=Morwan=, _February 1_.—Yesterday, Man Singh took up the whole of my
time with the feuds of Lawa and their consequences. It obliged me to
halt, in order to make inquiries into the alienated lands in its
vicinity. Morwan is, or rather was, a township of some consequence, and
head of a _tappa_ or subdivision of a district. It is rated, with its
contiguous hamlets, at seven thousand rupees annual rent. The situation
is beautiful, upon heights pleasingly diversified, with a fine lake to
the westward, whose margin is studded with majestic tamarind trees. The
soil is rich, and there is water in great abundance within twenty-five
feet of the surface; but man is wanting! The desolation of solitude
reigns throughout, for (as Rousseau observes) there is none to whom one
can turn and say, _que la solitude est belle_!
I experienced another pang at seeing this fertile district revert to the
destroyer, the savage Pathan, who had caused the desolation, and in the
brief but expressive words of a Roman author, _solitudinem facit, pacem
appellat_.[11.3.1] Morwan is included in the lands mortgaged for a
war-contribution, but which with others has remained in the hands of the
Mahratta mortgagees or their mercenary subordinates. But it is
melancholy to reflect that, but for a false magnanimity towards our
insidious, natural enemies, the Mahrattas, all these lands would have
reverted to their legitimate masters, who are equally interested with
ourselves in putting down predatory warfare. Justice, good policy, and
humanity would have been better consulted had the Mahrattas been wholly
banished from Central India. When I contrasted this scene with the
traces of incipient prosperity I had left behind me, I felt a
satisfaction that the alienated acres produced nothing to the possessor,
save luxuriant grass, and the leafless _kesula_ or _palas_
[615].[11.3.2]
=Antiquities at Morwan.=—Morwan has some claims to antiquity; it derives
its appellation from the Mori tribe, who ruled here before they obtained
Chitor. The ruins of a fort, still known by the name of Chitrang Mori’s
castle, are pointed out as his residence ere he founded Chitor, or more
properly Chitror.[11.3.3] The tradition runs thus: Chitrang, a
subordinate of the imperial house of Dhar, held Morwan and the adjacent
tract, in appanage. One of his subjects, while ploughing, struck the
share against some hard substance, and on examination found it was
transmuted to gold. This was the _paras-patthar_,[11.3.4] or
‘philosopher’s stone,’ and he carried it forthwith to his lord, with
whose aid he erected the castle, and enlarged the town of Morwan, and
ultimately founded Chitor. The Dhulkot, or site of Mori-ka-patan, is yet
pointed out, to the westward of the present Morwan. It was miraculously
destroyed through the impieties of its inhabitants by fire, which fate
recalls a more celebrated catastrophe; but the act of impiety in the
present case was merely seizing a Rishi, or ‘hermit,’ while performing
penance in the forest, and compelling him to carry radishes to market!
The tradition, however, is of some value: it proves, first, that there
were radishes in those days; and secondly, that volcanic eruptions
occurred in this region. Ujjain-Ahar, in the valley of Udaipur, and the
lake of which is said in some places to be _atak_, ‘deeper than plummet
sounded,’ is another proof of some grand commotion of nature. Morwan
boasts of three mandirs, or temples, one of which is dedicated to
Seshnag, the thousand-headed hydra which supports the globe. Formerly,
saffron was the meet offering to this king of reptiles; but he is now
obliged to be content with ointment of sandal, produced from the
evergreen, which is indigenous to Mewar.
Having heard of an inscription at the township of Aner, five miles
distant, to the south-west, I requested my old Guru to take a ride and
copy it. It was of modern date, merely confirming the lands of Aner to
the Brahmans. The tablet is in the temple of Chaturbhuja (the four-armed
divinity), built and endowed by Rana Sangram Singh in S. 1570 (A.D.
