, whose estates lay at its foot, whose cenotaphs do not bear similar inscriptions, recording the desperate raids of these mountaineers; and it may be asserted that one of the greatest benefits we conferred on Rajputana was the conversion of this numerous banditti, occupying some hundred towns, into peaceful, tax-paying subjects. We can say, with the great Chauhan king, Bisiladeva, whose monument still stands in Firoz’s palace at Delhi, that we made them “carry water in the streets of Ajmer”; and, still more, deposit their arms on the Rana’s terrace at Udaipur. We have, moreover, metamorphosed a corps of them from breakers, into keepers, of the public peace.

Between Rian and Alniawas we crossed a stream, to which the name of the Luni[4.29.22] is also given, as well as to that we passed subsequently. It was here that De Boigne’s guns are said to have stuck fast.

The soundings of the wells at Rian and Alniawas presented the same results as [772] at Jharau, with the important exception that the substratum was steatite, which was so universal in the first part of my journey from Jodhpur.

Alniawas is also a fief of a Mertia vassal. It is a considerable town, populous, and apparently in easy circumstances. Here again I observed a trait of devotion, recorded on an altar “to the memory of Suni Mall,” who fell when his clan was exterminated in the charge against the rival Champawats, at Merta, in the civil wars.

=Govindgarh.=—_November 30._—Govindgarh, distance three coss, or six miles. The roads generally good, though sometimes heavy; the soil of a lighter texture than yesterday. The castle and town of Govinda belong to a feudatory of the Jodha clan; its founder, Govind, was grandson to Udai _le gros_; or, as Akbar dubbed him, the “Mota Raja,” from his great bulk. Of this clan is the chief of Khairwa, having sixteen townships in his fief: Banai, and Masuda, with its “fifty-two townships,” both now in Ajmer; having for their present suzerain the “Sarkar Company Bahadur”; though in lapses they will still go to Jodhpur, to be made “belted knights.” These places are beyond the range; but Pisangan, with its twelve villages; Bijathal, and other fiefs west of it, also in Ajmer, might at all events be restored to their ancient princes, which would be considered as a great boon. There would be local prepossessions to contend with, on the part of the British officers in charge of the district; but such objections must give way to views of general good.

=Fox-hunting: Hyaenas.=—This was another desperately cold morning; being unprovided with a great-coat, I turned the _dagla_, or ‘quilted brocade tunic,’ sent me by the high priest of Kanhaiya, to account. We had some capital runs this morning with the foxes of Maru, which are beautiful little animals, and larger than those of the provinces. I had a desperate chase after a hyaena on the banks of the Luni, and had fully the speed of him; but his topographical knowledge was too much for me, and he at length led me through a little forest of reeds or rushes, with which the banks of the river are covered for a great depth. Just as I was about giving him a spear, in spite of these obstacles, we came upon a blind nullah or ‘dry rivulet,’ concealed by the reeds; and Bajraj (the royal steed) was thrown out, with a wrench in the shoulder, in the attempt to clear it: the _jhirak_ laughed at us.

We crossed a stream half a mile west of Govindgarh, called the Sagarmati [773], which, with another, the Sarasvati, joining it, issues from the Pushkar lake. The Sagarmati is also called the Luni; its bed is full of micaceous quartzose rock. The banks are low, and little above the level of the country. Though water is found at a depth of twelve cubits from the surface, the wells are all excavated to the depth of forty, as a precautionary measure against dry seasons. The stratification here was—one cubit sand; three of sand and soil mixed; fifteen to twenty of yellow clayish sand; four of morar, and fifteen of steatite and calcareous concretions, with loose sand, mixed with particles of quartz.

