CONTENTS. Dharwar—Brahmanical Rock-cut Temples. Dharwar. If the province of Orissa is interesting from the completeness and uniformity of its style of Indo-Aryan architecture, that of Dharwar, or, more correctly speaking of Maharastra, is almost equally so from exactly the opposite conditions. In the western province, the Dravidian style struggles with the northern for supremacy during all the earlier stages of their growth, and the mode in which the one influenced the other will be one of the most interesting and instructive lessons we can learn from their study, when the materials exist for a thorough investigation of the architectural history of this province. In magnificence, however, the western can never pretend to rival the eastern province. There are more and far finer buildings in the one city of Bhuvaneswar alone than in all the cities of Maharastra put together, and the extreme elaboration of their details gives the Orissan examples a superiority that the western temples cannot pretend to rival. Among the oldest and most characteristic of the Dharwar temples is that of Papanatha, at Purudkul, or Pittadkul, as it is now spelt. As will be seen from the plan of this temple given above (Woodcut No. 122, page 221), the cell, with its tower, has not the same predominating importance which it always had in Orissa; and instead of a mere vestibule it has a four-pillared porch, which would in itself be sufficient to form a complete temple on the eastern side of India. Beyond this, however, is the great porch, Mantapa, or Jagamohan—square, as usual, but here it possesses sixteen pillars, in four groups, instead of the astylar arrangements so common in the east. It is, in fact, a copy, with very slight alterations, of the plan of the great Saiva temple at the same place (Woodcut No. 189), or the Kylas at Ellora (Woodcut No. 186). These, with others recently brought to light, form a group of early temples wholly Dravidian in style, but having no affinity, except in plan, with the Temple of The external effect of the building may be judged of from the above woodcut (No. 241). The outline of the tower is not unlike that of the Parasurameswara temple at Bhuvaneswar, with which it was probably contemporary—circa A.D. 500—but the central belt is more pronounced, and always apparently was on the west side of India. It will also be observed in this tower that every third course has on the angle a form which has just been described as an amalaka in speaking of the crowning members of Orissan temples. Here it looks The frequency of the repetition of this ornament is, so far as is now known, no bad test of the age of a temple. If an example were found where every alternate course was an amalaka, it probably would be older than any temple we have yet known. It would then represent a series of roofs, five, seven, or nine storeys, built over one another. It had, however, passed into conventionalities before we meet with it. Whenever the temples of this district are thoroughly investigated, they will, no doubt, throw immense light on the early history of the style. Brahmanical Rock-cut Temples. Although the structural temples of the Badami group At Badami there are three caves, not of any great dimensions, but of singular interest from their architectural details and sculptures, and more so from the fact that one of them, No. 3, contains an inscription with an undoubted date upon it. There are, as pointed out above, innumerable Buddhist inscriptions on the western caves, but none with dates from any well-ascertained era, and none, unfortunately, of the Brahmanical caves at Ellora or elsewhere have inscriptions that can be called integral, and not one certainly with a date on it. The consequence is, that the only mode by which their ages could be approximated was by arranging them in sequences, according to our empirical or real knowledge of the history of the period during which they were supposed to have been excavated. At Ellora, for instance, it was assumed that the Buddhist preceded the Brahmanical excavations, and that these were succeeded by the Jaina; and various local and architectural peculiarities rendered this hypothesis extremely probable. Arguing on this basis, it was found that the one chaitya cave there, the Viswakarma, was nearly identical in style with the last of the four chaityas at Ajunta (No. 26), and that cave, for reasons given above, was placed at the end of the 6th century, say A.D. 600. The caves next it were assumed to occupy the 7th century, thus leading on to the Rameswara group, about A.D. 700, and the Jaina group would then have occupied the next century. The age of the Kylas or Dravidian group, being exceptional, could only be determined by extraneous evidence, and, as already pointed out, from its extreme similarity with the great temple at Pittadkul, belongs almost certainly to the 8th century; and from a similar chain of reasoning the Jaina group is brought back to about the same age, or rather earlier, say A.D. 650. The inscription on the No. 3 cave at Badami is dated in the twelfth year of the reign of a well-known king, Mangaliswara, in the 500th year after the inauguration of the Saka king, or in 79; the date therefore is A.D. 579. Admitting, which I think its architecture renders nearly certain, that it is the earliest of the three, still they are so like one another, that the latest must be assumed to have been excavated within the limits of the next century, say A.D. 575-700. Comparing the architecture of this group with that known as the central or Rameswara group at Ellora, it is so nearly identical, that though it may be slightly more modern, it can hardly now be doubted they too, including perhaps the cave known as the Ashes of Ravana, must have been excavated in the 7th century. Instead, therefore, of the sequence formerly adopted, we are forced to fall back on that marvellous picture of religious toleration described by the Chinese Pilgrim as exhibited at Allahabad in the year A.D. 643. On that occasion the King Siladitya distributed alms or gifts to 10,000 priests (religieux), the first day in honour of Buddha, the second of Aditya the Sun (Vishnu?), and the third in honour of Iswara or The truth of the matter is, that one of the greatest difficulties an antiquary experiences before the 8th century, is to ascertain to what divinity any temple or a cave is dedicated. In the three caves, for instance, at Badami, the sculptures are wholly Vaishnava, and no one would doubt that they were dedicated to that deity, but in the sanctuaries of all is the lingam or emblem of Siva. It has been suggested that this may have been an afterthought, but if so the cave must have been without meaning. There is no sinhasan or throne on which an image of a deity could be placed, nor is the cell large enough for that purpose. Unfortunately there are no Buddhist buildings or caves so far south as Badami, and we are consequently deprived of that means for comparison; and before anything very definite can be laid down, it will require that some one familiar with the subject should go over the whole of the western caves, and institute a rigid comparison of their details. Meanwhile, however, the result of the translations of the inscriptions gathered by Mr. Burgess, and of his plans and views, Pending a more complete investigation, which I hope may be undertaken before long, I would propose the following as a tentative chronology of the far-famed series of caves at Ellora:—
