Raja Guman, however, had neither forgotten nor forgiven his competitor, and refused to receive him: but in no wise daunted, he trusted to his address, and thrust himself unbidden on the prince. The moment he chose proved favourable; and he was not only pardoned, but employed [521].

The retention of a power thus acquired, it may be concluded, could never be effected without severity, nor the vigorous authority, wielded throughout a period beyond the ordinary limits of mortality, be sustained without something more potent than persuasion. Still, when we consider Zalim’s perilous predicament, and the motives to perpetual reaction, his acts of severity are fewer than might have been expected, or than occur in the course of usurpation under similar circumstances. Mature reflection initiated all his measures, and the sagacity of their conception was only equalled by the rapidity of their execution. Whether the end in view was good or evil, nothing was ever half-done; no spark was left to excite future conflagration. Even this excess of severity was an advantage; it restrained the repetition of what, whether morally right or wrong, he was determined not to tolerate. To pass a correct judgment on these acts is most difficult. What in one case was a measure of barbarous severity, appears in another to have been one indispensable to the welfare of the State. But this is not the place to discuss the character or principles of the regent; let us endeavour to unfold both in the exhibition of those acts which have carried him through the most tempestuous sea of political convulsion in the whole history of India. When nought but revolution and rapine stalked through the land, when State after State was crumbling into dust, or sinking into the abyss of ruin, he guided the vessel entrusted to his care safely through all dangers, adding yearly to her riches, until he placed her in security under the protection of Britain [523].

The next combination was more formidable; it was headed by Deo Singh of Aton,^[11] who enjoyed an estate of sixty thousand rupees rent. He strongly fortified his castle, and was joined by all the discontented nobles, determined to get rid of the authority which crushed them. The regent well knew the spirits he had to cope with, and that the power of the State was insufficient. By means of ‘the help of Moses’ (such is the interpretation of Musa Madad, his auxiliary on this occasion), this struggle against his authority also only served to confirm it; and their measures recoiled on the heads of the feudality. The condition of society since the dissolution of the imperial power was most adverse to the institutions of Rajwara, the unsupported valour of whose nobles was no match for the mercenary force which their rulers could now always command from those bands, belonging to no government, but roaming whither they listed over this vast region, in search of pay or plunder. The ‘help of Moses’ was the leader of one of these associations—a name well known in the history of that agitated period; and he not only led a well-appointed infantry brigade, but had an efficient park attached to it, which was brought to play against Aton. It held out several months, the garrison meanwhile making many sallies, which it required the constant vigilance of Moses to repress. At length, reduced to extremity, they demanded and obtained an honourable capitulation, being allowed to retire unmolested whither they pleased. Such was the termination of this ill-organized insurrection, which involved almost all the feudal chiefs of Kotah in exile and ruin, and strengthened the regent, or as he would say, the state, by the escheat of the sequestrated property. Deo Singh of Aton, the head of this league, died in exile. After several years of lamentation in a foreign soil for the janam bhum, the ‘land of their birth,’ the son pleaded for pardon, though his heart denied all crime, and was fortunate enough to obtain his recall, and the estate of Bamolia, of fifteen thousand rupees rent. The inferior members of the opposition were treated with the same contemptuous clemency; they were admitted into Kotah, but deprived of the power of doing mischief. What stronger proof of the political courage of the regent can be adduced, than his shutting up such combustible materials within the social edifice, and even living amongst and with them, as if he deserved their friendship rather than their hatred [526].

In combating such associations, and thus cementing his power, time passed away. His marriage with one of the distant branches of the royal house of Mewar, by whom he had his son and successor Madho Singh, gave Zalim an additional interest in the affairs of that disturbed State, of which he never lost sight amidst the troubles which more immediately concerned him. The motives which, in S. 1847 (A.D. 1791), made him consider for a time the interests of Kotah as secondary to those of Mewar, are related at length in the annals of that State;^[12] and the effect of this policy on the prosperity of Kotah, drained of its wealth in the prosecution of his views, will appear on considering the details of his system. Referring the reader, therefore, to the Annals of Mewar, we shall pass from S. 1847 to S. 1856 (A.D. 1800), when another attempt was made by the chieftains to throw off the iron yoke of the protector.

According to the apologists of the regent, this act was one of just retribution, since it was less to defend himself and his immediate interests than those of the prince whose power and existence were threatened by the insurrection, which had for its object his deposal and the elevation of one of his brothers. The members of the Maharao’s family at this period were his uncle Raj Singh, and his two brothers, Gordhan and Gopal Singh. Since the rebellion of Aton, these princes had been under strict surveillance; but after this instance of reaction, in which their names were implicated as having aspired to supplant their brother, a more rigorous seclusion was adopted; and the rest of their days was passed in solitary confinement. Gordhan, the elder, died about ten years after his incarceration; the younger, Gopal, lived many years longer; but neither from that day quitted the walls of their prison, until death released them from this dreadful bondage. Kaka Raj Singh lived to extreme old age; but, as he took no part in these turmoils, he remained unmolested, having the range of the temples in the city, beyond which limits he had no wish to stray.