=Pushkar Lake.=—_December 1._—Lake of Pushkar, four coss: the thermometer stood at the freezing-point this morning:—heavy sands the whole way. Crossed the Sarasvati near Nand; its banks were covered with bulrushes, at least ten feet in height—many vehicles were lading with them for the interior, to be used for the purposes of thatching—elephants make a feast among them. We again crossed the Sarasvati, at the entrance of the valley of Pushkar, which comes from Old (_burha_) Pushkar, four miles east of the present lake, which was excavated by the last of the Pariharas of Mandor. The sand drifted from the plains by the currents of air has formed a complete bar at the mouth of the valley, which is about one mile in breadth; occasionally the _tibas_, or sand-hills, are of considerable elevation. The summits of the mountains to the left were sparkling with a deep rose-coloured quartz, amidst which, on the peak of Nand, arose a shrine to ‘the Mother.’ The hills preserve the same character: bold pinnacles, abrupt sides, and surface thinly covered. The stratification inclines to the west; the dip of the strata is about twenty degrees. There is, however, a considerable difference in the colour of the mountains: those on the left have a rose tint; those on the right are of greyish granite, with masses of white quartz about their summits.

Pushkar is the most sacred lake in India; that of Mansarovar in Tibet may alone compete with it in this respect. It is placed in the centre of the valley, which here becomes wider, and affords abundant space for the numerous shrines and cenotaphs with which the hopes and fears of the virtuous and the wicked amongst the magnates of India have studded its margin. It is surrounded by sand-hills of considerable magnitude, excepting on the east, where a swamp extends to the very base of the mountains. The form of the lake may be called an irregular ellipse. Around its margin, except towards the marshy outlet, is a display of [774] varied architecture. Every Hindu family of rank has its niche here, for the purposes of devotional pursuits when they could abstract themselves from mundane affairs. The most conspicuous are those erected by Raja Man of Jaipur, Ahalya Bai, the Holkar queen, Jawahir Mall of Bharatpur, and Bijai Singh of Marwar. The cenotaphs are also numerous. The ashes of Jai Apa, who was assassinated at Nagor, are superbly covered; as are those of his brother Santaji, who was killed during the siege of that place.

=The Brahma Temple.=—By far the most conspicuous edifice is the shrine of the creator Brahma, erected, about four years ago, by a private individual, if we may so designate Gokul Parik, the minister of Sindhia; it cost the sum of 130,000 rupees (about £15,000), though all the materials were at hand, and labour could be had for almost nothing. This is the sole tabernacle dedicated to the ONE GOD which I ever saw or have heard of in India.[4.29.23] The statue is quadrifrons; and what struck me as not a little curious was that the _sikhar_, or pinnacle of the temple, is surmounted by a cross. Tradition was here again at work. Before creation began, Brahma assembled all the celestials on this very spot, and performed the _Yajna_; around the hallowed spot walls were raised, and sentinels placed to guard it from the intrusion of the evil spirits. In testimony of the fact, the natives point out the four isolated mountains, placed towards the cardinal points, beyond the lake, on which, they assert, rested the _kanats_, or cloth-walls of inclosure. That to the south is called Ratnagir, or ‘the hill of gems,’ on the summit of which is the shrine of Savitri. That to the north is Nilagir, or ‘the blue mountain.’ East, and guarding the valley, is the Kuchhaturgir; and to the west, Sonachaura, or ‘the golden.’ Nandi, the bull-steed of Mahadeva, was placed at the mouth of the valley, to keep away the spirits of the desert; while Kanhaiya himself performed this office to the north. The sacred fire was kindled: but Savitri, the wife of Brahma, was nowhere to be found, and as without a female the rites could not proceed, a young Gujari took the place of Savitri; who, on her return, was so enraged at the indignity, that she retired to the mountain of gems, where she disappeared. On this spot a fountain gushed up, still called by her name; close to which is her shrine, not the least attractive in the precincts of Pushkar. During these rites, Mahadeva, or, as he is called, Bholanath, represented always in a state of stupefaction from the use of intoxicating [775] herbs, omitted to put out the sacred fire, which spread, and was likely to involve the world in combustion; when Brahma extinguished it with the sand, and hence the _tibas_ of the valley. Such is the origin of the sanctity of Pushkar. In after ages, one of the sovereigns of Mandor, in the eagerness of the chase, was led to the spot, and washing his hands in the fountain, was cured of some disorder. That he might know the place again, he tore his turban into shreds, and suspended the fragments to the trees, to serve him as guides to the spot—there he made the excavation. The Brahmans pretend to have a copper-plate grant from the Parihara prince of the lands about Pushkar; but I was able to obtain only a Persian translation of it, which I was heretical enough to disbelieve. I had many grants brought me, written by various princes and chiefs, making provision for the prayers of these recluses at their shrines.