1514); to whose pious testament a codicil is added by Rana Jagat Singh,
S. 1791, imprecating an anathema on the violator of it. There was also
engraved upon one of the columns a voluntary gift, from the
village-council of Aner to the divinity, of the first-fruits of each
harvest; namely, two and a half sers from each _khalla_, or heap, of the
spring-crops, and the same of the autumnal. The date, S. 1845 (A.D.
1789), shows that it was intended to propitiate the deity during the
wars of Mewar [616].
Directly opposite, and very near the shrine of the “four-armed,” is a
small Jain temple, erected, in S. 1774, to cover an image of the great
pontiff, Parsvanath, found in digging near this spot. Here at every step
are relics of past ages.
_February 2._—An accident has compelled another halt at Morwan. The
morning was clear and frosty, not a cloud in the sky, and we rose with
the sun; my kinsman, Captain Waugh, to try his Arab at a nilgae, and
myself to bag a few of the large rock-pigeons which are numerous about
Morwan. My friend, after a hard run, had drawn blood from the elk, and
was on the point of spearing him effectually just as he attained a thick
part of the jungle, which not heeding, horse and rider came in contact
with a tree, and were dashed with violence to the ground. There he lay
insensible, and was brought home upon a _charpai_, or cot, by the
villagers, much bruised, but fortunately with no broken bones. A leech
was not to be had in any of the adjacent villages; and the patient
complaining chiefly of the hip-bone, we could only apply emollients and
recommend repose. I returned with no game except one or two
black-partridges and batten-quail. The rock-pigeon, or _barr-titar_,
though unaccustomed to the fowler, were too wild for me to get a shot at
them. The bird bears no analogy to the pigeon, but has all the rich game
plumage of the _titar_, or partridge, in which name the ornithologist of
the west will see the origin of _tetrao_. There are two species of this
bird in India, one much smaller than the common partridge; that of which
I speak is much larger, and with the peculiarity of being feathered to
the toe. I have since discovered it to be the counterpart of a bird in
the museum at Chambéry, called '_barteveldt des Alpes_'; the ptarmigan
of the highlands of Scotland. The male has exactly these redundant white
feathers; while that I saw in Savoy was a richly plumaged female
_barr-titar_.
=Tale of a Tiger.=—Our annual supply of good things having reached us
this morning, we were enjoying a bottle of some delicious Burgundy and
“La Rose” after dinner, when we were roused by violent screams in the
direction of the village. We were all up in an instant, and several men
directed to the spot. Our speculations on the cause were soon set at
rest by the appearance of two harkaras (messengers), and a lad with a
vessel of milk on his head. For this daily supply they had gone several
miles, and had nearly reached the camp, when having outwalked the boy,
they were alarmed by his vociferations, “Oh, uncle, let go—let go—I am
your child, uncle, let me go!” They thought the boy mad, and it being
very dark, cursed his uncle, and desired him to make haste; but the same
wild exclamations continuing, they ran back, and found a huge [617]
tiger hanging to his tattered cold-weather doublet. The harkaras
attacked the beast most manfully with their javelin-headed sticks, and
adding their screams to his, soon brought the whole village, men, women,
and children, armed with all sorts of missiles, to the rescue; and it
was their discordant yells that made us exchange our good fare for the
jungles of Morwan.
The ‘lord of the black rock,’ for such is the designation of the tiger,
was one of the most ancient bourgeois of Morwan; his freehold is
Kala-pahar, between this and Magarwar, and his reign for a long series
of years has been unmolested, notwithstanding his numerous acts of
aggression on his bovine subjects; indeed, only two nights before, he
was disturbed gorging on a buffalo belonging to a poor oilman of Morwan.
Whether this tiger was an incarnation of one of the Mori lords of
Morwan, tradition does not say; but neither gun, bow, nor spear had ever
been raised against him. In return for this forbearance, it is said he
never preyed upon man, or if he seized one, would, upon being entreated
with the endearing epithet of _mamu_ or uncle, let go his hold; and this
accounted for the little ragged urchin using a phrase which almost
prevented the harkaras returning to his rescue.
