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

Thāna Pir.

—A little distance to the northward of my position is the Than or ‘station’ of a Muhammadan saint, a disciple of the celebrated Khwaja Kutab, whose shrine at Ajmer is celebrated. This of Thana Pir,^[23] as they call him, was a place of great resort to the unsanctified Kafirs, the mercenary Sindis and Afghans, who long prowled about these regions in quest of [728] prey, or plunder, or both. Nearly in the same direction, beyond the walls, are the cenotaphs of the early Rathors and the Satis already mentioned; but tradition’s voice is mute as to the spot which contains the ashes of the Parihars. To the east and north-east, nature has formed at once a barrier to this antique castle, and a place of recreation for its inhabitants; a lengthened chasm in the whole face, appearing like a dark line, were it not for the superb foliage of gular, mango, and the sacred bar and pipal, which rise above the cleft, planted about the fountain and perpendicular cliffs of the Nagda, and which must have proved a luxurious retreat to the princes of Mandor from the reverberation of the sun’s rays on the rock-built palace; for there is but a scanty brushwood scattered over the surface, which is otherwise destitute of all vegetation.

Let us now descend by the same causeway to the glen of Panchkunda, where there is much to gratify both the lover of the picturesque and the architectural antiquary. At the foot of the causeway, terminated by a reservoir of good water, are two gateways, one conducting to the gardens and their palaces erected by the Rathors; the other, to the statues of the Paladins of the desert. Leaving both for a moment, I pursued the ‘serpentine’ rivulet to its fountain, where

I reposed in meditative indolence, overwhelmed with the recollections such scenes inspire. In a recess or cave is a rude altar sanctified by the name of Nahar Rao, the famed king of Mandor, who met in equal combat the chivalrous Chauhan in the pass of the Aravalli.^[24] A Nai, or barber, performs worship to the manes of this illustrious Rajput, in whose praise Chand is most eloquent. Whence the choice of a barber as a priest I know not; but as he has the universal care of the material portion of the Rajput, being always chosen as the cook, so there may be reasons for his having had an interest in the immaterial part in olden days, the tradition of which may have been lost. There is a piece of sculpture containing nine figures, said to represent Ravana, who came from “th’utmost isle Taprobane,”^[25] to marry the daughter of the sovereign of Mandor. There was a lengthened legend to account for the name of Nagda, or, ‘serpentine,’ being applied to the [729] rivulet, but it is too long to relate. We must therefore quit the fountain, where the gallant Prithiraj and his fair bride, the cause of strife between the Chauhans and Pariharas, may have reposed, and visit the most remarkable relic within the precincts of this singular place.

Images of Heroes.

—A short distance from the foot of the causeway, an archway opens into an enclosed court or area, in the retired part of which, and touching the mountain, is an extensive saloon; the roof is supported by a triple row of columns, of that light form peculiar to the Jains. Here are displayed, in all “the pomp and circumstance of war,” the statues of the knights-errant of the desert, armed cap-à-pie, bestriding steeds whose names are deathless as their riders’, all in the costume of the times in which they lived. They are cut out of the rock, but entirely detached from it, and larger than life. Though more conspicuous for strength than symmetry, the grim visages of these worthies, apparently frowning defiance, each attended by his pandu or squire, have a singularly pleasing effect. Each chieftain is armed with lance, sword, and buckler, with quiver and arrows, and poniard in his girdle. All are painted; but whether in the colours they were attached to, or according to the fancy of the architect, I know not. Before, however, entering this saloon, we pass a huge statue of Ganesa, placed as the guardian of the portal, having on each side the two Bhairavas, sons of the god of war. Then appears the statue of Chamunda (the goddess of destruction), and that of the terrific mother, Kankali, treading on the black demon Bhainsasur, in whose flank her tiger-courser has buried his bloodthirsty tongue: in each of her eight arms she holds a weapon of destruction. The black Bhairon (son of Time), with a sable flag, bearing argent a horse courant, marshals the way through the field of blood to his mother. Between her and the heroes whose lives passed “in devotion to the sword,” is a statue of the Nathji, or ‘spiritual guide’ of the Rathors: in one hand he holds his mala or ‘chaplet’; in the other his chhari or ‘patriarchal rod,’ for the guidance of his flock. Mallinath ^[26] heads the procession, mounted on a white charger, with a lance over his shoulder, to which is attached a flag; his quiver resting on his horse’s right flank, and his mistress, Padmavati, with a platter of food welcoming him from the raid, and who accompanied him when slain to Suryaloka, or ‘the mansion of the sun.’

