# Report of a Tour through the Bengal Provinces/Patna

ARCHÆOLOGICAL SURVEY OF INDIA.
REPORT OF A TOUR IN THE BENGAL PROVINCES, 1872-73.
The work of this season was spread over a large extent of country, as will be evident from the length of my route, amounting in the aggregate to more than 4,500 miles, of which 1,700 were not by rail, and the rest by railway.
The districts explored more or less were the following:—
Patna, Gaya, Mongir, Bhâgalpur, Sântal Parganas, Mânbhum, Singhbhum and Birbhum, Bânkurah, Râniganj, Mirzapur, Jaunpur, Allahabad, Bardwân, and Hughli.
Over a hundred and twenty photographs have been taken to illustrate the ancient remains visited, besides the plans and sections which accompany in 21 plates.
PATNA.
This great city was anciently known by the name of Pâṭaliputrapura, or Pushpapura or Kusumapura, and although from Hwen Thsang it would appear that Pâṭaliputrapura and Kusumapura were distinct, yet they are spoken of as identical in the Mudra Râkshasa. It is perhaps possible that at the time when the Mudra Râkshasa was written (which was probably not far removed from the time when the Muhammadans established themselves in the country) the two had amalgamated into one large city, known indifferently as Pâṭaliputra or Kusumapura.
The origin of the great city is noticed in the Mahâparinibbàna Sutta (Turnour in Journal, Asiatic Society, VII, 992). It is there mentioned that on the last occasion when Buddha was going to Wesâli from Nâlanda, he came to Pâtiligâmo. where the inhabitants had built an "awasthagaran" (resthouse) in the middle of the city, as it was on the high road between Vaisâli and Râjgir. At that period two great ministers, Sunidho and Wessakaro, of the Raja of Magadha were building a "Nagaran" (citadel) there. Buddha then predicts that the village Pâtali is to become a great city, and that it is to suffer from fire, water, and treachery. The gate of the ​city in course of corstruction, through which he passes, and the ferry where he crosses, obtain the names of the Gotamo gate and Gotamo ferry.
The Barmese account, as given by Bishop Bigandet, is slightly different (Bigandet’s Life of Gandama, page 256):—
"Phra summoned again Ananda to his presence, and directed him to tell the Rahans to be ready for a voyage, as he desired to go to the village of Pâtali. When he arrived at that place, the people prepared for him the ‘dzeat’ or hall which had been erected by the order of Adzatathat. It is in the following year that the same king built the city of Pâtahbot, or Pâṭaliputra, on that same spot. In anticipation of that event, Buddha foretold that the village would become a great city, which would obtain a renowned celebrity among all other cities. Thither countless merchants would resort from all parts of Dzampoodipa. At the same time, he predicted the great calamities that would befall it. Internal discords, fire, and inundation of the Ganges would gradually work out its total destruction."
The date of the building of Pâṭaliputra as thus given in the Barmese version is the year of Buddha’s death. Ajâtasatru is there stated to have ascended the throne in the 37th year of Buddha’s public ministration, or eight years before his nirvân, thus corresponding with Turnour’s account in the Mahâwanso (page xlvii). The era, however, used in the Barmese version is called the Eetzana era; this era is there stated to have been established by Eetzana (Anjana), King of Dewaha. As Buddha was born in the 68th year of this era, it is clear that this era was established 67 years before his birth; it began on a Sunday, the 1st of the waxing moon of the month of Tajoo.
The Eetzana (Anjana) era was done away with by King Ajâtasatru in its 148th year, and a now era dating from the nirvân of Buddha established. In the third year of this era Vaisâli was conquered by Ajâtasatru.
Ajâtasatru is stated to have reigned 35 years, and died in the year 25 of the religious era; but this statement must be a mistake, for as he ascended the throne in the 37th year of Buddha’s ministry, i.e., eight years before his death, and died in the 25th year from Buddha’s nirvân, he could not have reigned over 32 years, and this corresponds with the number of years assigned to his reign from Ceylonese records, vide—Turnour, page xlvii.
Ajâtasatru was suceceded by four other kings of his race, when the people of Pâṭaliputra are stated to have revolted and set up Susinâgo as king in the year 63 of Buddha.
​This king removed the capital from Râjagriha to Vaisáli (Bigandet, page 363),—
"That monarch, not unmindful of his mother’s origin, re-established. the city of Wethali, and fixed in it the royal residence."
His successor Kálasoka is said to have removed the capital to Pâṭaliputra.
From Turnour, page xxix, it appears that for some time at least, if not the entire of Kálasoka’s reign, the capital continued to be Vaisâli. Be this as it may, it is certain that the nine Nandas reigned in Pâṭaliputra, and that it continued to be the capital of Magadha for a long but hitherto undetermined period.
In Barmah it appears that two different eras existed besides the religious era dating from Buddha’s nirvâna. One lasted 1,362 years, the last year of that era being equivalent to A. D. 1156; the other consisted of two eras succeeding and, as it were, replacing each other. The latter of the two is still in use. It began, according to Bishop Bigandet, in 639 A. D.; previous to it, another era had lasted 562 years, but as two years of these two eras overlap, that era may be considered to have virtually lasted only 560 years, making it begin in A. D. 79, and corresponding to the Indian Saka era.
This era was established in the religious year 625, or, deducting the two overlapping years, in the religious year 623, which therefore must correspond with A. D. 79. Hence year 1 A. D.=545th year of the religious era, and year 1 B. C.=544th of the religious era. Consequently the nirvâna of Buddha took place by this calculation in B. C. 544.
Comparing the Ceylon and the Barmese versions, and adopting as correct the Ceylon version of Ajâtasatru having reigned 32 years, instead of the palpably erroneous number 35 of the Barmese account, we find that as Ajâtasatru ascended the throne in the 37th year of Buddha’s ministry, i. e., eight years before his nirvân, and consequently in the year 140 of the Eetzana (Anjana) era, and he died in the year 25 of the religious era, it is clear that the total number of years of his reign can be 32, only on the supposition that the 148th year of the Anjana (Eetzana) era corresponds to the year 1 of the religious era, i. e., that there was no year 0 of the religious era.
Bishop Bigandet has B. C. 543 as the year of Buddha’s nirvâna, but as there was no year 0 A. D., I do not see ​how the year 1 of the religious era, the year of the nirvâna itself, can correspond to any but B. C. 544.
General Cunningham places the nirvâna of Buddha in 477 B. C.; Turnour adopts 543. It were much to be desired that so important a date be submitted to the most rigid scrutiny, and the causes of the discrepancies, if possible, ascertained, or at least indicated, before its final adoption. Further elucidation of this point has since appeared in Volume III of General Cunningham’s reports.
The classical accounts of Pâṭaliputra are very meagre. Strabo, on the authority of Erastosthenes (Volume III, Falconer’s and Hamilton’s Translations, page 79), states its distance from the mouths of the Ganges at 6,000 stadia, and that the river flows "past Palibothra, a very large city" (page 80). Further on (page 97), Strabo, describing Pâṭaliputra (it is supposed on the authority of Megasthenes), states that it is situated at the confluence of the Ganges and another river; that it is in length 80 stadia, and in breadth 15. It is in the shape of a parallelogram surrounded by a wooden wall pierced with openings through which arrows may be discharged. In front is a ditch which serves the purpose of defence and of a sewer for the city.
From Pliny it appears that Palibothra was situated 425 Roman miles below the junction of the Ganges and the Jamna.
Pâṭaliputra was situated on the right bank of the Ganges, and at the confluence of a large river with it. "This river was named Erranoboas according to Arrian (who had his intelligence from Megasthenes’ Journal), and was of the third degree of magnitude among Indian rivers, and inferior to none but the Ganges and the Indus" (Rennel’s Memorandum, 49).
From all these accounts and the close resemblance of name, it is clear that Palibothra and Pâṭaliputra are identical, and indeed at present there is no question about it. But it is by no means quite so clear that the Erranoboas, the Hiranyavaha and the Son are identical; on the contrary, if the city of Palibothra stood at the confluence of the Ganges and the Erranoboas, and if its site now be correctly represented by Patna, then it would appear that the Son and the Erranoboas are distinct rivers.
Both Pliny and Arrian mention the Son and the Erranaboas as distinct rivers, and this objection to their identity is so strong that it has been noticed by Professor Wilson ​(vide his Hindu Theatre, Volume II, preface to the Mudra Râkshasa; also in Turnour’s Mahâwanso, preface, appendix).
