Dissensions all over Bengal—Azim-abad twice attacked by the Imperial Prince, Aaly-goher, now Shah-aalem—Detestable character of both Mir-djaafer-qhan and his son—He is dethroned by his son-in-law, Mir-cassem-qhan, who after a short reign, is expelled by the English, who re-establish the old Prince—Conspiracies—War with Shudja-ed-döulah, Sovereign of Awd, who is totally defeated by the English at Bacsar.
The Government of Oressa given to a Gentoo, who is bubbled out of his post by the Fakirs in the Marhatta Rhago-dji’s interest —Vigorous answer given by Aaly-verdy-qhan to the Marhatta’s proposal—Rhago-dji rejoins—The refuged Afghans rescued, and taken into pay by the Marhattas—A coolness and then a sharp dialogue between the Governor of Azim-abad and Abdol-aaly-qhan —A sharp action between Aaly-verdy-qhan and the Marhattas—Another action in which Dost-mahmed-qhan, a new man, distinguishes himself—The Marhattas overthrown at Catwa with great slaughter—Aaly-verdy-qhan tired of the war— Treachery in the Afghans of the Bengal army, discovered—He celebrates the nuptials of his two grandsons, Seradj-ed-döula and Ecram-ed-döula—Some account of Mirza-yredj-qhan, father-in-law to Seradj-ed-döulah—Some account of Mir-c8bra—Mir-djaafer-qhan and Ata-ollah-qhan conspire against Aaly-verdy-qhan —The conspiracy discovered and punished—The Marhattas defeated a fourth time—The Governor of Azim-abad aspires to independence, and takes the disbanded Afghans in his pay—Who conspire against him—And murder him—The Afghans spread throughout the city, which they plunder—The murderers resolved to stand their ground against Aaly-verdy-qhan —Affecting speech of the latter to his troops—He provides for his Capital, and marches to Azim-abad—Brave defence made by Din-mahmed—The Marhattas join the Afghans at Azim-abad. Pretensions of the latter against them—Battle of Barr, near Azim-abad, where the murdering Generals are all slain, and their troops put to the sword—The Viceroy sends for the Ladies of the Afghan Generals, and treats them with the utmost decency—His extreme delicacy and generosity on their account.
It must be remembered that Aaly-verdy-qhan had borne his part in the second campaign against Mustapha-qhan; and it was then that intelligence came to camp of Rhago-dji-bhoslah’s having invaded the Oressa. This invasion was brought about in the following manner:—Abdol-res8l-qhan, Governor of Oressa, had paid so much regard to the rupture between his uncle and Aaly-verdy-qhan, as to quit his post, and go over with his whole brigade to Mustapha-qhan’s assistance. He had left the Government to a Nàib or Deputy of his, which he appointed without, however, meddling with Radja D8lobram, who had been appointed his Agent-General by the Viceroy, and was son to a Prime Minister. Of course, on the Governor’s desertion, the Government devolved on this Gentoo, to whom the Patent and insignia of Governor came from M8rsh8d-abad soon after. But D8lobram was unfit for such an office. Scrupulously attached to his religious practices, he was much addicted to the company of Brahmans and Sanyassees,\(1\) or Gentoo Fakyrs, who intirely governed him; whereas he seemed averse to the company of his military officers, most of whom were Mussulmen; and it is observable that most of those Sanyassees were Rhago-dji-bhoslah’s spies, who thereby receiving frequent intelligence of D8lobram’s contemptible conduct, and of the weakness of his Government, erected his scheme upon that knowledge. He was confirmed in his resolution by letters which he then received from Mustapha-qhan, who invited him to a community of interests and warfare. The Marhatta Prince, who since his General’s murder, was like an untrodden snake retired within its hole, from whence he watched the moment of revenge, looked upon this invitation as on a particular interposition from Heaven in his behalf. Putting himself therefore at the head of fourteen thousand horse, he marched towards Bengal, crossed the mountainous tracts betwixt his dominions and Oressa, and arrived on the frontiers of that country; whilst D8lobram, meanly busy with his Sanyassees on the shore of the river, was kept in so gross an ignorance, that the enemy was close upon him, before he had suspected anything of the matter. Mir-abdol-aziz, that worthy officer, and venerable Séyd of Semana, of whom we have somewhile ago made mention, had somehow got intelligence of the enemies being close and at hand; and on the first intelligence, he got upon his horse, and went to Court immediately with about twenty troopers, that were at hand, giving orders to his people to mount, and follow him without loss of time. Being arrived at D8lobram’s door, he found that he was asleep yet, and knew nothing of the Marhattas; and a full hour more was spent in waiting for his rising; meanwhile a general uproar having risen throughout the city of Catec, people began to fly and provide for their safety. It was then, and not sooner, that D8lobram being awakened, came out half naked, and without a turbant, and in that condition, got into his Paleky, with intention to take shelter in the castle of Bhara-Bhaty, which was not far off. Mir-abdol-aziz was following him with the troops that were with him. They were advancing together, when at some distance, but still within the city, he stopped awhile to speak to one of his men, and on turning his head about, he saw some Marhatta troopers busy in stripping people, and D8lobram on foot, endeavouring to skulk about some ruined houses; on sight of this, he ran forwards, and seizing him by the arm, he reproached him with his cowardice. “Why are you frightened,” cried he, “and why do you render yourself contemptible? Get upon this horse, and follow me. These are no more than people intent on plunder and sac. Believe me, there is time yet to retire into the castle; and rest assured that I will not leave you here.” D8lobram, recovering from his fright, mounted upon his horse, and was immediately surrounded by the officer’s troopers, who carried him safe to the gate of the castle. Meanwhile some of D8lobram’s soldiers joined him, as did some detached soldiers from the other corps by a few at a time; so that in a little time he found himself with a good number of troops in and about the fortress. But Rhago-dji arriving a little after, besieged the castle immediately, and D8lobram was now frightened in earnest; and being informed also that Aaly-verdy-qhan, his master, was gone on an expedition against Mustapha-qhan, he yielded to the intreaties and suggestions of the Sanyassees, who proposed to mediate an agreement; and he resolved to make himself easy, as he wanted no more than his life. With this view he held a consultation with his Commanders and officers. Some of these, out of compliment to their Governor, voted for an immediate surrender; and some thought it was too late to make any effectual resistance in so unprepared a station. But they were opposed by Mir-abdol-aziz and some others, who thought such a surrender dishonourable to their master, Aaly-verdy-qhan, and disgraceful to themselves; and they were for fighting and defending the place. D8lobram inclined to an agreement; and he was deluded into it by his Sanyassees at last. After many days’ conferences D8lobram came out of the fortress, and went to pay a visit to the Marhatta Prince, accompanied by all his Commanders and officers, and even by a brother of Mir-abdol-aziz, who came out with ten or twelve of his men. But that Commander himself, with three or four hundred of his soldiers, remained in the Fort, together with a number of towns-men who had taken shelter in it. D8lobram, after his visit, wanted to return home; but was prevented by the Marhatta, who objected to his returning in the heat of the day, and desired his accepting of an entertainment prepared in a tent set up for his taking some rest; he also distributed the Governor’s officers amongst his own Commanders, recommending their being handsomely used and entertained, like so many guests. The officers seeing an entertainment spread for them, soon laid down their arms, loosened their girdles, and having partaken of the entertainment, they retired to take some rest; but on their waking up they found themselves prisoners and in confinement; and every one of them repented, but too late, of his credulity. On hearing of this treachery, Mir-abdol-aziz assumed the command of the fortress, and prepared for its defence. The Prince disappointed, sent him his own brother, to persuade him to a surrender; and this brother was accompanied by envoys which D8lobram himself had sent to his people for the same purpose. Abdol-aziz answered his own brother in these terms: “Sir, tell Rhago-dji that at present I have neither brother nor master; we are servants to one Lord, who is Aaly-verdy-qhan the formidable in war. Some ungrateful cowards have gone over to you, and listened to your words; but as for us, we shall defend this fortress, as becomes faithful soldiers, and as long as breath shall remain in our bosom; and this is our last resolution.” The brave Commander proved as good as his word; and for a month and some days, he sustained a vigorous siege. These events were taking place, at the very time when the Viceroy of Bengal recalled by the solicitations of Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, his nephew, who announced Rhago-dji’s invasion in the Oressa, had quitted his expedition of Azim-abad, to return to Bengal. Although he heard of D8lobram’s being entrapped, and of Abdol-aziz’s still defending himself, yet he forbore moving to his assistance, as he wanted to manage Rhago-dji, and had sent to him a gentleman, lately come from Delhi, called Munaam-aaly-qhan, a person of eloquence and abilities. Rhogo-dji, ascribing such an unexpected step to conscious weakness, answered “That he could not return home, unless he was complemented with three Corors of rupees.” The Viceroy embarrassed in his circumstances, spun out the negotiation to a length, until hearing of Mustapha-qhan’s defeat, he first of all returned his humble acknowledgment to God Almighty, and then taking another stile with the Marhatta Prince, he turned a new leaf with him, and lent him the following message: An agreement Vigorous message sent by Aaly-verdy qhan to the Marhatta’s proposal. brought about by dint of money, is the effect of either impotence, or some great hope. As to the first, I inform you that by God’s blessing, the intrepid warriors, those lions avide of slaughter and blood, are more covetous than ever of another engagement with you, and more desirous of fighting than hunters are of getting at their prey. And as to the second article, I must tell you, that they cannot expect any benefit from entering into a treaty with so unfortunate and so ill fated a Commander as you. Matters standing thus, the agreement you expect, cannot be brought about but by a battle, when the lions giddy with the fumes of an approaching slaughter, shall swim over the bloody plain, shall drag the crocodiles of Barar to the slaughter, and tinge the element with streams of their blood. Then, and not sooner, whoever shall have obtained the victory, will have it in his power to propose an agreement to his own mind. Rhago-dji on receiving this message, resolutely answered in these words. “I am come from a thousand cosses’ distance to encamp in this corner of the dominions of your Majestuous Highness,\(2\) and do not see that you have as yet moved so little as a hundred cosses to receive your guests.” This answer produced the following reply: “What you observe is nothing but truth. However, the reason is that the rainy season is at hand; please therefore to take some rest; and rest assured that, so soon as that season is over, I shall not only move to meet you, as my guest, but shall have the politeness to reconduct you as far as your own home.” Rhago-dji, after this message, advanced towards Birbohom, where he took up his quarters; from hence by parties he brought under his power the whole province of Oressa as far as Midnip8r and Hedjly, together with great part of the Bardevan. All this while the brave Mir-abdol-aziz was defending the fortress of Bhara-bhaty; but the place being ill furnished for a long defence, and, above all, wanting provisions, he agreed to surrender it, on condition of having his person, honour, and baggage safe, as well as that of his people; and that none of them should be forced to take party with the Marhattas. This treaty was insured by a paper sent him by Rhago-dji under his hand and seal, and under the hands and seals of all his principal Commanders, who signed as guarantees to the performance of the articles. On these conditions he surrendered the fortress; and after having tarried a few days in the Marhatta camp, he took his leave of the Marhatta Prince, and went to M8rsh8d-abad. D8lobram remained a prisoner one full year, or even some months more; nor was he released but by the mediation of some Bankers, who paid a ransom of three lacs of ruppes for him. After which he returned to M8rsh8d-abad, where the Viceroy repaid the money to his father, a Minister with whose faithful services he was perfectly satisfied.
Whilst the Marhatta Prince was encamped in the Birbohum, there came letters and petitions from M8rteza-qhan and B8lend-qhan, and the other Afghan officers who had taken shelter in the mountains of Macri-cogh after the loss of the battle. The Zemindars of those parts had suffered them to build themselves huts in those mountains, but cast a wishful eye upon some of those things which those refugees had been able to bring with them. On the other hand, the Zemindars of Sarseram, named Pahluvan-sing, and Sot-hur-sing, had received letters from the Governor of Bahar, which recommended their taking care, that those refugees should not find means to escape. But by this time, the Afghans tired with living in a country infested with myriads of snakes and ants, and to exist like men buried alive, had of themselves repeatedly written in the humblest terms to Rhago-dji, to supplicate “his taking the trouble of coming to their assistance; and they promised, in case of their being delivered from their loathsome habitations, to addict their whole lives to his service, without quitting his standards, unless dismissed.” They added, “that they would ever keep that favour of his as a ring hanging at their ears, and would carry all their lives on their shoulders the trappings of attachment and sincerity.” Rhago-dji finding his The refuged Afghans joined by the Marhattas. advantage in attaching to his person and cause some thousand Afghans, all old soldiers, equipped at all points, set out for Birbohum a little before the end of the rains, and taking his route over the mountains of that country, and through the hills and valleys of Carrick-p8r, he in his way across the province of Azim-abad, sacked and plundered the town of Ticcary and Sheh-p8ra, with their whole territory. After which he forded the Sohon, went into the hills of Sarseram, and delivered the Afghans from their misery; he then descended into the plain, and encamped at Arvel. His army, by the junction of the Afghans, amounted now to full twenty thousand horse. Immediately after him, Aaly-verdy-qhan arrived at Azim-abad at the head of twelve thousand horse, all old soldiers, determined to put an end to his quarrel with the Marhattas. His nephew, the Governor of the Province, went out to a great distance to meet him; and had the honour of kissing his uncle’s footsteps; after which he remained sometime in camp, Aaly-verdy-qhan having been pleased to spend some days in enjoying his relations, kinsmen, and friends.
And here it must be mentiond that some months before his arrival, a coolness and indifference had taken place between the Governor of Azim-abad and Abdol-aaly-qhan; and the coolness increasing, their faces had been obscured with the dust of so much discontent and disgust, that the former love and union had been succeeded by separation and distance. The subject was a certain note which the Governor had written to Abdol-aaly-qhan, in which were some sharp expressions, the purport and sense of which was this: “My brother, Radja Kyret-chund, has received wounds in the battle against Mustapha-qhan, and has rendered many services; and what has done your Lordship, that you should require so much gratitude at my hands, and require it as your due?” Abdol-aaly-qhan shocked at the drift of the note, abstained from going to Court; but on the Viceroy’s arrival, who was his maternal uncle, he resolved to attach himself to him, after having quitted the Governor’s service. He intended henceforward to spend the remainder of his life in that Prince’s Court, and to follow him to M8rsh8d-abad. With this view, he once after dinner, remained on purpose in the Prince’s tent where there were then only a few persons, such as Hadji-ahmed, his son the Governor, and myself; and finding the moment favourable, he brought the discourse upon himself and mentioned his intention, observing that he had now given up all his connections at Azim-abad, and wished to spend the remainder of his days in his uncle’s service, as he could no more bear to live in the Governor’s Court. The Viceory, who wanted to soothe his mind, answered with mildness, “that such was the complexion of the present times, that dissensions were arising between a son and his father, and enmities had been conceived by a brother against a brother; he added, that he had lived to see such things (he alluded in this to a very indecent dispute that had happened two or three days ago, between Sáid-ahmed-qhan and Hadji-ahmed, his father, upon a small object, in which himself (Aaly-verdy-qhan) had mediated a reconciliation). If such disagreeable quarrels and enmities can find their way amongst fathers and sons, continued he, and between brothers and brothers, where is the wonder that there should arise a dissatisfaction between you and Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, who are sons only of two uncles?” Abdol-aaly-qhan answered coldly, that if quarrels should happen between brothers and children, he did not wonder at it, as they were co-heirs; but that he did not comprehend, why he, who was no more than a servant, should become the object of a quarrel? If I am fit for anything, added he, let me be kept on an honorable footing; and if I am not so, dismiss me at once, without wounding my delicacy with disagreeable expressions and odious reflections, which I cannot bear with any regard to my honour. What means such a letter as this, for instance? And who is that Kyret-chund, that such a pimp should be compared with, and even preferred, to me. At this expression, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan took fire; his colour changed, and he said “that he would risk his life to defend the honour and character of a Kyret-chund.” He added, “that Kyret-chund was he, whose father’s slippers had been carried by the ancestors of every one; by all” (in this he alluded to this particular, that Kyret-chund’s father was Prime Minister or Divan to Shujah-qhan, and the fountain head of all preferment, at a time when Hadji-ahmed, and his younger brother, Aaly-verdy-qhan, made their appearance at that Court). Abdol-aaly-qhan answered coldly, “that as his father had never carried the slippers of any one’s father, he did not see why Kyret-chund should be a man of so much importance for him.” The conversation growing warm, the Viceroy interposed; by desiring Abdol-aaly-qhan to contain himself; and he added these words: Pray, friend, why do you become angry? Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan’s allusion refers to me. At these words of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s, the nephew held his tongue, and did not offer another syllable; and the dispute A sharp difference in the Viceroy’s family made up. subsided. A few days after, the Viceroy sent for his nephew in a private closet, and after having spoke to him, he desired his living upon good terms with Abdol-aaly-qhan; at the same time, he sent for the latter, and obtained of him as well as of the other, that they should embrace each other, and that their dissatisfaction should be brought to an end.
After this transaction, Aaly-verdy-qhan accompanied by his two nephews, and by Ata-ollah-qhan and Seradj-ed-döulah, decamped from Bankyp8r, and went to encamp at Nobut-p8r, without being able to find one single Marhatta by the way. In advancing farther, many screams were heard, and a moment after, it was found that the noise arose from some Marhatta troopers, who having fallen upon the baggage, had disappeared immediately with some plunder. The next day, having ranged his army in battle, and supported his flanks by artillery, he moved forwards; and it was remarked that there were not less than six persons in that army that enjoyed the honour of a kettle-drum, and no less than five, that were honoured with the insignia of the mahy or fish. The Commanders of the vanguard or the first line were Mir-djaafer-qhan, and Shimshir-qhan the Afghan; at his right was Ata-ollah-qhan and Serdar-qhan; at his left, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan. The flank was put under the care of Sàyd-ahmed-qhan who was supported by Sheh-djehan-yar, and by Omer-qhan. Rahem-qhan was seated on the elephant that carried the Viceroy’s main standard; and that Prince was in the centre with a choice body of troops, commanded by Fakyr-ollah-beg-qhan, and N8r-ollah-beg-qhan, and some other officers of character. The army marched the whole night in that order of battle, eager to meet the enemies, and desirous of an engagement; but no enemy appeared. Only at day-break some of their horse were seen at a great distance from the reach of cannon, plundering some defenceless villages; and the victorious army continuing its march, arrived at the Ranie’s reservoir near Muhely-p8r, where it encamped. Rhago-dji happened to be encamped thereabout also, without ever suspecting that the enemy by a forced march would overtake him there. Mir-djaafer-qhan and Shimshir-qhan, who commanded the vanguard, and were the foremost, fell at once upon the enemy; and Rhago-dji surprised, but not dismayed, mounted immediately, without having time to range his army in battle; but he was directly surrounded by his guards; and the different corps of the Marhattas mounting successively, attacked the enemy in order to disengage their General. A furious engagement took place between Mir-Djaafer-qhan and them; and the combat became so serious, that a report ran unanimously, that Rhago-dji had never escaped, but for a neglect of Shimshir-qhan’s, or possibly by his treachery. In a little time the Viceroy himself came to the support of his troops, and the enemy was giving way. But whilst those two Commanders were engaged with a body of Marhattas, we who were with Abdol-aaly-qhan, were all engaged with another. That officer had only his brigade against some thousands of them; yet he stood his ground, until Medy-nessar-qhan mounted upon Sàyd-ahmed-qhan’s Engagement between the Bengal army, and the Marhattas. standard elephant, joined us with a body of troops. Here a deal of mutual slaughter ensued, and great things were intended, when night came on, and parted the combatants. The enemy giving way retired farther, and halted; and the Viceroy not choosing to advance in the dark, stayed where he was, and passed the night in a small tent provided for him, and for him only; for all the principal Commanders of the army, that is, his two nephews, and a very few others, took shelter under some trees; the rest of the army stood where it was; nor did any one know what had become of the baggage; nor did any one in so dark a night, choose to venture afar in quest of it. Some, more impatient than others, passed the whole night in inquiries, and filled the whole army with cries and tumult. Abdol-aaly-qhan, with the poor man and Allah-yar-qhan, half-brother to the Viceroy, and some other persons of distinction, passed the whole night watching in the Viceroy’s tent. At day-break the baggage was found in a neighbouring plain, abandoned by all, but untouched. The poor man’s baggage, as well as that of Abdol-aaly-qhan’s, was found also without a man to watch over it; but yet untouched. Every one having refreshed himself, the army marched again. The Viceroy offering battle every day to the enemy, and every day in vain, became tired of their backwardness, and he left the business to his officers, who would every day beat some party of the Marhattas, and always with loss to those ravagers. It was in those days that it appeared that the two Afghan Commanders were traitors in their heart, at least; it was then that Aaly-verdy-qhan conceived suspicions against them.
I remember that once being myself seated within the inner
apartment of the Navvab-begum, consort to Aaly-verdy-qhan, he
came himself unexpectedly, and having taken his seat, he seemed
grieved and thoughful. The Princess having reproached him for
that behaviour of his, and asked the meaning of his appearing
with so clouded an aspect, he answered in these words: I know
not what is the matter; but I find some uncommon appearance
amongst my people. The Princess anxious about her consort’s
disquietude, pitched upon two men of parts and character, and
sent them as from herself, and in her own name, to Rhago-dji.
The first was Muzzaffer-aaly-qhan-Bahadyr. The second was
Faky-aaly-qhan, son to Hadji-abdollah, called the writer or
historian, who had been Divan at B8rhanp8r in the times of the
Emperor Aoreng-zib. They had orders to procure a pacification
upon an equality, if they saw any overture for it. The envoys
having landed at Mir-Habib’s, who was the main supporter of all
Rhago-dji’s schemes, were introduced by him, and they delivered
their message. The Marhatta, who had been often vanquished,
and did not think himself a match for Aaly-verdy-qhan, was glad
of such a proposal; but Mir Habib, who was the Viceroy’s mortal
enemy, did not consent to it; and he turned Rhago-dji’s mind
intirely, advising him to avail himself of his superiority in horse
to give the enemy the slip, so as to arrive before him at M8rsh8d-abad,
where Nevazish-mahmed-qhan commanded without troops,
and where mighty things might be done. Rhago-dji relishing
the advice, took to the road of M8rsh8d-abad, and was immediately
followed by the Bengal army. But as part of the provisions
that followed it had been forsaken and lost some days ago,
and none were procured but by force and with dint of sabre,
victuals became dear in camp, and then scarce, and at last invisible;
the country round being so ruined, as to furnish none at
all. In addition to all those evils, the river Sohon having become
fordable, did not afford sufficient security to the boats that might
have brought provisions. It was in such a distressed condition
that Aaly-verdy-qhan continued his march along the Sohon; and
it was in one of these marches, that he was joined by two officers
of valour and renown, both in Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan’s service.
They were both covered with wounds. These were Mehta-djesvent-nagur,
and Mir-gh8lam-ashruff. They had both been detained
at Azim-abad for some urgent business; and when it was done,
they had resolved to join their master, and to prove thereby
their zeal and attachment to his service. Athough the roads
were scoured day and night by the enemy’s horse, and there
was no passing undiscovered, nevertheless without minding the
times, they had the imprudence to sally forth from the city, and
to advance towards the army with a small number of brave men
that chose to stand by them. But they did not go far; the Marhattas
having overtaken them, wanted to plunder and strip them;
and as they refused to submit to that indignity, they were surrounded
and attacked with spears and long swords; and a sharp
engagement took place, in which the enemy mixed contumelious
language with heavy blows. At last both those officers were
dangerously wounded, and both were felled to the ground; and
both were stripped, and their baggage was plundered and rifled.
Nor was it but some time after, that they recovered so far their
senses, as to arrive at the army, both naked, and both very much
wounded; the Gentoo officer in particular, having lost the whole
of his nose by a stroke of a sabre. It was over a country so
totally ruined that Aaly-verdy-qhan arrived at Azim-abad, where
having observed that Rhago-dji was hastening his march, he
quitted that city, to follow the enemy to Baghal-p8r, where
having advanced towards the river that runs by Champa-nagur,
a suburb of that town, he took shelter under some trees, from
whence he sent forwards the brigade he had with him, together
with most of the officers present; and these had orders to look
out for a proper encampment. Rhago-dji who was always well
informed, availed himself of that opportunity; and turning the
brigade, he suddenly made his appearance at the head of five or
six thousand horse. The Viceroy without betraying the least
perturbation or fear, assembled those about him, and they did
not amount to above six hundred persons of all sorts; and putting
himself at their head, he advanced to the enemy, and charged
vigorously. He had at that time with him an officer whom he
had lately retained in his service, and who in paying his respects,
had spoke very advantageously of himself, and required a great
deal of distinction. The Viceroy recollecting the circumstance,
now sent for Dost-mahmed-qhan, (for such was the man’s name)
“and he told him that this was the time to approve himself the
man he had pretended to be, and to shew himself worthy of
those distinctions, which he had claimed as his due.” The man,
without waiting for another word, put his horse on a gallop, and
spying a body of men that cut a better figure than the rest, (and,
in fact, it was Rhago-dji himself surrounded by his best mounted
Another
engagement,
in which Dost-mahmed-qhan
distinguishes
himself.
spearmen) he rushed amongst them, overthrew one man, killed
another, wounded a third, and seized a fourth, with which he
came back to Aaly-verdy-qhan, to whom he presented his prisoner,
and who loaded him with encomiums. By this time assistance
had come; and Rhago-dji being surrounded in his turn with
this body of horse, was amply regaled with everything which
musquets, sabres, and spears could afford; so that finding that
he could stand no more, he turned about, and fled. His troops
after having plundered some baggage, took to flight also. But
this action did not please Rhago-dji at all. Keeping the highroad
became unsuitable to his circumstances, as it was impossible but
the two armies would meet at last; and being unwilling to engage
any more, he gave the enemy the slip, with intention to be
beforehand with him about M8rsh8d-abad. The Marhatta therefore
moved from Baghal-p8r, struck to the right, and got into the
hilly country; and Aaly-verdy-qhan having wrote to his nephew
at the Capital to be upon his guard, advanced by forced marches;
and he was so lucky as to arrive at the city one day after the
arrival of Rhago-dji’s, who had already burned and sacked the
two suburbs of Chapàideh, and that called Mir-djaafer-qhan’s
garden. But on the Viceroy’s arrival, he did not think proper
to remain so near him. Decamping therefore immediately, he
wheeled towards the southern and western suburbs of the city.
The Viceroy having given three or four days’ rest to his army,
marched on through the outskirts of the city, and went to encamp
at Amany-gundj; from whence he advanced on the enemy,
and having overtaken him at the Ranie’s reservoir, close to Catwa,
there ensued a sharp engagement, in which such a slaughter was
made of the Marhattas, that Rhago-dji despaired of success; and
fearing the destruction of his whole army, he turned about, and
Battle of
Catwa, in
which the
Marhattas are
slaughtered.
fled so earnestly, that henceforward he avoided the open plain,
and availed himself of the skirts of the hilly country on the western
back of Bengal. Aaly-verdy-qhan continued pursuing without
ceasing; and Rhago-dji having consulted his Generals, it was
thought proper, as they had lost so many of their men in their
last engagement, to make the best of their way to their own
country, from whence they had received terrible news a few days
ago. Leaving therefore two or three thousand Marhatta horse, and
six or seven thousand Afghans, under the command of Mir-Habib,
the Marhatta Prince departed, very much humbled by the ill success
of his expedition; and news were coming one after another
that he intended to quit Bengal, until at last it was found he had
really quitted the very frontiers of it.
This campaign had an advantageous appearnce. The enemy had been beaten and expelled; but the army fatigued by such repeated campaigns, and exceeded with toil in the last, had grown tired of the war; and Aaly-verdy-qhan perceived that officers as well as soldiers were equally weary with himself. He wanted himself some release from his toils, and wished to enjoy some rest, as having a variety of purposes in view. He intended to marry the sons of his several daughters, and to prepare necessaries for the ceremonies. He wanted to gain the hearts of the soldiery by Aaly-verdy-qhan tired of the war. affording them some release. He had some refractory Zemindars to bring to order. Lastly, the wish of his heart was to enjoy the nuptials of Seradj-ed-döula, and Ecram-ed-döulah, his two darling grandsons. All those objects required his presence in the city, to which he immediately returned; and first of all he applied himself to business, and especially to that of quieting the country, and affording some relief to the wearied husbandman. He next turned his views towards refitting the necessaries of war, and promoting his officers according to their merits. Dost-mahmed-qhan, that officer who had continued to distinguish himself in the late campaign, and was now rising up to that favour which he enjoyed in its height some years after, was promoted to the command of a brigade, and complimented with many favours; as did Mir-cazem-qhan, who was also promoted to the command of a brigade; this officer enjoyed already the title of Bahadyr or valiant, and had distinguished himself eminently. These two officers having conceived an affection for each other, marched together, attacked together, and were performing together heroical actions in imitation of each other. Their characters rising daily in the estimation of the public, as well as their mutual attachment to each other, they came at last to be the most renowned Commanders in the Bengal army; and it must be acknowledged, that they were both officers of inestimable merit; and that whenever an opportunity offered, they did not fail to perform such valorous actions, as acquired them the admiration of their brother officers, and the applause of the public, in bestowing which both enemies and friends became unanimous.
