ILLUSTRATIONS
| Colonel Tod and his Jain Guru | Frontispiece |
| TO FACE PAGE | |
| Raghubīr Singh, Māhārāo Rāja of Būndi | 1441 |
| City of Kotah from the East | 1521 |
| Country Seat of the Kotah Prince | 1530 |
| Palace and Fortress of Būndi | 1710 |
| Fragment from the Ruins of Barolli | 1752 |
| Outline of a Temple to Mahadeva at Barolli | 1754 |
| Sculptured Niche on the Exterior of the Temple at Barolli | 1756 |
| Ceiling of the Portico of Temple at Barolli | 1758 |
| Remains of an Ancient Temple at Barolli, near the Chambal | 1760 |
| Temples of Ganga Bheva in the Forest of Pachail in Mewar | 1766 |
| Smaller Group of Temples of Ganga Bheva | 1768 |
| Image of the Snake King at the Fountain of the Amjar | 1770 |
| Cave Temples of Dhamnar | 1776 |
| Entrance to the Sanctuary of a Temple at Chandravati | 1784 |
| Sculptured Foliage in Chandravati Temple | 1786 |
| Sculptured Ceilings of Temple at Chandravati | 1788 |
| Columns of Chandravati Temples | 1790 |
| Entrance to the Sanctuary of a Temple at Chandravati | 1792 |
| Ruins of Bhīm’s Chaori in the Mukunddara Pass | 1794 |
| Ancient Columns in the Mukunddara Pass | 1796 |
| Temples of Menāl in Mewār | 1800 |
| Second Group of Temples of Menāl in Mewār | 1802 |
| Jaistambha, Pillar of Victory | 1820 |
| Columns in the Fortress of Chitor | 1822 |
BOOK VIII
SKETCH OF THE INDIAN DESERT
CHAPTER 1
Having never penetrated personally farther into the heart of the desert than Mandor, the ancient capital of all Marusthali, the old castle of Hissar on its north-eastern frontier, and Abu, Nahrwala, and Bhuj, to the south, it may be necessary, before entering upon the details, to deprecate the charge of presumption or incompetency, by requesting the reader to bear in mind that my parties of discovery have traversed it in every direction, adding to their journals of routes living testimonies of their accuracy, and bringing to me natives of every thal from Bhatner to Umarkot, and from Abu to Aror.[1] I wish it, however, to be clearly understood, that I look upon this as a mere outline, which, by showing what might be done, may stimulate further research; but in the existing dearth of information on the subject I have not hesitated to send it forth, with its almost inevitable errors, as (I trust) a pioneer to more extended and accurate knowledge.
After premising thus much, let us commence with details, which, but for the reasons already stated, should have been comprised in the geographical portion of the work, and which, though irrelevant to the historical part, are too important to be [290] thrown into notes. I may add, that the conclusions formed, partly from personal observation, but chiefly from the resources described above, have been confirmed by the picture drawn by Mr. Elphinstone of his passage through the northern desert in the embassy to Kabul, which renders perfectly satisfactory to me the views I before entertained. It may be well, at this stage, to mention that some slight repetitions must occur as we proceed, having incidentally noticed many of the characteristic features of the desert in the Annals of Bikaner, which was unavoidable from the position of that State.State.
Description of the Desert.
—The hand of Nature has defined, in the boldest characters, the limits of the great desert of India, and we only require to follow minutely the line of demarcation; though, in order to be distinctly understood, we must repeat the analysis of the term Marusthali, the emphatic appellation of this ‘region of death.’ The word is compounded of the Sanskrit mri, ‘to die,’ and sthala, ‘arid or dry land,’ which last, in the corrupted dialect of those countries, becomes thal, the converse of the Greek oasis, denoting tracts particularly sterile. Each thal has its distinct denomination, as the ‘thal of Kawa,’ the ‘thal of Guga,’ etc.; and the cultivated spots, compared with these, either as to number or magnitude, are so scanty, that instead of the ancient Roman simile, which likened Africa to the leopard’s hide, reckoning the spots thereon as the oases, I would compare the Indian desert to that of the tiger, of which the long dark stripes would indicate the expansive belts of sand, elevated upon a plain only less sandy, and over whose surface numerous thinly-peopled towns and hamlets are scattered.Boundaries of the Desert.
