CHAPTER 10

=Alliance with the British.=—We now enter upon that period of the regent’s history, when the march of events linked him with the policy of Britain. When in A.D. 1817, the Marquess of Hastings proclaimed war against the Pindaris, who were the very lees of the predatory hordes, which the discomfiture of the greater powers had thrown off, neutrality was not to be endured; and it was announced that all those who were not for us in this grand enterprise, which involved the welfare of all, would be considered against us. The Rajput States, alike interested with ourselves in the establishment of settled government, were invited to an alliance offensive and defensive with us, which was to free them for ever from the thraldom of the predatory armies; in return for which, we demanded homage to our power, and a portion of their revenues as the price of protection. The eagle-eye of Zalim saw at once the virtue of compliance, and the grace attendant on its being quickly yielded. Accordingly, his envoy was the first to connect Kotah in the bonds of alliance, which soon united all Rajwara to Britain. Meanwhile, all India was in arms; two hundred thousand men were embodied, and moving on various points to destroy the germ of rapine for ever. As the first scene of action was expected to be in the countries bordering upon Haraoti, the presence of an agent with Zalim Singh appeared indispensable. His instructions were to make available the resources of Kotah to the armies moving round him, and to lessen the field [556] of the enemy’s manœuvres, by shutting him out of that country. So efficient were these resources, that in five days after the agent reached the regent’s camp,[10.10.1] every pass was a post; and a corps of fifteen hundred men, infantry and cavalry, with four guns, was marched to co-operate with General Sir John Malcolm, who had just crossed the Nerbudda with a weak division of the army of the Deccan, and was marching northward, surrounded by numerous foes and doubtful friends. Throughout that brilliant and eventful period in the history of British India, when every province from the Ganges to the ocean was agitated by warlike demonstrations, the camp of the regent was the pivot of operations and the focus of intelligence. The part he acted was decided, manly, and consistent; and if there were moments of vacillation, it was inspired by our own conduct, which created doubts in his mind as to the wisdom of his course. He had seen and felt that the grand principle of politics, expediency, guided all courts and councils, whether Mogul, Mahratta, or British: the disavowal of the alliances formed by Lord Lake, under Marquess Wellesley’s administration, proved this to demonstration, and he was too familiar with the history of our power to give more credit than mere politeness required to our boasted renunciation of the rights of anticipated conquest. A smile would play over the features of the orbless politician when the envoy disclaimed all idea of its being a war of aggrandisement. To all such protestations he would say, “Maharaja, I cannot doubt you believe what you say; but remember what old Zalim tells you; the day is not distant when only one emblem of power (_ekhi sikka_) will be recognized throughout India.” This was in A.D. 1817-18; and the ten years of life since granted to him must have well illustrated the truth of this remark; for although no absolute conquest or incorporation of Rajput territory has taken place, our system of control, and the establishment of our monopoly within these limits (not then dreamed of by ourselves), has already verified in part his prediction. It were indeed idle to suppose that any protestations could have vanquished the arguments present to a mind which had pondered on every page of the history of our power; which had witnessed its development from the battle of Plassey under Clive to Lake’s exploits at the altars of Alexander. He had seen throughout, that the fundamental rule which guides the Rajput prince, ‘obtain land,’ was one both practically and theoretically understood by viceroys from [557] the west, who appeared to act upon the four grand political principles of the Rajput, _sham_, _dan_, _bed_, _dand_; or, persuasion, gifts, stratagem, force; by which, according to their great lawgiver, kingdoms are obtained and maintained, and all mundane affairs conducted. When, therefore, in order to attain our ends, we expatiated upon the disinterestedness of our views, his co-operation was granted less from a belief in our professions, than upon a dispassionate consideration of the benefits which such alliance would confer upon Kotah, and of its utility in maintaining his family in the position it had so long held in that State. He must have balanced the difficulties he had mastered to maintain that power, against the enemies, internal and external, which had threatened it, and he justly feared both would speedily be sacrificed to the incapacity of his successors. To provide a stay to their feebleness was the motive which induced him to throw himself heart and hand into the alliance we sought; and of signal benefit did he prove to the cause he espoused. But if we read aright the workings of a mind, which never betrayed its purpose either to friend or foe, we should find that there was a moment wherein, though he did not swerve from the path he had chalked out, or show any equivocation in respect to the pledge he had given, the same spirit which had guided him to the eminence he had acquired, suggested what he might have done at a conjuncture when all India, save Rajputana, was in arms to overthrow the legions of Britain. All had reason to dread her colossal power, and hatred and revenge actuated our numerous allies to emancipate themselves from a yoke which, whether they were bound by friendship or by fear, was alike galling. If there was one master-mind that could have combined and wielded their resources for our overthrow, it was that of Zalim Singh alone. Whether the aspirations of his ambition, far too vast for its little field of action, soared to this height, or were checked by the trammels of nearly eighty winters, we can only conjecture. Once, and once only, the dubious oracle came forth. It was in the very crisis of operations, when three English divisions were gradually closing upon the grand Pindari horde, under Karim Khan, in the very heart of his dominions, and his troops, his stores, were all placed at our disposal, he heard that one of these divisions had insulted his town of Bara; then, the ideas which appeared to occupy him burst forth in the ejaculation, “that if twenty years could be taken from his life, Delhi and Deccan should be one”; and appeared to point to the hidden thoughts of a man whose tongue never spoke but in parables.

