We were eating peanuts in the Durbar Hall. The rani was reading a letter from Captain Skene, regarding the sepoys in the nearby cantonment of Meerut. They were refusing to obey British orders. Then, like a wind, word started to spread that sepoys were disobeying orders in Jhansi, too. That morning, a hundred men had been sent to the whipping post for refusing to do as the British commanded. I looked across the hall at the male guards. They had been joining us for evening tea ever since we had moved into the Rani Mahal; the palace was too small to live separate lives the way we once did. Our eyes met and we knew.
The rani cleared her throat and continued reading Captain Skene’s letter. She never said how she’d come by the stolen copy, but the rani had spies all across Jhansi.
The troops here, I am glad to say, continue staunch and express their inbounded abhorrence of the atrocities committed at Meerut and Delhi. I am going on the principle of showing perfect confidence, and I am quite sure I am right. . . . All will settle down here in Jhansi.
We were still marveling at the naiveté of his words when a messenger arrived, escorted by four of the rani’s guards. As soon as we saw him, we rose, and the rani did the same. He bowed deeply, but the rani waved off such formalities. “What’s happening?” she demanded.
“Your Highness. The sepoys have burned two of the barracks inside the Fortress of Jhansi, and now a third one is burning!”
There is an expression you have in English: The color drained from her face. Well, this is exactly what happened when the rani heard this news. She turned so white that the messenger stepped forward, thinking she might faint.
“Your Highness!” Sundari said.
The rani held on to Sundari’s shoulder for support.
For two days you could feel the tension in the city; it was as if Jhansi was an instrument improperly strung and so taut its strings threatened to snap. We all attended to our duties the same as before, but we were waiting to see what would happen next.
When it happened, we were practicing in the front of the Rani Mahal before the sun came up. Shots rang out and all of us froze. Kahini was the first to sling her bow over her shoulder and run. We followed behind her as more shots rang out and people began running from the crowded marketplace. A short man in a sepoy’s uniform made his way toward the gates and asked to see the rani. We took his pistol and his sword and let him through. The rani was in the courtyard: when he saw her, he rushed to touch her feet and bowed.
“The sepoys of Jhansi are rebelling against the British, Your Highness! A man named Havildar Gurbaksh is leading the seventh company of the twelfth regiment, and they have taken over Star Fort.”
There were three forts within the city of Jhansi. The one that had once been the rani’s home, Star Fort, and Town Fort. Only the magazine in Star Fort held supplies and ammunition.
“What else?” the rani said. I could see that she was doing her very best to look neutral. Because if she openly supported the rebels and the British subdued them, they would kill her.
The short sepoy shifted from foot to foot. “Two officers have been killed, and the rest of the British are fleeing for their lives. Captain Skene is trying to persuade his people to take refuge in Town Fort.”
I thought of Dr. McEgan and Mrs. McEgan, who had helped us prepare for our journey to London. I also thought of Major Wilkes, and hoped he hadn’t returned from England with his fiancée.
“Who sent you?” the rani asked.
The sepoy looked at his sandals. “No one, Your Highness. I came on my own.”
So the other sepoys didn’t trust her.
The rani sent her Durgavasi and her personal guards to assemble inside the Durbar Hall. As we did, the two hundred soldiers the British had allowed her to hire made a protective ring around the Rani Mahal. She remained downstairs with Arjun and Sundari.
“What are we doing?” Kahini demanded on our way up the stairs. “Why aren’t we helping the rebels at Star Fort?”
“That’s assuming the rani wishes to help them,” Mandar said.
Inside the Durbar Hall, there was barely room to stand, let alone sit. The room had been built for fifty people, but with all of the mahal’s servants crowded inside, there were nearly two hundred. I stood near one of the windows, and Jhalkari and I tried to make out what was happening below. Smoke filled the marketplace, and people were running and closing up their stalls, but there was no sign of any flames.
“The British can last quite some time in Town Fort,” Jhalkari said. “It was designed to withstand a siege. There’s a well, and at least a week’s worth of food.”
Finally, the rani appeared with Arjun, Sundari, and her father. After speaking briefly with Kahini, they asked Jhalkari and me to follow them into her personal chamber. When we were seated, it was her father who spoke.
“There are sixty-six Europeans in Town Fort,” he said. “More than half of them are women and children.”
“So the question is now, what do we do for them?” the rani said. “There must be something we can do.”
In contrast to Queen Victoria, I thought, who hides behind her Parliament and does nothing.
We all looked at one another. None of us wanted to be the first to respond.