THE STORY OF INDIAN WARFARE | End of May, 1192: Victory and defeat at Tarain - The Battles of Tarain

Two battles, fought just a year apart, decided the fate of India. In the First Battle of Tarain, the Rajput armies under Prithviraj Chauhan inflicted a crippling defeat on the Tamiruds under Mohammed Ghori. Yet, the very next year, they were defeated at the same battleground—largely due to overconfidence and poor tactics—in a battle that marked one of the most significant turning points of Indian history.

The bards of Rajasthan still sing stories of Prithviraj Chauhan, the last Hindu ruler to sit on the throne of Delhi. A courageous warrior, he expanded the Rajput Empire across all of North India. As a dashing prince, he stole the heart of Princess Sanyogita and abducted her from her own swayamwara. Captured by Mohammed Ghori, he was imprisoned and blinded, but got revenge by slaying his captor, using just the sound of a gong to direct his arrow. Tales of him are the stuff of legends, but like all stories, the truth lies somewhere in between.

The story of Prithviraj Chauhan and his fateful encounter with Shihabuddin Muizzuddin Mohammed Bin Sam of Ghor, or Mohammed Ghori as history remembers him, goes back to the mid-12th Century. The Chahamana Empire of the Chauhans extended from Punjab to Bihar and upto Gujarat in the South. As it inched westwards it also touched the borders of the Tamirud Empire of Mohammed Ghori, based in present day Afghanistan. It was but inevitable that the two dominant empires of the time would clash.

Mohammed Ghori had launched a series of raids into India from 1175 onwards, even moving as far south as Gujarat. His forays were not always successful. In 1178, he was soundly defeated by the Chalukyas in the Battle of Gadahatta (near modern day Mount Abu) and barely managed to escape back to Afghanistan. Yet within a decade he had rebuilt his army and by 1190 had expanded his kingdom towards the Punjab, touching on the edges of Prithviraj Chauhan’s kingdom. Border clashes between the Rajputs and the Tamirud forces intensified and slowly the stage was being set for a confrontation.  

The decisive moment came in the winter of 1190 when Mohammed Ghori captured the fortress of Tabarhindah (Modern day Bhatinda) – a vital fortress on the outskirts of the Chauhan Empire. This was a provocation, Prithviraj Chauhan could not ignore and in early 1191, he set out to confront Ghori with an army of around 200000 Cavalry and 3000 elephants. The two large armies, virtually evenly matched, met at Tarain – near modern day Karnal- and here the first major clash of arms took place. 

The First battle of Tarain was a classical set-piece battle which the Indian excelled in. In a fierce day-long battle the Rajputs got the better of their opponents. Their attacks simply smashed the Tamirud lines and routed them. Mohammed Ghori himself was wounded and had to be carried away from the battlefield. His army broke and fled and were pursued by the Rajputs for around 40 kilometers. Yet, at a time when Ghori’s entire army could have been eliminated once and for all, the Rajputs misplaced sense of chivalry and fair play did not permit them to attack a defeated enemy. Ghori and the remnants of his army were allowed to withdraw back to the safety of Afghanistan and there the threat coiled itself once again.

The First Battle of Tarain affected its principal actors differently. Prithviraj Chauhan became overconfident and careless, flush with victory. Ghori, on the other hand, became a man possessed. After his wounds healed, he set about forming a new army of Turks, Tajiks and Afghans. He changed his tactics and organisation and developed small compact units of cavalry and infantry, each assigned specific roles. A year later, he was ready and marched into India at the head of over 1,20,000 well-armed and well-trained troops.

Prithviraj Chauhan had spent a year of indolence. He had abducted and married Sanyogita, the beautiful daughter of his rival Raja Jayachand of Kannauj, and now spent most of his time with his new queen, neglecting the matters of state. Rather than focus on the threat that Ghori still posed, he ignored the frontiers of his empire and concentrated on petty squabbles with his fellow Indian chiefs. No frontier outposts were placed, nor did he receive any information about Ghori’s activities and preparations. In fact, he only awoke to the threat sometime in March 1192, when Mohammed Ghori entered his empire and again captured the fortress of Tabarhindah.

When Prithviraj Chauhan marched out to meet Ghori again, he was not as well prepared as he had been a year earlier. Two of his major generals, Skanda and Udayaraja, who had been the architects of his earlier victory, were out campaigning elsewhere with their armies. An overconfident Prithviraj did not even recall them for this decisive battle. He had gathered a force of around 1,00,000 – 120,000 men, but it was not a cohesive force. Rather, it was a conglomeration of small chiefs and their armies hastily assembled. Once again, the two armies met at Tarain, just ten kilometres southeast of their earlier battle, for an even more decisive encounter.

