The Slave Girl of Agra

Front matter

THE SLAVE GIRL OF AGRA

THE

An Indian Historical Romance

Book 1, Chapter 1

THE SLAVE GIRL OF AGRA

BOOK I

I. THE CHILD IS FATHER OF THE MAN

One evening in 1590—when an English Queen was laying the foundations of a proud Empire in the West, and the great Akbar was building up a rich and prosperous Empire in the East—three Hindu children were playing on the banks of the Ganges. The spot was picturesque and romantic, as it was historic. The broad river, after sweeping eastwards for hundreds of miles, here takes a sharp turn round the Rajmahal Hills and flows to the south. Through this narrow gate the tide of invasion has often rolled from the west into the fertile plains of Bengal, and founders of dynasties have often established themselves at this strategic point. Gaur, Tonda and Rajmahal are poor or deserted towns to-day, but were of old the seats of kings and conquerors, Hindu, Afghan and Mogul. And the wars of the sixteenth century nursed in this locality a race of hardy chiefs and resolute leaders, who joined one side or another in the frequent revolutions which decided the destinies of Bengal.

The children were at play on the sands. Behind them, to the east, lay the rich plains of Malda, waving with green rice, and darkened by a continuous line of those famous mango groves which still produce the finest fruit in the world. Before them swept the imperious river, and beyond it rose the jagged peaks of the Rajmahal Hills. Numberless cargo boats were moored for the night. They carried the rice and sugar and salt, the cotton goods and silk fabrics of Bengal to Northern India, or brought down the cereals of Behar, the brass ware or brocade of Benares, the richer manufactures of the imperial cities of the west. For the Ganges was the great highway of trade in India, and men still living can remember her broad breast covered with thousands of slow-moving but shapely boats sailing up and down the stream. Trade takes a swifter course by rail to-day, and travelling is quicker than in the days of boats and bullock carts. But life was perhaps more restful then, and men and women had more of repose in their hereditary crafts—more of the simple enjoyments of an Eastern life in their quiet villages.

In the dim light of the stars two boys were building houses of earth and sand and sticks on the river bank, and a slim, dark-eyed girl stood by, observant and silent. Night follows quickly on the heels of day in India, and within an hour after a brilliant sunset the shades of evening had closed. The neighbouring town of Birnagar was almost invisible, except as a dark line of mango groves, and a few lamps glimmered under the trees. The riverside formed a busier scene; boatmen sang after the labours of the day, and fire was lighted on every boat for the evening meal.

The two boys were of the same age, about fifteen, but were very different in appearance and temperament. Sirish was a plain, strong, robust lad, and had almost attained the strength of youth; and like many strong lads he was naturally of a pacific temperament. Noren had the bright complexion, the refined features, and the delicate form and face which, in India, often indicates high birth and noble ancestry. Clusters of dark hair fell on Noren’s fair forehead, and his dark eyes sparkled with joy as he ran about the sands. And yet he was easily provoked, and when the blue veins showed themselves on his forehead, his stronger companion did not care to face the rash stripling.

Born without the advantages of birth or wealth, Sirish was endowed with good sense, patience, and a calm perseverance which makes for success in life. Noren, on the other hand, was heir to ample possessions and to a name which was honoured in all the country side. He was gifted, too, with a quick intelligence which, like personal beauty, often a quick descends from parent to son; but he lacked those patient virtues without which more brilliant gifts lead often to failure—sometimes to misery.

And certainly Noren met with failure that evening, when he was building his house of sand under the light of the stars. Generally he was both ingenious and skilful, but this evening he was nervous under the watchful eyes of the little girl who stood by, observant and silent. Hemlata was a sweet girl of twelve, all gentleness and tenderness. Noren knew her from childhood, and loved her with all the impulsive ardour of a child’s love. He poured into her sympathetic ears all the secret sorrows of an orphan, and recounted to her all his bidden ambitions. She, tender soul, scarcely understood what the passionate boy felt and suffered and hoped, but she could feel for him as no one else did, and soothed him as no one else could. Thus they grew up, the little boy and the little girl, attached to each other by a secret sympathy, cherished all the more keenly because bidden from the world.

