p. 1

To-day nearly eleven millions of men, forming about half the entire population of the Bombay Presidency (minus its unnatural adjunct, Sindh), speak Marathi, and another nine millions living in the Central Provinces, the Nizam's Dominions, and other parts, claim the same language as their mother-tongue.* This language has been steadily gaining ground since the days of the Peshwas, and its peaceful annexation of the children of ruder and less literary tongues has gone on unabated even during the British period. But the Maratha country is not coextensive with the land where the Marathi speech prevails to-day. * The Census of 1911 showed a total of 19.8 millions as speaking Marathi (against 18.23 millions in 1901.) Of this total 10.74 millions live in Bombay and its States, 4.8 millions in the C. P., and 3.5 millions in the Haidarabad State. Marathi is spoken by above 86 p.c. of the population of the Konkan division, 85 p.c. of the Deccan division, and nearly 54 p.c. of Bombay city. In the C. P. 31 p.c. and in the Haidarabad State 26 p.c. of the population speak it.

p. 2

Four centuries ago the name Maha-rashtra was confined to the western edge of the Deccan plateau, i.e., to a tract bounded on the north by the Tapti, on the south by the upper courses of the Krishna (probably the Warna), and on the east by the Sina.* The cradle-land of Maharashtra was, therefore, formed by the Nasik, Puna and Satara districts, parts of Ahmadnagar and Sholapur, and probably the western corner of Aurangabad,—a rough total of 28,000 square miles. The Maratha race was also settled in Konkan or the narrow land between the Western Ghats and the Indian Ocean. Here the districts of Thana, Kolaba and Ratnagiri and the State of Savant-vadi,—with a total area of over 10,000 square miles,—are now predominantly Marathi-speaking; but in the 16th century a considerable portion of the population, probably one-half, belonged to other races and spoke other tongues. * "The word Dekkan expresses the country watered by the upper Godavari and that lying between that river and the Krishna. The name Maharashtra also seems at one time to have been restricted to this tract. For that country is, in the Puranas and other works, distinguished on the one hand from Northern Konkan and from the regions on either side of the Narmada and the Tapti, as well as from Vidarbha" or Berar. (Bom. Gaz. i. pt. ii. p. 134, 587; xxiv. 81.)

pp. 2-3

Four centuries ago the population of Maharashtra was very thin and forests covered much of the land. The western edge of the Deccan plateau is subject to a low and uncertain rainfall, cultivation is poor and precarious, and it is only along the narrow margins of the few rivers that the peasant is assured of a good return for his labour. From nearly the whole of the Western Deccan the heavy clouds of the S. W. monsoon are either shut out by the Ghat range, or, if they surmount this barrier, they sail away to the east leaving the land unwatered and untilled, so that "the Deccan, generally speaking, yields to much labour a bare measure of subsistence."* (Moral and Mat. Prog. 1911-12, p. 10.) * The rain is precipitated on the coast-line [i.e., Konkan] at an average of 100 to 120 inches [in the year.] Once the crest [of the Western Ghats] is passed, the precipitation decreases very rapidly, until a belt is reached only 35 miles from the hills where the rainfall is very precarious and averages only about 17 inches. Further east again, the S. W. monsoon is nearly spent, but the influence of the N. E. monsoon begins to be felt and the rainfall improves...South of Khandesh, we get the Deccan proper divided into three tracts [running parallel to the Ghats and called] the Dang or Maval to the west, the Transition in the centre, and the Desh, or black-soil plain to the east. The soil, however, is not fertile, and there are ranges of bare rocky hills running east and west, spurs so to speak of the Ghats, which neither store water for cultivation nor attract the rainfall...The Karnatak [i.e., the Dharwar, Belgaum, and Bijapur districts] has a more certain and more copious rainfall and more fertile soil. (Census of India, 1911, vii. pt. I, pp. 4-6.)

p. 3

The western hilly belt is called Dang in the north (i.e., Baglana), Maval in the centre (i.e., the Nasik, Puna and Satara districts), and Mallad in the south (i.e., Karnatak.) The Konkan, on the other hand, is an area of certain and heavy rainfall, with rice for the predominant crop, "and along the sea-coast, wherever there is any soil... a fringe of palms, mango-groves and plaintain orchards add to the beauty of the landscape and the wealth of the inhabitants, Thana and Kanara are forest-clad districts." (Ibid.)

