Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi: The Jeanne D'Arc of India

by Michael White

  Chapter XXII

  _VICTORY_

  From remote ages Gwalior had been one of the chief cities of India,owing to the immense natural strength of its position. Many races,succeeding one another, had reared their dwellings about the foot ofthe huge pile of rock, rising in grim, deep shadowed precipices on allsides, two to three hundred feet from a broken plain, to a plateaucrowned by the massive fortress, a mile and a half in length by threehundred yards wide. By a single narrow path alone could the summit begained.

  Numerous had been the splendid palaces, temples, and mausoleumserected in the vicinity by dynasties swept away, and ruins only of theBaradari, once the most superb hall of audience in the world, marks thesite of the colossal residence of the Moguls.

  In part skirting the suburbs of the city, the Morar river windsnorthward to its junction with the Chambal, thence its waters reachthe Jumna, to mingle finally with those of the holy Granges. Beyondthe Morar, at a considerable distance rocky hills bordering the plain,afford a first line of defense, the few defiles being easily renderedimpassable by fortified works.

  Such was the place the Rani of Jhansi's daring spirit had determinedto seize. It was rich in long accumulated treasure to refill an emptypurse, rich in the heirlooms of one of the greatest Native families,and in war material to arm new levies of troops, and thus prolong thestrife to an indefinite period. As a prize to fall into her hands,there was scarcely its equal at the moment in India. The moral effectof the successful accomplishment of the act, upon both parties tothe struggle, would almost equal that of the capture of Delhi at thecommencement of hostilities.

  On the morning of the Thirtieth of May, Maharaja Jaiaji Rao Sindhia,the ruling prince of the great Maratha house of Gwalior, had finishedhis devotions and was about to partake of his usual frugal early mealof milk, bread, and fruit, when a servant delivered a surprising, and,on the whole, an unwelcome piece of news.

  An emissary of the Rani of Jhansi had arrived at the palace, andrequested an immediate audience with his Highness.

  During the year past, Sindhia had heard much of the redoutable Princessof Jhansi. He had been told of her beauty, her wisdom, and her valor.He had followed with sympathetic interest the capable administration ofthe government of her state, her defense of Jhansi, and latterly, withsecret regret, the misfortunes which had descended on her head. So muchfor his private feeling toward the Rani.

  But in public he had followed the advice of his astute minister, DinkarRao, who persuaded him to remain an ally of the Foreigners, against hisnatural impulse to cast in his lot with the Native cause. This, for asufficient, if not a patriotic reason. While Sindhia bore no love forthe Foreigners, he experienced less for the Peshwa as the supreme headof the Marathas, and less still, if not actual hatred, for the rulingMohammedan family of Delhi.

  "If," argued Dinkar Rao, "the Foreigners are driven out of India,who will grasp the great scepter? Surely either the Peshwa or theEmperor of Delhi. What then will become of Maharaja Sindhia? He willbe, as of old, a feudatory of an avaricious Native monarch. Better isit to submit to the lesser evil, the comparatively light yoke of theForeigners."

  Maharaja Sindhia perceived the wisdom of his minister's argument, andin spite of the execrations of his troops and people, remained theForeigners' faithful ally, when his influence cast into the scale onthe other side, might have ended their rule in India.

  His first thought on hearing of the arrival of the Rani's messenger,was that she was about to look to him for an asylum of refuge. Underthe circumstances he devoutly wished she would seek the protection ofsome other prince. Her presence in Gwalior would surely again stir uphis people, many of whom, without his permission, had joined the ranksof the Native army. Then if he were compelled to hand her over to theForeigners, the act would be so unpopular, that it might be unsafe forhim to remain in his own state. He reasoned thus, while he sent inhaste for his minister to take advice before consenting to receive theRani's envoy.

  Dinkar Rao was as much perturbed as his master over the intelligence.He hastened to Sindhia, resolved to urge a refusal of the Rani'spetition whatever might be its import. He, too, arrived at the hastyconclusion that she was desirous of seeking a refuge in Gwalior. Itwould, he reasoned with the unscrupulous nature of a born diplomat,have laid the Foreigners under a lasting debt of gratitude, if shecould be tricked by fair promises to place herself in Sindhia's power,and then handed over to the mercy of her enemies. But he fearedthe vengeance of the people, who regarded her as the champion of arighteous cause. At all costs the Rani of Jhansi must be kept away fromGwalior.

