Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, or the Central and Western Rajput States of India v2.c27.s6.53

v2.c27.s6.53

Sheodān Singh. Music.—The Maharaja Sheodan Singh (whose family are heirs presumptive to the throne) was one of my constant visitors; and the title of ‘adopted brother,’ which he conferred upon me, allowed him to make his visits unreasonably long. The Maharaja had many excellent qualities. He was the best shot in Mewar; he was well read in the classic literature of his nation; deeply versed in the secrets of the chronicles, not only of Mewar but of all Rajwara; conversant with all the mysteries of the bard, and could improvise on every occasion. He was a proficient in musical science [647], and could discourse most fluently on the whole theory of Sangita, which comprehends vocal and instrumental harmony. He could explain each of the ragas, or musical modes, which issued from the five mouths of Siva and his consort Mena, together with the almost endless variations of the ragas, to each of which are allotted six consorts or raginis. He had attached to his suite the first vocalists of Mewar, and occasionally favoured me by letting them sing at my house. The chief cantatrice had a superb voice, a contralto of great extent, and bore the familiar appellation of ‘Catalani.’ Her execution of all the basant or ‘spring-songs,’ and the megh or ‘cloud-songs’ of the monsoon, which are full of melody, was perfect. But she had a rival in a singer from Ujjain, and we made a point of having them together, that emulation might excite to excellence. The chieftain of Salumbar, the chief of the Saktawats, and others, frequently joined these parties, as well as the Maharaja : for all are partial to the dance and the song, during which conversation flows unrestrained. Saadatu-lla, whose execution on the guitar would have secured applause even at the Philharmonic, commanded mute attention when he played a tan or symphony, or when, taking any of the simple tappas of Ujjain as a theme, he wandered through a succession of voluntaries. In summer these little parties were held on the terrace or the house-top, where carpets were spread under an awning, while the cool breezes of the lake gave life after the exhaustion of a day passed under 96° of Fahrenheit. The subjects of their songs are various, love, glory, satire, etc. I was invited to similar assemblies by many of the chiefs ; though none were so intellectual as those of the Maharaja. On birthdays or other festivals the chief Bardai often appears, or the bard of any other tribe who may happen to be present. Then all is mute attention, broken only by the emphatic “wah, wah!” the measured nod of the head, or fierce curl of the moustache, in token of approbation or the reverse.¹