p. 4

In such a soil rice cultivation is impossible, and wheat and barley grow in very small quantities. The staple crop of most of this region is the hardy millet,—jawari, bajra and ragi or maize. But even these cannot always be depended upon. One year the rain would fail, the sprouting plants would be scorched by the sun or the young heads of grain would shrink and wither before they can grow to fulness and ripen, and there would be famine throughout the length and breadth of the land. The soil, covered with bare rock at places and with only a thin layer of mould at others, would be baked to a brown dust, not a green blade would be seen anywhere, and in addition to the human victims the cattle would perish by tens of thousand.

pp. 4-5

§2. Isolation of the People. The broken rocky nature of the country and its abundance of forests, while it kept the population down, also made travelling difficult and unprofitable. There were no rich courts, populous cities or thriving marts to attract merchants. Nor were there regular occasions for the march of large bodies of soldiers, as from one province of a compact and mighty empire to another. The country was cut up by Nature into small compartments in which the natives lived isolated self-contained lives, the world forgetting and by the world forgot.

p. 5

This was true in a special degree of the belt lying immediately east of the Ghats. The empires of the central and more level portion of the table-land, both in Hindu times and Muslim, had sent forth their conquering hosts westwards, but the flood of invasion had been broken at the foot of the hills or their numerous spurs, or, where a thin stream of it had poured through the passes, it had retired after a short and unprofitable stay. In their rugged and inhospitable nooks the natives had found safety and peace, while the richer plains had been the scenes of revolution and rapine.

p. 5

This natural isolation of the western belt was no doubt occasionally broken by the pilgrim, the trader, and the soldier of fortune. Across this rugged tract lay all the routes from the ocean-ports of our western coast to the rich capitals and marts of Central Deccan. Through it alone could the stream of recruits from Persia, Arabia, Turkey, Abyssinia and even Central Asia reach the welcoming Muslim Courts of Kulbarga, Bidar, Ahmadnagar, Bijapur and Golkonda. Through Maharashtra alone could the cloth, metal-ware and spices of the upper Godavari and Krishna valleys reach their ports of embarkation for Europe.

pp. 5-6

Then, again, the sterile soil discouraged its sons from the thankless task of tilling it. Strong muscles and stout hearts found greater rewards and a higher position by serving in the armies of the mighty monarchies of the central plateau. An able partisan leader was sure of high pay, noble rank, and it might be the proud position of a king-maker, at any of these Courts, which were constantly at war with their neighbours, and prepared to bid high for the lances of useful condottieri from the Desh tract. But such occasional visitors only brought a breath of the outer world to the sequestered vales of Maharashtra; they did not disturb the noiseless tenor of the life of the natives, for the natives themselves had hardly occasion to move. Even when they went abroad as soldiers, they usually settled there in the fiefs given to them and rarely returned to their barren ancestral homes.

pp. 6-7

The Maratha people's inborn love of independence and isolation was greatly helped by Nature, which provided them with many ready-made and easily defensible forts close at hand, where they could quickly flee for refuge and whence they could offer a tenacious resistance. Unlike the Gangetic plain, this country could not be conquered and annexed by one cavalry dash or even one year's campaigning. Here the natives had the chance of making a long struggle against superior numbers and, it may be, of recovering their own when the invader was worn out. "The whole of the Ghats and neighbouring mountains often terminate towards the top in a wall of smooth rock, the highest points of which, as well as detached portions on insulated hills, form natural fortresses, where the only labour required is to get access to the level space, which generally lies on the summit. Various princes at different times have cut flights of steps or winding roads up the rocks, fortified the entrance with a succession of gateways, and erected towers to command the approaches; and thus studded the whole of the region about the Ghats and their branches with forts." "In many of them there are springs of the finest water, and in all a supply can be secured, in tanks or reservoirs, during the periodical rains from May to October." The soft trap dissolving has exposed the hard basalt in steep scarped precipices and smooth tops, which form natural forts.

pp. 7-8

§3. Poverty, simplicity and equality of society. In such a country no man can afford to lead a sheltered life. There was no parasite class in ancient Maharashtra. Even the village headmen, who neither sowed nor spun, had to work as collectors of revenue, local judges and parochial policemen, to earn the fee on which they lived. There was hardly a rich man, except the trader who was also the only banker of this primitive society. Even the landlords were rich rather in grain-heaps and armed retainers than in gold and silver.* Some temples, especially at the chief centres of pilgrimage, had accumulations of wealth, but their income was precarious, entirely dependent on voluntary gift, and incomparably smaller than the riches of the grand Madras temples. * Elphinstone's History, 6th ed. 615. Duff. i. 7. Bom. Gaz., xviii. pt. 1, pp. 9-10; xix. 16.