The position of Patna as being on, or at least very near, the site of Pâṭaliputra is too well established to be shaken by this, and against this position the objection is invalid. But as in the vicinity of Patna several rivers join and did join the Ganges, the argument maintains its full force against the identification of the Erranoboas with the Son; had there been but one river joining the Ganges, it would be clear that the two were both names of the same river; as it is, no less than four tributaries join and did join the Ganges not far from Patna, any one of which, except the Sarayu, would fulfil the condition of having its confluence near Patna, but one only of which at this moment rigidly fulfils the condition of having its confluence with the Ganges, not near, but at Patna, and this is the Gandak.
Mr. Ravenshaw (Journal, Asiatic Society, volume XIV, page 137) has attempted to prove by very plausible arguments that the Son and Erranoboas are identical, and the facts on which he bases his inferences are perfectly correct. A wide, light sandy expanse, now under cultivation, may be traced from a point near Saidabad viâ Bikram to Naubatpur, but from this place the traces on to Phulwâri are not those of a great river like the Son, as Mr. Ravenshaw supposes, but of a small stream; and so far from Bânkipur having once been the bed of the mighty Son, three miles in width, there is the most indubitable evidence of its never having within historical times been the bed of any river even of ordinary magnitude. A short time ago, on the occasion of a well being dug in the Bânkipur Jail, stiff clay and kankar were found down to a depth of 44 feet from the present surface. A second well, sunk at a village named Sipara on the Patna branch road, about one and a half miles south of Bânkipur, and which on reference to the map will be found to be almost in the middle of the so-called bed of the Son, had to be abandoned, as water had not been reached at a depth of about 35 feet.
The site of Bânkipur itself is indeed one of the highest points in the district, and this may be most easily verified by observing the heights of the railway embankments from Patna to the present Son Bridge: so is Dinapur; and this may indeed have been inferred from the very circumstance of these sites having been chosen for the British civil and military stations in the district. Not merely, however, are these two points high, but the whole country between, and ​also for most part of the distance between Patna and Bânkipur, is remarkably high, as proved by the railway embankments, and not a single bridge of large size occurs in the entire distance between Dinapur and Patna.
Another very strong proof is, that the outfall of the Eastern Son Canal, now in course of excavation, passes between Bânkipur and Dinapur. As this canal is meant for purposes of irrigation, it necessarily goes along the highest ground, thus clearly demonstrating that no large river like the Son could within historical times have flowed between Patna and Dinapur.
The facts on which Mr. Ravenshaw’s theory have been built are very slender; one of his bases is Rennell’s statement that
"the ancient bed of the Son is yet traceable on the south of Patna, and seems to have led into the Ganges near Fatuha."
This statement of Rennell’s is perfectly correct, but Fatuha is nearly 15 miles from Bânkipur lower down the Ganges, and the old bed of the Son which Rennell alludes to is evidently the Punpun river, 7 miles south of Bânkipur. Mr. Ravenshaw further states that Lieutenant Maxwell of the Artillery
"was successful in clearly tracing the old bed from a point on the Son near Saidâbâd (about 18 miles above Maner, the present junction of the Son and the Ganges) viá Bikram, Naubatpur, Phulwari, and Mithapur to Bânkipur, where it appears to have joined the Ganges about 200 yards west from the Golah."
The Golah referred to is one of the highest spots in Bânkipur, and an examination of the stratification of the river banks, which here frequently stand in high cliffs, shows clearly that no large river joined the Ganges near this point. The evidence of the well in the Bânkipur Jail shows that it could not have been at that spot, so that if ever the Son joined the Ganges at Bânkipur, it must have done so between the Golah and the Jail. It is needless to add that the mighty Son could never have been confined between these limits, especially at its delta.
Having thus disposed of Mr. Ravenshaw’s identification, hitherto generally accepted to such an extent that even General Cunningham considers the Son to represent the Greek Erranoboas, it will not be uninteresting if I make some suggestions as to the old course of the Son, so far as I can from my own personal observations, assisted by information and opinions derived from other professional engineers. ​To show that my opinion is fairly entitled to some consideration, I may mention that for a year and half I was employed as an engineer in the Patna, Gaya, and Bihar districts, and consequently have had opportunities of making myself acquainted with the engineering features of the country. According to my observations then made, and information from competent authority, I consider that at some remote period the Son flowed in a south-east course from the present village of Tarârh near Dâu̇dnagar, passing close to the villages of Rámpur-Chai and Kayal, and not far from the great plain (Tanr) of Deokund or Deokurh, as it is indiscriminately pronounced by the people. Tarârh or Tartârah in Hindustani means the high bank of a river, and the name clearly refers to the village having once been on the high banks of a river. Immediately close to Tarârh and between it and Dâu̇dnagar, recent excavations and works for the Son Canal have proved the country to have been once the bed of a great river; extensive pieces of water still exist, both at Chai and at Kayal, the remains probably of the old Son. At Deokund an annual fair or mela is held. From Kayal I consider it probable that the Son continued in a north-east direction, entering the bed of the present Punpun at the village of Son-Bhadr.
Son-Bhadr is a great place of pilgrimage, and although the village of Son-Bhadr is not now a place of pilgrimage, I have ascertained by long and patient enquiry from varidus people that Son-Bhadr is the name given to the ford or ferry where pilgrims to Gaya (from the west) have to cross the Son; the name is now applied to a part of the Son near the present Grand Trunk Road, where pilgrims halt to bathe, and make offerings to the pitris, and this offering here is considered the first or initiatory step to the fulfilment of the pilgrimage to Gaya. The present Son-Bhadr is not entered in the best map extant, as it is not now a mouzah but merely a ghât; but the Son-Bhadr village alluded to above is an actual village situated on the banks of the Punpun. I cannot give the etymology of the name with certainty, but I think it not improbable that it is derived from the words Sona and Bhadra, meaning the "auspicious Sona." Sona means "red, to become red," and the name may originally have been ​applied to the Son from the circumstance that at some parts of its course the waters of the Son appear to be tinged red. This is the popular belief at this day, and the correctness of this belief has been vouched for by native pilgrim travellers, and has been doubtless handed down by tradition from the earliest times, for we have in the Râtmfâyana (Griffith’s Translation, Vol. IV, Book IV, Canto XL, page 197):—
"And Sona’s waters swift and strong, With ruddy billows foam along."
Since writing this, I have had an opportunity of testing the correctness of the native tradition. The Son rises in the highlands of Amarkantak, and flows through a country possessing a reddish gravelly soil. In the floods the river necessarily brings down large volumes of the red dust and sand, which it deposits in the deeper pools. In the cold season this deposit, seen through the clear waters, gives a distinct tinge of red to the water—see my report for 1873-74.
From Son-Bhadr, the Son in olden times appears to have flowed in what is now the bed of the Punpun as far as Sigori, a small village close to the Punpun near Chandhos Buzurg, where an annual fair is held and offerings to the pitris made by numerous pilgrims as at Son-Bhadr and Gaya. Prom here it, or at least a branch, appears to have taken a course due east, crossing over from the bed of the present Punpun river to the bed of the present Murhar river. The country at and for several miles about this place, and between these two rivers, shows the unmistakeable traces of having once been the bed of a mighty river, much mightier than the Punpun; from here it flowed in the bed of the present Murhar river till it finally joined the Ganges at Fatuha.
In parts of the bed of the Murhar river, and on its banks for some distance inland, are found rounded pebbles, precisely similar to the well-known pebbles of the Son. So close is the resemblance, that it has struck every one who has given any thought to it. Native tradition, unable to account for the appearance of these remarkable pebbles in the Murhar, has placed faith in a silly story, which relates that on a certain occasion, when the marriage procession of a baniya was passing, there were many guests and much pomp, and food consisting of unbaked dough ready rolled into balls and flattish cakes was abundantly provided for the guests, to be baked and distributed at their halting place. A fakir went up and begged as alms a share of it; in reply ​to his entreaty, they said to him, “None of us have yet eaten; do you want stones to eat?” Thereupon the irate fakir departed, saying, “May all your food turn into stones!” and the pebbles that now occur there and thereabouts are the petrified flour-balls and cakes.
It is possible that a portion of the Son waters crossed over the intervening country at Masouri Buzurg and Sándá, and fell into the bed of the present Dardha. Certain it is that an immense valley of sand stretches on from Masouri across the present road (from Patna to Gaya), and it has been found necessary to provide a great deal of waterway, by numerous and long viaducts, to pass off the spill-water which to this day rushes across this point in the rains.
