CHAPTER 13

=Pachpahār. Monson’s Retreat. Fate of Lieutenant Lucan.= _December

10._—We returned to Garot yesterday, whence we marched ten miles

north-north-east this morning over memorable ground. It was from Garot

that the retreat of Monson commenced, an event as remarkable in the

history of British India as the retreat of Xenophon in that of Greece.

The former has not been commemorated by the commander, though even the

pen of Xenophon himself could not have mitigated the reproach which that

disastrous event has left upon our military reputation. Holkar was at

Partabgarh,[11.13.1] when, hearing of the advance of the English army,

he made direct on Mandasor,[11.13.2] where he halted merely to refresh

his horses, and crossing the Chambal at the Aunra ford, he pushed direct

on Garot, a distance of nearly fifty miles. Local report states that

Monson, in utter ignorance of the rapid advance of Holkar, had that

morning recommenced his march for Chandwasa, with what object is

unknown; but as soon as he learned the vicinity of the foe, without

awaiting him, he ordered a retrograde movement to gain the Mukunddarra

pass, leaving Lucan with the irregular horse and the Kotah auxiliaries,

chiefly Hara Rajputs, to secure his retreat. Holkar’s army amounted to

ten thousand horse, in four _gols_, or masses, each acting separately.

That under —— Khan Bangash[11.13.3] came on Lucan from the south, while

that under Harnath Dada, from the direction of Bhanpur, attacked the

Kotah contingent. Lucan defended himself like a hero, and having

repelled all their charges, had become the assailant, when he received

his death-blow from a hand in his own Paegah.[11.13.4] My informant, who

was that day opposed to this gallant soldier, described the scene,

pointing out the mahua tree close to which he fell.

=Heroism of Amar Singh Hāra.=—The auxiliary band of Kotah was led by the

Hara chief of Kolai, his name Amar Singh. On receiving the orders of the

English commander, he prepared, in the old Hara style, to obey them. The

position he selected was about a quarter of a mile west of Lucan, on the

north bank of the Amjar, his left protected by the village of [727]

Pipli, which stands on a gentle eminence gradually shelving to the

stream, the low abrupt bank of which would secure him from any charge in

front. Here, dismounting from his horse, Amar Singh, surrounded by one

thousand men, “spread his carpet,” resolved to defend the passage of the

Amjar. His force was chiefly infantry, who met the enemy with volleys of

matchlocks, and filled the stream with their bodies; but just as he was

about to close with them, a ball hit him in the forehead and another in

the right breast. He fell, but immediately rose again, and reclining

against a sugar mill-stone, encouraged his men to the charge. The

calmness of his manner indicated no danger, but it was the dying effort

of a Hara: pointing with his sword to the foe, he fell back and expired.

Four hundred and fifty of his men were either killed or wounded around

their chief, and among the latter, the Palaitha[11.13.5] chief, the next

in rank to Koila, and the Bakhshi, or paymaster-general of Kotah, was

made prisoner, and forced to sign a bond for ten lakhs of rupees as a

ransom, a penalty for siding with the English.

A humble altar of clay marks the spot where the brave Hara fell, having

a tablet, or Jujhar, representing as usual a cavalier and his steed,

armed at all points. I felt indignation at the indifference of the

regent who had not marked the spot with a more durable monument, but he

is no Hara; though could he entomb the whole tribe, he would erect a

structure rivalling even that of Mausolus. But this receives a homage

which might be denied to a more splendid one; for the villagers of Pipli

fail not in their duty to the manes of Amar Singh, whose lowly altar is

maintained in repair. The devoted Lucan has not even so frail a monument

as this; nor could I learn if the case which enclosed his gallant spirit

had any rites of sepulture. But his memory will be cherished by the

inhabitants of Pipli, who will point to the mahua tree as that of

“_Lucan Sahib ka Jujhar_.”

By the sacrifice of these brave men, the British commander gained the

Mukunddarra pass, without seeing even an enemy; had he there left only

five companies, with sufficient supplies and ammunition, under such men

as Sinclair or Nichol, Mukunddarra might have rivalled Thermopylae in

renown; for such is the peculiarity of the position, that it would have

taken a week to turn it, and that could be done by infantry alone. But

the commander “had no confidence in his men”: why then did he accept the

command? Throughout the retreat the sipahis were eager for the fight,

and expressed their opinion openly of their leader; and when this

‘doubting’ commander left five companies to defend the passage of the

Banas, how did they perform it? by repelling every assault, while a

particle of ammunition lasted. I have often passed this [728] ford, once

with Sindhia’s army, and only three years after the retreat. The gallant

stand was admirably described to me by Zaman Khan Rohilla, a brave

soldier and no boaster (and that day among our foes), who coolly pointed

to the precise spot where he shot one of our officers, in the last

charge, with his pistol. He said that the Mahratta infantry would no

longer return to the charge, and that Jaswant Rao was like a madman,

threw his turban on the ground and called for volunteers amongst the

cavalry, by whom at length Sinclair and his men were cut off. It is a

lesson by which we ought to profit, never to place in command of sipahis

those who do not understand, confide in, and respect them.

=Pachpahār.=—Pachpahar is a thriving town, the head of one of the four

districts of which, by the right of war, we became possessed, and have

transferred from Holkar to the regent; so far we have discharged the

debt of gratitude. Eighty villages are attached to Pachpahar, which,

though never yielding less than half a lakh of rupees, is capable of

raising more than twice that sum. There are two thousand houses in the

town, which has an extensive bazar filled with rich traders and bankers,

all of whom came to visit me. The cornelian continues to strew the

ground even to this place.