pp. 8-9

In a society so circumstanced, every man, and often every woman, has to work and work with the hand. Elegance and refinement cannot grow here. If culture can be rightly defined as the employment of the intellect in pleasure, then there is no room for culture among men who have to sacrifice pleasure to the bare necessaries of life. Where Nature enforces a Spartan simplicity, there can be no luxury, no learned leisure (except among the priests), no aesthetic development, no polished manners even. The Marathas, when they rose to political power, did not impress the subject population favourably. To the over-polished decadents of the Mughal capitals, the warriors from the South appeared as a race of upstarts, insolent in prosperity, and lacking in grace, refinement and even good manners. They had no taste for the fine arts, no elegance of address, no aptitude for the amenities of social life. Even their horsemanship was awkward and graceless, though eminently practical. The period of Maratha ascendency has not left India richer by a single grand building, or beautiful picture, or finely written manuscript. Even the palaces of the Peshwas are low, mean-looking, flimsy structures, with small rooms and narrow staircases—relieved from utter insignificance only by their richly carved wooden facade.

p. 9

§4. Maratha character. But such a country and climate have their compensating advantages, too. They develop self-reliance, courage, perseverance, a stern simplicity, a rough straightforwardness, a sense of social equality and consequently pride in the dignity of man as man. As early as the 7th century of the Christian era, a learned Chinese traveller thus noted the character of the Maratha people living in the more prosperous Central Deccan: "The inhabitants are proud-spirited and warlike, grateful for favours and revengeful for wrongs, self-sacrificing towards suppliants in distress and sanguinary to death with any who treated them insultingly." (Watters's Yuan Chwang, ii. 239.) "If they are going to seek revenge, they first give their enemy warning." (Beal, ii. 256.)

pp. 9-10

This racial character was somewhat modified in the course of the next ten centuries. The disappearance of the protective influence of the large Hindu monarchies of the province, the growing rigour of the Muslim occupation of the country, and the ravages of constant warfare between rival States, forced the remnant of the Maratha population to be more cunning and less chivalrous. Shivaji did not "first give warning" to Afzal or Shaista Khan.* * In 1880 an English observer wrote of the Maratha peasantry (of the Kunbi caste), "They are hard-working, temperate, hospitable, fond of their children and kind to strangers. At the same time they are cruel in revenge, and seldom scruple to cheat either Government or their creditors." (Bom. Gaz. xviii. pt. I, 288.)

p. 10

But the basis of their character remained the same,—activity, courage, self-reliance, self-respect and love of equality. With the loss of their own cities and capitals on the Godavari and the Krishna in the 14th century, they were pressed back to the sterile western edge of the plateau and became poorer and more isolated. In the lonely struggle with Nature and beasts, they developed greater cunning, without losing their valour and hardiness. Indeed, in their combination of courage, cleverness and power of endurance,—in their ability to plan and execute surprises and night-attacks, in the skill of their soldiers to extricate themselves from a tight corner or vary their tactics according to the changing phases of a battle, without waiting for guidance from a superior,—the Marathas resemble the Afghans most among all Asiatic races.

pp. 10-11

Social distinctions were fewer and much less sharp among the 16th century Marathas than among richer and more civilised communities. The rich man was not immeasurably above the poor in such a simple society; and even the poorest man had his value as a fighter or indispensable labourer; at least, he preserved his self-respect, because where few had anything to spare, none was tempted to lead the pampered life of the professional beggars and hangers-on of Agra or Delhi.

p. 11

Poverty and immemorial custom alike preserved the womankind of Maharashtra (except among those castes that aspired to be Kshatriyas) from seclusion in the harem, and thus the effective strength of society was doubled, while life gained in health and sweetness.

p. 11

§5. Religious teachers. The same sense of equality was fostered by religion. The Brahmans, no doubt, tried to maintain their monopoly of the sacred lore and their aloofness from other castes as a sort of spiritual aristocracy. But strong religious movements arose and swept through the length and breadth of the land, teaching the sanctity of conduct rather than mere birth, the superiority of a living personal faith to mere ritual, and the oneness of all true believers before God. These popular movements were hostile to the haughty claims of the Brahman hierarchy, and their chief centre was Pandharpur, one of the most famous seats of pilgrimage in the land.