Then follows Pabuji,^[27] mounted on his famous charger ‘Black Caesar’ (Kesar [730] Kali), whose exploits are the theme of the itinerant bard and showman, who annually goes his round, exhibiting in pictorial delineations, while he recites in rhyme, the deeds of this warrior to the gossiping villagers of the desert.

Next comes Ramdeo ^[28] Rathor, a name famed in Marudesa, and in whose honour altars are raised in every Rajput village in the country.

Then we have the brave Harbuji Sankhla,^[29] to whom Jodha was indebted for protection in his exile, and for the redemption of Mandor when seized by the Rana of Chitor.

Guga,^[30] the Chauhan, who with his forty-seven sons fell defending the passage of the Sutlej on Mahmud’s invasion. Mehaji Mangalia brings up the rear, a famous chieftain of the Guhilot race. It would be tedious to relate any of the exploits of these worthies.

Taintīs Kula Devata Ra Thān.

—Another saloon, of similar architecture and still greater dimensions, adjoins that just described; it is termed Taintis kula ^[31] devata ra than, or ‘abode of the (tutelary) divinities of the thirty-three races’: in short, the Pantheon of the Rajputs. The statues are of gypsum, or stone covered with that substance; they are of large proportions. First, is the creator, Brahma; then Surya, ‘the sun-god,’ with his seven-headed steed; then the monkey-faced deity, Hanuman; Rama, and his beloved Sita; Kanhaiya, in the woods of Vraj, surrounded by the Gopis; and a most grave figure of Mahadeva, with a bull in his hand. These six, with the goddesses of life and death, and of wisdom, constitute the eight chief divinities of the Hindus; whose qualities and attributes, personified, form an assemblage for which St. Peter’s and the Vatican to boot would be a confined dwelling.

Palace and Gardens.—I now retired to the palace and gardens built by Raja Ajit; of which, however superb, it is impossible for the pen to give a definite idea. Suites of colonnaded halls, covered with sculpture of easy and even graceful execution, some with screens of lattice-work to secure the ladies from the public gaze, are on the lower range; while staircases lead to smaller apartments intended for repose. The gardens, though not extensive, as may be supposed, being confined within the adamantine walls reared by the hand of Nature, must be delightfully cool even in summer. Fountains, reservoirs, and water-courses, are everywhere interspersed; and though [731] the thermometer in the open air was 86°,^[32] the cold within doors (if this be not a solecism, considering that there were no doors) was excessive. Some attention was paid to its culture; besides many indigenous shrubs, it boasted of some exotics. There was the golden champa,^[33] whose aroma is overpowering, and if laid upon the pillow will produce headache; the pomegranate, at once “rich in flower and fruit”; the apple of Sita, or Sitaphala, which, from similitude of taste, we call the custard-apple; a delicious species of the plantain, whose broad, verdant, glossy leaf alone inspires the mind with the sensation of coolness; the mogra;^[34] the chameli, or jessamine; and the queen of flowers, the barahmasha,^[35] literally the ‘twelve-month,’ because it flowers throughout the year. It is a delightful spot, and I felt a peculiar interest in it. Let the reader imagine the picture of a solitary Englishman scribbling amidst the ruins of Mandor: in front a group of venerable mango-trees; a little further an enormous isolated tamarind, “planted by the hand of a juggler in the time of Nahar Rao, the last of the Pariharas, before whom he exhibited this proof of legerdemain,” and, as the legend goes, from whose branches the juggler met his death:^[36] amidst its boughs the long-armed tribe, the allies of Rama, were skipping and chattering unmolested; while beneath, two Rathor Rajputs were stretched in sleep, their horses dozing beside them, standing as sedately as the statue of ‘Black Caesar’: a grenadier Sepoy of my escort parading by a camp-basket, containing the provender of the morning, completes the calm and quiet scene.

An Atīt Hermit.

—On the summit of the rock, across the narrow valley, several guphas, or caves, the abode of the hermit Atit,^[37] were in sight. How the brains of these ascetics can stand the heat and confined air is a wonder, though, if they possessed any portion of that which is supposed to be necessary to the guidance of the machine, they would scarcely occupy such a position, nor consequently, the world’s attention. Mais tout est vanité, a cause which has produced ten times the number of saints that piety has, and ten times of ten these troglodyte philosophers. Having walked out on the terrace or house-top of the palace, to catch a sunbeam and scare away an ague which tormented me, I discovered one of these animals coiled up on a heap of bat’s dung [732], in a corner of an apartment of the palace. He was dreadfully emaciated, and but for the rolling of a pair of eyes in a visage covered with hair, there was nothing which betokened animation, much less humanity. There was none but the bat to dispute his reign, or “the spider which weaves its web in this palace of the Caesars.” I had no inclination to disturb the process of ratiocination, or to ask to which sect of philosophers belonged this Diogenes of Mandor, who might, if he had utterance, have desired me to walk downstairs, and not intercept the sunbeam for whose warmth we were competitors. The day was now nearly departed, and it was time for me to return to my friends in camp. I finished the evening by another visit to the knights of the desert; and inscribing my name on the foot of ‘Black Caesar,’ bade adieu to the ancient Mandor.

