CHAPTER 29
Mahādaji Sindhia, A.D. 1759-94. Battle of Lālsot, A.D. 1787.
Battle of Pātan, June 20, 1790.
Ūdhalti Amber né rākhi Rāthorān.
“The Rathors guarded the petticoats of Amber.”[[5]]
This stanza was retained in recollection at the battle of Patan; and if universal [761] affirmation may be received as proof, it was the cause of its loss, and with it that of Rajput independence. National pride was humbled: a private agreement was entered into between the Mahrattas and Jaipurians, whereby the latter, on condition of keeping aloof during the fight, were to have their country secured from devastation. As usual, the Rathors charged up to the muzzles of De Boigne’s cannon, sweeping all before them: but receiving no support, they were torn piecemeal by showers of grape and compelled to abandon the field. Then, it is recorded, the brave Rathor showed the difference between fighting on parbhum, or ‘foreign land,’ and on his own native soil. Even the women, it is averred, plundered them of their horses on this disastrous day; so heart-broken had the traitorous conduct of their allies rendered them. The Jaipurians paid dearly for their revenge, and for the couplet which recorded it:
Ghoro, joro, pagri,
Mūcham Khag Mārwār,
Pānch rakam mel līdha
Pātan men Rāthor.[[6]]
Verbatim:
“Horse, shoes, turban,
Mustachio, sword [of] Marwar,
Five things surrendered were
At Patan by the Rathor.”
Both these “ribald strains” are still the taunt of either race: by such base agencies are thrones overturned, and heroism rendered abortive!
When the fatal result of the battle of Patan was communicated to Raja Bijai Singh, he called a council of all his nobles, at which the independent branches of his family, the Rajas of Bikaner, Kishangarh, and Rupnagarh, assisted, for the cause was a common one. The Raja gave it as his own opinion, that it was better to fulfil the terms of the former treaty, on the murder of Jai Apa, acknowledge the cancelled tribute, and restore Ajmer, which they had recovered by a coup de main. His valorous chieftains opposed the degrading suggestion, and unanimously recommended that they should again try the chances of war ere they signed their humiliation. Their resolution swayed the prince, who issued his summons to every Rathor in his dominions to assemble under their Raja’s banner, once more planted on the ensanguined plains of Merta. A fine army was embodied; not a Rathor who could wield a sword but brought it for service in the cause of his country; and full thirty thousand men assembled on the 10th September 1790, determined to efface the recollections of Patan [762].
Battle of Merta, September 1790 A.D.
Bhimraj Singwi received at Nagor, whither he had fled, a letter of accusation from his sovereign, on which he swallowed poison; but although he was indirectly the cause of the defeat, by his supineness, and subsequent disgraceful flight, it was the minister at the capital whose treason prevented the destruction of the Mahrattas: Khub Chand was jealous of Bhimraj; he dreaded being supplanted by him if he returned from Merta crowned with success; and he therefore penned the dispatch which paralysed their energies, enjoining them to await the junction of Ismail Beg [765].
Thus, owing to a scurrilous couplet of a bard, and to the jealousy of a contemptible court-faction, did the valiant Rathors lose their independence—if it can be called lost—since each of these brave men still deems himself a host, when “his hour should come” to play the hero. Their spirit is not one jot diminished since the days of Tonga and Merta.[[8]]
British Policy towards the Rajputs.
Jharāu.
The Mirage.—We had a magnificent mirage this morning: nor do I ever recollect observing this singularly grand phenomenon on a more extensive scale, or with greater variety of form. The morning was desperately cold; the thermometer, as I mounted my horse, a little after sunrise, stood at 32°, the freezing-point, with a sharp biting wind from the north-east. The ground was blanched with frost, and the water-skins, or bihishtis mashaks, were covered with ice at the mouth. The slender shrubs, especially the milky ak, were completely burnt up; and as the weather had been hitherto mild, the transition was severely felt, by things animate and inanimate [767].