We may in this place introduce a slip from the genealogical tree of the forfeited branch of Bishan Singh, but which, in the person of his grandson Ajit, regained its rights and the gaddi. The fate of this family will serve as a specimen of the policy pursued by the regent towards the feudal interests of Kotah. It is appalling, when thus marshalled, to view the sacrifices which the maintenance of power will demand in these feudal States, where individual will is law.

The plots against the existence and authority of the Protector were of every description, and no less than eighteen are enumerated, which his never-slumbering vigilance detected and baffled. The means were force, open and concealed, poison, the dagger—until at length he became sick of precaution. “I could not always be on my guard,” he would say. But the most dangerous of all was a female conspiracy, got up in the palace, and which discovers an amusing mixture of tragedy and farce, although his habitual wariness would not have saved him from being its victim, had he not been aided by the boldness of a female champion, from a regard for the personal attractions of the handsome regent. He was suddenly sent for by the queen-mother of one of the young princes, and while waiting in an antechamber, expecting every instant ‘the voice behind the curtain,’ he found himself encircled by a band of Amazonian Rajputnis, armed with sword and dagger, from whom, acquainted as he was with the nerve, physical and moral, of his countrywomen, he saw no hope of salvation [528]. Fortunately, they were determined not to be satisfied merely with his death, they put him upon his trial; and the train of interrogation into all the acts of his life was going on, when his preserving angel, in the shape of the chief attendant of the dowager queen, a woman of masculine strength and courage, rushed in, and, with strong dissembled anger, drove him forth amidst a torrent of abuse for presuming to be found in such a predicament.

While bathing, and during the heat of the chase, his favourite pursuit, similar attempts have been made, but they always recoiled on the heads of his enemies. Yet, notwithstanding the multitude of these plots, which would have unsettled the reason of many, he never allowed a blind suspicion to add to the victims of his policy; and although, for his personal security, he was compelled to sleep in an iron cage, he never harboured unnecessary alarm, that parent of crime and blood in all usurpations. His lynx-like eye saw at once who was likely to invade his authority, and these knew their peril from the vigilance of a system which never relaxed. Entire self-reliance, a police such as perhaps no country in the world could equal, establishments well paid, services liberally rewarded, character and talent in each department of the State, himself keeping a strict watch over all, and trusting implicitly to none, with a daily personal supervision of all this complicated state-machinery—such was the system which surmounted every peril, and not only maintained but increased the power and political reputation of Zalim Singh, amidst the storms of war, rapine, treason, and political convulsions of more than half a century’s duration.

CHAPTER 7

Fortunately for his subjects, and for his own reputation, his sense of gratitude and friendship for the family of Inglia—whose head, Bala Rao, was then a prisoner in Mewar—involved him, in the attempt to obtain his release, in personal conflict with the Rana, and he was compelled to abandon for ever that long-cherished object of his ambition. It was then he perceived he had sacrificed the welfare of all classes to a phantom, and his vigorous understanding suggested a remedy, which was instantly adopted.

The situation selected was most judicious, being nearly equidistant from the two principal entrances to Haraoti from the south, and touching the most insubordinate part of the Bhil population; while he was close to the strong castles of Shirgarh and Gagraun, which he strengthened with the utmost care, making the latter the depot of his treasures and his arsenal. He formed an army; adopted the European arms and discipline; appointed officers with the title of captain to his battalions, which had a regular nomenclature, and his ‘royals’ (Raj Paltan) have done as gallant service as any that ever bore the name. These were ready at a moment’s warning to move to any point, against any foe. Moreover, by this change, he was extricated from many perplexities and delays which a residence in a capital necessarily engenders [531].

Having made himself master of the complicated details of the batai, and sifted every act of chicanery by the most inquisitorial process, he convoked all the Patels of the country, and took their depositions as to the extent of each pateli, their modes of collection, their credit, character, and individual means; and being thus enabled to form a rough computation of the size and revenues of each, he recommenced his tour, made a chakbandi, or measurement of the lands of each township, and classified them, according to soil and fertility, as piwal, or irrigated; gorma, or good soil, but dependent on the heavens; and mormi, including pasturage and mountain-tracts. He then, having formed an average from the accounts of many years, instituted a fixed money-rent, and declared that the batai system, or that of payment in kind, was at an end. But even in this he showed severity; for he reduced the jarib,^[3] or standard measure, by a third, and added a fourth to his averages. Doubtless he argued that the profit which the Patels looked forward to would admit of this increase, and determined that his vigilance should be more than a match for their ingenuity.