=Kanwāra=, _December 11_; thirteen miles; direction, N.E. by E.—Passed

over a fine rich soil, with promising young crops of wheat and gram, and

plenty of the last crop (_juar_) in stacks; a sight not often seen in

these war-trodden plains, and which makes the name, Kanwara, or ‘the

land of corn,’ very appropriate. At the village of Aonla, four miles

south, we crossed the high road leading from Ujjain through the _darra_

to Hindustan, the large town of Sonel lying three miles to our right.

=Jhālrapātan=,[11.13.6] _December 12_; ten miles; direction, N.N.E.—The

road over the same fertile soil. Passed the Chandarbhaga rivulet, the

source of which is only two coss distant, and was shown, within range,

the isolated hill of Raleta, formerly the retreat of a Bhil community,

which sent forth four thousand bowmen to ravage the plains of Malwa:

these were extirpated by Zalim Singh.

Jhalrapatan is the creation of the regent; and, as we approached it, his

kindness procured me the distinction of being met, a full mile beyond

the town, by the chief magistrate, the council, and the most wealthy

inhabitants: an honour duly appreciated, this being the only town in

India possessing the germs of civil liberty, in the power of framing

their own municipal regulations. This is the more remarkable, as the

immunities of their commercial charter were granted by the most despotic

ruler of India; though the boon was not a concession to liberty, but an

act of policy; it was [729] given for value received, or at least

expected, and which has been amply realized. Having exchanged

salutations, and promised a more extended courtesy at my tents in the

evening, we took advantage of the town being thinned, and passed in

under a general discharge of ordnance from the ramparts. The city is

nearly a square, surrounded by a substantial wall and bastions, well

furnished with cannon. The ground plan is simple, being that of the

Indian Chaupan or cross, with two main streets intersecting each other

at right angles, and many smaller ones running parallel to them. The

main street is from south to north. We proceeded through this Bara Bazar

until we reached the point of intersection, where, upon a broad terrace,

stands a temple to Chaturbhuja, the ‘four-armed’ god, at least ninety

feet in height. The marble dome and colonnaded mandap, and the general

proportions of the structure, attracted my attention; but having been

recently repaired and coated with white, I passed it by, conceiving it

to be modern, and not likely to furnish historical data. From thence to

the northern gate is a range, on either side, of houses of a uniform

structure, having a great appearance of comfort; and the street, which

is nearly a mile long, terminates with a temple erected by the regent to

his favourite divinity, Dwarkanath. The image here enshrined was

ploughed up from the ruins of the ancient city, and carried to the

regent at Kotah, who, leaving to the choice of the god the title under

which, and the site where, he would be worshipped, his various names

were inscribed and placed under the pedestal; the priest drew forth that

of Gopalji, and a magnificent shrine was erected to him upon the bank of

one of the finest lakes in India, the waters of which, raised by an

artificial dam, could be made to environ it at pleasure.

In a street to the north, and parallel to the first, but as yet

incomplete, is a handsome temple, dedicated to the sixteenth Jain

prophet. This also, I afterwards discovered, was an antique structure,

recently repaired, and one of the hundred and eight temples, the bells

of which sounded in the ancient city; whence its name Jhalrapatan, or

‘the city of bells,’ and not, as erroneously stated hitherto, from the

tribe of the regent, Jhalara-patan, or ‘city of the Jhala’;[11.13.7]

ignorance of which fact made me pass over the temples, under the

supposition that they were coeval with its modern foundation. I stopped

for a few moments at the mansion of the chief magistrate, Sah Maniram,

and having expressed my admiration of all I had seen, and my hope that

the prosperity of the city would redouble under his paternal care in

these days of peace, I made my salaam and took leave. Opposite his

house, engraved on a [730] pillar of stone, is the charter of rights of

the city.[11.13.8] Its simplicity will excite a smile; but the

philosopher may trace in it the first rudiments of that commercial

greatness, which made the free cities of Europe the instruments of

general liberty. Few of these had their privileges so thoroughly

defined, or so scrupulously observed; and the motive which brought the

community together was the surest guarantee against their infringement.

A state of general war made them congregate, and was the origin of these

immunities, which the existing peace and tranquillity will perpetuate.

Any want of good faith would be the destruction of Patan.

When the regent took advantage of the times to invite the wealthy of all

the surrounding regions to become settlers in this new mart, he wisely

appealed to the evidence of their senses as the best pledge for the

fulfilment of his promises. Simultaneously with the charter, the

fortifications were commenced, and an adequate garrison was placed here

under a commandant well known and respected. He excavated wells,

repaired the dam of the old lake, and either built anew or repaired the

religious edifices of all sects at the expense of the State; and, to

secure uniformity and solidity in the new habitations, he advanced to

every man who required it half the money necessary for their

construction. But the greatest boon of all was his leaving the

administration of justice, as well as of internal police, entirely in

the hands of the municipal authorities, who, to their credit, resolved

that the fines and forfeitures arising therefrom, instead of becoming a

bait for avarice and vexatious interference, should be offerings to the

shrine of Dwarkanath.

It is proper to say that the chief magistrate, Sah Maniram, who is of

the Vaishnava sect, has a coadjutor in Gumaniram, of the Oswal tribe and

Jain faith, and each has his separate tribunal for the classes he

represents, while the whole form a joint council for the general weal.

