The Muhammdans could nest fail to realize the momentous meaning of these proceedings at Delhi. The mews spread like wild fire that the Marathas had crowned their prince as, the Emperor of Hindustan. Nazibkhan and other Mnhammadan leaders pointed at those events as justifying their fears and attempts to rouse the Muhammadans to the gravity of the situation. They loudly declared that the much dreaded Hindu- Pad-Padashahi—nay, as Nazib and Muhammadan zealots would deliberately have it—the Brahman padshahi +++(5)+++ had become an accomplished fact. Let every Muhammadan who was true to his Prophet strike against the forces of the Kafirs!
But in spite of all these emotional ebullitions, self-interest began to weigh more, than all Nazib’s and Maulvis’ exhortations in the name of Muhanmmadanism, with Suja and other Moslems. The eyes of even such bigots as the Rohillas began to open. Impressed by the successes the Marathas had won in the very teeth of Abdally’s opposition, the supineness with which he could not but keep tolerating them, made them doubt Abdally’s power to check the Marathas. Suja actually wrote to Bhau expressing regret for having joined Abdally. Bhau, too thought prudernt to have him on and declared, through his envoys, that the Marathas did not mean to upset the Mogul Emperor and they would gladly appoint Suja himself as the Vazir of Shah, whom they acknowledged as Emperor, provided Suja left Abdally. The Robillas, too, began to hesitate and talk of deserting Abdally. Seeing how matters were seriously going against his fortune Abdally decided to open negotiations with the Marathas and sent his envoys to discuss the terms of peace. But Bhau was the last man to cede the Punjab to Abdally as he proposed. Nor was he likely to be duped by hollow discussions and thus let his opportunity pass of striking the iron while hot. So, even while these negotiations were half- heartedly carried on, he determined to advance towards the north and dislodge Abdally from one of the roost important positions he was holding at Kunjpura. It was guarded by a strong force under Samadkhan. Kutub Shah too was there. As soon as they were informed that the Marathas meant to attack it they made great preparations to defend the place against all comers. Abdally, too, from the other bank of the Jumna sent imperative orders to Samadkhan and Kutub Shah to hold out at all costs, and assured them that he had dispatched more forces to their help.
Bhau, leaving Delhi, felt it necessary to replenish his treasury. He had expected Govindpant Bundela to cut off Abdally’s supplies and harass his rear and keep raiding and unsettling the provinces of Suja and the Rohillas. Govindpant disastrously failed in accomplishing any of his allotted tasks. Failing to receive any substantial monetary help from Bundela, Bhau looked round for some other source of replenishing his treasury which was to him the real sinews of war. His attention was drawn towards the rich silver ceiling of the Imperial seat worth some dozens of lakhs of rupees. He ordered that it be hammered out and sent to the mint. The slavish and the superstitions croaked hoarsely; it is said that even the Jat got displeased, thinking it was a sacrilege to thus insult the imperial seat of the mighty Moguls whom God had willed to enthrone as the Emperors of India.+++(5)+++ If so, the Jat ought to have remembered that if every accomplished fact, not excepting even a successful usurpation, betokened the will of Providence and was, therefore, sacred and divine, then surely the throne that Shivaji had raised at Raigad and which rested, not on any aggression or fanatical tyranny, but on the sacred right of self-defence and freedom and national will to lead an independent life, was also an accomplished fact and therefore divine. But when Aurangzeb came to the Deccan, carrying fire and sword and all the forces of fanaticism and aggression to crush the national life of the Hindus and throttle thus the young Hindu state, did he hesitate to hammer to pieces the throne of Shivaji ? Then, why should they now care a two-pence for the Imperial seat of the Moguls which, to them and to all Hindus, including the Jat himself, meant but an emblem and a source of Satanic power— was bathed in the blood of thousands of Hindu martyrs, was built on the ruins of their temples and homes and hearths: and whose very existence was their national and political death ? Aurangzeb raised his iron hand to hammer the Imperial seat of Hindudom to pieces: Time and Nemesis and the guardian angel of Hindustan snatched the hammer from his hand—and behold ! To-day his own Imperial seat lay smashed under it.
