The Queen of Jhansi

Like hundreds of millions of Indian schoolchildren over the decades since it was first written, I have always been inspired by Subadhra Kumari Chauhan's poetic rendering of the story of Lakshmi, Queen of Jhansi. Everyone who went to school in India remembers the stirring lines of the chorus:

Chamak uthi san satavan me, woh talwar purani thi.

Bundele har bholo ke muh hamne suni kahani thi.

Kub ladhi, mardhani, woh tho Jhansi wali rani thi.

Recently, I put my research skills to work piecing together her true story. To my surprise, I found that her history, in the 1840s and the 1850s, was even more heartrending than the brief thumbnail that appears in the schoolbooks. I was moved to write my own epic poem about her, paying due tribute to Subhadra Kumari Chauhan's original effort.

I am not ashamed to admit I shed a few tears as I wrote it.

LAKSHMI OF JHANSI © RM Burgess, October 30, 2021

Canto 1 – Childhood in exile

• She was a motherless child in an exiled court,

Raised with boys playing martial sport.

Manikarnika També, called Manu or Chhabli.

A warrior maiden both deadly and lovely.

• A Karada Brahmin among men so rough,

Her sect was small, her father was gruff,

She learned very young her hurts to hide,

And deal with delicate masculine pride.

• At fourteen they pronounced her ready to wed,

“Forget our defeats,” the Peshwa said.

“Chhabli, you’re proficient with sword and pen;

 Your alliance will help us rise again.”

Canto 2 – Marriage

• In Bundelkhand lay the kingdom of Jhansi,

Gangadhar Newalkar needed a rani.

Widely regarded as quite a catch,

He petitioned the Peshwa for a suitable match.

• “He’s forty-five,” said the Peshwa, “Too old for romance,

But he’s a Karada Brahmin, rules Jhansi’s expanse

A strategic fort, with an army well-trained.

A well-run kingdom, finances unstrained.

You’ve always been dear to me, this is your due,

Go forth, Chhabli, make your royal debut.”

•  She set out for Jhansi as a young bride,

She had much to worry her on the long ride.

British puppet, she thought. Widower to boot,

Sad and lonely, a pitiful coot.

• Gangadhar met her at the city gates.

Manu was surprised by his stately traits,

She resolved to give him a chance,

To see if reality matched first glance.

• “You exceed your reputation,” the raja said.

“I expected a child, got a woman instead.”

“I’m not here as a woman,” was Manu’s retort.

“I’m here to be your queen consort.”

• Said he, “You add luster to my noble House,

It is my good fortune to have you as my spouse.

You deserve a name that reflects what you bring.

Lakshmi of Jhansi, it has the right ring.” 

• With his intellectual bent, he took delight in her mind,

He tempered her harshness, she learned to be kind.

Despite their ages, they made a good pair,

From the strategic arrangement grew a love they did share.

• For exercise each morning on horseback she rode.

Her people were proud of the litheness she showed.

A sword in each hand, the reins in her teeth,

They watched in awe as she galloped the heath.

• In her stables she had many fine horses.

Chosen to excel at specific courses.

But Baadal was good on any terrain,

He was a mighty black, with a flowing mane.

• For nine happy years they reigned supreme,

The old king was stern, the young queen was keen.

With her wit and his wisdom, they were respected, not feared,

When they appeared in public, crowds gathered and cheered.

• Then Lakshmi fell pregnant, their world was complete.

It was joy as they listened to the baby’s heartbeat.

It was a boy, but alas! The parents’ worst fear,

Despite every care, he lived less than a year.

• Worse was to follow as Gangadhar grew weak,

He feared for his line, asked Lakshmi to seek,

An adopted son from within their clans

To keep Jhansi out of British hands.

• His health declined, then grew very fraught,

A cousin’s son to his bedside she brought.

He signed the adoption with a British witness,

Hoping thereby to gain legal fitness.

Canto 3 – The Doctrine of Lapse

• A day past the signing, Gangadhar expired,

Hoping he’d done as the British required,

And given Lakshmi an ironclad claim

To rule for the son he’d given his name.

• The papers were filed with the British Resident,

Who sent them to Delhi to check precedent.

Said John Lang to Lakshmi, “You have respect and esteem,

And your seasoned advisors make a great team.”

• But the Doctrine of Lapse had just been enacted.

And adopted heirs were directly impacted.

Absence of a blood heir, so read the text,

Allows territories to be annexed.

Lakshmi no longer had British support,

She was ordered forthwith to vacate the fort.

Canto 4 – The siege of Jhansi

• “I will not give up Jhansi!” Lakshmi cried.

“I take Mahadev as my guide.

We’ll fight to resist the foreign host,

We pledge our lives, our very utmost.”

• She trained new militias and had them armed,

Organized Jhansi for the coming storm.