There is also no doubt that his most confidential friends and ministers, who were [558] Mahrattas, were adverse to his leaguing with the English, and for a moment he felt a repugnance to breaking the bond which had so long united him with their policy. He could not but enumerate amongst the arguments for its maintenance, his ability to preserve that independence which fifty years had strengthened, and he saw that, with the power to which he was about to be allied, he had no course but unlimited obedience; in short, that his part must now be subordinate. He preferred it, however, for the security it afforded; and as in the course of nature he must soon resign his trust, there was more hope of his power descending to his posterity than if left to discord and faction. But when hostilities advanced against the freebooters, and the more settled governments of the Peshwa, Bhonsla, Holkar, and Sindhia, determined to shake off our yoke, we could urge to him irresistible arguments for a perfect identity of interests. The envoy had only to hint that the right of conquest would leave the districts he rented from Holkar at our disposal; and that as we wanted no territory in Central India for ourselves, we should not forget our friends at the conclusion of hostilities. If ever there were doubts, they were dissipated by this suggestion; and on the grand horde being broken up, it was discovered that the families of its leaders were concealed in his territory. Through his indirect aid we were enabled to secure them, and at once annihilated the strength of the marauders. For all these important services, the sovereignty of the four districts he rented from Holkar was guaranteed to the regent. The circumstances attending the conveyance of this gift afforded an estimate of Zalim’s determination never to relinquish his authority; for, when the sanad was tendered in his own name, he declined it, desiring the insertion of that of “his master, the Maharao.” At the time, it appeared an act of disinterested magnanimity, but subsequent acts allowed us to form a more correct appreciation of his motives. The campaign concluded, and the noble commander and his enlightened coadjutor[10.10.2] left the seat of war impressed with the conviction of the great services, and the highest respect for the talents, of the veteran politician, while the envoy, who had acted with him during the campaign, was declared the medium of his future political relations.

In March A.D. 1818, profound repose reigned from the Sutlej to the ocean, of which Rajput history presented no example. The magic Runes, by which the north-man could “hush the stormy wave,” could not be more efficacious than the rod of our power in tranquillizing this wide space, which for ages had been the seat of conflict. The _satya_[559] _yuga_, the golden age of the Hindu, alone afforded a parallel to the calm which had succeeded the eras of tumultuous effervescence.

=Death of Mahārāo Ummed Singh. Disputed Succession.=—Thus matters proceeded till November 1819, when the death of the Maharao Ummed Singh engendered new feelings in the claimants to the succession, and placed the regent in a position from which not even his genius might have extricated him, unaided by the power whose alliance he had so timely obtained. And here it becomes requisite to advert to the terms of this alliance. The treaty[10.10.3] was concluded at Delhi, on the 26th of December 1817, by the envoys of the regent, in the name of his lawful sovereign, the Maharao Ummed Singh, ratified by the contracting parties, and the deeds were interchanged at the regent’s court early in January. To this treaty his sovereign’s seal and his own were appended; but no guarantee of the regent’s power was demanded pending the negotiation, nor is he mentioned except in the preamble, and then only as the ministerial agent of the Maharao Ummed Singh, in whose behalf alone the treaty was virtually executed. This excited the surprise of the British representative,[10.10.4] who, in his official dispatch detailing the progress and conclusion of the negotiations, intimated that he not only expected such stipulation, but was prepared for admitting it. There was no inadvertence in this omission; the regent saw no occasion for any guarantee, for the plenary exercise of the powers of sovereign during more than half a century had constituted him, _de facto_, prince of Kotah. Moreover, we may suppose had he felt a desire for such stipulation, that a feeling of pride might have stifled its expression, which by making the choice of ministers dependent on a foreign power would have virtually annulled the independent sovereignty of Kotah. Whatever was the reason of the omission, at a season when his recognition might have had the same formal sanction of all the parties as the other articles of the treaty, it furnished the future opponents of the regent’s power with a strong argument against its maintenance in perpetuity on the death of the Maharao Ummed Singh.

