THE Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ of Amīr Khusrau has often been referred to by the later historians of India. Sir Syed Aḥmad Khān has quoted it in the second volume of his Āsār-us-Sanādid and even Sir Henry Elliot has noticed it in the third volume of his History of India as told by her own Historians. But I doubt if in the six hundred years that have elapsed since its author’s death any one has cared to study the work with the care it deserves. Khusrau’s immortal reputation as the greatest of Indo-Persian poets, was founded essentially on his depth of feeling, his lyric gift and his supremely attractive personality. Scholar, mystic, philosopher, poet, soldier and politician, few people have been able to bring such diverse attributes together. It was the same with his poetry. He composed verses in Arabic, Hindi and Persian; and in the Persian language, to which the mass of his work belongs, he tried his hands at every kind of verse and every form of metre. He was a musician also, and in one of the lines quoted by Daulaṭ Shāh in his Tazkiratu’sh Shu’arā, Khusrau claims that his musical compositions, ‘if they could be written’, would be as voluminous as his verses. Many poets of equal eminence have lived in obscurity and want; but Khusrau was born to fame and had no difficulty in obtaining recognition from his contemporaries. Ziāuddīn Barnī, the historian, who knew Khusrau well, declared him to be ‘the greatest of all poets, ancient and modern; for whereas other poets had excelled in one or two forms of verse—the qitā’, the qasidā, the ghazal, the ruba’ī, or the masnavī—Khusrau was pre-eminent in all. Khusrau’s career was, moreover, as sustained as it was successful. He began his life as a courtier of Malik Chajju Yaghrish Khan, nephew of Sulṭān Ghiāsuddīn Balban. Jalāluddin Khiljī appointed him an officer of the empire, Mash’afdar (Quran keeper) and courtier—in fact, poet laureate—on his accession in 1290; and in spite of all revolutions and dynastic changes, Khusrau held this office till his death in 1325 A.D.
Khusrau’s prolific works include four Ḍiwāns, five metrical romances, five historical romances and two prose works. Two other small books are also attributed to him—the Khāliq Bārī, a versified Hindi-Persian vocabulary, and a brief summary of the conversations of Shaikh Nizāmuddin Auliā in simple and lucid prose. No Indo-Muslim writer has done more to provide livelihood for the poor copyists (kātibs) of the middle ages; voluminous though his works are, posterity has preserved them with sedulous care; and apart from the Khāliq Bārī and the Tughlaq Nama (which Khusrau did not live to revise and complete), they have survived in fairly good condition. Along with the rest, the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ has also been transcribed and retranscribed, though its form and contents were both calculated to drive away the ‘gentle reader’ who did not bring to his task a grave sense of duty and an irrepressible desire to unearth all historic facts, regardless of the time and labour the search might entail. Its manuscripts are not scarce, and as the text would have lost its value in the hands of a careless copyist, due care seems to have been always taken in transcribing it. The real difficulties of the Persian language apart, there are hardly three or four places where it is not possible to put the text right.
The present translation based on the Yule manuscript in the British Museum, was begun and completed by me in the year 1920-21, when, along with my friends, Mr. Abdur Rahman Siddiqi and Mr. Shuaib Qureshi, I was working as a research student under the supervision of Dr. D. S. Margoliouth at Oxford. The Yule manuscript is obviously a modern work and belongs to the early eighteenth century, but a note at the end of the text declares that ‘the original from which this manuscript has been copied was written eleven years after Amīr Khusrau’s death.’ On my return to India, my friend Mr. Hasan Barnī (Advocate, Bulandshahr) placed at my disposal a modern copy of the work which he had got transcribed for himself. I revised the translation with the help of my senior pupils, Mr. S. A. Rashid, Mr. Moinul Haq and Mr. Sultan Hameed. We did not find any substantial difference between the two manuscripts.
The difficulty of translating a book of ornate Persian like the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ can only be appreciated by those who have undertaken similar work. As I look back at the wearisome days and sleepless nights the prosecution of this work has entailed, I cannot help being grateful for the kind and ungrudging help of my revered teacher, Dr. D. S. Margoliouth. Many passages of the translation have been revised by him, and, though the responsibility for the defects is entirely mine, the completion of the task would not have been possible without his guidance and advice. It has been my privilege to sit at the feet of such a master.
In dividing the work into chapters and paragraphs, I have, so far as possible, followed Khusrau’s own lead. In the manuscript the paragraphs and chapter headings, mostly in verse, are written in red ink. Most paragraphs have also been given a verse-heading to tell the reader what allusion and similes he is to look for; I have transferred these verse-headings to the footnotes. Translation of Persian verses has throughout been put in italics.
I have tried to make the translation as accurate as possible and in the attempt to be accurate, I have tried to be as literal as the different forms and traditions of the English and the Persian languages permit. But a literal translation sometimes gives to the English reader an impression which the author never intends, and in such cases I have considered it my duty to translate the ideas of the author rather than his words. It must also be confessed that a number of Khusrau’s verbal tricks or ‘miracles’, puns on words and letters, and scholastic allusions, are absolutely untranslatable, and no good purpose would have been served by a very clumsy translation buttressed by wearisome and uninteresting footnotes. Some of these ‘miracles’ have perforce been omitted, while I have attempted to translate the rest in such manner as was possible. One of the good points of Khusrau’s work is the plentiful dates it contains. In the Persian text, the date is first embodied in a chronogram and is then explained in a simple verse which gives the day, month and year. I have omitted the chronogram and merely translated the date.
I am grateful to Dr. S. Krishnaswami Aiyangar for his scholarly introduction on the historical aspects of the work. The literary character of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ was examined by me in the Introduction to my friend, Mr. Moinul Haq’s edition of the Persian text. It is transcribed here for the reader of the English translation:—
‘Poetry was Amīr Khusrau’s mother-tongue; prose he wrote with difficulty and effort and he would have been well advised to leave that region of literature to more pedestrian intellects. But it was not to be expected that such a consideration would serve to check his exuberant genius. Apart from the introductions to his Ḍiwāns, two of his prose-works, differing in volume and value, have survived. The first, I’jāz-i-Khusravi (Miracles of Khusrau) is a long work in five volumes on figures of speech.viiia It contains every variety of miracle known to the penmen of the age—petitions to high officers composed of vowels only, verses which are Persian if read from right to left, and Arabic if read from left to right, compositions from which all letters with dots are excluded, and many such artificialities of wit and style which may have delighted and consoled the author’s contemporaries, but fail to attract our modern taste. Some of the letters included in the volumes have a solid historical value. An application to a government officer requesting for a post or complaining against the misbehaviour of neighbours was sure to attract attention if drafted by Khusrau; and the poet was too inventive not to have a new ‘miracle’ ready for every occasion. It is easy to understand that supplicants flocked to his door.viiib He seems also to have beguiled his leisure hours in discovering new literary tricks and often sent them as presents to his friends. The I’jāz-i-Khusravi is the accumulated mass of these miraculous prose compositions which Amīr Khusrau had been amassing for years and edited in the later part of Alāuddīn’s reign. Most of the pieces are tiresome and frivolous, but others throw a brilliant light on the social life of the day. Amīr Khusrau’s second prose-work, the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is the official history of Alāuddīn’s campaigns.
‘Amīr Khusrau was a man of wit and humour. His fancies are often brilliant. Nevertheless nothing but a stern sense of duty will induce a modern reader to go through Khusrau’s prose-works in the original. His style is artificial in the extreme; the similes and metaphors are sometimes too puerile for a school-boy; at other places the connecting link between the ideas (if present at all) is hard to discover. Prose is the natural speech of man for ordinary occasions, but Amīr Khusrau’s ideas seem to have come to him in a versified form. So while his poetry has all the beauties of an excellent prose, his prose has all the artificiality of very bad verse; it is jejune, insipid, tasteless and wearisome.
‘Failing to realise that the true beauty of prose lies in its being simple, direct and effective, he tries to surprise his readers by a new trick at every turn, attacks him with words the meaning of which he is not likely to know, or offers him metaphors and similes calculated to shock and disgust. His one desire is to convince the reader of his own mental power and in this, so far as contemporaries were concerned, he certainly succeeded. But Amīr Khusrau, for all his artistic talents, never comprehended that a book of prose, like a volume of verse, should be a thing of beauty and of joy.
‘The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ very well illustrates the general character of Khusrau’s prose. It is divided into small paragraphs; every paragraph has a heading informing the reader what allusions he is going to find in the next few lines. A single example will suffice. “Allusions to water. If the stream of my life was given the good news of eternal existence, even then I would not offer the thirsty and drink except the praises of the Second Alexander.ixa But as I find that human life is such that in the end we have to wash our hands off it, the fountain of words will only enable the reader to moisten his lips. Since the achievement of my life-time, from the cradle to the grave, cannot be more than this, I did not think it proper to plunge to the bottom of endless oceans, but have contented myself with a small quantity of the water of life.” And so it goes on, wearisome and artificial, from beginning to end.
‘It is obvious that such a procedure detracted much from the value of an historical work. Only such facts could be stated as permitted Khusrau to bring in the allusion; the rest could be only partially stated or had to be suppressed; Khusrau’s only resource was to make his paragraphs as small as possible, otherwise his prose would have marched along routes quite different from those selected by Alāuddīn’s generals. The reader, who wishes to discover the true historical fact, has first to analyse Khusrau’s literary tricks and critically separate the element of fact from the colouring imparted to it by Khusrau in order to bring in the allusions. At times the literary tricks induces us to ignore the fact at the bottom. “Allusion to virtue and vice—Though the giving of water (to the thirsty) is one of the most notable virtues of this (pure-minded) Emperor, yet he has removed wine and all its accompaniments from vicious assemblies; for wine the daughter of grape and the sister of sugar, is the mother of all wickedness. And wine on her part, has washed herself with salt and sworn that she will henceforth remain in the form of vinegar, freeing herself from all evils out of regard for the claims of salt.”xa
‘This would have appeared a mere literary flourish if we had not been definitely told by Ziāuddin Bārni, that Alāuddīn carried through a series of harsh measures for the suppression of drinking in Delhi. Conversely, the allusion may have no basis of fact at all. “Allusions to sea and rain—The sword of the righteous monarch completely conquered the province (Gujrat). Much blood was shed. A general invitation was issued to all the beasts and birds of the forest to a continuous feast of meat and drink. In the marriage banquet, at which the Hindus were sacrificed, animals of all kinds ate them to their satisfaction.” This would seem to indicate a general and intentional massacre. But there was no such massacre, and Khusrau himself goes on to assure us: “My object in this simile is not real blood but (only to show) that the sword of Islam purified the land as the sun purifies the earth.” The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ has to be interpreted with care, and in the light of other contemporary material, it would be dangerous and misleading to accept Khusrau’s accounts at their face value. Still the labour of interpretation is well repaid by the new facts we discover.
‘The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ naturally falls into six parts—the introduction, administrative reforms and public works, campaigns against the Mongols, the conquest of Hindustan, the campaign of Warangal and the campaign of Ma’bar. The space devoted to the various sections is surprisingly unequal. About two-third of the book is devoted to the Warangal and Ma’bar campaigns, while the other measures of Alāuddīn’s reign are summarized in the remaining third. The reason for this is, perhaps, not impossible to discover. A remark of Barni (Tarikh-i-Firoz-Shahi, page 361) seems to throw light on the real character of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ as well as the Tarikh-i-Feroz-Shahi. “The other great historian of the time (of Sultan Alāuddīn) was Kabīruddīn, son of Tajuddīn Irāqi. In the art of composition, eloquence and advice, he exceeded his own and Alāuddīn’s contemporaries, and became the Amir-i-dad-i lashkar in place of his revered father. He was held in great honour by Alāuddīn. He has displayed wonders in Arabic and Persian prose. In the Fath-i Nama (Book of Victory) which consists of several volumes, he does honour to the traditions of prose and seems to surpass all writers, ancient and modern. But of all the events of Alāuddīn’s reign, he has confined himself to a narration of the Sultan’s conquests; these he has praised with exaggeration and adorned with figures of speech, and he has departed from the tradition of those historians who relate the good as well as the bad actions of every man. And as he wrote the history of Alāuddīn during that Sultan’s reign and every volume of it was presented to the Sultan, it was impossible for him to refrain from praising that terrible king or to speak of anything but his greatness.”
‘So Amīr Khusrau, though the poet-laureate, was not the court-historian of Alāuddīn Khilji; that honour belonged to Kabīruddīn who was considered to be the greatest prose writer of the day. The official history by which Alāuddīn expected to be remembered by posterity was not the thin volume of Amīr Khusrau but the ponderous Fath-i Nama which was prepared under the Sultan’s personal supervision. The Fath-i Nama has disappeared; its manuscripts may have been intentionally destroyed during Timur’s invasions or under the early Moghul Emperors, for it must have been full of contempt and hatred for the Mongol barbarians;xia Ferishta and other later historians do not refer to it and its great length would, in any case, have made its preservation difficult. But Barni and Khusrau had the Fath-i Nama before them and accommodated their histories to it. Barni, who was essentially a man of civil life, allowed Kabīruddīn to speak of Alāuddīn’s conquests, and confined his own history to an account of administrative and political affairs, merely adding a paragraph on the campaigns here and there for the logical completeness of his work. Amīr Khusrau was more ambitious. He pitted himself against Kabīruddīn’s great, if transient, reputation and on Kabīruddīn’s own chosen ground. Hitherto his pen, “like a tire-woman, had generally curled the hair of her maidens in verse,” but it would now bring “pages of prose for the high festival.” Let not critics dismiss him as a mere poet, living in a mock paradise and incapable of describing the affairs of government and war. If he had wings to fly, he had also feet to walk. He would even surpass Kabīruddīn, whom shallow critics considered “the greatest of all prosaists, ancient and modern.” He would excel in all that Kabīruddīn had excelled. The four virtues (or defects) which Barnī deploringly attributes to Kabīruddīn are all painfully present in Khusrau’s work—an artificial style adorned with figures of speech, an exclusive devotion to wars and conquests, the elimination of all facts that were not complimentary to Alāuddīn, and, lastly, an exaggerated flattery of the Sultan. In the Panj Gunj Khusrau had imitated the Khamsah of Nizāmī and walked as far as possible in his predecessor’s foot-steps. It was a mistake, but he repeated it once more in the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ. We do not see Khusrau’s prose in its natural dress; it is draped and disfigured into an imitation of Kabīruddīn’s extinct composition. For Amīr Khusrau, if a scholar, was also a courtier, and a courtier is devoted to the fashion of the passing hour. The fashion had been set by Kabīruddīn and his predecessors. Khusrau blindly followed it.
‘The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is not merely a challenge to the Fath-i Nama of Kabīruddīn; it is also a continuation of that work. Barnī seems to imply that Kabīruddīn was a survivor from the preceding age and he may not have lived to complete his voluminous work. If so, the disproportionate length of the Deccan campaigns in the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ becomes intelligible. The Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is essentially a history of the Deccan invasions. Alāuddīn may have asked Khusrau to continue Kabīruddīn’s work, but Khusrau’s introductory remarks make it probable that he wrote on his own initiative and expected the Sultan to accept it as the official account of the reign. The Fath-i Nama had made a detailed description of the earlier events unnecessary, and Khusrau merely summarises them to enable his book to stand on its own feet. But the Deccan campaigns are given in detail, probably after the manner of the extinct Fath-i Nama.
‘Amīr Khusrau wished his work to be an official account of Alāuddīn’s reign and the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ has, consequently, all the merits and defects of a government publication. It credits Alāuddīn with every variety of virtue and power, and his officers also come in for their due share. All governments live on lies or, at least, a partial suppression of truth. But Amīr Khusrau’s hyperbolic exaggerations are less deceptive and dangerous than the insidious propaganda of modern governments. His flattery neither deceived nor was intended to deceive; it was simply a current fashion and nobody attached any significance to such words. Exaggeration is not a commendable habit, but understand it as a habit and it will no longer veil the true meaning of the author.
‘Ziāuddin Barni complains that Kabīruddīn simply confined himself to those events which were creditable to Alāuddīn. This is certainly true of Khusrau’s work. He will not utter a lie but neither will he speak “the truth and the whole truth”. On the 16th Ramzan, 695 (July 9, 1296 A.D.) Sultan Jalāluddīn was assassinated on the bank of the Ganges by the order of Alāuddīn Khiljī, who was the Governor of Karrā. It was an atrocious murder but Amīr Khusrau simply ignores it. “As Providence had ordained that this Muslim Moses was to seize their powerful swords from all infidel Pharoahs … he mounted the throne on Wednesday, 16th Ramzan, 695 A.H.” What else was there to say. He was not brave enough to defend his murdered patron nor mean enough to blacken his character after his death. He simply turned away his eyes. Similar omissions strike us in the chapter on the Mongols. Nothing is said of the campaigns in which Alāuddīn’s armies were defeated. The Mongols twice besieged Delhi and Alāuddīn’s position was extremely critical.xiiia But Khusrau has not even indirectly alluded to these momentous events. We are able to make up for some of the omissions with the help of Barni and other historians, but it is difficult to be certain that all the gaps have been filled up.
‘In spite of these serious shortcomings, the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is for the critical student, a book of solid worth. Amīr Khusrau exaggerates and we can make allowance for his exaggerations. He leaves blanks which other historians enable us to fill up. But he is too honest and straightforward to speak a lie, and we can safely rely upon his word. He is exact in details and dates and enables us to make a fairly complete chronology of Alāuddīn’s reign.xiiib In spite of the artificiality of his style, his descriptions have vivid touches of an eye-witness. As a soldier he felt quite at home in military affairs, in the construction of siege-engines and the tactics of the battle-field. A careful examination of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ will enable us to obtain a fairly good idea of the art of war in the early middle ages. Even where he tells us nothing new, he serves to confirm the accounts of others. He did not sit and brood in a corner. He mingled with the highest and the greatest in the land, and when he took up his pen, it was to write with a first hand knowledge of affairs. The sections on the Deccan campaigns are a permanent contribution to Indian historical literature. Nor is the element of romance absent, whatever we may think of the motives of the invaders, long and heroic marches across “paths more uneven than a camel’s back,” temples plundered, Rajas subdued and the hoarded wealth of centuries brought at a sweepstake to the terrible Sultan of Delhī. It was a mad dance of rapine, ambition and death. “The Hindu rawats came riding in troops but were laid low before the Turkish horses. A deluge of water and blood flowed forward in order to plead for mercy before the Caliph’s troops. Or, you may have said that owing to the great happiness of the infidel souls, the beverage of blood was so delicious that every time the cloud rained water over it, the ferocious earth drank it up with the greatest pleasure. But in spite of the great intoxicating power of this wine, the saqi poured her clear liquid out of the flagon of the sky to increase its intoxication further. Out of this wine and beverage Death had manufactured her first delicious draught. Next you saw bones on the Earth.”
‘If Amīr Khusrau had been writing in the age of the Puranas, he would have represented Alāuddīn as an incarnation of Vishṇu and described his opponents as malicious demons. That is how the Aryans blackened the character of their enemies and justified their aggression. A modern writer would have to white-wash the same cruelties by talking of liberty, justice, the duty of elevating backward races and, with solemn unconscious humour, advanced the most humane arguments to justify the inhumanities of war. But Amīr Khusrau was not a hypocrite; he saw life through plain glasses and the traditions of his day made hypocrisy unnecessary. The Deccan expeditions had one clear object—the acquisition of horses, elephants, jewels, gold and silver. Why tell lies? The Mussalmans had not gone there on a religious mission; they had neither the time nor the inclination to enrol converts and they were too good soldiers to let irrelevant considerations disturb their military plans. Of course the name of God was solemnly pronounced. The invaders built mosques wherever they went and the call to prayer resounded in many a wilderness and many a desolated town. This was their habit. Of anything like an idealistic, even a fanatic, religious mission the Deccan invasions were completely innocent.
‘But it would be a serious mistake to interpret the political movements of those days in the light of modern national feeling or the religious enthusiasm of the early Saracens. The fundamental social and political principle of the Middle ages was loyalty to the salt. It overrode all racial, communal and religious considerations. The Raja’s Muslim servants followed him against the Sultan just as the Sultan’s Hindu servants followed him against the Raja; neither felt any inner contradiction between their religion and their life. Loyalty to the salt (namak halālī) was synonymous with patriotism; disloyalty to the salt (namak harāmī) was a crime blacker than treason. Irrational as the principle may seem, it prevented communal friction and worked for peace. Conversely, for the ruler all his subjects stood on an equal footing. The Hindu subjects of a neighbouring Raja were the proper and inviting objects of a holy war. But not so the Sultan’s own Hindu subjects. They were under his protection and his prosperity depended upon their prosperity. Learned writers may call them zimmis (payers of tribute) in books of religious law. But men of practical affairs knew the ground they stood on and the power of the mass of the people. The temples in the Sultan’s dominions were perfectly safe. “It is not permissible to injure a temple of long standing” was the fatwa (judgment) of a Qazi in the reign of Sikandar Lodi, and it undoubtedly expresses medieval Muslim sentiment on the matter. The Sultan could prohibit the building of a new temple or mosque, though, apart from occasionl vagaries, the right was rarely exercised; but the destruction of a standing temple is seldom, if ever, heard of. It was, however, different with a temple standing in the dominion of another ruler; it had no Imperial guarantee to protect it and could be plundered with impunity, because its devotees were not the Sultan’s subjects and their disloyalty and sufferings could do him no harm. The outlook of the age was essentially secular. Religion was a war cry and nothing more.
‘A superficial reader of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ might be inclined to think it inspired by bigotry and fanaticism. But this would be a serious error. Amīr Khusrau’s religious outlook was singularly tolerant; an examination of his Diwāns can leave no other impression on the critic’s mind. Even in the most bitter expressions of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ, there is a veiled suggestion. Of what? “So the temple of Somnath was made to bow towards the Holy Mecca, and as the temple lowered its head and jumped into the sea, you may say the building first said its prayers and then had a bath. The idols, that had fixed their abode midway to the House of Abraham (Mecca) and way-laid stragglers, were broken to pieces in pursuance of Abraham’s traditions. But one idol, the greatest of them all, was sent by the maliks to the Imperial Court, so that the breaking of their helpless god may be demonstrated to the idol-worshipping Hindus.” “They saw a building (the temple of Barmatpuri) old and strong as the infidelity of Satan, and enchanting like the allurements of worldly life. You might say it was the Paradise of Shadād, which after being lost, those hellites had found, or that it was the golden Lankā of Rām… The foundations of this golden temple, which was the ‘holy-place’ of the Hindus, were dug up with the greatest care. The glorifiers of God broke the infidel building, so that ‘spiritual birds’ descended down like pigeons from the air. The ‘ears’ of the wall opened at the sound of the spade. At its call the sword also raised its head from the scabbard, and the heads of Brahmans and idol-worshippers came dancing to their feet at the flashes of the sword. The golden bricks rolled down and brought with them their plaster of sandal-wood; the yellow gold became red with blood and the white sandal turned scarlet. The sword flashed where the jewels had once been sparkling; where mire used to be created by rose water and musk, there was now a mud of blood and dirt; the saffron-coloured doors and walls assumed the colour of bronze; the stench of blood was emitted by ground once fragrant with musk. And at this smell the men of Faith were intoxicated and the men of Infidelity ruined.”
‘Is this the trumpet-call of an aggressive and bloated fanaticism or the excruciating melody of the tragic muse? Was Amīr Khusrau praising the idol-breakers or bewailing their lack of true faith? It must not be forgotten that a courtier presenting an official history to the Sultan had no freedom either of opinion or speech; and Amīr Khusrau emphatically expresses his willingness to recast his book according to the Sultan’s wishes. But as Mohammed ibn-i Khawend Shah (Mirkhond), the author of Rauzatus Safa, remarks: “the official historian should by hints, insinuations, overpraise and such other devices as may come to hand, never fail to express his true opinion, which, while remaining undetected by his illiterate patron, is sure to be understood by the intelligent and the wise.” Amīr Khusrau had no liking for Malik Naib Kafur-i Sultani whom he abuses in the Dewal Rani, and his keen sense for the religious and poetic elements in life could not but revolt against the senseless vandalism of the Deccan campaigns. Hence the ghastly realism of his sketches. He may, or may not, have wept tears of blood over the fall of an ancient civilization; but his mode of expression leaves little doubt that the greed of gain and not the service of the Lord was the inspiring motive of the invaders. One thing alone was clear after the day of stormy battle: “You saw bones on the Earth.”’
| NILI CHATRI, ALIGARH | MUHAMMAD HABIB |
| May 27, 1931 |
THE Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ of Amīr Khusrau, of which the following pages contain a more or less complete translation by Professor Md. Habib of the Muslim University, Aligarh, is perhaps historically the most important work of Amīr Khusrau. As Professor Habib points out in the course of the translation itself, and in a life of Amīr Khusrau written by him and published by Messrs. Taraporevala Sons & Co., Bombay, the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is a prose work of a rather peculiar character. Khusrau finds his natural element in poetry, and the writing of prose to him was a work of effort; and, as in the case of the Sanskrit writer Bāṇa, this prose composition is a tour de force intended to exhibit the literary strength of the author, rather than one intended to give pleasure to the reader as a work of art, or to convey information in an easily understandable form. As a work of history therefore, it might seem at first sight to be of comparatively less value than works of a similar character by other authors in Persian. Allowing for all the drawbacks that its literary character carries along with it, the work of Professor Habib exhibits it still as a valuable source of history much as recent research has done in respect of the Harshacharita of Bāṇa.
There is another defect in this work of Amīr Khusrau from the point of view of the student of history. Like so much else that we are possessed of in Indian literature, this work belongs to the class of panegyrics intended for the eye and the ear of the patron whose achievements form the subject of the composition. It has to dwell naturally upon the creditable achievements of the patrons concerned, and pass lightly over that which is not exactly to the glory of the hero. This, of course, would naturally make it very defective as a historical composition pure and simple. But even so, while it may be dangerous to draw inferences from the silence of the author in regard to particulars, it could still contain much that is of value, sometimes even of very high value, in what it does actually state explicitly. As the learned Professor points out, there are very prominent omissions in this work, such as the invasions of the Mughals, which reached the capital and made its position one for great anxiety. Such events are passed over; and so similarly a few others of the incidents in the reign of Allāuddin are barely alluded to or even completely passed over, as Professor Habib takes occasion to point out in his notes. Notwithstanding these defects, the comparison instituted by Professor Habib in the course of his notes shows that the presentation of historical material in the work is all to the advantage of Amīr Khusrau’s composition which seems really to have been the source from which later historians, including even Amīr Khusrau’s younger contemporary Barni, largely drew. While in particulars these later works serve the purpose of illuminating commentaries on various parts of the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ, yet in respect of several of the important historical events described, correctness and historical probability seem to lie undoubtedly with Amīr Khusrau. The work thus forms typical of a class, not merely of Persian but of Indian works generally, from which historical material of the highest value can be drawn by a careful, critical scholar, notwithstanding the peculiar literary features which make them fall short of being pure history.
It is hardly necessary in this introduction, for which I am indebted to Professor Habib’s esteem and personal regard for me, that I should be traversing the field already so well covered by him. I might take advantage of it to consider the details of the southern campaigns in particular, which remained obscure till within recent times, and which I took it upon myself to expound, with the imperfect material at my disposal at the time, in my Lectures to the University of Madras, on South India and Her Muhammadan Invaders, Lectures 3 and 4. This work, Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ was then available only in the abridged translation given in volume III of Elliot’s History of India as told by her own Historians. A comparative reading would indicate the corrections made by Professor Habib, and there is the additional advantage of having the whole work before us in an excellent edition by the learned Professor. Without undervaluing Elliot’s work in the slightest degree, we may say that there are numbers of places in which the work of Sir Henry Elliot needed amendment.
Amīr Khusrau devotes the first two chapters to the accession and the administrative acts of the reign of Allāuddin, and, as the Professor has pointed out, he has no word to say in condemnation of the atrocious deed by which Allāuddin ascended the throne. But all praise is given to Allāuddin for the administrative measures, several of which do deserve praise from the point of view of the good results produced. In respect of the Mughal invasions, the same shortcoming appears, as is pointed out. It is the invasions that redounded to the credit of Allāuddin and his generals that are described in detail in chapter III. Those that are likely to be less creditable are barely alluded to, or passed over completely. Chapter IV is devoted to the conquest of Western Hindustan, Rajaputana, Malva and Gujarat, and as a next step forward, the invasion of Deogiri. Chapter V is devoted to the campaign of Arangal (Warangal), and chapter VI the campaign in Ma’bar with which this work of Amīr Khusrau is brought to a close. As a matter of fact more than half the work is devoted to the two southern invasions, the invasions of Arangal and Ma’bar, and it may be said that they constitute the primary episodes in this epic of Allāuddin’s. Even Barni, whose account is by far the most useful and the most valuable so far, suffers somewhat from the want of details, as Barni was not anxious to dilate upon the wars and conquests of Allāuddin. It is this work, and we may almost say practically this work alone, that gives a detailed description of these invasions and provides a satisfactory scheme of chronology without which the campaigns can hardly be understood. In the campaigns described in chapter IV against the four places, Gujarat, Rajaputana, Malva and Deogiri, the account given in the Khaẓāin’ul Fuṭūḥ is supplemented by what is found in the Dawal Rani of Amīr Khusrau himself, and by passages translated from the recently published text of Barni. This makes the account as complete and satisfactory as, in our present position with regard to the historical material available, we are entitled to expect. The invasion of Deogiri, and the putting of Ram Deo under tribute as a result of the invasion, the capture of the Gujarat princess Dawal Devi are all described, and the episode is concluded with the restoration of Ram Deo to his territory with perhaps something added to it, as indicating the initiation of what may be regarded as a new policy by Allāuddin of maintaining Hindu rulers in their position, provided they agreed to remain under tribute to the empire. The invasion of Arangal therefore can now be undertaken with the certainty that, in Deogiri, there was a staunch ally, who could be depended upon for such support and assistance as may be required by the invading army.
The army of invasion left Delhi for Warangal on the 25th Jamādīul Awwal 709 A.H., corresponding to Friday, October 31, 1309. After nine days’ march, the invading army arrived at a place called Masudpur on the 6th Jamādīus Ṯānī, corresponding to Monday, November 19, or Tuesday the 11th according as we take the week-day or the date as the correct one. The march lay through uneven country of mountains and hills, full of brambles and bushes. In fact it had to thread its way through a forest country. After six days of such marching, crossing five rivers, Jun, Chambal, Kunwari, Binas and Bhoji at the fords, the army arrived at Sultanpur, otherwise called Irijpur, where it halted for four days. It broke camp again on the 19th of the Jamādīus Ṯānī, corresponding to Monday, November 24, 1309, and it had to pass through mountainous country again and through rough roads. After thirteen days of arduous marching, the army arrived at Khanda on the 1st Rajab (5th December 1309). Here a muster of the army was taken lasting fourteen days. They apparently stayed there longer; the month of God, as it was called, was spent there in camp, and the camp broke late in the month as Amīr Khusrau says, the morning ‘after the fast of Mary’. Again it had to march through rivers and forests and the great river Narmada itself had to be crossed. Eight days after crossing the Narmada, the army reached a place called Nīlkanth on the border of Deogiri, the territory of Ram Deo. They made a halt of two days in the place to make enquiries as to the most convenient route by which to march onwards to Warangal. The march began on the 26th Rajab, corresponding to Wednesday, December 31, 1309, or Tuesday the 30th. It again was a march of sixteen days through difficult roads. They had not yet come to the country of Tilang. They were still on the road to Tilang according to Amīr Khusrau. They arrived at the end of their arduous journey at a doab within the borders of which was Basīrāgarh. This is described as enclosed betwen two rivers Yashar and Buji. A diamond mine is said to have existed here. From here Mālik Kāfūr, at the head of a body of select horse marched against the fort of Sarbar, which belonged to the kingdom of Tilang. This fort offered stout resistance, and was not taken till the defenders performed the rite of jauhār and offered desperate defence. This was ultimately overcome, and a brother, Anārīr, of the chief was put in charge of the fort. Apparently the rest of the army had joined by now, and the march was resumed on Saturday, the 10th of Sha‘bān, corresponding to Tuesday, January 1310, if the 10th of Sha‘bān is taken as correct, or Saturday, the 7th if Saturday is to be taken as correct, and on the 16th of the month the army arrived at the village called Kūnarbal. An advance party of a thousand cavalry was sent forward to make a reconnaissance and capture some from whom information could be got. From Amīr Khusrau’s description Kūnarbal must have been quite close to Warangal as, after getting some information, the whole army was able to occupy the hill of Anamkonda from which they could see the ‘gardens of Arangal’. A camp was erected for the army on the 15th of Sha‘bān in front of the fort, and arrangements were made for laying siege to the fort itself. Each tumān (division of a ten thousand) of the army was assigned 12 hundred yards round the Fort, and, according to Amīr Khusrau, the total circumference of the fort was 12,546 yards. This would mean that the invading army was over 100,000 in number. After a difficult siege lasting for a considerable period of time with night attacks and counter attacks, the enemy was overcome, and the outer fort was taken after effecting a breach 100 yards wide. On Tuesday, the 11th Rajab, the storming attack began. On Sunday, the 13th Rajab, really Sunday, February 14, 1310, an impression was made upon the mud walls and by the following Wednesday the mud wall was broken through and the inner fort was in turn besieged. While this siege was in progress, Rai Ludder Dev (Prataparudra Deva II) sent to offer terms, and the terms were accepted. After taking a very large amount of treasure given by the Raja together with the elephants, horses and such other war equipment, the Raja was put under tribute in accordance with the instructions of Allāuddin, and the invading army could now return. The return march began on 16th Shawwāl, corresponding to Thursday, March 19, 1310, and turned homewards towards the capital. The whole of the month Ẓil Ḥijja, the month following Shawwāl, is said to have been spent in crossing extensive forests. On the 11th of the following month, Muḥarram A.H. 710, the army reached Delhi. This would be Wednesday, the 10th of June 1310, the total return march having occupied therefore two months and 25 days. Allāuddin held a great durbar in Chautr-i-Nāṣiri on Tuesday, the 24th of Muḥarram, Tuesday, 23rd June 1310. That is according to Amīr Khusrau, the topography and the chronology of the invasion.
The first question that would naturally arise from out of it is what is actually the route taken by the invasion. There is a lead that Amīr Khusrau gives us to determine this point. An invading army starting from Delhi towards the south can choose a number of routes; but, having regard to the fact that the objective here was Telingana, the road taken would naturally be the shortest possible route for this particular objective. An invasion of Telingana, which Amīr Khusrau does not mention, by way of Bengal had turned out to be a failure. So the extreme eastern route is to be taken to have been altogether avoided. The readiest route would be the road going through Bharatpur, Biana, Kota southwards straight to Nagda, the present day railway station, from which there are straight roads to Ujjain and to Dhar, and across the Narmada to the south.
But this route is barred by the consideration that in that part of the journey before Narmada they had to do nine days of marching to reach Mas‘ūdpūr, wherever it was, and it took another six days of very arduous marching crossing five rivers by the fords till at least Irijpur or Sultanpur could be reached. Without knowing where Mas‘ūdpūr lay and what Irijpur or Sultanpur is we could hardly settle this route of march. Mas‘ūdpūr was reached actually nine days after leaving Delhi. That must mean about a hundred to hundred and fifty miles from Delhi. We shall have to locate the place Mas‘ūdpūr somewhere about the region of Bharatpur. It is after reaching Mas‘ūdpūr that the five rivers had to be crossed. So taking that alone into consideration we would not perhaps be wrong in locating the town somewhere near about Bharatpur. The first river crossed is the river Jun. That seems to be the river that passes through Biana to fall into the Jumna, one of its streams being called Banganga, and the other river Gambhir flowing into it, and passing through Biana, not very far from the south of Bharatpur on the road. The next river crossed is given as the river Chambal. Chambal could be crossed over a very great length, and that may not give us anything like a definite lead as to the actual road. The next river is the river Kunwāri. This river luckily happens to be a tributary of the river Chambal, and is of comparatively much shorter length, and therefore its crossing, limits the length through which we shall have to look for the road. Therefore the army could not have taken even the high road leading from Muttra through Bharatpur, Gangapur and Kota to Jhalrapatam and Sitamau. We have to look for the route of this invasion farther to the east of this road. It seems to take us towards Gwalior. Therefore the invading army might have marched through Bharatpur, or might have avoided it and taken the Agra route, proceeding to Dholpur and Gwalior. In the course of this march and before reaching Gwalior, the army would have crossed the three rivers Jun, Chambal and Kunwāri. It is on the road between Gwalior and Sultanpur-Irijpur, that the other two rivers must have been crossed, the two rivers Binas, as it is given there by Amīr Khusrau, and Bhoji. Sir Henry Elliot gives different readings and takes what is written Kunwāri by Amīr Khusrau to be the equivalent of Kuari, which seems quite correct. What he wrote as Beas seems to be, according to the reading of Prof. Habib, Binas. It makes no difference; probably it is the river Sindhu, which must have been crossed, the eastern Sindhu, not the Kali-Sindhu in Rajputana. Elliot therefore is probably right in his identification. But the next river is given as Bhoji, according to the reading of Professor Habib. It was read Bashuji by Elliot, though he gives the alternative Bhoji. Bhoji seems really the correct reading; but what is the river called Bhoji? Elliot of course makes the suggestion that it must be the Bethwa; but was it called Bhoji that Amīr Khusrau could be so specific about its name? It is very likely that, at the time that Amīr Khusrau was writing, it had the name Bhoji, because it was by damming the upper course of this river that the great Bhojpur Lake near Bhopal had been formed; and, while the large lake was still in existence, it is very probable that the stream that brought the superfluous waters of the lake was called Bhoji at least by the people. So it leaves but little room to doubt that the Bhoji river here is the Bethwa and nothing else. Having crossed these, Sultanpur or Irijpur was reached by the army. The road taken therefore seems to be the railway road of to-day along which to a considerable part of it one sees a road also following. It would mean Gwalior, crossing the Sindhu, Jhansi, and from Jhansi crossing the Bethwa to Lalitpur, Etawa, Bhilsa and Bhopal. That is how the railroad passes. Probably there was a road going down that way at least with the possibility of a military road at that time. Six days’ march from not far south of Bharatpur through very difficult roads could not have amounted to more than a hundred miles at the outside, and that would bring us to somewhere near Bhilsa. Bhilsa or Bhopal would mean very near three degrees of latitude. It is somewhere about that region, it may be a little more to the north than Bhilsa itself, that we shall have to locate Sultanpur or Irijpur at. One is able to see nothing corresponding to it on the maps, unless we take it to be Sagar; but that is going too far east for the purposes of a march towards Warangal. Bhopal would be going a little far too south, and would perhaps put it beyond the actual point reached. Barni mentions Chanderi as the place where the muster of the army was held, and where the auxiliaries from Hindustan came and joined the main army. It is just possible that the halt of four days at Sultanpur was due to this cause, and Chanderi or region near about was either Irijpur or Sultanpur. But then Chanderi could be reached without crossing the Bethwa; but a route could be taken which necessitated the crossing of the Bethwa to reach Chanderi. Somewhere about that region therefore would be Sultanpur-Irijpur. There is a place marked Babina about 12 to 15 miles of Gwalior wherefrom you can take a small road to Chanderi without crossing the Bethwa. If on the contrary the high road to Lalitpur be taken, one has to cross the Bethwa before long. At Talbahat on this road, a smaller road branches off to Chanderi crossing the Bethwa again. This probably was the road taken.
