Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, or the Central and Western Rajput States of India v3.c43.t1.628

v3.c43.t1.628

Udaipur, March 8, 1822.—Here I am once more in the capital of Hindupati (chief of the Hindu race), from which no occurrence shall move me until I go to “eat the air” of my native land. I require repose, for the last fifteen years of my life have been one continuous tissue of toil and accident, such as are narrated in these records of a few of my many wanderings. The bow must be unbent, or it will snap, and the time for journalizing must cease with everything else under the sun. I halted a few days at Merta, and found my house nearly finished, the garden looking beautiful, the *aru* or peach-tree, the *seo* or apple, the *santara*,¹ *narangi*, and *nimbu*, or various orange and lime-trees, all in full blossom, and showing the potent influence of Surya, in these regions; the *sharifa* or *sitaphal* (fruit of Sita), or custard-apple, the *anar*, the *kela*, pomegranate, plantain, and various indigenous fruits, were all equally forward. These plants are mostly from Agra, Lucknow, or Cawnpore; but some of the finest peaches are the produce of those I planted at Gwalior,—I may say their grandchildren. When I left Gwalior in 1817, I brought with me the stones of several peach-trees, and planted them in the garden of Rang-piyari, my residence at Udaipur; and more delicious or more abundant fruit I never saw. The stones of these I again put in the new garden at Merta, and these again exhibit fruit, but it will require another year to prove whether they maintain the character they held in the plains of Raru, or in this city. The vegetables were equally thriving: I never saw finer crops of Prussian-blues,² of *kobis*, *phul-kobis*, or cabbages and cauliflowers, celery, and all that belongs to the kitchen-garden, and which my Rajput friends declare far superior to their indigenous race of *sag*, or greens; the Diwanji (Rana) has monopolized the celery, which he pronounces the prince of vegetables. I had also got my cutter for the Udaisagar, and we promised ourselves many delightful days, sailing amidst its islets and fishing in its stream. “But in all this was there vanity”: poor Carey lies under the sod; Duncan has been struggling on, and is just about to depart for the Cape of Good Hope; Patrick, who was left at Kotah, writes me dismal accounts of his health and his solitude, and I am left almost alone, the ghost of what I was. “I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour I had laboured to do; and behold all was vanity and vexation of spirit!” And such I fear will it prove with more important works than these amusements of the hour; but it were certain death to stay, and the doctor insists on my sending in ‘a sick certificate,’ and putting my house in order for [766] departure. The month of May is fixed, a resolution which has filled the Rana with grief; but he “gives me leave only for three years, and his sister, Chandji Bai, desires me to bring back a wife that she may love.”