Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, vol. 2 of 3, by James Tod

Rāja Mān Singh.

—The King of Maru arose from his throne, and advanced a few paces, when he again courteously received the envoy and suite, who were here introduced. The hall of reception was of great extent: from its numerous square columns it is styled Sahas stambha, ‘the thousand-columned hall.’ They were more massive than elegant; and being placed in parallel rows, at not more than twelve feet from each other, they gave an air of cumbrous, if not clumsy grandeur to an immense apartment, the ceiling of which was very low. About the centre, in a niche or recess, the royal gaddi or ‘cushion’ was placed, over which was raised a richly embroidered canopy, supported by silver-gilt columns. On the Rana’s right hand were placed those whom the king honoured, the chieftains of Pokaran and Nimaj, who would have been less at their ease had they known that all the distinctions they then enjoyed were meshes to ensnare them. Several other chieftains and civil officers, whose names would but little interest the reader, were placed around. The wakil, Bishan Ram, was seated near me, almost in front of the Raja. The conversation was desultory and entirely complimentary; affording, however, abundant opportunity to the Raja to display his proficiency in that mixed language, the Hindustani, which he spoke with great fluency and much greater purity than those who resided about the court at Delhi. In person the Raja is above the common height, possessing considerable dignity of manner, though accompanied by the stiffness of habitual restraint. His demeanour was commanding and altogether princely; but there was an entire absence of that natural majesty and grace which distinguished the prince of Udaipur, who won without exertion our spontaneous homage. The features of Raja Man are good: his eye is full of intelligence; and though the ensemble of his countenance almost denotes benevolence, yet there is ever and anon a doubtful expression, which, with a peculiarly formed forehead, gave a momentary cast of malignity to it. This might have been owing to that deep dissimulation, which had carried him through a trial of several years’ captivity, during which he acted the maniac and the religious enthusiast, until the assumed became in some measure his natural character.

The biography of Man Singh would afford a remarkable picture of human patience, fortitude, and constancy, never surpassed in any age or country. But in this school of adversity he also took lessons of cruelty: he learned therein to master or rather disguise his passions; and though he showed not the ferocity of the tiger, he acquired [712] the still more dangerous attribute of that animal—its cunning. At that very time, not long after he had emerged from his seclusion, while his features were modelled into an expression of complaisant self-content, indicative of a disdain of human greatness, he was weaving his web of destruction for numberless victims who were basking in the sunshine of his favour. The fate of one of them has been already related.^[5]

Descent of the Rāthors.

—The Rathor, like many other dynasties not confined to the East, claims celestial descent. Of their Bhat, we may say what Gibbon does of the Belgic genealogist who traced the illustrious house of Este from Romulus, that “he riots in all the lust of fiction, and spins from his own bowels a lineage of some thousand years.” We are certain that there were sovereigns of Kanauj in the fifth century, and it is very probable that they ruled there prior to the era of Christianity. But this is accounted nothing by these lovers of antiquity, who never stop short of Swayambhuva,^[6] and the ark, in which the antediluvian records of the Rathors may have been preserved with those of the De Courcys. But we will not revert to those “happy times, when a genealogical tree would strike its root into any soil, and the luxuriant plant could flourish and fructify without a seed of truth.” Then the ambition of the Rathor for a solar pedigree could be gratified without difficulty.

But it requires neither Bhat nor bard to illustrate its nobility: a series of splendid deeds which time cannot obliterate has emblazoned the Rathor name on the historical tablet. Where all these races have gained a place in the temple of fame, it is almost invidious to select; but truth compels me to place the Rathor with the Chauhan, on the very pinnacle. The names of Chonda and Jodha are sufficient to connect Siahji, the founder, a scion of Kanauj, with his descendant, Raja Man:^[7] the rest

Let us, therefore, put forth our palm to receive the itr from his august hand, and the pan, acknowledged by a profound salaam, and bringing the right hand to my cocked hat, which etiquette requires we should “apply to the proper use:—’tis for the head,” even in the presence. At all the native courts the head is covered, and the en bas left bare. It would be sadly indecorous to walk in soiled boots over their [713] delicate carpets, covered with white linen, the general seat. The slippers are left at the door, and it is neither inconvenient nor degrading to sit in your socks. The Raja presented me with an elephant and horse caparisoned, an aigrette, necklace, brocades, and shawls, with a portion according to rank to the gentlemen who accompanied me.

