Swords From the East (73 page)

Read Swords From the East Online

Authors: Harold Lamb

Tags: #Historical Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Short Stories (Single Author), #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Suspense, #Adventure Fiction, #Historical, #Short Stories, #Adventure Stories

BOOK: Swords From the East
2.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

And as we were greatly outnumbered, and my men disturbed by the bold charges of the pagans, I tried to make our position stronger by fashioning wooden barriers. I ordered things like tripods to be made of wood and fitted with wheels and chained together by ropes of twisted bull's hide. On these heavy tripods the matchlock men were to lay their pieces.

While my men were still alarmed and dispirited, a rascally fellow, Muhammad Sherif, the astrologer, began to add to their fears. Instead of helping me, he pointed out to everyone he met that Mars was in the west, and as we were going into battle from the east, we would assuredly be defeated.

Without listening to him, I went on fortifying the line and trying to get my men in a fit state to meet the enemy.

A day or two later, as I mounted to survey my position, I became moody during the ride. I reflected that I had put off the time of abstaining from my sins. Now that I had entered upon a holy war against infidels, I vowed to drink wine no more.

All my gold and silver drinking goblets I ordered broken up and given to the dervishes and the poor. I resolved to cease cutting my beard and allow it to grow. The wine that we had with us we poured out upon the ground. That night many of my ameers and warriors followed my example.

Meanwhile a general uneasiness prevailed in the camp. No one uttered a manly word. The wazirs who should have given good counsel and the ameers who were now masters of kingdoms alike did not utter a brave word. At last, when I observed this I called them together and spoke to them.

"Gentlemen and soldiers-every man that comes into the world must leave it. When we are gone, God alone survives, unchanged. Whosoever sits at the feast of life must drink the cup of death at the end. He who quarters himself at the inn of mortality must one day pass out of this house of sorrow-the world.

"It is better to die with honor than to live in shame. God has been good to us. If we die, death itself yields us immortal fame; if we live, we shall be the avengers of God. Let us swear by His great name that none of us will turn his face aside from the conflict until his soul is parted from his body."

Master and servant, great and small, swore the oath on the Koran. The effect of the oath was visible throughout the camp.

Yet at this moment danger threatened us. Districts and forts near and far fell into the hands of rebels and enemies. Another army of pagans blockaded Gwalior. Every day unpleasant news reached us, and the Hindustanis began to desert my army.

We let the fugitives go, but after a few days I decided that my men would be in better spirit if we advanced. I ordered forward my guns and the tripods, and the barricades, keeping the divisions of the army in battle array. The tripods had been placed on carriage wheels.

Ustad Ali was placed directly behind these machines, with the matchlock men, to keep communication between the real guns and the infantry behind him.

After the ranks were formed and every man in his place, I galloped along the line, speaking to each officer and giving each division instructions how to act.

The pagans were on the alert, and several parties of Rajputs drew out to observe us and advanced close up to us.

I did not intend to fight that day, and ordered the army to encamp, drawn up as it was, after moving two miles. At once we began to dig ditches and strengthen our barricades.

By way of taking an omen, I pushed on a few riders to skirmish with the enemy. They took a number of pagans and brought back their heads. This raised the spirits of my men.*

Three days later we repeated the maneuver. We reached the ground we had selected and were pitching tents and working at the ditches when our outposts hurried in with news that the enemy was in sight. I mounted at once and gave orders that every man should go to his post and remain there, and the barriers around the guns be strengthened as much as possible.

On the field of Kanwaha near a hill our forces were mustered when the pagan standards appeared about the middle of the second watch in the morning. Few elephants were to be seen at first. The Hindus were all mounted and carried light spears, the riders being clad in finely wrought mail.

Immediately they launched an attack upon the extreme right wing, where Humayun held command. The charge of the mailed riders was sudden and earth-shaking.

Many of the most experienced ameers and the veteran Moghul warriors had been held in reserve behind the center. At once Chin Timur Sultan was sent at a gallop toward the right wing with a strong body of horse.

At the same time Mustapha Roumi began to fire the cannon between the center and right. He fired excellently well, and as the pagans had charged in close array the heavy balls shook them considerably.