Sirish had come between them later, and to him the little girl was a gentle friend and playmate. Sirish asked for nothing more. Even in his wildest fancy he scarcely aspired to win this beauteous girl, the only child of a father who was now all-powerful in the land. Yet his calm, meditative eyes indicated deep thought and a resolution which few could guess. If he too had his secret ambitions they never found utterance.

To-night Sirish was pleased to see Hemlata watching his work, and went on, attentive and patient. Noren was nervous and restless, and often looked at Sirish and Hemlata with ill-concealed jealousy. Half an hour passed by; Sirish’s work was complete, and Hemlata clapped her little hands in joy to see the house so well done. Her merry laughter stung Noren; his hands shook, and his house of sand fell.

“Why, Noren, thou hast done nothing this evening. Where is thy boasted skill?" asked Sirish, as he came arm-in-arm with the girl to the place where Noren stood silent and morose.

"I want to do nothing this evening," said Noren, petulantly, kicking away the remains of his house.

"Then why didst thou ask me to come to the riverside, and why didst thou keep this girl here so long? Her father will be inquiring for her by this time, I guess."

"I will know what reply to make to her father if he asks me—to thee I will make none."

"Why, thou art as rude, Noren, as thou art unskilful. Thou hast lost thy house and thy temper."

"If I have lost my sand house, I have a better house to live in. There are people who have no house to call their own."

A wanton insult this to Sirish, who was then living as a dependant on Hemlata's father. Sirish winced but kept his temper, and he replied to Noren with the respect due to his rank.

"I know my position, Noren, and am not ashamed of it. I wish thou wouldst know thine and be worthy of thy grandfather's house."

"Good of thee to think of my grandfather's house, Sirish; though even now, methinks, there are those once quailed who under his eyes but would gladly purloin the estate which he left to me. Maybe my playmate knows something of these schemes!"

"I will leave thee to thy humour, Noren," calmly replied Sirish. "I will take Hemlata home, as her father must be getting anxious for her."

"And who made thee Hemlata's guardian, Sirish, and how long hast thou been her protector?" asked Noren, fiercely, as he saw the girl clinging closer to Sirish.

"I am no guardian of hers, Noren, but would fain protect her from a madman like thee!"

"Stand back!" shouted Noren. "The girl shall go home with me, as she came to the riverside to play with me."

"Thou art welcome to take her home, Noren, when thou hast learnt better manners. I will not leave her to-night with an unmannerly lad."

"Stand back, thou low-born man, and make room for one who is worthier to take her side."

The strong frame of Sirish shook under this fresh insult, and he stood and glared at Noren. But he controlled himself and deigned no reply. He put his arm tenderly round the frightened girl and turned homewards.

This was more than Noren could stand. Maddened by the cool contempt of Sirish, he rushed at him and attacked him with all his might. Hemlata shrieked in alarm. Sirish was more than a match for Noren; he held the infuriated boy by the waist, lifted him like a feather, and flung him on the sands, helpless and panting.

Stung with shame at this discomfiture before the eyes of the girl, and covered with sand and earth, Noren picked up a stone and flung it at Sirish. It hit him just over his right eye and made a deep cut. Sirish sat down on the sands and tried to staunch the blood with his cloth. Hemlata was a silent witness. She cast one look of agony and reproach at the misbehaving boy, and her eyes glistened with tears. She then ran to the riverside and moistened her saree, and came back to Sirish to wash away the blood.

Sirish was not seriously hurt, but the blood was still trickling down his face as he slowly arose.

"Come home, Hemlata," he softly said; "it is late, and we must go home." They walked homewards, arm-in-arm, without casting a look on Noren. He stood there, alone and miserable, until the night closed around him. Bitter thoughts came to him as he stood in the darkness. He, the proud heir of an ancient house, had acted like a madman, and forfeited the esteem of her he loved. Sirish, a humble dependant, had forgiven him nobly and had won the sweet Hemlata. Was this a forecast of his life?