[Illustration:

THE SACRED LAKE OF PUSHKAR IN MARWĀR. _To face page 892._ ]

The name of Bisaladeva, the famed Chauhan king of Ajmer, is the most conspicuous here; and they still point out the residence of his great ancestor, Ajaipal, on the Nagpahar, or ‘serpent-rock,’ directly south of the lake, where the remains of the fortress of the Pali or Shepherd-king are yet visible. Ajaipal was, as his name implies, a goatherd, whose piety, in supplying one of the saints of Pushkar with daily libations of goats’ milk, procured him a territory. Satisfied, however, with the scene of his early days, he commenced his castle on the serpent-mount; but his evil genius knocking down in the night what he erected in the day, he sought out another site on the opposite side of the range: hence arose the far-famed Ajamer.[4.29.24] Manika Rae is the most conspicuous connecting link of the Chauhan Pali kings, from the goatherd founder to the famed Bisaladeva.[4.29.25] Manika was slain in the first century of the Hijra, when “the arms of Walid conquered to the Ganges”; and Bisaladeva headed a confederacy of the Hindu kings, and chased the descendants of Mahmud from Hindustan, the origin of the recording column at Delhi. Bisaladeva, it appears from inscriptions, was the contemporary of Rawal Tejsi, the monarch of Chitor, and grandfather of the Ulysses of Rajasthan, the brave Samarsi, who fell with 13,000 of his kindred in aid of the last Chauhan Prithiraj, who, according to the genealogies of this race, is the fourth in descent from Bisaladeva. If this is not sufficient proof of the era of this king, be it known that Udayaditya, the prince of the Pramaras (the period of [776] whose death, or A.D. 1096, has now become a datum),[4.29.26] is enumerated amongst the sovereigns who serve under the banners of the Chauhan of Ajmer.

=Bhartrihari.=—The ‘serpent-rock’ is also famed as being one of the places where the wandering Bhartrihari, prince of Ujjain, lived for years in penitential devotion; and the slab which served as a seat to this royal saint has become one of the objects of veneration. If all the places assigned to this brother of Vikrama were really visited by him, he must have been one of the greatest tourists of antiquity, and must have lived to an antediluvian old age. Witness his castle at Sehwan, on the Indus; his cave at Alwar; his _thans_ at Abu, and at Benares. We must, in fact, give credit to the couplet of the bards, “the world is the Pramara’s.” There are many beautiful spots about the serpent-mount, which, as it abounds in springs, has from the earliest times been the resort of the Hindu sages, whose caves and hermitages are yet pointed out, now embellished with gardens and fountains. One of the latter issuing from a fissure in the rock is sacred to the Muni Agastya, who performed the very credible exploit of drinking up the ocean.

St. George’s banner waved on a sand-hill in front of the cross on Brahma’s temple, from which my camp was separated by the lake; but though there was no defect of legendary lore to amuse us, we longed to quit “the region of death,” and hie back to our own lakes, our cutter, and our gardens.

=Ajmer.=—_December 2._—Ajmer, three coss. Proceeded up the valley, where lofty barriers on either side, covered with the milky thor (_cactus_),[4.29.27] and the “yellow anwla of the border,” showed they were but the prolongation of our own Aravalli. Granite appeared of every hue, but of a stratification so irregular as to bid defiance to the geologist. The higher we ascended the valley, the loftier became the sand-hills, which appeared to aspire to the altitude of their granitic neighbours. A small rill poured down the valley; there came also a cold blast from the north, which made our fingers tingle. Suddenly we changed our direction from north to east, and ascending the mountain, surveyed through a gap in the range the far-famed Daru-I-Khair. The view which thus suddenly burst upon us was magnificent. A noble plain, with trees, and the expansive lake of Bisaladeva, lay at our feet, while ‘the fortress of the goatherd’ crowned the crest of a majestic isolated hill. The point of descent affords a fine field for the mineralogist; on [777] each side, high over the pass, rise peaks of reddish granite, which are discovered half-way down the descent to be reposing on a blue micaceous slate, whose inclination is westward, at an angle of about 25° with the horizon. The formation is the same to the southward, but the slate there is more compact, and freer from mica and quartz. I picked up a fragment of black marble; its crystals were large and brilliant.