There is a four days’ halt provided at Sultanpur in Amīr Khusrau’s account, which might well have been utilised for the purpose indicated in the narrative of Barni. Another thirteen days’ march brought them to Khanda, in all probability the railway junction Kandwa across the Narmada, which it reached on December 5, 1309. The route taken from Chanderi probably was the familiar route of those days towards Sarangpur, thence to Ujjain, thence to Dhar and across farther, while it was open for the army to have taken the route from Sarangpur, perhaps to Indore, and thence across by way of Mandhāta to Kandwa. There they made a great halt, and spent the time of the fast of Mary (Mariam) leaving the place the day after the fast. It took eight days’ march after crossing the Narmada at Mandhāta to reach a place called Nīlkanṭh on the frontier of Deogiri. This place must be somewhere near the river Tapti, the road taking the army through Aṣīrgarh and Burhanpur towards the railway junction of Jalgaom, not very far from Nandurbar, the frontier station of the kingdom of Ram Deo, over which Rai Karan at one time was appointed to rule. Nīlkanṭh was reached on the last day of December 1309. Then there is a long journey of 16 days to bring the army to the next station on the march, which is put down as Bas‘īrāgarh in the doab of two rivers Yashnar and Baruji, or Yashar and Bhuji as in the manuscript used by Professor Habib. The question now is what was the actual route adopted, and in what direction did the army move, for neither of which is there an indication. We are able to locate Nīlkanṭh itself only by guess, and Nīlkanṭh may be somewhere near Burhanpur—not very far in that region. That means the army had been taken over the Vindhya mountains, the Narmada and the Satpura. If Deogiri had been the objective, the route would have lain through Baglana over the Tapti and the hills on the southern side of it. But the main thoroughfares avoid the hilly region, and lead through Burhanpur, Elichpur, Amaraoti, Nagpur and further eastwards, two or three roads crossing the frontier of the present-day Nizam’s Dominions and concentrating on Warangal. It would be a matter of some importance to know where Bas‘īrāgarh was notwithstanding Amīr Khusrau’s taking the trouble to define it as in the doab of two rivers Yashar and Bhuji. There is the additional detail given in Amīr Khusrau’s description that it was a place where diamonds were found in plenty. The road is described as a difficult road, but that is said to be the road to Tilang, and Bas‘īrāgarh is said to have contained a diamond mine. Making use of these details, we ought to follow one of the roads, taken perhaps even by the British armies in the Mahratta wars through Elichpur, Amaraoti and Nagpur; therefrom deflecting south-eastwards towards the frontier of the Nizam’s Dominions one road goes across the Wainganga, and reaches a place which is now-a-days called Wairagarh placed on the bend of a small river which flows into the Wainganga with another stream north of it emptying itself very near. The very name Wairagarh would answer to the description that diamonds were found there. There are two rivers, in fact there are three rivers round about it. The name Bas‘īrāgarh is read by Elliot as Bijanagar. There are places with that name, or something very near on the borders of Berar, but they will not answer the other details of Amīr Khusrau’s description. The recommendation for identifying it with Wairagarh is the actual fact that there is a roadway leading from that straight down into the Nizam’s Dominions by way of Karimnagar towards Warangal. But if Warangal had been the objective, there is a shorter road through Chanda, across the Painganga entering into the Nizam’s Dominions almost about the same region as this other road. Going to Wairagarh would make a slight deviation which may not be impossible, having regard to the possible road conditions six centuries ago. It must be remembered that Mālik Kāfūr left the main body of his troops in Bas‘īrāgarh, and made a dash, as is usual with him, in these southern campaigns that he undertook, upon a place which Amīr Khusrau calls Sarbar. This Sarbar is as near as possible in sound to Sirpur just across the river Painganga which is reachable by roadways now from Chanda across the river, and from where Bas‘īrāgarh is actually situated. The road on the way to Chanda seems to be a bigger road now-a-days; but that does not necessarily mean that it was so in the thirteenth century. Sirpur is set almost on the borders of the Nizam’s Dominions where the Nirmal range of the Sahyadri almost vanishes into plain ground, making the road easy even for an army with heavy equipment. It is straight on a line with Mantani and Warangal; that Mantani on the Godavari was one of those places on the highway northwards from Warangal is referred to as having been visited by Mālik Kāfūr’s contemporary Pratāpa Rudra of Warangal on one of the occasions that he had to go north towards Delhi. Sirpur it seems probable was the frontier post against which Mālik Kāfūr made a cavalry dash. Having mastered possession of this he had the means to learn about the further route to Warangal, and something about the defences of the fort and the resources of its ruler. Probably the main army joined him leisurely at Sarbar, which he left on Saturday, January 7, 1310, and reached Kunarbal in the outskirts of Warangal in the course of a week. In the account of Firishta, the army is said to have reached the pargana of Indur on the frontier of Tilang. The pargana of Indur would be the pargana of Nizamabad of to-day, which place was what was known as Indur. It undoubtedly is on the road from Deogiri to Warangal. Firishta is apparently under a misimpression here, as he takes Mālik Kāfūr’s army to Deogiri itself, whereas both Amīr Khusrau and Barni mention that the army reached only the Deogiri frontier which Amīr Khusrau precisely locates at Nīlkanṭh, and Barni also states it clearly that it was only the frontier and not the capital of Deogiri that was actually reached. Firishta must therefore be wrong as, if our identification of Sarbar with Sirpur should happen to be correct, the march from Sirpur to the region of Nizamabad would make rather an extensive detour, which it is not likely was made in the actual circumstances of the case, though the possibility is not altogether excluded. The station reached is said to be Kunarbal. Probably it was one of those villages in the near outskirts of Warangal. There is nothing to answer the name Kunarbal, on the maps. But a place Kunar, not far from Warangal, but a little to the south of it by south-west, on the road from Nizamabad is marked on the India Atlas. Even granting that the army marched straight down from Sirpur to Jaktiyal, and therefrom passed on to Warangal through Karimnagar, it is not impossible that a camp was erected a little to the south of the town for other military advantages. Therefrom the operations were continued leading to the fall of Warangal, and the treaty that brought the campaign to a close. The army set forward on its march, on Thursday, March 19, 1310, and reached Delhi on Wednesday, June 10, 1310, taking in all two months and twenty-five days for the return journey. Amīr Khusrau gives no indication of the route taken for the return journey, but Barni notes that the return journey was by the route of Deogiri, Dhar, Jhaiun, which is a clear indication that this is not the route originally taken on the outward journey, though it indicates unmistakably again that this was probably the more usual route. The route of march downwards to Warangal must have been Chanderi, Sarangpur, Indore, Khandwa, etc. The march onwards might have been the more western route crossing the Narmada at Maheswar, Kalghat-Dharampur, as it is called, marching up north to Mandu, from there to Nagda northwards through Kota to Bharatpur, Muttra, Delhi. In this journey it is very probable that the army marched from Warangal on to Deogiri, and passed through Ram Deo’s capital, although it is not stated so in so many words.
The army spent the season of the rains in Delhi and started for the south on the campaign against Ma’bar on November 20, 1310. A muster of the army was taken at Tankal, otherwise written Natgal, on the Jumna, and marching orders were given on the 2nd December following. In one straight march the army came to a place called Katihun in 21 days, and a further 17 days took them to Gurgaom, crossing three rivers of which the biggest was the Narmada. This summary description gives the impression that the route taken was the usual route in which the army met with no incidents of an untoward character. In all probability that route was the route of the return march from Warangal we described above. The army would have come down as far as Muttra, and turned south-westwards along the great highroad through Bharatpur, Savai-Madhopur, Kota, Jhalrapetan as far as Nagda. There is no place that is identifiable with anything like Katihun that Amīr Khusrau speaks of; at any rate, there is nothing satisfactory so far. But having regard to the length of march and the summary description, we may possibly take it that the stage Katihun was somewhere near the region of Nagda. Gurgaom must be located somewhere between Burhanpur and the Tapti, a distance of about five marches from where Deogiri actually is. The road taken this time probably went from the Narmada at Maheswar southwards to Pansemal, from which Nandurbar, Sindkheda and Dhulian and Jalgaom can all be reached across the Tapti; and beyond them lay Chalesgaom, and across the Sahyadri, Deogiri. There is nothing like Gurgaom on the maps in this locality, and we must therefore remain content with not being able to find its modern equivalent. Leaving Gurgaom, the army reached the Tapti, and crossing it reached Deogiri in five marches after leaving Gurgaom, on the 17th Ramzan, equivalent to 8th February 1311. There the army made a halt, and according to Barni, Ram Deo having died and Sankar Dev being the ruler, the malik appointed some one to attend to the needs of the army marching on the further journey. From there five marches took them across the three rivers, Sini, Godavari and Binhur to the place which Amīr Khusrau calls the Kharabābād of a Paras Deo Dalvi. Working on the account of Elliot alone, I took Kharābābad as an actual name of a place. But with the translation before me now it strikes me it is merely Amīr Khusrau’s description where he plays upon an attribute that he himself had given to Deogiri by calling it Almanābad, a city of safety, and by way of contrast, he calls the other Kharābābād, which he gives again to Kandur in the south. That must have been the headquarters of the southern government under the general Parsu Deo, the Dalavai, Parsu being the contracted form of Parasuram. The road starting from Deogiri and going southwards has to cross three rivers whichever way it went. But the usual way in those days seems to have been from Deogiri through the interior towards Bhir, almost straight east of Ahmadnagar, and, across the Balaghat range, to somewhere near Ashti or Kharda, two frontier stations where during the Mahratta wars battles were fought. Marching from there to Barsi and along south by way of Naldurg to Sholapur and thence to Pandarpur. If, as is possible, Sholapur had been the headquarters of Parasuram Deo, the condition that the Bhima was one of the three rivers crossed is not satisfied. But if instead the road taken was from Barsi to Pandarpur, one of the familiar roads, both the Sina and the Bhima would be crossed. Pandarpur was probably the frontier station, and that was the government of Parsudevo Dalvi. We have reference to an inscription of the Hoysala Vīra Sōmēśvara discovered there. It is therefore clear that Pandarpur was the frontier between the two kingdoms of Baḷḷāḷa and Yādava. Therefrom, after holding a council of war, Mālik Kāfūr started at the head of one tuman (a division of ten thousand soldiers), and made a dash upon Dvārasamudra, reaching the place after twelve marches, on the 25th February 1311. Without much of fighting, terms of peace were arranged with Vīra Baḷḷāḷa, not Viranarasinga as stated by Elliot and copied from him by Professor Habib. After the terms of the treaty had been arranged, Mālik Kāfūr probably remained there some time when the main army joined him. After a stay of about twelve days, he left Dvārasamudra on 10th March 1311. Five marches took them to the frontier of Ma’bar. From there two passes had to be crossed, which, according to Professor Habib’s reading, are Tarmali and Tabar. The first according to Elliot’s reading Sarmalai, introduced a certain amount of confusion. Marching through these passes, they came to the bank of a river, which Elliot noted as Kanobari which name Professor Habib says, does not occur in the manuscript. But as a river is mentioned, and, in the next stage of the narrative, it is what is called Kanauri, the river under reference is apparently the Kaveri. There they encamped for the night, and left on the 25th March 1311 towards Birdhul. Unfortunately for us, Amīr Khusrau uses the name Birdhul once for the capital, another time for the ruler, and contributes to make confusion worse confounded. We have to take Birdhul to be the equivalent of Vīra-Chola. That would be all right if it is applied to the capital. But the ruler against whom he went was Vīra Pānḍya, and, in that case, we shall have to take it that the ruler was Bīr or Vīra, ruler of the Chola country for the time being. Amīr Khusrau’s tendency to play upon the word Bir only adds to the confusion. Here the incidents of the war are said to be an attack of Birdhul, Vīra Pānḍya fleeing from there to a place called Kandur on the outskirts of the forests.
Notwithstanding all the destruction that was committed in Kandur, which Amīr Khusrau calls here Kharābābād, which seems to be a term of opprobrium with him and nothing more, the Muhammadan army suspected that Vīra Pānḍya fled to the sea-shore for protection to a fortress of his there, which, according to the reading of Elliot, was given as Jālkoṭa; but Professor Habib’s reading of the manuscript makes it Jāt Kūṭa. Certain people coming from that direction gave the information that Vīra Pānḍya had not gone in that direction; as no information of either the king or of his army was to be had, and as Amīr Khusrau indulges in a pun that Vīra Pānḍya washed his hands off the sea and fled rather to the forests, as offering more satisfactory protection to his army, it is probable Vīra Pānḍya fled towards the Pachamalais on the Salem frontier. The army therefore returned to Kandur, and went forward in search of Vīra Pānḍya through the dense forests surrounding the town. Finding progress impossible they were content to remain at Kandur receiving the submission of the Musalman part of the army left behind. The account of Amīr Khusrau makes it appear, and it may be true as other accounts seem to confirm it more or less, that Mālik Kāfūr was particular about capturing the elephants of the enemy; but so far he was disappointed in not getting possession of as many elephants as he wished to secure, or perhaps as he expected. Just at this juncture information reached him that in a place called Barmatpur—Elliot’s reading Brahmastpur—there was a golden temple and a rich city with temples and idols to be plundered together with some elephants, which they were given to understand were kept there for greater security. The army marched to Barmatpur or Brahmastpur, which, of course, is stated in so many words to be destroyed completely, the images of Śiva and Vishṇu alike being included in the destruction. The whole place seems to have been dug up for buried treasure, and after taking whatever was possible to get, the army was preparing to proceed to the next stage of their work.
On the 11th Zil Qa’d, which seems to correspond to April 1, 1311, they left the Chola country on their march towards Madura. The first stage in the march after four days was a place which the narrative calls Kim here, but which was read Kham by Elliot. Five marches thence they reached Madura, Matra, the ‘dwelling place of the brother of the Rai Sundara Pānḍya.’ The king ‘with his household and all that could be carried, had fled, and the invading army found nothing’ there excepting an empty palace with only three elephants in the temple of Jagannath (Śokkanātha). Mālik Kāfūr’s disappointment was very great. He took possession of the three elephants and sent them all to join the rest of the elephants taken in the course of this invasion; and Amīr Khusrau accounts 512 of such elephants taken so far in this invasion. The anger of the invading general showed itself in destroying by fire both the temple and the palace in the immediate neighbourhood. So far as this account is concerned, the campaign comes to a close here. On Sunday the 4th Zil Ḥijja, which would correspond to the 24th or the 25th of April 1311, the army set forward on the return journey and reached Delhi and presented itself in the durbar of the Sultan on Monday the 29th September 1311, having been five months and two or three days on the return journey. The rest of the account is occupied of course, with the description of the wealth that was carried from the invasion, and what Allāuddīn himself did with the spoils of the war.
Now proceeding to an examination of the route of this invasion, we have already indicated that the road taken this time should have been the high road from Delhi to almost Nagda, from there to Indore, from there to Dhar, across the Narmada to Deogiri; from Deogiri, the army proceeded to Bhir, and thence across on the road to Parenda, from thence southwards to Barsi and across to Pandarpur, the fief of ‘Persdevo’. From there Mālik Kāfūr made a dash at the head of a select and compact body of troops, about ten thousand strong, against Dvārasamudra, Haḷabid of the Hoysalas, under Vīra Baḷḷāḷa. No battle is described, and no battles were obviously fought. But the Baḷḷāḷa submitted and terms of treaty were arranged, sending forward the treaty with the Baḷḷāḷa prince to the headquarters for ratification of the treaty. We must note here that no further campaign is mentioned by Amīr Khusrau, nor is any made of any battle fought, or siege laid in Dvārasamudra. Therefrom five marches took the army to the frontier, by way of the Hoysala country, to that of the Chola-Pānḍya. The dash from Pandarpur upon Dvārasamudra could have been only by one of two well-known routes, either from Pandarpur to Bijapur, and by the eastern road through Anegundi and Hampi straight along as far as Hiriyur in Mysore, and thence to Banawar and Halabid. Returning by the same route as far as Banavar and taking the route to strike the main road at Chikknayakanhalli, the army must have marched forward towards the passes into the Salem District at Hosur; or they must have marched taking the western route through Dvārasamudra and Halabid to Harihar, thence coming down as far as Kadur or even Banavar, and leaving for Dvārasamudra. The main army joined Mālik Kāfūr at Dvārasamudra. From there the road taken was surely the eastern road through Gubbi and Bangalore towards Hosur, Krishnagiri and across the hills in the Salem District. In those days that was a very well-known route, and one of the highways of communication between the country above the ghauts and below. Amīr Khusrau gives us no very particular information possibly because there was nothing interesting that occurred. The whole route lay through the country of Vīra Baḷḷāḷa, and, once a treaty had been entered into, nothing could well have happened worth mentioning. But from Hosur south, it is a new route and it runs through hostile country. Amīr Khusrau mentions two passes; according to Elliot’s reading, the names are Śarmali and Tabar; but Professor Habib’s reading is Tarmali and Tabar. The objective of the invasion seems to have been to strike the Kaveri somewhere. That gives us a little lead where there was actually none. After mentioning the passes the name of the river is given as Kanobari, according to the manuscript of Elliot. But in the manuscript used by Professor Habib, the term Kanobari does not occur; but later on in speaking of their striking camp, the starting point is given as Kanauri, which amounts to as much as mentioning the river before. In both the cases, the river where they came for the night must have been the river Kaveri either on the banks of which, or in the sands of which, they spent the night. The ghat road through Salem leaving Hosur has to pass through Hosur, Krishnagiri, then Dharmapuri on to Salem, Trichengode, Bhavani, across the Kaveri as one route. That is the route taken now-a-days. There is another, Krishnagiri, Dharmapuri, Tāramangalam reaching the banks of the Kaveri higher up than Bhavani perhaps almost opposite the place where now the Meṭṭur dam is being built. Of course, an army marching would certainly see to the facility of crossing the river Kaveri at a place where it can easily be forded. There are two passes here; and whichever of the routes be taken, the army has to pass through Toppur. Toppur is a village where there is a little stream, which is called Toppur river; and as it cuts its way through one of the spurs of the Eastern Ghats, the pass gets the name Toppur pass. It is a well-known place on the road from the plain country into Mysore in days before the railway. There is no need to get through another pass at all if the route through Omalur-Salem be taken; but the mention of a second pass and the definite statement in the account of Amīr Khusrau that there were two passes to cross, give clear indication that the road taken was the other, and probably it is the old ford on the Kaveri at which the river could be crossed with ease to the opposite bank, where in those days there were important towns along which the road ran to the south. Tarmali is probably the Taramangalam river, or the pass a little to the west of Taramangalam. Then after crossing the Kaveri the army left on its march. If they had crossed the Kaveri before marching, which seems to be indicated in the statement of Amīr Khusrau, the road would take them down south as far as Musiri close to the Kaveri, and then the road takes off from the Kaveri into the interior. At Musiri there is even now a well-known ford across the Kaveri. Probably that was a ford even in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Crossing the Kaveri again, although it is not mentioned, the road could be taken on the other side of the Kaveri and the Coleroon to the Chola capital at Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram or Gangaikonḍachōḷapuram, the former of which appears to have been the Pānḍya capital of the Chola country at the time. The route between Musiri and Trichinopoly on the other side of the river would be comparatively inconvenient for an army. There were so many water channels and the country is so thoroughly agricultural that the difficulty would be really great, unless the army had made a detou?? into the interior and marched towards the south to Madura by way o?? Dindigul. The objective being Birdhul, according to Amīr Khusrau, we shall have to fix upon what that is. Undoubtedly that must have been the capital of the Chola country, now the eastern capital of the Pānḍya empire. The capital in those days must have been Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram, which is about six miles to the west of Gangaikonḍachōḷapuram on the highroad to Kumbhakonam on the one side, and Trichinopoly on the other on the northern bank of the Coleroon. That was the capital of the great Pānḍya Māravarman Kulaśēkhara, and records of his reign state that he issued his orders from a garden palace outside the city of Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram. But even this does not bring us any nearer to Birdhul. Since the phonetic approach that we could make to Birdhul is Vīra-Chōḷa, and, as we hear often of halls and palaces bearing names of these princes in some of these cities, such as for instance Muḍikonḍaśoḻan in Gangaikonḍachōḷapuram, it is just possible that this city Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram contained halls which may have been called Vīraśoḻan. Vīraśoḻan was a common name of a large number of princes, and there were two emperors who bore the name, Vīrarājēndra ruling from A.D. 1063 to A.D. 1070, and Kulottunga III not long before the date of the invasion, who had the title Tirubhuvana Vīra. Other indications point closely to that as the centre of the attack. It is not very far from Chidambaram, where often, these princes anointed themselves in the hall of the holy place there, soon after the royal ceremony in the capital. If then Jayamkonḍachōḷapuram is what is to be taken to be the Birdhul, what is Kandur and the forests near about? Kandur is undoubtedly Kaṇṇanūr on the northern bank of the Coleroon about six miles from Śrīrangam across the comparatively big river. Kaṇṇanūr must have been a place of importance at the time, as that happened to be the Hoysala capital down to the time of Vīra Baḷḷāḷa. It was only some years after Vīra Baḷḷāḷa began to rule that the whole of the Hoysala territory above the Ghats and below united into one with Vīra Baḷḷāḷa as ruler. Till then his uncle, and after him that uncle’s son ruled over the country south with their principal capital at Kaṇṇanūr with an alternative which finds mention as Kundāṇi, which is now satisfactorily located in the Baramahals of the Salem District, not very far from Hosur. This Kaṇṇanūr might have been on the way of march towards Vīraśoḻan, but if the invasion went in the first instance to the capital of the country, they might have passed Kaṇṇanūr by. Kaṇṇanūr would otherwise answer to the description given in Amīr Khusrau. It is on the outskirts of the forest almost on three sides except on the side towards Srīrangam. It probably was the centre of a Muhammadan population even before the days of Mālik Kāfūr, as there were a number of places in which Muhammadans were settled for purposes of commerce, at any rate, in the interior, as there were very old settlements of these in a number of places along the coast. Vīra Pānḍya when he was attacked in Birdhul retired after a faint resistance to Kandur, where the Islamic army chased him. But when they went to Kandur, Kharābābād as it is called, they did not find Vīra Pānḍya or his army there. They inferred naturally that he must have gone away in the other direction to another fortress of strength, where he could find efficient protection. According to Amīr Khusrau’s account, it must be a place towards the sea, the sea itself contributing to its defence. According to Elliot’s manuscript, it is Jālkoṭa, but Professor Habib reads it Jāt Kuṭa. There is not much substantial difference in the latter part of the word. Koṭa and Kūta could be easily mistaken in pronunciation. But whether it is Jāt or Jāl would make a substantial difference in sense. With the reading Jāt, it is rather hard to make anything out of it. Jāl, water, may make some sense, and the way that Amīr Khusrau seems to play upon the term sea and the statement that Bir, Vīra Pānḍya washed his hands off the sea, would seem to indicate that perhaps the correcter reading would be Jāl. In such a case, the place would be Jālkōṭa or water fortress, as Amīr Khusrau is actually describing Vīra Pānḍya as having run away for the protection of the sea. This must have been the strong fortress, which, in the centuries following, played an important part, and which in the days of the British used to be called Devacotta, really Tīvukōṭa, the fortress on the island, popularly spoken of as Tīkoṭai, which is at the mouth of the Coleroon, but in those days extending perhaps northwards to a considerable distance into the island which the river has formed there. There used to be a flourishing seaport at the mouth of the Coleroon, which in the days of the Cholas used to be called Jayaṁkonḍa Chōḷapaṭṭinam, or briefly Jayangonḍapaṭṭinam. But the Muhammadan army did not march there having had information that Vīra Pānḍya had not gone in that direction. Their attempt to follow him into the forest proved infeasible, and they had no alternative but to content themselves with what they had been able to do. Perhaps the inevitable elephants had not been secured in number. Timely information came to Mālik Kāfūr that the elephants of Bir were kept in a strong place which Professor Habib reads as Bharmatpur, and which Elliot read as Brahmastpur. Either of the readings would be equivalent of the Hindu Brahmapuri, which I have indicated from the circumstantial account of Amīr Khusrau himself to stand for Brahmapuri-Chidambaram, which according to the account of Amīr Khusrau, Mālik Kāfūr sacked. He destroyed the temples and the idols there, and even dug up the place for buried wealth, having secured some elephants also. He broke camp from this locality and started on the invasion of Madura, Matra, as Amïr Khusrau calls it, and Mardi as Wassaf writes it, more truly catching up the popular name of the town. The first stage in the march which seems to have taken them about four days was mentioned as Kham by Elliot, and Kim by Professor Habib. Either way it does not take us nearer to a satisfactory identification, which may be regarded as certain. We have to remain content with what I stated in my South India and Her Muhammadan Invaders on pages 104-5, that probably it stands for Kaḍambavanam, which would be about sixty miles from Chidambaram. It may have taken five marches to reach it. Another five marches from there, they reached the town of Madura, the habitual capital of the Pānḍyas, even under Vīra Pānḍya. The capital had been evacuated by the ruler who carried away his treasure and household to a place which is mentioned as Mankul, which Elliot attempted to identify with Namakkal. Namakkal is too far out for the purpose. It is there probably the two Mangalams, Mēla (Upper) and Kīḻa (Lower) on the Western Ghats, which may be regarded as places of security. Not finding anything but three elephants, the Muhammadans set fire to the temple itself and taking the three elephants returned making up a total of 512 elephants for this invasion. This is as far as Amīr Khusrau’s account according to the Khaẓā’inul Fuṭūḥ or Tarik-i Alāi takes us.
Before we close this introduction we ought to refer to two minor points which are neither of them mentioned in this account. Firishta is responsible for the statement, given in the portion translated by Professor Habib himself, that Mālik Kāfūr, in the course of his southern invasions, constructed a masjid. It is called Masjid-i-Alāi, Allāuddin’s Mosque, at ‘Sit Band Ramisar’, and adds that the mosque was to be seen existing in his days early in the seventeenth century. The designation Sita Band Ramisar would lead one readily to take it that it is Sētubanda Rāmēśvara, or Ramēśwaram, where a big dam across the sea ascribed to Rama exists. But Firishta’s own description gives the lie direct. He says that the Malik Naib after overcoming Bikal Dev, the Raja of the Carnatic, plundered the country, and it is in that invasion and in that connection that he says that he built a mosque in that country of Carnatik, and later, in the same connection, that the mosque could be seen in that country and describes it as ‘the port of Dur Samandar on the shore of the sea of Ummam’. Sea of Ummam is certainly the Arabian Sea, and the port or Dur Samandar must be a port in the country of Dvārasamudra, that is the Hoyśala country. It cannot therefore refer to Ramēśwaram by any stretch of language. There is no reference to such a thing in the account of Amīr Khusrau, or in the abridged account of Zia Barni. It is just possible that a raid was undertaken towards the west coast. But this has nothing whatever to do with Ramēśwaram in the distant south. That would lead us to the question whether Ramēśwaram, or that region, was ever at all invaded by Mālik Kāfūr. We have seen that Mālik Kāfūr, in the course of these wars, was in the habit of making dashing raids against various places. From the capital of Hoysala a raid to the west coast may seem possible. It is from Pandarpur that he first undertook a raid towards Dvārasamudra. It will be noticed that from the camp of Bas‘īrāgarh, a raid was undertaken against Sarbar on the occasion of the invasion of Warangal. It is not at all unlikely that he sent out a raid, or led it himself from his camp at Madura towards Ramēśwaram as a likely place where the elephants that he wanted so much and the wealth of the Pānḍya might lie hidden. In another work of Amīr Khusrau called Āshika, he speaks of an invasion up to the shores of the sea of Lanka, against the ruler whom he called Pānḍya Guru. He mentioned his capital by the name Faṭan where there was an idol temple. This, in all probability, is no other than Ramēśvarapaṭṭinam, as we may call it now, as well as Periapaṭṭinam and another Paṭṭinam on the opposite coast of India. Excepting for this raid we have no information whatever that Mālik Kāfūr had anything more to do with Ramēśwaram. It may therefore be taken to be that he carried his raids as far as Ramēśwaram. It is hardly possible that he built a mosque there though there might have been one already, and that Firishta’s account is the result of a confusion that the mosque was built at Sētu-Rāmēśwaram when he speaks of the sea of Omman. For a further discussion of this, reference may be made to South India and Her Muhammadan Invaders.
We must close the introduction with pointing out the services that Professor Habib has rendered to students of Indian History by giving such a good translation of this difficult work of Amīr Khusrau, and adding to the translation itself material from other works bearing on the subject, which would enable a student to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion regarding the invasions of the south under Allāuddin. This work needed the doing and we are grateful indeed to Professor Habib for having taken up this work and done it so well.
This book, which contains an account of victories, has been given the title of ‘Khazā‘īnul Futūḥ’ from Heaven.1a All praises are for the Opener, who opened the gates of victories for the religion of Moḥammad and raised his helpers high with Divine assistance: Exalted is His Dignity and Supreme His Kingdom! And blessings on the Prophet of the Sword, who with a sign cut open the moon and the breast, and showed with conclusive proofs: ‘And Allāh did certainly assist you at Badr.’1b And peace to his Family and his pious Companions, who woke up the sleepers with the tongue and the sword. May love for them never cease to cling to our hearts even as victory clings to the sword of the pious Sulṭān of the world! After praises of God in all sincerity, and of the Prophet in particular, the treasury of praises is not deserved by any one except the august Emperor. It will be right if I said in his praise, that he is the exalted sun which illuminates the moon. And he is the Sulṭān of the monarchs of the earth, more brilliant than the sun and moon when they rise! The ‘shadow of God’ over the heads of men! The protector of all creatures from the vicissitudes of time! The crystal sphere of excellence! The exalted sun! ‘Alāuddunyā waddīn! The equal of the sun and moon on high! The light of both the worlds in darkness, etc., etc. Adorned with every exalted virtue, Moḥammad Shāh, the Sulṭān! May God cast his shadow over all things so long as the clouds drop dew over the earth from on high!1c
2a The panegyrist of the ‘Alāī Empire, the servant Khusrau, states that however high his pen may raise its feet and crawl through all the regions of black and white, it is unable to pass the first stage of the Emperor’s praise. But as it was written in the Book of Creation that the pen, which eulogises the Emperor, should come within my fingers ‘like the shooting-star within the crescent or the sun in its constellation,’ Divine kindness, the key to unlimited blessings,—‘and for Allāh are the treasures of Heaven and Earth’—opened to me the gates of His treasures. Gems such as had never been bestowed on Bakhtarī and Abū Tamām were showered on my pages; though every one of them was such as Venus could not afford to purchase, yet none was worthy of being used in praise of the celestial monarch. Nevertheless, since more precious gems were not to be found in the human mind, as a matter of necessity I stringed these in order, expecting that the Emperor will be an ocean of mercy, which throws out nothing that falls into it.
2b I believed that my crooked words, like the offerings of an ant before Solomon’s throne2c (May it rule for ever over men and jins!) will be accepted, for every poem I present to the Emperor, though it be nothing else but a dried up river, is yet filled with water through the stream of his kindness, and, aided by the favourable current, the boats of my mind can float through all the regions of land and sea. Having been drowned in his favours in the past, I am emboldened to proceed further; and having often dived in oceans of poetry and brought out heaps of pearls, I also wished to adorn some pages of prose for the high festival. And even like the effect of the sun on precious stones, the Emperor’s look will turn them into things of value. As my pen, like a tirewoman, has generally curled the hair of her maidens in verse and has seldom shown them in pages of prose, she raises her grateful face to the Emperor: ‘May the august eyes disregard my defect.’2d
3a If the stream of my life was given the good news of eternal existence, even then I would not offer the thirsty any drink except the praises of the Second Alexander.3b But as I find that human life is such that in the end we have to wash our hands off it, the fountain of my words will only enable the reader to moisten his lips. Since the achievement of my life-time, from the cradle to the grave, cannot be more than this, I did not consider it proper to plunge to the bottom of endless oceans but contented myself with a small quantity of the water of life. 3c The mirror of the Second Alexander3d is such that, if totally illuminated, its images cannot be contained by the looking-glass of the sky. How, then, can they appear in the rust-eaten mind of his servant? Still some things, which I have, I will show according to the capacity of my imagination and in such a way as I can,—so that if critics have any doubts about my talents, such doubts may be removed. I hope that when this spotless mirror, in which his virtuous existence has been portrayed, comes before the eyes of the Second Alexander, he will compare it with the original; if it is well constructed and its images are correct, he will place it among his select courtiers; but, if from inartistic or crooked execution, there is anything in it contrary to the picture of fire, he will signify so, in order that I may correct it so far as possible. I hope, however, that he will not turn away his face from it, for then my images will vanish as if they had never been. But I know that a mirror constructed in the reign of Alexander can never be crooked. 3e In this book, known as the Khazā‘īnul Futūḥ, I have only narrated one out of a hundred events from the conquest of Deogīr to the conquest of Arangal. It will be seen in this ‘Chapter of the Iron’3f what Hindū kingdoms have disappeared from the face of the earth, and how far the ‘Word of Light’ has overcome the ‘darkness of infidelity’; so that the success of the Faith may be estimated from the light and the smoke. May the kindness of the Merciful bless the Emperor!
4a I will also narrate some events of the reign of this Caliph, who is Moḥammad in name, Abū Bakr in truthfulness, and Umar in justice. I will show how, like ‘Uṯmān, he has brought the benevolent words of God into the book of realization, how like ‘Alī he has opened the gates of knowledge in the City of Islām, Delhī, with the key of his favour. Through his munificence, which flows like the Tigres, he has raised this Imperial City to the greatness of a new Baghdād. The Abbāsīde standards, which had fallen down owing to great cataclysms, he has in his Caliphate again raised upon foundations of justice.4b Through the exercise of his strong judgment, he has maintained peace in the countries of the world. And in all matters he has sought the aid of, and held fast to Allāh. Strange is his prosperity, for God holds his wishes in special regard! For instance, fire is killed by water the moment the two are united, yet if it crosses his mind that the two elements should be married, the Dīwān-i-Quzā will at once perform the ceremony.4c The powers of nature are so much under his orders, that though the earth is desolated by the wind and the wind is dusty with the earth, yet if he gives the sign, the twain will be united and the guardians of the atmosphere will turn the wind into water and mix it with the earth. If his mind so desires, it is not impossible that opposites should be made to meet!
