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

Invasion of Nādir Shāh.

—It was during the reign of Abhai Singh that Nadir Shah ^[15] invaded India; but the summons to the Rajput princes, to put forth their strength in support of the tottering throne of Timur, was received with indifference. Not a chief of note led his myrmidons to the plains of Karnal; and Delhi was invested, plundered, and its monarch dethroned, without exciting a sigh. Such was their apathy in the cause, when the imbecility of Muhammad Shah succeeded to the inheritance of Aurangzeb, that with their own hands these puppets of despotism sapped the foundations of the empire.

Unfortunately for Rajputana, the demoralization of her princes prevented their turning to advantage this depression of the empire, in whose follies and crimes they participated.

With the foul and monstrous murder of the Raja Ajit (A.D. 1750) commenced those bloody scenes which disgrace the annals of Marwar; yet even in the history of her crimes there are acts of redeeming virtue, which raise a sentiment of regret that the lustre of the one should be tarnished by the presence of the other. They serve, however, to illustrate that great moral truth, that in every stage of civilization crime will work out its own punishment; and grievously has the parricidal murder of Ajit been visited on his race and country. We shall see it acting as a blight on that magnificent tree, which, transplanted from the native soil of the Ganges, took root and flourished amidst the arid sands of the desert, affording a goodly shade for a daring race, who acquired fresh victories with poverty—we shall see its luxuriance checked, and its numerous and widely spread branches, as if [115] scorched by the lightnings of heaven, wither and decay; and they must utterly perish, unless a scion, from the uncontaminated stem of Idar,^[16] be grafted upon it: then it may revive, and be yet made to yield more vigorous fruit.

CHAPTER 12

Rāja Rām Singh, A.D. 1750-52.

—Ram Singh succeeded at that dangerous age when parental control is most required to restrain the turbulence of passion. Exactly twenty years had elapsed since the nuptials at Sirohi, when Hymen extinguished the torch of discord, and his mother was the bearer of the olive branch to Abhai Singh, to save her house from destruction. The Rajput, who attaches everything to pedigree, has a right to lay an interdict on the union of the race of Agni,^[1] with the already too fiery blood of the Rathor. Ram Singh inherited the arrogance of his father, with all the impetuosity of the Chauhans; and the exhibition of these qualities was simultaneous with his coronation. We are not told why his uncle, Bakhta Singh, absented himself from the ceremony of his prince’s and nephew’s installation, when the whole kin and clans of Maru assembled to ratify their allegiance by their presence. As the first in blood and rank, it was his duty to make the first mark of inauguration on the [116] forehead of his prince. The proxy he chose on the occasion was his Dhai, or ‘nurse,’ a personage of no small importance in those countries. Whether by such a representative the haughty warrior meant to insinuate that his nephew should yet be in leading strings, the chronicle affords us no hint; but it reprehends Ram Singh’s conduct to this venerable personage, whom, instead of treating, according to usage, with the same respect as his mother, he asked, “if his uncle took him for an ape, that he sent an old hag to present him with the tika?” and instantly dispatched an express desiring the surrender of Jalor. Ere his passion had time to cool, he commanded his tents to be moved out, that he might chastise the insult to his dignity. Despising the sober wisdom of the counsellors of the state, he had given his confidence to one of the lowest grade of these hereditary officers, by name Amia, the Nakkarchi,^[2] a man headstrong like himself. The old chief of the Champawats, on hearing of this act of madness, repaired to the castle to remonstrate; but scarcely had he taken his seat before the prince assailed him with ridicule, desiring “to see his frightful face as seldom as possible.” “Young man,” exclaimed the indignant chief, as with violence he dashed his shield reversed upon the carpet, “you have given mortal offence to a Rathor, who can turn Marwar upside down as easily as that shield.” With eyes darting defiance, he arose and left the Presence, and collecting his retainers, marched to Mundiavar.^[3] This was the residence of the Pat-Bardai, or ‘chief bard,’ the lineal descendant of the Bardai Roera, who left Kanauj with Siahji. The esteem in which his sacred office was held may be appreciated by his estate, which equalled that of the first noble, being one lakh of rupees (£10,000) of revenue.