Passed through the city of Ajmer, which, though long a regal abode, does not display that magnificence we might have expected, and, like all other towns of India, exhibits poverty and ease in juxtaposition. It was gratifying to find that the finest part was rising, under the auspices of the British Government and the superintendent of the province, Mr. Wilder. The main street, when finished, will well answer the purpose intended—a place of traffic for the sons of commerce of Rajasthan, who, in a body, did me the honour of a visit: they were contented and happy at the protection they enjoyed in their commercial pursuits. With the prosperity of Bhilwara, that of Ajmer is materially connected; and having no interests which can clash, each town views the welfare of the other as its own: a sentiment which we do not fail to encourage.

Breakfasted with Mr. Wilder,[4.29.28] and consulted how we could best promote our favourite objects—the prosperity of Ajmer and Bhilwara [778].

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Footnote 4.29.1:

[Mādho Singh, A.D. 1760-78: Prithi Singh II. was succeeded within a year by Partāp Singh, 1778-1803.]

Footnote 4.29.2:

_Pat rakhi Partāp ki No koti ka nāth. Gunha agla bagasnē Abē pakriyo hāth._

“The lord of the nine castles preserved the honour of Partāp. He forgave former offences, and again took him by the hand.” [In the third line Major Luard’s Pandit reads _bakhas di_, ‘forgave.’]

Footnote 4.29.3:

“A la gauche la cavalerie rhatore, au nombre de dix mille hommes, fondit sur les bataillons de M. de Boigne malgré le feu des batteries placées en avant de la ligne. Les pièces bien servies opéraient avec succès; mais les Rhatores, avec le courage opiniâtre qui les caractérise, s’acharnaient à poursuivre l’action, et venaient tuer les artilleurs jusques sur leurs pièces. Alors, les bataillons s’avancèrent, et les Rhatores, qui avaient perdu beaucoup de monde, commencèrent à s’ébranler. M. de Boigne, les voyant se retirer en désordre, réclama l’aide du centre; mais les prières et les menaces furent également inutiles: les vingt-cinq bataillons mogols, restés inactifs pendant toute la journée, et simples spectateurs du combat, demeurèrent encore immobiles dans ce moment décisif. Les deux armées se retirèrent après cette action sanglante, qui n’eut aucun résultat.”

Footnote 4.29.4:

[There is some doubt about the exact date. Grant Duff (_Hist. Mahrattas_, 497) fixes it on June 20, 1790. See Erskine’s note (iii. A. 68), which is followed in the margin. For the battle see Compton, _Military Adventurers_, 51 ff.]

Footnote 4.29.5:

[The translation in the text seems to be wrong. The best authorities translate: “But for the Rāthors Amber would have run away.”]

Footnote 4.29.6:

[In this version the first and third lines do not scan. According to Dr. Tessitori, a better text runs:

_Ghoro, joro, pāgri, Mūcham tāni maror, Yān pānchām gun agli, Rājpūti Rāthor._

Footnote 4.29.7:

[See the graphic account in Keene, _Fall of the Mogul Empire_, 205 f.]

Footnote 4.29.8:

Three years ago I passed two delightful days with the conqueror of the Rajputs, in his native vale of Chambéry. It was against the _croix blanche_ of Savoy, not the _orange flag_ of the Southron, that four thousand Rajputs fell martyrs to liberty; and although I wish the Comte long life, I may regret he had lived to bring his talents and his courage to their subjugation. He did them ample justice, and when I talked of the field of Merta, the remembrance of past days flitted before him, as he said “all appeared as a dream.” Distinguished by his prince, beloved by a numerous and amiable family, and honoured by his fellow-citizens, the years of the veteran, now numbering more than fourscore, glide in agreeable tranquillity in his native city, which, with oriental magnificence, he is beautifying by an entire new street and a handsome dwelling for himself. By a singular coincidence, just as I am writing this portion of my narrative I am put in possession of a _Mémoire_ of his life, lately published, written under the eye of his son, the Comte Charles de Boigne. From this I extract his account of the battle of Merta. It is not to be supposed that he could then have been acquainted with the secret intrigues which were arrayed in favour of the “white cross” on this fatal day.