Here begins the ‘Khazā‘īnul Futūḥ,’ every gem of which is a lamp for the soul. 4d When the breeze of Divine favour began to blow over the wishes of the youthful monarch, not a hundredth part of whose good fortune has been yet realized (May God always strengthen his branches!), many victories blossomed on his sword and spear from the Bihār5a of Lakhnautī to the Bihār of Mālwa. He grew like a tree in the territory of Karra by the bank of the Ganges and threw out his branches (so wide) that he attained to the dignity of the ‘Shadow of God’.5b Wherever in the forest or by the bank of the river, there was a mawās,5c whether in cultivated land or wilderness, he trod it underfoot with his army. Then on Saturday, the 19th Rabī‘ul Akhir, A.H. 695 he moved towards the garden of Deogīr, from which direction the spring comes; and striking its branches like a storm, cleared them of their leaves and fruits. Rām Deo, a tree of noble origin in that garden, had never before been injured by the tempestuous wind of misfortune; but (the Sulṭān) in his anger first uprooted him and then planted him again, so that he once more grew into a green tree. Next, loading his elephants with precious stones as the rainy season clouds (are laden with water), and placing bags of gold, more in quantity than the saman-i-zar5d that grows on the earth, over Bactrian camels and horses5e swift as the wind, he arrived in Karra-Mānikpūr on the 28th of Rajab, A.H. 695. Now that black-headed bulbul, the pen, sings by its scratchings on paper, of the accession of this tall cypress to the throne. From the first day of his accession till now, A.H. 709, whichever way he has turned his bridle under the shadow of the canopy, the odour of his conquests has been disseminated with the winds. Indeed all forts opened at his impetuosity as buds ‘open’ at the blowing of the breeze. 5f I hope from Almighty God that He will for ever preserve the memory of pious kings on the pages of time. And may the excellent virtues of the Emperor be recorded (in this book) in such a way as to become famous throughout the world, and may the pitch of (my) voice rise high enough to drown the drums of Sanjar and Maḥmūd, though in affairs of government and conquests they were great and successful monarchs!6a
Account of the accession of the conquering monarch, the soles of whose feet have brought happiness to the throne. 6b As Providence had ordained that this Moslem Moses was to seize their powerful swords from all infidel Pharaohs and dig out of the earth the immense (Qārūnī) treasures of the rāīs, till the calf-worshipping Hindūs in their hearts began to consider the cow contemptible and the Emperor, with the bow of Shu‘aīb,6c became the shepherd of all his subjects, therefore the deceased Alf Khān6d was sent to him as Aaron had been sent to Moses. The hopeful message came to his ear: ‘We will strengthen your arm with your brother and we will give you both an authority.’ With the auspicious advice of his brother, the Imperial Moses mounted the throne, which was high as the Ṭūr, on Wednesday the 16th Ramazān, A.H. 695. He gave away quintārs after qintārs6e of gold—‘her colour is intensely yellow, giving delight to the beholder’ —to every ignoble person. Every time he opened the palm of his hand to give away some precious pearls, he showed the ‘white hand’ of Moses in generosity. Owing to the scattering of emeralds, it seemed that the meadows of Mānikpūr were inlaid with gems. And as the enemy6f preponderated in strength, both the brothers raised their hands in prayer: ‘O our Lord! Surely we are afraid that he may hasten to do evil to us.’ The heavenly voice replied to give them strength: ‘Fear not, surely I am with you.’ At the appointed time the Emperor reached the precincts of the City.7a But as the ruler of this side, with the pride of Pharaoh in his head, waited for him on the bank of the blue Jamna, the inspiration from Heaven came again to his heart: ‘Fear not, surely you will be the uppermost.’ So relying on his dragon-spear, he came to the precincts of the Imperial Capital. On Monday, 22nd Ẓil Ḥijjah, A.H. 695 the Emperor’s proclamation, ‘Obey my command!’ was heard from east to west. And then owing to his justice he became the shepherd of the people; the wolf in killing goats became like the wolf of Joseph.
If I am allowed, I will show the superiority of good government over the glory of conquests. 7b Every man gifted with the crown of wisdom, if he takes correct judgment for his guide, will after a little cogitation come to the conclusion that the dignity of the ‘ruler’ is superior to that of the ‘conqueror’. For the term ‘ruler’ is rightly applied to Almighty God, while the title of ‘conqueror’ cannot be legitimately used for any but kings of the earth. Philosophers have said that the conquest of the world is with the object of retaining it: the man, who conquers but cannot retain, is in fact himself conquered. And it is inevitable that when he seizes the world, the world should seize him also. This, too, is clear as day to all men that the conquering and keeping of the world is a quality of the sword of the sun; for from east to west the sun brings the earth under the rays of his sword and keeps it. But the mere conqueror is like a flash of lightning; for an instant he seizes the whole world and then immediately disappears. The conqueror of this age (May God strengthen his hand over the Capital and the provinces!) so highly excels in the qualities of the ‘ruler’ as well as the ‘conqueror’, that neither the pen nor the tongue can describe his powers. As a matter of necessity, therefore, I will speak of his virtues in such manner as my capacities allow; and according to the premises stated above, a description of his administrative measures will precede the account of his conquests in the arrangement of this book; so that every item may find a proper place without disturbing the continuity of the narrative. The sock is for the foot and the hat is for the head; the man, who has brains in his head, does not wear his sock over it.8a
Account of the administrative measures that have been promulgated in the reign of the Emperor, who is extremely devoted to this art:—8b The fortunate star of all mankind arose on the day when it was made evident to the Emperor’s enlightened mind: ‘And against these we have given you a clear authority.’8c For when I raise up my eyes, I see that this exalted Dawn8d has a greater love and affection for the sons of Adam than the sun has for the moon and the stars of the sky or the moon for the particles of the earth. In the first place, throughout the Empire, from east to west and from north to south, he has often remitted the tribute from the ra’īyat. Secondly, he has seized from the Hindū rāīs with the blows of his sword, just as the sun absorbs water from the earth, treasures which they had been collecting since the time of Mahrāj and Bikarmājīt, star by star. The public treasury is so full that it can be neither described by the pen of Mercury nor weighed in the balance of Venus. He gives away treasures by the balance of Virgo, so that people, who only possessed copper, are drowned under tankas8e of gold and silver like the Pisces. On the day of the Emperor’s munificence, the Balance in the sky is lighter than the balances on the earth.
Account of the distribution of treasures of gold by elephant-loads and a trifle more:—9a Before this time when Mahmūd, the giver of gold, gave away an elephant-load of gold, his great liberality became famous through the world. But the Emperor distributes gold in a measure which nothing can excel. He has ordered large elephants to be weighed in boats, and the gold-bricks used in weighing them have been given away to the poor. What monarch can rival the prince in whose city treasures, weighed out by elephants, are given away.
Account of the distribution of horses swift as the wind, when every gift consisted of more than a hundred horses:—9b If I were to describe his gifts of horses, the stable of my praises would be unable to include them. Kings are munificent; and the Emperor every day gives away fortunes to the necessitous. It is seldom that he makes a smaller gift than of a hundred or fifty (horses); but if he gives one horse only, it is such that another like it cannot be found. With the blows of his sword he has seized the stables of all the rāīs. Some of these horses he gives to the horse-breakers, so that with the strokes of their whips they may make the horses run as swift as deer. Others are given to the pāīks (footmen) so that they may ride on them with the help of their sharp stirrups. The grooms (mufridān-i-rakāb) are also given horses. In former days the calves of the runners had grown thin from running on foot, but now their feet seldom leave the stirrup. Some horses are given to the amīrs, who formerly owned unbroken colts but now ride horses swift as the wind. As this cloud9c rains horses, there is no doubt that the rose, which was formerly a foot-man, will now come out of the ground on horseback.
Account of his making the means of happiness abundant for everyone, so that no one may be restrained in his enjoyment during the reign:—9d Next, in order to increase the means of livelihood for the general public, he reduced the tax on shop-keepers, who had been selling their wares dear. An honest officer (rāīs) was installed over them to converse with sharp-tongued sellers through the whip of justice and to give the capacity of talking to the dumb (purchasers). Clever inspector (mutafaḥḥis) made full inquiries into the weight of the stones.10a Every dishonest (seller), who used his own black heart for his ‘stone’, had all hardness knocked out of him. Severity and rigour reached such a pitch that all ‘stones’ (weights) were made of iron and their correct weight written upon them; so that if any one gave less than the correct measure, the iron turned into a chain round his neck. If he was impudent still, the chain became a sword and the extreme punishment was meted out to him. When the shop-keepers saw this severity, they did not meddle with the iron-weights; in fact, they considered them to be castles of iron round their hearts and regarded the inscriptions on the weights as amulets for the protection of their souls. You might say that the inscriptions were really not on iron but on hearts of iron. For on hearts such as these the Emperor’s just regulations came as easily as inscriptions on wax and remained as permanently as inscriptions on iron.
Description of the justice meted out in this reign, so that the dragon has become submissive before the ant. 10b If I attempt to describe the justice of the Imperial Court, that two-horned deer, the pen, will have to put a chain round the neck of the lion of meaning.10c Wonderful, indeed, is his justice, when from fear of his punishment mad elephants kneel down before panting ants, and tigers repent of their morning draught of animal blood under his arched sword! His justice has broken the necks and claws of lions and overthrown the power of dog-faced tyrants.10d The head of the pig-eating oppressors hangs low, and the blood of goat-stealing criminals has been shed on the ground like the blood of goats.
Reform of the affairs of nobles and commons—Prohibition of adultery and drink. 10e Though the giving of water (to the thirsty) is one of the most notable virtues of the pious Emperor, yet he has removed wine and all its accompaniments from vicious assemblies; for wine, the daughter of grape and the sister of sugar, is the mother of all wickedness. And wine, on her part, has washed herself with salt and sworn that she will henceforth remain in the form of vinegar, freeing herself from all evils out of regard for the claims of ‘salt’.11a Moreover, all prostitutes, who with their locks under their ears, had broken their chains and stretched their feet, have now been lawfully married. From the ribbon, that tied their hair, they have now turned to the ‘ribbon’ that ties them in marriage. Those whose skirts had obtained a bad reputation, because they earned their living by prostitution, have now been so reformed that they sit in their houses, patching up their skirts with the greatest repentance and rubbing their hands together.11b All the roots of sin and crime have been cut off.
Peace and order during the Emperor’s reign, when no one dare pick up a fallen jewel from the street. 11c Out of regard for all his subjects, this maintainer of peace has so worked with his sharp sword, that from the banks of the river Sind (Indus) to the Seacoast no one has heard the name of robber, thief or pickpocket. Night-prowlers, who formerly used to set villages on fire, now attend to travellers with a lighted lamp. In whatever part of the country a traveller might lose a piece of rope, either the rope is produced or compensation given. Cutpurses, pickpockets and those who dig open graves11d had been busy in their profession from ancient times. But now the sword of punishment has cut off their hands and feet. And if some of them are still sound in body, their hands and feet have become so useless, that you would think they were born without them.
Massacre of blood-sucking magicians, when blood bubbled out of the neck of those whose lips had worked mischief. 11e Blood-sucking magicians —who by the use of (magical) words sharpened their unwise teeth on the flesh of other people’s children and caused a stream of blood to flow, which pleased them greatly—were buried in the earth up to their necks while people threw stones at them. Thus punishment for the blood they had drunk was meted out on their heads. All men have to suffer the agonies of death, but those who drink this wine (i.e., human blood) are thus destroyed.12a
Massacre of the ‘fraternity of incest’ (aṣḥāb-i-ibāḥat), when punishment for their deeds was meted out to them. 12b Next the pious supporter of the sharī‘at ordered all members of the ‘fraternity of incest’ to be brought before him. Truthful inquisitors were appointed to catch everyone of them and make thorough inquiries into their assemblies. It was discovered that among these shameless wretches, mothers had cohabited with their own sons and aunts (mother’s sisters) with their nephews; that the father had taken his daughter for his bride and there had been connection between brothers and sisters. Over the head of all of them, men as well as women, the saw of punishment was drawn… The saw with its heart of iron laughed loudly over their heads in tears of blood. Those, who by a ‘secret stroke’ (Ẓarb-i-pinhān) had become one, were now openly sawed into two, and the soul that had sought union (waṣl) with another soul, was now compelled to leave its own body.12c
Account of the cheapness of corn, when a single ‘dāng’12d turned the scale. 12e As this cloud of generosity is extremely anxious for the public welfare and the comfort and prosperity of nobles and commons, he has kept low the price of grain, from which villagers and citizens derive an equal advantage, during periods when not a drop of rain has fallen from the painted clouds. Whenever the white clouds have had no water left and destruction has stared people in the face, he has cheapened the price of grain for every section of the public by generously opening the royal stores.13a The clouds, consequently, have felt ashamed at their own niggardliness and in envy of his bountiful hands have dissolved into rain. To spur them on to this act, the lightning has often laughed loudly over the heads of water-laden clouds and then fallen on the ground.13b For the lightning knows well that the clouds sometimes rain and sometimes do not, and when they rain, they rain water only. How can they be compared to our beneficent Emperor, who always rains and always rains gold?
Regulations of the ‘Place of Justice’ (Dārul ‘Adl),13c the generous gate of which has been opened for the public. 13d Next he constructed the ‘Place of Justice’ more open than the forehead of honest businessmen and brought to it all things that the people require. He ordered that all packages of cloth brought from the provinces were to be opened here and nowhere else; and once opened, they were not to be tied up again.13e And if anyone opened his packages elsewhere, the joints of his body were to be ‘opened’ with the sword. As to the commodities of the ‘Place of Justice’ and the cloth which is required by rich and poor, there are all varieties of cloth from kirpās to ḥarīr which hide the body; from behārī to gul-i-bāqlī, which are used both in summer and winter; from shi‘r to galīm, which differ greatly in their fibres; from juz to khuz, which are similar in their structure; and from Deogīrī to Mahadeonagri, which are an allurement both for the body and the mind.14a 14b As to fruits and other necessities of the table, if I were to describe in detail all the fine fruits that grow out of the ground, the narrative would become too long and I would be kept back from my real purpose; but the Emperor has provided in the ‘Place of Justice’ fruits and all other things that nobles and commons require for their meals, so that in the midst of the noise and tumult everyone may be able to select carefully the best and most suitable articles.14c You profess to give a just (judgment). Can you find (a judgment) just enough to the Emperor’s generosity?
Account of the sacred buildings, which the Emperor has constructed for the pleasure of God. 14d Because there is a secret understanding between God and the Emperor concerning sacred and public works, he has constructed such sacred buildings as strike the sky with wonder. With a pure motive he began his series of buildings with the Royal Juma Masjid (Masjid-i Jāma-i Hazrāt).14e He ordered a fourth court (maqṣūra), with lofty pillars to be added to the pre-existing three courts; it was to be so high that the fourth heaven may call it a second Mecca. In a day, stones like the sun were brought from the sky, and the (structure of) stones rose from the earth to the moon. Verses from the Qurān were engraved on stone as if it was wax; on one side the inscription ascended so high that you would think the word of God was going up to heaven; on the other side it came down in such a way as to symbolize the descent of the Qurān to earth. Through the elevation of this inscription a conversation, which will never end, has been started between heaven and earth. After this wide and high edifice had been finished from top to bottom, other mosques were built in the City, so strong that when the nine roofs of the thousand-eyed sky fall down in the universe-quake of resurrection, not an arch of these mosques will be injured. Next the columns of the old mosques, whose walls were kneeling and bowing in prayer and whose roofs were about to fall, were made to stand up so that they once more became the ‘pillars of faith’ and prayers were said in them. The four walls (of the mosques) were strengthened and so brilliantly plastered inside and outside that their light outdid the colour of the azure sky.
Of the extension of the Jami and the subsequent construction of the Mīnār. 15a When by the grace of God15b the decayed mosques had been so firmly repaired, that like the sacred Ka‘bah they became safe from destruction, the Emperor’s noble ambition prompted him to build a peer to the high Mīnār-i-Jāmi, a structure unrivalled throughout the world. The dome of sky was to be bestowed on the (new) Mīnār, for it could not rise higher than that. First, he ordered the courtyard of the mosque to be extended as much as possible, so that the ‘fraternity of Islam’, which is fortunately too large for the whole world, may yet be contained in this world within a world. Next, in order to make the Mīnār strong, and to carry it so high that the dome of the old Mīnār might look like an arch of the new, he ordered its circumference to be twice that of the old Mīnār. On a sign from the Emperor, the planets, who are the shop-keepers of the sky, began to move their chariots. Mercury became busy in buying iron and stone and the moon began to drive the Taurus. Yes, when the ‘House of God’ is being built, the stars have to carry stones on their heads! And if they refuse to stir from their places, the Mīnār itself will rise up to them and strike their heads with stones. People were sent to search for stones on all sides. Some struck the hills with their claws, and as they were anxious to find stones, they tore up the hill-side to pieces like lovers.16a Others were keener than steel in overturning infidel buildings. They sharpened their iron instruments, went to wage a holy war againstt he castles of the (old) rāīs, and fought a ferocious battle against the stones with their muscles of steel. Wherever an idol temple had kneeled down in prayer, the ‘arguments’ of the strong-tongued spade removed the foundations of infidelity from its heart, till finally the temple placed its head in thanksgiving on the ground.16b The stone slabs bore ancient inscriptions made by the ‘Preceptor of Angels’;16c but as the pen of Destiny had ordained that all these stones would have the good news—‘Indeed he builds the mosques of Allāh’—written upon them, they thrust the point of their pickaxes into the hard hearts (of the buildings) and threw (the stones) to the ground. Then the iron of the shovels, having turned into a magnet in contrariety to its nature, drew the stones to itself, and labourers with bodies of steel brought these stones from temples a hundred farsangs away. The stony back of the mosque had a large mass of stones put upon it; stones, such as the sky could not have drawn to itself, were taken to the sky; and rocks, such as the mountains could not hold on their backs, were brought upon the backs of the animals.
The stone-cutters of Hind, who excel Farhād in their art, took out their hatchets and smoothed the stones so artistically, that if imagination had put its feet upon them, it would have certainly slipped. The masons of Delhī, who consider Ni‘mān Manẓar a novice in the art of building, used their professional skill and joined stone to stone so that there was no danger of any secret crevice or cavity remaining between them. The doors and walls of the mosque, which formerly performed their tayammum17a with the dust, have now been raised so high that they perform their ablutions with water from the clouds. This has happened in the year A.H. 711. To carry it higher, human life must be based on a foundation firmer than that of the Mīnār; only then could the tower, which has risen out of the earth, be carried to the sky. And though I wish to see it finish, my life will have to be long before I am able to witness its completion and send my blessings to its pious founder. Besides my sight cannot reach its end; I am one of those who come and see and depart.
Construction of the strong fort of the City, in which a second wall o?? Alexander17b appeared on the face of the globe:—17c The fort of Delhī, the deputy of the sacred Ka’ba, had fallen down. Owing to the ravages of time, it was in a condition of dilapidation worse than that which has overtaken taverns17d in the reign of the august Emperor. Like a man dead drunk, it had fallen down in place and out of place, quite unable to keep its stones together. Sometime it placed its head on the ground before the common people of the public highway; on other occasions, it had bowed down in salutation to the worthless ditch. Its towers had once been so high that a man’s hat fell down if he attempted to look at them; but now, from continued ill-treatment, they lay down to sleep on the earth. When the ‘Alāī era of public works arrived (May it last for ever!), the Emperor ordered stones and bricks of gold to be taken out of the flourishing exchequer and spent in defraying the expenses of the fort.18a Skilful masons applied themselves to the work and a new fort was quickly built in place of the old. The new fort with its strong forearm and seven towers shakes hands with the coloured Pleiades, squeezes the powerful Mars under its arm-pit, and uses the high sky as a sort of waistband. It is a necessary condition that blood be given to a new building; consequently, many thousand goat-bearded Mughals have been sacrificed for the purpose. When the edifice—many congratulations to its founder— was completed, the Guardian of the Universe took it under His protection. How will any trouble or insurrection find its way to the place of which God is the guardian?
Construction of other forts, which, owing to the Emperor’s favour, now raise their heads to the sky:—18b When the masons of the Imperial capital had been recompensed for the buildings in the City, the Emperor ordered that wherever in any part of the Empire there was a fort, which had been affected by the moist winds of the rainy season, or was about to doze or go to sleep, or had opened wide its cracks and cast away its teeth (from old age), or grew yellow flowers in the rainy season, or was laughing through its walls or falling on its neck, or had the snakes of Zuḥḥāk19a living in its ears (corners), or bred rats in its arms (wings), it was to be repaired; so that instead of crevices frequented by scorpions and snakes, its towers rose stronger than the constellation of Scorpio, and as high as the Saggitarius and the Pleiades.
Of the new buildings in the country, villages and cities, which fill the whole Empire with ‘tasbih’ (praises of God) and ‘aẓan’ (call to prayer). 19b All mosques which lay in ruins—the vaults of some had fallen to the ground, the walls of others had crumbled down after having been repeatedly patched and repaired, the (interior of) some was compelled by the wind to perform an ablution (tayammum) with dust every day, the pillars of others had daily bathed in the rain and then laid themselves down—were built anew by a profuse scattering of silver. Prayers were said regularly in all, with blessings on their pious founder.
Account of the Royal Tank (Hauẓ-i-Sulṭāni), which holds the water of immortality in solution. 19c The Royal Tank, known as the ‘Shamsī Tank’,19d will (now) shine like the sun till the dawn of resurrection. But (formerly) the sun every day made it a mirror for seeing its own face, and it reflected back the light of the sun. But as the latter shone hotly upon it, it slowly sank down out of respect for the sun. ‘If your water should go down,’ the sun asked in its rage, ‘who is it then that will bring you flowing water?’ And the tank dried up from fear. This year the revolving sky flared up all of a sudden, and the water of the tank evaporated so thoroughly that its bottom cracked and broke into pieces. In his contempt for the ‘king of the planets,’ the ‘Emperor of the world’19e ordered the sand and mud to be removed from the bottom of the tank. And as the sun from on high had been drying up its water, a dome, such as put that luminary into falling fits, was built over it. Then rain came on, and the ‘eyes’ of the clear-hearted tank, which had dried up at the sun, were again filled with water. Strange the sympathy of the tank, that it should weep (at the helplessness) of the sun! But such is the custom of noble persons. Immediately sweet water became available in the City and a tumult rose up from the City wells. But though it had rained once through the kindness of Heaven, the bottom of the tank was too dry to become moist with a single draught. All clear water, that fell from the cloud, sank into the earth like the treasure of Qārūn.20a 20b There can be no doubt that Delhī is a city, which even the Nile and the Euphrates cannot provide with sufficient drinking water. And so the people of the City were faced with the same destruction that had threatened the followers of Moses. The Emperor—whose sharp sword has thrown the Pharaohs of infidelity into the Nile, or, to put it differently, whose Nile-like sword has been drowned in the yellow blood of Jewish tempered20c tunic-weavers—in this general scarcity of water, when even the Jamna had become dry, raised up his ‘white hand’, like Moses, to pray to God for water. Immediately, in proof of the text,—‘And we made the clouds to give shade over you’—the shadow (of his hand) fell over a little dry earth. The spades and the pickaxes in the hands of the excavators became like the staff of Moses. Two or three springs appeared on the four sides of the embankment (chautra). ‘So there flowed from it twelve springs; each tribe knew its drinking place.’ In a few days the water reached the edge of the embankment; and having met it (the embankment) after a long time, the water shook hands with it and hugged it with a hearty embrace, just as the sea embraces the land. Khusrau has written these lines in praise of the tank and its dome: ‘The dome in the centre of the tank is like a bubble on the surface of the sea. If you see the dome and the tank rightly, you will say that the former is like an ostrich egg, half in water and half out of it.’20d
21a As the public works which have been, and are being, constructed by this pious builder (May he live for ever!), surpass what the pen can describe, out of many Imperial buildings I have contented myself with the description of those given above in acknowledgment of my own limitations. Now I will move my tongue, which is surrounded by wise teeth, and describe some of the victories this world-conquering Alexander has achieved through heavenly assistance, the territories he has conquered and the forts he has reduced. Thus I will bring out of my mind the treasures that lie buried there, and at every victory I will scatter (prose) under the foot of my pen in these pages.
The first victory of the (Imperial) Army over the gluttons of Kadar in the contines of Jāran Manjūr. 23a This is the account of the victory, which the champions of the triumphant army obtained, for the first time during the reign of this Sanjar-like Sulṭān (May God protect his standards!) over the soldiers of the accursed Kadar in the land of Jāran Manjūr. When the subtle Tatār, accompanied by an army like an avenging deluge, came as presumptuous as ever from the Jūdī mountains, and crossed the Bīās, Jelum and Sutlej,23b the advancing wave of the hellites burnt down all the villages (talwārah23c) of the Khokars, so that the flames illuminated the suburbs of the City, and the buildings of Quṣūr were demolished. Such a wailing arose that the sound of it reached the august Emperor of the world.23d 23e The late Ulugẖ Khān, the arm of the state, was sent with the right wing of the army, supported by great generals and troops, to wage a holy war. He was to go to the infidels to show them his strong and closed fist. 23f The Khān, whose bow was like that of Arsh,23g flew as fast as one of his own arrows; and making two marches in one, he reached the borders of Jāran of Manjūr, the field of battle. Only the distance of a bowshot remained between the two armies. On Wednesday, the 22nd Rabī‘ul Akhir, A.H. 697 the great Muslim Khān came into contact with the infidels. He ordered the standard-bearers to bind the victorious standards to their backs; for the sake of their honour, they turned their faces towards the Sutlej, and without the aid of boats, they swam over the river, striking out their hands23h like oars impelling a boat. 23i The Mugẖals seemed very brave before the victorious army had plunged into the river; but when the wave of Muslim troops reached the middle of the stream, they gave way. Unable to bear the fire of the sword, they fled desperately; and though in number like ants and locusts, they were trampled under the feet of the horsemen like an army of ants. The Mugẖals wished to sink into the ground; for the sword was so busy on the bank that blood flowed like surkhāb24a on the river. The champions of the army could split a hair of the eyelash without injuring the eye; and in the twinkling of an eye, they had sewn up the stony eyeballs of some Mugẖals as you might sew up the eyes of a hawk, while their arrows pierced the iron hearts of others as a key goes into a lock. When a breast, like a rusty lock, refuses to open, it should be opened in no other way than this. In short, twenty thousand ferocious Mugẖals were sent to sleep on the ground in mourning at their own death by the powerful (Imperial) lions. A very large part of Kadar’s army (tumān) was cut to pieces with blows of axe and spear. Some Mugẖals whose bones had been ground to powder, were sent off to their journey24b in that condition. Others had become unconscious through fear, but life still remained in their bodies; their heads were cut off, and so they departed without their heads. Most of the survivors were imprisoned. ‘Lay hold on him, then put a chain on him’.24c The iron collar, which loves the Mugẖal necks, enclosed them with the greatest affection and squeezed them hard. ‘This is the punishment of the enemies of Islam,’ cried their chains with a loud voice.
24d When the blood-smeared heads of the Tatārs had filled the battle-field with thousands and thousands of wine glasses, the jackals of the forest collected together and held a feast by the river-side. After slaughtering the execrable carcass-eaters of Qaidū,24e who are both Turks of the tribe of Qai (vomit) and the eaters of vomit (qai), the victorious army of the Khalīfa (May he reign for ever!) prepared to return. The late Ulugẖ Khān (May God give him pure wine to drink!) first held a pleasure-party to commemorate the great victory and scattered gold and jewels among his comrades of war and peace. Then intoxicated with happiness, he spurred his horse to kiss the ground before the Imperial Court. The prisoners, who looked like the teeth of mad elephants, were put to death. Meanwhile, the Emperor, like Kai-Khusrau,25a had seen the image of this victory in the world-compassing mirror of his own mind, and moved his tongue in gratitude at the realization of his wishes. ‘If you are grateful, I would certainly give to you more.’25b He then gave himself up to rejoicings. He called the commanders (khāns) of the left and right wings25c to a great feast, and bestowed such favours on the citizens and the army, that they were freed from all labour (God protect us from it!). If you asked water in alms from a beggar, he would give you wine.25d
This is the account of another victory of the Muslim army over the Mugẖals. 26a When ‘Alī Beg, Tartāq and Targẖi came with drawn swords from the borders of Turkestān to the river Sind (Indus), and after crossing the Jelum like an arrow, turned their faces in this direction, Targẖi, who had once or twice fled away from the attacks of the victors, already saw his bald head on the spears of the champions of Islām, like a wine cup placed over a ladle. Although he had an iron heart, yet he dare not place it within the reach of the anvil-breaking warriors of God. But he was at last shot by an arrow, which penetrated his heart and passed to the other side. ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq, who had never been to this country before, mistook the arched swords of Musalmāns for those of mere preachers. They ventured with single heads on their shoulders into a country, where if a man brought a thousand heads, he could not take one of them back. They had fifty thousand trained and ferocious horsemen; the hills trembled at their tread. The confounded inhabitants at the foot of the hills fled away at the fierce attack of these wretches and rushed to the fords of the Ganges. But the lightning of Mugẖal fury penetrated to that region also and smoke arose out of the towns of Hindustān.26b People fled from their burning houses, and with their heads and feet on fire, threw themselves into rivers and torrents. At last from these desolated tracts news came to the Imperial Court. The Emperor sent his confidential officer, Malik Naik, Akhūr Beg-iMaisarah, with thirty thousand powerful horsemen, and directed him to slaughter without stint and to shoot such an arrow at the accursed mark as might create a fearful rent in their work (strategy). Across a distance which was longer than the day of the idle, the victorious army passed more quickly than the lives of the busy. On Thursday, 12 Jamādīus Ṯanī, A.H. 705 they overtook the doomed enemy. Immediately on seeing the dust of the Muslim army, the grovelling Mugẖals became like particles of sand, revolving above and below. Hard-lived though they were, their souls fled out of them; nor could their iron hearts remain in their places to serve as anchors for their souls. Like a swarm of gnats warring against a hurricane, in proportion to their attempt to move forward, they were taken further back. And the Angel of Death cried out to them: ‘Flight shall not do you any good if you fly from death or slaughter.’27a From necessity (rather than choice), they made a feeble attack though their enthusiasm had declined. But the army of the Second Alexander, which you might call an iron wall, was not a thing that would bend. It drove away those doers of the deeds of Gog; and in expectation of Divine assistance—‘and He has sent an army, which you do not see’—the sharp sword began to do its work. Soon fire-coloured faces fell to the ground. One would think that the Muslim swordsmen were throwing balls of fire over running water. In this universal cutting of heads, ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq, the two ‘heads’ of the Mugẖals, saw the sword above them and the time of their fall near. Their faces grew dark from the blazing heat of the all-conquering sword, and they threw themselves under the shade of the Muslim standard. ‘The rays of the sword have struck us with such a fire,’ they said, ‘that we will never be satisfied till we have reached the “Shadow of God”’. The man laid low with misfortunes cannot find happiness anywhere except under the ‘shadow of God’.
27b The field of battle, strewn with elephant-bodied Mugẖals, looked like a chess-board. Their faces (castles) had been cut into two with the sword, and their bodies, pounded with the clubs (gurz), looked like bags for holding the chess-men. The dead Mugẖal lay right and left like so many captured pieces. Of the ‘horses’ (knights) which had filled the squares, some had been knocked down with blows and others had been captured. Such knights, as after the manner of pawns, refused to go back, were turned into foot-men (pawns), and since they moved still further, they became farzin (queens), i.e. they were made to place their heads on the ground.28a ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq, the two kings of the chess-board, were checkmated by their large-boned enemy, the Malik Akhur Beg, who wished to send them to the Emperor, so that he may either spare their lives or else cast them under the feet of the elephants (bishops). 28b When Satan’s puppets, i.e. the infidel troops, were brought bound before the Imperial throne, the two adventurers, who had claimed equality (with the Sulṭān), cast their eyeballs like dice on the carpet of submission, and appealed to the Emperor’s manliness in order to save their lives. Two different orders were given concerning these ‘red and white ones’;28c some were to be put to death and others imprisoned. The two captured pieces,28d who had hitherto remained in suspense, were brought to their prison and freed from the danger of death. In the course of time one of them died, without any harm having been done to him, and the other remained alone. The Emperor was so successful in the sport that he took their lives in one game after another.28e
Account of another victory and the slaughter of the Mugẖal tumāns, who had raised an uproar under the dog, Kapak. 29a When the fierce29b infidel army (God destroy it!) came proudly like autumn into the garden of Hindustān, the southernmost of the fertile countries, towards the end of Diy,29c dust arose from the borders of the land of Sind and the inhabitants threw away their property and dispersed like autumnal leaves. But the storm of destruction, being unable to raise any dust in the regions of Kohrām and Sāmāna, turned towards the wilderness of Nāgore, and overpowered the inhabitants of that region. When the stench of these doomed carcass-eaters led by a hound increased, the sweet Nāgori rose, which smells like rubbed sandal-wood, turned fetid. Messengers fast as the wind brought news of this stench to the perfumed palace of the victorious Emperor, whose virtues are fragrant like the navel of a musk-deer. In abhorrence of those men with stinking brains, he ordered the Muslim army to proceed against them; but the news was to be kept a secret, lest in fear of the approaching sandal, the horrid stench should fly back to the fragrant willows of Khorasan. The Malik of fragrant virtues, ‘Izzuddoulah waddin Kāfūr-i Sulṭānī (May the Imperial Court be perfumed with his talents!) was appointed to lead the army. The deer-riding lions went so quickly that they made no distinction between the darkness of night and the light of dawn till they had reached their stinking prey. And when the turmeric-coloured dust of the holy warriors had bathed the anice-smelling Mugẖals, the latter also became fragrant. 30a On the banks of the Ab-i ‘Alī30b the Mugẖals were overtaken by a weak wave from the swelling stream of Muslim enthusiasm. The accursed Kapak fell into a rushing torrent of swords and began to strike out his hands and feet; the sharp sword was about to cut off his head, when the kind-hearted Mussalmāns rushed in from all sides and took him prisoner, in order to send the water-dog with the other aquatics to the Imperial Court. All the followers of Kapak were either killed or imprisoned; some were shot with arrows and became cold where they stood; the rest had still some water from the stream of life left, but the wind of Divine wrath blew against them and they were put into chains.
Another Mugẖal army, under Iqbāl Mudbir30c and Mudābīr Tāī Bū, followed close behind Kapak’s, thirsty for the blood of Mussalmāns, but well filled with the blood of their own tribes. Suddenly a torrent of blood of the slaughtered infidels flowed towards them, but as they were well accustomed to such a flood, they dived to the bottom. The swelling stream of blood, however, reminded them of the sharp sword; for a great slaughter was awaiting them. Though they tried to strike out their feet, they found no space to stand on. Meanwhile the van of the Muslim army advanced like clouds and rain, and fell like a raging storm on these men from Jaihūn. All of them fled from the rain of arrows, and wished like dogs to seek refuge in any gutter. On every side the army advanced like waves of a deluge that goes over mountains and caverns with tumult and noise. 30d News was brought to the commander of the Muslim troops30e that the Mugẖals had two heads, one Iqbāl and the other Tāī Bū. When the right wing of the Imperial army fell upon them, they lost all consciousness of hand and feet, and the two Mugẖal leaders were flying by the same passage across the Sind (Indus). But as they had forgotten their ‘feet’, neither did their ‘feet’ remember their ‘heads’; and it was high time for the Imperial sword to strike off their ‘heads’ and throw them before their ‘hands’ and ‘feet’!31a 31b So by the firmān of the commanders of the army, bold and strong-armed warriors took their swords in hand, spurred their horses across the extensive desert and soon overtook the retreating Mugẖals. In that garden of death heads were struck off and necks were cut open, so that the sword sometimes reached the throat and sometimes the waist. Owing to the sword of the holy warriors, the deluge of blood came up to the nose of the infidels; yet not a drop of blood came out of a Mussalmān’s nose. When the victorious army, which had girded up its loins for holy war in defence of the Faith of the Lord, saw conclusive proof of the text, —‘And surely Allāh will help him who helps His cause’—it enacted the scenes of resurrection on the innumerable bodies of these accursed wretches. You would have thought that the Day of Judgment had arrived, and that the angels of the Lord were collecting the dead bodies of stony-hearted infidels to light the fire of Hell, ‘of which men and stones are the fuel.’ Countless infidels having been sent to Hell in that extensive territory, another great multitude of them was consigned to the angels of torture to be put in ‘chains and shackles’ and brought to the review. At the head of the chain was the accursed Kapak, a hound from amongst the hounds of Hell. He had been captured among the amīrs of Jar Tāī Bū’s tumān and testified with him to the fact that the people of the north had resorted to flight. All the other (Mugẖals) were either despatched to the pit of Hell or else put in the same chains with those destined for that place. The virtuous Malik31c moved back with his troops to the Court of the august Emperor (May his kingdom last for ever!). Time after time he kept on sending fresh news to the Lord’s deputy,31d and was in reply favoured with a robe of honour. Finally he reached the Imperial Court, and brought the hellish crew to the muster of the Judgment Day. ‘When the earth is shaken with her (violent) shaking,’ cried the huge elephants as they threw most of these cotton wearers (i.e. Mugẖals) high up in the air; and (the cotton wearers) became like ‘loosened wool.’ 32a But as even the enormous elephants, who are like strong houses on moving pillars, were not able to destroy all the desolators of this country, order was given that the base of the towers of the Fort (kangar-i-ḥiṣār) was to be constructed from the blood and bones of the remaining (Mugẖals). Immediately in obedience to the Imperial command, Tātārs and Chinese were hung from the Fort as negroes32b with heads inverted hang down from a new building. 32c Owing to the mixture of the Mugẖal bodies with the material of the towers, the confluence of Mars and Saturn was witnessed, and the evil influence of the confluence fell on the lives of these men of Mars. For even after all the towers had been constructed, many of these doomed men were left. Their wretched heads were cut off with shining swords and a bastion, so high that it touched the head of the sky, was formed of them. Mars hung its head (in shame) at the sight. The constellations of the sky have but a single ‘head,’ but here you may see a hundred thousand ‘heads’ in a single constellation (bastion).
Later historians have so confused the account of these generals that I have, for the sake of clearness, reserved their discussion for a separate note.
