CHAPTER 11
Banishment of Gordhandās.
About the close of 1821, permission was imprudently granted to the exile to visit Malwa, to fulfil a marriage-contract with an illegitimate daughter of the chieftain of Jhabua.[[1]] Scarcely had he set his foot in that town, when symptoms of impatience, in lieu of perfect tranquillity, began to be visible at Kotah, and a correspondence both there and at Bundi was hardly detected, before a spirit of revolt was reported to have infected the tried veterans of the regent. Saif Ali, the commander of the ‘Royals’ (Raj Paltan), an officer of thirty years’ standing, distinguished for his zeal, fidelity, and gallantry, was named as having been gained over to the cause of his nominal sovereign. This was looked upon as a slander; but too wise entirely to disregard it, the regent interposed a force between the disaffected battalion and the castle, which brought the matter to issue. The Maharao immediately proceeded by water, and conveyed Saif Ali and a part of his battalion to the palace; which was no sooner reported, than the blind regent put himself into his litter, and headed a force with which he attacked the remainder, while two twenty-four pounders, mounted on a cavalier, which commanded not only every portion of the city, but the country on both sides the Chambal, played upon the castle. In the midst of this firing (probably unexpected), the Maharao, his brother Prithi Singh, and their adherents, took to boat, crossed the river, and retired to Bundi, while the remainder of the mutinous ‘Royals’ laid down their arms. By this energetic conduct, the new attempt upon his power was dissolved as soon as formed, and the gaddi of the Haras was abandoned. Bishan Singh escaped from his brothers in the midst of the fray, and joined the regent, whose views regarding him, in this crisis, however indirectly manifested, could not be mistaken; but our system of making and unmaking kings in these distant regions, though it may have enlarged our power, had not added to our reputation; and the Agent had the most rooted repugnance to sanction the system in the new range of our alliances, however it might have tended to allay the discord [572] which prevailed, or to free the paramount power from the embarrassment in which its diplomatic relations had placed it, and from whence there was no escape without incurring the too just reproach of violating the conditions we had imposed. Common decency forbade our urging the only plea we could in forming the treaty, namely, our considering the prince as a mere phantom; and if we had been bold enough to do so, the reply would have been the same: “Why did you treat with a phantom?” while he would have persisted in the literal interpretation of the bond.
British Intervention.
The Mahārāo marches on Kotah.
The tried troops of the regent could not be depended on; he confessed it; and in this confession, what an evidence is afforded of the nature of his rule, and of the homage to immutable justice in all parts of the world! Every corps, foreign or indigenous, was ready to range on the side of legitimate authority against the hand which had fed and cherished them. So completely did this feeling pervade every part of the political fabric, that the regent himself said, in his forcible manner, on his escape from the danger, “even the clothes on his back smelt of treason to him.” It was hoped that “the wisdom which called aloud (even) in the streets” would not be disregarded by the veteran; that disgust at such marks of perfidy would make him spurn from him the odium of usurpation, and thus free the paramount power from a situation the most painful and embarrassing. Abundant opportunities were afforded, and hints were given that he alone could cut the knot, which otherwise must be severed [575] by the sword. But all was fruitless: “he stood upon his bond,” and the execution of the treaty. The Maharao, his nominal sovereign, took the same ground, and even sent a copy of the treaty to the Agent, tauntingly asking whether it was to be recognized or not. All this embarrassment would have been avoided, had the supplemental articles been embodied in the original treaty; then the literal interpretation and its spirit would not have been at variance, nor have afforded a pretext to reproach the paramount power with a breach of faith and justice: charges which cannot in fact be supported, inasmuch as the same contracting parties, who executed the original document, amended it by this supplemental deed. The dispute then resolves itself into a question of expediency, already touched on, namely, whether we might not have provided better for the future, and sought out other modes of reward for services we had acknowledged, than the maintenance of two pageants of sovereignty, both acknowledged, the one de facto, the other de jure. It was fortunate, however, that the magnitude of the titular prince’s pretensions placed him completely in opposition to the other contracting parties, inasmuch as he would not abide by either the spirit or the letter of the treaty or its supplement, in the most modified sense. His demand for “a personal guard of three thousand of his kinsmen, that he might allot estates at pleasure to his chiefs, appoint the governors of fortresses, and be head of the army,” was a virtual repudiation of every principle of the alliance; while the succession to the administrative powers of the State, secured to the issue of the regent, was made to depend on his pleasure: rather a frail tenure whether in Europe or Rajputana.