November 13.—The Raja having invited us to a dinner at the palace, we sallied forth, belted and padded, to partake of Rajput hospitality. He had made a request which will appear somewhat strange—that we would send our cuisine, as the fare of the desert might prove unpalatable; but this I had often seen done at Sindhia’s camp, when joints of mutton, fowls, and fricassees would diversify the provender of the Mahratta. I intimated that we had no apprehension that we should not do justice to the gastronomy of Jodhpur; however, we sent our tables, and some claret to drink long life to the king of Marudes. Having paid our respects to our host, he dismissed us with the complimentary wish that appetite might wait upon us, and, preceded by a host of gold and silver sticks, we were ushered into a hall, where we found the table literally covered with curries, pillaus, and ragouts of every kind, in which was not forgotten the haria mung Mandor ra, the ‘green pulse of Mandor,’ the favourite dish, next to rabri or maize-porridge, of the simple Rathor. Here, however, we saw displayed the dishes of both the Hindu and Musulman, and nearly all were served in silver. The curries were excellent, especially those of the vegetable tribes made of the pulses, the kakris or cucumbers, and of a miniature melon not larger than an egg, which grows spontaneously in these regions, and is transported by kasids, or runners, as presents, for many hundreds of miles around. The hall was an entire new building, and scarcely finished; it is erected on the northern projection of the rock, where the escarpment is most abrupt, and looks down upon the site of the batteries of the league of 1806. It is called the Man mahall [733], and, like the hall of audience, its flat roof is supported by numerous massive hewn columns. The view from it to the east is extensive, and we were told that the pinnacle of Kumbhalmer, though eighty miles distant, has been seen, in those clear days of the monsoon when the atmosphere is purified, after heavy showers, from the sand which is held suspended. Great care was taken that our meal should be uninterrupted, and that we should not be the lions to an hour’s amusement of the court. There was but one trivial occurrence to interrupt the decorum and attention of all present, and that was so slight that we only knew it after the entertainment was over. One of the menials of the court, either from ignorance or design, was inclined to evince contumely or bad breeding. It will be considered perhaps a singular circumstance that the Hindu should place before a European the vessels from which he himself eats: but a little fire purifies any metallic vessels from all such contamination; and on this point the high-blooded Rajput is less scrupulous than the bigoted Muhammadan, whom I have seen throw on the ground with contempt a cup from which his officer had drunk water on a march. But of earthenware there can be no purification. Now there was a handsome china bowl, for which some old dowager fancier of such articles would have almost become a supplicant, which having been filled with curds to the Sudra Farangis could no longer be used by the prince, and it was brought by this menial, perhaps with those words, to my native butler. Kali Khan, or, as we familiarly called him, ‘the black lord,’ was of a temper not to be trifled with; and as the domestic held it in his hand, saying, “Take it, it is no longer of any use to us,” he gave it a tap with his hand which sent it over the battlements, and coolly resuming his work, observed, “That is the way in which all useless things should be served”; a hint which, if reported to Raja Man, he seems to have acted on: for not many months after, the minister, Akhai Chand, who dreaded lest European influence should release his master from his faction and thraldom, was treated by him in the same manner as the china bowl by Kali Khan.

The Rāja visits the Author.

