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

Outbreak at Kotah.

—But as it was impossible to effect this without escalading the castle, in which operation the prince, in all human probability, might have perished, it was deemed advisable to blockade it and starve them into surrender. When reduced to extremity, the Maharao took the determination of trusting his cause to the country, and placing himself at the head of a band of five hundred horse, chiefly Haras, with the tutelary deity at his saddle-bow, with drums beating and colours flying, he broke through the blockade. Fortunately, no instructions had been given for resistance, and his cavalcade passed on to the southward unmolested. As soon as the movement was reported, the Agent hastened to the regent’s camp, which he found in confusion; and demanded of the veteran what steps he had taken, or meant to take, to prevent the infection spreading. His conduct, at such a crisis, was most embarrassing. Beset by scruples, real or affected, the Agent could only obtain ill-timed if not spurious declarations of loyalty; “that he would cling to his sovereign’s skirts, and chakari kar (serve him); that he would rather retire to Nathdwara, than blacken his face by any treason towards his master.” Rejoiced at the mere hint of a sentiment which afforded the least presage of the only [567] mode of cutting the Gordian knot of our policy, the Agent eagerly replied, “there was no earthly bar to his determination, which he had only to signify”; but abhorring duplicity and cant at such a moment, when action of the most decisive kind was required, and apprehensive of the consequences of five hundred unquiet spirits being thrown loose on a society so lately disorganized, he hastily bid the veteran adieu, and galloped to overtake the prince’s cavalcade. He found it bivouacked at the Rangbari,^[12] a country-seat six miles south of the capital. His followers and their horses, intermingled, were scattered in groups outside the garden-wall; and the prince, his chiefs, and advisers, were in the palace, deliberating on their future operations. There was no time for ceremony; and he reached the assembly before he could be announced. The rules of etiquette and courtesy were not lost even amidst impending strife; though the greeting was short, a warm expostulation with the prince and the chiefs was delivered with rapidity; and the latter were warned that their position placed them in direct enmity to the British Government, and that, without being enabled to benefit their sovereign, they involved themselves in destruction. The courtesy which these brave men had a right to was changed into bitter reproof, as the Agent turned to Gordhandas, whom he styled a traitor to his father, and from whom his prince could expect no good, guided as he was solely by interested motives, and warned him that punishment of no common kind awaited him. His hand was on his sword in an instant; but the action being met by a smile of contempt, and his insolent replies passing unheeded, the Agent, turning to the prince, implored him to reflect before the door would be closed to accommodation; pledging himself, at the same time, to everything that reason and his position could demand, except the surrender of the power of the regent, which our public faith compelled us to maintain; and that the prince’s dignity, comforts, and happiness, should be sedulously consulted. While he was wavering, the Agent called aloud, “The prince’s horse!” and taking his arm, Kishor Singh suffered himself to be led to it, observing as he mounted, “I rely implicitly on your friendship.” His brother, Prithi Singh, spoke; the chiefs maintained silence; and the impetuosity of Gordhan and one or two of the coterie was unheeded. The Agent rode side by side with the prince, surrounded by his bands, in perfect silence, and in this way they re-entered the castle, nor did the Agent quit him till he replaced him on his gaddi, when he reiterated his expressions of desire for his welfare, but urged the necessity of his adapting his conduct to the imperious circumstances of his position; and intimated that both his brother and Gordhandas must be removed from his person, the latter altogether from [568] Haraoti. This was in the middle of May; and in June, after the public deportation of Gordhandas as a state-criminal to Delhi, and ample provision being made for the prince and every member of his family, a public reconciliation took place between him and the regent.

Reconciliation of Mahārāo Kishor Singh with Zālim Singh.

—The meeting partook of the nature of a festival, and produced a spontaneous rejoicing, the populace, with the loudest acclamations, crowding every avenue to the palace by which the regent and his son were to pass. The venerable Zalim appeared like their patriarch; the princes as disobedient children suing for forgiveness. They advanced bending to embrace his knees, whilst he, vainly attempting to restrain this reverential salutation to his age and to habit, endeavoured by the same lowly action to show his respect to his sovereign. Expressions, in keeping with such forms of affection and respect, from the Maharao, of honour and fidelity from the ‘guardian of his father’ and himself, were exchanged with all the fervour of apparent sincerity. Anomalous condition of human affairs! strange perversity, which prevented this momentary illusion from becoming a permanent reality!