The politic Bakhta, hearing of the advance of the chief noble of Maru on the border of his territory, left Nagor, and though it was midnight, advanced to welcome him. The old chief was asleep; Bakhta forbade his being disturbed, and placed himself quietly beside his pallet. As he opened his eyes, he called as usual for his pipe (hukka), when the attendant pointing to the prince, the old chief scrambled up. Sleep had cooled his rage, and the full force of his position rushed upon him; but seeing there was now no retreat, that the Rubicon was crossed, “Well, there is my head,” said he; “now it is yours.” The bard, who was present at the interview, was sounded by being requested to bring the chief’s wife and family from [117] Awa to Nagor; and he gave his assent in a manner characteristic of his profession: “farewell to the gate of Jodhpur,” alluding to the station of the bard. The prince immediately replied, “there was no difference between the gate of Jodhpur and Nagor; and that while he had a cake of bajra he would divide it with the bard.”

Civil War between Rām Singh and Bakht Singh.

—Ram Singh did not allow his uncle much time to collect a force; and the first encounter was at Kherli. Six actions rapidly followed; the last was at Lunawas, on the plains of Merta, with immense loss of life on both sides. This sanguinary battle has been already related,^[4] in which Ram Singh was defeated, and forced to seek safety in flight; when Jodhpur was surrendered, and Bakhta invested with the Rajtilak and sword by the hands of the Jethawat chief of Bagri, whose descendants continue to enjoy this distinction, with the title of Marwar ka bar Kewar, ‘the bar to the portal of Marwar.’

Accession of Bakht Singh, A.D. 1752-53.

—With the possession of the seat of government, and the support of a great majority of the clans, Bakhta Singh felt secure against all attempts of his nephew to regain his lost power. But although his popularity with his warlike kindred secured their suffrages for his maintenance of the throne which the sword had gained him, there were other opinions which Bakhta Singh was too politic to overlook. The adhesion of the hereditary officers of the State, especially those personal to the sovereign, is requisite to cloak the crime of usurpation, in which light only, whatever the extent of provocation, Bakhta’s conduct could be regarded. The military premier, as well as the higher civil authorities, were won to his cause, and of those whose sacred office might seem to sanctify the crime, the chief bard had already changed his post “for the gate of Nagor.” But there was one faithful servant, who, in the general defection, overlooked the follies of his prince, in his adherence to the abstract rules of fidelity; and who, while his master found refuge at Jaipur, repaired to the Deccan to obtain the aid of the Mahrattas, the mercenaries of Rajputana. Jaga was the name of this person; his office, that of Purohit, the ghostly adviser of his prince and tutor to his children. Bakhta, at once desirous to obtain his suffrage, and to arrest the calamity of foreign invasion, sent a couplet in his own hand to the Purohit:

“The flower, O bee, whose aroma regaled you, has been assailed by the blast; not a leaf of the rose-tree is left; why longer cling to the thorns?” [118]

The reply was in character: “In this hope does the bee cling to the denuded rose-tree; that spring may return, and fresh flowers bud forth.”^[5]

Intervention of Mahādaji Sindhia.

—There was a joyousness of soul about Bakhta which, united to an intrepidity and a liberality alike unbounded, made him the very model of a Rajput. To these qualifications were superadded a majestic mien and Herculean frame, with a mind versed in all the literature of his country, besides poetic talent of no mean order; and but for that one damning crime, he would have been handed down to posterity as one of the noblest princes Rajwara ever knew. These qualities not only riveted the attachment of the household clans, but secured the respect of all his exterior relations, so that when the envoy of the expatriated prince obtained Sindhia’s aid for the restoration of Ram Singh, the popularity of Bakhta formed an army which appalled the “Southron,” who found arrayed against him all the choice swords of Rajwara. The whole allodial power of the desert, “the sons of Siahji” of every rank, rose to oppose this first attempt of the Mahrattas to interfere in their national quarrels, and led by Bakhta in person, advanced to meet Mahadaji, the Patel.^[6] But the Mahratta, whose object was plunder rather than glory, satisfied that he had little chance of either, refused to measure his lance (barchhi) with the sang and sirohi^[7] of the Rajput.