“Les forces des Rajepoutes se composaient de trente mille cavaliers, de vingt mille hommes d’infanterie régulière, et de vingt-cinq pièces de canon. Les Marhattes avaient une cavalerie égale en nombre à celle de l’ennemi, mais leur infanterie se bornait aux bataillons de M. de Boigne, soutenus, il est vrai, par quatre-vingts pièces d’artillerie. Le général examina la position de l’ennemi, il étudia le terrain et arrêta son plan de bataille.

“Le dix, avant le jour, la brigade reçut l’ordre de marcher en avant, et elle surprit les Rajepoutes pendant qu’ils faisoient leurs ablutions du matin. Les premiers bataillons, avec cinquante pièces de canon tirant à mitraille, enfoncèrent les lignes de l’ennemi et enlevèrent ses positions. Rohan, qui commandait l’aile droite, à la vue de ce premier avantage, sans avoir reçu aucun ordre, eut l’imprudence de s’avancer hors de la ligne du combat, à la tête de trois bataillons. La cavalerie Rathore profitant de cette faute, fondit à l’instant sur lui et faillit lui couper sa retraite sur le gros de l’armée, qu’il ne parvint à rejoindre qu’avec les plus grandes difficultés. Toute la cavalerie ennemie se mit alors en mouvement, et se jetant avec impétuosité sur la brigade, l’attaqua sur tous les côtés à la fois. Elle eût été infailliblement exterminée sans la présence d’esprit de son chef. M. de Boigne, s’étant aperçu de l’erreur commise par son aile droite et prévoyant les suites qu’elle pouvait entraîner, avait disposé sur-le-champ son infanterie en carré vide (hollow square); et par cette disposition, présentant partout un front à l’ennemi, elle opposa une résistance invincible aux charges furieuses des Rathores, qui furent enfin forcés de lâcher prise. Aussitôt l’infanterie reprit ses positions, et s’avançant avec son artillerie, elle fit une attaque générale sur toute la ligne des Rajepoutes. Déjà sur les neuf heures, l’ennemi était complètement battu; une heure après, les Marhattes prirent possession de son camp avec tous ses canons et bagages; et pour couronner cette journée, à trois heures après midi la ville de Mirtah fut prise d’assaut” (_Mémoire sur la carrière militaire et politique de M. le Général Comte De Boigne_, _Chambéry_, 1829).

Footnote 4.29.9:

[‘Seal,’ ‘coinage.’]

Footnote 4.29.10:

_Phūt_ is a species of pumpkin, or melon, which bursts and flies into pieces when ripe. [_Cucumis mormodica_, Watt, _Comm. Prod._ 438 f.] It also means _disunion_; and Zalim Singh, who always spoke in parables, compared the States of India to this fruit.

Footnote 4.29.11:

Literally, ‘the cold-weather castles.’

Footnote 4.29.12:

Isaiah xxxv. 7.

Footnote 4.29.13:

_Sahra_ is ‘desert’; Arabic _sarāb_, Hebrew _shārābh_, ‘the water of the desert,’ a term which the inhabitants of the Arabian and Persian deserts apply to this optical phenomenon. The 18th verse, chap. xli. of Isaiah is closer to the critic’s version: “I will make the wilderness (_sahra_) a pool of water.“ Doubtless the translators of Holy Writ, ignorant that this phenomenon was called _shārābh_, ‘water of the waste,’ deemed it a tautological error; for translated literally, “and the water of the desert shall become real water,” would be nonsense: they therefore lopped off the _āb_, water, and read _sahra_ instead of _shārābh_, whereby the whole force and beauty of the prophecy is not merely diminished, but lost. [The Author is mistaken, the words _shārābh_ and _sahra_ having no connexion. See _Encyclopaedia Biblica_, i. 1077. The mirage in Sanskrit is called _mrigatrish_, ‘deer’s thirst.’ Another name is _Gandharvapura_, ‘city of the heavenly choristers.’]