Book 1, Chapter 2

The town of Birnagar had witnessed stirring events in the years immediately preceding. Afghan Kings had ruled Bengal in peace for the best part of four centuries, but when Akbar the Great consolidated the Mogul Empire in Northern India, the rule of the Afghans in Bengal was doomed. Akbar himself took the great city of Patna in 1574, and in the succeeding years Bengal was often the scene of hostilities between the brave and conquering Moguls and the defeated but determined Afghans.

Hindu Zemindars ruled their own estates and villages like feudal lords in those days, and in India the nation lives in villages. The Zemindars paid the fixed revenue to the Afghan Rulers, but were supreme in their own estates. They punished crimes, adjudicated cases, and maintained order and peace. They were the patrons of letters and poetry; they encouraged industries and manufactures; and they maintained troops and elephants and boats for the service of the Rulers when needed.

The town of Birnagar, where our story opens, was the seat of an old Hindu House. When Akbar took Patna, and the Mogul troops spread over Bengal, the Zemindar of Birnagar remained true to the last Afghan King, Dayud Khan. Unable to defend his town he fled to the jungles, and Akbar's great generals, Munayim and Todar Mull, stabled their horses and elephants in the deserted halls of Birnagar. Dayud Khan himself made peace with the conquerors by ceding Bengal to Akbar, and retreated to Orissa. It was then that the Zemindar of Birnagar returned his town, paid his homage to Rajah Todar Mull, and owned allegiance to the new masters of Bengal.

But Dayud Khan broke word, reconquered Bengal from the Moguls, and summoned the Zemindar of Birnagar to join him with his troops and retainers. The doughty old man declined. "Tell Dayud Khan," he replied to the messenger, "that he forfeited his kingdom when he failed to protect it, that he surrendered Bengal to the great Akbar by his royal word. It ill becomes a crowned king to go back upon his word; to do so is not the custom of my house. I remain true to the Emperor of Agra."

This defiant message roused the wrath of Dayud Khan, and he sent troops to sack the town and bring the old Zemindar in chains. But the brave old chief had taken precautions. The town was defended by brick walls and rude bastions, and by sharp-pointed stakes. Armed retainers patrolled it day and night and watched the foe from every point of vantage, and bands of Sontal sharpshooters concealed themselves with their bows and arrows in the thick-set hedges, and made a surprise impossible. The grey-headed Zemindar took out his sword from the rusty scabbard, and expressed his determination to defend the town, or to die in the home of his fathers.

How long these rude defences would have saved Birnagar against a regular army one cannot tell; but Dayud Khan had more formidable enemies to face. Raja Todar Mull came down once more to Bengal and, with the new Mogul Governor of the Province, surrounded Dayud at Akmahal. The star of the Afghan Rulers set for ever in the battle which ensued, and Dayud was captured and executed in 1576. Raja Todar Mull honoured the Zemindar of Birnagar with a visit, granted him a new Sanad from the Emperor, and placed in his charge the neighbouring estate of Debipur, whose owner had forfeited it by joining the Afghans. This was the crowning reward of the sturdy old man's faithfulness, and he brought his son and his infant grandchild before the throne of Raja Todar Mull, and swore fealty for himself and for all his successors to the House of Akbar. It was a day of great rejoicing at Birnagar; the citizens shouted the name of Akbar the Great and illuminated the town; and veiled women strewed rice and flowers along the road by which Raja Todar Mull and his brave companions passed on caparisoned elephants.

A few months after the old Zemindar died in the fulness of years, and his son followed him shortly after. The infant grandchild, then scarcely two years old, inherited the vast estates of his grandfather, and that child was Noren.

The death of his grandfather and father left infant Noren without any strong protector, and the difficulties of his position were great, for the deposed Lord of Debipur was by no means a contemptible foe. Birnagar and Debipur had been rival estates for centuries, and the Chiefs of the two estates had stood apart as rivals through many generations. Occasionally they were drawn closer to each other by marriage, but the young bride, as she passed from one House to the other, soon acquired the traditions of her husband's family; and the sons whom she bore were taught from their cradle to regard their mother's relations as foes whom they would have to face in life.