=Disastrous Effects of Frost=, _February 3_.—Another halt for our
patient, who is doing well, and greatly relieved by the application of
leeches obtained from Nimbahera.[11.3.5] What a night! the clouds which
had been alternately collecting and dispersing ever since we left
Marwar, in December last, but had almost disappeared, as we commenced
our present march, again suddenly gathered. The thermometer, which had
averaged 41° at daybreak throughout the last month, this morning rose to
60°. On the 1st the wind changed to the south, with showers, where it
continued throughout yesterday; but during the night it suddenly veered
to the north, and the thermometer at daybreak was 28°, or four degrees
below the freezing point. Reader, do you envy me my _bon vin de
Bourgogne et murailles de coton_, with not even a wood fire, labouring
under a severe pulmonary affection, with work enough for five men? Only
three days ago the thermometer was 86° at noon, and to-day it is less at
noon than yesterday at daybreak: even old England, with all her
vicissitudes of weather, can scarcely show so rapid a change as this.
Ill-fated Mewar! all our hopes are blasted; this second visitation has
frustrated all our labours. The frost of December, which sunk the
mercury to 27° as we passed over the plains of Marwar, was felt
throughout Rajwara, and blighted every pod of cotton. All was “burnt
up”; but our poor exiles comforted [618] themselves, amidst the general
sorrow, with the recollection that the young gram was safe. But even
this last hope has now vanished: all is nipped in the bud. Had it
occurred a month ago, the young plant would have been headed down with
the sickle, and additional blossoms would have appeared. I was too
unwell to ride out and see the ravages caused by this frost.
_February 4._—Our patient is doing so well, that we look to moving
to-morrow. Thermometer 28° at daybreak, and 31° at sunrise, with a keen
cutting wind from the north. Ice closed the orifice of the _mashak_, or
leathern water-bag. Even the shallow stream near the tents had a
pellicle of ice on its surface: our people huddling and shivering round
their fires of bajra sticks, and the cattle of all classes looking very
melancholy.
=Temple of Māmā Devi.=—My Yati friend returned from Palod, where I had
sent him to copy an inscription in a temple dedicated to Mama-devi, the
mother of the gods; but he was disappointed, and brought back only the
following traditional legend. The shrine, erected by a wealthy Jain
disciple, was destined to receive the image of one of their pontiffs;
but on its completion, Mama-devi appeared _in propriâ personâ_ to the
founder, and expressed so strongly her desire to inhabit it, that,
heretic as he was, he could not deny the goddess’ suit. He stoutly
refused, however, to violate the rules of his order: “By my hands the
blood neither of goats or buffaloes can be shed,” said the Jain. But,
grateful for the permission that a niche should be set apart for her
_sarup_ (form), she told him to go to the Sonigira chief of Chitor, who
would attend to the rites of sacrifice. The good Jain, with easy faith,
did as he was commanded, and erecting another temple, succeeded at
length in enshrining Parsvanath. My old friend, however, discovered in a
temple to Mataji, ‘the universal mother,’[11.3.6] an inscription of
great importance, as it fixes the period of one of the most conspicuous
kings of the Solanki dynasty of Nahrvala, or correctly, Anhilwara Patan;
and, in conjunction with another of the same prince (which I afterwards
discovered in Chitor), also bearing the very same date,[11.3.6]
demonstrates that the Solanki had actually made a conquest of the
capital of the Guhilots. The purport is simply that “Kumarpal Solanki
and his son Sohanpal, in the month of Pus (the precise day illegible),
S. 1207 (winter of A.D. 1151), came to worship the Universal Mother in
her shrine at Palod.”[11.3.7] The Sesodias try to get rid of this
difficulty by saying, that during the banishment [619] of Kumarpal by
Siddharaja, he not only enjoyed _saran_ (refuge) at Chitor,[11.3.8] but
held the post of prime minister to Rawal Samarsi, the friend and
brother-in-law of the Chauhan emperor of Delhi; but the inscription
(given in the first volume), which I found in the temple built by Lakha
Rana, is written in the style of a conqueror, “who planted his standard
even in Salpur,” the city of the Getae in the Panjab. At all events, it
is one more datum in the history of Rajputana.