  These sentiments he strenuously urged upon Sindhia, before it wasdecided to accord the interview.

  Prasad Singh entered Sindhia's presence as became the emissary of agreat princess. He saluted the Maharaja with dignified respect, andthen proceeded to unfold his mission.

  The Rani of Jhansi, he announced, with other illustrious princes andgenerals, and an army of eight thousand men, were now encamped atBahadurpur nine miles distant.

  Both Sindhia and Dinkar Rao started. This was not the usual way afugitive sought protection. They at once perceived a greater peril inthe situation than they had imagined. Not that they feared for Gwalioritself as a fortress, but concerning the people. Could they depend uponthe fidelity of their troops in such an emergency? Against any otherleader, probably; but the name of the Rani of Jhansi made it more thandoubtful. In the temples prayers were constantly rising for her safety.

  Sindhia replied to the envoy, by asking the purpose of the Rani ofJhansi at the head of so large a force within his territory.

  "Her Highness," Prasad returned evasively, "is but marching fromGopalpur to the north, and has halted to pay her respects to the greatMaharaja of Gwalior. She is desirous of a personal interview with aprince of whom she has heard so many words of praise."

  Sindhia's feelings were stirred conflictingly. He would have sacrificedmuch personally to behold the woman, of whom all men spoke in suchenthusiastic terms. He would have been glad to receive her with thehighest honors; but the shadows of the Peshwa, the Emperor, and theForeigners haunted his mind.

  "Doth the Rani then desire to enter Gwalior"? he asked anxiously.

  "Such, my Lord Sindhia," Prasad replied, "is far from her Highness'spresent intention. She trusts to meet the great ruler of Gwalior merelyin friendly intercourse at some point without the city. To this endonly do my instructions extend."

  Sindhia found himself in a dilemma. To refuse this apparently simplerequest might seem an ungracious act. Besides, he was anxious to judgeof the beauty and charm of which others raved continually. Surely therecould be little harm in extending to her this outward mark of hisrespect. If the Foreigners blamed him subsequently, he could plead thedanger of the situation. He might even assert that his object was tourge upon her to surrender.

  But Dinkar Rao was of a different mind. His master's _zanana_, tenantedby more than one beauty, was a conspicuous proof of the youthfulMaharaja's susceptibility to the charms of fair women. Whatever covertobject the Rani might have in view, and from her character he suspectedan ulterior design cloaked by the harmless nature of her request,he feared that Sindhia would be carried away by her smile if not byher force of argument. So he took upon himself to reply by a pointedquestion.

  "Thus far, well, my Lord Prasad Singh, but the Maharaja Sindhia shouldbe informed first, how it comes about that the Rani of Jhansi prefersher request with an armed force so near to Gwalior, instead of sendingforth her envoy from the boundary of the state, asking permission toapproach the capital. To my mind it does not display great respect onher part for the authority of Maharaja Sindhia."

  The concluding statement was directed as much to the sensibility ofhis master as it was by way of reply to the Rani's envoy. It had thedesigned effect. Sindhia's pride was nettled.

  "Aye," he acquiesced. "My minister speaks wisely. Doth the Rani ofJhansi suppose my territory is to be invaded at the will of anyneighboring ruler? That question must be ans
wered to our satisfaction."

  "My Lord Maharaja," Prasad replied. "I have no doubt the Rani will,herself, make her action excusable to your Highness. We live in timesof strife when the customs of peace are swept aside out of necessity.Your Highness, as a great Indian prince, will surely not view withdisfavor the Rani's conduct in defending her rights against theForeigners."

  The appeal touched Sindhia's heart. Before his mind rose the image ofthe valiant Princess, fighting for her throne, their united country andreligion. He hesitated to return an answer. It was a critical momentfor the fortunes of his house.

  Dinkar Rao quickly perceived the effect of the sympathetic chordtouched by the envoy. He seized the opportunity to impress upon hismaster's ears a discordant note.

  "Of the misfortunes of the Rani of Jhansi," he said, "Maharaja Sindhiacannot be unmindful, but," he added with significance, "among herallies are representatives of the Peshwa and the Emperor. These areno friends of Sindhia. Rather are they more his enemies than theForeigners. It is my advice that the Maharaja does not meet the Raniwith these people. It is my advice that he doth require the Rani toimmediately withdraw from his dominions."

