LACHMI BAI
Chapter I
_BEFORE THE STORM_
It was a day of angry, torrid heat. The June sun of Central Indiablazed fiercely upon an uneven plain, upon a river winding to thenorthward, a lake bordered by trees, and upon the walled city of Jhansiwith its rock fortress rising precipitously to guard the western front.Beneath the south wall, amid groves of acacia, whose parched anddust-coated limbs seemed to implore a speedy descent of the rains thendue, were discernible the white domes of temples and tombs. A littlefurther away, surrounded by gardens, were situated the bungalows of theForeign residents, the cantonments of their troops, and the Star Fortcontaining their treasure and arms.
The hour of noon approached. Over all a reposeful silence reigned.Everyone had sought the shelter of cool halls and darkened chambers.In the fort and cantonments the soldiers had been dismissed from theirduties; on the roads leading to the city there was little traffic;within the gates the bazaars were deserted; not a dog even venturedupon the blistering stones of the palace courtyard. Only in the shadowof a pillar near the main entrance to that turreted structure, a blindbeggar sat, every now and then raising his monotonous cry for pity andalms.
Externally, an indefinite era of peace seemed to have settled uponJhansi. Except for the periodical anxiety concerning the rains, thereappeared to be no disquieting feature disturbing its outward calm. Yetfor months past in that year of 1857 a token,[1] a warning of somegreat impending occurrence had gone forth through the land; from whenceproceeding few men knew, to what purpose the masses did not comprehend,though they watched. With indifference as to what it might portend, theForeigners had also observed the sign.
But in one place in Jhansi that day there was no rest at the noontidehour. It was in the palace of the disinherited Rani, or Princess ofthe state. There, an atmosphere of suspense, an air laden with thatmysterious foreboding that some mighty event was about to take place,permeated every apartment, the halls, courts, and corridors. The verywalls seemed to live with sinister animation. Men, many of them witharms displayed openly, moved stealthily back and forth from room toroom, gathering in groups to discuss some weighty topic with hushedaccents. Even the women servants appeared to have caught the infectionof the hour, pausing to glean snatches of the men's conversation, andpassing on with significant looks.
In a small enclosed garden of the palace, where palms, bright-leavedcrotons, and fragrant blossoms, afforded a refreshing retreat from theatmospherical furnace without, a man and woman paced side by side inearnest discourse. The man was tall, bronze-visaged, and of martialbearing; the woman slender in form, graceful in carriage, and beautifulin so far as one might gather from features partly concealed by a foldof her embroidered _chuddah_. The former was a Mohammedan noble, AhmadKhan; the latter, Lachmi Bai, the disinherited Rani of Jhansi.
At a turn in their walk the Princess turned to confront her companion.
"You say, my Lord," she spoke quickly, "that Bahadur Shah once morereigns supreme in Delhi; that the troops at Aligurth have marched outto join his standard; that Bareli has fallen into the hands of KhanBahadur Khan; and yet there is no news from Bithur. When, in Heaven'sname, is Dundhu Panth, the Peshwa, going to send us the signal to risein Jhansi? For a month past my people have impatiently strained on theleash, awaiting my word to rush forth and drive the Foreigners from theState. I cannot--nay I cannot hold them in hand much longer. God knows,they have their own wrongs as well as mine to redress."
Ahmad raised a hand restrainingly.
"Patience! Patience! my Lady Rani," he exclaimed. "In a little, to-day,to-morrow, surely the Peshwa's messenger will arrive. Restraint will befor the best in the end. The arm of your people will strike all theharder; their onset will be the more irresistible."
"Aye, truly," she replied, "but you forget, O Ahmad, that theForeigners will not sleep forever. The news from Delhi must havereached their ears. A single traitor might cause them to awake,defeating all our plans. I fear that the blow upon which we have stakedso much, may yet fall without cleaving to the heart."
A Native officer in Foreign uniform entered the garden. He halted andsaluted.