Rana Sanga began to send divisions from his rear to succor his men at this point. Accordingly, three of my officers with half the remaining reserve were detached to aid Humayun. Dust began to rise and cover everything and the clangor was excessive.

So many pagans had pressed forward on our right that they were cut up by Mustapha's shots before they reached our line, and-though they hesitated not at all-their army became disordered and confused. At places they broke through our men, but they were pushed back by the charges of the reserve in a mass without form or order.

Meanwhile the pagans had made an even more desperate charge upon the left wing, and it was necessary to send the last of the reserve with all the Begs and my most trusted officer, Yunis Ali, to strengthen this wing. Already two or three hours had passed and the sun was at its height.

The Rajputs were undaunted. They were excellent swordsmen but their only maneuver was to charge, since they expected to sweep over the line of our shallow ditch and thin barricades.

They were unable to do this. Our matchlock men and infantry were not driven from their ground, and when this was apparent the two tulughma, the flanking parties that had been badly cut up in the first charges, were ordered to circle the pagan array, to the best of their ability.

Rustam Turkoman and many others penetrated as far as the rear of the Rajput masses, and used their bows with great effect. This could not be seen at the time, but the Moghul household troops and cavaliers of the center were beginning to chafe and to cry out that they wished to enter the fight.

Perceiving their excellent spirit, orders were given that the mounted divisions of the center, the mail-clad hosts of Moghuls, and the imperial standards should go forward. They advanced slowly through the gaps in the barricades and then put their horses to the gallop. As they were few and the Rajputs many, the infantry and matchlock men were also directed to go forward.

Until now Ustad Ali had been making play with his cannon, and an order was sent to him to drag his guns forward.

When my warriors on the flanks saw what was happening they also put their horses to the charge without instructions-for in the heat of the fight no messengers could be sent to those in command of the wings.

Although my divisions of the center were fresh, and although the Rajputs had been cut up by cannon fire, they did not fall into confusion or lose spirit, while such weight of numbers halted our men, and wearied them. The enemy spurred their horses forward desperately.*

They were swept away by the balls of the matchlock men, and went to their death by the way of the flashing scimitar. And still others pressed against us, although the sun was no longer to be seen, and dust and smoke deepened the twilight that fell on the field of Kanwaha.

The line of our standards did not waver; the mailed hosts of Moghuls did not break, and these last charges of the enemy were hopeless. A more gallant army than the Rajputs could not have been brought into the field, but it was an army no longer. So many Rajputs were slain that the others rode whither they could, without leaders or hope of life.

Rana Sanga was borne away severely wounded. Rawul Udai Singh and several princes, with as many chieftains of clans, had joined the host of the slain, and the roads from the field of battle were strewn with the wounded that died by the way. The throngs of the fleeing passed between the arrows of our tulughma flankers, and wherever a rider went he looked down upon lifeless nobles in all their splendid garments-now food for the crows and the kites.

So the last blows were given, and the heads of the gallant pagans made into a mound. Darkness closed in, and the striker and the smitten, the victor and the vanquished were no longer to be seen. Only the earth itself, and its fruit of the dead, was to be seen under the stars of the night that ensued.

Once the enemy were defeated we pursued them with great slaughter.*
Their camp might be three miles distant from ours. On reaching it, I halted to inspect it, sending on some officers to harry the pagans and cut them off, so that they could not reassemble. Here I was guilty of neglect.

I should have gone on myself and not entrusted the pursuit to another. Nearly two miles beyond the enemy's camp I turned back, the day being spent, and reached my own about bedtime prayers.

The battle had been fought within sight of a hillock near our lines. On this mound I ordered a pyramid of the heads of the pagans to be raised. Immense numbers of the pagans had fallen, and we came upon bodies as far as Alwar and Mawat. At a council of my Begs it was decided not to go farther against the enemy, owing to want of water and the great heat of their desert country.

At this occasion, Muhammad Sherif, the astrologer, who had obstinately predicted defeat, came to congratulate me on my victory.

I poured out abuse on him. When I had relieved my heart by it-although he was self-conceited and an insufferable evil-speaker he was an old servant-I gave him a lakh as a present and ordered him to leave my dominion.

