After this villain (the Dewán), by such misrepre­sentations, had turned the mind of the Sultán from the right path, the walls of the city being much battered and breached, the Sultán with an inten­tion to quit the city had his treasure, valuables, and Zenana (Seraglio) and also all his elephants, camels, carriages, &c. kept in readiness to move at the shortest warning, and held a consultation on the subject of his departure with his Amírs. In this council Budruzzamán Khán Nayut, incon­siderately said to the Sultán, “may it please your highness from the circumstance of your departure and that of the ladies, princes, treasury, &c. the courage of your faithful servants will fail, and the bonds of union in the garrison of the capital will be broken asunder.” The Sultán at hearing this looked up towards the heavens, and sighing deeply said, “I am entirely resigned to the will of God, what­ever it may be,” and forthwith abandoned his inten­tion of quitting the capital. The articles packed, however, still remained ready for removal in the treasury. The unfortunate Gházi Khán,* about this time was put to death in prison by the hands of the Sultán’s executioners at the instigation of the same traitor (the Dewán);— in fact, though the walls of the fort were battered down, still, the information was withheld from the Sultán. At length, however, on the twenty seventh of Zi Kad, from some secret source, he became acquainted with the treachery of certain of his servants, and the next morning he wrote with his own hand a list of some of their names, and having folded it up, gave it to Mír Moyinuddín, with instructions to put his orders therein contained into execution that night, (that is to put those named to death) in order to strengthen his government.

The Mír ignorant, or unaware of the tricks played by fortune, and the changeable heavens, opened this paper and perused it in full Durbar. It happened, however, while he was reading it, that a sweeper, or menial servant of the palace, who could read and write, cast his unlucky eye upon the paper and saw the name of the lying Dewán the first in the list. This ill-omened wretch, therefore, immediately reported the circumstance to him, and said this night will be your last (or the night of your burial). At hearing this intelligence, he, the Dewán* kept on the alert at his own quar­ters, and at about mid-day sent for the troops stationed in the works near the breach under pre­tence of distributing their pay among them, and having collected them near the Alí Musjid, remained looking out for what ill-luck might bring forth.

The Sultán on that day, which was the 28th of the month* <Arabic> mounted his horse, and after inspecting the breaches in the wall or defences, ordered a party of pioneers to rebuild and repair them, and having directed his gold embroidered pavilion to be raised on the walls for his reception, returned to the palace, and then retired to the hummum or bath. As the astrologers according to their calculations of the stars had deter­mined that day to be unlucky, they represented to the Sultán, that to mid-day and for seven Ghur­ries (or near two hours) after, was a time extremely unpropitious to him, and also, that a dark cloud overshadowed the fort during that period;— that it would be advisable, therefore, that the Sultán should remain with the army until the evening,* and give alms in the name of God. This pre­diction of the astrologers did not please the Sultán, still, however, in respect to the charitable donations which repel and dissipate misfortune, whether it be earthly or heavenly, he gave orders all should be made ready, and after he had bathed and had left the bath, he presented an elephant with a black Jhool, or caparison, and a quantity of pearls, jewels, gold, and silver, tied up in each of the corners of the capari­son to a Brahman, and a number of poor men and women being assembled, rupees and cloth were distributed among them;— the Sultán then having ordered his dinner to be brought, ate a morsel, and was about to take more, but he was not so fated, for all at once the sound of weeping and wailing reached his ears. He, therefore, inquired of those present what was the cause of the outcry, and it was then made known to him that the faithful and devoted Syud Ghuffar was slain. The Sultán, therefore, immediately left off eating and washed his hands, saying,* “we also shall soon depart,” and then mounted his horse and proceeded by the road of the Postern on the river, which is called in the Kinhiri language, Holi Vuddi, towards the flag or western battery. The Sultán’s enemies, however, who were looking out for opportunities to betray him, as soon as the worthy Syud was slain, made a signal from the fort by holding out white hand­kerchiefs to the English soldiers, who were assembled in the river ready for the assault, informing them of that event, and accordingly at about twenty minutes after mid-day, the European and other regiments mounted the walls by the breach, and before the Sultán’s troops could be collected to man the walls and bastions of that flank of the works, they with but little labour took the fort. The garrison, although they quickly came to the rescue and the repulse of their enemies, and with sword and musket, steadfastly resisted them, still as on all sides so much disorder and confusion reigned, that remedy was hopeless, they mostly threw away their shields and dispersed and left their women and wealth to the soldiers of the enemy, covering their shameless heads with the dust of cowardice and disgrace. It was about the time that the Sultán’s horse and followers arrived near the flag battery, that the lying Dewán followed in the rear and shut up the Postern before men­tioned, blocking it up securely, and thereby closing the road of safety to the pious Sultán, and then under pretence of bringing aid, he mounted his horse and went forth from the fort and arrived at the third gate (of the suburb) of Gunjam, where he desired the gate-keepers to shut the gate as soon as he had passed through; while, however, he was speaking, a man came forward and began to abuse and revile him, saying, “Thou accursed wretch, thou hast delivered a righteous prince up to his enemies, and art thou now saving thyself by flight? I will place the punishment of thy offence by thy side;” this man then with one cut of his sword struck the Dewán off his horse on the ground, and certain other persons present crowding round him soon despatched him, and his impure body was dragged into a place of filth and uncleanness and left there. Mír Moyin uddín being wounded fell into the ditch and died there. Shere Khán Mír Asof, also, was lost in the assault and was never after heard of,— when the Sultán, the refuge of the world saw that the opportunity for a gallant push was lost, (some copies say lost, and some not), and that his servants had evidently betrayed him, he returned to the Postern or sally port, but notwithstanding he gave repeated orders to the guards to open the gate, no one paid the slightest attention to him;— nay, more, Mír Nudím, the Killadár himself, with a number of foot soldiers, was standing at this time on the roof of the gate, but he also abandoned his faith and allegiance, and placing his foot in the path of disloyalty (took no notice of his master).

To be concise, when the storming party firing furiously as they advanced, arrived near the Sultán, he, courageous as a lion, attacked them with the greatest bravery, and although the place* where he stood was very narrow and confined, he still with his matchlock and his sword killed two or three of the enemy, but at length having received several mortal wounds in the face, he drank of the cup of Martyrdom.