The Rani and her companion turned quickly toward him with expressionsof sudden alarm.
The officer advanced to deliver a message.
"Your Highness," he began, addressing the Rani. "The Commissioner andCaptain Sahibs will shortly arrive at the palace to seek an audience. Ihave been sent forward to acquaint you of their visit."
The Rani stepped close to the officer and scrutinized his features.Then she grasped him tightly by the sleeve of his jacket.
"Thou art the Jamadar Golab Das"? she interrogated.
"As thou sayest, noble Rani."
"Tell me, O Golab," she besought anxiously. "Have they heard? Have theeyes of the Foreigners been opened? Hath a traitor whispered in theirears"?
"They sleep on, all thy people are faithful," the officer returnedsignificantly.
A sigh of relief escaped the Rani's lips.
"It is well," she exclaimed. "Then I will see the Foreign Sahibs. Go,carry them that message."
The officer again saluted and left her presence.
As if a sudden inspiration had gained possession of the Rani's mind,she turned to Ahmad and spoke authoritatively.
"It is my will to see the Foreign Sahibs alone in the _Darbar_ hall."
He made a gesture as if about to protest against her purpose.
"Nay," she continued, "Nay, good Ahmad. It is the best plan. If theysee me unattended they will be less suspicious. Go, order everyoneto hide from view. Let not a face be seen or a voice heard. Letthese walls be as silent as a tomb--aye even as the tomb that theseForeigners have built about my life, depriving me of what was justlymine. The palace sleeps, they will say. This woman can do no harm."
She gracefully recognized the Mohammedan noble's bow, signifying hiscompliance to her order, and moved quickly to a door leading to herprivate apartments.
At the southern gate of the city, the two Foreign Sahibs, attended by aNative orderly, were met by Golab Das, bearing the Rani's reply.
"Well Jamadar," said the military officer, "What does the Rani say? Didyou see her personally"?
"I saw the Princess, your Excellency," returned the Jamadar. "She bademe say that she waits to learn the pleasure of your will."
"Tell me, Jamadar," continued the officer. "Was there any sign ofuneasiness about the palace? People gathering, or additions being madeto the Rani's bodyguard"?
"My eyes beheld no such gathering of people," returned the Jamadarlaconically. "The Rani's servants are resting from the heat."
The officer ordered his subordinate to return to the cantonments.As they moved forward he turned a look of satisfaction toward hiscompanion.
"Well Hawksley," said he. "I doubt after all if we shall have the funyet of cutting our way through a mass of fanatics."
The Commissioner's face maintained a thoughtful expression.
"I did not anticipate that we would," he returned.
"Yes, but you are as full of gloomy forebodings as any old fortuneteller," asserted the other.
"Oh! not at all," exclaimed the Commissioner, "only I think thesituation more serious than the rest of us are inclined to regard it."
"What in Jhansi"?
"Yes, in Jhansi. Now look here, Vane," continued the Commissionergravely. "Let us see how we stand. There is no doubt something horriblehas taken place in Delhi."
"Rumors only," interposed the other, "and even then an isolated case.That old rascal, Bahadur Shah, will soon be brought to his senses, andpunished drop for drop of our blood."
"I hope so," remarked the Commissioner. "But this morning I heard thatthe troops at Bareli had revolted and seized the place."
"A band of marauders," added the soldier lightly. "They will be hangedwhen caught, every one of them. For my part, I fail to perceive howthese scattered out-breaks are likely to affect us in Jhansi."
"Yes, indirectly they ma
y," the Commissioner persisted. "Now look here,Vane. Think a moment seriously, if you can do such a thing. Here we area paltry hundred and fifty odd Europeans in the heart of India, farremoved from the least chance of assistance."
"We shall not need any," remarked the soldier emphatically. "If thepeople hereabout should create any disturbance, my men will soon dealwith them. They have sworn to a unit that they will stand by their saltoath of allegiance. I have implicit confidence in them."
