_BY THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE_
Jhansi had fallen. At the revolt of their troops the Foreigners were
taken completely by surprise. They hastily retreated to the Star Fort
where, after a valorous defense for three days, lack of food and
ammunition compelled them to surrender. They were obliged to seek terms
of Ahmad Khan who was conducting the siege.
If they evacuated the fort would they be permitted to leave the state
unmolested? was the request made under a flag of truce.
In response, Ahmad solemnly swore upon the holy Koran that if the
Foreigners would open the gates no harm should befall them.
But the oath of the Mohammedan was not regarded as sufficiently
binding. The Foreigners required a further assurance of safety from the
Rani.
In her name Ahmad reiterated his vow of protection. This was all the
hope of security they could possibly look for in their desperate
situation. The Rani had ever been regarded as an upright woman. Upon
the faith of her word they opened the gates and laid down their arms.
Then under Ahmad's direction they marched out to a field nearby,--a
pitiful, defenseless band, of men, women, and children.
The sun never shone upon a more brutal tragedy.
Beside a clump of trees all were ruthlessly butchered. Their honor
alone was spared. Without a plea for mercy, without a cry of anguish,
these heroes met a cruel fate, that might have been averted by a less
exacting government.
Ahmad Khan was elated almost to a condition of intoxication by this
final successful act of the revolt. He was now prompted to strike
another immediate blow to gratify a long secretly nourished ambition.
While outwardly he had professed intense devotion to the Rani's cause,
in his heart, he aspired to seat himself on the throne of the Rajas of
Jhansi. As to the Rani, he purposed that her rule should be encompassed
by the walls of a luxurious _harem_.
At the head of a crime-frenzied Mohammedan band, bearing upon the
points of their bayonets ghastly trophies of the recent massacre, he
set forth on a triumphant progress to the palace.
To secure his object, he instructed his followers to overawe the Hindu
population, devoted to the Rani's cause, by fierce gestures and loud
shouts in his honor.
He entered the gate set in the massive stone wall, and waved his sword
aloft crying--
"The Faith. The holy Faith. Success to the Faith of Mohammed."
His soldiers pressed closely upon the flanks of his horse. They
brandished their weapons and struck dismay into the hearts of the Hindu
guard, by adding exultingly to their distinctive shout of victory--
"And may Ahmad Khan, the Servant of God, long reign in Jhansi."
Onward the mob swept through the city, again and again vociferously
proclaiming Ahmad Khan, Raja of Jhansi. The joy of the Hindus over
their deliverance from Foreign rule gave place to alarm. They watched
with misgiving a second _coup d' etat_ on the part of their hereditary
enemies, and began to wonder whether they would not fare worse under
the rule of a follower of Mohammed, than they had done under that of
the Foreigner.
In her palace the Rani anxiously awaited news of the surrender. Through
Ahmad she had given the assurance that the Foreigners' lives would be
spared. This course she had strenuously urged upon her lieutenant.
Apart from her womanly repugnance to ruthless slaughter, she clearly
perceived the advantage she would gain by holding them as prisoners to
exchange for the recognition of her right to the throne of Jhansi. To
kill the innocent, the already defeated, did not occupy a thought in
her mind.
The news came swift and ominous. Not only had a tragedy taken place,
but her own authority was in danger of usurpation.
The exultant Mohammedan cry rolled forward to the walls of the palace.
It penetrated to the Rani's ears at first as a welcome sound; but
as it rose in the courtyard bearing aloft the name of Ahmad Khan, a
disquieting thought flashed into her brain.
She hurried to the _Darbar_ hall, entering at one end, as Ahmad,
surrounded by his officers, crossed the threshold at the other.
The Rani halted and waited. Intuitively she gleaned confirmation of her
sudden alarm from their faces.
Ahmad advanced and saluted her with pointed courtesy. He was a tall,
powerfully built man, whose swarthy irregular features indicated a
mingling of low caste blood. As a whole his face was not unhandsome,
though the expression of his mouth and chin denoted cruelty and
treachery--the latter, perhaps, an accomplishment rather than a failing
to the Oriental mind.
"Greeting, fair Lady," he exclaimed. "Jhansi is won. The Foreigners
have surrendered."
She directed a searching glance to read the veiled meaning expressed in
his intonation as well as in his manner.
"They have surrendered. Then where are they"? she asked. "Hast thou not
brought any of them hither"?
A cruel smile broke upon Ahmad's face as he turned and pointed with the
blade of his sword to the open doorway, through which could be caught a
glimpse of the surging mob without, uplifting their bloody trophies.
"Aye," he explained, "I have brought some of them here. The rest I have
sent to a secure prison."
His gesture was observed by his followers. The shout rose with greater
volume than before--
"_Deen! Deen! Futteh. Mohammed._"
"Success to the Faith of Mohammed."
For a moment the Rani covered her eyes with her hands, as if to blot
out the gruesome spectacle. Then she demanded sternly--
"Why hast thou done this, my Lord? Surely thou hast not killed them
all"?
