Empire of the Moghul: Brothers at War

by Alex Rutherford

  ‘I bring you this gift, Majesty, as a small token of my loyalty.’

  ‘I thank you. I am also pleased that you have come to recognise me as your overlord once more. You were not always so ready to answer my call.’

  Uzad Beg flushed. ‘Majesty, circumstances alone prevented me for a while, and after that you had left Hindustan.’

  ‘You could have followed me into exile.’

  ‘I had my throne and family to protect,’ Uzad Beg stammered.

  Humayun decided that enough was enough.‘Circumstances have conspired against us all over the last years. Bygones must be bygones. I am glad that you offer your submission once more and I accept it in the spirit in which it is rendered. How many men can you contribute to my forces?’

  ‘Eight hundred well-equipped cavalry can join you within days on your march south.’

  ‘I would like your son here to come as their commander,’ Humayun said, conscious that the presence of Murad Beg with his army would be an effective guarantee of his father’s good behaviour.

  ‘I was going to suggest it myself, Majesty.’

  The early April sun had only been up for three hours when Humayun with Akbar and Bairam Khan at his side breasted the crest of the last of a series of high ridges in the Punjab and saw before him the massive sandstone fortress of Rohtas. It sat on the top of a low rocky outcrop on the plain below, overlooking the junction of roads leading south from the north and east. As he had pushed further into Hindustan, Humayun had still faced no significant opposition. Instead, Uzad Beg had been followed by many other defecting vassals of Islam Shah. So vehement had they been in their denunciation of their former overlord and in their vows of loyalty and support that Humayun had subsequently advised young Akbar never to take such protestations at face value. After all, several had previously shifted their loyalty to Sher Shah from Humayun and, as Akbar had observed to his father, these had been particularly unctuous in their present praise and professions of loyalty. Humayun’s army when it crossed the Indus had already nearly doubled in size to twenty thousand since leaving Kabul. Now it numbered nearly thirty-five thousand men with more recruits arriving every day.

  ‘Father, the fortress gates are closed. There are armed men on the walls and I see the smoke from cooking fires. Do we need to take the fortress or can we bypass it?’ asked Akbar.

  ‘It’s one of the keys to the control of northern Hindustan. We cannot leave it in the hands of an enemy who might sally forth at any time to attack our rear, so take it we must. However, the defenders are rumoured to be only few in number. They have no prospect of any relieving force and will not relish dying in a hopeless cause. I intend to see what an initial show of strength will do. Bairam Khan, have our cannon deployed in front of the fortress just out of musket range but where they can do some damage to the lower walls and the main gateway. Have our horsemen encircle the outcrop and have our musketeers and archers form up behind the cannon so that the defenders may see their number.’

  Within two hours, teams of straining oxen had pulled the Moghul cannon into place and the encirclement of Rohtas had been completed by Humayun’s horsemen, their green pennants fluttering in the spring breeze. During this time, although there had been much movement on the walls, the defenders made no attempt to make a sortie to disrupt their besiegers. When he saw everything was in place Humayun commanded Bairam Khan, ‘Order the cannon to fire at the gates. Once there is enough smoke billowing around, have some of our musketeers advance under its cover to within range and attempt to pick off any who show themselves above those crenellated battlements. In the meantime have our scribes write messages offering the defenders safe passage if they leave within an hour. After we’ve shown them a little of what we’re capable of, we’ll have our best archers fire the surrender offers into the city.’

  Almost immediately a loud boom echoed across the plains as the gunners pressed their lighted tapers to the firing holes of the bronze cannon. Some of the first shots were too low, crashing into the lower slopes of the outcrop and sending showers of earth and shards of rock into the air rather than damaging the walls and gates. Sweating and stripped to the waist as the day began to warm, the gunners rushed to change the cannons’ elevation by packing stones beneath the wheels or manhandling smaller weapons up mounds of earth. As they did so, a few musket shots rang from the towering battlements but the range was, as Humayun had planned, too great for them.

