Maharaja Ganga Singh had four children, the heir Sadul Singh, my grandfather and his beautiful sister Princess Chand Kanwar from his first wife Maharani Vallabh Kanwar Ranawat, who was the daughter of Maharawat Raghunath Singh of Partapgarh. My great grandmother had died at a very young age of twenty-three, from tuberculosis, leaving behind two infant children. He married for the second time but had no children by his second wife, after which he married Maharani Bhatiyaniji of Bikamkore, from whom he had another son Prince Bijey Singh and a daughter Princess Shiv Kanwar, who was later to become the Maharani of Kota.
By 1912, when the Silver Jubilee of the Maharaja’s reign was celebrated, Bikaner had become a modern and progressive state, taking its place among the most advanced principalities in India. The revenue had doubled, schools, hospitals, improved communications, an efficient police, a trained magistracy, and a chief court (incidentally the first in Rajputana), all bore witness to the steady advancement of Bikaner during the first decade of the twentieth century. The Maharaja also established a Legislative Assembly in the state in 1913. He was the first ruler in northern India to introduce the beginnings of representative institutions. It was a courageous and statesman-like act, as the Rajput kingdoms, conservative par excellence, had an unbroken tradition of personal and semi-feudal government. In fact, he had correctly anticipated the developments in India and realised that the strength of a ruler in future would lie only in close association of his people with the government.
During the Second World War, the Maharaja, accompanied by his grandson, Prince Karni Singh, my father, had proceeded to the Middle East war front in October 1941. At the time when the Third Battle of Libya started, the Maharaja and Prince Karni Singh, both were present in the western desert, as far as advance battle headquarters near Maddalena. The Bikaner Ganga Risala gained many laurels for the hard fighting in the Libyan Desert. The Maharaja remained on the war fronts in Egypt, Iran and Iraq for nearly two months.
As early as 1914, the Maharaja made special efforts to create an organisation for the Princes of India so that in matters of common interest to them and to the Empire, the rulers of Indian States might consult among themselves and make their influence felt at the centre. The Chamber of Princes was created in 1921 and he was elected its first Chancellor. The Maharaja was also a member of the Indian delegation to the League of Nations in 1924 and in 1930, he made an appearance at the Imperial War Conference and also the Round Table Conference held at London in October and November of that year, respectively. At the Indian Round Table Conference he appealed to the British leaders to rise to the occasion, undaunted by difficulties, and declared that the princes were neither opposed to the political growth of British India nor were they were against the realisation of just hopes of their fellow countrymen in British India. He pleaded for a federal system of Government of the states and British India. By his advocacy of the idea of federation, the Maharaja displayed his great statesmanship and transformed the character of the Conference.
The greatest achievement of Maharaja Ganga Singh, and the one that gave him legendary fame in the history of Bikaner was the Gang Canal, a source of much needed water in the northern part of the state, which for millennia, had remained arid. To bring the canal in the vast and sandy expanse of the desert was not an easy task. He had faced acute trials and ordeals during the great famine of 1899-1900 and this experience suggested to him that it was essential that something be done to secure the blessings of regular irrigation by means of a big canal from a river such as the Sutlej, a branch of the Indus. His efforts to secure irrigation for the State met with many reverses and setbacks. The Maharaja however, undaunted by the setbacks, continued with his efforts with grim determination and after nearly five years he laid the foundation stone to commemorate the construction of the Gang Canal at Ferozepur on 5 December 1925.
The canal was completed in 1927 and was opened by Lord Irwin, the Viceroy on 26 October 1927. The event was the harbinger of an era of much prosperity to the state and its people. Lord Linlithgow, the Viceroy, in his speech said: ‘Even had Maharaja Ganga Singh no other achievements to his credit, the Gang Canal would be a lasting memorial of his rule.’ In a light- hearted moment among all the pomp and ceremony, my father who was a little boy of three at the time, remembered that he was greeted by the Viceroy Lord Irwin, who was a tall man. He had bent down to greet him and asked him how old he was. Overcome by shyness, all my father could do was to hold up three fingers to indicate his age, after which someone picked him up and he saw the waters flowing into the canal. It must have been a strong memory for my father to have retained, considering that he was only three years old at the time.