"Aye, all, fair Lady. And why not"? he returned, in plausible accents.
"Because I commanded you to spare their lives if they surrendered," she
retorted, passionately.
Ahmad bowed low with feigned contrition.
"But, my Lady Lachmi Bai," he protested, "a higher authority, the
Emperor of Delhi, had commanded me to spare none of them. Further his
Majesty hath been pleased to place the government of the State of
Jhansi in my hands until more settled times."
The two stood for a short period confronting each other in silence,
Ahmad with a look of unconcealed triumph on his face, on that of the
Rani, anger mingled with defiance.
"So this was his purpose! A plot within a plot revealed."
He strode up to her and with assurance took her by the hand. Then he
spoke in a lower voice.
"Ah! Fair Rani. Thou art but a child, a girl fit rather to play with
gems than swords and scepters. But fear not, thou shalt rule in Jhansi.
Thou knowest well for what I hunger. All that thou longest for, thou
shalt possess in return. It is a good bargain, is it not, Beautiful
One"?
Her glance swept from his face to the crowd of his officers standing
to his order in the background. She realized that the dominion for
which she had so long and patiently striven was about to be seized
by another at the moment of its accomplishment. By one, too whose
religious principles were repugnant, and whose profession of personal
devotion she had but tolerated for reasons of state. She saw the trap
into which she had fallen, and from which an immediate counterstroke of
diplomacy could alone save her.
Her mind was quick to grasp the situation and suggest a remedy.
With an effort she curbed her resentment and turned a look of approval
upon the traitor.
"Aye, thou speakest truly," she replied, in a thoughtful tone. "I am,
as thou sayest, but a girl, to whom the reins of government would be
of little pleasure. I had longed that the Foreigners be driven forth
from Jhansi. Now they are here no more to anger me, why should I not be
satisfied? But, O Ahmad," she continued confidentially, "I would speak
with thee alone. Send, I pray thee, these people of thine from the
palace. I like not their fierce looks and clash of arms."
Ahmad was surprised. He had anticipated a stormy scene with the Rani,
and a possible resort to force before she could be brought to submit
to his will. Consequently he was gratified to meet with so little
resistance to both his political and personal designs. For the moment
he failed to remember that the brain which had displayed such masterly
craft in plotting the downfall of the Foreigners would be swift to use
the same power in frustrating his own project.
In compliance with her desire he faced his officers.
"Go," he commanded. "Return to the cantonments and in my name seize all
the possessions of the Foreigners."
When the soldiers had left the hall the Rani drew close to him and
spoke in a beguiling voice.
"O my Lord, thou must see how poorly I am attired in honor of so great
an event. I would retire for a short space, to adorn my neck with
jewels, and my hair with flowers; so that I may appear worthy of the
noble Ahmad Khan's approval."
Blinded by vanity, he was flattered and deceived by her cajolery. He
stretched forth his arms to enfold her in an embrace.
"Thou shadow of an _houri_," he exclaimed amorously.
She eluded him by a quick movement.
"In a little," she returned, playfully. "See that thou waitest until I
come again to thee. Then shalt thou swear by thy Prophet's beard, that
Lachmi Bai hath wit as well as beauty."
"Until death," he replied, "only tarry not too long, Fair One."
She cast toward him an enthralling glance, and passing from the hall,
hurried to the inner apartments of the palace.
"Now by Allah"! he reflected, exultingly. "The fortune of Ahmad Khan,
the Humble Servant of God, doth rise as the sun in a cloudless heaven."
The Rani's action was swift and silent. She summoned those upon whom
she could rely and spoke in urgent accents.
"Go quickly," she commanded to one, "into the bazaars and summon all my
people to the courtyard of the palace." To another, "Let my retainers
arm themselves and guard every outlet so that no man passes in or
forth. Tell Prasad and my officers, that I need their presence on the
balcony overlooking the main entrance. Go, with wings on your feet.
Hasten, for there is no time to be lost."
She passed into a private chamber and hastily arrayed herself in a
magnificent embroidered _sari_, the silken clinging texture of which
displayed her form to its perfection of royal beauty. Round her neck
she hung ropes of pearls, and in her hair she entwined a wreath of
fragrant blossoms. Thus attired she proceeded to the wide balcony
overlooking the courtyard.
A throng of people had gathered and crowded about the main entrance.
Others were hurrying from the bazaars and side streets at the bidding
of the Rani's messengers. With animated countenances, they asked of
each other the meaning of the summons.
Behind the domes and turrets of the rock citadel, the sun was sinking
toward the horizon. It cast broad shadows over the courtyard, now
filling rapidly with a surging, excited, human mass. The Rani was
quickly joined by Prasad and officers faithful to her service. With
these in attendance she moved to the edge of the parapet.
Immediately an outburst of enthusiasm rose from the people, gathering
in force until a great shout filled the air about the palace.
