Hassan Butt, the young commander Humayun had promoted the previous day, was among the foremost in the charge, easily distinguished by his pale blue turban and the white horse he was riding. Hit in the head by a musket ball, the horse fell instantly and Hassan Butt crashed from the saddle, arms flailing, and rolled over several times on the stony ground. Almost incredibly he then struggled to his feet. The last Humayun saw of him before the main force of his charging cavalry engulfed him, he was waving his sword encouraging his fellows onward.
Humayun had no time to think more about his bravery since he was himself now among Sher Shah’s horsemen. Swerving to avoid the swinging flail of one warrior on a black horse, he made for a tall man who was mounted on a ginger horse and wearing a steel breastplate — surely an important officer. Two of the riders around the man instantly turned their horses towards Humayun who, ducking low, avoided their sword strokes and struck one of them — a small, bearded man with a pock-marked face — a glancing blow to the shoulder which made him drop his weapon.
Quickly Humayun urged his horse alongside the officer. The man cut at Humayun with his long curved sword but at close quarters was unable to put sufficient force into his swing for the sword to penetrate Humayun’s breastplate. Nevertheless, the strength of the stroke knocked Humayun sideways and his horse carried him away. Quickly regaining his balance, Humayun pulled on the reins to turn his mount again and attacked the officer head on. The man raised his metal shield to parry Humayun’s first sword stroke but was too slow in getting the heavy shield down to prevent Humayun’s second catching him in his side where it was unprotected by his breastplate. He was not wearing chain mail so the sword bit deep into muscle and rib cartilage. As the officer instinctively dropped his shield and grasped at his wound, Humayun slashed again, this time across the man’s throat, nearly severing his head, and the officer fell from the saddle.
Bent on vengeance, another of the officer’s bodyguards next engaged Humayun, wielding a two-headed axe. He was soon joined by a second and then a third, both with long, double-edged swords. Humayun held them off, wheeling his nimble brown horse and parrying their blows but suffering a minor wound to his cheek from a sharp sword, until some of his own guards galloped up to assist him. Before long, two of his attackers were stretched on the stony earth, cut down by Humayun with sword strokes to head and neck. The third had dropped his sword and was fleeing, blood from a spear thrust to his thigh inflicted by one of Humayun’s guards pouring down his saddle and staining his horse’s light coat.
‘We have driven off most of Sher Shah’s cavalry. His musketeers and archers are pulling back too,’ a breathless officer reported.
‘Good. Establish our archers and musketeers among the boulders where those of Sher Shah were. Turn over some of those baggage wagons to make extra barricades and get some of the guns pulled round ready to fire if Sher Shah tries another flank attack.’
As his men went to work, pushing and straining at the large wooden baggage carts to topple them and bringing up oxen to move the cannon, Humayun rode towards a point a few hundred yards away on the ridge where he could get a better view of the battlefield and ponder his next move. On reaching it, his decision was made for him. Sher Shah’s horsemen had broken through the middle of his line of earth ramparts about three-quarters of a mile away and his own men were retreating before them.
‘What happened?’ Humayun demanded of a short, dark officer on a brown and white horse who was leading a party of about fifty tough-looking Badakhshani archers forward.
‘I am not certain, Majesty, but I was told that after Sher Shah’s first attack surprised us by dividing to encircle the ends of our lines, he ordered a second wave of horsemen to gallop down the ridge in close formation to assault the very centre of our ramparts, a position which was weakened — as he knew it would be, I am sure — by our withdrawal of troops to protect the flanks. So fierce was their charge that they overwhelmed our remaining defenders and drove deep into the very centre of our camp. Baba Yasaval sent orders for us to advance to help defend the position he has established over there, around the base of that outcrop.’
Looking in the direction of the officer’s pointing arm, Humayun saw a great melee of horsemen and could just make out Baba Yasaval’s yellow flag. ‘I trust in the bravery of you and your men. We will drive Sher Shah back. I will summon my mounted bodyguard and precede you into the fight.’
‘Majesty.’
Humayun turned and, beckoning his bodyguards to follow, galloped back up the rise of the ridge towards the outcrop where the fighting was centred. As he rode, he could see more and more of Sher Shah’s men pouring through the undefended breach in his earth ramparts and joining the battle around the outcrop. As he got nearer, he encountered a small group of his own foot soldiers who were running away, abandoning positions which had not yet even come under direct attack. Reining in his horse he shouted to them to return, that all was not lost — but they ran on, eyes fixed and fearful, heading for Kanauj and its crossings over the nearby Ganges.
Only a minute or two later, Humayun was on the edge of the heaving mass of men and of horses around the outcrop. He saw a loose horse gallop away with part of its intestines protruding from a great cut to its belly. Several bodies lay sprawled on the ground, attackers and defenders indistinguishable in death. Baba Yasaval’s soldiers seemed to be slowly yielding ground and being forced back against the steep side of the outcrop but Humayun could still see Baba Yasaval’s yellow flag flying in the middle of the fight. Immediately he charged towards it, leaving his bodyguards to follow as best they could.
Humayun’s brown horse stumbled on the mangled body of one rider whose skull had a great bloody cleft in it but Humayun was a good horseman and the beast was nimble and recovered, carrying Humayun further into the press. He struck one of Sher Shah’s cavalry from the saddle with a single stroke of his sword Alamgir, wounded the horse of a second in the neck, causing it to throw its rider before, collapsing to the ground with a severed windpipe, it brought down another horseman who had been preparing to attack Humayun from behind. Humayun was now what seemed only twenty or so yards from Baba Yasaval. Spying a gap, Humayun pressed forward towards his commander through riders too deeply engaged in fighting each other to notice him.
As he did so, Humayun saw that in fact Baba Yasaval had only about a dozen of his men around him. Three or four of them had lost their horses and Baba Yasaval and their comrades were trying to protect them as they held off Sher Shah’s more numerous attackers. At that very moment, however, one of their assailants — a large, purple-turbaned man with a bushy black beard armed with a long lance — kicked his horse towards one of the dismounted men who was becoming separated from the rest. Despite getting his shield up in front of him to ward off the lance tip, the man was unable to withstand the weight of the charge which knocked him off his feet. He tried desperately to roll away from under the hooves of his attacker’s horse towards his companions but, as he did so, the purple-turbaned horseman pulled back his lance and taking deliberate aim skewered him through the belly before any of Baba Yasaval’s other soldiers could intervene. Quickly twisting his blood-tipped lance out of the body, the purple-turbaned man — surely an officer — retreated back into the mass of his fellows.The whole incident had taken less than a minute, during which Humayun had pushed through to Baba Yasaval’s side.