Paying out the arrears to his soldiers, Bhau advanced towards Kunjpura. Shinde and Holkar and Vithal Shivdeo led the front. The Pathans fought as brave men do. The fort and the town were famous for their natural strength. But when the Marathas brought their excellent guns to bear on it, backed up by the valiant forces of Shindia and other Maratha generals, the Moslems could not hold out against them long. As soon as some breaches were effected in Moslem defences Damaji Gaikwad ordered his division to rush them and at a formidable shout of Har! Har! his soldiers jumped along with their horses headlong through them. A bloody battle ensued. Thousands of Pathans were put to the sword. The fort was taken, the camp of the Moslem was looted and hundreds of their soldiers got captured. Their very General, Samadkhan, fell into the hands of the Marathas. He was captured once before by Raghunath Rao in his last campaign but was ransomed and spared. He persisted in his deathless opposition to the Marathas and now again fell into their hands.
Bhau, when his battle was well nigh won, was standing issuing some directions to Holkar and Shindia and admiring the valour of the Hindu forces who finished that work in three days which the enemy expected to cost them as many weeks, if not months. Just then two important prisoners of war were brought, mounted on elephants, into his presence. The first was Samadkhan, the General of the Pathans who commanded Kunjpura; and the second ?— He was Kutub Shab, the religious preceptor of Nazib, one of the most active leaders of the Pathani plot and the man who had kicked the valiant Dattaji while dying and heaped dastardly insults on him as a Kafir.
The sight of Kutub Shah inflamed the Maratha blood. The vengeful memory of Dattaji hovered over the scene. ‘Are you the man who kicked our dying Dattaji as a Kafir ?’ ‘Yes;’ replied Kutub Shah. ‘It is considered pious in our religion to kill an idolator and to treat him contemptuously as a Kafir.’+++(5)+++ ‘Die then as a dog;’ retorted Bhau. The soldiers carried the culprit a little aside and beheaded him. Dattaji had been avenged, Samadkhan too, shared the same fate.
The family of Nazibkhan, too, with his son-in-law and other members, fell captives in the hands of the Marathas. But, they were not dealt with so severely as Kutub Shah was. In fact, had those, who were caught fighting, been dealt with thus. Abdally at any rate had no moral right to question the humanity of such a step. For he and his allied Moslem princes were guilty of such barbarous atrocities as to cut the noses of all those Marathas who fell in the battles in the Punjab+++(5)+++ and at Badan and other places and cutting their heads off heap up that ghastly pile as a trophy of war in front of his royal tent.+++(5)+++ Those savage methods could have been imitated by the Marathas too, but all along they refrained from doing so nor did they distinguish themselves in razing the mosques or burning the Korans or committing sacrileges at the sacred places, as Abdallys and Aurangazebs and Nadirs and Muhammadans did on principle.
The fall of Kunjpura was another tremendous blow to Abdally s prestige. The Marathas had been inflicted a crushing defeat on his forces, some 1,00000 strong, and were celebrating the festival of Vijayadashmi, or the day of victory, with great ‘eclat’ and military pomp almost under his eyes. An able General that he was, he knew that, unless he immediately risked much and distinguished himself by some act of great daring, his cause was lost. Promptly he decided to try the ford at Bagpat and at any cost cross and Jumna and cut the Maratha forces at Kunjpura from their base at Delhi.
He succeeded in doing it and thrust his powerful army numbering hundred thousand strong like a wedge between the Marathas and their line communication with Delhi. He had secured by this one more advantage to himself that proved in the long run more profitable to him than all his martial strength. It was that, while the Marathas were cut off from their base, his line of communication with the Rohillas and Suja’s territory remained intact. But even this he owed, not so much to his move, as to the failure of Govindpant to cut off his supplies as directed by Bhau. Abdally found the Marathas fully prepared to face him. No sooner had he succeeded in crossing the Jumna at Bagpat than Bhau advanced to meet him on the famous field of Kurukshetra and encamped at Panipat. The Marathas felt confident that they would crush Abdally on his ground, if but Gonvidpant and Gopal Ganesh would do their task well and cut off supplies and harass his rear. But that work Govindpant miserably failed to do. Pressing commands, threats,— Bhau had recourse to all: but Govindpant would not exert himself even as much as he could have done. The Jat had already left the Maratha camp and kept watching the game at a safe distance from his capital at Bharatpur. Still be it noted to his credit that he at times sent some supplies to the Marathas. But the Rajputs would not do even that.+++(5)+++ None of them dared to oppose the Marathas, but many of them wished that they were utterly crushed. How far this suicidal hope of these Hindu princes was fulfilled, the future history will show. So although both parties were trying hard to cut each other’s line of communication and starve out the adversary and then come to blows; yet, as days passed, it was discovered that starvation vexed the Marathas far more than it did Abdally.