"Granted! Granted that what you assert may be true," rejoined theCommissioner, "but to my mind the element of danger here lies inanother direction."
"Where pray"? demanded the other dubiously.
They had passed the gate and were traversing the almost desertedbazaars.
"Where pray"? he asked again, glancing along a row of empty stalls. "Iconfess, I fail to note any sign of it."
"Perhaps not," rejoined the Commissioner, "but it is in evidencenevertheless. I refer to the Rani."
"What, to that girl, the Rani," the officer exclaimed.
"Nonsense! What mischief can she do. Her talons have been well paredfor any evil that she might design."
"My dear Vane," said the Commissioner sagely. "Never underestimate thepower and resources of a woman, if she nourishes a grievance."
"A grievance"?
"Yes, frankly, though unofficially, I consider that she has agrievance--even a just one against us. Now what is her position? First,we took from her the estate of her affianced husband, that by her lawshe was clearly entitled to hold."
"But transferred, I thought, according to the provisions of a treatymade with the late Raja."
"True, but still she was none the less a heavy loser by it. Well then,by way of recompense for this, what did we do? We gave her a paltry$30,000 a year."
"A devilish good allowance, I call it," flippantly interposed Vane. "Ionly wish I had $30,000 a year, and the Rani or the deuce might do whatthey pleased with Jhansi. Dear old Pall Mall would soon see me on thedouble."
The Commissioner refused to notice his companion's light humor.
"Out of that allowance," he proceeded, "small enough in all consciencefor one in her position, we insisted on deducting a sinking fund to paythe late Raja's debts."
Vane struck his boot a smart rap with the end of his whip.
"Oh, hang it!" he exclaimed. "That was bad. It's shocking enough to beobliged to meet one's own i.o.u.'s; but to settle up for another fellowis monstrous. My sympathy there is with the Rani, though it wasn't ourfault, you know."
"Yes, I thought that would appeal to you," remarked the Commissionerdryly, "but if I am not mistaken that matter of killing cows, in spiteof her protests, has enraged her more than the loss of either theJhansi throne or the revenue. That, was an unnecessary insult to herreligious sensibilities. Now what I maintain is this, if she has beenwaiting for a favorable opportunity to strike a blow for what she mayregard as her lost position and injured feelings, the present is asgood a one as she is likely to be afforded. Her influence with thepeople is, I am convinced, a quantity worth taking into account."
Vane yawned with the heat and the little interest he felt in both thesubject and the visit. He was satisfied that the Commissioner's fearswere groundless, that there was not the slightest danger of an outbreakin Jhansi, and only with difficulty had he been persuaded to accompanyhis colleague to the Rani's palace.
"In any case, suppose there is something in your idea," he asked, "whatcan she do"?
"That is exactly what we are going to try and discover," returned theCommissioner firmly.
They had arrived before the main entrance to the palace. Theydismounted and handed the reins of their horses to the native orderly.
Vane glanced contemptuously at an obsequious aged servant who had comeforth to receive them, and round upon the drowsy appearance of thebuildings.
"Conspiracy! Uprising of the people! Nonsense"! he ejaculated."Hawksley's imagination has gone wandering. I'd wager six months' paythe girl is trembling at the bare idea of our visit."
As the request for an audience had been made upon the spur of themoment, the Commissioner regarded it as a favorable sign that the Raniconsented to receive them without delay.
They were ushered through an inner courtyard surrounded by cloisters,in the shade of which a few Natives awoke to salute the Foreign Sahibsas they passed. Thence through dark halls and ante-chambers, in whichthe echo of their footsteps alone broke the profound silence that haddescended on the palace. At last they crossed the threshold of the_Darbar_ hall.
At the further end of the noble chamber, where for centuries it hadbeen the custom of the Princes of Jhansi to dispense justice, she,from whom justice had been withheld, stood to receive her visitors.In the sight of the two officers as they gazed down a nave of pillarssupporting the ornately decorated roof, she appeared as the statue ofsome divinity in the far perspective of an ancient temple--a youthful,white robed, graceful figure, brought into strong relief by a darkbackground of gold embroidered arras.
