The details of the murder of Shaikh Abú-l Fazl are thus described: Certain vagabonds had caused a misunderstanding between me and my father. The bearing of the Shaikh fully convinced me that if he were allowed to arrive at Court, he would do everything in his power to augment the indignation of my father against me, and ultimately prevent my ever appearing before him. Under this apprehension, I negociated with Nar Singh Deo. His country lay on the high road of the Shaikh from the Dakhin, and he at that period was engaged on a plundering expedition. I sent him a message, inviting him to annihilate Shaikh Abú-l Fazl on his journey, with promises of favours and considerable rewards. Nar Singh Deo agreed to this, and God rendered his aid to the success of the enterprise. When the Shaikh passed through his territory, the Rájá closed upon him and his followers. They were in a short time put to flight, and he himself murdered. His head was sent to me at Allahábád. Although my father was exasperated at this catastrophe, yet in the end I was able to visit him without any anxiety or apprehension, and by degrees his sorrow wore away, and he received me with friendliness.
One day I observed to some learned Hindús that if the foundation of their religion rested upon their belief in the ten incarnate gods, it was entirely absurd; because in this case it became necessary to admit that the Almighty, who is infinite, must be endowed with a definite breadth, length, and depth. If they meant that in these bodies the supreme light was visible, it is equally visible in all things, it is not limited to them alone; and that if they said that these incarnate gods were the emblems of His particular attributes, it is also not admissible, for, amongst the people of all religions, there have flourished persons who performed miracles, and were possessed of much greater power and talents than others of their time. After a long discourse, they at last admitted that there was a God who had no corporeal form, and of whom they had no definite notion. They said that as to understand that singular and invisible Being was beyond their comprehension, they could not form any idea of Him but by the means of some natural objects, and therefore they had made these ten figures the medium of raising their minds up to the Supreme God. I then told them that they could not attain that end by this means.
My father used to hold discourse with learned men of all persuasions, particularly with the Pandits and the intelligent persons of Hindústán. Though he was illiterate,* yet from constantly conversing with learned and clever persons, his language was so polished, that no one could discover from his conversation that he was entirely uneducated. He understood even the elegancies of poetry and prose so well, that it is impossible to conceive any one more proficient. The following is a description of his person. He was of middling stature, but with a tendency to be tall, wheat-colour complexion, rather inclining to dark than fair, black eyes and eyebrows, stout body, open forehead and chest, long arms and hands. There was a fleshy wart, about the size of a small pea, on the left side of his nose, which appeared exceedingly beautiful, and which was considered very auspicious by physiognomists, who said that it was the sign of immense riches and increasing prosperity. He had a very loud voice, and a very elegant and pleasant way of speech. His manners and habits were quite different from those of other persons, and his visage was full of godly dignity.
As I had removed the practice of levying transit duties, which amounted to many krors of rupees, throughout all the protected territories, I also extended the same indulgence to all the commercial places on the way between Kábul and Hindústán, the transit duties of which were collected annually to the amount of one kror and twenty-three lacs of dáms. The whole transit duties of both provinces, viz. Kábul and Kandahár, were paid to the public treasury, and they formed the principal part of the income of those provinces. I removed the practice altogether, and this contributed much to the prosperity and benefit of the people of Írán and Túrán.
[In the first year after my accession Khusrú, influenced by the petulance and pride which accompany youth, by his want of experience and prudence, and by the encouragement of evil companions, got some absurd notions into his head. In the time of my father's illness some short-sighted men, trembling for their crimes and despairing of pardon, conceived the idea of raising him to the throne, and of placing the reins of the State in his hands. They never reflected that sovereignty and government cannot be managed and regulated by men of limited intelligence. The Supreme Dispenser of Justice gives this high mission to those whom he chooses, and it is not every one that can becomingly wear the robes of royalty.
