It was after such horried executions that the Emperor thought of making a triumphal entry in the Citadel and in the Imperial palace, and people believed that such frightful scenes would be over; but as soon as he was settled in the palace, (and this was on a Tuesday, the seventeenth Muharrem, in the 1125 of the Hedjrah) he directed that “Djehandar-shah’s head should be fixd on a spear, and his body thrown across upon an elephant, to whose tail Zulficar-khan’s body should be made fast; that both bodies should be carried throughout the most frequented parts of the city, and then thrown before the main gate of the Citadel, there to rot.” Not satisfied with all this, he ordered that “Assed-khan himself, the venerable Assed-khan, should be seized, and put in a Paleki with only what clothes he should have actually on his back; and that in that condition, he should follow the elephant in question, attended by all the ladies of his family in veiled carriages, after which he was to be confined for life in Qhan-djehan’s palace, and his whole property as well as that of his son, to be confiscated.” Whilst that mournful procession was going round the principal streets, the Emperor recollected that a Gentoo of distinction, called Radja Soba-chund, had been too free of speech; and he ordered his tongue to be cut off, and his property to be confiscated. The man underwent the operation in all its rigour, and what is singu­lar, he continued to speak as freely as ever. At least so is the general report.

“Never lose sight that the day of retribution is to come,”

“Nor ever forget that wheat arises from wheat, and that barley produces barley.”

It was by such bloody beginnings that Feroh-syur marked the first days of his reign; nor was Zulficar-khan the only vic­tim he sacrificed to his resentment or to his fears. Most of the grandees of the old court underwent the same treatment, and finished their days by the leathern thong. The Princes of the blood themselves were as mercilessly used. Yezzeddin, son to the late Djehander-shah; Aaly-tebar, son to the late Aazem-shah, and even the young Homai8n-baqht, younger brother to Feroh-syur himself, were deprived of the benefit of light by a large red-hot needle which was drawn across their eyes. So many cruelties at the very beginning of a reign, and so many unjust murders unnecessarily perpetrated, excited so much terror in the minds of every one, from the highest to the lowest, that people having continually the image of instant death before their eyes, did not think themselves sure of their existence, for one single day. So that such persons as were, by their stations, or by the duties of their offices, obliged to attend every day at Court, never failed, on returning home alive, about the evening, to receive the congratulations of their equals, and the Nuzurs of their inferiors; and nothing was so common, on coming home safe, as to distribute, late at night, money to the needy, and thanksgiving-victuals to the hungry, just as it is customary for people to do, when they have escaped from some imminent peril.*

It is in the middle of such merciless beginnings, that people perceived a coolness, and then very bitter discontents, between the Emperor and the two Sëids, those two potent Lords, that had saved his life at the risk of their own, and then raised him to the throne. These discontents grew to a great height—to such a height, indeed,—that in their consequences they have pro­duced the ruin of the Imperial family, and the desolation of the whole Empire. The first spark of that fire, that has since blazed out, and caused such a conflagration all over Hindostan, was perceived on the following occasion:—Abdollah-khan, who, immediately after the gain of the battle of Agra, had been dis­patched to the capital, with orders to quiet the minds of the people there, and to bring back the affairs of state into their accustomed channel, had, amongst many other promotions, bestowed the office of Divan of the Qhalissah-office, or of First Lord of the Treasury, then vacant, on L8tf-ollah-khan-sadyc, the very person associated to him in that Commission; and he had also confirmed Sëid-amdjed-khan in the office of Supreme sadr, or great almoner, of which that nobleman had remained invested so early as Bahadyr-shah’s reign. Unfortunately, whilst he was bestowing these offices in virtue of his Commission as well as in virtue of his Vezirial powers, the Emperor was disposing of them in the plains of Ecber-abad, where he gave the superintendence of the Treasury to Chebilram-nagur, and the supreme Sadrship to Afzol-khan, who had once been tutor to his children. Some days after, the Emperor arrived at the capital; and on his taking cognisance of some offices of state, and of some promotions, and in particular of those two important ones, there ensued a long dialogue between the Prince and the minister. The latter observed that, “if in the very beginning of his administration, a wound should be given to his authority, he could no more pretend to execute so important an office with credit to him­self, or advantage to the public;” and on the other hand, Emir-djemlah inculcated to the Emperor that, “be the powers ever so full and so illimited which Sovereigns found it sometimes expe­dient to delegate to any of their servants for a time, still it would never follow, that a servant should therefore forget him­self so far as to dispose of such important offices at his own pleasure, and without having previously applied for his lord’s consent. He added these two verses from the poet:—

“Let a master be ever so profuse in delegating unlimited authority,

Still is the servant never to lose sight of his own distance.”