As if to emphasize the powerless condition to which she had beenreduced, the Rani was attended by a single waiting woman, who remainedthroughout the interview a few paces in her rear, motionless andapparently unobservant.
The officers advanced to within a few paces of her position and salutedher respectfully.
With a slight inclination of her head, she acknowledged their greetingand waited to learn the nature of their errand.
The Commissioner had anticipated that the Rani would have hastilysurrounded herself with numerous retainers to impress him with asemblance of her power. He realized that a hundred splendidly attiredcourtiers could not have added a shade of prestige to this girl, whostood alone.
It was not only the majestic pose, nor the beautiful contour of herface, crowned by a mass of dark hair, ornamented with a chaplet ofpearls, that quickly confirmed the Commissioner's previous impressionthat Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi, was far removed from the generallyaccepted type of her countrywomen. But there was a strength ofcharacter emphasized in every line of her distinctly Aryan features, aforce of will, a mystical power in every flash of her lustrous eyes,in every movement, in every word, however gently spoken, warning himat the outset that he had to deal with no shrinking, simple, _zanana_maiden.
He had come prepared to assume a firm, if necessary a dictatorialattitude; but now in her presence he found himself slowly paving theway by conventional compliments.
Her silence at last compelled him to come to the point.
"Your Highness," he began, "will doubtless have heard of thedisturbances that have broken out in several districts of the NorthwestProvinces."
"Some reports have reached my ears," she replied, with apparentindifference, "but I give to them little credence."
"I am afraid," resumed the Commissioner gravely, "that there is onlytoo much reason to believe their authenticity. I have, therefore,sought this audience with your Highness to request that in the eventof any threatened outbreak in Jhansi, you will use your influence topreserve peace. I need not add that by so doing, by demonstrating atsuch a crisis that your sympathy is with the British Government, youwill be rendering a service to the latter that I, personally, willguarantee shall not be overlooked."
The representative of the power that had deprived her of herpossessions stood before her as a supplicant for her good will.
A nature less subtle, less under such admirable control, might at themoment have been over tempted to cast prudence to the winds, and in anoutburst of long gathering passion jeopardize the complete success ofher plans by summoning her retainers to seize prematurely the personsof the British officers. But trained in adversity, that best of schoolsto curb her real feelings, by not a sign did she betray, that formonths past she had been preparing for the hour when the fate of Jhansishould rest in the palm of her hand; nor the infallible knowledgeshe possessed, that every man in the city, aye even every woman andchild, together with the whole body of native troops within the Britishcantonments,
awaited her signal to rise in revolt.
In a voice, in which only the faintest note of irony was mingled withsurprise, she answered quietly.
"Surely the Foreign Sahib sets too great store upon my ability toassist him. What have I," she continued, raising the tone slightly,and extending a hand so that the gold bangles on her wrist jingledmusically. "What influence hath Lachmi Bai with the people to controltheir actions? If they should rebel, has not the Sahib soldiers andguns to enforce his will; I, but a few poor servants to protect myperson. No," she concluded, letting her hand fall again to her side,"the Sahib knows well I have no power, no authority in Jhansi."
The Commissioner twirled his moustache musingly. He knew that withoutdoubt she had stated the literal truth; but he was now more firmlyconvinced than ever, that behind the dark eyes which so unflinchinglyreturned his gaze, there lay a power for good or evil in a possibleemergency, that it would be suicidal to ignore.
Gravely he resumed the subject.
"It would be a poor compliment," he said, "to the esteem in which it iswell known your Highness is held by the people, to place your influenceat so low a value. Should an uprising take place in Jhansi, you coulddo much to preserve law and order."