As to the other authorities, Amīr Khusrau has devoted some lines of his Dawal Rānī to the same campaigns. ‘After this (defeat of ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq) three fierce (Mugẖal) generals, who moved more rapidly than the wind, crossed the territory of Multān and began to ravage the land of the Rāvī. One of them was Tāī Bū, the other was Iqbāl Mudbir and the third was Kapak, wise in war and revenge. Their armies, innumerable as grains of sand (had come) to take revenge for the fate of Tartāq and ‘Alī Beg. According to his custom, the Emperor ordered the Minister of the State, Kāfūr (camphor), to disperse the stench of Tāī Bū, so that no trace of it may remain. The great warrior marched rapidly, and crossing two stages in one night, came upon the Mugẖals like a storm and dispersed their wretched ranks. The blood of the Tātārs rose high up to the breast of the horses in that extensive desert. The infidel dogs fled in panic; the holy warriors pursued them like lions. Iqbāl and Tāī Bū fled from the battle-field toward the rivers. Though they had collected spoils before this, now the preservation of their own heads was all they wished for. The Army of Faith advanced like a river and Kapak was drowned; it pounced like a falcon and carried off Kapak as if he was a partridge. A collar was placed round the neck of the great hound and he was sent to the Emperor of the World.’ In spite of the mixed metaphors, these lines will leave on the reader the impression that Iqbāl, Tāī Bū, and Kapak were three generals taking part in the same campaign, though, of course, each commanded a different army.
Barnī’s account is loose and inaccurate.
‘On another occasion, in another year, the army of Islām came to a battle with the accursed Kank and the Mugẖal troops at Khakar. God granted victory to Muslim arms. The accursed Kank, leader of the Mugẖal army, was brought captive and alive before the Sulṭān’s throne, and there cast under the feet of elephants. On this occasion also, either in the field of battle or else after being brought to Delhī, enormous numbers of Mugẖals were slain. A tower of their heads was raised before the Badāun Gate; people see it till to-day and it reminds them of, ‘Alāuddīn.
‘On another occasion, in another year, three or four Mugẖal amīrs of tumans broke into the Siwāliks suddenly and heedlessly with thirty or forty thousand horse and engaged in plunder and slaughter. ‘Alāuddīn sent the army of Islām against them with orders to seize the road by which the Mugẖals were to return to the river; when the Mugẖals returned thirsty to the water-side, it was to mete out their punishment to them. The Muslim army seized the passages of the Mugẖal retreat and encamped by the river-side. As God had ordained, having laid waste the Siwāliks and travelling a long distance thence, the Mugẖals and their horses reached the river thirsty and in disorder. The Muslim army, which had been waiting for their return for a few days, obtained the desired supremacy over them. The Mugẖals, taken by surprise, begged for water from the Muslim army. They were all taken captive along with their women and children. A great victory had crowned the Muslim arms. Thousands of Mugẖals were sent to the fort of Narāniya with ropes round their necks; their women and children were brought to the Delhī slave-market and sold away like Hindustānī slaves. The Malik Khās-i-Ḥājib was sent to Narāniya from the capital. He went there and put unhesitatingly to the sword all the Mugẖals who had been brought to the fort after the victory. Streams ran with their foul blood.
‘In another year Iqbālmandah came with the Mugẖal army. Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn sent the army of Islām from Delhī against them. This year also the Muslim army gained a victory over the Mugẖals. After a feebly fought battle, Iqbālmanda was slain and thousands of Mugẖals were put to the sword. The hazara and sada amīrs, who had been caught alive, were brought to Delhī and cast under the feet of elephants. On the occasion when Iqbālmanda was slain, no Mugẖal escaped alive.’
Two later historians deserve citation.
‘In the year A.H. 705,’ says Ferishta, ‘one of the great amīrs of Dāwa Khān, named Kank, came with a large army to seek revenge for a ‘Alī Beg and Khwāja Taryāl. He had passed the precincts of Multān and reached the Siwāliks, when Ghāzl Malik Tugẖlaq prepared his army for battle and seized the banks of the river Nīlāb, thus cutting off the Mugẖal retreat. The Mugẖals plundered and ravaged; then after a long journey, when the air was hottest, they came back to the banks of the Nīlāb with inflamed livers and parched lips, ignorant of the snare of their enemy. But when they saw the river of life in the enemy’s hands, they naturally despaired of their lives and gave battle to the army of Hindustān. Most of the Mugẖals were slain; Kank was captured alive while those who escaped from the battle-field died of thirst in the forest. Their women and children were taken prisoners. This was a strange event, for out of fifty or sixty thousand Mugẖals not more than three or four thousand were left alive. Ghāzī Malik, who became very famous on account of this victory, sent Kank with a large number of Mugẖal prisoners to the Sulṭān. ‘Alāuddīn had Kank and his comrades thrown under the elephants’ feet near the Hazār Sutun Palace, and then constructed a tower of Mugẖal heads in the plain before the Badāūn Gate. It is said that traces of it remain till to-day. This year the Mugẖal women and children were sold in Delhī and the rest of Hindustān like Hindi prisoners of war.
‘A long while after this a Mugẖal, named Iqbālmand, came to Hindustān with an immense army and wrought much damage. But Ghāzī Malik Tugẖlaq marched against Iqbālmand and after slaying him sent many live Mugẖals to Delhī to be trodden down by the enormous elephants. Fear and terror now overtook the Mugẖals; the desire of coming to Hindustān was washed off from their breasts; and they created no trouble till the end of Sulṭān Quṭbuddīn’s reign. Ghāzī Malik Tugẖlaq was stationed at Depālpūr. Every year he led expeditions to Kābul, Ghaznīn, Qandhār and Garmsīr, plundered and ravaged those regions and levied tribute from their inhabitants. The Mugẖals had not the courage to come and defend their own frontiers against him.’
Nizāmuddīn’s account is based on Barnī.
‘Next time a Mugẖal, named Kabīk, came with a large army and fought a battle with the army of Delhī at Khakūr. Most of the Mugẖals were slain and a tower of their heads was constructed near the Badāūn Gate.
‘After a while a Mugẖal army of thirty thousand horse came to the Siwāliks and began to plunder. When the Sulṭān heard of it, he sent a large army against them. The army of Delhī seized the banks of the Rāvī, across which the Mugẖals had to return; and when the Mugẖals, loaded with spoils, came to the river-side, the army of Delhī advanced and defeated them. Many Mugẖal officers were captured and imprisoned in the fort of Tarāīnah, which is situated in that neighbourhood, while their families and followers were brought to the City and sold as slaves. After this the Malik Khās-i Ḥājib was ordered to go to Tarāīnah to put the prisoners to death.
‘A long time after this Iqbālmandah, a famous Mugẖal, came to India with a large army. An engagement took place between him and the army of Delhī at Daradahindah Amir ‘Alī (?). Iqbālmandah was slain and the other Mugẖāls were brought to Delhī, where they were thrown under the feet of elephants.’
Of the five accounts before us, Nizāmuddīn merely summarizes Barnī and need not be further considered. The only addition he makes is the identification of the river mentioned by Barnī with the Rāvī. Ferishta apparently had only Nizāmuddīn and Dawal Rānī before him, and plays havoc with facts and names. Of the three original authorities Tārīkh-i-Fīrozī, Dawal Rānī and Khazāīnul Futūh the last two are fairly consistent, but it is difficult to reconcile them with the Tārī-Khi Fīrozī. Amīr Khusrau speaks of the three generals as if they had planned a joint push, Kapak leading the advanced contingents while the other two marched behind. Malik Kāfur (not Ghāzī Malik as in Ferishta) was the commander of the Delhī army. Barnī speaks of three campaigns in three different, if not successive, years. The first is led by Kapak, the name of the commander of the second is not given, while the third is assigned to Iqbālmandah. I am inclined to agree with Amīr Khusrau, who wrote during ‘Alāuddīn’s reign while Barnī’s paragraphs may not have been written till years after. Military matters did not interest Barnī, his geographical knowledge was meagre and his dates are often incorrect.
Having described the dagger thrusts in many victories over the Mugẖals, I now come to the conquest of the Hindūs of Gujrāt:—35a As the sword of the Emperor of land and sea had been plentifully smeared with the blood of the infidel Mugẖals, he wished to wash off this clotted impurity in the immense ocean. Consequently, on Wednesday, the 20th Jamadīul Awwal, 699 A.H., a fortunate day, he issued a firmān to the ‘Arīẓ-i Wāla35b to send an army, like clouds and rain, to the coast of Gujrāt to destroy the temple of Somnāth. Like an angel directing the clouds, the late Ulugẖ Khān (May God make him drink out of the fountain of His forgiveness!) was appointed to lead the victorious army. Resolved to conquer, the clouds moved towards the sea; and as the foundations of the temple were water-deep, they wished to bring its summit to the water also. When the Imperial army reached the City of that land,35c the sword of the righteous monarch completely conquered the province, which, adorned like a bride, had escaped so many emperors of the past. Much blood was shed. A general invitation was issued to all the beasts and birds of the forest to a continuous feast of meat and drink. In the marriage banquet, at which the Hindūs were sacrificed, animals of all kinds ate them to their satisfaction. Then the Khān-i ‘Aẓam35d moved his army towards the sea.35e Round the temple of Somnāth, which is the centre of Hindū worship, he drew a circle with his troops, and planted his Khaṭāī spear so high towards the centre that its sharp point almost pierced the sky. The banner of Islām was elevated to the equator, while every arch emerging from the two semi-circles, into which the army was divided, without fail passed its arrow through the black dot of infidelity. So the temple of Somnāth was made to bow towards the Holy Mecca; and as the temple lowered its head and jumped into the sea, you may say that the building first said its prayers and then had a bath. The idols, who had fixed their abode midway to the House of Abraham (Mecca), and there waylaid stragglers,36a were broken to pieces in pursuance of Abraham’s tradition.36b But one idol, the greatest of them all, was sent by the maliks to the Imperial Court, so that the breaking of their helpless god may be demonstrated to the idol-worshipping Hindūs. It seemed as if the tongue of the Imperial sword explained the meaning of the text: ‘So he (Abraham) broke them (the idols) into pieces except the chief of them, that haply they may return to it.’36c Such a pagan country, the Mecca of the infidels, now became the Medīna of Islam. The followers of Abraham now acted as guides in place of the Brahman leaders. The robust-hearted true believers rigorously broke all idols and temples wherever they found them. Owing to the war, ‘takbīr,’ and ‘shahādat’ was heard on every side; even the idols by their breaking affirmed the existence of God. In this ancient land of infidelity the call to prayers rose so high that it was heard in Bagẖdād and Madāīn (Ctesiphon) while the ‘Alāī proclamation (Khuṭba) resounded in the dome of Abraham and over the water of Zamzam.36d As to the city of Nahrwāla and the city of Kambāyat (Cambay), which the sea raises its head to swallow up, as well as the other cities situated on the coast—though the sea beats against them with force, yet the wave of the Muslim army did not turn to the sea to wash off the contamination of infidelity from the land, but cleansed the ground by a deluge of infidel blood; for if blood is not clean, and cannot cleanse, yet the sword is a purifier; and the sword having overcome the infidels, their blood became pure also. My object in this simile is not real blood, but (only to show) that the sword of Islām purified the land as the sun purifies the earth.36e
In a single campaign Rantambhor was conquered, and by the decree of Providence the land of infidelity became the land of Islām. 38a When the celestial canopy of the Shadow of God cast its shade over the hill of Rantambhor and the conqueror of the world emitted his heat like the sun over the unlucky inhabitants of that place, the days of their life began to decline. The towering fort, which talked with the stars through its lofty pinnacles, was surrounded by the troops. The Saturnian Hindūs, who are related to that planet, had for purposes of defence collected fire in all the ten towers, thus turning the towers of earth (burj-i khākī39a) into towers of fire. Every day the fire of those people of Hell extended its heated tongue to the light of Islām. But as the Mussalmāns, men of pure elements, had no means of extinguishing it, they took care of their own water (morale) without trying to overcome the fire. Sand-bags were sewn and with them a pāshīb was constructed. From the sowing of sand-bags it seemed that the Emperor of the world was investing the sand even with a robe of honour in reward for its capturing the fort. What then was to be the reward of men? May the country prosper under such an Emperor till water and earth, fire and air continue to exist! 39b When the pāshīb rose high enough to touch the western tower of the fort, the Imperial Westerners (magẖrabīs) appeared like the trunk of an elephant on its summit and shot large earthen balls. A mountain moved against the infidel fort, and the hearts of the Hindūs began to fail them.
39c Some ‘New Muslims’ from among the ill-starred Mugẖals had turned their faces from the sun of Islām and joined the Saturnians.39d All these men of Mars had collected together in the tower of fire (burj-i atshin); but though they had lighted a fire in all the three towers, and gathered like particles in the ‘heaven full of stars’, yet was Mercury (tir or arrow) caught in the sign of Saggittarius (qaus), and wandering towards the fire, was totally consumed. From39e Rajab to Ẓil Q’ad the victorious army remained encamped at the foot of the fort. From the towers above, the fire rose high enough to evaporate the water-laden canopy of the clouds, but the fortunate Mussalmāns gathered together every day at the extremity of the pāsheb and carried forward the Imperial banner. With the impetuosity of Bahrām the brave warriors penetrated like salamanders through a fire that scared away the lion of the sky (the sun). To the sound of pipes, the pāīko (footmen) from above made their arrows dance over the fire so that even birds could not fly over the ethereal sphere; the royal falcons were, therefore, unable to reach the dome of fire which extended to the sky. 40a Again, the ‘irādas inside the fort, being the brides of the Hindūs, had borne them female offsprings of stone and were openly throwing them out by the end of Sha’bān. The Imperial gẖazbāns took account of their misdeeds and stoned them. For inevitably the mischievous is stoned. The stones of the besieging magẖrabis went up in the air and struck the clouds with such force that lightning was emitted from them. Heavy stones fell like hail on the heads of the besieged; they ate them and became cold. Yes! Their provisions being finished, they ate stones. Famine prevailed to such an extent within the fort, that they would have purchased a grain of rice for two grains of gold but could not get it. The fire of hunger had roasted their hearts within their earthen bosoms—and they wished to open their bosoms and eat up their roasted hearts. Man can bear all afflictions except that of a starving stomach.
40b When the celestial sun had ascended the steps of honour and sat in the sign of Aries to hold the festival of the New Year’s Day (naurūz), tankas of gold were showered on the earth like falling leaves, and it became finer than a garden. After the naurūz, the Sun of Justice (the Sulṭān) shone full on the Rantambhor hill and every day its heat and light increased,40c till finally the lofty fort, which drew its water-supply from the azure sky, became a desert from lack of vegetation and water. The world seemed smaller to the Rāī (of Rantambhor) than the prison within a rose-bud. So in his desperation one night he lighted a high fire, which rose like a mountain-tulip on the hill, and threw into it the rosy-coloured young maidens, who had grown up in his arms. After he had personally despatched to hell these deserving inmates of paradise, he came to the head of the pāshīb with one or two other unbelievers, bent on sacrificing his life with honour. Though the morning breeze had begun to blow, the narcissus-eyes of the watchmen had not yet closed in sleep. The melody of the bulbul accompanied the Rāī as he advanced. The rose raised a cry. The watchmen drew their swords of lily, sprang up from their places like the morning breeze and put the Rāī to flight, as the winter-wind annihilates the blooming cypress. Thus on the fortunate date, Tuesday, the 3rd Ẓil Qa’d, 700 A.H. such an impregnable fort was taken through an exercise of the strong will. 41a The title of the ‘Place of Islām’ was sent from heaven for this house of infidelity. The inhabited parts of Jhābun, that old land of paganism, became the ‘New City’ of the true believers. The great Imperial banner stood over the iron fort like a key in a lock; for it was the key for the conquest of southern lands. First the temple of Bāhir Deo, the support of which he had invoked, was destroyed. Then the houses of infidelity were overthrown by the strong arm of the holy warriors. Many strongly built temples, which the trumpet of the Day of Judgment could not have shaken, went to sleep on the ground as the morning breeze of Islām blew upon them. The stones of the infidel fort had grown deaf from hearing the Hindū conches; but now they re-echoed the (Muslim) call for prayer. Where formerly the loud pealing of the Brahman’s kettles had torn the ears of the Hindūs, now the sound of the Prophet’s Khuṭba filled true believing ears with a melodious joy. Henceforward whichever side the Imperial armies march, I know their arrow will hit the mark; wherever the Imperial ‘Khuṭba’ is read, its fame will resound to the sky.41b
This is an account of the conquest of the Fort of Māndū and of the whole of Mālwa:—42a When the lancers of the victorious army had put antimony into the eyes of the more dimsighted Rāīs with their spears, many powerful Zamīndārs, gifted with greater keenness of vision, threw aside their boldness and impudence from fear of the stone-piercing arrows of the Turks. They came to the Imperial Court with open eyes and turned its threshold into antimony by rubbing their black pupils upon it; at the same time they saved their bones from becoming antimony-boxes for the dust.43a The Emperor regarded every one of them with an affectionate glance, and threw on them a ray of his favour, which their eyes had never expected to behold. Finally, no impudent infidel remained in the provinces of Hind; some had gone to sleep on the scarlet-coloured bed of (Imperial) punishment; others had opened their eyes and bowed in obedience before the Court.
But on the southern frontier, Rāī Mahlik Deo of Mālwa and Kūkā Pardhān had a permanent army of thirty or forty thousand chosen horsemen. The darkness of their (minds) and the dust raised by their legions had put the antimony of pride in their eyes. ‘When Fate decrees, the sight is blinded’. A curtain had fallen before their eyes and they forsook the path of loyalty. Consequently, a body of select troops was sent by the Emperor against them and fell on those blind wanderers all of a sudden. Victory itself preceded them and had her eyes fixed upon the road to see when the triumphant army would arrive. When the army of Islām came upon the rebels, their eyes were closed and their necks were cut open with the blows of the sword. Streams of blood sank into the ground. So far as the human eye could see, the ground was muddy with blood. The Hindūs tried to fly away from the blood-eating earth, yet with eyes full of tears many of them sank in the mire. At this moment Kūkā came blindly forward, but his horse remained stuck in the mud ‘like black earth in the mire’. In the twinkling of an eye he was pierced by innumerable arrows, and looked like a bee-hive with a thousand compartments, all full of bees. Then his soul fled to the streams of the under-world, while his unfortunate head was sent to the Imperial Court, so that it may attain to a real sublimity by being placed under the feet of the royal horses below the Palace Gate.
When Mālwa, an extensive territory of which even clearsighted geographers are unable to discover the limits, was conquered, it was necessary to entrust it to an experienced and clever governor (mutaṣarrif), who would not only keep a firm hand over the newly conquered land, but also through courageous judgment and great efforts reduce the fort of Māndū, an edifice so high that the human eye was unable to see its summit. The Emperor surveyed with a critical eye the confidential and trusty servants of the state to see which of them most deserved being entrusted with such a post. When his inspired mind had come to a conclusion, he mentioned to the Ḥājib-i-Khāṣ with his brow: ‘Tell ‘Aīnul Mulk44a (the Eye of the State) that I have seen foresight in him. I am giving him the title of ‘Aīnul Mulk and elevating him to a very high office. I entrust him with the province of Mālwa, where the darkness of infidelity has been illuminated with the light of Islām. He is to use his foresight with skill, without permitting his eyelid to cover his pupils in sleep at the command of night. A handful of thorns still remain in that land, and he is not to consider his eyes safe from being pricked by those ignoble people. He has to conquer the fort of Māndū by closing up the streams and making breaches in the walls; and when, by the kindness of the “Opener of the Gates”, the place has been conquered, he has to wash away, with the sharpness of his sword, the contamination of infidelity, which sticks to that pagan land as evil intentions stick to the eyes of the rebellious. The cowardly Mahlik Deo has withdrawn to his fort as the eye of a blind man sinks into its socket. Bring him out by such means as you can in order to overawe the other Hindūs. And if, even for a short time, he remains safe in his fort from the arrows of the Mussalmāns, you are to expect nothing but anger from me. There is reproof for him if he is unable to flow streams of blood on the mountains.’ The ‘Ḥājib-Khāṣ’ came and in his official way told ‘Aīnul Mulk exactly what the Imperial order was. ‘Aīnul Mulk stood up as the eyelashes stand upon the eyelids, rubbed his forehead on the ground and accepted the royal firmān with the pupils of his eyes.
‘Aīnul Mulk started on the mission with his troops and opened wide his joyous eyes to accomplish the task entrusted to him by the Emperor. He cleared the territory (Mālwa) of the remaining evil doers as the eye is cured of its inflammation, till finally his sword refused to do any further work and went into the ‘eye’ of its scabbard. The dark-faced Rāī, like a grain of chāksū,45a had sought shelter between two stones; but he only made it clear that he would be pealed and ground for the sake of ‘Aīnul Mulk (the Eye of the State). From dimness of sight, the Rāī sent the ‘light of his eyes’45b in front, thus making him a shield for his own eyes. At the same time he placed round his son an enormous multitude which only contributed to his fall, as overgrown eyelashes injure the eyes. All at once a body of ‘Aīnul Mulk’s troops fell upon them, like the dust storm that overpowers the eyes of men. In an instant the boldest of them were rolling in blood and dust, while the Rāī’s son slept the sleep of death. But ‘Aīnul Mulk’s clear judgment was not content with this success and he wished to lure the Rāī himself out of his cave. He was planning this when a spy (dīdbān) came back from the fort and undertook to guide them. The man led them by a way he had discovered, illuminating the path with the lamp of his eyes. In the course of the night ‘Aīnul Mulk’s army reached the summit and fell on Mahlik Deo with the impetuosity of a shooting-star before even his household gods were aware of it. Then eye-piercing arrows began to pour on them like innumerable drops of rain, while the flashes of the sword dazzled their eyes. The meteoric arrows kindled a fire in the bodies of these demons (deos)46a brought up in the shade. Rāī Mahlik Deo (the fierce demon) was burnt from head to foot in his battle with the shooting-stars and fled to the stream of Sār, where he was slain. This event occurred on Thursday, the 5th of Jamādiul Awwal, 705 A.H. The gate of the fort of Māndū was opened before them like the eye of fortune. Where, formerly, through secret magic and tricks that deceived the sight,46b the gabrs had drawn a veil over the people’s eyes with the dark sayings of infidelity, now true believers, under the ‘brows’ of the arches, bowed in thankfulness to the ground. The eyes of the angels were illuminated with the light of congregational prayers and Friday sermons. The four walls of the fort resounded at all the five prayers to the sound of the ‘Opening Verses’: ‘(All) Praise is due to Allāh, the Lord of the Worlds’. Malik ‘Aīnul Mulk wrote down all this with the black of his pupil and sent it through his ḥājib to the Emperor to be placed before his august eyes. The wise king under the shadow of his canopy is like the ‘Idea of Man’; for the ‘Eye of God’ is over him.46c When this good news was brought to the Emperor, he bowed down in thankfulness and assigned the territory of Māndū also to ‘Aīnul Mulk. May God perfect the Empire of the Sulṭān and guard his perfection with the Perfect Eye.46d
This is the account of the conquest of Chitor, which towers like the sky on the earth:—On Monday, the 8th Jamādius Ṯānī, 702 A.H. the Conqueror of the World, resolved on the conquest of Chitor, ordered his high-sounding drums to be beaten. The crescent-banner was moved forward from Delhī and the Imperial canopy was raised up to the smoky clouds; the sound of the drum reached the bowl of the sky and conveyed to it the good news of the Emperor’s determination. Finally, the confines of Chitor were reached. The Imperial pavilion of which the clouds may be considered the lining, was pitched up in that territory between two rivers.47a The enthusiasm of the army shook the two seashores like an earthquake, while the dust raised by the feet of the troops rendered the two deep rivers fordable. The two wings of the army were ordered to pitch their tents one after the other on the two sides of the fort. It seemed that water-laden clouds had alighted at the foot of the hill. For two months the flood of the swords went up to the ‘waist’ of the hill but could not rise any higher. Wonderful was the fort, which even hailstones were unable to strike! For if the flood itself rushes from the summit, it will take a full day to reach the foot of the hill.
Nevertheless, the celestial fort, which raised its head above the clouds, would have bowed to the ground at the strokes of the magẖrabī stones. But Jesus from the Bāitul Ma‘mūr (Mecca) sent the good news of the building of Moḥammad’s Faith; consequently, the stones of the building remained intact and kept their secret to themselves.48a On a hill, named Chatar-wāri, the Emperor raised his white canopy every day like the sun, and as is the custom of rulers, attended to the administration of the army. He ordered the eastern wrestlers (pahlwāns) to draw the westerners (magẖribīs). Other warriors began to place heavy stones in the ‘arm’ (palla) of the magẖrabi—for, except the arm of the magẖrabī, nothing else could measure their strength. Every warrior, as he raised the stone with his strength, made his hand a pillar for the hill that had no pillars. The army of Solomon dealt strokes, like those of David, on the fort that reminded them of Seba. On Monday, 11 Muḥarram, A.H. 703, the Solomon of the age, seated on his aerial throne, went into the fort, to which birds were unable to fly. The servant (Amīr Khusrau), who is the bird of this Solomon, was also with him. They cried, ‘Hudhud! Hudhud!’ repeatedly. But I would not return; for I feared Sulṭān’s wrath in case he inquired, ‘How is it I see not Hudhud, or is he one of the absentees?’ And what would be my excuse for my absence if he asked, ‘Bring to me a clear plea’? If the Emperor says in his anger, ‘I will chastise him,’ how can the poor bird have strength enough to bear it?48b It was the rainy season when the white cloud of the ruler of land and sea appeared on the summit of this high hill. The Rāī, struck with the lightning of the Emperor’s wrath and burnt from hand to foot, sprang out of the stone-gate as fire springs out of stone; he threw himself into the water and flew towards the Imperial pavilion, thus protecting himself from the lightning of the sword. Wherever there is a brazen vessel, the Hindūs say, there lightning falls; and the Rāī’s face had turned as yellow as brass through fear. Surely he would not have been safe from the lightning of the arrow and the sword, if he had not come to the door of the royal pavilion.
49a On the day the yellow-faced Rāī sought refuge in the red canopy from fear of the green swords, the great Emperor (May his prosperity continue!) was still crimson with rage. But when he saw the vegetarian Rāī trembling with fear, like the trampled and withered grass under the Imperial tent,—though the Rāī was a rebel, yet the breeze of royal mercy did not allow any hot wind to blow upon him. All the storm of the Emperor’s wrath vented itself against the other rebels. He ordered that wherever a green Hindū was found, he was to be cut down like dry grass. Owing to this stern order, thirty thousand Hindūs were slain in one day. It seemed that the meadows of Khiẓrābād had grown men instead of grass. After the wind of Imperial wrath had uprooted all the muqaddams,49b he rid the land of its two colours, and helped the raīyats, the cultivators of the land, among whom no thorn raises its head, to grow. The roots and branches of this azure edifice were assigned to the grand tree of the grand Empire, Khiẓr Khān and given the name of ‘Khiẓrābād’. The red canopy was placed over Khiẓr Khān’s head, like the red heaven over the blue sky. He wore a robe of honour ornamented with jewels, as the sky is inlaid with stars. Two banners, black and green, were raised so high above his threshold that the Saturn and the Sun were struck with melancholy and bile. Further, his court was adorned by a baton (dūrbāsh) of two colours, each of which seemed a tongue from the solar lamp. Thus by scattering rubies and diamonds and roses, the Emperor made the existence of his son prosperous and honourable. Then freed from the affairs of Khiẓr Khān and Khiẓrābād, he took hold of his successful bridle and brought his stirrups from the green meadows (of Khiẓrābād) to Sīrī. 49c After the 10th of Muḥarram, the banner of the successor of the Prophet (May it rise higher and higher!), having wonderfully predominated over the head of the Hindūs, was ordered to be moved to the City of Islām, Delhī. He (the Emperor) made the killing of all Hindūs, who were out of the pale of Islām, such an obligation on his infidel-smiting sword (Ẓulfiqār) that should Muslim schismatics (rāfiẓīs) in these days even nominally demand their rights, the pure Sunnis would swear in the name this rightful Caliph of God.50a
In the second conquest of Deogīr, its Rāī was captured and then set free. 51a Rāī Rām Deo was a wild horse that had once before come within the halters of the Imperial officers and had been trained with the horse-breaker’s whip, which disciplines a demon (deo). But then the Imperial horsemen had, with the greatest kindness, left him the desired meadows of his ancient Demon-land (Deo-lākh),51b and like a well-fed horse he had forgotten the neck-breaking bridle and became headstrong and refractory. The Emperor of the celestial throne sent the Malik Nāīb Bār-bek51c (May God strengthen the whip of his authority!) to capture the runaway. With him were sent thirty thousand horse-breakers, scourge in hand, to train the haughty horses of the rebel army. They easily accomplished a march of three hundred farsangs without drawing their bridles and fell on that army of horses who had turned away from their head-stalls. On Saturday, the 19th of Ramaẓan, 706 A.H. the (Imperial) horsemen were ordered to lead their horses to the charge and to moisten their swords, which were cold as lilies, with blood from necks of the gabrs. The rebel army fled and its scattered ranks were torn by further differences. The Rāi’s son ran away on his horse. Most of the Hindū soldiers, sewn together by shots of arrows and spears, fled to the regions of the under-world. The troops that survived were cut into two parts by the dividing sword. One half of them in excessive fear turned away their horses from the battle-field and fled with the Rāī’s son, for their souls were flying away from their bodies as an unruly horse flies off from the rider’s hands. The rest capitulated and gave up their horses to the Qandkash of the prisoners. The Muslim horsemen being victorious, the Malik-i Sahkash52a ordered that such booty as was fit for the troopers should be given back to them, while things only suitable for the Sublime Court —fleet-footed horses that flew over the plain, hill-like elephants (whose feet) wore away the rocks, treasures which surpassed all imagination —were reviewed, recorded and then entrusted to the officers of (the royal) horse and elephant stables and the treasury.
52b As the Emperor had ordered the ‘tongue’ of the sword to take as much care as possible of the Rāī and his relatives in the battle-field, the great Commander restricted his efforts to catching the refractory Rām Deo and most of his men alive. But as their heads had wavered from loyalty, first the yoke of Imperial authority, which is supreme over all its rivals, was placed on their criminal necks. Yes, he put (the yoke) so tightly that their jugular veins nearly snapped asunder. But the New Messiah, i.e., the rightly guided Sulṭān, knew in his forgiving heart that fear of his punishing sword had taken out all life from their bodies; so he blew his spirit into them and brought them to life again. When all these people had regained their life by the blowing of the Sulṭān’s ‘breath’ (favour) upon them, the Malik Naib brought them to the Baitul Ma‘mūr of Jesus (Delhī), that they may see the life-giving holy spirit with their own eyes. And the holy spirit gave them the good news of an eternal existence. 52c As none but benevolent images are formed in the mirror of the Second Alexander, therefore in spite of the signs of rebellion he had seen in Rām Deo, he took the Rāī under the ramparts of his protection and forgiveness and considered the inverted images, which appeared in the latter’s rusty iron heart, the refraction of a worthless looking-glass. And he raised the Rāī to such a high dignity, that owing to the strength of his good fortune, his face was never for a single moment away from the mirror on the knees (of the Second Alexander). The Rāī was indeed fortunate when the Hindī sword of the Emperor became a breast-plate for the protection of his honour. An order (sharf-nāma) of Alexander also made this clear. When avenging fate ceased to hate the rebellion of the Hindū, the sword of the Alexander turned into a mirror before his eyes. For full six months the fortunate Rāī remained in the rays of Imperial favour, as the crescent bends its back in the service of the Sun; day by day his honour and dignity increased, till in the course of time he attained to the orbit of his prosperity like the full moon. The Sun of the Empire honoured him with a blue canopy, and arrayed in all pomp, he moved to his own permanent constellation. May God protect the Sulṭān, for he sustains his subjects, like the moon, with his benevolent rays.53a
Account of the conquest of Siwāna, which became Khairābād, by the Imperial sword (May it be preserved for ever!). 53b When the lions of the august threshold had subdued all surrounding animals with their powerful strokes, so that for five hundred farsangs from the royal garden no tiger was left, which the lions of the Imperial army need trouble their claws about, the Imperial horseman became tired of the inactivity and wished to let his swift-footed horses wander at will for a few days in the hunting-field. On Wednesday, the 11th Muḥarram, 710 A.H. the standards of the army were moved (out of Delhī) for the campaign; and they shook as the heart of a wild beast beats when there is a sheep in the forest. 53c It is the custom of the world-conqueror not to return from any of his flights without reducing the fort and overpowering its possessor. He raised his wings to fly from Imperial Delhī to Siwāna, a distance of one hundred farsangs, and besieged that fort which was an asylum of wild robbers. Upon the hill he saw a fort so high that the eagle could not reach its summit in ten flights. In it sat a gabr, named Satal Deo, like the Sīmurgh53d on the Caucasus. Several thousand other gabrs sat on the top of the hill, like so many mountain-vultures, ready to have themselves torn. Like stone-eating birds they opened their mouths and waited till the magẖrabī-stones began to fly to them from every side. Then some of them fell down like sparrows and their gizzards were broken into atoms, while others fluttered their wings and feet and gave up the ghost. The men of the army threw up their hats to catch these household birds and cut them to pieces. How long could the game continue?54a Towards the east the Sun of the Earth54b (May God elevate him to the constellation of the Lion!) sat on a throne with lion’s feet and with tiger’s eyes engraved over it. He ordered the swordsmen of the right wing to attack the southern side of the fort, while the lions of the left wing attacked it from the north. The manjanīqs on the west were entrusted to Malik Kamāluddīn Gurg (the wolf); for he excelled in killing lions as much as the wolf excels in killing sheep. The magẖrabīs under the command of the ‘wolf’ made a cave in the hill with every shot. Finally, the head of the pāshīb reached the summit of the hill. By the order of the Emperor, the heroes of the army marched over the elephantine pāshīb and fell on the animals within the fort. But as the besieged were brave and haughty, they did not fly though their heads were cut into pieces. Those who attempted to fly were chased and caught. Some were sent to sleep like hares with strokes of the hunter’s spear; others were ground down to flour under the magẖrabī stones. The brave warriors of the (Imperial) army redoubled their shots at their enemies of māsh54c to grind down the latter between two stones for their bread at dinner; others they minced into meat and gave a feast to animals of all kinds. On that day of battle, from the appearance of the false dawn to the last flicker of light the infidels were slain and streams of blood were made to flow. 54d Some Hindū birds, with many deceptions, fled away from the battle with their leader; before the Mussalmāns could catch them, they sprang up from their nests and tried to fly to Jālore. But the swift-footed servants of the Emperor got news of this and laid an ambush for them. Some they prevented from proceeding further; others they slew, till the wild, black crow of darkness assumed a white colour, i.e. the night had been succeeded by the morning. On the morning on Tuesday, the 23rd Rabīul Awwal, the dead body of Satal Deo was brought before the lions of the Imperial threshold. People were struck with wonder at the grandeur of the Gurg (wolf) and the terrific strength of his arrow-shot.
The campaign against the wild animals being over, the intrepid Emperor ordered his lion-hearted slave, Kamāluddīn Gurg, to hunt the beasts of the forest, and was confident that if the clouds rained sharp arrows instead of drops of water, the ‘wolf’ would not raise up his shield over his head, for he had known many such showers. The just protector of his subjects entrusted the cattle to the ‘wolf’, in order that he may guard the young she-goats from the thorns of the territory. In a single hunting excursion such a famous victory befell the Emperor. He moved his standard towards the ‘Platform of the Lions’ 55a (chautra-i shīrān) and the crescent banner was brought to the ‘Constellation of the Lion (Delhī)’.55b
Now I will describe the conquest of Tilang in such a way, that the feet of imagination will become lame in following my pen! 56a After conquering many regions of the south, the brilliant judgment of the Sulṭān of East and West came to the conclusion that the swarms of Arangal must be trampled under the crescent horse-shoe of the army. On 25th Jamādiul Awwal, 709 A.H. the Nausherwān of the age ordered his Buzurchmehr,56b accompanied by the red canopy of the ‘Shadow of God’ and an army like the stars and planets of the sky, to lead his lucky horses to the south. The ruby canopy of the Sun of Sulṭāns, like a cloud that becomes red as the sun shines upon it, began to move towards the sea of Ma‘bar. And as it commenced its flight at the Emperor’s order, you would think it was a cloud, which Mecca-going winds were carrying towards the sea. Following this sky tied with ropes, the stars and planets of the army moved on, stage after stage; after nine days the fortunate star of the state (i.e. the wazīr of the Empire) arrived at a propitious moment at Mas‘ūdpūr. At this place, which is named after the son of the Emperor Mas‘ūd, the foot of the standard remained stationary for two days. On Monday, the 6th Jamādīus Ṯānī, the crescent standard of the Empire, with the maliks and other ‘stars’, began to move rapidly forward. It was the first part of the month. Every night the moon enlarged its flame and raised it higher to help the night marches of the army. And though the sun, the ‘Mecca’ of the Hindūs, looked fiercely at the Mussalmāns, the feet of the army threw dust into its eye. Yes, the eye that looks fiercely at such an army deserves no other antimony but black dust. 57a The path before them was extremely uneven; there were innumerable clefts in it, such that if the wind passed through them, it would fall as water falls into a well, or if (flames of) fire ran over them, they would bow down their heads to the earth. Owing to the rapidity of the streams, the ground at the foot of the hills had broken into many fissures. Every mound had a hundred thousand pointed thorns stuck to its head; the very idea of cutting such rocks and thorns made the hair of a pair of scissors stand upon its body like thorns. Through such a forest the obedient army passed, file after file, as if that perfect wilderness were the ‘straight path’. After six days of marching, the army crossed five rivers—Jūn, Chambal, Kunwārī, Binās, Bhojī57b—at the fords and came to Sulṭānpūr, known as Irijpūr. Here the army remained for four days. 57c On the 19th Jamādīus Sānī, the Malik of the brilliant fortune57d mounted his horse, and the ‘stars’ of the Empire began to move. The rider was above, the horse was below; it looked as if ‘stars’ were riding on the backs of the planets. 57e From farsang to farsang every stone on the way had its ‘head’ broken by the hoofs of the horses though nothing came out of its ‘skull’. The movement of cloven-footed baggage bearers despoiled the earth of its bloom. The swift pāīks (footmen) rent the hills with their iron feet; indeed, as these pedestrians hurried over the ground with firmness and impetuosity, on one side the stones pierced into the soles of their feet, while on the other, their feet removed the skin from the skulls of the stones.
