Restoration of the Mahārāo.

—These preliminaries being satisfactorily adjusted, it became important to inspire this misguided prince with a confidence that his welfare would be as anxiously watched as the stipulations of the treaty whose infringement had cost him so much misery. He had too much reason to plead personal alarm as one of the causes of his past conduct, and which tended greatly to neutralize all the endeavours to serve him. Even on the very day that he was to leave Nathdwara, on his return, when after great efforts his mind had been emancipated from distrust, a final and diabolical attempt was made to thwart the measures for his restoration. A mutilated wretch was made to personate his brother Bishan Singh, and to give out that he had been maimed by command [583] of the regent’s son, and the impostor had the audacity to come within a couple of miles of the Maharao; a slight resemblance to Bishan Singh aided the deceit, which, though promptly exposed, had made the impression for which it was contrived, and it required some skill to remove it. The Rana of Udaipur no sooner heard of this last effort to defeat all the good intentions in which he co-operated towards the Maharao, to whose sister he was married, than he had the impostor seized and brought to the city, where his story had caused a powerful sensation. His indiscreet indignation for ever destroyed the clue by which the plot might have been unravelled; for he was led immediately to execution, and all that transpired was, that he was a native of the Jaipur State, and had been mutilated for some crime. Could the question have been solved, it might have afforded the means of a different termination of those unhappy quarrels, to which they formed a characteristic sequel: intrigue and mistrust combined to inveigle Kishor Singh into attempts which placed him far beyond the reach of reason, and the most zealous exertions to extricate him.

This last scene being over, the Maharao left his retreat at the fane of Kanhaiya, and marched across the plateau to his paternal domains. On the last day of the year the regent, accompanied by the Agent, advanced to reconduct the prince to the capital. The universal demonstration of satisfaction at his return was the most convincing testimony that any other course would have been erroneous. On that day he once more took possession of the gaddi which he had twice abandoned, with a resignation free from all asperity, or even embarrassment. Feelings arising out of a mind accustomed to religious meditation, aided while they softened the bitter monitor, adversity, and together they afforded the best security that any deviation from the new order of things would never proceed from him.

Arrangements with the Mahārāo.

—Besides the schedule of the personal expenditure, over which he was supreme, much of the State expense was to be managed under the eye of the sovereign; such as the charities, and gifts on festivals and military ceremonies. The royal insignia used on all great occasions were to remain as heretofore at his residence in the castle, as was the band at the old guardroom over the chief portal of entrance. He was to preside at all the military or other annual festivals, attended by the whole retinue of the State; and the gifts on such occasions were to be distributed in his name. All the palaces, in and about the city, were at his sole disposal, and funds were set apart for their repairs; the gardens, ramnas, or game-preserves, and his personal guards, were also to be entertained and paid by himself. To maintain this arrangement inviolate, an [584] officer of the paramount power was henceforth to reside at Kotah. A handsome stipend was settled on the minor son of the deceased Prithi Singh; while, in order to prevent any umbrage to the Maharao, his brother Bishan Singh, whose trimming policy had been offensive to the Maharao, was removed to the family estate at Antha, twenty miles east of the capital, on which occasion an increase was spontaneously made to his jagir.

The Agent remained an entire month after this, to strengthen the good understanding now introduced. He even effected a reconciliation between the prince and Madho Singh, when the former, with great tact and candour, took upon himself the blame of all these disturbances; each gave his hand in token of future amity, and the prince spontaneously embraced the man (the regent’s son) to whom he attributed all his misery. But the Maharao’s comforts and dignity are now independent of control, and watched over by a guardian who will demand a rigid exaction of every stipulation in his favour. The patriarchal Zalim was, or affected to be, overjoyed at this result, which had threatened to involve them all in the abyss of misery. Bitter was his self-condemnation at the moral blindness of his conduct, which had not foreseen and guarded against the storm; and severe, as well as merited, was the castigation he inflicted on his successor. “It is for your sins, son, that I am punished,” was the conclusion of every such exhortation.

