A Forgotten Empire: Vijayanagar, Robert Sewell [books under 200 pages .TXT] 📗

been disgraceful to retract from his declarations He therefore marched with 7000 horse, all foreign, and encamped on the bank of the river opposite to the enemy, waiting to prepare floats to cross and attack them.

“Some days after his arrival, as he was reposing in his tent, he heard one of the courtiers without the skreens reciting this verse: — ‘Rise and fill the golden goblet with the wine of mirth before the cup itself shall be laid in dust.’ The sultan, inspired by the verse, called his favourites before him, and spreading the carpet of pleasure, amused himself with music and wine. When the banquet had lasted longer than was reasonable, and the fumes of the wine had exercised their power, a fancy seized the sultan to pass the river and attack the enemy…. Warm with wine he resolved to cross immediately, and mounting his elephant, without making his intentions known, proceeded to the river, as if to reconnoitre, but suddenly gave orders for as many of his troops as could to go upon the rafts, and others to follow him on elephants through the river. The officers represented the folly and danger of precipitation; but the sultan, without reply, plunged his own elephant into the stream, and was followed involuntarily by the amras and their followers; on about 250 elephants.

“By great good fortune, all reached the opposite shore in safety, and as many troops as could cross on the floats at two embarkations had time to arrive, when the enemy advanced to battle in so great force as excluded every probable hope of escape to the sultan, who had not more than 2000 men ready to oppose 30,000. The heroes of Islaam, animated with one soul, made so gallant a resistance that about a thousand of the infidels fell, among whom was Sunjeet Roy, the chief general of Beejanuggur; but at last, harassed beyond all power of opposition by cannon-shot, musquetry, and rockets, which destroyed near half their numbers, the survivors threw themselves into the river in hopes of escaping, and Nursoo Bahadur and Ibrahim Bey, who rode on the same elephant with Ismaeel Adil Shaw, drove the animal across the stream, but so great was the current, that except the royal elephant and seven soldiers, all the rest were drowned. The sultan’s rashness was heavily punished by so great a loss. He took a solemn vow never to indulge in wine till he had revenged his defeat; and then, throwing away despair, busied his mind in repairing this unfortunate miscarriage.

“As Mirza Jehangeer had fallen in the action, the sultan consulted with Assud Khan on what measures would be best to take in the present crisis of his affairs. Assud Khan replied, that as his loss was great and the troops dispirited, it would be better for the present to retreat to Beejapore. The sultan approving the advice, marched from the Kistnah to Beejapore, and conferring the dignity of Sippeh Sallar243 on Assud Khan, added several districts to his jaghire, and made him his principal adviser in all important affairs.”

Comparison of Accounts.

Comparing this account with that given by Nuniz, there can, I think, be little doubt that both stories refer to the same event, though there are of course several discrepancies. The origin of the war is related differently. Firishtah states that on the arrival of the Sultan at the river-bank he found the Hindu army encamped on the opposite side; he crossed, after a few days’ delay, with a small force, and was driven into the river. Nuniz says that Krishna Deva Raya heard of Ismail Adil’s arrival on the river-bank while he himself was in camp at Raichur, fifteen miles away; and that he advanced and gave battle nine miles from the river, in the end driving the enemy across. But taking the two narratives as a whole, there are too many points of coincidence to leave any doubt in the mind that each chronicler is writing of the same event.

As to which of the two is more accurate it is impossible now to decide. But considering that Nuniz wrote only fifteen years afterwards, and that there were Portuguese present at the battle, some of whom Nuniz may have personally consulted as to what took place, it would seem more reasonable to trust in him rather than in a Muhammadan historian who did not compile his work till after an interval of sixty years. Moreover, there are some inherent improbabilities in Firishtah’s narrative.

It is worthy of notice, too, that throughout the story of Nuniz at this part of his chronicle there is much that impels the belief that either himself or his informant was present at the Hindu camp while these events were taking place. The narrative of the campaign, in complete contrast to that of the remainder of the history, reads like the account of an eye-witness; especially in the passages describing the fortress of Raichur244 and the camp — where the supplies were so great that “you could find everything that you wanted,”[245] where “you saw”[246] the goldsmiths and artisans at work as if in a city, where “you will find”[247] all kinds of precious stones offered for sale, and where “no one who did not understand the meaning of what he saw would ever dream that a war was going on, but would think that he was in a prosperous city.” Note also the description given of the extraordinary noise made by the drums, trumpets, and shouts of the men; so that even the birds fell down into the soldiers’ hands stricken with terror and “it seemed as if the sky would fall to the earth,” and “if you asked anything, you could not hear yourself speak, and you had to ask by signs.” Many such instances might be given, but not to be tedious I will invite attention to only three more, viz., the account given by Nuniz of how; when receiving the men of the city after its surrender, the king, “casting his eye on Christovao de Figueiredo, nodded his head, and turned to the people telling them to observe what great things could be effected by one good man;”[248] his description of the behaviour of the defeated citizens when Krishna Deva made his triumphant entry into the city; and his narrative of the ambassador’s reception at Vijayanagar by the king after the conclusion of the campaign.[249] It may be remembered that our other chronicler Domingo Paes, was at Vijayanagar with Christovao de Figueiredo some months after the battle, even if he were not personally present in the fighting at Raichur.