We have already mentioned that in the engagement with Rhago-dij at the Ranie’s reservoir Shimshir-qhan had suffered him to escape; and that a little after, indices of defection and treason had appeared in the behaviour of two of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s principal Commanders, namely, the Afghans Shimshir-qhan and Serdar-qhan. Such a discovery could not but impress the Viceroy with sorrow and inquietude, especially with regard to the latter. In the sequel there appeared some further indices, and something like a concert between these two Commanders and the Marhattas. So many extraordinary proceedings of theirs which hitherto had appeared unaccountable, were now ascribed to that cause, in so much that their master had long ago ceased to repose any confidence in them. The principal of those indices appeared on the following occasion: On Rhago-dij’s arrival in the environs of M8rsh8d-abad, and even whilst he was encamped in the Birbohum, the rains were drawing to their end, and the entrance of the river Bagraty becoming fordable, the boats which used to come laden with provisions, had ceased to come directly to the city, and were Treachery of the Afghans in the Bengal army. obliged to land them at Bagvangolah, at six or seven cosses’ distance, from whence only they could be brought over a tract of land; and as the road was infested with perpetual parties of the enemy’s, the provisions could not come up, unless escorted by Commanders of character and trust. It was for these reasons that the Viceroy, who remained at Amany-gundj, on the southern side of the city, appointed the two Afghan officers to escort the provisions, and to keep the road clear of the enemy’s incursions; but this precaution did not prevent the provisions and oxen from being several times plundered and seized. So many miscarriages having raised a suspicion in the Viceroy’s mind, he appointed his own nephew, Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, to take care of the safety of the roads; and this service having been effectually performed, the former miscarriages recurred to his mind, and were attributed to a want of fidelity; and the suspicions being confirmed by subsequent proceedings of theirs, that had been hitherto doubtful, cautions were given to his most trusty Commanders to beware of them, and to be on the watch. It was conjectured now that the neglect of which those two Commanders were guilty, and the undutiful behaviour for which they had been remarkable, were fomented by connections with Rhago-dji; and even some shrewd persons affirmed that the Marhatta had gained over to his party, on one hand, Ata-ollah-qhan, on promise of bestowing upon him the Government of Azim-abad, when it should be conquered; and on the other, had attached to his interest the two Afghan Commanders by a promise of a lac of rupees in money, with the command of twelve thousand horse, if they could manage so as make away with Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, the Governor of the province; and in case the city of Azim-abad should be taken by their means, they were to have two lacs of rupees more, and the Fodjdary of Derbanga, over and above the command of the twelve thousand horse promised. Letters were passing likewise between the two parties. Others, however, were of opinion, that those two men being ambitious, and at the head of a great force, had of themselves conceived aspiring thoughts of dominion, and had applied to the Marhatta General for his support. Be it as it may, these two Commanders, either because they resigned of themselves the service, or because indices of a malevolent disposition had been perceived in their conduct, were both dismissed about the year 1159.
It was in this same year, and at the beginning of the rains, Aaly-verdy-qhan celebrates the nuptials of his two grandsons, Seradj-ed-döulah and Ecram-ed-döulah. that Aaly-verdy-qhan assembled his relations and friends of Azim-abad, to celebrate the nuptials of his favourite grandsons, Seradj-ed-döulah and Ecram-ed-döulah. Hadji-ahmed, their paternal grandfather, had for some particular reasons excused himself, and did not come to the feast; but Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan and Abdol-aaly-qhan arrived with their consorts, families, and dependants. The nuptials were celebrated with the utmost pomp and magnificence. The feast commenced by the nuptials of Ecram-ed-döulah, the younger brother. The reason was, that Ata-ollah-qhan’s daughter, the virgin that had been betrothed to Seradj-ed-döulah, had died two or three years before; and it was intended by marrying Ecram-ed-döulah first, to another daughter of that nobleman’s, to console and oblige Rabiah-begum, their mother, a Princess who was niece to Aaly-verdy-qhan, as well as consort to Ata-ollah-qhan. One thousand Qhylaats were bestowed on that occasion on the Viceroy’s relations, kinsmen, friends, favourite Commanders, and household servants; and two thousand more on occasion of Seradj-ed-döulah’s nuptials; nor was any one of those below a hundred rupees; and numbers were of a thousand, and several more above that sum. Several persons of high distinction were besides complimented with jewels according to their respective rank and station; and for a month together or more there was a continual feasting, and a continual series of entertainments at the palace of Aaly-verdy-qhan, and that of his eldest nephew and son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, where all comers were received without exception; nor was there a family or middling or low in the city that did not partake of the festivity, by receiving several times tables of dressed victuals, called in India T8rrahs; nor did any one of those T8rrahs cost less than twenty-five rupees, and some did cost a great deal more; and thousands and thousands of such prepared T8rrahs or entertainments were sent all over the city to every Mussulman’s house. There is no describing the illuminations, feux de joyes, and the artificial fires that seemed to have set both heaven and earth in a blaze, and to have given the inhabitants of M8rsh8d-abad an idea of the Garden of Arem.\(3\) It was in this time of public and private festivity, that Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, second nephew and son-in-law to Aaly-verdy-qhan, married his own daughter to Fahr-eddin-hussëin-qhan, son to Sèif-qhan, to whom she had been betrothed; and as that young nobleman, in consequence of the Government and riches hereditary in his own family, was extremely wealthy and oppulent, and had made preparatives equal to those of Aaly-verdy-qhan himself; Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, who enjoyed high offices and dignities, and was nephew to the reigning Prince, felt himself fired with emulation in such a manner, as not to betray the least inferiority in his expense. In this manner the three nuptials were celebrated with equal magnificence and pomp. By one of those accidents that disconcert the best laid schemes of men, the virgin, three days after her being carried by the bridegroom to his home, which day is always dedicated to bathing, and is called Chöuty,\(4\) died suddenly, a death that amazed all the world, and was ascribed by many to a variety of causes, the most probable of which was then reputed to be an indigestion. Some ascribed it to the practices of one of the father’s favourite women, who took umbrage at the profusion of presents made to the bride. Be it as it will, the bridegroom who if he had acted prudently and moderately, would in all probability have been complimented with another daughter, unaccountably gave way to his suspicions and resentment, and took it into his head that they would make away with him likewise, and that the tragedy was only at its commencement. He quitted M8rsh8d-abad without taking leave from any of these illustrious Princes with whom he had come to contract an alliance, and returned to P8rniah, a precipitation by which he dishonoured his character and family, whilst he rendered himself ridiculous by such a want of decorum.
But as we have so often mentioned Ata-ollah-qhan, the reader will not object to our giving here some account of that nobleman. Ata-olla-qhan was a near relation of Car-taleb-qhan, who was himself a cousin-german of Shudjah-qhan, once Viceroy of Bengal. On Aaly-verdy-qhan’s appointment to the Government of Azim-abad, Ata-ollah-qhan had been invested with the Government of Acbur-nugur-Radjemahl, in which office he remained for a length of years, with the grade of six thousand horse, and the command of as many effectual ones; he was also decorated with the insignia of a fringed Paleky and a kettle-drum, and with the titles of Yzaz-ed-döulah-bahadyr-Sabut-djung.\(5\) But we shall soon have occasion to mention him again in this history.
After the death of that daughter of his which had been
betrothed to Seradj-ed-döulah, that young Prince was married to a
daughter of Mirza-iredj-qhan’s, a nobleman whose history is in
Some account
of Mirza-iredj-
qhan, father-in-law
to Seradj-ed-döulah
few words as follows: His grandfather, Mustapha-c8ly-qhan, was
Divan or Prime Minister to, and in high favour and trust with,
Aazem-shah, son to Aorengzib; and so long as that Prince made
his residence at Ahmed-abad, being Viceroy of G8djrat, he was
after him the principal man in that kingdom, where he enjoyed the
highest offices and dignities. That nobleman had three sons:
Acbar-c8ly-qhan, (father to this Mirza-iredj-qhan) Shah-c8ly-qhan,
and Mirza-mahmed-naky; all three, noblemen of high rank and
character, and greatly esteemed, especially the two former.
Mustapha-c8ly-qhan dying in Azem-shah’s life-time, Shah-c8ly-qhan,
to whom that Prince had bestowed the command of the
artillery some days before his giving battle to his brother, Bahadyr-shah,
was found amongst the slain; and his elder brother, Acber-c8ly-qhan,
who had been appointed Governor of Baghal-p8r, repaired
to Bengal, where mindful of the cosequences of a change
of times, he lived with honor and credit during the whole of
Feroh-syur’s reign. His son, Mirza-iredj-qhan, attached himself
to the Séyds, and in particular to Hossëin-aaly-qhan, the youngest
of the two, with whom he was united in friendship, as well as
with Ghaáiret-aaly-qhan, cousin-german to Hossëin-aaly-qhan,
with whom he always appeared with splendour at Court. On
the catastrophe that befell the two Séyds he attached himself to
the famous Ser-b8lend-qhan, whom he accompanied into G8djrat,
being in high favour with that General. He parted with him,
however, and repaired to Bengal, where Shudjah-qhan, who knew
all his family, and had a high esteem from them all, took him near
his person, and always shewed him the utmost regard. He was
in the battle which Ser-efraz-qhan gave to Aaly-verdy-qhan at
Gheriah, where he lost his son, and where he was grievously
wounded. After this, he retired to his house at M8rsh8d-abad
without ever appearing at Court; but Aaly-verdy-qhan, who knew
his merit, sent for him, took him in his service, and constantly
shewed himself his friend and patron. He was much esteemed
in that Prince’s Court, and had particular connections with him;
and as that Prince was fully apprised of the eminent character of
all his ancestors, and he knew all the lustre of his family, he
proposed to him a match between his daughter and Seradj-ed-döulah,
to which Mirza-iredj-qhan consented. After the consummation
of the marriage, the Viceroy desirous to raise his new relation
to dignities and employments, bestowed upon him some of the
best Governments in Bengal, over and above the command of a
brigade; and it was this brigade that stood in arms whilst all
was festivity in M8rsh8d-abad, on account of Seradj-ed-döulah’s
wedding; and it was to him that orders were given to keep a
watchful eye upon the quarters of the suspected Afghan Commanders.
The weddings and festivities being over, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan
and Abdol-aaly-qhan with their consorts and families,
took their leaves of the Viceroy and their noble relations, and
returned to their palaces and offices at Azim-abad. But as soon
as they were departed, the two Afghan Commanders, who figured
amongst the principal officers of the army, as being at the head
of six or seven thousand horse of their own nation, suddenly asked
and obtained leave to return to Derbanga, their native country;
and having received their arrears in full, they set out for Mongher,
from whence they crossed over in boats; and two months had
already elapsed since this departure, when Mir-aaly-ashgar-kobra,
who had been sent for by Ata-ollah-qhan on the fame of his
character, made his appearance at M8rsh8d-abad.
kobra.
This Mir-aaly-ashgar-kobra was a Séyd of the town of Fateh-p8r-sicri, in the province of Mevat, and had been in the service of the famous Emir-qhan, Viceroy of Illah-abad, who was himself son to another famous Emir-qhan, Viceroy of Cab8l. His father, Mir-gholam-ahmed, a very shrewd, and very wary man, was likewise famous for courage and personal prowess. His son, in his youth, attached himself to a Dervish or Fakir, that is a Friar, who took care to initiate him early into many practices and customs used amongst those sort of people; so that he became an adept in all their arts, and in all their ways of life; and now become himself a proficient, he returned into the world, where he endeavoured by spreading the net of saintship and of holiness, to acquire power and authority; in fact he catched many a fish, and many an idiot, rose into celebrity, and assumed the surname of Kobra, that is, the great. But he had forged out another surname for himself, and this was that of Maass8m-el-arefin, a strange title, the signification of which we must suppose he well knew. In his speeches to his idiot hearers, he made use of such a lofty style, that they thought him endowed with those celestial gifts and graces to which he laid a claim, and which he said had not been communicated to the most glorious Prophets and envoys.\(6\) But as he had introduced some new laws about what is lawful and unlawful, (for instance, he held it unlawful to eat hen’s eggs) some intelligent person asked why he had made them unlawful to his disciples? He answered, that he had never said such a thing; but only that for his own part he did not eat any. His followers had trumped up several strange stories about him; for instance, that he once fell into a well, and on his being enquired after, and searched for, he was found standing in the air, without touching the surface of the water. This miracle having been immediately rumoured abroad, about five or six hundred persons flocked to his lodgings, professed their belief in him, and had the honour to be admitted amongst his disciples. In his youth he had associated to himself a learned young man, with whom he used to retire into a corner, there to read in his presence, some books of grammar and astrology; and having thereby provided himself with store of scientific words in Arabic, he used to retail them to his starers-at with a deal of emphasis in his discourses. Some persons put questions to him about his knowledge in the sciences; and to these he used to give this answer: “Yes, I have learned them all in the school of the Most High, in company with my master’s sons; there did I make my acquisitions.” He alluded to the infused science which had been bestowed on the two handsome ones.\(7\) When in company with some new persons, he used to make use of such obscure ambiguous expressions, as made the by-standers suspect that he knew more than he would express; and that he had the gift of seeing into men’s hearts, and of guessing at their thoughts. In short, he was a shrewd, artificious, knowing man, who had found means with some of his disciples to be entertained in Emir-qhan’s house, where he had a pension. After that nobleman’s death, he had the good luck to be mentioned to Ata-ollah-qhan by a certain Vezir-qhan, an Afghan in his service; and that nobleman becoming desirous to see so extraordinary a personage, obtained Aaly-verdy-qhan’s leave to invite him over; and he sent him a great sum of money, desiring him to accept it for his charges, and to repair speedily to Bengal with all his people. The man on this invitation assumed all the insignia of grandeur, as the fringed Paleky, and the kettle-drum; and drawing together six or seven hundred horse, all of them his relations and disciples, besides a great multitude of other people, that followed on foot, he made his appearance in Azim-abad, with a retinue and a pomp that impressed every one with respect and awe. It was in the year Eleven Hundred and Sixty. After tarrying two or three days in the outskirt of the city, he continued his route to M8rsh8d-abad. In that short stay of his, he was visited by men of the highest distinction and rank, such as Hadji-ahmed, and Abdol-aaly-qhan, who hearing of his fame, and struck with his celestial gifts and celestial qualifications, flocked to see him; and he returned their visits with a great deal of composure. It is in Abdol-aaly-qhan’s house that, I, the poor man, had an opportunity to see him; and there I soon guessed by his actions and words what kind of personage he could be. But the many visits he had received from persons of high rank, and the singular respect with which he was treated, had rendered him so proud and assuming, that Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, who was no less a man than the Governor-General of the Province, and a nephew of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s, having not thought it proper to pay him a visit, the man took offence, and spoke of it: a particular which the young Prince mentioned to his uncle in his letters; whilst on the other hand, Hadji-ahmed wrote to his brother in high terms of him; and after having said that the Lord Séyd was this, and that,\(8\) he added, that he was nothing inferior to Mustapha-qhan.
Aaly-verdy-qhan’s thoughts were then engrossed by the affairs
of Oressa, where he found that the vanquished Marhattas, although
expelled from the frontiers of Bengal, had taken shelter, together
with many of the dismissed troops of Shimshir-qhan’s and Serdar-qhan’s;
and as same the departure of Abdol-res8l-qhan, and
D8lobram’s imprisonment, there had not been any person of consequence
and authority in those parts, he resolved to send thither
Mir-djaafer-qhan with such a number of troops as the occasion
required. On this principle, he gave the supreme Government of
the Oressa to his son-in-law, Sàyd-ahmed-qhan; but appointed
Mir-djaafer-qhan to be his Nàib, or deputy in that province, complementing
him at the same time with the two Fodjdaries of Midnip8r
and Hedjly, over and above the office of Paymaster-General, which
he enjoyed these many years already. This new appointment was
conferred upon him in a public audience, where he was honoured
with a rich Qhylaat, an elephant, a horse, a sabre, and a poniard,
with a serpich, and a Djica of jewels; after which ceremony, he
was complimented with another set of jewels, elephants, and other
presents by Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, the Governor-General, as from
himself. These appointments being over, that General deputed
Mir-Ismàil, son to his maternal uncle, to act as his agent at Court,
and likewise, as his substitute in the Paymaster’s office; and he
sent a gentleman called Sudjan-sing to govern, as his deputy, in
the District of Hedjly. After these regulations, Mir-djaafer-qhan
departed for Catec at the head of seven thousand horse, and
twelve thousand foot; and in several days’ march, he met in the
territory of Midnip8r, a body of Marhattas and Afghans whom
he defeated. The Marhattas fled to Djalisser whither they were
pursued by Mir-djaafer-qhan, who encamped on this side of the
Kehnasa river, taking up his quarters on its banks; but without
daring however to cross it, being intimidated by a report of some
new troops of Marhattas which were to come from the Oressa.
In a few days more another report ran that Djano-dji, son to
Rhago-dji, was coming into that province with a numerous army.
This intelligence frightened Mir-djaafer-qhan. He suddenly decamped
from his post; and without leave from Aaly-verdy-qhan,
without even sending him advice, he marched back, and took
shelter in Bardevan; and all this with so much precipitation, that
Djano-dji’s vanguard, that pursued briskly, could only overtake
some elephants and some baggage of his, in his rear. This young
Prince was encouraged by Mir-djaafer-qhan’s timidity, and he kept
pursuing him for some time, to the surprise of all who knew that
General to be at the head of sixteen or seventeen thousand men.
Notwithstanding such a force, he retreated far off, without first
ascertaining whether he was really inferior; and without having
perviously tried the expedient of spears and swords. But Aaly-verdy-qhan
who was perfectly informed of the state of things,
sent beforehand Ata-ollah-qhan to the fugitive’s assistance, with
a body of troops; and it was at this conjuncture that Mir-aaly-ashgar
arrived at M8rsh8d-abad. However as Ata-ollah-qhan, on
whose invitation he had come over, was already gone, he did not
think it proper to pay his respects to the Prince, in that absence;
but taking his route by the outskirts of the city, he went, and
joined his patron with what troops he had brought with him. Ata-ollah-qhan,
who on Vezir-qhan’s narrative, had become a greater
admirer of Mir-aaly-ashgar’s, than the Afghan was himself, had
no sooner beheld the man, and seen the many tricks with which
he used to entrap the sots, than he became enamoured with him;
and giving him his confidence, he carried him to Bardevan, where
Mir-djaafer-qhan was arriving on his side. Djano-dji who had Mir-habib
with him, and a numerous army of Marhattas and Afghans,
finding Aaly-verdy-qhan absent, attacked the two Commanders;
and a sharp engagement took place, in which Ata-ollah-qhan
distinguished himself greatly; but none so much as the new comer,
Mir-aaly-ashgar-cobra, who at the head of his brigade, composed
Mir-djaafer-qhan
and Ata-ollah-qhan
conspire
against the
Viceroy.
of men of his family or of such as were his disciples, pushed
forwards with so much bravery and conduct, as deserved the
encomiums of both friends and foes. But he was a man of projects
as well as of heroical courage; and he inspired his protector with
such ambitious views, that the latter finding himself at a distance
from his master’s sight, and giddy with the fumes of his high command,
as well as elated with the little success he had had against
the Marhattas, thought himself a man of importance; and he conceived
the project of associating with Mir-djaafer-qhan, and making
use of his assistance to entrap and kill Aaly-verdy-qhan, whenever
he should come to his support; after which performance he
intended to assume the Government. All this was imparted to
Mir-djaafer-qhan by the medium of one Mir-mogholy-qhan, a light
headed foolish man, who was deeply rooted in that General’s
confidence; and the latter, in the natural supineness and carelessness
of his temper, gave into the scheme, and agreed that after the
intended revolution, himself should take possession of the Bahar
and of Azim-abad; and Ata-ollah-qhan, of Bengal. But so many
practices and parleys could not long remain a secret, and as soon as
this partition-treaty came to the knowledge of Mir-abdol-aziz and
of some others of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s friends, it was opposed with
all their might, and their reasons made such a strong impression on
that General’s mind that he repented of his mischievous scheme.
So that his favourite, Mir-mogholy-qhan, fearing the consequences
of what he had advised, quitted his service, and fled for his life.
By this time Aaly-verdy-qhan, who had got intelligence of the whole matter, was arrived with his army close to his two Generals, against whom he was highly incensed. Mir-djaafer-qhan immediately went to pay his respects, and was sharply reprimanded for his behaviour against the Marhattas, and for his precipitate retreat; after which he was dismissed to his quarters. But the General took so much offence at the bitter expressions made use of on that occasion, that he abstained from going to Court. As to Aata-ollah-qhan, the Viceroy thought better to gain his heart; and by way of complimenting him upon his success, he went to make him a visit, intending also to do him honour, by so unusual a condescendence, and to raise the man’s character. And it was there that Mir-aaly-ashgar-kobra had an opportunity of paying his respects to the Viceroy for the first time. Here it was observed of Ata-ollah-qhan, that he received this visit in an extraordinary manner, that did not become those relations of servant and Lord which subsisted between himself and his master; so that the Viceroy after some conversation got up and retired, highly displeased at what he had seen; but still resolved to stifle his resentment. On his return home, he received a petition from Ata-ollah-qhan, requesting that Mir-aaly-ashgar-kobra might be admitted into the service of His Highness at the head of a thousand horse, that should serve in Ata-olla-qhan’s brigade. The Viceroy, without betraying what he thought of the man, contented himself with writing at the bottom of the paper these words: “Do you take him in your own pay, if you will; but I cannot afford to add any more to your brigade.” Mir-kobra informed of this answer, took it ill, and wanted to quit the army directly; and this discontent affecting his patron, the latter took occasion to observe to the Viceroy, that should the Lord Sëyd come to quit the army, he should be necessitated to quit it himself. He was answered: That shall be just as you please. Ata-ollah-qhan, to whom Mir-kobra had promised as by a revelation from above, the possession of Bengal; and who had been so simple as to take that promise by way of bond, under the inspired impostor’s handwriting, and also so senseless as to believe it equally authentic with any revelation in the world; no sooner heard those words, than he quitted the army without giving himself one moment of delay; he took Mir-kobra with him, and retired to his house of M8rsh8d-abad. At this very time one of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s kinsmen having departed this life, the Viceroy conceived the scheme of regaining that General’s affection, by paying him a visit, under pretence of joining in the ṛitual prayers, that were to be pronounced over the deceased. The General elated at finding himself at the head of six or seven thousand horse, and at being decorated with some of the insignia customary to importance and grandeur, forgot himself so far, as to omit the usual demonstrations of respect: such as advancing a great way out of the tent to receive the Prince at his alighting; bowing to him in a proper manner; addressing him in a respectful strain; and besides that, he was guilty of some attitude and expressions unbecoming an inferior. Aaly-verdy-qhan who had already become sensible by the General’s behaviour, of the levity and sillyness of his character, returned home; and under The conspiracy discovered and punished. pretence of auditing the account of his Government of Hedjly, he sent for Sudjan-sing, deputy to Mir-djaafer-qhan in that district, a man whose secrecy was of all necessity to that General. Mir-djaafer-qhan answered: “That there was no sending for Sudjan-sing unless the Viceroy sent also for his (Mir-djaafer-qhan’s) head; and the order remained uncomplied with. The Viceroy shocked at an answer so extravagant, ordered Sëyd-mahmed, one of his Yessàols or Mace-bearers\(9\), to take some men with himself, and to bring Sudjan-sing by force. The Mace-bearer, who was a man of a peevish, violent temper, no sooner received the order, than he went to Mir-djaafer-qhan’s, and after having spoke roughly to him, he laid hold of Sudjan-sing by the hand, and brought him to his master. The latter for reasons of policy, bestowed the Fodjdary of Hedjly on Sudjan-sing himself, for the present, and the Paymaster’s office, on N8r-ollah-beg-qhan; and after having mulcted the General in those two lucrative employments, he also broke the Brigade which the latter commanded. An order of the new Paymaster’s office came out importing that whoever wanted to be inlisted, might enter into Seradj-ed-döulah’s Brigade, or get himself inscribed in the corps immediately paid by the Viceroy’s military chest. On the publication of this order, the troops of Mir-djaafer-qhan’s Brigade quitted him to a very few men; and that General finding himself alone on a sudden, thought proper to abate much of his high notions of himself. The fumes of pride that had shot up into his brain, and had obscured his understanding, subsided at once; and confounded as well as humbled, and even ashamed to shew his face, he quitted the army, and repaired to M8rsh8d-abad, where he threw himself into the arms of Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, for protection. It was at this very time, I, the poor man, arrived from Patna; and as I went often to this Prince’s palace, I had a full opportunity of learning all the above particulars.
But to return to the affairs of war, as soon as Aaly-verdy-qhan heard that Djano-dji was come into his neighbourhood with a numerous army of Marhattas and Afghans, he made haste to encounter them; and after a short march, he gave them battle, when the valorous of his army falling on the troops of Decan, with arrows thirsting after Marhatta blood, and with muskets vomiting fire and flames, made them drink plentifully of the wine of destruction, that flowed in torrents from their inflamed sabres; and having in this manner intoxicated vast numbers of them, they sent them to hell by shoals. Djano-dji, equally confounded and The Marhattas defeated a fourth time. overborne by the heavy blows of the Bengal troops, and now greatly crestfallen, resolved at last to recover his character, by quitting the enemy, and rushing upon the city of M8rsh8d-abad, which he expected to plunder in part at least; but he was so closely pursued, that he found no opportunity to accomplish his design. Obliged, therefore, to abandon his scheme with loss and shame, he took to the road of Midnip8r, always followed by the Bengal army, which he had no stomach to fight, and which did not allow him time to take breath. The Viceroy finding that the rainy season was at hand, returned to his capital, after having sent repeated orders to his son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, to banish Mir-kobra out of his dominions. That nobleman out of regard to Ata-ollah-qhan, had stayed the execution of the order; but the Viceroy being now near the city, wrote a sharp note to his deputy, informing him that he was now sending Rahem-qhan to see the man out of M8rsh8d-abad, or to bring him out of it by force, if the order should have failed of punctual execution. Ata-ollah-qhan hearing of the order, and of the character of the person dispatched to see it executed, sent for Mir-kobra; and after making him many presents, and giving a large sum of money for his charges, he expressed his regret and sorrow in a most extraordinary manner, and advised him to depart; but what looks singular, is that the impostor even in such an awful moment, had the impudence to put in his hand a paper under his seal and hand, by which he promised, as by a particular revelation from Heaven, that in two years’ time, he would be raised to the sovereignty of Bengal; after which he set out for his own country, very much humbled by the success of his journey. On his being arrived about Azim-abad, the Governor who had reasons to be dissatisfied with his conduct, sent him word that, as he had in his way to Bengal taken his route by the outskirts of the city, he must take the like circuit to return to his country. Unluckily for him, the lake which occupies all the western ground about that city, overflows all the environs in the rainy season; so that there remains no other road but through the markets and streets of Azim-abad itself. The man thunderstruck by that message, fell into the whirlpool of amazement and confusion; and he was at a loss what to do with himself; when Mehdy-nessar-qhan, taking pity of his situation, obtained that he should have leave to take his journey through the city. But his miseries were not over yet. Arrived at the river Sohon, he found Pahluvan-sing, the Zemindar, who with the Governor’s consent, had come on purpose to stripe him. The man humbled to the dust by the wretchedness of his situation, applied again to Mehdy-nessar-qhan; and by his intercession, and that of Hadji-ahmed and Abdol-aaly-qhan, he obtained an order to the Zemindar to let him pass with safety, and to furnish him with boats to cross the river. Moreover those two noble persons having asked leave of the Governor, sent jointly some of their troopers to see him safe out of the frontiers of the province.