It has been already said that the treaty was concluded at Delhi in December 1817, and interchanged in January 1818. In March of the same year, two supplemental articles were agreed to at Delhi, and transmitted direct to the regent, guaranteeing the administration of affairs to his sons and successors for ever.

Having premised so much, let us give a brief notice of the parties, whose future fate was involved in this policy [560].

The Maharao Ummed Singh had three sons, Kishor Singh, Bishan Singh, and Prithi Singh. The heir-apparent, who bore a name dear to the recollection of the Haras, was then forty years of age. He was mild in his temper and demeanour; but being brought up in habits of seclusion, he was more conversant with the formulas of his religion, and the sacred epics, than with the affairs of mankind. He was no stranger to the annals of his family, and had sufficient pride and feeling to kindle at the recollection of their glory; but the natural bent of his mind, reinforced by education, had well fitted him to follow the path of his father, and to leave himself and his country to be governed as best pleased the Nana Sahib,[10.10.5] the regent.

Bishan Singh was about three years younger; equally placid in disposition, sensible and sedate, and much attached to the regent.

Prithi Singh was under thirty; a noble specimen of a Hara, eager for action in the only career of a Rajput—arms. To him the existing state of things was one of opprobrium and dishonour, and his mind was made up to enfranchize himself and family from the thraldom in which his father had left them, or perish in the attempt. The brothers were attached to each other, and lived in perfect harmony, though suspicions did exist that Bishan Singh’s greater docility and forbearance towards the regent’s son and successor, arose from interested, perhaps traitorous, views. Each of them had estates of twenty-five thousand rupees’ annual rent, which they managed through their agents.

The regent had two sons, the elder, Madho Singh, legitimate; the younger, Gordhandas, illegitimate; but he was regarded with more affection, and endowed with almost equal authority with the declared successor to the regency. Madho Singh was about forty-six at the period we speak of. A physiognomist would discover in his aspect no feature indicative of genius, though he might detect amidst traits which denoted indolence, a supercilious tone of character, the effect of indulgence. This was fostered in a great degree by the late Maharao, who supported the regent’s son against his own in all their dissensions, even from their infancy, which had increased the natural arrogance developed by power being too early entrusted to him: for when the regent, as before related, quitted the capital for the camp, Madho Singh was nominated to the office of Faujdar, the hereditary post of his father, and left as his locum tenens at Kotah. This office, which included the command and pay of all the [561] troops, left unlimited funds at his disposal; and as the checks which restrained every other officer in the State were inoperative upon his sons, who dared to inform against the future regent? Accordingly, he indulged his taste in a manner which engendered dislike to him: his gardens, his horses, his boats, were in a style of extravagance calculated to provoke the envy of the sons of his sovereign; while his suite eclipsed that of the prince himself. In short, he little regarded the prudent counsel of his father, who, in their metaphorical language, used to express his fears “that when he was a hundred years old” (_i.e._ dead), the fabric which cost a life in rearing would fall to pieces.

Gordhandas,[10.10.6] the natural son of the regent, was then about twenty-seven,[10.10.7] quick, lively, intelligent, and daring. His conduct to his sovereign’s family has been precisely the reverse of his brother’s, and in consequence he lived on terms of confidential friendship with them, especially with the heir-apparent and prince, Prithi Singh, whose disposition corresponded with his own. His father, who viewed this child of his old age with perhaps more affection than his elder brother, bestowed upon him the important office of Pardhan, which comprehends the grain-department of the State. It gave him the command of funds, the amount of which endangered the declared succession. The brothers cordially detested each other, and many indignities were cast upon Gordhandas by Madho Singh, such as putting him in the guard, which kindled an irreconcilable rancour between them. Almost the only frailty in the character of the regent was the defective education of his sons: both were left to the indulgence of arrogant pretensions, which ill accorded with the tenor of his own behaviour through life, or the conduct that was demanded of them. Dearly, bitterly has the regent repented this error, which in its consequence has thrown the merits of an active and difficult career into the shade, and made him regret that his power was not to die with him.

