ONE of the worst of the wicked practices of Mirzá Abá Bakr was that, having laid down the most strenuous and exacting regulations and observances, he would not be satisfied with anything less than the death of any person who should, in the least degree, infringe them. Having put that person to death for a trifling fault, he would become apprehensive of his tribe and relations, and would persuade himself that they could never be pacified. He would therefore set about their extermination, sparing neither suckling babes nor women with child; but punishing them all, from mature men to the child at the breast, so that after he had been satisfied a thousand times with their death, they died with thankfulness (as has been related before).
In short, towards the end of his life, Mirzá Abá Bakr entrusted his army and all military affairs to Mir Vali, placing the administration of the State and the people in the hands of Sháh Dána Kukildásh. These two men fulfilled their duties with the utmost possible diligence.
As has been briefly stated above, Mir Vali succeeded so thoroughly in driving the Moghuls and Kirghiz out of Aksu and Moghulistán, that for a long time none of them dared come within two or three months' journey of Káshghar.* All the Moghuls crept into Chálish and Turfán, but the Kirghiz were allowed to dwell on this side of Issigh Kul. In the same manner, Mir Vali took entire possession of certain places in Farghána, such as Uzkand (which is the most important [town] of that province), Ush, Mádu, and Jágirák; all of which places lie above Andiján. He also brought under his power much of Karátigin and Badakhshán, and the districts of Balur and Tibet as far as Kashmir. All this was the achievement of Mir Vali.
Before the battle of Tutluk, my uncle endeavoured to bring about a meeting with Mir Vali, in order that they might discuss the terms of a peace. [When Mir Vali heard this] he thought my uncle must be reduced to straits and in despair; thus he might be able to seize him by deception, and send him to Mirzá Abá Bakr as a present. He felt that he could not possibly perform a more worthy or important service. These considerations induced him to assent to the interview. They met at a place agreed on, between two lines of men appointed respectively by either side, and they began to confer together in a manner suitable to the occasion. During the conference, my uncle said to the Amirs who had accompanied Mir Vali: “I have a few words to say to Mir Vali; leave us.” Thereupon the Amirs rose up [and withdrew]; Mir Vali alone remained. The few words were merely a repetition of some civilities relating to Mirzá Abá Bakr, which he had already uttered in the presence of the Amirs. They then separated, and each man returned to his own army. After this, occurred the event [battle] at Tutluk, which weighed down the scale of Mir Vali in the balance of the regulations of Mirzá Abá Bakr. Mirzá Abá Bakr asked the generals who had been present at the interview what had been said; they told him all that had passed, and added: “This is what was said in our presence, but afterwards Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá spoke to Mir Vali in private, and we do not know what he said then.” When, after the battle at Tutluk, Mir Vali came to Mirzá Abá Bakr's presence, the latter asked what Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá had said to him in private, and Mir Vali told him what my uncle had said. Then Mirzá Abá Bakr replied: “But that is exactly what he said before all the others; one does not demand a private interview merely to repeat such things as these.” He said nothing further, but from that moment he began to suspect Mir Vali, thinking: “What Sayyid Muhammad really said to him in private he will not tell me; perhaps he is in league with him, and is planning my ruin.” So he seized Mir Vali and sent him to the Kázik, together with his brothers. Some of them he castrated. And thus did he annihilate all these people for the simple question: “why did Sayyid Muhammad demand a private interview?” and subjected them all to hard punishments and bitter suffering. [Verses] …
This is an instance of Mirzá Abá Bakr's cruelty. Another example is his treatment of Shah Dána Kukildásh, to whom were entrusted the affairs of the State and the people, and the control of the treasury. He, too, had exerted himself to the utmost in the performance of his duties. For example, the flocks of sheep he had collected at the conquest of Káshghar were beyond reckoning, and when by reason of my extreme youth I could not attend to business, and on this account did not attempt to estimate the profits of the booty [then taken], I only know that more than 15,000 sheep fell to my lot. No one on that occasion got a smaller share than myself, of Mirzá Abá Bakr's property. The soldiers who had accompanied the Khán, and the men from the armies of the Mirzá, all received an equally large share; and from this, one can form an estimate of the whole! In the same manner, his cattle and flocks, grain and treasure (which have been mentioned, and will be mentioned again), were so numerous and abundant, that the intellect is incapable of conceiving the quantity that fell to each man. All this had been amassed under the superintendence of Sháh Dána Kukildásh.