It is only in the cold season that the mirage is visible; the sojourners of Maru call it the siya-kot, or ‘castles in the air.’[[11]] In the deep desert to the westward, the herdsmen and travellers through these regions style it chitram, ‘the picture’; while about the plains of the Chambal and Jumna they term it disasul, ‘the omen of the quarter.’ This optical deception has been noticed from the remotest times. The prophet Isaiah alludes to it when he says, “and the parched ground shall become a pool”;[[12]] which the critic has justly rendered, “and the shārābh[[13]] shall become real water.” Quintus Curtius, describing the mirage in the Sogdian desert, says that “for the space of four hundred furlongs not a drop of water is to be found, and the sun’s heat, being very vehement in summer, kindles such a fire in the sands, that everything is burnt up. There also arises such an exhalation, that the plains wear the appearance of a vast and deep sea”; which is an exact description of the chitram of the Indian desert. But the shārābh and chitram, the true mirage of Isaiah, differ from that illusion called the siya-kot; and though the traveller will hasten to it, in order to obtain a night’s lodging, I do not think he would expect to slake his thirst there.
When we witnessed this phenomenon at first, the eye was attracted by a lofty opaque wall of lurid smoke, which seemed to be bounded by, or to rise from, the very verge of the horizon. By slow degrees the dense mass became more transparent, and assumed a reflecting or refracting power: shrubs were magnified into trees; the dwarf khair appeared ten times larger than the gigantic amli of the forest. A ray of light suddenly broke the line of continuity of this yet smoky barrier; and, as if touched by the enchanter’s wand, castles, towers, and trees were seen in an aggregated cluster, partly obscured by magnificent foliage. Every accession of light produced a change in the chitram, which from the dense wall that it first exhibited had now faded into a thin transparent film, broken into a thousand masses, each mass being a huge lens; until at length the [768] too vivid power of the sun dissolved the vision: castles, towers, and foliage melted, like the enchantment of Prospero, into “thin air.”
I had long imagined that the nature of the soil had some effect in producing this illusory phenomenon; especially as the chitram of the desert is seen chiefly on those extensive plains productive of the sajji, or alkaline plant, whence by incineration the natives produce soda,[[14]] and whose base is now known to be metallic. But I have since observed it on every kind of soil. That these lands, covered with saline incrustations, tend to increase the effect of the illusion, may be concluded.[[15]] But the difference between the sarāb or chitram, and the siya-kot or disasul is, that the latter is never visible but in the cold season, when the gross vapours cannot rise; and that the rarefaction, which gives existence to the other, destroys this, whenever the sun has attained 20° of elevation. A high wind is alike adverse to the phenomenon, and it will mostly be observed that it covets shelter, and its general appearance is a long line which is sure to be sustained by some height, such as a grove or village, as if it required support. The first time I observed it was in the Jaipur country; none of the party had ever witnessed it in the British provinces. It appeared like an immense walled town with bastions, nor could we give credit to our guides, when they talked of the siya-kot, and assured us that the objects were merely “castles in the air.” I have since seen, though but once, this panoramic scene in motion, and nothing can be imagined more beautiful.
It was at Kotah, just as the sun rose, whilst walking on the terraced roof of the garden-house, my residence. As I looked towards the low range which bounds the sight to the south-east, the hills appeared in motion, sweeping with an undulating or rotatory movement along the horizon. Trees and buildings were magnified, and all seemed a kind of enchantment. Some minutes elapsed before I could account for this wonder; until I determined that it must be the masses of a floating mirage, which had attained its most attenuated form, and being carried by a gentle current of air past the tops and sides of the hills, while it was itself imperceptible, made them appear in motion.