Such was the state of parties and politics at Kotah in November 1819, when the death of the Maharao developed views that had long been concealed, and that produced the most deplorable results. The regent was at the Chhaoni, his standing camp at Gagraun, when this event occurred, and he immediately repaired to the capital, to see that the last offices were properly performed, and to proclaim the _an_, or oath of allegiance, and the accession of the Maharao Kishor Singh [562].

The Political Agent received the intelligence[10.10.8] on his march from Marwar to Mewar, and immediately addressed his government on the subject, requesting instructions. Meanwhile, after a few days’ halt at Udaipur, he repaired to Kotah to observe the state of parties, whose animosities and expectations were forebodings of a change which menaced the guaranteed order of things. On his arrival, he found the aged regent, still a stranger to the luxury of a house, encamped a mile beyond the city, with his devoted bands around him; while his son, the heir to his power, continued in his palace in the town. The prince and brothers, as heretofore, resided at the palace in the castle, where they held their coteries, of which Gordhandas and Prithi Singh were the principals, moulding the new Maharao to their will, and from which the second brother, Bishan Singh, was excluded. Although the late prince had hardly ceased to breathe, before the animosities so long existing between the sons of the regent burst forth, and threatened ‘war within the gates’; and although nothing short of the recovery of rights so long in abeyance was determined upon by the prince; yet—and it will hardly be believed—these schemes escaped the vigilance of the regent.

The death of his friend and sovereign, added to care and infirmity, brought on a fit of illness, the result of which was expected to crown the hopes of the parties who were interested in the event; and when, to their surprise and regret, he recovered, the plans of his prince and natural son were matured, and as notorious as the sun at noon to every person of note but the regent himself. He was not, indeed, the first aged ruler, however renowned for wisdom, who had been kept in ignorance of the cabals of his family. It required a prophet to announce to David the usurpation of Adonijah;[10.10.9] and the same cause, which kept David ignorant that his son had supplanted him, concealed from the penetrating eye of Zalim Singh the plot which had for its object that his power should perish with him, and that his son Gordhan should supersede [563] the heir to his hereditary staff of office. Strange as it must appear, the British Agent acted the part of Nathan on this occasion, and had to break the intelligence to the man who had swayed for sixty years, with despotic authority, the destinies of Kotah, that his sons were arming against each other, and that his prince was determined that his wand (_chhari_) of power should (to speak in their metaphorical style) be consumed in the same pyre with himself whenever the ‘decree of Bhagwan’ went forth.

It was then that the supplemental articles, guaranteeing Madho Singh in the succession to the regency, proved a stumbling-block in the path of our mediation between parties, the one called on to renounce that dear-bought power, the other determined to regain what time and accident had wrested from him. Had the emergency occurred while the predatory system was predominant, not a whisper would have been raised; the point in all probability would never have been mooted: it would have been considered as a matter of course, where

Amurath to Amurath succeeds,

that the Maharao Kishor should continue the same puppet in the hands of Madho Singh that his father had been in Zalim’s. This would have excited no surprise, nor would such a proceeding have afforded speculation for one hour. Nay, the usurper might have advanced to the ulterior step; and, like the Frank Maire du Palais, have demanded of the pontiff of Nathdwara, as did Pepin of Pope Zacharias, “whether he who had the power, should not also have the title, of king”;[10.10.10] and the same plenary indulgence would have awaited the first Jhala Raja of Kotah as was granted to the first of the Carlovingian kings! It, therefore, became a matter of astonishment, especially to the unreflecting, whence arose the general sympathy, amounting to enthusiasm, towards this hitherto disregarded family, not only from chief and peasant, within the bounds of Haraoti, and the foreign mercenary army raised and maintained by the regent, but from the neighbouring princes and nobles, who had hitherto looked upon the usurpation in silence.

