Shrimant Narayanrao Bhat: The Betrayed Peshwa
In the grand, sprawling narrative of the Maratha Confederacy, a story punctuated by epic battles, brilliant strategies, and formidable rulers, the chapter on Shrimant Narayanrao Bhat is a short, tragic, and blood-soaked interlude. His reign as the 10th Peshwa lasted a mere nine months, a fleeting moment in the annals of an empire. Yet, the manner of his death—a brutal assassination within the supposedly secure walls of his own palace, Shaniwar Wada—sent shockwaves through the subcontinent. It was an act of profound betrayal that not only extinguished a young life but also lit the fuse for a devastating civil war, inviting foreign intervention and hastening the decline of Maratha supremacy. Narayanrao is remembered not for the deeds of his life, but for the dark legacy of his death.
Early Life & Background
Born on August 10, 1755, Narayanrao was the third and youngest son of the 8th Peshwa, Balaji Baji Rao, also known as Nanasaheb. He entered a world where the saffron Maratha standard, the Bhagwa Dhwaj, flew from the Punjab in the north to the Carnatic in the south. His childhood, however, was lived under the long and devastating shadow of the Third Battle of Panipat (1761). In that single, catastrophic day, the Marathas lost not only the battle but also an entire generation of leadership. Narayanrao’s eldest brother, the promising heir Vishwasrao, was killed, and his father, Nanasaheb, died of overwhelming grief a few months later.
The mantle of the Peshwaship fell upon his second brother, Madhavrao I. A man of immense administrative talent, military prowess, and unbending integrity, Madhavrao I became Peshwa at the tender age of 16. He dedicated his reign to methodically rebuilding Maratha power and prestige from the ashes of Panipat. It was in the court of this brilliant, stern, and disciplined brother that Narayanrao was raised.
His education was befitting a prince of the ruling Bhat family: training in warfare, statecraft, and diplomacy. However, he grew up surrounded by the poisonous political intrigues that swirled within the Shaniwar Wada. The central conflict was the simmering ambition of his uncle, Raghunathrao, popularly known as Raghoba. A capable general but a deeply frustrated and power-hungry man, Raghunathrao had long coveted the Peshwa’s seat. He perpetually chafed under the authority of his young nephew, Madhavrao, leading to constant plots, rebellions, and reconciliations that kept the Pune court in a state of high tension.
Narayanrao, by contrast, was described as being of a more impetuous and hot-tempered nature, lacking the gravitas and foresight of Madhavrao. He was thrust onto the centre stage of Maratha politics far sooner than anyone had anticipated. In 1772, the great Madhavrao I, after a tireless reign, succumbed to tuberculosis at the age of just 27. His death was a profound loss for the Confederacy, and on December 13, 1772, a 17-year-old Narayanrao ascended the throne as the 10th Peshwa.
Accession and a Turbulent Reign
From the very beginning, Narayanrao's reign was fraught with difficulty. He inherited a resurrected empire, but he also inherited its deepest rivalries. His primary challenge was internal. His uncle, Raghunathrao, who had been placed under house arrest by Madhavrao for his constant plotting, expected to be released and appointed regent for the young Peshwa. However, influenced by his ambitious mother, Gopikabai, and powerful court figures like Nana Phadnavis and Sakharam Bapu Bokil, Narayanrao resolved to rule in his own right.
He not only denied Raghunathrao the regency but continued his house arrest within the Shaniwar Wada. This decision, while politically necessary to prevent his uncle from usurping power, sealed the animosity between them. The young Peshwa, in his attempts to assert authority, often came across as arrogant and dismissive, alienating seasoned members of the court and further inflaming his uncle's resentment.
His administration also faced other pressing issues. The state treasury, depleted by years of constant warfare, struggled to pay its soldiers. This was particularly true for the 'Gardis', a formidable corps of disciplined infantrymen trained by the French. These mercenaries, led by a commander named Sumer Singh Gardi, grew increasingly disgruntled over their unpaid salaries, creating a volatile and armed faction within the heart of the capital city, Pune.
Despite the internal turmoil, Narayanrao attempted to continue his brother's foreign policy, planning a campaign against Hyder Ali of Mysore, who was encroaching on Maratha territories in the south. But the viper's nest of intrigue at home would never allow him to focus on external threats. His short nine-month rule was almost entirely consumed by the power struggle with Raghunathrao, a conflict that was destined to end in tragedy.
The Assassination: A Dark Day in Shaniwar Wada
The conspiracy that ended Narayanrao's life was born of the festering bitterness of Raghunathrao and his equally ambitious wife, Anandibai. Confined to his quarters in the palace, Raghunathrao saw his lifelong dream of becoming Peshwa slipping away. He found willing accomplices in the disgruntled Gardi soldiers.