_February 5_, thermometer 30°.—Mounted Bajraj, ‘the royal steed,’ and
took a ride over the heights of Morwan, a wild yet fairy scene, with the
Patar or table-land bounding the perspective to the east. The downs are
covered with the most luxuriant grasses, and the _dhak_ or _palas_ dried
by the wintry blast, as if scorched by the lightning, faintly brought to
mind the poet’s simile, applied to this tree, even in the midst of
spring: “The black leafless _kesula_.” We entered a village in ruins,
whose nim trees bid defiance to winter; the ‘thorny babul’ (_mimosa
Arabica_) grows luxuriantly out of the inner sides of the walls, and no
hand invades the airy nest of the imitative _papiha_, fantastically
pendent from the slenderest branches.[11.3.9] No trace of the presence
of man; but evidence that he has been here. The ground was covered with
hoar-frost, and the little stream coated with ice. Many a heavy heart
has it caused, and plunged joyous industry into utter despondence. Take
one example: yonder Jat, sitting by the side of his field, which he eyes
in despair; three months since, he returned, after many years of exile,
to the _bapota_, the land of his sires, without funds, without food, or
even the implements for obtaining it. He had been labouring as a serf in
other lands, but he heard of peace in his own, and came back to the
paternal acres, which had been a stranger to the ploughshare since he
was driven from his cot in S. 1844, immediately following the battle of
Harkiakhal, when the “Southron” completed the bondage of Mewar. What
could he do? his well was dried up, and if not, he had no cattle to
irrigate a field of wheat or barley. But Mewar is a kind mother, and she
yields her chana crop without water. To the Bohra (the metayer) he
promised one-fifth of the produce for the necessary seed and the use of
a pair of oxen and a plough; one-fifth more was the share of the state
from land so long sterile; there were three-fifths left for himself of
his long-neglected but at once luxuriant fields. He watched the crop
with paternal solicitude, from the first appearance of verdure to the
approach of Basant, the joyous spring. Each night, as he returned to his
yet roofless abode, he related the wonders of his field and its rapid
vegetation; and as he calculated the produce, he anticipated its
application; “so much shall go [620] for a plough, so much for the
Bohra, so much in part payment of a pair of bullocks, and the rest will
keep me in bread till the _makkai_ crop is ready.” Thus the days passed,
until this killing frost nipped his hopes in the bud, and now see him
wringing his hands in the bitterest anguish! This is no ideal picture:
it is one to be found in every village of Mewar. In this favoured soil
there is as much of chana in the rabi harvest as of wheat and barley
conjoined, and in the first crop sown in _banjar_, or soil long sterile,
wheat and chana are sown together. It is a sad blow to the exiles;
though happily in the crown-lands their distress will be mitigated, as
these are rented on leases of five years, and the renters for their own
sakes must be lenient, and moreover they are well watched.
_February 6._—Still halting; our patient very well, though he feels his
bruises; but we shall put him on an elephant to-morrow. The jealousy of
the Mahratta had hitherto prevented the inhabitants from fulfilling
their desire to come and visit me; but to-day, the elders forming the
Panchayat, heading the procession, they came _en masse_. The authorities
need not have feared exposing the nakedness of the land, which is too
visible; but they apprehended the contrast of their condition with our
poor subjects, who were at least unmolested in their poverty. It was a
happiness to learn that this contrast was felt, and as the Patel
presented to me an engaging little child, his daughter, he said, “Let
not our misfortunes be our faults; we all belong to Mewar, though we are
not so happy as to enjoy your protection and care.” I assured him, that
although under the Turk, I should look upon them as my children, and the
subjects of the Rana; and I have had it in my power to redeem this
pledge—for, strange to say, even Amir Khan, seeing that the prosperity
of the subject is that of the prince, has commanded his governor of
Nimbahera to consult me in everything, and has even gone so far as to
beg I would consider the place as under my authority. Already, following
our example, he has reduced the transit duties nearly one-half, and
begins to think the Farangi notions of economy better than his own, his
loss having proved a gain.