Having thus adjusted the rents of the fisc, the dues of the Patel were fixed at one and a half annas per bigha, on all the lands constituting a pateli; and as his personal lands were on a favoured footing and paid a much smaller rate than the ryot’s, he was led to understand that any exaction beyond what was authorized would subject him to confiscation. Thus the dues on collection would realize to the Patel from five to fifteen thousand rupees annually. The anxiety of these men to be reinstated in their trusts [532] was evinced by the immense offers they made, of ten, twenty, and even fifty thousand rupees. At one stroke he put ten lakhs, or £100,000 sterling, into his exhausted treasury, by the amount of nazaranas, or fines of relief on their reinduction into office. The ryot hoped for better days; for notwithstanding the assessment was heavy, he saw the limit of exaction, and that the door was closed to all subordinate oppression. Besides the spur of hope, he had that of fear, to quicken his exertions; for with the promulgation of the edict substituting money-rent for batai, the ryot was given to understand that 'no account of the seasons’ would alter or lessen the established dues of the State, and that uncultivated lands would be made over by the Patel to those who would cultivate them; or if none would take them, they would be incorporated with the khas or personal farms of the regent. In all cases the Patels were declared responsible for deficiencies of revenue.

Hitherto this body of men had an incentive, if not a licence, to plunder, being subject to an annual or triennial tax termed patel-barar. This was annulled; and it was added, that if they fulfilled their contract with the State without oppressing the subject, they should be protected and honoured. Thus these Patels, the elected representatives of the village and the shields of the ryot, became the direct officers of the crown. It was the regent’s interest to conciliate a body of men on whose exertions the prosperity of the State mainly depended; and they gladly and unanimously entered into his views. Golden bracelets and turbans, the signs of inauguration, were given, with a “grant of office,” to each Patel, and they departed to their several trusts.

Such was the Patel system of Kotah. A system so rigid had its alloy of evil; the veil of secrecy, so essential to commercial pursuits, was rudely drawn aside; every transaction was exposed to the regent, and no man felt safe from the inquisitorial visits of the spies of this council. A lucky speculation was immediately reported, and the regent hastened to share in the success of the speculator. Alarm and disgust were the consequence; the spirit of trade was damped; none were assured of the just returns of their industry; but there was no security elsewhere, and at Kotah only the Protector dared to injure them.

The council of Venice was not more arbitrary than the Patel board of Kotah; even the ministers saw the sword suspended over their heads, while they were hated as much as feared by all but the individual who recognized their utility.

It would be imagined that with a council so vigilant the regent would feel perfectly secure. Not so: he had spies over them. In short, to use the phrase of one of his ministers—a man of acute perception and powerful understanding, when talking of the vigour of his mental vision—when his physical organs had failed, pani pina, aur mut tolna, which we will not translate.

The Bohra of Rajputana is the Métayer of the ancient system of France. He furnishes the cultivator with whatever he requires for his pursuits, whether cattle, implements, or seed; and supports him and his family throughout the season until the crop is ready for the sickle, when a settlement of accounts takes place. This is done in two ways: either by a cash payment, with stipulated interest according to the risk previously agreed upon; or, more commonly, by a specified share of the crop, in which the Bohra takes the risk of bad seasons with the husbandman. The utility of such a person under an oppressive government, where the ryot can store up nothing for the future, may readily be conceived; he is, in fact, indispensable. Mutual honesty is required; for extortion on the part of the Bohra would lose him his clients, and dishonesty on that of the peasant would deprive him of his only resource against the sequestration of his patrimony. Accordingly, this monied middleman enjoyed great consideration, being regarded as the patron of the husbandman. Every peasant had his particular Bohra, and not unfrequently from the adjacent village in preference to his own.

Such was the state of things when the old system of lattha batai was commuted for bighoti, a specific money-rent apportioned to the area of the land. The Patel, now tied down to the simple duties of collection, could touch nothing but his dues, unless he leagued with or overturned the Bohra; and in either case there was risk from the lynx-eyed scrutiny of the regent. They, accordingly, adopted the middle course of alarming his cupidity, which the following expedient effected. When the crop was ripe, the peasant would demand permission to cut it. “Pay your rent first,” was the reply. The Bohra was applied to; but his fears had been awakened by a caution not to lend money to one on whom the government had claims. There was no alternative but to mortgage to the harpy Patel a portion of the produce of his fields. This was the precise point at which he aimed; he took the crop at his own valuation, and gave his receipt that the dues of government were satisfied; demanding a certificate to the effect “that having no funds forthcoming [535] when the rent was required, and being unable to raise it, the mortgager voluntarily assigned, at a fair valuation, a share of the produce.” In this manner did the Patels hoard immense quantities of grain, and as Kotah became the granary of Rajputana, they accumulated great wealth, while the peasant, never able to reckon on the fruits of his industry, was depressed and impoverished. The regent could not long be kept in ignorance of these extortions; but the treasury overflowed, and he did not sufficiently heed the miseries occasioned by a system which added fresh lands by sequestration to the home farms, now the object of his especial solicitude.