A short explanation will solve what was then enigmatical, even to those most interested in forming a just opinion. The practice of the moral virtues amongst any portion of civilized society may be uncertain, but there is one invariable estimate or standard of them in theory. The policy of 1817 changed the moral with the political [564] aspect of Rajasthan. If, previous thereto, no voice was raised against usurpation and crime, it was because all hope that their condition could be ameliorated was extinct. But this was to them a _naya samvat_, a ‘new era,’ a day of universal regeneration. Was the sovereign not to look for the restoration of that power which had been guaranteed by treaty—nor the chiefs to claim the restitution of their estates—nor the peasant to hope for the lands now added to the crown domain;—and were not all foreign potentates interested in calling for an example of retributive justice for ministerial usurpation, however mildly exercised towards the prince? With more rational than political argument, they appealed to our high notions of public justice to accomplish these objects. Unhappy position, in which circumstances—nay, paradoxical as it may appear, political gratitude and justice—dictated a contrary course, and marshalled British battalions in line with the retainers of usurpation to combat the lawful sovereign of the country! The case was one of the most difficult that ever beset our policy in the East, which must always to a certain extent be adapted to the condition of those with whom we come in contact; and perhaps, on this occasion, no caution or foresight could have averted the effects of this affiance.

=Effects of the British Treaty.=—There is not a shadow of doubt that the supplemental articles of the treaty of Kotah, which pledged our faith to two parties in a manner which rendered its maintenance towards both an impossibility, produced consequences that shook the confidence of the people of Rajwara in our political rectitude. They established two pageants instead of one, whose co-existence would have been miraculous; still, as a measure ought not to be judged entirely by its results, we shall endeavour to assign the true motive and character of the act.

If these articles were not dictated by good policy; if they cannot be defended on the plea of expediency; if the omission in the original treaty of December could not be supplied in March, without questioning the want of foresight of the framer; he might justify them on the ground that they were a concession to feelings of gratitude for important services, rendered at a moment when the fate of our power in India was involved to an extent unprecedented since its origin. To effect a treaty with the Nestor of Rajwara, was to ensure alliances with the rest of the States, which object was the very essence of Lord Hastings’ policy. Thus, on general views, as well as for particular reasons (for the resources of Kotah were absolutely indispensable), the co-operation of the regent was a measure vitally important. Still it may be urged that as the regent himself, from whatever motive, had allowed [565] the time to go by when necessity might have compelled us to incorporate such an article in the original treaty, was there no other mode of reimbursing these services besides a guarantee which was an apple of discord? The war was at an end; and we might with justice have urged that ‘the State of Kotah,’ with which we had treated, had, in the destruction of all the powers of anarchy and sharing in its spoils, fully reaped the reward of her services. Such an argument would doubtless have been diplomatically just; but we were still revelling in the excitement of unparalleled success, to which Zalim had been no mean contributor, and the future evil was overlooked in the feverish joy of the hour. But if cold expediency may not deem this a sufficient justification, we may find other reasons. When the author of the policy of 1817 had maturely adjusted his plans for the union of all the settled governments in a league against the predatory system, it became necessary to adopt a broad principle with respect to those with whom we had to treat. At such a moment he could not institute a patient investigation into the moral discipline of each State, or demand of those who wielded the power by what tenure they held their authority. It became, therefore, a matter of necessity to recognize those who were the rulers _de facto_, a principle which was publicly promulgated and universally acted upon. Whether we should have been justified in March, when all our wishes had been consummated, in declining a proposal which we would most gladly have submitted to in December, is a question which we shall leave diplomatists to settle,[10.10.11] and proceed to relate the result of the measure.

The counsellors of the new Maharao soon expounded to him the terms of the treaty, and urged him to demand its fulfilment according to its literal interpretation. The politic deference, which the regent had invariably shown to the late prince, was turned skilfully into an offensive weapon against him. They triumphantly appealed to the tenth article of the treaty, “the Maharao, his heirs and successors, shall remain absolute rulers of their country”; and demanded how we could reconcile our subsequent determination to guarantee Madho Singh and his heirs in the enjoyment of power, which made him _de facto_ the prince, and “reduced the _gaddi_ of Kotah to a simple heap of cotton?”—with the fact before our eyes, that the seals of all the contracting parties were to the original treaty, but that of the supplemental articles the late Maharao died in absolute ignorance [566].