The cave at Elephanta follows of course the date here given for the Dhumnar Lena, and must thus date after the middle of the 8th century. These dated caves and buildings have also rendered another service to the science of archÆology, inasmuch as they enable us to state with confidence that the principal caves at Mahavellipore must be circumscribed within the same limits. The architecture there being so lean and poor, is most misleading, but, as hinted above, I believe it arose from the fact that it was Dravidian, and copied literally from structural buildings, by people who had not the long experience of the Buddhists in cave architecture to guide them, for there seems to have been no Buddhists so far south. But be that as it may, a comparison of the Hindu sculptures at Badami with those of Ellora on the one hand, and Mahavellipore on the other, renders it almost absolutely certain that they were practically contemporary. The famous bas-relief of Durga, on her lion, slaying Mahasura, the Minotaur, In a general work like the present it is of course impossible to illustrate so extensive a group as that of the Brahmanical caves to such an extent as to render their history or affinities intelligible to those who have not by other means become familiar with the subject. Fortunately, however, in this instance the materials exist by which any one may attain the desired information with very little difficulty. Daniell’s drawings—or rather Mr. Wales’—made in 1795, have long made the public acquainted with the principal caves at Ellora; Sir Charles Malet’s paper in the sixth volume of the ‘Asiatic Researches;’ Seely’s ‘Wonders of Ellora,’ published in 1820, and numerous other works, with the photographs now available, supply nearly all that can be desired in that direction. The same may be said of Elephanta, 242. Pillar in Kylas, Ellora. (From a Drawing by the Author.) After all, however, the subject is one more suited to the purposes of the mythologist and the sculptor than to the architect. Like all rock-cut examples, except the Dravidian, the caves have the intolerable defect of having no exteriors, and consequently no external architectural form. The only parts of them which strictly belong to architectural art are their pillars, and though a series of them would be interesting, they vary so much, from the nature of the material in which they are carved, and from local circumstances, that they do not possess the same historical significance that external forms would afford. Such a pillar, for instance, as this one from the cave called Lanka, on the side of the pit in which the Kylas stands (Woodcut No. 242), though in exquisite taste as a rock-cut example, where the utmost strength is apparently required to support the mass of rock above, does not afford any points of comparison with structural examples of the same age. In a building it would be cumbersome and absurd; under a mass of rock it is elegant and appropriate. The pillars in the caves at Mahavellipore fail from the opposite fault: they retain their structural form, though used in the rock, and look frail and weak in consequence; but while this diversity in practice prevailed, it prevents their use as a chronometric Though not one of the largest, it is still a fine cave, its verandah measuring 70 ft., with a depth of 50 ft., beyond which is a simple plain cell, containing the lingam. At one end of the verandah is the Narasingha Avatar; at the other end Vishnu seated on the five-headed serpent Ananta. The front pillars have each three brackets, of very wooden design, all of which are ornamented by two or three figures, generally a male and female, with a child or dwarf—all of considerable beauty and delicacy of execution. The inner pillars are varied, and more architectural in their forms, but in the best style of Hindu art. Compared with the style of art found at Amravati, on the opposite coast, it is curious to observe how nearly Buddha, seated on the many-headed Naga, Sometimes the Hindus successfully conquered one of the main difficulties of cave architecture by excavating them on the spur of a So far as I know, there is only one example where the Indo-Aryan architects attempted to rival the Dravidian in producing a monolithic exterior. It is at a place called Dhumnar, in Rajputana, where, as already mentioned (ante, p. 162), there is an extensive series of late Buddhist excavations. In order to mark their triumph over that fallen faith, the Hindus, apparently in the 8th century, drove an open cutting into the side of the hill, till they came to a part high enough for their purpose. Here they enlarged this cutting into a pit 105 ft. by 70 ft., leaving a temple of very elegant architecture standing in the centre, with seven small cells surrounding it, precisely as was done in the case of the Kylas at Ellora. The effect, however, can hardly be said to be pleasing (Woodcut No. 246). A temple standing in a pit is always an anomaly, but in this instance it is valuable as an unaltered example of the style, and as showing how small shrines—which have too often disappeared—were originally With a sufficient number of examples, it would be easy to trace the rise and fall of this cellular system, and few things would be more interesting; for now that we find it in full force in the Buddhist monasteries at Gandhara (ante, p. 171), it would be most important to be able to say exactly when the monk made way to the image. In India Proper there is no instance of this being done in One more illustration must conclude what we have at present to say of Hindu rock-cut temples. It is found near Poonah, and is very little known, though much more appropriate to cave architecture than most examples of its class. The temple itself is a simple pillared hall, with apparently ten pillars in front, and probably had originally a structural sikra built on the upper plateau to mark the position of the sanctuary. The most original part of it, however, is the Nundi pavilion, which stands in the courtyard in front of the temple (Woodcut No. 247). It is circular in plan, and its roof—which is a great slab of rock—is supported by, apparently, sixteen square pillars of very simple form. Altogether it is as appropriate a bit of design as is to be found in Hindu cave architecture. It has, however, the defect only too common in those Hindu excavations—that, being in a pit, it can be looked down upon; which is a test very few buildings can stand, and to which none ought to be exposed. |