Re-installation of Kishor Singh.

—This much-desired reconciliation was followed on the 8th of Sawan, or 17th August A.D. 1820, by the solemnities of a public installation of the Maharao on the gaddi of his ancestors: a pageantry which smoothed all asperities for the time, and, in giving scope to the munificence of the regent, afforded to the mass, who judge only by the surface of things, a theme for approbation. We leave for another place ^[13] the details of this spectacle; merely observing that the representative of the British Government was the first (following the priest) to make the tika, or unction of sovereignty ^[14] on the forehead of the prince; and having tied on the jewels, consisting of aigrette, necklace, and bracelets, he girded on, amidst salutes of ordnance, the sword of investiture. The Maharao, with an appropriate speech, presented one hundred and one gold mohurs, as the nazar or fine of relief, professing his homage to the British Government. At the same time, a khilat, or dress of honour, was presented, in the name of the Governor-General of India, to the regent, for which he made a suitable acknowledgment, and a nazar of twenty-five gold mohurs.

Madho Singh then fulfilled the functions of hereditary Faujdar, making the tika, girding on the sword, and presenting the gift of accession, which was returned by [569] the Maharao presenting to Madho Singh the khilat of ultimate succession to the regency: the grand difficulty to overcome, and which originated all these differences. The Agent remained an entire month after the ceremony, to strengthen the good feeling thus begun; to adapt the Maharao’s mind to the position in which an imperious destiny had placed him; and also to impress on the successor to the regency the dangerous responsibility of the trust which a solemn treaty had guaranteed, if by his supineness, want of feeling, or misconduct, it were violated. On the 4th of September, previous to leaving Kotah, the Agent was present at another meeting of all the parties, when there was as much appearance of cordiality manifested as could be expected in so difficult a predicament. The old regent, the Maharao, and Madho Singh, joined hands in reciprocal forgiveness of the past, each uttering a solemn asseveration that he would cultivate harmony for the future.

It was on this occasion that the regent performed two deliberate acts, which appear suitable accompaniments to the close of his political life, both as respects his prince and his subjects. He had prepared a covenant of surety for his old and faithful servants after his death, demanding the Maharao’s, his son Madho Singh’s, and the Agent’s signatures thereto, stipulating that “if his successor did not choose to employ their services, they should be free agents, be called to no account for the past, but be permitted to reside wherever they pleased.” The Maharao and Madho Singh having signed the deed, the British Agent, at the desire of the regent, placed his signature as a guarantee for its execution. In this act, we not only have proof that to the last the regent maintained the supremacy of his master, but evidence of the fears he entertained respecting the conduct of his successor.

Reforms in Taxation.

—The other act was a brilliant victory over the most inveterate habits of his age and country,—the revocation of dand, or forced contributions, throughout the dominion of Kotah. This spontaneous abolition of a practice so deeply rooted in Rajasthan, is another proof of the keen penetration of the regent, and of his desire to conciliate the opinions of the protecting power, as to the duties of princes towards their subjects; duties regarding which, as he said, “theoretically we are not ignorant”; and on which he has often forcibly descanted before his son, whilst laying down rules of conduct when he should be no more. At such moments, he entered fully and with energy into his own conduct; condemning it; pointing out its inevitable results, and the benefits he had observed to attend an opposite course of action. “My word, son, was not worth a copper,” he would say; “but now nobody would refuse anything to old Zalim.” It [570] was, therefore, as much from a conviction of the benefit to himself and the State which would attend the renunciation of this tax, as with a view of courting golden opinion, that he commanded a stone to be raised in the chief town of every district of his country, on which was inscribed the edict of perpetual abolition of dand, with the denunciation of eternal vengeance on whoever should revoke it. The effigies of the sun, the moon, the cow and the hog, animals reverenced or execrated by all classes, were carved in relief, to attest the imprecation.

