THE Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ of Amīr Khusrau has often been referred to by the later historians of India. Sir Syed Aḥmad Khān has quoted it in the second volume of his Āsār-us-Sanādid and even Sir Henry Elliot has noticed it in the third volume of his History of India as told by her own Historians. But I doubt if in the six hundred years that have elapsed since its author’s death any one has cared to study the work with the care it deserves. Khusrau’s immortal reputation as the greatest of Indo-Persian poets, was founded essentially on his depth of feeling, his lyric gift and his supremely attractive personality. Scholar, mystic, philosopher, poet, soldier and politician, few people have been able to bring such diverse attributes together. It was the same with his poetry. He composed verses in Arabic, Hindi and Persian; and in the Persian language, to which the mass of his work belongs, he tried his hands at every kind of verse and every form of metre. He was a musician also, and in one of the lines quoted by Daulaṭ Shāh in his Tazkiratu’sh Shu’arā, Khusrau claims that his musical compositions, ‘if they could be written’, would be as voluminous as his verses. Many poets of equal eminence have lived in obscurity and want; but Khusrau was born to fame and had no difficulty in obtaining recognition from his contemporaries. Ziāuddīn Barnī, the historian, who knew Khusrau well, declared him to be ‘the greatest of all poets, ancient and modern; for whereas other poets had excelled in one or two forms of verse—the qitā’, the qasidā, the ghazal, the ruba’ī, or the masnavī—Khusrau was pre-eminent in all. Khusrau’s career was, moreover, as sustained as it was successful. He began his life as a courtier of Malik Chajju Yaghrish Khan, nephew of Sulṭān Ghiāsuddīn Balban. Jalāluddin Khiljī appointed him an officer of the empire, Mash’afdar (Quran keeper) and courtier—in fact, poet laureate—on his accession in 1290; and in spite of all revolutions and dynastic changes, Khusrau held this office till his death in 1325 A.D.
Khusrau’s prolific works include four Ḍiwāns, five metrical romances, five historical romances and two prose works. Two other small books are also attributed to him—the Khāliq Bārī, a versified Hindi-Persian vocabulary, and a brief summary of the conversations of Shaikh Nizāmuddin Auliā in simple and lucid prose. No Indo-Muslim writer has done more to provide livelihood for the poor copyists (kātibs) of the middle ages; voluminous though his works are, posterity has preserved them with sedulous care; and apart from the Khāliq Bārī and the Tughlaq Nama (which Khusrau did not live to revise and complete), they have survived in fairly good condition. Along with the rest, the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ has also been transcribed and retranscribed, though its form and contents were both calculated to drive away the ‘gentle reader’ who did not bring to his task a grave sense of duty and an irrepressible desire to unearth all historic facts, regardless of the time and labour the search might entail. Its manuscripts are not scarce, and as the text would have lost its value in the hands of a careless copyist, due care seems to have been always taken in transcribing it. The real difficulties of the Persian language apart, there are hardly three or four places where it is not possible to put the text right.
The present translation based on the Yule manuscript in the British Museum, was begun and completed by me in the year 1920-21, when, along with my friends, Mr. Abdur Rahman Siddiqi and Mr. Shuaib Qureshi, I was working as a research student under the supervision of Dr. D. S. Margoliouth at Oxford. The Yule manuscript is obviously a modern work and belongs to the early eighteenth century, but a note at the end of the text declares that ‘the original from which this manuscript has been copied was written eleven years after Amīr Khusrau’s death.’ On my return to India, my friend Mr. Hasan Barnī (Advocate, Bulandshahr) placed at my disposal a modern copy of the work which he had got transcribed for himself. I revised the translation with the help of my senior pupils, Mr. S. A. Rashid, Mr. Moinul Haq and Mr. Sultan Hameed. We did not find any substantial difference between the two manuscripts.
The difficulty of translating a book of ornate Persian like the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ can only be appreciated by those who have undertaken similar work. As I look back at the wearisome days and sleepless nights the prosecution of this work has entailed, I cannot help being grateful for the kind and ungrudging help of my revered teacher, Dr. D. S. Margoliouth. Many passages of the translation have been revised by him, and, though the responsibility for the defects is entirely mine, the completion of the task would not have been possible without his guidance and advice. It has been my privilege to sit at the feet of such a master.
In dividing the work into chapters and paragraphs, I have, so far as possible, followed Khusrau’s own lead. In the manuscript the paragraphs and chapter headings, mostly in verse, are written in red ink. Most paragraphs have also been given a verse-heading to tell the reader what allusion and similes he is to look for; I have transferred these verse-headings to the footnotes. Translation of Persian verses has throughout been put in italics.
I have tried to make the translation as accurate as possible and in the attempt to be accurate, I have tried to be as literal as the different forms and traditions of the English and the Persian languages permit. But a literal translation sometimes gives to the English reader an impression which the author never intends, and in such cases I have considered it my duty to translate the ideas of the author rather than his words. It must also be confessed that a number of Khusrau’s verbal tricks or ‘miracles’, puns on words and letters, and scholastic allusions, are absolutely untranslatable, and no good purpose would have been served by a very clumsy translation buttressed by wearisome and uninteresting footnotes. Some of these ‘miracles’ have perforce been omitted, while I have attempted to translate the rest in such manner as was possible. One of the good points of Khusrau’s work is the plentiful dates it contains. In the Persian text, the date is first embodied in a chronogram and is then explained in a simple verse which gives the day, month and year. I have omitted the chronogram and merely translated the date.
I am grateful to Dr. S. Krishnaswami Aiyangar for his scholarly introduction on the historical aspects of the work. The literary character of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ was examined by me in the Introduction to my friend, Mr. Moinul Haq’s edition of the Persian text. It is transcribed here for the reader of the English translation:—
‘Poetry was Amīr Khusrau’s mother-tongue; prose he wrote with difficulty and effort and he would have been well advised to leave that region of literature to more pedestrian intellects. But it was not to be expected that such a consideration would serve to check his exuberant genius. Apart from the introductions to his Ḍiwāns, two of his prose-works, differing in volume and value, have survived. The first, I’jāz-i-Khusravi (Miracles of Khusrau) is a long work in five volumes on figures of speech.viiia It contains every variety of miracle known to the penmen of the age—petitions to high officers composed of vowels only, verses which are Persian if read from right to left, and Arabic if read from left to right, compositions from which all letters with dots are excluded, and many such artificialities of wit and style which may have delighted and consoled the author’s contemporaries, but fail to attract our modern taste. Some of the letters included in the volumes have a solid historical value. An application to a government officer requesting for a post or complaining against the misbehaviour of neighbours was sure to attract attention if drafted by Khusrau; and the poet was too inventive not to have a new ‘miracle’ ready for every occasion. It is easy to understand that supplicants flocked to his door.viiib He seems also to have beguiled his leisure hours in discovering new literary tricks and often sent them as presents to his friends. The I’jāz-i-Khusravi is the accumulated mass of these miraculous prose compositions which Amīr Khusrau had been amassing for years and edited in the later part of Alāuddīn’s reign. Most of the pieces are tiresome and frivolous, but others throw a brilliant light on the social life of the day. Amīr Khusrau’s second prose-work, the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is the official history of Alāuddīn’s campaigns.
‘Amīr Khusrau was a man of wit and humour. His fancies are often brilliant. Nevertheless nothing but a stern sense of duty will induce a modern reader to go through Khusrau’s prose-works in the original. His style is artificial in the extreme; the similes and metaphors are sometimes too puerile for a school-boy; at other places the connecting link between the ideas (if present at all) is hard to discover. Prose is the natural speech of man for ordinary occasions, but Amīr Khusrau’s ideas seem to have come to him in a versified form. So while his poetry has all the beauties of an excellent prose, his prose has all the artificiality of very bad verse; it is jejune, insipid, tasteless and wearisome.
‘Failing to realise that the true beauty of prose lies in its being simple, direct and effective, he tries to surprise his readers by a new trick at every turn, attacks him with words the meaning of which he is not likely to know, or offers him metaphors and similes calculated to shock and disgust. His one desire is to convince the reader of his own mental power and in this, so far as contemporaries were concerned, he certainly succeeded. But Amīr Khusrau, for all his artistic talents, never comprehended that a book of prose, like a volume of verse, should be a thing of beauty and of joy.
‘The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ very well illustrates the general character of Khusrau’s prose. It is divided into small paragraphs; every paragraph has a heading informing the reader what allusions he is going to find in the next few lines. A single example will suffice. “Allusions to water. If the stream of my life was given the good news of eternal existence, even then I would not offer the thirsty and drink except the praises of the Second Alexander.ixa But as I find that human life is such that in the end we have to wash our hands off it, the fountain of words will only enable the reader to moisten his lips. Since the achievement of my life-time, from the cradle to the grave, cannot be more than this, I did not think it proper to plunge to the bottom of endless oceans, but have contented myself with a small quantity of the water of life.” And so it goes on, wearisome and artificial, from beginning to end.
‘It is obvious that such a procedure detracted much from the value of an historical work. Only such facts could be stated as permitted Khusrau to bring in the allusion; the rest could be only partially stated or had to be suppressed; Khusrau’s only resource was to make his paragraphs as small as possible, otherwise his prose would have marched along routes quite different from those selected by Alāuddīn’s generals. The reader, who wishes to discover the true historical fact, has first to analyse Khusrau’s literary tricks and critically separate the element of fact from the colouring imparted to it by Khusrau in order to bring in the allusions. At times the literary tricks induces us to ignore the fact at the bottom. “Allusion to virtue and vice—Though the giving of water (to the thirsty) is one of the most notable virtues of this (pure-minded) Emperor, yet he has removed wine and all its accompaniments from vicious assemblies; for wine the daughter of grape and the sister of sugar, is the mother of all wickedness. And wine on her part, has washed herself with salt and sworn that she will henceforth remain in the form of vinegar, freeing herself from all evils out of regard for the claims of salt.”xa
‘This would have appeared a mere literary flourish if we had not been definitely told by Ziāuddin Bārni, that Alāuddīn carried through a series of harsh measures for the suppression of drinking in Delhi. Conversely, the allusion may have no basis of fact at all. “Allusions to sea and rain—The sword of the righteous monarch completely conquered the province (Gujrat). Much blood was shed. A general invitation was issued to all the beasts and birds of the forest to a continuous feast of meat and drink. In the marriage banquet, at which the Hindus were sacrificed, animals of all kinds ate them to their satisfaction.” This would seem to indicate a general and intentional massacre. But there was no such massacre, and Khusrau himself goes on to assure us: “My object in this simile is not real blood but (only to show) that the sword of Islam purified the land as the sun purifies the earth.” The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ has to be interpreted with care, and in the light of other contemporary material, it would be dangerous and misleading to accept Khusrau’s accounts at their face value. Still the labour of interpretation is well repaid by the new facts we discover.
‘The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ naturally falls into six parts—the introduction, administrative reforms and public works, campaigns against the Mongols, the conquest of Hindustan, the campaign of Warangal and the campaign of Ma’bar. The space devoted to the various sections is surprisingly unequal. About two-third of the book is devoted to the Warangal and Ma’bar campaigns, while the other measures of Alāuddīn’s reign are summarized in the remaining third. The reason for this is, perhaps, not impossible to discover. A remark of Barni (Tarikh-i-Firoz-Shahi, page 361) seems to throw light on the real character of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ as well as the Tarikh-i-Feroz-Shahi. “The other great historian of the time (of Sultan Alāuddīn) was Kabīruddīn, son of Tajuddīn Irāqi. In the art of composition, eloquence and advice, he exceeded his own and Alāuddīn’s contemporaries, and became the Amir-i-dad-i lashkar in place of his revered father. He was held in great honour by Alāuddīn. He has displayed wonders in Arabic and Persian prose. In the Fath-i Nama (Book of Victory) which consists of several volumes, he does honour to the traditions of prose and seems to surpass all writers, ancient and modern. But of all the events of Alāuddīn’s reign, he has confined himself to a narration of the Sultan’s conquests; these he has praised with exaggeration and adorned with figures of speech, and he has departed from the tradition of those historians who relate the good as well as the bad actions of every man. And as he wrote the history of Alāuddīn during that Sultan’s reign and every volume of it was presented to the Sultan, it was impossible for him to refrain from praising that terrible king or to speak of anything but his greatness.”
‘So Amīr Khusrau, though the poet-laureate, was not the court-historian of Alāuddīn Khilji; that honour belonged to Kabīruddīn who was considered to be the greatest prose writer of the day. The official history by which Alāuddīn expected to be remembered by posterity was not the thin volume of Amīr Khusrau but the ponderous Fath-i Nama which was prepared under the Sultan’s personal supervision. The Fath-i Nama has disappeared; its manuscripts may have been intentionally destroyed during Timur’s invasions or under the early Moghul Emperors, for it must have been full of contempt and hatred for the Mongol barbarians;xia Ferishta and other later historians do not refer to it and its great length would, in any case, have made its preservation difficult. But Barni and Khusrau had the Fath-i Nama before them and accommodated their histories to it. Barni, who was essentially a man of civil life, allowed Kabīruddīn to speak of Alāuddīn’s conquests, and confined his own history to an account of administrative and political affairs, merely adding a paragraph on the campaigns here and there for the logical completeness of his work. Amīr Khusrau was more ambitious. He pitted himself against Kabīruddīn’s great, if transient, reputation and on Kabīruddīn’s own chosen ground. Hitherto his pen, “like a tire-woman, had generally curled the hair of her maidens in verse,” but it would now bring “pages of prose for the high festival.” Let not critics dismiss him as a mere poet, living in a mock paradise and incapable of describing the affairs of government and war. If he had wings to fly, he had also feet to walk. He would even surpass Kabīruddīn, whom shallow critics considered “the greatest of all prosaists, ancient and modern.” He would excel in all that Kabīruddīn had excelled. The four virtues (or defects) which Barnī deploringly attributes to Kabīruddīn are all painfully present in Khusrau’s work—an artificial style adorned with figures of speech, an exclusive devotion to wars and conquests, the elimination of all facts that were not complimentary to Alāuddīn, and, lastly, an exaggerated flattery of the Sultan. In the Panj Gunj Khusrau had imitated the Khamsah of Nizāmī and walked as far as possible in his predecessor’s foot-steps. It was a mistake, but he repeated it once more in the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ. We do not see Khusrau’s prose in its natural dress; it is draped and disfigured into an imitation of Kabīruddīn’s extinct composition. For Amīr Khusrau, if a scholar, was also a courtier, and a courtier is devoted to the fashion of the passing hour. The fashion had been set by Kabīruddīn and his predecessors. Khusrau blindly followed it.
‘The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is not merely a challenge to the Fath-i Nama of Kabīruddīn; it is also a continuation of that work. Barnī seems to imply that Kabīruddīn was a survivor from the preceding age and he may not have lived to complete his voluminous work. If so, the disproportionate length of the Deccan campaigns in the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ becomes intelligible. The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is essentially a history of the Deccan invasions. Alāuddīn may have asked Khusrau to continue Kabīruddīn’s work, but Khusrau’s introductory remarks make it probable that he wrote on his own initiative and expected the Sultan to accept it as the official account of the reign. The Fath-i Nama had made a detailed description of the earlier events unnecessary, and Khusrau merely summarises them to enable his book to stand on its own feet. But the Deccan campaigns are given in detail, probably after the manner of the extinct Fath-i Nama.
‘Amīr Khusrau wished his work to be an official account of Alāuddīn’s reign and the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ has, consequently, all the merits and defects of a government publication. It credits Alāuddīn with every variety of virtue and power, and his officers also come in for their due share. All governments live on lies or, at least, a partial suppression of truth. But Amīr Khusrau’s hyperbolic exaggerations are less deceptive and dangerous than the insidious propaganda of modern governments. His flattery neither deceived nor was intended to deceive; it was simply a current fashion and nobody attached any significance to such words. Exaggeration is not a commendable habit, but understand it as a habit and it will no longer veil the true meaning of the author.
‘Ziāuddin Barni complains that Kabīruddīn simply confined himself to those events which were creditable to Alāuddīn. This is certainly true of Khusrau’s work. He will not utter a lie but neither will he speak “the truth and the whole truth”. On the 16th Ramzan, 695 (July 9, 1296 A.D.) Sultan Jalāluddīn was assassinated on the bank of the Ganges by the order of Alāuddīn Khiljī, who was the Governor of Karrā. It was an atrocious murder but Amīr Khusrau simply ignores it. “As Providence had ordained that this Muslim Moses was to seize their powerful swords from all infidel Pharoahs … he mounted the throne on Wednesday, 16th Ramzan, 695 A.H.” What else was there to say. He was not brave enough to defend his murdered patron nor mean enough to blacken his character after his death. He simply turned away his eyes. Similar omissions strike us in the chapter on the Mongols. Nothing is said of the campaigns in which Alāuddīn’s armies were defeated. The Mongols twice besieged Delhi and Alāuddīn’s position was extremely critical.xiiia But Khusrau has not even indirectly alluded to these momentous events. We are able to make up for some of the omissions with the help of Barni and other historians, but it is difficult to be certain that all the gaps have been filled up.
‘In spite of these serious shortcomings, the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is for the critical student, a book of solid worth. Amīr Khusrau exaggerates and we can make allowance for his exaggerations. He leaves blanks which other historians enable us to fill up. But he is too honest and straightforward to speak a lie, and we can safely rely upon his word. He is exact in details and dates and enables us to make a fairly complete chronology of Alāuddīn’s reign.xiiib In spite of the artificiality of his style, his descriptions have vivid touches of an eye-witness. As a soldier he felt quite at home in military affairs, in the construction of siege-engines and the tactics of the battle-field. A careful examination of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ will enable us to obtain a fairly good idea of the art of war in the early middle ages. Even where he tells us nothing new, he serves to confirm the accounts of others. He did not sit and brood in a corner. He mingled with the highest and the greatest in the land, and when he took up his pen, it was to write with a first hand knowledge of affairs. The sections on the Deccan campaigns are a permanent contribution to Indian historical literature. Nor is the element of romance absent, whatever we may think of the motives of the invaders, long and heroic marches across “paths more uneven than a camel’s back,” temples plundered, Rajas subdued and the hoarded wealth of centuries brought at a sweepstake to the terrible Sultan of Delhī. It was a mad dance of rapine, ambition and death. “The Hindu rawats came riding in troops but were laid low before the Turkish horses. A deluge of water and blood flowed forward in order to plead for mercy before the Caliph’s troops. Or, you may have said that owing to the great happiness of the infidel souls, the beverage of blood was so delicious that every time the cloud rained water over it, the ferocious earth drank it up with the greatest pleasure. But in spite of the great intoxicating power of this wine, the saqi poured her clear liquid out of the flagon of the sky to increase its intoxication further. Out of this wine and beverage Death had manufactured her first delicious draught. Next you saw bones on the Earth.”