On the 6th I paid the Raja another visit, to discuss the affairs of his government. From a protracted conversation of several hours, at which only a single confidential personal attendant of the prince was present, I received the most convincing proofs of his intelligence, and minute knowledge of the past history, not of his own country alone, but of India in general. He was remarkably well read; and at this and other visits he afforded me much instruction. He had copies made for me of the chief histories of his family, which are now deposited in the library of the Royal Asiatic Society. He entered deeply into the events of his personal history, and recounted many of the expedients he was obliged to have recourse to in order to save his life, when, in consequence of the murder of his Guru (not only his spiritual but his temporal guide, counsellor, and friend), he relinquished the reins of power, and acquiesced in their assumption by his son. The whole transaction is still involved in mystery, which the Raja alone can unravel. We must enter so far into the State secrets of the court as to disclose the motive for such an act as the destruction of the brave Surthan, and introduce to the reader another high priest of the Rajputs as a pendant for the oracle of the Apollo of Nathdwara.

The parricidal murder of Raja Ajit has been the destruction of Marwar, and even “unto the third and fourth generation” Providence would seem to have visited the act with its vengeance. The crown, which in a few years more would have been transmitted by nature’s law, was torn from the brow of this brave prince, who has redeemed his lost inheritance from Aurangzeb, by the unhallowed arm of his eldest son Abhai Singh; instigated thereto by an imperial bribe of the viceroyalty of Gujarat. His brother, Bakhta Singh, was made almost independent in Nagor by the concession of Abhai and the sanad and titles of his sovereign; and the contests between their issue have moistened the sands of Marwar with the richest blood of her children. Such is the bane of feudal dominion—the parent of the noblest deeds and the deepest crimes.

Deonāthji, the High Priest.

—Raja Man, accordingly, came to the throne with all the advantages and [714] disadvantages of such a state of things; and he was actually defending his existence in Jalor against his cousin and sovereign, when an unexpected event released him from his perils, and placed him on the throne. Bhim Singh had destroyed almost every branch of the blood-royal, which might have served as a nucleus for those intestine wars which desolated the country, and young Man, the sole intervening obstacle to the full accomplishment of his wishes, was reduced to the last extremity, and on the eve of surrendering himself and Jalor to this merciless tyrant, when he was relieved from his perilous situation. He attributed his escape to the intercession of the high priest of Marwar, the spiritual leader of the Rathors. This hierarch bore the title of divinity, or Nathji: his praenomen of Deo or Deva was almost a repetition of his title; and both together, Deonath, cannot be better rendered than by ‘Lord God.’ Whether the intercession of this exalted personage was purely of a moral nature, as asserted, or whether Raja Bhim was removed from this vain world to the heaven of Indra by means less miraculous than prayer is a question on which various opinions are entertained; but all agree that nothing could have been better timed for young Man, the sole victim required to fill up the measure of Bhim’s sanguinary policy. When suicide was the sole alternative to avoid surrender to the fangs of this Herod of the Desert, the high priest, assuming the mantle of prophecy, pronounced that no capitulation was inscribed in the book of fate—whose page revealed brighter days for young Man. Such prophets are dangerous about the persons of princes, who seldom fail to find the means to prevent their oracles from being demented. A dose of poison, it is said, was deemed a necessary adjunct to render efficacious the prayers of the pontiff; and they conjointly extricated the young prince from a fate which was deemed inevitable, and placed him on the regal cushion of Marwar. The gratitude of Raja Man had no limits—no honours, no grants were sufficient to mark his sense of obligation. The royal mantle was hallowed by the tread of this sainted being; and the throne itself was exalted when Deonath condescended to share it with his master, who, while this proud priest muttered forth his mysterious benedictions, with folded hands stood before him to receive the consecrated garland. Lands in every district were conferred upon the Nath, until his estates, or rather those of the church of which he was the head, far exceeded in extent those of the proudest nobles of the land, his income [715] amounting to a tenth of the revenues of the State. During the few years he held the keys of his master’s conscience, which were conveniently employed to unlock the treasury, he erected no less than eighty-four mandirs, or places of worship, with monasteries adjoining them, for his well-fed lazy chelas or disciples, who lived at free quarters on the labour of the industrious. Deonath was a striking example of the identity of human nature, under whatever garb and in whatever clime; whether under the cowl or the coronet, in the cold clime of Europe, or in the deserts of India. This Wolsey of Marudes exercised his hourly-increasing power to the disgust and alienation of all but his infatuated prince. He leagued with the nominal minister, Induraj, and together they governed the prince and country. Such characters, when exceeding the sphere of their duties, expose religion to contempt. The degradation which the haughty grandees of Marwar experienced made murder in their eyes a venial offence, provoked as they were by the humiliations they underwent through the influence of this arrogant priest, whose character may be given in the language of Gibbon, merely substituting Deonath of Marwar for Paul of Samosata: “His ecclesiastical jurisdiction was venal and rapacious; he extorted frequent contributions from the most opulent of the faithful, and converted to his own use a considerable part of the public revenue. His council chamber and his throne, the splendour with which he appeared in public, the suppliant crowd who solicited his attention, and the perpetual hurry of business in which he was involved, were circumstances much better suited to the state of a civil magistrate than to the humility of a primitive bishop.”^[8] But his “full-blown pride” at length burst under him. Sequestrations from the estates of the chief barons of Maru became frequent in order to swell his rent-roll for the support of his establishments; his retinue on ordinary occasions surpassed that of any chieftain, and not unfrequently he was attended by the whole insignia of the State—the prince attending on such ceremonies. On these occasions the proud Rajput felt that he folded his hands, not to his sovereign, but to his sovereign’s sovereign; to a vindictive and vainglorious priest, who, amidst the mummeries and artifices of religious rites, gratified an inordinate vanity, while he mortified their pride and diminished their revenues. The hatred of such men is soon followed by their vengeance; and though they would not dye their own daggers in his blood, they soon found agents in a race who know not mercy, the myrmidons of [716] that villain Amir Khan, under whose steel, and within the precincts of the palace, Deonath fell a victim. It has been surmised that Raja Man was privy to the murder; that if he did not command or even sanction it, he used no means to prevent it. There are but two in this life who can reveal this mystery—the Raja, and the bourreau en chéf of Rajasthan, the aforesaid Amir Khan.