I close my observations as an engineer on the old course of the Son by an extract of a letter to me from Mr. M. P. B. Duell, the Engineer of the Patna Division, an officer whose knowledge of the engineering features of this portion of the country has been obtained during an active employment of twelve years in charge of the Patna and Gaya Divisions, during which, for the purpose of ascertaining the waterways necessary at various points of the road in construction by him, he has examined the country with great minuteness and attention. Referring to the Son, he says—
"I believe it wandered from its present channel between Urwul and Dâüdnagar, crossed the Patna branch road nmth of Masouri, entered the Punpun, and thence flowed partly into the Ganges at Futwah, and partly along the course of the Maithwan nuddy towards Mongir."
When the Râmâyana was composed, the course of the Son must have been as I have suggested, as will presently appear.
When Viswamitra asked Dasaratha and obtained the assistance of his son Râmâ to protect his sacrifices, they journeyed along the Sarayu for two days, crossed it on the third, and the same day Tádaká was killed by Râmâ. On the fourth day they reached Viswamitra’s hermitage; from here they went north to Mithila, “and then the mighty saint set forth and took his journey to the north.” (Griffith’s Râmâyana, I, p. 158.)
At the close of the first day’s journey from Viswamitra’s hermitage they halted on the banks of the Son; here Viswamitra, addressing Râmâ in reply to his inquiries, says—
"And Vasu bade his city fair, The name of Girivraja bear. ​This fertile spot whereon we stand, Was once the high-souled Vasu’s land. Behold as round we turn our eyes,
Clearly showing that from the banks of the Son where they rested, the Râjgir mountains were visible. From no part of the banks of the present course of the Son are the Râjgir hills visible; neither are they visible from Patna; but from the point where I have indicated the Son to have entered the bed of the present Murhar river, the mountains of Râjgir are visible and continue visible for a good distance down—certainly down to where the Murhar crosses the Patna branch road.
(Griff. Râm., Vol. I, page 170.) In the morning Râmâ asks,—
"Here fair and deep the Sona flows, And many an isle its bosom shows. What way, O saint, will lead us o’er, And land us on the further shore?"
To which Viswamitra replies,—
"The way I choose, Is that which pious hermits use."
And crossing the Son, they reach the banks of the Ganges that evening, showing clearly that the road from Viswamitra’s hermitage to Vaisâli crossed the Son. Next day crossing the Ganges, they go to Vaisâli.
The point where Râmâ crossed the Ganges to go to Vaisâli and on to Mithila is well known traditionally; it is at the junction of the Ganges and the Gandak, and is known as Râmbhadr; and as the old high road from Vaisâli southwards crossed the Ganges here, as proved by Buddhist writings (see supra on the foundation of Patna), the tradition which associates Râmbhadr with Râmâ’s journey is countenanced. Râmâ therefore crossed the Ganges at Patna. A glance at the map will show that if the Son flowed then in the course it follows now, Râmâ could not only not have seen the Râjgir hills from its banks, but could have got to Patna (then not in existence) without crossing the Son, for, as he with Viswamitra journeyed northwards to Vaisâli, they must have started from a point south or nearly south of Patna, and consequently on the eastern banks of the Son, and their route to Vaisâli would not have crossed the Son at all; and even if we adopt Mr. Ravenshaw’s line of th old Son, Râmâ ​not only would have got to Patna without crossing the Son, but could not have seen the Râjgir hills from any point on its banks. The course suggested by me, however, fulfils all the conditions.
It may not be amiss to note that the marches of Râmâ on this occasion, as detailed in the Râmâyana, are such as could easily have been accomplished. The distance from Ayodhya to the junction of the Sarayu and the Ganges is 170 miles taken in a straight line; but there are strong reasons for supposing that, in ancient times, the Sarayu joined the Ganges higher up, which would reduce the distance. However that may be, 170 miles in two days is no impossible or improbable feat, if we suppose, as suppose we must, that the king’s son did not walk on foot the whole of the way, but rode. Thence to Viswamitra’s hermitage is only a day’s journey, for though it took Râmâ two days to do it, most part of one day was consumed in fighting with Tádaká, and they reached the place on the second day in time for Viswamitra to begin the initiatory rites that very day. (Griff. Râm., Vol. I, page 152.)
"Begin, O best of saints, we pray, Initiatory rites to-day. Then thus addressed the holy man, The very glorious sage began The high preliminary rite."
On the return journey, however, Râmâ and Viswamitra were accompanied by several of Viswamitra’s pupils and holy old anchorites—men who from age or weakness could not be supposed to sustain much fatigue. We find now that on the third day after starting from the hermitage, Râmâ travelled only 26 miles or so, viz., from the Ganges crossing, to Vaisâli, two well-known and fixed points; this is perfectly natural. Assuming now that Râmâ travelled at this rate the two previous days also, and working backwards, we shall obtain for his halting place, on the first day, the very point on the banks of the old Son whence the Râjgir hills first become visible, as I have pointed out before; and for the site of Viswamitra’s hermitage, some point 25 miles or 30 miles at most, south, or nearly south, from the first day’s halting point on the suggested banks of the old course of the Son. This distance will bring us almost exactly to Deokund or Deokur, a place where, as noticed above, an annual fair or mela is held, and which is held in great veneration.
The name of Viswamitra’s hermitage I find to have ​been Siddhâsrạma, which Griffith has translated in his Râmâyana as the “perfect hermitage.” It is remarkable that close to Deokund, on the banks of the Punpun river, is a village named Siddhrâmpur. So strong a similarity of names, combined with such close identity in position, justifies the inference that this is the position of Viswamitra’s hermitage. At all events, the place is clearly somewhere between it and Deokund, where the mela is held.
Reverting now to the journey of Râmâ from Ayodhya to the confluence of the Sarayu and the Ganges, we find that, assuming it to have had its junction in those days where it has now, Râmâ travelled about 75 miles daily; but, as stated before, this distance must be diminished if, as is probable, the junction was higher up. The distance from Viswamitra’s hermitage at Siddhrâmpur to the Ganges is actually about 70 miles, of which only a small portion was travelled on the first day, when Tádaká was killed in the great forest. It is remarkable that just about 50 miles from Deokund and 20 from the Ganges, near Bihia station, an extensive forest still exists, which may accordingly, with great plausibility, be identified with the Tádaká forest.
The only link wanting to complete the chain of evidence regarding the identifications proposed, is the want of all mention of the crossing of the Son before reaching Viswamitra’s hermitage. This may be merely due to there being nothing remarkable about it worth noting or needing mention.
Let us see now what light the Mahábhárata throws on the old course of the Son (Sabha Parva, chap. 20, ver. 24 et seq.)—
"They, Krishna, Arjuna and Bhima Sena, departing from Kurudeça and passing through Kurujangala, arrived at the beautiful Padmasarovara (or lotus lake); then passing beyond (or surmounting) Kalakuta, and gradually crossing the everflowing Gandaki, Carkarávartta (stony bedded), and a mountain torrent, proceeded. Crossing the pleasing Sarayu, and seeing the whole of the eastern Koçaladesa, they marched through Mithila and Malla and crossed the Charmanvati river; then crossing the Ganges and the Sona, these three brave men of unwearied courage, clothed in cloth of the Kusa grass, turning eastwards, arrived at the boundary of the Magadha kingdom."
The above extract first states that the Pándava brothers with Krishna crossed the Gandak and the Çarkarávartta and a mountain stream. The next passage states in greater detail what they did. Crossing the Sarayu, they saw Eastern Koçala, then they saw Mithila and Malla. No doubt this is ​a very roundabout way of going from Indraprastha to Râjagriha, but we must not lose sight of the object with which they went; this was no less than the death of the great Raja Jarâsandha, and it is only reasonable that, instead of going madly to certain destruction, as they would had they gone direct and unsupported, they should first visit the neighbouring princes of East Koçala and Mithila in order to obtain their assistance and support. Hence there is not only nothing improbable in their going viâ East Koçala and Mithila to Râjagriha, but it was the course indicated by sound policy.
