Later Mughals v1.c9.s36.1

v1.c9.s36.1

At last the fateful morning dawned of the 9th Rabi II. 1131 H. (28th February, 1719). Only an hour or an hour-anda-half after daybreak, a great disturbance arose in the city. Muhammad Amin Khan Chin Bahadur, and Zakariya Khan (son of Abdus-samad Khan), at the desire apparently of Husain Ali Khan, were on their way at the head of their Mughals to attend the Sayyid's darbar.* As the crowd of Mahrattas in the streets and lanes near the fort impeded their progress, the Mughals began to push them forcibly on one side, and open a route for the two Nawabs and their retinue. Having in the Dakhin felt for many a year the weight of their right arm, the Mahrattas as soon as they saw their Mughals' faces, fled like a flock of sheep before a pack of wolves. So overcome with fear were they, that with no man pursuing, they allowed the bazar idlers—butchers, washermen, and scavengers—to relieve them of their horses and spears. Things came to such a pass that the Bhatiyarins, or women attendants belonging to the public sarai in Mughalpura, seized each the bridle reins of some five of these Rawat† horsemen, and by hitting them with sticks or throwing bricks at them, unhorsed them in spite of their lances, stripped them, and killed them. In their panic the men lifted neither hand nor foot to defend themselves, but crept like mice into any doorway or passage that they could find. They were killed as if they were dogs or cats. It was enough for a shopkeeper to stand up, and with a sign or a frown to demand the surrender of their arms. Calling out, *Are bap! Are bap!* and throwing away their straight Dakhini swords [Dhup] and their shields, they stood on one leg with a straw between their lips, and besought mercy, saying *Nako! Nako!* ‡ Two or three leaders of repute lost their lives, among them the chief Santa, who commanded some five or six thousand horsemen. From the gate of the fort to the entrance of the hunting preserve, and the market (*mandavi*) and the Takiya of Majnun Shah, a distance of three or four *kos*, bodies were to be seen in every direction. The slain included many men who, from the darkness of their complexion, had been mistaken for Mahrattas. All the *aftabgir*, a kind of standard which the Mahrattas carry as a mark of honour, one to every fifteen or twenty horsemen, had disappeared.* The lining of their saddles was ripped open, the plundered gold and jewels hidden there were taken, and the bags of coin collected from villages in Rajah Jai Singh's country, were extracted from their waistcloths. It was estimated that 1,500 to 2,000 Mahrattas lost their lives on that day.† This, the first armed Mahratta appearance at Dihli, where in forty years' time they were to be lords and masters, was not of happy augury. They were not accustomed to street fighting and were, no doubt, overtaken by irresistible panic.‡ Khafi Khan draws the moral that this disgraceful rout was a special interposition of Providence. For, if it had not happened, would they not, for ages to come, have boasted that they had gone to Dihli, the imperial capital, and there deposed and imprisoned the Emperor of Hindustan? If Khafi Khan, poor man, had lived a little longer, he would have seen events that turned such a boast into no more than the sober truth!