Three months were already elapsed since his departure, and the season of rain was already over, when Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan conceived the scheme of becoming independent, as had done Mustapha-qhan, and of submitting his two brothers to his own power and influence. In his late journey to M8rsh8d-abad, he had cast a prying eye on the power and wealth of his two brothers, and on the Court of his uncle; and having reflected on the weakness of the two former, and on the old age of the latter, he had concluded that he would prove an overmatch for both. Full of this idea, he sent an agent to his uncle at a time when the cold season was setting in. The old Prince had come out of the city, and encamped at Amany-gundj, with intention to chase the Marhattas that had nestled themselves in the District of Midnip8r. The Governor Azim-abad aspires independence. The agent was one Mir-abdol-maaly, who had once been steward to Saadet-qhan, and lived now in Azim-abad, highly respected by the Governor. The purport of his speech was this: “That Shimshir-qhan and Serdar-qhan, the two dismissed Afghan Commanders, who on the supposition of their returning to live retired in their country of Deherbanga, had been suffered to repair quietly thither, were now inlisting vast numbers of their own countrymen, so far from dismissing those whom they had brought over from Bèngal with themselves. That to drive these people out of the province, was not without its difficulty; and to suffer them to fortify themselves in the heart of it, was highly impolitical, and full of danger. That, if His Highness should approve of the scheme, he thought that a middling way would be the safest, namely, that of attaching them to the service. For which purpose, he asked leave to retain those two officers with three thousand of their best horse; but that as the province of Azim-abad could not afford that additional expense, he submitted it to his pleasure, whether it might not be expedient to have the pay of those additional troops made disbursable by the treasury of Bengal.” This message seemed unwelcome to the Viceroy; and he appeared displeased with it at first. Nevertheless, he admitted the expediency of the scheme, as he saw some advantages likely to result from it, and he did not choose to disoblige his son-in-law. The envoy therefore having carried his point, returned to his master, with a very favourable answer to his request. And the Governor, being now at liberty to act, sent three persons of weight to invite the Afghans to take service with him. These were Aga-azimái, Taky-c8ly-qhan, and Mahmed-asker-qhan, now all three deceased; and it was by their channel that the whole negotiation was carried forwards. The envoys having gone over to Deherbanga, proferred their advantageous proposals to the two Commanders; and as these, on the other hand, had a mighty design of their own in their heads, the proposals were soon accepted; and soon reciprocal promises were confirmed by tremendous oaths on both sides. So that at the end of the month of Zilhidj in the year 1161—A.D. 1747, the Afghans marched down in great numbers towards the Ganga, and encamped over against the city of Azim-abad, where the The Governor takes the disbanded Afghans in his pay. Governor-General’s people as well as the citizens soon intermixed with them. They were commanded by four chiefs; Shimshir-qhan; his nephew, Morad-shir-qhan; and Serdar-qhan; and Baghshy-bó8liah. These four men pretended to be afraid of going to Court, where they apprehended some such fate might await them as that which had befallen both Abdol-kerim-qhan and Roshen-qhan in the beginning of the Viceroy’s administration, as well as that of his nephew’s. And as these apprehensions of theirs were not without foundation; and the Governor was not without some inquietude about their great numbers, and their being close to his capital; he went to make them a visit, his views being to shew how much confidence he reposed in their integrity, and how much he wished to dispel their apprehensions by so open a proceeding. This intention of his was sudden; nor did he impart it to any one; nor was he accompanied, as usual by his guards, or by any other troops, nor even by his household. He had with him only his younger son, Mirza-mehdy, and the poor man’s second brother, Sëyd-aaly-qhan, to whom the Prince had betrothed his daughter. He had also Mahmed-asker-qhan, his favourite; and getting upon one of those elegant boats of twenty or thirty oars, called Perendas,\(10\) he went to make a visit to Shimshir-qhan, whose tent was pitched on the other side of the river. That officer having descried his noble visitor from afar, came out of his tent, and received him at the landing place, where he made a profound bow, and presented his Nazur; after which he conducted him to his tent, made him sit in the Mesned, and after having made another bow, he went at some distance, and remained standing, as one in his service; nor would he sit down unless after repeated entreaties, and then only at a distance. A moment after M8rad-shir-qhan entered with some other officers; and in a moment the tent was thronged with Afghans that came to make their bows. M8rad-shir-qhan had his sabre in hand, as had all the others, and this was no more than conformable to the custom. However as soon as he was seated, he asked Shimshir-qhan whether he should fall on the Governor, immediately. This was in the Peshto language,\(11\) which is the vernacular tongue of the Afghans. Shimshir-qhan without uttering any answer, put his hand into his beard, as if to scratch himself, and shook his head very hard in token of disapprobation: and the sign was immediately understood. Séyd-aaly-qhan, my brother, who was present, told me all these particulars, on my return from Shah-djehan-abad. As to the Governor, he did not observe either the asking leave, or the sign of disapprobation; for fate had blinded him thoroughly. Shimshir-qhan a little after, produced in compliance with the custom, some horses and an elephant, for which he entreated his acceptance. The Governor excused himself, and getting up much to his own, and as he thought, much to their satisfaction, he commanded the Superintendent of the river to afford the Afghans as many boats as they should want, and to facilitate their passage; after which he returned to his palace. Boats were immediately brought, and numbers of Afghans being ferried over, they encamped at Djaafer-qhan’s garden, the chiefs passing first with their private retinues. The next day the Governor getting into his Paleky, almost alone, and without any other retinue, but two or three servants, went out of the city to look at them from Nedjm-eddin’s buildings. As soon as he was descried from afar Serdar-qhan marched up with his corps, and paid him his respects, which he did with a deal of cordiality; and indeed, it appeared afterwards, that he was not of the plot, and not so much as privy to it. For that officer being in the sequel on a visit to Shah-mahammed-zamin and Shah-rustem-aaly, openly disclaimed his knowing anything of the conspiracy. These were the principal Fakyrs or religious of those parts; two venerable personages, equally sincere and candid, and who had also the gift of knowing by intuition men’s innermost thoughts. That officer was heard to protest of his innocence, and to say that he knew nothing of the action intended by those two senseless impudent fellows, (for such was his expression) meaning thereby Shimshir-qhan and M8rad-shir-qhan; else, added he, I would have quitted their company, and abstained from their society. Now it is out of my power to part with them; and were I to do it, no man would believe me; moreover, my retreat would be attributed to cowardice and to unworthy motives. Out of a principle of honour, therefore, and out of regard to the name of Afghan, which they bear in common with me, I am obliged to stand by them; but it goes much against the grain.” These were Serdar-qhan’s expressions. But I have this anecdote from a person of weight and veracity, who has asserted that in fact, Serdar-qhan knew nothing of the plot; and that this was so far true, that the conspirators after having finished the Governor-General, intended likewise to fall upon that officer too, as upon an inimical man, whom it was proper to put out of the way before they should take possession of the country and Government. Be it as it will, at the end of the ten holy days of Muharrem, being the beginning of the year 1161, the conspirators resolved to go to the Governor’s palace, at a time when they knew that Mehdi-nessar-qhan, uncle to the poor man, an officer extremely trusted by the Governor-General, and sincerely attached to his person, was to repair to Seress and Cootombah, to bring to order the Zemindar of that country. And as most of the principal Commanders, like Qhadum-hassen-qhan and Ahmed-qhan-corèishy, and some other men of note, together with Radja Sunder-sing, Zemindar of Ticary, were under orders to attend him in that expedition, they were all absent from Court; and by a strange fatality, even those that might have attended, could not go thither, as the Governor to shew his thorough confidence in the Afghans, and his intire freedom from any designs that might give them umbrage, had sent the preceding day a Circular Order throughout the city, that no officer, no soldier, and no military man, should attend on the day appointed to receive the obeysance of the Afghans: a strange order indeed, so contrary to order, so opposite to the ordinary rules of decence, and which had never been issued, had not the unfortunate man been actually under the impulse of an inevitable destiny, that had blinded his understanding, and made him give precise orders for the very measures which were to operate his ruin. For so far was he from being deficient in intellects, that it may be said that having taken his uncle for his model and pattern, he had added that accession of keenness and judgment to his own stock of good sense and penetration; in so much that he seemed to have gone in those two qualities some degrees even beyond his prototype. It was myself absent at this very conjuncture, having been for a length of time abroad to pay my respects to my glorious father, who had received from Ghazy-eddin-qhan, (son to Nizam-el-mulk) the Government of Berheily and of some other neighbouring districts, that were of his Djaghir; and as he was not there, I advanced two or three stages farther; when by one of those singular events, that seem unaccountable to-day, I heard a voice which mentioned that Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan had been killed by Shimshir-qhan. I was alone. It was noon-day; nor could I discover any speaker either far or near; and this happened the very day he was killed. But the day after, as some wounded men whom I knew to belong to the Superintendent of Bodjp8r, chanced to come to Merli about Ghazip8r, I heard them say positively that the unfortunate Governor was killed, and that the Fodjdar of Shah-abad had been plundered by the Zemindars of those parts, who did not fail to avail themselves of the confusion that followed that nobleman’s death to commit their accustomed disorders. This event happened in the following manner:—
Shimshir-qhan and Serder-qhan, one day before the intended one, came with their people and paid their obeysance to the Governor by whom they were dismissed, each with a Biry of Paan\(12\) according to custom. The second day, which was the day appointed, the Governor, early in the morning, went and seated himself in the Chehel-s8t8n,\(13\) a building for which he had a predilection, it being founded and built by himself. He had with him Mahmed-asker-qhan, one of his favourites, who had been so useful in the negotiation with the Afghans; he had also, Mir-morteza; and Mir-beder-el-dehy, together with M8rlydur the head-spy, and Ramzani, the keeper of his arm-office, a man who had been originally a butcher. There was also one Sytaram, Comptroller of the light train of artillery, and agent to Qhadum-hassen-qhan. All these were seated; and numbers of mace-bearers and menial servants and footmen, were standing, with the Governor’s slave-boys. All these stood facing their master, as usual, and were there only likewise to augment the pomp of the solemnity. There were some others; and such were Mir-abdollah of the Royal race of the Seffies, who was one of the principal persons of Azim-abad, and enjoyed a small portion of land hereditary in his family by way of Altumgha; and Shah-Bendeghy, one of the principal Religious of the city, who resided in Djaafer-qhan’s garden, and had in his dwelling an impression of the holy foot\(14\). There were two or three persons more of that distinction, and two or three more that had come to pay their respects; for instance Mahtab-ráy, a Cahtry’s\(15\) son, who had been bred by Mahmed-asker-qhan, and was now attending his benefactor. He was sitting behind the Governor, and close to him, but unarmed like all the others; nor had any one of them a sabre in his hand, although it is so customary; and some had not even a poniard, although it is always worn as a part of a full dress; and this was the case with Mahmed-asker-qhan, Mir-m8rteza, Mir-beder-el-dehy; and M8rlydur; nor had one of them even a cattary in their girdles.\(16\) Only Ramzani held in its scabbard according to custom, his master’s long sword;\(17\) and he was standing behind him. Radja Ram-naráin with some M8tusuddies or Penmen, belonging to the Accomptant-office, was in a room apart, about the Moonshy-qhana or Secretary’s office. At forty or fifty yards from the Chehel-s8t8n, towards the east, in face of the Governor’s, but at a distance from him, stood Ynàiet-bhày-djan, who had been in times of yore steward to my father of glorious memory, and held actually the like office in the Governor’s household. And now the Afghans drawing near, Backshy-bö8liah came in first, with about a thousand men, who had their muskets loaded and primed, and their matches lighted. He with his people made a profound bow from a great distance, according to custom, and then bidding them range themselves on one side close to the wall, he with a few men of note in his corps, advanced nearer, but still at a distance, and made his second bow; after which he approached in a respectful manner, and presented his Nuzur and theirs. After him came that wretched M8rad-shir-qhan with five hundred Afghans armed and accoutred at all points, as well as covered with thick quilted coats. They all bowed from afar, and ranged themselves on the other side of the yard, fronting the former troops; whilst M8rad-shir-qhan moving forwards with a few of the most distinguished men of his corps, made his bow, and presented his Nuzur and theirs in the most respectful manner; after which he stood over against the Governor, and mentioned the names of those whose Nuzurs had been just received. Whilst he was speaking, the Governor-General asked where was Shimshir-qhan; and he was answered both by the speaker, and by some harcarrahs and messengers, that he was coming, as they had seen him mounted; and that he would be here in a little while. At this moment Shimshir-qhan himself was arrived at the C8tval’s Chab8trah or tribunal, where getting into his Paleky, he was surrounded by his Afghans, who could not be less than three or four thousand men, and had all dismounted, marching on foot with a slow, composed pace, but all armed and ready at all points. Their numbers were such, that the main street, as far as the castle gate, and eastern city gate, was filled with these miscreants. Shimshir-qhan’s arrival being announced, M8rad-shir-qhan dismissed this people out of the Chehel-s8t8n, to make room for others. On hearing these words they approached the Governor in crowds, and were receiving each their Biry of dismission,\(18\) until it came to be one Abdol-reshid-qhan’s turn to receive it. As it had been agreed amongst them, that this man should give the first blow, his hand happened to tremble, and his Biry of Paan fell to the ground. The Governor smiled at the accident, and mildly said, I suppose this Paan was not in your destiny; but here is another. Upon which he stopped to The Governor of Azim-abad murdered by the Afghans. look at the Paan-dan, or plate containing the Biries of Pann; and whilst he was taking another, that wretched drawing his cattary, made at the unfortunate man’s side; but as his hand was shaking, the blow had no effect. At sight of this, Mahmed-asker-qhan, who sat close to the Governor, screamed out: Traitor! What treason is this? And meanwhile the Governor raising his head to see what was the matter, and putting his hand to a sabre that was before him, as is customary, the wretched had time to draw his own sabre, and to give him such a violent blow, as cleft him from the shoulder down to the stomach, cutting down as far as the navel. Instantly the Prince fell dead on the pillow at his back. After this, the wretched or some one like himself, cut the Prince’s head as well as his right foot, and lodged them in his cleft stomach; doubtless thinking he was doing some fine action, or more probably, he was persuaded that this would operate like a charm upon his uncle and relations, and prevent their ever taking their revenge on him. Mir-m8rteza hearing the tumult, and thinking the Prince only wounded, ran to him and covered him with his body; but he was hacked to pieces in an instant. Mahmed-asker-qhan laid hold of the Prince’s sabre,\(19\) and after having defended himself sometime, was cut down. Mahtab-ráy having received a wound that left his side quite open, seated himself down, and taking the head of his murdered patron on his lap, he expired in that posture. Padeshah-nevaz-qhan, a Mansubdar, and a nobleman of great rank, who had been a man of great consequence and power in Fahqr-eddöulah’s Government, and was now commencing an acquaintance with the Governor, having just got up in this tumult, was immediately dispatched by those ruffians. Ramzany, the Daroga or Superintendent, who with the long sword of his master’s in his hand stood over against him, unsheathed it instantly; and being joined by Sitaram, the clerk, who took up another sword, they both rushed amongst thousands of Afghans, and after having fought with a strength and fidelity that did them honour, they both fell together, and together departed for the other world, where they arrived with a rosy face, and a glorious countenance. M8rlidur, and Mir-beder-el-dehy, with both their hands wounded, found means to escape from that scene of slaughter and confusion. Ram-naráin, and some other penmen, after having been stripped to the skin, were suffered to depart, some wounded, some not. Mir-abdollah himself could not escape the hands of those murderers, but after having parted with his Cattary, his Camur-bund or girdle, and his Shawl, which he threw amongst them. Shah-bendeghy was killed on the spot; the rest fled, every one as his mind could prompt him. The doorkeepers of the Seraglio seeing how matters went, quitted their stations, and fled every one to their own homes. Séyd-aaly-qhan, my youngest brother, who was then in the library, and getting ready with his masters and teachers to wait on the Governor who had sent for him, hearing the tumult and screams, was at a loss what to do with himself. His masters threw him into the women’s apartment, and dispersed immediately. In such a scene of confusion and dismay, Amina-begum, daughter of Aaly-verdy-qhan, and consort to the murdered Prince, had the presence of mind to order the gates of the Zenana or women’s apartment to be shut up; and getting Séyd-aaly-qhan upon the terrace of the building, which was contiguous to Shahamet-djung’s house, she bade him provide for himself just as he could, but by all means to find his way to the house of his uncle, Abdol-aaly-qhan; and unfortunately it happened that Abdol-aaly-qhan himself was gone on a visit to Sheh-abdol-ress8l-belgrami, an ancient Commander of character, who had served with honour under Ser-b8lend-qhan, and who having taken his leave from Aaly-verdy-qhan, was now returning to his own country. By a particular providence this gallant man, on passing by, spied a boy with a turbant of cloth of gold upon his head, who was staring in the street, and seemed much at a loss what to do with himself. He stopped short, and having recollected who he was, he was moved with pity, and throwing away the boy’s showy turbant, he put upon him some old clothes, with an old dirty blanket, and in that condition he took him along the water-side and carried him to Abdol-aaly-qhan’s house: an action by which he rendered an important service to the boy’s father and mother, as well as to all his relations.
Shimshir-qhan after having tarried awhile in that spot, sent order to Haiàt-qhan to bring Hadji-ahmed, father to the murdered Prince. That officer had already been sent to him, as if upon a visit; and he was there, when the order came. The Hadji on hearing of the order, was confounded and thunderstruck; but yet he would have escaped upon some good horse, and would have taken shelter at Radja Sunder-sing’s or in some other place of safety, had he not been withheld by an attachment to his money, and to his women, and above all, had he not been kept back by the force of a destiny which blinded him intirely. Whilst the satellites were breaking open his gate, he escaped by a breach in his wall, and went to a neighbouring house, where he was found at last, and confined; and for seventeen days together he underwent a variety of supplices inflicted upon him to oblige him to a discovery of his riches. So that they took from a secret part of his house, where he kept an impression of the sacred foot, about seventy lacs buried underground; and continuing to torment him, and to extort confessions, they got from him besides that sum, a great quantity of jewels and uncoined gold, which were buried in divers parts of his house; and yet from the house of his son, the Governor, they could get no more than about three lacs, as the report goes, and very little from all the houses of his murdered friends; the utmost they could get from each family, not amounting to more than a few thousand rupees a piece. At least this is as much as is come to the public knowledge. Hadji-ahmed spent with a variety of tortures, expired at the end of sixteen or seventeen days; and he was buried close to the Samelp8r quarter on the water side, a few paces beyond Djaafer-qhan’s garden; and it was in such a tomb as fell to his lot. After this, a guard was sent to the houses of both by Shimshir-qhan, who went and took up his residence in Djaafer-qhan’s garden, (leaving M8rad-shir-qhan to command in the city) his intention being to fight Aaly-verdy-qhan, who was reported to be coming. This intelligence made him spend his money and favours with an unsparing hand. He wrote everywhere to his countrymen, inviting them to come to his assistance; and it happened by a particular dispensation of Providence, that Afghans seemed that year to shoot up out of the ground like so many blades of grass. For it was at that very time that Ahmed-abdaly, the Afghan Monarch, had brought from his dominions of Herat and Candahar\(20\) an army of seventy thousand horse against Shah-djehan-abad; and about the same time, and whilst people were in daily expectations of that Prince’s arrival, Aaly-mahmed-rohilla, another Afghan, had quitted Serhend, where he commanded; and cutting his way through Soharen-p8r, he had come to Berhéily, where he had put everything in combustion. So that all India being now in arms, and every part of it full of Afghans, not a day passed, but the inhabitants of Azim-abad had their attention roused, and their fears awakened five or six times a day, by the sound of the Nagara or kettle-drum; and on inquiry it was always found that this was occasioned by some Afghan Commander who was coming to Shimshir-qhan’s assistance with so many men.
During all this time the city was a prey to all the horrors of sack and plunder. That General’s people as well as those of Bacshy-bö8liah’s, being restrained by no discipline, nor overawed by any constraint, spread throughout every quarter of that unfortunate city, where not a day passed without some houses undergoing all the horrors of violence and defilement. Dishonouring whole families became familiar; and few houses, and few persons did escape the defiling hands of an unbridled soldiery, and the infamous practices of that nation of miscreants.
But let us draw a veil upon all those infamies, and let us look out for Abdol-aaly-qhan, to whose house we have carried his nephew then a boy. That officer after having thought it expedient The Afghans spread throughout the city, which they sack and plunder. to pass the whole day in Sheh-abdol-ress8l’s house, was now (and it was night) retiring to his own lodgings on the water-side, where he had ready a number of boats for his baggage, together with one of those commodious vessels, called Badjaras, for his own person and family. All these were manned and ready; and the head boatman advised and intreated him to avail himself of the night to get in the boats with his family and effects; promising that “before the enemy could know precisely where he might be, he could carry him to thirty cosses distance, where he would not be overtaken, and where he might take what resolution he should judge proper.” He added, “that the city resembling now a place taken by assault, and given up to sack and plunder, the Afghans were not thoroughly acknowledged in it, yet.” And really this was the best resolution that could be taken; but Fate had determined it otherwise. Nor is it uncommon to see every day people who overwhelmed by the force of their destiny, neglect the most obvious means, in order to addict themselves to far fetched schemes and whimseys, and to expose themselves to mighty dangers, which it was in their power to have escaped. In one word, he chose to stay at home. After a few days, M8rad-shir-qhan having been appointed Superintendent of the city, sent Abdol-aaly-qhan word, that he wanted to see him. That Commander on receiving the order, got into his Paleky immediately with his usual train, that is, with a number of horsemen, mace-bearers, soldiers and servants of all sorts, that preceded and followed him at all times; and being arrived at the Afghan’s lodgings, the soldiers of the guard desired him to leave his people and arms at the gate, and to go in only with two or three servants, unarmed. The officer concluding that had any ill usage been intended for him, he had not been sent for by a single messenger, complied with the request, and went in on foot; and that wretched of Afghan, no sooner saw him, than without paying any attention to his high rank, he gave his arms and things to be plundered by his soldiers, and then sent him only with two or three servants to Shimshir-qhan, in a Paleky of his own. This General hearing of this affair, got up just as he was, and running bare-footed out of his tent, he expressed the greatest concern at what had happened, and asked repeatedly pardon for the mistake. Sending at the same time for his Paleky, he requested his making use of it; and dismissed him to his home with every demonstration of honour and regard, appointing a guard of a few men to see that no insult should be offered to his dwelling or person. Sometime after he was obliged to alter his conduct; and hearing that his people vented their resentment in bitter reproaches, and likewise that Aaly-verdy-qhan was coming, he sent for him again, and got him confined in a tent close to his own. At last importuned by M8rad-shir-qhan, and by Mustapha-qhan’s son, he gave orders for his execution. Abdol-aaly-qhan was put in a boat, which was rowed to the other side of the river; and the satellites were going to put their order in execution, when that officer with his companion, Séyd-nevaz-qhan, being informed of their intention, requested just time enough to purify himself by a legal ablution, and to offer a short prayer, after which he would submit to their pleasure; but whilst they were performing their prayers, a controrder arrived, and they were carried back. A religious person of great weight, named Shah Sadyc, was the cause of the controrder. He became surety for Abdol-aaly-qhan’s peaceable behaviour, and he carried him to his home that very day; but it was under condition, that should Aaly-verdy-qhan come, the prisoner would keep himself quiet, without offering in either action or word any injury to the present Government. As to Mehdy-nessar-qhan, my other uncle, he was in Seress-Cotombah, a district where by his master’s order he had been expelling the Zemindar from his lands; but as soon as the news of the Governor-General’s death became public, the Zemindar came back with his people, and attacked him. Mehdy-nessar-qhan with the few people that remained with him, and the money he had collected, made his retreat good to Rhotas, where Aaly-qhan, the Governor, received him as his guest with every demonstration of honour and regard, and lodged him in the fortress. As for the poor man’s house, that is, my mother’s house, I thank God, that it was preserved from disgrace and plunder; and it was in the following manner: The first day it was preserved by the presence of an Afghan officer, who had served under the poor man’s father, and who that day abandoned the out-houses, but saved the audience-hall with the women’s apartment. The second day it was secured by a guard sent by Bahtaver-qhan, another Afghan Commander, who had long been in my father’s service, and in whose presence my father had torn several bonds of his, to the amount of ten or twelve thousand Rupees. Bahtaver-qhan, who was a man of authority, and of great credit with Shimshir-qhan, requested that General to bestow our house upon him as his share of the plunder. He at the same time expressed the great obligations he had received from my father; and also the many important favours likewise which he had conferred on Sheh-mahmed-selah, the Lacnovian, and on Caly-qhan the Belminian, two Commanders of character. Bahtaver-qhan, in requesting Séyd-hedàiet-aaly-qhan’s house to be spared, had once threatened to part with Shimshir-qhan, and to give advice to the Governor of the conspiracy. His request was complied with; and as Shimshir-qhan, God knows for what reason, had the highest regard for that officer, he promised him whatever he had asked. After the revolution, the three officers above took their quarters in the audience-hall, from whence they used to repair to the Derbar or Court of Shimshir-qhan; and whenever they heard that any Commander was marching towards our lodgings, they would assemble their people, whose number could not amount to less than two or three thousand men, and would prepare for an engagement; and it was by such methods as these that it pleased God in those days of confusion, plunder, and insubordination, to preserve that spot from the most imminent danger of pollution and infamy.
All this while the body of the Governor had remained unattended to. At last, however, after two whole days, it was taken up by Séyd-mahmed the Isfahamian, father-in-law to Mir-háider-aaly, Cutval of the city, and son-in-law to the late Mirza-darab. Séyd-mahmed on the intreaties of Mir-háider-aaly, brought the body to his house, where he performed the religious rites over it, and wrapping it in a winding sheet of great value\(21\) which he had brought from Kerbela for himself, he committed it to the earth in that particular spot, that goes by the name of Hàibet-djung’s Monument, and which the deceased had bought for that very purpose in that quarter of the city, called Begum-p8ra.
Whilst that unfortunate city was in prey to all the atrocities that can be expected from the rage of an unbridled soldiery, a report spread that Aaly-verdy-qhan was advancing on his way to Azim-abad at the head of an army. Shimshir-qhan, therefore, and that abominable wretch, M8rad-shir-qhan, made haste to secure the family of the murdered Prince. With an impudence of mind, and an unfeelingness of temper, hardly to be paralleled throughout all the annals of Hindostan, those impudent wretches were not ashamed to send open carriages to bring to camp Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan’s consort and daughters, with Mirza-mehdi, his youngest son, then a boy; and without a veil, without a curtain, with not even a blanket thrown over them to intercept the sight of so many by-standers, those illustrious, those high-born persons were huddled together in those indecent carriages; and as if there had not been at hand so many by-ways to answer the same purpose, they were moreover carried along the high street and through the main market, to the great indignation of those crowds of honest folks, who thought it unlawful to raise their eyes-open upon such a forbidden spectacle, and loaded the authors of so much defilement with curses and execrations. Even the Afghans themselves joined in the general detestation. In a little time, the short lived authority of those miscreants came to an end; and the perpetrators of so much infamy felt the force of universal detestation, in the manner which this history shall certify, and which was no more than what they deserved.