After the fall of Mir Vali, the Mirzá's suspicions extended to Sháh Dána Kukildásh, [thinking] that he might say to himself: “Mir Vali was a greater man than I am, yet the Mirzá seized him: perhaps he will seize me too.” These thoughts had never entered Sháh Dána's mind, nor that of anybody else; he, however, seized Sháh Dána upon suspicion, saying [by way of pretext] that Sháh Dána had reduced the value of his property; and there, in front of the seat of judgment [divan-khána], he ordered people to pluck out the whole of his beard and to castrate him; while, as soon as his wounds were healed, he sent him to work [in the Kázik.]
In the places of these two [officers] he set up mean creatures
[arázil] from among the Amirs; and, though he found himself
better off than formerly as regards worldly substance, the affairs
of the army ceased to flourish; for such another commander as
Mir Vali was not readily to be met with. In the meanwhile, the
news of the Khán's march from Andiján to Káshghar received confirmation.
[The Mirzá] immediately proceeded to Káshghar, and
there, in seven days, constructed a citadel, as has been explained
above. By the time it was known that the Khán had reached At-
At this juncture, it was reported that the Khán had reached Tushgu. [Mirzá Abá Bakr] thereupon set out for Yárkand, giving his final injunctions [to the officers] in Yángi-Hisár. He promised the people that he would go and muster an army in Yárkand, and come to their relief. Upon his arrival at Yárkand he at once set about collecting forces. He filled the country with horses and arms. [There was a certain] Ustád Abdál Sháikh, who was a perfect master [ustád], and unrivalled in all kinds of work with hammer and anvil. After the fall of Mir Vali and Sháh Dána Kukildásh, Mirzá Abá Bakr had set up this Shaikh Abdál in the place of Sháh Dána, and I have heard [Shaikh Abdál] say that there were in the Mirzá's armoury 60,000 coats of mail [juba] and 12,000 sets of horse armour [kichim], besides other arms and accoutrements, the number of which may be judged by these figures. But the army itself was composed of peasants, artizans, gardeners, and cultivators of the soil. Upon those he judged the most capable among them, he conferred the rank of Mirzá. A hundred and twenty of them he made his own escort, and the rest all received horses and arms. [Three couplets.]
(1) It takes many a year for the natural stone to become, by the sun's power, a ruby in Badakhshán, or an amethyst in Yemen.
(2) It is many months before a seed of cotton is ready to be made into a robe for a huri, or a shroud for a corpse.
(3) It is many days before a handful of wool from the back of a sheep, becomes a zealot's shirt or a donkey's halter.
…* However this may be, Mirzá Abá Bakr having mustered his army, marched with it to a point two farsákhs distant from Yárkand; thence he detached, and sent in advance, some picked men, who fell in with Khwája Ali Bahádur at Kizil, as has been told above. [Thus we see] that the man who was brought before the Khán at Yángi-Hisár during the siege operations, and who had been tortured to death, spoke the truth. He had deserted at the time when Mirzá Abá Bakr, having led his army two farsákhs out of Yárkand, sent forward the advance guard. The man had reported exactly what he had witnessed.
When Mirzá Abá Bakr had pitched his camp at this spot, he wished to pass his forces in review, but his efforts to do so were in vain. For these Amirs, who had been used all their lives to handling the yoke [yugh], when they now raised the standard [tugh]* and formed in line, thought they were thrashing corn, and got in each other's way; nor could they distinguish between right and left and centre. When their spirited steeds reared and shied, they held on anyhow to the withers, and when, in fear of their lives, they pulled at the bridle, and the horse would rear, the rider would lose his control, and slip back on the horse's haunches. If the animal started off, they would throw up the bridle and fall, like a drop of sweat, to the ground. Their bows got broken, and their arrows fell out [of the quivers]. When Mirzá Abá Bakr saw this kind of horsemanship—such soldiering and such archery—he said: “With such a troop as this, it would be dangerous to try and rob a kitchen-garden” [páliz]; and he returned, dispirited and anxious, to his tent, seriously meditating flight.