‘If Amīr Khusrau had been writing in the age of the Puranas, he would have represented Alāuddīn as an incarnation of Vishṇu and described his opponents as malicious demons. That is how the Aryans blackened the character of their enemies and justified their aggression. A modern writer would have to white-wash the same cruelties by talking of liberty, justice, the duty of elevating backward races and, with solemn unconscious humour, advanced the most humane arguments to justify the inhumanities of war. But Amīr Khusrau was not a hypocrite; he saw life through plain glasses and the traditions of his day made hypocrisy unnecessary. The Deccan expeditions had one clear object—the acquisition of horses, elephants, jewels, gold and silver. Why tell lies? The Mussalmans had not gone there on a religious mission; they had neither the time nor the inclination to enrol converts and they were too good soldiers to let irrelevant considerations disturb their military plans. Of course the name of God was solemnly pronounced. The invaders built mosques wherever they went and the call to prayer resounded in many a wilderness and many a desolated town. This was their habit. Of anything like an idealistic, even a fanatic, religious mission the Deccan invasions were completely innocent.
‘But it would be a serious mistake to interpret the political movements of those days in the light of modern national feeling or the religious enthusiasm of the early Saracens. The fundamental social and political principle of the Middle ages was loyalty to the salt. It overrode all racial, communal and religious considerations. The Raja’s Muslim servants followed him against the Sultan just as the Sultan’s Hindu servants followed him against the Raja; neither felt any inner contradiction between their religion and their life. Loyalty to the salt (namak halālī) was synonymous with patriotism; disloyalty to the salt (namak harāmī) was a crime blacker than treason. Irrational as the principle may seem, it prevented communal friction and worked for peace. Conversely, for the ruler all his subjects stood on an equal footing. The Hindu subjects of a neighbouring Raja were the proper and inviting objects of a holy war. But not so the Sultan’s own Hindu subjects. They were under his protection and his prosperity depended upon their prosperity. Learned writers may call them zimmis (payers of tribute) in books of religious law. But men of practical affairs knew the ground they stood on and the power of the mass of the people. The temples in the Sultan’s dominions were perfectly safe. “It is not permissible to injure a temple of long standing” was the fatwa (judgment) of a Qazi in the reign of Sikandar Lodi, and it undoubtedly expresses medieval Muslim sentiment on the matter. The Sultan could prohibit the building of a new temple or mosque, though, apart from occasionl vagaries, the right was rarely exercised; but the destruction of a standing temple is seldom, if ever, heard of. It was, however, different with a temple standing in the dominion of another ruler; it had no Imperial guarantee to protect it and could be plundered with impunity, because its devotees were not the Sultan’s subjects and their disloyalty and sufferings could do him no harm. The outlook of the age was essentially secular. Religion was a war cry and nothing more.
‘A superficial reader of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ might be inclined to think it inspired by bigotry and fanaticism. But this would be a serious error. Amīr Khusrau’s religious outlook was singularly tolerant; an examination of his Diwāns can leave no other impression on the critic’s mind. Even in the most bitter expressions of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ, there is a veiled suggestion. Of what? “So the temple of Somnath was made to bow towards the Holy Mecca, and as the temple lowered its head and jumped into the sea, you may say the building first said its prayers and then had a bath. The idols, that had fixed their abode midway to the House of Abraham (Mecca) and way-laid stragglers, were broken to pieces in pursuance of Abraham’s traditions. But one idol, the greatest of them all, was sent by the maliks to the Imperial Court, so that the breaking of their helpless god may be demonstrated to the idol-worshipping Hindus.” “They saw a building (the temple of Barmatpuri) old and strong as the infidelity of Satan, and enchanting like the allurements of worldly life. You might say it was the Paradise of Shadād, which after being lost, those hellites had found, or that it was the golden Lankā of Rām… The foundations of this golden temple, which was the ‘holy-place’ of the Hindus, were dug up with the greatest care. The glorifiers of God broke the infidel building, so that ‘spiritual birds’ descended down like pigeons from the air. The ‘ears’ of the wall opened at the sound of the spade. At its call the sword also raised its head from the scabbard, and the heads of Brahmans and idol-worshippers came dancing to their feet at the flashes of the sword. The golden bricks rolled down and brought with them their plaster of sandal-wood; the yellow gold became red with blood and the white sandal turned scarlet. The sword flashed where the jewels had once been sparkling; where mire used to be created by rose water and musk, there was now a mud of blood and dirt; the saffron-coloured doors and walls assumed the colour of bronze; the stench of blood was emitted by ground once fragrant with musk. And at this smell the men of Faith were intoxicated and the men of Infidelity ruined.”
‘Is this the trumpet-call of an aggressive and bloated fanaticism or the excruciating melody of the tragic muse? Was Amīr Khusrau praising the idol-breakers or bewailing their lack of true faith? It must not be forgotten that a courtier presenting an official history to the Sultan had no freedom either of opinion or speech; and Amīr Khusrau emphatically expresses his willingness to recast his book according to the Sultan’s wishes. But as Mohammed ibn-i Khawend Shah (Mirkhond), the author of Rauzatus Safa, remarks: “the official historian should by hints, insinuations, overpraise and such other devices as may come to hand, never fail to express his true opinion, which, while remaining undetected by his illiterate patron, is sure to be understood by the intelligent and the wise.” Amīr Khusrau had no liking for Malik Naib Kafur-i Sultani whom he abuses in the Dewal Rani, and his keen sense for the religious and poetic elements in life could not but revolt against the senseless vandalism of the Deccan campaigns. Hence the ghastly realism of his sketches. He may, or may not, have wept tears of blood over the fall of an ancient civilization; but his mode of expression leaves little doubt that the greed of gain and not the service of the Lord was the inspiring motive of the invaders. One thing alone was clear after the day of stormy battle: “You saw bones on the Earth.”’
| NILI CHATRI, ALIGARH | MUHAMMAD HABIB |
| May 27, 1931 |
THE Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ of Amīr Khusrau, of which the following pages contain a more or less complete translation by Professor Md. Habib of the Muslim University, Aligarh, is perhaps historically the most important work of Amīr Khusrau. As Professor Habib points out in the course of the translation itself, and in a life of Amīr Khusrau written by him and published by Messrs. Taraporevala Sons & Co., Bombay, the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is a prose work of a rather peculiar character. Khusrau finds his natural element in poetry, and the writing of prose to him was a work of effort; and, as in the case of the Sanskrit writer Bāṇa, this prose composition is a tour de force intended to exhibit the literary strength of the author, rather than one intended to give pleasure to the reader as a work of art, or to convey information in an easily understandable form. As a work of history therefore, it might seem at first sight to be of comparatively less value than works of a similar character by other authors in Persian. Allowing for all the drawbacks that its literary character carries along with it, the work of Professor Habib exhibits it still as a valuable source of history much as recent research has done in respect of the Harshacharita of Bāṇa.
There is another defect in this work of Amīr Khusrau from the point of view of the student of history. Like so much else that we are possessed of in Indian literature, this work belongs to the class of panegyrics intended for the eye and the ear of the patron whose achievements form the subject of the composition. It has to dwell naturally upon the creditable achievements of the patrons concerned, and pass lightly over that which is not exactly to the glory of the hero. This, of course, would naturally make it very defective as a historical composition pure and simple. But even so, while it may be dangerous to draw inferences from the silence of the author in regard to particulars, it could still contain much that is of value, sometimes even of very high value, in what it does actually state explicitly. As the learned Professor points out, there are very prominent omissions in this work, such as the invasions of the Mughals, which reached the capital and made its position one for great anxiety. Such events are passed over; and so similarly a few others of the incidents in the reign of Allāuddin are barely alluded to or even completely passed over, as Professor Habib takes occasion to point out in his notes. Notwithstanding these defects, the comparison instituted by Professor Habib in the course of his notes shows that the presentation of historical material in the work is all to the advantage of Amīr Khusrau’s composition which seems really to have been the source from which later historians, including even Amīr Khusrau’s younger contemporary Barni, largely drew. While in particulars these later works serve the purpose of illuminating commentaries on various parts of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ, yet in respect of several of the important historical events described, correctness and historical probability seem to lie undoubtedly with Amīr Khusrau. The work thus forms typical of a class, not merely of Persian but of Indian works generally, from which historical material of the highest value can be drawn by a careful, critical scholar, notwithstanding the peculiar literary features which make them fall short of being pure history.
It is hardly necessary in this introduction, for which I am indebted to Professor Habib’s esteem and personal regard for me, that I should be traversing the field already so well covered by him. I might take advantage of it to consider the details of the southern campaigns in particular, which remained obscure till within recent times, and which I took it upon myself to expound, with the imperfect material at my disposal at the time, in my Lectures to the University of Madras, on South India and Her Muhammadan Invaders, Lectures 3 and 4. This work, Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ was then available only in the abridged translation given in volume III of Elliot’s History of India as told by her own Historians. A comparative reading would indicate the corrections made by Professor Habib, and there is the additional advantage of having the whole work before us in an excellent edition by the learned Professor. Without undervaluing Elliot’s work in the slightest degree, we may say that there are numbers of places in which the work of Sir Henry Elliot needed amendment.
Amīr Khusrau devotes the first two chapters to the accession and the administrative acts of the reign of Allāuddin, and, as the Professor has pointed out, he has no word to say in condemnation of the atrocious deed by which Allāuddin ascended the throne. But all praise is given to Allāuddin for the administrative measures, several of which do deserve praise from the point of view of the good results produced. In respect of the Mughal invasions, the same shortcoming appears, as is pointed out. It is the invasions that redounded to the credit of Allāuddin and his generals that are described in detail in chapter III. Those that are likely to be less creditable are barely alluded to, or passed over completely. Chapter IV is devoted to the conquest of Western Hindustan, Rajaputana, Malva and Gujarat, and as a next step forward, the invasion of Deogiri. Chapter V is devoted to the campaign of Arangal (Warangal), and chapter VI the campaign in Ma’bar with which this work of Amīr Khusrau is brought to a close. As a matter of fact more than half the work is devoted to the two southern invasions, the invasions of Arangal and Ma’bar, and it may be said that they constitute the primary episodes in this epic of Allāuddin’s. Even Barni, whose account is by far the most useful and the most valuable so far, suffers somewhat from the want of details, as Barni was not anxious to dilate upon the wars and conquests of Allāuddin. It is this work, and we may almost say practically this work alone, that gives a detailed description of these invasions and provides a satisfactory scheme of chronology without which the campaigns can hardly be understood. In the campaigns described in chapter IV against the four places, Gujarat, Rajaputana, Malva and Deogiri, the account given in the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is supplemented by what is found in the Dawal Rani of Amīr Khusrau himself, and by passages translated from the recently published text of Barni. This makes the account as complete and satisfactory as, in our present position with regard to the historical material available, we are entitled to expect. The invasion of Deogiri, and the putting of Ram Deo under tribute as a result of the invasion, the capture of the Gujarat princess Dawal Devi are all described, and the episode is concluded with the restoration of Ram Deo to his territory with perhaps something added to it, as indicating the initiation of what may be regarded as a new policy by Allāuddin of maintaining Hindu rulers in their position, provided they agreed to remain under tribute to the empire. The invasion of Arangal therefore can now be undertaken with the certainty that, in Deogiri, there was a staunch ally, who could be depended upon for such support and assistance as may be required by the invading army.
The army of invasion left Delhi for Warangal on the 25th Jamādīul Awwal 709 A.H., corresponding to Friday, October 31, 1309. After nine days’ march, the invading army arrived at a place called Masudpur on the 6th Jamādīus Ṯānī, corresponding to Monday, November 19, or Tuesday the 11th according as we take the week-day or the date as the correct one. The march lay through uneven country of mountains and hills, full of brambles and bushes. In fact it had to thread its way through a forest country. After six days of such marching, crossing five rivers, Jun, Chambal, Kunwari, Binas and Bhoji at the fords, the army arrived at Sultanpur, otherwise called Irijpur, where it halted for four days. It broke camp again on the 19th of the Jamādīus Ṯānī, corresponding to Monday, November 24, 1309, and it had to pass through mountainous country again and through rough roads. After thirteen days of arduous marching, the army arrived at Khanda on the 1st Rajab (5th December 1309). Here a muster of the army was taken lasting fourteen days. They apparently stayed there longer; the month of God, as it was called, was spent there in camp, and the camp broke late in the month as Amīr Khusrau says, the morning ‘after the fast of Mary’. Again it had to march through rivers and forests and the great river Narmada itself had to be crossed. Eight days after crossing the Narmada, the army reached a place called Nīlkanth on the border of Deogiri, the territory of Ram Deo. They made a halt of two days in the place to make enquiries as to the most convenient route by which to march onwards to Warangal. The march began on the 26th Rajab, corresponding to Wednesday, December 31, 1309, or Tuesday the 30th. It again was a march of sixteen days through difficult roads. They had not yet come to the country of Tilang. They were still on the road to Tilang according to Amīr Khusrau. They arrived at the end of their arduous journey at a doab within the borders of which was Basīrāgarh. This is described as enclosed betwen two rivers Yashar and Buji. A diamond mine is said to have existed here. From here Mālik Kāfūr, at the head of a body of select horse marched against the fort of Sarbar, which belonged to the kingdom of Tilang. This fort offered stout resistance, and was not taken till the defenders performed the rite of jauhār and offered desperate defence. This was ultimately overcome, and a brother, Anārīr, of the chief was put in charge of the fort. Apparently the rest of the army had joined by now, and the march was resumed on Saturday, the 10th of Sha‘bān, corresponding to Tuesday, January 1310, if the 10th of Sha‘bān is taken as correct, or Saturday, the 7th if Saturday is to be taken as correct, and on the 16th of the month the army arrived at the village called Kūnarbal. An advance party of a thousand cavalry was sent forward to make a reconnaissance and capture some from whom information could be got. From Amīr Khusrau’s description Kūnarbal must have been quite close to Warangal as, after getting some information, the whole army was able to occupy the hill of Anamkonda from which they could see the ‘gardens of Arangal’. A camp was erected for the army on the 15th of Sha‘bān in front of the fort, and arrangements were made for laying siege to the fort itself. Each tumān (division of a ten thousand) of the army was assigned 12 hundred yards round the Fort, and, according to Amīr Khusrau, the total circumference of the fort was 12,546 yards. This would mean that the invading army was over 100,000 in number. After a difficult siege lasting for a considerable period of time with night attacks and counter attacks, the enemy was overcome, and the outer fort was taken after effecting a breach 100 yards wide. On Tuesday, the 11th Rajab, the storming attack began. On Sunday, the 13th Rajab, really Sunday, February 14, 1310, an impression was made upon the mud walls and by the following Wednesday the mud wall was broken through and the inner fort was in turn besieged. While this siege was in progress, Rai Ludder Dev (Prataparudra Deva II) sent to offer terms, and the terms were accepted. After taking a very large amount of treasure given by the Raja together with the elephants, horses and such other war equipment, the Raja was put under tribute in accordance with the instructions of Allāuddin, and the invading army could now return. The return march began on 16th Shawwāl, corresponding to Thursday, March 19, 1310, and turned homewards towards the capital. The whole of the month Ẓil Ḥijja, the month following Shawwāl, is said to have been spent in crossing extensive forests. On the 11th of the following month, Muḥarram A.H. 710, the army reached Delhi. This would be Wednesday, the 10th of June 1310, the total return march having occupied therefore two months and 25 days. Allāuddin held a great durbar in Chautr-i-Nāṣiri on Tuesday, the 24th of Muḥarram, Tuesday, 23rd June 1310. That is according to Amīr Khusrau, the topography and the chronology of the invasion.
The first question that would naturally arise from out of it is what is actually the route taken by the invasion. There is a lead that Amīr Khusrau gives us to determine this point. An invading army starting from Delhi towards the south can choose a number of routes; but, having regard to the fact that the objective here was Telingana, the road taken would naturally be the shortest possible route for this particular objective. An invasion of Telingana, which Amīr Khusrau does not mention, by way of Bengal had turned out to be a failure. So the extreme eastern route is to be taken to have been altogether avoided. The readiest route would be the road going through Bharatpur, Biana, Kota southwards straight to Nagda, the present day railway station, from which there are straight roads to Ujjain and to Dhar, and across the Narmada to the south.
But this route is barred by the consideration that in that part of the journey before Narmada they had to do nine days of marching to reach Mas‘ūdpūr, wherever it was, and it took another six days of very arduous marching crossing five rivers by the fords till at least Irijpur or Sultanpur could be reached. Without knowing where Mas‘ūdpūr lay and what Irijpur or Sultanpur is we could hardly settle this route of march. Mas‘ūdpūr was reached actually nine days after leaving Delhi. That must mean about a hundred to hundred and fifty miles from Delhi. We shall have to locate the place Mas‘ūdpūr somewhere about the region of Bharatpur. It is after reaching Mas‘ūdpūr that the five rivers had to be crossed. So taking that alone into consideration we would not perhaps be wrong in locating the town somewhere near about Bharatpur. The first river crossed is the river Jun. That seems to be the river that passes through Biana to fall into the Jumna, one of its streams being called Banganga, and the other river Gambhir flowing into it, and passing through Biana, not very far from the south of Bharatpur on the road. The next river crossed is given as the river Chambal. Chambal could be crossed over a very great length, and that may not give us anything like a definite lead as to the actual road. The next river is the river Kunwāri. This river luckily happens to be a tributary of the river Chambal, and is of comparatively much shorter length, and therefore its crossing, limits the length through which we shall have to look for the road. Therefore the army could not have taken even the high road leading from Muttra through Bharatpur, Gangapur and Kota to Jhalrapatam and Sitamau. We have to look for the route of this invasion farther to the east of this road. It seems to take us towards Gwalior. Therefore the invading army might have marched through Bharatpur, or might have avoided it and taken the Agra route, proceeding to Dholpur and Gwalior. In the course of this march and before reaching Gwalior, the army would have crossed the three rivers Jun, Chambal and Kunwāri. It is on the road between Gwalior and Sultanpur-Irijpur, that the other two rivers must have been crossed, the two rivers Binas, as it is given there by Amīr Khusrau, and Bhoji. Sir Henry Elliot gives different readings and takes what is written Kunwāri by Amīr Khusrau to be the equivalent of Kuari, which seems quite correct. What he wrote as Beas seems to be, according to the reading of Prof. Habib, Binas. It makes no difference; probably it is the river Sindhu, which must have been crossed, the eastern Sindhu, not the Kali-Sindhu in Rajputana. Elliot therefore is probably right in his identification. But the next river is given as Bhoji, according to the reading of Professor Habib. It was read Bashuji by Elliot, though he gives the alternative Bhoji. Bhoji seems really the correct reading; but what is the river called Bhoji? Elliot of course makes the suggestion that it must be the Bethwa; but was it called Bhoji that Amīr Khusrau could be so specific about its name? It is very likely that, at the time that Amīr Khusrau was writing, it had the name Bhoji, because it was by damming the upper course of this river that the great Bhojpur Lake near Bhopal had been formed; and, while the large lake was still in existence, it is very probable that the stream that brought the superfluous waters of the lake was called Bhoji at least by the people. So it leaves but little room to doubt that the Bhoji river here is the Bethwa and nothing else. Having crossed these, Sultanpur or Irijpur was reached by the army. The road taken therefore seems to be the railway road of to-day along which to a considerable part of it one sees a road also following. It would mean Gwalior, crossing the Sindhu, Jhansi, and from Jhansi crossing the Bethwa to Lalitpur, Etawa, Bhilsa and Bhopal. That is how the railroad passes. Probably there was a road going down that way at least with the possibility of a military road at that time. Six days’ march from not far south of Bharatpur through very difficult roads could not have amounted to more than a hundred miles at the outside, and that would bring us to somewhere near Bhilsa. Bhilsa or Bhopal would mean very near three degrees of latitude. It is somewhere about that region, it may be a little more to the north than Bhilsa itself, that we shall have to locate Sultanpur or Irijpur at. One is able to see nothing corresponding to it on the maps, unless we take it to be Sagar; but that is going too far east for the purposes of a march towards Warangal. Bhopal would be going a little far too south, and would perhaps put it beyond the actual point reached. Barni mentions Chanderi as the place where the muster of the army was held, and where the auxiliaries from Hindustan came and joined the main army. It is just possible that the halt of four days at Sultanpur was due to this cause, and Chanderi or region near about was either Irijpur or Sultanpur. But then Chanderi could be reached without crossing the Bethwa; but a route could be taken which necessitated the crossing of the Bethwa to reach Chanderi. Somewhere about that region therefore would be Sultanpur-Irijpur. There is a place marked Babina about 12 to 15 miles of Gwalior wherefrom you can take a small road to Chanderi without crossing the Bethwa. If on the contrary the high road to Lalitpur be taken, one has to cross the Bethwa before long. At Talbahat on this road, a smaller road branches off to Chanderi crossing the Bethwa again. This probably was the road taken.