=Nikumbh=, _February 7_: eleven miles.—Midway, passed through Chakurla,
a village belonging to Amir Khan. Nikumbh is a _taluk_ of Jawad, which
with Mandipia was held by the Pindari freebooter, Fazil, while Jaswant
Rao Bhao held them in _jaedad_. They are now leased to a Pandit by the
Hakim of Jawad, which latter is assigned by Sindhia to his
father-in-law, the Senapati. Nikumbh is a good village, but more than
two-thirds depopulated, and the renter is prevented from being lenient,
as he experiences [621] no mercy himself. Notwithstanding they have all
been suffering as we have from this frost, an assessment is now levying.
One poor fellow said to me, “I returned only three months ago from
exile, and I had raised the mud-walls of my hut two feet, when my wife
died, leaving me to take care of a boy eight years of age, and to get
bread for both. If the walls were two feet higher I would cover it in;
but though I have not a foot of land, my roofless half-finished cot is
assessed a rupee and a half”: a gift of two rupees made him happier than
his Hakim!
The country is beautiful, the soil rich, and water, as already
mentioned, about twenty-five feet from the surface. We are now in the
region of the flower sacred to “gloomy Dis,” the accursed poppy. The
crop looks miserable from the frost, but those patches within the
influence of the wells are partly saved by the fields being inundated,
which expedient is always successful upon such visitations, if applied
with judgment. The mountains touching great Sadri lay twelve miles south
coming from Partabgarh, and ranging to Salumbar and Udaipur, where they
commingle with the giant Aravalli.
=The Chāran Tribe. Marla=, _February 8_: seven miles.—Crossed two ridges
running northward to Badesar. The intervening valleys, as usual,
fertile, with numerous villages, but alienated to the southern Goths or
the partisan Pathan. Passed many large townships, formerly in the fisc
of Mewar, as Bari, Banota, Bambori, etc. In the distance, saw “the
umbrella of the earth,” the far-famed Chitor. Marla is an excellent
township, inhabited by a community of Charans, of the tribe Kachhela,
who are Banjaras (carriers) by profession, though poets by birth. The
alliance is a curious one, and would appear incongruous, were not gain
the object generally in both cases. It was the sanctity of their office
which converted our Bardais into Banjaras, for their persons being
sacred, the immunity extended likewise to their goods, and saved them
from all imposts; so that in process of time they became the
free-traders of Rajputana. I was highly gratified with the reception I
received from the community, which collectively advanced to me at some
distance from the town. The procession was headed by the village-band,
and all the fair Charanis, who, as they approached, gracefully waved
their scarfs over me, until I was fairly made captive by the muses of
Marla! It was a novel and interesting scene: the manly persons of the
Charans, clad in the flowing white robe, with the high loose folded
turban inclined on one side, from which the _mala_, or chaplet, was
gracefully suspended; the Naiks, or leaders, with their massive
necklaces of gold, with the image of the _pitrideva_ (manes) depending
therefrom, gave the whole an air of opulence and dignity. The females
were uniformly [622] attired in a skirt of dark brown camlet, having a
bodice of light-coloured stuff, with gold ornaments worked into their
fine black hair; and all had the favourite _churis_, or rings of
_hathi-dant_ (elephant’s tooth), covering the arm, from the wrist to the
elbow, and even above it. Never was there a nobler subject for the
painter in any age or country; it was one which Salvator Rosa would have
seized, full of picturesque contrasts: the rich dark tints of the female
attire harmonizing with the white garments of their husbands; but it was
the mien, the expression, the gestures, denoting that though they paid
homage they expected a full measure in return. And they had it; for if
ever there was a group which bespoke respect for the natural dignity of
man and his consort, it was the Charan community of Marla.