—November 16.^[38]—This day had been fixed for the Raja’s visits to the envoy. In order to display his grandeur, he sent his own suite of tents, which were erected near mine [734]. They were very extensive, modelled in every way after those of the Emperors of Delhi, and lined throughout with the royal colour, crimson: but this is an innovation, as will appear from the formulas yet preserved of his despatches, “from the foot of the throne, Jodhpur.” The tent, in fact, was a palace in miniature, the whole surrounded by walls of cloth, to keep at a distance the profane vulgar. The gaddi, or royal cushion and canopy, was placed in the central apartment. At three, all was noise and bustle in the castle and town; nakkaras were reverberating, trumpets sounding the alarm, that the King of Maru was about to visit the Farangi Wakil. As soon as the flags and pennant were observed winding down ‘the hill of strife’ (Jodhagir), I mounted, and with the gentlemen of my suite proceeded through the town to meet the Raja. Having complimented him en route, we returned and received him at the tents. The escort drawn up at the entrance of the tent presented arms, the officers saluting; a mark of attention which gratified him, as did the soldier-like appearance of the men. Hitherto, what he had seen of regulars belonging to the native powers was not calculated to give him a favourable impression of foot-soldiers, who are little esteemed by the equestrian order of Rajputana. His visit continued about an hour, when the shields were brought in, with jewels, brocades, shawls, and other finery, in all nineteen trays, being two less than I presented to the Rana of Udaipur. I likewise presented him with some arms of English manufacture, a telescope, and smaller things much valued by the Rajputs. After the final ceremony of perfumes, and itr-pan (which are admirable hints when you wish to get rid of a tiresome guest, though not so in this instance), the exterior wall was removed, and showed the caparisoned elephant and horses, which were part of the khilat. At the door of the tent we made our salaam, when the Raja gave me his hand, which, by the by, was his first salutation on receiving me. It is an ancient Rajput custom, and their bards continually allude to extending the right hand—“dextra extenta.”

Taking Leave of the Rāja.

—November 17.^[39]—I went to take leave of the Raja: I had a long and interesting conversation on this our last interview. I left him in the full expectation that his energy of character would surmount the difficulties by which he was surrounded, though not without a struggle, and condign punishment to some of the miscreants, the misleaders of his son, the assassins of his minister and high priest, and consequently the authors of his humiliating and protracted incarceration [735]. Whether the first gratification of vengeance provoked his appetite, or whether the torrent of his rage, once impelled into motion, became too impetuous to be checked, so that his reason was actually disturbed by the sufferings he had undergone, it is certain he grew a demoniac; nor could any one, who had conversed with the bland, the gentlemanly, I might say gentle, Raja Man, have imagined that he concealed under this exterior a heart so malignant as his subsequent acts evinced. But the day of retribution must arrive; the men who wrote that dignified remonstrance, which is given in another place,^[40] will not tamely bear their wrongs, and as they dare not levy war against their prince, who reposes under British protection, the dagger will doubtless find a way to reach him even in “the thousand-columned hall” of Jodhpur.

Besides the usual gifts at parting, which are matter of etiquette, and remain untouched by the individual, I accepted as a personal token of his favour, a sword, dagger, and buckler, which had belonged to one of his illustrious ancestors. The weight of the sword, which had often been “the angel of death,” would convince any one that it must have been a nervous arm which carried it through a day. With mutual good wishes, and a request for a literary correspondence, which was commenced but soon closed, I bade adieu to Raja Man and the capital of Marwar [736].

22. Amongst ancient coins and medals, excavated from the ruins of Ujjain and other ancient cities, I possess a perfect series with all the symbolic emblems of the twenty-four Jain apostles. The compound equilateral triangle is amongst them: perhaps there were masons in those days amongst the Pali. It is hardly necessary to state that this Trinitarian symbol (the double triangle) occurs on our (so-called) Gothic edifices, e.g. the beautiful abbey gate of Bury St. Edmunds, Suffolk, erected about A.D. 1377. [See Count Goblet D’Alviella, The Migration of Symbols, 185 ff.]

35. [Sir D. Prain, who has kindly investigated this flower, identifies it with a species of Bauhinia. He remarks that “B. acuminata, which differs from B. purpurea and B. variegata, both in being a smaller plant and in beginning to flower when B. variegata does, goes on flowering all through the rains, and still continues to flower when B. purpurea is in blossom. It does not flower all the year round in Bengal, and I doubt if it does so in Rājputāna, though Balfour in his Cyclopaedia suggests that it does so. My idea is that the term bārah-māsha in Upper India should not be taken too literally, and that it is only a figurative way of saying that the particular Bauhinia is in flower alongside of both the others when flowering seasons are separated by half the year.”]

Nāndla.