They pull well together, and each has founded a _pura_, or suburb, named

after their children. The Chauthias, or members of this council, are

selected according to the general sense entertained of their fitness;

and were the chief magistrates also the free choice of the inhabitants

at large, ‘the city of bells’ would require no addition to her freedom.

Thus, in the short space of twenty years, has been raised a city of six

thousand comfortable dwellings, with a population of at least

twenty-five thousand souls. But the hereditary principle, so powerful

throughout these countries, and which, though it perpetuates many evils,

has likewise been productive of much good, and has preserved these

States from annihilation, will inevitably [731] make the ‘turban’ of

magistracy descend from the head of Maniram or Gumani to their children,

under whom, if they be not imbued with the same discretion as their

parents, the stone tablet, as well as the subsequent privileges of

Jhalrapatan, may become a dead letter. The only officers of government

residing in the town are the commandant and the collector of the

imposts; and so jealous are they of the least interference on his part,

that a fine would be inflicted on any individual who, by delaying the

payment of the authorized duties, furnished an excuse for his

interference.

Such is an outline of an internal administration, on which I have just

had a commentary of the most agreeable description: a public visit from

all the wealth and worth of Patan. First came the merchants, the

brokers, the insurers of the Vaishnava persuasion, each being introduced

with the name of the firm; then followed the Oswal merchants, in similar

form, and both of them I seated in the order of their introduction and

respectability. After them followed the trades, the Chauthia or deacons,

each making his _nazar_ in the name of the whole body. Then came the

artisans, goldsmiths, braziers, dyers, confectioners, down to the

barbers, and town-crier. The agricultural interest was evidently at a

discount in Patan, and subordinate to the commercial; the old Mandloi

Patels were, “though last, not least” in this interesting assemblage.

Even the frail sisterhood paid their devoirs, and, in their modesty of

demeanour, recalled the passage of Burke applied in contrast to a

neighbouring State, “vice lost half its deformity, by losing all its

grossness.”[11.13.9] Sah Maniram himself preserved order outside, while

to his colleague he left the formalities of introduction. The

goldsmiths’ company presented, as their _nazar_, a small silver

powder-flask, shaped as an alligator, and covered with delicate

chain-work, which I shall retain not only as a specimen of the craft,

but in remembrance of a day full of unusual interest. They retired in

the same order as they came, preceded by the town band, flags, trumpets,

and drums.

Such is Jhalrapatan. May the demon of anarchy keep from its walls, and

the orthodox and heterodox Duumvirs live in amity for the sake of the

general good, nor by their animosities increase the resemblance which

this mart bears to the free cities of Europe!

From all I could learn, justice is distributed with as even a hand as in

most societies, but wherever existed the community that submitted to

restraint, or did not murmur at the fiat of the law? Jhalrapatan is now

the grand commercial mart of Upper Malwa, and has swallowed up all the

commerce of the central towns between [732] its own latitude and Indore.

Though not even on the high road, when established, this difficulty was

overcome by the road coming to it. The transit-duties on salt alone must

be considerable, as that of the lakes of western Rajwara passes through

it in its way to the south-east. It is not famed, however, for any

staple article of trade, but merely as an entrepôt.

[Illustration:

ENTRANCE TO THE SANCTUARY OF A TEMPLE AT CHANDRAVATI.

_To face page 1784._

]

=Ruins of Chandrāvati.=—We have said enough of the modern city, and must

now revert to the ancient, which, besides its metaphorical appellation

of ‘the city of bells,’ had the name of Chandravati, and the rivulet

which flowed through it, the Chandrabhaga.[11.13.10] There is an

abundance of legends, to which we may be enabled to apply the test of

inscriptions. In some, Raja Hun is again brought forward as the founder

of the city; though others, with more probability, assign its foundation

to the daughter of Chandrasen, the Pramar king of Malwa, who was

delivered of a son on this spot while on a pilgrimage.[11.13.11] Another

ascribes it to a more humble origin than either, _i.e._ to Jasu, a poor

woodcutter of the ancient tribe of Or,[11.13.12] who, returning

homewards from his daily occupation, dropped his axe upon the

_paras-patthar_, with the aid of which he transmuted iron to gold, and

raised ‘the city of the moon’ (Chandravati); and the lake is still

called after him Jasu Or ka talab. The Pandu Bhim likewise comes in for

his share of the founder’s fame; who, with his brethren during their

covenant with the Kauravas, found concealment in the forest; but his

foe, fearing the effect of his devotions, sent his familiar to disturb

them. The spirit took the form of a boar, but as he sped past him

through the thicket, Bhim discharged an arrow, and on the spot where

this fell, the Chandrabhaga sprung up. Whoever was the founder, I have

little doubt that tradition has converted Yasodharman,[11.13.13] the

grandson of Udayaditya, the monarch of all Malwa, into the woodcutter;

for not only does this prince’s name occur in one of the inscriptions

found here, but I have discovered it in almost every ancient city of

Central India, over which his ancestors had held supreme power from the

first to the thirteenth century of Vikrama.[11.13.14]

The sites of temples mark the course of the stream for a considerable

distance, the banks being strewed with ruins. Flights of steps, forming

ghats, reach to the water’s edge, where multitudes of gods, goddesses,

and demons, are piled, and some [733] of the more perfect placed upon

altars of clay, around which some lazy, well-fed Gosains loiter, basking

in the sun. Understanding that no umbrage could be taken if I exported

some of them to Udaipur, I carried off Narayan on his hydra-couch, a

Parbati, a Trimurti, and a cartload of the dii minores, which I found

huddled together under a bar-tree. There was a fine statue of Ganesa,

but our efforts to move Wisdom were ineffectual, and occasioned not a

few jokes among my Brahmans; nor must I pass over a colossal Baraha

(boar), of which no artist in Europe need be ashamed.