It was not until the afternoon, when the Naiks again came to see me at
my camp, that I learned the full value of my escape from the silken
bonds of the fair Charanis. This community had enjoyed for five hundred
years the privilege of making prisoner any Rana of Mewar who may pass
through Marla, and keeping him in bondage until he gives them a _got_,
or entertainment; and their chains are neither galling, nor the period
of captivity, being thus in the hands of the captivated, very long. The
patriarch told me that I was in jeopardy, as the Rana’s representative;
but not knowing how I might have relished the joke, had it been carried
to its conclusion, they let me escape, though they lost a feast by it.
But I told them I was too much delighted with old customs not to keep up
this; and immediately sent money to the ladies with my respects, and a
request that they would hold their _got_ (feast). The patriarch and his
subordinate Naiks and their sons remained with me to discourse on the
olden time.
The founders of this little colony accompanied Rana Hamir from Gujarat
in the early part of his reign, and although five centuries have
elapsed, they have not parted with one iota of their nationality or
their privileges since that period: neither in person, manners, or
dress, have they anything analogous to those amidst whom they dwell.
Indeed, their air is altogether foreign to India, and although they have
attained a place, and that a high one, amongst the tribes of Hind, their
affinity to the ancient Persian is striking; the loose robe, high
turban, and flowing beard being more akin to the figures on the temples
of the Guebres than to anything appertaining to the Charbaran, or four
classes of the Hindus. But I must give the tale accounting for their
settlement in Mewar. Rana Hamir, so celebrated in the history of Mewar,
had a leprous spot on his hand, to remove which he made a pilgrimage to
the shrine of Hinglaj, upon the [623] coast of Mekran, the division
Oreitai of Arrian’s geography.[11.3.10] He had reached the frontiers of
Cutch Bhuj, when alighting near a _tanda_, or encampment of Charans, a
young damsel abandoned the meal she was preparing, and stepped forward
to hold the stranger’s steed. Thanking her for her courtesy, he jocosely
observed that he wished his people had as good a breakfast as she was
preparing, when she immediately made an offering of the contents of the
vessel; on which Hamir observed, it would go but a short way to satisfy
so many hungry mouths. “Not if it pleased Hinglajji,” she promptly
replied; and placing the food before the Rana and his train, it sufficed
for all their wants. A little well, which she excavated in the sand, was
soon filled with a copious supply of water, which served to quench their
thirst. It was an evident interposition of the goddess of Hinglaj in
favour of this her royal votary. He returned from her shrine cured, and
the young Charani’s family were induced to accompany him to Mewar, where
he bestowed upon them the lands of Marla, with especial immunities in
their mercantile capacity: and as a perpetual remembrance of the
miraculous feast, permission was granted to the Charani damsels to make
captive of their sovereign as related above.
The colony, which now consists of some thousands of both sexes,
presented an enigma to our young Englishmen, who think “all black
fellows alike,” and equally beneath notice: it was remarked how
comfortable they looked in house and person, though there was not a
vestige of cultivation around their habitations. The military policy of
the troubled period accounts for the first; and a visit to the altars of
Marla will furnish the cause of the neglect of the agrarian laws of
Mewar. As the community increased in numbers, the subdivision of the
lands continued, according to the customs of Cutch, until a dispute
regarding limits produced a civil war. A ferocious combat ensued, when
the wives of the combatants who were slain ascended the funeral pile;
and to prevent a similar catastrophe, imprecated a curse on whomever
from that day should cultivate a field in Marla; since which the land
has lain in absolute sterility! Such is the implicit reverence for the
injunction of a Sati, at this moment of awful inspiration, when about to
take leave of the world. In Mewar, the most solemn of all oaths is that
of the Sati. _Maha sati an-ki-an_, ‘by the great Satis,’ is an
adjuration frequently used in the royal patents.