Footnote 4.29.14:

Properly a carbonate of soda [barilla, Watt, _Econ. Prod._ 112 f.].

Footnote 4.29.15:

[Mirage is due to variations in the refractive index of the atmosphere, caused by sporadic variations of temperature (_EB_, 11th ed. xviii. 573).]

Footnote 4.29.16:

[For the tale of the sufferings of the righteous Harischandra see J. Muir, _Original Sanskrit Texts_, i. 88 ff.; Dowson, _Classical Dict._ _s.v._ For the mirage city compare “The City of Brass” (Burton, _Arabian Nights_, iii. 295).]

Footnote 4.29.17:

This is in the ancient province of Hariana, and the cradle of the Agarwal race, now mercantile, and all followers of Hari or Vishnu. It might have been the capital of Aggrames, whose immense army threatened Alexander; with Agra it may divide the honour, or both may have been founded by this prince, who was also a Porus, being of Puru’s race. [For Xandrames or Aggrames see Smith, _EHI_, 40; McCrindle, _Alexander_, 409. His capital is supposed to have been Pātaliputra, the modern Patna.]

Footnote 4.29.18:

See _Edinburgh Review_, vol. xxi. pp. 66 and 138.

Footnote 4.29.19:

This phenomenon is not uncommon; and the superstitious sailor believes it to be the spectre of a Dutch pirate, doomed, as a warning and punishment, to migrate about these seas.

Footnote 4.29.20:

[_Jhāl_, _Salvadora persica._]

Footnote 4.29.21:

A second inscription recorded a similar end of Sewa, the Baori, who fell in another inroad of the Mers, in S. 1831.

Footnote 4.29.22:

I must deprecate criticism in respect to many of my geographical details. I find I have omitted this branch; but my health totally incapacitated me from reconstructing my map, which has been composed by the engraver from my disjointed materials. It is well known to all practical surveyors and geographers that none can do this properly but their author, who knows the precise value of each portion. [It is the main stream of the Lūni river.]

Footnote 4.29.23:

[At least three other temples of Brahma are known: at Khed Brahma in Mahikāntha (_BG_, v. 437 f.); Cebrolu and Māla in S. India (Oppert, _Original Inhabitants of Bharatavarsa_, 288 ff.). The Author mentions one at Chitor (Vol. I. p. 322).]

Footnote 4.29.24:

[“The name probably suggested the myth [that he was a goatherd, Ajapāla = ‘goatherd’], and it is more reasonable to suppose that the appellation was given to him when, at the close of his life, he became a hermit, and ended his days at the gorge in the hills about ten miles from Ajmer, which is still venerated as the shrine of Ajaipāl. It has been shown, however, by more recent research that Aja or Ajāya flourished about A.D. 1000, and that the foundation of Ajmer must be attributed to this period” (Watson, _Gazetteer_, i. A. 9).]

Footnote 4.29.25:

Classically, Visaladeva. [Cunningham remarks that the date of Manik Rāē is fixed by a memorial verse in Sambat 741 or 747, but of what era is uncertain. Tod adopts the Vikrama era, and fixes his date twenty years before the invasion of Muhammad bin Kāsim, A.D. 712. He seems to have reigned in the beginning of the ninth century (_ASR_, ii. 253). Visaladeva lived in the middle of the twelfth century (Smith, _EHI_, 386). Tej Singh is mentioned in inscriptions A.D. 1260-67 (Erskine ii. B. 10).]

Footnote 4.29.26:

See _Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society_, vol. i. p. 223.

Footnote 4.29.27:

[_Euphorbia neriifolia._]

Footnote 4.29.28:

[Mr. Wilder was in charge of Ajmer, 1818-24.]

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