Such was the pacific termination of a contest for authority, which threatened to deluge Kotah with blood. Whether we had a right to hope that such high and natural pretensions could rest satisfied with the measures of conciliation and concession that were pursued, the sequel will disclose to those who judge only by results.

8. The following is a translation of the letter written by the regent, announcing the decease of his master, dated 1st Safar, A.H. 1235, or November 21, 1819:—

“Until Sunday, the eve of the 1st Safar, the health of the Maharao Ummed Singh was perfectly good. About an hour after sunset, he went to worship Sri Brajnathji [Lord of Braj or Mathura]. Having made six prostrations, and while performing the seventh, he fainted and remained totally insensible. In this state he was removed to his bed-chamber, when every medical aid was given, but unavailingly; at two in the morning he departed for heaven.

“Such affliction is not reserved even for a foe; but what refuge is there against the decree? You are our friend, and the honour and welfare of those whom the Maharao has left behind are now in your hands. The Maharao Kishor Singh, eldest son of the Maharao deceased, has been placed upon the throne. This is written for the information of friendship.”

CHAPTER 11

Banishment of Gordhandās.

—The sole measure of severity which arose out of these commotions was exercised on the natural son of the regent, who was banished in the face of open day from the scene of his turbulent intrigue. Gordhandas, or, as his father styled him, ‘Gordhanji,’ was the ‘child of love’ and of his old age, and to his mother the regent, it is said, felt the most ardent attachment. The perpetual banishment of this firebrand was essential to tranquillity; yet, notwithstanding his misdeeds, political and filial, it was feared that the sentiments of the Jewish monarch, rather than the sternness of the Roman father, would have influenced the Rajput regent, whose bearing, when [571] the sentence of condemnation was enforced, was to be regarded as the test of a suspicion that the Maharao had been goaded to his course through this channel by ulterior views which he dared not openly promulgate. But Zalim’s fiat was worthy of a Roman, and sufficed to annihilate suspicion—“Let the air of Haraoti never more be tainted by his presence.” Delhi and Allahabad were the cities fixed upon, from which he was to select his future residence, and unfortunately the first was chosen. Here he resided with his family upon a pension sufficiently liberal, and had a range abundantly excursive for exercise, attended by some horsemen furnished by the British local authority.

About the close of 1821, permission was imprudently granted to the exile to visit Malwa, to fulfil a marriage-contract with an illegitimate daughter of the chieftain of Jhabua.^[1] Scarcely had he set his foot in that town, when symptoms of impatience, in lieu of perfect tranquillity, began to be visible at Kotah, and a correspondence both there and at Bundi was hardly detected, before a spirit of revolt was reported to have infected the tried veterans of the regent. Saif Ali, the commander of the ‘Royals’ (Raj Paltan), an officer of thirty years’ standing, distinguished for his zeal, fidelity, and gallantry, was named as having been gained over to the cause of his nominal sovereign. This was looked upon as a slander; but too wise entirely to disregard it, the regent interposed a force between the disaffected battalion and the castle, which brought the matter to issue. The Maharao immediately proceeded by water, and conveyed Saif Ali and a part of his battalion to the palace; which was no sooner reported, than the blind regent put himself into his litter, and headed a force with which he attacked the remainder, while two twenty-four pounders, mounted on a cavalier, which commanded not only every portion of the city, but the country on both sides the Chambal, played upon the castle. In the midst of this firing (probably unexpected), the Maharao, his brother Prithi Singh, and their adherents, took to boat, crossed the river, and retired to Bundi, while the remainder of the mutinous ‘Royals’ laid down their arms. By this energetic conduct, the new attempt upon his power was dissolved as soon as formed, and the gaddi of the Haras was abandoned. Bishan Singh escaped from his brothers in the midst of the fray, and joined the regent, whose views regarding him, in this crisis, however indirectly manifested, could not be mistaken; but our system of making and unmaking kings in these distant regions, though it may have enlarged our power, had not added to our reputation; and the Agent had the most rooted repugnance to sanction the system in the new range of our alliances, however it might have tended to allay the discord [572] which prevailed, or to free the paramount power from the embarrassment in which its diplomatic relations had placed it, and from whence there was no escape without incurring the too just reproach of violating the conditions we had imposed. Common decency forbade our urging the only plea we could in forming the treaty, namely, our considering the prince as a mere phantom; and if we had been bold enough to do so, the reply would have been the same: “Why did you treat with a phantom?” while he would have persisted in the literal interpretation of the bond.