The two chiefs, by spreading everywhere the money they had found in abundance, had brought together about forty thousand horse in the city, and nearly as many foot, mostly of their own nation. They took with them that numerous train of artillery which they had found ready at their hands, and they marched out to oppose Aaly-verdy-qhan. The latter was in the middle of winter, encamped at Amany-gunj, in the outskirts of the city of M8rsh8d-abad to oppose Mir-habib’s inroads, and Djano-dji’s ravages; when news came of that mighty event, of that heavy misfortune, that deprived him of a son-in-law, who was the eye and flambeau of his family, as well as the unquestionable delight of his heart; a son whom he compared to himself, whether in the arts of government or in those of the field. He had likewise lost his brother, and his daughter and grandson were kept in an unworthy confinement. On the other hand, he reflected likewise that the same revolution had deprived him of the province of Azim-abad, that is, of a full half of his dominions; that it had passed to the hands of an enemy; and that most of his own troops were of the same nation with that enemy. All these misfortunes crowding at once upon his mind, made a deep impression on it; but he did not lose his wonted firmness, nor ever betrayed any appearance of fear, or perturbation, or ever abated anything from his usual gravity, or the confidence and majesty of his deportment. The next day he ordered a general assembly of his friends as well as of his Military officers, high or low. When he saw them assembled and seated, he informed them of what had happened, and then delivered himself in these words: Gentlemen, a stone has struck me, and struck me very hard. A son of mine, a very able, and worthy son, has been murdered. My brother has perished in the torment. My children and grand-children are now prisoners, and are turned into so many objects of contempt and contumely. After such a flow of misfortunes life is become unpalatable to me, and improper to my circumstances. Nor do I know any other remedy to my woes, than that of killing or being killed. Now after such a declaration on my part, I ask what are your own sentiments? I speak to you all; and amongst so many friends, and so many field companions, now present, who is willing amongst you to become my assistant, and my associate in this perilous affair? This speech uttered with a tone of voice, and a cast of features, impressed by a sense of deep-felt woe, made the strongest effect on that numerous assembly. They answered in one general confused murmur that they were all his servants; all beholden for their well-being to him; all ready to obey his commands, and all ready to follow him. On hearing these words, he paused awhile, and then added: As your services have these many years acquired incredible rights upon my gratitude, I declare to you that, whoever shall please to become my man, my fellow soldier and succourer in this affair, I, on my side, shall become his man, and his fellow soldier, ready to part with my life or fortune in his cause. Either of these will be common between us; and as to those that may be disinclined from so laborious an undertaking, I have no objections to their retiring to their homes. Nor do I see why it should follow, that because I have myself preferred death to such a life, they also should prefer death to their own conveniency. These words having again produced a murmur of approbation, and several voices speaking together, on the murmurs subsiding, an officer advanced to the Mesned, and answered in these words for all the rest: There is no doubt but every one of us, your servants, has been benefited by his attachment to your Highness. We have every one of us experienced your favours, and received a variety of obligations from your family; and now we have no other intention than that of repaying you by shedding our blood in your cause. March then, and we follow. Soldiers and friends, replied the Viceroy, If ye are true to your words, and sincere in your protestations, do confirm your oaths by the ties of religion, that they may acquire a greater solidity, and become the more binding. At these words a Coran was produced, and every one getting up, swore upon it to the truth of his word, and the fidelity of his promise. As soon as the assembly had taken their seats again, the Prince addressed them again: Gentlemen, said he, I am a debtor to every one of you; and the arrears of your pay is a debt which I must by all means discharge; but you see the times; please to take patience and allow me time to liquidate the whole gradually. For do not believe I shall be sparing of my money with men that are not sparing of their blood. The assembly consented unanimously, and promised to be all of one heart and one mind in his service.
This affair being ended to his satisfaction, he turned his view towards raising the necessary money, and he obtained immense sums from his son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, and not a little from his own daughter, Bibi-Ghahassity, consort to that deputy. He also got mighty sums from Djagat-seat, and from the bankers and other money-lenders, as well as from the principal persons of his Court. All these sums being immediately paid to the troops, there still remained balances due them. But whilst these arrangements were taking, the city was in danger. The Marhattas were in full view, and had raised a great tumult; and as their manner of waging war is extremely troublesome and importune, and they never tarry at one place, but conduct their business chiefly by repeated skirmishes and repeated retreats, the Viceroy became uneasy at what might happen in his absence; and he resolved to remain encamped, and to secure the city, until the preparatives for his intended expedition might be fully completed. Meanwhile he sent his son-in-law, Sàyd-ahmed-qhan, to Bagvangola, with orders to secure the roads in those parts, in such a manner, as that the daily convoys of provisions from thence should not meet with any obstruction from the Marhattas, nor the enemy suffered to occasion a dearth in the city. He likewise published, “That at present his business was with the Afghans, a species of foes, from whom he could not divert his attention to any other object, and against whom he must march of all necessity. That mean while the Marhattas would be left in the heart of Bengal, an army of freebooters, that would ravage the country without controul, but against whom at present he could not insure the safety of the inhabitants. That it was proper, therefore, that every one should provide for his own safety, by retiring to some sure retreat.” As soon as these words of his became public, every one of those that could afford it, retired to the other side, that is, to the northern side of the Ganga; and the multitude, that could not afford to quit their homes, recommended themselves to God, and remained in the city. Aaly-verdy-qhan’s mind being now made easy on that head, he applied it so vigorously to the preparatives of his future campaign, and he gained the affection of the soldiers so effectually by a variety of favours, and by the affability of his deportment, that about the end of the second Reby, in the year 1161, A. D. 1749, he was enabled to take the field, with fourteen or fifteen thousand horse, and eight thousand foot, at the head of which he displayed his glorious standards towards the city of Azim-abad. From Amany-gundj he went to Chapàideh, which is a village at three cosses from M8rsh8d-abad, towards the west. He left his son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, to take care of the city in conjunction with Ata-ollah-qhan, under whose orders he put a body of five or six thousand men; commanded by Mir-djaafer-qhan; and as this officer had been for several years past Paymaster-General of the forces, an office which he had lost, and which had been bestowed on N8r-ollah-beg-qhan, the office in question was restored to him with a view to gain that General’s heart, and to shew a regard to Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s intercession. And as it was expected that the army on its march, would be followed and harassed by the flying parties of the Marhattas, and probably would suffer from a dearth, if not from a scarcity of provisions, it was recommended to the most eminent grain merchants that followed the army, and to all those that could afford the precaution, to lay in a store of provisions, and to accompany the army in their boats laden with stores. In short, after taking every precaution, and providing against every probable accident, he displayed the standards of good luck, and quitting Chapàideh, he resolved to march against the enemy.
As soon as this intelligence was conveyed to the Marhattas, they guessed his intention; and being resolved on their side to support the Afghans at any rate, they gave up their wonted custom of warfare; and abandoning their schemes of plundering the city of M8rsh8d-abad, they took to a mountainous country on the left of the victorious army, and marched incessantly under cover. The Bengal army on its march received some assistance from Sèif-qhan, who possessed the Fodjdary of P8raniah from a long series of years. That nobleman having heard of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s expedition, sent to his assistance Sheh-din-mahmed, son to Sheh-mudjahed, a chief Commander in his service, at the head of fifteen hundred musqueteers; excusing himself at the same time on pretence of sickness, from waiting upon him in person. The officer having crossed the Ganga at Carangola, attempted to join Aaly-verdy-qhan, who he heard would stay two or three days at Mongher; and he was already arrived at Soltan-gundj, Brave defence made by an officer. when he was set upon by the Marhattas, who hearing of his small numbers, sent a detachment to overtake him. The man without being dismayed, stood his ground the whole day, after having dispatched a swift horseman to give advice to Aaly-verdy-qhan of his situation. This Prince, although averse from dividing his army, sent the four sons of Omer-qhan with a body of troops to succour him; but before the detachment could arrive, the Marhattas, at sunset, had already retired to their camp, as is their custom. So that Din-mahamed availed himself of this retreat, and of the darkness of the night, to march without discontinuation, until at day-break he met the detachment, with which he marched on leisurely, so as to reach the army betimes. The next day he paid his respects to Aaly-verdy-qhan, who loaded him with caresses and encomiums. The officer in relating his engagement with the Marhattas, mentioned that having spent all the powder he had received from his master, he requested a supply from the army’s stores, lest he might he found destitute in the future engagement with the Afghans. This was a very natural request, but to the amazement of all, it was not heard; and the Viceroy, intent on sparing his stores, expressed doubts about the officer’s spending all his powder. The latter observed the length of the engagement, which had lasted from morning till evening; but the Viceroy still doubted; and it required a deal of persuasion, and many intreaties to make him spare a small quantity of gunpowder. Strange to say! that so great a Prince, and otherwise so generous a man, should have taken up so much time to consider whether he should bestow some gunpowder on a deserving officer: an article too so cheap, and at that time, so very necessary to the petitioner. It was a little after this event, that a man who carried a letter of importance from Ata-ollah-qhan to the two Afghan Generals, fell in the hands of Dost-nick-bedaqhshani, an officer in the Bengal army. By comparing the purport of the letter with the man’s answers, it became evident that Ata-ollah-qhan solicited their concurrence and their alliance, offering them an union of concerns and interests, and exhorting them to a vigorous opposition on promise of support.
Such a discovery could not but affect the Viceroy; however his attention was soon diverted to another object. Whilst the Bengal army was on its march, Mir-habib, of whom all track had been lost in his journey through the mountainous countries, emerged all at once about Bagal-p8r, and was now on the little river of Champa-nagar, where falling unexpectedly upon the laggers of the army, he occasioned much disorder and much tumult amongst the people that attended the baggage; after which he retreated with his booty. But this did not prevent the Viceroy from continuing his journey to Mongher, where he was met by Radja Sunder-sing, Zemindar of Ticary, who had received important favours from him, and was greatly attached to his family; and likewise by Camcar-qhan, Zemindar of Tarhut and Samáy. They both came to pay their respects, and to offer their services; and they were received with demonstrations of honour and regard. Immediately after them, came the cream of law-learning, the Prince of doctors, the withdrawer of the veil of celestial and terrestrial truths, our Lord and teacher,———Mir-mahmed-aaly-fazyl, (May God perpetuate the refreshing pure streams of his learning!) and he came to pay his respects to the Viceroy, who received him with the utmost regard, and shewed him every demonstration of honour. He is a personage, of whose merit we shall make further mention, when we come to speak more particularly of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, as well as of his private way of life. This excellent man was followed in a few days by some other persons of distinction, such as Qhadum-hassen-qhan, who having quitted the army for some disgust against Mehdy-nessar-qhan, was coming to Azim-abad, and had already pitched his tent at P8lvary; where hearing of that lamentable event, (his master’s death) and finding it dangerous to retreat, he thought it expedient to join his murderers, until some favourable opportunity should serve. Hearing in the sequel that the Viceroy was arrived at Mongher, he gave the Afghans the slip, and came to pay his respects to that Prince who admitted him the honour of kissing the threshold of the sublime gate. Thither came also Ismáil-c8li-qhan, a nobleman who on the first news of the revolution at Azim-abad, had taken fright and was flying to M8rsh8d-abad; but on his coming to pay his obeysance, no kind of notice was taken of it, as he had already lost his character. News came at the same time that the two Afghan Commanders, with fifty thousand of their countrymen, all as great miscreants and as odious as themselves, had quitted the city of Azim-abad with all those implements of war which they had found ready assembled at their hands; and that they had encamped at the town of Bar. This intelligence having reached Aaly-verdy-qhan, who had tarried a few days at Mongher, only to afford some rest to his army, and to implore the Divine assistance, he displayed his victorious standards, and marched forwards to meet the enemy.
It was at this very critical time, that Mir-habib, and Djano-dji arrived in the neighbourhood of Azim-abad, from whence they immediately sent notice of their arrival to the two Afghan Generals. These two men who had only put in execution the several parts of that mighty revolution, which had been planned by Mir-habib, but where he and the Marhattas had pointed out to them mighty benefits which they had taken upon themselves, thought that now was the time to confer with them. They went to pay a visit to Mir-habib as well as to Djano-dji, as to two men in whose service they reckoned themselves to be; for this Mir-habib had been the proposer, and first mobile of that whole affair. He was a man of a fiery temper, fertile in expedient, vindicative, and ardent in everything that tended to ruin Aaly-verdy-qhan’s power; but he was very little seconded by fortune. Djano-dji and Mir-habib bestowed rich Qhylaats on Shimshir-qhan and his colleague, whom they treated in all respects as men in their pay; and Mir-habib doubtless thought that he had conferred on them thereby the Viceroyalty of Bahar. After this visit they were dismissed to their camp; for the Afghans, who had formed high pretensions upon him for their salary, seemed only to conform to whatever he pleased. The next day Mir-habib returned the visit, upon an invitation from the Afghans, who had prepared an entertainment. He was accompanied by Mirza-mahmed-saleh, by Mohon-sing, and by some other persons of distinction. A great deal of respect was shewn him, and he was sumptuously entertained. After the entertainment, he was shewn into a magnificent tent, pitched on purpose for his taking some repose in the afternoon; they also sent a guard thither, in appearance to do him honour, but in reality for quite another purpose. The officers had orders to let Mir-habib repose leisurely; but on his offering to return to his camp, they were to prevent him, and to represent, “that the Afghans had engaged on that dangerous enterprise solely on his promises. That they had performed their own part, as men in his service, by dispatching Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan; and were now to the number of fifty thousand horse and foot ready to fight the enemy, and all this, by his orders, and for his sake; but as the pay of the troops was in arrear by a vast balance, it was proper that he should provide for their immediate relief by a sum of thirty or forty lacks; after which he might return to his camp, to find the remainder.” Mir-habib’s situation now became critical; but he was extricated by his friend, Mirza-saleh, to whom he had given proper instructions, and who having examined the scheme by himself, executed the following stratagem: He engaged a number of Marhatta troopers to absent themselves from the Afghan camp; and then to return full speed, crying out that Aaly-verdy-qhan was at hand, and that his vanguard was in pursuit of them. The troopers did as they were bid, and filled the Afghan army with tumult; and Mir-habib getting ready with his retinue, intended to return to his camp, when he was met by the two Afghan Generals who renewed their request, but were answered by Mir-habib “that they took very ill their time for stopping him and setting up a conference and a negotiation; that such a stoppage could not but produce some great evil, and would occasion precisely what the enemy wished for; that Aaly-verdy-qhan thirsting for revenge was at hand; and that such a sum would be duly considered, and as much as he could afford it, provided for after his return to his camp; but that such an affair required leisure and recollection; and that now the main business was how to get ready for an engagement, as not a moment was to be lost in disputes.” This speech produced its full effect. The Afghans considered, consented to a parley; and at last Mir-habib agreed to pay down two lacs of rupees for which a Banker became his security. It was with such a contrivance he found means to depart from the Afghan camp, and to arrive safe among his own troops, together with his right-hand-man Mirza-saleh. The next day the two armies, having just seen each other, and being only at three cosses distance, every one prepared for a general action.
\(22\) The Navvab, Sword of the Empire, the Valorous of the State, the valiant Mahmed Aaly-verdy-qhan, ever formidable in battles, who in those times had not his equal, except Assef-dja-nizam-el-mulk, in the art of ranging an army in battle and in choosing a post, did not think it proper to quit the shore of the Ganga, but kept close to its banks, along which he advanced towards the town of Bar, where he found the Afghans encamped on the other side of a small river, which was in times of yore, the Ganga itself, but where the water having quitted that shore, and gone over to the other side, had left just such a small quantity of water, and in so narrow a stream, as formed an Island on the ancient bed called the Derab, or hollow; on the other side of which the Afghans had encamped, but which they turned into a very strong post, by lining all the shores with that numerous artillery which abounded in their camp; in so much that the passage had been rendered of every difficult access. The Viceroy having taken information from a Zemindar of that neighbourhood, advanced westwards about two miles during the night time, and passed on the other side without any difficulty; nor did this event come to the knowledge of the Afghans but when it was already mid-day. Struck with surprise and amazement, they abandoned that numerous artillery with all its implements, and disappeared; and this first success proved so auspicious, that the Viceroy took it up as a good omen to his future operations. Suspecting, however, that some deceit might lurk in this sudden retreat, he advanced beyond his own artillery, and passed the whole night waking, with part of his army under arms. At the end of the night, when the horizon commenced to redden, and the divine goodness was sending forth the beneficent rays of its sun, he made his morning prayer, and rubbing the forehead of supplication and humility, on the future field of battle, he petitioned the Supreme Overseer of the afflicted for success and victory over those murdering enemies of his family. After this, he produced a small cake made of the earth of the sacred tomb of the Prince of Martyrs,\(23\) (a precious gem which he always carried with him on such important occasions) and having adorned his forehead with some dust from it, he found within himself an accession of vigour, and he gave the order of march. On getting up with the enemy, he again made a short prayer, mounted his elephant, and prepared for battle. After having examined the country about Bar, and paid a proper attention to that hollow plain, in which is the village called Rani-Choc, (and this is but at four cosses from that town) he disposed his army in the following manner: Bahadyr-aaly-qhan, with the heavy artillery was placed in the front of all. Behind him was stationed Háider-aaly-qhan with the field-pieces; and he was to be supported by Rahem-qhan and Mir-mahmed-cazem-qhan, and Dost-mahmed-qhan at the head of their respective brigades. These were his main body in one line. On the left of this, and a little behind, over against the part where the Marhattas had made their appearance, he placed Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, his son-in-law, with Alla-yar-qhan, and Mirza-Iredj-qhan and Radja Sunder-sing, and Radja Camcar-qhan with some other Commanders, all at the head of their brigades. Umer-qhan received orders to ride the Viceroy’s standard-elephant, quite close to the Prince himself and in his front; and that Commander’s four sons, viz., Assalet-qhan, and Dilir-qhan, and Ahmed-qhan, and Mahmed-qhan, with their troops, were ordered to attend their father. But Sheh-din-mahmed with several other Commanders, received orders to cover their flank. All these dispositions being made; the Viceroy took his post in the centre of all. On the opposite side, the two Afghan Generals put their army in the following order of battle: They had of their own about thirty thousand horse and foot, besides Baqshi-bo8liah’s infantry, and a multitude of other Afghans lately arrived. Hayat-qhan, a Commander of character, was stationed with his corps on the very banks of the Ganga, towards the left, with a battery of heavy cannon, with which he had orders to fire incessantly against the enemy’s centre, and against Aaly-verdy-qhan’s person. The rest of the army formed a body that extended in a line westwards of the river for a great length. The Marhattas, on the other hand, forming an angle with this line, fronted the whole left wing of the enemy; and Aaly-verdy-qhan, enclosed between two armies each of which was stronger than his own, looked like a gem encircled with metal. The Marhattas were skirinishing endlessly, and the Bengal army seemed to be given up for lost; but it must be acknowledged for the sake of truth, that never did that hero exhibit so much steadiness and fortitude, as in that trying day, in which few men would have not felt their firmness daunted by so formidable an appearance of superiority. The two armies now advancing to engage, and the artillery firing already, a ball directed by the Sovereign disposer of events, took up Serdar-qhan’s head, and shockingly mangled his body; and his troops deprived of a Commander, reputed still braver than Shimshir-qhan, were disheartened, broke their ranks, and then dispersed; nor were these less than a full half of the Afghan army. By this time Hàider-aaly-qhan was advancing towards those disheartened troops with his infantry, and perpetually pouring upon them such sheets of fire, as darkened the light of the sun; and having turned noon-day into a dark night, the ambient air became as black and as frightful as the reprobated faces of those wretched ravagers. Aaly-verdy-qhan on observing the confusion and fluctuation occasioned by this fire, ordered Sheh-djehan-yar and Fakyr-ollah-beg-qhan to advance with their cavalry, and to charge the confused enemies; but neither of those two officers moved a step. At this very moment the Marhattas, and Mir-habib, seeing the Bengal army fully employed by the Afghans, fell upon its left wing, and made so vigorous an attack, that Seradj-ed-döulah, whose elephant was close to that of his uncle, observed “that matters grew serious there, and that some assistance must be sent against those enemies immediately, or it would become too late to think of it.” Aaly-verdy-qhan with an inflamed face, and a tone of anger and peevishness not customary to him, answered bluntly, pray, who are the Marhattas, and who is Mir-habib? My enemies now are those that are before me. After I shall have been revenged of those miscreants, I hope with God’s blessing to give a good account of the Marhattas themselves, and to drive them out of my country. After this answer, he, without looking at the Marhattas, continued with his face turned against the Afghans, and he again sent an order to Fakyr-ollah-beg-qhan to charge directly. Whilst he was yet speaking, a swift horseman came up, with a joint message from Rahem-qhan, and Dost-mahmed-qhan, and Mir-cazem-qhan, and Hàider-aaly-qhan, requesting leave to charge immediately, as the enemies seemed confounded, and greatly disordered by the fire of the infantry; “we only wait for your order,” added the messenger; “and be sure to cover our rear so as to preserve our communication with you.” Go, my valorous fellows, answered the Viceroy, go where victory beckons to you; and rest assured that you shall see me close to your backs, and at hand to support you. The messenger having returned on a gallop, a moment after the first line was seen to move forwards. The Viceroy immediatly moved at the same time; and the action at once became a scene of hand-blows. Dost-mahmed-qhan, and Mir-cazem-qhan, both rivals of glory, and both friends, rode on the same elephant; and desirous of being beforehand with the others, they were pushing eagerly forwards. The engagement now becoming closer and closer, every one engaged the man over against him, and fought hand to hand, in such a manner that the enemy’s blood commenced flowing in abundance, and it dropped on the dry ground, like the hair from the eye-brows of the afflicted ones. The two friends pushing eagerly forwards, without looking behind, at last closed with M8rad-shir-qhan’s elephant, upon which Mir-cazem-qhan was already jumping, having seized the opposite Häodah with one hand. The Afghan General, although wounded by a musquet-ball, had force enough to raise his head, and seizing a sabre or an Afghan knife\(24\), he twice struck his enemy, cut some of his fingers away, and made him quit his hold. Whilst he was thus engaged, Dost-mahmed-qhan jumped into the Häodah, and having brought him down by his weight, he cut his head off. Instantly the man who had lost his hold and his fingers, having applied his wounded hand to the Häodah’s board, got up again. It was at that time that Shimshir-qhan fell wounded from his elephant, without it being known how, nor by whom. This having been perceived by Djib-beg, a gentleman attached to Dilir-qhan, he jumped down from his horse, cut off the Afghan’s head, and ran to present it to Aaly-verdy-qhan; and these two guilty heads, stuffed with so much ingratitude and pride and imprudence, having been now brought down from their seats, by the dispositions of an avenging Providence, were made fast to the feet of the Viceroy’s elephant. At sight of this, that Prince inclined himself profoundly, and rubbed the front of humility on the ground of acknowledgment, for an event which became a sure forerunner of victory; setting open at the same time the gate of joy and gladness, he ordered the music to strike up, and the enemy to be charged everywhere, without affording him time to breathe. Meanwhile the Marhatta army, which had advanced fiercely against the left wing, as against a sure prey, finding that the engagement had taken a turn which had never been so much as suspected, and which had intirely changed the face of things, were astonished at the firmness and fortune of a man always crowned with success. They doubted of their being able to face so fortunate a Commander; and quitting the engagement, they commenced retreating. So that Aaly-verdy-qhan being freed from those importunate enemies, turned his whole attention against the Afghans; he pursued them to their camp, which he entered with all the pride of victory, planting his fortunate standards at the very entrance. All this while the unfortunate Governor’s consort, Aminah-begum, with her daughters, and Mirza-mehdy, her son, were kept prisoners in a tent, that had become the seat of misery and wretchedness, and where they were exposed to all kinds of hardships and to every kind of contumely. Those unfortunate persons hearing of this unexpected revolution, thought they had come a second time into the world, and they commenced to breathe freely. Those illustrious captives were brought to the Viceroy’s quarters, and a flood of tears, as well as an inundation of joy, followed the interview. All was silence for a longwhile; at last they both opened their hearts and mouths to return their acknowledgment to the Supreme comforter. On hearing of this piece of good news, the inhabitants of the city of Azim-abad, high or low gave themselves up to an universal joy; and their hearts contracted this longwhile by the pressure of misfortune, sorrow, and regret, being set at liberty by this revolution, expanded at the welcome news. They thronged in crowds to see the unexpected scene, and to kiss the desired threshold; and they returned home each with a provision of joy for the rest of the year. The nobles and the people flocked out of the gates into the victorious camp of that fortunate and benevolent Prince, to contemplate that pattern of both glory and simplicity of heart; and after having feasted their eyes with the sight of their beloved lord, and contemplated the individuals of a family that had become the darling of mankind, they seemed to have obtained the utmost scope of their fondest wishes. Aaly-verdy-qhan, after having given some rest to his troops for a couple of days, spread his victorious standards, and marched into the city of Azim-abad in military array, but yet with a pomp that darkened the eye of his enemies, and gladdened the hearts of his friends. He carried so much benignity in his looks, and shewed so much mercifulness and condescendence in whatever he did or said, that he afforded long draughts of a refreshing relief to the distressed inhabitants of a city and country, whose afflicted hearts had been these two months and-a-half thirsting after such a day, and spreading constantly the eye of expectation as a carpet for his beneficent arrival. The Prince’s emotions at these unfeigned demonstrations of joy were guessed by his alighting again, to return his acknowledgment to the Spring and Author of all benefits. He renewed his orders for performing the vows and oblations. He had commanded sums and pensions to be distributed to the needy, to the Séyds, and to the distressed believers,\(25\) as well as to the impotent and poor of all sorts; after which he wrote to his Deputy at M8rsh8d-abad, that “Thanks be to God, he had obtained a complete victory, and such as his heart had wished; and that, therefore, there remained nothing more on his part, than to distribute to the Séyd and to the needy families of that city, the sums that had been vowed for their relief. He commanded him to keep always in his eye the content and satisfaction of the inhabitants committed to his care, as the main object of his administration; so as to afford some consolation to a loyal people that had already suffered but too much from the apprehensions of the iniquitous government of a set a miscreants that had murdered his children, overwhelmed his family and essentially injured his loving subjects.” These letters being dispatched, he sent trusty officers and other persons of his household to confiscate and bring away the property which that ungrateful nation had left at Deher-banga. At the same time letters came from the Zemindar of Betia, humbly setting forth, that the “families of Shimshir-qhan and Serdar-qhan had been lodged with him by their owners, as in a place of safety; and that should these defenceless persons be suffered to depart to some other country, he would undertake to pay to His Highness a Nuzur or present of three lacs of rupees.” This offer was not accepted; and trustly persons were sent to bring that family away. In order to give those persons more weight, and also to keep the Zemindar in awe, Aaly-verdy-qhan himself crossed the Ganga, and under pretence of hunting, he advanced two or three days’ journey towards the Betia; after having left the care of the city to his son-in-law, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan. The Zemindar of Betia intimidated by those appearances, thought proper to deliver to the envoy the consort and daughters of Shimshir-qhan; and orders were immediately dispatched to them, to bring those Ladies in covered coaches, and with so much decence and care, as that they should never come to be defiled by any prophane eye. Directions likewise were given that, instead of being carried along the main street and the several markets of the city of Azim-abad, they should take a circuit, go round the unfrequented parts of the ramparts, and be conducted with the utmost respect and secrecy to his Seraglio, about the western gate; but by all means to take care that they should suffer no injury, nor meet with any subject of discontent on their way. As soon as they arrived at the gate of the sanctuary they were received with kindness, and assigned a decent apartment for themselves and their attendants. The attention to decence was carried so far, that Seradj-ed-döulah, who was the whole delight of his soul, and who used to get into the Prince’s Seraglio at all times without sending or giving notice, was now commanded to submit to those demonstrations of respect and precaution, lest the sight of unlawful women should by some chance come to meet his youthful eye; a precaution to which Aaly-verdy-qhan submitted himself now, always sending notice,\(26\) whenever he went into his inner apartment. He also madeit a point to shew those ladies every mark of regard and attention. Whenever he received any fine fruit, or any victuals had been His extreme delicacy on their account. prepared to his particular mind, (and he was very nice in this last article) he always sent them a share first of all, and then only he thought of his own consort and daughters; and such a share was always upon an equality. But whenever there happened to be some holy days, or some other solemn occasion, in which it became proper to send Shimshir-qhan’s consort a compliment or a message suitable to the occasion, it was always by the expression of Nàni or of my grand-mother. For as to the daughters, he never so much as mentioned them; a delicacy, that does him the more honour, as his own daughter, and his grand-children of both sexes, had been treated with the utmost contempt and contumely by those ungrateful miscreants, who would have never been able to repay him for the many favours heaped upon them, had they spent their whole lives in his service; and who yet made no other return for so many benefits, than that of suffering those forlorn captives to become a prey to every distress and every misery imaginable. So infamous a behaviour rendered those miscreants in their life-time, the scope of the arrows of every one’s satire and reproach; and after their death, their memory has ever been held in horror and detestation. But it was not with any view to himself that Aaly-verdy-qhan had sent for those Afghan ladies. It was, said he, to rescue their honour from the consequences of a sudden revolution, or a precipitate flight; for to all the sweetness of good manners and good breeding, he joined a great knowledge of mankind, and a very keen sighted prudence; and he was heard to say, more than once, that he had no business at all with any man’s honour or women, although he should prove his bitterest enemy. Business with his women, would he say, I never had, nor will ever have; and if I have sent for these veiled ones,\(27\) it is to shew the world, and even to Shimshir-qhan’s departed soul, what difference there is between himself and me. That man had made me no proper return, by using so shamelessly ill my children and grand-children. Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan himself had offered him no injury; and I am not conscious of having done that Afghan anything but much good. And even supposing that he did harbour some secret discontent against my son-in-law, still he revenged himself by treating him as no man ought to be treated by another. But what had his women done him? And what was the guilt of his consort? What wrong had they done him, for his inflicting such a treatment upon them? Such were that Prince’s sentiments. Some time after, he found an opportunity of carrying his benignity much farther. Shimshir-qhan’s eldest daughter had been betrothed to one Shah-mahmed-asac, one of the descendants of Cassem-sulëimany’s, an Afghan of note, who had turned Fakyr, or religious, in times of yore, but who had been shut up in the fortress of Chennar-gur by order of the Emperor Djehanghiri,\(28\) who did not like his being followed by such shoals of sectators. There the man ended his life, and there his disciples in conjunction with the Afghans his sectators, had raised over his bones a fine monument much resorted to by devotees, and which in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s time was kept in full repair, so as to attract much notice. This monument cuts a figure in the western part of the town, adjoining to the fortress itself; but since the English have added that stronghold to the conquests they have made of all the eastern provinces of Hindostan, the Mausoleum has lost its revenues, and the pilgrims their usual entertainment. It is now going to decay; and God only knows what further humiliation it is still to expect. This Mahmed-asac, bearing a character much admired by the Afghans, Aaly-verdy-qhan sent for him, and bestowed on him his intended bride. The nuptials were celebrated in so generous a manner, that he made rich presents tot he new married couple, conferred a number of favours on the whole family, and at their own request, he dismissed them to Deher-banga, which was their native place, and where by his order they were complemented with several villages that furnished amply to their subsistence. Another instance of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s benignity of temper, and of his regard for the sex in particular, may be observed in his attention to Mir-habib’s consort, that bitter enemy to his person and family. The consort of that General, even after his flight and defection, had continued to enjoy perfect safety in M8rsh8d-abad, where she remained several years, always respected by the Government. But as the keeping such a family any longer in that Capital was susceptible of inconvenience, the Viceroy wrote now to his Deputy, to have that lady conveyed to the frontiers with her whole family in the most decent manner, after having complimented her with a larger sum of money than that which she had requested herself for the charges of her journey. The order bore that her person should be entrusted to some approved man, whose business should be not to lose sight of her, until she had been delivered into her Lord’s hand. All these events happened about the time when A.D. 1748-9 news came, that the Emperor Mahmed-shah had departed this life, and that his son, Ahmed-shah, had become in his stead the ornament of the Hindostany Throne.
