The temple of Somnat’h stood in the center of an immense quadrangular court, defended by its own lofty battlements. The subordinate shrines, which, l… - James Tod

…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.

Behold me in the vestibule of Somnat’h, the far-famed shrine of idolatry which lured “the star of Islam” from its orbit amidst the Paropamisan and Caucasus, to the sandy shores of the Indian ocean within the torrid zone; and though now but the shell of what it was, though denuded of its sikra (pinnacle), whose fragments strew the ground, divested of its majestic superstructure, and but the trunk of a once perfect form, yet from its wrecks we may judge of its pristine character. That so much has been spared, we owe to that excess of zeal, which made conquest incomplete without conversion; which transformed the mindra into the mosque, and the altar of the sun-god into a pulpit for the Moollah, whence, while yet reeking with blood, the song of victory resounded amid shouts of ‘La Illah, Mahomed Rusool Illahi,’ ‘There is but one God, and Mahomed is his prophet.’ But without is another symbol of conversion, the pinnacled minarets at the entrance of the temple, the handiwork of the Mooslem artificer, whence the Muezzin of Mahmoud called aloud on the soldiers of the Faith to give glory to God and his prophet, for the victory obtained over the infidel. Could we be assured that any spark of genuine taste and liberal feeling induced him to spare even this mutilated remnant of the days of old, we might try to veil the barbarities inflicted in the name of religion, under the spirit of chivalry which braved the varied perils encountered in her cause; for this, the twelfth expedition of Mahmoud, must be ranked amongst the hardiest enterprises which frenzied ambition, under the cloak of sanctity, ever undertook…

The little exact knowledge that Europe has hitherto acquired of the Rajput States, has probably originated a false idea of the comparative importance of this portion of Hindustan. The splendour of the Rajput courts, however, at an early period of the history of that country, making every allowance for the exaggeration of the bards, must have been great. Northern India was rich from the earliest times; that portion of it, situated on either side the Indus, formed the richest satrapy of Darius. It has abounded in the more striking events which constitute the materials for history; there is not a petty State in Rajasthan that has not had its Thermopylae, and scarcely a city that has not produced its Leonidas. But the mantle of ages has shrouded from view what the magic pen of the historian might have consecrated to endless admiration: Somnath might have rivalled Delphos; the spoils of Hind might have vied with the wealth of the Libyan king; and compared with the array of the Pandus, the army of Xerxes would have dwindled into insignificance. But the Hindus either never had, or have unfortunately lost, their Herodotus and Xenophon.