Gifted with a remarkable aesthetic aptitude, Maharaja Ganga Singh had a great fondness for craftsmanship, especially in the many palaces and public buildings he got built in his lifetime. Possessing considerable architectural knowledge and a love for traditional culture, he took a deep interest in all the projects of public buildings. The splendour of the palaces and the buildings built up by him remain matchless even to this day. The Lallgarh and Gajner palaces afford instances of endless charm and are a magical and happy blend of the traditional components of art with the modern ways of comfort. A number of public buildings, gardens, hospitals, schools, museums and libraries which were built by him have transformed the face of the capital. An eminent historian, Dr. Gaurishankar Hirachand Ojha, wrote: ‘Comparatively speaking, Maharaja Ganga Singh alone had built far more public utility buildings than all the previous rulers put together, during the course of 400 years.’
A lifelong chain smoker, the Maharaja’s preference was for small unfiltered Egyptian cigarettes which were specially made for him and shipped to India in substantial quantities. I have seen old black and white movies in which grandfather invariably held a lit cigarette in his hand; in fact, even when he was driving a car, once he had settled behind the wheel, he would first light up a cigarette and then put the car in gear and drive on. It was, therefore, hardly surprising that my great grandfather developed throat cancer and after heroic attempts at cobalt therapy and other treatments he finally succumbed to his terminal illness and died on 2 February, 1943, in Bombay. With his demise, a glorious era in Bikaner’s history came to a close.
The Viceroy Lord Wavell while paying tribute to him, wrote: ‘His career was one of unceasing and varied activity in the course of which His Highness’ remarkable talents and forceful personality gained for him an outstanding position of eminence and renown.’ In its editorial, The Times of India wrote that the Maharaja had devoted himself ‘with single-mindedness to the service of his people and his country. In so doing, he placed Bikaner on the map and he became a figure of world distinction.’
A few months after the Maharaja’s death, Lord Wavell, the Viceroy, while unveiling his bust on 14 October, 1943, in the Chamber of Princes Hall, said: ‘Maharaja Ganga Singh was a great man. Take him, for all in all, we shall not look upon his like again.’ He lifted his State from comparative poverty and insignificance to prosperity and eminence. He was indeed the architect of modern Bikaner, and without doubt, one of its greatest Maharajas.
Whenever I happen to be in London, I pay a visit to The National Portrait Gallery at Trafalgar Square: the purpose of my trip there is specifically to pay homage to a particular painting that hangs there. It is the very large oil painting by Sir James Guthrie titled ‘Statesman of the Great War’, – an imaginary composition of all the leaders who were prominent during World War I, such as Winston Churchill, Louis Botha the Prime Minister of the Union of South Africa and other world leaders are represented and standing prominently close to them is Maharaja Ganga Singh of Bikaner who was the only ‘non white’ member of the Imperial War Conference. It is a matter of great pride for us to have a representation of great grandfather in this particular painting which is part of the permanent collection at the Gallery. This painting was commissioned by a South African gentleman Sir Abraham Bailey who then presented it to the National Portrait Ga
llery in 1930.
The Bikaner Camel Corps or the Ganga Risala, as it was known, was founded by my great grandfather; it gained great distinction in the many battles that the state undertook both in China and the Middle East. Camel straddled soldiers had been used since Rao Bika’s reign. The hardy animal is ideally suited to the desert region and can go without water for long periods of time. It is sure footed on the slippery sand dunes and capable of carrying large loads for long distances. The Ganga Risala had the distinction of fighting in both the World Wars and great grandfather personally led the Ganga Risala to China during the Boxer Rebellion in 1900 and later to Somalia in 1902-1904 to quell the Somali uprising, as well as in Egypt in 1915 to the Suez Canal when it routed the Turkish forces there.
There is correspondence in our archives to the effect that King Farouk of Egypt was interested in acquiring Indian camels and requested Maharaja Ganga Singh to send him a few animals from Bikaner. A letter dated7 November 1942 from the Foreign and Political Department stated: ‘When His Highness the Maharajah (Maharaja Ganga Singh) met His Highness King Farouk of Egypt in Cairo last year he found him much interested in animals, and His Highness told His Majesty that he would make a present to him of 4 camels of the famous Bikaner breed from his Ganga Risala at the end of the war. I am, therefore, requested that 4 of the best camels available may, after selection through the Commanding Officer, Ganga Risala, be kept in Aden at the expense of this State and either during the War or as soon after the War as possible, sent over to Cairo, also at the expense of this State, for presentation to His Majesty King Farouk.’