The _tanda_ or caravan, consisting of four thousand bullocks, has been
kept up amidst all the evils which have beset this land, through Mogul
and Mahratta tyranny. The utility of these caravans, as general carriers
to conflicting armies, and as regular tax-paying subjects, has proved
their safeguard, and they were too strong [624] to be pillaged by any
petty marauder, as any one who has seen a Banjara encampment will be
convinced. They encamp in a square; their grain-bags piled over each
other breast-high, with interstices left for their matchlocks, make no
contemptible fortification. Even the ruthless Turk, Jamshid Khan, set up
a protecting tablet in favour of the Charans of Marla, recording their
exemption from _dand_ contributions, and that there should be no
increase in duties, with threats to all who should injure the community.
As usual, the sun and moon are appealed to as witnesses of good faith,
and sculptured on the stone. Even the forester Bhil and mountain Mer
have set up their signs of immunity and protection to the chosen of
Hinglaj; and the figures of a cow and its _kheri_ (calf), carved in rude
relief, speak the agreement that they should not be slain or stolen
within the limits of Marla.
=Nīmbahera=: seven miles.—The soil, as usual, excellent; but from
Ranikhera to Nimbahera the blue schist at intervals penetrates the
surface, and there is but little superincumbent soil even to the bed of
the stream, which makes an entire disclosure of the rock, over which
flows a clear rivulet abounding with small fish, amongst which the
speckled trout were visible. Ranikhera, through which we passed, is the
largest township of this district, and was built by the Rani of Arsi
Rana, mother of the present ruler of Mewar, at whose expense the temple,
the _baori_ or ‘reservoir,’ and the paved street, were constructed.
Although in the alienated territory, I had a visit from its elders to
complain of an indignity to the community by the Bhangi, or scavenger,
of Lesrawan, who had killed a hog and thrown it into the reservoir,
whose polluted waters being thus rendered unfit for use, the inhabitants
were compelled to get a purer element from the adjacent villages. This
_baori_ is about half-a-mile from the town, and being upon the highway,
the council and train very wisely stopped at the spot where the
aggression had happened: and although the cavalcade of the Hakim of
Nimbahera was in sight, advancing to welcome me, it was impossible to
proceed until I heard the whole grievance, when adjured by “subjects of
Mewar, and children of the Rana, though unhappily under the Turk,” to
see their wrongs redressed. I might not have recorded this incident, but
for its consequence; as the hog thrown into the reservoir of Baijiraj,
‘the royal mother,’ of Mewar, affords an instance of the extent to which
mortgage is carried.
The Bhangis, or scavengers, of Ranikhera, the very refuse of mankind,
had mortgaged their rights in the dead carcases of their town to a
professional brother of Lesrawan; but, on the return of these halcyon
days, they swerved from their bond [625]. The chieftain of Lesrawan
espoused his vassal’s cause, and probably pointed out the mode of
revenge. One morning, therefore, not having the fear of Jamshid of
Nimbahera before his eyes, the said mortgagee slew his pig; and, albeit
but the wreck of a human being, contrived to cast his victim into the
pure fountain of ‘Queenstown,’ and immediately fled for _saran_ to
Bhindar. But what could be done to a wretch, who for former misdeeds had
already suffered the dismemberment of an arm, a leg, and his nose? Here
is the sentence! “To be paraded, mounted on an ass, his face blackened,
with a chaplet of shoes round his neck, and drummed out of the limits of
Ranikhera!” The fountain is now undergoing purification; and when the
polluted waters are baled out, it is to be lustrated with the holy
stream of the Ganges, and the ceremony will conclude with a _got_, or
feast, to one hundred Brahmans. Previous to this, I took a peep at the
humble altars of Ranikhera. All is modern; but there is one tablet which
pleasingly demonstrates that both public feeling and public gratitude
exist in these regions. This tablet, set up by the council of the town,