British Intervention.

—There was but one way to deal with the perplexity—to fulfil the spirit of the treaty, by which public peace would be ensured. Instructions were sent to the prince of Bundi, that there was no restraint upon his performing the rites of hospitality and kindred to the fugitive princes, but that he would be personally responsible if he permitted them to congregate troops for the purpose of hostility against the regent: while, at the same time, the commander of the British troops at Nimach ^[2] was desired to interpose a light corps on the line of Jhabua and Bundi, and to capture Gordhandas, dead or alive, if he attempted to join the Maharao. He, however, contrived, through the intricacies of the plateau, to elude the well-arranged plan; but finding that the prince of Bundi had the same determination, he made direct for Marwar, where being also denied an asylum, he had no alternative but to return to Delhi, and to a more strict surveillance. This, however, may have been concerted; for soon after, the Maharao broke ground from Bundi, giving out a pilgrimage to Brindaban;^[3] and it was hoped that the tranquillity and repose he would find amidst the fanes of his tutelary deity, Brajnathji, might tempt a mind prone to religious seclusion, to pass his days there. While he remained at Bundi, public opinion was not at all manifested; the distance was trifling to Kotah, and being with the head of his race, the act was deemed only one of those hasty ebullitions so common in those countries, and which would be followed by reconciliation. But as soon as the prince moved northward, expectation being excited that his cause would meet attention elsewhere, he had letters of sympathy and condolence from every chief of the country, and the customary attentions to sovereignty were paid by those through whose States he passed, with the sole exception of that most contiguous to our provinces, Bharatpur. The prince of this celebrated place sent a deputation to the frontier, excusing himself on account of his age and blindness; but the Hara prince, knowing what was due from a Jat zemindar, however favoured by the accessions of fortune, repelled with disdain both his gifts and his mission. For this haughty, though not unbecoming maintenance of precedent, the [573] Maharao was warned off the bounds of Bharatpur. Having remained some time among the ‘groves of Vraja,’ there was reason to believe that the canticles of Jayadeva had rendered an earthly crown a mere bauble in the eyes of the abdicated Hara, and that the mystical effusions of Kanhaiya and Radha had eradicated all remembrance of the rhapsodies of Chand, and the glories of the Chauhan: he was accordingly left at discretion to wander where he listed. As it was predicted, he soon felt the difference between his past and present mode of life, surrounded by a needy crew in a strange land; and towards the middle of April he had reached Muttra, on his return from Brindaban to Kotah. But his evil genius, in the shape of Gordhandas, had destined this should not be; and notwithstanding the rigorous surveillance, or, in fact, imprisonment, which had been enjoined, this person found an opportunity to carry on cabals with natives of high rank and office.

The Mahārāo marches on Kotah.

—Intrigues multiplied, and false hopes were inspired through these impure channels, which were converted by his corrupt emissaries into fountain-heads of political control, superseding the only authorized medium of communication between the misguided prince and the paramount power. Accordingly, having collected additional troops about him, he commenced his march to Haraoti, giving out to the chiefs through whose dominions he passed, that he was returning by the consent of the paramount power for the resumption of all his sovereign rights, so long in abeyance. Men with badges in his train, belonging to the persons alluded to, and an agent from the native treasurer of Delhi, who supplied the prince with funds, gave a colour of truth which deceived the country, and produced ardent expressions of desire for his success. As he proceeded, this force increased, and he reached the Chambal, towards the close of the monsoon 1821, with about three thousand men. Having crossed the river, he issued his summons in a language neither to be misunderstood nor disobeyed by a Rajput; he conjured them by their allegiance to join his cause, “that of seeking justice according to the treaty”: and the call was obeyed by every Hara of the country. His conduct afforded the most powerful illustration of the Rajput’s theory of fidelity, for even those closely connected by ties of blood and by every species of benefit, withdrew from the regent, to whom they owed everything, in order to join their hereditary and lawful prince, whom some had never seen, and of whom they knew nothing. Negotiation, and expostulation the most solemn and earnest on the personal dangers he was incurring, were carried on, and even public tranquillity was hazarded, rather than have recourse to the last argument, which was the less necessary, as universal peace [574] reigned around us, and the means of quelling revolt were at hand. An entire month was thus consumed: but the ultimatum ^[4] left no means of putting a stop to increasing disorders but that appeal which from various considerations had been so long delayed.