—Marusthali is bounded on the north by the flat skirting the Ghara; on the south by that grand salt-marsh, the Ran, and Koliwara; on the east by the Aravalli; and on the west by the valley of Sind. The two last boundaries are the most conspicuous, especially the Aravalli, but for which impediment Central India would be submerged in sand; nay, lofty and continuous as is this chain, extending almost from the sea to Delhi, wherever there are passages or depressions, these floating sand-clouds are wafted through or over, and form a little thal even in the bosom of fertility. Whoever has crossed the Banas near Tonk, where the sand for some miles resembles waves of the sea, will comprehend this remark. Its western boundary is alike defined, and will recall to the English traveller, who may be destined to journey up the valley of Sind, the words of Napoleon on the Libyan desert: “Nothing so much resembles the sea as the desert; or a coast, as the valley of the Nile”: for this substitute ‘Indus’ [291], whence in journeying northward along its banks from Haidarabad to Uchh, the range of vision will be bounded to the east by a bulwark of sand, which, rising often to the height of two hundred feet above the level of the river, leads one to imagine that the chasm, now forming this rich valley, must have originated in a sudden melting of all the glaciers of Caucasus, whose congregated waters made this break in the continuity of Marusthali, which would otherwise be united with the deserts of Arachosia.Arachosia.We may here repeat the tradition illustrating the geography of the desert, i.e. that in remote ages it was ruled by princes of the Panwar (Pramara) race, which the sloka, or verse of the bard, recording the names of the nine fortresses (Nau-koti Maru-ki), so admirably adapted by their position to maintain these regions in subjection, further corroborates. We shall divest it of its metrical form, and begin with Pugal, to the north; Mandor, in the centre of all Maru; Abu, Kheralu, and Parkar, to the south; Chhotan, Umarkot, Aror, and Lodorva, to the west; the possession of which assuredly marks the sovereignty of the desert. The antiquity of this legend is supported by the omission of all modern cities, the present capital of the Bhattis not being mentioned. Even Lodorva and Aror, cities for ages in ruins, are names known only to a few who frequent the desert; and Chhotan and Kheralu, but for the traditional stanzas which excited our research, might never have appeared on the map.
Natural Divisions of the Desert.
—We purpose to follow the natural divisions of the country, or those employed by the natives, who, as stated above, distinguish them as thals; and after describing these in detail, with a summary notice of the principal towns whether ruined or existing, and the various tribes, conclude with the chief lines of route diverging from, or leading to, Jaisalmer.The whole of Bikaner, and that part of Shaikhavati north of the Aravalli, are comprehended in the desert. If the reader will refer to the map, and look for the town of Kanod,[2] within the British frontier, he will see what Mr. Elphinstone considered as the commencement of the desert, in his interesting expedition to Kabul.[3] “From Delly to Canound (the Kanorh of my map), a distance of one hundred miles is through the British dominions, and need not be described. It is sufficient to say that the country is sandy, though not ill cultivated. On approaching Canound, we had the first specimen of the desert, to which we were looking forward with anxious curiosity. Three miles before reaching that place we came to sand-hills, which at first were [292] covered with bushes, but afterwards were naked piles of loose sand, rising one after another like the waves of the sea, and marked on the surface by the wind like drifted snow. There were roads through them, made solid by the treading of animals; but off the road our horses sunk into the sand above the knee.” Such was the opening scene; the route of the embassy was by Singhana, Jhunjhunu, to Chum, when they entered Bikaner. Of Shaikhavati, which he had just left, Mr. Elphinstone says: “It seems to lose its title to be included in the desert, when compared with the two hundred and eighty miles between its western frontier and Bahawulpoor, and, even of this, only the last hundred miles is absolutely destitute of inhabitants, water, or vegetation. Our journey from Shekhavati to Poogul was over hills and valleys of loose and heavy sand. The hills were exactly like those which are sometimes formed by the wind on the seashore, but far exceeding them in height, which was from twenty to a hundred feet. They are said to shift their position and alter their shapes according as they are affected by the wind; and in summer the passage is rendered dangerous by the clouds of moving sand; but when I saw the hills (in winter), they seemed to have a great degree of permanence, for they bore grass, besides phoke, the babool, and bair or jujube, which altogether give them an appearance that sometimes amounted to verdure. Amongst the most dismal hills of sand one occasionally meets with a village, if such a name can be given to a few round huts of straw, with low walls and conical roofs, like little stacks of corn.” This description of the northern portion of the desert, by an author whose great characteristics are accuracy and simplicity, will enable the reader to form a more correct notion of what follows.[4]
