It has been generally accepted for some time that among the most valuable sources for the history of Rājasthān, especially the Rājasthān of the fourteenth to the eighteenth centuries A.D., are the indigenous chronicles (vātas and khyātas), whose existence was well-known even to Tod, but which fell once again into obscurity for the hundred years following the publication of Annals and Antiquities of Rajast'han in 1829–32. It is therefore a matter of no small pleasure that, during the past decade or so, many of these texts have at last been finding their way into print. Our thanks in this matter are particularly due to the Rajasthan Oriental Research Institute centred in Jodhpur and to the Sadu} Rajasthani Research Institute of Blkaner, who have led the field in the publication of Rajasthani works of both historical and literary interest. This activity on the part of the publishers will certainly add impetus to research on mediaeval Rajasthan, and for this reason, as well as the obvious philological interest of a language as fully-attested and yet linguistically isolated as that of the Rajasthani prose chronicles, it has seemed worth while to prepare these grammatical notes.

Historians of the early phases of British conquest in India have until recent years given comparatively little attention to the economic elements in British expansion. Historians of the late nineteenth or early twentieth century generally portrayed conquest as a largely defensive reaction to French rivalry or to the instability created by the collapse of the Mughal empire. The commercial functions of the East India Company were largely ignored; if they were mentioned at all it was only to point out that the Directors of the Company believed that costly wars and conquests were incompatible with successful trade and therefore took a jaundiced view of the supposed ambitions of Warren Hastings and Wellesley. Wellesley. In 1948, however, in his John Company at Work, Professor Holden Furber both revealed a much more complex pattern of British economic interests in India, including an extremely vigorous private sector operating in the interstices of the Company's monopoly, and suggested a number of links between ‘economic contact between India and the west’ and the rise of British ‘imperialism’. More recently, historians have begun to examine such links in detail in studies of specific parts of India. The extent to which the British had entrenched themselves in the economic life of Bengal long before Plassey, was noted by Dr Bhattacharya in his The East India Company and the Economy of Bengal, a book which prompts questions about the extent to which Siraj-ud-daula or Mir Kasim were victims of British economic success.

The fate of urban centres in eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century India has attracted attention far in excess of their supposed importance as population centres. It is assumed that flourishing towns are an indicator of economic development and change in their hinterlands. Muslim historians traditionally laid stress on the opulence of towns as a gauge of the wealth of divisions of the Moghul Empire. Recently, Indian historians of the Medieval period have returned to the theme, claiming for the Moghul cities large populations, developed ‘industries’ and sophisticated credit systems. Throughout these works there is an implicit paralled drawn with the point it is suggested that far from being mere administrative centers and entrepots for ‘aristocratic’ long-distance trade, these cities were exchange marts for wealthy hinterlands where agreculturalists exchanged thier products of ‘urban industries’. It is but a short step to argue that these cities weakened by the anarchy of the eighteenth century, were finally ruined by the negligent commercial amorality of the East India Company. The claim by early British writers that the security of British rule encouraged the growth of urban communities in which merchants secured relief from the vexations of local potentates and innumerable minor transit duties is rejected This argument for town decline first revived by Professor Irfan Habib almost as a throwaway, has recently been followed by other younger Indian Marxist historians.

It has been customary to view the effects of the British annexation of the Ceded and Conquered Provinces (1801–3) in terms of an abrupt caesura. Upon the whirling anarchy of the North Indian scene there suddenly fell the Pax Britannica. A political revolution was worked almost overnight. The tide of Sikh expansion was checked and turned back, Jat power penned in Bharatpur, Sindhia driven across the Chambal to his matchless rock citadel at Gwalior, and the Oudh nawabi stripped of its Doab, Rohilkhand and eastern districts. The second line of the political elite could not long survive this dismantling of the superior political structure. Although, at first, expediency impelled the use of large-scale intermediaries, the assertiveness of British rule and its hunger for revenue could tolerate no more than could the Mughals the existence of tall poppies along the principal strategic highway of its power between Benares and Delhi; and on their part the number of magnates capable of keeping their footing and making the rapid adjustment from warlordism to estate management were few indeed. Within two decades of 1801 a large proportion of the established magnates had been swept from the scene, and the remainder were finding that the sun of official favour had gone down while it was yet day.

Historians of early British administration in India have traditionally focused their attention upon the two major ‘systems’ of that administration—the ryotwari and zamindari land revenue settlements, or variations thereof. This is understandable: these systems provide a convenient framework within which to measure variations in administrative policy and consequent social and economic results. This preoccupation seems further justified by the attention that was given to the merits of these systems by officials high in the Company's administration in India and London in the early nineteenth century.