The powers of Destruction and Reproduction were those propitiated among

the one hundred and eight shrines of Chandravati; of which only two or

three imperfect specimens remain to attest the grandeur of past days.

Everywhere, the symbolic lingam was scattered about, and the _mandap_ of

one of those still standing I found filled with representations of the

Hindu Hecate and a host of lesser infernals, the sculpture of which,

though far inferior to that at Barolli, is of a high order compared with

aught of modern times. The attitudes are especially well managed, though

there is a want of just proportion. Even the anatomical display of the

muscles is attended to; but the dust, oil, and _sendur_ (vermilion) of

twelve centuries were upon them, and the place was dark and damp, which

deterred us from disturbing them.

* * * * *

Ghasi is now at work upon the outline of two of the remaining shrines,

and has promised to give up ten days to the details of the ceilings, the

columns, and the rich varied ornaments, which the pencil alone can

represent. One of these shrines, having a part of the Singar Chaori

still standing, is amongst the finest things in Asia, not for magnitude,

being to all appearance merely receptacles for the inferior divinities

surrounding some grand temple, but for the sculptured ornaments, which

no artist in Europe could surpass (_vide_ Plate). Each consists of a

simple mandir, or cella, about twenty feet square, having a portico and

a long open colonnaded vestibule in front for the priests and votaries.

Every one of these numerous columns differs in its details from the

others. But the entrance chiefly excites admiration, being a mass of

elaborate workmanship of a peculiar kind, and the foliage and flowers

may be considered perfect. It is deeply to be lamented that no artists

from [734] Europe have made casts from these masterpieces of sculpture

and architecture, which would furnish many new ideas, and rescue the

land sacred to Bhavani (Minerva) from the charge of having taught

nothing but deformity: a charge from which it is my pride to have

vindicated her.

[Illustration:

SCULPTURED FOLIAGE IN CHANDRAVATI TEMPLE.

_To face page 1786._

]

* * * * *

While I remained with Ghasi, amidst the ruins, I dispatched my Guru and

Brahmans to take diligent search for inscriptions; but many of these, as

well as thousands of divinities, the wrecks of ancient Patan, have been

built up in the new town or its immense circumvallation; but our efforts

were not altogether unrewarded.

* * * * *

The oldest inscription, dated S. 748 (A.D. 692), bore the name of Raja

Durgangal, or ‘the bar of the castle.’[11.13.15] It is very long, and in

that ornamented character peculiar to the Buddhists and Jains throughout

these regions. It contains allusions to the local traditions of the

Pandu Arjun, and his encounter with the demon Virodhi[11.13.16] under

the form of Baraha, or the boar; and states that from the spot where the

Varaha was wounded, and on which his blood fell, a figure sprung,

originating from the wound (_khat_), whose offspring in consequence was

called Khatri: “of his line was Krishna Bhat Khatri, whose son was

Takshak. What did he resemble, who obtained the fruits of the whole

earth, conquering numerous foes? He had a son named Kaiyak, who was

equal to the divinity which supports the globe: in wisdom he was

renowned as Mahadeo: his name sent to sleep the children of his foe: he

appeared as an avatar of Buddha, and like the ocean, which expands when

the rays of the full moon fall upon it, even so does the sea of our

knowledge increase when he looks upon it: and his verses are filled with

ambrosia (_amrita_). From Chait to Chait, sacrifice never ceased

burning: Indra went without offspring.[11.13.17] The contributions from

the land were raised with justice, whilst his virtues overshadowed the

three worlds. The light which shines from the tusks of his foe’s

elephant had departed; and the hand which struck him on the head, to

urge him on, emitted no sound. Where was the land that felt not his

influence? Such was Sri Kaiyak! when he visited foreign lands, joy

departed from the wives of his foe: may all his resolves be

accomplished!

“S. 748 (A.D. 692), on the full moon of Jeth, this inscription was

placed in the mandir, by Gupta, the grandson of Bhat Ganeswar, lord of

the lords of verse of Mundal, and son of Hargupta: this writing was

composed, in the presence of Sri [735] Durgangal Raja, to whom,

salutation! that forehead alone is fair which bows to the gods, to a

tutor, and to woman! Engraved by Ulak the stonecutter.”[11.13.18]

On this curious inscription we may bestow a few remarks. It appears to

me that the wild legion of the creation of this Khatri, from the blood

of Baraha, represented as a Danava, or demon in disguise, is another

fiction to veil the admission of some northern race into the great Hindu

family. The name of Baraha, as an ancient Indo-Scythic tribe, is

fortunately abundantly preserved in the annals of Jaisalmer, which

State, at the early periods of the Yadu-Bhatti history, opposed their

entrance into India; while both Takshak (or Tak) and Kaiyak are names of

Tatar origin, the former signifying ‘the snake,’ the latter ‘the

heavens.’ The whole of this region bears evidence of a race whose

religion was ophite, who bore the epithet of Takshak as the name of the

tribe, and whose inscriptions in this same nail-headed character are

found all over Central and Western India. If we combine this with all

that we have already said regarding Raja Hun of Bhadravati, and Angatsi

the Hun, who served the Rana of Chitor at this precise period,[11.13.19]

when an irruption is recorded from Central Asia, we are forced to the

conclusion, that this inscription (besides many others) is a memorial of

a Scythic or Tatar prince, who, as well as the Gete prince of

Salpura,[11.13.20] was grafted upon Hindu stock.