But although this was novel and pleasing, it wanted the splendour of the scene of this morning, which I never saw equalled but once. This occurred at Hissar, where I went to visit a beloved friend—gone, alas! to a better world [769],—whose ardent and honourable mind urged me to the task I have undertaken. It was on the terrace of James Lumsdaine’s house, built amidst the ruins of the castle of Firoz, in the centre of one extended waste, where the lion was the sole inhabitant, that I saw the most perfect specimen of this phenomenon: it was really sublime. Let the reader fancy himself in the midst of a desert plain, with nothing to impede the wide scope of vision, his horizon bounded by a lofty black wall encompassing him on all sides. Let him watch the first sunbeam break upon this barrier, and at once, as by a touch of magic, shiver it into a thousand fantastic forms, leaving a splintered pinnacle in one place, a tower in another, an arch in a third; these in turn undergoing more than kaleidoscopic changes, until the “fairy fabric” vanishes. Here it was emphatically called Harchand Raja ki puri, or ‘the city of Raja Harchand,’ a celebrated prince of the brazen age of India.[[16]] The power of reflection shown by this phenomenon cannot be better described than by stating that it brought the very ancient Agroha,[[17]] which is thirteen miles distant, with its fort and bastions, close to my view.
The difference then between the mirage and the siya-kot is, that the former exhibits a horizontal, the latter a columnar or vertical stratification; and in the latter case, likewise, a contrast to the other, its maximum of translucency is the last stage of its existence. In this stage, it is only an eye accustomed to the phenomenon that can perceive it at all. I have passed over the plains of Meerut with a friend who had been thirty years in India, and he did not observe a siya-kot then before our eyes: in fact so complete was the illusion, that we only saw the town and fort considerably nearer. Monge gives a philosophical account of this phenomenon in Napoleon’s campaign in Egypt; and Dr. Clarke perfectly describes it in his journey to Rosetta, when “domes, turrets, and groves were seen reflected on the glowing surface of the plain, which appeared like a vast lake extending itself between the city and travellers.” It is on reviewing this account that a critic has corrected the erroneous translation of the Septuagint; and further dilated upon it in a review of Lichtenstein’s travels in Southern Africa,[[18]] who exactly describes our siya-kot, of the magnifying and reflecting powers of which he gives a [770] singular instance. Indeed, whoever notices, while at sea, the atmospheric phenomena of these southern latitudes, will be struck by the deformity of objects as they pass through this medium: what the sailors term a fog-bank is the first stage of our siya-kot. I observed it on my voyage home; but more especially in the passage out. About six o’clock on a dark evening, while we were dancing on the waste, I perceived a ship bearing down with full sail upon us so distinctly, that I gave the alarm, in expectation of a collision; so far as I recollect, the helm was instantly up, and in a second no ship was to be seen. The laugh was against me—I had seen the “flying Dutchman,”[[19]] according to the opinion of the experienced officer on deck; and I believed it was really a vision of the mind: but I now feel convinced it was either the reflection of our own ship in a passing cloud of this vapour, or a more distant object therein refracted. But enough of this subject: I will only add, whoever has a desire to see one of the grandest phenomena in nature, let him repair to the plains of Merta or Hissar, and watch before the sun rises the fairy palace of Harchand, infinitely grander and more imposing than a sunrise upon the alpine Helvetia, which alone may compete with the chitram of the desert.
Cenotaph of a Thākur.
Water from wells is about thirty-five cubits from the surface; the strata as follows: four cubits of mixed sand and black earth; five of kankar, or calcareous concretions; twenty of stiff clay and sand; six of indurated clay, with particles of quartz and mica [771].
Alniawās.
Between Rian and Alniawas we crossed a stream, to which the name of the Luni[[22]] is also given, as well as to that we passed subsequently. It was here that De Boigne’s guns are said to have stuck fast.
The soundings of the wells at Rian and Alniawas presented the same results as [772] at Jharau, with the important exception that the substratum was steatite, which was so universal in the first part of my journey from Jodhpur.
Alniawas is also a fief of a Mertia vassal. It is a considerable town, populous, and apparently in easy circumstances. Here again I observed a trait of devotion, recorded on an altar “to the memory of Suni Mall,” who fell when his clan was exterminated in the charge against the rival Champawats, at Merta, in the civil wars.
Govindgarh.
Fox-hunting: Hyaenas.