The great interest of Nuniz’s narrative lies in the fact that it is the only detailed account extant. Barros related the events in historical fashion, taking his facts from this very chronicle; but he was never in India, and his brief summary is altogether wanting in the power and force contained in the graphic story of Nuniz. The other Portuguese writers pass over the war very lightly. It appears as if it hardly concerned then;, further than that at its close Ruy de Mello seized the mainlands near Goa.

Political Effects of the Battle.

And yet it had far-reaching effects. The Hindu victory so weakened the power and prestige of the Adil Shah that he ceased altogether to dream of any present conquest in the south, and turned his attention to cementing alliances with the other Muhammadan sovereigns, his neighbours. The victory also caused all the other Muhammadan Powers in the Dakhan seriously to consider the political condition of the country; and this eventually led to a combination without which nothing was possible, but by the aid of which the Vijayanagar Empire was finally overthrown and the way to the south opened. It furthermore greatly affected the Hindus by raising in them a spirit of pride and arrogance, which added fuel to the fire, caused them to become positively intolerable to their neighbours, and accelerated their own downfall.

It equally affected the fortunes of the Portuguese on the coast. Goa rose and fell simultaneously with the rise and fall of the second Vijayanagar dynasty; and necessarily so, considering that its entire trade depended on Hindu support; for the king of Portugal was never well disposed towards his hereditary enemies, the “Moors.” This is a point frequently left unnoticed by writers, on Portuguese colonial history. The two most recent authors of works on the subject, Mr. Danvers (“The Portuguese in India”) and Mr. Whiteway (“The Rise of Portuguese Power in India”), pay very little attention to the internal politics of the great country on the fringe alone of which the Portuguese settled, and on the coast of which their vessels came and went. Mr. Danvers devotes one short paragraph to the battle of Raichur,[250] and another251 to the destruction of Vijayanagar. Mr. Whiteway does not even allude to the former event, and concludes his history before arriving at the date of the latter. Yet surely it is easy to see that the success or failure of maritime trade on any given coast must depend on the conditions prevailing in the empire for the supply of which that trade was established. When Vijayanagar, with its grandeur, luxury, and love of display, its great wealth and its enormous armies, was at the height of its power, the foreign traders were eminently successful: when Vijayanagar fell, and the city became desolate and depopulated, the foreign traders had no market for their goods, and trade decayed. So that this great Hindu victory at Raichur deserved a better fate than to be passed over by the historians as if it had been an event of small importance.

The Events that followed the Battle.

Nuniz gives us in detail an account of the events that followed the victory of Krishna Deva Raya, and considering that he wrote only about fifteen years after their occurrence, we should do well to receive his account as probably true in the main. Firishtah, perhaps naturally, preserves a complete silence on the subject.

Nuniz tells us that when the city of Raichur surrendered, the Hindu king made a triumphal entry into it, and treated the garrison with kindness and consideration; while the other Muhammadan kings sent envoys to Krishna Deva Raya on hearing of his success, and received a haughty and irritating reply. Krishna Deva then returned to Vijayanagar and held high festival. Shortly afterwards an ambassador arrived from the defeated Shah, and was treated with scant courtesy for more than a month, after which he was received in audience; when the king sent answer by him to his enemy, that if the Adil Shah would come to him, do obeisance, and kiss his foot, his lands and fortresses should be restored to him. No attention being paid to this, the Raya set out to search for the Shah, hoping, that he would be induced to do homage in the manner demanded and appearing to ignore altogether the effect which would necessarily be produced on the minds of the other kings of the Dakhan by this contemplated supreme humiliation of one of their number. The submission never took place. Krishna led his army as far north as Bijapur, the Adil Shah’s capital, which for a time he occupied and left sadly injured. Then Asada Khan, the Shah’s wily courtier, successfully brought about the death of his personal enemy, Salabat Khan, by inducing the Raya to order his execution; an act to, which the king was led by the machinations of the arch-intriguer, who subordinated his chief’s interests to his own selfish ends.

King Krishna had, in the city of Bijapur, taken prisoner three sons of a former king of the Bahmani dynasty, who had been held captive by the Adil Shahs, and he proclaimed the eldest as king of the Dakhan.[252] This abortive attempt to subvert the rule of the five kings who had established themselves on the