There is a four days’ halt provided at Sultanpur in Amīr Khusrau’s account, which might well have been utilised for the purpose indicated in the narrative of Barni. Another thirteen days’ march brought them to Khanda, in all probability the railway junction Kandwa across the Narmada, which it reached on December 5, 1309. The route taken from Chanderi probably was the familiar route of those days towards Sarangpur, thence to Ujjain, thence to Dhar and across farther, while it was open for the army to have taken the route from Sarangpur, perhaps to Indore, and thence across by way of Mandhāta to Kandwa. There they made a great halt, and spent the time of the fast of Mary (Mariam) leaving the place the day after the fast. It took eight days’ march after crossing the Narmada at Mandhāta to reach a place called Nīlkanṭh on the frontier of Deogiri. This place must be somewhere near the river Tapti, the road taking the army through Aṣīrgarh and Burhanpur towards the railway junction of Jalgaom, not very far from Nandurbar, the frontier station of the kingdom of Ram Deo, over which Rai Karan at one time was appointed to rule. Nīlkanṭh was reached on the last day of December 1309. Then there is a long journey of 16 days to bring the army to the next station on the march, which is put down as Bas‘īrāgarh in the doab of two rivers Yashnar and Baruji, or Yashar and Bhuji as in the manuscript used by Professor Habib. The question now is what was the actual route adopted, and in what direction did the army move, for neither of which is there an indication. We are able to locate Nīlkanṭh itself only by guess, and Nīlkanṭh may be somewhere near Burhanpur—not very far in that region. That means the army had been taken over the Vindhya mountains, the Narmada and the Satpura. If Deogiri had been the objective, the route would have lain through Baglana over the Tapti and the hills on the southern side of it. But the main thoroughfares avoid the hilly region, and lead through Burhanpur, Elichpur, Amaraoti, Nagpur and further eastwards, two or three roads crossing the frontier of the present-day Nizam’s Dominions and concentrating on Warangal. It would be a matter of some importance to know where Bas‘īrāgarh was notwithstanding Amīr Khusrau’s taking the trouble to define it as in the doab of two rivers Yashar and Bhuji. There is the additional detail given in Amīr Khusrau’s description that it was a place where diamonds were found in plenty. The road is described as a difficult road, but that is said to be the road to Tilang, and Bas‘īrāgarh is said to have contained a diamond mine. Making use of these details, we ought to follow one of the roads, taken perhaps even by the British armies in the Mahratta wars through Elichpur, Amaraoti and Nagpur; therefrom deflecting south-eastwards towards the frontier of the Nizam’s Dominions one road goes across the Wainganga, and reaches a place which is now-a-days called Wairagarh placed on the bend of a small river which flows into the Wainganga with another stream north of it emptying itself very near. The very name Wairagarh would answer to the description that diamonds were found there. There are two rivers, in fact there are three rivers round about it. The name Bas‘īrāgarh is read by Elliot as Bijanagar. There are places with that name, or something very near on the borders of Berar, but they will not answer the other details of Amīr Khusrau’s description. The recommendation for identifying it with Wairagarh is the actual fact that there is a roadway leading from that straight down into the Nizam’s Dominions by way of Karimnagar towards Warangal. But if Warangal had been the objective, there is a shorter road through Chanda, across the Painganga entering into the Nizam’s Dominions almost about the same region as this other road. Going to Wairagarh would make a slight deviation which may not be impossible, having regard to the possible road conditions six centuries ago. It must be remembered that Mālik Kāfūr left the main body of his troops in Bas‘īrāgarh, and made a dash, as is usual with him, in these southern campaigns that he undertook, upon a place which Amīr Khusrau calls Sarbar. This Sarbar is as near as possible in sound to Sirpur just across the river Painganga which is reachable by roadways now from Chanda across the river, and from where Bas‘īrāgarh is actually situated. The road on the way to Chanda seems to be a bigger road now-a-days; but that does not necessarily mean that it was so in the thirteenth century. Sirpur is set almost on the borders of the Nizam’s Dominions where the Nirmal range of the Sahyadri almost vanishes into plain ground, making the road easy even for an army with heavy equipment. It is straight on a line with Mantani and Warangal; that Mantani on the Godavari was one of those places on the highway northwards from Warangal is referred to as having been visited by Mālik Kāfūr’s contemporary Pratāpa Rudra of Warangal on one of the occasions that he had to go north towards Delhi. Sirpur it seems probable was the frontier post against which Mālik Kāfūr made a cavalry dash. Having mastered possession of this he had the means to learn about the further route to Warangal, and something about the defences of the fort and the resources of its ruler. Probably the main army joined him leisurely at Sarbar, which he left on Saturday, January 7, 1310, and reached Kunarbal in the outskirts of Warangal in the course of a week. In the account of Firishta, the army is said to have reached the pargana of Indur on the frontier of Tilang. The pargana of Indur would be the pargana of Nizamabad of to-day, which place was what was known as Indur. It undoubtedly is on the road from Deogiri to Warangal. Firishta is apparently under a misimpression here, as he takes Mālik Kāfūr’s army to Deogiri itself, whereas both Amīr Khusrau and Barni mention that the army reached only the Deogiri frontier which Amīr Khusrau precisely locates at Nīlkanṭh, and Barni also states it clearly that it was only the frontier and not the capital of Deogiri that was actually reached. Firishta must therefore be wrong as, if our identification of Sarbar with Sirpur should happen to be correct, the march from Sirpur to the region of Nizamabad would make rather an extensive detour, which it is not likely was made in the actual circumstances of the case, though the possibility is not altogether excluded. The station reached is said to be Kunarbal. Probably it was one of those villages in the near outskirts of Warangal. There is nothing to answer the name Kunarbal, on the maps. But a place Kunar, not far from Warangal, but a little to the south of it by south-west, on the road from Nizamabad is marked on the India Atlas. Even granting that the army marched straight down from Sirpur to Jaktiyal, and therefrom passed on to Warangal through Karimnagar, it is not impossible that a camp was erected a little to the south of the town for other military advantages. Therefrom the operations were continued leading to the fall of Warangal, and the treaty that brought the campaign to a close. The army set forward on its march, on Thursday, March 19, 1310, and reached Delhi on Wednesday, June 10, 1310, taking in all two months and twenty-five days for the return journey. Amīr Khusrau gives no indication of the route taken for the return journey, but Barni notes that the return journey was by the route of Deogiri, Dhar, Jhaiun, which is a clear indication that this is not the route originally taken on the outward journey, though it indicates unmistakably again that this was probably the more usual route. The route of march downwards to Warangal must have been Chanderi, Sarangpur, Indore, Khandwa, etc. The march onwards might have been the more western route crossing the Narmada at Maheswar, Kalghat-Dharampur, as it is called, marching up north to Mandu, from there to Nagda northwards through Kota to Bharatpur, Muttra, Delhi. In this journey it is very probable that the army marched from Warangal on to Deogiri, and passed through Ram Deo’s capital, although it is not stated so in so many words.
The army spent the season of the rains in Delhi and started for the south on the campaign against Ma’bar on November 20, 1310. A muster of the army was taken at Tankal, otherwise written Natgal, on the Jumna, and marching orders were given on the 2nd December following. In one straight march the army came to a place called Katihun in 21 days, and a further 17 days took them to Gurgaom, crossing three rivers of which the biggest was the Narmada. This summary description gives the impression that the route taken was the usual route in which the army met with no incidents of an untoward character. In all probability that route was the route of the return march from Warangal we described above. The army would have come down as far as Muttra, and turned south-westwards along the great highroad through Bharatpur, Savai-Madhopur, Kota, Jhalrapetan as far as Nagda. There is no place that is identifiable with anything like Katihun that Amīr Khusrau speaks of; at any rate, there is nothing satisfactory so far. But having regard to the length of march and the summary description, we may possibly take it that the stage Katihun was somewhere near the region of Nagda. Gurgaom must be located somewhere between Burhanpur and the Tapti, a distance of about five marches from where Deogiri actually is. The road taken this time probably went from the Narmada at Maheswar southwards to Pansemal, from which Nandurbar, Sindkheda and Dhulian and Jalgaom can all be reached across the Tapti; and beyond them lay Chalesgaom, and across the Sahyadri, Deogiri. There is nothing like Gurgaom on the maps in this locality, and we must therefore remain content with not being able to find its modern equivalent. Leaving Gurgaom, the army reached the Tapti, and crossing it reached Deogiri in five marches after leaving Gurgaom, on the 17th Ramzan, equivalent to 8th February 1311. There the army made a halt, and according to Barni, Ram Deo having died and Sankar Dev being the ruler, the malik appointed some one to attend to the needs of the army marching on the further journey. From there five marches took them across the three rivers, Sini, Godavari and Binhur to the place which Amīr Khusrau calls the Kharabābād of a Paras Deo Dalvi. Working on the account of Elliot alone, I took Kharābābad as an actual name of a place. But with the translation before me now it strikes me it is merely Amīr Khusrau’s description where he plays upon an attribute that he himself had given to Deogiri by calling it Almanābad, a city of safety, and by way of contrast, he calls the other Kharābābād, which he gives again to Kandur in the south. That must have been the headquarters of the southern government under the general Parsu Deo, the Dalavai, Parsu being the contracted form of Parasuram. The road starting from Deogiri and going southwards has to cross three rivers whichever way it went. But the usual way in those days seems to have been from Deogiri through the interior towards Bhir, almost straight east of Ahmadnagar, and, across the Balaghat range, to somewhere near Ashti or Kharda, two frontier stations where during the Mahratta wars battles were fought. Marching from there to Barsi and along south by way of Naldurg to Sholapur and thence to Pandarpur. If, as is possible, Sholapur had been the headquarters of Parasuram Deo, the condition that the Bhima was one of the three rivers crossed is not satisfied. But if instead the road taken was from Barsi to Pandarpur, one of the familiar roads, both the Sina and the Bhima would be crossed. Pandarpur was probably the frontier station, and that was the government of Parsudevo Dalvi. We have reference to an inscription of the Hoysala Vīra Sōmēśvara discovered there. It is therefore clear that Pandarpur was the frontier between the two kingdoms of Baḷḷāḷa and Yādava. Therefrom, after holding a council of war, Mālik Kāfūr started at the head of one tuman (a division of ten thousand soldiers), and made a dash upon Dvārasamudra, reaching the place after twelve marches, on the 25th February 1311. Without much of fighting, terms of peace were arranged with Vīra Baḷḷāḷa, not Viranarasinga as stated by Elliot and copied from him by Professor Habib. After the terms of the treaty had been arranged, Mālik Kāfūr probably remained there some time when the main army joined him. After a stay of about twelve days, he left Dvārasamudra on 10th March 1311. Five marches took them to the frontier of Ma’bar. From there two passes had to be crossed, which, according to Professor Habib’s reading, are Tarmali and Tabar. The first according to Elliot’s reading Sarmalai, introduced a certain amount of confusion. Marching through these passes, they came to the bank of a river, which Elliot noted as Kanobari which name Professor Habib says, does not occur in the manuscript. But as a river is mentioned, and, in the next stage of the narrative, it is what is called Kanauri, the river under reference is apparently the Kaveri. There they encamped for the night, and left on the 25th March 1311 towards Birdhul. Unfortunately for us, Amīr Khusrau uses the name Birdhul once for the capital, another time for the ruler, and contributes to make confusion worse confounded. We have to take Birdhul to be the equivalent of Vīra-Chola. That would be all right if it is applied to the capital. But the ruler against whom he went was Vīra Pānḍya, and, in that case, we shall have to take it that the ruler was Bīr or Vīra, ruler of the Chola country for the time being. Amīr Khusrau’s tendency to play upon the word Bir only adds to the confusion. Here the incidents of the war are said to be an attack of Birdhul, Vīra Pānḍya fleeing from there to a place called Kandur on the outskirts of the forests.
Notwithstanding all the destruction that was committed in Kandur, which Amīr Khusrau calls here Kharābābād, which seems to be a term of opprobrium with him and nothing more, the Muhammadan army suspected that Vīra Pānḍya fled to the sea-shore for protection to a fortress of his there, which, according to the reading of Elliot, was given as Jālkoṭa; but Professor Habib’s reading of the manuscript makes it Jāt Kūṭa. Certain people coming from that direction gave the information that Vīra Pānḍya had not gone in that direction; as no information of either the king or of his army was to be had, and as Amīr Khusrau indulges in a pun that Vīra Pānḍya washed his hands off the sea and fled rather to the forests, as offering more satisfactory protection to his army, it is probable Vīra Pānḍya fled towards the Pachamalais on the Salem frontier. The army therefore returned to Kandur, and went forward in search of Vīra Pānḍya through the dense forests surrounding the town. Finding progress impossible they were content to remain at Kandur receiving the submission of the Musalman part of the army left behind. The account of Amīr Khusrau makes it appear, and it may be true as other accounts seem to confirm it more or less, that Mālik Kāfūr was particular about capturing the elephants of the enemy; but so far he was disappointed in not getting possession of as many elephants as he wished to secure, or perhaps as he expected. Just at this juncture information reached him that in a place called Barmatpur—Elliot’s reading Brahmastpur—there was a golden temple and a rich city with temples and idols to be plundered together with some elephants, which they were given to understand were kept there for greater security. The army marched to Barmatpur or Brahmastpur, which, of course, is stated in so many words to be destroyed completely, the images of Śiva and Vishṇu alike being included in the destruction. The whole place seems to have been dug up for buried treasure, and after taking whatever was possible to get, the army was preparing to proceed to the next stage of their work.
On the 11th Zil Qa’d, which seems to correspond to April 1, 1311, they left the Chola country on their march towards Madura. The first stage in the march after four days was a place which the narrative calls Kim here, but which was read Kham by Elliot. Five marches thence they reached Madura, Matra, the ‘dwelling place of the brother of the Rai Sundara Pānḍya.’ The king ‘with his household and all that could be carried, had fled, and the invading army found nothing’ there excepting an empty palace with only three elephants in the temple of Jagannath (Śokkanātha). Mālik Kāfūr’s disappointment was very great. He took possession of the three elephants and sent them all to join the rest of the elephants taken in the course of this invasion; and Amīr Khusrau accounts 512 of such elephants taken so far in this invasion. The anger of the invading general showed itself in destroying by fire both the temple and the palace in the immediate neighbourhood. So far as this account is concerned, the campaign comes to a close here. On Sunday the 4th Zil Ḥijja, which would correspond to the 24th or the 25th of April 1311, the army set forward on the return journey and reached Delhi and presented itself in the durbar of the Sultan on Monday the 29th September 1311, having been five months and two or three days on the return journey. The rest of the account is occupied of course, with the description of the wealth that was carried from the invasion, and what Allāuddīn himself did with the spoils of the war.