  However, some of the arrows the defenders fired from bows pointed high into the air to increase their range did reach the cannon. As they dropped from the cloudless sky, most thudded harmlessly into the ground but several oxen were hit, blood staining their dun-coloured coats, and Humayun saw one of his gunners being helped away, two black-shafted arrows stuck into his back where he had been hit while straining to push a cannon into place. Soon, the cannon were firing again and regularly hitting the stone walls flanking the gate. A pall of white smoke hung over the cannon like the early morning mist that formed in the valleys near Kabul.

  Humayun continued to watch as a band of his musketeers ran forward into the smoke, their weapons and firing tripods at the ready. They were followed by some of his archers with their double bows in their hands and full quivers on their backs. A minute or two later, a body fell, arms flailing, from the battlements to crash on to the rocks below. It was followed by another clawing at the air, this time with an arrow clearly visible protruding from its neck. No more puffs of smoke came from the muskets of the defenders on the walls and the number of arrows dwindled while the gates of Rohtas remained firmly shut.

  ‘The defenders clearly have little stomach for the fight, as we suspected. Have those archers with the message offering surrender terms attached to their arrows advance and fire them into the city,’ Humayun commanded. Within a few minutes he saw the arrows fly into the air, most of them overtopping the walls and landing within the fort.

  Scarcely two hours later, with Akbar at his side, Humayun rode through the tall, iron-studded gates of Rohtas and into the silent, deserted courtyard of the fortress, which was strewn with abandoned weapons and items of heavy equipment. Having seen the strength of Humayun’s army, the defenders had immediately appreciated the generosity of the surrender offer. Within a few minutes the great thick wooden gates had creaked open and the garrison had begun to stream through them, some on foot and some on horseback, carrying what valuables they could and all heading south, leaving Humayun master of this gateway to Hindustan.

  Humayun ordered some of the officers of his bodyguard to check that all the garrison had indeed departed and that none lurked in ambush. Receiving their swift confirmation, Humayun walked towards the open doors of the fortress’s great hall. As he did so, he glanced to his right where he saw that charcoal fires were still glowing beneath some clay tandoor ovens. Looking inside one, he found several loaves of warm, unleavened bread. He took one, bit a small portion from it and then handed it to Akbar.

  ‘Enjoy it. It tastes of victory.’

  Chapter 25

  Shock and Awe

  ‘Humayun Padishah! Long live Emperor Humayun!’The cries of the citizens of Lahore rang out all around as, one warm late February day in 1555, Humayun and Akbar made their triumphal entry into the city in a gilded howdah atop a tall elephant, whose long saddle cloth embroidered with golden thread and set with pearls swept the dust of the city’s wide streets.At the head of the procession was a squadron of Humayun’s best cavalry, all riding on black horses and all wearing turbans of gold-coloured cloth. The afternoon sun glinted on the steel points of the long lances they held vertically as they rode. Behind them, just in front of Humayun, six mounted trumpeters and six drummers with small kettledrums on either side of their saddlebows played with skill and vigour. Their music, together with the roar of the crowd, made it difficult for Humayun to hear Akbar’s words.

  ‘Father, ever since we left Kabul we have fought only skirmishes. All the major fortresses like Rohtas have surrendered at our approach and
now this great city of Lahore has too. How much further can we go into Hindustan without a real battle?’

  ‘Not far, I think. We’ll soon be entering what were the heartlands of Sher Shah’s and Islam Shah’s dominions. The three contenders for their throne will have heard of our advance and will know that we – the rightful rulers of Hindustan – are a greater threat than any of their fellow pretenders. One or all of them will turn aside from their squabbles to attack us.’

  ‘D’you think they will unite against us?’

  ‘Possibly, but the amount of death and destruction they have inflicted on each other makes that unlikely. However, each will be a formidable opponent in his own right.’

  ‘How long will we stay in Lahore?’

  ‘Only long enough to have the chief mullah proclaim me emperor once more by reading the khutba – the sermon – in my name at the Friday service in the mosque. Look, you can see its two tall minarets over there through the palm trees. We need to keep up the impetus of our advance. Too often I’ve delayed and let my opponents seize the initiative.’

  Two weeks later, as, shrouded in early morning mist, his troops were lighting their cooking fires to prepare their early meal, Humayun sat with his military council around him in his scarlet tent at the centre of his camp. Since leaving Lahore eight days earlier, he and his army had advanced ninety miles southeast, ever deeper into Hindustan across the featureless, red plains.