For a few moments neither spoke. Each regarded the other as ifendeavoring to find a vulnerable point in the contest of diplomacy,when the Rani skilfully turned the subject to her own advantage.She was anxious to discover if any suspicion of her plans had beenengendered in the minds of the Foreigners, and how far they dependedfor their safety upon the fidelity of their native troops, already wonover to her cause. She therefore replied by another question.
"But have you any reason to think that the peace will be broken inJhansi"?
"At present, I have not," the Commissioner replied, after a shortperiod of reflection.
"And even in that event you can surely rely upon the loyalty of yournative troops"? she suggested with apparent absence of motive.
"Yes, I believe so," he affirmed decisively. "Certainly they willremain true to their salt."
"Then why come to me," she asked, "to seek assistance for which you arelikely to have so little need"?
The Commissioner realized that argumentatively, his position was nolonger tenable. So he determined to revert to his original purpose andmake a firm demand upon the evasive young Princess.
"Nevertheless," he replied sternly. "It is my duty to inform you, thatthe British Government will hold you responsible for any outbreak amongthe people."
The Rani raised her eyebrows slightly, as she retorted in a rising toneof protest.
"Surely the Commissioner Sahib does not remember the position in whichhis Government has placed me. He forgets that it not only deprivedme of my inheritance of the throne of Jhansi, but of my affiancedhusband's personal estates, and even compelled me out of the pittanceof an allowance provided for my support to pay his debts. Thus, oftenhave the poor in vain cried to me to alleviate their distress, dailyare Brahmans turned from my gates unfed. I cannot help them. Forthe reason that you have deprived me of the means wherewith even toinfluence the actions of a beggar, I cannot assist you. I do not see,nay, I do not understand how I can be held responsible for the publicpeace. As well might you extract the teeth of a watch dog and expectit to guard your treasure safely. Does your Government also hold meresponsible for the loyalty of your troops"? she concluded, with a noteof scorn.
"No," he returned with emphasis, "but it will undoubtedly look to yourHighness to act in the event of an outbreak, as I have suggested."
The ultimatum had been delivered.
The two officers bowed to the Rani and retraced their steps to the endof the hall. On the threshold Vane paused for a moment. He glanced overhis shoulder and met the gaze of the Rani still fixed upon them. Withher hands folded she had remained in the same position; but there wasan unmistakable expression of scornful triumph on her face, carryingswift conviction to his mind, that their mission had failed, that thismere girl had routed their arguments and baffled their diplomacy.
As they passed down the steps, he linked his arm in that of hiscompanion. He spoke in an undertone, with no vestige of his flippanthumor remaining.
"I say, Hawksley. I say, old fellow. D'you know, I think the Rani is adevilish clever girl. We didn't get much out of her, did we"?
The Commissioner eyed his companion seriously.
"Yes," he acquiesced. "For my part, Vane, I believe it would have beenbetter for all of us if we had arrived at that conclusion before."
They had scarcely disappeared from the hall, when white figures seemedto emerge from the very walls.
The Rani waved them back with a warning gesture.
"Go," she enjoined her attendant. "Go, Rati, and see if the Foreignershave left the court."
In a few minutes the girl returned with the information that theForeign Sahibs had mounted their horses.
The Rani raised her arms above her head and cried aloud as she gavefull vent to her suppressed emotion.
"Fools! Fools all! Of what do they think I am made. Am I clay to bemoulded into any form, a pitcher with which to draw water for them whenthirsty? Ah! By the great God of Gods, I swear that before another sunhas set, they shall find that the will, if not the form of Lachmi Baiis fashioned out of steel."
Quickly she was surrounded by an eager throng, clamoring for news ofthe audience.
"What said the Foreign Sahibs, O Rani"? they besought her. "Tell us, OQueen, what said they"?
She waved them from her gently.
"It is enough," she cried, "that still hearing no sound but the call toplunder, they are deaf to the mighty whisper passed down from palace tohovel, and on from city to jungle, that the hour for India is at hand."
Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi: The Jeanne D'Arc of India Page 2
