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.

At this pass Partap was posted with the flower of Mewar, and glorious was the struggle for its maintenance. Clan after clan followed with desperate intrepidity, emulating the daring of their prince, who led the crimson banner into the hottest part of the field. In vain he strained every nerve to encounter Raja Man; but though denied the luxury of revenge on his Rajput foe, he made good a passage to where Salim commanded. His guards fell before Partap, and but for the steel plates which defended his howda, the lance of the Rajput would have deprived Akbar of his heir. His steed, the gallant Chetak, nobly seconded his lord, and is represented in all the historical drawings of this battle with one foot raised upon the elephant of the Mogul, while his rider has his lance propelled against his foe. The conductor, destitute of the means of defence, was slain, when the infuriated animal, now without control, carried off Salim. On this spot the carnage was immense: the Moguls eager to defend Salim; the heroes of Mewar to second their prince, who had already received seven wounds [339].^[19] Marked by the ‘royal umbrella,’ which he would not lay aside, and which collected the might of the enemy against him, Partap was thrice rescued from amidst the foe, and was at length nearly overwhelmed, when the Jhala chief gave a signal instance of fidelity, and extricated him with the loss of his own life. Mana seized upon the insignia of Mewar, and rearing the ‘gold sun’ over his own head, made good his way to an intricate position, drawing after him the brunt of the battle, while his prince was forced from the field. With all his brave vassals the noble Jhala fell; and in remembrance of the deed his descendants have, since the day of Haldighat, borne the regal ensigns of Mewar, and enjoyed ‘the right hand of her princes.’^[20] But this desperate valour was unavailing against such a force, with a numerous field artillery and a dromedary corps mounting swivels; and of twenty-two thousand Rajputs assembled on that day for the defence of Haldighat, only eight thousand quitted the field alive.^[21]

Sakta, whose personal enmity to Partap had made him a traitor to Mewar, beheld from the ranks of Akbar the ‘blue horse’ flying unattended. Resentment was extinguished, and a feeling of affection, mingling with sad and humiliating recollections, took possession of his bosom. He joined in the pursuit, but only to slay the pursuers, who fell beneath his lance; and now, for the first time in their lives, the brothers embraced in friendship. Here Chetak fell, and as the Rana unbuckled his caparison to place it upon Ankara, presented to him by his brother, the noble steed expired. An altar was raised, and yet marks the spot, where Chetak^[22] died; and the entire scene may be seen painted on the walls of half the houses of the capital [340].

The greeting between the brothers was necessarily short; but the merry Sakta, who was attached to Salim’s personal force, could not let it pass without a joke; and inquiring “how a man felt when flying for his life?” he quitted Partap with the assurance of reunion the first safe opportunity. On rejoining Salim, the truth of Sakta was greatly doubted when he related that Partap had not only slain his pursuers, but his own steed, which obliged him to return on that of the Khorasani. Prince Salim pledged his word to pardon him if he related the truth; when Sakta replied, “The burthen of a kingdom is on my brother’s shoulders, nor could I witness his danger without defending him from it.” Salim kept his word, but dismissed the future head of the Saktawats. Determined to make a suitable nazar on his introduction, he redeemed Bhainsror by a coup de main, and joined Partap at Udaipur, who made him a grant of the conquest, which long remained the chief abode of the Saktawats;^[23] and since the day when this, their founder, preserved the life of his brother and prince against his Mogul pursuers, the birad of the bard to all of his race is Khorasani Multani ka Agal, ‘the barrier to Khorasan and Multan,’ from which countries were the chiefs he slew.

On the 7th of Sawan, S. 1632 (July, A.D. 1576), a day ever memorable in her annals, the best blood of Mewar irrigated the pass of Haldighat. Of the nearest kin of the prince five hundred were slain: the exiled prince of Gwalior, Ramsah, his son Khanderao, with three hundred and fifty of his brave Tuar clan, paid the debt of gratitude with their lives. Since their expulsion by Babur they had found sanctuary in Mewar, whose princes diminished their feeble revenues to maintain inviolable the rites of hospitality.^[24] Mana, the devoted Jhala, lost one hundred and fifty of his vassals, and every house of Mewar mourned its chief support.