—November 19.—We broke ground for Nandla, distant six miles. The first two miles from the capital was through deep sand; for the remainder of the journey the red sandstone protruded, which gives some relief to the footing of the traveller. About half-way we passed a small sheet of water, called after the mother of the pretender, Dhonkal Singh, the Shaikhawat Talao. This lady has constructed a dharmsala, or ‘hall for travellers,’ on its bank, where she has erected a statue of Hanuman, and a pillar to commemorate her own good works. Not a shrub of any magnitude occurs, for even the stunted khair ^[1] is rare in this plain of sand; which does not, however, appear unfavourable to the moth,^[2] a vetch on which they feed the cattle. Near the village we crossed the Jogini, the same stream which we passed between Jhalamand and the capital, and which, joined by the Nagda from Mandor, falls into the Luni. The only supply of water for Nandla is procured from two wells dug on the margin of the stream. The water is abundant, and only four feet from the surface, but brackish. There are a hundred and twenty-five houses in Nandla, which is in the fief of the chieftain of Ahor. A few cenotaphs are on the banks of a tank, now dry. I went to look at them, but they contained names “unknown to fame.”

Bīsalpur.

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

Pachkalia, Bīchkalia.

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

Pīpār.

—November 22.—Pipar, four coss (8 miles 2 furlongs). Pursued the course of the river, the most extended arm of the Luni, coming from the hills near Parbatsar, on the frontiers of Jaipur. Its course is marked by the trees already mentioned. The soil, a mixture of black earth and sand, is termed dhamani. Pipar is a town of 1500 houses, one-third of which are inhabited by the Oswals of the Jain faith, the chief merchants of all their country. There are also about two hundred families of Mahesris, or merchants of the Saiva caste. Pipar carries on a considerable traffic, and has a chintz manufactory, which employs thirty families. It is in the grant of the feudal chief of Nimaj, whose death has been already related. A cenotaph, dedicated to one of his ancestors, has been half destroyed by the Goths of India. Pipar is celebrated in the traditions of the desert as one of the cities [738] founded by Gandharvasen, the Pramara monarch of Avanti, prior to the Christian era.^[3] The only inscription I discovered was in a temple of the sea-goddess Lakshmi. It bore the names of Bijai Singh and Delanji, Rajputs of the Guhilot race, with the ancient title of Rawal. It was a happy confirmation of the most ancient chronicle of Mewar, which divides the Guhilots into twenty-four sakha or branches, of which one is called ‘Piparia,’ doubtless from their having conquered this tract from the Takshak Pramara.

There is an abundance of wells, from sixty to eighty feet in depth. Of one recently excavated, I obtained the following details of the strata, which may be gratifying to the geologist. The first twenty feet are composed entirely of that kind of earth called dhamani, chiefly decomposed sandstone with a mixture of black earth, in which occurs a stratum of bluish clay mixed with particles of quartz: this earth is called morar in Marwar, and morand in Jaipur. It was then necessary to cut through a rock of red granite ^[4] for thirty feet; then several feet of an almost milk-white steatite, succeeded by stalactitic concretions of sandstone and quartz.

Legend of the Sāmpu Lake.

—Good water is also obtained from a lake called the Sampu, which is connected with the tradition of the foundation of Pipar. A Brahman of the Pali tribe, whose name was Pipa, was in the habit of carrying milk to a deity of the Serpent (Takshak) race, whose retreat was on the banks of this lake, and who deposited two pieces of gold in return for the Paliwal’s offering. Being compelled to go to Nagor, he gave instructions to his son to perform his charitable office; but the youth, deeming it a good opportunity to become master of the treasure, took a stick with him, and when the serpent issued forth for his accustomed fare, he struck him violently; but the snake being “scotched, not killed,” retreated to his hole. The young Brahman related his adventure to his mother; when the good woman, dreading the vengeance of the serpentine deity, prepared a servant and bullock to convey her son to his father at Nagor. But what was her horror in the morning, when she went to call the youth, to find, instead of him, the huge serpent coiled up in his bed! Pipa, on his return, was inconsolable; but stifling his revenge, he propitiated the serpent with copious libations of milk. The scaly monster was conciliated, and revealed the stores he guarded to Pipa, commanding him to raise a monument which would transmit a knowledge of the event to future ages [739]. Hence Pipar arose from Pipa the Pali, and the name of the lake Sampu, from his benefactor the ‘serpent’ (sampa). All these allegorical tales regard the Takshak races, the followers of the religion of Buddha or Jaina, and their feuds with the Brahmanical sects. It is evident that Pipa the Pali worshipped both; and the very name induces a belief that the whole Paliwal caste are converts from Buddhism.^[5]

Lākha Phulāni.

—There is a kund or fountain, called after Lakha Phulani, who ruled in ancient times at Phulra, in the farther corner of the desert, but carried his arms even to the ocean. Wherever I have travelled, tradition is loud in praise of Phulani, from the source of the Luni to its embouchure in the Delta of the Indus.^[6]

Mādreo.

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

Bharūnda.

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

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