On the left, in advance of the main temple, is one about thirty feet high, containing an image of Ashtabhuji Mata, or the ‘eight-armed mother’; but here the pious Muslim has robbed the goddess of all her arms, save that with which she grasps her shield, and has also removed her head. She treads firmly on the centaur, Maheswar,[[7]] whose dissevered head lies at some distance in the area, while the lion of the Hindu Cybele [706] still retains his grasp of his quarters. The Joginis and Apsarases, or ‘maids of war’ of Rajput martial poetry, have been spared.
On the right is the shrine of Trimurti, the triune divinity. Brahma’s face, in the centre, has been totally obliterated, as has that of Vishnu, the Preserver; but the Destroyer is uninjured. The tiara, which covers the head[[8]] of this triple divinity, is also entire, and of perfect workmanship. The skill of the sculptor “can no further go.” Groups of snakes adorn the clustering locks on the ample forehead of Siva, which are confined by a bandeau, in the centre of which there is a death’s head ornament, hideously exact. Various and singularly elegant devices are wrought in the tiara: in one, two horses couped from the shoulder, passing from a rich centring and surmounted by a death’s head; a dissevered arm points to a vulture advancing to seize it, while serpents are wreathed round the neck and hands of the Destroyer, whose half-opened mouth discloses a solitary tooth, and the tongue curled up with a demoniacal expression. The whole is colossal, the figures being six feet and a half high. The relief is very bold, and altogether the group is worthy of having casts made from it.
We now come to the grand temple itself, which is fifty-eight feet in height, and in the ancient form peculiar to the temples of Siva. The body of the edifice, in which is the sanctum of the god, and over which rises its pyramidal sikhara, is a square of only twenty-one feet; but the addition of the domed vestibule (mandap) and portico makes it forty-four by twenty-one. An outline of this by Ghasi, a native artist (who labours at Udaipur for the same daily pay as a tailor, carpenter, or other artisan), gives a tolerably good notion of its appearance, though none of its beauty. The whole is covered with mythological sculpture, without as well as within, emblematic of the ‘great god’ (Mahadeo), who is the giver, as well as the destroyer, of life. In a niche outside, to the south, he is armed against the Daityas (Titans), the munda-mala, or skull-chaplet, reaching to his knees, and in seven of his arms are offensive weapons. His cap is the frustum[frustum] of a cone, composed of snakes interlaced, with a fillet of skulls: the khopra is in his hand, and the victims are scattered around. On his right is one of the maids of slaughter (Jogini) drunk with blood, the cup still at her lip, and her countenance expressive of vacuity; while below, on the left, is a female personification of Death, mere skin and bone: a sickle (khurpi) in her right hand,[[9]] its knob a death’s head, completes this group of the attributes of destruction [707].
To the west is Mahadeo under another form, a beautiful and animated statue, the expression mild, as when he went forth to entice the mountain-nymph, Mena, to his embrace. His tiara is a blaze of finely-executed ornaments, and his snake-wreath, which hangs round him as a garland, has a clasp of two heads of Seshnag (the serpent-king), while Nandi below is listening with placidity to the sound of the damru. His khopra, and kharg, or skull-cap, and sword, which he is in the attitude of using, are the only accompaniments denoting the god of blood.
The northern compartment is a picture, disgustingly faithful, of death and its attributes, vulgarly known as Bhukhi Mata, or the personification of famine, lank and bare; her necklace, like her lord’s, of skulls. Close by are two mortals in the last stage of existence, so correctly represented as to excite an unpleasant surprise. The outline, I may say, is anatomically correct. The mouth is half open and distorted, and although the eye is closed in death, an expression of mental anguish seems still to linger upon the features. A beast of prey is approaching the dead body; while, by way of contrast, a male figure, in all the vigour of youth and health, lies prostrate at her feet.
Such is a faint description of the sculptured niches on each of the external faces of the mandir, whence the spire rises, simple and solid. In order, however, to be distinctly understood, I shall give some slight ichnographic details. First, is the mandir or cella, in which is the statue of the god; then the mandap, or, in architectural nomenclature, the pronaos; and third, the portico, with which we shall begin, though it transcends all description.
SCULPTURED NICHE ON THE EXTERIOR OF THE TEMPLE AT BAROLLI.
To face page 1756.
Like all temples dedicated to Bal-Siva,[[10]] the vivifier, or ‘sun-god,’ it faces the east. The portico projects several feet beyond the mandap, and has four superb columns in front, of which the outline by Ghasi conveys but a very imperfect idea. Flat fluted pilasters are placed on either side of the entrance of the mandap, serving as a support to the internal toran, or triumphal arch, and a single column intervenes on each side between the pilasters and the columns in front. The columns are about eighteen feet in height. The proportions are perfect; and though the difference of diameter between the superior and inferior portions of the shaft is less than the Grecian standard, there is no want of elegance of effect, whilst it gives an idea of more grandeur. The frieze is one mass of sculptured figures, generally of human beings, male and female, in pairs; the horned monster termed Grasda separating the different pairs. The internal toran or triumphal arch, which is invariably attached to all ancient temples of the sun-god, is [708] of that peculiar curvature formed by the junction of two arcs of a circle from different centres, a form of arch well known in Gothic and Saracenic architecture, but which is an essential characteristic of the more ancient Hindu temples. The head of a Grasda crowns its apex, and on the outline is a concatenation of figures armed with daggers, apparently ascending the arch to strike the monster. The roof of the Mandap (pronaos) cannot be described: its various parts must be examined with microscopic nicety in order to enter into detail. In the whole of the ornaments there is an exact harmony which I have seen nowhere else; even the miniature elephants are in the finest proportions, and exquisitely carved.
The ceilings both of the portico and Mandap are elaborately beautiful: that of the portico, of one single block, could hardly be surpassed. (Vide Plate.) Of the exterior I shall not attempt further description: it is a grand, a wonderful effort of the Silpi (architect), one series rising above and surpassing the other, from the base to the urn which surmounts the pinnacle.