Bakht Singh Poisoned.

—Poison effected what the sword could not accomplish. Bakhta determined to remain encamped in that vulnerable point of access to his dominions, the passes near Ajmer. Hither, the Rathor queen of Madho Singh, prince of Amber, repaired to compliment her relative, and to her was entrusted the task of removing the enemy of her nephew, Ram Singh. The mode in which the deed was effected, as well as the last moments of the heroic but criminal Bakhta, have been already related.^[8] He died in S. 1809 (A.D. 1753), leaving a disputed succession, and all the horrors of impending civil strife, to his son, Bijai Singh.

Repression of Islām.

—During his three years of sovereignty, Bakhta had found both time and resources to strengthen and embellish the strongholds of Marwar. He completed the fortifications [119] of the capital, and greatly added to the palace of Jodha, from the spoils of Ahmadabad. He retaliated the injuries on the intolerant Islamite, and threw down his shrines and his mosques in his own fief of Nagor, and with the wrecks restored the edifices of ancient days. It was Bakhta also who prohibited, under pain of death, the Islamite’s call to prayer throughout his dominions, and the order remains to this day unrevoked in Marwar. Had he been spared a few years to direct the storm then accumulating, which transferred power from the haughty Tatar of Delhi to the peasant soldier of the Kistna, the probability was eminently in favour of the Rajputs resuming their ancient rights throughout India. Every principality had the same motive for union in one common cause, the destruction of a power inimical to their welfare: but crimes, moral and political, rendered an opportunity, such as never occurred in their history, unavailing for their emancipation from temporal and spiritual oppression.

Rājput Morals compared with those of Europe in the Middle Ages.

—We will here pause, and anticipating the just horror of the reader, at finding crime follow crime—one murder punished by another—prevent his consigning all the Rajput dynasties to infamy, because such foul stains appear in one part of their annals. Let him cast his eyes over the page of western history; and commencing with the period of Siahji’s emigration in the eleventh century, when the curtain of darkness was withdrawn from Europe, as it was simultaneously closing upon the Rajput, contrast their respective moral characteristics. The Rajput chieftain was imbued with all the kindred virtues of the western cavalier, and far his superior in mental attainments. There is no period on record when these Hindu princes could not have signed their names to a charter; many of them could have drawn it up, and even invested it, if required, in a poetic garb; and although this consideration perhaps enhances, rather than palliates, crime, what are the instances in these States, we may ask, compared to the wholesale atrocities of the ‘Middle Ages’ of Europe?

The reader would also be wrong if he leaped to the conclusion that the bardic chronicler passed no judgment on the princely criminal. His “empoisoned stanzas” (vishwa sloka), transmitted to posterity by the mouth of the peasant and the prince, attest the reverse. One couplet has been recorded, stigmatizing Bakhta for the murder of his father; there is another of the chief bard, improvised while his prince Abhai Singh and Jai Singh of Amber were passing the period devoted [120] to religious rites at the sacred lake of Pushkar. These ceremonies never stood in the way of festivity; and one evening, while these princes and their vassals were in the height of merriment, the bard was desired to contribute to it by some extemporaneous effusion. He rose, and vociferated in the ears of the horror-struck assembly the following quatrain:—

“[The princes of] Jodhpur and Amber can dethrone the enthroned. But the Kurma ^[9] slew his son; the Kamdhaj ^[10] murdered his father.”

The words of the poetic seer sank into the minds of his hearers, and passed from mouth to mouth. They were probably the severest vengeance either prince experienced in this world, and will continue to circulate down to the latest posterity. It was the effusion of the same undaunted Karna, who led the charge with his prince against the troops of Amber.