At last on the 22nd of November Jankoji Shindia marched out of his camp and attacked the Moslem forces. The battle raged furiously all along the line. Unable to hold out longer against the splendid valour of the youthful Maratha General and his veterans, the Moslems fell back by the evening and were beaten and hotly pursued to their camp. Darkness alone saved them that day from a general defeat. The Marathas received their warriors back with victorious salutes. To remove the demoralised effect that this defeat had on the minds of his people, Abdally, a fortnight later, ordered his chosen divisions to march at dusk and attack the centre of the Maratha position, as soon as night came, under the cover of darkness. But as they advanced they were surprised to find that Balwant Rao Mehendale had forstalled them and was marching with 20,000 picked troops to meet them in the field. Immediately the Pathans opened their batteries on the Marathas. As these had not come out with their battery they began to suffer much. Soon it seemed as if the Marathas would waver. But lightning-like their General galloped forth, exhorting his men not to stain the honour of their Flag, rallied them round and, flourishing his sword formidably aloft, ordered a general assault. The Marathas fell on their foes at a gallop, silenced their batteries and came to a deaths, grip—formost amongst them being Balwant Rao Mehendale, their valiant General. In the bloody struggle that ensued a bullet struck the General and he fell dead on the field. The Moslems, seeing this, pounced upon him to cut his head off and carry it in triumph: but Nimbalkar threw himself between their swords and the General’s corpse and receiving ghastly cuts on him covered his body till the Marathas rescued it from the foe. By this time thousands of Pathans were cut down and the Moslem found it difficult to hold on any longer. So they first wavered and, them badly beaten turned their backs and made for their camp, leaving thousands of their comrades dead on the field in front of the Maratha centre. The Marathas had won a great battle. But they had lost a great General. They lovingly bore his corpse to their camp and the military honours of victor were accorded to his memory. Bhau bewailed the loss more than any one, and personally attended the funeral. The wife of the hero, no less heroic than her husband, determined, in spite of all persuasions that Bhau himself could employ, to mount his funeral pile and immolate herself on it.+++(5)+++ The whole army came out to pay their last loving respects to their heroic dead. Tens of thousands of souls stood reverently round the pile saluting the distinguished dead and the constancy of the Maratha girl that sat wrapped in flames fondling the head of her dead lover securely resting on her lap.
Thus Abdally gave two battles and in both of them he was worsted. But this did not enable the Marathas to solve the question of starvation. Doubtless Govindpant had, by this time, begun to stir himself and cut off the food supplies of Abdally; but them, it was too late now. Moreover, that too did not last long. For Attaikhan, with 10,000 Pathans, attacked Govindpant under false colours. The Marathas seeing the colours of Holkar, took the advancing Pathans to be friends till they actually began to cut thsm down.+++(4)+++ At last Govindpant, too, was cut down and lost that life, which, had he risked it four months earlier, when Bhau commanded him to do so, would have in all probabilities saved his nation as well as himself from a great catastrophe. The Pathans cut off Govindpant’s head and Abdally was humane enough to send it to Bhau with a number of bragging lines. Still from a military point of view there was every chance of crushing Abdally yet; for, in spite of all his watch and ward, information as to the fix the Marathas were in reached the Deccan; and Balaji with another powerful army, some 50,000 strong, was marching to the help of his people. If the Marathas could hold out a month longer at Panipat, Abdally would simply get smashed between the two forces. But what to do with starvation?
Hundreds of beasts of burden and even horses daily died for want of fodder. The rotting stink grew into a menace to the health of the army, as dangerous as starvation. The only alternative was a premature fight. The spirited soldiery daily crowded Bhau’s tent and movingly prayed that they might rather he allowed to face death in the battlefield than keep rotting and starving out. But was there not yet another alternative to starvation, namely, unconditional surrender of the Hindu cause that generations of their forefathers had lived for, worked and died for? Would they do that and acknowledge Abdally as the Emperor of India and surrender their national independence? No: by no means. Not a Maratha would vote for that: they would rather brave fearful odds, distressed and starved out though they were, and facing the foe fight in such a wise that even if they be not able to gain success for themselves they would yet render the success of their foe utterly futile to him. Amongst men of this temper stood Bhau like pyramid of strength and unconquerable courage, dauntlessly determined not to give in, not to do anything derogatory to the national honour of his people. But if the worst came to the worst to win—if not a success—yet at least such a defeat as would be greater source of constant inspiration and pride and national glory to generations of his people yet unborn than many a success could ever be.