The murder of the high priest was but a prolongation of the drama, in which we have already represented the treacherous destruction of the chieftain of Pokaran and his kindred; and the immolation of Krishna Kunwari, the Helen of Rajasthan. The attack on the gallant Surthan, who conducted us from Jhalamand to the capital, sprung from the seed which was planted so many years back; nor was he the last sacrifice: victim after victim followed in quick succession until the Caligula of the Desert, who could “smile and stab,” had either slain or exiled all the first chieftains of his State. It would be a tedious tale to unravel all these intrigues; yet some of them must be told, in order to account for the ferocity of this man, now a subordinate ally of the British Government in the East.

Accession of Rāja Mān Singh.

—It was in A.D. 1804 ^[9] that Raja Man exchanged the defence of Jalor for the throne of Jodhpur. His predecessor, Raja Bhim, left a widow pregnant; she concealed the circumstance, and when delivered, contrived to convey the child in a basket to Sawai Singh of Pokaran. During two years he kept the secret: he at length convened the Marwar chieftains, with whose concurrence he communicated it to Raja Man, demanding the cession of Nagor and its dependencies as a domain for this infant, named Dhonkal Singh, the heir-apparent of Marwar. The Raja promised compliance if the mother confirmed the truth of the statement. Whether her personal fears overcame her maternal affection, or the whole was an imposture of Pokaran, she disclaimed the child. The chiefs, though not satisfied, were compelled to appear contented with the result of this appeal; and for some years the matter seemed at rest. But this calm was only the presage of a storm, which shook to its base the political edifice of Marwar, and let loose upon her cities a torrent of predatory foes; it dethroned her prince, and, what the planner could not have contemplated, involved his own destruction. The effects of this treachery have for ever destroyed all confidence between the chief and the entire feudal interest. The Pokaran chief, after failing to establish the [717] claims of Dhonkal Singh as pretender to the throne, sent him for safety to the Shaikhawat chief of Khetri,^[10] one of the independent nobles of the Jaipur family. Here he left him till an opportunity again arrived to bring him upon the scene, which was afforded by the contest between the princes of Marwar and Jaipur for the hand of the Rana’s daughter. This rivalry, the effects of which are already related, and which brought into conflict all the northern powers of India, was, in fact, only the under-plot of the deep-laid policy of Sawai. When once the gauntlet was thrown down for the hand of this fair lady, the Pokaran chief stepped in with the pretended son of Raja Bhim, whose cause, from the unpopularity of Raja Man, soon brought to his standard almost all the feudality of Marwar. The measures which followed, and the catastrophe, the death of Krishna Kunwari, have already been related.^[11] The assassination of the chief of Pokaran was simultaneous with these events; and it was shortly after that the murder of the pontiff Deonath took place.