58a After thirteen days, on the first of Rajab, the army arrived at Khanda. In such a wilderness the month of God58b came forward to welcome the Muslim army, and showed great kindness to the pious men, who had travelled under the hot sun for three months. Here a muster of the holy warriors was held for fourteen days. The angels sent their blessings. The prayer for victory came to the ‘ears’ of Rajab, and it hurried forward with the joyful news of future victories like those of the past.
On this auspicious occasion all the maliks, officers and leading men of the army gathered together before the red canopy, and kept their days alive by hearing prayers for the Jesus-like Emperor; moreover by keeping the ‘fast of Mary’ (rūza-i-Maryam), they collected provisions for their future life. There can be no doubt that an extremely pious assembly had gathered round the sky-shadowing canopy; even the saints (aūtād) were present. They held fast to the ‘strong cord’, and no (differences) had any place amongst them. The august month of Rajab heard with solemnity and joy the prayers for the Emperor and for victory. 58c Next morning, after the ‘fast of Mary’, the army again advanced like a raging deluge. Through rivers and torrents it passed. Every day it came to a new land; in every land it came across a new river in which the quadrupeds rolled like five-footed animals. Though all the rivers were crossed, yet the Narbada looked like a remnant of the primeval deluge. As the miraculous power of the Emperor-Sulṭān was with the officers of the kingdom, the deep rivers became dry as the dust of the army approached them, and the Mussalmāns crossed them with ease. Eight days after crossing the Narbada, the army reached Nīlkanth. When these wide rivers make a way for the Imperial army to cross, there would be nothing wonderful if it also forded through the Nile of Egypt and the Tigres of Baghdad.
58d As Nīlkanth was on the border of Deogīr, and the territories of the Rāī Rāyān, Ram Deo, had now been reached, the wazīr, acting according to the Emperor’s orders, protected the country from being plundered by the troops, who were as innumerable as ants and locusts. No one dared touch the door or the wall of a building or take anything from the barns or fields of the peasant. The stores of the ants did not become the food of the locusts.59a The drums, which sounded to march, were detained here for two days in order to make inquiries about the stages in advance. On Wednesday, the 26th Rajab, the movement of the army again shook the bowels of the earth, and the ground began to rise up and go down like the belly of a Khafkhāna-blower. Trampling the earth under their feet and splitting stones with force, the army defiled through such a dangerous path. In sixteen days the difficult road to Tilang was traversed. The ground was overlaid with hard rocks, which the Hindūs had often (vainly) attempted to cross; yet these heavy rocks flew away like dust at the feet of the quadrupeds of the Muslim army. The eye of the sky gazed in wonder; for the road went up and down like the subtle wit of a clever cheat and was at the same time as long as a miser’s greed. And in attempting to describe its hills and caverns, the intelligence of the panegyrist would bow its head in wonder. 59b The path was narrower than a guitar string and darker than a beauty’s locks. At times it was like a hole in a reed: when the wind attempted to pass through it, it came out reverberating. The river-banks were so steep that it would have been difficult for a duck, or even an eagle, to cross them. Pretending that they knew the way, nimble-bodied men attempted to ascend the heights on either side; but their feet slipped all of a sudden; their attempts to catch hold of the steep sides were ineffectual; and rubbing their hands together, they fell down with innumerable wounds. The neighing horses, that danced in the air, would fall down in a moment owing to one false step. Yes! Many a dancing horse flew swift as the wind; but once its foot slipped down the hillside, it tumbled and fell. 59c Furthermore, as the dark-faced cloud brought forth its unfinished pearls to worry the people of the army, the wind struck it hard on the neck, and all its water was shed. Whenever the forked lightning laughed at the slipping feet of the army, the thunder roared so loudly at the latter that it immediately disappeared. You would have thought that the cloud was envious of the ocean-like palm of the Emperor’s hand, but being powerless to do anything at the Imperial Court, sought consolation by attacking the army. The lightning, on the other hand, had been struck with fire by the Imperial sword; but unable to display its impudence in the Emperor’s presence had gone thither to reveal its burning heart. 60a Though the holy warriors met many obstacles in this journey, yet they had girded their loins sincerely for the sake of Allāh alone, and had their eyes on that final reward, the hope of which sustains the human heart. Consequently, they did not regard their sufferings as serious. In a thousand ways the assistance of Heaven, too, was with them. Good fortune accompanied young and old over hills and valleys, rocks and thorns, desert and forest, even as victory accompanies the Muslim standard.
60b After passing with determination and rapidity through those hills and plains, they arrived at a Doāb within the borders of Basīrāgarh.60c It was enclosed by the two rivers, Yashar and Būjī.60d A diamond mine was said to exist there. But as the power of Imperial sword, through the strength of which all the treasures of the rāīs have come into the hands of Muslim soldiers, had given strength to the officers of the state, they did not care to take handfuls of earth from the pits; for it is easier for powerful swordsmen to seize jewels with the sword than to dig them out of the earth with the spade. 60e About this time the Malik, with the impetuosity of a dragon, left the difficulties of the winding path, and with some dare-devil horsemen, marched against the fort of Sarbar, which belonged to the kingdom of Tilang. The saddles were still stinging like scorpions on the backs of the horses, when he ordered the warriors to make a circle round the fort. The archers shot their arrows from outside. ‘Strike!’ ‘Strike!’ cried the Hindūs from within. The rāwats of the Rāī were so bitten by the poisoned arrows, that they wished to take refuge in the holes of ants for protection, and like thousand-footed animals crept into every corner. The arrows had made snake-holes in the bodies of many and their lives were in danger. The movement of crocodile-like warriors shook the earth to the back of the Fish.60f 60gWhen the swift arrows, with fiery flames at the end of their wood-pieces, began to fly forward to burn the houses of the infidels, their faces grew dark at the approach of this wall of fire. In the excess of their folly, they drew the fire on to themselves; i.e. all of them with their wives and children threw themselves into fire and went to hell. For fire is the reward of the enemies of Allāh! The exterior of the fort became bright owing to this illumination of the pit of hell. The bodies of the victors were like flints in armours of steel; they cast away their armours and jumped up from the rocks as a spark flies out of flint. At this moment the breeze of victory suddenly blew fast, and the flames inside the fort rose higher still. The impetuous soldiers of the Muslim army drew their swords like so many tongues of fire, climbed up the fort, and falling on the half-burnt mass, put to death with their Hind-steel those whom fire had spared. Matters having come to this, the remaining muqaddams of the fort also wished to sacrifice themselves in the same element. At this instant, the ‘Arz-i Mumālik, Sirājuddīn, saw that it was time to light the lamp of victory. Anānīr, the brother of the muqaddam of the fort, had hidden himself in the cultivated fields of that land. The ‘Arz-i Mumālik ordered him to be captured and given a severe chastisement. At first, allured with soft words, he was kept for being beheaded and burnt; but, next, this low-burning lamp of the Hindūs (i.e. Anānīr) was given a tongue (to ask) for his life, so that before morning the flame of insurrection might subside.61a As the smoke of destruction rose from this fort to the sky, some refugees from the burning edifice, with their eyes full of water, fled to Rāī (Laddar Deo), and like moist wood, with weepings and wailings, gave vent to the inner sorrow of their hearts. The Rāī, who possessed elephants and troops, was also overcome by fear but he did not think it advisable to advertise it. So he bewailed his fate for a while and thus soothed his inner sadness. But when the fire of misfortunes is lit, tears from the eyes burn in it like oil.
61b On Saturday, the 10th of Sha’bān, they marched from here determined to plant the tree of virtue in the land of Tilang and to uproot with the greatest force the tree of vice, that had fixed its roots there. On the 16th Sha’bān the true believers arrived at the village of Kūnarbal. While the pious standard was being planted, the Malik Nāīb, commander of the army of heaven, ordered a thousand swift horsemen—and they were such that the crow of victory did not build its nest except on their bows!—to go forward and capture a few infidels, though the daggers of the latter may be as numerous as the leaves of a willow, in order to make inquiries from them about the condition of the country. When this force reached the gardens of Arangal, the iron of their horse-shoes turned green from walking over the grass. Two famous officers with forty mounted horsemen went forward and reached the summit of the Anamkanda Hill, from where they could see all the suburbs and gardens of Arangal.62a On looking carefully from the hill, four swift Hindū horsemen came into sight. The Musalamāns drew their bows and ran after them. They succeeded in knocking down one of the four with a four-feathered arrow and sent him to the Commander-in-Chief. The latter took it as a good omen. ‘Thus with my sword’, he said, ‘will I peel away the skin from the heads of such Hindūs as rebels’.
62b When the army reached Arangal, the red canopy rubbed its head with the clouds. At midday the Malik Nāīb, accompanied by a few men, went to reconnoitre the fort (of Arangal). He saw a fort, the like of which is not to be found on the face of the earth. 62c Its wall, though of mud, was so hard that a spear of steel could make no impression upon it; if a magẖrabī-stone were to strike it, it would rebound like a nut thrown by a child. Its earthen towers were stronger than Taurus, and the Orion only came up to its waist. Nevertheless, the standards of infidelity trembled on the top of all the towers in expectation of their downfall, while the ‘irādas of Hindūs wept from fear of being broken. The warlike rawats, with all their heavy stones, had thrown themselves into the sling of destruction; some of them were collecting stones for the munjaniqs; others, who had no stones, were busy in throwing bricks and javelins. That day the victorious Malik carefully selected the ground for the army-camp and returned. Next morning he intended to carry the battle forward, and in good news, to throw stones at the heads of the Hindūs. 63a When morning dawned and the sun rose, the sky-towering standard of the eastern Empire was raised up and brought to Anamkonda. Once more the great Malik went round the fort to re-examine the ground for the army-camp. The tents were to be pitched side by side, as the Aquarius lies in the neighbourhood of the Pisces.
63b It was the 15th of Sha’bān, when in the middle of the month of the Prophet, the ruby canopy was fixed so high that it over-topped the Ramaẓān crescent. On that night Khwāja Nasīrul Mulk Sirajuddoulah (May God illuminate the nights of his life!) personally arranged the troops with a lighted lamp. Every division was sent to its appointed place, in order to surround the fort and to protect the besiegers from the shots of the besieged and from whatever compounds of air and fire the latter might bring forth to set fire to the external wall of bronze. 63c When the august canopy had been fixed a mil from the gate of Arangal, the tents around the fort were pitched together so closely that the ‘head’ of a needle could not go between them. Inside the fort the Hindūs slept at ease, like reclining yard-measures; outside the watchmen of the Imperial army were wide awake. Every tumān was assigned one thousand two hundred yards of land; the total circumference of the fort, as enclosed by the tents, was twelve thousand five-hundred and forty-six yards.63d The land of infidelity was made to look like a cloth market owing to the innumerable tents.
63e The victorious army drew into ranks like the teeth of a saw and the heart of the Hindūs was cut into two. Every soldier was ordered to erect a Kāth-garh (wooden defence) behind his tent. Immediately all hatchets became busy and every soldier was transformed into Ishāq, the wood-cutter. Trees that had never been molested by the stones of those who wished to eat their fruits, were now felled with iron axes in spite of their groans; and the Hindūs, who worship trees, were unable to come to the rescue of their gods in their need. Every accursed tree in that land of infidelity was cut down to its roots. Clever carpenters sharpened their instruments on the tree-trunks and soon cut them into proper shape with their axes. Finally, a wooden fence was built round the army. It was so strong, that if fire had rained from the sky, the wooden fort would have been as safe from fire as Noah’s ark was from water.
64a When the Hindū-faced evening had made a night-attack on the sun and sleep had closed the portals of the eyes and besieged the fort of the pupil,64b the watchmen, with their shields on their backs and their drawn swords in their hands, drew into a double row to keep guard over the Imperial camp and with the strokes of their eyelashes drove sleep out of their eyes. Near midnight, when the meteors had begun to shoot towards the besieged demons and the moon had brought forth its full shield, a thousand swift Hindū horsemen from the troops of Bānik Deo, the muqaddam of that country, made a night-attack on the Muslim army with demonish cries and the Hindī sword. God forbid that such an army should fear such an attack! 64c As a matter of fact, the crocodiles of the besieging army who had themselves been waiting in an ambush for this armoured fish caught the latter with their Hindī swords like fish in a net. From fear of the enemy’s maces and clubs, the Hindūs drew their heads into their armours like tortoises. The heads of the rāwats rolled like crocodile-eggs on the fish-backed earth. In an instant many of these aquatic creatures had been drowned in a deluge of their own blood and lay like slaughtered fish. Those wounded by spears and arrows cried as frogs cry when caught by snakes. Others who tried to run away received wounds on their backs, which like cancer-sores opened a door for the entry of death. 64d Finally, most of the Hindūs were either killed, overpowered or driven away. Some of them cut off their horse-belts in order to fly more quickly, but the anvil-piercing holy warriors came out of their iron lines and pursued them, determined to strike the Hindī sword at infidel hearts. Every Hindū found in the neighbourhood was either slain with the Hindī sword and the Tatār-arrow or sent as a prisoner to the army.
Now some of the prisoners happened to declare that in the town of Dahdūm, six farsangs from Tilang, three elephants, such as could tear up the back of a hill with their iron teeth, had been secretly hidden. Immediately, at the order of the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial army, three thousand brave horsemen, led by Qarā Beg Maisarah, galloped away in that direction. But when they reached the said fort, the elephants had been carried further still and inevitably a further distance had to be traversed. Thanks to the unlimited good fortune of the Emperor, all the three elephants fell into the hands of his officers. The elephants, on their part, were busily pulling their chains in their anxiety to reach the Imperial Court. When they were brought to the army camp, the war-like Malik considered the acquisition of these three iron forts a great achievement and kept them, along with the other elephants, for the Imperial stables. Indeed, he had seen all this in the mirror of his sword and without the help of any conjurer or fortune-teller.
65a As the Commander-in-Chief of the army, who was also the Imperial Chamberlain, was very fond of polo (chaugān), he ordered his enthusiastic men to go on playing the game against the muqaddams of Laddar Deo, day after day. He motioned to them with his brow, that wheresoever they came across a desperate rāwat, they were to take his head for a ‘ball’ and bring it to their camp. Having received this wide permission, the sportive horsemen considered it a great fun to separate the heads from the bodies of a very large number. Every horseman in the army whipped his animal and in several matches brought away the ‘balls’ of those desperate Hindū warriors; for you might consider their blood-smeared heads as coloured balls brought to the presence of the chaugān-loving Malik. Further, the Malik ordered stone-balls for the maghrabis to be collected all round the fort; so that with the strokes of the balls the fort may be won and reduced to dust in another match. 65b As the external munjaniqs drew their strength from the virtuous tree of faith, they did great damage to the infidel edifice, but the inner ‘irādas, being constructed from the tree of infidelity, naturally yielded before the impetuosity of Muslim stones. The stones of the Mussalmāns all flew high, owing to the power of ‘the strong cable,’ and hit the mark, while the balls of the Hindūs were shot feebly as from a Brahman’s thread, and consequently went wrong.
66a When the sābāts and gargajes were completed and rose so high that the garrison of the fort was placed suddenly on a lower elevation, the fort ditch began to talk of its great depth to the Muslim army. Though the latter looked sternly at it and took measure of its depth, it would not allow the army to cross; and opening wide its two lips, spoke of the security of the fort. Ultimately, the Mussalmāns threw mud into its mouth, and filled it in so completely that its two lips were joined together. Of this there could be no doubt. Further, one wing of the fort-wall, for about the length of a hundred hands, was broken so thoroughly by the stroke of large stones, that it could not rise high enough to embrace the Hindūs below the arm-pits. On the other side, also, the havoc wrought by the maghrabi stones had created new doors in the gate-wall. All these doors of victory which Divine assistance had opened for the Imperial officers Yes every crack in the enemy’s wall is a door of victory for the friend. 66b When owing to the continuous piling up of the earth, a mound had risen from the bottom of the ditch to the waist of the fort, and the mud wall of the fort had become a heap of dust from the strokes of the stone-balls, they desired to construct a pāshib so wide that files of hundred men abreast may ascend over it to the fort. But the construction of the pāshib would have taken a few days; and Victory, in her haste, was dancing on the sword’s point. The rightly guided Wazir called the Malīks to a council of discussion, and their correct judgment was to the effect, ‘that before the construction of the pāshib, a hand-to-hand struggle should be attempted, and as Victory is on our side, may be she will come running.’
66c The night of Tuesday, the 11th Ramaẓān, was so bright that its shining moon imparted it the brilliance of Lailatul Qadr.66d The tarāwth prayers asked for heavenly help with a loud voice. The blessing of the fasting day had collected the rewards of the victors, and Fortune used the lock of the night as her ladder for descending from heaven to earth. The Pleiades had lifted their hand in prayer that key of victory may fall into them! 66e The exalted Wazir ordered high ladders and all other requisites to be constructed in every division (khail) in the course of the night, whenever the drum beat to action, everyone was to come out of his entrenchment and carry the ladders to the fort, so that the work of victory might be exalted step by step. When in the morning the sun in Gemini had clothed the sky with a waist-band of light, the holy warriors ran towards water and took off their socks in order to put on their armour. 67a After performing their ablution—and every drop of ablution-water is a sharp arrow for Satan’s heart, for ablution is a Mussalmān’s armour!—they were ready for prayer and turned their faces towards God. The Sah-kash also bowed in the obligatory prayer, and raised his hands to ask Heaven for victory and success. He begged the ‘King of Khaibar’67b to plead before God, from whom all good originates, for the reduction of the fort, and instantly the keys of victory fell into his hands from the Unseen Gate. Some waiting was, however, still necessary, for everything has its appointed time.
67c When the golden shield of the sun had risen a spear high, the Malik Nāīb ordered his men to begin the attack and the blood of the ‘gabrs’ was shed in the worthless fort even as the Censor of morals throws away carnation-coloured wine. The beat of the leathern drum—‘and the thunder declares His glory with His praise’— resounded through the vault of the sky. The trumpets of the holy warriors raised their voices on every side. ‘Here! I am for you,’ cried Victory as she came running. Bold men with scaling ropes began to jump up to the fort-wall like lions in the forest. The arrows fell thick like showers of the rainy season and pierced the breast of the Hindūs even as rain drops get into the mothers-of-pearl. Powerful diggers, with the greatest noise, sat down to open a way into the fort. One half of the earthen fort flew up like dust to the sky; the other half threw itself down to seek protection from the ground. The excellent bow of the Turks rubbed its sides with the sky and claimed to be the bow of Rustam, while their arrows, all flying together, looked like the cloud of Bahman. Others had applied their spades to the fort-wall; you would have thought they were ‘arguing away’ the foundations of the edifice with their eloquent tongues. Some had thrust their sword-points into the solidified earth as if determined to carve fine figures out of it. The wooden ladders raised their feet to the highest elevation from the greatest depth for the sake of Islām; and the earthen fort threw the Hindūs down from its height in order to degrade infidelity. The magẖribīs outside exchanged shots with the ‘irādas inside the fort; it seemed as if young men and veiled brides were throwing loving stones at each other; for either side exercised the greatest attraction, and with unclosing eyes marked the thousand tricks of the other. If one ball was discharged from outside, it fell as two balls within; but if two balls were discharged from within, no misfortune befell the proclaimers of the one God. Praise be to God for his exaltation of the Muslim faith! There can be no doubt that stones are worshipped by the gabrs; but, as they were unable to give their worshippers any assistance, the gabrs threw them up to the sky and then down to the earth. And it was proper that the stones should be struck against the ground. Next some footmen of the Muslim army climbed with their hand-nails over the earthen fort; and having found the moon in the Taurus, they permanently purchased the land and buildings of that territory with the Alāī coin.68a Though the fort had been so excellently constructed, that there was nothing on its walls that one could catch hold of or lay one’s finger on, yet the besiegers clung to it with the edges of their nails; and even as a wise man overcomes a fool, they boldly climbed to the summit of the fort. And God enabled them to bring one wing of the fort into their strong and powerful hands. That night they established themselves there in force, and broke the legs of those who wanted to dislodge them.
On Sunday, the 13th Ramaẓān—Sunday, being a day dedicated to the Sun—the sun had so illuminated the night, that it merged insensibly into the day, thus giving the holy warriors a greater time for action. As the moon withdrew its shield beyond the western horizon, the men of the army drew their swords and attacked the fort from the east. The drummers awakened the sleeping war-drum which leapt up from its sleep at their beats; and it seemed that the four elements of the sphere would dissolve into chaos at its noise. The war cries of the warriors, the sounds of ‘Huzza! Huz!’ and ‘Khuzza! Khuz!’ resounded through the world.69a The assistance sent from the smoky sky for the Muslim army descended through the ethereal sphere; and bringing fire with it from there, fell on the gabr’s places of refuge. And in its liberality with human life, the fire turned these stingy people into enormous heaps of ashes. When the tongues of fire had descended low, the standard of the Sulṭanate rose on the fort. All praises are for Allah who raised it so high!
69b By Wednesday, a day dedicated to Mercury (Archer), the Emperor’s fierce troops had as easily entered the mud fort as a warrior’s arrow breaks through and upsets a bubble. The inner fort, which resembled the (Arabian) Khaibar, was invested. No Hindū was allowed to cross the line of the besiegers just as dogs had not been allowed to come out of Khaibar (by the Mussalmāns); if a Hindū had attempted to do so, his heart would have been cut open by the arrow that could pierce through seven plates of steel. When the Alexandrian lines had surrounded the inner fort by a wall of iron, they saw a building, the stones of which rose up to the sky; and even the sky had raised its mirror higher (lest it might break from contact) with the rocky towers. Its stones were joined so carefully together that the head of a needle could not get in between them; its walls were so smooth that a fly attempting to sit on them would have slipped down. Its stones and plaster had been welded so excellently together that the tongue of the spade was unable to separate them. In addition to this, there was such a wonderful charm in its walls and buildings that no maghrabī had the heart to do them any wrong. You might say that the fort was a stiff spear, which the ant could not climb, or else that it was a flute, in which the wind lost itself as in a wooden pipe. Its towers stood upright in the air and ascended to the moon; its foundations sank deep in the earth, down to the Fish. The watchman on its towers bathed his head with the clouds; the digger at its foundations washed his feet with water.
69c When the multitudinous army came to the lip of the ditch, they found its mouth full of water; if anyone talked to it about crossing to the other side, it tried to drag him down to the bottom. The swordsmen of the army, however, would not float any boat on the ditch but determined to swim through it together. They practised on the face of the water every rule of mensuration they knew, and, in a moment, crossed the ditch, file after file, more easily than a boat would have done. They determined to sum up all their resolution and to bore holes into the stomach (of the fort) as in a reed. With the passion of Farhād, they wished to knock down the edifice so completely that it may not be propped up by a thousand columns and to pull down its towers with such force that the ‘heads’ of the towers would come down while their ‘feet’ went up. In short, they resolved to seize the fort so effectively from the Hindūs that even its dust might not be left in the latter’s hands. Yes, Yes, Even the dust is reluctant to remain with the infidel. 70a Rāī Laddar Deo sat inside the fort like a snake over buried treasure and called his people around him. His elephants pulled their chains in pride of the gold they bore; but the Rāī was thinking of his war with the golden scorpions and watery pearls trickled down his inner eye at the thought (of losing his enormous treasures). He wished to look into the future, but his eyes refused to obey him. He had been brave and courageous in the siege; yet whenever he reflected on the situation in which he was placed, his stout heart began to palpitate; and if he wished to remove the heaviness of his heart by saying farewell to all his treasures, his heart struck against his breast, and told him that it could not, at least, separate itself from so much gold as remains sticking to a black touchstone. 70b He had fastened his hopes on being able to place before the invaders an obstacle, which would cause them to stumble and retrace their steps. But the Emperor’s prestige overawed him; all his courage melted away and he was left a broken man. In his helplessness, he first collected in heaps the treasure he had buried under stones more heavy than can be dragged from the hills, in order to provide for his ransom. Next he constructed a golden image of himself, and in acknowledgment of having become a tribute-payer, he placed a golden chain round its neck and sent it through ambassadors, whose honest word was more unchanging than the purest gold, to the Commander of the Imperial army.
‘The opposition of the rice-made Hindū,’ ran the Rāī’s petition, ‘to the iron bodies of the Mussalmāns is like a silver-faced beauty challenging Rustam to battle. This being the case the servant, Laddar Deo, has been forced to lay aside his own bronze body in a corner. Fear of the Emperor’s Hindī sword has turned me pale, or, rather, my body of stone has become golden in the rays of the Imperial sun. Consequently, I have constructed an exact image of myself, which is being sent to promise tribute and obedience at the review. I hope the Imperial officers will intercede for me at the Court, and inform the Emperor that fear of him has rendered the broken body of this servant even more lifeless than this golden statue, and that I will only feel signs of life in myself on the day when the wind of Imperial favour blows over my dead body.
‘If the good-will of the officers of the world-protecting Court is to be won by treasure and valuables, I have as much gold with me as will suffice to gild all the mountains of Hind. All this immense gold belongs to the Emperor and I will not turn my face to it again. But if the world-adorning Imperial will, as a favour to the weak, gives back a few gold coins to this unfortunate Hindū, it will exalt him (Laddar Deo) to a dignity superior to that of all other Rāīs. For the desire of gold is found in every heart. It is only the mirror (heart) of the Second Alexander that can turn its back towards this metal, for his sword has absorbed the gold of the whole world. Concerning his sword only can the proverb, that “magnet draws iron and iron draws gold”, be true. And if the Emperor really wants the gold possessed by a poor man like me, so much the better! For what principality is more fortunate than the one which draws the Emperor’s heart towards itself. I will keep none of this gold-dust for myself, for my heart has been broken by the fear of Emperor’s infidel slaying sword. And every one knows, that when an earthen vessel breaks, you cannot repair it with gold-dust. 71a If precious stones, gems and pearls71b are demanded, I have a stock of them such as the eyes of the mountains have not seen and the ears of the fish have not heard of. All these will be scattered on the path of the Imperial officers. For if I do not scatter rubies on the road, over which the Emperor’s army comes advancing through hill and plain, my blood will be soon shed there.
72a ‘Of horses, too, I have twenty thousand, being of the mountain and foreign (baḥrī) breed.72b The foreign horse flies like wind on the surface of water, without even its feet becoming wet. And when the mountain-horse steps on a hill, the hill trembles like a Hindī sword.72c All these horses will be handed over, along with the slaves, to the royal stables. Nevertheless, in the extremity of shame, “the bride of self-possession” is slipping away from my hands, and I feel like using my shame as a horse and flying away upon it. For it is improper for me to display my potsherds and amber in the company of the noble. 72d There are also a hundred elephants, who will go to the Imperial Court with the greatest pleasure. They are the mad elephants of Ma‘bar, not the vegetarian elephants of Bengal. Most of them are new born and young, and are growing their teeth. They have heard of the elephant-slaying warriors of the Imperial army and, their ears have been opened; they draw a deed on the ground with their trunks to the effect that henceforth they will never turn their faces towards the Ka‘ba of Islām except in worship. They are coming with their feet like pillars and their heads like the dome of the gate of obedience—so that, if the Imperial officers choose to be angry at them, the elephants will submit to it with the “skirts” of their ears; and if order for the punishment of rebels is given, the elephants will execute it with their teeth. God has given them a forehead peculiarly fitted to render obedience at the Imperial Court. They are now scattering dust over their heads before the Hindū’s door, but in the Emperor’s presence their foreheads will have the vermilion colour of good fortune.
72e ‘In short, the servant, Laddar Deo, places all the treasures, elephants and horses he possesses in one scale of the balance and his life in the other. The servants of the Emperor can choose whichever they like. It is certain that life and property have the same weight as honour. If my wealth is taken and my life is left to me, I will be broken by the heavy anxiety of earning a livelihood; if my life is taken, the scale holding my wealth will sink to the ground. In either case the balance will be upset. This being the case, I consider myself a broken stirrup; it is for the just Emperor to set the balance right. If means of livelihood are left to me, I will collect all my “leaves” and hand them over to the Emperor’s officers at his command. If the forgiving Emperor (May the measure of his good deeds be heavy!) allows me to retain such wealth as is proportioned to my weightless life, after all I hold the stout heart of a Rāī and not the balance of a grocer. I will take the brave iron spear, which befits my hand, and measure myself against other Rāīs. I will seize treasures from them, and send to the Emperor such tribute as is fixed on me. And if there is the slightest deficit in the tribute, I will send my own life as a makeweight .’73a
73bWhen the messengers of the Rāī came before the red canopy, the honoured harbinger of victory and triumph, they rubbed their yellow faces on the earth till the ground itself acquired their colour; next they drew out their tongues in eloquent Hindī, more sharp than the Hindī sword, and delivered the message of the Rāī. The idol-breaking Malik comprehended the gilding of the Hindūs and paid no regard to their glozing speech. He would not even look at the golden statue, which he wished to throw back at their faces. But he communicated to the army the command of the Second Alexander, which is more firm than seven walls of steel and the garden of Shaddād.73c The Imperial officers swore by the head of Khiẓr Khān, the emerald in the ring of the kingdom, that they would accept the gold and raise the siege. As the mountain-rending troops were unable to violate the oath, and the coin of forgiveness had also been repeatedly issued from the Imperial Court, the decision arrived at was to the effect that they would subject the Rāī to a tribute, but as a charitable offering for the life of the forgiving Emperor, they would spare his life in exchange for the golden statue. They would take away and deliver at the Court all animals, vegetables and minerals which the Rāī’s territory contained; and if there was the slightest deficit in handing over the treasures agreed upon, they would render the Rāī as lifeless as the golden image and reduce the fort to a heap of ashes like a goldsmith’s forge. On this condition, the fort-conquering Malik stretched forth his right hand, placed his sword in its scabbard, and struck his open hand, by way of admonition, so forcibly on the backs of the ambassadors that they bent under the blow. Though the agreement was permanent and not provisional, yet the poor ambassadors trembled like quicksilver; and thus trembling and impatient, they hurried back to the fort. Their influence fell on the Rāī and he too began to shake like a gold-leaf. The ambassadors ornamented their speech, but the Rāī could not regain his stability, and wished to turn into mercury and run away. With some difficulty they ran this quicksilver into a vessel, and through soft speech put a little wax on its mouth.74a Next they busied themselves with alchemy in order to pay the gold they had promised.
74b The Rāī’s council spent the night in collecting their precious stones and valuables in order to present them next morning to the Imperial officers. When next day the sun showed its face through the enamelled fort, the ambassadors proved their promises to be as truthful as the dawn. With their elephants, treasures and horses, they arrived before the red canopy which is the roof of the eastern sun. The Malik summoned the leaders of the army and took his seat at the high place to which he had been appointed by the Emperor; the other great officers took their seats according to their positions, while the nobles and commons collected round like stars. Then the ambassadors were called. They placed their heads on the ground before the canopy of the ‘Shadow of God’ and presented their elephants to the assembly.75a The ‘Maliks’ sat while the elephants passed; you would have thought the planets had become stationary while the constellations had begun to move.
75b The elephants were such as neither the brush of the artist can portray nor the pen of the panegyrist describe. Every one of them was a throne fit for a king, and an ivory factory inside. It moved without props and yet stood on four columns. Its back was adorned by a jewelled litter; it sometimes carried a litter and sometimes a load. Its banner (trunk) rose from its back like a spear into the air, while its feet cast their shields (foot-prints) on the ground. It wore a dress of living velvet. Its furious onslaught could uproot a tree. Its tusks came out of either side, and in spite of their strength, had been plaited over with gold. Contented to live on rice, in its anger it could, nevertheless, drink up a whole pond. It threw forward its trunk like a rope, while its eyes remained behind as if in ambush. It would sit down respectfully when its driver wished to climb to its back. Entrusting the guardianship of its eyes to its ears, it had surrounded its two lamps (eyes) with soft cartilage and fed them with a gentle breeze by the movement of its ears. Its teeth were set firmly inside; its tusks rose like ivory pillars surrounded by gold. A tall building on four columns, it raised its head into the air, while its nose came to the ground; there was a crescent on its forehead, and its tail rested on its buttocks. It looked like a hill with a long sash for a nose, or else like a camel with a crocodile stuck to its front. It carried its wine-glass in its head, and liquor was distilled from its ears. Without any particular sorrow, it scattered dust over its head; without any weakness, its body felt heavy. It looked like a cloud arisen out of the sea-shore, wearing vermilion tulips on its forehead and green leaves in its ears. Every one of them had these qualities, and yet each was better than the other—for each was like the mountain and yet like the wind; soft to walk and firm to stand; Hindū-slayer and yet infidel property; baggage-carrier as well as warrior; it carried a load on its back and its face looked towards the Court, for if strong-necked, it was also obedient; the ebony-coloured manufacturer of ivory, it carried its head high and at the same time kissed the ground; a meet seat for the king, and a servant of the Court, its body was heavy and its paces were gentle; it could break the enemy-lines, and yet fight in ordered ranks. And when they move together in a row, there is an earthquake of Fad! Fad! and Saf! Saf!
76a After the elephants had passed, the treasures they carried on their backs were displayed. The boxes were full of valuables and gems, the excellence of which drove the onlookers mad. Every emerald (zabarjad) sparkled in the light of the sun, or, rather, the sun reflected back the light of the emerald. The rubies (yāqūt) dazzled the eye of the sun and if a ray from them had fallen on a lamp of fire, the lamp would have burst into flames. The ‘Cat’s eye’ (‘ainul hirrat) was such that a lion after seeing it would have looked with contempt at the sun; and the ‘Cock’s eye’ (‘ainud dīk) were so brilliant that the ‘Cat’s eye’ was afraid to look at it. The lustre of the rubies (la‘l) illuminated the darkness of the night and the mine, as you might light one lamp from another. The emeralds had a fineness of water that could eclipse the lawn of paradise. The diamonds (ilmās) would have penetrated into an iron heart like an arrow of steel, and yet owing to their delicate nature, would have been shattered by the stroke of a hammer. The other stones were such that the sun blushed to look at them. As for the pearls, you would not find the like of them, even if you kept diving into the sea through all eternity. The gold was like the full moon of the twelfth night; it seemed that in order to ripen it, that alchemist the sun, had lighted its fire, and the morning had blown its breath, for years.
76b When the horses were brought, the prestige of all that the ambassadors had previously displayed flew away like the wind. Lest the struggle should be further prolonged, every horse in the Rāī’s palace and stables had been brought; even the wind of them was not left in his hands. The sight of these fleet-footed animals captivated every heart—the heart of the Mussalmān was broken, and the soul of the Hindu flew away from his breast; for the horses were such as their eyes had never seen.
76c When the Rāī had sent through his clever ambassadors all that he had received by way of inheritance from his ancestors, the ‘Arīz-i Mumālik went to examine the jewels. He divided them into ‘genus’ and ‘species’, ‘class’ after ‘class’, and had everything written down. He then stood up and turned to the ambassadors. It was clear to his perfect judgment that the wealth and property of the Rāī had been wholly confiscated, and that no jewel had been kept away from its proper place. Yet as a diplomatic formality, he propounded ‘propositions’ before the wise ambassadors, and ultimately unfolded to them the ‘major’ and the ‘minor premises’. In an address, full of a variety of meaning, he put it to them: ‘You are acquainted with every “species” (of this treasure). If on investigation a single item is found missing, though your life is “indivisible”, yet will I destroy it; and with the stroke of the sword, I will divide your parts (limbs) into indivisible “atoms”. Take care and state the true premises! Tell me, as all the gems of the Rāī are excellent, has he sent the best of them hither? How has he classified “talking” and “neighing animals” (men and horses) and what portion of them has he retained?’77a
‘By the God, who has created man, the finest of “substances”’!77b swore the philosophic ambassadors, ‘Each of these jewels is of a “kind” of which no man can calculate the value. And among them is a jewel, unparalleled in the whole world, though according to perfect philosophers such a substance cannot exist.77c Before this time we had been advising the Rāī to send a part of the jewels, that had never been cut or divided,78a to the Imperial Court. “This jewel (treasure) is unique according to the opinion of all men,” and he would reply, “Let him who wishes to cut and divide (share) it, attempt the task. It is impossible for such a jewel (treasure) to be divided; he who talks of doing so is in a great error”. Thus was he accustomed to speak, but then the sword of the Imperial officers began its lecture; the Rāī understood that its stroke would divide up those singular “substances,” and has sent all his jewels to the Imperial muster. There is no stone left in the Rāī’s treasury that can be considered “precious”; nor is there any neighing creature in his stables that can be designated a “horse”. As for the elephant, it is a famous “body” and a large animal; if man is superior to it in dignity, he is also smaller in size. If there had been another “species” of the same “genus,” the Rāī, with the sense he possesses, would have sent it to the muster along with other “varieties” and “kinds”. The affair is as we have represented. For the rest, your exalted judgment is higher, and even wiser.’
