Empire of the Sikhs (9 page)

At the age of six, in 1786, he nearly lost his life to an attack of smallpox when, according to some accounts, he was with Mahan Singh at Jammu who, despite his high fever, took him back to Gujranwala Fort. But this version of events is contradicted by some historians who hold that Mahan Singh was campaigning in Jammu when he was informed of his son's illness in Gujranwala. Be that as it may, it took twenty-one days for the fever to abate and several more days for the boy to open his eyes. When he did it was found that he had lost all sight in his left eye. Throughout his illness his father had prayers read out for him day and night from the Granth Sahib, the Hindu scriptures and the Koran. Money was distributed to the poor and donations for followers of all three faiths were sent to Sitla Devi (Goddess of the Smallpox Temple), Jawala Mukhi and the Kangra temples.

The age of six seemed to have a special significance in Ranjit Singh's life because his first marriage also took place in 1786 soon after he recovered from his illness. His bride Mehtab Kaur was five.
The dating of this event, too, is a matter of controversy, some records stating that he was sixteen when he married. Most of the evidence, however, points to the earlier date. Marriages in those days were usually arranged for political or dynastic reasons, and the practice was to book them early lest other parents with similar concerns stole a march in the marriage market. The Sukerchakia and Kanhayia
misls
being among the foremost of the twelve, Ranjit Singh's marriage to the daughter of the Kanhayias promised to forge an enviable alliance. No one was more aware of this than Mehtab Kaur's mother Sada Kaur, who would take over the leadership of the Kanhayias in 1789 on the death of her father-in-law Jai Singh, her husband Gurbaksh Singh having been killed earlier in a battle with the Ramgarhia
misl
in February 1785 when she was twenty-two.

Most accounts agree that when Ranjit Singh's mother Raj Kaur went to the Hindu shrine of Jawalamukhi in the hilly region of Kangra to pray for the recovery of her son, Sada Kaur followed and persuaded her to agree to the marriage of her daughter with Ranjit Singh. After the boy's recovery his father organized a grand feast at Gujranwala to which Mehtab Kaur's grandfather, Jai Singh Kanhayia, the
misl
chief, was also invited. It was on this occasion that he formally asked Mahan Singh for his son Ranjit Singh's hand in marriage to his granddaughter. The betrothal and marriage were, as was to be expected, celebrated on a spectacular scale.

The special nature of the boy may be grasped from the fact that within three years of his attack of smallpox he took over the siege of Sodhran, in 1789 at the age of nine, when his father was suddenly stricken by a serious illness. It was an amazingly young age to take on such a task, even in a period when major responsibility could often come considerably sooner than in modern times. The town of Sodhran, lying some twenty-five miles southeast of Gujranwala, belonged to the Bhangi chief's son Sahib Singh, Mahan Singh's brother-in-law. In an engagement typical of the
time Mahan Singh laid siege to it after Sahib Singh had refused to pay him tribute in acknowledgement of his suzerainty. The Bhangi
misl
chieftains, seeing in Mahan Singh's illness an opportune moment to help their besieged kin in Sodhran, headed for the town in force in order to annex it permanently. But they were ambushed and decisively defeated by young Ranjit Singh's quick thinking and actions which would become characteristic of him throughout his life. His father did not live to see his son's Sodhran victory over the Bhangis; by the time he arrived back in Gujranwala Mahan Singh was already dead.

In a brief
pagri-
or turban-tying ceremony, Ranjit Singh became the chief of the Sukerchakia
misl.
‘When he first stood in his father's place,' wrote a British author nearer to Ranjit Singh's time than our own, ‘everything was against him. He was beset by enemies, by doubtful friends, false allies and open foes.'
⁶
Yet he overcame them all with an unflinching sense of purpose which again became evident within a year of his father's death, in April 1790. Resolved to put an end to his new young rival, Hashmat Khan of the Chathas, smarting from the defeats his
misl
had suffered at Mahan Singh's hands, waylaid young Ranjit Singh when he was out hunting and made a slash at him with his sword, which was deftly evaded. Ranjit Singh's return blow proved fatal for Hashmat Khan.