Within the walls of the fort, she built a large foundry,

Cast huge cannon, that could strike the town’s boundary.

 ‘Hard Lightning’, ‘Lord Shankar’ the two biggest were named,

Under Ghulam Ghaus Khan they rained death on the plain.

• The British marched, under General Hugh Rose,

They surrounded Jhansi, the queen to depose.

The redcoats laid siege, firing shell and shot,

But the defenders gave as good as they got. 

• Grenadier and Hussar, pushed forward relentless

Rose rallied his forces to break through the defenses.

But with muskets, swords, and pitch so black,

Assault after assault was beaten back.

The siege lasted for weeks, no end in sight.

Ramparts shelled by day were repaired each night.

• Rebuffed in his frontal attacks,

Rose considered alternate tacks.

“We must open a gate of the fort,” he said.

“Let’s try gold since we’ve failed with lead.”

• “Go out and recruit some native spies,

Who can enter the fort, act as our eyes.

With money enough to serve as bait,

They must induce a captain to open a gate.”

• Dulhaji Thakur was a bad seed,

A disgruntled gunner infected with greed,

“A woman in charge!” so ran his grouse,

“She should stay in the kitchen, not leave the house.”

• Rose’s spies found Dulhaji’s ear, 

And told him what he wanted to hear.

Promised him gold and a share of the loot,

When Jhansi fell under the British boot.

• A week thence, on a new moon’s night

At the darkest hour before first light.

Dulhaji crept along the gantry

Of the Orcha Gate and killed the sentry.

Used the prearranged signal, a pistol shot

That marked the success of the traitorous plot.

• Through the weakened gate crashed the British tide.

The outnumbered defenders were swept aside.

The injured were slaughtered by the merciless horde,

All women and children were put to the sword.

• Sundar, her general, begged Lakshmi to fly,

“With what I have seen, if you stay you will die.

Baadal is saddled, ready in his stall,

Your Pathan guards are outside the wall.

The fort is lost, but with you alive,

The fight can go on, so you must survive.”

• Lakshmi donned a breastplate her chest to bolster,

Stuck her sword in a scabbard, two pistols in holsters.

Then as the defenses dissolved into rout,

She swung into the saddle and trotted out. 

Her adopted son was like a knapsack,

Though deathly frightened, he clung to her back.

• The Hussars saw her, a party gave chase

She urged Baadal to a gallop, he was a picture of grace.

She headed for the nearest Bhanderi Gate.

But Grenadiers barred it, it looked like checkmate.

A shot from carbine struck her breastplate,

More shots followed, they came in a spate.

• She rode atop the bulwark and onward,

The chasing cavalry thought she was cornered.

She urged Baadal on, promptly did he bound,

It was full ten meters from the top to the ground.

• He loved his mistress, he gave her his all,

With his flesh and his muscle, he cushioned her fall.

But it was too much for a horse, he died right there,

Lakshmi paused a moment, shed a tear, said a prayer.

• The Hussars couldn’t follow, they looked down astounded,

Lakshmi was soon by her guard surrounded.

“To Kalpi,” she said, “Nana and Topé’s camp.

With them, our forces can revamp.”

Canto 5 – Kalpi and Gwalior

• Arriving in Kalpi was a great surprise,

For the Indian forces were disorganized.

Basic quartermastering was neglected,

So most of the troops were disaffected.

• “Arrange food and pay,” Lakshmi exclaimed.

“Or men will desert, they cannot be blamed.”

But before the army could be properly funded,

The British attacked, her plans were disrupted.

• Defeated at Kalpi, they withdrew to the west,

Toward Gwalior, its strong fort to invest.

But Jayaji Scindia the Gwalior king,

Continued to British coattails cling.

He fled, asking for British protection,

While Lakshmi took Gwalior, a powerful bastion.

• She sternly warned the troops against looting,

So it was peaceful takeover with no shooting.

She knew the British would soon arrive,

And prepared for battle with verve and drive.

• Lakshmi spoke in the council of war,

“Gwalior as a fortress is very secure.

But it has one weakness, its southern redoubt.

The low walls expose it to being cut out.

If an enemy force enters, they’re in at our rear,

That will mean the end for us all, I fear.”

• “I’ll take my remaining Jhansi forces,

Three cannons, infantry, all our horses.

We’ll spread out, screen the southern reaches,

To prevent the British from making breaches.”

• But Scindia had reached the British in Agra,

With the loss of his capital, he hissed like a cobra.

He swiftly gave them all the fort’s plans,

With the southern redoubt and its weaker spans.

• Armed with this valuable information,

Rose could place all his formations,

Facing the weaker southern redoubt,

Where he knew the defenders would be drawn out.

Canto 6 – Kota-ki-Serai

• The battle was joined on a hot day,

That was humid, overcast, and gray,

Lakshmi’s three guns drew bead and spoke, 

Rose’s thirty replied with fire and smoke.