Years thus rolled away, each ending with a diminution of his means and an increase to his misfortunes. His family was his chief source of anxiety: he dreaded their captivity, an apprehension often on the point of being realised. On one occasion they were saved by the faithful Bhils of Kava, who carried them in wicker baskets and concealed them in the tin mines of Jawara, where they guarded [342] and fed them. Bolts and rings are still preserved in the trees about Jawara and Chawand, to which baskets were suspended, the only cradles of the royal children of Mewar, in order to preserve them from the tiger and the wolf. Yet amidst such complicated evils the fortitude of Partap remained unshaken, and a spy sent by Akbar represented the Rajput and his chiefs seated at a scanty meal, maintaining all the etiquette observed in prosperity, the Rana bestowing the dauna to the most deserving, and which, though only of the wild fruit of the country, was received with all the reverence of better days. Such inflexible magnanimity touched the soul of Akbar,^[29] and extorted the homage of every chief in Rajasthan; nor could those who swelled the gorgeous train of the emperor withhold their admiration. Nay, these annals have preserved some stanzas addressed by the Khankhanan,^[30] the first of the satraps of Delhi, to the noble Rajput, in his native tongue, applauding his valour and stimulating his perseverance: “All is unstable in this world: land and wealth will disappear, but the virtue of a great name lives for ever. Patta^[31] abandoned wealth and land, but never bowed the head: alone, of all the princes of Hind, he preserved the honour of his race.”

But there were moments when the wants of those dearer than his own life almost excited him to frenzy. The wife of his bosom was insecure, even in the rock or the cave; and his infants, heirs to every luxury, were weeping around him for food: for with such pertinacity did the Mogul myrmidons pursue them, that “five meals have been prepared and abandoned for want of opportunity to eat them.” On one occasion his queen and his son’s wife were preparing a few cakes from the flour of the meadow grass,^[32] of which one was given to each; half for the present, the rest for a future meal. Partap was stretched beside them pondering on his misfortunes, when a piercing cry from his daughter roused him from reflection: a wild cat had darted on the reserved portion of food, and the agony of hunger made her shrieks insupportable. Until that moment his fortitude had been unsubdued. He had beheld his sons and his kindred fall around him on the field without emotion—“For this the Rajput was born”; but the lamentation of his children for food “unmanned him.” He cursed the name of royalty, if only to be enjoyed on such conditions, and he demanded of Akbar a mitigation of his hardships [343].

"The hopes of the Hindu rest on the Hindu; yet the Rana forsakes them. But for Partap, all would be placed on the same level by Akbar; for our chiefs have lost their valour and our females their honour. Akbar is the broker in the market of our race: all has he purchased but the son of Uda; he is beyond his price. What true Rajput would part with honour for nine days (nauroza); yet how many have bartered it away? Will Chitor come to this market, when all have disposed of the chief article of the Khatri? Though Patta has squandered away wealth, yet this treasure has he preserved. Despair has driven man to this mart, to witness their dishonour: from such infamy the descendant of Hamir alone has been preserved. The world asks, whence the concealed aid of Partap? None but the soul of manliness and his sword: with it, well has he maintained the Khatri’s pride. This broker in the market [344] of men will one day be overreached; he cannot live for ever: then will our race come to Partap, for the seed of the Rajput to sow in our desolate lands. To him all look for its preservation, that its purity may again become resplendent."

It is not New Year’s Day, but a festival especially instituted by Akbar, and to which he gave the epithet Khushroz, ‘day of pleasure,’ held on the ninth day (nauroza), following the chief festival of each month. The court assembled, and was attended by all ranks. The queen also had her court, when the wives of the nobles and of the Rajput vassal princes were congregated. But the Khushroz was chiefly marked by a fair held within the precincts of the court, attended only by females. The merchants’ wives exposed the manufactures of every clime, and the ladies of the court were the purchasers.^[36] “His majesty is also there in disguise, by which means he learns the value of merchandise, and hears what is said of the state of the empire and the character of the officers of government.” The ingenuous Abu-l Fazl thus softens down the unhallowed purpose of this day; but posterity cannot admit that the great Akbar was to obtain these results amidst the Pushto jargon of the dames of Islam, or the mixed Bhakha of the fair of [345] Rajasthan. These ‘ninth day fairs’ are the markets in which Rajput honour was bartered, and to which the brave Prithiraj makes allusion.^[37]

Udaipur was also regained; though this acquisition was so unimportant as scarcely to merit remark. In all likelihood it was abandoned from the difficulty of defending it, when all around had submitted to Partap; though the annals ascribe it to a generous sentiment of Akbar, prompted by the great Khankhanan, whose mind appears to have been captivated by the actions of the Rajput prince.^[40] An anecdote is appended to account for Akbar’s relaxation of severity, but it is of too romantic a nature even for this part of their annals.