(The Malik) saw from the propositions of their speech, that their logic was clear of all confusion. He applied to them such ‘terms’78b as had never been applied to them in ancient times, and that, too, in a way never to be forgotten. But if any of their premises had been wrong, the conclusion would have been drawn with the sword.
When the singular Sah-kash had fixed on the Hindū a tribute that surpassed all computation, the latter made a straight figure and put ten ciphers beside it,78c and below it he wrote promising to send untold wealth to the treasury of the Emperor (May God preserve him to the Day of Reckoning!). When the account of the jazia had been settled, the ‘Ariẓ-i Ḥāsib79a ordered the Amīrs and the Kātib-i Moḥāsib79b to take the roll of those who were present in, or absent from, the army. On the 16th Shawwāl, the Sah-kash, having achieved his object, turned his horse towards the meadows of the Capital, and guided it in such a way that its feet went on making half-ciphers79c on the ground. This figure indicated that in comparison to the spoils he was searching for, the untold treasures he had obtained were less than even half-a-cipher. And since a cipher means absolute non-entity, you can well see how much less than non-entity half-a-cipher is.79d The month of Ẓil Ḥijjah was spent in crossing the extensive forest. On 11th Muḥarram, A.H. 710 the Imperial officers reached Delhī, the deputy of the sacred Mecca. ‘And whoever enters it shall be secure.’ On Tuesday, the 24th Muḥarram, a black pavilion was erected on the Chautra-i Nāṣirī, like the Ka’ba on the navel of the earth. The kings and princes of Arabia and Persia took up their places around it. The Maliks, who had been sent on the expedition from the Capital, came before the Emperor, and after moistening the ground with the sweat of their brows, presented the spoils. Elephants of the size of Marwa, Safā, Tūr and Bū Qabīs,79e horses that raised a dust (cloud) out of the sea like western winds, and treasures under which a thousand camels would have groaned, were all displayed. The day looked like a second ‘Īd for the people, when the pilgrims, after wandering through many valleys, had at last reached the sacred precincts of the Imperial Court, and their wishes, compared to which the ambitions of Ḥajjāj Yūsuf79f were slavish longings, had been realized. The spectators went round and round the Court; everyone present was allowed, without any hindrance, to see the display and obtain the reward of his pilgrimage. But the reward, that could not have been obtained by the labour of a life-time, was that the Emperor’s eyes should suddenly fall on one with favour.
This is an account of the conquest of Ma‘bar; it is a river full of pearls.80a— The blade of the Khalīfa’s sword, which is the flame of the lamp of Islām, had now illuminated all the darkness of Hindustān with the light of its guidance. On one side, it had formed a wall of iron before the Magog-like Tātārs, so that those wretches were compelled to draw their feet into the skirt of the Ghaznī mountains, and even their advance-arrows were unable to cross the territory of Sindh. On the other side, so much dust had been raised from the temple of Somnāth that it dried up the bottom of the sea. On the right hand as well as on the left, the army had conquered all land from sea to sea; even the good news of the conquest of the two seas80b (Baḥrain) was brought; and the arrows of the state flew so far that even the territory of Kaish80c was in danger of being captured by the Imperial officers. There were many capitals of the Hindū deos (demons), where Satanism had prospered from the earliest times, and where, far from the pale of Islām, the Devil in the course of ages had hatched his eggs and had made his worship compulsory on the followers of the idols; but now with a sincere motive, the Emperor removed these symbols of infidelity, first from Deogīr and then from all other demon-lands, so that the light of the Sharī‘at may reach their neighbourhood to dispel the contamination of false beliefs from those places through the muaẓẓin’s call and the establishment of prayers. God be praised for all this!
But the sea of Ma‘bar is so far from Delhī that a man travelling with expedition can only reach it after a journey of twelve months. The arrows of preceding Sulṭāns had never reached that distant land, but the exalted ambition of the World-Conqueror induced him to test the marksmanship of his archers, and the Muslim faith was published in that far-off region. The general, Malik Nāīb Bārbek ‘Izzud-daulah (May God increase his dignity and grandeur!) was, for the honour of Islām, despatched on the expedition with the august canopy and the victorious troops. He was ordered through his victorious drums to bring to the ears of the idols—‘and they have ears with which they do not hear’—the warning, ‘that He may make it (Islām) overcome the religions, all of them.’81a And when the ‘water’ of the sword flows on the coast, the sea of infidelity will be drowned in the ‘Shar‘īat.’81b The obedient officer, after accepting the command, represented: ‘The enclosure of the Imperial Court has been dignified by the enormous elephants of Arangal. If the “Sulṭānus Salāṭīn” wishes to make the “balance of the state” heavier by mountain-like elephants, there are over five hundred of them on the coast of Ma’bar. As soon as the Imperial army marches in that direction, the Hindū troops will scatter like leaves of grass; and though these vermilion-coloured hills81c may be removed to another spot, it is quite possible for the Emperor’s men to overtake them. If the expedition is entrusted to me, I will pick up all these hillocks from the land of Ma’bar and bring them in the palm of my hand as “weights” for the carpet of the State. I have been reflecting on the design ever since my return from Arangal. But the exalted judgment of the great Khalīfa (May God increase the weight of his good deeds!) is superior to my opinions; for he sends me to break the bodies of the large idols rather than to capture the large bodies of the elephants. There can be no doubt that the scale of the Emperor’s good deeds will be so heavy after this virtuous act that the elephants will be mere make-weights in the balance. So taking the Emperor’s order as a “strong rope” to support my weak faith, I have determined to embark on the expedition. God helping, I will conquer the country on the sea-coast before I allow the army to open its baggage.’ With this faith he left the Court; and trusting in the Emperor’s fortune, he brought the good news of the conquest of treasures to the army.
The march of the army to Dhūr Samandar and Ma’bar, like a river hat flows towards another river.81d — On Tuesday, 26th Jamādīul Akhir, 710 A.H. a fortunate moment, at about mid-day the red canopy started for the expedition. To protect the men from the heat of the sun, the august canopy of the ‘Shadow of God’ collected so many clouds under itself that the sun’s rays were unable to pierce through them. First, it moved towards the bank of the Jamnā, like a cloud going to the sea, and halted at Tankal,81e which it made quite red with its ruby velvet. There the clerks of the ‘Dīwān-i ‘Ariẓ-i Mumālik began to run their pens along the extensive river-bank to take the muster of the army, while the Arīẓ-i wāla collected his men like drops of rain under the towering canopy. For full fourteen days, i.e., half-a-month, the crescent standard of the Malikus Sharq stopped at the place and a list of all the stars and planets was prepared. Then on the morning of the 9th Rajab, the drums began to beat for the march, and the exultation of the Muslim army raised the dust up to the eyes of the stars.
82a Owing to the multitude of horsemen, the earth looked like the pages of the Shāh Nāma. You would have thought that the sky had rained Bahmans, or that a swarm of Suhrābs and Bihzans was moving from one territory to another. A hundred thousand Rustams appeared on every side with their bows; some of them were so red-haired that you could not have painted them even with the blood of Sīāwash. There were Gurgīns who, with the impetuosity of Ardshir, could have pounded a tiger with a piece of bone, and lions like Barzīn, who could have made a headstall for Rakhsh with the skin of Godurz.82b
82cFor twenty-one days the men of the army made long marches, and took short routes, till they arrived at Katīhun. From there in seventeen more days they reached Ghurgāūn. In these seventeen days the Ghats were crossed. Great heights and depths were seen, in contemplating which human understanding was helpless—like an ant in a basin or a hen in the sea. On the summits of the mountains the horses appeared small like needle-points of rust on the blade of a sword; deep in the valleys the largest camels looked like revolving particles of dust. Kai Khusrau would have been lost with all his troops in the depths of the clefts and the vultures of Kai Kāūs82d would have perished in attempting to fly above the mountains. You could have found the egg of a Sīmurgẖ82e on every mountain-top in that wilderness. Through Divine assistance, the army passed safely even over such a road, trampling the heights and depths under its feet. For when a man, for the sake of his faith, carries his head on the palm of his hands before the enemy’s sword, the blade of steel is frightened and hides itself under the ground. 83a Three great rivers were crossed, and the army learnt good lessons in crossing them. Two of the rivers equalled one another, but neither equalled the Narbada. A hundred thanks to God, that the army was able to cross the rivers, even as a bird flies through the rain or the sky traverses the ocean. After the rivers, mountains and valleys had been crossed, a present of twenty-three elephants, huge as Elburz, arrived from the Rāī of Tilang. They could act as a pāshīb for opening the way to a besieged fort, or send a hill flying into the air, or drag down a cloud from the hill-tops with their trunks. Like standards83b fixed on mounds, they were sent as presents to the Sulṭān, if he would accept them. 83c The victorious army took twenty days before it could move these huge hills in that ‘field of resurrection’—‘you see the mountains, you think them to be solid, and they shall pass away like the passing away of the cloud.’ A roll was taken of those present in, and absent from, the army; and when the muster was finished, in accordance with the Emperor’s orders, the standards were carried forward, so that by their growth and multiplication they might bring about the ‘day of resurrection’ in Ma’bar. The inhabitants of that region were given the call of ‘the day on which the trumpet shall be blown, so you shall come forth in hosts’—of ‘the day on which a man shall fly from his brother, and his mother and his father, and his spouse and his sons.’ The order—‘lay hold on him, then put a chain on him’—was executed on rebellious necks, and the attack at which mountains pass away was delivered on the elephants of that country. The defeated Hindūs were despatched with the sword to their brothers in the flames, so that fire, the undeserving object of their worship, may be their proper punishment ‘when hell is kindled up.’
83d When on the seventh day, which was Friday, the sky bathed its blue wings in the rays of the sun and cast the carpet of light over its shoulders, and the world was clothed in its white radiance like a Mussalmān putting on a clean dress on Friday, the army began to move with the swiftness of a hurricane from Ghurgāūn. Wherever the accursed tree that produced no religion was found, it was torn up by the roots; the conquered people looked like uprooted trees falling in the strong current of the Jaihūn, or like straws tossed up and down and carried forward in a whirlwind. On reaching the Tāvī,84a they saw a river only slightly smaller than the sea. The army crossed it quicker than the hurricane it resembled, and afterwards employed itself in cutting down the jungles and destroying the gardens. Owing to the excessive dust raised by the army, the other rivers in the land were filled with mud like the intestines of earth-eating animals.
84b Owing to the tramping of the horses, the hills became consumptive and wished to bury themselves in the womb of the earth, while the dry-tempered desert became tuberculous and was covered with cracks. On Thursday, the 13th of Ramaẓān, the royal canopy cast its shadow on the capital of Deogīr, which, at the command of Heaven, had been protected by the angels; and here the army determined to collect shooting-stars84c and four-feathered arrows for overthrowing Bilal Deo and other deos (demons). The Rāī Rāyān, Rām Deo, had heard safety to Satan proclaimed by the dreadful Mussalmān cymbals, and submitting to the Imperial Court, considered himself safe under the protection promised to him. 84d With a true intuition, this Rāī of noble origin became the embodiment of correct judgment in rendering honour and obedience to the orders of the Imperial Court, in providing material of war for the army, and in advising the conquest of Bīr and Dhūr Samandar. In order to please the servants of the Emperor, this model of his generation, i.e., the Rāī Rāyān, wrote a letter of homage with the pen of sincerity and adorned the city of Deogīr with the gems of paradise. He ordered all things needed by the army to be placed in the market; if the (Muslim) Rustams required the feathers of Sīmurgẖ for their arrows, all possible efforts were made to obtain them, so that every horseman of the army of Irān and Tūrān84e might slay a huge demon of Dhūr Samandar even as Rustam had killed the deos of Mazindrān.84f At the order of the noble Rāī, who was a tree planted by the Imperial Court, the markets of the city were decorated like the garden of Aram, and the men of the army rode up to them on their horses. They saw a city more beautiful than the Paradise of Shaddād; every market was like a garden differently planned; the money-changers sat with bags of small and large coins, and red and white tankas lay before them like roses and many-petalled flowers; the cloth-merchants had every variety of cloth from bahār-i Hind to the bāward-i Khorāsān, the like of which you cannot find among the flowers of the gardens, piled up in their shops like tulips over the mountain-top or basils in the orchard. Fruits better than pomegranates and rarer than nagẖz lay in heaps.
85a The material provided for the army—hard and soft goods of wool and leather, brass and iron—was beyond all computation. Everyone gave good money and bought things at a just price. The Turk did not oppress the Hindū and the will of the Hindū was not opposed to the will of the Turk. As these sun-worshippers had become worshippers of the Imperial sword, they considered the purchasers a great good fortune for themselves and brought to the army all that their community could provide. The Rāī Rāyān had already informed a Hindū, named Dalvī, who lay on the frontiers of Bīr and Dhūr Samandar,85b that the Imperial army would be at his place in a few days; so, with his mouth open like a bucket, Dalvī sat waiting for the army and even wished to draw the whole of Dhūr Samandar into a single bucket for the sake of the Mussalmāns. 85c The army, which had already heard the message, ‘Surely we have given to you a clear victory’, stopped for three days at the aforesaid fort to put its battalions (hazāras) into order. When the advance guard had started,85d they packed up their baggage for the holy war and the armies of heaven and earth were with them. On Tuesday, the 17th Ramaẓān, the Imperial archers and swordsmen began to move rapidly and were accompanied by the august canopy.85e From the Aimanābād of Deogīr to the Kharabābād85f of Paras Deo Dalvi, the army made five marches and crossed three large rivers. One of them, Sini,86a had such a wide breast that the broad sea looked like a heart pulsating in its left side; its breadth exceeded thirty long reeds (nai). Of the other, Godāvarī, you might say that, in its extensive playing ground, it had carried the ball successfully against all other rivals.86b The third was Bihnūr with a breast as wide as the Sīnī’s.86c The army also crossed several other rivers, some roaring, others softly melodious. After five days, it reached the stage of Bandrī in the territory of Paras Deo Dalvī.86d Now Dalvī, a bucket drawn out by the Imperial officers, hoped to get water out of Bīr Dhūr and Bīr Pandya86e and desired that with the strong arm of the victorious army, the two Bīrs (wells) together with the seas that encircle them, may be drawn into (his) single cup.86f 86gHe had dried up in the general scarcity of water, but now seeing his star in the ascendant and his constellation stable, he came forward to receive the Muslim army and undertook to guide it. When the day of Jupiter had been illuminated with the heart of the moon, the Malikus Sharq sent forward swift-footed scouts in quick succession to find out the condition of the country and made diligent inquiries on all sides. Finally, it was discovered that the two Rāīs of Ma’bar had formerly but a single will (rāī) and were as united as the two furqadain.86h But the younger brother, Sundar Pandya, had from political ambition coloured his hands in the blood of his father according to the law, ‘seize what you find’. Thereupon, the elder brother, Rāī Bīr Pandya, collecting many thousand Saturnine Hindūs and leaving his two cities empty, had hastened to flay his younger brother alive. Meanwhile Bilāl Deo, the Rāī of Dhūr Samandar, hearing that the cities were without their Mahā-rāīs, had marched forward to plunder the merchants of the two cities at one swoop. At this moment, however, he heard a sky-rending thunder of the Muslim drums behind his back.—‘And most surely our host alone shall be the victorious one’. Finding himself in this critical situation—‘They put their fingers into their ears because of the thunder-peal, from fear of death’—Bilāl Deo, like an upturned and unlucky Saturn, marched down to his own low constellation.
87a The Malik gathered all this information with the greatest care. Then on Sunday, the 23rd Ramaẓān, after consultation with the great maliks on whom rested the responsibility of the campaign, he selected a tuman (i.e., 10,000 men) from the officers and men of the army and started in haste. There were archers with him who could split a grain of poppy into a thousand fragments for the pleasure of the spectator, and swordsmen who could cut a hill into two like a nut.87b For twelve successive days men, horses and cattle87c went up hill and down dale; the depths were such that the sky fell into fits on seeing them, and the attempt to gaze at the heights took away the onlooker’s breath. The carpet of thorns growing out of the rocks would have pierced into a rhinoceros, yet in their haste the men marched over it as over a cushion of silk. In the darkness of the night, they waded through wide rivers, which looked like waving silk, and through rushing torrents, which could have overturned a mountain; and they passed, like a ship sailing through a storm, across streams into which Noah’s deluge had subsided without rising up again, sometimes carried on the crest of a wave, at other times enclosed in a hollow. Through Divine assistance, most of the soldiers crossed the land, though at the bottom of the valleys you could drink water from the centre of the earth and at the summit you could wash your hands with the clouds; many difficulties were met with, but they were all surmounted. 87d On Thursday, the 5th Shawwāl, in that equatorial region where the disk of the sun heats the earth like a furnace, the fort-reducing Imperial army enclosed Dhūr Samandar88a as in an oven. They saw a fort so magnificent, that after viewing it one began to despise the sky. It was not (so to say) Dhūr Samandar, but a sea, called Bīr (well), which was surrounded by a larger sea. You would have thought the fort was a building encircling the sun, which had been ruined by repeated rounds of the full goblet. You saw a fort surrounded by water and its name was Bīr; there is water in other wells (bīr), but here there was a well within water.
88b The inhabitants of the fort had an old, traditional faith. Their hands and feet began to tremble from fear of the (Imperial) army, and the thought of the enemy’s arrows filled their bodies with ‘thorns’88c like the ‘bones’ of a fish. All these terror-stricken fish fell into lines, and getting into their armours, tied their shields to their backs and began moving up and down. Had you seen their restlessness in the fort, you would have said it was like the revolutions of fish in water. Rāī Bilāl Deo became as pale as a drowning man and his heart began to palpitate like the dew-lap of a frog. Within the Bīr (well) many meetings were held as to the reply to be given to the Imperial army. 88d If the fire-worshipping Rāī wished to refrain from displaying his wind and smoke, the handful of straws around him blew their breaths and tried to incite him. ‘Ages will be required,’ said they, ‘before the pillar of fire-worshipping tribes can be raised in Dhūr Samandar again. There is no doubt that our origin is from fire and from Dhūr Samandar (salamandar). Since the Turkish army, like a river of fire, has reached the thatch-houses of our villages, it will also have strength enough to reduce the stones of our fort into lime. None the less, our fort is called Dhūr Samandar (sea); water is, and always has been, within reach. If the “tongues” of the Turkish swords begin their work and we find it impossible to extinguish them—well, we have to be cremated, sooner or later, and it is better not to die without water (honour).’ The Rāī flared up at this advice and displayed his inner fire. ‘Before this time,’ he said, ‘my fire-worshipping ancestors, the lamp of whose soul burned bright, have declared that the Hindū cannot stand against the Turk, nor fire against water. This being the case, we have no alternative but to turn away our faces from the fiery arrows of the Turks. Nor must water be thrown at them; for water may turn into oil and make us feel its flame in our life-time. Therefore, I lay all idea of opposition aside. I will go kneeling before them, like water over the earth. May be the fire of the Turks will be somewhat appeased!’ This considerably cooled the advocates of further struggle; they gave up all thought of resistance and consented to open the doors of Bīr (well), so that the torches of warfare may be extinguished.89a
89bWhen, in the morning, the sāqī had brought her red wine-glass out of the transparent goblet of the sky, the commander of the army went round the fort, before which (the troops) of Ma’bar had been twice defeated. He thought that the flasks by the side of the ditch89c were like a wine-table laid out. The ferocious lions and tigers (of the army) were organized, party by party, while he posted himself along with other Maliks before the gate of the fort. Noise and tumult arose from the blood-drinking lines and the thunder of the drums resounded on all sides. The mystic-minded sword of the Mussalmāns shed so much rebel blood that the deluge rushed to the ditch and meted out to it the punishment its sins deserved. The heat of the flaming arrows turned the blood of the Hindūs into water and brought it out as perspiration. The Council of the Maliks wished to batter down the fort, which stood like a demon’s hat, with their magẖrabi-stones, or else to order the lancers of the army to upturn it like an empty glass with the point of their lances; so that, surrounded by blood, the rebels may fly out of the boiling well (bīr) even as a fly flies out of a flagon. But they refrained from manifesting their power for a time in order that the negotiations may proceed. The choice of becoming Mussalmāns or ẓimmīs (tribute-payers) was placed before the besieged; if they accepted either, well and good; if not, in obedience to Divine commands, the fort was to be broken into potsherds with magẖrabi-stones, and the blood of its inmates spilled like wine poured out of a goblet.
90a Bilāl Deo now found that the call to prayer would resound in his temple and the voice of the muazzin rise high where he, a demon, had assumed the name of Bilāl,90b while the religion of Islam was extended by propaganda and the sword. When the night of Friday, after throwing the dark mantle of evening over its shoulders, had emerged out of its stony pulpit, this Bilāl, whose essence it was to be a demon, despatched Gaisū Mal after the night prayer to find out the strength and circumstances of the Muslim army. When Gaisū Mal reached the Muslim camp, he was stupefied, just as Satan is stupefied when he hears the Qurān read. Rows of horsemen surrounded the fort and kept a strict watch; next morning they would commence the struggle and enter the houses of the demons in full force to establish the Khuṭba and prayer where the idols had been worshipped. 90c When, through the locks of the night, Gaisū Mal90d saw the enormous army spread out like the hair on a man’s head, the hair on his body stood up like the teeth of a comb in fear. He turned back like a curly lock, and rising and falling, hastened to the fort. When he reached the woolly Rāī and told him what he had seen, the Rāī came near to losing his reason and began to dishevel his hair in mourning at his own loss.
90e Next, the Rāī taught all the charms and magic he knew to Bālak Deo Nāyak, who was equal in Satanism to a hundred-thousand (lakh) demons,90f and sent him to the camp of the Imperial army. This household shadow came to offer submission before the royal canopy, and bringing to his lips the message he carried in his heart, petitioned for Bilāl Deo’s life and livelihood: ‘This servant, Bilāl Deo, submits to the Emperor like Laddar Deo and Ram Deo, and whatever the Solomon of the time commands, I am ready to obey. If you desire horses like demons, elephants like giants and other valuables, they are present. If all this noise and tumult is for the destruction of the four walls of this fort, they are, as they stand, no obstacle to your advance. The fort is the fort of the Sulṭān; take it. The servant, Bilāl Deo, has thrown a few stones from the top of his fort; but God forbid that the stones of a demon should do any harm to men! And what can be better for me than to keep my stones to myself, and remain out of harm’s way like the Hindūs of Deogīr? A Hindū on being cremated turns into a demon; but as yet the flame of the Hindī sword of the Turks has not reached me, and it would be unwise for me to become a demon before my time. Behold! The spirits of so many Hindū demons are revolving in the dust round the Imperial camp. They have thrown their lives to the wind by disobeying the demon governing Solomon, and, consequently, they are grovelling in the dust after death. The servant, Bilāl Deo, is a descendant of great Deos; but before the Asaf-like wazīr, who is the deputy of Solomon’s court, he casts aside his Satanism and places his living body under the protection of the lines of angels that stretch towards his right and left, and, like an evil spirit in the month of Ramaẓān, places his neck in the chain of captivity.’
91a The exalted minister heard the submissive message of the Rāī. His penetrating judgment discovered the reason of Bilāl Deo’s humility, but in obedience to the commands of the Muslim Caliph, he replied: ‘The order of the Caliph concerning Bilāl Deo and all other Rāīs is this: First I am to place before them the two negatives of the oath of affirmation.91b May be, their hearts will be illuminated! But if Destiny has drawn a curtain before their eyes and they fail to see the light, I am to offer them the alternative of having the yoke of tribute (zimma) put on their necks. If they reject this also and refuse to pay tribute, then I will not place any burden on their necks but will simply relieve their necks of the burden of their heads. Now (tell me) which of these three conditions pleases Rāī Bilāl Deo most, so that I may consult the heads of the army and give you a reply suited to your judgment as well as mine? Weigh your reply carefully, even as I weigh you.’ 92a The Rāī’s messengers nearly collapsed at the fearful ultimatum. ‘We are Hindū arrows’, they said with their broken spirits, ‘and Hindūs are not good marksmen. May be your message, which is straight as an arrow, will become somewhat crooked (if we convey it). Some straightforward men should be sent along with us; for a messenger despatched by your stout arm is sure to pierce into the Rāī’s heart so effectively as to realize all your wishes.’
The Malik welcomed the idea. He ordered some Hindū Parmār ḥājibs—who, like Turkish arrows, were strong snakes with wings of demons—to go along with the two or three ambassadors of the Rāī. Thanks to the powerful arm that had despatched them, the (Imperial) messengers flew to the fort in the twinkling of an eye and began to attack the Rāī with their tongues. The Rāī jumped up from his place like a mad man on hearing their Venus-rending voices. He wished to talk boldly, but found himself tongue-tied, and it took some time before he was able to speak. When his fear had somewhat abated, and his spirit, which had flown away, returned to its abode, he stood up like an arrow with folded hands. ‘All property, animate and inanimate,’ he said, ‘which Fate has placed in the hands of this servant, Bilāl, is at the service of the Imperial court. Bilāl is also one of the tribute-payers. Next morning, before the shooting-stars and their lantern, the moon, have withdrawn, I will present all I have to the Muslim army. For myself I will keep nothing except my Hindū faith and the sacred thread (zunnār), which I wear round my body. If a uniform yearly tribute is fixed on me, I will gird up my loins like an arrow and meet the wishes of the Imperial officers. By the God who has given such strength to the arrows of the holy warriors, that they pierce the stony hearts of the gabrs, I will not repudiate this agreement.’ 92b When the Imperial messengers had consoled the Rāī, who looked like a broken bow, and were sure that his weaknesses could not be repaired, they retraced their steps and came to the exalted Malik. The Rāī’s presents, which were suitable for the bow-string, were given over to the archers of the army; and the Malik, having assured himself that the Rāī was sincere in the promise he had made, removed the knot of anger from his brow and placed his bow comfortably on its rack.
On the morning of Friday, the 6th Shawwāl, when the sky had clothed its feet in light, the messengers of the Rāī, men bad in shooting arrows, but truthful in speech, such as Bālak Deo Naik, Māīn Deo, Jīt Mal and some others, came out of the fort with folded hands. They brought their presents and bowed before the Imperial canopy, like a bow when an arrow is shot from it; next, like an arrow springing from the bow-string, they began their alluring speech. ‘The Rāī’, they said, ‘whose truthfulness is straighter than a bow-string, assures you that in the attempt to save himself, he has become more bent than a Hindī bow. Finding that the Turks shoot their arrows on whichever side they see a large corner, he enrols himself among the Imperial tributaries before they put a rope round his neck and bring him within their power. He will submit to such Imperial orders as are issued, and will not defend his fort with bows and arrows.’
93a No one can describe the elephants so well as I (Khusrau), for only a cloud can cast its shadow over a mountain. Everyone of them was valiant in slaying the brave, gigantic in stature, yet like man in intelligence. The iron goad above its head looked like the inverted crescent over a cloud… Hard-headed but obedient, it bore on its back the prestige of the court. From a wide throat it emitted a soft sound. Its hands were without fingers and its feet beat like drums on either side. Its shanks were upright and strong like the trunks of trees and bore the enormous weight of its body. It could tear open the sides of a wolf as wide as laughing lips, or send infidels to sleep in red velvet under the weight of its feet. At one throw it could send a thief flying to the other world. The male elephant could win their ‘heads’ from the Hindūs with Chaugān-stick of its trunk; the female could colour the nails of her hands and feet with Mughal blood as if it was ḥinā93b and at the same time carve out their eyes with her nails. The soles of its feet shook the unmoving earth, and at the same time dragged the chain behind. The Sah-kash considered the acquisition of the elephants a very good omen—that is, he thought them magnets for drawing the iron hills of Ma‘bar towards themselves. Officers were appointed to look after them and expenses were allotted for their food and upkeep.
94a On the day of Mars, when the wine-coloured dawn had disappeared and the heat of the sun was falling vertically on the earth, the Rāī sent all his dust-raising horses to the Imperial stables. They came before the august canopy, rows after rows, like the winds that strike against the clouds; and the canopy, which has the hills for its pegs—if you saw it, you would think it to be the throne of Solomon floating in air— threw its shade over them. The horses seemed to leap into the field of vision out of the realm of imagination. The marine horses could swim through the sea as if it was a cup of water. Their eyes were like crows, with black linings, and they looked at Shabdīz94b with contempt. There were dark horses with white faces, like the moon rising up in the horizon of the night; white horses with black hoofs, like an eclipse overshadowing the sun; horses with black patches which reminded one of clouds scattered by the winds; and bay horses with red marks like the air full of roses. Their essence was from the wind, and rain could do them no harm; their bodies were of fire and you could not make their effigies out of wax. They wore shoes of iron and could, nevertheless, dance in the air. Their limbs were like reeds, and they could not, therefore, be drowned in water. Their breasts were wide like the foreheads of the munificent, while their ear-holes were small like the eyes of the stingy.94c Like true mystics, they could step on air and walk over the surface of water. Barley was permitted to them, but not whips.
94d When the day of the sun94e had dawned on the eastern horizon, the sun-worshipping Bilāl Deo saw the rays of the Muslim sword over his head. He bowed down, ran out of his constellation (fort), and throwing himself before the canopy of the ‘Shadow of God’ like a trembling and lifeless phantom, buried his head in the soil of submission. Having thus acquired the light of good fortune, he retired to his own constellation at a sign from the Hajib-i Mālikul Hujjab in order to bring out his gems, valuables and buried treasures. All that night he was engaged in digging up the treasures which he had hidden like the sun in the bosom of the night. When (next morning) the Hindū-faced night threw the sun out of the earth, the Rāī brought all the sparkling gems, which he had hitherto kept underground, in his skirt before the august canopy and entrusted them to the officers of the Public Treasury. In this city, the four towns of which are four months’ journey (from Delhī), the troops remained for twelve days till the main force joined them. Then the elephants of Dhūr Samandar were sent to the Imperial capital like eastern winds that go to the Ka’ba.
The march of the army to Ma’bar, accompanied by fortune and guided by success.—95a On Wednesday, the 18th Shawwāl, the high-sounding army drums were mounted on camel-backs for the expedition to Ma’bar and led up and down across valleys and rivers. The ground was extremely uneven; but the men jumped like lions across hollows which made the camels weep, and cantered like camels over snake-holes and rat-holes where a bakhtī95b would have sunk down to the neck. The sharp thorns drove their points into the feet of the camels as if they were horses to be shod; the pointed stones tore the horses’ hoofs with the deceptivity of a camel; the litters were torn by the rapidity of the march and then sewn up again by the thorns. Yet the obedient army patiently bore all the labours of the campaign. If a heavy mountain had been laid on its back every day, it would have carried the mountain without hesitation or protest. Every night they slept on ground more uneven than a camel’s back.
95c Five days after the above date, the army reached the frontier of Ma’bar. Between the territories of Dhūr Samandar and Ma’bar, a mountain was seen that rubbed its head against the clouds; on the hills in front of it, there grew thorny trees, which, spear in hand, protected the garrisons that had taken refuge among them. Two passes leading from two valleys had been opened for the fort-reducing army; one pass was Tarmalī95d and the other was Tabar. But in a moment the mountain-rending army created a hundred passes on every side with the shots of its arrows; and they passed through the hill as rapidly as their arrows had passed through the rocks. At night they reached a river and encamped by its bank in the wilderness.96a The dust of the desert flew with the wind of Islām, and attacked the Ma’barī troops, who were more numerous than sand-grains; their ranks were broken like ‘scattered motes,’96b or like particles of dust carried about by the wind.
Account of the conquest of Ma’bar and the capture of elephants, horses and jewels.96c The kindness of the Creator has bestowed sharpness on the curved swords of the Muslim army, and they were now resharpened by Him. When the army reached this land of infidelity, it created its own arch with the strength of its arm and compelled infidel heads to stand up and fall down before it.96d The contamination of infidelity, which the sea could not have washed off from this land, was washed away by the ‘drops’ of the sword. The rebels of that territory had never seen Muslim horsemen even in their dreams. The cowardly96e Hindūs had designated their city Mardī (manliness); but manliness existed there not in reality, but only in name. The men of the city saw disconcerting dreams and remained lost in the Devil’s game. Finally, the Maliks reached the fort and carried their banners through the city with beating drums. There was bloodshed beyond all reckoning. The Imperial army bathed in its own perspiration and washed the land with rebel blood.
96f On Thursday, the 5th Zil Qa’d, the Muslim troops, numerous as sand-grains, started from the river Kanaurī towards Bīrdhūl. They were thirsty for Ma’bar and for the ocean; and in case the Bīr fled towards the sea, they had determined to pursue him thither like thirsty men in quest of water. When the enthusiastic army approached Bīrdhūl, the beats of their drums resounded in the Bīr (well); and though Bīr on his part also raised a hue and cry, yet it was a weak voice coming out of a well. The Hindū community kept their Bīr (well) covered, so that no one could look into him. ‘An event is going to happen’, they told Bīr, ‘your head will be taken off and you will be left with your mouth open’. Bīr wished to sink into the earth like a well, but on further reflection, he felt afraid that they (the Mussalmāns) might throw a rope down his throat and take out all his water. He was in this perplexity when the army approached nearer and his fort began to shake. Bīr lost all self-control and desired to fly towards the sea; but first through sad and melancholy sighs he sent it a message. ‘I have sailed over thee so often. But now I, who am Bīr (well), suffer from a great scarcity of water owing to the enormous Turkish army. Give me a refuge in thine islands.’ When these melancholy sighs reached the sea, it instantly put on its armour and swelled up and roared its reply: ‘O Bīr, do not come this side, for in this fall of kingdoms, I will be only overthrowing myself along with you. I am not a dry pond, in which you can dig a well (bīr).97a My title is “the sea” and God has given me the privilege of surrounding the seven climes. May be, a wave from the army of the king of land and sea—“and He it is who has made the sea subservient that you may eat fresh flesh from it”—will come fishing this side, and I shall be able to pay my respects to it: I am not devoid of shame and honour, and it is for such a contingency that I have preserved the valuables in my treasury. Very often people have sailed over me upon a handful of wood and straw; but now I will change my water into dust at the feet of the Imperial troops. You may consider me one of the meanest of Imperial servants. If I have a treasure of pearls, it is a present for the Maliks. If there are islands of earth in me, they are to be used for the letters of the Imperial Dīwān.97b As for the ships which sail on the surface of the water, they cannot be concealed. The finest ships, arrayed like young damsels, are waiting for the Emperor’s orders; he can choose whichever he likes. Henceforth the solution of all difficulties concerning this region is in the hands of the King of kings. The property of the servant is the property of his master.’
When this reply came to Bīr’s ears, he also roared out from his empty heart, and in his excessive thirst and dryness, he felt like drinking up the whole ocean. For he was like an empty well, whose eyes have sunk to the bottom and whose interior is entirely devoid of moisture. The officers of Bīr also lost their self-confidence; and as these aquatic animals were beset with a great scarcity of water, they inevitably resolved to make Bīr (well) fly by way of land.
98a When the great Brahmans saw that the Rāī Rāyān was weaker than a leaf, they represented to him in coloured language that betels should be offered to the rāwats to induce them to sacrifice their lives. On a hint from the Rāī, betels were presented to Hindū horsemen and pāīks to induce them to shoot forth new leaves. They took the betels and their mouths were filled with blood in mourning at their own death. You would have said that the pale-faced and green-coloured Hindūs were like the betel-leaf, which is green above and yellow beneath.98b For no blood was left in their arteries, and Death had opened its jaws to colour its teeth with their blood. They were not eating betel but drinking blood; for every time they put it in their mouths, the leaf changed its colour under their black teeth, wept tears of blood and caused their lips to open in laughter. Along with them, the Bīr also ate betel and drank blood.98c When the holy warriors reached the precincts of the city, their sword cast its rays on Bīrdhūl and made it clear to Bīr that the time of his decline was near. No water remained in him. From this time till sunset, the yellow-faced Rāī, along with other pale faces, kept falling into fits (safra); and their disease affected the sun, for it also grew pale and sank down in a fit. The Rāī saw that the day of his prosperity had changed into night and the world grew dark before his eyes. Along with his perplexed companions— ‘you may think them as one body and their hearts are disunited’— he retired towards the city, from where he took a quantity of cash and valuables, which brought some consolation to his palpitating heart, and also a number of men and horses. Thus equipped for the flight, he moved towards the city of Kandūr. But as the danger from the Imperial army was extremely great, he was unable to establish himself firmly even there and fled to the forest of elephants and tigers.
99a A body of Mussalmāns had allied themselves to the broken crupper of the Hindūs and had violated the law: ‘Do not make the infidels your friends as against the Mussalmāns’.99b But now they saw the Rāī break his own stirrup and the Day of Reckoning covered them like a saddle-cloth. The world appeared to them contracted like the bow of a saddle; the wave of blood rose above the saddle and they had no place to dry their feet. So they turned away their bridles from their infidel allies, sought safety in submission to the Mussalmāns, and tried to strengthen themselves by hanging to the saddle-straps of the State. ‘Then surely the party of Allāh are they that shall be triumphant.’ Though every one of them was the very worst of rebels and apostates, yet they were honoured by the Malik and liberated from their chains.99c Their oath of affirmation testified to their claim of being Mussalmāns, and out of regard for this, the Muslim Malik ordered the V-shaped yoke to be removed from their necks. The forgiveness of the forgiving Emperor was extended to them; they were asked concerning the circumstances of the infidels and brought (to light) all they knew about those fire-worshippers. Led by these Mussalmāns, the Imperial troops resolved to chase the cowardly Bīr and all other cowards.
