The spirits of the besieged were so elated by their success and the destruction of the enemy, that they began with extraordinary energy to repair the breaches, which by the next morning they had filled up with a thick wall of mud. This was a secure defence, for the moisture of the material rendered the surface so slippery, that the difficulty of scaling such an impediment was so great as to render the attempt impracticable. This did not dismay the besiegers, who prepared to renew their attempts upon the town with increased activity. Akbar’s was not a mind to be overcome by difficulties; it became more elevated in proportion as impediments multiplied. He gave his orders with that calm earnestness of resolution which showed he would be satisfied with nothing short of complete success. His men evinced the greatest alacrity in their obedience to the orders of their officers, and soon recovered from the effects of their late mischance. The Hindoos were no less assiduous in providing against all possible contingencies; and, in the course of a few days, the works of Chittore were nearly as secure as before the opening of the breaches by the mines.
A few nights after the accident from the explosion of the mine, the Emperor, who had given orders that other works should be constructed, was in the batteries directing the workmen. While there, he observed the governor of Chittore superintending, by torchlight, the repairs of the walls, which were now nearly completed. Seizing a matchlock from one of the attendants, he directed it with so true an aim as to lodge a ball in Jugmul’s forehead. It was easy to perceive that the greatest confusion prevailed upon the ramparts of the besieged city. Persons were seen hurrying to and fro, and the walls were soon crowded with troops and citizens. Akbar, from this moment, saw that the game was in his own hands. The death of their governor he knew would render the garrison despairing and reckless; he consequently prepared for some of those dreadful eruptions so common among Rajpoot soldiers when driven to extremity.
Day had scarcely dawned, when his camp was attacked with a fury which nothing but the better discipline of his soldiers, and great numerical superiority, could have repelled. The Rajpoots, headed by their late governor’s widow, fought with a desperation which, for the moment, bore down all opposition. The widow urged her horse with heedless fury towards Akbar’s tent. An Omrah placing himself before her to oppose her further progress, she buried a short spear in his body, and, continuing her career, reached the royal pavilion. Here she was opposed by the guards, the foremost of whom struck her in the face with his sword; but having speared him, she flung herself from the back of her charger, and, rushing into the tent, sprang towards the couch,—it was empty. With some difficulty she was secured, but not until she had wounded several of the guard, and received a second severe wound in the neck, from which the blood flowed so copiously that she was obliged to relinquish the contest, becoming faint and unable to continue her exertions. By this time her followers had been nearly all cut off, and few returned to the city to bear the lamentable tale of discomfiture.
Akbar entered his tent, and saw the noble woman who had made such a brave effort to avenge her husband’s death fainting upon the ground, reeking with her own blood and that of her foes. He instantly ordered her wound to be dressed, and that she should be carefully attended during the night. He was charmed with her heroism, he reverenced her distress, and determined to offer very advantageous terms on the morrow if the garrison would capitulate. The obstinacy of the besieged had won his admiration, and he was heard to say to a confidential officer that with such troops he would undertake to conquer the world.
Next morning the captive widow rose from her couch, and demanded to see the Emperor. She was immediately brought before him.
“Sovereign of the Moguls,” she said, undauntedly, “I have thrice sought your life. I have freely braved your vengeance. I am prepared for the infliction which I have provoked, and my failure deserves. What death am I to die?”
“Allah forbid, lady, that I should punish any one for trying to take away the life of a foe in honourable warfare. It is but natural that you should seek to accomplish the death of him who has destroyed your husband, not from feelings of enmity, for I admired his bravery and esteemed his patriotism, but as a melancholy means to a glorious end. His death is one of those sad contingencies inseparable from a state of active hostility. I have now to propose to you terms for the capitulation of Chittore.”
“If I have influence to decide upon a proposal that involves the dishonour of my countrymen, I will bid them resist till there shall no longer remain among them an arm to strike.”
“But, lady, the terms I intend to offer will be alike honourable to you and the inhabitants of yonder fortress.”
“No terms from the sovereign of the Moguls can be honourable to those whom he has so irreparably wronged. I will listen to no accommodation short of disbanding your army, and leaving the city of Chittore to enjoy that peace which you have wantonly interrupted. I am now in your power. I seek not to stay your vengeance. Wreak it upon me, with the flush and glow of a tyrant’s satisfaction. I will brave you with my last gasp of life. I will defy you with my expiring breath; but never could I listen to terms from the man who has profaned the sacred sanctuary of the Hindoos, and cast down upon the threshold of their temples the representatives of their gods.”