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.

=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.

* * * * *

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.

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].

=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.

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.”

=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).”

=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).]