We crossed a stream half a mile west of Govindgarh, called the Sagarmati [773], which, with another, the Sarasvati, joining it, issues from the Pushkar lake. The Sagarmati is also called the Luni; its bed is full of micaceous quartzose rock. The banks are low, and little above the level of the country. Though water is found at a depth of twelve cubits from the surface, the wells are all excavated to the depth of forty, as a precautionary measure against dry seasons. The stratification here was—one cubit sand; three of sand and soil mixed; fifteen to twenty of yellow clayish sand; four of morar, and fifteen of steatite and calcareous concretions, with loose sand, mixed with particles of quartz.
Pushkar Lake.
Pushkar is the most sacred lake in India; that of Mansarovar in Tibet may alone compete with it in this respect. It is placed in the centre of the valley, which here becomes wider, and affords abundant space for the numerous shrines and cenotaphs with which the hopes and fears of the virtuous and the wicked amongst the magnates of India have studded its margin. It is surrounded by sand-hills of considerable magnitude, excepting on the east, where a swamp extends to the very base of the mountains. The form of the lake may be called an irregular ellipse. Around its margin, except towards the marshy outlet, is a display of [774] varied architecture. Every Hindu family of rank has its niche here, for the purposes of devotional pursuits when they could abstract themselves from mundane affairs. The most conspicuous are those erected by Raja Man of Jaipur, Ahalya Bai, the Holkar queen, Jawahir Mall of Bharatpur, and Bijai Singh of Marwar. The cenotaphs are also numerous. The ashes of Jai Apa, who was assassinated at Nagor, are superbly covered; as are those of his brother Santaji, who was killed during the siege of that place.
The Brahma Temple.
THE SACRED LAKE OF PUSHKAR IN MARWĀR.
To face page 892.
The name of Bisaladeva, the famed Chauhan king of Ajmer, is the most conspicuous here; and they still point out the residence of his great ancestor, Ajaipal, on the Nagpahar, or ‘serpent-rock,’ directly south of the lake, where the remains of the fortress of the Pali or Shepherd-king are yet visible. Ajaipal was, as his name implies, a goatherd, whose piety, in supplying one of the saints of Pushkar with daily libations of goats’ milk, procured him a territory. Satisfied, however, with the scene of his early days, he commenced his castle on the serpent-mount; but his evil genius knocking down in the night what he erected in the day, he sought out another site on the opposite side of the range: hence arose the far-famed Ajamer.[[24]] Manika Rae is the most conspicuous connecting link of the Chauhan Pali kings, from the goatherd founder to the famed Bisaladeva.[[25]] Manika was slain in the first century of the Hijra, when “the arms of Walid conquered to the Ganges”; and Bisaladeva headed a confederacy of the Hindu kings, and chased the descendants of Mahmud from Hindustan, the origin of the recording column at Delhi. Bisaladeva, it appears from inscriptions, was the contemporary of Rawal Tejsi, the monarch of Chitor, and grandfather of the Ulysses of Rajasthan, the brave Samarsi, who fell with 13,000 of his kindred in aid of the last Chauhan Prithiraj, who, according to the genealogies of this race, is the fourth in descent from Bisaladeva. If this is not sufficient proof of the era of this king, be it known that Udayaditya, the prince of the Pramaras (the period of [776] whose death, or A.D. 1096, has now become a datum),[[26]] is enumerated amongst the sovereigns who serve under the banners of the Chauhan of Ajmer.
Bhartrihari.
St. George’s banner waved on a sand-hill in front of the cross on Brahma’s temple, from which my camp was separated by the lake; but though there was no defect of legendary lore to amuse us, we longed to quit “the region of death,” and hie back to our own lakes, our cutter, and our gardens.