CONTENTS.
Strange conspiracy of a son against his father—Seradj-ed-döula’s ascendance on his uncle’s mind—Dissensions creep in the Viceroy’s family—Amazing fortune of Ata-ollah-qhan—The Viceroy carries with him to his Capital a number of learned men of Azim-abad—The author finds his grand-uncle, Abdol-aaly-qhan, disgraced, and in misery—And all his relations and friends gone to the Court of M8rsh8d-abad—Séif-qhan, hereditary Governor of P8rania, is slighted by the Viceroy, and soon after dies—Ill conduct of his son and successor, who has the folly to take a journey to M8rsh8d-abad—The Marhatta Prince, Djano-dji, attempts to plunder that city—The Viceroy marches against him—A whole Brigade mutinies, and is broke and disbanded —The Viceroy pursues Djano-dji—Infamous usage offered to the willing garrison of Bara-bati—That fortress surrenders —Description of the City of Catec—The Viceroy returns to his Capital, through an infinity of difficulties—First campaign of Seradj-ed-döulah—Strange infidelities in the Bengal army— Strange behaviour of a Zemindar who had offered himself for a guide—Seradj-ed-döulah elopes and revolts—The old Viceroy passionately doating on his grandson—Strange attack on the City of Azim-abad by sixty men—Singular combat between two noblemen, equally stout and brave—The Viceroy recovers his nephew, and then falls dangerously ill—The Viceroy again, at the head of his troops, forces the Marhattas to retreat—The two parties tired of a Twelve Years’ War—Peace concluded—An immense balance, long forgotten, recovered for the treasury by a Gentoo Minister—Some account and death of Mir-habib, a famous Marhatta General—Death of the Gentoo Minister, Djankiram; and some account of Ram-naràin—Death of young Ecram-ed-döula—Which in time causes that of his adoptive father, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan—Infamous conduct of Seradj-ed-döula, in his private hours—His person detested—He for his coup d’ essay, murders two illustrious noblemen brothers— Noble reflections of the author on those iwo murders—Nevazish-mahmed-qhan infinitely regretted—His eulogium—Some account of his second brother, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan—His death— Singular character of an old woman called Dana-annga—Death of Aaly-verdy-qhan—An account of his private life—Singular prediction of his, with regard to the English.
WE have left Aaly-verdy-qhan on the other side of the Ganga. As this was a country full of game, and he was exceedingly fond of hunting, he passed forty or fifty days on that side of the river; and it is there that Seradj-ed-döulah, who could not digest the appointment of his uncle, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, to the viceroyalty of Azim-abad, spoke some words, and committed some actions, that little became his station and his person; and it is at such a conjuncture, likewise, that he gave some presages of the hastiness of his temper, and the improvidence of his conduct. There also he gave evident signs of his influence in the politics of the Government, and of his unbounded sway over his grandfather’s mind; and this was about one of the strangest events which history ever recorded; a conspiracy of a son against his own father! An event which may be ranked amongst those that serve to awaken the attention of mankind, and to put the most confident upon their own guard against wickedness and malevolence. But it must be remembered first, how that pattern of mankind, the illustrious Mir-mahmed-aaly, the learned, (whose learning and merit may God continue for a length of time!)\(29\) had crossed over from P8rania to Mongher, to make a visit to Aaly-verdy-qhan. As he had some connections with Séif-qhan, the hereditary Governor of P8rania, a province which is situated just over against Mongher, and on the other side of the Ganga, he had re-crossed over to renew his acquaintance with that noble man, as well as with his eldest son, a young lord whose name was Faqhr-eddin-hossëin-qhan, but who went by the name of the Navvab-bahadyr, or valiant Navvab. On his departing from thence after his visit, this young lord gave him a petition, that is, a letter for Aaly-verdy-qhan, which enclosed a letter to himself; nor did the illustrious Séyd ever so much as dream of the contents; for he promised to put the letter in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s own hands at some disengaged moment, and to support the contents with all his influence; and as he was naturally of an unsuspicious temper, he carried it to that Prince, and on the very first opportunity, put it into his hands. The Viceroy having perused the contents, turned towards the Lord Séyd, and uttered these words: Well, my Lord Séyd, I shall do whatever you desire, and as you shall bid me. As the Lord Séyd knew nothing at all of the contents, he expressed some surprise at these words, and could not help answering, that he was not privy to the contents of the petition. Upon this the Viceroy put in his hands both the petition and its inclosure, that is, the letter directed to himself. On perusal of both, the poor man was struck dumb with the Stange conspiarcy of a son against his father. contents, which proved to be no less than a proposal from that denatured son, to seize the government of the country, make his own father a prisoner, and send him down to M8rsh8d-abad; for all which performances he requested only a small military force from the Viceroy. It was on discussing this unnatural affair that Seradj-ed-döula gave specimens of his turn of mind, and proofs of his boundless influence over the Viceroy’s mind. It was on the following occasion: Amongst those that accompanied the Lord Séyd, was a simple, very plain man, called Aga-Azimái, who had once served Séif-qhan, hereditary Governor of P8raniah, as his Paymaster-General, in which office he had contracted an intimacy with some officers, and amongst others with Serdar-qhan, that Afghan Commander, who was in the same service, and had lately cut so capital a figure at the sack of Azim-abad. This simple man was now taken to task by Seraj-ed-döula, under pretence that he had been all along in close correspondence with the Afghan, had been deeply concerned in the revolution at Azim-abad, and actually was possessed of a hoard, acquired in the plunder of that city by the late Commander, but intrusted to his care and secrecy. The only proofs he adduced of so perilous a charge, was that in the endless plunder and continual defilements to which that ill-fated city had been a prey for full two months, Serdar-qhan, who then chanced to remember his acquaintance, and to retain some sense of the many favours he had once received at his hands, now thought proper to pay a regard to some families and some houses, recommended to him by Aga-Azimái. This intercession became his crime; and Seradj-ed-döula having now taken mighty exceptions against this particular circumstance, and even instilled his own suspicions and ideas on his grandfather’s mind, Aga-Azimái was accused, as being one of the conspirators, and as concealing the sum of eight lacs, deposited in his hands by Serdar-qhan, out of the plunder of Azim-abad. Such an accusation found credit; and matters were likely to take a very bad turn with the poor man, had not the Lord Séyd taken him under his safeguard, and obtained his liberty from the Viceroy. The man on being released, quitted that perilous spot, and repaired to Azim-abad, where Séyd-ahmed-qhan, the Deputy-Governor, gave him service. This giving service to the man, was not relished at the Court, then at Mongher; and possibly, is it from so small a subject, that some dissensions soon commenced in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, that gave rise to mighty events.
We have said that the Viceroy had appointed Séyd-ahmed-qhan, his second nephew and son-in-law, to the government of the city and province of Azim-abad; an office which had been promised him at the very beginning of the Afghan War, and with which he seemed to be fully invested, under the modest appellation of Deputy-Governor. One of the first actions of the new Governor’s was his sending for a number of persons of distinction, now out of his province, and attaching them to his service by suitable pensions. These were the flower of the nobility. They had all been in the murdered Viceroy’s service, and were only dispersed by his death. Amongst these was Mehdi-nessar-qhan, maternal uncle to the poor man; he had sought an asylum in the fortress of Rhotas. Another was Naky-aaly-qhan, younger Dissension in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family. brother to the poor man. Next came Aareb-aaly-qhan, Qhadem-hassen-qhan, and several others. This liberality was not relished by Aaly-verdy-qhan’s consort, who observed, “that as the province of Azim-abad was so situated, as to be the main gate that afforded an entrance into Bengal, to which country no army could penetrate without its Governor’s concurrence, it was improper to leave so important a post in the hands of a person which she styled a stranger; that her eldest son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, being a man of a weak conduct, and of weaker intellects, it became evident that on her husband’s demise, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, although her son-in-law likewise, would become a sworn enemy to her other daughters, and of course to her two grand children, Seradj-ed-döula, and his younger brother Ecram-ed-döula. After such a chain of reasoning she concluded that so important a Government ought to be lodged in such hands as she might trust entirely.” The Princess having said so much, lowered her tone of voice, and with an air of concern and affliction, “she mentioned the high salaries and expensive pensions which her nephew had been bestowing upon the principal nobility of the province; and she glossed over them as upon so many misdemeanours, which took their rise in deep schemes, and concealed remote views and high-flown designs.” Such a speech from a Princess, that had given her husband the highest opinion of her wisdom, could not but make a deep impression on his mind; but the Princess, as if doubting her own influence in instilling her own jealousies in her husband’s mind, took care to employ another engine, still more powerful. She taught Seradj-ed-döula to mutter publicly, “that if the Viceroyalty of Azim-abad was bestowed on Séyd-ahmed-qhan, he (Seradj-ed-döula) would not survive the affront, but would make away with himself. He used to say that the Bahar was his father’s property. That it came to him by hereditary right, as a paternal estate, and ought not to be given away to others.” Words to that effect, from a youth who had now become the old man’s whole delight, and his very soul, could not fail to sink deep in his mind, on the first moment of their being reported to him. His whole soul centred in that young man; and to give him the least uneasiness, was a thought which he could not bear. On the other hand, he was accustomed to pay the highest deference to his consort’s advice, and the tenderest regard to her wishes; and he also confessed, that after all, her opinion tended to the completion of a scheme which he had set up with her concurrence, namely, that of declaring Seradj-ed-döula heir to his estate, and his successor in all his dominions. No wonder then, if overcome now by the intreaties of a beloved consort, and unable to withstand Seradj-ed-döula’s displeasure, he altered his mind with respect to his other grandson and nephew, and totally declined to fulfil his promise to him. The latter, who thought himself shockingly wronged by such a proceeding, and moreover exposed to ridicule, was stung to the quick at such an unexpected reverse; and giving way to the emotions of his resentment, he abstained from going to Court, and lastly resolved to quit Bengal, and to repair to Shah-djehan-abad, where he intended to seek his fortune at the Imperial Court. The old Prince, wounded by his nephew’s discontent and secession, attempted several times by notes in his own hand, and also by letters, to apologise for his conduct, and to sooth his nephew’s mind; but all was to no purpose. Matters went so far, that the nephew proved inexorable; and in one of his answers he protested, that he was bound by a solemn oath to quit Bengal, and to go to the Imperial Court, should the matter fail of taking the turn he wished. This was answered by a note in the hand of Aaly-verdy-qhan himself. It contained these two short sentences: To atone for such an oath, is easy; and to quit a loving uncle, imprudent. After dispatching the note, he went to pay him a visit, where he addressed him in these words: “Son, it is out of love to you that I stoop to these entreaties, and possibly to these importunities; else, you know yourself, that my custom is to speak once to a man, and to inform him of my mind; after which I leave him to his ownself, never to speak to him again. If this resolution of yours arises from some other matter of discontent, speak out, I am here to afford you redress, and to oblige you to the utmost extent of your wishes; and if you do not choose to speak yourself, here is Hekim-begh, and some other gentlemen, your friends; make use of their channel, and cease to torment yourself and me any more on that head.” The visit being over, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan made use of the channel pointed out to him, to ask the confirmation of some revenues he had acquired in his new Government; and his request having been complied with, this disagreeable affair was immediately brought to an end. But as the rainy season was setting in, the Viceroy resolved to spend it at Azim-abad, in order to arrange some matters of importance, and to settle every part of a province, which required his presence; he also sent orders to M8rsh8d-abad for bringing Seradj-ed-döulah’s consort to Azim-abad under the charge of Radja Djankiram, whom he really intended to appoint Deputy-Governor of the province. Djankiram being arrived with his charge, a public day was appointed, in which a rich Qhylaat was put on Seradj-ed-döula’s shoulders, in token of investiture for the Government of Azim-abad, and another of inferior value, on Djankiram, as his deputy, who was besides complimented with a fringed Paleki, and a kettle-drum. And to regain Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s good will to this arrangement, as well as to soften his mind, Djankiram received orders to wait upon him, and to ask his consent in a respectful manner. Sáyd-ahmed-qhan graciously granted it, although highly humbled by a transaction that exposed his character; and he gave him a Biry\(30\) of Paan, according to the custom of India, in token of that consent; his intention being to avoid everything that might disoblige his uncle; and it is remarkable that Djankiram went by the Viceroy’s order, in company with Sadr-el-hac-qhan\(31\), to give more weight to his submission. Matters being now settled to his mind, Aaly-verdy-qhan quitted Azim-abad at the end of the rains, and taking with him both Sáyd-ahmed-qhan and Seraj-ed-döulah, he displayed his victorious standards and took the road of Bengal.
Before the end of his journey, he dispatched an order to his deputy at M8rsh8d-abad for his getting Ata-olla-qhan conveyed out of Bengal without delay, and without fail; for he had this longwhile harboured strong suspicions against this last nobleman, and they had been strengthened more than once, but never so much ascertained, as when his envoy and letters were of late intercepted, as we have already mentioned. Although such a traitorous conduct deserved punition, and might have excited any other Prince’s resentment, he chose to leave the man to the remorses of his own conscience; and he ordered that he should be dismissed with his consort, family, riches, movables and furniture; strictly recommending that no injury should be offered him on any account whatsover; but commanding at the same time, that the order for his dismission should be obeyed so expeditiously, as that on the arrival of the victorious standards at M8rsh8d-abad, no trace of his presence might be left in that city. The Deputy-Governor having received those orders, sent them with the letter to Ata-ollah-qhan; the latter, who had to this moment conserved preciously the bond by which that impostor, Mir-aaly-ashgar-cobra had promised him the dominion of Bengal, now thought it full time to tear his heart from it; and having submitted to his fate, he departed with his family, his Amazing fortune of Ata-ollah-qhan. riches, his dependants, and whatever belonged to him. His ostensible fortune, by common report, amounted to sixty lacks of rupees, and seventy elephants; but he was known to be possessed, besides, of a quantity of gems, precious stuffs, and gold;\(32\) and to have carried away the very furniture of his house. Crossing the Ganga, he took up his quarters at Malda, in the house of Mirza-zya-ollah, and spent some days in preparing everything for his intended journey.
Whilst he was crossing over, Aaly-verdy-qhan was taking up his quarters at Radjemahal, called Acbar-nugur, where having celebrated the holy days of the feast of the sacrifice, he gave up his journey over land, and embarked on a fleet of boats; with which in a few days, he landed at Bagvangolah, where he was received by his Deputy, and also by Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, and some other distinguished persons amongst the nobility and principal citizens of M8rsh8d-abad. After having reposed himself a little, he mounted a mountain-like elephant, and with a pomp which became his victorious expedition, and his intrepid troops, he made a triumphant entry in the city, and arrived at his palace; where he was no sooner landed, than not satisfied with the many charitable actions he had already performed in thanksgiving for his successful expedition, he ordered new charities to be distributed to the Séyds, to the faithful, and to the needy and distressed of all sorts; he inclined himself again profoundly in the presence of the Divine distributor of graces, and acknowledged that the victory bestowed upon him had something extraordinary, and such as strongly argued a particular interposition from above.
As he was a lover of learning and merit, he had taken care, on quitting Azim-abad, to invite to his Court several persons distinguished for their birth, rank, learning or talents, requesting them to follow his fortune, and to live in his Capital. One of these was “the Prince of the teachers, the pattern of the jurisconsultes, the model of the virtuous and of the illustrious, the detector of the intricacies of questions, and the solver of the knots of difficulties, the Prince of learned ones, His Highness my Lord Mir-mahmed-aaly, (the refreshing stream of whose learning, may God Almighty keep running for a long series of years!) Another was the glorious and illustrious Qhan, the eye of mankind, and the ball of that eye, Záir-hussëin-qhan, son to the learned Doctor, Moluvy-mohammed-nassyr, (upon whom may God’s mercy repose for ever!). The third was the illustrious and beneficent Qhan, Taky-c8ly-qhan, now deceased, son to Hadji-abdollah, surnamed the Writer or Historian, who had been Divan of the province of Burhanp8r, in the times of the Emperor Aoreng-zib-aalemghir (the Conqueror). The fourth was the illustrious and high-born Qhan, the beneficent, the munificent, the excellent and learned, the Lord of one way of seeing (that is, the sincere) Aaly-hibrahim-qhan, the valiant, son to Doctor Mahmed-nassyr, cousin-german to the late Záir-hussëin-qhan. The fifth was Hadji-mahmed-qhan.” All these eminent personages accompanied Aaly-verdy-qhan to M8rsh8d-abad, where they were all welcomed with large pensions.\(33\)
It was about this time, and when that Prince was setting out, that I, the poor man, arrived from Shah-djehan-abad, to see my glorious mother, as well as my brothers, relations, friends and acquaintances; all beloved persons, which I had given up for lost, on hearing of the enormities of which Shimshir-qhan and his people were every day guilty. In passing by Lucnow, I paid my respects to my glorious uncle, of whom I asked the reason of his having parted with Aaly-verdy-qhan, his cousin, and of his being come so far. He answered, “that this breach had been occasioned by his consort (Abdol-aaly-qhan’s), and that matters were now past remedy; that he had lost his possessions, and also his peace of mind; and that being now deprived of his country and fortune, as well as a prey to the pains of mind and body, he was going to Shah-djehan-abad, in a state of despair; he added, that if he happened to be still alive, it was by the more strength ot his destiny.”
| “A bad woman in a good man’s house |
| Becomes his hell, even in this world; |
| Bawere of a bad inmate, beware! |
| O! God preserve us from such a hell.” |
And it is on the same account, as well as on account of Abdol-aaly-qhan’s dismission, that there passed such a sharp dialogue between my mother and Aaly-verdy-qhan; a dialogue which no one would have ventured upon, and which no one would choose to repeat. To put up with such expressions as were then heard by that Prince, is what the nature of an Angel would have overlooked, but which was more than the patience of a man could bear. This difference likewise broke an alliance, which Sáyd-ahmed-qhan had desired between himself and Séyd-aaly-qhan, younger brother to the poor man, to whom he intended to marry his own daughter, a Princess which Aaly-verdy-qhan has since bestowed on another, whom he has thought proper to honour with his alliance. Although it must be acknowledged, that this Prince, as well as his three sons-in-law, had not their equals in forgiving the misdemeanours of relations, and in winking at the improper conduct of kinsmen; a condescendence extremely uncommon, and of which we see so few instances, even amongst private men. May God Almighty’s goodness reward them for it, by extending over them for ever, the wings of mercy and forgiveness!
On my arrival at Azim-abad, I found that Mehdi-nessar-qhan, my uncle, and Naki-aaly-qhan, my brother, with all my relations, kinsmen, and friends, had quitted that city to follow Sáyd-ahmed-qhan. These were Gholam-reza-qhan, son to Moortezevi-qhan; Aga-azimái, whom we have already mentioned; and Melec-mahmed-qhan, together with Qhadum-hossëin-qhan, Areb-aaly-qhan, Mir-fazyl-aaly, with all his relations; and Mir-assed-aaly, and the Prince of the learned of Azim-abad, Mollah-gholam-yahya, Mir-vahed, and the mufti Zia-ollah, the Moluvi or Doctor Laal-mahmed, and the late Mir-abdol-hadi. All these were the cream and flower of that city; so that finding it hard to live at a distance, from such dear persons, and irksome, to remain in a city which had been evacuated by all my friends, I followed my uncle and two brothers, and without any assurance that Sáyd-ahmed-qhan would admit me amongst his friends, I arrived at Mongher, where I landed, and where I was informed that the Governor of Bahar was ashore, and actually busy in performing the rites of the day of the sacrifice, and in eating, as it is customary, some of the roast meat actually upon the spit, and roasting in his presence. As this was a holy day, and a solemnity consecrated to visits, and to demonstrations of respect, and the Prince happened to be almost alone; I thought that these circumstances not only rendered the occasion favourable to present myself before him, but likewise that they turned it into a duty incumbent upon me. Landing, therefore, from my boats with my youngest brother, Séyd-aaly-qhan, I went up, and making a bow at a distance, I advanced and congratulated him upon the holy day, presenting my Nuzur at the same time. He had the goodness to take it up with demonstrations of regard, seemed overjoyed to see me, made me sit down, and after having invited me to his repast, he requested my remaining with him henceforward as his friend, whether in voyage or in town. Immediately after, he assigned, both to me and to my brother, a pension adequate to our expenses, and having ordered the paper to be brought up directly, he signed it in our presence; so that soon a mutual attachment took rise between that nobleman and me, (the most inconsiderable of mankind) of which mention shall be made in a proper time and place. Our journey being at an end, we arrived at Bagvangolah, where the Governor, who could not digest his having been refused the Government of Azim-abad, and who harboured still in his heart much discontent against his elder brother, as well as against his uncle, at once resolved to pass the season there, and he gave his orders accordingly. Nevertheless, he was softened by his uncle’s letters, and by the intreaties of his elder brother, who came to see him on purpose, and requested his coming to live at M8rsh8d-abad; and to this he consented at last. After tarrying full two months there, he came to the city, and landed in his own palace, which is seated on the Bagraty, over against that of Djagat-seat’s, and from whence he ordered that the house of Mir-habib should be fitted up for us; that is, myself, the poor man, Mehdy-nessar-qhan, my uncle, and Naky-aaly-qhan, my brother.
We have said that Aaly-verdy-qhan, after his victory over the Afghans, was returning to M8rsh8d-abad; this opportunity was seized by Séif-qhan, hereditary Governor of P8rania, who conceiving that he had acquired some merit with the Viceroy, not only by sending presents to him on his passage on the other side of the Ganga, but also by assisting with a detachment of useful troops, thought he had a right now to invite him over to his own side of the river, where he had made magnificent preparatives. It must be observed, that as he had already invited and received successively, both Hadji-ahmed, brother to the Viceroy, and Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, his son-in-law, on their occasionally passing up and down the river; and had engaged them to accept entertainments at Carangolah, which belongs to the dominions of P8rania; he concluded that Aaly-verdy-qhan himself would come over, and accept the entertainment he had prepared for him at the above place. He had set up a number of magnificent tents, and prepared a quantity of rich and curious presents; but these preparatives were not taken notice of by the Viceroy, who knew that the Fodjdar had always paid visits, both to Djaafer-qhan, and to Shudjah-qhan, his two predecessors in the viceroyalty of Bengal, to both which he thought himself vastly superior, either in military talents or in extent of dominions. The truth is, that he was not only much superior to them, but also equal, if not superior, to any potentate of his time, either in reputation, or in real power. He therefore rejected Séif-qhan’s invitations and offers; he even found so much fault with the request, that he was heard to say to his intimates, “That although Séif-qhan was a Lord of the rank of seven thousand horse, and a son of Emir-qhan, the famous Viceroy of Cab8l, yet, after all, he would not be deemed anything higher or better than a Fodjdar of P8rania; and since he used once a year, to comply so far with the rules of decency, as to come down to M8rsh8d-abad to see Djaafer-qhan and Shudjah-qhan, and Ser-effraz-qhan, why then does he not come to see me likewise? Possibly the gentleman thinks such a condescendence beneath his rank and dignity.” Séif-qhan, who was not informed of these sentiments, and who expected that the Viceroy would, like his brother and nephew, cross over, and accept his presents, sent him an invitation whilst he was passing by Taliagary. But the invitation, although noticed and even respectful, was rejected, and the message was answered in these very words: “If to see me is the whole matter, why does he not come to M8rs8d-abad, as he always took care to do with the former Nazems of Bengal.” Séif-qhan on hearing this answer, repented of his having come so far, and he returned to P8rania, his capital; where in a little time he fell sick, and Death of Séif-khan. his sickness turning to a looseness and flux, he departed this world at the beginning of the year one thousand one hundred and sixty-two. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Faqhr-eddin-hossëin-qhan, who had no talents for government, and no capacity for such a charge; and he proved as bad a brother, as he had been a bad son. This man not only took possession of the Government, but also seized on the family estate which amounted to immense sums that had been accumulating these forty years past, and consisted of ready money, jewels of an inestimable value, gems, and precious costly stuffs. All this he took to himself, to the exclusion of his younger brothers; and not content with that, he snatched out of their hands even what they were already in possession of, leaving them only a small matter, or what they had been able to conceal. The Viceroy, who was soon informed of all this, and who knew of no office in Bengal adequate to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s rank and pretensions, thought of this province, and he obtained the patent of it from the Court. In a few months he put it in his hands, together with the rich Qhylaat, and the other insignia that had come on purpose from the capital; and to render the ceremony more pompous, he added from his own an elephant, a serpich and Djica with a calghi, a chaplet of pearls, and a variety of other jewels. The fodjdary of Hoogly becoming vacant by this appointment, he made a present of it to Seradj-ed-döulah, appointing Mirza-Piaren, a half-brother of his, whose real name was Mahmed-yar-qhan, to reside in that province, as Deputy of the young Prince’s. Some days after the Governor of P8rania having sent forward a man of distinction, called Qhadem-hossëin-qhan, to take possession of his new Government, he followed himself in a little time after, and this was at the end of the year. He was accompanied by me, the poor man, and by some other persons attached to him, all which were at the head of two or three thousand horse and three or four thousand men. Faqhr-eddin-hossëin-qhan finding that he had now no other party left than that of apprehending the hem of the Viceroy’s garment, wrote him a respectful letter, where he proferred his acquiescence and submission to his pleasure. The latter now become covetous, wrote him in answer, “That he was his friend; and that he had better come over to M8rsh8d-abad where he wished to see him, and where he might rest assured that a regard would be paid to his utmost wishes, as his intention was to gratify him in everything.” Such a letter, which ought to have put him upon his guard, on the contrary inspired him with confidence; and like one who by his unworthy treatment of his brother had drawn upon himself the Divine vengeance, he had the thoughtlessness to obey the order, and to prepare everything for his journey to M8rsh8d-abad. Else, with the troops and equipages, and all the means of travelling and defence which he had ready under his hand, he might have crossed the Cosséy. There being no Zemindar in the neighbouring country daring enough to oppose his journey, and even supposing that he should have met with opposition, he might easily have got rid of it, by affording a small contribution and then continuing his voyage. But the man pursued by the Divine vengeance for the wrongs he had heaped upon his brothers, and as the report goes, upon even his very father, proved so senseless as to set out for M8rsh8d-abad with a baggage of an immense value; but escorted by a body of troops which he had found ready at his hands, and which needed only a Commander. In coming down he met Sáyd-ahmed-qhan by the way. The latter who always knew how to behave properly, sent his own son, Shàocat-djung, with two or three officers of his army, such as Mehdi-nessar-qhan and my humble self, to compliment him on his journey, and to condole on his father’s death; and it was observed that the young man acquitted himself of his commission with a propriety of behaviour and expression that surprised every one. The next day Faqhr-eddin came to pay his respects to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, who received him with distinction, and made him a variety of presents. The third day the new Governor continued his journey, and by the way he returned the visit; after which Faqhr-eddin taking his leave, went on towards M8rsh8d-abad, while the other continued his journey to P8raniah, where we shall leave him for a while as we intend to speak hereafter both of his person and administration; our business now being with his thoughtless predecessor, who having left his troops upon the Maha-nudda over against Minc8t, crossed the Ganga, and repaired to M8rsh8d-abad, where the Viceroy sent some persons of distinction to welcome him at his landing; and on his coming to pay his respects, he ordered a quilted Carpet or Suzeni to be spread for him, where he got him seated, and where he complimented him with Paan, and Atur or Essence of Roses, as well as Rose-water; and, in short, with all the honorific demonstrations of regard customary in India; after which he appointed a place for his residence, or in other words, for his confinement.