On August 30, 1773, during the chaotic final day of the Ganesh festival, the plot was set in motion. Raghunathrao dispatched a signed message to Sumer Singh Gardi, authorizing his men to take action. The most infamous, and historically persistent, detail of this conspiracy centres on a single, fateful alteration to this message. The original order, written in Marathi, is believed to have instructed the Gardis to seize or apprehend the Peshwa—the word used was dharave (धरावे). Legend holds that Anandibai intercepted this note and, with a single stroke of her pen, changed the first letter, altering the word to marave (मारावे)—to kill.
Whether this specific act of forgery occurred or not, the intent became murderous. As the festival celebrations wound down, Sumer Singh Gardi and his men stormed the Shaniwar Wada. They swiftly cut down the palace guards who remained loyal to the Peshwa and began hunting for him through the palace’s labyrinthine corridors.
Hearing the commotion, the terrified young Peshwa fled for his life. In a desperate, final act, he ran towards the one person he believed might save him: his uncle. Eyewitness accounts, immortalized in Marathi history, record his frantic cry echoing through the palace: "Kaka, mala vachva!" ("Uncle, save me!").
He burst into Raghunathrao’s chambers, clinging to his uncle for protection. It was a futile plea. The Gardis, led by a man named Tulaji Pawar, cornered him there. A loyal servant named Chapaji Tilekar threw himself in front of Narayanrao to shield him, but was cut down. In the presence of the very uncle he had begged for salvation, Shrimant Narayanrao was brutally hacked to pieces. His body, along with that of his servant, was unceremoniously disposed of and secretly cremated on the riverbank under the cover of darkness.
The next morning, Pune awoke to the horrifying news that their Peshwa was dead, and Raghunathrao, his uncle and jailer, had assumed power.
Legacy & Influence
The murder of Narayanrao was a political earthquake that cracked the very foundations of the Maratha Confederacy. It was not merely the death of a ruler; it was a heinous crime of kinslaying (bandhu-hatya) that shattered the moral legitimacy of the Peshwa's office.
The Barbhai Council and a Posthumous Heir: The Maratha nobility, led by the brilliant statesman Nana Phadnavis, refused to accept the murderer Raghunathrao as their leader. A powerful coalition of twelve ministers, known as the Barbhai Council (Council of Twelve Brothers), was formed to oppose him. Their cause was immeasurably strengthened by a crucial fact: at the time of his murder, Narayanrao’s wife, Gangabai, was pregnant. The council spirited her away from Pune to the safety of Purandar fort. On April 18, 1774, she gave birth to a son.
This infant was immediately declared the rightful heir and named Sawai Madhavrao (Madhavrao II). The title 'Sawai', meaning 'one and a quarter', was a symbolic declaration that he would be even greater than his revered uncle, Madhavrao I. The Barbhai Council would rule the empire as regents in the infant Peshwa's name.
The First Anglo-Maratha War: Deposed and furious, Raghunathrao fled. In a desperate bid to reclaim power, he committed an act of treason from which the Maratha Empire would never fully recover. He sought assistance from the British East India Company in Bombay. On March 6, 1775, he signed the Treaty of Surat, promising them the territories of Salsette and Bassein in exchange for military aid to install him as Peshwa. This treaty was the direct trigger for the First Anglo-Maratha War (1775-1782).
By inviting a foreign power to meddle in Maratha succession, Raghunathrao opened a Pandora's box. The war that followed was a long and draining conflict that, while ultimately a strategic stalemate, showcased the deep internal fractures of the Confederacy and gave the British an invaluable foothold in western India.
A Legacy of Decline: Shrimant Narayanrao's true legacy, therefore, is not his brief and ineffective reign, but the catastrophic consequences of his assassination. The ensuing civil war and the long conflict with the British drained the Maratha treasury, weakened its military, and sowed seeds of distrust among its chief sardars. The unity that had been so painstakingly rebuilt by Madhavrao I was irrevocably shattered. This moment of internal betrayal marked the beginning of the end of the Maratha age.
Today, Narayanrao is remembered as a tragic figure, a young ruler cut down by ambition and betrayal. His desperate cry of "Kaka, mala vachva!" has been etched into the collective memory of Maharashtra, a haunting symbol of misplaced trust. The magnificent ruins of Shaniwar Wada are, for many, forever haunted by the ghost of the murdered Peshwa, a testament to the dark day when the heart of the Maratha empire was torn apart from within.