All friendly intercourse between the prince and the regent, and consequently with Madho Singh, was soon at an end, and every effort was used whereby the political enfranchisement of the former could be accomplished. The eloquence of angels must have failed to check such hopes, still more to give a contrary interpretation to the simple language of the treaty, to which, with a judicious pertinacity, they confined themselves. It would be useless to detail the various occurrences pending the reference to our Government. The prince would not credit, or affected not to credit, its determination, and founded abundant and not easily-refutable arguments upon its honour and justice. When told that its instructions were, “that no pretensions of the titular Raja can be entertained by us in opposition to our positive engagement with the regent; that he alone was considered as the head of the Kotah State, and the titular Raja no more deemed the ruler of Kotah, than the Raja of Satara the leader of the Mahrattas, or the Great Mogul the emperor of Hindustan,” the Maharao shut his ears against the representation of the Agent, and professed to regard the person who could compare his case to others so little parallel to it, as his enemy. While his brother, Prithi Singh, and Gordhandas formed part of the council of Kishor Singh, it was impossible to expect that he would be brought to resign himself to his destiny; and he was speedily given to understand that the removal of both from his councils was indispensable.

=Outbreak at Kotah.=—But as it was impossible to effect this without escalading the castle, in which operation the prince, in all human probability, might have perished, it was deemed advisable to blockade it and starve them into surrender. When reduced to extremity, the Maharao took the determination of trusting his cause to the country, and placing himself at the head of a band of five hundred horse, chiefly Haras, with the tutelary deity at his saddle-bow, with drums beating and colours flying, he broke through the blockade. Fortunately, no instructions had been given for resistance, and his cavalcade passed on to the southward unmolested. As soon as the movement was reported, the Agent hastened to the regent’s camp, which he found in confusion; and demanded of the veteran what steps he had taken, or meant to take, to prevent the infection spreading. His conduct, at such a crisis, was most embarrassing. Beset by scruples, real or affected, the Agent could only obtain ill-timed if not spurious declarations of loyalty; “that he would cling to his sovereign’s skirts, and _chakari kar_ (serve him); that he would rather retire to Nathdwara, than blacken his face by any treason towards his master.” Rejoiced at the mere hint of a sentiment which afforded the least presage of the only [567] mode of cutting the Gordian knot of our policy, the Agent eagerly replied, “there was no earthly bar to his determination, which he had only to signify”; but abhorring duplicity and cant at such a moment, when action of the most decisive kind was required, and apprehensive of the consequences of five hundred unquiet spirits being thrown loose on a society so lately disorganized, he hastily bid the veteran adieu, and galloped to overtake the prince’s cavalcade. He found it bivouacked at the Rangbari,[10.10.12] a country-seat six miles south of the capital. His followers and their horses, intermingled, were scattered in groups outside the garden-wall; and the prince, his chiefs, and advisers, were in the palace, deliberating on their future operations. There was no time for ceremony; and he reached the assembly before he could be announced. The rules of etiquette and courtesy were not lost even amidst impending strife; though the greeting was short, a warm expostulation with the prince and the chiefs was delivered with rapidity; and the latter were warned that their position placed them in direct enmity to the British Government, and that, without being enabled to benefit their sovereign, they involved themselves in destruction. The courtesy which these brave men had a right to was changed into bitter reproof, as the Agent turned to Gordhandas, whom he styled a traitor to his father, and from whom his prince could expect no good, guided as he was solely by interested motives, and warned him that punishment of no common kind awaited him. His hand was on his sword in an instant; but the action being met by a smile of contempt, and his insolent replies passing unheeded, the Agent, turning to the prince, implored him to reflect before the door would be closed to accommodation; pledging himself, at the same time, to everything that reason and his position could demand, except the surrender of the power of the regent, which our public faith compelled us to maintain; and that the prince’s dignity, comforts, and happiness, should be sedulously consulted. While he was wavering, the Agent called aloud, “The prince’s horse!” and taking his arm, Kishor Singh suffered himself to be led to it, observing as he mounted, “I rely implicitly on your friendship.” His brother, Prithi Singh, spoke; the chiefs maintained silence; and the impetuosity of Gordhan and one or two of the coterie was unheeded. The Agent rode side by side with the prince, surrounded by his bands, in perfect silence, and in this way they re-entered the castle, nor did the Agent quit him till he replaced him on his _gaddi_, when he reiterated his expressions of desire for his welfare, but urged the necessity of his adapting his conduct to the imperious circumstances of his position; and intimated that both his brother and Gordhandas must be removed from his person, the latter altogether from [568] Haraoti. This was in the middle of May; and in June, after the public deportation of Gordhandas as a state-criminal to Delhi, and ample provision being made for the prince and every member of his family, a public reconciliation took place between him and the regent.