But whilst he was making this acquisition, he was losing his Prime Minister, the Ráy-Ráyán-Chéin-Ráy, who now departed this life. He was succeeded by his Deputy, Bir8-dut, who was ordered to execute the duties of that high office, but without being permitted to assume the title. This Chéin-Ráy was a curious sort of a man, but so able in his business, and with all so loyal, that he made no account of anything, when it interfered with his master’s interest. In a little time he had acquired so far his approbation, and had gained so much over his mind, that the persons of the greatest distinction at his Court, without excepting the Viceroy’s two sons-in-law, were obliged to make interest with him, wherever they had a point to carry. So that sometimes they found it expedient to pay him the greatest deference and regard; and how high was his credit and influence, may be conjectured by this single anecdote: I was once in a closet with the Viceroy, where he was conversing privately with his nephews and cousins, and where Sáyd-ahmed-qhan having mentioned the present Minister, was comparing him to his predecessor in that high office, and to his own private Minister. “No, my son,” replied the Viceroy, “those you mean were my servants; whereas the other was no less than my master.” But after having complimented our readers with this little piece of private history, let us return to the thread of public affairs, and especially to the Marhattahs, and to Djano-dji, their Prince and General.
This Djano-dji, after the defeat of the Afghans by the Viceroy, had been obliged to quit the neighbourhood of Azim-abad, and with a loss of forces and character, to endeavour to fall upon M8rsh8d-abad itself, in the Viceroy’s absence. But having received by the way the news of his mother’s decease, he abandoned his resolution, and leaving Mir-habib with an army of Afghans and Marhattahs, with which he was to find his way towards Midnip8r, and to establish himself there, he quitted the field, and with only an escort, he repaired to Náigp8r; from whence Rhago-dji, his father, sent his younger son, Bimba-dji, with a strong body of Marhattah horse to join Mir-habib. Meanwhile the Viceroy, as we have already said, having performed his vows a secnd time, and returned thanks to the Author of all benefits for so signal a success, was continuing his journey to M8rsh8d-abad, in which city he remained to repose himself of the fatigues of his expedition, and to afford some release to the wearied inhabitants of his dominions; who in return never failed to be profuse in expressions of gratitude for the attention and benignity of his Government. And now the country commenced enjoying some tranquillity; nor was anything to be feared, but from the restlessness of Mir-habib’s, and the ravages of his Marhattahs. The Viceroy, who had taken upon himself the task of ridding his country of such ravagers, took early occasion to display his victorious standards, resolved to make an end of those freebooters. It was in the first days of the second Reby in the year 1162. With that view he encamped some days at Catwa to assemble his troops. He had beforehand sent Bahadyr-aaly-qhan, Commander of his light artillery to Bardevan, with a body of eight thousand horse and foot, and an order to remain encamped there, to the end that should Mir-habib attempt, according to his custom, to ruin and ravage a country he could not conquer, he might find his passage barred up by a respectable force. In a little time the troops being assembled, formed a numerous army, and marched to Bardevan. On his drawing near, Bahadyr-aaly-qhan drew up his troops, and marched back a little to join him, and to pay him his respects; and after a few days he was ordered to proceed with his detachment towards Midnip8r; but his troops, gunners, musqueteers and horsemen, after marching a little way, stopped short, and refused to move forward, unless they were paid their arrears; and the foremost of the mutineers was his own Brigade. The Viceroy to appease their clamours, sent two of the Lords of his Court, Mirza-hekimbeg, and Gholam-aaly-qhan; and these noblemen did everything in their power to bring those people to a sense of their duty; but all to no purpose. The next day the Viceroy came up, and immediately repaired to that Commander’s quarters, with intention to extinguish the fire of sedition by pouring upon the flames the water of persuasion and promises; and he concluded that by paying down part of their demands, and giving them for the balances assignations upon his own Deputy at the city, the money might be provided for before they should have time to dispatch their agent to receive it. But such proposals availed nothing; and they continued obstinate in their demand of being paid the whole immediately. It was observed that one Mir-afzyl-aaly, an officer of cavalry in Bahadyr-aaly-qhan’s Brigade, was so far from endeavouring to put out the flames, that he did everything to afford them fresh fuel. The Viceroy incensed at so much insolence, conceived that, rather than to put up with such a flagitious behaviour, it would be better to put his trust in God Almighty, the Succourer of the afflicted; and with one word he broke that whole detachment, resolved to have nothing to do with such soldiers; after which he advanced to the enemy.
This little incident happened to prove the ruin of that thoughtless man, the discarded Fodjdar of P8rania. On receiving an exaggerated account of this affair, he thoughtlessly imagined that all was over with the Viceroy, whose power was at an end; and immediately he conceived the design of availing himself of the opportunity to effect his escape. Listenting to some favourites as light-headed as himself, he quitted the city without taking leave; and without giving notice of his design, he crossed the Ganga, and repaired to his troops, which he had left encamped on the Maha-nedda; and there putting himself at their head, he marched towards P8raniah; but Sáyd-ahmed-qhan coming to hear of this unexpected proceeding, soon quitted that city; and putting himself at the head of his troops he advanced to oppose him, and marched two or three stages with that view. On this intelligence Faqhr-eddin felt his courage damped; that flash of resolution vanished in a moment, and it was succeeded by as much trepidation. Coming at once to his senses, he sent a respectful letter to Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, to deprecate his resentment, and to request his leave to pass by his army in order to depart the country. He was answered, “That to grant such a permission was not in his power, as it depended on the Viceroy, his uncle; but that, in his opinion, it would be better for him to return to the place from which he had lately come.” That senseless faint-hearted man on this single intimation, marched back, and stopped at Malda, where we shall leave him at present, to return to Aaly-verdy-qhan.
As soon as he had broke that whole detachment of mutineers, he put his trust in the Divine assistance; and continuing his march without being intimidated by so great a diminution of his force, as left him without a single piece of cannon, he arrived at Midnip8r. This arrival gave umbrage to Mir-habib, who had cantoned himself there. Little pleased with such a neighbourhood, he set his barracks on fire, saw the whole consumed, and then retreated with his army. The Viceroy on seeing this, passed the river Cosséy without entering Midnip8r, and he encamped on the other side, after sending spies everywhere to take information. In a little time intelligence was brought that the Marhattahs were encamped in a woody tract of ground, on the other side of Midnip8r; upon which he immediately ordered Mir-cazem-qhan and Dost-mahmed-qhan with some other Commanders to pursue the enemy, and to draw some blood from their veins. These marched the whole night, and arriving before day-break, they fell upon the Marhattahs, sabre in hand; and an engagement ensued, in which valorous actions were performed on both sides, until at last the Marhattahs gave way, and retired towards Catec with much loss and shame, always flying and always followed by the Viceroy, who tired of so hot a pursuit stopped at Balisser-bender, and encamped in that spot. There he learned that Mir-habib and Mana-dji with their Marhattahs and Afghans, not thinking themselves a match for the Bengal army, had fled farther, retiring into the woody mountainous tracts of the Oressa. The Viceroy continuing to advance, went beyond the river that goes by Badrac and Hadjip8r, where he encamped at a place called Bara, which is at about eighteen cosses distance from the city of Catec. There he received letters and deputies from Séyd-n8r, and Serendaz-qhan, and from the Gentoo Deshemdas, three officers of Infantry who commanded the garrison of Bara-bhati, a fortress close to that city. The purport was “That they were his humble servants, ready to execute any orders he would send them; and that whenever his victorious ensigns should emit their glorious beams over the walls of that fortress, the gates of it would be immediately set open; and his humble servants would make haste to kiss the sublime threshold of his tent, as they carried on their hands, and on their eyes, the trappings of fidelity and submission.” The Viceroy intent on pursuing Mir-habib did not pay much attention to such an overture. He was following him incessantly; and he arrived at last in an uninhabited plain of difficult broken ground, where the baggage having not been able to keep pace with the troops, victuals and provisions became scarce and dear. The country was so woody, and the trees so close and so tall, that the vanguard, which had marched some cosses before, was lost, and no intelligence could be had of it for three days together; nor, on the other hand, could the troops that composed it, learn themselves where their main might be. The Viceroy concerned at such an incertitude, ordered all the kettle-drums and trumpets to go out of camp at some distance, and to make as much noise as they could. The expedient succeeded; and the troops that had been thought lost, being guided by the sound, rejoined their main; so that this arrival was celebrated at camp by the whole army, as a festival. I am not unaware that this entrance of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s in the woods, and his losing his vanguard there, as well as his making use of so strange an expedient to extricate his troops, looks pretty singular and fabulous; but as it is pretty well attested, and I hold this fact from numbers of persons that were in that army, I have not thought myself at liberty to pass it over.
It being certain now that no footsteps could be traced of either Mir-habib’s Afghans or of Mana-dij’s Marhattahs, the army marched back; and the Viceroy leaving a body of troops to guard the valley that gives entrance into the woods, put himself at the head of the rest, which did not amount to more than two thousand horse, and marched back with intention to surprise the city of Catec, as well as the fortress of Bara-bhaty. He marched the whole night; and the following day at about noon he crossed the Maha-nedda, which flows by that place, and suddenly displayed the standards of surprise and terror before its walls. But as he had marched by this time full sixteen hours, it happened that out of two thousand horse with which he had set out, no more than three hundred persons could be brought together, when the walls were discovered; and these were so overcome with weariness and fatigue, that so far from being able to fight, not one of them could so much as move a limb; and it must be confessed that this was a strange conduct indeed, and an egregious imprudence in a General so experienced and so wise. For had the garrison at that moment sent out a detachment to fall upon those men half dead with fatigue, he would have infallibly lost in that single day the fruit of so many years’ toil, and of so many victories and dangers; his people would have been knocked down, and himself would have shared their fate, and forfeited his character for ever. But such was his good fortune, and such the prevalence of his destiny, that the garrison, although very numerous, had lost their wits; and thinking they were surrounded by a mighty army, they proposed to surrender. By this time the sun being in its meridian blazed with such intolerable fury, that people dropped down on all sides, not one tent being arrived; so that the plain became as burning as that of the Day of Judgment. In the afternoon two principal officers of the garrison, to wit, Séyd-n8r and Derhem-dass, came out of the gates, paid their respects, were dismissed with honour, and then came back with promises to bring Sér-endaz-qhan the next morning at day-break, by which time they were to leave their gates open, and to surrender the fortress. But as the words of the two Deputies were not altogether to be trusted, he gave order to his guards to put them to the sword, should they fail to fulfil their promise; and he appointed Seradj-ed-döula to see the order punctually executed. Accordingly he took his post behind a small tent that was just arrived for his grandfather; and with a number of guards he waited the dawn of that day, which was to be the last of those two unfortunate men. At day-break the two officers made him a profound bow; and then going in, they paid their respects to the Viceroy, who entertained them with kindness. A moment after, appeared Ser-endaz-qhan himself\(34\) with some more officers of the garrison, and he alighted from his horse; but hardly had he alighted, than Seradj-ed-döula gave the signal to fall upon him. The man seeing that his life was aimed at on all sides, resolved to sell it as dear as possible; and without losing his presence of mind, he drew his sabre, and fought manfully, all the while endeavouring to make his way to the Viceroy himself. Fate opposed his resolution; and the man having lost a hand, was assaulted by numbers at a time, and fell headlong. Whilst this was transacting without, the two officers within were struck with surprise and horror; but they were secured by the by-standers, and delivered over to the custody of Kishver-qhan, a merciless, relentless Afghan, who spared them no hardships, and took care to turn his tent into a loathsome prison. The garrison hearing how their officers had been used, refused to comply with the agreement; and shutting up their gates, they put themselves upon their defence. The Viceroy who did not think it prudent to lose his time at the foot of a dead wall, appointed a number of officers to besiege the place; and he marched up to Catec, the Capital of the province. These were Mir-djaafer-qhan, and Fakyr-allah-beg-qhan, and Radja D8l8bram, with some others who had just arrived from pursuing the enemy. The siege lasted fifteen days, at the end of which, the besiegers, thinking they could resist no more, supplicated Mir-djaafer-qhan and Radja The fortress surrenders. D8l8bram to mediate some terms for them; and these having obtained that no injury should be done to them either in their persons or fortunes, the gates were opened, and the besieged went in a body to the quarters of those two officers. The Viceroy who had the curiosity to visit the fortress, marched in with his guards; nor will the reader be displeased with a short description of either that place or the city.
The ground wherein that fortress and the City of Catec are seated, is an island surrounded by the waters of the Maha-nedda, and those of the Cata-djo8ri. The parts that are washed by the two rivers, are surrounded by a strong wall built with squared stone, serving as a dyke or mound against their inundations. For those rivers which are fordable for one-half of the year, swell so much in the rains that the Maha-nedda becomes a mighty stream Delightful situation of Catec. of about two cosses (or five miles in breadth), and the Cata-djo8ri of half as much. But the fortress of Bara-bhati is seated on the Maha-nedda, and about three cosses in circuit. It is built of stone, brick and mortar, with a great deal of art; and a broad ditch faced with stone, surrounds the whole. But the City of Catec itself stretches on the lesser river at about two cosses from the citadel. The Governor’s palace and the houses of the nobility and principal citizens (which in general affect the water side, and are mostly seated on the said mound) rising by five and ten yards above the mound, cut a handsome appearance; and they overlook on both sides of the water a fine extensive plain that stretches from four to five cosses around. The horizon is bounded by a forest of beautiful, lofty trees, that extend as far as the eye can reach, and line the bottom and sides of a chain of high mountains that seem to reach the very sky; and this beautiful prospect with its triple circle of beauties, is enjoyed by the inhabitants the whole year round. As that spot of fortunate ground is surrounded on every side by the waters of two rivers, such a situation renders it very strong; and should any enemy attempt to besiege the place by coming to an understanding with the neighbouring Zemindars, and the siege should chance to be protracted until the beginning of the rainy season, he would find it difficult to subsist, and his convoys would be greatly at a loss how to approach his camp. But independently of that, the country round this island, and indeed throughout the whole Oressa, is very difficult ground, especially about the rainy season, when it becomes so very intersected by frequent rivers, and endless deep torrents, that an enemy would find it impossible to reach the end of his journey. The Viceroy who was abundantly sensible of the consequence of too long a stay, and thought that so much as he had done was well enough, resolved to quit the country at any rate; and he appointed an officer of Cavalry called Sheh-abdol-subhan, a plain, simple unqualified man, to fill the office of his Deputy in Catec. The reason of such a choice was this: As there was a strong report that the Marhattahs were lurking in the forest, and would sally forth on the first opportunity, as soon as they should see the passage from Bengal put an end to by the rains, no man of character would choose to accept an office, which was untenable; so that the Viceroy determined to return at any rate, invested the very first man that accepted his invitation; whilst the man himself who did not dream of such a sudden promotion, thought it a good luck sent him from Heaven; and doubtless he had an eye to the known verse:
| “Dominion, although even for a short time, has still irresistible charms.” |
Nor is there any other way of accounting for so strange a promotion. The Viceroy having in this manner rid himself of this affair, made haste to depart, it being now the month of Assar; for the rains had already set in by the beginning of the month of Djutt, and that too with so much violence as well as perseverance, that not a day passed without rain. So that the little streams which hitherto had afforded hardly any water, now commenced swelling at such a rate, that to get over any single of them proved a work of much time and much difficulty. In some of these indeed the water did not rise above the armpits; but then it ran with so much violence, that it was impossible to cross over. At every stream, and at every crossing, numbers of men and beasts were constantly lost, as it is expressly mentioned in those memoirs left us by Y8suf-aaly-qhan, son to Gholam-aaly-qhan. He mentions himself his having been in this manner stopped short by the little river of Termahan, which although low, ran with such fury, that for want of boats, they were obliged to cross it upon rafts made of pieces of trees and timber supported underneath by whole skins filled with wind. It is upon such frail machines that both men and tents and merecandise were obliged to pass. But the horses and other animals being obliged to swim over, hundreds of them were lost at a time. He adds that at a little stream, where he had the inspection of the passage, he lost no less than seventeen horses. From this specimen may be guessed what must have been the loss of the whole army, before they could reach the Cassái which runs by Midnip8r; and what they must have suffered in crossing that river, where no more than four boats could be procured, and where the water was deep The Viceroy retires to his capitalthrough an infinity of difficulties. and violent. In short, there would be no end to this narrative; nor would it answer any purpose to mention that infinity of pains which every such little passage did cost infallibly. But the main evil arose from the slipperiness and miriness of the ground, which had rendered the roads so very bad, that had the army tarried a few days more at Catec, it would have been impossible to reach M8rsh8d-abad.
Whilst the Bengal army was making its way to its Capital through so many difficulties, Mir-habib and his Marhattahs were emerging from their lurking places in the forest, and falling upon the Commanding officer at Catec. The latter although far from having forces enough to face a great army, had however courage enough to fight it. No sooner did he hear of the enemy’s approach, which happened to be six or seven days after his master’s departure, than he marched out to fight; not that he was not sensible of the unequality of his force, but he thought his character at stake. He therefore charged vigorously, and behaved with a valour and conduct that did him a deal of honour; until having received six wounds, and lost the use of his arm, he was overpowered, and taken prisoner. This event was announced to the Viceroy whilst he was in Balisser-bender. Such a reverse could not but wound his pride; but as the season did not admit of returning back, the business of revenging his Deputy’s defeat was deferred to the next season. So that he pursued his journey, and after a number of fatiguing marches, he arrived at Catwa, where crossing over upon a bridge of boats that had been prepared beforehand, he on the beginning of Redjeb arrived at Moti-djil, a palace which he had commenced. There he was met by his son-in-law, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, by Hossëin-c8li-qhan, and by number of persons of distinction, which were received with honours and with presents; and it was at Moti-djil, that Bir8-dutt, who had hitherto succeeded to the Prime Minister or Ráy-ráyán, but without assuming the title, now received the investiture of that high office in a rich Qhylaat, which constituted him Comptroller and Superintendent of the Revenue office.
It was here likewise that the fall of Fahr-eddin-hossëin-qhan was determined. His incapacity and cowardice had become now so apparent, that his very friends and troops used to quit him every day, and to take service with Sáyd-ahmed-qhan at P8raniah; whilst himself with his immense baggage, and his riches, immense, was spending at Malda the whole rainy season, as if waiting what was to happen next. The Viceroy who now became fully apprised of his imbecility, sent some trusty persons to bring him over to M8rsh8d-abad, where he assigned him suitable lodgings, and a suitable pension, with guards to watch over his person. So that at one and the same stroke he took possession of that immense heap of money and jewels that had been amassing for half a century together.
We have said that on Háider-aaly-qhan’s brigade being broke, the whole of that detachment had undergone the same fate; so that their Commander retired to M8rsh8d-abad, where he had lost his eye-sight; and this misfortune had confined him to his house. But his broken troops applied to Seradj-ed-döulah, by whose intercession they were re-admitted into the service. The command of the artillery and of the corps attached to it, was bestowed on that young Prince himself; and Sheh-zia-ollah, who had been for years together the friend and favourite of Ata-ollah-qhan, was invested with the Deputyship of that office. About this time Mehdy-nessar-qhan, my uncle, who at the instigation of Seradj-ed-döulah’s mother, had fallen out with Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, of P8raniah, now made his appearance at M8rsh8d-abad, accompanied by Naky-aaly-qhan, my younger brother, by Gholam-reza-qhan, son to Mir-mortezevi-qhan, and by some other persons of distinction; all which he presented to Seradj-ed-döulah, on whose mind he soon acquired a complete ascendency. The young Prince, who had taken offence at his uncle’s behaviour this longwhile, and who knew how much Mehdy-nessar-qhan had been attached to his father, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, the murdered Viceroy of Azim-abad, received him with open arms, gave him service, as well as to all his friends, admitted them to his friendship, and assigned them suitable pensions. Mehdy-nessar-qhan gained so much ground upon that young Prince’s mind, that he became his principal favourite, and the daily object of endless favours and kindnesses.
Whilst an orage was gathering within Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, a storm was already breaking over the Oressa. Mir-habib, who listened only to the dictates of his jealousy against Aaly-verdy-qhan’s fortune, was perpetually tormenting him in every manner in his power; and having once put on the odious character of ravager, he gave himself and others no rest, but was perpetually in action for ruining countries which he could not conquer, and rendering miserable people whom he could not bring under subjection. He had attached to his person a large body of Marhattas and Afghans with whom he was desolating these many years all the countries south of the Ganga; nor did he seem either tired of his ill success, or inclined to submit to his fate. To drive such implacable enemies, from his dominions, and to deliver his people from such merciless ravagers, seemed incumbent on Aaly-verdy-qhan’s lofty mind; and he thought so himself. For although worn down by repeated campaigns and endless wars, and broken with the infirmities of old age, he was ever ready to engage in an expedition. And first of all, under pretence of a hunting match, (a divertissament also which he was very fond of, and which is not without its utility) he went out and encamped at Mehrp8r, betwixt the southern and eastern part of the city, in a country that proved so very full of game, that reckoning only the deer, there were killed every day hundreds of those animals. The poor beasts astonished at the noise and sight of such a multitude of men, were stupefied with fears, and so confounded, that they ran from the bushes and from the plain into the very camp, where they were taken alive, or knocked down with sticks and cudgels. After some days spent in this hunting, he turned to the south, and marched as far as Catwa, where he encamped to assemble his troops. From thence he marched to Bardevan, and then to Midnip8r. The enemies hearing of his drawing near, took to their accursed and wonted custom of hiding their unwelcome faces in desert difficult countries; and they concealed themselves so well that no intelligence could be had of them. The Viceroy passed the little river Cassáy, and encamped on the other side; and he resolved at this time to secure the passes so well, that his obstinate enemies should find it difficult to penetrate into his dominions for the future. He therefore determined to pass the season at Midnip8r where he ordered his troops to barrack themselves; and where he gave the Fodjdary of that place and country to Ala-c8li-qhan, Commander of Seradj-ed-döulah’s brigade. He resolved to send that young Prince towards Balisser, where he heard that Mir-habib had been seen. His intention in this, was to accustom the young man to face an enemy, and to command troops, whilst he afforded some rest to the main of his army; being of opinion that the troops which Mir-habib could muster, were not such a force as might endanger his grandson or his detachment. Seradj-ed-döulah having sent forward Dost-mahmed-qhan and Mir-cazem-qhan to see the enemy’s pulse, marched himself after them. Dost-mahmed-qhan having advanced briskly, at day-break found he was in the enemy’s presence; and he attacked immediately, without waiting for Mir-cazem-qhan, his friend and rival. The enemy who dreaded the very name of Aaly-verdy-qhan turned about, after having just stood their ground for form’s sake; and they fled as usual, intimidated even by Dost-mahmed-qhan’s slight attack. Seradj-ed-döulah having pursued the enemy, encamped at Balisser-bender; and as he had no orders to advance farther, he discontinued the pursuit.
So slight a separation from that beloved grandson of his, was enough to decompose all the gravity of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s behaviour. He doated so fondly on his beloved person, that he found it hard to be a whole day without his company; so that, when he found himself deprived of his presence for some days, whilst he knew him engaged in a scene of trouble and danger, he lost his usual firmness of mind, betrayed tokens of impatience, and could not reconcile himself to such a separation. To humour therefore his own inclination, and to turn it to some account, he resolved to try what could be obtained by marching forwards himself, and endeavoring to enclose Mir-habib between two fires; hoping that such a neighbourhood would not fail to afford some favourable opportunity to Seradj-ed-döulah, or to himself. In the sequel he repented, was apprehensive lest the enemy should part the two armies, and avail himself of the young Prince’s inexperience and inattention to fall upon him, and he sent him orders therefore to come back; and following his own messengers, he advanced impatiently by long marches, whilst Seradj-ed-döulah himself was on his side lessening the distance. The two armies joined at Nàraingur; and Seradj-ed-döulah having hastened to embrace the feet of his grandfather,\(35\) filled the old man’s heart with inexpressible joy. The two armies now cantoned themselves at Midnip8r.
This moment of rest seemed to give rise to much heart-burning amongst the officers of the army, and to numberless divisions and discontents. Great discoveries were made in the finances, as well as in the administration of the army. One Qhadja-abdol-hady-qhan, a Cab8lian by birth, who was an officer of Cavalry, although none of the considerable ones, came one day together with his countryman, Séyd-mahmed-yessáol, and was introduced by Gholam-hossëin-qhan, Superintendent of the hall of audience. They both represented that the “collusion between the Accomptant’s office, on one side, and the Paymaster-General and the officers on the other, was such, that the musters were shockingly overcharged, and immense sums made away; so that not one-fourth of the men borne upon the books would upon examination prove to be effective; that for a proof of their assertion, they appealed to their own case, which was exactly such, and similar to what would come out to be the case of every brigade, and every corps in the army, upon the slightest examination; in one word, that to put the case of every brigade beyond dispute, they wanted no more than to be entrusted for one day with the mustering of the troops.” This speech struck the Viceroy with amazement; and the discovery being so very important, the request was complied with, and orders were given to the treasury, and to the several officers, to attend on those two men, and to be obedient to their commands. When to every one’s surprise and amazement, every one of the officers of the troops proved to be struck with confusion and dismay, like so many men that had lost their wits. The two inspectors having agreed together to mind neither rank nor station, nor recommendation, brought forth such a scene of villainy, collusion, and peculate, as covered every one of them with eternal shame; and they supported their assertions, by such undeniable proofs, that it appeared as clear as day-light, that an officer of the army, who received pay for seventeen hundred horse, could not muster so many as eighty or even seventy; and that most of those that were borne for a thousand, could not shew so many as a hundred. These were strange discoveries indeed; and from thence the difference arising throughout the whole army may be easily guessed.\(36\) The two discoverers were loaded with presents, and preferments, and were daily advancing in favour; but they became objects of taunt and reproach, and they gave rise to a general discontent, and to many heart-burnings. It seems that every party acted wrong in this affair; neither ought these men to have carried their animosity and private interest so far; nor ought the army to have been guilty of such enormous collusions. Still less did it become Aaly-verdy-qhan, in a time of war, and at the beginning of a campaign, to examine so minutely into such a discovery; especially as those Commanders had always served him well, and had never spared their pains nor their blood; and as such an inquiry at such a time might have had fatal consequences, he ought to have remembered these verses of the poet:
| “Nothing but dust is to be seen in this plain immense; |
| Let us go quickly over it with our eyes shut up.” |
Whilst all Bengal resounded with this discovery, news came that the Marhattas having turned the Bengal army, were proceeding to M8rsh8d-abad by rapid marches through the hilly country. Aaly-verdy-qhan who was bent on engaging those ravages by all means, and who did not trust either the troops or the deputy he had left in his capital, decamped from Midnip8r, and came back to Bardevan. There he learned that the enemy who did not like a close engagement, and who dreaded his very name, had again retreated behind the hills westward of M8rsh8d-abad.