Armed retainers were kept by both Houses, and like the Capulets and Montagues, they seldom met without coming to blows. Engagements, too, in which hundreds of these retainers took a share, sometimes occurred over a disputed market-place or the fishery of a lake or stream; and the victorious party obtained, by large gifts to the Court, due sanction to the possessions it had secured by strength of arm. In spite of this ancient rivalry and not infrequent hostilities, the Chiefs of the two Houses sometimes met in the Royal Court or in great social or religious gatherings, and they vied in acts of courtesy and marks of respect towards each other.

Nobo Kumar, Chief of Debipur, had inherited all the traditional hatred of his family for the rival House of Birnagar. Deep and designing by nature, he had marked with more than wonted jealousy the glory of the rival Chief. People contrasted his dark schemes with the open and chivalrous character of Noren's grandfather, and young Nobo Kumar never met the fine, grey-headed man without feeling humbled at his own insignificance.

When, therefore, the Afghan King, Dayud Khan, summoned the neighbouring Zemindars to make a final stand against the Moguls at Akmahal, and when the Chief of Birnagar defiantly refused the summons, Nobo Kumar thought his chance had come. He eagerly joined Dayud Khan, and sent his own retainers to raze Birnagar to the ground. The victory of Raja Todar Mull at Akmahal ruined his schemes. Nobo Kumar had staked all and lost all, and his own estate was annexed to Birnagar for a time.

But Nobo Kumar never knew what it was to be beaten. Driven from his home and his estate, he waited with silent determination to take a fresh move at the next opportunity, and his faithful friend and minister, Gokul Das, shared his exile.

Gokul Das had tried to dissuade his master from joining Dayud Khan until the contest between the Afghans and the Moguls was decided. The impetuous Nobo Kumar had disregarded the advice, but had time to appreciate its value afterwards. The two remained together in concealment, and waited for the next chance.

The chance came when Raja Todar Mull left Bengal and Noren's father and grandfather were dead. The impetuous Nobo Kumar desired to collect his retainers and to take possession of his old estate of Debipur by sheer force, hoping to obtain royal sanction by gifts. But the astute Gokul Das dissuaded him from this new act of rashness. "Raja Todar Mull is coming to Bengal again," he said. "The Raja has not forgotten the House of Birnagar, and his gauntleted hand will not fail to reach one who hurts the infant heir. We must wait and try other methods. The game is his who waits."

They had not to wait very long. Raja Todar Mull came to Bengal a third time, not against the Afghans who had been crushed, but against Mogul barons who had risen in rebellion against their Emperor. They had carved out large estates for themselves out of conquered Bengal, and, like the feudal barons of Medieval Europe, they defied the royal authority. But Akbar was not a man to be trifled with. With that wisdom and magnanimity which helped him more than his prowess to build and cement an Empire, he made no distinction between his Mohammedan and Hindu subjects. Todar Mull, his Hindu General, had twice conquered Bengal from the Afghans, and Todar Mull was sent with an ample force in 1580 to quiet the rebellious Mogul barons.

The Raja came this time, not as a General, but appointed to the high post of Governor of Bengal. He proceeded as far as Monghyr, while the rebellious Moguls were encamped at Bhagalpur with thirty thousand cavalry. Both places were within easy reach from Debipur; and Nobo Kumar pondered whether he would not join the barons against the Raja who had cruelly deprived him of his ancestral estate.

"No," said Gokul Das, "Raja Todar Mull has few equals in India in skill and prowess, and to oppose him again would be to complete your ruin. We will help the Raja, and will seek his pardon after he has quelled this rebellion."

"And dost thou believe the Raja will pardon a man who joined Dayud Khan only four years ago?"

"The Raja is too high to be vindictive. He will easily forgive a faithful follower of the last Afghan King if he now learns to be faithful to the new Mogul Emperor."

"And deemest thou, Gokul Das, I can bend my knee to the minion of Akbar who has deprived me of my father's estate?"

"Your fathers, Nobo Kumar, served a long line of Afghan Rulers in Bengal. Be true to the traditions of your House, and serve the race whom Providence has destined to be the new Rulers of Bengal."

"I admire thy coolness, most sedate counsellor, but my impulses lead me a different way. I will join the Mogul barons and be revenged on the insolent Raja."

"Do as you think best, Nobo Kumar. I am your faithful servant, and will serve your House as my fathers have done for hundreds of years."