Following this, came news that the citadel of Yángi-Hisár had fallen; and when the people of Káshghar heard of that, they too abandoned their citadel and dispersed. On this intelligence reaching the Mirzá, he felt that further delay was useless [and that the hour for flight had come] [Couplet] … Therefore, having packed up the richest of his clothes and his valuables, having divorced his kingdom, and handed Yárkand over to his eldest son, Jahángir Mirzá, he fled. [Verses] …
Jahángir Mirzá, who had passed all his life in seclusion, was of a timorous disposition. Finding himself suddenly placed upon the throne of a disordered State, he did what he was able in the way of government, and then, at the end of five days (hearing that his father was at a distance, and that the enemy were near at hand), set out in flight. He collected all the treasure he could carry off, and issued a general order that every one might take what he wished. Those who were afraid of the Moghuls, accompanied him in his flight. The rest fell upon whatever treasure remained, plundering the granaries and burning, or destroying, property of all kinds.
Four days after the departure of Mirzá Jahángir, Khwája Ali Bahádur arrived with two or three thousand men, and two days later the Khán followed, all of which shall be related presently. Mirzá Jahángir retired to Sánju, which is the frontier on the highroad to Tibet, while Mirzá Abá Bakr went to Khotan. But, seeing no possibility of making a stand in the citadel there, he marched on to Karánghutágh, whither he was followed, in hot pursuit, by a party of Moghuls. As the roads were difficult, it would have been hard—nay, impossible, for him to carry off all the property he had with him; he therefore collected it all together, and set it on fire. I have heard from those who had charge of it, that there were nine hundred mule-loads of embroidered and brocaded garments. Many of them were embroidered in gold in the European, Ottoman [Rumi], and Chinese fashions; while some of the robes were studded with jewels and all kinds of precious stones. All these were consumed in the fire; while his gold and silver vases, cups, and various kinds of ornaments set with jewels, and his saddle-bags filled with gold-dust, he threw from the bridge into the River Ak-Tásh, which flows through the middle of [the valley of] Karánghutágh. He killed his riding horses [tupchák] and mules; then, taking what it was possible to carry on such a road, set out for Tibet.
On reaching Tibet [Ladak], he found that all the forts which he had garrisoned had been abandoned by his men, who had fled in different directions; so that his forts and treasures had again fallen into the hands of the infidels of Tibet. Hence he could do nothing in that country. He could discern no shore of safety from amid the furious waves of hardship and trial, which tossed around him. Mirzá Abá Bakr had now for a space of forty-eight years* so filled the book [of life] with black records, that there was no space left to write anything more. He had devoted all his energies to accumulating earthly goods, and the pen is unable to describe his worldly magnificence. But, although he used ostentatiously to speak of the next world, and to express hopes of attaining it, yet he never performed an action that did not, as it were, open to him a door of hell or shut upon him a gate of paradise. Between himself and paradise was a long road…*
In short, in the fulness of time, he reaped the fruits of his past misdeeds; so that, finding it impossible to remain in Tibet, he preferred death to life. Leaving his family and children there, he departed, saying: “I am going [to give myself up to the Khán]. It is evident that I shall be killed with the poison of oppression. If this happens, bury my body in the sepulchre of my ancestors. Although I have not discharged the duties of kinship towards Sayyid Muhammad Mirzá and Mirza Haidar, I beg you to show them kindness. And if, contrary to my expectations, they should not kill me, I have still a plan [which may be executed].” With such intentions he set out, towards the middle of winter, to visit the Khán. On his way, he met with a party of his own servants, whom my uncle had sent into Tibet to fetch him, threatening them with this and that [penalty] if they did not succeed. When Mirzá Abá Bakr met them, he asked their news; they replied: “We have been sent to find you:” and then they strung together a few lies to try and reassure him. But he did not believe them, and said: “All I want you to do is to take me, living, before the Khán and Sayyid Muhammad; after that, you can do what you please.” They launched out into professions of readiness to comply with his wish. Then, as it was late, having said his night prayers, he went to sleep: and the saying, “Sleep is the brother of Death,” was verified in his case. When he retired to rest, the men of the party consulted together, resolved to cut off his head and carry it to the Khán, [as this would appear an important service] and cause the Khán to place confidence in them.
Bad as he was, these people [should not have] betrayed their charge, and used perfidy in place of good faith. However, they cut off his head while he slept and then returned, as shall be narrated shortly. Thus were all his subjects—prince and pauper, high and low—delivered from his wickedness. [Verses, etc.] …