Everything that could be done to withdraw the infatuated prince from the knot of evil advisers and fiery spirits who daily flocked to his standard, carrying with them their own and their ancestors’ wrongs, being ineffectual and hopeless, the troops which had been called upon to maintain the treaty moved forward in combination with the army of the regent. As the force reached the Kali Sind, which alone divided the rivals for power, torrents of rain, which during several days swelled it to an impassable flood, afforded more time to try all that friendship or prudence could urge to save the Maharao from the impending ruin. But all was vain; he saw the storm, and invited its approach with mingled resolution and despair, proclaiming the most submissive obedience to the paramount power, and avowing a conviction of the good intentions and friendship of its representative; but to every remonstrance he replied, “what was life without honour; what was a sovereign without authority? Death, or the full sovereignty of his ancestors!” [576].
The conduct of the regent was not less perplexing than that of the prince; for while he affected still to talk of fealty, “to preserve his white beard from stain,” he placed before him the ample shield of the treaty, although he expected that his power should be maintained without any active measures on his own part for its defence: a degree of irresponsibility not for a moment to be tolerated. It was in vain he hinted at the spirit, more than doubtful, of his army; that in the moment of conflict they might turn their guns against us; even this he was told we would hazard: and, it was added, if he desired, at whatever cost, to preserve the power guaranteed to his family, he must act offensively as well as defensively; for it would shortly be too late to talk of reconciling fealty with the preservation of his power. The wily regent desired to have his work done for him; to have all the benefit which the alliance compelled us to afford, with none of the obloquy it entailed. The Agent had some hope, even at the twelfth hour, that rather than incur the opprobrium of the world, and the penalty denounced against the violation of swamidharma, in committing to the chance of battle the lives of all those to whom he was protector, he would draw back and compromise his power; but the betrayal of his half-formed designs in hypocritical cant adapted only for the multitude, soon dispelled the illusion; and though there was a strong internal struggle, the love of dominion overcame every scruple.
The combination of the troops was discussed in his presence and that of his officers; and in order that unity of action might be ensured, a British officer was at his request attached to his force.[[5]]
Battle of Māngrol.
The time having expired, and not an iota of the pretensions being abated, the signal, as agreed upon, was given, and the action commenced by a discharge of cannon and firearms from the regent’s whole line, immediately followed by the horse-artillery on the right. With all the gallantry that has ever distinguished the Haras, they acted as at Fatehabad and Dholpur, and charged the regent’s line, when several were killed at the very muzzle of the guns, and but for the advance of three squadrons of British cavalry, would have turned his left flank, and probably penetrated to the reserve, where the regent was in person.[[7]] Defeated in this design, they had no resource but a precipitate retreat from the unequal conflict, and the Maharao, surrounded by a gol of about four hundred horse, all Haras, his kinsmen, retired across the stream, and halted on the rising ground about half a mile distant, while his auxiliary foot broke and dispersed in all directions. The British troops rapidly crossed the stream, and while the infantry made a movement to cut off [578] retreat from the south, two squadrons were commanded to charge the Maharao. Determined not to act offensively, even in this emergency he adhered to his resolution, and his band awaited in a dense mass and immovable attitude the troops advancing with rapidity against them, disdaining to fly and yet too proud to yield. A British officer headed each troop; they and those they led had been accustomed to see the foe fly from the shock; but they were Pindaris, not Rajputs. The band stood like a wall of adamant; our squadrons rebounded from the shock, leaving two brave youths[[8]] dead on the spot, and their gallant commander[[9]] was saved by a miracle, being stunned by a blow which drove in his casque, his reins cut, and the arm raised to give the coup de grâce, when a pistol-shot from his orderly levelled his assailant. The whole was the work of an instant. True to the determination he expressed, the Maharao, satisfied with repelling the charge, slowly moved off; nor was it till the horse-artillery again closed, and poured round and grape into the dense body, that they quickened their retreat; while, as three fresh squadrons had formed for the charge, they reached the makkai fields, amongst the dense crops of which they were lost.