recorded that Kistna, the Silpi or stone-cutter, did at his own expense
and labour repair all the altars then going to decay; for which pious
act they guaranteed to him and his successors for ever six _thalis_ or
platters of various viands, saffron, oil, butter, and several pieces of
money, at every village fête. Doubtless such traits are not confined to
Ranikhera. I accepted with kindness the offerings of the elders and
assembled groups—a pot of curds and sundry blessings—and continued my
journey to meet the impatient cavaliers of Nimbahera, who, to fill up
the interlude, were _karowling_,[11.3.11] with matchlock and spear,
their well-caparisoned chargers. The Khan was in the centre of the
group, and we had a friendly, unceremonious _dastabazi_, or shaking of
hands, without dismounting. He is a gentlemanly Pathan, of middle age,
courteous and affable, and a very different personage from the
two-handed Jamshid his predecessor, who lately died from a cancer in his
back: a judgment, if we are to credit our Mewar friends, for his
horrible cruelties and oppressions over all these regions, as lieutenant
of Amir Khan during many years. The Khan welcomed me to Nimbahera with
true Oriental _politesse_, saying, “that the place was mine”; and that
he had received the “positive instructions of the Nawab Sahib (Amir
Khan, whose son-in-law he is) to look upon me as himself.” I replied,
that, in accepting such a trust, I could not say more than that I would,
whenever occasion presented itself, act for him as if Nimbahera were
really my own. The Khan had reason to find that his confidence was not
misplaced; and while enabled to benefit him, I had also the opportunity
of protecting the interests [626] of the feudatories, who by this
alienation (as is fully related in the Annals of Mewar) were placed
beyond the pale of the Rana’s power. The Khan, after accompanying me to
my tents, took leave; but paid me a long visit in the evening, when we
discussed all that concerned the welfare of his charge and the peace of
the borders. As matters stand, it is a duty to conciliate and to promote
prosperity; but it is melancholy to see this fertile appanage of Mewar
in the hand of so consummate a villain as Amir Khan; a traitor to his
master Holkar, for which he obtained the “sovereignty in perpetuity” of
many rich tracts both in Mewar and Amber, without rendering the smallest
service in return. Let this be borne in mind when another day of
reckoning comes. Nimbahera is a considerable town, with an excellent
stone circumvallation; and, being on the high road between Malwa and
Hindustan, it enjoys a good share of traffic. Upwards of one hundred
villages are attached to it, and it was estimated at three lakhs of
rupees, of annual rent.
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Footnote 11.3.1:
[Tacitus, _Agricola_, xxx.]
Footnote 11.3.2:
[_Butea frondosa._]
Footnote 11.3.3:
[Chitor was called Chitrakot after Chitrang Mori or Maurya, whose tomb
and ruined palace are shown on the southern part of the hill (Erskine
ii. A. 102).]
Footnote 11.3.4:
In the Hindi _patthar_, Sanskrit _prastara_, ‘stone, rock,’ we have
nearly the πέτρος of the Greeks.
Footnote 11.3.5:
[In Tonk State, about 60 miles E. of Udaipur city.]
Footnote 11.3.6:
See inscription, Vol. II. p. 925.]
Footnote 11.3.7:
The style of this inscription is perfectly in unison with the
inscriptions on the temples and statues of Egypt.
Footnote 11.3.8:
[Kumārapāla, when exiled, went to Kālambapattana, probably Kolam or
Quilon in Travancore, and thence to Chitrakūta or Chitor (_BG_, i.
Part i. 183). From thence he went to Ujjain, and it is impossible that
he could have served Rāwal Samar Singh, who reigned about A.D.
1274-85, while the date of Kumārapāla’s reign is A.D. 1143-74.]
Footnote 11.3.9:
[Possibly the “_papya_” of the original text represents _papīha_, a
variety of cuckoo, _cuculus melanolencos_. The _baya_ or weaver-bird
is apparently meant.]
Footnote 11.3.10:
[The name of the Oreitai is supposed to be represented in that of the
Aghor River: they are the Neoritai of Diodorus (McCrindle,
_Alexander_, 168, note 1; Smith, _EHI_, 106 f.).]
Footnote 11.3.11:
[_Qarāvali_, ‘skirmishing, a running fight.’]
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