The Curse of a Sati.

—We have also the anathema of the prophetic Sati, wife of Ajit, who, as she mounted the pyre with her murdered lord, pronounced that terrific sentence to the ears of the patriotic Rajput: “May the bones of the murderer be consumed out of Maru.Maru.”^[11] In the value they attach to the fulfilment of the prophecy, we have a commentary on the supernatural power attached to these self-devoted victims. The record of the last moments of Bakhta, in the dialogue with his doctor,^[12] is a scene of the highest dramatic and moral interest; and, if further comment were required, demonstrates the operations of the hell within, as well as the abhorrence the Rajput entertains for such crimes [121].

CHAPTER 13

Rāja Bijai Singh, A.D. 1753-93.

—Bijai Singh, then in his twentieth year, succeeded his father, Bakhta. His accession was acknowledged not only by the emperor, but by all the princes around him, and he was inaugurated at the frontier town of Marot,^[1] when proceeding to Merta, where he passed the period of matam or mourning. Hither the independent branches of his family, of Bikaner, Kishangarh, and Rupnagarh, came simultaneously with their condolence and congratulations. Thence he advanced to the capital, and concluded the rites on death and accession with gifts and charities which gratified all expectations.

Rām Singh invites Marātha Aid.

—The death of his uncle afforded the ex-prince, Ram Singh, the chance of redeeming his birthright; and in conjunction with the prince of Amber, he concluded a treaty ^[2] with the Mahrattas, the stipulations of which were sworn to by their leaders. The “Southrons” advanced by Kotah and Jaipur, where Ram Singh [122], with his personal adherents and a strong auxiliary band of Amber, united their forces, and they proceeded to the object in view, the dethronement of Bijai Singh.

The Battle of Merta.

—Bijai Singh was prepared for the storm, and led his native chivalry to the plains of Merta, where, animated with one impulse, a determination to repel foreign interference, they awaited the Mahrattas, to decide the rival claims to the throne of the desert.^[3] The bard delights to enumerate the clans who mustered all their strength; and makes particular allusion to the allodial Pattawats, who were foremost on this occasion. From Pushkar, where the combined army halted, a summons was sent to Bijai Singh “to surrender the gaddi of Maru.” It was read in full convention and answered with shouts of “Battle! Battle!” “Who is this Hapa,^[4] thus to scare us, when, were the firmament to fall, our heads would be pillars of support to preserve you?” Such is the hyperbole of the Rajput when excited, nor does his action fall far short of it. The numerical odds were immense against the Rathors; but they little esteemed the Kachhwahas, and their courage had very different aliment to sustain it, from the mercenary Southron. The encounter was of the most desperate description, and the bard deals out a full measure of justice to all.

Two accidents occurred during the battle, each sufficient to turn victory from the standard of Bijai Singh, on the very point of fruition. One has elsewhere been related,^[5] namely, the destruction of the “Silahposhians,” or cuirassiers, the chosen cohort of the Rathors, when returning from a successful charge, who were mistaken for the foe, and mowed down with discharges of grape-shot. This error, at a moment when the courage of the Mahrattas was wavering, might have been retrieved, notwithstanding the superstitious converted the disaster into an omen of evil. Sindhia had actually prepared to quit the field, when another turn of the wheel decided the event in his favour: the circumstance exhibits forcibly the versatile character of the Rajput.

Treachery of Sardār Singh of Kishangarh.

