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

by Michael White

  Chapter XV

  _IN THE COURSE OF EVENTS_

  Many days had passed beneath the Rani's feet. Almost hourly the loomof peril rose threateningly upon her position. From every source, withunrelenting persistence, the worst news came to shatter the hopes ofthose who had espoused the Native cause in Jhansi.

  First the report of the recapture and looting of Delhi was confirmed;to which was added the intelligence that the aged Emperor was aprisoner in the enemy's hands, and that his sons had been slaughtered.Then that Lucknow was relieved, and the army of the Peshwa putto flight. Reports of other reverses succeeded one another withdisheartening rapidity.

  The hour of the Foreigners' vengeance had come. Terror was theweapon they now wielded to crush the rebellion. It was not withoutsatisfactory result in the interest of their dominion in India. Theundisciplined mobs led by generals suspicious of each other's actionsmelted away before the impetuous onslaughts of the white men. ManyNative leaders sought to make peace while the hour of grace lasted.Those still wavering quickly made up their minds that they had everloved the Foreigner as a parent.

  But for those taken in open revolt it was soon made plain that therewas to be no mercy. They were blown from the mouths of cannon toend their lives in this world, and, according to the belief of thesentenced, to exterminate their existence in the next. The demand rosethat as a lasting memorial of the triumph of the Christian faith aswell as of the Christian sword over both Hindu and Mohammedan, templesshould be converted into churches, and that on every tile of the GreatMosque at Delhi a martyr's name should be engraved.

  In another part of the world the names of Christian martyrs may beseen cut into the walls of subterranean passages bearing witness toa triumph of their faith brought about by other means. But it wasthe Nineteenth and not the Third Century. It was Cawnpur and not theColiseum to be avenged.

  Reports of these things, also, came to the Rani's ears.

  "See," she cried, "how faithfully do these Foreigners observe thecommandments of their gentle Prophet. Were a Mohammedan conquerorraging through the land, his injunction to plunder and spare none couldnot be more swiftly obeyed."

  With the news of each fresh disaster, the number of dismayed facesturned toward the Rani increased proportionately; but upon hercountenance there was no reflection of the weakening sentiment. Herspirit rose as that of an eagle threatened with the destruction of itsyoung. She realized that time was bringing for her, a supreme test offorethought and endurance, as well as of courage.

  As she had surprised all with the wisdom displayed in the conduct ofher civil government--a curious reproach to those who had regarded heras incapable to occupy a throne--her military judgment was marked byintuitive sagacity of the highest merit.

  On the ramparts of the rock fortress new guns were mounted commandingthe whole plain; the massive walls surrounding the city on its threeother sides were repaired; the mamelon, or mound, at the south-eastcorner, together with several flanking bastions, armed, so that theybristled with guns. With untiring perseverance she had collected andtrained to a state of efficiency a defending force of eleven thousandmen, every one of whom had sworn to defend her person and honor to thelast extremity.

  Thus her outward life displayed no sign of the unhealed wound in herheart. Of Prasad, she had received no intelligence directly. Rumor hadupon occasion reported his presence with the standard of the Nativegeneral, Tantia Topi, so far victorious and vanquished in turn. AhmadKhan still remained as the most obedient of her lieutenants.

  From the pavement of the temple he had risen to go forth with a newfeeling regarding her. The element of his passion still remained, butthe absence of his rival cast the stimulant of jealousy into abeyance,and a belief that in some way her person was sacred, prevented anypresent contemplation of a renewal of his suit to the point of overtaction. Once only had he ventured with humility to touch upon hisunrequited sentiment. She quickly divined the purpose of his mind, andinterposed before a declaration.

  "Greatly do I appreciate thy faithful service, O Ahmad," she said,"and in the strife I fear is quickly approaching, there is no one ofwhose aid I would less willingly be deprived; but of thy longing for mydeeper affection thou must not speak again. Long since have I given mylove to the welfare of my people, to naught else."

  A sigh lightly escaped her lips. For a moment her gaze passed from theimmediate scene. Perhaps it sought the figure of a young noble fightingbravely on some far off battlefield.

  "Fair Lady," Ahmad petitioned. "Canst thou not give me but a grain ofhope"?

  "Hope, Ahmad," she replied evasively, "of one kind and another we mayeach cherish. It is well, for we know not what lies before us on themorrow. Alas! we are as butterflies dancing in the sunlight. A cloudsweeps across the Heavens, and behold, we and our hopes have vanished."