It was during this march he learned that Fahr-eddin-hossëin-qhan had either by the neglect or connivance of his guards, found means to effect his escape, and to make his way good to Mir-habib and to the Marhattas; but he soon became tired of his new friends. Bred with delicacy, he had never known but by hearsay what bodily pain might be; and he no sooner saw himself amongst those new friends of his with nothing but his horse for all carriage, and nothing but scanty meals for all table, than his spirits failed. Finding himself harassed by long marches and daily toil, he took a disgust to such a way of life, and quitted the Marhattas, to repair to Shah-djehan-abad; where with the money and jewels which he had found means to transmit thither by the channel of some Bankers of P8rania and Maldah, some time before his captivity, he made a shift to live comfortably; but soon falling into a melancholy state of mind, that incessantly preyed upon his spirits, he departed his life and went to join his departed father.
We have left the Viceroy in full pursuit of the Marhattas, and at a loss to know where they might be. At this very conjuncture, there came a Zemindar of the hilly country, who represented “That if His Highness would accept him for his guide, he knew how to carry his victorious troops, by such secret ways, as would enable them to surprise the Marhattas in their retreats.” His proposal was accepted; and the Zemindar Strange behaviour of a Zemindar who had offered himself for a guide. being ordered upon an elephant, where he was watched, the army marched under his direction; but on the third day of the march, it was found that the Zemindar had plunged a poniard in his own bowels. The man having been sent for, and asked the reason of his behaviour, he answered, “That having lost his way, and fearing to be punished for it, he had thought it better to make away with himself.” This accident disconcerted the Viceroy, who unwilling to engage farther in an unknown, uninhabited country, thought it seasonable to march back; and he returned to Bardevan, where he took up his quarters in a seat and garden, belonging to Manic-chund, Divan to the Radja of the country. It was in the most delightful spot which that whole tract could afford; and he intended to tarry there, until he should receive certain intelligence about the motions and encampment of the Marhattas. It was in this seat that Mir-djaafer-qhan, who had received orders to quit the city, where he served under the orders of the Deputy-Governor, and then to repair with his troops to camp, arrived and paid his respects to the Viceroy, who received him very ill. Since the discovery about the deficiencies in the army, he was exceedingly dissatisfied with the conduct of this officer, who had been this longwhile Paymaster-General of the forces. The Viceroy after severely reproaching him for his shameless malversations, commanded him to dismiss his own brother, Mir-ismail from the office of Deputy-Paymaster, and to appoint Qhadja-haddy-qhan in his stead. The officer tergiversed, but at last was obliged to comply with the order.
In a few days intelligence came that the Marhattas had again turned towards Midnip8r; and the Viceroy, whose foremost wish was to engage those ravagers, marched thither directly, after having, as he thought, dismissed Seradj-ed-döula to M8r-shood-abad. For it was here that this young Prince gave tokens of his impatience for reigning; and it was here he endangered his grandfather’s life by the deep impression which such a precipitancy made upon his mind.
It must be remembered that the poor man’s uncle, the late Mehdi-nessar-qhan, was a man of acknowledged merit, especially in military matters, where he was remarkable both for conduct and personal prowess; so that few men could be compared to him. After he had lost his beloved master, Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan, by so lamentable a death, he had entertained thoughts of attaching himself to Aaly-verdy-qhan; but finding that the Viceroy did not pay a sufficient attention to him, he resolved to push himself in the world, in whatever conjunctures time should give a rise to; or should it prove unfavourable, he was resolved to leave the world altogether, and to think only of eternity, and of his salvation, since after all, the end of all wordly things is death.
Full of his plan, he attached himself to Seradj-ed-döulah, whose rising ambition he had guessed. But Mehdi-nessar-qhan’s turn of mind had found so little favour at Court, that this officer being once in conversation with Aaly-verdy-qhan, that Prince who was a clear-sighted man, observing that he spoke with as much boldness as he acted, became desirous of parting his grandson from such a councellor. However it was in vain; for Mehdi-nessar-qhan, informed of this resolution, had determined to be beforehand with him; and we are certain that he spoke to Seradj-ed-döulah in those very terms: “Your grandfather loves you so dearly, that he cannot part with you for a moment; and, on the other hand, he has such a mistrust of your years, and of your rising notions about your being intitled to freedom, power, and a participation of authority, that he wishes to keep you totally ignorant of business, so that you may never pretend to dispute his will, or to aspire at that degree of independence which you are intitled to; for by the right of inheritance, as well as by your personal character for capacity, you are above all your relations, being confessedly the flower of your family, and the flambeau\(37\) of your grandfather’s posterity; and thanks to God, you are now become a man, and have ceased to be a child. So much submission looks unbecoming at your age, and with your pretensions and rights. Should you quit the camp, and repair to Azim-abad, it would not prove a difficult matter to pull down Djankiram, a poor Gentoo, who is only your deputy, and who will do as he shall be bid. After you shall have produced your person to the world in that manner, your uncle shall have no other party left, but that of acting in conformity to your will.”
Such a speech could not fail to make the deepest impression on such a man as Seradj-ed-döulah. He listened attentively to the advice, but kept it in his heart for use; and it becomes highly probable that some measures were already concerted. For Mehdy-nessar-qhan, about the middle of the year 1163, re;signed the service, and repaired to M8rsh8d-abad, from whence he continued his journey with a few friends to Azim-abad; and it happened at that same time that Aaly-naki-qhan, that younger brother of mine, (who am the most inconsiderable of mankind) who on some disgust had quitted Sáyd-ahmed-qhan’s service at P8rania, to attach himself with a body of two hundred horse to Seradj-ed-döulah, now became equally disgusted with the latter, and resigned that service, resolved to repair to Azim-abad likewise with intention to seek his fortune at the Imperial Court. But this resolution having greatly affected me, who then lived at P8rania, where I was greatly considered by Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, but could not bear to part with one to whom I bore so much affection, I sent for him to P8rania, and with many intreaties I engaged Sáyd-ahmed-qhan to give him service again; and that affair ended to my satisfaction. Aaly-verdy-qhan was at that time encamped at Midnip8r, where not being able to get any intelligence of the motions of the Marhattas, he had returned to his old cantonments with intention to remain there. For as the possession of the Castle of that place seemed to have been all along their main object; and Háider-aaly-qhan, the Governor of it, seemed for want of a sufficient force, incapable to preserve that stronghold from those invaders, the Viceroy resolved to pass the season in it; and having ordered that the palace and other buildings there should be put in repair and even enlarged, he sent for his veiled ones\(38\) from M8rsh8d-abad, and published that the army ought to provide themselves with necessaries to pass the rainy season in that neighbourhood. This order could not fail to constern both the officers and soldiers, who tired with the length of this campaign, expected to return home at the beginning of the rains. They now lost the hopes of meeting their families this year; but yet submitted to their fate, and every one commenced providing himself with a cahut, and some covering of thatch or straw. Some days passed in this manner, every one thinking they would now repose for a whole season; when at once it became known that Seradj-ed-döulah, after having dispatched a Seradj-ed-döulah elopes and revolts. short note to Mehdy-nessar-qhan at Azim-abad, to acquaint him with his resolution, had set out for that place, carrying no one with him, but L8tf-en-nessa,\(39\) a bond-maid of his that engrossed his affections. Putting this young lady with her mother in his own Rutt or covered carriage, he had set out for that place, being drawn by an excellent pair of those oxen\(40\) that make usually thirty or forty cosses in a day. When this intelligence was brought to the Viceroy, he was conversing with Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, and Hassen-reza-qhan, and a few other persons of distinction. It would be difficult to describe the effect it had immediately upon him. His colour changed; his features altered; his body shook; his hands trembled; and without speaking a single word, or minding anything else, he got up immediately, mounted his Paleki, and only with a small number of friends and servants that proved to be at hand, he advanced, like one in an alienated state of mind, as far as Divanki-serái; and not finding his darling there, he sent some trusty persons forwards who overtook him, and made use of every motive that could bring him back. Seradj-ed-döulah unmoved by their entreaties, was pushing forwards at an incredible rate. Letters at the same time arrived from the Deputy-Governor qf M8rsh8d-abad, mentioning that he had himself run after the young Prince, without being able to overtake him; but that those that had, had been received very bluntly, having had no other answer than these few words: If you contìnue to run after me, I will make away with myself; upon which the envoys had returned much confounded at his obstinacy. On this intelligence the Viceroy seemed to lose his wonted gravity and firmness of mind; so that leaving the command of his army to Mir-djaafer-qhan and to Radja D8l8bram, he took only his guards with a few friends, and set out for M8rsh8d-abad, going at such a rate, that notwithstanding the rain, the mire, and the bad roads, he had gained eight long stages in four days’ time and was arrived at M8rsh8d-abad, having constantly marched from morning till night. There he tarried only one day; and he set out the next morning for Azim-abad, having first wrote to Seradj-ed-döulah in the terms of an impassionate lover, who supplicated the favour of his shewing once more that beloved face of his to an alienated old man, whose sole delight in his old age centred in that enjoyment. He added some reasonings to engage him to abandon his project, but it was in such a condescending manner, as might not give offence. The letter was delivered to Seradj-ed-döulah at Baghalp8r; and he answered it immediately in these words: “Your Highness, with all these demonstration of love, attention and condescendence is keeping my enemies about your person, and raising them to high dignities and eminent commands;\(41\) for instance. Hussëin-c8ly-qhan. Whilst I, whom you say to be your darling, am kept without either office or employment, and am in fact in a state of depression and contempt, when compared to him. The proof of which is, that on my returning from Bardevan, not one man was at the trouble of coming to my encounter to receive me. To Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, P8raniah has been given in full sovereignty. His brother, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, is lording it all over Bengal; but for me there is nothing in store, but fair words, and caresses, and expressions of love; nor has anything been done for me, that might raise my character, or increase my influence, or give me some importance in the eyes of my relations and friends, or in the estimation of the world; and now, that I am going to take possession of my father’s estate, I am, forsooth, to be cajoled out my right. I advise your Highness to beware of advancing farther; for the consequence of a step of that nature may be such, as that your head shall fall into my lap, or my own shall be made fast to your elephant’s foot.” So animated an answer, although given only verbally, was repeated with exactitude; and Seradj-ed-döulah having found it just, continued his flight. The answer being faithfully reported to the Viceroy, it made a most unexpected effect. He on a sudden became easy in his mind; and he betrayed several tokens of satisfaction and joy; but when the messenger came to the last part of his message, the old man broke his silence, and could not help screaming out: My head in his lap! or at his Elephant’s foot! It is the utmost wish of my heart. As to his head, how didst thou dare, you fellow, to mention it in my presence in this manner? This said, he wrote another letter, full of the most tender expressions, and such as he thought capable of softening the young man’s mind; and he sent it immediately by an express. “This letter contained the most passionate expostulations, with the humblest excuses; and it ended by a request to think better of an old man’s tenderness, and more seriously of his own resolution, as well as of the erroneous conceptions he had imbibed. My dearest one,” said he, “you complain without real foundation; and you have erroneously conceived the very reverse of what has been all along my intention for you. Hear then my humble petition. It is in these terms: Command to my dominions, and to all the world, besides. It is the utmost aim of my schemes, and the only scope of my fond wishes.” At the bottom of the letter, he added these four verses in his own hand:—
| “The warrior who goes alone into the field in quest of martyrdom, |
| Unaware that the martyrs of the field of love suffer still more than he |
| Runs the risk of hearing at the Day of Judgment his own condemnation in |
| these words: |
| Two lovers lie buried here; the one slain by the foe, the other killed by love.” |
But whilst the Viceroy was endeavouring to reclaim his grandson, and to write love letters, the latter was pushing forwards; and he was already arrived at Ghyássp8r, from whence he forwarded a letter to Mehdi-nessar-qhan, to give him notice “that trusting to his promises he had quitted the Royal state, he enjoyed in Bengal, to come so far; and that he expected now that he would be so good as his word, and would come in the state and manner agreed between them.” It must be observed that Mehdy-nessar-qhan had already and before the arrival of the letter, embarked his family and furniture in boats which he intended to dispatch to Ghazip8r; his intention being to exert himself to the utmost, if Seradj-ed-döulah should come; and if he should not, then he was resolved to take his servants and friends with him and to repair to Shah-djehan-abad; for he doubted in his mind whether Seradj-ed-döulah would act up to what had been agreed to between them or could undertake such a mighty enterprise; and such was he in his temper of mind, when the letter in question came to hand. On seeing which he sent for the poor man’s mother (a lady whom he considered as his own), and to whom he bore the tenderest respect, with the most filial attachment; and he shewed her the letter, informing her of Seradj-ed-döulah’s arrival, and requesting her opinion. The lady astonished at what she heard, answered in these terms, which do so much honor to her understanding: “Brother, you will never be able to cope with Aaly-verdy-qhan; and although the man, who commands here, is only a Gentoo and a writer, nevertheless he is his deputy; and with the force he can muster, he will be able to reduce a hundred such ones as yourself. As to Seradj-ed-döulah, he is Aaly-verdy-qhan’s grandson, and the grandfather is doating upon him. His coming so far will do him no great harm; they will join again, and become one again, like sugar and milk that have got a slight simmering; nor shall you be found to have done much more than to have sought your own death to no purpose at all. Your boats are these many days ready. Embark your consort and your daughter, and dispatch them immediately; and as to yourself, get upon a fleet horse, and disappear from hence.” This was a salutary advice; but Mehdy-nasser-qhan retained already by the point of honor, and controuled by the strong hand of destiny, constantly answered the entreaties of that sensible lady only with these words: Had not Seradj-ed-döulah come so far, I should be gone; and I was ready to go; but now that he is arrived, I cannot retreat without losing my character, and without exposing myself to the reproach of pusillanimity and ungenerousness. After such a desertion I will never be able to bear the sight of my acquaintances. As to the rest, if I am to live, and we are able to turn away this Bengally writer, Aaly-verdy-qhan shall not meddle with us; nor shall dominion and sovereignty escape our hands; and if my time draws to an end, then I must submit; nor is it an unknown adage, that whoever is to be buried in the morning, will never sleep in his bed that evening. After having said so much, he took his final resolution, embarked his family, entrusted my mother with some jewels and some vessels of gold and silver (which he destined to his daughter), and quitting his house, he set out at the dawn of the day to meet Seradj-ed-döulah, whom he found at the town of Ghyássp8r called Bar; and after a short conference, he dispatched letters in his name as well as in his own to the officers and Commanders residing at Deher-banga, and on the northern shore of the Ganga, inviting them under great promises to come over and join Seradj-ed-döulah. He wrote to some other persons likewise; and there was a probability of his being shortly at the head of an army; for letters were coming from most of them, in which they were professing their readiness to embrace his party, and announcing their departure. This much is certain, that numbers that had already marched, were obliged to go back, on hearing that Mehdy-nessar-qhan was dead, and that the undertaking had miscarried; for Mehdy-nessar-qhan had such a talent for engaging people in his interest, and such a command over the hearts of military men, that there was no doubt of his being able to get himself followed; nor do I remember to have seen or heard that he had been at any time surpassed or even equalled by any one in that important qualification. After the conference with my mother he took up his abode in Djaafer-qhan’s garden, where Seradj-ed-döulah was already; and that spot was soon resorted to by the inhabitants of Azim-abad, and all the persons of note from the neighbourhood. And now a message was sent to Djankiram, the Deputy-Governor, commanding his attendance. The man was stunned by the message, and he fell headlong in a sea of astonishment and incertitude. “To pay Seradj-ed-döulah a visit, might be found fault with by Aaly-verdy-qhan, who would object that government and sovereignty did not admit of such complaisances and such submissions; and to stand upon a defence, in which Seradj-ed-döulah might come to any harm, would prove an irremissible crime for which no circumstances and no plea of necessity would avail with so impassionate a lover as Aaly-verdy-qhan, who would not fail to put him to death; the old man’s doating fondness for the young Prince being of such a nature, as admitted of no regard for any thing else.” At last he took to the expedient of sending a shrewd man to sound the ford; and this was Mustapha-c8ly-qhan, a brother of Seradj-ed-döulah’s father-in-law. This nobleman was requested to examine Seradj-ed-döulah’s disposition, and to discover what were his real intentions. Mustapha-c8ly-qhan paid his respects, and commenced discoursing on a variety of subjects. The young Prince had been warned beforehand by Mehdy-nessar-qhan not to speak to any of the messengers that would be sent by Djankiram, nor even to admit them in his presence, lest they should come to discover his real intention, and to discourage their master from coming in person. Seradj-ed-döulah, who both from the impatience of youth, and from natural imbecility, was incapable of concealing a secret, disclosed it at once to Mustapha-c8ly-qhan, requesting him at the same time to bring Djankiram over. The envoy, who was an able, well spoken man, immediately promised to comply with his pleasure; and he was dismissed with regard and honor. By one of those strokes of destiny, it happened that when Mustapha-qhan was introduced, Mehdy-nessar-qhan was out, and intent upon some business; so that this nobleman whose very admission he wanted to prevent, went away quietly after a long conference. Mustapha-qhan being gone in this manner, gave full information to Djankiram; and the latter who was preparing to wait on Seradj-ed-döulah, now ordered the gates of the city-walls to be shut up, and guards to be stationed everywhere, whilst himself took his post in the castle. This intelligence was no sooner brought, than Seradj-ed-döulah, who was incapable of dissembling or of containing himself, wanted to set out immediately, to get the gates opened, and to rub that Gentoo’s ears (for such was his expression), being abundantly confident that no one would dare to fire at him, or even to touch his person. Mehdy-nessar-qhan represented, “that gates were not to be opened in that manner; nor fortresses to be taken by sixty or seventy men; and that the whole depended on his taking patience a few days more, when he would have an army at his command.” This rational observation served only to precipitate matters. That foolish young man, who had no discernment enough to distinguish between a proper and an improper moment, and betwixt good and bad advice, answered bluntly: It is upon your words and your promises I have parted with an Empire, or at least with the Royal state I enjoyed, and am come so far; and you want now to skulk from a little fighting? Mehdy-nessar-qhan, who had never been of such a temper, as to put up with reproaches in that style, replied with warmth, and spoke in these words: “Had you listened to sober counsel, you would not have admitted into your presence people that came to sound your intentions; nor would you have all at once informed them of your secrets. Now informed they are. The game has escaped out of your net, and has escaped, because you have opened the net yourself. The Gentoo is now put upon his guard; and now after all that, you with only these sixty or seventy men that are about your person (all of whom surely cannot be men of valour and capacity), you want no less than to take castles, and to conquer provinces? Absurd! In two or three days, at most, numerous troops will be flocking to you from all parts, and then it will be time to think of bringing this affair to the conclusion which you wish.” To all this that ignorant, imprudent young man answered nothing, but the very words he had already uttered; and Mehdy-nessar-qhan unwilling to retreat on one hand, and convinced on the other that matters were taking a desperate turn, at once took his resolution and resolved to die. Accordingly he put some affairs in order, passed the whole night in prayers and in recommending himself to the divine mercy; and at day-break he displayed the standard of prowess. So that at the head of his sixty men, he advanced to take the fortress of Azim-abad. This event happened at the A. D 1754-55. end of Redjeb, or in the beginning of Shaaban, in the year 1163 of the Hedjra. This handful of men was then at the eastern gate; and as the wall of that part appeared steep, and thronged with armed men, he, under pretence of going to visit the monument of his dear master, Zin-eddin-ạhmed-qhan, mounted the young Prince upon his own horse, and advanced thither on foot, inclining towards a small gate that goes by the name of the Wicket of the Begum’s quarters. But as that part, although somewhat lower, was likewise found guarded by armed men, especially by those commanded by the Gentoo Mehta-djesvent-nagur, a relation of Radja Dia-bahadyr, an engagement took place, and a firing commenced from the wall. Mehdy-nessar-qhan having placed Seradj-ed-döulah with a few men in a particular spot at the foot of the rampart, where he was under cover and safe, went himself with the rest, and proceeded still by the foot of the wall, looking out for some easier ascent\(42\); and having found one at last, he Strange attack of the city of Azim-abad by sixty men. got over it with most of his men slightly wounded, and even with an arrow lodged in his own arm. Some others, like Emanet-qhan, with a few more, got in by a water-course, that had been enlarged by the rain; and having opened the gate from within, they introduced Seradj-ed-döulah with the few men that were with him; so that this particular part of the city-wall was evacuated by the garrison; and the way into the city was left open and free. Mehdy-nessar-qhan with a Dajma upon his person, and a sabre in his hand, was advancing on foot in a menacing posture at the head of his friends, who were followed by Seradj-ed-döulah mounted upon Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s horse; nor did he meet with any obstruction in his way, until he found himself at the gate of my mother’s apartment, over against Hadji-gundj, betwixt which and the Begum’s quarter, the ground is full of houses. There Djankiram made his appearance with all the apparatus of war. He was mounted on his elephant, preceded by some field-pieces and rockets, and a large number of men; but notwithstanding that appearance of firmness, he looked like one amazed and confounded, and in dread of what might happen. Hassen-aaly-qhan with his body of troops preceded him; and the two parties met about the chock or market-place, facing the castle gate. His people could not amount to less than four thousand men, besides the garrison spread upon the walls. On sight of this Emanet-qhan, one of Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s friends and followers, a man of great courage and prowess, brandished his spear, and spurring his horse, he threw himself amongst those that followed Hossëin-aaly-qhan, and had formed a line extending southwards betwixt the castle-gate and the market-place. But not one of those men had the courage to face that warrior. They all gave way at once; and skulking in the shops, and behind the stalls, they were firing upon him from under cover. The man like a courageous lion, that has got amongst a herd of timorous deer, was now falling upon one, and then rushing upon another; until some one getting upon the top of a house, or into some other lofty part, took aim leisurely, and shot him in the head; and that brave man falling from his horse, spent his life honourably in the field of braves. Just at this time Mehdy-nessar-qhan was advancing still at the head of his small troop; and numbers of the enemy, who knew him personally, were calling out to him, to have pity on himself, and to forbear advancing. Some of his people were making the same entreaties; but these words served only to raise his anger; and turning to these latter, he answered: These words of yours do not suit my circumstances at present. Let any one of you who loves me better than he does himself, step forth and march before me. It must be observed that whilst Emanet-qhan was engaged, Mirza-medar-begh the Decanian, seeing his friend’s danger, called out to his two sons and to his son-in-law, to follow him; and spurring his horse directly, he advanced to his assistance with two or three more; but before he could come up, Emanet-qhan was already slain,—and himself after having done much execution both with his spear and then with his sabre, was shot dead from a house; so that his sons and son-in-law seeing him fall, fled from that scene of slaughter; but having in their flight mixed with the few that were with Mehdy-nessar-qhan, they bore down their ranks, and communicated their own fears; so that these also commenced skulking about and dispersing. As the street was narrow, and it could not hold more than six horses in front, the five or six runaways, by running full speed amongst them, made them give away; and some of these availed themselves of the shelter afforded by houses and shops. Mehdy-nessar-qhan being then close to the Cotval’s Chabotra or tribunal, got in a shop; and as soon as the runaways were gone, he came out again, with his sabre in his hand, and continued advancing; but by this time one half of his followers had disappeared; and the rest disheartened by the flight of Medar-beg’s sons, and by the desertion it had occasioned, were hardly to be kept together, and they often turned about to look behind. At the heels of the runaways, arrived Mehta-djesvent-nagur, armed and quilted\(43\); and as A singular combat between two noblemen equally stout and brave. he knew Mehdy-nessar-qhan personally, he called out to him: “My Lord Qhan, you have got over the wall at the spot where I commanded, and have of course occasioned a stain upon my character; but still you are my acquaintance and friend. Why do you expose yourself in such a manner? It is not too late yet to be gone. For God’s sake, begone directly, and live.” These words seemed to excite both a smile and some peevishness in Mehdy-nessar-qhan. He answered with warmth: Pray, what do you mean, Mr. Mehta, by such counsels, and so much care of me at this time? You and I are now foes to one another. After having said so much with a deal of warmth, he recollected himself, and added these two verses of the poet:
| “Stand forth now with whatever thou canst muster of manliness and courage; |
| Brandish thy sabre, thy poniard, thy battle-axe, and thy spear!” |
This answer overcame Mehta-djesvent’s reluctance. He bore in the world a great character for both valour and bodily strength; and finding himself challenged, and his character at stake, he was, against his own inclination, obliged to stand forth; but, however, to bring matters upon a par, he quitted his horse and spear, advanced on foot, and engaged. Mehdy-nesser-qhan on seeing him within reach, gave him a violent stroke on the neck, which was parried only in part; and this was the time to finish him with another stroke; but his vigour was supported by none of his people; else, it is indubitable that had Djesvent-nagur been slain, the enemies would have been struck with terror, as they were already looking behind; nor had Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s people anything more to do than to move to his assistance, in which case there is no doubt but the enemy would have given way. But none moved; so far were they from such an exertion, that whilst Mehdy-nessar-qhan was actually engaged, he was observed to look back, and to say such a one, I did not expect that from thee. Whilst the two combatants were advancing against each other (and this was close to a spot called the Hadji’s corner), one Mir-ashruff, an officer of note and a great friend of Mehta-djesvent’s, came out of a door close to Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s left, and he called out to that hero, advising him to retire. The other having not only answered in an angry tone and with foul language, but also forbidden him to coming near, if he valued his own life, the man shocked at the tone and expression, fell back a little; and taking a circuit, he came suddenly behind, and gave that hero a back stroke of his sabre upon both legs, which threw him on the ground; and then only that heroical man, whose head deserved a Crown, then only was he finished by Mehta-djesvent. On sight of this, Seradj-ed-döulah, who was a rank coward, turned briddle and fled full speed, taking to the street that lead to Mustapha-c8ly-qhan’s lodgings; and his people at the same time sheltered themselves, every one into some corner. At a little distance behind Mehdy-nessar-qhan fell two or-three persons, much wounded with musquet-balls, amongst which was one Mirza-sanghy, a descendant of one of the saints revered by Séif-qhan; and he accompanied that brave man into the regions of eternity. Mehta-djesvent, although much wounded and with the blood streaming from his cheek and neck, accompanied rather than pursued Seradj-ed-döulah to Mustapha-c8ly-qhan’s lodgings, being fearful of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s resentment; and this nobleman hearing of the Prince’s coming, advanced on foot out of his gate, and received him with great respect, sparing nothing either in personal attendance or in anything else, that might render his abode agreeable. So that Mehta-djesvent having seen the Prince safe, recommended him to the Qhan, and returned to his lodgings. As to Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s body, now lying lifeless, Djankiram had the meanness to order that high-born head of his to be severed from the body, and the latter to be hung at the eastern gate; but on a representation from some officers of his own troops, he gave leave for its being taken down, and then purified, and inhumed with the accustomed rites and decence. The valorous and unfortunate Séyd was buried in his glorious father’s monument, which is in a corner of Lon-gola, where also they buried, but without the monument, the few men that had fallen by his side.
Verse:
| “Such is the end of everything in this world; such it is.” |
May God Almighty’s forgiveness rest upon him; and may he have obtained a place amongst his pious and intrepid ancestor’s! Amen. Djankiram having seen Mehdy-nessar-qhan dead, and heard that Seradj-ed-döulah was safe, thought he had come in the world a second time; and like one that had recovered a new life, he went into the castle, and there sat in all the pride of success and self-applause.