Death of Prithi Singh.
It was not from any auxiliary soldier that the prince received his death-wound; it was inflicted by a lance, propelled with unerring force from behind, penetrating the lungs, the point appearing through the chest. He said it was a revengeful blow from some determined hand, as he felt the steeled point twisted in the wound to ensure its [579] being mortal. Although the squadrons of the regent joined in the pursuit, yet not a man of them dared to come to close quarters with their enemy; it was therefore supposed that some treacherous arm had mingled with his men, and inflicted the blow which relieved the regent from the chief enemy to his son and successor.
The Maharao and his band were indebted for safety to the forest of corn, so thick, lofty, and luxuriant, that even his elephant was lost sight of. This shelter extended to the rivulet, only five miles in advance, which forms the boundary of Haraoti; but it was deemed sufficient to drive him out of the Kotah territory, where alone his presence could be dangerous. The infantry and foreign levies, who had no moral courage to sustain them, fled for their lives, and many were cut to pieces by detached troops of our cavalry.
The calm, undaunted valour of the Maharao and his kin could not fail to extort applause from those gallant minds which can admire the bravery of a foe, though few of those who had that day to confront them were aware of the moral courage which sustained their opponents, and which converted their vis inertiae into an almost impassable barrier.
Devotion of Two Hāras.
The entire devotion which the vassalage of Haraoti manifested for the cause of the Maharao, exemplified, as before observed, the nature and extent of swamidharma or fealty, which has been described as the essential quality of the Rajput character; while, at the same time, it illustrates the severity of the regent’s yoke. Even the chief who negotiated the treaty could not resist the defection (one of his sons was badly wounded), although he enjoyed estates under the regent which his hereditary rank did not sanction, besides being connected with him by marriage.
The Maharao gained the Parbati, which, it is said, he swam over. He had scarcely reached the shore when his horse dropped dead from a grape-shot wound. With about three hundred horse he retired upon Baroda. We had no vengeance to execute; we could not, therefore, consider the brave men, who abandoned their homes and their families from a principle of honour, in the light of the old enemies of our power, to be pursued and exterminated. They had, it is true, confronted us in the field; yet only defensively, in a cause at least morally just and seemingly sanctioned by authorities which they could not distrust.
Reflections on the Outbreak.
The Maharao continued his course to Nathdwara in Mewar, proving that the sentiment of religious abstraction alone can take the place of ambition. The individuals who, for their own base purposes, had by misrepresentation and guile guided him to ruin, now deserted him; the film fell from his eyes, and he saw, though too late, the only position in which he could exist. In a very short time every pretension inimical to the spirit and letter of the treaty, original and supplemental, was relinquished; when, with the regent’s concurrence, a note was transmitted to him, containing the basis on which his return to Kotah was practicable. A transcript with his acceptance being received, a formal deed was drawn up, executed by the Agent and attested by the regent, not only defining the precise position of both parties, but establishing a barrier between the titular and executive authorities, which must for ever prevent all collision of interests; nothing was left to chance or cavil. The grand object was to provide for the safety, comfort, and dignity of the prince, and this was done on a scale of profuse liberality; far beyond what his father, or indeed any prince of Kotah had enjoyed, and incommensurate with the revenue of the State, of which it is about the twentieth portion. The amount equals the household expenditure of the Rana of Udaipur, the avowed head of the whole Rajput race, but which can be better afforded from the flourishing revenues of Kotah than the slowly improving finances of Mewar.