The tried troops of the regent could not be depended on; he confessed it; and in this confession, what an evidence is afforded of the nature of his rule, and of the homage to immutable justice in all parts of the world! Every corps, foreign or indigenous, was ready to range on the side of legitimate authority against the hand which had fed and cherished them. So completely did this feeling pervade every part of the political fabric, that the regent himself said, in his forcible manner, on his escape from the danger, “even the clothes on his back smelt of treason to him.” It was hoped that “the wisdom which called aloud (even) in the streets” would not be disregarded by the veteran; that disgust at such marks of perfidy would make him spurn from him the odium of usurpation, and thus free the paramount power from a situation the most painful and embarrassing. Abundant opportunities were afforded, and hints were given that he alone could cut the knot, which otherwise must be severed [575] by the sword. But all was fruitless: “he stood upon his bond,” and the execution of the treaty. The Maharao, his nominal sovereign, took the same ground, and even sent a copy of the treaty to the Agent, tauntingly asking whether it was to be recognized or not. All this embarrassment would have been avoided, had the supplemental articles been embodied in the original treaty; then the literal interpretation and its spirit would not have been at variance, nor have afforded a pretext to reproach the paramount power with a breach of faith and justice: charges which cannot in fact be supported, inasmuch as the same contracting parties, who executed the original document, amended it by this supplemental deed. The dispute then resolves itself into a question of expediency, already touched on, namely, whether we might not have provided better for the future, and sought out other modes of reward for services we had acknowledged, than the maintenance of two pageants of sovereignty, both acknowledged, the one de facto, the other de jure. It was fortunate, however, that the magnitude of the titular prince’s pretensions placed him completely in opposition to the other contracting parties, inasmuch as he would not abide by either the spirit or the letter of the treaty or its supplement, in the most modified sense. His demand for “a personal guard of three thousand of his kinsmen, that he might allot estates at pleasure to his chiefs, appoint the governors of fortresses, and be head of the army,” was a virtual repudiation of every principle of the alliance; while the succession to the administrative powers of the State, secured to the issue of the regent, was made to depend on his pleasure: rather a frail tenure whether in Europe or Rajputana.

Everything that could be done to withdraw the infatuated prince from the knot of evil advisers and fiery spirits who daily flocked to his standard, carrying with them their own and their ancestors’ wrongs, being ineffectual and hopeless, the troops which had been called upon to maintain the treaty moved forward in combination with the army of the regent. As the force reached the Kali Sind, which alone divided the rivals for power, torrents of rain, which during several days swelled it to an impassable flood, afforded more time to try all that friendship or prudence could urge to save the Maharao from the impending ruin. But all was vain; he saw the storm, and invited its approach with mingled resolution and despair, proclaiming the most submissive obedience to the paramount power, and avowing a conviction of the good intentions and friendship of its representative; but to every remonstrance he replied, “what was life without honour; what was a sovereign without authority? Death, or the full sovereignty of his ancestors!” [576].