Whilst all this was happening at Azim-abad, Aaly-verdy-qhan was arriving about Bar, all the while in the most excruciating fears about what might have befallen the object of his love. He had made haste with all the impatience of an impassionate lover; and his heart fluttered like a moth at the near approach of the flame emitted by that beautious face of his beloved one. Arrived at Bar, he learned what had happened; and now commencing to respire with freedom, he sent Seradj-ed-döulah a message full of love and tenderness. This was carried by Séyd-assed-ollah-qhan, a nobleman of consequence, who had accompanied the Viceroy in this voyage. The Qhan who was a man of sense, executed his commission in a manner that soothed and gained Seradj-ed-döulah’s mind, hitherto much alienated from his uncle; and the young Prince expressed a desire of seeing his venerable ancestor. The intelligence overpowered the old man; on hearing that his darling had set out on his journey, he lost his usual temper of mind, and betrayed all the levity of the most youthful joy and the most unruly exultation; and matters came so far that this mountain of seriousness and gravity became as light and as unsteady as a feather exposed to the wind. So that he betrayed such signs of restlessness as surprised every one of those that knew him this longwhile. He was endlessly speaking of his beloved; and where he might be now; and how far he night have advanced this evening; and where he might be to-morrow; nor was anything else to be had from his mouth. But when he heard that the young man was arriving, his exultation overleapt all bounds. Unable to contain himself any more, he ordered the wall of his tent-yard to be thrown down, that he might descry from afar the object of his love; and as soon as he saw his Paleky set down, he prostrated himself on the ground, to acknowledge his arrival as a special favour from the Almighty. Seradj-ed-döulah having drawn near, alighted, and marching with a quick pace,\(44\) he hastened to throw himself at his grandfather’s feet. The old man threw both his arms round his neck, and drawing him to his bosom, he kept him close to it for a length of time with all the emotions of the most enthusiastic tenderness; after which he prostrated himself again and returned a long thanksgiving for so signal a benefit. A moment after he made him mount with him, and proceeded to the city of Azim-abad, where amongst throngs of a multitude that loved his person, and were attached to his family, he alighted at one of those buildings raised by Seradj-ed-döulah’s father, on the shore of the Ganga, and he sat on a Mesned there, giving audience to all comers. But as Seradj-ed-döulah continued incensed against Djankiram for what he called his boldness, and for what the other had been forced to by the duties of his station, Aaly-verdy-qhan himself took the part of an intercessor, and sent him to the young Prince, with injunctions to implore his forgiveness. The young Prince out of regard to his grandfather’s intercession, received him with condescendence, and dismissed him with honour. This reconciliation having pacified every one, and there appearing no reason in the world for tarrying in those parts, the Viceroy, whose thoughts were now engrossed by his army, which he had left at Midnip8r, under Generals which he did not trust, resolved to return immediately; and he therefore sent for Djankiram, gave him a dress of confirmation, and taking Seradj-ed-döulah with him, he set out for M8rsh8d-abad. But the old man who had hitherto been a prey to all the agitations of a distracted mind, was now seized by a hot fever, which in a few days rose to an alarming height; nor was there in those parts any other physician of character, but Doctor Tadj-eddin, who immediately received orders to accompany him; and he did not spare his care and attendance. Aaly-verdy-qhan impatient to reach the end of his journey, was hastening down the river by boat; but as none was so well acquainted with his constitution as the honourable, the illustrious and respectable Doctor Haddi-qhan the Hashemite, neveu to that seal and complement of Doctors, the reservoir of physicial and philosophical learning, the Galen of his time, Doctor Oluvi-qhan; he sent a trusty person to request his attendance; and that illustrious Qhan having immediately set out, overtook his noble patient at Radjemahl, where he so sedulously applied all the strength of his art to that important cure, that he prevented the fever from doing more mischief, and kept it under controul; in so much that the Viceroy arrived at his palace in the height of his distemper. But such was his confidence in his physician, Haddy-aaly-qhan, that he left entirely in his disposal everything that could pertain to the use of simples or compounds, resolved to do nothing without consulting him; and it must be acknowledged that this Plato of his time was endowed with a breath as healing as that of the Messiah,\(45\) and had not his equal in the art of administering remedies and restoring health. In a little time the Prince’s distemper took to its decline, and he recovered apace. After his recovery, that lover of learning and that rewarder of merit, honoured the illustrious Qhan with a Qhylaat of the first rank, a Serpich and a Djica of jewels, an elephant of surprising bigness, mounted with his Háodah, and a sum of five thousand rupees. From that period, he made it a point to rise and stand up on his coming to see him; and not satisfied with that mark of respect, he conferred upon him several honourific distinctions of the highest kind; and moreover ordered that he should ride in Paleky in any part of the palace, without alighting anywhere, but close to the rails of the Terrasse adjoining the hall of audience; a distinction granted to none but to his two sons-in-law, and to Seradj-ed-döulah, his grandson; and these three Princes also were ordered to stand up for him. Aaly-verdy-qhan, on the day he was permitted to bathe,\(46\) ordered sums of money to be distributed to Séyds and to necessitous families of all sorts; and although the rains were not drawing to their end, and he had no apprehension of any incursion or ravage from the Marhattas; nevertheless, as his body continued for a long time in a state of great weakness, he wrote to Radja D8l8bram, and to Mir-djaafer-qhan, to inform them that at the end of the rains, the victorious standards would not fail to take the road of Midnip8r.
Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, the Governor of P8raniah, had received from the Viceroy an invitation to meet him on the road; and he had therefore come down as far as Carangola, where he had prepared a set of magnificent tents, and a sumptuous entertainment for his noble visitor; he also sent me, the poor man, some cosses beyond Carangola, to receive that Prince on the southern shore of the Ganga; but on hearing that he had excused himself on account of his illness, and that he had continued his route to M8rsh8d-abad by the middle of the stream, without touching at either shore, he dispatched his own physician, Mir-mahmed-messih, to attend him, and himself followed immediately; but at his arrival at M8rsh8d-abad he found his task changed into felicitations for the recovery of that precious health. He therefore kissed his grandfather’s feet, venerated his glorious face, and returned his acknowledgments to Heaven for so important a recovery. This unexpected visit furnished Nefissa-begum, mother to the late Nawab Ser-effraz-qhan, with an opportunity of promoting a scheme which she had much at heart. This Princess, who had been taken into Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s family, where he had given her such a full command over his whole household, that his consort herself, although daughter to Aaly-verdy-qhan, (it was Mehr-en-nessa-begum, better known by the name of Gahassity-bibi), paid her the utmost deference; and both husband and consort were vying with each other in soothing her grief by every demonstration of respect and attention. Nefissa-begum had adopted as her son, a boy born to Ser-effraz-qhan, the very day he was slain at the battle of Gheriah. His name was Aga-baba; and he had become the darling of her heart, and the consolation of her old age. She intended to marry him to one of the daughters of Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, to whom she sent a message by Bibi-Gahassity herself. The Prince declined the match at first; but overcome by the vivacity of her entreaties, and by those of her husband’s, he gave his consent. But as such a match could not be celebrated properly on the part of Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, without assembling his whole family, parentage and kindred, at the head of which was Aaly-verdy-qhan himself; and decency required that the family, parentage, and kindred of the late Ser-effraz-qhan should not be forgotten; it became probable that all that multitude would not choose to repair to P8raniah; and of course it seemed expedient to celebrate the nuptials at M8rsh8d-abad, where Sáyd-ahmed-qhan promised to return for that ceremony, as soon as he should have finished his preparatives at P8raniah, whither he was going for that purpose. In a few days he set out accordingly, loaded with presents and caresses from his father-in-law, with which he returned to his capital, where we shall leave him at present to finish his preparatives, as the conclusion of this affair shall find its place in the sequel, and we must now revert to the affairs of war.
The troops left at Midnip8r under command of Radja D8l8b-ram and Mir-djaafer-qhan, were numerous and sufficient to fight the Marhattas, and to drive them not only from Balasser, but from the whole Oressa. Nevertheless such was the slender opinion entertained of the abilities of the one Commander, and the doubts conceived of the courage of the other; and such was the damp thrown upon the spirits of the army by the very report of their invincible master’s illness, that this same army was now thought unequal to the task; and although circular letters had been sent everywhere to announce his recovery, still they were thought both by friends and foes to be no better than so many contrivances, and so many strokes of policy to conceal the real state of things. It was from such a cause that the troops could not be brought to face the enemy with their wonted alacrity; and the same cause had rendered bolder and adventurous an enemy, who ascribed this backwardness to some other origin. Such a state of things rendered Aaly-verdy-qhan still more anxious to make his appearance in the field. Weak therefore, as he was yet, and feeling still the remains of his illness, he put himself at the head of a numerous body and marched to Midnip8r; The Viceroy againat the head of his troops, forces the Marhattas to a retreat. whilst Radja D8l8bram and Mir-djaafer-qhan advanced from that town to meet their lord in the plain of Bardevan, where they had the honor to kiss his feet. It was in the year 1164. And as the Marhattas on the strength of the Aaly-verdy-qhan’s illness had advanced to Midnip8r, that Prince who always wished for an opportunity to engage them, marched up to them, and the two armies meeting, an engagement took place; when the enemies, according to their rooted custom, fled and left the Prince master of the field of battle. The freebooters unable to stand the brunt of troops accustomed to break their ranks, took to flight; and taking a circuit, they retired into the hills and woody countries that stretch along the west of Bengal. The Viceroy pursued; but as soon as he had approached near enough to come to blows, they fled again, still pursued and still flying; nor did the Bengal army afford them time to take breath, or to stand awhile. At last the Marhattas tired with so obstinate a pursuit, faced about, and returned into the Oressa by the country behind the hills; whilst Aaly-verdy-qhan, disappointed in his pursuit, but resolved to root them out of the country, postponed his expedition to the next year, and with his victorious troops took the road to M8rsh8d-abad, and encamped at Catwa.
This retreat afforded Mir-habib and the Marhatta Generals leisure to consult together on the state of things, so as to be weary of a warfare that had lasted already so many years without producing for them anything but continual toil and endless losses. “They observed that it had served only to inure Aaly-verdy qhan’s The two parties tired of a two years war. troops to hardships and to victory; and at last they concluded that instead of spending their strength in such fruitless campaigns, it was better to come to some terms with the enemy. And as on the other hand, giving up totally their pretensions on the Oressa, and abstaining totally from their views upon Bengal, seemed dishonourable to Rhagodji-bhoslah’s dignity, it was thought proper to submit the matter to Aaly-verdy-qhan himself, under certain conditions.” In consequence of this resolution Mir-habib sent some trusty persons with a message to Mir-djaafer-qhan, who transmitted the same to Court in a proper style and at a proper moment. The Viceroy, accustomed to success and victory, thought it hard to admit such conditions, but yet he submitted to them on a variety of reasons. “The declension of his health, and the necessity of consulting, above all, the ease and tranquillity of his dominions, required such a sacrifice at his hands. He considered that he was now in the seventy-fifth year of his age, broken with the fatigues of ten repeated campaigns against the Marhattas, in which time he had also fought mighty battles with Mustapha-qhan, with Shimshir-qhan, and with some other Afghan Commanders, whose vanquished troops had only served to increase the number of his enemies. That this latter by a warfare which consisted in avoiding all decisive engagements, and in burning the villages, spoiling the harvest, and slaughtering the husbandmen, had contrived a way of managing so as to render his very victories equal to so many defeats. Lastly, the inhabitants of the south of the Ganga, exhausted with eternal ravages, and yearly migrations, panted after some release from their toils, and wished to live henceforward in safety, and in a freedom from endless apprehensions in their homes.” To all these motives may be added that his own inclination was now for peace. “He pronounced a sentence of the Coran relative to the subject, and wrote to Mir-djaafer-qhan, giving him leave to send some trusty persons to Mir-habib’s camp; and he agreed that should any man of sense and character come from that General with such proposals as would be found admissible, they would be listened to; or else, the envoy would have leave to return in all safety.” In consequence of this consent, Mir-djaafer-qhan returned Mir-habib’s envoys in company with two others of his own, namely, Mir-hassen-aaly and Mir-gho8ss-aaly. These two gentlemen informed Mir-habib that Aaly-verdy-qhan consented to listen to an agreement; and that it was now his part to pitch upon a proper personage for treating properly of an affair of that moment. Mir-habib, who did not expect so much condescendence, so sooner heard of this intelligence, which he thought to be an unexpected piece of good luck for him, than he acknowledged it to be now incumbent upon him to carry on his shoulders the trappings of obedience and submission to Aaly-verdy-qhan, and to approve himself submissive to his commands. Pleased with this overture, he appointed Mirza-saleh, a gentleman of character, to accompany Mir-djaafer-qhan’s two envoys; and he gave him order to avail himself of that nobleman’s mediation, to gain access to the Viceroy’s presence. The envoy had orders to profess “his master’s submission to His Highness’s commands, and his firm resolution henceforwards to be obedient to whatever he should be pleased to prescribe.” The envoy having been introduced by Mir-djaafer-qhan, whilst the Viceroy was encamped at Catwa, had the honour to pay his respects, and to follow his stirrup, that unerring guide to success and victory; and it was in his retinue he arrived at M8rsh8d-abad.
Treaty of peace with the Marhattas.Aaly-verdy-qhan being now arrived in his capital, received a respectful letter from Mirza-saleh where it was set forth that his master was now all submission to his commands; having taken a sincere resolution to approve himself henceforwards his obedient servant. Some time having been spent in questions and answers, in a few days the treaty of peace was concluded; and it was on the following terms:—
“That Mir-habib, deemed henceforward to be in the service of the Majestuous in battles, should be invested by him with the honourable office of Deputy to His Highness in the Nizamet or Military Government of the Province of Oressa. That as Deputy-Governor, he should receive orders to appropriate the revenues of that province to the payment of the arrears due to Rhago-dji-bhoslah’s troops. That over and above that assignment, the sum of twelve lacs of rupees should be paid to Rhago-dji’s agents yearly, under condition that the Marhattas would never set their foot again within the dominions of His Highness. Lastly, that the M8tusuddies and the Accomptant-office of Bengal would pay yearly the above sum.”
“That the river Sonamakia, which runs by Ballisser-bender, should henceforward be reputed to be the wall and boundary betwixt the two dominions, and that the Marhatta armies would never offer to cross it, or to put a foot in its waters.”
These conditions having been notified to Mir-habib, were accepted by that General, who sent a paper under his hand and seal, in the form of an obligation, to Aaly-verdy-Qhan; and the negotiation being now concluded, the envoy, Mirza-saleh, was honoured with the appellation of Musaleh-eddin-mahmed-qhan,\(47\) decorated with many favours, and dismissed with the patent of the treaty, and with an elehphant, a Qhylaat of investiture, and several other presents for his master.
This treaty of peace restored tranquillity and security to all the campaigns in Bengal; and as no apprehension remained of any invader, or of any commotion from abroad, Aaly-verdy-qhan made a great reduction in his army; and then turned his views entirely towards rebuilding villages, tilling abandoned lands, cherishing the husbandmen, and recalling to their homes the inhabitants of an infinity of towns, plundered and ruined by the Marhattas. He made the ease of the people as well as of the nobility the foremost care of his mind; and as henceforward the town and province of Midnip8r were to belong to Bengal, he appointed to the Fodjdary of the castle and province Radja Ram-sing, who had been hitherto the Commander of the body of spies in his service, an office in which Ram-sing was succeeded by his brother, Naráin-sing.
It was about this time that Rabiah-begum,\(48\) daughter to Hadji-ahmed, and consort to Ata-ollah-qhan, made her appearance in Bengal. This Princess on her husband’s being banished from Aaly-verdy-qhan’s dominions, had thought proper to follow her lord’s fortunes as far as Lucknow; but the latter having been slain in a battle in which he fought for Nevol-ráy against Amed-qhan-bangash, the Princess availed herself so well of her being a niece to Aaly-verdy-qhan, and she placed so appositely several rich presents, which she distributed to the Grandees of Lucknow, and to the Zemindars of those parts, that she found means to retreat from that dangerous country, and to repair to Azim-abad with all her fortune, riches, furniture, children, family and dependants, great and small. From Azim-abad she went down to M8rsh8d-abad, where she took up her abode under the shade of Aaly-verdy-qhan, her glorious uncle’s protection. It was about this time also that Bir8-dutt, Superintendent of the finances of Bengal, coming to die of an hydropsy, his deputy, Omid-ráy, without being appointed Divan himself, was ordered to attend to the duties of that high office, until Radja Kyret-chund, son to the Ráy-ráyan Aalum-chund, who had been at the head of the Qhalissah-office in Shudjah-qhan’s government, should himself arrive, and take possession of that charge. This Radja Kyret-chund, having some knowledge of grammar and syntax, wrote the Persian more correctly and more elegantly than usually falls to the lot of Gentoos; and he had for sometime been Divan or Prime Minister to Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan at Azim-abad, as we have already mentioned in the foregoing pages. After his master’s death, he attached himself to Ata-ollah-qhan, whom he served as his Divan, and from whom he parted at Banaress, where he remained. From thence he was invited over by several civil letters which Aaly-verdy-qhan wrote him, as an acknowledgment for his having conveyed to him certain important information relative to the finances. Being arrived, he was received with distinction, honoured with a rich Qhylaat in investiture of the Divanship of all Bengal, and at once put in possession of that office, where he thought proper to continue Omid-ráy, as his deputy. Kyret-chund being son to a Minister who had long been at the head of all the accounts of Bengal, and was therefore furnished with many important papers, soon found means to prove undeniable balances against several Zemindars, and some other persons of high rank, but chiefly against Djagat-seat and the Radja of Bardevan. These were all confessed; and the
These Fakyrs either go intirely naked, or just cover their privities, and no more, if penitent. There are some others, who live in troops together, and are considerable merchants, marching in droves, and keeping thieves and bandittis at a distance. They wear a turbant, a piece of linen round their loins, and a kind of Dopata or sheet, which occasionally covers the whole body; all that is of a faint brick colour. That they have no women among themselves, is certain; but it is universally reported that they are not scrupulous on another article, infinitely more criminal.
↩Mehabet-djung, or the Majestuous in Battles, was the title which the Viceroy went by.
↩Famous gardens in Arabia Foelix, destroyed by a flood and inundation, a thousand years before Mahomet.
↩From its being the fourth day. The author passes over the principal reason. Such accidents are not new in a country where they make nothing of surrendering delicate girls of eleven to tall stout man of thirty.
↩The tried in battles; the honoured of the State.
↩Maass8m-el-arefin; these words, if they signify any thing at all, may be translated by the expression: the Infant of the knowing ones, or possibly, the pure amongst the knowing ones (those that have knowledge). But it may be said, with great truth, that the surname being a very odd and very whimsical one, is unintelligible to much more able men than the translator.
↩The handsome ones, as their very name import, are Hassen, and Hossëin, born to Aaly by Fatemah, the Prophet’s daughter.
↩This expression as well as that which follows, is a literal translation.
↩The Chopdars and Sonta-berdars, i.e., Staff-bearers, and Bludgeon-bearers, were in times of yore a military guard, now become purely civil. They are servants of the better sort, doing duty in the apartments of a palace, or serving as messengers. The former are distinguished by a staff, four or five feet high, upon two or three inches in diameter. The Sonta-berdar’s cudgel is half that length, upon the same diameter, but a little bent at the top. Both are plaited in silver and gilt. A message sent by a Chopdar implies equality, and does honour; sent by a Sonta-berdar, it implies compulsion, and may be occasionally enforced; which is what a Chopdar neither can nor will do. A Yessaol is a Chopdar, armed. These last are mostly Moghuls, and foreigners.
↩A flying, or a Bird.
↩This language, although different from the modern Persian, has an affinity with the old, and is of the same genus.
↩The Biry is composed of two or three leaves of that aromate called Paan by the natives, and Beetle by the English, some Catt or Catchou, and some grains of Ilachi, or Cardamoms, with a little. S8piary, or Beetlenut, and a little Chuna or shell-lime; the whole folded up in a bit of those Kela or Plantain leaves, that are of a lively green, and as shining as Satin; so as to form a Pyramid made fast with a long or clove as with a pin. See the remark, 268, Section 4th.
↩These words which singify forty columns, design a building of stone that exists still, and of which the English have several times made a post in their several wars. It is open on all sides, and supported by forty columns.
↩The Prophet’s foot. There are many such impressions in India, being the places where the Prophet has appeared to some one, whether in a dream or by day, or where an impression of his foot has been brought from Medina; and all these places have an oratory and several buildings adjoining.
↩The Cahtries are in dignity the second race or tribe in India, the Brahmans or Levites being the first. The Radjp8ts or military tribe, &c., are themselves reputed Cahtries, and both are handsomely featured.
↩The Cattary is a poniard peculiar to India, and made in such a manner that the handle looks like a hilt whose two branches extend along the arm, so as to shelter both the hand and part of the arm. Every stroke of it is mortal; for the blade which is very thick, and cutting on both sides upon a breadth of three inches at the hilt, ends in a solid point of one inch more or less in diameter; so as to be incapable of binding, or of being stopped by anything, save a cuirass. The blade may be a foot and quart in length, and with the hilt, two feet, or two and-a-half.
↩This long sword, called D-h8p, has been already explained, as being about four feet long, and held upright in the scabbard, as a walking cane. It has been a mark of Sovereignty; and it is even now of high command.
↩A man would think himself in disgrace, or at least slighted, if on a first visit, he chanced to be dismissed without a Biry being put in his hand.
↩Besides the D-h8p, or long broad sword, carried by some men of consequence bolt upright, it is customary, when the Prince or Navaab is sitting upon the Mesned, to lay upon that very Mesned another sabre, and this is always a bent one, like a Persian sabre.
↩Both these cities are now become the capitals of that new monarchy, that has sprung out of the ashes of Nadyr-shah’s Empire, and forms now a powerful State that embraces several contiguous provinces of Persia, India, and Tartary.
↩That is, a sheet of fine lines, that has been rubbed to Hossëin’s Monument at Kerbela, and is inscribed all over with passages of the Coran, or even with the whole Coran, in characters made with moistened Sandal-dust; and strange as it may seem, the Shyahs, both men and women, commit even crimes to get at those passports. Look at the remark 129, Section 10th.
↩These words with a few lines that follow, are given here literally as a specimen of our author’s oriental style.
↩The Prince of Martyrs ought by all means to be Mahomet himself, who was poisoned by his fair Jew prisoner, in his expedition against the Jews of Qháiber; but Mahomet cuts but a small figure with the Shyahs or Persian sectaries, whenever their own heroes may be affected by the competition. The Prince of Martyrs with them, therefore, is either Aaly, his cousin and son-in-law, who was slain at Nejef alias C8fah, near Basrah, where he lies buried; or Hossein, his grandson, by Fetemah, who was slain at Kerbela, near Bagabad, where he is entombed, and where his monument is resorted to every day by immense crowds of Persians, and even by Turks who chance to pass that way.
↩An Afghan knife is equal to a half sabre.
↩By the words believers, the author always means Shyahs.
↩In that case people of the highest distinction keep always on the watch at the gate of the Seraglio some Eunuch, or at least an old woman, whose business is to run forwards and give notice to the Ladies. Inferior people always stop at the curtain that indicates the apartment of women, and either cough several times, or talk aloud, or strike their hands together. This precaution is intended to afford some delay to any woman that should be bathing, or drying their hair in the sun, or shifting their clothes, or even proving without a veil. Any intrusion at such a time, by even the master of the house, would occasion a general screaming, or at least much murmuring.
↩This is the polite expression for signifying women.
↩One of the ancestors of Mahmed-shah, and the ninth in order above him. He was represented with a broad face, a thin goat’s beard, and a very thin pair of whiskers; so that the Tartarian features may be seen of late at that face. His son, Shah-djehan, had a thorough Indian face, that is, a beautiful one in the European style.
↩He died at M8rsh8d-abad a few years ago, and left a library of two thousand volumes; an amazing number, indeed, in such a country as this.—He was so highly respected for his learning, that both the Navvab Mubarec-ed-döula, and the Navvab Mazaffer-jung, alias Mahmed-reza-qhan, used to make him a profound bow from afar, on their going to render him a visit; nor did they offer to sit down without being bid.
↩That is, two or three delicate leaves of paan, (or, as say the Europeans, beetle) cut in parts, and folded up like a pyramid in a bit of banana-leaf, or plantain, containing likewise some shell-lime, or chuna, some s8piari (or beetle-nut) and some caat or (or catchoo,) the whole fixed with a clove that serves as a pin.
↩The same who since became Supreme Criminal Magistrate of Bengal, in 1780.
↩Observe that such an amazing fortune was no more than that of a second-rate man in Bengal; a Fodjdar of Bagsip8r, who to the advantage of being allied to the reigning family by marriage, added only that of having been fourteen years in a middling office, Such were then the riches of Bengal.
↩The lines marked by inverted commas, are a literal translation; and they are given here for a specimen of our author’s Oriental style.
↩This narrative does not satisfy in the original. It is lame and full of contradictions; and although these have been reconciled as much as possible, still it is lame and unsatisfactory; but such is the text.
↩This is the etiquette for meeting a father or a grandfather, after some absence. In either case the old man’s knees are to be embraced, and his feet kissed.
↩Such are, without exception, all the armies and all the troops of India; and were we to rate by this rule, those armies of fifty and a hundred thousand men that fought, or were slaughtered at the decisive battles of Palasy and Bacsar (and by some such rule must they be rated by all means), we would have incredible deductions to make. Such a rule, however, would not answer for Mir-cassem-qhan’s troops, where there was not one single false muster; nor would it answer for Haider-aaly’s armies.
↩This was a flattering allusion to Mirza-mehmed’s principal title, which was Seradj-ed-döula, id est the shining taper of the Empire. His other title (but this had been only in his childhood) was Shah-c8li-qhan, the Lord Soldier of the Kings.
↩This is the respectful and polite expression when a man speaks of the women of another, as well as of his own.
↩This lady is now living at M8rsh8d-abad; and although on being surprised at Radj-mahl some years after by Mir-cassem-qhan, she was stripped of every thing, yet it is certain that she is reputed rich; and she enjoys a pension from the Nizamut, i.e., from those English which her lord wanted to destroy to a man. She must not be confounded with fáizy or fáizen, another favourite of Seradj-ed-döulah’s. This last had been a Kenchéni at Delhi, i.e., a dance-girl, from whence her attendance had been supplicated (and this was the expression used) at the Court of M8rsh8d-abad, the request being accompanied by no less than a draught of one lac of rupees. She was, says the amorous Chronicle, of that Capital, a complete Indian beauty; of that right golden hue, so much coveted all over that region, and of that delicacy of person, which weighs only two and twenty seers, or about fifty pounds avoirdupois; a small delicate woman with a cool retreat, being the summum bonum of an Indian. Now, although the women of the Prince’s seraglio were kept with the most scrupulous attention, and Seradj-ed-döulah was the most beauteous youth of his time, yet the Indian beauty fell in love with the Prince’s brother-in-law, Séyd-mahmed-qhan, a very handsome man, as fair as an European, and of such a beauty of features, and stoutness of body, as would have done honor to any company in that part of the world. He was introdnced secretly; and two days after the matter took vent—“And so Miss,” said Seradj-ed-döula, “I find you are a whore.” “And why not?” answered the poor woman in despair, who at once foresaw her impending fate; “that word indeed might prove a reproach to your mother, but none to me; I am so by trade.” She was shut up in a closet, and the door was walled up; and three months after, she was found dried up to a skeleton, but not offensive. The translator has sent to England several of her portraits.
↩The translator has seen those oxen, for they were given two years after by Mir-djaafer-qhan to M. Wats; and he had the curiosity to measure their amazing bulk and height. He approached close to them, and endeavoured, but in vain, to reach the top of the bunch upon their shoulders with the tip of his middle finger, which fell short by full half a foot. They were of the right G8djrati breed, white as snow, and quite gentle, and had cost twelve hundred rupees the couple.
↩Those enemies, i.e., those he held as such, were Hossëin-c8li-qhan, and Bahader-aaly-qhan, in the sequel hacked to pieces; but his great adversary was his own uncle, Sáyd-ahmed-qhan, once Viceroy of Azim-abad, and now of P8rania.
↩It must be observed that the wall being only of earth, and the immense rains that fall every year having greatly damaged it in a country, where they never think of repairs, but at the last extremity, it was no very difficult matter to find some easy ascent.
↩Military men in India, that is, as many as can afford it, or are willing, wear a variety of cuirasses, of cotton, raw-silk, and also of steel (these last are made up of four pieces sliding upon each other). But common soldiers wear an ample surcoat thick quilted with cotton, that descends as far as the knees. These coats deaden the stroke of a sabre, embarrass the point of an arrow; and above all, keep the body cool, by intercepting the intenseness of the rays of the sun, which then diverge, and cease to burn and to enflame.
↩Gravity before one’s Sovereign and Lord would be deemed indecent in the Tartarian notions which the Moghols have imported into India; and to-day no man can approach the Turkish Emperor, but with a brisk pace, and also in boots so as to appear his soldier.
↩The Mahometans have such a high opinion of Jesus Christ, whom they believe to have preached nothing else but pure Mussulmanism, that they say that dead corpses that happened to be within reach of his breath, at once rose into existence and received life again.
↩It is incredible, but true, that physicians in India never suffered their patients to shift, and clean themselves, but when they have totally overcome their distemper; a practice that cannot fail to destroy an infinity of people.
↩This expression may be rendered by the words composer of the troubles of Religion, or by those of the Lord-negotiator of the Law.
↩This Princess was sister of Amnah-begum (mother to Seradj-ed-döulah) and also of Gahassity-bibi, consort to Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, nephew and son-in-law to Aaly-verdy-qhan. Rabiah-begum was likewise mother to Banni-begum, deceased some years ago; all names celebrated in the amorous chronicle of M8rsh8d-abad, for an infinity of curious adventures that need only a Chaucer, or a lafontaine, or a Bocace. In general the three daughters of Aaly-verdy-qhan, as well as their female posterity, have been lewd to a proverb.
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