  With the worthy secretary, Bipin Dat, unhappy even in the happinessof the banishment of his fancied enemy, and relief from the terrorsheld over him by his late counselor, Mohurran Goshi; he was not slowto discover another astrologer, who was quite ready to lighten theweight of a well filled purse, in exchange for prognostications ofextraordinary good fortune. But the secretary's horoscope was, itseemed, ever temporarily clouded by ominous signs, that could bedispelled for a consideration. As with others of the populace, areal terror rose above the horizon in the threatened return of theForeigners. It served to recall to Bipin's mind the fact that a longperiod had elapsed since he had visited his family, dwelling in aprovince removed from the seat of war. It was a remarkable coincidencethat with the daily advent of evil tidings, this filial sentiment grewstronger within him. By day it interfered with his digestion; at nightit disturbed his rest. A final decision was brought about through theattempt of a creditor to recover an overdue account. Money that shouldhave repaid the services of his barber, had been diverted into therapacious purse of the new astrologer; and the barber was wrathful,even vindictive, in consequence. He took the usual course to enforcepayment by an endeavor to shame the unworthy secretary in public.

  Bipin sat in the shade of a pillar endeavoring to propitiate the barberwith compliments, while a blunt razor was unmercifully scraped backand forth over his head. The mirror he held, in which to admire hisfeatures during the progress of his toilet, reflected a wry countenance.

  "A handsome boy, that is of yours, most skilful Barber," he remarked;as the barber grasped his customer's nose in a tight pinch.

  "Ah, yes," returned the barber dryly. "As thou sayest, I would like himto enter the Rani's service but that all her attendants will shortly bekilled. _Ah, hae!_ Alas! The Foreigners now advancing will not let oneof them escape."

  He swept the razor significantly across Bipin's throat.

  Bipin started.

  "What is that you say"? he asked.

  "Be careful, good sir," enjoined the barber, "or I might damage an eardestined for the Foreigners to cut off, after the city has been carriedby assault."

  Bipin shivered both in body and spirit. He mentally cursed the fatethat seemed bent upon depriving him of his organs.

  "Thou art a chicken hearted rogue of a barber," he replied excitedly,in an endeavor to overcome the shock to his courage. "Dost know thather Highness numbers among her followers some of the bravest fightersin the land, who will drive away the Foreigners as deer before tigers.Though not born to the sword, if such danger comes, I, myself, willbear arms and fight upon the walls."

  The barber laughed tauntingly. His object was to incite the secretary'sanger to the point of an open squabble, so that he could then proclaimhis wrong and obtain payment through the adverse criticism that wouldfall on Bipin's head.

  "You fight, worthy Secretary," he sneered. "Why a jackal would laugh atyour valor. You would run at the first discharge of a gun, but that youare too fat, too corpulent."

  Bipin struggled out of the barber's clutches, burning with passion,half shaved, a delightful object of ridicule.

  "Too fat," he gasped, striking the barber with the palm of his hand."
Too fat, thou lean ghost. If the accursed Foreigners catch thee, beassured thy bones will rattle well from the bough of a tree."

  Instantly the hubbub the barber looked for rose. A dozen bystandersinterfered, barking dogs rushed from corners, a score of voicesclamored in the interest of they knew not what. Above it all, the wailof the barber proclaimed the secretary's remissness in his payment.

  Bipin soon perceived the disadvantage of his situation. He was in thewrong, that was made plain. Reluctantly he drew forth the required sumand begged the offended barber take his money.

  The offended barber at first swore by his God not to touch the smallestcoin, but at last yielded to persuasion. He even accepted an additionalpayment as a solace for the personal affront, declared Bipin was tohim as an uncle, and vowed that unless permitted to proceed with theshaving, the joy of his life would go out.

  Thus peace was restored, the dogs slunk back to their corners, thebystanders directed their attention to other matters, and Bipin againgave his head to the hands of the now obsequious barber. But his mindwas ill at ease.

  "The razor shaves to your liking, I trust, great sir," remarked thebarber, as he removed the roots as well as the stems of a tuft ofBipin's hair.

  Bipin groaned with the pain, but from oft repeated similar experiences,continued to submit patiently.

  "At least no worse than usual," he muttered in response. "But tell mewhat thou hast heard about the return of the Foreigners."

  "Oh, little of any consequence," replied the barber light-heartedly."They are on the road that will surely carry them off the face of theearth. The Rani's troops will rout them utterly. Thou wouldst make afine soldier, worthy Secretary," he added in accents of admiration. "Abrave figure on a horse."

  "Perhaps so," returned Bipin dubiously. "What you say may be true, butat present I am considering another matter of importance. When is itreported in the bazaars that these Foreigners are likely to arrive"?