It will be deemed a singular fatality, that this last conspicuous act in the political life of the regent should have been on the spot which exactly sixty years before witnessed the opening scene of his career; for the field of Bhatwara[14] adjoined that of Mangrol. What visions must have chased each other on this last memorable day, when he recalled the remembrance of the former! when the same sword, which redeemed the independence of Kotah from tributary degradation to Amber, was now drawn against the grandson of that sovereign who rewarded his services with the first office of the State! Had some prophetic Bardai withdrawn the mantle of Bhavani, and disclosed through the vista of threescore years the regent in the foreground, in all the panoply of ingenuous youth “spreading his carpet” at Bhatwara, to review the charge of the Kachhwaha chivalry, and in the distant perspective that same being palsied, blind, and decrepit, leading a mingled host, in character and costume altogether strange, against the grandchildren of his prince, and the [585] descendants of those Haras who nobly seconded him to gain this reputation, what effect would such a prospect have produced on one whom the mere hooting of an owl on the house-top had “scared from his propriety”?

Soon after the satisfactory conclusion of these painful scenes, the regent returned to the Chhaoni, his fixed camp, and projected a tour of the State, to allay the disorders which had crept in, and to regulate afresh the action of the State-machine, the construction of which had occupied a long life, but which could not fail to be deranged by the complicated views which had arisen amongst those whose business was to work it. Often, amidst these conflicts, did he exclaim, with his great prototype both in prosperity and sorrow, “My kinsfolk have failed, and my familiar friends have forgotten me.” But Zalim had not the same resources in his griefs that Job had; nor could he with him exclaim, “If my land cry against me, if I have eaten the fruits thereof without money, or caused the owners thereof to lose their lives, let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle instead of barley.”[15] His yet vigorous mind, however, soon restored everything to its wonted prosperity; and in a few weeks not a trace was left of the commotions which for a while had totally unhinged society, and threatened to deluge the land with proscription and blood. The prince was reseated on the throne with far greater comforts about him and more certainty of stability than previous to the treaty; the nobles took possession of their estates with not a blade of grass removed, and the ghar-kheti, the home-farms of the Regent, lost none of their productiveness; commerce was unscathed, and public opinion, which had dared loudly to question the moral justice of these proceedings, was conciliated by their conclusion. The regent survived these events five years; his attenuated frame was worn out by a spirit, vigorous to the last pulsation of life, and too strong for the feeble cage which imprisoned it.[16]

Character of Zālim Singh.

—If history attempt to sum up, or institute a scrutiny into, the character of this extraordinary man, by what standard must we judge him? The actions of his life, which have furnished matter for the sketch we have attempted, may satisfy curiosity; but the materials for a finished portrait he never supplied: the latent springs of those actions remained invisible save to the eye of Omniscience. No human being ever shared the confidence of the Machiavelli of Rajasthan, who, from the first dawn of his political existence to its close, when “fourscore years and upwards,” could always say, “My secret is my own.” This single trait, throughout a troubled career of more [586] than ordinary length, would alone stamp his character with originality. No effervescence of felicity, of success, of sympathy, which occasionally bursts from the most rugged nature, no sudden transition of passion—joy, grief, hope, even revenge—could tempt him to betray his purpose. That it was often fathomed, that his “vaulting ambition has o’erleapt itself,” and made him lose his object, is no more than may be said of all who have indulged in “that sin by which angels fell”; yet he never failed through a blind confidence in the instruments of his designs. Though originally sanguine in expectation and fiery in temperament, he subdued these natural defects, and could await with composure the due ripening of his plans; even in the hey-day of youth he had attained this mastery over himself. To this early discipline of his mind he owed the many escapes from plots against his life, and the difficulties which were perpetually besetting it increased his natural resources. There was no artifice, not absolutely degrading, which he would not condescend to employ: his natural simplicity made humility, when necessary, a plausible disguise; while his scrupulous attention to all religious observances caused his mere affirmation to be respected. The sobriety of his demeanour gave weight to his opinions and influenced the judgment; while his invariable urbanity gained the goodwill of his inferiors, and his superiors were won by the delicacy of his flattery, in the application of which he was an adept. To crown the whole, there was a mysterious brevity, an oracular sententiousness, in his conversation, which always left something to the imagination of his auditor, who gave him credit for what he did not, as well as what he did utter. None could better appreciate, or studied more to obtain, the meed of good opinion; and throughout his lengthened life, until the occurrences just described, he threw over his acts of despotism and vengeance a veil of such consummate art, as to make them lose more than half their deformity. With him it must have been an axiom, that mankind judge superficially; and in accordance therewith, his first study was to preserve appearances, and never to offend prejudice if avoidable. When he sequestrated the States of the Hara feudality, he covered the fields, by them neglected, with crops of corn, and thereby drew a contrast favourable to himself between the effects of sloth and activity. When he usurped the functions of royalty, he threw a bright halo around the orb of its glory, overloading the gaddi with the trappings of grandeur, aware that—
the world is e’er deceived by ornament;