With these remarks, and bearing in mind what has already been said of the physiography of these regions, we proceed to particularize the various thals and oases in this ‘region of death.’ It will be convenient to disregard the ancient Hindu geographical division, which makes Mandor the capital of Marusthali, a distinction both from its character and position better suited to Jaisalmer, being nearly in the centre of what may be termed entire desert. It is in fact an oasis, everywhere insulated by immense masses of thal, some of which are forty miles in breadth, without the trace of man, or aught that could subsist him. From Jaisalmer we shall pass to Marwar, and without crossing the Luni, describe Jalor and Siwanchi; then conduct the [293] reader into the almost unknown Raj of Parkar and Virawah,[5] governed by princes of the Chauhan race, with the title of Rana. Thence, skirting the political limits of modern Rajputana, to the regions of Dhat and Umra-sumra, now within the dominion of Sind, we shall conclude with a very slight sketch of Daudputra, and the valley of the Indus. These details will receive further illustration from the remarks made on every town or hamlet diverging from the ‘hill of Jaisal’ (Jaisalmer). Could the beholder, looking westward from this ‘triple-peaked hill,’[6] across this sandy ocean to the blue waters (Nilab)[7] of the Indus, embrace in his vision its whole course from Haidarabad to Uchh, he would perceive, amidst these valleys of sand-hills, little colonies of animated beings, congregated on every spot which water renders habitable. Throughout this tract, from four hundred to five hundred miles in longitudinal extent, and from one hundred to two hundred of diagonal breadth, are little hamlets, consisting of the scattered huts of the shepherds of the desert, occupied in pasturing their flocks or cultivating these little oases for food. He may discern a long line of camels (called kitar, a name better known than either kafila or karwan), anxiously toiling through the often doubtful path, and the Charan conductor, at each stage, tying a knot on the end of his turban. He may discover, lying in ambush, a band of Sahariyas, the Bedouins of our desert (sahra),[8] either mounted on camels or horses, on the watch to despoil the caravan, or engaged in the less hazardous occupation of driving off the flocks of the Rajar or Mangalia shepherds, peacefully tending them about the tars or bawas, or hunting for the produce stored amidst the huts of the ever-green jhal,[9] which serve at once as grain-pits and shelter from the sun. A migratory band may be seen flitting with their flocks from ground which they have exhausted, in search of fresh pastures:
Or they may be seen preparing the rabri, a mess quite analogous to the kouskous of their Numidian brethren, or quenching their thirst from the Wah of their little oasis, of which they maintain sovereign possession so long as the pasture lasts, or till they come in conflict with some more powerful community.
Oasis.
—We may here pause to consider whether in the bah, bawa, or wah, of the Indian desert, may not be found the oasis of the Greeks, corrupted by them from el-wah, or, as written by Belzoni (in his account of the Libyan desert, while searching for the [294] temple of Ammon), Elloah. Of the numerous terms used to designate water in these arid regions, as par, rar, tar, dah or daha, bah, bawa, wah, all but the latter are chiefly applicable to springs or pools of water, while the last (wah), though used often in a like sense, applies more to a water-course or stream. El-wah, under whatever term, means—‘the water.’ Again, daha or dah is a term in general use for a pool, even not unfrequently in running streams and large rivers, which, ceasing to flow in dry weather, leave large stagnant masses, always called dah. There are many of the streams of Rajputana, having such pools, particularized as hathi-dah, or ‘elephant-pool,’ denoting a sufficiency of water even to drown that animal. Now the word dah or daha, added to the generic term for water, wah, would make wadi (pool of water), the Arabian term for a running stream, and commonly used by recent travellers in Africa for these habitable spots. If the Greeks took the word wadi from any MS., the transposition would be easily accounted for: wadi would be written thus وازي, and by the addition of a point وازي, wazi, easily metamorphosed, for a euphonous termination, into oasis.[10]At the risk of somewhat of repetition, we must here point out the few grand features which diversify this sea of sand, and after defining the difference between rui and thal, which will frequently occur in the itinerary, at once plunge in medias res.
The Lost River of the Desert.