There was no set pattern to Ranjit Singh's life during the years in which he grew to adulthood. His time was almost entirely taken up not with the customary occupations of boyhood but with military campaigns, which left him with no option but to be on horseback most of the time, often covering over fifty miles a day in the saddle. During these years of unending battles, which ranged from taking some of the Sikh
misl
chiefs head-on to warring with India's Muslim rulers in addition to the Pathans, Afghans and other invaders who had always considered India fair game, his headquarters were at Gujranwala Fort.

There is a story of Ranjit Singh's mother, Raj Kaur, asking him to be wary as their enemies were trying to snatch away their lands. His reassuring reply was: ‘Don't be impatient, Mother, I shall not only take back my own lands but will also finish off the intruders.'
⁷

The notorious Afghan Ahmed Shah Abdali, founder of the Durrani dynasty, had repeatedly ransacked India before Ranjit Singh's time, but his grandson Zaman Shah was no less enthusiastic in pillaging and plundering India and even had an ambitious plan to found an Indian empire. The Afghans had long been held in considerable awe on the subcontinent. Ranjit Singh's first brush with Zaman Shah's army occurred when he invaded India for the second time in 1795; the first had been in 1793. In December 1795 Zaman Shah headed for Hasan Abdal, a place which, as Panja Sahib, has hallowed memories for the Sikhs since Guru Nanak sojourned there in the late fifteenth century. While Zaman stayed behind in Hasan Abdal, his general Ahmad Khan Shahanchibashi marched from Attock on the River Indus 200 miles to the town of Rohtas, which belonged to Ranjit Singh.

To confuse Zaman and draw his force from its base in Hasan Abdal, Ranjit Singh withdrew his men from Rohtas to Pind Dadan Khan in the salt ranges. When the Afghans attacked Ranjit Singh he crossed the River Jhelum, reassembled on its southern bank and sent his messengers to the regional Maratha chief, Daulat Rao Sindhia, at Aligarh, inviting him to join the Sikhs and expel the Afghan invader. There was, however, no response from the Maratha chief.

As fate would have it, Zaman had to return home in a hurry on hearing news of a revolt at Herat, but he was back again by October 1796, for the third time, camping in Peshawar for a month. Ranjit Singh's rapid manoeuvres once again had the Afghans baffled. He established himself with a force of 10,000 men
across the Jhelum not far from Peshawar, then moved to Pind Dadan Khan, then on to Miani, then suddenly crossed the Jhelum for a surprise attack on the Durranis at Pind Dadan Khan before recrossing the river once again. At this point Zaman Shah addressed a letter to Ranjit Singh asking him to desist from opposing him. Ranjit Singh's reply is celebrated. ‘Through the grace of the Guru every Sikh is bound to be victorious.'
⁸

Still on his third invasion, Zaman Shah entered Lahore in January 1797 with a formidable force. Lahore had been officially made an Afghan province in 1752 after the Abdalis had wrested it from the Mughals. Zaman did not want to waste time in Lahore because he was keen to reach Amritsar to settle the Sikh problem once and for all. Ranjit Singh could barely wait to take him on. When a detachment of the Afghan army first took the offensive and attacked Amritsar on 11 January 1797 it suffered a humiliating defeat with much loss of blood. A furious Zaman Shah, beside himself with rage, now took personal command and arrived in Amritsar the next day. He, too, was not only vanquished but was chased all the way to the gates of Lahore by the Sikh army.