Ajmer.—December 2.—Ajmer, three coss. Proceeded up the valley, where lofty barriers on either side, covered with the milky thor (cactus),[[27]] and the “yellow anwla of the border,” showed they were but the prolongation of our own Aravalli. Granite appeared of every hue, but of a stratification so irregular as to bid defiance to the geologist. The higher we ascended the valley, the loftier became the sand-hills, which appeared to aspire to the altitude of their granitic neighbours. A small rill poured down the valley; there came also a cold blast from the north, which made our fingers tingle. Suddenly we changed our direction from north to east, and ascending the mountain, surveyed through a gap in the range the far-famed Daru-I-Khair. The view which thus suddenly burst upon us was magnificent. A noble plain, with trees, and the expansive lake of Bisaladeva, lay at our feet, while ‘the fortress of the goatherd’ crowned the crest of a majestic isolated hill. The point of descent affords a fine field for the mineralogist; on [777] each side, high over the pass, rise peaks of reddish granite, which are discovered half-way down the descent to be reposing on a blue micaceous slate, whose inclination is westward, at an angle of about 25° with the horizon. The formation is the same to the southward, but the slate there is more compact, and freer from mica and quartz. I picked up a fragment of black marble; its crystals were large and brilliant.
Passed through the city of Ajmer, which, though long a regal abode, does not display that magnificence we might have expected, and, like all other towns of India, exhibits poverty and ease in juxtaposition. It was gratifying to find that the finest part was rising, under the auspices of the British Government and the superintendent of the province, Mr. Wilder. The main street, when finished, will well answer the purpose intended—a place of traffic for the sons of commerce of Rajasthan, who, in a body, did me the honour of a visit: they were contented and happy at the protection they enjoyed in their commercial pursuits. With the prosperity of Bhilwara, that of Ajmer is materially connected; and having no interests which can clash, each town views the welfare of the other as its own: a sentiment which we do not fail to encourage.[encourage.]
Breakfasted with Mr. Wilder,[[28]] and consulted how we could best promote our favourite objects—the prosperity of Ajmer and Bhilwara [778].
[1]. [Mādho Singh, A.D. 1760-78: Prithi Singh II. was succeeded within a year by Partāp Singh, 1778-1803.]
[2].
Pat rakhi Partāp ki
No koti ka nāth.
Gunha agla bagasnē
Abē pakriyo hāth.
“The lord of the nine castles preserved the honour of Partāp. He forgave former offences, and again took him by the hand.” [In the third line Major Luard’s Pandit reads bakhas di, ‘forgave.’]
[3]. “A la gauche la cavalerie rhatore, au nombre de dix mille hommes, fondit sur les bataillons de M. de Boigne malgré le feu des batteries placées en avant de la ligne. Les pièces bien servies opéraient avec succès; mais les Rhatores, avec le courage opiniâtre qui les caractérise, s’acharnaient à poursuivre l’action, et venaient tuer les artilleurs jusques sur leurs pièces. Alors, les bataillons s’avancèrent, et les Rhatores, qui avaient perdu beaucoup de monde, commencèrent à s’ébranler. M. de Boigne, les voyant se retirer en désordre, réclama l’aide du centre; mais les prières et les menaces furent également inutiles: les vingt-cinq bataillons mogols, restés inactifs pendant toute la journée, et simples spectateurs du combat, demeurèrent encore immobiles dans ce moment décisif. Les deux armées se retirèrent après cette action sanglante, qui n’eut aucun résultat.”
[4]. [There is some doubt about the exact date. Grant Duff (Hist. Mahrattas, 497) fixes it on June 20, 1790. See Erskine’s note (iii. A. 68), which is followed in the margin. For the battle see Compton, Military Adventurers, 51 ff.]
[5]. [The translation in the text seems to be wrong. The best authorities translate: “But for the Rāthors Amber would have run away.”]
[6]. [In this version the first and third lines do not scan. According to Dr. Tessitori, a better text runs:
Ghoro, joro, pāgri,
Mūcham tāni maror,
Yān pānchām gun agli,
Rājpūti Rāthor.
[7]. [See the graphic account in Keene, Fall of the Mogul Empire, 205 f.]