The two armies encamped opposite each other for a fortnight, and negotiations began. Chauhan sent Ghori a letter proposing that they demarcate the line between the two empires. He suggested that the line be along the areas already captured by Ghori and even allowed him to keep the prized fortress of Tabarhinda. Ghori replied in a meek, subservient manner, saying that he could not act on his own but would await instructions from his brother in Ghazni. It was a well-crafted letter, and its obsequious tone lulled the Rajputs into a misplaced sense of complacency. A temporary truce was established, and the Rajputs let down their guard.

For a fortnight or so, this ‘truce’ remained. While the Rajputs indulged in feasting and merry-making, Ghori was putting his plans in place. One night, at around three in the morning, he launched a furious attack on the Rajput camp that virtually reached up to Prithviraj’s own tent. The only thing that saved the situation was that the cavalry was kept in the centre, which soon regrouped and drove out the raiding party. By then, however much damage had been done.

The so –called “truce” was now over, and the next morning the two armies assembled for battle. The Rajputs lined up in their traditional formation with Prithviraj himself in the centre and two strong formations of all arms on either flank. Ghori’s army was already ready and waiting on the edge of the Tarain plain with a strong force of infantry in the centre, and two battle groups of around 10,000 light cavalry each, on either flank. In the rear was a reserve of 12,000 heavy cavalry – each man strongly armed and heavily mailed. It was an unconventional deployment which Ghori had adapted after having learnt his lessons in the first battle. This time, he would not engage the Rajputs in the conventional battle they excelled in. He would use his cavalry to break their ranks.

The Rajput army was already a little disoriented from the unexpected raid of the night, and even as their pendulous army was forming up, it came under first attack. One of the light cavalry groups of around 10,000 horsemen rode up to a flank and fired showers of arrows onto the packed Rajput ranks. Each horseman was armed with a composite double curved bow, a small bow which could be fired while on the move, and which provided a range of 70 yards more than the traditional long bows of the Rajputs. The Rajput ranks turned to meet this threat, but the light cavalry did not attack. Instead, after firing volleys of arrows, they simply wheeled away. And then the next attack came in from the opposite flank.

Again, the arrows showered down, and the casualties mounted. Again, the Rajput ranks turned to redeploy to meet the threat, and again the cavalry wheeled away without making actual contact.
Four times Ghori repeated this manoeuvre. His light cavalry rode in from the flanks, fired and raced away without offering combat. By noon, the Rajput ranks were ragged, the men exhausted, and the formation had lost cohesion due to constant shifting. A gap appeared in the Rajput lines, and here Ghori launched his fifth and most powerful attack. A force of 12,000 heavy cavalry and around 70,000 infantry tore through the Rajput lines.

The heavy cavalry scythed through the disorganised Rajput ranks. Their own cavalry was dispersed in penny packets and unable to concentrate and offer a coordinated resistance. In the melee, the light cavalry attacked along the flanks and faced with these unconventional tactics, the Rajput lines collapsed. Hemmed in from all sides, they were unable to manoeuvre or fight. Around 50-70,000 Rajput warriors and most of their leaders fell that day. Prithviraj Chauhan was forced to leave the battlefield, but was pursued and captured near Sirsa and taken to Ghori’s camp.

The defeat at Tarain marked the end of an era. The Chauhan Empire collapsed, and Mohammed Ghori now established his sway up to the Yamuna. He placed his favourite General – Qutb-ud-din-Aibak – on the throne of Delhi, and with it began the Delhi Sultanate and the beginning of Muslim rule in India.

The second battle

And what of Prithviraj Chauhan? Legend has it that he was blinded with hot irons and imprisoned in Ghazni. Here, his court poet, Chand Bardi, persuaded Mohammed Ghori to let the blind king display his archery skills. As Prithviraj notched his arrow, Chand Bardi sounded a gong directly behind the spot where Ghori stood. Prithviraj fired in that direction, killing Ghori instantly. He himself was stabbed to death by Chand Bardi, allowing him to die in a manner befitting a king.

The truth is different. Prithviraj was blinded and tortured to death by Mohammed Ghori shortly after his capture, and his body was buried at the entrance of Ghazni fort, where all who entered the fort could walk over it. Ghori himself died only in 1205, a full 14 years after the battle. But the legend remained and grew strong, and like many stories, became accepted as fact.

The facts were different. It was that Indian rulers could never really come together against a common foe. Their concepts of warfare and chivalry were antiquated. They relied on individual skill and courage, instead of modern tactics and doctrines. And in the end that were too busy battling each other instead of an outsider. That was the cause of the defeat and the centuries of subjugation that followed.

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