To make certain that the Durrani hordes would never again set foot in India, Ranjit Singh invited Sahib Singh to join him in expelling him. Sahib Singh was chief of the Phulkian
misl,
whose great-grandfather, Ala Singh, had been made Raja of Patiala by Ahmed Shah Abdali during a previous invasion of India in 1763, the same Abdali who a year before that had blown the Harmandir Sahib apart, filled the sacred pool with human bodies and carcasses of cows, killed thousands of pilgrims and made a pyramid of Sikh heads on the site. Not surprisingly, Ranjit Singh received no reply from Sahib Singh. Most of what the Patiala family owned had come to it through Abdali's largesse.

Zaman Shah, still smarting from his defeat at the gates of Amritsar, left Lahore in February 1797 for Peshawar
en route
for Afghanistan. His general Ahmad Khan Shahanchibashi, left behind
at Rohtas to take care of the Sikhs, was finished off there on 29 April 1797. With India still very much on his mind, Zaman launched his last invasion in September 1798, eager to drive the Sikhs out of Punjab and put a decisive end to Ranjit Singh's power. The various battles and skirmishes that took place during this visit took him no further towards ending Sikh power, and when he received news from Afghanistan of a serious threat to his throne in Kabul he hastened back to his capital. Taking advantage of his absence, the Iranians had invaded Khorasan in Afghanistan and were making their way to Kabul. In his precipitate departure, Zaman lost twelve of his prized cannon in the Jhelum river which was in spate. The loss of these guns in fact proved a turning point in his relations with Ranjit Singh who, on receiving an urgent plea for his help in retrieving the guns, magnanimously complied. Zaman Shah then assured Ranjit Singh that he would not oppose his taking over Lahore.

On returning home, Zaman Shah was soon in the thick of rampant court intrigues and fateful events which will be related later.

It may be asked at this point what help and guidance was available to Ranjit Singh during his formative years, who was close to him and may have influenced him. One friend in particular deserves mention: Gurmukh Singh, eight years older than Ranjit Singh, who came into the family around the time Ranjit was born. The story goes that ‘In the summer of 1780, as Sardar Mahan Singh was passing through the little town of Kheora on his return from an expedition in the neighbourhood of Pind Dadan Khan, Gurmukh Singh, then a boy of eight years, was presented to him by his uncle Basti Ram, the Toshakhania [Treasurer]. The Sardar was pleased with the bright eyes and intelligent looks of the boy and kept him with himself. Later in the same year Ranjit Singh was born, and Gurmukh was appointed his companion.'
⁹
An enduring friendship developed between Ranjit Singh and Gurmukh Singh,
who was to be by his side when he captured Lahore in 1799. Because of his trust in him the Sukerchakia chief not only put him in charge of all the treasures of Lahore that fell into his hands but made him paymaster of his victorious army.

Ranjit Singh's learning of Gurmukhi and his grounding in the beliefs, ethics and tenets of the Sikh faith at a very early age played a key role in the shaping of his humane character and of the state's even-handed policies under his rule. The extent of his commitment from a very young age to secular ideals, that is, his open-mindedness to other religions and cultures besides his own,
¹⁰
is borne out by the fact that while he loved composing verses in Punjabi, which was an integral part of his being, he made Persian the official language of the Lahore Durbar. Although he did not know it at this age – the only other language he knew besides his own was Gurmukhi – he was as attracted to Persian as he was to Urdu, Kashmiri, Sindhi and many other regional languages.

While there is no denying his fascination throughout his early years with horsemanship, hunting, shooting and swordsmanship, another side of him drew inspiration from the spiritual under-pinnings of his faith; an inspiration that could have come only from the environment of the household in which he grew up. He was, after all, a great-great-grandson of the legendary Desu (Budha Singh), who had gone to Guru Gobind Singh at the age of fifty to be baptized into the Khalsa at Anandpur and who had died at Gurdas Nangal in 1715 fighting by the side of Banda Singh Bahadur. There can be little doubt that having the blood of this larger-than-life figure in his veins must have been more influential in shaping his leaderly qualities than any formal education could have been and that in his formative years there was more going for him than even he could have realized.