But calmer reflection convinced Nobo Kumar that his minister was right, and he decided to help Raja Todar Mull with all his endless resource.

Raja Todar Mull, with that penetrating wisdom which made him one of the greatest generals and the foremost financier of the age, quelled the rebellious barons without fighting a battle. He won over the Hindu Zemindars of Bengal one by one, and he cut off all supplies from the rebel camp at Bhagalpur. Not one of these Zemindars exerted himself with greater assiduity or with more marked success than Nobo Kumar. He went from estate to estate; he brought over all the neighbouring Hindu Chiefs to the cause of the Emperor; and he stole by night into Monghyr and furnished the Raja with secret information about the movements of the rebels. The success of his endeavours was complete; all Hindu Zemindars stood aloof from the Mogul barons and cut off their supplies; and the famished barons broke up their camp and dispersed all over the country.

The time came for rewarding the services of the faithful servants of the Empire, and Raja Todar Mull reckoned Nobo Kumar one of the foremost among them.

"Name your own reward, Nobo Kumar; you have deserved well of the Empire, and the great Emperor does not forget those who serve him well."

"Pardon for my past offence is the boon I seek, mighty Raja. Pardon for serving the Afghan House which my fathers served for generations."

"I follow you not, Nobo Kumar," responded the Raja. "Faithful service to your old Ruler, until he ceded Bengal to the Emperor, is an act which merits reward and not pardon. I am not aware that the great Emperor has punished any Zemindar for being faithful to their old King."

Nobo Kumar did not know what to answer, but the precious moments were slipping by, and other candidates for reward were waiting. Gokul Das had seen enough of Raja Todar Mull to know how to plead before him. He spoke humbly, but with absolute sincerity and straightforwardness.

"My master bids me say, great Raja, that his offence goes further. When Dayud Khan broke his word of honour and rose against the Emperor again, my master forgot his allegiance to the Emperor, and joined Dayud Khan once more at Akmahal."

The Raja's brow was clouded. "Why, that was treachery," he muttered in his deep voice, "and Dayud Khan lost his head for his treachery."

"So he did, most noble Raja, and my master does not seek to screen his offence. But some allowance the generous Emperor may be inclined to make for the blind and ardent faithfulness of a House which served the Afghan Dynasty for over three hundred years. Be generous, noble Raja, and make that House as zealous and faithful in the service of the Mogul Dynasty."

Raja Todar Mull was silent and thoughtful. Gokul Das saw the impression he had made, and proceeded.

"Birnagar and Debipur both served the Afghan Kings through many generations as rivals in power and rivals in loyalty. Let them once more be rivals in their faithful service to the great Emperor who now rules at Agra, and whose Empire is bounded only by the sea."

Raja Todar Mull raised his eyes and spoke.

"Birnagar? Yes, I remember Birnagar, and the gallant, hoary-headed Chief who was faithful to us when so many forsook us. I have shared his hospitality before, and I wished to convey to him once more the Emperor's approbation of his faithfulness and gallantry."

"He, noble Raja, has passed beyond the sphere of earthly rewards. He died, rich in honours and in fame, shortly after you, mighty Governor, left his town. His infant grandson is now the Lord of Birnagar—and of Debipur also, for a time."

A pause ensued. The Raja reflected and none ventured to break the silence. Nobo Kumar felt that his fate and fortunes depended on the Raja's decision, but dared not speak.

At last Todar Mull spoke his decision.

"Nobo Kumar, your servant has pleaded your cause well, but your recent services speak more eloquently, and shall not go unrewarded. The august Emperor seeks not to inquire too minutely into the reasons of your defection four years ago; His Majesty pardons your past error and confides in your faithfulness in the future. It consists not with the dignity of the Imperial Throne to take away so soon from the minor heir of Birnagar the gift which was temporarily made to his grandsire; years must expire till your estate can be restored to you. Prove your faithfulness to the Empire during these years. You will, by my orders, be appointed Diwan of Birnagar and Debipur, and guardian of the minor heir—for he needs a proper guardian and an able manager. When he attains his majority Debipur shall be separated from Birnagar and restored to you if you faithfully discharge this trust. The Emperor does not wish to see the extinction of an old territorial House like yours; be true to your work, and win back the estate of your fathers. Beware of unfaithfulness; Todar Mull has a long memory for the services of his friends, and a long arm to reach his foes."