Insanity of Rāja Mān Singh.

—After being relieved from all external foes by his own strength of mind, and the aid of a few friends whom no reverse could estrange from him, Raja Man either fell, or affected to fall, into a state of mental despondency bordering on insanity. Suspicious of every one, he would only eat from the hands of his wife, who prepared his food herself; he became sullen and morose; he neglected public business; and finally withdrew entirely from the world. The attempt to rouse him from this real or pretended stupor was fruitless; he did nothing but lament the death of Deonath, and pour forth prayers to the deity. In this state, he was easily induced to associate his son in the government, and he bestowed upon him with his own hand the tika of command. Chhattar Singh was the name of the prince, who was still in his minority; thoughtless, and of dissolute habits, he soon gave himself up to the guidance of a junta of the chiefs, who proclaimed Akhai Chand, of the mercantile caste, the chief civil minister of the State.

British Control of Mārwār. Restoration and Policy of Rāja Mān Singh.

—Such was the condition of Marwar from A.D. 1809 to 1817. At this period the progress of events made the English arbiters of the destinies of Rajasthan. The regent of Marwar sent an ambassador to treat; but before the treaties were ratified and exchanged the young regent was dead. Various causes were assigned [718] for his death: by some his dissolute habits, occasioning premature decay; by others, with more probability, the dagger of an indignant Rajput, the honour of whose daughter he had clandestinely attempted. Upon this event, and the change of political circumstances, the chiefs had no alternative but to turn to the secluded prince. If but one half is true that I have heard, and from authority of high credit, the occupations of the years which the Raja passed between the murder of the priest and the death of his son might be deemed an atonement for the deepest crimes. When messengers announced the fate of his son, and that State necessity recalled him to the helm of affairs, he appeared unable to comprehend them. He had so long acted the maniac that he had nearly become one: his beard was never touched, and his hair, clotted and foul, gave him an expression of idiocy; yet throughout these long years he was resolutely tenacious of life. The party who governed the son and the State had their own menials to wait upon him, and many were the attempts to poison him by their means; in avoiding which his simulated madness was so perfect that they deemed he had “a charmed life.” But he had one faithful servant, who throughout this dreadful trial never forsook him, and who carried him food in his turban to replace that which was suspected. When by degrees he was led to understand the emergency, and the necessity of leaving his prison, he persevered in his apparent indifference to everything earthly, until he gathered information and the means for a terrible reaction. The treaty with the English put the ball at his foot: he very soon perceived that he might command a force to put down disorder—such was even volunteered; but with admirable penetration he trusted to the impression of this knowledge amongst his chiefs, as a sufficient auxiliary. By disseminating it, he paralysed that spirit which maintained rights in the soil of Marwar nearly concurrent with those of the sovereign. No higher compliment could be paid to British ascendancy than the sentiments of Raja Man and his nobles; and no better illustration is on record of the opinion of our power than that its name alone served the Raja’s purpose in subjugating men, who, scarcely knowing fear, yet reposing partly on our justice, though mainly on the utter hopelessness of resisting us, were deprived of all moral courage.

In refusing the aid of a mere physical force, the Raja availed himself of another weapon; for by this artifice he threw the chiefs off their guard, who confided in his [719] assumed desire to forget the past. Intrigues for power and patronage seemed to strengthen this confidence; and Salim Singh of Pokaran, the military Maire du palais or Bhanjgarh, and Akhai Chand, retained as civil prime minister, were opposed by Jodhraj Singwi, who headed the aspirants to supplant them. The Raja complained of their interested squabbles, but neither party dreamed that they were fostered by him to cloak his deep-laid schemes. Akhai Chand had been minister throughout the son’s administration; the political and pecuniary transactions of the State were known chiefly to him; to cut him off would have been poor revenge, and Raja Man was determined not only to extract from him all the knowledge of State matters transacted during his seclusion, but to make himself master of his coffers, and neither would have been attained by simple murder. Akhai Chand was not blind to the dangers of his position; he dreaded the appui his sovereign derived from the English, and laboured to inspire the Raja with distrust of their motives. It suited his master’s views to flatter this opinion; and the minister and his adherents were lulled into a fatal security.