He advanced with speed to gain the field

Before she could for support appeal.

• She fought at the front, by example she led.

Outnumbered, outgunned, her army was bled.

Losses rose, morale fell, her troops fled or died.

But she refused to run, “I am Kali!” she cried.

Her Pathan guard remained steadfast.

All fifty-four with her to the last.

• Finally, there was just one left alive,

Somehow did he connive, contrive,

To get her behind the shelter,

Of a compound wall of brick and mortar.

•  “O my valiant queen,” this last one said,

“I’ve tasted your salt, I’ve eaten your bread.

Now take my tunic and my steed,

And depart this field with all good speed.”

• “Gul Mohammed,” Lakshmi sighed,

“I wish your stand here in Kota-ki-Serai,

Will not be in vain, not be for naught,

But inspire others to do as they ought.”

• She touched her kumkum with a finger, his forehead she marked,

He knew the ritual to which she harked.

“With a brother like you, I have no fear.”

Through his warrior’s demeanor, came the hint of a tear.

• Emerging from the cover of the compound wall,

She shot a Hussar, he did fall. 

His squadron saw their mate was slain,

And spurred their mounts with might and main.

• They shouted, “Surrender!” She charged them instead.

The thought of enslavement filled her with dread,

In her head was the Peshwa, chained to his pension,

The risk of death gave her less apprehension.

• Sword in hand, “Mahadev!” she cried,

She slashed at one, he fell and died,

Turned on a second with her naked blade, 

But he lit the fuse and hurled a grenade.

• The bomb exploded, the blast rent the air, 

Unhorsed and bloody, she brought pistol to bear.

But her shot struck cuirass, gained no penetration, 

And the Hussars gathered in ordered formation.

Then as she lay helpless on the ground,

They aimed their carbines, fired round after round.

• “A common soldier,” the lead Hussar said.

“A sowar’s tunic, though now stained red.”

“A fierce one,” said another. “Gave us quite a scare.”

Then they cantered away, left her lying there.

All they saw was the uniform.

They failed to note her womanly form.

• A hermit nearby, in deep meditation,

Was drawn out by the sounds of the confrontation.

He found her in the mud, very near death,

Heard her rasping, ragged breath.

“I cannot help you, your state is dire.”

In reply she whispered, “Please build me a pyre.”

• “My body mustn’t fall to the British,” she said.

“They’ll use it to advance their imperial tread.

When our people hear I’ve failed in my quest,

Please let them know I did my best.”

Canto 7 – The aftermath

• “Brave, clever, and gritty,” said General Hugh Rose.

“The most dangerous of the rebels, difficult to dispose.

Her death may yet on us backfire,

If her words and deeds others inspire.

Her memory is sure to give patriots succor,

We must therefore ensure that Indians forget her.”

• John Lang had known Lakshmi well,

In the halcyon days before Jhansi fell.

In later years he received many an inquiry,

And always responded with words from his diary.

• “In mien and manner, she was a queen,

The most remarkable woman I have ever seen.

Her face always wore intelligent expressions,

Ever willing to debate, raise thorny questions.

In foreign tongues like English and Persian,

She could carry a spirited conversation.

• “Her eyes were bright, so dark and sooty,

A delicate nose, she was quite a beauty.

Her figure was fine, and often this meant,

She heated a man’s blood quite without intent.”

• Colonel Mason wrote his History with all due care,

A military man, he tried to be fair.

 “She had many a fault in British eyes,

We ignore her virtues, find much to despise.

But I’ll say forthright, put it quite bluntly,

That she lived and died for her country.”

Canto 8 – Epilogue

• She lost most of the battles she fought,

Failed to achieve the goals that she sought.

Assailed by traitors and an empire’s might

Her chances of victory were always slight

She took all those risks, fully aware 

And inspired new generations to dare.

• Only twenty-nine when they killed her,

They thought they’d erased her.

But the temple bells rang,

And the Bundel bards sang. 

Told the undying story,

Of a life full of glory.

For what’s most important is not how she died,

But she lived, she loved, how hard she tried.

Biographical Sketch:

R. M. Burgess grew up in Madison, Wisconsin, but following itinerant parental careers was educated in India and England before completing graduate work at Cornell. As a successful professional researcher, Burgess writes academic articles for a living but is passionate about poetry and fiction. 

Burgess published four fantasy novels in the New Eartha Series before adding romantic fiction to his portfolio. His novel Flawed Perfection – A Love Story was published in 2019, with its sequel Roxy Reid – Five Weeks in New York, appearing in 2020. His most recent novel, Lily of Red Hills, appeared in 2021. All his books are available on his author site:

https://www.amazon.com/R-M-Burgess/e/B00FYXDSSO/

A licensed bike racer, marathon runner, sometime triathlete, keen skier, and world traveler, Burgess currently resides in Philadelphia, USA.