Limitations of Service.
For state and show, a portion of the greater vassals[[7]] reside at the capital for [148] some months, when they have permission to retire to their estates, and are relieved by another portion. On the grand military festival the whole attend for a given time; and when the prince took the field, the whole assembled at their own charge; but if hostilities carried them beyond the frontier they were allowed certain rations.
Escuage or Scutage.
Inefficiency of this Form of Government.
Rivalry of the Chondāwat and Saktāwat Sub-clans.
Untala is the frontier fortress in the plains, about eighteen miles east of the capital, and covering the road which leads from it to the more ancient one of Chitor. It is situated on a rising ground, with a stream flowing beneath its walls, which are of solid masonry, lofty, and with round towers at intervals.[[13]] In the centre was the governor’s house, also fortified. One gate only gave admission to this castle.
The clans, always rivals in power, now competitors in glory, moved off at the same time, some hours before daybreak—Untala the goal, the harawal the reward! Animated with hope—a barbarous and cruel foe the object of their prowess—their wives and families spectators, on their return, of the meed of enterprise; the bard [150], who sang the praise of each race at their outset, demanding of each materials for a new wreath, supplied every stimulus that a Rajput could have to exertion.
The Saktawats made directly for the gateway, which they reached as the day broke, and took the foe unprepared; but the walls were soon manned, and the action commenced. The Chondawats, less skilled in topography, had traversed a swamp, which retarded them—but through which they dashed, fortunately meeting a guide in a shepherd of Untala. With more foresight than their opponents, they had brought ladders. The chief led the escalade, but a ball rolled him back amidst his vassals; it was not his destiny to lead the harawal! Each party was checked. The Saktawat depended on the elephant he rode, to gain admission by forcing the gate; but its projecting spikes deterred the animal from applying its strength. His men were falling thick around him, when a shout from the other party made him dread their success. He descended from his seat, placed his body on the spikes, and commanded the driver, on pain of instant death, to propel the elephant against him. The gates gave way, and over the dead body of their chief his clan rushed to the combat! But even this heroic surrender of his life failed to purchase the honour for his clan. The lifeless corpse of his rival was already in Untala, and this was the event announced by the shout which urged his sacrifice to honour and ambition. When the Chondawat chief fell, the next in rank and kin took the command. He was one of those arrogant, reckless Rajputs, who signalized themselves wherever there was danger, not only against men but tigers, and his common appellation was the Benda Thakur (‘mad chief’) of Deogarh. When his leader fell, he rolled the body in his scarf; then tying it on his back, scaled the wall, and with his lance having cleared the way before him he threw the dead body over the parapet of Untala, shouting, “The vanguard to the Chondawat! we are first in!” The shout was echoed by the clan, and the rampart was in their possession nearly at the moment of the entry of the Saktawats. The Moguls fell under their swords: the standard of Mewar was erected in the castle of Untala, but the leading of the vanguard remained with the Chondawats[[14]] [151].
This is not the sole instance of such jealousies being converted into a generous and patriotic rivalry; many others could be adduced throughout the greater principalities, but especially amongst the brave Rathors of Marwar.
It was a nice point to keep these clans poised against each other; their feuds were not without utility, and the tact of the prince frequently turned them to account. One party was certain to be enlisted on the side of the sovereign, and this alone counter-balanced the evil tendencies before described. To this day it has been a perpetual struggle for supremacy; and the epithets of ‘loyalist’ and ‘traitor’ have been alternating between them for centuries, according to the portion they enjoyed of the prince’s favour, and the talents and disposition of the heads of the clans to maintain their predominance at court. The Saktawats are weaker in numbers, but have the reputation of greater bravery and more genius than their rivals. I am inclined, on the whole, to assent to this opinion; and the very consciousness of this reputation must be a powerful incentive to its preservation.