nor did the princes of Kotah ever appear with such magnificence as when he possessed all the attributes of royalty but the name. Every act evinced his deep skill in the [587] knowledge of the human mind and of the elements by which he was surrounded; he could circumvent the crafty Mahratta, calm or quell the arrogant Rajput, and extort the applause even of the Briton, who is little prone to allow merit in an Asiatic. He was a depository of the prejudices and the pride of his countrymen, both in religious and social life; yet, enigmatical as it must appear, he frequently violated them, though the infraction was so gradual as to be imperceptible except to the few who watched the slow progress of his plans. To such he appeared a compound of the most contradictory elements: lavish and parsimonious, oppressing and protecting; with one hand bestowing diamond aigrettes, with the other taking the tithe of the anchorite’s wallet; one day sequestrating estates and driving into exile the ancient chiefs of the land; the next receiving with open arms some expatriated noble, and supporting him in dignity and affluence, till the receding tide of human affairs rendered such support no longer requisite.

Zālim Singh and Witches.

—We have already mentioned his antipathy to the professors of “the tuneful art”; and he was as inveterate as Diocletian to the alchemist, regarding the trade of both as alike useless to society: neither were, therefore, tolerated in Kotah. But the enemies of the regent assert that it was from no dislike of their merit, but from his having been the dupe of the one, and the object of the other’s satire (vish). His persecution of witches (dakini) was in strict conformity with the injunction in the Pentateuch: “Thou shall not suffer a witch to live” (Exod. chap. xxii. ver. 18). But his ordeal was worse than even death itself: handling balls of hot iron was deemed too slight for such sinners; for it was well known they had substances which enabled them to do this with impunity. Throwing them into a pond of water was another trial; if they sunk, they were innocent, if they unhappily rose to the surface, the league with the powers of darkness was apparent. A gram-bag of cayenne pepper tied over the head, if it failed to suffocate, afforded another proof of guilt; though the most humane method, of rubbing the eyes with a well-dried capsicum, was perhaps the most common, and certainly if they could furnish this demonstration of their innocence, by withholding tears, they might justly be deemed witches. These Dakinis, like the vampires of the German Bardais, are supposed to operate upon the viscera of their victims, which they destroy by slow degrees with charms and incantations, and hence they are called in Sind (where, as Abu-l Fazl says, they abound) Jigarkhor, or ‘liver-devourers.’[17] One look of a Dakini suffices to destroy; but there are few who [588] court the title, at least in Kotah, though old age and eccentricity are sufficient, in conjunction with superstition or bad luck, to fix the stigma upon individuals.

Amusements of Zālim Singh.