[Illustration:

SCULPTURED CEILINGS OF TEMPLE AT CHANDRAVATI.

_To face page 1788._

]

The inscription next in point of antiquity was from the Jain temple in

the modern town. It was dated the 3rd of Jeth, S. 1103 (A.D. 1047), but

recorded only the name of a visitor to the shrine.

Near the dam of the Or-sagar, there was a vast number of funeral

memorials, termed Nisia,[11.13.21] of the Jain priesthood. One is dated

“the 3rd of Magh, S. 1066 (A.D. 1010), on which day Srimant Deo, Chela,

or disciple, of Acharya Srimana Dewa, left this world.” The bust of the

Acharya, or doctor, is in a studious posture, the book lying open upon

the Thuni or cross, which forms a reading-desk, often the only sign of

the _nisia_ to mark a Jain place of sepulture.

The adjoining one contained the name of Devindra Acharya; the date S.

1180.

Another was of “Kumar-deo, the Panda or priest of the race of Kumad

Chandra Acharya, who finished his career on Thursday (_guruwar_) the Mul

nakshatra[11.13.22] of S. 1289.”

There are many others, but as, like these, they contained no historical

data, they were not transcribed [736].

=Nārāyanpur=, _December 13_, eleven miles.—Marched at daybreak, and

about a coss north of the city ascended the natural boundary of Haraoti

and Malwa; at the point of ascent was Gundor, formerly in the appanage

of the Ghatirao (‘lord of the pass’), one of the legendary heroes of

past days; and half a coss further was the point of descent into the

Antri, or ‘valley,’ through which our course lay due north. In front, to

the north-west, Gagraun, on the opposite range, was just visible through

the gloom; while the yet more ancient Mhau,[11.13.23] the first capital

of the Khichis, was pointed out five coss to the eastward. I felt most

anxious to visit this city, celebrated in the traditions of Central

India, and containing in itself and all around much that was worthy of

notice. But time pressed; so we continued our route over the path

trodden by the army of Alau-d-din when he besieged Achaldas in

Gagraun.[11.13.24] The valley was full three miles wide, the soil

fertile, and the scenery highly picturesque. The forest on each side

echoed with the screams of the peacock, the calls of the partridge, and

the note of the jungle-cock, who was crowing his matins as the sun

gladdened his retreat. It was this Antri, or valley, that the regent

selected for his Chhaoni, or ‘fixed camp,’ where he has resided for the

last thirty years. It had at length attained the importance of a town,

having spacious streets and well-built houses, and the materials for a

circumvallation were rapidly accumulating: but there is little chance of

his living to see it finished. The site is admirably chosen, upon the

banks of the Amjar, and midway between the castle of Gagraun and

Jhalrapatan. A short distance to the west of the regent’s camp is the

Pindari-ki-chhaoni, where the sons of Karim Khan, the chief leader of

those hordes, resided; for in these days of strife the old regent would

have allied himself with Satan, if he had led a horde of plunderers. I

was greatly amused to see in this camp, also assuming a permanent shape,

the commencement of an Idgah, or ‘place of prayer’; for the villains,

while they robbed and murdered even defenceless women, prayed five times

a day!

We crossed the confluent streams of the Au and Amjar, which, flowing

through the plains of Malwa, have forced their way through the exterior

chain into the Antri of Gagraun, pass under its western face, dividing

it from the town, and then join the Kali Sind [737].

[Illustration:

COLUMNS OF TEMPLES AT CHANDRAVATI.

_To face page 1790._

]

=Gāgraun.=—Until you approach close to Gagraun, its town and castle

appear united, and present a bold and striking object; and it is only on

mounting the ridge that one perceives the strength of this position, the

rock being scarped by the action of the waters to an immense height. The

ascent to the summit of the ridge was so gradual that our surprise was

complete, when, casting our eye north, we saw the Kali Sind sweeping

along the northern face of both fort and town, whence it turns due

north, ploughing its serpentine passage, at a depth of full two hundred

feet below the level of the valley, through three distinct ranges, each

chasm or opening appearing in this bold perspective like a huge portal,

whence the river gains the yielding plains of Haraoti. As we passed

under the town, we were saluted by a discharge from all the ordnance on

its ramparts, and the governor, who had advanced to meet us at the

express desire of his master, invited us in; but though strongly

pressed, and equally desirous to see a place of such celebrity, I would

not make myself acquainted with the secrets of this chief stronghold of

the regent. On whichever side an enemy might approach it, he would have

to take the bull by the horns. It was only by polluting the waters with

the blood of the sacred kine, that Ala, ‘the sanguinary’ (Khuni), took

it about five centuries ago from the valiant Khichi, Achaldas, an

account of whose family would be here out of place. Independent of

ancient associations, there is a wild grandeur about Gagraun, which

makes it well worthy of a visit, and the views from the north must be

still finer than from the point whence we beheld it.

[Illustration: Gāgraun, Chhāoni.]