Restoration of the Mahārāo.
This last scene being over, the Maharao left his retreat at the fane of Kanhaiya, and marched across the plateau to his paternal domains. On the last day of the year the regent, accompanied by the Agent, advanced to reconduct the prince to the capital. The universal demonstration of satisfaction at his return was the most convincing testimony that any other course would have been erroneous. On that day he once more took possession of the gaddi which he had twice abandoned, with a resignation free from all asperity, or even embarrassment. Feelings arising out of a mind accustomed to religious meditation, aided while they softened the bitter monitor, adversity, and together they afforded the best security that any deviation from the new order of things would never proceed from him.
Arrangements with the Mahārāo.
The Agent remained an entire month after this, to strengthen the good understanding now introduced. He even effected a reconciliation between the prince and Madho Singh, when the former, with great tact and candour, took upon himself the blame of all these disturbances; each gave his hand in token of future amity, and the prince spontaneously embraced the man (the regent’s son) to whom he attributed all his misery. But the Maharao’s comforts and dignity are now independent of control, and watched over by a guardian who will demand a rigid exaction of every stipulation in his favour. The patriarchal Zalim was, or affected to be, overjoyed at this result, which had threatened to involve them all in the abyss of misery. Bitter was his self-condemnation at the moral blindness of his conduct, which had not foreseen and guarded against the storm; and severe, as well as merited, was the castigation he inflicted on his successor. “It is for your sins, son, that I am punished,” was the conclusion of every such exhortation.
It will be deemed a singular fatality, that this last conspicuous act in the political life of the regent should have been on the spot which exactly sixty years before witnessed the opening scene of his career; for the field of Bhatwara[[14]] adjoined that of Mangrol. What visions must have chased each other on this last memorable day, when he recalled the remembrance of the former! when the same sword, which redeemed the independence of Kotah from tributary degradation to Amber, was now drawn against the grandson of that sovereign who rewarded his services with the first office of the State! Had some prophetic Bardai withdrawn the mantle of Bhavani, and disclosed through the vista of threescore years the regent in the foreground, in all the panoply of ingenuous youth “spreading his carpet” at Bhatwara, to review the charge of the Kachhwaha chivalry, and in the distant perspective that same being palsied, blind, and decrepit, leading a mingled host, in character and costume altogether strange, against the grandchildren of his prince, and the [585] descendants of those Haras who nobly seconded him to gain this reputation, what effect would such a prospect have produced on one whom the mere hooting of an owl on the house-top had “scared from his propriety”?
Soon after the satisfactory conclusion of these painful scenes, the regent returned to the Chhaoni, his fixed camp, and projected a tour of the State, to allay the disorders which had crept in, and to regulate afresh the action of the State-machine, the construction of which had occupied a long life, but which could not fail to be deranged by the complicated views which had arisen amongst those whose business was to work it. Often, amidst these conflicts, did he exclaim, with his great prototype both in prosperity and sorrow, “My kinsfolk have failed, and my familiar friends have forgotten me.” But Zalim had not the same resources in his griefs that Job had; nor could he with him exclaim, “If my land cry against me, if I have eaten the fruits thereof without money, or caused the owners thereof to lose their lives, let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle instead of barley.”[[15]] His yet vigorous mind, however, soon restored everything to its wonted prosperity; and in a few weeks not a trace was left of the commotions which for a while had totally unhinged society, and threatened to deluge the land with proscription and blood. The prince was reseated on the throne with far greater comforts about him and more certainty of stability than previous to the treaty; the nobles took possession of their estates with not a blade of grass removed, and the ghar-kheti, the home-farms of the Regent, lost none of their productiveness; commerce was unscathed, and public opinion, which had dared loudly to question the moral justice of these proceedings, was conciliated by their conclusion. The regent survived these events five years; his attenuated frame was worn out by a spirit, vigorous to the last pulsation of life, and too strong for the feeble cage which imprisoned it.[[16]]
Character of Zālim Singh.