—Aware of the danger of relaxing, “to have done,” even when eighty-five winters had passed over his head, was never in his thoughts. He knew that a Rajput’s throne should be the back of his steed; and when blindness overtook him, and he could no longer lead the chase on horseback, he was carried in his litter to his grand hunts, which consisted sometimes of several thousand armed men. Besides dissipating the ennui of his vassals, he obtained many other objects by an amusement so analogous to their character; in the unmasked joyousness of the sport, he heard the unreserved opinions of his companions, and gained their affection by thus administering to the favourite pastime of the Rajput, whose life is otherwise monotonous. When in the forest, he would sit down, surrounded by thousands, to regale on the game of the day. Camels followed his train, laden with flour, sugar, spices, and huge cauldrons for the use of his sylvan cuisine; and amidst the hilarity of the moment, he would go through the varied routine of government, attend to foreign and commercial policy, the details of his farms or his army, the reports of his police; nay, in the very heat of the operations, shot flying in all directions, the ancient regent might be discovered, like our immortal Alfred or St. Louis of the Franks, administering justice under the shade of some spreading pipal tree; while the day so passed would be closed with religious rites, and the recital of a mythological epic; he found time for all, never appeared hurried, nor could he be taken by surprise. When he could no longer see to sign his own name, he had an autograph facsimile engraved, which was placed in the special care of a confidential officer, to apply when commanded. Even this loss of one sense was with him compensated by another, for long after he was stone-blind, it would have been vain to attempt to impose upon him in the choice of shawls or clothes of any kind, whose fabrics and prices he could determine by the touch; and it is even asserted that he could in like manner distinguish colours.

His Gardens.

—If, as has been truly remarked, “that man deserves well of his country who makes a blade of grass grow where none grew before,”[18] what merit is due to him who made the choicest of nature’s products flourish where grass could not grow; who covered the bare rock around his capital with soil, and cultivated the exotics of Arabia, Ceylon, and the western Archipelago; who translated from the Indian Apennines (the mountains of Malabar) the coco-nut and palmyra; and thus refuted the assertion that [589] these trees could not flourish remote from the influence of a marine atmosphere? In his gardens were to be found the apples and quinces of Kabul, pomegranates from the famed stock of Kagla ka bagh[19] in the desert, oranges of every kind, scions of Agra and Sylhet, the amba of Mazagon, and the champa-kela,[20] or golden plantain, of the Deccan, besides the indigenous productions of Rajputana. Some of the wells for irrigating these gardens cost in blasting the rock thirty thousand rupees each; he hinted to his friends that they could not do better than follow his example, and a hint always sufficed. He would have obtained a prize from any horticultural society for his improvement of the wild ber (jujube), which by grafting he increased to the size of a small apple. In chemical science he had gained notoriety; his itrs, or essential oils of roses, jessamine, ketaki, and keura,[21] were far superior to any that could be purchased. There was no occasion to repair to the valley of Kashmir to witness the fabrication of its shawls; for the looms and the wool of that fairy region were transferred to Kotah, and the Kashmirian weaver plied the shuttle under Zalim’s own eye. But, as in the case of his lead-mines, he found that this branch of industry did not return even sixteen annas and a half for the rupee,[22] the minimum profit at which he fixed his remuneration; so that after satisfying his curiosity, he abandoned the manufacture. His forges for swords and firearms had a high reputation, and his matchlocks rival those of Bundi, both in excellence and elaborate workmanship.

Wrestling.