"Lachmi Bai. Lachmi Bai. Rani of Jhansi," they cried.
She leaned over the parapet and smiled.
Again the cry rose, "Lachmi Bai. Lachmi Bai. Rani of Jhansi."
She raised her hand to enjoin silence. Gradually the tumult ceased.
Then she spoke to them. Her resonant, clear, voice filled the open
space. Each word fell musically upon the ears of her audience.
"My people," she began. "At last you have been freed from the rule of
the Foreigner. To-day, a great blow has been delivered by you for our
independence--a blow that will resound in the most distant provinces
of our land. Through your loyalty and courage, the end for which we
have so long striven has been attained. To you belongs the spoil, the
treasure that has fallen into our hands. It is your reward."
A murmur of applause told that the point had been well received.
"But my people," she proceeded. "You are still encompassed by great
peril. The Foreigner is destroyed, but others of his race may return
to try and wrest from you, your country. Enemies, too, may rise from
within as rapacious and as hateful of your religion. It is necessary
that you choose without delay a fearless and capable ruler."
A few voices called on her by name, but she again silenced them.
"As you well know," she continued, "by our law, to me belongs the right
of succession to the throne of Jhansi."
"Aye, truly," many cried. "Lachmi Bai. Lachmi Bai. Rani of Jhansi."
"But, my good people, as the noble Raja, Ahmad Khan, hath pointed out,
I am but a girl, uninstructed in the wiles of statecraft, unused to
the wielding of a sword in dangerous times. A Raja, he declares, must
be seated on the throne of Jhansi. Why not then the illustrious Ahmad
Khan"?
Spontaneously the cry rose, "For us no stranger, no Mohammedan! We want
him not to rule over us. Lachmi Bai. Lachmi Bai. Rani of Jhansi."
"But, good people," she persisted, as if earnestly pleading Ahmad's
cause. "Ahmad Khan is a brave soldier. He is"----
Her voice was drowned in an uproar that shook the walls of the palace.
Her name alone was borne upward by thousands of unyielding throats.
"Lachmi Bai. Rani of Jhansi. Lachmi Bai. Rani of Jhansi."
She stretched out her arms lovingly toward them. She appealed to them
with a captivating smile.
"Would you then have Lachmi Bai for your ruler in Jhansi"?
A great shout rose and confirmed her in her right to the title. The
throngs surged back and forth in the endeavor of those furthest away to
reach a spot nearer to her person.
"Come to us," they cried. "Come down amid thy people, O Rani."
With a radiant countenance, she passed down the flight of stone steps
into the courtyard. Unguarded she moved among the mass of people,
stirred to a frenzy of enthusiasm by her presence. Some knelt in her
path to touch the hem of her garment, while others waved their weapons
aloft, vowing they would defend her to the death.
Darkness fell with the swiftness of the Tropics. She turned to re-enter
the palace, and torches flared to light her path. They gave to the
scene a weird, majestic splendor--the irregular outlines of the palace
overshadowed by the huge black mass of the fortress; the exultant,
white robed throng; the stern faces of the soldiers; the girl, whose
mysterious being swayed their emotions like the wind playing upon lotus
reeds.
In the _Darbar_ hall Ahmad Khan impatiently awaited the Rani's return.
He was startled by the cries of the populace, and dismayed at the
discovery that his egress was blocked. Uneasily he paced back and
forth, wondering what these ominous signs betokened. He cursed his
imprudence at having dismissed his followers at so critical a moment.
"Tricked, I doubt not," he savagely exclaimed. "But one more fool who
loses a crown in exchange for a woman's smile."
The Rani and her officers swept into the hall. Ahmad's hand impulsively
grasped the hilt of his sword--a gesture which Prasad imitated by half
withdrawing his from its scabbard.
The Hindu noble advanced a few paces, regarding Ahmad's sullen
countenance as if willing to accept a challenge.
"Peace, my Lords," the Rani cried authoritatively.
She laid a restraining hand on Prasad's arm.
"Peace. It is my will. This is no hour to broach a feud."
She then fearlessly advanced to Ahmad's side, and addressed him calmly.
"My Lord Raja," said she. "My people will have it that I rule over
Jhansi."
She held up her hand to draw his attention to the acclamations which
penetrated the innermost recesses of the palace.
"You hear them," she continued. "I espoused your cause to the best of
my ability; but, it seems, they will have no other than Lachmi Bai to
be their Rani."
"And now," she concluded, addressing all present, "I look to you,
Ahmad, Prasad, and all my brave officers to unite for one object, the
defense of my throne and Jhansi."
Ahmad glanced round upon the determined faces of the Rani's loyal
supporters, as they vowed to maintain the crown upon her head. He
realized that, in turn, he had been outwitted. By a low obeisance he
outwardly acknowledged her authority.
"The people are God's," he murmured, "the country is the _Padshah's_,
and the _Raj_ is the Rani's."
Thus was Lachmi Bai proclaimed Rani of Jhansi.