Now proceeding to an examination of the route of this invasion, we have already indicated that the road taken this time should have been the high road from Delhi to almost Nagda, from there to Indore, from there to Dhar, across the Narmada to Deogiri; from Deogiri, the army proceeded to Bhir, and thence across on the road to Parenda, from thence southwards to Barsi and across to Pandarpur, the fief of ‘Persdevo’. From there Mālik Kāfūr made a dash at the head of a select and compact body of troops, about ten thousand strong, against Dvārasamudra, Haḷabid of the Hoysalas, under Vīra Baḷḷāḷa. No battle is described, and no battles were obviously fought. But the Baḷḷāḷa submitted and terms of treaty were arranged, sending forward the treaty with the Baḷḷāḷa prince to the headquarters for ratification of the treaty. We must note here that no further campaign is mentioned by Amīr Khusrau, nor is any made of any battle fought, or siege laid in Dvārasamudra. Therefrom five marches took the army to the frontier, by way of the Hoysala country, to that of the Chola-Pānḍya. The dash from Pandarpur upon Dvārasamudra could have been only by one of two well-known routes, either from Pandarpur to Bijapur, and by the eastern road through Anegundi and Hampi straight along as far as Hiriyur in Mysore, and thence to Banawar and Halabid. Returning by the same route as far as Banavar and taking the route to strike the main road at Chikknayakanhalli, the army must have marched forward towards the passes into the Salem District at Hosur; or they must have marched taking the western route through Dvārasamudra and Halabid to Harihar, thence coming down as far as Kadur or even Banavar, and leaving for Dvārasamudra. The main army joined Mālik Kāfūr at Dvārasamudra. From there the road taken was surely the eastern road through Gubbi and Bangalore towards Hosur, Krishnagiri and across the hills in the Salem District. In those days that was a very well-known route, and one of the highways of communication between the country above the ghauts and below. Amīr Khusrau gives us no very particular information possibly because there was nothing interesting that occurred. The whole route lay through the country of Vīra Baḷḷāḷa, and, once a treaty had been entered into, nothing could well have happened worth mentioning. But from Hosur south, it is a new route and it runs through hostile country. Amīr Khusrau mentions two passes; according to Elliot’s reading, the names are Śarmali and Tabar; but Professor Habib’s reading is Tarmali and Tabar. The objective of the invasion seems to have been to strike the Kaveri somewhere. That gives us a little lead where there was actually none. After mentioning the passes the name of the river is given as Kanobari, according to the manuscript of Elliot. But in the manuscript used by Professor Habib, the term Kanobari does not occur; but later on in speaking of their striking camp, the starting point is given as Kanauri, which amounts to as much as mentioning the river before. In both the cases, the river where they came for the night must have been the river Kaveri either on the banks of which, or in the sands of which, they spent the night. The ghat road through Salem leaving Hosur has to pass through Hosur, Krishnagiri, then Dharmapuri on to Salem, Trichengode, Bhavani, across the Kaveri as one route. That is the route taken now-a-days. There is another, Krishnagiri, Dharmapuri, Tāramangalam reaching the banks of the Kaveri higher up than Bhavani perhaps almost opposite the place where now the Meṭṭur dam is being built. Of course, an army marching would certainly see to the facility of crossing the river Kaveri at a place where it can easily be forded. There are two passes here; and whichever of the routes be taken, the army has to pass through Toppur. Toppur is a village where there is a little stream, which is called Toppur river; and as it cuts its way through one of the spurs of the Eastern Ghats, the pass gets the name Toppur pass. It is a well-known place on the road from the plain country into Mysore in days before the railway. There is no need to get through another pass at all if the route through Omalur-Salem be taken; but the mention of a second pass and the definite statement in the account of Amīr Khusrau that there were two passes to cross, give clear indication that the road taken was the other, and probably it is the old ford on the Kaveri at which the river could be crossed with ease to the opposite bank, where in those days there were important towns along which the road ran to the south. Tarmali is probably the Taramangalam river, or the pass a little to the west of Taramangalam. Then after crossing the Kaveri the army left on its march. If they had crossed the Kaveri before marching, which seems to be indicated in the statement of Amīr Khusrau, the road would take them down south as far as Musiri close to the Kaveri, and then the road takes off from the Kaveri into the interior. At Musiri there is even now a well-known ford across the Kaveri. Probably that was a ford even in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Crossing the Kaveri again, although it is not mentioned, the road could be taken on the other side of the Kaveri and the Coleroon to the Chola capital at Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram or Gangaikonḍachōḷapuram, the former of which appears to have been the Pānḍya capital of the Chola country at the time. The route between Musiri and Trichinopoly on the other side of the river would be comparatively inconvenient for an army. There were so many water channels and the country is so thoroughly agricultural that the difficulty would be really great, unless the army had made a detou?? into the interior and marched towards the south to Madura by way o?? Dindigul. The objective being Birdhul, according to Amīr Khusrau, we shall have to fix upon what that is. Undoubtedly that must have been the capital of the Chola country, now the eastern capital of the Pānḍya empire. The capital in those days must have been Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram, which is about six miles to the west of Gangaikonḍachōḷapuram on the highroad to Kumbhakonam on the one side, and Trichinopoly on the other on the northern bank of the Coleroon. That was the capital of the great Pānḍya Māravarman Kulaśēkhara, and records of his reign state that he issued his orders from a garden palace outside the city of Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram. But even this does not bring us any nearer to Birdhul. Since the phonetic approach that we could make to Birdhul is Vīra-Chōḷa, and, as we hear often of halls and palaces bearing names of these princes in some of these cities, such as for instance Muḍikonḍaśoḻan in Gangaikonḍachōḷapuram, it is just possible that this city Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram contained halls which may have been called Vīraśoḻan. Vīraśoḻan was a common name of a large number of princes, and there were two emperors who bore the name, Vīrarājēndra ruling from A.D. 1063 to A.D. 1070, and Kulottunga III not long before the date of the invasion, who had the title Tirubhuvana Vīra. Other indications point closely to that as the centre of the attack. It is not very far from Chidambaram, where often, these princes anointed themselves in the hall of the holy place there, soon after the royal ceremony in the capital. If then Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram is what is to be taken to be the Birdhul, what is Kandur and the forests near about? Kandur is undoubtedly Kaṇṇanūr on the northern bank of the Coleroon about six miles from Śrīrangam across the comparatively big river. Kaṇṇanūr must have been a place of importance at the time, as that happened to be the Hoysala capital down to the time of Vīra Baḷḷāḷa. It was only some years after Vīra Baḷḷāḷa began to rule that the whole of the Hoysala territory above the Ghats and below united into one with Vīra Baḷḷāḷa as ruler. Till then his uncle, and after him that uncle’s son ruled over the country south with their principal capital at Kaṇṇanūr with an alternative which finds mention as Kundāṇi, which is now satisfactorily located in the Baramahals of the Salem District, not very far from Hosur. This Kaṇṇanūr might have been on the way of march towards Vīraśoḻan, but if the invasion went in the first instance to the capital of the country, they might have passed Kaṇṇanūr by. Kaṇṇanūr would otherwise answer to the description given in Amīr Khusrau. It is on the outskirts of the forest almost on three sides except on the side towards Srīrangam. It probably was the centre of a Muhammadan population even before the days of Mālik Kāfūr, as there were a number of places in which Muhammadans were settled for purposes of commerce, at any rate, in the interior, as there were very old settlements of these in a number of places along the coast. Vīra Pānḍya when he was attacked in Birdhul retired after a faint resistance to Kandur, where the Islamic army chased him. But when they went to Kandur, Kharābābād as it is called, they did not find Vīra Pānḍya or his army there. They inferred naturally that he must have gone away in the other direction to another fortress of strength, where he could find efficient protection. According to Amīr Khusrau’s account, it must be a place towards the sea, the sea itself contributing to its defence. According to Elliot’s manuscript, it is Jālkoṭa, but Professor Habib reads it Jāt Kuṭa. There is not much substantial difference in the latter part of the word. Koṭa and Kūta could be easily mistaken in pronunciation. But whether it is Jāt or Jāl would make a substantial difference in sense. With the reading Jāt, it is rather hard to make anything out of it. Jāl, water, may make some sense, and the way that Amīr Khusrau seems to play upon the term sea and the statement that Bir, Vīra Pānḍya washed his hands off the sea, would seem to indicate that perhaps the correcter reading would be Jāl. In such a case, the place would be Jālkōṭa or water fortress, as Amīr Khusrau is actually describing Vīra Pānḍya as having run away for the protection of the sea. This must have been the strong fortress, which, in the centuries following, played an important part, and which in the days of the British used to be called Devacotta, really Tīvukōṭa, the fortress on the island, popularly spoken of as Tīkoṭai, which is at the mouth of the Coleroon, but in those days extending perhaps northwards to a considerable distance into the island which the river has formed there. There used to be a flourishing seaport at the mouth of the Coleroon, which in the days of the Cholas used to be called Jayaṁkonḍa Chōḷapaṭṭinam, or briefly Jayangonḍapaṭṭinam. But the Muhammadan army did not march there having had information that Vīra Pānḍya had not gone in that direction. Their attempt to follow him into the forest proved infeasible, and they had no alternative but to content themselves with what they had been able to do. Perhaps the inevitable elephants had not been secured in number. Timely information came to Mālik Kāfūr that the elephants of Bir were kept in a strong place which Professor Habib reads as Bharmatpur, and which Elliot read as Brahmastpur. Either of the readings would be equivalent of the Hindu Brahmapuri, which I have indicated from the circumstantial account of Amīr Khusrau himself to stand for Brahmapuri-Chidambaram, which according to the account of Amīr Khusrau, Mālik Kāfūr sacked. He destroyed the temples and the idols there, and even dug up the place for buried wealth, having secured some elephants also. He broke camp from this locality and started on the invasion of Madura, Matra, as Amïr Khusrau calls it, and Mardi as Wassaf writes it, more truly catching up the popular name of the town. The first stage in the march which seems to have taken them about four days was mentioned as Kham by Elliot, and Kim by Professor Habib. Either way it does not take us nearer to a satisfactory identification, which may be regarded as certain. We have to remain content with what I stated in my South India and Her Muhammadan Invaders on pages 104-5, that probably it stands for Kaḍambavanam, which would be about sixty miles from Chidambaram. It may have taken five marches to reach it. Another five marches from there, they reached the town of Madura, the habitual capital of the Pānḍyas, even under Vīra Pānḍya. The capital had been evacuated by the ruler who carried away his treasure and household to a place which is mentioned as Mankul, which Elliot attempted to identify with Namakkal. Namakkal is too far out for the purpose. It is there probably the two Mangalams, Mēla (Upper) and Kīḻa (Lower) on the Western Ghats, which may be regarded as places of security. Not finding anything but three elephants, the Muhammadans set fire to the temple itself and taking the three elephants returned making up a total of 512 elephants for this invasion. This is as far as Amīr Khusrau’s account according to the Khaẓā’inul Fuṭūḥ or Tarik-i Alāi takes us.
Before we close this introduction we ought to refer to two minor points which are neither of them mentioned in this account. Firishta is responsible for the statement, given in the portion translated by Professor Habib himself, that Mālik Kāfūr, in the course of his southern invasions, constructed a masjid. It is called Masjid-i-Alāi, Allāuddin’s Mosque, at ‘Sit Band Ramisar’, and adds that the mosque was to be seen existing in his days early in the seventeenth century. The designation Sita Band Ramisar would lead one readily to take it that it is Sētubanda Rāmēśvara, or Ramēśwaram, where a big dam across the sea ascribed to Rama exists. But Firishta’s own description gives the lie direct. He says that the Malik Naib after overcoming Bikal Dev, the Raja of the Carnatic, plundered the country, and it is in that invasion and in that connection that he says that he built a mosque in that country of Carnatik, and later, in the same connection, that the mosque could be seen in that country and describes it as ‘the port of Dur Samandar on the shore of the sea of Ummam’. Sea of Ummam is certainly the Arabian Sea, and the port or Dur Samandar must be a port in the country of Dvārasamudra, that is the Hoyśala country. It cannot therefore refer to Ramēśwaram by any stretch of language. There is no reference to such a thing in the account of Amīr Khusrau, or in the abridged account of Zia Barni. It is just possible that a raid was undertaken towards the west coast. But this has nothing whatever to do with Ramēśwaram in the distant south. That would lead us to the question whether Ramēśwaram, or that region, was ever at all invaded by Mālik Kāfūr. We have seen that Mālik Kāfūr, in the course of these wars, was in the habit of making dashing raids against various places. From the capital of Hoysala a raid to the west coast may seem possible. It is from Pandarpur that he first undertook a raid towards Dvārasamudra. It will be noticed that from the camp of Bas‘īrāgarh, a raid was undertaken against Sarbar on the occasion of the invasion of Warangal. It is not at all unlikely that he sent out a raid, or led it himself from his camp at Madura towards Ramēśwaram as a likely place where the elephants that he wanted so much and the wealth of the Pānḍya might lie hidden. In another work of Amīr Khusrau called Āshika, he speaks of an invasion up to the shores of the sea of Lanka, against the ruler whom he called Pānḍya Guru. He mentioned his capital by the name Faṭan where there was an idol temple. This, in all probability, is no other than Ramēśvarapaṭṭinam, as we may call it now, as well as Periapaṭṭinam and another Paṭṭinam on the opposite coast of India. Excepting for this raid we have no information whatever that Mālik Kāfūr had anything more to do with Ramēśwaram. It may therefore be taken to be that he carried his raids as far as Ramēśwaram. It is hardly possible that he built a mosque there though there might have been one already, and that Firishta’s account is the result of a confusion that the mosque was built at Sētu-Rāmēśwaram when he speaks of the sea of Omman. For a further discussion of this, reference may be made to South India and Her Muhammadan Invaders.
We must close the introduction with pointing out the services that Professor Habib has rendered to students of Indian History by giving such a good translation of this difficult work of Amīr Khusrau, and adding to the translation itself material from other works bearing on the subject, which would enable a student to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion regarding the invasions of the south under Allāuddin. This work needed the doing and we are grateful indeed to Professor Habib for having taken up this work and done it so well.
This book, which contains an account of victories, has been given the title of ‘Khazā‘īnul Futūḥ’ from Heaven.1a All praises are for the Opener, who opened the gates of victories for the religion of Moḥammad and raised his helpers high with Divine assistance: Exalted is His Dignity and Supreme His Kingdom! And blessings on the Prophet of the Sword, who with a sign cut open the moon and the breast, and showed with conclusive proofs: ‘And Allāh did certainly assist you at Badr.’1b And peace to his Family and his pious Companions, who woke up the sleepers with the tongue and the sword. May love for them never cease to cling to our hearts even as victory clings to the sword of the pious Sulṭān of the world! After praises of God in all sincerity, and of the Prophet in particular, the treasury of praises is not deserved by any one except the august Emperor. It will be right if I said in his praise, that he is the exalted sun which illuminates the moon. And he is the Sulṭān of the monarchs of the earth, more brilliant than the sun and moon when they rise! The ‘shadow of God’ over the heads of men! The protector of all creatures from the vicissitudes of time! The crystal sphere of excellence! The exalted sun! ‘Alāuddunyā waddīn! The equal of the sun and moon on high! The light of both the worlds in darkness, etc., etc. Adorned with every exalted virtue, Moḥammad Shāh, the Sulṭān! May God cast his shadow over all things so long as the clouds drop dew over the earth from on high!1c
2a The panegyrist of the ‘Alāī Empire, the servant Khusrau, states that however high his pen may raise its feet and crawl through all the regions of black and white, it is unable to pass the first stage of the Emperor’s praise. But as it was written in the Book of Creation that the pen, which eulogises the Emperor, should come within my fingers ‘like the shooting-star within the crescent or the sun in its constellation,’ Divine kindness, the key to unlimited blessings,—‘and for Allāh are the treasures of Heaven and Earth’—opened to me the gates of His treasures. Gems such as had never been bestowed on Bakhtarī and Abū Tamām were showered on my pages; though every one of them was such as Venus could not afford to purchase, yet none was worthy of being used in praise of the celestial monarch. Nevertheless, since more precious gems were not to be found in the human mind, as a matter of necessity I stringed these in order, expecting that the Emperor will be an ocean of mercy, which throws out nothing that falls into it.
2b I believed that my crooked words, like the offerings of an ant before Solomon’s throne2c (May it rule for ever over men and jins!) will be accepted, for every poem I present to the Emperor, though it be nothing else but a dried up river, is yet filled with water through the stream of his kindness, and, aided by the favourable current, the boats of my mind can float through all the regions of land and sea. Having been drowned in his favours in the past, I am emboldened to proceed further; and having often dived in oceans of poetry and brought out heaps of pearls, I also wished to adorn some pages of prose for the high festival. And even like the effect of the sun on precious stones, the Emperor’s look will turn them into things of value. As my pen, like a tirewoman, has generally curled the hair of her maidens in verse and has seldom shown them in pages of prose, she raises her grateful face to the Emperor: ‘May the august eyes disregard my defect.’2d
3a If the stream of my life was given the good news of eternal existence, even then I would not offer the thirsty any drink except the praises of the Second Alexander.3b But as I find that human life is such that in the end we have to wash our hands off it, the fountain of my words will only enable the reader to moisten his lips. Since the achievement of my life-time, from the cradle to the grave, cannot be more than this, I did not consider it proper to plunge to the bottom of endless oceans but contented myself with a small quantity of the water of life. 3c The mirror of the Second Alexander3d is such that, if totally illuminated, its images cannot be contained by the looking-glass of the sky. How, then, can they appear in the rust-eaten mind of his servant? Still some things, which I have, I will show according to the capacity of my imagination and in such a way as I can,—so that if critics have any doubts about my talents, such doubts may be removed. I hope that when this spotless mirror, in which his virtuous existence has been portrayed, comes before the eyes of the Second Alexander, he will compare it with the original; if it is well constructed and its images are correct, he will place it among his select courtiers; but, if from inartistic or crooked execution, there is anything in it contrary to the picture of fire, he will signify so, in order that I may correct it so far as possible. I hope, however, that he will not turn away his face from it, for then my images will vanish as if they had never been. But I know that a mirror constructed in the reign of Alexander can never be crooked. 3e In this book, known as the Khazā‘īnul Futūḥ, I have only narrated one out of a hundred events from the conquest of Deogīr to the conquest of Arangal. It will be seen in this ‘Chapter of the Iron’3f what Hindū kingdoms have disappeared from the face of the earth, and how far the ‘Word of Light’ has overcome the ‘darkness of infidelity’; so that the success of the Faith may be estimated from the light and the smoke. May the kindness of the Merciful bless the Emperor!
4a I will also narrate some events of the reign of this Caliph, who is Moḥammad in name, Abū Bakr in truthfulness, and Umar in justice. I will show how, like ‘Uṯmān, he has brought the benevolent words of God into the book of realization, how like ‘Alī he has opened the gates of knowledge in the City of Islām, Delhī, with the key of his favour. Through his munificence, which flows like the Tigres, he has raised this Imperial City to the greatness of a new Baghdād. The Abbāsīde standards, which had fallen down owing to great cataclysms, he has in his Caliphate again raised upon foundations of justice.4b Through the exercise of his strong judgment, he has maintained peace in the countries of the world. And in all matters he has sought the aid of, and held fast to Allāh. Strange is his prosperity, for God holds his wishes in special regard! For instance, fire is killed by water the moment the two are united, yet if it crosses his mind that the two elements should be married, the Dīwān-i-Quzā will at once perform the ceremony.4c The powers of nature are so much under his orders, that though the earth is desolated by the wind and the wind is dusty with the earth, yet if he gives the sign, the twain will be united and the guardians of the atmosphere will turn the wind into water and mix it with the earth. If his mind so desires, it is not impossible that opposites should be made to meet!
Here begins the ‘Khazā‘īnul Futūḥ,’ every gem of which is a lamp for the soul. 4d When the breeze of Divine favour began to blow over the wishes of the youthful monarch, not a hundredth part of whose good fortune has been yet realized (May God always strengthen his branches!), many victories blossomed on his sword and spear from the Bihār5a of Lakhnautī to the Bihār of Mālwa. He grew like a tree in the territory of Karra by the bank of the Ganges and threw out his branches (so wide) that he attained to the dignity of the ‘Shadow of God’.5b Wherever in the forest or by the bank of the river, there was a mawās,5c whether in cultivated land or wilderness, he trod it underfoot with his army. Then on Saturday, the 19th Rabī‘ul Akhir, A.H. 695 he moved towards the garden of Deogīr, from which direction the spring comes; and striking its branches like a storm, cleared them of their leaves and fruits. Rām Deo, a tree of noble origin in that garden, had never before been injured by the tempestuous wind of misfortune; but (the Sulṭān) in his anger first uprooted him and then planted him again, so that he once more grew into a green tree. Next, loading his elephants with precious stones as the rainy season clouds (are laden with water), and placing bags of gold, more in quantity than the saman-i-zar5d that grows on the earth, over Bactrian camels and horses5e swift as the wind, he arrived in Karra-Mānikpūr on the 28th of Rajab, A.H. 695. Now that black-headed bulbul, the pen, sings by its scratchings on paper, of the accession of this tall cypress to the throne. From the first day of his accession till now, A.H. 709, whichever way he has turned his bridle under the shadow of the canopy, the odour of his conquests has been disseminated with the winds. Indeed all forts opened at his impetuosity as buds ‘open’ at the blowing of the breeze. 5f I hope from Almighty God that He will for ever preserve the memory of pious kings on the pages of time. And may the excellent virtues of the Emperor be recorded (in this book) in such a way as to become famous throughout the world, and may the pitch of (my) voice rise high enough to drown the drums of Sanjar and Maḥmūd, though in affairs of government and conquests they were great and successful monarchs!6a
Account of the accession of the conquering monarch, the soles of whose feet have brought happiness to the throne. 6b As Providence had ordained that this Moslem Moses was to seize their powerful swords from all infidel Pharaohs and dig out of the earth the immense (Qārūnī) treasures of the rāīs, till the calf-worshipping Hindūs in their hearts began to consider the cow contemptible and the Emperor, with the bow of Shu‘aīb,6c became the shepherd of all his subjects, therefore the deceased Alf Khān6d was sent to him as Aaron had been sent to Moses. The hopeful message came to his ear: ‘We will strengthen your arm with your brother and we will give you both an authority.’ With the auspicious advice of his brother, the Imperial Moses mounted the throne, which was high as the Ṭūr, on Wednesday the 16th Ramazān, A.H. 695. He gave away quintārs after qintārs6e of gold—‘her colour is intensely yellow, giving delight to the beholder’ —to every ignoble person. Every time he opened the palm of his hand to give away some precious pearls, he showed the ‘white hand’ of Moses in generosity. Owing to the scattering of emeralds, it seemed that the meadows of Mānikpūr were inlaid with gems. And as the enemy6f preponderated in strength, both the brothers raised their hands in prayer: ‘O our Lord! Surely we are afraid that he may hasten to do evil to us.’ The heavenly voice replied to give them strength: ‘Fear not, surely I am with you.’ At the appointed time the Emperor reached the precincts of the City.7a But as the ruler of this side, with the pride of Pharaoh in his head, waited for him on the bank of the blue Jamna, the inspiration from Heaven came again to his heart: ‘Fear not, surely you will be the uppermost.’ So relying on his dragon-spear, he came to the precincts of the Imperial Capital. On Monday, 22nd Ẓil Ḥijjah, A.H. 695 the Emperor’s proclamation, ‘Obey my command!’ was heard from east to west. And then owing to his justice he became the shepherd of the people; the wolf in killing goats became like the wolf of Joseph.
