CHAPTER VII.
Sevajee, on his return, finding that there was no enemy to oppose him, soon regained the territory which he had lost during his captivity. All the mountain forts again fell into his hands, and he found himself in a better condition than ever to frustrate the supremacy of the Mogul Emperor in Southern India. In a few months this enterprising warrior was at the head of an army of fifty thousand soldiers, all daring men, accustomed to the privations and fatigues of mountain warfare, and possessing that activity, hardihood, and bodily energy peculiar to mountaineers. Calculating his power, Sevajee determined upon some exploit that should signalize his return from what he considered a humiliating bondage. Assembling a body of fifteen thousand choice troops, he marched towards Surat, during the rains, when an assault from enemies was the least expected.
One morning a Banian entered that city, offering various stuffsfor sale. Being a facetious man—as, indeed, most of those itinerant traders are—and having a quantity of choice brocades, he readily found admittance into the houses of the opulent citizens. Surat at this time was surrounded only by a slight mud wall, a very insufficient defence against the attacks of a daring enemy; but, secure in their immense wealth and commercial importance, the citizens never seem to have thought upon a hostile attack from any quarter, and it being now the period of the monsoon, they slumbered in perfect security. The Banian visited all parts of Surat with his pack, meeting everywhere with a flattering reception, and especially in the houses of the wealthy merchants. For three days he continued in the city. When he had sold all his merchandise, he departed with the general goodwill of the citizens.
In order to mislead the inhabitants of Surat, Sevajee had divided his forces into two bodies, with which he encamped before two important places, as if about to besiege them. Suddenly he ordered the troops to withdraw from those places, leaving only small parties who had received his instructions to keep up a continued clamour, and have lights burning during the night, in order to give the appearance of a large army encamped on the spot. These devices were completely successful in lulling the suspicions of the citizens of Surat. The streets were thronged by day with thrifty traders, the bazaars with busy chafferers, who by night reposed in unapprehensive safety. In the midst of their slumbers, however, they were roused by the din of arms. Starting from their beds, they were stunned with the shrieks of women and the cries of men. The confusion was indescribable. An enemy was within the walls, but amid the darkness it was impossible to distinguish friends from foes. The clash of arms was everywhere heard, mingled with the groans of the dying and the shrieks of the despairing. Terror magnified the danger. The enemy appeared an overwhelming host, sweeping through the streets like a torrent, and spreading death around like a blast of the simoom. There was little or no resistance. A long and indolent security seemed to have unnerved every arm, and the bad cause triumphed.
Day dawned, and presented a spectacle of general devastation.The Mahrattas had become masters of Surat. The Banian who had received the hospitality of its citizens was recognised in the Mahratta chief, who now reclaimed without an equivalent the merchandise which he had so lately sold. The mercy of the conqueror was propitiated by submission to the pillage which he directed to be made. He permitted no bloodshed after the surrender, but practically showed, however, that he fully understood the law of appropriation. All the rich merchants and factors were obliged to exhibit their stores, and redeem them at a valuation. For three days the work of plunder continued, but no personal violence was offered to any of the inhabitants. When Sevajee had satisfied his appetite for pillage, and that of his troops, he retired from the city of Surat, with booty supposed to have exceeded in value one million sterling.
Aurungzebe was exceedingly mortified when he heard of this daring violation of the laws of honourable warfare; looking upon it as an act of mere predatory aggression, at once unbecoming a soldier and a prince. He now took the same resolution which he had already so frequently acted upon, but with little eventual success, of sending an army against Sevajee that should extinguish his power for ever. Accordingly he ordered a hundred thousand men under command of an experienced and active general to proceed to the Deccan. The young favourite already mentioned was made second in command, and marched with the high and proud hope of distinguishing himself in the field against the most formidable enemy of his sovereign. His birth was a general mystery, but such were his popular virtues, that although Aurungzebe had raised him to a post of distinction about his own person, still this advancement had excited little jealousy among the nobles, who generally admitted him to be deserving of such honour.
When the Mogul army reached the Deccan, they found Sevajee at the head of a numerous force. By adopting his usual system of mountain strategy, harassing his enemy by sudden surprises, cutting off their supplies, falling upon straggling parties, and keeping up continued alarms in their camp, the indefatigable Mahrattasoon thinned their ranks, and reduced them to considerable distress. He carefully avoided meeting his enemies in the open field, conscious not only of his own numerical inferiority, but of the superior discipline of the Moguls. By no strategem could they withdraw him from his mountain fastnesses. The troops at length became dispirited, and clamoured either to be led at once against the mountaineers, or return to the imperial city, as they were wasting their energies in difficult marches and skirmishes, without coming into fair contact with a foe.
In order to still these murmurings, the youthful officer, who had been appointed second in command, offered to lead a detachment of twenty thousand troops among the hills, and engage the enemy upon his own ground. This proposal was acceded to by the general in chief. The young commander repaired with his detachment to the mountains. Sevajee, as usual, avoided a conflict until he could avail himself of some advantage of position.