—His corps of gladiators, if we may thus designate the Jethis, obtained for him equal credit and disgrace. The funds set apart for this recreation amounted at one time to fifty thousand rupees per annum; but his wrestlers surpassed in skill and strength those of every other court in Rajwara, and the most renowned champions of other States were made “to view the heavens,”[23] if they came to Kotah. But in his younger days Zalim was not satisfied with the use of mere natural weapons, for occasionally he made his Jethis fight with the baghnakh,[24] or tiger-claw, when they tore off the flesh from each other [590]. The chivalrous Ummed Singh of Bundi put a stop to this barbarity. Returning from one of his pilgrimages from Dwarka, he passed through Kotah while Zalim and his court were assembled in the akhara (arena) where two of these stall-fed prize-fighters were about to contend. The presence of this brave Hara checked the bloody exhibition, and he boldly censured the Regent for squandering on such a worthless crew resources which ought to cherish his Rajputs. This might have been lost upon the Protector, had not the royal pilgrim, in the fervour of his indignation, thrown down the gauntlet to the entire assembly of Jethis. Putting his shield on the ground, he placed therein, one by one, the entire panoply of armour which he habitually wore in his peregrinations, namely, his matchlock and its ponderous accompaniments, sword, daggers, staff, and battleaxe, and challenged any individual to raise it from the ground with a single arm. All tried and failed; when Sriji, though full sixty years of age, held it out at arm’s length during several seconds. The Haras were delighted at the feat of their patriarchal chief; while the crest-fallen Jethis hung their heads, and from that day lost ground in the favour of the regent. But these were the follies of his earlier days, not of the later period of his life: he was then like an aged oak, which, though shattered and decayed, had survived the tempest and the desolation which had raged around it.

The Last Years of Zālim Singh.

—To conclude: had he imitated Diocletian, and surrendered the purple, he would have afforded another instance of the anomalies of the human understanding; that he did not do so, for the sake of his own fame and that of the controlling power, as well as for the welfare of his prince, must be deeply lamented; the more especially as his chhari (rod) has descended to feeble hands. He had enjoyed the essentials of sovereignty during threescore years, a period equal in duration to that of Darius the Mede; and had overcome difficulties which would have appalled no ordinary minds. He had vanquished all his enemies, external and internal, and all his views as regarded Haraoti were accomplished.

Amongst the motives which might have urged the surrender of his power, stronger perhaps than his desire of reparation with heaven and his prince, was the fear of his successor’s inefficiency; but this consideration unhappily was counterbalanced by the precocious talents of his grandson, whom he affectionately loved, and in whom he thought he saw himself renewed. Pride also, that chief ingredient in his character, checked such surrender; he feared the world would suppose he had relinquished what he could no longer retain; and ruin would have been preferred to the idea that he had been “driven from his stool.” Able and artful ministers flattered the feeling so deeply rooted, and to crown the whole, he was supported by obligations of public faith contracted by a power without a rival. Still, old age, declining health, the desire of repose and of religious retirement, prompted wishes which often escaped his lips [591]; but counteracting feelings intruded, and the struggle between the good and evil principle lasted until the moment had passed when abdication would have been honourable. Had he, however, obeyed the impulse, his retreat would have more resembled that of the fifth Charles than of the Roman King. In the shades of Nathdwara he would have enjoyed that repose, which Diocletian could not find at Salona; and embued with a better philosophy and more knowledge of the human heart, he would have practised what was taught, that “there ought to be no intermediate change between the command of men and the service of God” [592].


1. [Jhābua, in Bhopāwar Agency, Central India (IGI, xiv. 104 ff.).]

2. [A British cantonment in Gwalior State (IGI, xix. 105 f.).]

3. [In the Mathura District, United Provinces of Agra and Oudh.]

4. Letter of Maharao Kishor Singh, accompanying counter-articles, presented to Capt. Tod, dated Asoj badi Panchami, or 16th September, ‘Camp Miyana.’

(After compliments.)

Chand Khan has often expressed a desire to know what were my expectations. These had been already sent to you by my wakils, Mirza Muhammad Ali Beg, and Lala Salik Ram. I again send you the Schedule of Articles. According to their purport you will act. Do me justice as the representative of the British Government, and let the master be as master, and the servant as servant; this is the case everywhere else, and is not hidden from you.

Articles, the fulfilment of which was demanded by Maharao Kishor Singh, and accompanying his letter of 16th September.