Maladministration of Rāja Mān Singh.

—Such were the schemes concocting when I visited this court, which were revealed by succeeding events. At this time the Raja appeared in a state of mental depression, involved in difficulties, cautious, fearful of a false step, and surrounded by the satellites of the miscreant Akhai Chand, who, if he could no longer incarcerate his person, endeavoured to seal up the mind of his prince from all communication with those who might stimulate him to exertion. But all his arts only served to entangle him in the web then weaving for his life. The Raja first made him the means of destroying the most powerful of his chieftains, Surthan being the primary sacrifice to his sanguinary proscription; many others followed, until the best of the feudal chieftains sought refuge from his fury in exile, and found the saran (sanctuary) they sought in the surrounding States, the majority in Mewar. The day of vengeance at length arrived, and the minister and his partisans were transferred from their position at the helm of the State to a dungeon. Deceived with hopes of life, and compelled by the application of some summary methods of torture, Akhai Chand gave in a schedule of forty lakhs of property, of which the Raja realized a large portion, and then dismissed him to the other world. Nagoji, the kiladar,^[12] and Mulji Dandal, both favourites and advisers of the Raja’s [720] late son, returned on the strength of a general amnesty, and forgot they had been traitors. The wealth which prodigality had heaped upon them, consisting of many of the crown jewels, being recovered, their worldly accounts were settled by a cup of poison, and their bodies thrown over the battlements. Success, and the taste of blood, whetted rather than appeased the appetite of Raja Man. He was well seconded by the new minister, Fateh Raj, the deadly opponent of Akhai Chand, and all the clan of Champawats, whom he deemed the authors of the murder of his brother Induraj, slain at the same time with Deonath. Each day announced a numerous list of victims, either devoted to death, or imprisoned and stripped of their wealth. The enormous sum of a crore of rupees has been stated as the amount of the confiscations.

All these atrocities occurred within six months after my visit to this court, and about eighteen from the time it was received into protective alliance with the British Government. The anomalous condition of all our connexions with the Rajput States has already been described: and if illustration of those remarks be required, it is here in awful characters. We had tied up our own hands: “internal interference” had been renounced, and the sequestration of every merchant’s property, who was connected with the Mehta faction, and the exile of the nobles, had no limit but the will of a bloodthirsty and vindictive tyrant. The objects of his persecution made known everywhere the unparalleled hardships of their case, and asserted that nothing but respect for the British Government prevented their doing themselves justice. In no part of the past history of this State could such proscription of the majority of the kin and clan of the prince have taken place. The dread of our intervention, as an umpire favourable to their chief, deprived them of hope; they knew that if we were exasperated there was no saran to protect them. They had been more than twelve months in this afflicting condition when I left the country; nor have I heard that anything has been done to relieve them, or to adjust these intestine broils. It is abandoning them to that spirit of revenge which is a powerful ingredient in their nature, and held to be justifiable by any means when no other hope is left them. In all human probability, Raja Man will end his days by the same expedient which secured him from the fury of his predecessor.^[13]

Interview with Rāja Mān Singh.

—Having lifted the mantle which veiled the future, my reader must forget all that [721] has been said to the disadvantage of Raja Man, and see only the dignified, the courteous, and the well-instructed gentleman and prince. I cannot think that the Raja had coolly formed to himself the plan of the sanguinary measures he subsequently pursued, and which it would require a much more extended narrative to describe. We discoursed freely on past history, in which he was well read, as also in Persian, and his own native dialects. He presented me with no less than six metrical chronicles of his house; of two, each containing seven thousand stanzas, I made a rough translation. In return, I had transcribed and sent to him Ferishta’s great History of the Mahomedan Power in India, and Khulasatu-t-tawarikh,^[14] a valuable epitome of the history of Hindustan. I little imagined that I should then have to exhibit him otherwise than his demeanour and instructive discourse made him appear to me. In our graver conversation I was amused with a discourse on the rules of government, and instructions for the guidance of ambassadors, which my better acquaintance with Chand discovered to be derived from that writer. He carried me, accompanied by a single domestic, to various apartments in the palace, whence he directed my view across the vast plains of the desert, whose monarch I envied not. The low hills in the vicinity alone broke the continuity of this arid region, in which a few isolated nim trees were thinly scattered, to remind one of the absence of all that is grand in vegetation. After a visit of several hours, I descended to my tent, and found my friends, Captain Waugh and Major Gough, just returned from a successful chase of an antelope, which, with the aid of some Rohilla greyhounds, they had run down. I attributed their success to the heavy sands, on which I have witnessed many pulled down by dogs of little speed; but the secret was revealed on this animal being sent to the cuisinier. On depriving him of his hide, between it and the flesh the whole carcase was covered with a large, inert, amorphous white maggot. The flesh was buried in the sands, and no venison appeared again on my table while in India.^[15]

Mandor. Rāthor Cenotaphs.