  ‘You are certain, Ahmed Khan, that the forces of Adil Shah are heading east across our line of march?’

  ‘Yes. Five days ago they had the worst of another encounter with the army of their rival Sekunder Shah and now they are hastening towards their stronghold in the fortress of Sundarnagar to regather their strength.’

  ‘How far away are they?’

  ‘Perhaps eight miles ahead of us, Majesty.’

  ‘How many of them are there?’

  ‘Ten thousand or so, nearly all mounted. They have abandoned most of their cannon and heavy equipment.’

  ‘Do they have pickets and outriders posted?’

  ‘Only a very few, Majesty; they are in too much disorder. They paused merely for a few hours overnight to snatch some sleep and were in the saddle again before dawn. Their minds seem concentrated only on reaching Sundarnagar as speedily as possible.’

  ‘Then let us attack immediately, taking advantage of the cover of the mist while it lasts. Tell the men to douse their cooking fires. There is no time to eat. We will take mounted cavalry and archers. Also, order some of the cavalrymen to take musketeers up behind them on their horses.You, Bairam Khan, will remain with Akbar in charge of the camp. Ensure you establish good defences and post pickets. I expect to win but the camp must be strongly protected in case Adil Shah evades us or for any reason secures a temporary advantage.’

  Two hours later, the mist had entirely evaporated. Humayun – who had ridden a mile or so ahead of his advancing main force with Ahmed Khan and a party of his scouts – looked over the low mud wall of a small village inhabited by a few poor farmers and their goats and chickens. Shielding his eyes with his hands against the sun’s glare, he saw about three-quarters of a mile away a large cloud of dust billowing as it crossed from right to left in front of him. Within the dust cloud, Humayun could just distinguish the shapes of riders and a few small baggage wagons pulled by mules or oxen. Two large banners fluttered at the head of the column. At this distance and through the dust, Humayun found it difficult to make out their colour, let alone any device on them, but it could only be Adil Shah’s forces.They had no scouts posted and appeared as yet oblivious of any danger.

  ‘Send orders back to Nadim Khwaja to take his division of cavalry and attack the rear. Tell Zahid Beg to bring his men here and I will lead them in an attack on the vanguard. Additionally, let those horsemen who have musketeers with them ride straightaway to within a hundred yards of the enemy line of march and there let the musketeers add to our opponents’ discomfort.’

  Soon, Humayun’s musketeers were dismounting to place their long muskets on their firing tripods and Humayun and his troops were almost on Adil Shah’s vanguard. At the last moment their opponents had suddenly become aware of them and were turning to face them, unsheathing their weapons as they did so. Officers were shouting orders to close ranks and to prepare to receive the attacks. Almost immediately, Humayun’s musketeers fired their first volley, which knocked some of Adil Shah’s men from their saddles and wounded and panicked some of their horses.

  Moments later, Humayun at the head of his cavalry thudded into their vanguard. His first action was to cut down one of the two banner holders with a sword swipe to the head. As the man fell backwards, he dropped his great banner, which Humayun could now see was orange with a gold sun on it. The long cloth twisted around the legs of Humayun’s black horse and it stumbled. Humayun, caught off balance as he leaned from the saddle to aim a sword stroke at the second banner carrier, fell. As he landed on the hard ground, his sword was knocked from his grasp.

  Another of Adil Shah’s men, a stocky officer wearing a domed helmet with an orange plume, reacted more swiftly than Humayun’s bodyguard. He kicked his chestnut horse towards Humayun and attempted to impale him on his long lance. Humayun rolled quickly away, throwing off his gauntlet as he did so and trying to extract his dagger from its jewelled scabbard hanging at his waist. After what seemed an age, he tugged it free and threw the foot-long weapon with all his force at the throat of the horse of his opponent, who was attempting to ride him down once more. The point of the dagger hit its mark and the horse, bleeding profusely, staggered and collapsed, throwing its rider, who hit the earth with a thump.