So far we have traced their course to Mithila; next we find them going from Mithila to Râjagriha; in doing so, we see they cross the Ganges and the Sona. To understand their route, let us turn to Hwen Thsang’s route long years afterwards. He went from Vaisâli near the Gandak to Mithila, then to Lalita Patan, and returned by the same route to Vaisâli in order to go to Patna and Râjagriha. Hwen Thsang’s route leads clearly to the inference that the usual road from Mithila to Râjagriha went viâ Vaisâli and Patna; this is rather a detour, but roads then were neither numerous nor well, if at all, looked after. The Pándavas, then, in going from Mithala to Râjagriha, evidently followed the same route, doubtless for similar reasons. Therefore they crossed the Ganges at Patna, which we certainly know was a well-known crossing as early as the time of Râmâ, and continued so to the time of Buddha, when the city was not in existence, and down to the present day.
Having crossed the Ganges at Patna, they are represented as crossing the Son to go to Râjagriha; this clearly shows that the Son then flowed between Patna and Râjagriha,—that is, in the course I have indicated before.
The mention here of the Charmanvati, usually identified with the Chambal, is very puzzling. It certainly cannot mean the Chambal; and I can only suppose the name to have got in either by mistake, or as being the name of some one of the small streams near Mithila. The absence of all qualifying epithet for it, as in the case of the Gandaki and the Sarayu, tends to favour the last supposition.
While, however, I suggest what appears to me to have been the course of the Son at the time when the Râmâyana and Mahábhárata were written, I must not omit to mention that the shifting of the Son westwards is not what would have been expected considering the general lie or declivity ​of the country. This declivity appears to be in a north-east direction, for the area extends in length from Patna to Lakhiserai, and in breadth about 30 miles south of and parallel to the Ganges. Within this limit the various rivers, but most especially those in the vicinity of Bihar, have for a long time past shown a decided tendency to work eastwards,—so much so, that artificial cuts, intended for irrigation, taken from the right or east bank of the various rivers, have in almost all cases enlarged beyond control, absorbing the entire discharge during the rains, allowing but a small portion of the flood discharge to pass down the natural old beds. The result of this state of things has in several instances proved doubly disastrous: 1st, by depriving the tracts along the west banks of the natural water-courses of their fair supply of water; and, 2ndly, sending an excessive volume down the artificial irrigation channels, to the destruction of the crops on their banks and of the banks themselves, thus entailing permanent loss of valuable land. When employed as an engineer in the district, I devoted much attention to the remedying of these evils, but I was too soon removed, and my schemes, approved of then, have not since received attention.
Independent of this tendency of the rivers to work eastwards, the diurnal rotation of the earth must tend to throw the water of all rivers flowing from the equator towards the poles of the earth against the right or east banks, and although the amount of the force thus brought to bear against the right banks is very minute, it is constantly at work. In obedience to both these tendencies, so far from expecting the Son to have worked westwards, we should expect it to work eastwards; but so many different circumstances are capable of producing an opposite result, that it need excite no wonder to find the Son working westwards, and I have no doubt that if sufficient time and attention could be bestowed on the subject, the cause which in the particular instance of the Son did produce the results as they exist could be definitely ascertained.
I must also notice a remarkable fact observed by General Cunningham and communicated to me, that the surface of the country in many parts of the district of Arrah is frequently composed of sand of the Son and not of the Ganges, tending thus to show that at one time the Son had flowed west of its present course. Too little, however, of facts, as regards the determination of this point, has hitherto been ​observed to warrant any opinions being definitely formed on the subject. I merely notice it as a remarkable fact, which may at a future period prove valuable. In connection with this point, I notice, as suggested by General Cunningham, that the name of the river which now flows immediately west of Arrah is Banás; the Sanscrit Parnâça and Parna Vâha could very well have been converted by the Greeks to Erranoboas.
I notice also, as suggested by General Cunningham, the close connection between the name of the river and of Banâsur, who figures so largely in the legends of Arrah, which General Cunningham has lately proved by ingenious and convincing arguments to be the famous Eka Chakra of the Mahábhárata, and the “Alow” of Buddhist writings. The name Erranoboas, however, as applied to the river whose confluence with the Ganges was at Pâṭaliputra, could not have been applied to any except the Gandak, as will be shown further on.
That a great volume of the waters of Son once flowed down the Banâs appears from the Mahábhárata (Sabha Parva, chap. 9) describing the assembly of Varuna. There we find, among the rivers mentioned, the “Mahanada Sona,” and the “Mahanadi Parnáça.” The drainage basin of the Banâs being too small, even by any possibility, to procure for the river draining it alone the title of “Mahanadi” or great river, it is clear that it must have derived the great volume of water which, flowing down it, could alone have procured for it the title of great, from the Sona, which to this day communicates with it. A great part of the Son then must, at the time of the Mahábhárata, have flowed down the present Banâs river, though the Son no longer sends any great volume of water down it.
It has been shown that at one period the Son flowed east of its present course down the bed of the Punpun river, joining the Ganges at Fatuha. It has further been shown that this was its course when the Râmâyana was written. It now remains to trace the changes in its course at other different times.
In the Buddhist writings it is stated that the vessel with which the relics of Buddha were measured out, after his cremation, was retained by the Brahman, who erected a stûpa over it on the banks of a river. The Brahman is in the Barmese account named Dauna, but from other sources it appears that the vessel used in the division of the relics ​was a Drona measure, and this is doubtless the correct version of the legend. Be this as it may, a stûpa was erected over it by a private individual, and that individual a Brahman. What the Drona measure was exactly, it is now difficult to ascertain, but that it certainly was a very small measure can be seen at once from the Mahábhárata (Adi Parva, 11th section, entitled Chaitraratha, 2nd chapter, 4th couplet), in which the birth of Drona, the son of Bhâradwaja, is detailed. Decency compels me not to insert the passage.
I pause a moment to remark that from this account it appears clear that certainly at this period no great ill-feeling appears to have existed between Brahmans and Buddhists; a great deal has been said regarding the ill-feeling between them; and Brahmans are said to have burned the temples and hunted the Buddhist priests with malignant hatred, and the discovery of charred remains in the course of excavations at Sârnâth has without due consideration been taken as evidence that the work of destruction was perpetrated by Brahmans. But I desire to point out that the very fact of victuals, ready-dressed, and uneaten, found in the Sârnâth ruins, is the strongest proof that the attack on the monasteries was most sudden, and I submit that an attack of such a sudden nature could not have been planned by the Brahmans of the place. Buddhist monasteries are well known to contain usually several hundreds of monks, and such a monastery as that at Sârnâth was least likely to have the fewest number of occupants. To attack and burn it successfully would need a large force well armed, and it would be no easy task for a mob, suddenly roused as in popular tumults, to attack and sack the great monastery. We must therefore look to other agents for the destruction of those monasteries. Those agents are not difficult to ascertain.
I quote Elliot’s India, Vol. II, page 113, describing the exploits of Ahmad Nialtigin, General of Masaúd; the author of the Târikha Subuktigin says—
"He crossed the river Ganges and went down the left bank unexpectedly (‘nagah’); he arrived at a city which is called Banâras, and which belonged to the territory of Gang. Never had a Muhammadan army reached this place. The city was two parasangs square, and contained plenty of water. The army could only remain from morning to mid-day prayer, because of the peril. The markets of the drapers, perfumers and jewellers were plundered, but it was impossible to do more. The people of the army became rich, for they all carried off gold, silver, perfumes and jewels, and got back in safety.”
​This happened in A. D. 1033 (Elliot’s India, Vol. II, page 58).
Here then is an account of an attack so daring and unexpected that it is hardly rivalled by the attacks of Bakhtiâr Khilji on Bihâr and Nadiya, at a later period; how Bihâr fared at Muhammadan hands may be inferred from the circumstance that when a Pandit was sought to read the books which were found during the sack of the city, not one could be found, as they had all been killed! Need it be wondered then that in this attack of Banâras as much damage as could possibly have been inflicted on the city was unsparingly inflicted? In such sudden attacks it is the large houses and temples which would be especially sought out, as being likely to yield most wealth with least search. Mahmud’s expeditions to India a few years before had taught Muhammadan soldiers where most booty was to be obtained, and they no doubt profited by it in this instance, although the account quoted makes no distinct mention of temples attacked.
Reverting now to the main subject, the changes in the course of the Son, I notice that Hwen Thsang proceeded 100 li, or about 17 miles, to the south-east (from the asylum stûpa at Arrah) to another stûpa, which was reputed to have been built by the Brahman Drona over the vessel with which he measured the relics of Buddha.