If I am allowed, I will show the superiority of good government over the glory of conquests. 7b Every man gifted with the crown of wisdom, if he takes correct judgment for his guide, will after a little cogitation come to the conclusion that the dignity of the ‘ruler’ is superior to that of the ‘conqueror’. For the term ‘ruler’ is rightly applied to Almighty God, while the title of ‘conqueror’ cannot be legitimately used for any but kings of the earth. Philosophers have said that the conquest of the world is with the object of retaining it: the man, who conquers but cannot retain, is in fact himself conquered. And it is inevitable that when he seizes the world, the world should seize him also. This, too, is clear as day to all men that the conquering and keeping of the world is a quality of the sword of the sun; for from east to west the sun brings the earth under the rays of his sword and keeps it. But the mere conqueror is like a flash of lightning; for an instant he seizes the whole world and then immediately disappears. The conqueror of this age (May God strengthen his hand over the Capital and the provinces!) so highly excels in the qualities of the ‘ruler’ as well as the ‘conqueror’, that neither the pen nor the tongue can describe his powers. As a matter of necessity, therefore, I will speak of his virtues in such manner as my capacities allow; and according to the premises stated above, a description of his administrative measures will precede the account of his conquests in the arrangement of this book; so that every item may find a proper place without disturbing the continuity of the narrative. The sock is for the foot and the hat is for the head; the man, who has brains in his head, does not wear his sock over it.8a
Account of the administrative measures that have been promulgated in the reign of the Emperor, who is extremely devoted to this art:—8b The fortunate star of all mankind arose on the day when it was made evident to the Emperor’s enlightened mind: ‘And against these we have given you a clear authority.’8c For when I raise up my eyes, I see that this exalted Dawn8d has a greater love and affection for the sons of Adam than the sun has for the moon and the stars of the sky or the moon for the particles of the earth. In the first place, throughout the Empire, from east to west and from north to south, he has often remitted the tribute from the ra’īyat. Secondly, he has seized from the Hindū rāīs with the blows of his sword, just as the sun absorbs water from the earth, treasures which they had been collecting since the time of Mahrāj and Bikarmājīt, star by star. The public treasury is so full that it can be neither described by the pen of Mercury nor weighed in the balance of Venus. He gives away treasures by the balance of Virgo, so that people, who only possessed copper, are drowned under tankas8e of gold and silver like the Pisces. On the day of the Emperor’s munificence, the Balance in the sky is lighter than the balances on the earth.
Account of the distribution of treasures of gold by elephant-loads and a trifle more:—9a Before this time when Mahmūd, the giver of gold, gave away an elephant-load of gold, his great liberality became famous through the world. But the Emperor distributes gold in a measure which nothing can excel. He has ordered large elephants to be weighed in boats, and the gold-bricks used in weighing them have been given away to the poor. What monarch can rival the prince in whose city treasures, weighed out by elephants, are given away.
Account of the distribution of horses swift as the wind, when every gift consisted of more than a hundred horses:—9b If I were to describe his gifts of horses, the stable of my praises would be unable to include them. Kings are munificent; and the Emperor every day gives away fortunes to the necessitous. It is seldom that he makes a smaller gift than of a hundred or fifty (horses); but if he gives one horse only, it is such that another like it cannot be found. With the blows of his sword he has seized the stables of all the rāīs. Some of these horses he gives to the horse-breakers, so that with the strokes of their whips they may make the horses run as swift as deer. Others are given to the pāīks (footmen) so that they may ride on them with the help of their sharp stirrups. The grooms (mufridān-i-rakāb) are also given horses. In former days the calves of the runners had grown thin from running on foot, but now their feet seldom leave the stirrup. Some horses are given to the amīrs, who formerly owned unbroken colts but now ride horses swift as the wind. As this cloud9c rains horses, there is no doubt that the rose, which was formerly a foot-man, will now come out of the ground on horseback.
Account of his making the means of happiness abundant for everyone, so that no one may be restrained in his enjoyment during the reign:—9d Next, in order to increase the means of livelihood for the general public, he reduced the tax on shop-keepers, who had been selling their wares dear. An honest officer (rāīs) was installed over them to converse with sharp-tongued sellers through the whip of justice and to give the capacity of talking to the dumb (purchasers). Clever inspector (mutafaḥḥis) made full inquiries into the weight of the stones.10a Every dishonest (seller), who used his own black heart for his ‘stone’, had all hardness knocked out of him. Severity and rigour reached such a pitch that all ‘stones’ (weights) were made of iron and their correct weight written upon them; so that if any one gave less than the correct measure, the iron turned into a chain round his neck. If he was impudent still, the chain became a sword and the extreme punishment was meted out to him. When the shop-keepers saw this severity, they did not meddle with the iron-weights; in fact, they considered them to be castles of iron round their hearts and regarded the inscriptions on the weights as amulets for the protection of their souls. You might say that the inscriptions were really not on iron but on hearts of iron. For on hearts such as these the Emperor’s just regulations came as easily as inscriptions on wax and remained as permanently as inscriptions on iron.
Description of the justice meted out in this reign, so that the dragon has become submissive before the ant. 10b If I attempt to describe the justice of the Imperial Court, that two-horned deer, the pen, will have to put a chain round the neck of the lion of meaning.10c Wonderful, indeed, is his justice, when from fear of his punishment mad elephants kneel down before panting ants, and tigers repent of their morning draught of animal blood under his arched sword! His justice has broken the necks and claws of lions and overthrown the power of dog-faced tyrants.10d The head of the pig-eating oppressors hangs low, and the blood of goat-stealing criminals has been shed on the ground like the blood of goats.
Reform of the affairs of nobles and commons—Prohibition of adultery and drink. 10e Though the giving of water (to the thirsty) is one of the most notable virtues of the pious Emperor, yet he has removed wine and all its accompaniments from vicious assemblies; for wine, the daughter of grape and the sister of sugar, is the mother of all wickedness. And wine, on her part, has washed herself with salt and sworn that she will henceforth remain in the form of vinegar, freeing herself from all evils out of regard for the claims of ‘salt’.11a Moreover, all prostitutes, who with their locks under their ears, had broken their chains and stretched their feet, have now been lawfully married. From the ribbon, that tied their hair, they have now turned to the ‘ribbon’ that ties them in marriage. Those whose skirts had obtained a bad reputation, because they earned their living by prostitution, have now been so reformed that they sit in their houses, patching up their skirts with the greatest repentance and rubbing their hands together.11b All the roots of sin and crime have been cut off.
Peace and order during the Emperor’s reign, when no one dare pick up a fallen jewel from the street. 11c Out of regard for all his subjects, this maintainer of peace has so worked with his sharp sword, that from the banks of the river Sind (Indus) to the Seacoast no one has heard the name of robber, thief or pickpocket. Night-prowlers, who formerly used to set villages on fire, now attend to travellers with a lighted lamp. In whatever part of the country a traveller might lose a piece of rope, either the rope is produced or compensation given. Cutpurses, pickpockets and those who dig open graves11d had been busy in their profession from ancient times. But now the sword of punishment has cut off their hands and feet. And if some of them are still sound in body, their hands and feet have become so useless, that you would think they were born without them.
Massacre of blood-sucking magicians, when blood bubbled out of the neck of those whose lips had worked mischief. 11e Blood-sucking magicians —who by the use of (magical) words sharpened their unwise teeth on the flesh of other people’s children and caused a stream of blood to flow, which pleased them greatly—were buried in the earth up to their necks while people threw stones at them. Thus punishment for the blood they had drunk was meted out on their heads. All men have to suffer the agonies of death, but those who drink this wine (i.e., human blood) are thus destroyed.12a
Massacre of the ‘fraternity of incest’ (aṣḥāb-i-ibāḥat), when punishment for their deeds was meted out to them. 12b Next the pious supporter of the sharī‘at ordered all members of the ‘fraternity of incest’ to be brought before him. Truthful inquisitors were appointed to catch everyone of them and make thorough inquiries into their assemblies. It was discovered that among these shameless wretches, mothers had cohabited with their own sons and aunts (mother’s sisters) with their nephews; that the father had taken his daughter for his bride and there had been connection between brothers and sisters. Over the head of all of them, men as well as women, the saw of punishment was drawn… The saw with its heart of iron laughed loudly over their heads in tears of blood. Those, who by a ‘secret stroke’ (Ẓarb-i-pinhān) had become one, were now openly sawed into two, and the soul that had sought union (waṣl) with another soul, was now compelled to leave its own body.12c
Account of the cheapness of corn, when a single ‘dāng’12d turned the scale. 12e As this cloud of generosity is extremely anxious for the public welfare and the comfort and prosperity of nobles and commons, he has kept low the price of grain, from which villagers and citizens derive an equal advantage, during periods when not a drop of rain has fallen from the painted clouds. Whenever the white clouds have had no water left and destruction has stared people in the face, he has cheapened the price of grain for every section of the public by generously opening the royal stores.13a The clouds, consequently, have felt ashamed at their own niggardliness and in envy of his bountiful hands have dissolved into rain. To spur them on to this act, the lightning has often laughed loudly over the heads of water-laden clouds and then fallen on the ground.13b For the lightning knows well that the clouds sometimes rain and sometimes do not, and when they rain, they rain water only. How can they be compared to our beneficent Emperor, who always rains and always rains gold?
Regulations of the ‘Place of Justice’ (Dārul ‘Adl),13c the generous gate of which has been opened for the public. 13d Next he constructed the ‘Place of Justice’ more open than the forehead of honest businessmen and brought to it all things that the people require. He ordered that all packages of cloth brought from the provinces were to be opened here and nowhere else; and once opened, they were not to be tied up again.13e And if anyone opened his packages elsewhere, the joints of his body were to be ‘opened’ with the sword. As to the commodities of the ‘Place of Justice’ and the cloth which is required by rich and poor, there are all varieties of cloth from kirpās to ḥarīr which hide the body; from behārī to gul-i-bāqlī, which are used both in summer and winter; from shi‘r to galīm, which differ greatly in their fibres; from juz to khuz, which are similar in their structure; and from Deogīrī to Mahadeonagri, which are an allurement both for the body and the mind.14a 14b As to fruits and other necessities of the table, if I were to describe in detail all the fine fruits that grow out of the ground, the narrative would become too long and I would be kept back from my real purpose; but the Emperor has provided in the ‘Place of Justice’ fruits and all other things that nobles and commons require for their meals, so that in the midst of the noise and tumult everyone may be able to select carefully the best and most suitable articles.14c You profess to give a just (judgment). Can you find (a judgment) just enough to the Emperor’s generosity?
Account of the sacred buildings, which the Emperor has constructed for the pleasure of God. 14d Because there is a secret understanding between God and the Emperor concerning sacred and public works, he has constructed such sacred buildings as strike the sky with wonder. With a pure motive he began his series of buildings with the Royal Juma Masjid (Masjid-i Jāma-i Hazrāt).14e He ordered a fourth court (maqṣūra), with lofty pillars to be added to the pre-existing three courts; it was to be so high that the fourth heaven may call it a second Mecca. In a day, stones like the sun were brought from the sky, and the (structure of) stones rose from the earth to the moon. Verses from the Qurān were engraved on stone as if it was wax; on one side the inscription ascended so high that you would think the word of God was going up to heaven; on the other side it came down in such a way as to symbolize the descent of the Qurān to earth. Through the elevation of this inscription a conversation, which will never end, has been started between heaven and earth. After this wide and high edifice had been finished from top to bottom, other mosques were built in the City, so strong that when the nine roofs of the thousand-eyed sky fall down in the universe-quake of resurrection, not an arch of these mosques will be injured. Next the columns of the old mosques, whose walls were kneeling and bowing in prayer and whose roofs were about to fall, were made to stand up so that they once more became the ‘pillars of faith’ and prayers were said in them. The four walls (of the mosques) were strengthened and so brilliantly plastered inside and outside that their light outdid the colour of the azure sky.
Of the extension of the Jami and the subsequent construction of the Mīnār. 15a When by the grace of God15b the decayed mosques had been so firmly repaired, that like the sacred Ka‘bah they became safe from destruction, the Emperor’s noble ambition prompted him to build a peer to the high Mīnār-i-Jāmi, a structure unrivalled throughout the world. The dome of sky was to be bestowed on the (new) Mīnār, for it could not rise higher than that. First, he ordered the courtyard of the mosque to be extended as much as possible, so that the ‘fraternity of Islam’, which is fortunately too large for the whole world, may yet be contained in this world within a world. Next, in order to make the Mīnār strong, and to carry it so high that the dome of the old Mīnār might look like an arch of the new, he ordered its circumference to be twice that of the old Mīnār. On a sign from the Emperor, the planets, who are the shop-keepers of the sky, began to move their chariots. Mercury became busy in buying iron and stone and the moon began to drive the Taurus. Yes, when the ‘House of God’ is being built, the stars have to carry stones on their heads! And if they refuse to stir from their places, the Mīnār itself will rise up to them and strike their heads with stones. People were sent to search for stones on all sides. Some struck the hills with their claws, and as they were anxious to find stones, they tore up the hill-side to pieces like lovers.16a Others were keener than steel in overturning infidel buildings. They sharpened their iron instruments, went to wage a holy war againstt he castles of the (old) rāīs, and fought a ferocious battle against the stones with their muscles of steel. Wherever an idol temple had kneeled down in prayer, the ‘arguments’ of the strong-tongued spade removed the foundations of infidelity from its heart, till finally the temple placed its head in thanksgiving on the ground.16b The stone slabs bore ancient inscriptions made by the ‘Preceptor of Angels’;16c but as the pen of Destiny had ordained that all these stones would have the good news—‘Indeed he builds the mosques of Allāh’—written upon them, they thrust the point of their pickaxes into the hard hearts (of the buildings) and threw (the stones) to the ground. Then the iron of the shovels, having turned into a magnet in contrariety to its nature, drew the stones to itself, and labourers with bodies of steel brought these stones from temples a hundred farsangs away. The stony back of the mosque had a large mass of stones put upon it; stones, such as the sky could not have drawn to itself, were taken to the sky; and rocks, such as the mountains could not hold on their backs, were brought upon the backs of the animals.
The stone-cutters of Hind, who excel Farhād in their art, took out their hatchets and smoothed the stones so artistically, that if imagination had put its feet upon them, it would have certainly slipped. The masons of Delhī, who consider Ni‘mān Manẓar a novice in the art of building, used their professional skill and joined stone to stone so that there was no danger of any secret crevice or cavity remaining between them. The doors and walls of the mosque, which formerly performed their tayammum17a with the dust, have now been raised so high that they perform their ablutions with water from the clouds. This has happened in the year A.H. 711. To carry it higher, human life must be based on a foundation firmer than that of the Mīnār; only then could the tower, which has risen out of the earth, be carried to the sky. And though I wish to see it finish, my life will have to be long before I am able to witness its completion and send my blessings to its pious founder. Besides my sight cannot reach its end; I am one of those who come and see and depart.
Construction of the strong fort of the City, in which a second wall o?? Alexander17b appeared on the face of the globe:—17c The fort of Delhī, the deputy of the sacred Ka’ba, had fallen down. Owing to the ravages of time, it was in a condition of dilapidation worse than that which has overtaken taverns17d in the reign of the august Emperor. Like a man dead drunk, it had fallen down in place and out of place, quite unable to keep its stones together. Sometime it placed its head on the ground before the common people of the public highway; on other occasions, it had bowed down in salutation to the worthless ditch. Its towers had once been so high that a man’s hat fell down if he attempted to look at them; but now, from continued ill-treatment, they lay down to sleep on the earth. When the ‘Alāī era of public works arrived (May it last for ever!), the Emperor ordered stones and bricks of gold to be taken out of the flourishing exchequer and spent in defraying the expenses of the fort.18a Skilful masons applied themselves to the work and a new fort was quickly built in place of the old. The new fort with its strong forearm and seven towers shakes hands with the coloured Pleiades, squeezes the powerful Mars under its arm-pit, and uses the high sky as a sort of waistband. It is a necessary condition that blood be given to a new building; consequently, many thousand goat-bearded Mughals have been sacrificed for the purpose. When the edifice—many congratulations to its founder— was completed, the Guardian of the Universe took it under His protection. How will any trouble or insurrection find its way to the place of which God is the guardian?
Construction of other forts, which, owing to the Emperor’s favour, now raise their heads to the sky:—18b When the masons of the Imperial capital had been recompensed for the buildings in the City, the Emperor ordered that wherever in any part of the Empire there was a fort, which had been affected by the moist winds of the rainy season, or was about to doze or go to sleep, or had opened wide its cracks and cast away its teeth (from old age), or grew yellow flowers in the rainy season, or was laughing through its walls or falling on its neck, or had the snakes of Zuḥḥāk19a living in its ears (corners), or bred rats in its arms (wings), it was to be repaired; so that instead of crevices frequented by scorpions and snakes, its towers rose stronger than the constellation of Scorpio, and as high as the Saggitarius and the Pleiades.
Of the new buildings in the country, villages and cities, which fill the whole Empire with ‘tasbih’ (praises of God) and ‘aẓan’ (call to prayer). 19b All mosques which lay in ruins—the vaults of some had fallen to the ground, the walls of others had crumbled down after having been repeatedly patched and repaired, the (interior of) some was compelled by the wind to perform an ablution (tayammum) with dust every day, the pillars of others had daily bathed in the rain and then laid themselves down—were built anew by a profuse scattering of silver. Prayers were said regularly in all, with blessings on their pious founder.