—November 8.—I set out early this morning to ramble amidst the ruins of the ancient capital, Mandor, an important link in the chain of archaeological research, before the panchranga, or ‘five-coloured banner’ of Maru was prostrated to the crescent. Attended by an escort provided by the Raja, I left the perambulator behind; but as the journey occupied an hour and a quarter, and at a very slow pace, the distance must be under five miles. I proceeded through the Sojat gate, to [722] gain the road leading to Nagor; shortly after which I passed the Maha Mandir, or ‘Grand Minster,’ the funds for the erection of which were provided by Raja Man on his escape from ruin at Jalor. I skirted the range, gradually decreasing in height for three miles, in a N.N.E. direction. We then altered our course to N.N.W., and entered the gorge of the mountains which envelop all that is hallowed of the relics of the princes of this house. The pass is narrow; the cliffs are almost perpendicular, in which are numerous caves, the abodes of ascetics. The remains of fortifications thrown across, to bar the entrance of the foe to the ancient capital of the Pariharas, are still visible: a small stream of pure and sweet water issues from this opening, and had a watercourse under an archway. After proceeding a little farther, the interval widened, and passing through the village, which does not exceed two hundred houses, our attention was attracted by a line of lofty temples, rising in graduated succession. These proud monuments proved to be the cenotaphs of the Rathors, erected on the spots where the funeral pyre consumed the crowned heads of Maru, who seldom burnt alone, but were accompanied by all that made life agreeable or poisoned its enjoyment. The small brook already mentioned flows past the southern extremity of the chief line of monuments, which extend from south to north. At the former point stands that of Rao Maldeo, the gallant opponent of Sher Shah, the brave usurper of the throne of the Moguls. The farther point terminates with that of Maharaja Ajit Singh; while the princes in regular succession, namely, Sur Singh, Udai Singh, Gaj Singh, and Jaswant Singh, fill up the interval.

These dumb recorders of a nation’s history attest the epochs of Marwar’s glory, which commenced with Maldeo, and ended with the sons of Ajit. The temple-monument of Maldeo, which yet throws into shade the still more simple shrines of Chonda, and Jodha, contrasted with the magnificent mausoleum of Raja Ajit, reads us a lesson on the advancement of luxurious pomp in this desert State. The progression is uniform, both in magnitude and elegance, from Maldeo’s who opposed on equal terms the Afghan king (whose memorable words, “I had nearly lost the throne of India for a handful of barley,”^[16] mark at once the gallantry and the poverty of those whom he encountered), to the last great prince Ajit. Even that of Raja Gaj is plain, compared to his successor’s. These monuments are all erected of a very close-grained freestone, of a dark brown or red [723] tint, with sufficient hardness to allow the sculptor to indulge his fancy. The style of architecture, or rather the composition, is mixed, partaking both of the Saivite and the Buddhist; but the details are decidedly Jain, more especially the columns, which are of the same model as those in Kumbhalmer. I speak more especially of those of Rajas Jaswant and Ajit, drawings of which, on a large scale, executed by the Raja’s chief architect, I brought to Europe; but which it would be too expensive to have engraved. They are raised on immense terraces, faced with large blocks of well-polished freestone. That of Jaswant is somewhat ponderous and massive; but Ajit’s rises with great elegance and perfect symmetry of proportion.

On ascending the terrace you enter through a lofty vaulted porch supported by handsome columns to the sanctum, which is a pyramidal temple, four stories in height, in the Saivite style, crowned by the sikhar and kalas, elsewhere described. The sculptural ornaments are worthy of admiration, both for their design and effect; and the numerous columns on the basement, and different stages of ascent, give an air of so much majesty that one might deem these monuments more fitting sepulture for the Egyptian Cheops than a shrine—over what? not even the ashes of the desert king, which were consigned in an urn to the bosom of the Ganges. If the foundations of these necrological monuments have been equally attended to with the superstructure, they bid fair to convey to remote posterity the recollection of as conspicuous a knot of princely characters as ever followed each other in the annals of any age or country. Let us place them in juxtaposition with the worthies of Mewar and the illustrious scions of Timur, and challenge the thrones of Europe to exhibit such a contemporaneous display of warriors, statesmen, or scholars.