Remembering that the stûpa was built by a private individual, it could neither have been very large nor magnificent, and the total silence of Hwen Thsang regarding its appearance and size confirms the supposition that there was nothing remarkable about it. As it was built by a Brahman, the name given to it would probably be Brahmanical.
The site of the asylum stûpa has lately been identified by General Cunningham with Arrah, and I refer to his writings for the proofs. Taking measurements and bearings from Arrah as the site of the asylum stûpa, the site of the Drona stûpa falls somewhere in the vicinity of Bhartpura.
If then the Son flowed in the course indicated by me at the time of Buddha’s nirvâna, and if Hwen Thsang’s bearing and distance be correct, there ought to exist at this day traces of Buddhist remains there or thereabouts. To ascertain this I examined the country about Bhartpura with minute attention, and my labours were soon rewarded by the discovery of a small stûpa at Bhagwânganj, and the remains of temples at other villages in the vicinity.
The stûpa at Bhagwânganj is a low circular mound of ​brick, about 35 or 40 feet in diameter, and a maximum height of about 20 feet above the country. It is built entirely of large bricks set in mud; the bricks measure 12 inches by more than 14 inches, are all set in fine mud cement, and are all horizontal. In the centre, at the top of the mound, a square socket-hole appears to have existed, one side of which and part of a second still exist entire. It was about 18 inches square. Close to this mound, and almost touching it, are several others, oblong and round, but smaller; these are also all of brick, but the bricks are not set in solid even layers, as in the principal mound; they are irregular, and the mounds appear to be merely the ruins of structures, temples probably.
The main mound is clearly a stûpa, as evidenced not only by the even horizontal layers of bricks solidly composing it, but, as if to obviate all chance of misconception, part of the socket-hole itself, where no doubt the tee, or umbrella, was set up, still exists. From the size of the bricks, and still further from the proportion of height of the stûpa to its diameter, according to the law discovered by General Cunningham, there can be no doubt that it is one of the earliest yet discovered. That the low height as compared with the base is not due to the destruction of the upper courses, is proved by the hole at the summit still existing. I accordingly identify this stûpa with that erected over the vessel with which Buddha’s relics were measured.
The name of the village is Bhagwânganj, and remembering that the stûpa was built by a Brahman, this name is very appropriate,—that is, the name is as old as the stûpa. This stûpa accordingly would date to the 6th century before Christ.
Let us now see how the position thus assigned to the Drona stûpa will agree with Hwen Thsang’s subsequent route to Vaisâli. He went in a north-east direction, 23 or 25 miles from the stûpa, to Vaisâli (Cunningham, Geog. Anc. Ind., p. 443), and he crossed the Ganges on the road. General Cunningham suggests that the Ganges is a mistake for the Gandak, but in going from the asylum as just identified by me to Vaisâli, he must have crossed the Ganges; the direction, too, is correct enough, but the distance is 25 miles to the Ganges, and not to Vaisâli, and another 25 miles to Vaisâli. I consider, therefore, that the distance given by Hwen Thsang refers to the distance from the asylum stûpa to the Ganges, which having been crossed, he proceeded to Vaisâli (another 25 miles).
​Since the foregoing was written, General Cunningham has sent me a literal rendering of the passage of Hwen Thsang in question. His words are,—“on parting from this kingdom he crossed the Ganges to the north-east, made from 140 to 150 li, and arrived at the kingdom of Vaisâli.” Clearly the 140 or 150 li refers to the distance of Vaisâli from the Ganges; and so the accordance with my views is perfect.
Not far from the stûpa flows the Punpun river. Along its banks, at about 2 miles from Bhagwânganj, near a small village, are the remains of a stone and brick temple about 40 feet square: only a part of the basement of the temple, marked by a line of moulded stones, exists: the stone is granite roughly dressed into a plain moulding.
A mile or mile and a half further north aloiig the Punpun is a large mound about 45 feet square and 25 feet high. This was once a temple. The bricks in all these are of large size, and the cement used mud; but in the last, along with the large bricks, small ones also are now found, and remains of lime and mortar: the positions of the smaller bricks, however, are such as clearly to show that they did not enter into the construction of the original temple. A few misshapen stones and fragments now occupy the summit of the mound, and are devoutly worshipped by libations of milk and offerings by the Muhammadans of the adjacent village Bihta. (This is not the Bihta on the East Indian Railway which General Cunningham commissioned me to examine, as stated in his Report, Vol. III, but quite another village about 25 miles south of it.)
Tradition ascribes these mounds and others too numerous to detail (all, however, close about this spot) to a Muhammadan saint named Makhdun Sâh; and, absurd as it may appear, the mounds at Bihta and Bhagwânganj are both said to be his tombs or dargâhs, while all the other mounds are his asthâns.
I should have excavated the mound at Bhagwânganj but for the circumnstance that the people would not hear of the mound of the dargâh of their saint being dug into, and although I noticed and pointed out holes in the sides of the main mound where bricks bad been dug and carried away, it did not in any way make the people more favourable to my designs, and I was forced to he content with noticing the exterior so far as I could, and the portions of interior disclosed by the holes already dug in the sides.
Nothing could be more complete and convincing than the ​evidence thus furnished by the existence of this stûpa, of the course of the Son, at the time it was built. Although the Buddhist accounts do not name the river on whose banks the stûpa was built, there can be no doubt it was a large river to deserve mention at all. The Punpun is a small river which discharges a small sluggish stream at all seasons except the rains, when it is swelled to a great size by rain and by the spill-waters of the Son (which breaking through the embanked road now running along its eastern banks, and pouring through the openings left in it, sends part of its spill-waters down its old bed to this day), and would hardly have deserved mention at all in the meagre account (if a bare mention can be so called) which the Buddhist writings furnish of the stûpa over the measuring vessel.
It appears then that from unknown antiquity down to the period of Buddha’s nirvâna, the Son flowed in the channel I have indicated, joining the Ganges at Fatuha.
Let us now attempt to trace its subsequent changes.
In A. D. 630 to 640, when Hwen Thsang visited India, he went to the stûpa built over the measuring vessel, which was on the banks of a river. As he does not mention having crossed a river, it appears not unreasonable to infer that no large river intervened between Arrah and the stûpa. Against this supposition, however, is the circumstance that he does not mention crossing any large rivers, except the Lilâjan, on his way from Patna to Gaya, so that his silence leaves the point undecided.
The next mention of the Son is in the Mudra Râkhshasa, Wilson’s Hindu Theatre, where the son and successor of the King of the Mountains, leading an army against Pâtaliputra, says—
"Then let us march, our mighty elephants Shall drink the Son’s dark waves, and echo back The roaring of its waters; spread though the groves That shade its bordering fields intenser gloom And faster than the undermining torrent Hurl its high banks into the hailing stream. Then rolling onwards like a line of clouds
That girts in rain and thunder Vindhya’s peaks Environ with portentious storm the city And lay its proud walls level with the ground."
From this passage it is clear that the Son then flowed to the west of Patna, and had to be crossed before an ​invading army from the west or north-west could attack Patna. But beyond this obvious inference there is another very important one. The passage describes the Son as a roaring torrent confined by high banks, which it was undermining by the fierce rapidity of its current—a description which is quite at variance with the character of the Son at the present day. Now, the Son in the cold season, the field season in India, is a very peaceful broad stream, as different from the roaring torrent as it is possible to be; and even in the rains, except in rare floods and at particular parts, it is a mighty stream, but not a roaring and boiling torrent. The description of the Son refers to the month of October or November; for Málayá Ketu, the young Mountain King, is represented as giving vent to his hopes and joyful feelings at the apparent quarrel between Chandragupta, the King of Patna, and Chanakya, his minister. This quarrel took place on the day of full moon of autumn, on which for some festival the city had to be decorated. (Vide Wilson’s Hindu Theatre, II, 191.)
"Below is Ganga by the autumn led Fondly impatient to her ocean lord."
And again—
"What, ho! Warders of the Susanya palace, prepare the apartments for the reception of His Majesty, who is coming hither to view from the lofty turrets, the city decorated as suits the festival of the autumnal full moon."
The only great festival hold on a full moon in autumn is in the I full moon of Kârtik, which falls in October or November, and at this time neither the Son nor other Indian rivers are in high flood.