99d But at this moment a black-faced cloud advanced from the direction of the Ma’bari troops, and owing to its friendliness with the sea, strove hard for the Ma’baries. To the Mussalmāns also it gave some formal help. In fact it was very deceptive; sometimes it rained severely, at other times gently; on the one hand, it gave water to the stream of Shari’at, and on the other, it assisted those aquatic animals. At this double dealing the lightning laughed. But as Fate had ordained that the shower of Muslim arrows was not to reach the gabrs, the rain became more severe as the Mussalmāns strove to advance. You would have thought Destiny had drawn a curtain before the victorious army in order to protect the flying troops. For when the Imperialists advance like a deluge, Fate alone can save the drowning . So the army returned to Bīrdhūl. They found that Bīr (well) had fled and the drum (dhul) was empty. The infidel cloud, like a Hindū in sable clothes, drew its Hindī rainbow to the full length and sent down its rain-drops like sharp arrow-points. They passed through the armour and the breast-plate; and though the bronze bodies of the holy warriors remained unaffected, they were, nevertheless, hindered from discharging their arrows. The water rendered the bows ineffective and made the Hindī swords rusty;100a it got in between the arrow and its (iron) point and separated them from one another; it also whispered something in the ‘ears’ of the bows and untwisted their strings.100b But the clever and masterful (Imperial) archers were not afraid of the cloud of Bahman or of the rain-drops; their arrows flew like lightning, for they were of the nature of the wind. Some aquatic animals of that land crept like snakes into every hole and crevice, while the bodies of others were pierced by the sharp arrows even as water gets into a snake-hole. The Hindū rāwats came forth riding in troops but were laid low before the Turkish horse. A deluge of water and blood flowed forward to plead for mercy before the Caliph’s army. Or you might say, that owing to the extreme happiness of infidel souls, the beverage of blood was so delicious, that every time the cloud rained water over it, the ferocious earth drank it up with the greatest pleasure. In spite of the great intoxicating power of this wine the sāqī poured her clear liquid out of the flagon of the sky to increase its intoxication further. Out of this wine and beverage Death had distilled her first delicious draught. Next you saw bones on the earth.
From Bīrdhūl the army advanced in search of Bīr across a path so completely covered by water that you could not distinguish the road from a well. Torrents of rain fell from above. But the horsemen guided their horses as pilots guide their ships, and sailing through the storm like Noah’s ark, they reached a village where the Hindū army lay encamped like bubbles on the surface of water. But as soon as a breeze from the majestic sword of the Turks blew towards them, they broke and dispersed and seemed to sink into the ground, even as a rain drop disappears in sandy soil.100c At midnight, when the moon and the stars had been hidden by the clouds and the morning was still far off, some swift-footed scouts reported that the Rāī, having lost all consciousness of head and foot, had fled to the city of Kandūr. The victorious army hurried after him and soon reached the place. The Hindūs, who relying on the strength of their ‘head’, had lost their ‘feet’ before this time, now lost their ‘head’ also. They ran about ‘headless’, searching for their lost ‘head’; and in this search they also lost the heads they had. The ‘head-throwing’ Turks found no traces of the lost man anywhere, though they cut off a number of heads under the suspicion that they were his, and again and again drew circles round the places where they expected him to be. Finally, the Hindū-faced night withdrew and the morning dawned.101a When the elephantine cloud had disappeared, one hundred and twenty101b cloud-like elephants were captured at the place and on the backs of the elephants were treasures, such as do not drop from the backs of the clouds and are not to be found in the bowels of the hills. The spoils were entrusted to the officers of the Treasury. Many elephant-bodied rāwats, who like the tusks of elephants had never withdrawn from the battle-field, now crept into their houses like the elephant’s eye from fear of the terrific Turkish storm; but they were, nevertheless, dragged out of their corners and thrown under the feet of the elephants. It seemed that, smeared with the blood of those ‘possessors of the elephants’, the elephants of that land became like ‘birds in flocks’ and carried to the elephantine clouds the words of thankfulness to the Lord of Ka’ba.101c
101d Though a deluge of blood was made to flow in the Kharābābād of Kandūr with the Hindī sword, that could have cut a boat into two, yet no trace of the desired fish was found. The Mussalmāns thought he had gone towards Jāt Kūta. ‘We will go and throw out our fishing line there’, they determined, ‘May be he will fall into our hands!’ So without waiting to rest or recuperate, they started quicker than the rain that falls from above. But it was discovered for certain from people coming from that direction that Bīr had not been anywhere near that bīrāna. He had washed his hands off the sea as well, for the sea, in spite of its stability, had fled from that flowing river and dived to the bottom of the earth. 102a The forest to which Bīr had fled was so thick, that there was no place in it for an ant to put its feet; and if imagination had entered it, it would have lost its way and never found it out again. As it was ascertained that the Rāī had penetrated into the forest even as a needle pierces through silk, that his companions had gone with him like the thread following the needle, and that the end of the thread was not now to be found, the Malik, who, if he heard of so much as the picture of an elephant on silk cloth, would have run his sharp scissors towards it in the darkest night, did not consider it worth while wasting his arrows against the hillside for such a matter of detail as capturing the small party of the Rāī. It was impossible to find them. The Mussalmāns drew away their skirts from the thorny forest and returned to Kandūr, so that with their staffs they may explore the hills of that region in search of more elephants.
102b When in the morning the elephantine clouds had gathered round that golden idol, the sun, news was brought that in the city of Barmatpur there was a golden temple, and that the Rāī’s elephants had collected round it even as clouds collect round the sun. The army started like a storm to move those clouds and arrived there at midnight. Two hundred and fifty elephants, who roared like thunder, were captured before dawn by the fleet-footed horsemen, just as the waves of the sea are raised in a continuous succession by the wind.102c Next, the Muslim Sah-kash came with a body of holy warriors to destroy the golden temple in which the idols were kept. They saw a building, old and strong as the infidelity of Satan, and enchanting like the allurements of worldly life. You might say that it was the Paradise of Shaddād, which after being lost, those hellites had found, or that it was the golden Lankā of Rām, that Rāī having collected the golden heads of the idols and left them till the time of Solomon came, or else, that they had been left for Bīr, but Bīr (well) having become dry, these idols fell down.103a In truth, the towering edifice testified to the fact that the earth is the infidel’s paradise. It rose from the earth, a structure of gold scratching the eyes of the stars and piercing the people of the sun. Its summit reached the claws of the Lion; its golden foundations went deep into the earth; you would have thought the Twelve Fish had been consolidated into one. Its roofs and walls were inlaid with sparkling rubies and emeralds, and after gazing at them, red and yellow spots came before the spectator’s eye.103b The sight of gold was cooling to the sight. The green colour of the emerald would have given prestige to a kingly crown; for it looked like a young parrot flown from its egg in the moon. The jewelled figure of the idol looked like a bubble on the surface of the sun, and gazing at it would have weakened the eye. God be praised that all these gems have been brought to the Treasury of the ‘Shadow of God’!
103c The foundations of this golden temple, which was the holy place of the Hindūs, were dug up with the greatest care. The ‘Glorifiers of God’ broke the infidel building, so that ‘spiritual birds’ came down like pigeons from the air. The ‘ears’ of the wall were opened by the sound of the spade. At its call the sword also raised its ‘head’ from the scabbard; and the ‘heads’ of the Brahmans and idol-worshippers came dancing from their necks to their feet at the flashes of the sword. 103d The golden bricks rolled down and brought with them the plaster of sandal-wood; the yellow gold became red with blood, and the white sandal turned scarlet. The sword flashed where jewels had once been sparkling; where mire used to be created by rose-water and musk, there was now a mud of blood and dirt; the stench of blood was emitted by ground once fragrant with musk; the saffron-coloured doors and walls assumed the colour of bronze. And by this smell the men of Faith were intoxicated and the men of Infidelity ruined. 103e The stone idols, called ‘Ling-i-Mahādeo,’ which had been for a long time established at that place—quibus, mulieres infidelium pudenda sua affricant,104a—these, up to this time, the kick of the horse of Islām had not attempted to break.104b The Mussalmāns destroyed all the lingas. Deo Narāīn fell down, and the other gods, who had fixed their seats there, raised their feet and jumped so high, that at one leap they reached the fort of Lankā; and in that affright the lingas themselves would have fled, had they any legs to stand on. And long-lived Satan, who in that temple had induced the sons of Adam to bow down before the lingas of the Deos, fled to Sarandīp in such despair that he reached Adam’s Foot (qadam-i-Adam) and lowered his head before it.104c See how far Islām has succeeded, when even Satan bows his head before Adam.104d The foundations of the temple, which were mines of gold, were dug up, and its jewelled walls, which were mines of precious stones, pulled down. The spades and shovels were sharpened at the heart of the rubies; the pick-axe, shaped like the key, opened the door of victory over the building; and the mattock went into the inlaid wall and brought out the pearls. Wherever there was any treasure in that desolated building, the ground was sifted in a sieve and the treasure discovered. No part of gold remained with the gabrs except its dust, no jewels except the ‘principle’ of fire. When the gold and jewels had been entrusted to the Imperial officers, the successful army moved back to the (central) camp, with its treasures and elephants.
104e On Sunday, the 11th Zill Qa’d, the men of the victorious army arrived before the august canopy and rubbed their mud-smeared foreheads on the ground. The temples of Bīrdhūl had raised their heads to the drum of the sky and their foundations went down to water-depth; but now their foundations were dug up so thoroughly that below every foundation a well (bīr)104f was excavated reaching down to the Fish and the sparkling treasures, which like ducks had been roosting in every corner of the building, were drawn out of the centre of the earth. So much dust was raised from these Hindū houses that the ‘heart’ of Saturn became a well of dust. Two days later the towering canopy started from here; on Thursday, the 15th Zil Qa’d, it arrived at the city of Kim;105a five days later it reached the city of Mathrā, the dwelling place of the brother of the Rāī, Sundar Pāndyā. The city of the great Saturnian, who had a colossal palace, was found as empty as the constellation of Mars. The Rāī had fled along with the Rānīs and only two or three elephants had been left in the temple of Jagannath. In spite of all search for the lost Arrow (Mercury) and the Great Bear, only these two or three clouds (elephants) could be seen. The Malik was so inflamed with anger that he set fire to the temple of Jagannath.
From here the Malik ordered the elephants to be taken to the main camp, and in contradiction to the proverb, that ‘one hill does not go to another’, these elephants were taken to the other elephants. When the ‘Arīẓ counted them at the muster, the line of elephants was three farsangs long, and from farsang to farsang the ground was rubbed and beaten under their feet. Five hundred and twelve elephants, who would have torn ‘the wall of the (First) Alexander’ like a rampart of paper, were brought into the roll of captives by the powerful orders of the Second Alexander. Gigantic bodies they had, and if their feet made no noise when they walked, yet the earth groaned and cried, ‘Surely the violence of the hour is a grievous thing’.105b
Praise of the elephants, with trunks like dragons, under whose feet the hills grew soft as wax.105c They were like hills, so high that the vermilion on their foreheads gave a red lining to the clouds, or else like clouds so much above the ground that water took a long time in falling from their backs. Their bodies were so large that the wind striking their backs was unable to reach their tails; and the Creator of ether had hidden ‘fire’ in them just as lightning is hidden in the clouds. The driver sat on their necks with his goad like the spur of a mountain. But while other clouds rain water and cause vegetables to grow, these clouds drank water and ate vegetables; while other hills contain precious stones and are permanently fixed, these hills contained no treasures and were always on the move. Everyone present wondered at their shape—a sleep hill and a man guiding it. The driver sat on its neck like an angel directing a cloud, and the box on its back looked like a ship floating on the sea. When it was moving, you would have thought it a mighty wave in the ocean; when standing, it looked like the main tower of a fort, adorned with a trunk in place of the munjaniq. And if the waves of the sea are moved by the force of the winds, the elephants, when angry, moved the wind in waves; if the tower of the fort is surmounted by a wooden defence, this tower was adorned by a box of jewels. You might liken it to a dome on four columns, which crushes the infidels by its weight, or to a hill on four rocks, which causes the heretics to slip down its ‘nose’ … In spite of its weight, it moved gently like the wind; in spite of its movement, it seemed to stand still.
Praise of horses whose onslaught on the field of battle destroyed the stone-stables of Time.— 106a When the elephants had retired to their officers, the muster of the horses was taken. The Imperial Arīẓ counted them one by one; they were five thousand in number. There were ‘Yamāni’ and ‘Shāni’ horses, all going to their stables with alluring steps. The ‘marine’ horse could float like a bubble on water. They were swift as lightning; their qualities were those of the rose; their origin was from the wind and yet they yielded softly to the bridle. A man could never attain to their swiftness except in imagination. Their breath was like the morning breeze blowing over the Narcissus; their ears grew like lilies. Everyone of them was an Ahraman, who in the rapidity of his movement, left his shadow behind. Sometimes it would stand in the air; at other times (its swiftness) lay dormant like fire in stone. Its figure captivated the eye and was never again forgotten. It galloped rapidly over uneven paths and could see a needle in the darkness of the night; it finished its journey as quickly as a thread gets into the eye of a needle. When the horses, with such fine figure and qualities, had been reviewed, they were all assigned to the royal stables and enlisted in the service of the Emperor, so that in the Imperial battles another wall came along (with the wall of the elephants). May the whole globe, and even the nine heavens, remain under the Emperor’s rule!
Praise of the treasures of land and sea, worthy of the exalted Solomon.— 106b If a description of the boxes of jewels were attempted, there is no breast in which it could be contained, nor any heart that could appreciate its value. There were five hundred mans of precious stones, and every piece was equal in size to the disc of the (sinking) sun. The diamonds were of such a colour that the sun will have to stare hard for ages before the like of them is made in the factories of the rocks. The pearls glistened so brilliantly that the brow of the clouds will have to perspire for years before such pearls again reach the treasury of the sea. For generations the mines will have to drink blood in the stream of the sun before rubies such as these are produced. The emeralds were of a water so fine, that if the blue sky broke itself into fragments, none of its fragments would equal them. Every diamond sparkled brightly; it seemed as if it was a drop fallen from the sun. As to the other stones, their lustre eludes description just as water escapes out of a small vessel.
107a Through the favour of the Lord of men and jins, and assisted by the sincere motives of the Imam and the Caliph of the age, the orthodox (sunnī) victors had now piously compelled all false houses of worship to bow their heads on the prayer-carpet of the ground and had broken all stone idols like the stony hearts of their worshippers. How clean the breasts of those who broke with the greatest severity these contaminated stones, which Satan had raised like a wall before himself! The hearts of the Mussalmans were now quite satisfied with the breaking of false gods. The elephants, who had gone rubbing their noses against the ground to the thresholds of the temples, now considered the ruby velvet on their backs as their pilgrims’ dress for visiting the capital of Islam, and were ready to bow their heads in obedience to the Emperor of the Seven Climes. The treasure, which was the mainstay and the Ka’ba of those evil men, was collected for the Imperial court. The ceremonies of holy war, which are obligatory duties, had been performed in obedience to the orders of the ‘Commander of the Faithful’. The Malik-i Ghāzī and the holy warriors of the victorious army bowed their heads in thankfulness—‘Victory is only from Allah, the Mighty and the Wise’—and bathed the ground with their perspiration and tears. And in their prayer for the increased power of the Caliphate, they raised their hands so high, as to reach the Treasury of Acceptance.
Return of the victorious army to the Imperial Court of Land and Sea.— 107b On Sunday night the company of stars prepared to return to the Imperial Capital. The breaking up of the camp filled all hearts with a deep joy.107c Next morning, Sunday, the 4th Ẓil Ḥijjah, 710 A.H. the numerous troops, accompanied by their elephants and loaded with their heavy treasure, began their march for the capital. Victory in all her glory led the van, planning further conquests; success accompanied them in all things, and the favour of God protected them. Yes! God will protect the army that protects the world. Young and old rejoiced on account of the favour from Allāh. The noise of ‘Huzza! Huz!’ rose from the infidels—‘They are nothing but as cattle; nay, they are straying further off from the path.’ As the desire to kiss the ground of the Court had overpowered the men of the army, they cheerfully underwent the hardships of the journey. They passed rapidly and without weariness over the mountains, the thought of which makes one feel tired, and crossed, with the indifference of a somnambulist, deep valleys, the dream of which would cause a man to jump up in his sleep. Thorns, the very memory of which pricks one like a spear, appeared to them soft like the hair of their own bodies. They swam through rivers, the thought of which drowns one’s imagination in a sea of wonder, and passed rapidly through hot wind and rain and hail, which was sometimes gentle and sometimes severe, till they finally reached the ‘Shadow of God’, and were protected from sunshine and heat, pain and sorrow. Indeed, they thanked God for the blessings of peace and for the privilege of being able to see the Head of the State.
108a On Monday, the 14th Jamādius Ṯānī, 711 A.H. the exalted Sun (Sultan) held a public durbar in the Golden Palace.108b The ‘Shadow of God’ sat under the canopy, and the rays of his face drove away the evil eye, as if with a baton. The dormant fortunes of men awakened; it seemed that the black shadow of his canopy had lined their sleepy eyes with antimony. His baton struck its light on the head of blood-shedding Mars; his sword cast its scabbard-strap in the neck of the sun. The sky, for all its fearless tyranny, was overpowered by the lustre of the spears, and Time, in spite of its overbearing strength, felt afraid of the fearful bow. The Maliks in innumerable rows rubbed their waists together like so many rubies and diamonds.108c White and brown horses stood in magnificent files, stamping the ground with their feet and turning it into gold. The earth seemed full of (small) hillocks after the great Maliks had rubbed their foreheads upon it, while the prostration of the Tīkadār Rāīs gave it the colour of saffron. The cry of Bismillāh came to the ears of the angels and reminded them of their bowing before Adam; the sound of Hadākallāh fell on Satan’s ears, compelling him to bow down to Adam’s descendants.109a The wind of Imperial favour blew so generously as to take away the power of self-restraint from the wishes of men; yet such was the awe of His Imperial Majesty, that but for the anchor-loads on their backs, the elephants would have fled away. When the right and left wing of the Imperial Court had assembled, the sky recited the ‘Ayatal Kursi’109b and the four angels read the four Quls109c at the four columns. The Emperor’s servant, the Sah-Kash, who had performed more services than can be described, was introduced along with other Maliks and great men who had survived the campaign in which they had so often risked their lives. He bowed the broad forehead of his fortune before the throne and placed his obedient face on the carpet of the Court. The cry of Bismillah rose so high, that Divine favour descended down it from the sky as down a strong rope. Then the review of the spoils began. The ground was covered by the large bodies of the elephants and faultless gems. While the jewels were on the backs of the animals, they indicated that the ‘essence of things’ was finer than the ‘eye’; but when they were scattered at the feet of men and horses, it was proved that the eye was superior to the jewels. All men, who were adorned with two eyes, just as the eye is adorned with two ‘jewels’, wondered at the sight of elephants and jewels. Every gigantic elephant had a female, and the female also had a gigantic stature. The body of the elephant was strong and large; there was a great distance between its head and feet, and the distance between its trunk and tail was greater still; nor could you see the whole of its back and breast except in three views (from three different points). The forgiving Emperor thanked the merciful God, who gives and takes away life, for the acquisition of those valuables; and the circumference of the sky was not extensive enough to contain his gratitude. And it will not be strange, if, in return for his thankfulness, all the creatures of the broad world are conquered by his sword, for gratitude to God is the condition of all great success.
A few words of apology for the innumerable mistakes and defects of this book.110a— By the favour of the Creator this ‘book of victories’ ornamented with the great deeds of Abūl Muẓaffar Muḥammad Shah Sultān, has been brought to an end. It is a specimen of Khusrau’s prose. May this account of some of the victories of this conqueror wander all over the world through the realm of day and night till the Day of Resurrection! My reason for making the book short, and contenting myself with the description of a few victories only, is this: Since the Imperial orders are being issued for the conquest of the whole globe, there is no doubt that victory will carry these commands to every part of the world from east to west. It was easier for me (under the circumstances) to adorn my book with a few gems only to illustrate these victories. So from necessity, I have described a part of the Emperor’s virtues and a few of his conquests; and in words that may fully and correctly express my meaning, I have written a few pages. Nor did I wish that verses in any language, other than Persian and Arabic, should blacken the lip of my pen and the pages of my book. It is certain that the few sentences I have composed are more meaningless than the two-lettered words that are taught to children; that the pages of my book are more weakly joined together than pieces of paper, which it is attempted to stick together with the water of the mouth; and that the ideas I have expressed, though in my opinion fine as hair, are (in reality) no better than a letter written with a hair sticking to the point of the pen. But since I have appealed to Divine assistance in the composition of this book, I hope my inventions will find acceptance in the Sultān’s eyes.
Prayers to God for the acceptance of this book (by the Sultān) and for his forgiveness.110b— May God who has cast the light of guidance on the hearts of the Mussalmāns, procure this description of political events, which is founded on the ‘Opening Chapter’ and verses in support of the Muslim Faith, a good fortune before the last ‘Commander of the Faithful’, Muhammad, on whose forehead shines the verse, ‘Surely we have made you a ruler in the land’. If my pen in its wanderings has ever passed beyond the bounds of respect, and in its ignorance and forgetfulness has said anything not worthy of the Royal Protector of the Faith, may the Lord send this verse from His Book to the Sultan’s inspired heart—‘and those who restrain their anger and pardon men’—so that in his mercy to all men, he may spare my life also. If there is anything defective in my composition, on which men of wit and learning can place their fingers, send me a ray of Thy favour, so that these defects may remain concealed. Lest from the obvious or hidden meaning of my words any conclusion is drawn against the ‘Mother of Books’, I finish my treatise with the sentence—‘There is no God but Allāh, and Muhammad is His Prophet’. And my last prayer is: ‘Make me die a Mussalmān and join me with the good.’ ‘O Lord! Send Thy blessings on Thy creature and Thy messenger, the unlettered Prophet, and on his Family and his Companions, the innocent and the pure, out of Thy mercy, Thou who art the most Merciful of all.’
SUCH was his fortune, that even at the time when he was an amir, he became a Solomon in the country of Deogir (Demon-land). The demon (deo) became so submissive in the land of Jamshed, that Ram Deo’s country was ravaged and the Rai himself was first captured and then set free. Fate placed in Alauddin’s hands a world of treasure, nay, the treasure of the whole world—innumerable elephants and more precious stones than could be carried by a hundred camels…
Next, the army of the Emperor was ordered to march towards Tilang. The Rai of Tilang, a ruler over the world of gold-leaf, possessed a hundred elephants. He wished to raise a tumult with his world-conquering heart, but the prestige of the Emperor overawed him; and as he had not courage enough to resort to dagger-thrusts, he sought refuge in his unlucky fort. The fort was encircled by the Imperial army even as a demon might have been surrounded by Jamshed’s soldiers. The Rai saw himself wounded by the talons of the Emperor’s good fortune; he asked for the right hand of peace and it was extended to him. The Rai then constructed a golden image of himself with a golden cord round its neck and sent it to the Imperial army with one hundred elephants and a treasure beyond all reckoning. In return for this the Malik spared the Rai’s life; yet in order to test him—and an arrow is not kept blunt except on purpose—he thundered in rage: ‘If the Rai does not come in person, we shall take up the dagger in the hand of peace we have extended to him.’ When the Rai’s neck heard this, it felt like rolling itself on its head (to the Malik’s presence); so before he could be brought out by compulsion, the Rai came out in person wlth his head still on his neck. This display of submission saved his rebellious neck from the decapitating sword and he was allowed to reign in his own territory. Having been deprived of all his wealth, Saturn was left in his empty constellation. After thus suppressing the rebels, the victorious army returned to the Court; it was distinguished by royal favours and even ordinary horsemen were raised to the status of respectable amirs.
Next, the Barbek was ordered to make the elephants of Ma’bar the morsel of his falcons, so that the heroes of the army may be intoxicated with Ma’bari blood. He was to conquer the seacoast till Lanka (Ceylon) with his sword; the land right up to Sarandip (Ceylon) was to be perfumed with the amber of faith and the heads of Satan’s followers knocked down in quick succession at Adam’s feet. Accompanied by Victory herself, the army started with the intention of raising from the sea a dust that would rise up to the moon. When it reached the territory of the Rai Rayan, the ground became invisible under the feet of the quadrupeds, but as Deogir was already submissive, the army moved against the other Deos, while the earth trembled under its feet. Here, too, was a famous Rai, Bilal Deo, a person of great reputation in those days who through the strength of his elephants and his treasure had often done considerable harm to Deogir. At a hint (from the Malik) the army began to plunder the country. But the wise Rai refused to fight; he came fearlessly out of his fort and handed over to the Imperial army with all elephants, horses and valuables he possessed.
After this fortunate victory on the way, the army provided itself with the necessary material of war and moved like a wall of iron towards the ocean. It raised such a storm that stones flew about like straws, ships were wrecked in the sea and the villages and towns situated on the line of march shook from seacoast to seacoast. In that vicinity also there was an august Rai, a Brahman named Bir Pandya, the finest gem in the crown of the Hindus. His sway was unchallenged over land and sea, and there were many inland cities and harbours in his dominions, the chief of them being Patan, where the Rai resided, and Marhat Puri which contained a famous idol and temple. The golden temple raised its head to the moon and Saturn felt ashamed of it; the idol was drowned in rubies and precious stones, everyone of which was valuable enough to provide food for a whole city. The Rai possessed a large army and countless boats; Mussalmans as well as Hindus were in his service. He had a thousand elephants and horses more than could be counted. When the Imperial army reached Patan, the misguided Rai forgot his path in fear, and in spite of the strength he possessed, hid himself like an ant in the forest. His subjects wandered disconsolate on all sides, and his elephants and troops went about searching for their lost ‘head’. An army becomes a mere mob when its leader is not to be found—what is the use of the body when the head has been cut off? The Muslim troopers of the Rai submitted to the Imperial army; the commander (Malik Kafur) forgave them, encouraged them, and treated them with favour. Next, they applied their iron instruments to the golden idol and opened doors into the ‘heads’ of the temple, which though it was the Ka’ba of the accursed gabrs, yet kissed the ground of the Imperial Treasury. The gold and treasure of (the temple)—so heavy that it would have casued a hill in the other pan of the balance to fly up—was placed on mountain-like elephants for the Imperial Court. When the Ma’bar expedition was over, the wise Commander brought the army back to the capital, where it was distinguished by royal favours. How great, indeed, is the fortune of the Emperor who conquers the world without stirring from his throne. At a motion of his eyebrows in Delhi, Ma’bar and Bahrain are plundered. He has only to will it, and all the Deos of India become submissive to him.
‘Alauddin, the governor of Karra, marched out of that place to Bhilsan with his uncle’s permission. Here an enormous booty fell into his hands; and he brought it, together with a bronze idol worshipped by the Hindus of that place, to the Sultan at Delhi. The idol was buried beneath the road under the Badaun Gate; and Jalaluddin, well-pleased with his nephew, appointed him Arz-i Mumalik and bestowed on him the governorship of Oudh in addition to the governorship of Karra. At Bhilsan ‘Alauddin had heard of the elephants and wealth of Deogir and enquired about the routes to that place. He had resolved to collect a large army at Karra for an attack on Deogir without informing the Sultan. Finding the Sultan more kind and affectionate than ever, he applied for some delay in paying the dues (fawazil) of Karra and Oudh. ‘I have heard,’ he represented, ‘that within the boundaries of Chanderi and many regions adjoining it, the people are free and ignorant and entertain no apprehension of the army of Delhi. If I am allowed, I will invest the money due from me (fawazil) to the Diwan in enlisting new horse and foot. With these I will march to those territories and bring the enormous spoils that I win, together with dues of which I am postponing the payment, to the Sultan’s Diwan.’ The Sultan, owing to his simple and trustful heart, did not see that ‘Alauddin was so worried by his wife and mother-in-law that he wanted to conquer some distant territory where he might settle permanently without returning home. He allowed ‘Alauddin to postpone the payment of the revenues due and to increase his army. The latter returned to his governorship with his object achieved.
‘Alauddin’s feelings had been embittered against his mother-in-law, the Malaka-i Jahan, while the disobedience of his wife, the Sultan’s daughter, had made him sick of life. Fear of the Malaka-i Jahan, who had a great influence with the Sultan, as well as the dignity of the Sultan himself, prevented ‘Alauddin from complaining of his wife’s disobedience to Jalaluddin; and fear of public disgrace prevented him from speaking of his troubles to anyone else. He passed his days in sorrow and distress and often consulted his friends at Karra about his plan of going out in to the world to win a position for himself.
With the dues (fawazil) remitted to him by the Sultan and the income of his own governorship (mahsul) ‘Alauddin fitted out three or four thousand foot-soldiers (payaks) with whom he set out from Karra on an expedition to Deogir. Publicly, however, he gave out that he was going to plunder Chanderi and kept his plans about Deogir secret. He appointed as his deputy (naib) for Karra and Oudh my uncle Alaul Mulk, one of his chief associates. He marched by stages to Elichpur and thence to Ghati Lajura. Here all intelligence of him was lost. But Alaul Mulk kept on sending the Sultan regular reports from Karra. These contained vague statements that ‘Alauddin was busy in chastising and plundering rebels, and that he would send his own reports in a day or two. The Sultan, who had brought up ‘Alauddin (as a son), suspected no evil. But discerning men in the City and the Court concluded from ‘Alauddin’s continued absence, that he had gone out to seek his fortune in a distant land. This news, born of guess-work, soon spread among the people.
When ‘Alauddin arrived at Ghati Lajura, the army of Ram Deo under the command of his son, had gone on a distant expedition. The people of Deogir had never heard of Islam before this time, for the land of the Mahrattas had never been invaded by any (Muslim) king, khan or malik. And yet Deogir contained an enormous quantity of gold, silver, jewels, pearls and other valuables. When Ram Deo heard of the approach of the Muslim army, he collected together such troops as he could and sent them under one of his ranas to Ghati Lajura. It was defeated by ‘Alauddin, who entered Deogir. On the first day he captured thirty elephants and several thousand horses. Ram Deo then came and offered his submission. ‘Alauddin brought with him such enormous quantities of gold and silver, jewels and pearls, that though more than two generations have passed since then and much has been spent in every reign at the devolution of the Crown, a large part of those elephants, jewels, pearls and other goods is still left in the Treasury of Delhi.
I have referred to the consolidation of ‘Alauddin’s government and his freedom from administrative anxieties in order (to show) that when at last his power was permanently established and his mind relieved from the dangers that had beset him on every side, when the fort of Siri had been built and the town of Siri inhabited, the Sultan applied himself to schemes of conquest. Apart from the army which he had stationed on the route of the Mughal invasions, he organized a second army to overpower the rais and zamindars of foreign lands and seize the elephants and treasures of the Deccan.
In the first expedition the Malik Naib Kafur Hazardinari was sent to Deogir with the amirs and maliks and the red canopy. Khwaja Haji, the Naib ‘Arz i Mumalik, was also sent with him to look after the administration of the army and the collection of elephants and treasures. No army had been sent from Delhi to Deogir since the time ‘Alauddin had invaded it as a mere malik; consequently, Ram Deo had rebelled and refrained from sending any tribute for years. The Malik Naib reached Deogir with a well-drilled army, plundered the territory and captured Ram Deo and his sons together with the Rai’s treasury and seventeen elephants. Great spoils fell into the hands of the troops. A message of victory was sent from Deogir to Delhi; it was read from the top of the pulpits, and drums were beaten in joy. The Malik Naib returned to Delhi with Ram Deo and the spoils, and presented them before the throne. The Sultan treated Ram Deo with great favour and presented him with the green canopy along with the title of Rai Rayan. He was further given a lac of tankas and sent back with great honour to Deogir with his sons, family and followers. Deogir was reconferred on him. Thenceforth to the end of his life, Ram Deo always obeyed the Sultan; he passed his remaining days in loyal obedience, never wavered from ‘Alauddin’s orders and sent regular tribute to Delhi.
Next year, in A.H. 709 ‘Alauddin sent the Malik Naib to Arangal with the maliks, amirs and a large army accompanied by the red canopy. ‘Sacrifice your treasure, elephants and horses in capturing the fort of Arangal,’ the Sultan directed him, ‘and try to make up for the loss in future years. Be quick and do not persist in exacting too much. Do not insist on Laddar Deo’s presenting himself before you in person or on bringing him to Delhi for the sake of your fame and honour. Do not remain there long. Be moderate and polite in your dealings with the maliks and amirs. Do not undertake any venture without consulting Khwaja Haji and the more important officers. Be kind and gentle to the men and do not show any unnecessary irritation. You are going into a foreign country; it is a long journey from there to Delhi and you should not be guilty of any acts or words which may lead to trouble. Connive at the small speculations and faults of the men. As to the amirs, officers, generals and administrators of the army, do not treat them so mildly as to make them bold and disobedient nor so harshly as to turn them into your enemies. Keep yourself well informed of the good and bad acts of the officers and prohibit the amirs from assembling together and visiting each other’s camps. Apart from gold and silver, do not be harsh in collecting the fifth. If the amirs ask you to leave them a few slaves or horses they have captured, accede to their request. If they ask you for a loan either for themselves or their men, give them the money and take a receipt. And whenever the horse of an amir, officer or trooper is killed in battle, or stolen by a thief, or is otherwise disabled, give him from the royal stable a horse equally good or better; and ask the Khwaja to note down the loss or destruction of every horse in the Diwan-i Arz, for such a record is necessary for the purposes of the government.’
The Malik Naib and Khwaja Haji took leave of the Sultan and went to Rabri, a town in the territory of the Malik Naib, where they collected the troops. Then by continuous marches they moved towards Deogir and Arangal. At Chanderi the maliks and amirs of Hindustan joined them with their horse and foot, and a muster of the army was held. The Rai Rayan, Ram Deo, came to the frontier of Deogir to receive the army of Islam with innumerable presents for the Malik Naib and the maliks and amirs. While the army was marching across his kingdom, Ram Deo came and kissed the ground before the red canopy every day, and when it encamped in the suburbs of Deogir, he performed all the duties of a loyal chief. He provided fodder for the Malik Naib and the officers, and supplied the royal (Sultani) factories the material they required. Every day he came with his muqaddams to pay homage to the red canopy. He sent the shopkeepers of Deogir to the army and ordered them to supply everything to the soldiers at a cheap rate. After staying for a few days in the suburbs of Deogir, the army prepared to move. Ram Deo hastily sent his own men with his order to all the towns on the route to Tilang: ‘At all the stages in the Deogir territory up to the frontier of Arangal, they were to keep corn, fodder and all other necessary things in readiness; they were to obey the Malik Naib like the people of Delhi, and would be held responsible if a piece of rope was lost; they were to allow stragglers to pass through their land and look after them till they reached the army.’ He further ordered several Mahratta horsemen and footmen to accompany the army, while he himself went with the Malik Naib for several stages and then took leave and returned. The wise and experienced men of the army appreciated Ram Deo’s loyal obedience and sincerity. ‘Putting noblemen of noble birth at the head of affairs’, they said, ‘bears such fruits as we see in Ram Deo.’
When the Malik Naib reached the frontier of Tilang, he discovered that the towns and villages on his way had been laid waste. Seeing the superiority of the army of Islam, the rais and muqaddams had abandoned their own forts and fled for refuge to the fort of Arangal. The mud-fort of Arangal was very extensive and all the veterans of that region had collected there, while the Rai with his muqaddams, rais and relatives had crept into the inner fort of stone with their elephants and treasures. The Malik Naib sat down to invest the mud-fort. Every day a fierce battle took place between the besiegers and the besieged; maghrabi— stones were shot; and blows were inflicted and received by both parties. After a few days had been spent in this manner, the adventurous and desperate men of the army of Islam planted their scaling ladders and threw up their ropes; then like birds, they flew up to the towers of the fort, the mud of which was harder than stone, and with the blows of their sword, arrow, spear and axe, overpowered the defenders and made themselves masters of the mud-fort. To the garrison within the stone-fort the world now appeared smaller than the eye of an ant. Laddar Deo realized that all was lost and that his stone-fort was in imminent danger. He sent distinguished Brahmans and ambassadors (basiths) to the Malik Naib and asked for terms, promising to give up all the treasure, elephants, horses, jewels and other valuables which he possessed, and to send every year a certain amount of money and a number of elephants to the royal Treasury and stables of Delhi. The Malik Naib gave him terms and refrained from capturing the stone-fort. He took from the Rai the treasure which he (and his ancestors) had been accumulating for years—one hundred elephants, seven thousand horses, a large quantity of jewels and other valuables, and a deed promising money and elephants for future years. Towards the beginning of the year A.H. 710, the Malik Naib turned back from Arangal with his spoils and returned to Delhi by the same route through Deogir, Dhar and Jhaiun. His message of victory had reached the Sultan before him; it was read from the top of the pulpits, and drums were beaten in joy. When the Malik Naib returned ‘Alauddin granted him an audience on the Chautre-i Sultani, in the open country before the Badaun Gate. The gold, jewel, elephants, horses and other valuables brought by the Malik Naib were reviewed by the Sultan, while the people of Delhi enjoyed the display.