1. According to the treaty executed at Delhi, in the time of Maharao Ummed Singh, I will abide.

2. I have every confidence in Nanaji Zalim Singh; in like manner as he served Maharao Ummed Singh, so he will serve me. I agree to his administration of affairs; but between Madho Singh and myself suspicions and doubts exist; we can never agree; therefore, I will give him a jagir; there let him remain. His son, Bapa Lal, shall remain with me, and in the same way as other ministers conduct State business before their princes, so shall he before me. I, the master, he, the servant; and if as the servant he acts, it will abide from generation to generation.

3. To the English Government, and other principalities, whatever letters are addressed shall be with my concurrence and advice.

4. Surety for his life, and also for mine, must be guaranteed by the English Government.

5. I shall allot a jagir for Prithi Singh (the Maharao’s brother), at which he will reside. The establishments to reside with him and my brother Bishan Singh shall be of my nomination. Besides, to my kinsmen and clansmen, according to their rank, I shall give jagirs, and they shall, according to ancient usage, be in attendance upon me.

6. My personal or khas guards, to the amount of three thousand, with Bapa Lal (the regent’s grandson) shall remain in attendance.

7. The amount of the collections of the country shall all be deposited in the Kishan Bhandar (general treasury), and thence expenditure made.

8. The Kiladars (commandants) of all the forts shall be appointed by me, and the army shall be under my orders. He (the regent) may desire the officers of Government to execute his commands, but it shall be with my advice and sanction.

These are the Articles I desire; they are according to the rules for government (rajrit)—Mitti Asoj Panchami, S. 1878 (1822).

5. Lieutenant M‘Millan, of the 5th Regt. Native Infantry, volunteered for this duty, and performed it as might have been expected from an officer of his gallantry and conduct.

6. [The battle was fought at Māngrol, on the left bank of the Pārbati River, about 40 miles N.N.E. from Kotah city, on October 1, 1821.]

7. The Author, who placed himself on the extreme left of the regent’s line, to be a check upon the dubious conduct of his troops, particularly noted this intended movement, which was frustrated only by Major Kennedy’s advance.

8. Lieutenants Clarke and Read, of the 4th Regt. Light Cavalry.

9. Major (now Lt.-Col.) J. Ridge, C.B.

10. Lieut. (now Captain) M‘Millan and the Author were the only officers, I believe, who witnessed this singular scene.

11. In a letter, addressed by some of the principal chiefs to the regent, through the Agent, they did not hesitate to say they had been guided in the course they adopted of obeying the summons of the Maharao, by instructions of his confidential minister.

12. The native treasurer at Delhi, who conducted these intrigues, after a strict investigation was dismissed from his office; and the same fate was awarded to the chief Munshi of the Persian secretary’s office at the seat of government. Regular treaties and bonds were found in the camp of the Maharao, which afforded abundant condemnatory evidence against these confidential officers, who mainly produced the catastrophe we have to record, and rendered nugatory the most strenuous efforts to save the misguided prince and his brave brethren.

