Such prodigious and rapid accession of power alarmed the jealousy of Aurungzebe, who was by this time securely seated upon the throne of the Moguls, and seemed resolved to extend his conquests to the farthest possible limits. He therefore sent a large body of troops under an experienced leader to crush the rising influence of the Mahrattas; but the wary conduct of Sevajee, who was prolific in dacoit[43] stratagems, baffled the military skill and defeated the enterprises of the Mogul.
It was to reduce the growing power of this extraordinary man, that the Emperor had marched in person, and was encamped in the neighbourhood of Madura, in order to subdue some refractory Polygars who had disturbed the peace of that district, when his daughter was made captive by Sevajee on her way from the Deccan. So difficult were the various passes of the Ghauts for a regular army to traverse, and so impenetrable the jungles, that the bold Mahratta defied the hostile preparations of Aurungzebe, whose detachments he continually defeated, pouring down upon them like a deluge from the hills, committing prodigious ravages and retreating beyond the reach of pursuit to his mountain-holds.
The fortress to which the Princess Rochinara had been conveyed was situated in one of the most impracticable recesses of the Ghauts. The only approach to it was by a path so narrow that two persons could not proceed abreast, and in many places hollowed out of the living rock. It was reached by a gradual ascent of three miles, the road at various places overhung by vast ledges projecting from the precipice by which it was skirted. There a few resolute men might defend themselves against a host. Besides, this part of the country was so thinly populated, and so seldom visited on account of the asperities which it presented to the traveller, that it remained a sort of terra incognita. Sevajee’s retreats, and among the rest the fortress already mentioned, were known to few or none save his own followers; so that he felt in perfect security against the irruptions of invaders.
The captivity of the princess became daily less and less irksome; all her wishes were complied with, and she finally entertained no further desire to quit a prison where in fact she enjoyed more liberty than in her father’s harem. She had been much struck with the frank countenance of the Mahratta, who used daily to visit her, until at length his visits were looked forward to not only with pleasure, but anxiety.
The princess was young, Sevajee was handsome, and, what is always attractive in the eyes of an Eastern beauty, brave. She quickly felt her heart subdued; the merits of the Mahratta could not escape her woman’s scrutiny, quickened as this soon was by certain tender predilections.
She now frequently challenged the opinions of her women upon Sevajee’s merits, to which they appeared as keenly alive as their mistress, and it was finally no secret throughout the garrison that their chief had obtained a conquest over the affections of the Princess Rochinara.
The royal captive had attracted the admiration of one of Sevajee’s officers, in whose bravery and conduct his chief had great confidence. One day when Sevajee was abroad, this officer ventured to declare himself to the interesting captive. He was rejected with indignation. His passions were roused, and he treated the princess with unmanly violence. She was saved from his brutality by the interference of one of the garrison, who, upon Sevajee’s return, informed him of what had happened. The Mahratta made no reply, but repairing to the princess’s apartment, learnt from her the precise particulars. Summoning the garrison before him, he thus addressed the offender:—
“You have violated the sanctity of a warrior’s home. Arms are placed in our hands to protect, not insult the weak. You must expiate the wrong you have committed. I stand forward as the champion of an insulted woman. You are brave, and know how to defend yourself. There is space within these ramparts to try your prowess against mine. Arm yourself, and let this matter be instantly decided.”
Sevajee took his sword, and the combatants repaired to the summit of the rock. His adversary was much taller and bigger than himself, but far less active and firmly set. He was, however, a hardy, desperate fellow, who had proved his valour in many a rough encounter. He smiled as he stood before his chief, as if the contest were to him a pastime. Both were armed with a short sabre, a shield, and a broad-bladed dagger stuck in their girdles. The shield was small, reaching from the wrist to the elbow of the left hand, rising to a cone, and terminated by a sharp brass boss. It was covered with an untanned hide.
Sevajee commenced the strife by darting upon the offender with the quickness of an eagle’s spring, dashing his shield against that of his opponent, and wounding him with considerable severity on the hip. The man, however, coolly forced backward his indignant chief, and recovering his own guard, advanced upon him with a calm, sullen smile, and struck at his head with a force that would have reached through the skull to the chine, had not the interposing shield caught the blow, and frustrated the intended mischief: it however struck the boss from the buckler, and shattered the frame so completely that Sevajee was obliged to cast it from him, and expose himself unprotected to the attack of his formidable foe. Trusting, however, to his activity, he parried the blows of his adversary, and baffled his advances by springing on one side; the other, exhausted from fatigue and loss of blood, dropped his sword; Sevajee instantly raised his and struck him to the earth. His arm was nearly severed, just below the shoulder, and in this sad state, reeking with gore, he was lowered from the fortress, either to die or make his escape.