# Report of a Tour through the Bengal Provinces/Barâkar

BARÂKAR.
Barâkar, which is the terminus of the East Indian Railway, Barâkar Branch, and is situated on the Grand Trunk Road, contains several very interesting ancient remains, in excellent preservation. There are four temples, whose towers at least are in entire preservation; besides some ruins. There are two temples together at the eastern end of the group, and one ruined temple not far off. Some few feet off are two other temples.
Temples Nos. 1 and 2 are precisely like each other. As they stand at present, they consist of a simple cell each, surmounted by a tower roof, but there are traces of a mandapa in front, of which all, but the foundations, have disappeared. So far as can now be ascertained, the temple consisted of a cell, with its doorway; an antarala, formed in the thickness of the back walls of the mahamandapa; a mahamandapa, about 13½ feet square (see plate). That there were chambers in front of the mahamandapa I cannot doubt, but no traces now exist of any.
One of the temples is inscribed. The record is engraved on the right jamb of the entrance or doorway of the sanctum. It is in two distinct pieces—one of 11½ lines, the other of 21 lines, both in a variety of the Bengali character. From the style of the characters, the temples do not appear to date to beyond the Muhammadan conquest, or, at the utmost, to just before. The inscriptions are not dated. One of them mentions the erection of the temple by one Harishchandra (Rájá?) for his beloved; but who Harishchandra was, or when he built the temples, is not mentioned. The temples are particularly interesting, as being the finest existing examples of their type.
​The temples face east. In the cell of the inscribed one is a Ganeça on a pedestal, in front of which is an oblong argha, with 3 lingam holes cut into it. It appears to me that only one of the holes was originally cut; the others were subsequently added—why, I cannot imagine. I infer this from the rudeness of execution of the other holes; two nandis and several Vaishnavic sculptures lie outside. A peculiarity of these temples,—and not of these alone, but of the entire series of temples of this type to he found in Mânbhum,—is the sunk position of the floor of the sanctum.
I am inclined to ascribe these temples to a period posterior to the Muhammadan conquest of Northern India, from the circumstance that a temple of this type, existing at Telcupi, to be noticed further on, has had the corners of its mahamandapa cut off (to enable a circular roof to be put on), in the same way as the corners of Iltitmish's tomb at Delhi; but it is to he observed that this mode of construction, although it, undoubtedly, occurs in a post-Muhammadan building in Delhi, is to be regarded as essentially Hindu, especially as we meet no instances of it after the time, when, as is well known, Hindu masons were employed of necessity in the construction of Muhammadan structures; so that, although I am on this ground inclined to attribute these temples to a post-Muhammadan period in the absence of other data, I am by no means satisfied that in doing so, I am right.
The sanctum is roofed by overlapping stones, chamfered at the edges, till the opening is small enough to be slabbed over; but, although the inner roof of the sanctum is thus a pyramidal one, there is space between it and the outer tower roof for a small chamber. I could see no chamber from the outside, and clambering up to ascertain it, was not practicable; but, judging from other examples, it is very unlikely that the entire intervening space is solidly filled in.
The basement mouldings of these temples are not elegant, though they are deeply cut, and rise to a great height. This is due to the circumstance that they do not splay outwards, and thus add to the breadth and solidity of the temple. Constructively, these temples, founded on solid rock, need no splay outwards of the foundations, but, artistically, the very profusion of deep-cut lines, richly sculptured, which do not apparently increase the stability of the temple, is unsatisfactory. In this respect the simple mouldings of the temple at Katrás, similarly founded on rock, will contrast ​favorably with these, as also those of No. 5 temple here; and even No. 4 has very perceptible advantages over Nos. 1 and 2: see plates.
It is needless to do more than allude to the richly indented towers. As examples of towers richly, yet simply, ornamented, they invite especial attention and study. It is not, however, possible to give a critical account of them till accurate drawings to scale can be made—a work which, as I have before observed, must be undertaken at some future time, not now, when extensive rapid tours are undertaken and accomplished.
Close to and south of these temples stands a raised mound—the ruins of a temple. This temple contained numerous statues of the avatars of Vishnu, several of which still exist in a weather-beaten and broken state. The temple must have been large, and the statues appear to have been ranged along the walls of the mahamandapa, doing duty as pilasters and, perhaps, as pillars, precisely in the style of the temples in the eastern portion of the Central Provinces, which I have since seen. The age of this temple is difficult to ascertain. Judging from the ruins of what its style must have been, and comparing it with the temples in the Central Provinces, to which type it clearly belongs, this temple should be placed at a very early period, perhaps the sixth or seventh century of our era; but as it is found in company with other temples which, apparently, are of a later date, I do not see how any great antiquity can be assigned to it. There is but one solution,—to ascribe all the Barâkar temples to a date prior (but not by much) to the Muhammadan conquest.