the world is e’er deceived by ornament;
nor did the princes of Kotah ever appear with such magnificence as when he possessed all the attributes of royalty but the name. Every act evinced his deep skill in the [587] knowledge of the human mind and of the elements by which he was surrounded; he could circumvent the crafty Mahratta, calm or quell the arrogant Rajput, and extort the applause even of the Briton, who is little prone to allow merit in an Asiatic. He was a depository of the prejudices and the pride of his countrymen, both in religious and social life; yet, enigmatical as it must appear, he frequently violated them, though the infraction was so gradual as to be imperceptible except to the few who watched the slow progress of his plans. To such he appeared a compound of the most contradictory elements: lavish and parsimonious, oppressing and protecting; with one hand bestowing diamond aigrettes, with the other taking the tithe of the anchorite’s wallet; one day sequestrating estates and driving into exile the ancient chiefs of the land; the next receiving with open arms some expatriated noble, and supporting him in dignity and affluence, till the receding tide of human affairs rendered such support no longer requisite.
Zālim Singh and Witches.
Amusements of Zālim Singh.
His Gardens.
Wrestling.
The Last Years of Zālim Singh.
Amongst the motives which might have urged the surrender of his power, stronger perhaps than his desire of reparation with heaven and his prince, was the fear of his successor’s inefficiency; but this consideration unhappily was counterbalanced by the precocious talents of his grandson, whom he affectionately loved, and in whom he thought he saw himself renewed. Pride also, that chief ingredient in his character, checked such surrender; he feared the world would suppose he had relinquished what he could no longer retain; and ruin would have been preferred to the idea that he had been “driven from his stool.” Able and artful ministers flattered the feeling so deeply rooted, and to crown the whole, he was supported by obligations of public faith contracted by a power without a rival. Still, old age, declining health, the desire of repose and of religious retirement, prompted wishes which often escaped his lips [591]; but counteracting feelings intruded, and the struggle between the good and evil principle lasted until the moment had passed when abdication would have been honourable. Had he, however, obeyed the impulse, his retreat would have more resembled that of the fifth Charles than of the Roman King. In the shades of Nathdwara he would have enjoyed that repose, which Diocletian could not find at Salona; and embued with a better philosophy and more knowledge of the human heart, he would have practised what was taught, that “there ought to be no intermediate change between the command of men and the service of God” [592].
[1]. [Jhābua, in Bhopāwar Agency, Central India (IGI, xiv. 104 ff.).]
[2]. [A British cantonment in Gwalior State (IGI, xix. 105 f.).]
[3]. [In the Mathura District, United Provinces of Agra and Oudh.]
[4]. Letter of Maharao Kishor Singh, accompanying counter-articles, presented to Capt. Tod, dated Asoj badi Panchami, or 16th September, ‘Camp Miyana.’
(After compliments.)
Chand Khan has often expressed a desire to know what were my expectations. These had been already sent to you by my wakils, Mirza Muhammad Ali Beg, and Lala Salik Ram. I again send you the Schedule of Articles. According to their purport you will act. Do me justice as the representative of the British Government, and let the master be as master, and the servant as servant; this is the case everywhere else, and is not hidden from you.
Articles, the fulfilment of which was demanded by Maharao Kishor Singh, and accompanying his letter of 16th September.