—The Raja of Kishangarh had deprived his relative of Rupnagar of his estates; both were junior branches of Marwar, but held direct from the emperor. Sawant Singh, chieftain of Rupnagar, either from constitutional indifference or [123] old age, retired to the sanctuary of Brindaban on the Jumna, and, before the shrine of the Hindu Apollo, poured forth his gratitude for “his escape from hell,” in the loss of his little kingdom. But it was in vain he attempted to inspire young Sardar with the like contempt of mundane glory; to his exhortations the youth replied, “It is well for you, Sire,^[6] who have enjoyed life, to resign its sweets so tranquilly; but I am yet a stranger to them.” Taking advantage of the times, he determined to seek a stronger auxiliary for the recovery of his rights than the poetic homilies of Jayadeva. Accordingly, he joined the envoy of Ram Singh, and returned with the Mahratta army, on whose successful operations his hope of reconquering his patrimony rested. It was at that moment of doubt that Apa, the Mahratta commander, thus addressed young Sardar: “Your star, young man, is united to Ram Singh’s, which fortune does not favour; what more is to be done before we move off?” Inexperienced as he was, Sardar knew his countrymen, and their vacillation when touched by superstition; and he obtained permission to try a ruse, as a last resort. He dispatched a horseman of his own clan to the division which pressed them most, who, coming up to the Mainot minister, as if of his own party, asked “what they were fighting for, as Bijai Singh lay dead, killed by a cannon-shot in another part of the field?” Like the ephemeral tribe of diplomacy, the Mainot saw his sun was set. He left the field, followed by the panic-struck clans, amongst whom the report circulated like wildfire. Though accustomed to these stratagems, with which their annals teem, the Rajputs are never on their guard against them; not a man inquired into the truth of the report, and Bijai Singh,—who, deeming himself in the very career of victory, was coolly performing his devotions amidst the clash of swords,—was left almost alone, even without attendants or horses. The lord of Marwar, who, on that morning, commanded the lives of one hundred thousand Rajputs, was indebted for his safety to the mean conveyance of a cart and pair of oxen.^[7]

Every clan had to erect tablets for the loss of their best warriors; and as in their civil wars each strove to be foremost in devotion, most of the chieftains of note [124] were amongst the slain.^[8] The bard metes out a fair measure of justice to their auxiliaries, especially the Saktawats of Mewar, whose swords were unsheathed in the cause of the son-in-law of their prince. Nor is the lance of the Southron passed over without eulogy, to praise which, indeed, is to extol themselves.

Results of Rāthor Defeat.

—With the loss of this battle and the dispersion of the Rathors, the strongholds rapidly fell. The cause of Ram Singh was triumphing, and the Mahrattas were spreading over the land of Maru, when foul assassination checked their progress.^[9] But the death of Jai Apa, which converted his hordes from auxiliaries to principals in the contest, called aloud for vengeance, that was only to be appeased by the cession of Ajmer, and a fixed triennial tribute on all the lands of Maru, both feudal and fiscal. This arrangement being made, the Mahrattas displayed the virtue common to such mercenary allies: they abandoned Ram Singh to his ‘evil star,’ and took possession of this stronghold, which, placed in the very heart of Rajasthan, perpetuated their influence over its princes.

With this gem, thus rudely torn from her diadem, the independence of Marwar from that hour has been insecure. She has struggled on, indeed, through a century of invasions, rebellions, and crimes, all originating, like the blank leaf on her annals, from the murder of Ajit. In the words of the Doric stanza of the hostile bards on this memorable chastisement:

“For many a day will they remember the time (hel) of Apa, when the three sovereigns fled, abandoning their goods and treasures”: alluding to the princes of Marwar, Bikaner, and Kishangarh, who partook in the disasters and disgrace of that day [125].

The youthful heir of Rupnagar claimed, as he justly might, the victory to himself; and going up to Apa to congratulate him, said, in the metaphorical language of his country, “You see I sowed mustard-seed in my hand as I stood”: comparing the prompt success of his stratagem to the rapid vegetation of the seed. But Sardar was a young man of no ordinary promise; for when Sindhia, in gratitude, offered immediately to put him in possession of Rupnagar, he answered, “No; that would be a retrograde movement,” and told him to act for his master Ram Singh, “whose success would best insure his own.” But when treachery had done its worst on Jai Apa, suspicion, which fell on every Rajput in the Mahratta camp, spared not Sardar: swords were drawn in every quarter, and even the messengers of peace, the envoys, were everywhere assailed, and amongst those who fell ere the tumult could be appeased, was Rawat Kabir Singh, the premier noble of Mewar, then ambassador from the Rana with the Mahrattas.^[11] With his last breath, Jai Apa protected and exonerated Sardar, and enjoined that his pledge of restoration to his patrimony should be redeemed. The body of this distinguished commander was burned at the Taussar, or ‘Peacock pool,’ where a cenotaph was erected, and in the care which the descendants even of his enemies pay to it, we have a test of the merits of both victor and vanquished.