The description, therefore, implies that at that time the Son was not flowing tranquil in a wide sandy bed, but in a narrow channel with high banks—circumstances which, taken in connection with the fact of the Son having bad a different course before, clearly indicate the channel spoken of having only recently become the bed off the Son. It might be argued that as the Mudra Râkshasa describes events happening in the reign of Chandragupta, the change in the course of the Son must have taken place shortly before, and consequently that Hwen Thsang must have found the Son running in its present channel. To this the answer is very simple. The leading incidents on which the play has been based were handed down by tradition, or, ​perhaps, in the form of a brief summary; while the details have all been added by the author of the play, who, as Professor Wilson conjectures, lived about the time of the Muhammadan invasions. Naturally, in composing the details, the author would be guided by the existiug features of the country whenever they entered into the plot; precisely as, in ascribing fabulous antiquity to various personages, the Hindus have yet recorded their birth, or some great action of theirs, as having taken place under certain conjunctions and positions of the heavenly bodies which could not have taken place at the time indicated, but which doubtless took place at the time the book describing the event was composed. This furnishes a means of arriving at a rough approximation of the dates of various compositions, and it has ere now been largely made use of by many writers; though not always used with the necessary caution, the method is unexceptionable. In the present instance, had any hint been conveyed in the play, or elsewhere, that it was an adaptation of a written record in existence before, I should have had to examine carefully whether such pre-existing account was or was not likely to describe transactions in such detail as to fix the position of the River Son; but as there is no such hint or mention, and the plot of the play bears on the face of it marks of having been a production of the author’s imaginative or inventive powers, such examination, as I have above indicated, becomes needless and indeed impossible. Professor Wilson, on the plot of this play, page 127, Volume II, says “although there is occasionally some want of probability in their execution,” clearly showing that in his opinion the details of the play have been produced by the author’s ingenuity and imaginative powers.
It is then clear that the change in the course of the Son took place shortly before or at the period of the great Muhammadan invasions, when the author of the Mudra Râkhshasa flourished.
After this time mentions of the Son are frequent, and with it is often mentioned Maner, a small town at its junction with the Ganges. Maner appears to have been founded by the Muhammadans, and was the capital of a parganah named "Maner Sheikh Yahya" (Elliot’s India, page 364). His name is clearly Muhammadan, which induces me to suppose that the parganah comprised waste or newly formed lands, which had no name before, not having been in existence. I suppose the circumstances to have been these: ​When the Son flowed down its old channel joining the Ganges at Fatuha, the Ganges ran close past Arrah. Indeed, from a passage in the Mahábhárata, where the sojourn of the Pándavas in Ekachakra, now Arrah, is detailed, the Ganges is implied to have been not far of. When, however, the Son began flowing down its new channel, the natural result of the new force brought to bear on the waters of the Ganges at the junction would be to push the Ganges over to the north, thus gradually producing a large tract of newly formed land at the junction of the rivers. That the country now between the Ganges and Arrah was once the bed of the Ganges is sufficiently well established by the nature of its soil.
Contemporaneously with this pushing northwards of the Ganges at Arrah by the force of the Son there newly brought to bear on it, the withdrawal of the force from the Ganges at Fatuha would produce a reaction tending to send the Ganges southwards at that point, for the balance of forces which maintained the Ganges in its original course being destroyed by the withdrawal of the Son current (pushing northwards), the sum of the other forces, combined with the reflected force of the Son current from the north or opposite bank of the Ganges facing Dinapur, would cause the Ganges to work southwards. That the Ganges has worked a great space southwards all the way from Patna to Bakhtyarpur, i. e., on both sides of Fatuha as a central point, will be apparent from a glance at the map of the country; the greatest deflection being, as might be expected, just opposite Fatuha. I have not enough of facts to support my theory to the extent that would render it invincible to attacks, but the facts detailed exist beyond all question; and the theory I have propounded offers the simplest and most rational solution and explanation of the phenomena, at the same time fixing the limit of time at which the process of change commenced.
So far then as can now be ascertained, it appears that, through some unknown cause the Son abandoned its original bed and took its present course some little time before the Muhammadan conquest, and that contemporaneously with this change a large tract of newly formed land was thrown up between Arrah and the Ganges, while on the other hand a large portion of the south banks of the Ganges from Patna to Fatuha was cut away by the Ganges.
Accordingly, as Pâṭaliputra occupied the south banks of ​the Ganges before the change of the course of the Son, all or almost all traces of the ancient city must long since have been swept away by the Ganges.
In strong but in direct corroboration of my supposition, that Pâṭaliputra had been cut away by the Ganges, even so early as Bakhtiâr Khilji’s invasions of Bengal, I need only point to the entire silence of the Muhammadan historians regarding it and its immense fort, public buildings, &c. Bakhtiâr Khilji could not possibly have left the great fort of Pâṭaliputra in his rear while advancing on Bihâr, and he certainly did not besiege or take it. What then had become of it? No mention occurs of any fort, great or small, at or near Patna till Shir Shah’s period, when he is recorded to have erected the fort of Patna at a small village of that name; and this detailed account (noticed below) does not even allude to a fort or the ruins of one as existing at the village of Patna.
The portions of the old city likely to have escaped would have been the southern outskirts. Modern Patna consequently does not stand on the site of old Pâṭaliputra, but very close to it, the old city having occupied what is now the bed of the Ganges, and perhaps part of the great island between Patna and Hajipur on the opposite side of the river.
I shall subsecquently examine and detail the traces of the ancient Pâṭaliputra that still exist, but before doing so I proceed to show that by Erranoboas the Greeks meant the Gandak.
First as to the word itself. Erranoboas has hitherto been considered to represent the Sanskrit Hiranyavaha or Hiranyabâha, while the Gandak has been supposed to have been rendered in Greek into Condochates.
That Hiranyabâha was a name of the Son depends solely on the authority of Amara Kosha, as far as I am aware, and General Cunningham derives the name from the broad yellow sands, and imagines some connection between the names Hiranyabâha, Sona, or golden, and the broad yellow sands; but I have already shown that the name Sona refers to the red colour of the waters of the Son, and has nothing to do with gold, whereas Hiranyabâha clearly means gold-bearing. The two names consequently have nothing in common, nor do I remember ever hearing of the Son as in any way connected with gold; but the Gandak river, in Sanskrit “the great Gandaki,” appears connected in some way with gold,—see Beal’s Catena of Buddhist Scr., page 137, where the Gandak is called the golden ​river. Mr. Beal, however, in the note appended, confounds the Gandaki or modern Gandak with the Hiranyavati, apparently considering them names of the same river; this, however, is not so; the Hiranyavati is the modern Hirana or Chhota Gandak river,—see Cunningham's Geog., page 432; and from the Mahábhárat it further appears that the names Hiranyavati and Gandaki did not apply to the same river, as both names occur in the list of rivers, and, to make assurance doubly sure, the Gandak has the qualifying epithet of "great" attached to it; the inference then is that the names Hiranayavati and Gandaki were always applied to distinct rivers.
But if Hiranyavati be a name of the Chhota Gandak (and of this there is no doubt), there appears not only nothing impossible, but the probabilities are strongly in favour of the great Gandaki being named the Hiranyavaha; for if one of the rivers were gold-bearing, the other could not well avoid being gold-hearing also, the smaller river being merely a branch of the latter.
Whether the Chhota Gandak at any time had an independent course to the Ganges is a point that I have not materials to discuss, nor is it of much importance for the present investigation; for, whether it had an independent course or not, as it takes its rise in the lower Himalayas or Siwâlik hills, and as the great Gandak flows through and receives tributaries from the same tract only a very few miles off, if the smaller river he gold-hearing, the other must necessarily be so also. The converse of this, however, would not hold, for obvious reasons; but it has been shown that it is to the little river that the name Hiranyavati, or gold-abounding, belongs; therefore if (and I cannot imagine it otherwise) the name gold-abounding were given to the small river for its actually yielding gold, a name of similar meaning would naturally be only the just due of the other and larger river also. I consider then that the names Hiranyavati and Hiranyavaha belong to the two Gandaki rivers, the little and the great. It is worthy of note that Hiranyavati is a feminine name and Hiranyavaha masculine, and if the former were given to the small or Chhota Gandak, the other would very appropriately be applied to the larger Gandak.
Amara in his Kosha, or some one of his commentators or transcribers, appears through some confusion to have placed Hiranyavaha as a synonym of the Son. To this supposition I am led by the circumstance that the names supposed to be synonyms of the Son are immediately followed by the names ​of several distinct rivers without any attempt at arrangement of any kind.