We passed over the ridge at the extremity of the town, and descended

into another Antri, up which we journeyed nearly due west until we

reached our camp at Narayanpur. The valley was from four to six hundred

yards in breadth, and in the highest state of cultivation; to preserve

which, and at the same time to secure the game, the regent, at an

immense expense, has cut deep trenches at the skirt of the hills on each

[738] side, over which neither deer nor hog can pass, while the forests

that crown the hills to their summit are almost impervious even to wild

beasts. We passed various small cantonments, where the regent could

collect the best part of his army, some even on the summit of the ridge.

At all of these are wells, and reservoirs termed _po_.

=Mukunddarra Pass=, _December 14_, ten miles.—At daybreak, commenced our

march up the valley, and midway between Narayanpur and the Darra,

reached the ruined castle of Ghati, so called from its being erected on

the summit of the ridge commanding an outlet of the valley. Partly from

the gradual ascent of the valley, and from the depression of the ridge,

we formed rather a mean opinion of the pass (_ghati_); but this feeling

was soon lost when we attained the crest, and found ourselves on a

scarped rock of some hundred feet in elevation, commanding a view over

all the plains of Malwa, while at our feet was a continuation of the

Antri of the Amjar, which we observed gliding through the deep woods the

regent has allowed to remain at the entrances of these valleys.

Tradition is eloquent on the deeds of the ‘Lords of the Pass,’ both of

the Khichi and Hara, and they point out the impression of Mehraj

Khichi’s charger, as he sprang upon the Islamite invaders. There are

many cenotaphs to the memory of the slain, and several small shrines to

Siva and his consort, in one of which I found an inscription not only

recording the name of Mehraj, but the curious fact that four generations

were present at the consecration of one to Siva. It ran thus: “In S.

1657 and Saka 1522, in that particular year called Somya, the sun in the

south, the season of cold, in the happy month Asoj, the dark half

thereof, on Sunday, and the thirty-sixth ghari; in such a happy moment,

the Khichi of Chauhan race, Maharaj Sri Rawat Narsinghdeo, and his son

Sri Rawat Mehraj, and his son Sri Chandarsen, and his son Kalyandas,

erected this _sivala_ (house of Siva); may they be fortunate! Written by

Jaya Sarman, and engraved by Kamma, in the presence of the priest

Kistna, the son of Mahesh.”

[Illustration:

ENTRANCE TO THE SANCTUARY OF A TEMPLE AT CHANDRAVATI.

_To face page 1792._

]

=Heroism of Gumān Hāra.=—We shall pass over the endless tales of the

many heroes who fell in its defence, to the last of any note—Guman

Singh, a descendant of Sawant Hara. The anecdote I am about to insert

relates to the time when Rao Durjansal was prince of Kotah, and the post

of Faujdar was held by a Rathor Rajput, Jai Singh of Gagorni. Through

the influence of this faujdar, Guman was deprived of the honour of

defending the pass, and his estate sequestrated. He was proceeding

homeward with a heavy heart from the presence of his sovereign, when he

met the faujdar with his train [739]. It was dark, and a torch-bearer

preceded him, whom Guman dashed to the earth, and with his iron lance

transfixed the Rathor to his palki. Making for the gate, he said it was

the Rao’s order that none should pass until his return. As soon as he

gained his estate, he proceeded with his family and effects to Udaipur,

and found _sarna_ with the Rana, who gave him an estate for the support

of himself and his followers. There he remained until Kotah was besieged

by Raja Isari Singh of Jaipur, when he obtained the Rana’s leave to fly

to its defence. Passing over the Patar, he made for Kotah, but it was

invested on every side. Determined to reach it or perish, he ordered his

nakkara to beat, and advanced through the heart of the enemy’s camp. The

Jaipur prince asked who had the audacity to beat close to his quarters,

and being told “The Rawat of the Pass, from Udaipur,” he expressed a

wish to see the man, of whom he had heard his father say he had,

unarmed, slain a tiger. The Hara obeyed the summons, but would only

enter the Presence in the midst of his band. He was courteously received

and offered large estates in Jaipur; the Raja remarking that Guman Singh

was only going to his doom, since “in the space of eating a pan he

(Isari Singh) would be master of Kotah.” Losing all patience, Guman

said, “Take my salaam and my defiance, Maharaj; the heads of twenty

thousand Haras are with Kotah.” He was permitted to pass the batteries

unmolested, and on reaching the river, he called aloud, “The Ghata Rawat

wants a boat,” to conduct him to his sovereign, whom he found seated

behind the walls encouraging the defence. At that very moment a report

was brought that a breach was nearly effected at a particular point; and

scarcely had the prince applauded his swamidharma, than, making his bow,

Guman marched his followers to the breach, and “there planted his

lance.” Such were the Haras of past days; but the descendants of the

‘Rawat of the Pass’ are now in penury, deprived of their lands, and hard

pressed to find a livelihood.

We continued our march from this Pass, often moistened with Rajput

blood, and reached the Darra, outside of which we found the old regent

encamped, and whence we issued on our tour just three weeks ago. It was

by mere accident that, some distance up the valley (a continuation of

that we had just quitted), we heard of some ruins, termed the Chaori of

Bhim, one of the most striking remains of art I had yet met with. It is

the fragment only of a quadrangular pile, of which little now remains,

the materials having been used by one of the Kotah princes, in erecting

a small palace to a Bhilni concubine. The columns possess great

originality, and appear to [740] be the connecting link of Hindu and

Egyptian architecture. Not far from the Chaori, where, according to

local traditions, the Pandu Bhim celebrated his nuptials, are two

columns, standing without relation to any other edifice; but in the

lapse of ages the fragments appertaining to them have been covered with

earth or jungle. At every step we found Jujhars, or funeral stones; and

as this ‘Pass of Mukund’ must, as the chief outlet between the Deccan

and northern India, have been a celebrated spot, it is not unlikely that

in remote ages some city was built within its natural ramparts.