Death of Rām Singh.

—This was the last of twenty-two battles, in which Ram Singh was prodigal of his life for the recovery of his honours. The adversity of his later days had softened the asperity of his temper, and made his early faults be forgotten, though too late for his benefit. He died in exile at Jaipur in A.D. 1773. His person was gigantic; his demeanour affable and courteous; and he was generous to a fault. His understanding was excellent and well cultivated, but his capricious temperament, to which he gave vent with an unbridled vehemence, disgusted the high-minded nobles of Maru, and involved him in exile and misery till his death. It is universally admitted that, both in exterior and accomplishments, not even the great Ajit could compare with Ram Singh, and witchcraft, at the instigation of the chieftain of Asop, is assigned to account for his fits of insanity, which might be better attributed to the early and immoderate use of opium. But in spite of his errors, the fearless courage he displayed, against all odds, kept some of the [126] most valiant of the clans constant to his fortunes, especially the brave Mertias, under the heroic Sher Singh of Rian, whose deeds can never be obliterated from the recollections of the Rathor. Not the least ardent of his adherents was the allodial chief Rup Singh, of the almost forgotten clan, Pattawat; who held out in Phalodi against all attempts, and who, when provisions failed, with his noble associates, slew and ate their camels. The theme is a favourite one for the Kamarya ^[12] minstrel of Maru, who sings the fidelity of Rupa and his band to the notes of his rabab,^[13] to their ever attentive descendants.

The Character of Rāja Rām Singh.

—We may sum up the character of Ram Singh in the words of the bard, as he contrasts him with his rival. “Fortune never attended the stirrup of Bijai Singh, who never gained a battle, though at the head of a hundred thousand men; but Ram Singh, by his valour and conduct, gained victories with a handful.”

The death of Ram Singh was no panacea to the griefs of Marwar or of its prince. The Mahrattas, who had now obtained a point-d’appui in Rajwara, continued to foster disputes which tended to their advantage, or when opportunity offered, to scour the country in search of pay or plunder. Bijai Singh, young and inexperienced, was left without resources; ruinous wars and yet more ruinous negotiations had dissipated the hoards of wealth accumulated by his predecessors. The crown-lands were uncultivated, the tenantry dispersed; and commerce had diminished, owing to insecurity and the licentious habits of the nobles, who everywhere established their own imposts, and occasionally despoiled entire caravans. While the competitor for the throne was yet living, the Raja was compelled to shut his eyes on these inroads upon his proper power, which reduced him to insignificance even in his own palace.

Power of the Aristocracy of Mārwār.

—The aristocracy in Marwar has always possessed more power than in any of the sister principalities around. The cause may be traced to their first settlement in the desert; and it has been kept in action by the peculiarities of their condition, especially in that protracted struggle for the rights of the minor Ajit, against the despotism of the empire. There was another cause, which, at the present juncture, had a very unfortunate influence on the increase of this preponderance, and which arose out of the laws of adoption.

The Pokaran Fief.