Account of the Royal Tank (Hauẓ-i-Sulṭāni), which holds the water of immortality in solution. 19c The Royal Tank, known as the ‘Shamsī Tank’,19d will (now) shine like the sun till the dawn of resurrection. But (formerly) the sun every day made it a mirror for seeing its own face, and it reflected back the light of the sun. But as the latter shone hotly upon it, it slowly sank down out of respect for the sun. ‘If your water should go down,’ the sun asked in its rage, ‘who is it then that will bring you flowing water?’ And the tank dried up from fear. This year the revolving sky flared up all of a sudden, and the water of the tank evaporated so thoroughly that its bottom cracked and broke into pieces. In his contempt for the ‘king of the planets,’ the ‘Emperor of the world’19e ordered the sand and mud to be removed from the bottom of the tank. And as the sun from on high had been drying up its water, a dome, such as put that luminary into falling fits, was built over it. Then rain came on, and the ‘eyes’ of the clear-hearted tank, which had dried up at the sun, were again filled with water. Strange the sympathy of the tank, that it should weep (at the helplessness) of the sun! But such is the custom of noble persons. Immediately sweet water became available in the City and a tumult rose up from the City wells. But though it had rained once through the kindness of Heaven, the bottom of the tank was too dry to become moist with a single draught. All clear water, that fell from the cloud, sank into the earth like the treasure of Qārūn.20a 20b There can be no doubt that Delhī is a city, which even the Nile and the Euphrates cannot provide with sufficient drinking water. And so the people of the City were faced with the same destruction that had threatened the followers of Moses. The Emperor—whose sharp sword has thrown the Pharaohs of infidelity into the Nile, or, to put it differently, whose Nile-like sword has been drowned in the yellow blood of Jewish tempered20c tunic-weavers—in this general scarcity of water, when even the Jamna had become dry, raised up his ‘white hand’, like Moses, to pray to God for water. Immediately, in proof of the text,—‘And we made the clouds to give shade over you’—the shadow (of his hand) fell over a little dry earth. The spades and the pickaxes in the hands of the excavators became like the staff of Moses. Two or three springs appeared on the four sides of the embankment (chautra). ‘So there flowed from it twelve springs; each tribe knew its drinking place.’ In a few days the water reached the edge of the embankment; and having met it (the embankment) after a long time, the water shook hands with it and hugged it with a hearty embrace, just as the sea embraces the land. Khusrau has written these lines in praise of the tank and its dome: ‘The dome in the centre of the tank is like a bubble on the surface of the sea. If you see the dome and the tank rightly, you will say that the former is like an ostrich egg, half in water and half out of it.’20d
21a As the public works which have been, and are being, constructed by this pious builder (May he live for ever!), surpass what the pen can describe, out of many Imperial buildings I have contented myself with the description of those given above in acknowledgment of my own limitations. Now I will move my tongue, which is surrounded by wise teeth, and describe some of the victories this world-conquering Alexander has achieved through heavenly assistance, the territories he has conquered and the forts he has reduced. Thus I will bring out of my mind the treasures that lie buried there, and at every victory I will scatter (prose) under the foot of my pen in these pages.
The first victory of the (Imperial) Army over the gluttons of Kadar in the contines of Jāran Manjūr. 23a This is the account of the victory, which the champions of the triumphant army obtained, for the first time during the reign of this Sanjar-like Sulṭān (May God protect his standards!) over the soldiers of the accursed Kadar in the land of Jāran Manjūr. When the subtle Tatār, accompanied by an army like an avenging deluge, came as presumptuous as ever from the Jūdī mountains, and crossed the Bīās, Jelum and Sutlej,23b the advancing wave of the hellites burnt down all the villages (talwārah23c) of the Khokars, so that the flames illuminated the suburbs of the City, and the buildings of Quṣūr were demolished. Such a wailing arose that the sound of it reached the august Emperor of the world.23d 23e The late Ulugẖ Khān, the arm of the state, was sent with the right wing of the army, supported by great generals and troops, to wage a holy war. He was to go to the infidels to show them his strong and closed fist. 23f The Khān, whose bow was like that of Arsh,23g flew as fast as one of his own arrows; and making two marches in one, he reached the borders of Jāran of Manjūr, the field of battle. Only the distance of a bowshot remained between the two armies. On Wednesday, the 22nd Rabī‘ul Akhir, A.H. 697 the great Muslim Khān came into contact with the infidels. He ordered the standard-bearers to bind the victorious standards to their backs; for the sake of their honour, they turned their faces towards the Sutlej, and without the aid of boats, they swam over the river, striking out their hands23h like oars impelling a boat. 23i The Mugẖals seemed very brave before the victorious army had plunged into the river; but when the wave of Muslim troops reached the middle of the stream, they gave way. Unable to bear the fire of the sword, they fled desperately; and though in number like ants and locusts, they were trampled under the feet of the horsemen like an army of ants. The Mugẖals wished to sink into the ground; for the sword was so busy on the bank that blood flowed like surkhāb24a on the river. The champions of the army could split a hair of the eyelash without injuring the eye; and in the twinkling of an eye, they had sewn up the stony eyeballs of some Mugẖals as you might sew up the eyes of a hawk, while their arrows pierced the iron hearts of others as a key goes into a lock. When a breast, like a rusty lock, refuses to open, it should be opened in no other way than this. In short, twenty thousand ferocious Mugẖals were sent to sleep on the ground in mourning at their own death by the powerful (Imperial) lions. A very large part of Kadar’s army (tumān) was cut to pieces with blows of axe and spear. Some Mugẖals whose bones had been ground to powder, were sent off to their journey24b in that condition. Others had become unconscious through fear, but life still remained in their bodies; their heads were cut off, and so they departed without their heads. Most of the survivors were imprisoned. ‘Lay hold on him, then put a chain on him’.24c The iron collar, which loves the Mugẖal necks, enclosed them with the greatest affection and squeezed them hard. ‘This is the punishment of the enemies of Islam,’ cried their chains with a loud voice.
24d When the blood-smeared heads of the Tatārs had filled the battle-field with thousands and thousands of wine glasses, the jackals of the forest collected together and held a feast by the river-side. After slaughtering the execrable carcass-eaters of Qaidū,24e who are both Turks of the tribe of Qai (vomit) and the eaters of vomit (qai), the victorious army of the Khalīfa (May he reign for ever!) prepared to return. The late Ulugẖ Khān (May God give him pure wine to drink!) first held a pleasure-party to commemorate the great victory and scattered gold and jewels among his comrades of war and peace. Then intoxicated with happiness, he spurred his horse to kiss the ground before the Imperial Court. The prisoners, who looked like the teeth of mad elephants, were put to death. Meanwhile, the Emperor, like Kai-Khusrau,25a had seen the image of this victory in the world-compassing mirror of his own mind, and moved his tongue in gratitude at the realization of his wishes. ‘If you are grateful, I would certainly give to you more.’25b He then gave himself up to rejoicings. He called the commanders (khāns) of the left and right wings25c to a great feast, and bestowed such favours on the citizens and the army, that they were freed from all labour (God protect us from it!). If you asked water in alms from a beggar, he would give you wine.25d
This is the account of another victory of the Muslim army over the Mugẖals. 26a When ‘Alī Beg, Tartāq and Targẖi came with drawn swords from the borders of Turkestān to the river Sind (Indus), and after crossing the Jelum like an arrow, turned their faces in this direction, Targẖi, who had once or twice fled away from the attacks of the victors, already saw his bald head on the spears of the champions of Islām, like a wine cup placed over a ladle. Although he had an iron heart, yet he dare not place it within the reach of the anvil-breaking warriors of God. But he was at last shot by an arrow, which penetrated his heart and passed to the other side. ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq, who had never been to this country before, mistook the arched swords of Musalmāns for those of mere preachers. They ventured with single heads on their shoulders into a country, where if a man brought a thousand heads, he could not take one of them back. They had fifty thousand trained and ferocious horsemen; the hills trembled at their tread. The confounded inhabitants at the foot of the hills fled away at the fierce attack of these wretches and rushed to the fords of the Ganges. But the lightning of Mugẖal fury penetrated to that region also and smoke arose out of the towns of Hindustān.26b People fled from their burning houses, and with their heads and feet on fire, threw themselves into rivers and torrents. At last from these desolated tracts news came to the Imperial Court. The Emperor sent his confidential officer, Malik Naik, Akhūr Beg-iMaisarah, with thirty thousand powerful horsemen, and directed him to slaughter without stint and to shoot such an arrow at the accursed mark as might create a fearful rent in their work (strategy). Across a distance which was longer than the day of the idle, the victorious army passed more quickly than the lives of the busy. On Thursday, 12 Jamādīus Ṯanī, A.H. 705 they overtook the doomed enemy. Immediately on seeing the dust of the Muslim army, the grovelling Mugẖals became like particles of sand, revolving above and below. Hard-lived though they were, their souls fled out of them; nor could their iron hearts remain in their places to serve as anchors for their souls. Like a swarm of gnats warring against a hurricane, in proportion to their attempt to move forward, they were taken further back. And the Angel of Death cried out to them: ‘Flight shall not do you any good if you fly from death or slaughter.’27a From necessity (rather than choice), they made a feeble attack though their enthusiasm had declined. But the army of the Second Alexander, which you might call an iron wall, was not a thing that would bend. It drove away those doers of the deeds of Gog; and in expectation of Divine assistance—‘and He has sent an army, which you do not see’—the sharp sword began to do its work. Soon fire-coloured faces fell to the ground. One would think that the Muslim swordsmen were throwing balls of fire over running water. In this universal cutting of heads, ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq, the two ‘heads’ of the Mugẖals, saw the sword above them and the time of their fall near. Their faces grew dark from the blazing heat of the all-conquering sword, and they threw themselves under the shade of the Muslim standard. ‘The rays of the sword have struck us with such a fire,’ they said, ‘that we will never be satisfied till we have reached the “Shadow of God”’. The man laid low with misfortunes cannot find happiness anywhere except under the ‘shadow of God’.
27b The field of battle, strewn with elephant-bodied Mugẖals, looked like a chess-board. Their faces (castles) had been cut into two with the sword, and their bodies, pounded with the clubs (gurz), looked like bags for holding the chess-men. The dead Mugẖal lay right and left like so many captured pieces. Of the ‘horses’ (knights) which had filled the squares, some had been knocked down with blows and others had been captured. Such knights, as after the manner of pawns, refused to go back, were turned into foot-men (pawns), and since they moved still further, they became farzin (queens), i.e. they were made to place their heads on the ground.28a ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq, the two kings of the chess-board, were checkmated by their large-boned enemy, the Malik Akhur Beg, who wished to send them to the Emperor, so that he may either spare their lives or else cast them under the feet of the elephants (bishops). 28b When Satan’s puppets, i.e. the infidel troops, were brought bound before the Imperial throne, the two adventurers, who had claimed equality (with the Sulṭān), cast their eyeballs like dice on the carpet of submission, and appealed to the Emperor’s manliness in order to save their lives. Two different orders were given concerning these ‘red and white ones’;28c some were to be put to death and others imprisoned. The two captured pieces,28d who had hitherto remained in suspense, were brought to their prison and freed from the danger of death. In the course of time one of them died, without any harm having been done to him, and the other remained alone. The Emperor was so successful in the sport that he took their lives in one game after another.28e
Account of another victory and the slaughter of the Mugẖal tumāns, who had raised an uproar under the dog, Kapak. 29a When the fierce29b infidel army (God destroy it!) came proudly like autumn into the garden of Hindustān, the southernmost of the fertile countries, towards the end of Diy,29c dust arose from the borders of the land of Sind and the inhabitants threw away their property and dispersed like autumnal leaves. But the storm of destruction, being unable to raise any dust in the regions of Kohrām and Sāmāna, turned towards the wilderness of Nāgore, and overpowered the inhabitants of that region. When the stench of these doomed carcass-eaters led by a hound increased, the sweet Nāgori rose, which smells like rubbed sandal-wood, turned fetid. Messengers fast as the wind brought news of this stench to the perfumed palace of the victorious Emperor, whose virtues are fragrant like the navel of a musk-deer. In abhorrence of those men with stinking brains, he ordered the Muslim army to proceed against them; but the news was to be kept a secret, lest in fear of the approaching sandal, the horrid stench should fly back to the fragrant willows of Khorasan. The Malik of fragrant virtues, ‘Izzuddoulah waddin Kāfūr-i Sulṭānī (May the Imperial Court be perfumed with his talents!) was appointed to lead the army. The deer-riding lions went so quickly that they made no distinction between the darkness of night and the light of dawn till they had reached their stinking prey. And when the turmeric-coloured dust of the holy warriors had bathed the anice-smelling Mugẖals, the latter also became fragrant. 30a On the banks of the Ab-i ‘Alī30b the Mugẖals were overtaken by a weak wave from the swelling stream of Muslim enthusiasm. The accursed Kapak fell into a rushing torrent of swords and began to strike out his hands and feet; the sharp sword was about to cut off his head, when the kind-hearted Mussalmāns rushed in from all sides and took him prisoner, in order to send the water-dog with the other aquatics to the Imperial Court. All the followers of Kapak were either killed or imprisoned; some were shot with arrows and became cold where they stood; the rest had still some water from the stream of life left, but the wind of Divine wrath blew against them and they were put into chains.
Another Mugẖal army, under Iqbāl Mudbir30c and Mudābīr Tāī Bū, followed close behind Kapak’s, thirsty for the blood of Mussalmāns, but well filled with the blood of their own tribes. Suddenly a torrent of blood of the slaughtered infidels flowed towards them, but as they were well accustomed to such a flood, they dived to the bottom. The swelling stream of blood, however, reminded them of the sharp sword; for a great slaughter was awaiting them. Though they tried to strike out their feet, they found no space to stand on. Meanwhile the van of the Muslim army advanced like clouds and rain, and fell like a raging storm on these men from Jaihūn. All of them fled from the rain of arrows, and wished like dogs to seek refuge in any gutter. On every side the army advanced like waves of a deluge that goes over mountains and caverns with tumult and noise. 30d News was brought to the commander of the Muslim troops30e that the Mugẖals had two heads, one Iqbāl and the other Tāī Bū. When the right wing of the Imperial army fell upon them, they lost all consciousness of hand and feet, and the two Mugẖal leaders were flying by the same passage across the Sind (Indus). But as they had forgotten their ‘feet’, neither did their ‘feet’ remember their ‘heads’; and it was high time for the Imperial sword to strike off their ‘heads’ and throw them before their ‘hands’ and ‘feet’!31a 31b So by the firmān of the commanders of the army, bold and strong-armed warriors took their swords in hand, spurred their horses across the extensive desert and soon overtook the retreating Mugẖals. In that garden of death heads were struck off and necks were cut open, so that the sword sometimes reached the throat and sometimes the waist. Owing to the sword of the holy warriors, the deluge of blood came up to the nose of the infidels; yet not a drop of blood came out of a Mussalmān’s nose. When the victorious army, which had girded up its loins for holy war in defence of the Faith of the Lord, saw conclusive proof of the text, —‘And surely Allāh will help him who helps His cause’—it enacted the scenes of resurrection on the innumerable bodies of these accursed wretches. You would have thought that the Day of Judgment had arrived, and that the angels of the Lord were collecting the dead bodies of stony-hearted infidels to light the fire of Hell, ‘of which men and stones are the fuel.’ Countless infidels having been sent to Hell in that extensive territory, another great multitude of them was consigned to the angels of torture to be put in ‘chains and shackles’ and brought to the review. At the head of the chain was the accursed Kapak, a hound from amongst the hounds of Hell. He had been captured among the amīrs of Jar Tāī Bū’s tumān and testified with him to the fact that the people of the north had resorted to flight. All the other (Mugẖals) were either despatched to the pit of Hell or else put in the same chains with those destined for that place. The virtuous Malik31c moved back with his troops to the Court of the august Emperor (May his kingdom last for ever!). Time after time he kept on sending fresh news to the Lord’s deputy,31d and was in reply favoured with a robe of honour. Finally he reached the Imperial Court, and brought the hellish crew to the muster of the Judgment Day. ‘When the earth is shaken with her (violent) shaking,’ cried the huge elephants as they threw most of these cotton wearers (i.e. Mugẖals) high up in the air; and (the cotton wearers) became like ‘loosened wool.’ 32a But as even the enormous elephants, who are like strong houses on moving pillars, were not able to destroy all the desolators of this country, order was given that the base of the towers of the Fort (kangar-i-ḥiṣār) was to be constructed from the blood and bones of the remaining (Mugẖals). Immediately in obedience to the Imperial command, Tātārs and Chinese were hung from the Fort as negroes32b with heads inverted hang down from a new building. 32c Owing to the mixture of the Mugẖal bodies with the material of the towers, the confluence of Mars and Saturn was witnessed, and the evil influence of the confluence fell on the lives of these men of Mars. For even after all the towers had been constructed, many of these doomed men were left. Their wretched heads were cut off with shining swords and a bastion, so high that it touched the head of the sky, was formed of them. Mars hung its head (in shame) at the sight. The constellations of the sky have but a single ‘head,’ but here you may see a hundred thousand ‘heads’ in a single constellation (bastion).
Later historians have so confused the account of these generals that I have, for the sake of clearness, reserved their discussion for a separate note.
As to the other authorities, Amīr Khusrau has devoted some lines of his Dawal Rānī to the same campaigns. ‘After this (defeat of ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq) three fierce (Mugẖal) generals, who moved more rapidly than the wind, crossed the territory of Multān and began to ravage the land of the Rāvī. One of them was Tāī Bū, the other was Iqbāl Mudbir and the third was Kapak, wise in war and revenge. Their armies, innumerable as grains of sand (had come) to take revenge for the fate of Tartāq and ‘Alī Beg. According to his custom, the Emperor ordered the Minister of the State, Kāfūr (camphor), to disperse the stench of Tāī Bū, so that no trace of it may remain. The great warrior marched rapidly, and crossing two stages in one night, came upon the Mugẖals like a storm and dispersed their wretched ranks. The blood of the Tātārs rose high up to the breast of the horses in that extensive desert. The infidel dogs fled in panic; the holy warriors pursued them like lions. Iqbāl and Tāī Bū fled from the battle-field toward the rivers. Though they had collected spoils before this, now the preservation of their own heads was all they wished for. The Army of Faith advanced like a river and Kapak was drowned; it pounced like a falcon and carried off Kapak as if he was a partridge. A collar was placed round the neck of the great hound and he was sent to the Emperor of the World.’ In spite of the mixed metaphors, these lines will leave on the reader the impression that Iqbāl, Tāī Bū, and Kapak were three generals taking part in the same campaign, though, of course, each commanded a different army.
Barnī’s account is loose and inaccurate.
‘On another occasion, in another year, the army of Islām came to a battle with the accursed Kank and the Mugẖal troops at Khakar. God granted victory to Muslim arms. The accursed Kank, leader of the Mugẖal army, was brought captive and alive before the Sulṭān’s throne, and there cast under the feet of elephants. On this occasion also, either in the field of battle or else after being brought to Delhī, enormous numbers of Mugẖals were slain. A tower of their heads was raised before the Badāun Gate; people see it till to-day and it reminds them of, ‘Alāuddīn.