The conduct of the regent was not less perplexing than that of the prince; for while he affected still to talk of fealty, “to preserve his white beard from stain,” he placed before him the ample shield of the treaty, although he expected that his power should be maintained without any active measures on his own part for its defence: a degree of irresponsibility not for a moment to be tolerated. It was in vain he hinted at the spirit, more than doubtful, of his army; that in the moment of conflict they might turn their guns against us; even this he was told we would hazard: and, it was added, if he desired, at whatever cost, to preserve the power guaranteed to his family, he must act offensively as well as defensively; for it would shortly be too late to talk of reconciling fealty with the preservation of his power. The wily regent desired to have his work done for him; to have all the benefit which the alliance compelled us to afford, with none of the obloquy it entailed. The Agent had some hope, even at the twelfth hour, that rather than incur the opprobrium of the world, and the penalty denounced against the violation of swamidharma, in committing to the chance of battle the lives of all those to whom he was protector, he would draw back and compromise his power; but the betrayal of his half-formed designs in hypocritical cant adapted only for the multitude, soon dispelled the illusion; and though there was a strong internal struggle, the love of dominion overcame every scruple.

The combination of the troops was discussed in his presence and that of his officers; and in order that unity of action might be ensured, a British officer was at his request attached to his force.^[5]

Battle of Māngrol.

—At daybreak on the 1st of October, the troops moved down to the attack.^[6] The regent’s army consisted of eight battalions of infantry, with thirty-two pieces of cannon and fourteen strong paegahs, or squadrons of horse. Of these, five battalions, with fourteen pieces and ten squadrons, composed the advance; while the rest formed a reserve with the regent in person, five hundred yards in the rear. The British troops, consisting of two weak battalions and six squadrons of cavalry, with a light battery of horse-artillery, formed on the right of the regent’s force as it approximated to the Maharao’s position. The ground over which the troops moved was an extensive plain, gradually shelving to a small shallow stream, whence it again rose rather abruptly. The Maharao’s camp was placed upon a rising ground, a short distance [577] beyond the stream: he left his tents standing, and had disposed his force on the margin of the rivulet. The ‘Royals,’ who had deserted their old master, with their leader, Saif Ali, were posted on the left; the Maharao with the élite, a band of full five hundred Hara cavaliers, upon the right, and the interval was filled by a tumultuous rabble. The combined force was permitted to choose its position, within two hundred yards of the foe, without the slightest demonstration of resistance or retreat. The Agent took advantage of the pause to request the British commander to halt the whole line, in order that he might make a last attempt to withdraw the infatuated prince and his devoted followers from the perils that confronted them. He advanced midway between the lines, and offered the same conditions and an amnesty to all; to conduct and replace the prince on the gaddi of his ancestors with honour. Yet, notwithstanding ruin stared him in the face, he receded from none of his demands; he insisted on the sine qua non, and would only re-enter Kotah surrounded by three thousand of his Hara kinsmen. During the quarter of an hour allowed him to deliberate ere the sword should be drawn, movements in position on both sides took place; the Maharao’s chosen band, condensing all their force on the right, opposed the regent’s advance, while the British troops formed so in echelon as to enfilade their dense masses.

The time having expired, and not an iota of the pretensions being abated, the signal, as agreed upon, was given, and the action commenced by a discharge of cannon and firearms from the regent’s whole line, immediately followed by the horse-artillery on the right. With all the gallantry that has ever distinguished the Haras, they acted as at Fatehabad and Dholpur, and charged the regent’s line, when several were killed at the very muzzle of the guns, and but for the advance of three squadrons of British cavalry, would have turned his left flank, and probably penetrated to the reserve, where the regent was in person.^[7] Defeated in this design, they had no resource but a precipitate retreat from the unequal conflict, and the Maharao, surrounded by a gol of about four hundred horse, all Haras, his kinsmen, retired across the stream, and halted on the rising ground about half a mile distant, while his auxiliary foot broke and dispersed in all directions. The British troops rapidly crossed the stream, and while the infantry made a movement to cut off [578] retreat from the south, two squadrons were commanded to charge the Maharao. Determined not to act offensively, even in this emergency he adhered to his resolution, and his band awaited in a dense mass and immovable attitude the troops advancing with rapidity against them, disdaining to fly and yet too proud to yield. A British officer headed each troop; they and those they led had been accustomed to see the foe fly from the shock; but they were Pindaris, not Rajputs. The band stood like a wall of adamant; our squadrons rebounded from the shock, leaving two brave youths ^[8] dead on the spot, and their gallant commander ^[9] was saved by a miracle, being stunned by a blow which drove in his casque, his reins cut, and the arm raised to give the coup de grâce, when a pistol-shot from his orderly levelled his assailant. The whole was the work of an instant. True to the determination he expressed, the Maharao, satisfied with repelling the charge, slowly moved off; nor was it till the horse-artillery again closed, and poured round and grape into the dense body, that they quickened their retreat; while, as three fresh squadrons had formed for the charge, they reached the makkai fields, amongst the dense crops of which they were lost.