13. The Author, who had to perform the painful duty related in this detailed transaction, was alternately aided and embarrassed by his knowledge of the past history of the Haras, and the mutual relations of all its discordant elements. Perhaps, entire ignorance would have been better—a bare knowledge of the treaty, and the expediency of a rigid adherence thereto, unbiassed by sympathy, or notions of abstract justice, which has too little in common with diplomacy. But without overlooking the colder dictates of duty, he determined that the aegis of Britain should not be a shield of oppression, and that the remains of Hara independence, which either policy or fear had compelled the regent to respect, should not thereby be destroyed; and he assumed the responsibility, a few days after the action, of proclaiming a general amnesty to the chiefs, and an invitation to each to return to his dwelling. He told the regent that any proceeding which might render this clemency nugatory, would not fail to dissatisfy the Government. All instantly availed themselves of the permission; and in every point of view, morally and physically, the result was most satisfactory, and it acted as a panacea for the wounds our public faith compelled us to inflict. Even in the midst of their compulsory infliction, he had many sources of gratulation: and of these he will give an anecdote illustrative of Rajput character. In 1807, when the Author, then commencing his career, was wandering alone through their country, surveying their geography, and collecting scraps of their statistics, he left Sindhia battering Rahatgarh [in Sāgar District, Central Provinces] and with a slender guard proceeded through the wilds of Chanderi, and thence direct westwards to trace the course of all the rivers lying between the Betwa and the Chambal. In passing through Haravati, leaving his tent standing at Bara, he had advanced with the perambulator as far as the Kali-Sind, a distance of seventeen miles; and, leaving his people to follow at leisure, was returning home unattended at a brisk canter, when, as he passed through the town of Bamolia, a party rushed out and made him captive, saying that he must visit the chief [582]. Although much fatigued, it would have been folly to refuse. He obeyed, and was conveyed to a square, in the centre of which was an elevated chabutra or platform, shaded by the sacred tree. Here, sitting on carpets, was the chief with his little court. The Author was received most courteously. The first act was to disembarrass him of his boots; but this, heated as he was, they could not effect: refreshments were then put before him, and a Brahman brought water, with a ewer and basin, for his ablutions. Although he was then but an indifferent linguist, and their patois scarcely intelligible to him, he passed a very happy hour, in which conversation never flagged. The square was soon filled, and many a pair of fine black eyes smiled courteously upon the stranger—for the females, to his surprise, looked abroad without any fear of censure; though he was ignorant of their sphere in life. The Author’s horse was lame, which the chief had noticed; and on rising to go, he found one ready caparisoned for him, which, however, he would not accept. On reaching his tent the Author sent several little articles as tokens of regard. Fourteen years after this, the day following the action at Mangrol, he received a letter by a messenger from the mother of the chief of Bamolia, who sent her blessing, and invoked him, by past friendship and recollections, to protect her son, whose honour had made him join the standard of his sovereign. The Author had the satisfaction of replying that her son would be with her nearly as soon as the bearer of the letter. The Bamolia chief, it will be recollected, was the descendant of the chief of Aton, one of the great opponents of the regent at the opening of his career.

14. The battle of Bhatwara was fought in S. 1817, or A.D. 1761; the action at Mangrol, Oct. 1, A.D. 1821.

15. Job, chap. xxxi. 38-40.

16. [Zālim Singh died in 1824, and was succeeded as regent by his son, Mādho Singh, who was notoriously unfit for office, and he was succeeded by his son, Madan Singh. Maharāo Kishor Singh II. died in 1828, and was succeeded by his nephew, Rām Singh II. (1828-66). Six years after his accession disputes again arose between him and his minister, Madan Singh, and it was resolved to dismember the State of Kotah, and to create the new principality of Jhālawār as a separate provision for the descendants of Zālim Singh (IGI, xv. 414; H. H. Wilson, continuation of Mill, Hist. of British India, 1846, vol. ii. p. 424).]

17. [Āīn, ii. 338 f.]

18. [Swift, Gulliver’s Travels: Voyage to Brobdingnag.]

19. [Kāgla kā bāgh, ‘The Crow’s Garden.’]

20. [Musa champa, or Chīni champa, the finest of all plantains (Watt, Econ. Prod. 787).]

21. [Pinus odoratissimus, the screw-pine, used for its fibre, and “for, perhaps, the most characteristic and most widely used perfume of India” (ibid. 188, 727).]

22. There are sixteen annas to the rupee or half-crown.

23. “Āsmān dikhlānā” is the phrase of the ‘Fancy’ in these regions for victory; when the vanquished is thrown upon his back and kept in that attitude. [For an account of the JethiJethi wrestlers of the Telugu country see Thurston, Castes and Tribes of Southern India, ii. 456 ff.]

24. See an account of this instrument by Colonel Briggs, Transactions of Royal Asiatic Society, vol. ii. [See Vol. II. p. 721.]