A military council of urgency was summoned, and it was decided to move fully prepared for a battle and march forth to Delhi and, if opposed, to attack Abdally, cut his ranks and fight their way out. That was unnecessary. Abdally was not the man to let them pass.
Thousands upon thousands of warriors, the forces of the ‘worshippers of Hari’ gathered round the great Jaripatka, the golden geruwa+++(??)+++ standard of their nation. Soon Bhau, their commander-in-chief, rose to announce the decision their leaders had arrived at, as to their future move. As soon as it was told that they had decided to give a decisive battle to the foe, the fast armed concourse burst out in a tremendous shout of approval. The plan of action was explained. Then the great leader made a stirring appeal to his men, pointing to the great national standard under whose folds they stood and which with mute eloquence traced its far-famed history: how Ramdas handed it over to Shivaji as a constant reminder of a great mission of ‘Swadharma Rajya’ of Hindu-pad-padashahi: how their fathers, how their immortal dead, carried it from triumph to triumph and brought all Hindustan from Attock to Arcot and further to all the seas under its fold: how the foes of Hindudom bowed low or fell worsted as it marched forth. Would they now surrender it or bend it low or die fighting in defence of the cause it represented? A hundred thousand warriors burst into Har, Har, Mahadeva ! and flourishing their swords swore allegiance to the national colours and to the great cause they represented and to their Commander who had led them from victory to victory.+++(4)+++
As the morning of the 14th January rose, it found the Marathas marching out of their camp in full battle array. Bhau and Vishwasrao led the centre. On their right side stood Jankoji and Malharrao Holkar at the head of their forces. Their left was led by Damaji Gaikwad, Yeshwantrao Power, Antaji Mankeshwar Vithal Shivdev, and Samsher Bahadar. They had posted their excellent artillery in front of them all under the command of Ibrahimkhan Gardi, a brave officer who, though a Muhammadan remained faithful to his masters even unto death. Thus formidably arrayed the Marathas left their camp. Hundreds of war drums, trenchant trumpets and battle horns suddenly sounded the march.
As soon as Abdally learnt that the Marathas were marching forth, he, too, came out to meet them. His centre was led by Shahanawaj Khan, his Vazir. On the right were the Rohillas and on his left stood Nazibkhan and Suja. He, too, had posted his batteries in front of his line.
Soon they met. The guns began their gory work, the march of those vast armies raised huge columns of dust and the smoke of the batteries blackened the sky. The Sun lay covered till long after it rose. When the opponents clearly discerned each other, Yeshwantrao Powar and Vithal Shivdev gave the first attack. The fight thickened. The Marathas, at a gallop, forced the Rohillas to fall back, and cut down not less than 8,000 of their men. Under the heavy blow the right of the foe reeled and fell back. The central position of the Moslems, Bahu and the gallant young Vishwasrao attacked so vigorously that the armies met in a literal death-grip. The Pathans were not enemies to be despised. On the other hand, the Marathas, too, led by a man like Bhau and their young prince Vishwasrao, were not likely to lose their ground. After a bloody struggle lasting for an hour, Bhau and Vishwasrao broke the iron front of the Pathans led by their Vazir himself. Thousands of them lay slain on the battlefield. The son of the Vazir was cut down and himself unhorsed. The centre of the Moslems fell back, Bhau and Vishwas marched forth, dislodging their foes from position to position. Seeing this, Nzibkhan hastened to the rescue of the Vazir. But following him holly came the youthful Jankoji, too, at the head of his veteran soldiers to strengthen Bhau’s position. The battle grew fierce as never before. All along the line set, epic duels began. Abdally saw clearly that his right and left and centre—his whole army— had fallen back and were on the point of getting broken. Soon his men took to flight. But even then he stood undaunted. He ordered his own troops to cut down those who left his ranks and took to flight.+++(4)+++ The battle had begun at about 8 o’clock in the morning. Since then the formidable struggle was relentlessly going on. It was now nearly 2 o’clock in the afternoon. But the soldiers know no rest or respite. Rivers of blood literally swamped the field. The fearful cries and groans of the wounded and the dying, rose and mixed with furious sounds of war drums and trumpets and guns and the war-cries of the brave in a bloody harmony.
It was past two in the afternoon. The Maratha valour and dogged resistance told at last seriously on their Moslem foes. Even Abdally, a veteran General that he was, grew anxious and thought of leaving the field and crossing over to the other side of the Jumna. But he had most wisely left a reserved force of some 10,000 soldiers at hand. Detecting that this, if ever, was the psychological moment to throw them in the balance, he ordered them to face Bhau himself. This fresh force fell with lightning speed on the Marathas.