Throughout this town, we found many traces of the beneficent but simple

legislation of the Hara princes; and when the regent set up his pillar,

prohibiting chiefly his own violence, he had abundant formulas to appeal

to. We have already alluded to this circumstance in the sketch of his

biography, and we may here insert a free translation of the ordinance we

found engraved in the Pass, and which is recorded throughout Haraoti.

“Maharaj Maharaoji Kishor Singh, ordaining! To all the merchants

(Mahajans), traders, cultivators, and every tribe inhabiting

Mukunddarra. At this time, be full of confidence; trade, traffic,

exchange, borrow, lend, cultivate, and be prosperous; for all _dand_

(contribution) is abolished by the Darbar. Crimes will be punished

according to their magnitude. All officers of trust, Patels, Patwaris,

Sasaris (night-guards), and Mutasaddis (scribes), will be rewarded for

good services, and for evil. None of them shall be guilty of exactions

from merchants or others: this is a law sworn to by all that is sacred

to Hindu or Muslim. Ordained from the royal mouth, and by command of

Nana (grandsire) Zalim Singh, and uncle Madho Singh. Asoj the 10th,

Monday S. 1877 (A.D. 1821).”

[Illustration:

RUINS OF BHĪM’S CHAORI IN THE MUKUNDDARA PASS.

_To face page 1794._

]

=Return to Kotah.=—Having halted a few days, we returned to Kotah by the

towns of Pachpahar and Anandpur; both large and thriving, situated upon

the banks of fine pieces of water. Madho Singh, at the head of a

splendid cavalcade, with six field-pieces, advanced a couple of miles to

conduct me to my old residence, the garden-house, east of the town.

During the six weeks that we remained here to watch the result of the

measures elsewhere described, we endeavoured to find amusement in

various ways, to divert us from brooding upon the cholera which was

raging around us. This season attracts flocks of wild geese to prey upon

the young corn, and we had the double pleasure of shooting and eating

them. Occasionally, we had a shot at a deer, or hunted them down with

the regent’s _chitas_ (hunting-leopards); or with the dogs ran down

jackals [741], foxes, or hares. There was a _ramna_ for wild-hogs about

five miles from our abode, and a delightful summer retreat in the midst

of a fine sheet of water. The animals were so tame, from the custom of

feeding them, that it was almost unsportsmanlike to shoot at them. On

one occasion, the Maharao prepared an excursion upon the water, in which

I was not well enough to join. Numerous Shikaris, or ‘hunters,’

proceeded up either bank to rouse the bears or tigers that find cover

there, when the party from the boats shot at them as they passed. Partly

for the purpose of enjoying this sport, and partly to see the fortress

of Ekelgarh, six miles south of the city, we afterwards made another

excursion, which, though not unattended by danger, afforded a good deal

of merriment. The river here is confined by perpendicular rocks, full

three hundred feet in height; and amidst the debris, these wild animals

find shelter. As the side on which we were did not promise much sport,

we determined to cross the stream, and finding a quantity of timber

suited to the purpose, we set to work to construct a raft; but had only

pushed a few paces from the shore when we began to sink, and were

compelled to make a Jonas of the doctor, though we afterwards sent the

vessel back for him, and in due time landed all our party and

appendages. Being furnished with huntsmen by the regent, who knew the

lairs of the animals, we dispatched them up the stream, taking post

ourselves behind some masses of rock in the only path by which they

could advance. We had been seated about half an hour, when the shouts of

the hunters were heard, and soon a huge bear, his muzzle grey from age,

came slowly trotting up the pathway. Being unable to repress the mirth

of Captain Waugh and the doctor, who were conning over the events of the

morning, just before he came in sight, I had quitted them, and was

trying to gain a point of security a little remote from them; but before

I could attain it, they had both fired and missed, and Bruin came at a

full gallop towards me. When within ten paces, I fired and hit him in

the flank; he fell, but almost instantly recovered, and charged me

open-mouthed, when one of my domestics boldly attacked him with a

hog-spear and saved me from a hug. Between the spear and the shot, he

went floundering off, and was lost in the crevices of the rock. On our

return, we passed the day amidst the ruins of Ekelgarh, an enormous pile

of stones without cement; in all probability, a fortress of some of the

aboriginal Bhils. Both crests of the mountain are covered with jungle,

affording abundant sport to the princes of Kotah. There is a spot of

some celebrity a few coss to the south of this, called Gayapur-Mahadeo,

where there is a cascade from a stream that falls into the Chambal,

whose banks are said to be here upwards of six [742] hundred feet in

height. There are few more remarkable spots in India than the course of

the river from Kotah to Bhainsror, where both the naturalist and the

painter might find ample employment.

I sent scouts in all directions to seek for inscriptions; some of which

are in an unknown character. One of the most interesting, brought from

Kanswa, of a Jat prince, has been given in the first volume of this

work.[11.13.25]

-----

Footnote 11.13.1:

[Capital of the State of that name (_IGI_, xx. 14).]

Footnote 11.13.2:

[Twenty miles N.E. of Partābgarh.]

