In the height of his power and authority, all at once a report was heard that the Prince Farrukh Siyar, son to the martyred 'Azímu-sh Shan, had marched from Bengal towards Bihár, in­tending to revenge his father's death and seize the throne. * * Great numbers of the Imperial servants wished secretly for the success of this rebellion. Zú-l fikár Khán advised Jahándár not to remain more than a week in Dehlí, but to proceed to Ágra, and if necessary to the eastern provinces, as the dread of his power would not be impressed fully in the breasts of his subjects while Farrukh Siyar refused to pay allegiance. Jahándár Sháh, on his arrival at Dehlí, fascinated by the various luxuries it afforded, forgot the advice of his minister, and chose to remain, indulging himself in low pleasures, moving only from palace to palace, and garden to garden. Kokaltásh Khán and his party persuaded him that the Amíru-l umará had excited this rebellion, and had engaged privately with Farrukh Siyar, to whom he would deliver His Majesty a prisoner, should he prevail upon him to march from the capital. These ideas served to increase the fears of the weak Jahándár Sháh. He would often exclaim, “I did not kill 'Azímu-sh Shán; it was the Amíru-l umará, who must now go and answer the claims of his son for satisfaction.” The other plans of an Emperor who was thus overcome by fear may easily be guessed, and need no explanation. The Amíru-l umará, offended at the distrust of his master, did not attend as he ought to business, but employed his time also in pleasure, and forwarding his own immediate interest.

Saiyid 'Abdu-llah Khán Bárha and his brother Husain 'Alí Khán had gained great honour by their behaviour in the service of A'zam Sháh, after whose death they attached themselves to 'Azímu-sh Shán, by whom they were honoured, the former with the government of Alláhábád, and the latter with that of the province of Bihár. * * 'Abdu-llah Khán pretended gratitude and obedience for the royal favours in order to avoid further trouble from the Court, but which he had resolved to serve no longer than he found necessary. When Farrukh Siyar arrived in Bihár, he was immediately joined by Saiyid Husain 'Alí Khán, who was faithfully attached to him as the son of his patron, 'Azímu-sh Shán.

On the night of the 13th Zí-l ka'da, intelligence was received that the Saiyids had by a countermarch of twenty miles, gained the ford of Gao-ghát, and crossed the river with their advanced corps and all their artillery; also that Farrukh Siyar with his whole army intended to follow next day. * * A little after mid­day the battle began. * * Our troops fell back upon the camp, and great confusion took place. * * Numbers fled, but the Amíru-l umará stood firm, and the enemy was kept long at a stand by his gallantry and steadiness; but he was ill supported, though Saiyid Husain 'Alí Khán fell wounded in the field, and Chhabíla Rám was not more successful in his charge on Kokaltásh Khán. It was now about five o'clock, when affairs were thus doubtful; but just then Saiyid 'Abdu-llah Khán charged Jahándár Sháh, who stood with his troops already alarmed, some distance in the rear of the Amíru-l umará. They scarce waited to be attacked, but broke their line, and fled in confusion on all sides. * * Thus, in the space of a few hours, one government was destroyed and another became possessed of absolute authority. The robe of empire graced the august person of Farrukh Siyar, who sounded the joyful march of triumph.

Though I was not in the service of any one, I remained in the field till the Amíru-l umará had retired, when, thinking it best to provide for my own safety, I entered the city with about a hun­dred persons who sought my protection. * * In the morning I wrote to Saiyid 'Abdu-llah Khán, with whom I was formerly on terms of friendship, expressing my desire of leave to visit him, and to be introduced to the new Emperor. He replied to my letter with kindness, * * and next morning, when Farrukh Siyar entered the city, I was allowed to pay him my respects.

LETTERS OF AURANGZEB.
To Sháh A'zam Sháh.

Health to thee! My heart is near thee. Old age is arrived: weakness subdues me, and strength has forsaken all my members. I came a stranger into this world, and a stranger I depart. I know nothing of myself, what I am, or for what I am destined. The instant which has passed in power hath left only sorrow behind it. I have not been the guardian and protector of the empire. My valuable time has been passed vainly. I had a patron in my own dwelling (conscience), but his glorious light was unseen by my dim sight. Life is not lasting; there is no vestige of departed breath, and all hopes from futurity are lost. The fever has left me; but nothing remains of me but skin and bone. My son (Kám Bakhsh), though gone towards Bíjápúr, is still near; and thou my son are yet nearer. The worthy of esteem, Sháh 'Álam, is far distant; and my grandson ('Azímu-sh Shán), by the orders of God, is arrived near Hindústán. The camp and followers, helpless and alarmed, are like myself, full of alarms, restless as quicksilver. Separated from their lord, they know not if they have a master or not.

I brought nothing into this world, and, except the infirmities of man, carry nothing out. I have a dread for my salvation, and with what torments I may be punished. Though I have strong reliance on the mercies and bounties of God, yet, regarding my actions, fear will not quit me; but when I am gone reflection will not remain. Come then what may, I have launched my vessel in the waves. Though Providence will protect the camp, yet, regarding appearances, the endeavours of my sons are indis­pensably incumbent. Give my last prayers to my grandson (Bedár Bakht), whom I cannot see, but the desire affects me. The Begam (his daughter) appears afflicted; but God is the only judge of hearts. The foolish thoughts of women produce nothing but disappointment. Farewell. Farewell. Farewell.

To the Prince Kám Bakhsh.

My son, nearest to my heart! Though in the height of my power, and by God's permission, I gave you advice, and took with you the greatest pains, yet, as it was not the Divine will, you did not attend with the ear of compliance. Now I depart a stranger, and lament my own insignificance, what does it profit me? I carry with me the fruits of my sins and imperfections. Surprising Providence! I came here alone, and alone I depart. The leader of this caravan hath deserted me. The fever, which troubled me for twelve days, has left me. Wherever I look I see nothing but the Divinity. My fears for the camp and followers are great; but, alas! I know not myself. My back is bent with weakness, and my feet have lost the power of motion. The breath which rose is gone, and has left not even hope behind it. I have committed numerous crimes, and know not with what punishments I may be seized. Though the Protector of mankind will guard the camp, yet care is incum­bent also on the faithful and my sons. When I was alive, no care was taken; and now I am gone, the consequence may be guessed. The guardianship of a people is the trust by God committed to my sons. A'zam Sháh is near. Be cautious that none of the faithful are slain, or that their miseries fall upon my head. I resign you, your mother and son to God, as I myself am going. The agonies of death come upon me fast. Bahádur Sháh is still where he was, and his son is arrived near Hindústán. Bedár Bakht is in Gujarát. Hayátu-n Nissa, who has beheld no afflictions of time till now, is full of sorrows. Regard the Begam as without concern. Údípúr, your mother, was a partner in my illness, and wishes to accompany me in death; but every thing has its appointed time.

The domestics and courtiers, however deceitful, yet must not be ill-treated. It is necessary to gain your views by gentleness and art. Extend your feet no lower than your skirt. The com­plaints of the unpaid troops are as before. Dárá Shukoh, though of much judgment and good understanding, settled large pensions on his people, but paid them ill, and they were ever discontented. I am going. Whatever good or evil I have done, it was for you. Take it not amiss, nor remember what offences I have done unto yourself, that account may not be demanded of me hereafter. No one has seen the departure of his own soul, but I see that mine is departing.