Maharaja Ganga Singh then instructed the Ganga Risala to select four of their best camels and arrange to send them to Cairo. Maharaja Ganga Singh in a letter dated 16 December 1942 wrote to King Farouk: ‘I hope they (the camels) will arrive safely and that Your Majesty will accept them as a small token of my high consideration and esteem. The War, at last, seems now to have taken a definite turn for the better and I pray victory will be vouchsafed to us before too long.’
Shortly thereafter, King Farouk replied by a letter dated 5 January 1943: ‘Deeply touched by your kind thought and friendly gesture, I send Your Highness my best thanks and wish to assure your cordial sentiments are sincerely reciprocated. Very unfortunately, one of the camels had an accident on landing but the three that arrived safely are really admirable and worthy of their famous breed. The fact that they were sent by Your Highness adds particularly to their value. Thus, I have given orders that they should be looked after with due care and attention.’
It appears that this poor unfortunate camel had ‘sustained injuries so serious when it landed at Suez that it had to be destroyed.’ The British embassy in Cairo then wrote to Maharaja Ganga Singh in January 1943,‘When I saw King Farouk two days ago, His Majesty spoke at some length about Your Highness’s gift and I got the impression that it would be very much appreciated if Your Highness could possibly replace the animal. I am passing this to Your Highness for what it may be worth.’ Sadly, by that time Maharaja Ganga Singh was terminally ill and unable to continue the correspondence and he died soon after in February 1943, and the matter of the replacement of the unfortunate camel would be a subject to be taken up in due course by my grandfather Maharaja Sadul Singh.
In May 1946, after a suitable camel had been procured, a cable was dispatched from the Bikaner office to the British Ambassador to Egypt Sir Ronald Campbell: ‘Camel for His Majesty King Farouk of Egypt being dispatched by SS Khosrou from Bombay twentieth May. Arrival in Port Said and Cairo not known but grateful kindly having necessary arrangements made to facilitate its landing transport to Cairo and presentation to King Farouk, Kind regards.’
The arrival of the camel in Cairo attracted much attention including that of the press. An article appeared in a local English newspaper in July 1946: ‘Among the passengers which the good ship SS Jehangir carried when she sailed from Bombay last Friday is a young camel, a present from HH the Maharajah of Bikaner to King Farouk of Egypt. It seems odd that a camel should be sent from India to Egypt, as this country, no less than North Africa and Arabia, are the home of the one humped Arabian camel.
But there are many varieties of this type and this one, I was told, belongs to the swifter breeds that are well known in Bikaner, and it will have the distinction I hear of carrying the Mahmal (Holy Carpet) on the annual pilgrimage from Cairo to Mecca. This pilgrimage is religiously performed each year, with usually a high-ranking officer from Egypt appointed as ‘Prince of Pilgrimage’ for he is entrusted with the safety of the carpet.’ Thus, it seems that the replacement camel from Bikaner was greatly privileged to be chosen to participate in the religious pilgrimage to Mecca.
Post Independence, the Ganga Risala was merged with the camel troops from Jaisalmer and became known as the Ganga Jaislemer Risala. It participated in the annual Republic Day parade and I recall it was a very proud moment for us when the Ganga Risala trooped by, wearing their pristine white uniforms and beautiful saffron turbans. During the two wars with Pakistan, the Risala was active in patrolling the border between Rajasthan and Pakistan in 1965. My father was deeply depressed with the disbanding of the Ganga Risala and I remember he once told me that he had a dream in which a camel was playing a bagpipe – perhaps it was a lament for the end of this very dignified camel mounted fighting corps founded by his grandfather.
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Three generations of the Bikaner family, Maharaja Ganga Singhji holding my father Bhanwar Karni Singhji and my grandfather Maharaj Kumar Sadul Singhji is standing alongside.
