Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, or the Central and Western Rajput States of India v2.c27.s7.t1.1

v2.c27.s7.t1.1

Leaving Udaipur.—October 11, 1819.—Two years had nearly sped since we entered the valley of Udaipur, the most diversified and most romantic spot on the continent of India. In all this time none of us had penetrated beyond the rocky barrier which formed the limit of our horizon, affording the vision a sweep of six miles radius. Each hill and dale, tower and tree, had become familiar to us; every altar, cenotaph, and shrine had furnished its legend, till tradition was exhausted. The ruins were explored, their inscriptions deciphered, each fantastic pinnacle had a name, and the most remarkable chieftains and servants of the court had epithets assigned to them, expressive of some quality or characteristic. We had our ‘Red Reaver,’ our ‘Roderic Dhu,’ and a ‘Falstaff,’ at the court; our ‘Catalani,’ our ‘Vestris,’ in the song or the ballet. We had our palace in the city, our cutter on the lake, our villa in the woods, our fairy-islands in the waters; streams to angle in, deer to [654] shoot, much, in short, to please the eye and gratify the taste:—yet did ennui intrude, and all panted to escape from the “happy valley,” to see what was in the world beyond the mountains. In all these twenty moons, the gigantic portals of Debari, which guard the entrance of the Girwa,¹ had not once creaked on their hinges for our egress; and though from incessant occupation I had wherewithal to lessen the *taedium vitae*, my companions not having such resources, it was in vain that, like the sage Imlac, I urged them not to feel dull in this “ blissful captivity ”: the scenery had become hideous, and I verily believe had there been any pinion-maker in the capital of the Sesodias, they would have essayed a flight, though it might have terminated in the lake. Never did Rasselas sigh more for escape. At length the day arrived, and although the change was to be from all that constitutes the enchantments of vision, from wood and water, dale and mountain, verdure and foliage, to the sterile plains of the sandy desert of Marwar, it was sufficient that it was change. Our party was composed of Captain Waugh, Lieutenant Carey, and Dr. Duncan, with the whole of the escort, consisting of two companies of foot and sixty of Skinner’s Horse, all alike delighted to quit the valley where each had suffered more or less from the prevalent fevers of the monsoon, during which the valley is peculiarly unhealthy, especially to foreigners, when the wells and reservoirs overflow from the springs which break in, impregnated with putrid vegetation and mineral poisons, covering the surface with a bluish oily fluid. The art of filtrating water to free it from impurities is unknown to the Rajputs, and with some shame I record that we did not make them wiser, though they are not strangers to the more simple process, adopted throughout the desert, of using potash and alum; the former to neutralize the salt and render the water more fit for culinary purposes; the latter to throw down the impurities held suspended. They also use an alkaline nut in washing, which by simply steeping emits a froth which is a good substitute for soap.¹