[8]. Three years ago I passed two delightful days with the conqueror of the Rajputs, in his native vale of Chambéry. It was against the croix blanche of Savoy, not the orange flag of the Southron, that four thousand Rajputs fell martyrs to liberty; and although I wish the Comte long life, I may regret he had lived to bring his talents and his courage to their subjugation. He did them ample justice, and when I talked of the field of Merta, the remembrance of past days flitted before him, as he said “all appeared as a dream.” Distinguished by his prince, beloved by a numerous and amiable family, and honoured by his fellow-citizens, the years of the veteran, now numbering more than fourscore, glide in agreeable tranquillity in his native city, which, with oriental magnificence, he is beautifying by an entire new street and a handsome dwelling for himself. By a singular coincidence, just as I am writing this portion of my narrative I am put in possession of a Mémoire of his life, lately published, written under the eye of his son, the Comte Charles de Boigne. From this I extract his account of the battle of Merta. It is not to be supposed that he could then have been acquainted with the secret intrigues which were arrayed in favour of the “white cross” on this fatal day.
“Les forces des Rajepoutes se composaient de trente mille cavaliers, de vingt mille hommes d’infanterie régulière, et de vingt-cinq pièces de canon. Les Marhattes avaient une cavalerie égale en nombre à celle de l’ennemi, mais leur infanterie se bornait aux bataillons de M. de Boigne, soutenus, il est vrai, par quatre-vingts pièces d’artillerie. Le général examina la position de l’ennemi, il étudia le terrain et arrêta son plan de bataille.
“Le dix, avant le jour, la brigade reçut l’ordre de marcher en avant, et elle surprit les Rajepoutes pendant qu’ils faisoient leurs ablutions du matin. Les premiers bataillons, avec cinquante pièces de canon tirant à mitraille, enfoncèrent les lignes de l’ennemi et enlevèrent ses positions. Rohan, qui commandait l’aile droite, à la vue de ce premier avantage, sans avoir reçu aucun ordre, eut l’imprudence de s’avancer hors de la ligne du combat, à la tête de trois bataillons. La cavalerie Rathore profitant de cette faute, fondit à l’instant sur lui et faillit lui couper sa retraite sur le gros de l’armée, qu’il ne parvint à rejoindre qu’avec les plus grandes difficultés. Toute la cavalerie ennemie se mit alors en mouvement, et se jetant avec impétuosité sur la brigade, l’attaqua sur tous les côtés à la fois. Elle eût été infailliblement exterminée sans la présence d’esprit de son chef. M. de Boigne, s’étant aperçu de l’erreur commise par son aile droite et prévoyant les suites qu’elle pouvait entraîner, avait disposé sur-le-champ son infanterie en carré vide (hollow square); et par cette disposition, présentant partout un front à l’ennemi, elle opposa une résistance invincible aux charges furieuses des Rathores, qui furent enfin forcés de lâcher prise. Aussitôt l’infanterie reprit ses positions, et s’avançant avec son artillerie, elle fit une attaque générale sur toute la ligne des Rajepoutes. Déjà sur les neuf heures, l’ennemi était complètement battu; une heure après, les Marhattes prirent possession de son camp avec tous ses canons et bagages; et pour couronner cette journée, à trois heures après midi la ville de Mirtah fut prise d’assaut” (Mémoire sur la carrière militaire et politique de M. le Général Comte De Boigne, Chambéry, 1829).
[9]. [‘Seal,’ ‘coinage.’]
[10]. Phūt is a species of pumpkin, or melon, which bursts and flies into pieces when ripe. [Cucumis mormodica, Watt, Comm. Prod. 438 f.] It also means disunion; and Zalim Singh, who always spoke in parables, compared the States of India to this fruit.
[11]. Literally, ‘the cold-weather castles.’
[12]. Isaiah xxxv. 7.