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‘Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right path, but the final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands’.
- Anne Frank
M
y paternal grandparents were Maharaja Sadul Singh and Maharani Sudershana Kumari of Bikaner and my maternal grandparents were Maharawal Lakshman Singh and Maharani Manher Kumari of Dungarpur. Both sets of grandparents were very interesting people. My paternal grandfather died three years before I was born in 1950 so I never had the privilege of knowing him personally, but the other three, I was fortunate enough to interact with in the early years of my life. Even more fascinating than them was my great aunt Rajmata Mehtab Kanwar, the widow of Maharaja Dungar Singh, the twentieth Maharaja of Bikaner, my father’s great uncle, who had in his own lifetime decided to adopt his younger brother Ganga Singh, since they did not have any children of their own.
The widow of Maharaja Dungar Singh, Rajmata Mehtab Kanwar was a frail and delicate old lady, and she lived in the Dalel Niwas wing in the old Junagarh Fort. Her husband Maharaja Dungar Singhji was an enlightened Maharaja and saw many changes in his short life including the introduction of electricity in Bikaner. Sadly, he died in his thirties of cancer. As children we were sent to pay our respects to the dowager Rajmata once or twice a year. I was very young at the time and found the Fort very dark and intimidating; the steps that led to her apartment were steep and torturous to climb. Once there, we were led through a succession of gloomy corridors to her room which was perhaps the darkest and gloomiest room of all. She was always surrounded by a bevy of old attendants, dressed in black and who swirled around her in an endless circle like bats.
Despite her age and apparent fragility, she was always very happy to see us and was warm and welcoming. ‘Come and sit on my lap’ she would say to me, and I would glance at her most hesitantly. I could see that if I were to follow her instructions I would probably snap her bones like twigs, so instead I would go and sit next to her on her bed. She would chatter on for a bit and then instruct one of the maids to go and fetch the small gifts she would always give each of us. We were her great grand nieces and we could not be allowed to go home empty- handed. One of the maids would then appear and hand the old lady a small silver bowl with a tight-fitting lid which she would give me. I am not sure where she kept producing new ones from her endless reserves or if indeed the old ones were returned by my mother to her apartm
ents but I recall that they were the sweetest little silver bowls called ‘katordaans’ which contained a few almonds and Indian candy sugar or ‘misri’. Having done our duty, we were then led back down the endless corridors and finally taken home to a slightly brighter world.
When my mother went to pay her respects to great-aunt, she had to go formally dressed in the traditional ‘poshak’ or the traditional Rajasthani costume worn on formal occasions: this meant that all the necessary jewellery and adornments from the ‘rakhari’ (a jewel worn on the head) to the ‘paijebs’ or anklets on her feet had to be in perfect order. The elderly Rajmata would then ask my mother to come and sit by her side on her bed. Due to her advanced age, her vision was not very good. However, at the same time she wanted to make sure that as the daughter- in- law of the house, my mother was properly attired. She would then proceed to examine her face for the rakhari and then her hands and arms for the bangles, bracelets and bajubandhs (armbands) which were worn around the arms just below the armpits, and then run her hands over her face and ears and throat to check that all the correct pieces of jewellery and adornments were in place. Despite her age, she was sharp enough to spot if something was missing and if so then my mother was ticked off in no uncertain terms as to why she had come to the Fort inappropriately dressed.
Our gossipy old maids used to tell us a story with great relish: apparently there was a time when the Dowager Rajmata was haunted by small Indian house lizards that appeared mysteriously and sometimes fell on top of her, and to add to her woes, would also be occasionally be found in the dishes that had been prepared for her meals, quite naturally putting her off her food. No doubt she was haunted by the spirits of her co-wives, said the maids knowingly. Whether this was true or not, it certainly added to the romance and mystery surrounding her and she outlived several generations before her own death in 1959. I am convinced that she must have had quite a fascinating story to tell about her life. She lived virtually her entire life in strict ‘purdah’ and never left her apartments in Dalel Niwas. I recollect that when great grandaunt died, we were in Bombay at the time, and even though I was quite young I still realised that something serious had happened though I had no notion of what death actually was. My parents immediately made plans to return to Bikaner for the formalities while we remained in Bombay.
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