Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, or the Central and Western Rajput States of India v2.c28.s3.42

v2.c28.s3.42

Massacre of the Chiefs.—Thus things remained, when Atmaram, the Guru or ‘ghostly comforter’ of Bijai Singh, fell sick, and as he sedulously attended him, the dying priest would tell him to be of good cheer, for when he departed, he “would take all his troubles with him.” He soon died, and his words, which were deemed prophetic, were interpreted by the Dhabhai. The Raja feigned immoderate grief for the loss of his spiritual friend, and in order to testify his veneration, an ordinance was issued commanding that the Kiryakarma, or ‘rites for the dead,’ should be performed in the castle, while the queens, on pretence of paying their last duty to his remains, descended, carrying with them the guards and retainers as their escort. It was an occasion on which suspicion, even if awake, could not act, and the chiefs ascended to join in the funeral rites to the saint. As they mounted the steps cut out of the rock which wound round the hill of Jodha, the mind of Devi Singh suddenly misgave him, and he exclaimed that “the day was unlucky”; but it passed off with the flattering remark, “you are the pillar of Maru; who dare even look at you?” They paced slowly through the various barriers, until they reached the Alarum Gate.¹ It was shut! “Treachery!” exclaimed the chief of Awa, as he drew his sword, and the work of death commenced. Several were slain; the rest were overpowered. Their captivity was a sufficient presage of their fate; but, like true Rajputs, when the Dhabhai told them they were to die, their last request was, “that their souls might be set at liberty by the sword, not by the unsanctified ball of the mercenary.” The chronicle does not say whether this wish was gratified, when the three great leaders of the Champawats, with Jeth Singh of Awa; Devi Singh of Pokaran; the lord of Harsola; Chhattar Singh, chief of the Kumpawats; Kesari Singh of Chandren; the heir of Nimaj; and the chief of Ras,² then the principal fief of the Udawats, met their fate. The last hour of Devi Singh was marked with a distinguished peculiarity. Being of the royal line of Maru, they would not spill his blood, but sent him his death-warrant in a jar of opium. On receiving it, and his prince’s command to make his own departure from life, “What!” said the noble spirit, as they presented the jar, “shall Devi [131] Singh take his *amal* (opiate) out of an earthen vessel? Let his gold cup be brought, and it shall be welcome.” This last vain distinction being denied, he dashed out his brains against the walls of his prison. Before he thus enfranchised his proud spirit, some ungenerous mind, repeating his own vaunt, demanded, “where was then the sheath of the dagger which held the fortunes of Marwar?” “In Subhala’s girdle at Pokaran,” was the laconic reply of the undaunted Chondawat.