[13]. Sahra is ‘desert’; Arabic sarāb, Hebrew shārābh, ‘the water of the desert,’ a term which the inhabitants of the Arabian and Persian deserts apply to this optical phenomenon. The 18th verse, chap. xli. of Isaiah is closer to the critic’s version: “I will make the wilderness (sahra) a pool of water.“ Doubtless the translators of Holy Writ, ignorant that this phenomenon was called shārābh, ‘water of the waste,’ deemed it a tautological error; for translated literally, “and the water of the desert shall become real water,” would be nonsense: they therefore lopped off the āb, water, and read sahra instead of shārābh, whereby the whole force and beauty of the prophecy is not merely diminished, but lost. [The Author is mistaken, the words shārābh and sahra having no connexion. See Encyclopaedia Biblica, i. 1077. The mirage in Sanskrit is called mrigatrish, ‘deer’s thirst.’ Another name is Gandharvapura, ‘city of the heavenly choristers.’[choristers.’]]
[14]. Properly a carbonate of soda [barilla, Watt, Econ. Prod. 112 f.].
[15]. [Mirage is due to variations in the refractive index of the atmosphere, caused by sporadic variations of temperature (EB, 11th ed. xviii. 573).]
[16]. [For the tale of the sufferings of the righteous Harischandra see J. Muir, Original Sanskrit Texts, i. 88 ff.; Dowson, Classical Dict. s.v. For the mirage city compare “The City of Brass” (Burton, Arabian Nights, iii. 295).]
[17]. This is in the ancient province of Hariana, and the cradle of the Agarwal race, now mercantile, and all followers of Hari or Vishnu. It might have been the capital of Aggrames, whose immense army threatened Alexander; with Agra it may divide the honour, or both may have been founded by this prince, who was also a Porus, being of Puru’s race. [For Xandrames or Aggrames see Smith, EHI, 40; McCrindle, Alexander, 409. His capital is supposed to have been Pātaliputra, the modern Patna.]
[18]. See Edinburgh Review, vol. xxi. pp. 66 and 138.
[19]. This phenomenon is not uncommon; and the superstitious sailor believes it to be the spectre of a Dutch pirate, doomed, as a warning and punishment, to migrate about these seas.
[20]. [Jhāl, Salvadora persica.]
[21]. A second inscription recorded a similar end of Sewa, the Baori, who fell in another inroad of the Mers, in S. 1831.
[22]. I must deprecate criticism in respect to many of my geographical details. I find I have omitted this branch; but my health totally incapacitated me from reconstructing my map, which has been composed by the engraver from my disjointed materials. It is well known to all practical surveyors and geographers that none can do this properly but their author, who knows the precise value of each portion. [It is the main stream of the Lūni river.]
[23]. [At least three other temples of Brahma are known: at Khed Brahma in Mahikāntha (BG, v. 437 f.); Cebrolu and Māla in S. India (Oppert, Original Inhabitants of Bharatavarsa, 288 ff.). The Author mentions one at Chitor (Vol. I. p. [322]).]
[24]. [“The name probably suggested the myth [that he was a goatherd, Ajapāla = ‘goatherd’], and it is more reasonable to suppose that the appellation was given to him when, at the close of his life, he became a hermit, and ended his days at the gorge in the hills about ten miles from Ajmer, which is still venerated as the shrine of Ajaipāl. It has been shown, however, by more recent research that Aja or Ajāya flourished about A.D. 1000, and that the foundation of Ajmer must be attributed to this period” (Watson, Gazetteer, i. A. 9).]
[25]. Classically, Visaladeva. [Cunningham remarks that the date of Manik Rāē is fixed by a memorial verse in Sambat 741 or 747, but of what era is uncertain. Tod adopts the Vikrama era, and fixes his date twenty years before the invasion of Muhammad bin Kāsim, A.D. 712. He seems to have reigned in the beginning of the ninth century (ASR, ii. 253). Visaladeva lived in the middle of the twelfth century (Smith, EHI, 386). Tej Singh is mentioned in inscriptions A.D. 1260-67 (Erskine ii. B. 10).]
[26]. See Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society, vol. i. p. 223.
[27]. [Euphorbia neriifolia.]
[28]. [Mr. Wilder was in charge of Ajmer, 1818-24.]