‘On another occasion, in another year, three or four Mugẖal amīrs of tumans broke into the Siwāliks suddenly and heedlessly with thirty or forty thousand horse and engaged in plunder and slaughter. ‘Alāuddīn sent the army of Islām against them with orders to seize the road by which the Mugẖals were to return to the river; when the Mugẖals returned thirsty to the water-side, it was to mete out their punishment to them. The Muslim army seized the passages of the Mugẖal retreat and encamped by the river-side. As God had ordained, having laid waste the Siwāliks and travelling a long distance thence, the Mugẖals and their horses reached the river thirsty and in disorder. The Muslim army, which had been waiting for their return for a few days, obtained the desired supremacy over them. The Mugẖals, taken by surprise, begged for water from the Muslim army. They were all taken captive along with their women and children. A great victory had crowned the Muslim arms. Thousands of Mugẖals were sent to the fort of Narāniya with ropes round their necks; their women and children were brought to the Delhī slave-market and sold away like Hindustānī slaves. The Malik Khās-i-Ḥājib was sent to Narāniya from the capital. He went there and put unhesitatingly to the sword all the Mugẖals who had been brought to the fort after the victory. Streams ran with their foul blood.
‘In another year Iqbālmandah came with the Mugẖal army. Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn sent the army of Islām from Delhī against them. This year also the Muslim army gained a victory over the Mugẖals. After a feebly fought battle, Iqbālmanda was slain and thousands of Mugẖals were put to the sword. The hazara and sada amīrs, who had been caught alive, were brought to Delhī and cast under the feet of elephants. On the occasion when Iqbālmanda was slain, no Mugẖal escaped alive.’
Two later historians deserve citation.
‘In the year A.H. 705,’ says Ferishta, ‘one of the great amīrs of Dāwa Khān, named Kank, came with a large army to seek revenge for a ‘Alī Beg and Khwāja Taryāl. He had passed the precincts of Multān and reached the Siwāliks, when Ghāzl Malik Tugẖlaq prepared his army for battle and seized the banks of the river Nīlāb, thus cutting off the Mugẖal retreat. The Mugẖals plundered and ravaged; then after a long journey, when the air was hottest, they came back to the banks of the Nīlāb with inflamed livers and parched lips, ignorant of the snare of their enemy. But when they saw the river of life in the enemy’s hands, they naturally despaired of their lives and gave battle to the army of Hindustān. Most of the Mugẖals were slain; Kank was captured alive while those who escaped from the battle-field died of thirst in the forest. Their women and children were taken prisoners. This was a strange event, for out of fifty or sixty thousand Mugẖals not more than three or four thousand were left alive. Ghāzī Malik, who became very famous on account of this victory, sent Kank with a large number of Mugẖal prisoners to the Sulṭān. ‘Alāuddīn had Kank and his comrades thrown under the elephants’ feet near the Hazār Sutun Palace, and then constructed a tower of Mugẖal heads in the plain before the Badāūn Gate. It is said that traces of it remain till to-day. This year the Mugẖal women and children were sold in Delhī and the rest of Hindustān like Hindi prisoners of war.
‘A long while after this a Mugẖal, named Iqbālmand, came to Hindustān with an immense army and wrought much damage. But Ghāzī Malik Tugẖlaq marched against Iqbālmand and after slaying him sent many live Mugẖals to Delhī to be trodden down by the enormous elephants. Fear and terror now overtook the Mugẖals; the desire of coming to Hindustān was washed off from their breasts; and they created no trouble till the end of Sulṭān Quṭbuddīn’s reign. Ghāzī Malik Tugẖlaq was stationed at Depālpūr. Every year he led expeditions to Kābul, Ghaznīn, Qandhār and Garmsīr, plundered and ravaged those regions and levied tribute from their inhabitants. The Mugẖals had not the courage to come and defend their own frontiers against him.’
Nizāmuddīn’s account is based on Barnī.
‘Next time a Mugẖal, named Kabīk, came with a large army and fought a battle with the army of Delhī at Khakūr. Most of the Mugẖals were slain and a tower of their heads was constructed near the Badāūn Gate.
‘After a while a Mugẖal army of thirty thousand horse came to the Siwāliks and began to plunder. When the Sulṭān heard of it, he sent a large army against them. The army of Delhī seized the banks of the Rāvī, across which the Mugẖals had to return; and when the Mugẖals, loaded with spoils, came to the river-side, the army of Delhī advanced and defeated them. Many Mugẖal officers were captured and imprisoned in the fort of Tarāīnah, which is situated in that neighbourhood, while their families and followers were brought to the City and sold as slaves. After this the Malik Khās-i Ḥājib was ordered to go to Tarāīnah to put the prisoners to death.
‘A long time after this Iqbālmandah, a famous Mugẖal, came to India with a large army. An engagement took place between him and the army of Delhī at Daradahindah Amir ‘Alī (?). Iqbālmandah was slain and the other Mugẖāls were brought to Delhī, where they were thrown under the feet of elephants.’
Of the five accounts before us, Nizāmuddīn merely summarizes Barnī and need not be further considered. The only addition he makes is the identification of the river mentioned by Barnī with the Rāvī. Ferishta apparently had only Nizāmuddīn and Dawal Rānī before him, and plays havoc with facts and names. Of the three original authorities Tārīkh-i-Fīrozī, Dawal Rānī and Khazāīnul Futūh the last two are fairly consistent, but it is difficult to reconcile them with the Tārī-Khi Fīrozī. Amīr Khusrau speaks of the three generals as if they had planned a joint push, Kapak leading the advanced contingents while the other two marched behind. Malik Kāfur (not Ghāzī Malik as in Ferishta) was the commander of the Delhī army. Barnī speaks of three campaigns in three different, if not successive, years. The first is led by Kapak, the name of the commander of the second is not given, while the third is assigned to Iqbālmandah. I am inclined to agree with Amīr Khusrau, who wrote during ‘Alāuddīn’s reign while Barnī’s paragraphs may not have been written till years after. Military matters did not interest Barnī, his geographical knowledge was meagre and his dates are often incorrect.
Published with marginal explanations by Newal Kishore Press, Lucknow.
↩One of the letters has been translated in Elliot and Dowson. There are others of equal and greater value.
↩Alluding to the First Alexander’s efforts to discover the water of immortality.
↩Wine and sugar may be both produced from the same grapes and the addition of salt turns wine into vinegar.
↩The same fate has overtaken other medieval histories, for example the first volume of Baihaqi, the Autobiography of Mohammad bin Tughlaq and the last chapter of Afif’s Tarikh-i-Firoz-Shahi, which was a violent attack on Timur and is found torn or missing in most volumes.
↩In the first invasion, the Mongols were led by Kutlugh Khwaja and in the second by Targhi. Barni, who is brief and hasty in his account of wars, gives a detailed account of the two sieges of Delhi, probably because Kabīruddīn and Amīr Khusrau had preferred to be silent about them.
↩Barni, our standard historian for the period, is very parsimonious and incorrect in dates.
↩Allusions to victories.
↩The Qurān, chap. iii, sect. 13; refers to a famous battle of the Prophet.
↩Persian doxologies are usually very florid and the Khazā‘īnul Futūḥ is no exception. I have omitted a few sentences from this paragraph. It does not come within the scope of these notes to explain intricate literary allusions, which have no historical significance.
↩Allusions to authorship.
↩Allusions to prose and verse.
↩i.e., the throne of Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn. He is referred to under the names of past monarchs at various places in the book. For the mysterious beings called jins see the Qurān, chap. lxxii, and for the story of Solomon and the Ant, chap. xxvii, sect. 2.
↩‘Poetry was Amīr Khusrau’s mother tongue; prose he wrote with great difficulty and effort.’
↩Allusions to water.
↩‘Alāuddīn, as Barnī tells us, had assumed the title of the ‘Second Alexander’; it is found in his inscriptions and on his coins.
↩Allusions to the mirror.
↩The mirror of the First Alexander was supposed to have been made by Aristotle and placed on the top of a tower constructed at Alexandria.
↩Allusions to the word of God.
↩Title of chap. lvii of the Qurān.
↩Allusions to the Caliphs of Islām. The first Caliph, Abū Bakr, was reputed for his truthfulness; the second, Umar, for his stern justice; the third, ‘Uṯmān, collected the chapters of the Qurān; and the fourth, ‘Alī, was famous for his learning and courage.
↩The Abbāsīde Caliphate had been crushed by the Mongol barbarians. Baghdād itself had been sacked by Halāku Khān in A.D. 1258 and the sole surviving scion of the dynasty of Hārūnur Rashīd had fled for refuge to Egypt.
↩Muslim marriages required the presence and the certificate of the Qāzī or State law-officer. The Dīwān-i-Quzā was the Imperial Department of Justice, presided over by the Sadrus Sudūr or the Head Qāzī of Delhī.
↩Allusions to the spring.
↩A play on the word ‘bahār’, which means spring and is written in the same way as Bihār.
↩i.e., became Sulṭān of Delhī. The Sulṭān was styled the ‘Shadow of God’ (Zilullah).
↩A fortified village. The medieval Karra is near the modern Allahabad.
↩A fragrant yellow flower. For an account of ‘Alāuddīn’s Deogīr expedition, see Appendix A.
↩Najibs.
↩Allusions to history and books.
↩‘Alāuddīn was appointed governor of Karra-Mānikpūr (Allahabad) after the suppression of Malik Chajjū’s rebellion in the second year of Jalāluddīn’s reign. He distinguished himself by ravaging Chanderī, and then without Jalāluddīn’s permission, he marched to Deogīr and plundered it. Rāī Rām Deo had to pay an enormous indemnity but was left in possession of his lands. On returning to Karra, ‘Alāuddīn succeeded in prevailing on the Sulṭān, who was his uncle and father-in-law, to come to see him unattended, and had him murdered during the interview on the 16th Ramazān, A.H. 695 (Wednesday, July 17, 1296). Apart from the Deogīr exploit, these events were not creditable to ‘Alāuddīn, and Amīr Khusrau, who was deeply attached to the murdered Sulṭān, has not attempted to justify them. For more details, see Barnī and Ferishsta.
↩Allusions to the history of Moses.
↩Jethro, the father-in-law of Moses. The quotations from the Qurān in this paragraph refer to Moses’ conversation with God.
↩Alf Khān or Ulugh Khān was the title of ‘Alāuddīn’s younger brother, Ilmās Beg. It was Ilmās Beg’s duplicity that induced Jalāluddīn to come to ‘Alāuddīn’s camp without his army.
↩A weight of forty uqiyats (ounces) of gold. Here used in the general sense of ox-loads and bags.
↩After Sultān Jalāluddīn’s assassination, his youngest son, Ruknuddīn Ibrāhīm, was placed on the throne by Jalāluddīn’s widow, the Malka-i-Jahān. But ‘Alāuddīn won over the people and organized his army by a liberal distribution of the treasure he had obtained at Deogīr; and the Malka-i-Jahān and Ruknuddīn fled away to Multān as soon as ‘Alāuddīn’s army crossed the Jamna and encamped at Sīrī.
↩The City (Shahr) in the language of those days always meant Delhī. Other cities were called by their names. A certain sanctity was attached to the capital of the country, and it was referred to with respect.
↩Allusions to the dignities of States.
↩In spite of his dazzling conquests, it was as an administrator that ‘Alāuddīn excelled. Amīr Khusrau’s florid rhetoric simply comes to this: it is much better giving good government to your own subjects than to conquer foreign lands, which you may or may not be able to retain. ‘One can do anything with bayonets except sit upon them.’ It is to be regretted that in spite of his sensible views, the author should have given us such a scanty account of ‘Alāuddīn’s administrative and economic measures.
↩Allusions to stars.
↩The Qurān, chap. iv, sect. 12. The full extract will make the meaning clearer.
‘If they (the non-Muslims) withdraw from you and do not fight you and offer you peace, then Allāh has not given you a way against them… If they do not withdraw from you and (do not) offer you peace and restrain their hands, then seize them and kill them wherever you find them; and against these we have given you a clear authority.’
↩i.e. the Sulṭān.
↩Tanka, the ancestor of the modern rupee, was the silver and gold coin of the Empire of Delhī. The copper coin was called jītal.
↩Allusions to gold and balances of gold.
↩Allusions to horses, swift as the wind.
↩i. e. the Emperor.
↩Allusions to government (riyāsat) and shop-keepers. The shop-keepers were controlled by the Dīwān-i-Riyāsat or Ministry of Markets. For the working of the Dīwān-i-Riyāsat under the harsh but efficient Yaqūb Nāzir, see Barnī, pages 315-17, (Persian text published by the Bengal Asiatic Society and edited by Sir Syed Ahmed Khān.)
↩i.e. weights used by shop-keepers.
↩Allusions to the traditions of justice and equity.
↩i.e. the Emperor’s justice surpasses description.
↩Referring to the chaudharīs, Khots and muqaddams whose power ‘Alāuddīn had overthrown. They had started as village headmen but aspired to transform themselves into landlords and claimed the ownership of their villages. ‘Alāuddīn’s reforms deprived them of their perquisites and reduced them to the position of tenants.
↩Allusions to virtue and vice.
↩Wine and sugar may be both produced from the same grapes, and the addition of salt turns wine into vinegar.
↩The regulations for the prohibition of intoxicants are mentioned by Barnī, but he says nothing about the compulsory marriages of prostitutes. It is likely that brothels were closed along with taverns and gambling dens.
↩Allusions to peace and order.
↩Apparently, in order to steal the winding-sheet.
↩Allusions to man-eating magicians.
↩The punishment of magicians, stoned after being half buried, has not been described by Barnī, but it is only too probable considering the universal belief in magic and the atrocious punishments inflicted on those who were supposed to dabble in anything dark and mysterious. ‘No one in ‘Alāuddīn’s days,’ Barnī tells us, ‘had the courage to profess a knowledge of alchemy or magic from fear of the Emperor.’
↩Allusions to incest and punishment.
↩This is confirmed by Barnī. ‘In those years,’ he says, ‘people who committed incest and libertines appeared in the City. By the Sulṭān’s orders they were found out after a careful and diligent search and were put to death with tortures. The saw of punishment was drawn over their heads and they were cut into two. After this punishment the name of incest did not come to anyone’s lips in the City.’ By the ‘fraternity of incest’ is meant the Carmathians, Ismailes and other Shia ‘heretics’ of the sect of Seven Imams, whom the ‘orthodox’ Sunnis accused of permitting marriages within prohibited degrees and of practising incest in their secret assemblies. The charge, whether right or wrong, was generally believed. The Carmathians had captured Multān a century before Maḥmūd of Ghaznī and made their existence felt again and again in the succeeding centuries.
↩The fourth part of a misqāl; a trifling weight.
↩Allusions to seasons, corn and its rates.
↩‘‘Alāuddīn used to take royal dues from the peasants of the Doab in kind. The corn was stored in the royal granaries and brought to the market in times of famine and sold at the tariff rates.’ The economic and administrative regulations of Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn are described by Barnī in detail.
↩Out of respect for the Emperor, apparently.
↩Barnī calls it the Serā-i ‘Adl. It was constructed on the plain before the Badāūn Gate, and placed under the supervision of the Rāīs-i-Parwāna (Supervisor of the Cloth Market). Barnī gives the tariff and the detailed regulations of the cloth market.
↩Allusions to opening and closing.
↩The prices in the Serā-i ‘Adl, owing to the subsidy granted by ‘Alāuddīn to the Multāni merchants, were lower than in other towns. Cloth once brought to it was not allowed to be taken out again; nor could cloth be sold anywhere else in Delhī except the Serā-i ‘Adl.
↩The phrases added after the names of the cloths are a play upon the names of the cloths, which it would not be worth while explaining in English.
↩Allusions to fruits, ripe and sweet.
↩Barnī does not speak of fruits being sold in the Serā-i ‘Adl, but it is quite possible that a part of the market was allotted to fruit shops. ‘Alāuddīn was very particular about the maintenance of order in the markets and no disturbance was permitted.
↩Allusions to building.
↩The Quṭub Mosque, of which the Quṭub Mīnār is a part, is known by various names. ‘In histories’, Sir Syed Ahmad Khān says in the famous Asārus Sanādīd, ‘I have always seen this mosque referred to as the ‘Masjid-i-Adana-i-Delhi’ or the ‘Masjid-i Jama-i Delhi’ but never as the ‘Masjid-i Quwwatul Islam’. It is not known when the name of ‘Quwwatul Islam’ was given to it but it might have obtained this name when the temple was conquered and the mosque was built. Such mosques are seldom known to the public by their real names but only by the general designation of Jama-i Masjid.
↩Allusions to the mosque and the Mīnār.
↩The following extracts from the Asārus Sanādīd of Sir Syed Ahmad Khān will enable the reader to attach a meaning to Khusrau’s florid narrative.
‘The Incomplete Mīnār:—The Emperor ‘Alāuddīn was very desirous of fame. Consequently when he ordered the extension of the (Quṭub) Mosque in A.H. 711 (A.D. 1311), he also commanded a new Mīnār (tower) to be built in the courtyard of the mosque, twice the size of the old (Quṭub) Mīnār. The new Mīnār had a circumference of one hundred yards and its foundations were laid in the Muslim fashion—i.e., with a platform and the first door opening on the western side. It was proposed to build the new Mīnār 200 yards high. But though the Emperor had laid its foundations firmly, his own life was less secure; even the first storey had not been finished when he died and the wonderful structure was left incomplete. Some parts of the incomplete Mīnār have fallen down; only a mass of stones and lime is left.
‘The Large Gate near the Quṭub Mīnār:—When Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn became Emperor and developed an ambition for public works, he built an enormous gate for this mosque near the Quṭub Mīnār in A.H. 710 (A.D. 1311). This gate is almost wholly of red sand stone, although here and there marble has been used. On the four sides of the large gate he constructed four smaller gates, and on the western, southern, and eastern gates he has put inscriptions with his name on them. But many of the inscribed stones have fallen down and rain has eaten into many letters. The roof of the gate consists of a heavy dome. Everywhere there is fine inlaid and mosaic work, and ‘traditions’ and verses from the Qurān have been inscribed.
‘The Court of (the Quṭub Mosque):—After the gate was finished, the Emperor ordered a fourth court (darja) to be added to the mosque. The court in the centre had been constructed by Sulṭān Mu‘izzuddīn, and the two courts on either side of it by Sulṭān Shamsuddīn. ‘Alāuddīn’s court was 115 yards long, counting three feet to the yard; the foundations of nine doors had been laid and the central door was sixteen yards. In A.H. 711 (A.D. 1311) the court was being built; but unfortunately the Emperor died in A.H. 715 (A.D. 1315) and the mosque was left incomplete. If the edifice had been completed, the whole mosque would have measured 241 yards in length from east to west, and 132 yards in breadth from north to south. On the northern side the Emperor began the construction of a door, but that, too, was left unfinished. There was fine mosaic work on all these incomplete buildings, and texts and “traditions” had been inscribed. It is not known who removed these (inscribed) stones but it is clear that they have been removed. Nothing is now left except (plain) stones and lime’.