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

=Re-installation of Kishor Singh.=—This much-desired reconciliation was followed on the 8th of Sawan, or 17th August A.D. 1820, by the solemnities of a public installation of the Maharao on the _gaddi_ of his ancestors: a pageantry which smoothed all asperities for the time, and, in giving scope to the munificence of the regent, afforded to the mass, who judge only by the surface of things, a theme for approbation. We leave for another place[10.10.13] the details of this spectacle; merely observing that the representative of the British Government was the first (following the priest) to make the _tika_, or unction of sovereignty[10.10.14] on the forehead of the prince; and having tied on the jewels, consisting of aigrette, necklace, and bracelets, he girded on, amidst salutes of ordnance, the sword of investiture. The Maharao, with an appropriate speech, presented one hundred and one gold mohurs, as the _nazar_ or fine of relief, professing his homage to the British Government. At the same time, a khilat, or dress of honour, was presented, in the name of the Governor-General of India, to the regent, for which he made a suitable acknowledgment, and a _nazar_ of twenty-five gold mohurs.

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

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

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

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

Footnote 10.10.1:

The Author of those annals, then Assistant Resident at Sindhia’s court, was deputed by Lord Hastings to the Raj Rana Zalim Singh. He left the residency at Gwalior on the 12th November 1817, and reached the regent’s camp at Rauta, about twenty-five miles S.S.E. of Kotah, on the 23rd.

Footnote 10.10.2:

I allude to Mr. Adam, who divided with the noble Marquess the entire merits of that ever memorable period. [John Adam, political secretary to the Marquess of Hastings (1779-1825) (C. E. Buckland, _Dict. Indian Biography_ _s.v._).]

Footnote 10.10.3:

Copy of this is inserted in Appendix, No. VI., p. 1833.

Footnote 10.10.4:

C. T. Metcalfe, Esq., then resident at Delhi, now Sir C. T. Metcalfe, Bart., member of council in Bengal. [Sir Charles Metcalfe (1785-1846): Resident at Delhi; Lieutenant-Governor North-western Provinces (1836-38); Governor of Jamaica (1839-42); Governor-General of Canada (1843-45); raised to the peerage 1845; died 5th September 1846 (Buckland, _op. cit._ _s.v._; _Life and Correspondence_ by Sir J. W. Kaye, 1854).]

Footnote 10.10.5:

This was the parental epithet always applied to the regent by Ummed Singh and his sons, who it will be remembered mingled some of the Jhala blood in their veins. Nāna-sāhib, ‘sir grandsire.’

Footnote 10.10.6:

_Anglicé_, ‘the slave of Gordhan,’ one of the names of Krishna, the tutelary divinity of the regent.

Footnote 10.10.7:

Let me again remind the reader that this was written in 1820-21; for many reasons, the phraseology and chronology of the original MS. are retained.

Footnote 10.10.8:

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

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

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

Footnote 10.10.9:

“Nathan spake unto Bathsheba, 'hast thou not heard that Adonijah, the son of Haggith, doth reign, and David our Lord knoweth it not?'” [1 Kings i. 11.]

Footnote 10.10.10:

Such was the question propounded, and answered as Pepin expected, regarding the deposal of Childeric III., the last of the Merovingian race. [Pope Zacharias (A.D. 741-52), by whose sanction Boniface crowned Pippin King of the Franks at Soissons.]

Footnote 10.10.11:

The overture for these supplementary articles, in all probability, originated not with the regent, but with the son. Had the Author (who was then the medium of the political relations with Kotah) been consulted regarding their tendency, he was as well aware then as now, what he ought to have advised. Whether his feelings, alike excited by the grand work in which he bore no mean part, would have also clouded his judgment, it were useless to discuss. It is sufficient, in all the spirit of candour, to suggest such reasons as may have led to a measure, the consequences of which have been so deeply lamented.

Footnote 10.10.12:

['The Garden of Enjoyment.']

Footnote 10.10.13:

The details of this ceremony will be given in the Personal Narrative.

Footnote 10.10.14:

‘Anointing’ appears to have been, in all ages, the mode of installation. The unguent on this occasion is of sandalwood and _itr_ of roses made into a paste, or very thick ointment, of which a little is placed upon the forehead with the middle finger of the right hand.