From Maldeo to Udai le gros the first Raja (hitherto Raos) of Marwar, and the friend of Akbar, to Jaswant, the implacable foe of Aurangzeb, and Ajit, who redeemed his country from oppression, all were valiant men and patriotic princes.

“Where were the lions’ cubs,” I asked of my conductor, “the brave sons of Ajit, who erected this monument to his manes, and who added provinces to his dominions?” He pointed to two sheds, where the kriya karma^[17] was performed; there was

but these lowly sheds told, in more forcible, more emphatic language, the cause of this abrupt transition from grandeur to humility than pen ever wrote; and furnished the moral epilogue to the eventful drama of the lives of these kings of the desert. Abhai Singh’s parricidal hand bereft his father of life; yet though his career was one splendid tissue of success and honour, leaving his dominions more than doubled, the contentions of his issue with that of his brother Bakhta Singh, alike accessory, it is said, to the crime, have entailed endless misery upon Marwar, and left them not the power, if they had the inclination, to house his ashes. In the same line with the parricide and his brave brother is the humble monument of the great Bijai Singh, whose life till towards its close was a continued tide of action. I could not avoid an exclamation of surprise: “Shame to the country,” I said, “that has neglected to enshrine the ashes of a name equal to the proudest!” His three sons, amongst them Zalim Singh, with the sketch of whom this narrative opened, have their shrines close to his; and but a few yards removed are those of Raja Bhim, and his elder brother Guman (who died in his minority), the father of the reigning prince, Raja Man. The last, which closed the line, pertained to Chhattar Singh, who, in all probability, was saved by death from the murder of his parent. I passed it in disgust, asking who had been so foolish as to entomb his ashes better than those of some of the worthies of his race? I found that it was the act of maternal fondness.

Ancestor Worship. Sati.

—The Amavas (the Ides) and the Sankrantis (when the sun enters a new sign of the Zodiac) of every month are sacred to the Pitrideva, on which days it is incumbent on the reigning prince to “give water” to his ancestors. But the ignorance of my conductor deprived me of much information which I anticipated [725]; and had I not been pretty well read in the chronicles of the Rathors, I should have little enjoyed this visit to a “nation’s dust.” They related one fact, which was sufficient to inspire horror. No less than sixty-four females accompanied the shade of Ajit to the mansion of the sun. But this is twenty short of the number who became Satis when Raja Budh Singh of Bundi was drowned! The monuments of this noble family of the Haras are far more explicit than those of the Rathors, for every such Sati is sculptured on a small altar in the centre of the cenotaph: which speaks in distinct language the all-powerful motive, vanity, the principal incentive to these tremendous sacrifices. Budh Singh was a contemporary of Ajit, and one of the most intrepid generals of Aurangzeb; the period elapsed is about one hundred and twenty years. Mark the difference! When his descendant, my valued friend, the Rao Raja Bishan Singh, died in 1821, his last commands were that none should give such a proof of their affection. He made me guardian of his infant heir;—in a few days I was at Bundi, and his commands were religiously obeyed.

In this account are enumerated the monumental relics below the fort. Upon the mountain, and beyond the walls of the fortress of Mandor, are the dewals of Rao Ranmall, Rao Ganga, and Chonda, who conquered Mandor from the Parihars. Within a hundred yards of this trio of worthies of this house is a spot set apart for the queens who die natural deaths. But this is anticipating; let me in form conduct my readers step by step from the cemetery of the Rathors to the Cyclopean city of the Parihars.