—The fief of Pokaran, the most powerful (although a junior) branch of the Champawat clan, adopted a son of Raja Ajit as their chief; his name was Devi Singh [127]. The right of adoption, as has been already explained, rests with the widow of the deceased and the elders of the clan. Why they exercised it as they did on this occasion does not appear; but not improbably at the suggestion of the dying chief, who wished to see his sovereign’s large family provided for, having no sons of his own: or, the immediate claimants may not have possessed the qualities necessary to lead a clan of Maru. Although the moment such adoption takes place, when “the turban of the late incumbent encircled the new lord of Pokaran,” he ought to forget he had any other father than him he succeeded, yet we can easily imagine that, in the present case, his propinquity to the throne, which under other circumstances he might soon have forgotten, was continually forced upon his recollection by the contentions of his parricidal brothers and their offspring for the ‘cushion’ of Marwar. It exemplifies another feature in Rajput institutions, which cut off this son (guiltless of all participation in the treason) from succession, because he was identified with the feudality; while the issue of another, and junior brother, at the same period adopted into the independent house of Idar,^[14] were heirs presumptive to Marwar; nay, must supply it with a ruler on failure of heirs, though they should have but one son and be compelled to adopt in his room.^[15]

Mercenaries enrolled.

—The Champawats determined to maintain their influence over the sovereign and the country; and Devi Singh leagued with Awa and the other branches of this clan to the exclusion of all competitors. They formed of their own body a guard of honour for the person of the prince, one half remaining on duty in the castle, the other half being in the town below. While the Raja would lament the distracted state of his country, the inroads of the hill tribes, and the depredations of his own chiefs, Devi Singh of Pokaran would reply, “Why trouble yourself about Marwar? it is in the sheath of my dagger.” The young prince used to unburthen his griefs to his foster-brother Jaga, a man of caution and experience, which qualities he instilled into his sovereign. By dissimulation, and an apparent acquiescence in their plans, he not only eluded suspicion, but, availing himself of their natural indolence of character, at length obtained leave not only to entertain some men of Sind as guards for the town, but to provide supplies for their subsistence: the first approximation towards a standing mercenary force, till then unknown in their annals [128]. We do not mean that the Rajput princes never employed any other than their own feudal clans; they had foreign Rajputs in their pay, but still on the same tenure, holding lands for service; but never till this period had they soldiers entertained on monthly stipend. These hired bands were entirely composed of infantry, having a slight knowledge of European tactics, the superiority of which, even over their high-minded cavaliers, they had so severely experienced in their encounters with the Mahrattas. The same causes had operated on the courts of Udaipur and Jaipur to induce them to adopt the like expedient; to which, more than to the universal demoralization which followed the breaking up of the empire, may be attributed the rapid decay of feudal principles throughout Rajputana. These guards were composed either of Purbia ^[16] Rajputs, Sindis, Arabs, or Rohillas. They received their orders direct from the prince, through the civil officers of the State, by whom they were entrusted with the execution of all duties of importance or dispatch. Thus they soon formed a complete barrier between the prince and his vassals, and consequently became objects of jealousy and of strife. In like manner did all the other States make approaches towards a standing army; and though the motive in all cases was the same, to curb, or even to extinguish, the strength of the feudal chiefs, it has failed throughout, except in the solitary instance of Kotah, where twenty well-disciplined battalions, and a hundred pieces of artillery, are maintained chiefly from the feudal sequestrations.

To return: the Dhabhai, having thus secured a band of seven hundred men, and obtained an aid (which we may term scutage) from the chiefs for their maintenance, gradually transferred them from their duties above to the gates of the castle. Somewhat released from the thraldom of faction, the Raja concerted with his foster-brother and the Diwan, Fateh Chand, the means of restoring prosperity and order. So destitute was the prince of resources, that the Dhabhai had recourse to threats of suicide to obtain 50,000 rupees from his mother, acquired as the nurse (dhai) of his sovereign; and so drained was the country of horses, that he was compelled to transport his cavaliers (who were too proud to walk) on cars to Nagor. There, under the pretence of curbing the hill tribes, he formed an army, and dismounting the guns from the walls of the town, marched an ill-equipped force against the border-mountaineers, and being successful he attacked on his return [129] the castle of Silbakri. This was deemed a sufficient indication of his views; the whole feudality of Maru took alarm, and united for mutual safety at Bisalpur, twenty miles east of the capital.