  "Aye, thou speakest well, Dinkar Rao," remarked Sindhia. "The RaoSahib has no right to come with armed men into my territory."

  Prasad was not prepared for this trend of argument. He again besoughtSindhia to grant the Rani her request; but Dinkar Rao's policyprevailed. Sindhia would not receive her in such company as that ofthe Rao Sahib and Ahmad Khan. She must retreat beyond his bordersforthwith, or abide the consequences. Such was his ultimate decision.He was probably glad to be afforded so plausible an excuse for refusinghospitality to the Foreigners' enemy.

  Thus Prasad was reluctantly obliged to return to the Rani's camp withthe information that his mission had failed.

  "So Dinkar Rao," the Rani cried, "is fearful that I might win hismaster to our cause. We will then take his capital."

  On the First of June the sun rose to discover the armies of the Raniof Jhansi and Maharaja Sindhia confronting each other on the plain ofGwalior. In the distance the great rock with its fortifications stoodout defiantly against the sky.

  Overnight, Sindhia had been informed that the Rani's forces, so farfrom obeying his injunction to retire from his state, were advancingupon the city. It left him no alternative but to give battle.

  Sindhia had occupied a strategic position on rising ground, his flanksprotected by squadrons of cavalry, his center formed by artillery. Asplendid body of six hundred nobles and retainers guarded the person ofthe Maharaja.

  Her horse leaped forward, straight for Sindhia'sguns.--Page 255.]

  Across the plain, the Rani had thrown out a light screening force ofskirmishers. Behind these she had placed herself at the head of herValaitis, with Prasad bearing her standard once more proudly aloft.Again in rear was her artillery and infantry, with the remainder of hercavalry under Ahmad Khan in reserve, either to support her in case ofneed, or to dash for Gwalior the moment the day was won.

  The Rani wore on her head a Persian cap of steel, richly ornamentedwith figures of beaten gold, a spike of the same precious metal, andfeathery aigrettes. Her hands and wrists were protected by gauntletsof metal scale work. It was evident she did not intend to direct thebattle from a spot secure from the danger of shot or blows. Every inchdid she appear as one of those intrepid Maratha warriors, who haddefied the power of the great Mogul, in order to carve kingdoms andprincipalities for themselves out of his empire.

  Presently Sindhia's guns opened on the advancing foe. They swept theopen space between the two armies with devastating force, driving theRani's skirmishers back upon the main body. For a few minutes the smokehid the two forces from each other. It was the moment the Rani lookedfor to deliver a telling blow.

  She turned in her saddle and raised her sword. A bugle rang out theclear notes of the charge. Her horse leaped forward straight forSindhia's guns, with her troopers thundering in her wake. Onward shedashed heedless, and unharmed by the shot and shell, up to the wall ofsmoke, and through it to the belches of cannon flame. With a terrificyell her troopers came upon the gunners, driving them from their posts.Sindhia's first line broke and fled. The Rani had captured his guns.

  Sindhia's glance swept over the field in alarm. He had ordered hisinfantry to support the artillery and they had refused to obey. If hisears did not deceive him, they were shouting the Rani of Jhansi's name.A decisive moment had come. Something must be done or the battle waslost. He ordered his bodyguard to charge before the Rani's trooperscould reform or she could receive support.

  The Rani accepted the challenge, rallied her troopers as best shecould, and boldly fronted the oncoming force. The shock was terrific,the ensuing _melee_ of cursing, shouting, fighting horsemen, desperate.In the heart of it all the Rani's sword flashed above her head,delivering sweeping blows. Wherever her standard, slashed and piercedwith sabre cuts and bullets, waved, there the fight seemed hottest. Herlife appeared to be shielded by a charm. At one time she had cut herway near to Sindhia's person.

  "Sindhia! Sindhia"! she cried. "Art thou as much afraid of the Rani'ssword as thou art of her eyes. Stay but a moment, as I would exchange afew strokes with thee."

  But Sindhia had seen enough of the day. The ferocious Valaitis wererouting his bodyguard, his infantry had gone over to the enemy, theRani's main force was advancing to cut off his retreat. In the distancehe beheld the enemy's reserve cavalry sweeping across the plain toseize his capital. With a few horsemen, he turned and galloped from thefield to his Foreign allies at Agra.

  A great victory had at last crowned the Rani's arms, the battle ofBahadurpur was won; she had kept her promise, Gwalior lay at her feet.