The vain dreams of Khusrú and his foolish companions could end in nothing but trouble and disgrace; so when I obtained the sovereignty, I confined (girifta) him, and quieted my doubts and apprehensions. Still I was anxious to be kind and considerate to him, and to cure him of his ridiculous notions; but it was all in vain. At length he concocted a scheme with his abettors, and on the night of the 20th Zí-l hijja, he represented that he was going to visit the tomb of my father. Fifty horsemen in his interest came into the fort of Ágra, and went off in that direction. A little afterwards, intelligence was brought that Khusrú had escaped. The Amíru-l umará having ascertained the fact, sent into my private apartments, desiring to speak with me on an urgent affair. I thought that perhaps some news had come from the Dakhin or from Gujarát. When I heard what had occurred, I said, “What is to be done, shall I mount and pursue him, or shall I send Khurram?” The Amíru-l umará said he would go if I would give him permission, and I said, “Be it so.” He then said, “If he will not be persuaded to return, and force becomes necessary, what am I to do?” I said, “If he will not return to the right way without fighting, do not consider what you may do as a fault—sovereignty does not regard the relation of father and son, and it is said, a king should deem no one his relation.” After having spoken these words, and settled some other matters, I sent him off. It then came to my recollection, that Khusrú had a great hatred of him. He (the Amíru-l umará) also, in consequence of the position and dignity that he holds, is envious of his peers, God forbid lest he should be malicious and destroy him! So I sent to call him back, and I despatched Shaikh Faríd Bokhárí on the service, directing him to take all the mansabdárs and ahadís he could collect. I determined that I myself would start as soon as it was day. * * The news came in that Khusrú was pressing forward to the Panjáb, but the thought came to my mind that he might perhaps be doing this as a blind, his real intention being to go elsewhere. Rájá Mán Singh, who was in Bengal, was Khusrú's maternal uncle, and many thought Khusrú would proceed thither. But the men who had been sent out in all directions confirmed the report of his going towards the Panjáb.
Next morning I arose, and placing my reliance on God, I mounted and set off, not allowing myself to be detained by any person or anything. When I reached the tomb of my honoured father, which is about three kos distant, I offered up prayers for the aid of his protecting spirit. Mirzá Hasan, son of Sháh Rukh Mirzá, who had formed the design of joining Khusrú, was brought in. I questioned him, but he denied the intention. I ordered them to bind his hands, and carry him back on an elephant. This capture I took as a good omen of the blessed assistance vouchsafed to me by that departed spirit.
At mid-day, when it became hot, I rested under the shade of some trees, and I observed to Khán-i 'azam, that I had been so engrossed with this unhappy matter that I had not taken the allowance of opium I usually took in the fore-part of the day, and that no one had reminded me of it. My distress arose from the thought that my son, without any cause or reason, had become my enemy, and that if I did not exert myself to capture him, dissatisfied and turbulent men would support him, or he would of his own accord go off to the Uzbeks or Kazilbáshes, and thus dishonour would fall upon my throne. Determined on the course to be pursued, after a short rest, I started from the pargana of Mathurá, which is twenty kos from Ágra, and after travelling two kos farther, I halted at one of the villages of that pargana, in which there was a tank.
When Khusrú arrived at Mathurá, he met Hasan Beg Khán Badakhshí, who had received favours from my father, and was coming from Kábul to wait upon me. The Badakhshís are by nature quarrelsome and rebellious, and when Khusrú, with his two or three hundred men, fell in with him, Khusrú made him commander of his men.* Every one whom they met on the road they plundered, and took from him his horse or goods. Merchants and travellers were pillaged, and wherever these insurgents went, there was no security for the women and children. Khusrú saw with his own eyes that a cultivated country was being wasted and oppressed, and their atrocities made people feel that death was a thousand times preferable. The poor people had no resource but to join them. If fortune had been at all friendly to him, he would have been overwhelmed with shame and repentance, and would have come to me without the least apprehension. It is well known how I pardoned his offences, and with what great kindness and gentleness I treated him, so as to leave no ground for suspicion in his breast. When, during the days of my father, he was incited by designing men to entertain improper aspirations, he knew that the fact had been communicated to me, but he showed no trust in my kindness.