pp. 11-12

"Like the Protestant Reformation in Europe in the 16th century, there was a religious, social, and literary revival and Reformation in India, but notably in the Deccan in the 15th and 16th centuries. This religious revival was not Brahmanical in its orthodoxy; it was heterodox in its spirit of protest against forms and ceremonies and class distinctions based on birth, and ethical in its preference of a pure heart, and of the law of love, to all other acquired merits and good works. This religious revival was the work also of the people, of the masses, and not of the classes. At its head were saints and prophets, poets and philosophers, who sprang chiefly from the lower orders of society,—tailors, carpenters, potters, gardeners, shop-keepers, barbers, and even mahars (scavengers)—more often than Brahmans. The names of Tukaram [born about 1568], of Ramdas [b. 1608], of Vaman Pandit [b. 1636], and of Eknath [b. 1528] still retain their ascendency over the minds of the people of Maharashtra." (Ranade, 10; also Bom. Gaz. xx. 473; Sardesai, i. 38-78.)

p. 12

The fairs held at the chief places of pilgrimage on particular holy days tended to foster a sense of Hindu unity, like the national games of ancient Greece, though to a lesser extent, because caste has always remained with us a disintegrating force. These shrines became distributing centres of cult and culture, and broke down tribal or parochial narrowness, though imperceptibly.

pp. 12-13

§6. Literature and Language. Literature afforded another bond of union in Maharashtra. Its themes were taken from the ancient scriptures and epics which are the heritage of all the Hindus. The devotional songs and moral maxims of popular teachers like Tukaram and Ramdas, Vaman Pandit and Moro Pant, made their way to every home where Marathi letters could be read. "In every town and village in the Deccan and Konkan, especially during the rains, the pious Maratha will be found enjoying with his family and friends the recitation of the Pothi of Shridhar [b. 1679], and enjoying it indeed. Except an occasional gentle laugh, or a sigh, or a tear, not a sound disturbs the rapt silence of the audience, unless when one of those passages of supreme pathos is reached, which affects the whole of the listeners simultaneously with an outburst of emotion which drowns the voice of the reader." (Acworth's Ballads, xxvii.)

p. 13

The simplicity and uniformity of early Maratha society are also reflected in the language. Their poetry consisted of short jingles and apopthegms or monotonous metrical couplets like the epics,—with no lyric outburst, no long-flowing sonorous verses, no delicate play on the whole gamut of sounds. Like the other daughters of Sanskrit, the Marathi vernacular had no literary prose till well into the 18th century. The prose that was created by the official class in their letters and chronicles, was a barbarous jargon composed nearly three-fourths of Persian words and grotesque literal translations of Persian idioms. The highly Sanskritised, elegant and varied prose that is now used, is a creation of the British period. (Rajwade, viii. Intro, fully discusses the Persian element.)

pp. 13-14

"On the whole it may be said that the written [Marathi] poetry, consisting as it does in such very large measure of moral disquisitions and reflections, and the praises of this deity or that, is little known to the ryots and the Mavalis of Maharashtra, and that it would not command their attention or admiration if it were known... In Maharashtra, where the immense majority of the peasantry can neither read nor write, it is a mere truism to say that the literature of their country is absolutely unknown to them.* It is not to be supposed, however, that they are without a poetry of their own. With the Marathas, the feelings of the commons have taken shape in the ballads, which are the genuine embodiment of national enthusiasm...Over the plains of the Deccan, and the deep valleys and bold ridges of the Sahyadris, from village to village, the humble Gondhali (minstrel) still travels, and still to rapt and excited audiences sings of the great days when the armed fathers of the men around him gave laws at the spear's point to all the princes of India, or retreated wounded and dismayed before the sword of the sea-dwelling stranger." (Acworth and Shaligram, Powadas, i and ii.) * But the entire mass of legends and traditions of the race was the common property of all classes of people throughout the land and gave them cultural homogeneity.

pp. 14-15

But this national ballad literature was the creation of the age of Shivaji and his successors. Not only was their literature poor, but their popular spoken tongue was a rough practical speech, incapable of expressing the ceremonious courtesy, indirectness, and delicate shades of meaning of the highly developed Urdu language.