One morning the Mogul camp was suddenly attacked, but the young general forming his squadrons behind their tents, soon repulsed the assailants, and pursuing them into the gorges of the mountains, slew many, and took several prisoners. In the heat of pursuit he was separated from his troops. Turning into a narrow valley, he received an arrow discharged by some hidden archer, through the fleshy part of his left arm. Heated by the ardour of pursuit, and pained by the wound, he spurred forward, forgetting that he was alone. Suddenly his horse was shot under him: he fell—but almost instantly springing upon his feet, looked round and perceived that he was not followed by a single Mogul. Just as he was preparing to retrace his steps, he saw an armed Mahratta advancing towards him. Calmly awaiting his approach, and perceiving that he was no common enemy, the Mogul cried—“Do I see the leader of the Mahrattas?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because of all others he is the man I would meet hand to hand.”
“Then you may enjoy your wish, for Sevajee stands before you.”
There was no further parley; the two leaders encountered with mutual animosity. The struggle was fierce but short. The Mogul, being embarrassed by the wound in his arm, and somewhat enfeebled by consequent loss of blood, was unable to bring his best energies to the encounter. Sevajee was superior both in strength and activity, and very soon struck his adversary to the earth by a severe sabre-stroke on the head. The Mogul, being stunned, was quite at the mercy of his foe; but that foe was as generous as he was brave. Struck with the youth and beauty of his enemy, Sevajee supported the youth’s head, and opening his vest to expedite the recall of his senses, saw to his astonishment the distinct mark of a spear-head upon the right breast. Raising a clear shrill cry, in a few moments he was surrounded by his followers, whom he ordered to lift the wounded officer and bear him to one of his mountain fortresses in the neighbourhood. The blow which he had received on the head was so severe as to render him insensible: the sabre, had, nevertheless, inflicted no wound. The numerous folds of his turban had repelled it.
Upon recovering his consciousness, the young Mogul perceived that he was in the hands of his enemy. The wound in his arm had been dressed and carefully bandaged, and in the course of that evening he became an inmate of one of Sevajee’s strongholds. On the following day he was brought into the presence of Rochinara, who greeted him with a courtesy which seemed to throw a gleam of sunshine upon his captivity.
Sevajee approaching him with a bland air besought him to bare his bosom. He immediately exposed it to the view of the princess, who, gazing at him for a moment in speechless astonishment, rushed forward, threw herself upon his neck and covered it with her tears. “My child,” at length she cried—“my long lost son, you are come here to freedom and to joy: in your vanquisher behold a parent,—in me behold a mother. That mark upon your breast, stamped there before the light of heaven had beamed upon the embryo babe, is too strong and unerring a signature by God’s hand to be mistaken.”
The youth’s astonishment was extreme, but there were certainpassages in his life with which he alone was familiar, that to his mind perfectly ratified what he now heard, and elucidated what to his mind had ever been wrapped in painful secrecy. Sevajee embraced his son, who told him that a mystery had always hung over his birth, which he had in vain endeavoured to unravel. He had been brought up at a solitary village, in a family with whom, though treated with kindness, he was not happy. He had been instructed by a learned Mussulman in the literature of his country, and his natural predilection for all manly exercises naturally led him to become an adept in the use of arms. He was treated with evident deference by the persons who had the charge of his infancy, which always induced him to suspect that his birth was above their condition. At the age of fifteen being summoned to the court of Aurungzebe, he was immediately distinguished by his sovereign, and shortly raised to a post of responsibility.
The meeting between the long-lost son and his parents was one of tender and reciprocal congratulation. Sambajee, by which name he was henceforward known, was too much rejoiced at having been restored to his parents to feel any desire of returning to the imperial court.
As soon as his wound was sufficiently healed to enable him to venture out, he rejoined the Mogul army. As he was extremely beloved by the troops, among whom was a large body of Rajpoots, he had no difficulty in persuading those more especially under his own command, to revolt from the Emperor and join the forces of Sevajee. To the surprise and consternation of the Mogul general, in one night nearly one half of his army went over to the Mahrattas, and left him no longer in a condition to face those formidable enemies of the state. Breaking up his encampment, therefore, he returned to Delhi with the news of his ill success, occasioned by the revolt of the troops and their union with the foe. Aurungzebe could not repress his indignation at these tidings. He now saw that the strength of his enemy was increased to such a degree as to render him a dangerous rival!—that the harmony of his family was disturbed, and his favourite, on whomhe had lavished honours and whom he had intended to advance to still higher distinctions, had turned traitor.
Sevajee now became the most powerful prince of Southern India. He could muster an army of fifty thousand foot and a hundred thousand horse. Dreaded by the neighbouring potentates, and having raised the reputation of his arms by foiling the legions of Aurungzebe, he determined to satisfy his pride and dazzle his followers by a formal coronation, modelled upon that of the Mogul, in which the weighing against gold and other pompous ceremonies were not omitted. Gifts to an immense value, bestowed upon Brahmins; gave lustre to this as well as to other high political festivals.
From this time the prosperity of Sevajee continued without abatement until his death, which happened in the year 1680, at the age of fifty, and he was succeeded by his son Sambajee. The Princess Rochinara did not long survive him.
THE END.
WOODFALL AND KINDER, PRINTERS, LONG ACRE, LONDON