=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._
]