↩In allusion to Farhād, the lover of Shīrīn, who perforated a huge mountain to please his mistress.
↩Only the ruined palaces of the old rāīs or temples that had ceased to be places of worship and had fallen down, were touched. A temple used as a place of worship was inviolable by the Imperial Law.
↩i.e. Satan. A farsang, roughly speaking, is a distance of three to three and a half miles.
↩The Muslim practice is to perform ablutions (wazu) with water before prayer; but when water is not available, sand or dry earth can be used, and the ablution is then known as the tayamum.
↩Referring to the famous wall which Sikandar Zulqarnain (probably Darius I of Persia) constructed to keep off Gog and Magog (The Qurān, chap. xviii, sect. 2.)
↩Allusions to the buildings of the fort.
↩‘Alāuddīn had ordered all taverns and gambling dens of Delhi to be closed.
↩‘The ‘Alāī Delhi, or ‘Alāī Fort or Koshak-i Sīrī:—This fort was built by Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn Khiljī. When in A.H. 703 (A.D. 1303) the Emperor marched against Chitor in person and at the same time sent a large force against Warangal in Telingāna, Targẖī and the Mugẖals came and laid siege to Delhī, expecting to find it empty. But after many battles the Emperor was victorious. Afterwards he built this fort. A village, called Srī, existed here at that time; consequently, the fort was also known as the fort of Sīrī. In Sher Shāh’s time it was called the “Koshak-i Sīrī”. The fort, as built by ‘Alāuddīn, was circular, with strongly built walls of stone, brick and lime, and had seven gates. Before the fort was completed, another battle with the Mugẖals took place, and eight thousand Mugẖal heads were used in place of stones in building the walls of the fort. Though the fort has quite crumbled down, yet some traces of it are found on the left hand side when going to the Quṭub Mīnār. In A. H. 96 Sher Shāh pulled down the fort of Sīrī and built a new city near Old Delhī (i.e., Indarpat). A village, named Sháhabad, exists at the place now.’ (Asārus Sanādīd.)
↩Allusions to buildings.
↩A king of the Peshādian dynasty, proverbial for his cruelty. He had two snakes growing out of his shoulders whom he fed on human beings.
↩Allusions to buildings again.
↩Allusions to the tank, clear and moist.
↩A play on the name of the Emperor Shamsuddīn (Sun of Faith).
↩i.e. ‘Alāuddīn.
↩Cousin of the Prophet Moses. He is believed to be constantly sinking down and down, into the earth, along with all his treasures, in punishment of his niggardliness and greed.
↩Allusions to the story of Moses.
↩Because given to hoarding.
↩‘The Hauz-i Shamsī’—‘This tank was built by Sulṭān Shamsuddīn sometime about A.H. 627 (A.D. 1229) in the neighbourhood of Quṭub Sahib. It is said that the tank was constructed of red stone, but now it is quite broken and only a lake is left. This lake is 276 pukhta bighas in area. What, then, must have been the extent of the tank when it was in good repair? In A.H. 711 as it had been filled up with mud, Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn had it dredged; and exactly in its centre he constructed a platform over which he built a very beautiful dome (burjī). This dome exists till to-day. Firoz Shah, too, repaired the tank in his reign and cleared the passages by which the water used to come. But now the tank has been nearly filled up with earth, and water does not remain in it for more than three or four months’ (Asārus Sanādīd).
↩Allusions to territories and forts.
The Mugẖals or Mongols, who are the heroes of this chapter, require some introduction. They were first brought into prominence by Chengiz Khan in the beginning of the thirteenth century. The early life of Chengiz was spent in a protracted struggle against the surrounding tribes, but he emerged victorious through a combination of craft and guile, brutal strength and constructive statesmanship. His election as ‘Khan’ of the Mongolian tribes was followed by a reorganization of his people as the most efficient fighting machine in the world, organized on a system of universal conscription and blind obedience to orders. Chengiz first invaded China and then attacked the Khwarazmian Empire with an army of 800,000. No power in the Muslim world was able to withstand him. City after city fell before the barbarians, and Sultan Alauddin Mohammed Khwarazm Shah died in one of the islands of the Caspian to which he had fled for refuge. Chengiz retired to his own country from the eastern bank of the Indus, but the empire he had founded persisted for three generations, and was a terror to all mankind.
Chengiz Khan had four sons. Juji (or Tushi), the eldest, died in the life-time of his father, but Juji’s son, Batu, conquered Southern Russia, Bulgaria and part of Poland and founded his dynasty there. Ogtai, the eldest surviving son, succeeded Chengiz as ‘Khan,’ ‘Qa-an’ or ‘Khaqan.’ Chaghtai and Tului were given domains under the suzerainty of their brother. Ogtai was succeeded by his son, Kayuk (or Kapak), but after Kayuk’s short reign, the unity of the empire disappeared. The quiriltai or assembly of Mongol princes, representing the majority, elected Mangu, son of Tului, to the ‘Khakanship’ in 1251, but Qaidu Khan, supported by the descendants of Chaghtai and Ogtai, established himself in Mawaraun Nahr and maintained his independence till his death in 1301. In spite of this rift in the lute, the quiriltai of 1251 launched two important expeditions. Kublai, brother of Mangu (the ‘Kubla Khan’ of Coleridge), was sent against China, while his younger brother, Halaku Khan, was despatched against the ‘heretics’ (Ismailes) of Persia. Halaku first captured the forts of the ‘heretics’ and then proceeded to overthrow the Caliph of the orthodox. Baghdad was captured and sacked in 1258 and Halaku’s descendants, known as the ‘I-1 Khan’s,’ while acknowledging the formal superiority of the ‘Khakan,’ continued to govern Persia in practical independence during the thirteenth century. Meanwhile in the east Mangu was succeeded by Qublai, who completed the conquest of the Chinese empire.
The early successes of the Mongols had been due to the strength of their military organization, the genius of their leaders and the hardships, which the rank and file were prepared to bear. A generation of civilization sufficed to degenerate them. The I-1 Khans of Persia became Mussalmans and adopted Persian ways. The successors of Qublai were driven pell-mell out of China to their barbaric land and its barbaric ways.
Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn’s contemporaries among the ‘I-l Khans’ were—Ghazan Khan son of Arghun Khan son of Abaka Khan son of Halaku Khan, who ruled from A.H. 694 to 703 and Ghazan’s brother, Khuda Bandah Aljaitu Sultan, who ruled from A.H. 703 to 716. While the ruling dynasty had accepted Islam, many soldiers and officers adhered to their old faith. But whether Mussalman or infidel, the Mongols had not forsaken their old plundering habits and their taste for bloodshed, as the career of Timur conclusively shows.
A detailed account of the Mongols will be found in Sir Henry Howorth’s History of the Mongols, 4 vols. a monument of careful and painstaking scholarship. Sir Henry has depended mostly on translations and has, therefore, not been able to give as graphic an account of the character of the Mongols and their social system as some of the early Persian writers. The earliest account of the Mongols seems to be the Tabaqaṭ-iNasiri of Minhajus Siraj Jurjani of Delhī. The author had a first-hand knowledge of the Chengizi Mongols, against whom he had fought, and regarded them with a bitter hatred. Writing at a safe distance from the barbarians, Qazi Minhajus Siraj had no hesitation in abusing the ‘Mughal infidels,’ and the thirteenth chapter (tabaqah) of his work, devoted to the ‘Rise of the Mongols’, reads like a thrilling short story. The military superiority of Chengiz Khan had convinced the learned Qazi that the Day of Judgment was near and he quotes chapter and verse to prove this. Some chapters (including the thirteenth) of the Tabaqaṭ-iNasiri have been printed by the Royal Asiatic Society of Bengal and the inestimable Col. Raverty devoted twelve years to translating it into English. The most reliable history of the Mongols is the Tarikh-iJahan Gusha of ‘Alaūddīn Ata Malik Juwayni, who compiled his work in the time of Halaku Khan. The first two volumes of Juwayni book, comprising an account of the Khwarazmians and Mongols, have been excellently edited for the Gibb’s Memorial Series by Mr. Mohammad ibn-i ‘Abdul Wahhab Qazwini. A later work, the Jami‘ut Tawarikh of Rashiduddin, who wrote in the time of Aljaitu sultan, incorporates much fresh information and continues the history of Chengiz Khan’s successors. The first volume of the Jami‘ut Tawarikh is said to have been printed in Russia; the second volume on the ‘Successors of Chengiz Khan’ has been edited by Mr. Blochet for the Gibb’s Memorial Series. Three other Persian histories may here be mentioned—the Tarikh of Wassaf, who was a contemporary of Rashiduddin, the Tarikh-iGuzidah of Hamdullah Mustawfi and the Rauzatus Safa of Mohammad ibn-i Khawind Shah. All these writers rely mostly on the Tarikh-i-Jahan Gusha and the Jami‘ut Tawarikh.
The word Mongol requires some explanation. Early writers generally say ‘Maghūl,’ but in later writers the Waw is dropped. The ‘n’ of ‘Mongol’ is not found in Persian writers. Still it is convenient to apply the word ‘Mongol’ to Chengiz Khan and his successors and reserve the word ‘Mughal’ for the Indian Emperors of the House of Babar, who though belonging to the same race, represented a different culture and civilization. But where the Persian text says ‘Mughal,’ I have kept that word.
↩Allusions to war and victory.
↩‘This is the order observed in the original.’ (Elliot.)
↩‘The word talwarah is a common name for a village in many parts of the Upper Punjab. The talaundi of the Khakars is a local word similarly applied.’ (Elliot.)
↩The three preceding sentences have been adapted from Elliot. Qusur also means buildings.
↩Allusions to the arm.
↩Allusions to weapons.
↩A famous Persian archer.
↩Or in the alternative, shooting arrows.
↩Allusions to battle and slaughter.
↩A kind of water fowl, the anas casarca; or, in the alternative, ‘red water’.
↩i.e. the journey beyond the grave.
↩The Qurān, chapter lxix, in allusion to the punishments of the Day of Judgment.
↩Allusions to war and festivities.
↩Why Qaidu?
It is to be regretted that while Indian historians supply us with sufficient information to enable us to piece together a complete account of the Mongol invasions of India in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the Persian writers referred to in a preceding note, give us the vaguest information on the subject or else ignore it completely. Of course a raid on Indian territory led by a general of secondary importance was an insignificant matter for the historian of an empire extending from Peking to Moscow. But there was also another reason for their silence.
Ziauddin Barnī throughout speaks of the Mongols coming from Mawaraun Nahr. He says that Kūtlugh Khwaja, who besieged Delhī in the fourth year of ‘Alāuddīn’s reign, was a son of Quda, king of Mawaraun Nahr, and Targhi, who was present in that as well as later campaigns, is first brought into prominence as a general of Kūtlugh Khwaja. Quda is probably a misreading for Qaidu. We have seen that in the quirillāi of 1251 the Chaghtai and Ogtai princes refused to acknowledge the ‘Khakanship’ of Mangu and set up an independent kingship under Qaidu in Mawaraun Nahr and Turkestan. This division of Mongol power saved the kingdom of Delhī, which could not have withstood a united attack of the Mongols. The I-l Khans of Persia naturally paid homage to Mangu and his successors, who like them were descendants of Tului, but they were constantly at war with the Mameluks of Egypt in Syria, and, more often than not, had the worse of it. It is the Chaghtai and Ogtai princes of Mawaraun Nahr who are responsible for the invasions described in this chapter. They were being hard-pressed by the ‘Khakan’ in the west and by ‘I-1 Khans’ in the east and this naturally made them anxious to carve out principalities for themselves elsewhere. An account of the fortunes of the House of Qaidu will be found in Howorth, vol. i, pp. 173-82, but Persian writers, as a rule, have confined themselves to an account of the ‘Khaqans’ and ‘I-l Khans’, in whose eyes Qaidu was a rebel.
↩A famous Emperor of Persia and master of the hero, Rustam. He had a cup or mirror in which he could see all that was happening in the world.
↩The Qurān, chap. xiv, sect. 2.
↩i.e. Ulugẖ Khān and Zafar Khān.
↩The battle is referred to by Barnī and Ferishta, though they do not give detailed accounts:—
‘In the same year, A.H. 696 the Mugẖal danger arose. Some Mugẖals crossed the Sindh (Indus) and came into the country. Ulugẖ Khān and Zafar Khān with the Jalalī and ‘Alāī amīrs and a large army were sent against them. The army of Islam gave the accursed foe battle within the boundaries of Jālandar. The Muslim banner was victorious. Many Mugẖals were captured and killed and their heads were brought to Delhi (Barnī).
‘In the same year Dāwā Khān, the ruler of Mawarāun Nahr, sent some hundred thousand Mugẖals to Hindustān with the object of conquering the provinces of Punjāb, Multān and Sindh. The Mugẖals crossed the river Sindh and left nothing undone in the way of spoliation, plunder and destruction. When this news was brought to the Emperor, he sent Ilmās Bēg, Ulugẖ Khān and Hizhabruddīn Zafar Khān with an enormous army to suppress them. The two armies met each other within the confines of Lahore; a fearful battle took place and the Mugẖals were defeated. Some twelve thousand Mugẖals were put to the sword; many of their leading Amīrs were captured and put to death with tortures. Ulugẖ Khān sent the heads of the Mugẖals to Delhī along with their wives and children.’ (Ferishta).
Lahore could not have been the seat of battle, which according to Amīr Khusrau took place by the side of the Sutlej. In the Dawal Rānī, Amīr Khusrau calls the place ‘Manjūr-i-jāran,’ the name being twisted to suit the rhyme. The ‘Qar Maikhūr’ of Tabaqāt-iAkbarī is apparently a misreading for ‘Jāran Manjūr.’ I am inclined to agree with Barnī, or rather his editor, in identifying Jāran Manjūr with Jalandhar.
↩Allusions to war and holy war.
↩Used in a restricted sense, meaning Oudh and the Doab only.
↩The Qurān, chap. xxxiii, sect. 2.
↩Allusions to chess. The English names of the pieces differ considerably from the Persian. I have put the equivalents in brackets.
↩i.e. the Mugẖal horsemen were unhorsed and then killed.
↩Allusions to the game of nard. An account of the game will be found in the Ain-iAkbari of Abul Fazl.
↩In allusion to the colour of the Mugẖals and the pieces in the game of nard.
↩i.e. ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq.
↩During the eight years, A.H. 697 to 705 Delhī was twice besieged, first by Kutlugẖ Khwāja and then by Targẖī. Amīr Khusrau was not ignorant of these events; he refers to Kutlugẖ Khwāja and Targẖi in the Dawal Rānī and he speaks in the above passage of Targẖi’s previous experience of India. But respect for ‘Alāuddīn’s dignity required an omission of the two most important Mugẖal campaigns.
This campaign is described by most historians. ‘On one occasion’ says Barnī, ‘‘Alī Beg and Tartāq were the leaders of the Mugẖal army. They were famous men and ‘Alī Beg was reputed to be a descendant of the accursed Chengīz. Skirting the mountains, they reached the territory of Amroha with thirty or forty thousand men. Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn sent Malik Nāīk, the Akhūr Beg, with the Muslim army against them. The two forces came to battle within the confines of Amroha and God gave victory to the army of Islām. ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq were both captured alive. The larger part of the Mugẖal army was put to the sword, scattered and dispersed. The slain Mugẖals were piled up on the field of battle like stacks of corn. Ropes were fastened round the necks of ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq and they were brought before the Sulṭān with many other Mugẖal prisoners. Twenty thousand horses belonging to the Mugẖals were brought before the Court. A magnificent darbar was prepared at the Chautra-iSubḥānī. The Sulṭān sat in public audience and the army stood in a double row from the royal seat to Indarpat. Owing to the enormous multitude, the price of a cup of water rose to twenty jītals or half-a-tanka. Through such a crowd, ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq, together with other Mugẖals and their baggage, were taken to the throne. The captive Mugẖals were cast under the feet of elephants. And stream of blood did flow’.
The commander of the army of Islām, on this occasion, was a Hindu. The Mir‘at-i Sikandarī says that Nāīks are a tribe of outcaste Rājpūts. Be this as it may, the surname ‘Naik’ is common enough to-day. The following lines from Khusrau’s Dawal Rānī leave no doubt as to Malik Nāīk’s religion. ‘As he (Targẖī) wished to injure the Faith through his infidels, Fate decreed that he should meet his death at the hands of an infidel (Hindū). The soil of the wilderness drank the blood of the armies of ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq when the two Turkish Khāns were suddenly captured by a Hindū slave (servant) of the Court and the conflagration was quelled by the sharpness of the Imperial sword.’
Nizāmuddīn contents himself with summarising Barnī. Ferishta has Tarqāl Khwāja for Tartāq, and says that the Muslim army was commanded by Malik Mānik (an obvious misreading for Malik Nāīk) and Ghazī Malik Tugẖlaq. ‘The Sultan’, he adds, ‘distributed the captured horses equally among the amīrs and ordered the eight thousand Mugẖal heads, which had been brought, to be used instead of stones and bricks for the towers of Sīrī, which were then being built.’
↩Or Kabak. Kabīk in ‘Tabaqāt-i-Akbarī’; Kank in Ferishta. Barnī says Kapak. A tuman usually consisted of ten thousand horse.
↩Allusions to smells.
↩Winter or the first month of it, December.
↩Allusions to water.
↩Ferishta says Nilab; Barnī and Nizamuddin say the battle took place at Khakar. According to the Dawal Rani, ‘the Mugẖals crossed the territory of Multan and began to ravage the land of the Ravi.’ This seems more accurate. I am inclined to believe that the advance guard under Kapak first came to Multan and then marched up the river Ravi which in those days flowed near Multan. After the defeat of Kapak on the bank of the Ravi, the Mugẖal contingents of Iqbal and Tāī Bū tried to fly away across the same ford of the Indus. Khusrau gives no dates for this invasion and his geographical references are perplexing.
↩i.e. Iqbāl, the coward.
↩Allusions to parts of the human body.
↩i.e. Malik Kāfūr.
↩Alluding to the Mugẖal loss of morale. The ‘heads’ would be the leaders, Iqbāl and Tāī Bū, the ‘hands’ and ‘feet’ would be the officers and men.
↩Allusions to the day of judgment. The quotations following are from the Qurān.
↩Malik Kāfūr. Iqbal is here said to have been captured among the amīrs of Tāī Bū’s tumān, but according to Khusrau’s previous statement he had been captured in the battle on the bank of the Ravi.
↩i.e., ‘Alāuddīn.
↩Allusions to buildings.
↩Or, in the alternative, ‘Zangis,’ a Turkish tribe. Khusrau calls the Mongols by various names—Tatars, Turks, Chinese and Mugẖals. This is not really inaccurate, for they are all sections of the same Mongolian race and the Mongols freely enlisted their kindred tribes in their armies. The Mongols, who have given their name to the whole race, seem to have been a minor tribe in the days before Chengiz Khan. The fort referred to is the Hazar Sutun Palace or Koshak-i Siri.
↩Allusions to stars.
↩