Death of Prithi Singh.

—Prithi Singh, younger brother of the prince, impelled by that heroic spirit which is the birthright of a Hara, and aware that Haraoti could no longer be a home for him while living, determined at least to find a grave in her soil. He returned, with about five-and-twenty followers, to certain destruction, and was found in a field of Indian corn as the line advanced, alive, but grievously wounded. He was placed in a litter, and, escorted by some of Skinner’s horse, was conveyed to the camp. Here he was sedulously attended; but medical skill was of no avail, and he died the next day. His demeanour was dignified and manly; he laid the blame upon destiny, expressed no wish for life, and said, looking to the tree near the tent, that “his ghost would be satisfied in contemplating therefrom the fields of his forefathers.” His sword and ring had been taken from him by a trooper, but his dagger, pearl necklace, and other valuables, he gave in charge to the Agent, to whom he bequeathed the care of his son, the sole heir to the empty honours of the sovereignty of Kotah.

It was not from any auxiliary soldier that the prince received his death-wound; it was inflicted by a lance, propelled with unerring force from behind, penetrating the lungs, the point appearing through the chest. He said it was a revengeful blow from some determined hand, as he felt the steeled point twisted in the wound to ensure its [579] being mortal. Although the squadrons of the regent joined in the pursuit, yet not a man of them dared to come to close quarters with their enemy; it was therefore supposed that some treacherous arm had mingled with his men, and inflicted the blow which relieved the regent from the chief enemy to his son and successor.

The Maharao and his band were indebted for safety to the forest of corn, so thick, lofty, and luxuriant, that even his elephant was lost sight of. This shelter extended to the rivulet, only five miles in advance, which forms the boundary of Haraoti; but it was deemed sufficient to drive him out of the Kotah territory, where alone his presence could be dangerous. The infantry and foreign levies, who had no moral courage to sustain them, fled for their lives, and many were cut to pieces by detached troops of our cavalry.

The calm, undaunted valour of the Maharao and his kin could not fail to extort applause from those gallant minds which can admire the bravery of a foe, though few of those who had that day to confront them were aware of the moral courage which sustained their opponents, and which converted their vis inertiae into an almost impassable barrier.

Devotion of Two Hāras.

—But although the gallant conduct of the prince and his kin was in keeping with the valour so often recorded in these annals, and now, alas! almost the sole inheritance of the Haras, there was one specimen of devotion which we dare not pass over, comparable with whatever is recorded of the fabled traits of heroism of Greece or Rome. The physiography of the country has been already described; the plains, along which the combined force advanced, gradually shelved to the brink of a rivulet whose opposite bank rose perpendicularly, forming as it were the buttress to a tableland of gentle acclivity. The regent’s battalions were advancing in columns along this precipitous bank, when their attention was arrested by several shots fired from an isolated hillock rising out of the plain across the stream. Without any order, but as by a simultaneous impulse, the whole line halted, to gaze at two audacious individuals, who appeared determined to make their mound a fortress. A minute or two passed in mute surprise, when the word was given to move on; but scarcely was it uttered, ere several wounded from the head of the column were passing to the rear, and shots began to be exchanged very briskly, at least twenty in return for one. But the long matchlocks of the two heroes told every time in our lengthened line, while they seemed to have ‘a charmed life,’ and the shot fell like hail around them innocuous, one continuing to load behind the mound, while the [580] other fired with deadly aim. At length, two twelve-pounders were unlimbered; and as the shot whistled round their ears, both rose on the very pinnacle of the mound, and made a profound salaam for this compliment to their valour; which done, they continued to load and fire, whilst entire platoons blazed upon them. Although more men had suffered, an irresistible impulse was felt to save these gallant men; orders were given to cease firing, and the force was directed to move on, unless any two individuals chose to attack them manfully hand to hand. The words were scarcely uttered when two young Rohillas drew their swords, sprung down the bank, and soon cleared the space between them and the foemen. All was deep anxiety as they mounted to the assault; but whether their physical frame was less vigorous, or their energies were exhausted by wounds or by their peculiar situation, these brave defenders fell on the mount, whence they disputed the march of ten battalions of infantry and twenty pieces of cannon.^[10] They were Haras! But Zalim was the cloud which interposed between them and their fortunes; and to remove it, they courted the destruction which at length overtook them.

