The brilliant acts he achieved during that period live in every valley; they are enshrined in the heart of every true Rajput, and many are recorded in the annals of the conquerors. To recount them all, or relate the hardships he sustained, would be to pen what they would pronounce a romance who had not traversed the country where tradition is yet eloquent with his exploits, or conversed with the descendants of his chiefs, who cherish a recollection of the deeds of their forefathers, and melt, as they recite them, into manly tears.[[3]]

Partap was nobly supported; and though wealth and fortune tempted the fidelity of his chiefs, not one was found base enough to abandon him. The sons of Jaimall shed their blood in his cause, along with the successors of Patta—the house of Salumbar redoubled the claims of Chonda to fidelity; and these five lustres of adversity are the brightest in the chequered page of the history of Mewar. Nay, some chiefs, attracted by the very desperation of his fortunes, pressed to his standard, to combat and die with Partap. Amongst these was the Delwara chief, whose devotion gained him the prince’s ‘right hand.’

The Vow of Rāna Partāp Singh.

Often was Partap heard to exclaim, “Had Udai Singh never been, or none intervened between him and Sanga Rana, no Turk should ever have given laws to Rajasthan.” Hindu society had assumed a new form within the century preceding: the wrecks of dominion from the Jumna and Ganges had been silently growing into importance; and Amber and Marwar had attained such power, that the latter single-handed coped with the imperial Sher Shah; while numerous minor chieftainships were attaining shape and strength on both sides the Chambal. A prince of commanding genius alone was wanting, to snatch the sceptre of dominion from the Islamite. Such a leader they found in Sanga, who possessed every quality which extorts spontaneous obedience, and the superiority of whose birth, as well as dignity, were admitted without cavil, from the Himalaya to Rameswaram.[[6]] These States had powerful motives to obey such a leader, in the absence of whom their ancient patrimony was lost; and such they would have found renewed in Sanga’s grandson, Partap, had Udai Singh not existed, or had a less gifted sovereign than Akbar been his contemporary.

With the aid of some chiefs of judgment and experience, Partap remodelled his government, adapting it to the exigencies of the times and to his slender resources. New grants were issued, with regulations defining the service required. Kumbhalmer, now the seat of government, was strengthened, as well as Gogunda and other mountain fortresses; and, being unable to keep the field in the plains [334] of Mewar, he followed the system of his ancestors, and commanded his subjects, on pain of death, to retire into the mountains. During the protracted contest, the fertile tracts watered by the Banas and the Berach, from the Aravalli chain west to the eastern tableland, were be chiragh, ‘without a lamp.’

Many tales are related of the unrelenting severity with which Partap enforced obedience to this stern policy. Frequently, with a few horse, he issued forth to see that his commands were obeyed. The silence of the desert prevailed in the plains; grass had usurped the place of the waving corn; the highways were choked with the thorny babul,[[7]] and beasts of prey made their abode in the habitations of his subjects. In the midst of this desolation, a single goatherd, trusting to elude observation, disobeyed his prince’s injunction, and pastured his flock in the luxuriant meadows of Untala, on the banks of the Banas. After a few questions, he was killed and hung up in terrorem. By such patriotic severity Partap rendered ‘the garden of Rajasthan’ of no value to the conqueror, and the commerce already established between the Mogul court and Europe, conveyed through Mewar from Surat and other ports, was intercepted and plundered.

Akbar attacks Rāna Partāp Singh, A.D. 1576.

Rāna Partāp Singh deserted by Rājput Princes.

Rāja Mān Singh and Rāna Partāp Singh.

Raja Man was returning from the conquest of Sholapur to Hindustan when he invited himself to an interview with Partap, then at Kumbhalmer, who advanced to the Udaisagar to receive him. On the mound which embanks this lake a feast was prepared for the prince of Amber. The board was spread, the Raja summoned, and Prince Amra appointed to wait upon him; but no Rana appeared, for whose absence apologies alleging headache were urged by his son, with the request [337] that Raja Man would waive all ceremony, receive his welcome, and commence. The prince, in a tone at once dignified and respectful, replied: "Tell the Rana I can divine the cause of his headache; but the error is irremediable, and if he refuses to put a plate (kansa) before me, who will?" Further subterfuge was useless. The Rana expressed his regret; but added, that “he could not eat with a Rajput who gave his sister to a Turk, and who probably ate with him.” Raja Man was unwise to have risked this disgrace: and if the invitation went from Partap, the insult was ungenerous as well as impolitic; but of this he is acquitted. Raja Man left the feast untouched, save the few grains of rice he offered to Anndeva,[[15]] which he placed in his turban, observing as he withdrew: “It was for the preservation of your honour that we sacrificed our own, and gave our sisters and our daughters to the Turk; but abide in peril, if such be your resolve, for this country shall not hold you”; and mounting his horse he turned to the Rana, who appeared at this abrupt termination of his visit, “If I do not humble your pride, my name is not Man”: to which Partap replied, “he should always be happy to meet him”; while some one, in less dignified terms, desired he would not forget to bring his ‘Phupha’ [father’s sister’s husband], Akbar. The ground was deemed impure where the feast was spread: it was broken up and lustrated with the water of the Ganges, and the chiefs who witnessed the humiliation of one they deemed apostate, bathed and changed their vestments, as if polluted by his presence. Every act was reported to the emperor, who was exasperated at the insult thus offered to himself, and who justly dreaded the revival of those prejudices he had hoped were vanquished; and it hastened the first of those sanguinary battles which have immortalised the name of Partap: nor will Haldighat be forgotten while a Sesodia occupies Mewar, or a bard survives to relate the tale.