1. According to the treaty executed at Delhi, in the time of Maharao Ummed Singh, I will abide.
2. I have every confidence in Nanaji Zalim Singh; in like manner as he served Maharao Ummed Singh, so he will serve me. I agree to his administration of affairs; but between Madho Singh and myself suspicions and doubts exist; we can never agree; therefore, I will give him a jagir; there let him remain. His son, Bapa Lal, shall remain with me, and in the same way as other ministers conduct State business before their princes, so shall he before me. I, the master, he, the servant; and if as the servant he acts, it will abide from generation to generation.
3. To the English Government, and other principalities, whatever letters are addressed shall be with my concurrence and advice.
4. Surety for his life, and also for mine, must be guaranteed by the English Government.
5. I shall allot a jagir for Prithi Singh (the Maharao’s brother), at which he will reside. The establishments to reside with him and my brother Bishan Singh shall be of my nomination. Besides, to my kinsmen and clansmen, according to their rank, I shall give jagirs, and they shall, according to ancient usage, be in attendance upon me.
6. My personal or khas guards, to the amount of three thousand, with Bapa Lal (the regent’s grandson) shall remain in attendance.
7. The amount of the collections of the country shall all be deposited in the Kishan Bhandar (general treasury), and thence expenditure made.
8. The Kiladars (commandants) of all the forts shall be appointed by me, and the army shall be under my orders. He (the regent) may desire the officers of Government to execute his commands, but it shall be with my advice and sanction.
These are the Articles I desire; they are according to the rules for government (rajrit)—Mitti Asoj Panchami, S. 1878 (1822).
[5]. Lieutenant M‘Millan, of the 5th Regt. Native Infantry, volunteered for this duty, and performed it as might have been expected from an officer of his gallantry and conduct.
[6]. [The battle was fought at Māngrol, on the left bank of the Pārbati River, about 40 miles N.N.E. from Kotah city, on October 1, 1821.]
[7]. The Author, who placed himself on the extreme left of the regent’s line, to be a check upon the dubious conduct of his troops, particularly noted this intended movement, which was frustrated only by Major Kennedy’s advance.
[8]. Lieutenants Clarke and Read, of the 4th Regt. Light Cavalry.
[9]. Major (now Lt.-Col.) J. Ridge, C.B.
[10]. Lieut. (now Captain) M‘Millan and the Author were the only officers, I believe, who witnessed this singular scene.
[11]. In a letter, addressed by some of the principal chiefs to the regent, through the Agent, they did not hesitate to say they had been guided in the course they adopted of obeying the summons of the Maharao, by instructions of his confidential minister.
[12]. The native treasurer at Delhi, who conducted these intrigues, after a strict investigation was dismissed from his office; and the same fate was awarded to the chief Munshi of the Persian secretary’s office at the seat of government. Regular treaties and bonds were found in the camp of the Maharao, which afforded abundant condemnatory evidence against these confidential officers, who mainly produced the catastrophe we have to record, and rendered nugatory the most strenuous efforts to save the misguided prince and his brave brethren.