The entire devotion which the vassalage of Haraoti manifested for the cause of the Maharao, exemplified, as before observed, the nature and extent of swamidharma or fealty, which has been described as the essential quality of the Rajput character; while, at the same time, it illustrates the severity of the regent’s yoke. Even the chief who negotiated the treaty could not resist the defection (one of his sons was badly wounded), although he enjoyed estates under the regent which his hereditary rank did not sanction, besides being connected with him by marriage.

The Maharao gained the Parbati, which, it is said, he swam over. He had scarcely reached the shore when his horse dropped dead from a grape-shot wound. With about three hundred horse he retired upon Baroda. We had no vengeance to execute; we could not, therefore, consider the brave men, who abandoned their homes and their families from a principle of honour, in the light of the old enemies of our power, to be pursued and exterminated. They had, it is true, confronted us in the field; yet only defensively, in a cause at least morally just and seemingly sanctioned by authorities which they could not distrust.

Reflections on the Outbreak.

—The pretensions so long opposed to the treaty were thus signally and efficiently subdued. The chief instigators of the revolt were for ever removed, one by death, the other by exile; and the punishment which overtook the deserters from the regular [581] forces of the regent would check its repetition. Little prepared for the reverse of that day, the chiefs had made no provision against it, and at our word every door in Rajwara would have been closed against them. But it was not deemed a case for confiscation, or one which should involve in proscription a whole community, impelled to the commission of crime by a variety of circumstances which they could neither resist nor control, and to which the most crafty views had contributed.^[11] The Maharao’s camp being left standing, all his correspondence and records fell into our hands, and developed such complicated intrigues, such consummate knavery, that he, and the brave men who suffered from espousing his pretensions, were regarded as entitled to every commiseration.^[12] As soon, therefore, as the futility of their pretensions was disclosed, by the veil being thus rudely torn from their eyes, they manifested a determination to submit. The regent was instructed to grant a complete amnesty, and to announce to the chiefs that they might repair to their homes without a question being put to them. In a few weeks, all was tranquillity and peace; the chiefs and vassals returned to their families, who blessed the power which tempered punishment with clemency.^[13]

The Maharao continued his course to Nathdwara in Mewar, proving that the sentiment of religious abstraction alone can take the place of ambition. The individuals who, for their own base purposes, had by misrepresentation and guile guided him to ruin, now deserted him; the film fell from his eyes, and he saw, though too late, the only position in which he could exist. In a very short time every pretension inimical to the spirit and letter of the treaty, original and supplemental, was relinquished; when, with the regent’s concurrence, a note was transmitted to him, containing the basis on which his return to Kotah was practicable. A transcript with his acceptance being received, a formal deed was drawn up, executed by the Agent and attested by the regent, not only defining the precise position of both parties, but establishing a barrier between the titular and executive authorities, which must for ever prevent all collision of interests; nothing was left to chance or cavil. The grand object was to provide for the safety, comfort, and dignity of the prince, and this was done on a scale of profuse liberality; far beyond what his father, or indeed any prince of Kotah had enjoyed, and incommensurate with the revenue of the State, of which it is about the twentieth portion. The amount equals the household expenditure of the Rana of Udaipur, the avowed head of the whole Rajput race, but which can be better afforded from the flourishing revenues of Kotah than the slowly improving finances of Mewar.