—We have elsewhere mentioned the tradition of the absorption of the Ghaggar river, as one of the causes of the comparative depopulation of the northern desert. The couplet recording it I could not recall at the time, nor any record of the Sodha prince Hamir, in whose reign this phenomenon is said to have happened. But the utility of these ancient traditional couplets, to which I have frequently drawn the reader’s attention, has again been happily illustrated, for the name of Hamir has been incidentally discovered from the trivial circumstance of an intermarriage related in the Bhatti annals. His contemporary of Jaisalmer was Dusaj, who succeeded in S. 1100 or [295] A.D. 1044, so that we have a precise date assigned, supposing this to be the Hamir in question. The Ghaggar, which rises in the Siwalik, passes Hansi Hissar, and flowed under the walls of Bhatner, at which place they yet have their wells in its bed. Thence it passed Rangmahall, Balar, and Phulra, and through the flats of Khadal (of which Derawar is the capital), emptying itself according to some below Uchh, but according to Abu-Barakat (whom I sent to explore in 1809, and who crossed the dry bed of a stream called the Khaggar, near Shahgarh), between Jaisalmer and Rori-Bakhar. If this could be authenticated, we should say at once that, united with the branch from Dara, it gave its name to the Sangra, which unites with the Luni, enlarging the eastern branch of the Delta of the Indus.[11]The Lūni River.
—The next, and perhaps most remarkable feature in the desert, is the Luni, or Salt River, which, with its numerous feeders, has its source in the springs of the Aravalli. Of Marwar it is a barrier between the fertile lands and the desert; and as it leaves this country for the thal of the Chauhans, it divides that community, and forms a geographical demarcation; the eastern portion being called the Raj of Suigam; and the western part, Parkar, or beyond the Khar, or Luni.[12]The Rann of Cutch.
—We shall hereafter return to the country of the Chauhans, which is bounded to the south by that singular feature in the physiognomy of the desert, the Rann, or Ran, already slightly touched upon in the geographical sketch prefixed to this work. This immense salt-marsh, upwards of one hundred and fifty miles in breadth, is formed chiefly by the Luni, which, like the Rhone, after forming Lake Leman, resumes its name at its further outlet, and ends as it commences with a sacred character, having the temple of Narayan[13] at its embouchure, where it mingles with the ocean, and that of Brahma at its source of Pushkar. The Rann, or Ran, is a corruption of Aranya, or ‘the waste’;[14] nor can anything in nature be more dreary in the dry weather than this parched desert of salt and mud, the peculiar abode of the khar-gadha, or wild-ass, whose love of solitude has been commemorated by an immortal pen.[15] That this enormous depository of salt is of no recent formation we are informed by the Greek writers, whose notice it did not escape, and who have preserved in Erinos a nearer approximation to the original Aranya than exists in our Ran or Rann. Although mainly indebted to the Luni for its salt, whose bed and that of its feeders are covered with saline deposits, it is also supplied by the overflowings of the Indus, to which grand stream it may be indebted for its volume of water. We have here another strong point of physical resemblance between the valleys of the Indus and the Nile, which Napoleon [296] at once referred to the simple operations of nature; I allude to the origin of Lake Moeris, a design too vast for man.[16]Thal, Rūi.
—As the reader will often meet with the words thal and rui, he should be acquainted with the distinction between them. The first means an arid and bare desert; the other is equally expressive of desert, but implies the presence of natural vegetation; in fact, the jungle of the desert.Thal of the Luni.
—This embraces the tracts on both sides of the river, forming Jalor and its dependencies. Although the region south of the stream cannot be included in the thal, yet it is so intimately connected with it, that we shall not forego the only opportunity we may have of noticing it.Jālor.