  Humayun was by now on his feet and rushed over to the winded officer, who had lost his helmet in the fall. Humayun grabbed him round his thick neck as he too attempted to stand. For some seconds they fought as the officer tried to extract himself from Humayun’s headlock. Then he bit hard into the bare flesh of Humayun’s wrist and hand, drawing blood. Humayun relaxed his grip slightly and the officer wrenched his head free.

  Half smiling through teeth flecked with Humayun’s blood, he immediately kicked out at Humayun’s groin. But Humayun leaped back and his opponent missed, throwing himself off balance. Humayun swept the man’s trailing leg from beneath him and, as he fell, leaped upon him, landing with his knees on his opponent’s chest. The officer, although winded again, in turn succeeded in kneeing Humayun in the back and dislodging him.They rolled over and over in the dust together until Humayun used his superior strength and agility to get both his hands firmly round his opponent’s neck. Deliberately he pressed his thumbs into the man’s windpipe as hard as he could and twisted his neck sharply. There was a loud crack and slowly the officer’s face suffused with purple and his bulging eyes grew unfocused as he ceased to struggle.Throwing the limp body aside, Humayun scrambled to his feet and retrieved his sword. Grimly he realised that without the training of his wrestling bouts with Bayzid Khan he might not have prevailed. It would have been very difficult in the press of the fight for his bodyguard to protect him once he was unhorsed.

  These same bodyguards were by now gathering round and Humayun saw that many of Adil Shah’s men were already fleeing. Others were surrendering. It was still less than an hour since he had first seen Adil Shah’s army, phantoms in the dust, from the shelter of the farmers’ village. Now they were in complete confusion and disarray, as were Adil Shah’s chances of making good his claim to the throne of Hindustan.

  ‘Pursue our enemies. Capture as many animals and as much equipment as you can. We will need them for the harder fights that surely lie ahead. If you capture Adil Shah show him no mercy, as he showed none to his young nephew.’

  Three hours after the battle, some of the troops Humayun had sent in pursuit of his defeated enemy returned. Humayun saw that one of them was leading a horse with a body slung across its back, the arms and legs tied together beneath the animal’s belly. The rider leading the group dismounted and bowed low be
fore Humayun. ‘It’s Adil Shah, Majesty. Members of his bodyguard whom we overtook only two or three miles from here surrendered the body to us. They told us that he had died a short time before from a chest wound inflicted by a musket ball at the beginning of the battle.’

  Humayun walked over to the corpse and, pulling the head back, looked into his opponent’s face. Beneath the caked blood and dirt, Adil Shah looked ordinary. Humayun could see no outward trace of the wicked depth of his ambition which had led him to slaughter his sister’s son. Letting Adil Shah’s head drop, he suppressed the temptation welling within him to show his contempt for his enemy by leaving his corpse unburied for the birds and pariah dogs to feed on. Instead, he turned away with a curt instruction, ‘Inter him in an unmarked grave.’

  That night, in the quiet of his tent, Humayun offered a silent prayer of thanks. He had eliminated one of the three other major contenders for the throne of Hindustan. But he knew he must not relax. He must retain the initiative and the impetus of his victories, pushing himself and his army to the utmost. Otherwise, his chance to recover his throne and to transform himself from failure to victor might be lost and might never arise again.

  The next morning Ahmed Khan’s scouts brought news of a further opportunity. Travellers coming up the road from the south had told them that a small army led by two of Tartar Khan’s generals was about five days’ ride away, heading north in their direction. Its apparent aim was to confront Adil Shah of whose defeat they were as yet ignorant. Realising that he had a great chance to inflict a serious blow on the second of the contenders for the throne of Hindustan and in all probability remove him too from contention, Humayun immediately ordered his men to move south to attack Tartar Khan’s army.

  A week later, Humayun surveyed another battlefield. Riding hard, his troops had come up with their enemy earlier that day and had found that their opponents were travelling in two distinct divisions separated by at least a mile. Neither group numbered more than four thousand men. Humayun had straightaway ordered an attack on the leading division, which had quickly broken under the impact and scattered across the plain. Rather than riding to the aid of their stricken comrades, the second division had retreated and occupied a defensive position on a nearby small hill, which Humayun’s troops had swiftly encircled.