The solemn words resounded in the Council Chamber, and the warning given struck home. Nobo Kumar winced; and the idea of serving as a Diwan and manager in the house of his ancient and hereditary rival was gall and wormwood to him. His lips moved as if he would speak again after the Royal order was passed, but faithful Gokul Das saved his master. A Royal Pardon for past rebellion rescued his master from a life of exile; the post of Diwan made him virtual master of Birnagar and Debipur for many years to come; the pledged restoration of Debipur assured the future of his House. These thoughts passed quickly through the fertile brain of Gokul Das, and he bowed low to Raja Todar Mull, and spoke:

"My master is overwhelmed and rendered speechless by your generosity, noble Raja; such generosity, worthy of the august Emperor of India, comes with added grace from your noble hands. My master accepts the gift, far beyond his deserts, with gratitude and shall pay it with life-long faithfulness. Live long, mighty Raja, and you shall see the House of Birnagar and the restored House of Debipur rivalling each other in their service to the Mogul House, as they were rivals under Afghan Kings in the past."

Nobo Kumar came to Birnagar as Diwan with his wife and infant Hemlata. The child was of exceeding beauty; and Noren and Hemlata grew up as children, attached to each other, under the watchful eyes of Nobo Kumar and his noble and virtuous spouse. With Nobo Kumar came also his faithful friend, Gokul Das, still working and scheming for the house of Debipur as his fathers had done.

Ten years had passed since. Raja Man Singh, another Hindu General of Emperor Akbar, was now the Governor of Bengal. He had fixed on Akmahal as the seat of his Government, and changed its name to Rajmahal or the Royal Abode. And a few miles from Rajmahal lay the peaceful town of Birnagar, where Noren and Hemlata lived and played and loved. But within these ten years a stranger, Sirish, had come between them.

Book 1, Chapter 3

III. A FAIR COUNSELLOR

Ten years of Nobo Kumar's wise and careful management had brought the estates of Birnagar and Debipur into order. Villages which had been deserted during the wars of the Moguls and the Afghans were repopulated. Husbandmen and labourers rebuilt their huts on the old homesteads which they had left in panic. Fields overgrown with weeds and jungle were brought under the plough. Village boys picked up bullets and broken muskets from the fields, and their fathers told them stories of the marches and counter-marches of armies they had witnessed. Old soldiers who had followed Dayud Khan or Todar Mull now sat by the evening fire under the pepul tree, and spoke of the deeds they had performed. The stories lost nothing by the rehearsing, the incidents of the war became more and more marvellous as they were repeated from year to year, and admiring listeners looked up to the grey-headed narrators as men of a heroic age, whose deeds a younger generation could never hope to emulate.

A suspicious and watchful world could find no fault in Nobo Kumar's management of the estates. He retained and rewarded the old servants of Birnagar. He showed respect to the memory of Noren's grandfather. He maintained all the charitable institutions, all the temples, all the Dharamsalas which Noren's ancestors had founded. And quietly controlling the entire administration, he avoided that outward show of power which excites popular alarm. When Raja Man Singh came as Governor of Bengal and visited Birnagar, he found reasons to be satisfied with the arrangement which had been made by Raja Todar Mull. More than this, he bestowed honours on Nobo Kumar for his faithful service, and he confirmed the royal promise to restore Debipur to him when the heir of Birnagar came of age.

A few, very few of the old servants of Noren's grandfather, who were now hoary-headed, saw farther. They saw—or thought they saw—that under a smiling face and a kindly behaviour the manager harboured a deep design and a settled purpose. They noticed that Nobo Kumar had quietly and secretly won over every agent in the two estates to his cause. They observed that emissaries from Birnagar were busy in every village and every market-place. And they also perceived that the outworks of Debipur were strengthened, the armed retainers of Debipur were increased. What all this meant they only guessed, but dared not speak. Only when they met their old master's grandson—now a handsome and high-spirited young man—they would take him apart and whisper suspicions into his ears.