And give to fame what we to nature owe.”
[7]. I.e. blood.
[8]. “The city of the moon.”
[9]. The lunar abode seems that allotted for all bards, who never mention Bhanloka, or the ‘mansion of the sun,’ as a place of reward for them. Doubtless they could assign a reason for such a distinction.
[10]. This is but a short transcript of the poetic account of this battle, in which the deeds, name, and tribe of every warrior who fell are related. The heroes of Thermopylae had not a more brilliant theme for the bard. [Compare the more matter-of-fact accounts of Khāfi Khān, Elliot-Dowson (vii. 296 f.), and of Manucci (ii. 233 f.).]
[11]. Here is another instance of the ancient patronymic being brought in by the bards, and it is thus they preserve the names and deeds of the worthies of past days. Rao Duhar was one of the earliest Rathor kings of Marwar.
[12]. [According to Musalmān authorities, the name of the son of Amar Singh was Indar Singh, not Ratan Singh (Jadunath Sarkar, Life of Aurangzib, iii. 369).]
[13]. [In 1679 Khān Jahān arrived from Jodhpur, bringing several cartloads of idols pillaged from Hindu temples. It was ordered that some should be cast away into the out-offices, and the remainder to be placed beneath the steps of the Great Mosque, there to be trampled under foot (Elliot-Dowson vii. 187; Jadunath Sarkar iii. 323).]
[15]. It may be well to exhibit the manner in which the poetic annalist of Rajputana narrates such events, and to give them in his own language rather than in an epitome, by which not only the pith of the original would be lost, but the events themselves deprived of half their interest. The character of historic fidelity will thus be preserved from suspicion, which could scarcely be withheld if the narrative were exhibited in any but its native garb. This will also serve to sustain the Annals of Marwar, formed from a combination of such materials, and dispose the reader to acknowledge the impossibility of reducing such animated chronicles to the severe style of history. But more than all, it is with the design to prove what, in the preface of this work, the reader was compelled to take on credit; that the Rajput kingdoms were in no ages without such chronicles: and if we may not compare them with Froissart, or with Monstrelet, they may be allowed to compete with the Anglo-Saxon chronicles, and they certainly surpass those of Ulster. But we have stronger motives than even legitimate curiosity, in allowing the bard to tell his own tale of the thirty years’ war of Rajputana; the desire which has animated this task from its commencement, to give a correct idea of the importance of these events, and to hold them up as a beacon to the present governors of these brave men. How well that elegant historian, Orme, appreciates their importance, as bearing on our own conduct in power, the reader will perceive by reference to his Fragments [ed. 1782, note i.], where he says, “There are no states or powers on the continent of India, with whom our nation has either connexion or concern, which do not owe the origin of their present condition to the reign of Aurangzebe, or to its influence on the reigns of his successors.” It behoves us, therefore, to make ourselves acquainted with the causes as well as the characters of those who occasioned the downfall of our predecessors in the sovereignty of India. With this object in view, the bard shall tell his own tale from the birth of Ajit, in S. 1737, to 1767, when he had vanquished all opposition to Aurangzeb, and regained the throne of Maru.