p. 15

The democratic temper of the Maratha people is shown by their having no respectful mode of address like the ap ("your honour") of Northern India; all ranks are theed and thoued.

p. 15

Thus, a remarkable community of language, creed, and life was attained in Maharashtra in the 17th century, even before political unity was conferred by Shivaji. What little was wanting to the solidarity of the people was supplied by his creation of a national State, the long struggle with the invader from Delhi under his sons, and the imperial expansion of the race under the Peshwas. Thus, in the end a tribe,—or rather a collection of tribes and castes,—was fused into a nation* and by the end of the 18th century a Maratha people in the political and cultural senses of the term had been formed, though caste distinctions still remained. Thus history has moulded society. * "The Marathas are a nation, and from the Brahman to the ryot they glory in the fact." (Acworth and Shaligram's Powadas, iii.)

pp. 15-16

§7. Maratha soldiers and peasants of to-day. The backbone of Shivaji's army was composed of the peasantry, who belonged to two low castes, named Maratha and Kunbi. The Maratha caste,—a name which should not be applied to all Marathi-speaking people in general,—numbered five millions and the Kunbis (of the Bombay Presidency alone), two and a half millions, in 1911, and they bear the following character in our times: "As a class, Marathas (i.e., the caste so called) are simple, frank, independent and liberal, courteous, and, when kindly treated, trusting. They are a manly and intelligent race, proud of their former greatness, fond of show, and careful to hide poverty...Stronger, more active, and better made than the Kunbis, many of the Marathas, even among the poorer classes, have an air of refinement. (They take animal food, including fowls, and drink toddy and other liquors, like the Kunbis.) No caste supplies the Bombay army with so many recruits as the Ratnagiri Marathas. Others go into the police or find employment as messengers. Like the Kunbis, orderly, well-behaved, and good-tempered, the Marathas surpass them in courage and generosity. Very frugal, unassuming, respectable and temperate,... they are a very religious class."

pp. 16-17

"The Deccan Kunbis are [now] all cultivators, steady and hard-working...A very quiet, easy-tempered and orderly class, singularly free from crime, they have much respect for the gods. In the Deccan they are strong, hardy, enduring and muscular, [but in Konkan, smaller, darker and more slightly made.] The Kunbi women, like their husbands, are strong and hardy, but the veiled Maratha women are generally weak...Widows are generally allowed to marry." (Bomb. Gaz., xxiv. 70; x. 123, 121; xviii. pt. i, 285, 307.)

p. 17

§8. Defects of the Maratha character. We shall now turn to the other traits of the Maratha character. When a Government lives on plunder as a regular source of supply, its officers naturally see no immorality in taking bribes for themselves. The ethics of the servant easily slide off into the ethics of the master. These Indian Spartans with their simplicity, hardiness and sense of equality, were no more proof against corruption than the Spartans of ancient Greece. Contemporary travellers have noticed how greedy of bribes the Brahman officers of the Maratha State were, even under the great Shivaji.

pp. 17-18

The chief defect of the Marathas, which has disastrously reacted on their political history, is their lack of business capacity. This race has produced no great banker, trader, captain of industry, or even commissariat organiser or contractor. Hence, on the economic side, in the broadest sense of the term, the Maratha administration was very weak. The Peshwas, in spite of the dazzling brilliancy of their political success, were bankrupts from the days of the great Baji Rao I. onwards. Even Shivaji had repeated money difficulties during his short reign,—though in his case it was due not so much to real insolvency, as to his aversion to touch his hoarded treasure for the annual expenses of his army.

p. 18

But the Marathas have a historic advantage of unique importance in the India of to-day. Their near ancestors had faced death in a hundred battle-fields, had led armies and debated in the chamber of diplomacy, had managed the finances of kingdoms and grappled with the problems of empire; they had helped to make Indian history in the immediate and not yet forgotten past. The memory of these things is a priceless asset to their race. In the combination of intellectual keenness, patient industry, simplicity of life, devotion to the nobler ideals of man, in the courage necessary for translating thought into deed, in the spirit of sacrifice, grit of character, and a diffused sense of democratic equality, the vast middle class of modern Maharashtra have no superior and hardly any equal among the other races of India. Would that they also possessed the organising skill, the power of co-operation, the tact in the management of instruments and colleagues, the foresight, and the saving common sense of the Anglo-Saxon race!