It was at last agreed that the Qhalissah should remain with L8tf-ollah-khan-sadyc, and the High-sadrship, with Afzol-khan; but this agreement, which seemed to have quashed much acri­mony and discontent, did not fail to leave deep impressions on both sides. Nevertheless, the original cause of these commo­tions in the Empire, and of the insubordination in the grandees, (commotions which redounded to the ill renown of the Sëids, and which at last overwhelmed their own house and family)—the original cause of the commotions in the Empire, I say,—may be Feroh-syur’s incapacity and mean charac­ter. traced in the Emperor’s incapacity and in the particular cast of his genius. Feroh-syur had neither the extent of genius, nor the firmness of temper, nor the keenness of penetration, requisite in an Emperor. He was low-spirited, and homely-minded, as well as sordidly inclined; or if at any time he chanced to shew any liberality in his disposition, it was when he enjoyed the com­pany of some low vile people, equally destitute of morals and capacity; and then he would thoughtlessly bestow on them, presents which they did not know what to do with, and offices which they were unable to manage. Such a disposition of mind bordered upon prodigality undoubtedly, but yet produced some present advantages, which being laid hold of by sycophants and other people of that stamp, never failed to be received with the highest applause; but such applause, however, as will never reach posterity. No wonder after that, if Freroh-syur was fond of keeping company with common street-sharpers; and hence the reason of his being so wedded to an Yticad-khan, and to a set of people upon a par with his Yticad-khan. The truth is, that being totally incapable of holding the reins of an Empire, and indeed incapable of any command at all, he was at a loss how to spend his time; and what is still more unfortunate for him, that Emir-djemlah, his confident, the opinionated man, of so much ambition, such high pretensions, and so much obstinacy and opposition, was himself unfit for any higher office, and yet wanted to overtop all the grandees of the Empire; and this unworthy favourite, who had made nothing of pulling down and destroying the families of an Assed-khan and a Zulficar-khan, two men whose houses were these one hundred and fifty years past in possession of immense wealth, as well as of the highest dignities and offices of the state, now thought of no less than demolish­ing two such noblemen as the Sëids—two men who had conferred the highest obligations on his master, and who now figured in the world, as the two principal men of the Empire. But this was precisely what wounded his jealous mind, and what set dag­gers in his rancorous heart.

However, the disease that had fastened on the vitals of the state, would have never risen to such a head, had not the administration of the most important affairs been strangely neglected by the very persons at the head of the Empire. The Vezir, Abdollah-khan, was a man of abilities, indeed; but so passionately fond of fine women, so addicted to feasting, music, and dancing, as well as to all kinds of pleasures, and, of course, so desirous of ease, that he was leaving the whole management of both his immense household and his high office to his Divan, Ratan-chand, a man who had been once a shop-keeper, but who by all means was too enthusiastic in his false religion to discharge decently all the duties of that important charge; and too narrow-minded likewise, to feel his own consequence and to act with a temper suitable to it. And yet it was such a man who, under his master’s name, carried every thing with a high hand, and enjoyed an uncontrolled influence all over the Empire of Hindostan. In consequence of so much incapacity on one side, and so much sloth and supineness on the other, enmities gained daily ground, and daily fuel was added to attentive rancour; and these enmities in their conse­quences rose to such an amazing height, as to overtop the sub­lime columns of the Timurian throne, which they crushed down at last under their weight, involving in its downfall the families of the two Sëids, which they demolished entirely, and ultimately altering the very constitution of the Empire.)