Still Bhau and his men, exhausted since the morn, wavered not. Still the Marathas bore the fresh rush and iheir first impact with undaunted valour. Once more it was clear that the Marathas had well nigh won the battle. Abdally had played out his last trump.
But just then a bullet, like death’s errand, came whizzing by. It struck the heroic prince of the Marathas, and Vishwasrao fell, wounded in the howda. The gallant youth, so handsome and so brave, the hope of a nation, lay mortally wounded in his howda. The news came to Bhau who was fighting at the head of his soldiers, enthusing, guiding, smiting and sustaining the most heroic struggle the world had ever seen. The news came on Bhau like a bolt from the blue. The Commander hastened towards his beloved nephew and saw him fallen mortally wounded, rolling in his blood in his princely howda. The admantine heart of the victor of Udgir broke down for a while, and tears rolled down his cheeks. His voice chocked with emotion. ‘Vishwas! Vishwas !’ he called out sobbing. The dying youth opened his princely eyes and in heroic accents replied: ‘Dear uncle, why tarry with me now? The battle may go against us while its Commander is away.’ Even death’s agony could not make that gallant young prince of Maharashtra forget his duty.+++(5)+++ His foremost thought was still of the battle, and his anxiety to win it even if after his death. His words roused the warrior once more and Bhau came to himself. ‘What matters it?’ He exclaimed ’I will crush the foe myself.’ Saying so, he galloped fourth, rallying once more his mighty host. The truest and the bravest were still contesting the field and its fortune was still with Marathas.
But the news of the death of Vishwasrao spread like wildfire amongst the Maratha forces and told disastrously up^ their already over-taxed nerves. Just then another mishap happened. A couple of thousands of Pathans had, a month two ago, deserted Abdally and were employed by Bhau in the army. In order to distinguish them in the battle from the enemy they were made to wear the strip of the Maratha Gem*, colours on their head. They, mostly out of preconcerted intrigue, suddenly threw away their Maratha colours and spreading, false alarm and the rumour of Vishwasrao’s death, rushed to the rear where the camp followers stood and straightway began to loot and kill.+++(5)+++ The sight of these Pathans at the rear unsettle the minds of the Marathas and those who fought at the fa??? took it to be success of a flank attack of the enemy and thinkig that the day was lost, broke and fled.
The foe could hardly believe the sight. He had already thought himself well nigh vanquished. The Marathas had woe on the right and the left and in the centre as well. While he was by, taking strictest steps and cutting down his own flying soldiers and thus alone sustaining his lines from breaking into a general rout, to his sudden delight, he saw the Mratha rear somehow or other panic—struck and taking to flight. Before they knew why, the forces of Abdally attacked the panic- stricken lined the Marathas. This was the last straw that broke the bad of the Maratha resistance. On their right the battle ceased and became a rout.
But still the battle raged furious where Bhau and his chosen few stood at bay, defending their national standard unto death ‘Fight! Kill! Slay!’ Smiting and shouting out to his men, Bhau grew hoarse. When he could no longer speak out his fury be nodded encouragement and exhortation as he galloped forth into the very jaws of death. Mukund Shinde, seeing him desperately ventured to hold his horse awhile by the rein and humbly pressed: ‘ Commander, thine had been a superhuman valour: our mean have done all that heroes humanly could do. But now Un to retire!’ ‘What? Retire?’ Exclaimed bhau. ‘General, not that Vishwas is dead and the flower of our army fallen on the field ? General after General I called out by name and at my bidding fell fighting against the foes. How can I now leave the field and survive to show my face to Nanasaheb and my nation? Smite, smite: smite the foes unto death: this is my last command!’
Mukund Shinde saluted his Commander and, in obedience to his last order, jumped down from his horse, raised his sword with a Har, liar, Mahadcva, flung himself headlong in the midst of the foes, The youthful Jankoji, Yeshvant Rao Powar, hero of the hero did the same: and Bhau? He too, as if possessed by the spirit of war, rushed headlong, got inextricably lost in tho thickest of the battle, true to his words, smiting in defence of the national cause, ‘even unto death.’
This was the last news that even reached the world about the valiant Commander-in-chief of the Hindu forces at Panipat— that he redeemed, by the spiritual grandeur of his valour and dutiful death, the material loss that his nation suffered at Panipat.