  "Noble Secretary, that is not certain. Indeed, it is the generalopinion they will never arrive except as prisoners."

  The expression on Bipin's face did not reflect the barber's suddenoptimism. In his mind he beheld the much more secure retreat affordedby the abode of his family while the road was still open. At theconclusion of his toilet he sought the Rani's presence.

  A secret council of war had just been held. A messenger that morninghad brought news of the rout of the Native army at Mandanpur onlyeighty miles distant from Jhansi, leaving the whole intervening countryexposed, with the single exception of the fort of Chanderi. Therewas no longer any doubt of the swift approach of the enemy, the onlyquestion being whether to give battle at some advantageous point, ordefend the city until a relieving force could arrive under Tantia Topi.The question still awaited a final decision. The Rani herself was infavor of the former course, while her officers, with the exceptionof Ahmad Khan, strenuously urged the latter as more prudent. Anothercouncil was to meet later in the day upon the receipt of furtherexpected intelligence.

  Bipin _salaamed_ and proceeded to introduce his request for leave ofabsence to visit his family, by a complimentary preface on the peacefulcondition of all things under the shadow of the Rani's authority.

  "Peace it may be for the moment, good Bipin," she interposed, in hisword ramble over the whole State of Jhansi. "But assuredly to-morrowwill find us all with arms in our hands."

  Bipin affected astonishment. As he had been excluded from the councilof war the news of the near approach of the Foreigners had not reachedhis ears. Was it possible that some audacious raja contemplated arevolt? he asked. Undoubtedly he would soon be brought to terms, andthe Rani continue to reign undisturbed for evermore.

  The Rani shook her head seriously.

  "Thou wilt hear of it all quickly enough," she replied. "But in themeantime what is it thou desirest, for assuredly thou hast a petition"?

  Bipin then launched forth into the disturbed state of his conscience onaccount of the long period which had elapsed since he had beheld hisdear parents, his honored uncles, his worthy brothers, and all the hostof his other relatives.

  "Alas! noble Lady," he reflected contritely. "What will they thinkof their undutiful son. Most unfortunate would it be if they shouldconsider that in the exalted state in which it has pleased yourHighness to place me, I had forgotten their less fortunate condition.To explain that only the burden of my office has kept me from them,is the object of my seeking a few days absence from your IllustriousGreatness's side."

  The Rani smiled in spite of the anxiety in her mind.

  "That is surely a most estimable desire, O Bipin," she replied. "But Iwould suggest that instead of taking so toilsome a journey, thou dostmake thy regrets by letter, accompanied by a handsome present out ofthy savings. In that way, be assured, they will be well satisfied."

  Bipin's round face lengthened. The suggestion did not at all coincidewith his present inclination.

  "Noble Lady," he resumed gravely. "This would I gladly do, but thatthere are some family matters that can only be discussed with proprietyby word of mouth."

  "Then, good Bipin, thou must depart, I suppose," she replied, "thoughwe shall be the loser by thy absence. But thou must use great cautionon the journey," she added naively, "for the horsemen of the Foreignersmay have already swept to the north, and if they catch thee, as aservant of the Jhansi Rani, I fear thou wilt never behold the faces ofthy genial uncles."

  An expression of indecision broke over Bipin's countenance. In thatcase, he quickly reasoned, the walls of Jhansi would undoubtedly be asafer retreat than the open highway.

  "Then, perhaps, great Rani," he faltered, "I had better defer myvisit for a season. Not for a mountain of gold would I be absent fromthy side in the hour of danger. Upon my head would forever rest thereproach that I had turned my heels to the enemy."

  "Nay," she answered thoughtfully. "Thou mayest go in safety, for asthy road lies by the camp of Tantia Topi, thou canst be of service bybearing a message to him from me. Thus far, an escort shall accompanythee. But thou must be ready to start immediately."

  Bipin's face brightened visibly.

  "I am ready even now, noble Lady," he replied, "and doubt not,will return with all speed in time to assist in the defeat of theForeigners, should they venture to direct their steps toward Jhansi."

  "Then take thy writing materials and set down as I dictate," shecommanded.

  Bipin produced a pen, a bottle of ink, and a pad; when the Ranidelivered an urgent message to the Maratha general, setting forth theimpending danger, and begging him to come speedily to her assistance.

  Within an hour Bipin's whole attention was directed toward a heroicendeavor to keep his seat in the saddle of a spirited horse, while thetroopers unsympathetically set a rapid pace along the road to Charkari.