Footnote 11.13.3:

[Probably Muhammad Khān (Grant Duff, _Hist. of the Mahrattas_, 589).]

Footnote 11.13.4:

[Lucan’s fate was never ascertained; by one account he was poisoned,

and by another that he died of a bowel complaint (_ibid._ 589, note).]

Footnote 11.13.5:

[On the north, close to Kotah city.]

Footnote 11.13.6:

[The commercial capital of the State of Jhālawār, the official capital

being Jhālrapatan Chhāoni, or cantonment. The original name was Pātan;

it was renamed after the first regent, a Jhāla Rājput (_IGI_, xiv. 122

ff.; _Rājputāna Gazetteer_, 1879, ii. 207; _ASR_, xxiii. (1887) 125

ff.).]

Footnote 11.13.7:

[The latter derivation is correct.]

Footnote 11.13.8:

See Vol. I. p. 239. [The fact, here stated, that the town was

placed under municipal government at its foundation in 1796, is not

mentioned in Zālim Singh’s stone tablet. These privileges were

annulled in 1850, when the Kāmdār or minister of Rāna Prithi Singh had

this tablet removed and thrown into a tank, whence it was recovered

about 1876 (_IGI_, xiv. 124).]

Footnote 11.13.9:

[“Vice itself lost half its evil by losing all its grossness,” Burke,

_Reflections on the Revolution in France_, iii. 332.]

Footnote 11.13.10:

[On the ruins of Chandrāvati see Fergusson, _Hist. Ind. Arch._ ed.

1910, ii. 43 f.: _ASR_, ii. 263 ff.]

Footnote 11.13.11:

[Abu-l Fazl (_Āīn_, ii. 211) represents Chandrasen as successor of

Vikramāditya. None of the existing versions of the legend appear to be

older than the sixth or seventh centuries A.D., and it is possible

that the city was refounded by Chandrasen, and named after himself

Chandrāvati (_ASR_, ii. 264).]

Footnote 11.13.12:

[The Or or Orh are a tribe of wandering navvies.]

Footnote 11.13.13:

[Yasodharman was a Rāja of Central India, who joined in the

confederacy against the White Hun, Mihiragula, in which the latter was

defeated about A.D. 528 (Smith, _EHI_, 318, 320; _JRAS_, N.S. v. 280;

Forbes, _Rāsmāla_, 87).]

Footnote 11.13.14:

On a stone tablet, which I discovered at Bundi, of the Takshak race,

are the names both of Chandrasen and Yasodharman, and though no date

is visible, yet that of the latter is fixed by another set of

inscriptions, inserted in the first volume of the _Transactions of the

Royal Asiatic Society_, at S. 1191 or A.D. 1135: the period when the

old Hindu monarchies were breaking up, and consequently the arts

beginning to decay. [See note 13.]

Footnote 11.13.15:

[Cunningham (_ASR_, ii. 266) suspects that this inscription, dated

A.D. 691, came from the beautiful pillared shrine described by him and

by Fergusson. It cannot now be found, “and, unfortunately, Tod’s

account of it, which mixes up Mahādeva with an Avatār of Buddha, does

not appear to be entitled to much confidence.”]

Footnote 11.13.16:

[Perhaps Virādha, who seized Sīta, and was buried alive by Rāma and

Lakshmana (Dowson, _Class. Dict._ 358 f.).]

Footnote 11.13.17:

The allusion to this affords another instance of the presumption of

the priests, who compelled the gods to attend the sacrificial rites,

and hence Indra could not visit his consort Indrani.

Footnote 11.13.18:

[The translation in the text is untrustworthy, and the date is

probably A.D. 824 (_IA_, v. 180 f.; Fergusson, _Hist. Ind. Arch._ ed.

1910, ii. 132 f.).]

Footnote 11.13.19:

See Vol. I. p. 290. [These speculations are now obsolete.]

Footnote 11.13.20:

See Inscription, Vol. II. p. 915.

Footnote 11.13.21:

[Dr. F. W. Thomas has kindly traced this word. It is the old

_nisīdhyā_ (_nisīhiyā_), in its modern form _nisīdhi_ or _nisidhi_, an

ornamental Jain tomb. See _Epigraphia Indica_, ii. 274, with Bühler’s

note; Rice, _Inscriptions at Sravana Belgola_, Archaeological Survey

of Mysore, 1889, 35, 40.]

Footnote 11.13.22:

[A lunar asterism.]

Footnote 11.13.23:

[About 8 miles S.E. of Gāgraun, and 10 miles N.E. of Jhālrapātan.

Cunningham (_ASR_, ii. 293 f.) thinks that this place may have

immediately succeeded Chandrāvati as capital of all the country on the

lower course of the Kāli Sind, shortly after the beginning of the

thirteenth century.]

Footnote 11.13.24:

[The Khīchis, under Rāja Jeth Singh, successfully defended Gāgraun

against Alāu-d-dīn in A.D. 1301. But in the time of Rāja Achaldās,

about 1428, the place was either taken by, or surrendered to, Hoshang

Shāh of Mālwa (_IGI_, xii. 122).]

Footnote 11.13.25:

[Vol. II. p. 917. The name of the place is properly Kanaswa

(_IA_, xix. 55).]

-----

[Illustration:

ANCIENT COLUMNS IN THE MUKUNDDARA PASS.

_To face page 1796._

]

Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, v. 3 of 3 or the Central and Western Rajput States of India · 第 13 / 16 章