[13]. The Author, who had to perform the painful duty related in this detailed transaction, was alternately aided and embarrassed by his knowledge of the past history of the Haras, and the mutual relations of all its discordant elements. Perhaps, entire ignorance would have been better—a bare knowledge of the treaty, and the expediency of a rigid adherence thereto, unbiassed by sympathy, or notions of abstract justice, which has too little in common with diplomacy. But without overlooking the colder dictates of duty, he determined that the aegis of Britain should not be a shield of oppression, and that the remains of Hara independence, which either policy or fear had compelled the regent to respect, should not thereby be destroyed; and he assumed the responsibility, a few days after the action, of proclaiming a general amnesty to the chiefs, and an invitation to each to return to his dwelling. He told the regent that any proceeding which might render this clemency nugatory, would not fail to dissatisfy the Government. All instantly availed themselves of the permission; and in every point of view, morally and physically, the result was most satisfactory, and it acted as a panacea for the wounds our public faith compelled us to inflict. Even in the midst of their compulsory infliction, he had many sources of gratulation: and of these he will give an anecdote illustrative of Rajput character. In 1807, when the Author, then commencing his career, was wandering alone through their country, surveying their geography, and collecting scraps of their statistics, he left Sindhia battering Rahatgarh [in Sāgar District, Central Provinces] and with a slender guard proceeded through the wilds of Chanderi, and thence direct westwards to trace the course of all the rivers lying between the Betwa and the Chambal. In passing through Haravati, leaving his tent standing at Bara, he had advanced with the perambulator as far as the Kali-Sind, a distance of seventeen miles; and, leaving his people to follow at leisure, was returning home unattended at a brisk canter, when, as he passed through the town of Bamolia, a party rushed out and made him captive, saying that he must visit the chief [582]. Although much fatigued, it would have been folly to refuse. He obeyed, and was conveyed to a square, in the centre of which was an elevated chabutra or platform, shaded by the sacred tree. Here, sitting on carpets, was the chief with his little court. The Author was received most courteously. The first act was to disembarrass him of his boots; but this, heated as he was, they could not effect: refreshments were then put before him, and a Brahman brought water, with a ewer and basin, for his ablutions. Although he was then but an indifferent linguist, and their patois scarcely intelligible to him, he passed a very happy hour, in which conversation never flagged. The square was soon filled, and many a pair of fine black eyes smiled courteously upon the stranger—for the females, to his surprise, looked abroad without any fear of censure; though he was ignorant of their sphere in life. The Author’s horse was lame, which the chief had noticed; and on rising to go, he found one ready caparisoned for him, which, however, he would not accept. On reaching his tent the Author sent several little articles as tokens of regard. Fourteen years after this, the day following the action at Mangrol, he received a letter by a messenger from the mother of the chief of Bamolia, who sent her blessing, and invoked him, by past friendship and recollections, to protect her son, whose honour had made him join the standard of his sovereign. The Author had the satisfaction of replying that her son would be with her nearly as soon as the bearer of the letter. The Bamolia chief, it will be recollected, was the descendant of the chief of Aton, one of the great opponents of the regent at the opening of his career.
[14]. The battle of Bhatwara was fought in S. 1817, or A.D. 1761; the action at Mangrol, Oct. 1, A.D. 1821.
[15]. Job, chap. xxxi. 38-40.
[16]. [Zālim Singh died in 1824, and was succeeded as regent by his son, Mādho Singh, who was notoriously unfit for office, and he was succeeded by his son, Madan Singh. Maharāo Kishor Singh II. died in 1828, and was succeeded by his nephew, Rām Singh II. (1828-66). Six years after his accession disputes again arose between him and his minister, Madan Singh, and it was resolved to dismember the State of Kotah, and to create the new principality of Jhālawār as a separate provision for the descendants of Zālim Singh (IGI, xv. 414; H. H. Wilson, continuation of Mill, Hist. of British India, 1846, vol. ii. p. 424).]
[17]. [Āīn, ii. 338 f.]
[18]. [Swift, Gulliver’s Travels: Voyage to Brobdingnag.]
[19]. [Kāgla kā bāgh, ‘The Crow’s Garden.’]
[20]. [Musa champa, or Chīni champa, the finest of all plantains (Watt, Econ. Prod. 787).]
[21]. [Pinus odoratissimus, the screw-pine, used for its fibre, and “for, perhaps, the most characteristic and most widely used perfume of India” (ibid. 188, 727).]
[22]. There are sixteen annas to the rupee or half-crown.
[23]. “Āsmān dikhlānā” is the phrase of the ‘Fancy’ in these regions for victory; when the vanquished is thrown upon his back and kept in that attitude. [For an account of the Jethi[Jethi] wrestlers of the Telugu country see Thurston, Castes and Tribes of Southern India, ii. 456 ff.]
[24]. See an account of this instrument by Colonel Briggs, Transactions of Royal Asiatic Society, vol. ii. [See Vol. II. p. [721].]