—This tract is one of the most important divisions of Marwar. It is separated from Siwanchi by the Sukri and Khari,[17] which, with many smaller streams, flow through them from the Aravalli and Abu, aiding to fertilize its three hundred and sixty towns and villages, forming a part of the fiscal domains of Marwar. Jalor, according to the geographical stanza so often quoted, was one of the ‘nine castles of Maru,’ when the Pramar held paramount rule in Marusthali. When it was wrested from them we have no clue to discover;[18] but it had long been held by the Chauhans, whose celebrated defence of their capital against Alau-d-din, in A.D. 1301, is recorded by Ferishta, as well as in the chronicles of their bards. This branch of the Chauhan race was called Mallani, and will be again noticed, both here and in the annals of Haraoti. It formed that portion of the Chauhan sovereignty called the Hapa Raj, whose capital was Juna-Chhotan, connecting the sway of this race in the countries along the Luni from Ajmer to Parkar, which would appear to have crushed its Agnikula brother, the Pramar, and possessed all that region marked by the course of the ‘Salt River’ to Parkar.Sonagir, the ‘golden mount,’ is the more ancient name of this castle, and was adopted by the Chauhans as distinctive of their tribe, when the older term, Mallani, was dropped for Sonigira. Here they enshrined their tutelary divinity, Mallinath, ‘god of the Malli,’ who maintained his position until the sons of Siahji entered these regions, when the name of Sonagir was exchanged for that of Jalor, contracted from Jalandharnath, whose shrine is about a coss west of the castle. Whether Jalandharnath [297], the ‘divinity of Jalandhar,’ was imported from the Ganges, or left as well as the god of the Malli by the ci-devant Mallanis, is uncertain: but should this prove to be a remnant of the foes of Alexander, driven by him from Multan,[19] its probability is increased by the caves of Jalandhar (so celebrated as a Hindu pilgrimage even in Babur’s time) being in their vicinity. Be this as it may, the Rathors, like the Roman conquerors, have added these indigenous divinities to their own pantheon. The descendants of the expatriated Sonigiras now occupy the lands of Chitalwana, near the furca of the Luni.
Jalor comprehends the inferior districts of Siwanchi, Bhinmal, Sanchor, Morsin, all attached to the khalisa or fisc; besides the great pattayats, or chieftainships, of Bhadrajan, Mewa, Jasola, and Sindari—a tract of ninety miles in length, and nearly the same in breadth, with fair soil, water near the surface, and requiring only good government to make it as productive as any of its magnitude in these regions, and sufficient to defray the whole personal expenses of the Rajas of Jodhpur, or about nine lakhs of rupees; but in consequence of the anarchy of the capital, the corruption of the managers, and the raids of the Sahariyas of the desert and the Minas of Abu and the Aravalli, it is deplorably deteriorated. There are several ridges (on one of which is the castle) traversing the district, but none uniting with the table-land of Mewar, though with breaks it may be traced to near Abu. In one point it shows its affinity to the desert, i.e. in its vegetable productions, for it has no other timber than the jhal, the babul, the karil, and other shrubs of the thal.
The important fortress of Jalor, guarding the southern frontier of Marwar, stands on the extremity of the range extending north to Siwana. It is from three to four hundred feet in height, fortified with a wall and bastions, on some of which cannon are mounted. It has four gates; that from the town is called the Suraj-pol, and to the north-west is the Bal-pol (‘the gate of Bal,’ the sun-god), where there is a shrine of the Jain pontiff, Parsvanath. There are many wells, and two considerable baoris, or reservoirs of good water, and to the north a small lake formed by damming up the streams from the hills; but the water seldom lasts above half the year. The town [298], which contains three thousand and seventeen houses, extends on the north and eastern side of the fort, having the Sukri flowing about a mile east of it. It has a circumvallation as well as the castle, having guns for its defence; and is inhabited by every variety of tribe, though, strange to say, there are only five families of Rajputs in its motley population. The following census was made by one of my parties, in A.D. 1813:
| Houses. | |
| Malis, or gardeners | 140 |
| Telis, or oilmen, here called Ghanchi | 100 |
| Kumhars, or potters | 60 |
| Thatheras, or braziers | 30 |
| Chhipis, or printers | 20 |
| Bankers, merchants, and shopkeepers | 1156 |
| Musalman families | 936 |
| Khatiks, or butchers | 20 |
| Nais, or barbers | 16 |
| Kalals, or spirit-distillers | 20 |
| Weavers | 100 |
| Silk weavers | 15 |
| Yatis (Jain priests) | 2 |
| Brahmans | 100 |
| Gujars | 40 |
| Rajputs | 5 |
| Bhojaks[20] | 20 |
| Minas | 60 |
| Bhils | 15 |
| Sweetmeat shops | 8 |
| Ironsmiths and carpenters (Lohars and Sutars) | 14 |
| Churiwalas, or bracelet-manufacturers | 4 |
The general accuracy of this census was confirmed.