If then my inference be correct, the name Hiranyavaha and its Greek rendering Erranoboas belong to the Gandak; Condochates would be the name of the Chhota Gandak river.
The physical characteristic of size of the great Gandak agrees with the Greek accounts, which make it the third river in India, inferior only to the Indus and the Ganges. The Gandak is indeed a great river, and, unlike its southern rival, it is not a river that shrivels up in the hot weather. The Son in the dry months is a very small river, or rather discharges a small volume of water, and only becomes mighty for a short time annually; it is not navigable, except in floods; in short, its essential characteristics are those of a mountain torrent, and as such it cannot bear any sort of comparison with the perennially great rivers, the Ganges and the Indus; but the Gandak, independent of its draining a larger basin than the Son, is fed by the eternal snows of the Himalayas, and never even in the driest mouths dwindles down to insignificance. It is always navigable in the driest seasons as far up as Baggah, or almost to the foot of the Siwâlik hills (see Rennell’ s memorandum and map of inland navigation), and may justly bear comparison with the Ganges and the Indus.
It thus appears that physically the Son cannot be held to represent the Greek Erranoboas, and whatever weight may attach to my arguments regarding the right of the great Gandak to the name Hiranyavaha, the physical inability of the Son can in no way be bettered by a decision for or against it; so that the Son must be abandoned, whatever other river may be adopted instead, and there is no other river that can fulfil the requirements but the Gandak. To sum up, then, I infer that the Sona of the Greeks is the modern Son; that the Condochates of the Greeks is the modern Chhota Gandak or Gandaki, joining the Ganges a little above Hajipur; and that the Erranoboas is the Hiranyavaha or the great Gandaki river, the modern Gandak.
Hitherto all proofs of the identification of Pâṭaliputra with Patna have been based on historical grounds. Nothing, however, in or about Patna has been discovered which could with certainty be pointed out as a relic of Pâṭaliputra. This last link in the chain of evidence I have been enabled to supply.
In one of his letters, General Cunningham informs me that ​according to Hwen Thsang there existed in his time a rocky hill to the south-west of the palace. His words are—
"To the south-west of the old palace there is a small rocky hill, with many dozens of caves, which was made for Asoka by the demons for the use of Upagupta and other arhats"
To the south-west of the present city of Patna, and about one kos from the Patna bazar, and the same distance south-east from Bânkipur, there is a small rocky hill, at the base of which is a small hamlet; the rocky summit of the hill, however, is uninhabited; it is now known as Bhiká Pahári.
In Muhammadan history a Panj Pahári is mentioned as standing just outside of the fortifications of Patna, from the top of which Akbar inspected the fort during the war with Dâud Khan (Stewart’s Bengal, page 153). The fort referred to there is the Muhammadan-built fort, as will be shown further on, but the Panj Pahári appears to me to mean no other than the very hill which I have heard named Bhiká Pahári. The name Panj Pahári is no doubt connected with the five stûpas which Hwen Thsang relates were to the south-west of the hill; they must have been at its very foot.
The name of the hill Bhiká Pahári, meaning the hill of the Bhikhas (or mendicant monks), is so clear a record of its ancient purpose, that further comment is needless; it is unquestionably the hill referred to by the pilgrim.
Hwen Thsang says further—"to the south-east of the city was Asoka’s Kukkutarâmâ monastery with a stupâ."
To the south-east of Patna there is yet a small brick mound; its name has escaped me, but it is clearly the ruins of Asoka’s Kukkutarâmâ monastery, and would probably be worth excavating.
In support, however, of my assertion, that ancient Pâṭaliputra is now under the waters of the Ganges, I mention that, after a very careful and minute examination of modern Patna, I failed to discover a single relic, or any traces of the great edifices, towers, &c., in it. It is hardly possible that all traces of the grandeur of the city should have so completely disappeared, if the city stood where modern Patna now stands; but if the Ganges has swallowed it, the complete disappearance is accounted for.
Greek writers mention that the walls of Palibothra were of wood. It most probably was so then, but the clear evidence of Fa Hian and of the Mudra Râkshasa shows that Pâṭaliputra was not a wooden city in their time.
The vast quantities of stone which must have been em​ployed in the construction of the palaces and other edifices could not disappear so entirely as to leave no trace; for even if used up in modern buildings, we should see more stone in the buildings than can now be seen; a few wrecks, however, exist in the shape of detached blocks, used as sills or steps; two very fine moulded cornice stones of beautifully smooth, polished black basalt, exactly similar to the stone used in the pillars near Lakhisarai (to be described further on), are built into a couple of mean-looking houses in the narrow lane leading to the holy temple of Patain Devi; a few fragments also lie at the door of Patain Dcvi’s temple, now quite worn and mutilated; but on the river face, near the north-east end of Patna, are numerous boulders of stone lying scattered on the banks, and built into the river revetments, showing that on this side, probably, was the old city, with its stone edifices: besides these, no other traces of old Pâṭaliputra exist in modern Patna.
The modern city of Patna dates only to the time of Shir Shah. I quote from Elliot’s History of India, Volume IV, page 477—
"Shir Shah on his return from Bengal (in 948 A. H.=1541 A. D.) came to Patna, then a small town, dependent on Bihar, which was the seat of the local Government. He was standing on the bank of the Ganges when, after much solid reflection and sage determination, he said to those who were standing by . 'If a fort were built in this place the waters of the Ganges could never flow far from it, and Patna would become one of the great towns of this country; because this place is situated to the west on the banks of the Ganges which flows from the north. The strength of the stream is broken, and it cannot advance towards the north.' He therefore ordered skilful carpenters and brick-layers to make out immediately an estimate for building a fort where he then stood. These experienced workmen submitted an estimate of five lacs, which on the spur of the moment was made over to trustworthy persons. The fort was completed and was considered to be exceedingly strong. Bihar from that time was deserted and fell to ruin, while Patna became one of the largest cities of the province."
Popular tradition confirms this account, and at the present day a masjid in Patna of plain massive construction is pointed out as the masjid built by Shir Shah; it has an inscription. The name of Shir Shah is said to be written in the interior at the neck of the great central dome. There is certainly an inscription there, but so concealed with repeated coats of whitewash as to be hardly legible; from the style of the building I am of opinion that the masjid does date to Shir Shah.
In plan, this masjid is a square of 63 feet internally, within which is a second square marked by pillars with a ​clear width internally of 27 feet 2 inches. This central hall is covered by a semicircular dome on a low neck, surmounted externally by a small top-knot, like the Kila Kona Masjid in Delhi Purana Kila. The dome is supported underneath by arches, which mark out the central hall. The pillars are 3 feet 8 inches square; there are four on each side, so that the hall has 12 arched openings springing from the 12 pillars; the corner pillars are in no way larger or stronger than the intermediate ones; the dome rests on arched pendentives.
The galleries on the four sides of this hall are roofed by vaulted arches resting on arches. At the four corners, however, the vaults are replaced by four small domes, similar to the large central dome, and similarly surmounted by small top-knots; the principal mehrâb is in the centre of the west wall of the west gallery. Two other mehrâbs, however, occupy the west-end walls of the two north and south galleries. The principal entrance to the masjid is under a great archway, and through a smaller archway; all the entrance archways are equal, but the central one has a projecting great arch for its façade. The smaller archways, both of the principal entrances and of the mehrâbs, are fretted, but the great arch is quite plain, and so are the side arches; the top of the central projecting portion of the front wall, which is pierced by the great arch, is curved. The four faces of the masjid are precisely similar to each other externally and internally, with this exception, that in the west face there are no entrances, but merely false arches panelled into the façade.
The exterior is ornamented by several small niches. The general appearance of the masjid is plain, and its style is not such as to make it imposing, despite its excessive plainness. The masjid is built entirely of brick faced with plaster, and devoutly whitewashed every year. I have thus described it in detail, as it is traditionally and probably actually the oldest masjid in Patna.
Besides this masjid there are two others of interest, of which the one at Chamni Ghat is remarkably fine. It consists of five openings (of which the central one is slightly larger than the side ones), giving entrance into a long hall divided off into five compartments by great archways across from wall to wall resting on square projecting pilasters. The central entrance is relieved by a bold projection pierced by a large archway, and this projecting portion of the front wall is a little higher than the rest of the façade; it is not curved on the top as in Shir Shah's masjid, but is perfectly straight ​and ornamented with battlements. Over the other entrances are also battlements and slight projections to give them value. The corners are ornamented by octagonal towers.
