Those who expect from a people like the Hindus a species of composition of precisely the same character as the historical works of Greece and Rome, c… - James Tod

Those who expect from a people like the Hindus a species of composition of precisely the same character as the historical works of Greece and Rome commit the very gregarious error of overlooking the peculiarities which distinguish the natives of India from all other races, and which strongly discriminate their intellectual productions of every kind from those of the West. Their philosophy, their poetry, their architecture, are marked with traits of originality; and the same may be expected to pervade their history, which, like the arts enumerated, took a character from its intimate association with the religion of the people. It must be recollected, moreover,… that the chronicles of all the polished nations of Europe, were, at a much more recent date, as crude, as wild, and as barren, as those of the early Rajputs.

To the drying up of the Hakra, or Gliaggar, many centuries ago, in conjunction with moral evils, is ascribed the existing desolation. According to tradition, this stream took a westerly direction, by Phidra, where it is yet to be traced, and fell into the Indus below Uchh. The couplet recording its absorption by the sands of Ner has already been given, in the time of Rao Hamir, prince of Dhat. If the next European traveller who may pass through the Indian desert will seek out the representative of the ancient Sodha princes at Chor, near Umarkot, he may learn from their bard (if they retain such an appendage) the date of this prince, and that of so important an event in the physical and political history of their regions. The vestiges of large towns, now buried in the sands, confirm the truth of this tradition, and several of them claim a high antiquity ; such as the Rangmahall, already mentioned, west of Bhatner, having subterranean apartments still ill good preservation. An aged native of Daudusar (twenty- five miles south of Bhatner) replied, to my inquiry as to the recollections attached to this place, that “ it belonged to a Panwar prince who ruled once all these regions, when Sikandar Riimi attacked them.”

The temple of Somnat’h stood in the center of an immense quadrangular court, defended by its own lofty battlements. The subordinate shrines, which, like satellites, heightened the splendour of the ‘Lord of the Moon,’ are now levelled with the earth, and mosques, walls, and the habitations of mortals, have been raised from their debris. The extent of the court may be estimated by the simple fact, that the nearest of the reservoirs for the lustrations of Bal and his priests is full one hundred yards distant from the shrine. The great mosque, called the Joomma Musjid, must have absorbed the materials of at least five of these minor shrines; for its five vaulted cupolas, with all their appendages, are purely Hindu, and the enormous triple-colonnaded court, in which it stands, must have cost a dozen more. Such was and such is the shrine of Somnat’h, even now a noble object, yet how much grander in the high and palmy days of Hinduism, with all its ministrant appendages!… Nothing can surpass the beauty of the site chosen for the temple, which stands on a projecting rock, whose base is washed by the ocean. Here, resting on the skirt of the mighty waters, the vision lost in their boundless expanse, the votary would be lulled to a blissful state of repose by the monotonous roar of the waves. Before him is the bay, extending to Billawul, its golden sands kept in perpetual agitation by the surf, in bold and graceful curvature; it is unrivalled in India, and although I have since seen many noble bays, from that of Penzance to Salernum, perhaps the finest in the world, with all its accessories of back-ground, and in all the glory of closing day, none ever struck my imagination more forcibly than that of Puttun. The port and headland of Billawul, with its dark walls raised as a defence against the pirates of Europe, form a noble terminating point of view, and form which the land trends northwards to Dwarica. The peaks of Girnar, twenty coss distant (N. 7° E.), would raise the sublimest feelings, or if he chooses more tranquil scenes, the country around presents objects of interest, the plains being well-wooded, and diversified both by nature and art. Such is the chief temple of paganism, the destruction of which, in A.H. 416 (A.D. 1008), was deemed by the Sultan of Ghizni an act of religious duty.

…Let the reader discard his shoes, and prepare to enter with me the sacred fanes of Dailwara. This is a contraction of Dewulwarra, ‘the place or region of temples,’ a term aptly applied to the site of this numerous group, from which I select two of the most remarkable. The reader will be pleased to consider himself at the entrance of the shrine sacred to Vrishabdeva, the first of the Jains. Beyond controversy this is the most superb of all the temples of India, and there is not an edifice besides the Mahal that can approach to it. The pen is incompetent to describe the exuberant beauties of this proud monument of the Jains, raised by one of the richest of their votaries (by whose name, and not that of the pontiff enshrined within, it is still designated), and which continues to attract pilgrims from every region of India. Bimul Shah, whose work has immortalized him, was a merchant of Anhulwarra, at one time the Tyre of India, and the ancient stronghold of the Jain faith. It was, however, towards the close of her long career of renown, that these two edifices were erected and happily for these votaries of Jainism, who, to use the words of the bard, “exchanged their perishable wealth for an immortal name,” for hardly were the fabrics reared, when the metropolis of Western India was sacked, its merchants driven forth, and their riches transferred to the Northern Invader. Previous to their erection, the immediate spot was occupied by the orthodox divinities, Siva and Vishnu, whose ministers would not tolerate the approach of any of the sectarian enemies of their faith; but the Sahoos of Nehrwalla, giving this the preference over any other site on the surface of Aboo, determined to try the effect of gold on the sovereign, or, as they allegorically say, “Lacshmi herself entered into the scheme, to gain a victory for their faith.” The bribe was high, they offered to cover as much ground as they required for their purpose with silver coin, – a temptation too powerful for the Pramara to withstand, – and, despite the anathema of the priests of Bal-Siva and Vishnu, he took the lacs of the Jain merchants. The name of the prince is not mentioned, but the date of the temples shews him to be the same sacrilegious Dharaburz, who attempted to inundate the Khar of Sacti. The merchants were not ungrateful of Lacshmi, whom they enshrined in a niche on the right hand of the entrance.