Whoever has seen Cortona, Volterra, or others of the ancient Tuscan cities can form a correct idea of the walls of Mandor, which are precisely of the same ponderous character. It is singular that the ancient races of India, as well as of Europe (and whose name of Pali is the synonym of Galati or Keltoi) should, in equal ignorance of the mechanical arts, have piled up these stupendous monuments, which might well induce their posterity to imagine “there were giants in those days.” This western region, in which I include nearly all Rajputana and Saurashtra, has been the peculiar abode of these “pastor kings,” who have left their names, their monuments, their religion and sacred character as the best records of their supremacy. The Rajpali, or ‘Royal Pastors,’ are enumerated as one of the thirty-six royal races of ancient days: the city of Palitana, ‘the abode of the Pali,’ in Saurashtra (built [726] at the foot of Mount Satrunjaya, sacred to Buddha), and Pali in Godwar, are at once evidences of their political consequence and the religion they brought with them; while the different nail-headed characters are claimed by their descendants, the sectarian Jains of the present day.^[18] There is scarcely an ancient city in Rajputana whence I have not obtained copies of inscriptions from columns and rocks, or medals, gold, silver, and copper, bearing this antique character. All are memorials of these races, likewise termed Takshak, the Scythic conquerors of India, ancestors of many of the Rajputs, whose history the antiquary will one day become better acquainted with. The Parihara, it will be recollected, is one of the four Agnikulas: races who obtained a footing in India posterior to the Suryas and Indus. I omitted, however, to mention, in the sketch of the Pariharas, that they claim Kashmir as the country whence they migrated into India: the period is not assigned, but it was when the schismatic wars between the Saivites and Buddhists were carrying on; and it would appear that the former found proselytes and supporters in many of these Agnikulas. But of the numerical extent of the followers of this faith we have this powerful evidence, namely, that three-fourths of the mercantile classes of these regions are the descendants of the martial conquerors of India, and that seven out of the ten and a half niyats or tribes, with their innumerable branches, still profess the Jain faith, which, beyond controversy, was for ages paramount in this country.

The Walls of Mandor.

—Let us now ascend the paved causeway to this gigantic ruin, and leave the description of the serpentine Nagda, which I threaded to its source in the glen of Panchkunda, till our return. Half-way up the ascent is a noble baoli, or ‘reservoir,’ excavated from the solid rock, with a facing of cut stone and a noble flight of steps: on which, however, two enormous gulars^[19] or wild fig-trees have taken root, and threaten it with premature destruction. This memorial bears the name of Nahar Rao, the last of the Parihars.^[20] As I looked up to the stupendous walls,

Ages have rolled away since these were raised, and ages will yet roll on, and find [727] them immovable, unchanged. The immense blocks are piled upon, and closely fitted to, each other without any cement, the characteristic of all the Etruscan cities termed Cyclopean. We might indeed smuggle a section of Mandor into the pages of Micali,^[21] amongst those of Todi or Volterra, without fear of detection. The walls, following the direction of the crest of the ridge, are irregular; and having been constructed long before artillery was thought of, the Parihar or Pali engineer was satisfied with placing the palace on the most commanding eminence, about the centre of the fortress. The bastions or towers are singularly massive, and like all the most antique, their form is square. Having both fever and ague upon me, I was incapable of tracing the direction of the walls, so as to form any correct judgement of the space they enclose; but satisfied with gaining the summit, I surveyed the ruin from the site of the palace of the Parihars. The remains, though scanty, are yet visible; but the materials have been used in the construction of the new capital Jodhpur, and in the cenotaphs described. A small range of the domestic temples of the palace, and some of the apartments, are yet distinctly to be traced; the sculptured ornaments of their portals prove them to have been the work of a Takshak or Buddhist architect. Symbolical figures are frequently seen carved on the large blocks of the walls, though probably intended merely as guides to the mason. These were chiefly Buddhist or Jain: as the quatre-feuille, the cross; though the mystic triangle, and triangle within a triangle ✡^[22] (a sign of the Saivites, only, I believe), was also to be seen. The chief memorials of the Parihara are a gateway and magnificent Toran, or triumphal arch, placed towards the south-east angle of the castle. It is one mass of sculpture; but the pencil was wanting, and I had not leisure even to bring away a rude resemblance of this memento of some victory of the ancient lords of Mandor.

Mewar.		Marwar.		Delhi.
Rana Sanga		Rao Maldeo		Babur and Sher Shah.
		Rao Sur Singh		Humayun.
Rana Partap		Raja Udai Singh		Akbar.
Rana Amra I. Rana Karan	}	Raja Gaj Singh	{	Jahangir and Shah Jahan.
Rana Raj		Raja Jaswant Singh		Aurangzeb.
Rana Jai Singh Rana Amra II.	}	Raja Ajit Singh	{	All the competitors for the throne after Farrukhsiyar [724].

Reception by the Rāja.