Repose was, however, no boon to the noblest of his race. A mind like Partap’s could enjoy no tranquillity while, from the summit of the pass which guarded Udaipur, his eye embraced the Kunguras of Chitor, to which he must ever be a stranger. To a soul like his, burning for the redemption of the glory of his race, the mercy thus shown him, in placing a limit to his hopes, was more difficult of endurance than the pangs of fabled Tantalus. Imagine the warrior, yet in manhood’s prime, broken with fatigues and covered with scars, from amidst the fragments of basaltic ruin^[41] (fit emblem of his own condition!), casting a wistful eye to [348] the rock stained with the blood of his fathers; whilst in the ‘dark chamber’ of his mind the scenes of glory enacted there appeared with unearthly lustre. First, the youthful Bappa, on whose head was the ‘mor he had won from the Mori’:^[42] the warlike Samarsi, arming for the last day of Rajput independence, to die with Prithiraj on the banks of the Ghaggar: again, descending the steep of Chitor, the twelve sons of Arsi, the crimson banner floating around each, while from the embattled rock the guardian goddess looked down on the carnage which secured a perpetuity of sway. Again, in all the pomp of sacrifice, the Deolia chiefs, Jaimall and Patta; and like the Pallas of Rajasthan, the Chondawat dame, leading her daughter into the ranks of destruction: examples for their sons’ and husbands’ imitation. At length clouds of darkness dimmed the walls of Chitor: from her battlements ‘Kungura Rani’^[43] had fled; the tints of dishonour began to blend with the visions of glory; and lo! Udai Singh appeared flying from the rock to which the honour of his house was united. Aghast at the picture his fancy had portrayed, imagine him turning to the contemplation of his own desolate condition, indebted for a cessation of persecution to the most revolting sentiment that can assail an heroic mind—compassion; compared with which scorn is endurable, contempt even enviable: these he could retaliate; but for the high-minded, the generous Rajput, to be the object of that sickly sentiment, pity, was more oppressive than the arms of his foe.

On the banks of the Pichola, Partap and his chiefs had constructed a few huts^[44] (the site of the future palace of Udaipur), to protect them during the inclemency of the rains in the day of their distress. Prince Amra, forgetting the lowliness of the dwelling, a projecting bamboo of the roof caught the folds of his turban and dragged it off as he retired. A hasty emotion, which disclosed a varied feeling, was observed with pain by Partap, who thence adopted the opinion that his son would never withstand the hardships necessary to be endured in such a cause. “These sheds,” said the dying prince, “will give way to sumptuous dwellings, thus generating the love of ease; and luxury with its concomitants will ensue, to which the independence of Mewar, which we have bled to maintain, will be sacrificed: and you, my chiefs, will follow the pernicious example.” They pledged themselves, and became guarantees for the prince, “by the throne of Bappa Rawal,” that they would not permit mansions to be raised till Mewar had recovered her independence. The soul of Partap was satisfied, and with joy he expired.

Thus closed the life of a Rajput whose memory is even now idolized by every Sesodia, and will continue to be so, till renewed oppression shall extinguish the remaining sparks of patriotic feeling. May that day never arrive! yet if such be her destiny, may it, at least, not be hastened by the arms of Britain!

It is worthy the attention of those who influence the destinies of States in more favoured climes, to estimate the intensity of feeling which could arm this prince to oppose the resources of a small principality against the then most powerful empire of the world, whose armies were more numerous and far more efficient than any ever led by the Persian against the liberties of Greece. Had Mewar possessed her Thucydides or her Xenophon, neither the wars of the Peloponnesus nor the retreat of the ‘ten thousand’ would have yielded more diversified incidents for [350] the historic muse, than the deeds of this brilliant reign amid the many vicissitudes of Mewar. Undaunted heroism, inflexible fortitude, that which ‘keeps honour bright,’ perseverance,—with fidelity such as no nation can boast, were the materials opposed to a soaring ambition, commanding talents, unlimited means, and the fervour of religious zeal; all, however, insufficient to contend with one unconquerable mind. There is not a pass in the alpine Aravalli that is not sanctified by some deed of Partap,—some brilliant victory or, oftener, more glorious defeat. Haldighat is the Thermopylae of Mewar; the field of Dawer her Marathon.