Temple No. 4 stands by itself. It, like Nos. 1 and 2, consists at present of a single cell, but, unlike them, it does not appear to have ever had a mahamandapa in front, as the mouldings are carried round to the very entrance of the sanctum. Unlike them, too, it does not face east, but due west. In other particulars it appears to be much like them. The floor of its cell is considerably lower than the sill of the entrance, being 3 feet 7 inches below the level of the entrance sill. Like them, too, it has a pyramidal roof inside, with no chambers visible above, and the tower and the ornamentation of the tower are similar also. The mouldings of the basement are, however, different, both in being unadorned with sculpture, and in being higher and bolder, and altogether more pleasing. A portion of the lower part of the temple is now buried underground.
​The object of worship inside is the figure of a fish lying flat, serving as an argha to five lingam holes cut in it. This sculpture is especially interesting, as proving that the fish is essentially a representation of the female power of nature—a character which it hears in the mythology of other nations, but which appears to have been overlooked, or forgotten, in Indian mythology, where it, and a similar symbol, the tortoise, are dissociated from the lingam. Vishnu, as the preserving, and therefore the reproductive, agent, is, by right, entitled to these symbols, but so is he in his masculine aspect to the lingam. The lingam, however, has long, by a strange anomaly, become associated with Siva, the destroying agent, and has lost all connection with its natural pedestal, the yoni, represented by the fish and tortoise, and elsewhere (out of India) by the boat, the ark, &c. It is out of place here to pursue the subject further, but in the history of Indian symbolism, this unique sculpture will occupy a very interesting and important position. The sculpture represents a fish 5 feet 9 inches long from the snout to the tip of the tail, 2 feet 3 inches wide at the swell below the head, and 1 foot 9 inches at the junction of the tail. The tail itself is 9 inches long by 2 feet 1 inch wide at its extremity.
Close to this temple, and facing it, stands temple No. 5. It is now inclosed, or partially inclosed, within a courtyard; but the walls of this inclosure are evidently later additions, as they cover up the mouldings of the temple outside on the sides.
Divested of this wall, the temple consists of a cell and an antarala, or vestibule. It does not appear to have ever had a mahamandapa in front. The object of worship is a lingam, placed in a great argha, 4 feet 7 inches in diameter. Besides this, there are lying, in and out, statues and fragments, among which may be reckoned, Ganeça, a 4-armed female, a 4-armed male holding a sword and a trident in two hands, and some nondescript fragments. The roof is pyramidal inside, as in other temples.
Externally, the tower differs considerably from those of the other temples here, and, though in bad order, surpasses them in beauty and richness, though the sculptured details are not so profuse or minute. The basement mouldings, too, are bold, elegant, and simple, and stand in strong contrast to the richer, more labored, but ineffective, profusion of lines in the other temples. Reference to the plates and photographs will give details both of this and of the other temples.
​This temple cannot be classed with the others. In design and in execution it is essentially different, though the same in material; and if style alone be taken as a criterion of age, it should be much older than them. But style is such a vague expression, that it is a vicious system, which presumes from a consideration of that which itself is undefined to deduce the age of any structure. Few, if any, of those who use the expression have any clear idea of its meaning. I certainly have very vague notions about it; and I do not believe it has yet been laid down what, and why, particular features, or what, and why, particular details of features,—whether of plan, of material, of color, of ornamentation, of profile, or of construction,—should be, and what should not be, considered as entering into, and helping to make up, the shadowy thing known (or rather, I should say, not known) as style. Before we can make use of "style" as a test of age, we have, first, to define it; and secondly, to show that style is justly a criterion of age, and of age alone,—not rather of locality, or of a combination of age and locality. I have in several instances been guilty of attempting to judge from "style;" but it has always been done with hesitation, and more because I felt myself somehow bound to give an opinion,—guess it should rather be called,—which will be of use, even if it only succeeds in inviting controversy, and thus helping to throw light from other quarters on the subject.
One interesting feature in these temples must not be passed over unnoticed. The temples are surmounted by urns, and not by cylinders, or spires, or cones. The temple No. 5 had, indeed, once an iron trisul surmounting it, but it appeared to me to have been put in afterwards.
There are no legends in connection with these temples.