Indeed there was much to be done, in spite of the oppressive heat. Owing to the war with the pagans I had been unable to divide up the coun try into districts or set to work building the tanks and wells; nor had the treasure been portioned off.

I had sent Humayun up to the hill district of Kabul. Every month brought some new rebellion, and I was troubled by fever and by the lack of wine. I had given it up because of repentance, but now I began to repent of giving it up.

God willing, I would have set out at once for the hills to join Humayun and Kwajah Kilan, the old general. How is it possible that the delights of the hills should ever pass from memory? Or that a man like me, who had made a vow of abstinence, should forget the delicious melons and the grape wines of my homeland?

Not long ago they brought me a single muskmelon from my home. While I was cutting it up I felt lonely as an exile. While eating it, I could not help shedding tears.

Although troubled by lack of sleep and thirst, I was unable to be out of the saddle for long, owing to the contests against the pagan lords who had retired to their strongholds without submitting to me.

Medini Rao, one of the chief followers of Rana Sanga, had shut himself up in the fastness of Chanderi with his Rajputs-a place that is desert and jungle and mountains in one. In the beginning of the next winter I set out against Chanderi.

The army was equipped and reviewed and we moved down the Jumna. After we had crossed the river, I sent Chin Timur Sultan on ahead with a strong body of six or seven thousand men.

We marched on, day after day, until in the district of Malwa the country became wild and pathless. Halting here, I sent on overseers and pioneers to level the road and to cut into the jungle growth on either side so the guns that were dragged by elephants and bullock teams could pass. Near a tank below Chanderi we encamped, and went ahead to survey the fortress.

It was a celebrated stronghold, built on a hill. The outer fortifications and the town lay halfway up the hill, the citadel at the summit. The main road-the only one by which cannon could be moved up-ran right under the outer walls of the town.

The country around was excellent, abounding in water and hunting places. And Chanderi itself is eye-filling. The houses were of stone, and beautiful. Instead of tiles, they were covered with flagstones. The citadel was hewn out of white stone. Nor did it lack water-beneath it a huge tank had been hollowed out of the rock. And a covered way led down to another large tank within the town.

Next morning I rode out and posted the different commands. Ustad Ali chose a level stretch of ground under the town wall to place his cannon. While some of the men dug emplacements for the big guns, others labored at making mantlets of hide and scaling ladders.

As Medini Rao was a man of authority and bravery, and one of the chief followers of Rana Sanga, I sent two officers to him to assure him of favor and forgiveness, and to offer him another stronghold for Chanderi. He was then in the citadel with some five thousand Rajputs.

Whether he mistrusted me, or put too much faith in the strength of his fort, I do not know, but the negotiations were broken off, and six days later we moved up to attack.

That same morning, just as we reached our ground, my chief minister brought me letters that had come in at dawn. The army of the east had been set upon by Afghan forces and routed; it had abandoned Lucknow and was falling back on Kanauj, which was no more than a couple of days' ride from Agra.

My minister was dismayed and alarmed and asked what was to be done.

"Confusion and doubt are useless," I assured him. "Except by God's will nothing happens. It is better to say nothing about the disaster in our rear, but to attack the fort at once and take it."

Now the pagans had drawn most of their men into the citadel, which was thus strongly garrisoned, and the outer wall of the town had few to defend it. My men entered the outer fort easily, and after a slight resistance the pagans who had held it fled to the citadel.

I gave orders that every man should push on to the assault of the citadel as soon as my standard was lifted and the kettle-drum beaten. Then I went to see Ustad Ali's cannon-play.

He fired off some of the larger battering pieces; but, his ground being level, the guns could not be elevated sufficiently. As the citadel works were hewn out of rock, the damage done was trifling. It was necessary, then, to storm the almost impregnable walls, and to do this without delay.

Other books

Marking Time by Elizabeth Jane Howard
All About Love by Stephanie Laurens
Rosie O'Dell by Bill Rowe
Blacky Blasts Back by Barry Jonsberg
Exceptions to Reality by Alan Dean Foster
Caroselli's Accidental Heir by Michelle Celmer