The roof consists of one large central dome with two smaller domes on each side; the domes are all flattish, without bulge, and are crowned by small foliated caps and gilt spires with numerous gilt discs and balls alternating, as is the usual custom at the present day. The façade has not much play of light and shade, being, with the exception noted at the centre entrance, almost a dead flat, hardly relieved at the four side entrances; but this want of real beauty is in some measure made up for by a profuse use of glazed coloured tiles along the entire front over the archways, the walls below being perfectly plain. This great band of coloured tiles along the top represents leaves, flowers, scroll-work, &c., in a free style. The towers also at the corners are similarly ornamented by glazed tiles all the way up from the level of the glazed tiled band of the masjid face. It is possible that at the towers, if not elsewhere, glazed coloured tile ornamentation extended down to the floor level, but having got broken, has been repaired or rather replaced by plain plaster.
The towers are terminated by small bulbous domes, also covered with coloured glazed tiles. The back of the masjid externally is quite plain.
Internally a broad band of glazed coloured tiles run along the walls all round, passing over the mehrâbs. This band contains a long inscription running right through from end to end, but it is much injured. I was not permitted to go in or copy or read them. Besides this band of glazed tiles the mehrâbs are also ornamented with glazed tiles, and the central one is a remarkably fine piece of glazed coloured tile-work, though unfortunately now much injured. At the springing of the southernmost entrance arch, on the jamb an inscription in glazed tile-work reads—
This inscription apparently, if complete, would have given us the name of the builder and the date; at present it breaks off just as it proceeds to speak of the building.
The pendentives on which the domes rest are corbelled and plastered as in the Khirki Masjid of Delhi, but are not quite plain.
In front of the masjid is a wide pavement, running time entire length of the masjid. It is of brick, but divided into ​compartments, and bordered by long large blocks of grey, coarse, chiselled granite. The blocks of stone are secured, or rather were once secured, to each other by iron cramps.
The masjid is entirely of brick. It occupies the centre of the west end of a large court-yard which once had long and magnificent ranges of cloisters on the other three sides, and the remainder of the west side not taken up by the masjid proper. This great court-yard had two gates to the east and south.
The cloisters have long ago disappeared, all except a fragment at the north-east corner, from which it appears that the last corner towers were surmounted by flattish round domes; the cloisters, however, appear to have had pyramidal roofs, and three such now exist touching the last tower in the existing fragment of the north-east corner.
The cloisters were all probably more than one storey in height.
The two gateways were very high and ornamented with glazed tiles. Their roofs were surmounted by several small flattish domes, somewhat in the style of the Delhi Jamai Masjid of Shah Jehan. The gates were flanked by little square pavilions with pyramidal roofs covered with glazed coloured tiles. The north face of the quadrangle now consists of small pavilions with pyramidal roofs on projecting towers connected by low railings of stone. Whether cloisters once existed on this side is uncertain; I rather think they did, but having become ruined have been replaced by the present arrangement of open pavilions connected by low railings. This side of the quadrangle overhangs the river, which washes the base of the great massive revetments which rise sheer out of it.
The revetments are very strong and massive, and rise to a great height, as the site on which the masjid is built is comparatively very high. These revetments run on, with various but unimportant interruptions, a long distance, right away to the great revetments and towers of the citadel or kila at the end of the city, the ruins of which still frown over the river below in shattered majesty. This citadel or kila is now the highest spot within modern Patna, and is a confused mass of ruined houses and brickbat heaps, presenting an aspect of desolation which, far from being relieved, is only aggravated by the existing houses yet inhabited, but mostly in a ruinous condition. No friendly vegetation hides the naked rawness of the ruins there.
The masjid described above is very picturesque ( ​notwithstanding the flatness of its façade) from its position on the edge of the river at such a height as to be a commanding object. The glare of its glazed tiles has been softened down by the hands of time and weather, and presents no harsh contrasts and gaudy colours to offend the eye; the white clean interior seen through the archways contrasts in a pleasing way with the dark time-soiled exterior.
The revetments which confine the river are built of brick and rubble-stone very solidly, and sloping up in the usual way; they are further strengthened with various towers, break-waters, and counterforts; the foot of the revetment is protected by loose large rubble-stone pitched in. It is in this part of Patna alone that stone, rubble and dressed, are to be met with in any quantity, and this, as before noticed, tends to show that the old capital of Magadha with its numerous stone towers and buildings existed on this side, the stone used in the river revetments being the last remnants of the old city which the river had not swallowed up when modern Patna was founded by Shir Shah.
Near Khwâja Kalân’s Ghât, a masjid, dargâh, and gateway of some interest exist in a semi-ruinous condition. They date from Aurangzebe’s reign, and the tomb is said to be that of Dhum Shah, a local saint of limited fame. It is in form a square with four pillars on each face supporting the roof, which, however, no longer exists entire. The corner supports are groups of four pillars each, of the late Mughal style.
Vertically over the pillars rise arched ribs of sandstone cut to shape; over these were laid transversely slabs of stone, close fitting, in two layers, forming the roof, the arrangement being precisely similar to the way in which the hull of a boat is built,—namely, planks resting against ribs formed to shape. Stone lattices once closed the openings between the pillars, but they have disappeared. On the south a doorway once existed. The pillars are surmounted by double bracket capitals, and are supported on truncated pyramidal bases; the pillars are octagonal and of sandstone, as also the rest of the building; the whole was crowned once by a bold projecting cave.
The gateway leading to the ghat is of brick, faced with stone in the late Mughal style.
The masjid is a plain building well covered with whitewash. It is built of brick and stone. The plainness of the façade is broken by niches, and the front arches are ornamented. Four towers stand at the four corners. The roof is of ​the flattish vaulted construction; the back wall has the usual projection in the centre marking the mehrâb.
Besides these the only other objects worth mention in Patna of antiquarian interest are four high mounds of brick and earth at the four corners of what once was the Fort of Patna. These are now known as the asthânas of four local saints; three of these still exist crowned by small whitewashed shrines; the north-west one has disappeared in the Ganges.
A plan of the old fortifications of Patna may be seen in Rennell's Indian Atlas, plate XV. The fort was an irregular parallelogram, of which the north side ran along the river. Even in Rennell's time this side of the fort had disappeared to a great extent, notably the north-west portion with its tower; tradition, however, preserves its memory still. The west wall was a curve with the concave side turned outwards. The walls were of earth, and Rennell shows them 32 feet in height at the north end of the west wall. The height now is nowhere 32 feet, and in most places it has quite disappeared. The great road now leading from the railway station towards the dargah of Márú Saheb, at the north-east corner of the city, runs on the crest of the old fort walls.
The moat, however, still exists, but is partially filled up, and in some places so altered by railway excavations that it hardly looks like a moat. The fact, however, of its surrounding the city proves that it is an artificial excavation to defend the city.
The citadel, as noticed before, is a mass of ruin. A plan of it may be seen in Rennell's plan of the Fort of Patna. Its walls were of solid brick masonry, of which a great portion still stands. Rennell gives the height as 32 feet without the parapet, and this height still exists in most parts, but the parapet has quite disappeared, except where abutting houses have necessitated its preservation.
The native legend regarding the first occupation of Patna is very silly; it relates that in ancient times a great magician, Patan Deo, reigned in Patna, who succeeded in destroying by magic all the troops sent to take the place by the Muhammadan emperors. At last, in the reign of Akbar, four saints volunteered to reduce the place; they were accordingly sent, and Patan Deo, finding them proof against his magic, quietly gave up the place and went away. These four brothers then built the four mounds at the four corners and lived there.
​They were named—
(1) Hazrat Pir Mansur Wali Alláh, after whom the Mohalla Mansurganj is named.
(2) Hazrat Pir Maruf Wali Alláh, after whom the Mohalla Maruganj is named.
(3) Hazrat Pir Mehdi Wali Alláh, after whom the Mohalla Mehdiganj is named.
(4) Hazrat Pir Jaffer Wali Alláh, from whom Jafferganj Mohalla derives its name.
The Muhammadan name of Patna is Azimabad, from Prince Azim, son of Akbar (so runs the tradition), who on the conquest of Patna was sent by the king at the request of the four saints. He built several masjids in it, and bestowed on it the name of Azimabad.
From Patna it will be convenient to follow the footsteps of Hwen Thsang, the Chinese traveller.
PLATE I.