It was the Sultan’s habit, whenever he sent an army from Delhi, to establish posts from Tilpat, which is the first stage, to the army-camp or so far as they could be established. At every stage relays of fast horses were stationed, while runners (dhawas) sat at every half or quarter karoh throughout the way. Moreover, in every town on the way, as well as in the villages where fast horses were stationed, officers and report-writers (kaifiat-nawis) were appointed. Thus every day, or every second or third day, news of the army was brought to the Sultan and the news of the Sultan’s safety carried to the troops. Consequently, no false rumours could circulate in the City or in the army camp. This interchange of news was a great benefit to the country. On this occasion, however, while the Malik Naib was besieging the mud-fort of Arangal, some posts in the way were disestablished as the passage across Tilang was extremely dangerous, and for more than forty days no news of the army came to the Sultan. ‘Alauddin became very anxious, while the leading men of the City began to suspect that some misfortune had overtaken the army or an insurrection had broken out. On one of these anxious days, the Sultan sent Malik Qara Beg and Qazi Mughisuddin of Biana to Shaikh Nizamuddin. ‘Give my respects to the Shaikh,’ he said, ‘and tell him that the non-arrival of any intelligence from the army has made me anxious. He is more concerned for the glory of Islam than I am; if his spiritual insight has revealed anything about the army to him, let him send the news to me. Let me know everything you hear from the lips of the Shaikh, without any additions or deductions.’ The two messengers went to the Shaikh, who after hearing the royal message, informed them of Sultan’s victory and triumph. ‘But what is this victory?’ he added, ‘I expect victories greater still.’ The Malik and the Qazi hastened back rejoicing to the Sultan and told him all they had heard. ‘Alauddin was extremely pleased on hearing the Shaikh’s reply; he felt certain that Arangal had been conquered and his wishes realized. He took out his handkerchief and tied a knot in a corner. ‘I take the Shaikh’s reply for a good omen,’ he said, ‘vain words do not come to his lips. Arangal has been conquered and I may expect further victories.’ As destiny would have it, runners bringing the message of victory from the Malik Naib came on that very day before the zuhr prayer. The message was read from the top of the pulpits on Friday, drums were beaten and rejoicings were held in the City. The Sultan’s faith in the Shaikh’s spiritual power increased; though he never personally met the Shaikh, yet throughout his life no words at which the Shaikh could be displeased ever came to his lips. The Shaikh’s enemies and rivals told him everything about the Shaikh’s munificence, of the large crowds that frequented his house, of his meals and his liberality, but though he was jealous by nature, ‘Alauddin never paid any attention to their reports. During the later years of his reign, he developed a great faith in the Shaikh. But the two never met.
Towards the end of the year A.H. 710 ‘Alauddin again sent the Malik Naib with a disciplined army to Dhur Samandar and Ma’bar. The Malik Naib and Khwaja Haji took leave of the Sultan at Delhi and proceeded to Rabri, where the army was collected. Then they moved on by stages to Deogir. Ram Deo had died. Continuous marches from Deogir brought the Malik Naib to the frontier of Dhur Samandar. Bilal, the Rai of Dhur Samandar, fell into the hands of the Muslim army in the first attack (?) Dhur Samandar was captured along with the treasure it contained and thrity-six elephants. A message of victory was received in Delhi.
From Dhur Samandar, the Malik Naib proceeded to Ma’bar. Ma’bar was captured without resistance; its golden temple was destroyed and the golden idols, which had for generations past been worshipped by the Hindus of the place, were broken. All the spoils of the temple—the gold from the broken idols and stones precious beyond description—were brought to the army chest. There were two Rais in Ma’bar. From both of them the Malik Naib took away their elephants and treasures. Then, having sent his message of victory before himself, he turned back victorious and triumphant. In the beginning of the year A.H. 711 he reached Delhi with six hundred and twelve elephants, twenty thousand horses, ninety-six thousand mans of gold, and many chests of jewels and pearls. On this occasion the Malik Naib presented the spoils to the Sultan at different times in the Koshak-i Siri, while the Sultan gave away half, one, two and even four mans of gold as present to various maliks and amirs. The old men of Delhi declared with one voice: ‘No one remembers, nor has it been recorded in any of the histories of Delhi, that such spoils, elephants and treasures have in any age or generation been brought to the City as after the capture of Ma’bar and Dhur Samandar.’ At the end of the same year twenty elephants reached Delhi with a letter from Laddar Deo, the Rai of Tilang. ‘I hold in readiness,’ the Rai wrote to the Sultan, ‘the money which I promised before the royal red canopy, and concerning which I have given a deed to the Malik Naib. If allowed, I will hand over the money at Deogir to anyone commissioned to receive it. I wish to carry out the obligations of my treaty and compact.’
A large army had once before been sent to Arangal by way of Bengal, but unable to effect anything, it had returned dilapidated and ruined. In the year A.H. 709 the Emperor sent the Malik Naib with an enormous army on a second expedition to Arangal, but this time by way of Deogir. ‘If Laddar Deo, the ruler of Arangal,’ such were ‘Alauddin’s directions, ‘gives up his treasure, jewels and elephants, and promises to pay an yearly tribute, rest content with it and do not try to conquer the fort of Arangal or the territory of Tilang, Consult Khwaja Haji in the direction of affairs. Do not put the amirs to task for small offences. If a trooper’s horse is killed in battle, stolen by a thief or otherwise disabled, give him a better one in its place.’ The Malik Naib and Khwaja Haji reached Deogir by continuous marches. Ram Deo came out to receive them with many presents and wonderfully fulfilled all the duties of a host. He sent the shopkeepers of his own army to the Malik Naib’s troops and directed them to sell their wares at the Imperial tariff-rates. He personally came to pay his respects before the red canopy every day. When the Malik Naib started from Deogir for Tilang, Ram Deo accompanied him for a few stages; then leaving a part of his horse and foot with the Malik Naib to keep guard over the army and show the way to Tilang, he returned with (the Malik Naib’s) permission. Moreover, he ordered the merchants, raiyats and corn-dealers of his kingdom to continue their duty of carrying grain and all other necessaries to the army and to see to it that the (Delhi) troops were not put to trouble on any account. When the Malik Naib reached the pargana of Indore on the frontier of Tilang, he ordered his troops to kill and plunder without stint. A terror surpassing all description took possession of the inhabitants, and the rais of the surrounding country collected round Laddar Deo from fear of the Muslim army. When the invaders approached, Ladder Deo took refuge in the inner fort of Arangal, which was of stone while the other rais remained in the very extensive outer fort of mud. The Malik Naib invested the fort and closed all exits; but the infidels raised the banner of defence and a great number of men fell every day. After a long time and with great effort, the outer fort was at last conquered and most of the rais and zamindars were captured with their women, children, families and tribes. Laddar Deo was now helpless. He offered three hundred elephants, seven thousand horses, plenty of jewels and cash, and promised to pay an yearly tribute. The Malik Naib (accepted it) and prepared to return. When the news reached the Emperor, drums were beaten in Delhi, the message of victory was read from the pulpits and all the ceremonies of thanks-giving were duly performed. On the Malik Naib’s arrival, ‘Alauddin came out of the City and sat on the Chabutra-i Nasiri near the Badaun Gate, where the Malik Naib presented his spoils and became the object of unprecedented royal favours.
It is said that whenever ‘Alauddin sent his army in any direction, posts (dak chaukis) called bam in the language of former times, were stationed from Delhi to the camp of the army. Two swift-running footmen, known in Hind as paiks, were placed at every karoh and clerks (navisandas) were stationed at every city and town on the route to despatch a daily written report on the events of the place. Now, while the Malik Naib was besieging the fort of Arangal, the roads became dangerous owing to the large number of Telangi soldiers and the posts were swept away. For some days no news of the army arrived. The Emperor was perplexed and sent Qazi Mughisuddin of Biana and Malik Qara Beg to Shaikh Nizamuddin Aulia. ‘Give my respects to the Shaikh,’ he said, ‘and tell him that my mind is weighed down by the non-arrival of any news from the army. He has even a greater concern for Islam than I have and if he has come to know anything about it through the revelations of the inner light, request him to give me some hints. And tell me exactly whatever comes to Shaikh’s lips in answer to this, without adding or subtracting anything.’ When the two messengers reached the Shaikh and conveyed their message, the Shaikh referred to an emperor of the past and related the story of his conquests; in the course of conversation he remarked that he (the Shaikh) expected other victories in addition to the conquest of Arangal. ‘Alauddin was extremely pleased and felt sure that Arangal had been conquered. As providence would have it, that very afternoon messengers brought the message of victory from Arangal. The Emperor’s faith in the Shaikh increased; though ‘Alauddin never evinced any desire to see the Shaikh personally, yet by the despatch of messengers and letters he gave evidence of his sincerity and friendship and invoked the Shaikh’s blessing.
‘Alauddin had conquered all forts from the frontiers of Sindh and Kabul to the border of Bengal, and also the forts of Gujrat and the Deccan; the hereditary dominions of the rajahs had come into his hands; and there were not ten bighas of land in the inhabited parts of Hindustān where his khutba was not read. He now began to aspire for the coast of the Sea of ‘Umman (Indian Ocean) and the remotest corners of the south. The Malik Naib and Khwaja Haji were despatched in A.H. 710 to subjugate Dhur Samandar and Ma’bar. The temples of those lands were full of gold and precious jewels and their rais had a great reputation for the wealth of their treasuries. When the two generals reached Deogir, they found that Ram Deo was dead and had been succeeded by his son. Not reposing the same trust in the loyalty of the son as they had in the loyalty of the father, they left an officer of their own near the town of Jallahpur on the bank of the Ganges (Godavari) before proceeding further. This time they tried to slay the infidels more than ever before, and marched on riotously till after a journey of three months they reached the destined ports. They overpowered Bital (Bilal) Deo, rajah of the Carnatic, plundered his country, broke the temples and seized all idols which were set with jewels. They also built a small mosque of stone and plaster, in which they gave the Prophet’s call for prayers and read the Emperor’s khutba. The mosque still exists in the suburbs of Sit Band Ramisar and is known as the Masjid-i ‘Alai (‘Alauddin’s mosque). It can be seen from there that the port of Dhur Samandar, situated on the shore of the Sea of ‘Umman (Arabian Sea), has now been destroyed by the innundations of the sea. It is said that the infidels, out of respect due to a house of God, have refrained from destroying the mosque. But, according to others, it is written in the books of the infidels that this land, as well as the whole of the inhabited globe, will finally come under the sway of Muslim rulers; consequently their divines have not permitted the Hindus to destroy the mosque. Be this as it may, the Malik Naib, having seized the treasure of the Rai, prepared to depart. The Brahmans of the place had been spared by the victors and were living with the army. On the night before its departure, some of them took out a part of the treasure, which was buried under the temples; but while dividing it among themselves, they began to quarrel and disputed very loudly. A Mussalman, who came to know of this, informed the Kotwal. The Kotwal arrested all the Brahmans and brought them before the Malik Naib. The Brahmans, from fear of the rack and torture, gave up all they had; they showed where the treasure lay concealed, and also six other spots in the forest where treasures were buried. The Malik Naib acquired a world of wealth from those places, loaded it on elephants and started for Ma’bar. Here, too, he broke the temples and seized the cash and jewels, which the rais had hoarded for thousands of years. Then, loaded with booty, he started on his return journey and reached Delhi in A.H. 711. He presented to the Emperor before the Hazar Sutun Palace three hundred and twelve elephants, twenty thousand horses, ninety-six thousand mans of gold, being equivalent to about ten karores of tankas, and caskets of pearls and jewels beyond all computation. The Emperor was mightily pleased to see the treasure, before which the ‘bad awurd’ of Parwiz was a trifle. Contrary to his usual practice, he opened the door of his treasury and gave five and ten mans of gold to each of his amirs; the divines, shaikhs and other deserving persons got a man or half-a-man each while smaller people also received presents in proportion to their deserts. The rest of the gold was melted in the Emperor’s presence and the Alai mint-mark (muhr) was put upon it. Since silver has never been referred to in the spoils brought by the Malik Naib from the Carnatic, it would seem that no particular value was attached to silver in those lands and that it was not current (as a coin). Even now most people in those parts use gold (as a circulating medium). Not to speak of the rich, the very beggars feel ashamed of wearing silver ornaments while most men of the middle class dine in plates of gold.
SALDI AND TARGHI
As I have explained in the introduction, Khusrau avoids all reference to events that were not to ‘Alauddin’s credit. Thus he simply ignores the two invasions in which the Mughals invested Delhi and ‘Alauddin’s position became precarious. They were, probably, omitted by the Fath-i Namah also. Barni, however, describes them in greater detail than is his habit, for the great historian had little love for military men and their ways. I give below some extracts about the three Mughal invasions Khusrau has ignored.
‘Towards the end of the same year (i.e. in the fourth year of ‘Alauddin’s reign), Kutlugh Khwaja, son of the accursed Zaidu, invaded Hindustan with twenty tumans of Mughals. They started from Mawaraun Nahr equipped and ready for a great war, crossed the Sind (Indus) and by stages reached the neighbourhood of Delhi. Since they intended to capture Delhi, they refrained from attacking the forts on their way and did not plunder the country through which they passed. The coming of these wretches with an army numerous as ants and locusts spread consternation through the City. Young and old were equally dismayed, for they had never been through such a crisis before. All the inhabitants of the neighbouring towns fled for refuge to the old fort Delhi, which had not been repaired. The City was fearfully over-crowded; the mosques, streets and lanes could hardly hold the people. The price of commodities in the City rose very high for the caravan-routes had been blocked.
‘The Sultan marched out of Delhi with great pomp. The royal camp was pitched at Siri, and the maliks, amirs and soldiers were summoned to Delhi from all quarters. My uncle, ‘Alaul Mulk, Kotwal of Delhi, was one of the Sultan’s confidential advisers, and when the Sultan left Delhi, he assigned the harem, the City and the Treasury to my uncle’s care.
‘Alaul Mulk, who had gone to Siri to bid the Sultan farewell, represented to him: “Kings and ministers, who have governed the world in the past, have shunned great battles in which it is not possible to foresee on which side victory will lean or what any moment will bring forth. They have advised that wars between equals should be avoided, for such wars are dangerous both to the king and to his subjects. War, it is written in the wills of kings, is like the scales of a balance; the weight of a few coins will raise one scale and depress the other; and everything may in a moment be ruined beyond repair. Though a defeat is not ruinous to monarchs in ordinary warfare and matters can be patched up again, yet kings have been very nervous about a war between equals, in which the whole country is played for at a single stroke; and they have, so far as possible, averted by diplomacy and the formation of strong leagues the mortal danger, which they were unable to face. This is why kings send ambassadors and envoys to each other without hesitation.
‘“Your Majesty should send in front, in order to block the Mongol advance, the camel-riders, who are as strong as a hundred thousand horse, while you yourself stop here with your army and postpone for a few days an engagement with the enemy, who is swarming like ants and locusts. Beguile them for a while, so that we may see what they are at and how the situation develops. We can give them battle, if there is no other alternative left. But they are not stretching their hands in plunder; they have collected their men together and crept into the forts. How will their immense army, from which they do not allow ten men to be separated, find fodder? How will they live? If a few days are spent in the coming and going of ambassadors, we will be able to discover their intention. It is possible that they might become tired, take to plunder and withdraw; and then Your Majesty can pursue them for a few stages.
‘“I am an old and tried servant,” Alaul Mulk continued, “I have always placed before Your Majesty my views concerning the management of affairs and Your Majesty has rewarded me for doing so. But the wisest course is that which Your Majesty prefers. The judgment of the great king is superior to the judgment of other men. I have also thought out some schemes for putting a stop to the invasions of the Mughals and shall place them before Your Majesty at a moment of leisure. But this time the wretches have come with an immense multitude, and though God has given us a large and well-equipped army, yet most of our soldiers are Hindustanis, whose lives have been passed in fighting the Hindus; they have not encountered the Mughals before and are ignorant of their tactics and their deceitful retreats and ambushes. If the Mughals, by some wise measure, could be induced to retreat on this occasion, it will be possible for us to organize the army of Delhi so efficiently that our troops will be only too glad to meet them in future.”
‘The Sultan commended ‘Alaul Mulk’s well-meant advice for its loyalty. Then he summoned the great Khans and Maliks to his presence and addressed them as follows: “You know that ‘Alaul Mulk is a wazir and a wazir-zada. He is a well-wisher of mine and has been my counsellor from the time when I was a malik. He deserves the wizarat (ministership) by right, though owing to his corpulence I have only given him the Kotwalship. At this moment he has expressed some strong views and brought forward lucid arguments to dissuade me from joining battle with the Mughals. I wish to give him my answer in the presence of you all, for you are the pillars of my Government.”
‘“‘Alaul Mulk!” continued the Sultan, turning towards the Kotwal, “You are an old and faithful servant. You lay claim to the wizarat of the state and to wisdom. Now hear from me, your patron and your king, the judgment that is wise and true. There is a well-known saying: ‘One cannot steal a camel and escape in darkness.’ Neither can one retain the Empire of Delhi by following such advice as yours—by shunning war and seeking refuge behind the camel’s backs. It would be unbecoming for me to avoid battle by deceit or fraud. Contemporaries as well as posterity will laugh at my beard if I act on your advice, specially when my enemies have marched two thousand Karohs from their own country and challenged me to a combat beneath the Delhi Tower. On an occasion like this you ask me to act like a coward, to send my camels in front, while I sit, like a hen or a duck on her eggs, hatching schemes by which my enemy may be subdued. To whom will I be able to show my face, if I acted thus? With what manliness will I be able to go into my harem again? Of what account will I remain to the people of my country? How will my bravery and courage keep my turbulent people in obedience? Happen what may, to-morrow I will move from here (Siri) to the plain of Kili and fight Kutlugh Khwaja and his men till it is clear to which of us two God grants victory and success.
‘“‘Alaul Mulk! I have given you the Kotwalship of Delhi and entrusted the City, the harem and the Treasury to your care. It is your duty to kiss the keys of the Treasury and the gates and lay them before the victor, whoever he may be, and serve him faithfully. But do you not, with all your wisdom and experience, see that war could only have been avoided by diplomacy before the enemy had surrounded us. But when he comes before me with such an army, I have no other alternative, no other plan, but straightway to knock him down, and, at the risk of my own life, to take the breath out of his body with the blows of my axe and sword and spear. The household tales you tell me are of no use in the market-place. Subtle things, which may be nicely told on the four yards of a clean carpet at home, are inappropriate on the field of battle, where a stream of blood has to flow from both sides. As to the plans you have thought of for stopping the Mughal invasions, I will hear them the day after the battle is over and I have discharged its duties. You are a learned man and the son of a learned man. By all means tell me everything that comes to your mind concerning this problem.”
‘“I am an old servant,” ‘Alaul Mulk replied, “and I have never hesitated in placing my views before Your Majesty.”
‘“You are a faithful man,” the Sultan assured him, “and I have taken your well-meant advice in proper spirit. But the situation before us is one in which discretion has to be thrown to the wind, and there is no course for us but to risk our lives and offer battle, to draw our swords and fall upon the enemy.”
‘‘Alaul Mulk kissed the Sultan’s hands in farewell. He then returned to Delhi and closed all entrances except the Badaun Gate. Young and old in the City were seized with dismay and lifted up their hands in prayer.
‘Sultan ‘Alauddin marched with the army of Islam from Siri to Kili and encamped there. Kutlugh Khwaja also came forward and encamped opposite. People were struck with amazement and wonder, for in no previous generation or age had armies so large opposed each other in battle. Both armies were arrayed in order and stood waiting for the engagement to commence. Zafar Khan, the commander of the right wing, and his amirs drew their swords, rushed forward and fell upon the enemy. The Mughals were unable to withstand the onslaught; they broke and fled and the army of Islam followed in pursuit. Zafar Khan, the Rustam of his generation, continued the chase; with the blows of his sword he made them fly before him, while he cut off their heads. He pursued them for eighteen karohs. The Mughals were so frightened that they could not distinguish their bridles from the crupper of their saddles and had not the courage to turn back. But Ulugh Khan, who commanded the left wing and had many amirs and a large army, did not stir from his place. He hated Zafar Khan and would not move forward to help him.
‘Now the accursed Targhi with his tuman had been placed in ambush as a reserve. His Mughals climbed the trees and discovered that no horsemen (from the army of Delhi) were moving forward to support Zafar Khan. As soon as he found this out, Targhi attacked Zafar Khan from behind and surrounded him on all sides with a ring of Mughal forces. Zafar Khan was hailed with a shower of arrows and unhorsed. But the brave hero, though on foot, continued to fight; he took out his arrows from his quiver and brought down a Mughal at every shot. At that moment Kutlugh Khwaja sent him a message: “Come to me. I will take you to my father, who will raise you to a higher dignity than the king of Delhi has done.” But Zafar paid no attention to his offer. Kutlugh Khwaja tried to capture him alive, but as this proved impossible, the Mughals attacked him from all sides and he was martyred. Then they slew his amirs, wounded his elephants and killed the elephant-drivers.
‘The increasing darkness saved the Mughals that night. But Zafar Khan’s attack had filled their hearts with terror; they fled from the battle-field in the early hours of the morning and did not pitch their tents again till they had marched thirty karohs from Delhi. Then by marches of twenty karohs, and without resting at any stage, they reached their own frontier. But they remembered Zafar Khan’s attack for years. “It must have seen Zafar Khan,” they would say whenever their cattle refused to drink water. An army so large never came again to give battle in the suburbs of Delhi.’123a
Ferishta does not add anything substantial to Barni’s narrative: ‘Towards the end of the same year, Kutlugh Khwaja, son of Dawa Khan, came from Mawaraun Nahr with twenty tumans of Mughals, i.e., 200,000 horsemen, resolved upon the conquest of Hindustan. After crossing the river Sind (Indus), he considered the towns and villages on his route as belonging to himself and consequently refrained from injuring them. On reaching the bank of the Jumna, he laid siege to Delhi. Innumerable people had fled to Delhi from the “New City” (Kailugarhi) and the surrounding towns and villages from fear of the Mughals; the crowd was such that in the mosques, markets, streets and quarters of the City there was no place either to sit or stand. Men were sick of the overcrowding; the prices of all things rose exorbitantly as the roads for bringing corn and provisions were closed. Sultan ‘Alauddin summoned his maliks and amirs and began to get his army ready. Some of the amirs, however, were against giving battle; they urged that the army of Hindustan was weak and hinted that war was a doubtful business, which may have either of two results. The Emperor refused to accept their advice. “It does not become famous kings to shun war and battle,” he replied.
‘Consequently, entrusting the safety of the City, the harem and the Treasury to the Kotwal, ‘Alaul Mulk, and closing all entrances except the Badaun Gate, ‘Alauddin marched out of Delhi with imperial pomp. He had, according to the correct narrative, 300,000 horse and 2,700 elephants. The two armies beat their drums and arranged their ranks on the plain of Kili. Never since the elevation of the Muslim standard in India, had armies so large met each other in battle; nor have they since then till now, A.H. 1015. In short, the Second Alexander placed his army in order of battle. The right wing was entrusted to Hizhabruddin Zafar Khan, one of the greatest generals of the day, who held the territories of the Punjab, Samana and Multan. The left wing was assigned to the Sultan’s brothers, Ulugh Khan and Rukn Khan, while the Emperor, with Nusrat Khan, took charge of the centre with 12,000 young and brave horsemen and many fierce elephants. All the imperial officers were placed in suitable positions. Zafar Khan first attacked the enemy lines in front of him and overthrew them with the onslaught of his elephants and the blows of his sharp sword; then he fell on the lines that confronted his colleagues and broke them also. The Mughals fell dead in heaps in the forest and plain and reduced to helplessness, they took to flight. Zafar Khan pursued them for eighteen karohs. But Ulugh Khan, who commanded the left wing, was jealous of Zafar Khan and did not advance to support him. Seeing that Zafar Khan had gone forward alone and that no troops were advancing to his help, the Turkish leader of the Mughal left, who had formed an ambush in the way, suddenly came behind Zafar Khan and surrounded him on all sides. They wounded his horse, but Zafar Khan, though on foot, placed the arrows from his quiver on the ground and shot down a large number of the enemy. Kutlugh Khwaja sent him a message: “Come to me and I will raise you to a position greater than you enjoy.” But Zafar Khan did not heed it and kept on shooting his arrows. Kutlugh Khwaja tried to capture him alive, but that having proved impossible, he ordered arrows to be showered on Zafar Khan till he was martyred. The amirs of Zafar Khan’s army were also slain. Kutlugh Khwaja was so frightened by the Hindi attack that he did not draw his bridle till he had marched thirty karohs on that very day; then by continuous marches he moved on to his own country. Zafar Khan’s courage and generalship became proverbial among the Mughals, and if one horse refused to drink, they would remark that it had seen Zafar Khan. The Emperor, who was afraid of Zafar Khan, considered his martyrdom a second victory, and returned from Kili to the City, where he gave himself up to rejoicings and pleasures. Those who had behaved bravely in the battle were rewarded with robes of honour and promoted in the service, but an amir, who had fled to Delhi from the camp, was paraded through the streets of the City on an ass.’
To ‘Alauddin’s dislike of Zafar Khan, we may also attribute Khusrau’s omission of another struggle with the Mughals, which took place sometime before the invasion of Kutlugh Khwaja. ‘In the same year that Ulugh Khan and Nusrat Khan were sent to Gujrat, Zafar Khan was despatched against Siwistan (Sehwan), which had been captured by Saldi and his brother and other Mughals. Zafar Khan invested the fort of Siwistan with a large army and made a way into it with the blows of his axe, sword, javelin and spear. No maghribis, manjaniqs or ‘iradas were brought into action; no pashib or gargaj was constructed; and though the Mughals from within shot such a shower of arrows on all sides, that even the birds of the air could not go near the fort, yet Zafar Khan captured it with his sword and axe. Saldi and his brother and all the other Mughals with their women and children were sent in yokes and chains to Delhi. This exploit established Zafar Khan’s prestige in the public mind and ‘Alauddin began to look askance at his generalship and fearless courage, which showed that a second Rustam had appeared in Hindustan. Ulugh Khan, whose achievement (the conquest of Gujrat) had been surpassed, also concieved a hatred for Zafar Khan. This year Zafar Khan held the territory of Samana. ‘Alauddin, who was extremely jealous by nature, was thinking of getting rid of him in one of two ways—either by showering favours on him and sending him to Lakhnauti with several thousand horse, so that he may seize that territory and send the Sultan’s elephants and tribute from there, or by having him poisoned or blinded.’125a
Ferishta adds little to the above account. He calls the Mughal leader Chaldi and says that the Mughal captives sent to Delhi, apart from the women and children, numbered seventeen hundred.
‘No sooner had Sultan ‘Alauddin returned (from Chitor), than the Mughal danger arose once more. The Mughals in Mawaraun Nahr heard that Sultan ‘Alauddin had gone to lay siege to a distant fort and that there were no troops in Delhi. Targhi collected twelve tumans of horse and by forced marches reached Delhi before he was expected. In the same year, when ‘Alauddin had marched to Chitor, Malik Fakhruddin Jauna, the Dad-bek-i Hazrat and Malik Chajjū, nephew of Nusrat Khan and governor of Karra, had been sent to Arangal with the amirs and horse and foot of Hindustan. But when they reached Arangal, it began to rain in torrents, and harassed by the rainy season, the army of Hindustan could achieve nothing there. Towards the beginning of the winter, it returned to Hindustan, greatly reduced in numbers. It had lost all its baggage. The army of Sultan ‘Alauddin had also lost its baggage at the foot of the Chitor fort in the siege operations and the rain.
‘The Sultan had not been in Delhi for a month, no muster of the troops had been held and the material lost had not been replaced, when Targhi, all of a sudden, arrived with thirty or forty thousand horsemen and encamped on the bank of the Jumna. The people of the City, therefore, found their communications with the outside world cut off. The condition of Sultan ‘Alauddin’s army was pathetic. The Sultan, as explained above, did not get sufficient time to replace the horses and material he had lost at Chitor. Malik Fakhruddin Jauna returned to Hindustan after losing his army and its material in Warangal, and as the Mugals had so encamped as to close all the roads, no horse or foot from the army of Hindustan could reach the City. At Multan, Depalpur and Samana there was no force strong enough to break through the Mughal lines and join the Sultan at Siri. The army of Hindustan was summoned, but as the Mughals had captured all the fords, it was compelled to remain at Koil (Aligarh) and Barran (Bulandshahr).
‘Sultan ‘Alauddin, therefore, came out of the City with the few troops he had and encamped at Siri. He laid aside all thought of open battle and dug a trench round his camp; on the outer side of the trench he constructed a wooden defence of stakes made from the doors of the houses of Delhi in order to prevent the Mughals from breaking into his camp. He ordered the garrison to be watchful and awake; they were to keep an armed guard at the trenches, so that the Mughals may not be able to cross them, and five armed elephants were made to stand in the trench of every detachment. The Mughals swarmed round the camp and wished to make a sudden assault on the Sultan’s army. Never before had the Mughal danger been so great in Delhi as in this year, and if Targhi had remained for another month, there was a great likelihood that the Citizens, growing sick of the situation, would have submitted (to him). The Mughal danger weighed heavily on all hearts; no water, grass or wood could be brought to the City from outside; and the caravan routes of the corn merchants had been closed. The Mughal horsemen came to the Chautra-i Subhani, Muri and Kudhi; they often alighted on the embankment of the Royal (Shamsi) Tank, where they held their drinking parties, and sold the corn and provisions of ‘Alauddin’s stores at a very cheap rate. This prevented an excessive scarcity of corn in the City. Two or three skirmishes took place between the mounted foraging parties of the two armies, but neither side gained a decisive victory, Thank God! the accursed Targhi did not succeed in breaking into the Sultan’s camp and annihilating his army. After two months the prayers of the helpless (were heard by the Almighty) and Targhi collected his spoils and retired to his own land.
‘This deliverance of the City and the army of Islam from the Mughals appeared a strange thing to experienced men. The Mughals had come at the proper time and in sufficient numbers to capture the City; they had closed all roads for the entrance of soldiers and provisions; the Sultan’s army had no equipment and no reinforcements could reach it; and yet the Mughals were unable to overcome or prevail.’126a
Ferishta, who contents himself with summarising Barni, is pleased to add: ‘The Sultan, in his excessive anxiety, appealed to Shaikh Nizamuddin Aulia. That very night, it is said, Targhi, who had besieged Delhi for two months, was overpowered by a strange terror and retreated in haste—an action for which no material reasons can be found. The people of Delhi considered it to be the result of the Shaikh’s intervention and numbered it among his miracles.’ Targhi’s apparent success, it must not be forgotten, had been due to the rapidity of his movements. ‘Alauddin’s defence of Siri for two months must have given the amirs of the Doab and the Punjab time to collect their forces. It is difficult to explain the ‘strange terror’ that took possession of Targhi’s mind, but his communications were in danger and he may not have felt himself strong enough to meet the forces which were sure, sooner or later, to march for the relief of Delhi from all sides.
[The conversion of dates from the Hijra to the Christian Era is based on Cunningham’s Book of Indian Eras. Appendices C and D have been compiled by my friend, Mr. Saed Zaman, M.A.]
1. Accession of Jalaluddin Khilji—June, 1290.
2. Rebellion of Malik Chajju, battle of Kulaibnagar; Malik ‘Alauddin Khilji appointed Governor of Karra-Manikpur (Allahabad)—1291.
3. ‘Alauddin plunders Bhilsah—1294.
4. Malik ‘Alauddin marches to Deogir without the Sultan’s permission; Ram Deo’s submission; ‘Alauddin returns with the spoils—winter of 1295-96.
5. Assassination of Sultan Jalaluddin on the bank of the Ganges near Karra, July 19, 1296; ‘Alauddin is proclaimed Emperor and marches on Delhi—rainy season, 1296.
6. Ulugh Khan and Zafar sent to Multan; siege of Multan; Arkali Khan and Ruknuddin Ibrahim submit and are imprisoned—winter of 1296-97.
7. Invasion of Kadar; Ulugh Khan sent against the Mughals; Battle of Jaran Manjur, February 6, 1298.
8. Ulugh Khan and Nusrat Khan conquer Gujrat and Cambay; Bhim Deo is defeated and his harem captured; revolt of the ‘New Muslims’ while the army was returning—winter of 1299-1300.
9. Zafar Khan recaptures Siwistan (Sehwan); Saldi and his Mughals are brought captive to Delhi—winter of 1299-1300.
10. Invasion of Kuttugh Khwaja; battle of Kili—1300.
11. ‘Alauddin besieges Rantambhor—Summer of 1301; Akat Khan attempts to assassinate the Emperor at Tilpat; rebellions of ‘Umar and Mangu in Badaun and Oudh and of Haji Maula in Delhi; fall of Rantambhor—June 29, 1301. The rebellions during the siege led ‘Alauddin and his council to promulgate a series of administrative reforms for the suppression of rebellions, the better government of the country and the reorganization of the revenue system.
12. ‘Alauddin marches to Chitor and lays siege to the fort; fall of the fort— August 25, 1303.
13. Malik Fakhruddin Jauna is sent by way of Bengal to Arangal but returns to the Doab after losing his men and material—1303.
14. Targhi, the Mughal, marches from Mawaraun Nahr; Sultan ‘Alauddin entrenches his camp at Siri—winter of 1303-4. The retreat of Targhi was followed by the famous economic regulations, which kept prices stable and enabled ‘Alauddin to muster an army of 450,000. The forts on the route of the Mughals were repaired and garrisoned.
15. Invasion of Ali Beg, Tartaq and Targhi; battle of Amroha—December 30, 1305.
16. Conquest of Malwa; defeat of Kuka Pardhan; ‘Ainul Mulk Multani captures Mandu—November 24, 1305.
17. Invasions of Kapak, Iqbal and Tai Bu—probably the winter of 1306-7, but authorities differ and give no exact dates. (See note at the end of Chap. III.)
18. Campaign of Arangal—the army is absent from Delhi from December 31, 1309 to June 10, 1310; the Malik Naib reaches Deogir, December 28; Siege of Arangal commences, January 19, 1310; the Imperialists capture the outer fort of mud—February 6, 1310; Submission of Laddar Deo; the army starts from Arangal with its spoils—March 20, 1310.
19. ‘Alauddin starts for Siwana—June 10, 1310; fall of the fort, probably August 19, 1310.
20. Kamaluddin Gurg reduces Jalore—1310.
21. Campaign of Ma’abar and Dhur Samandar—the army is absent from Delhi from November 20, 1310 to October 30, 1311; Siege of Dhur Samandar (Dwara Samudra)—February 11 and 12, 1311.
22. The Malik Naib invades Deogir—probably winter of 1314 and 1315. Barni refers to this invasion, but no detailed record of it has been given by any of the Khilji historians.
23. Death of Sultan ‘Alauddin—February 3, 1315.
| First day of the Hijra Era | Corresponding date of the Christian Era | |||
| 696 | October | 30, 1296. | ||
| 697 | October | 19, 1297. | ||
| 698 | October | 9, 1298. | ||
| 699 | September 28, 1299. | |||
| 700 | September 16, 1300. | |||
| 701 | September | 6, 1301. | ||
| 702 | August | 26, 1302. | ||
| 703 | August | 15, 1303. | ||
| 704 | August | 4, 1304. | ||
| 705 | July | 24, 1305. | ||
| 706 | July | 13, 1306. | ||
| 707 | July | 3, 1307. | ||
| 708 | June | 21, 1308. | ||
| 709 | June | 11, 1309. | ||
| 710 | May | 31, 1310. | ||
| 711 | May | 20, 1311. | ||
| Hijra Era | Christian Era | |||
| 19th | Rabi II | 695. | February | 25, 1296. |
| 28th | Rajab | 695. | May | 4, 1296. |
| 16th | Ramazan | 695. | July | 19, 1296. |
| 22nd | Zil Hijjah | 695. | October | 23, 1296. |
| 22nd | Rabi II | 697. | February | 6, 1298. |
| 20th | Jamadi I | 699. | February | 10, 1300. |
| 3rd | Zi-qa‘d | 700. | June | 29, 1301. |
| 11th | Muharram | 703. | August | 25, 1303. |
| 5th | Jamadi I | 705. | November | 24, 1305. |
| 12th | Jamadi II | 705. | December | 30, 1305. |
| 19th | Ramazan | 706. | March | 24, 1307. |
| 25th | Jamadi I | 709. | October | 31, 1309. |
| 19th | Jamadi II | 709. | November | 24, 1309. |
| 26th | Rajab | 709. | December | 30, 1309. |
| 16th | Sha‘ban | 709. | January | 20, 1310. |
| 11th | Muharram | 710. | June | 10, 1310. |
| 26th | Jamadi II | 710. | November | 20, 1310. |
| 13th | Ramazan | 710. | February | 3, 1311. |
| 17th | Ramazan | 710. | February | 7, 1311. |
| 23rd | Ramazan | 710. | February | 13, 1311. |
| 5th | Zi-qa‘d | 710. | March | 26, 1311. |
| 11th | Zi-qa‘d | 710. | April | 1, 1311. |
| 15th | Zi-qa‘d | 710. | April | 5, 1311. |
| 4th | Zil Hijjah | 710. | April | 24, 1311. |
| 14th | Jamadi II | 711. | October | 30, 1311. |
viii, ix, x, xi, xii, xiii, xiv, xx, xxii, xxiii, xxxvii, xxxix, 1, 2n, 3n, 6n, 10n, 12n, 13n, 14n, 15n, 17n, 18n, 20n, 24n, 28n, 31n, 33, 34, 36n, 37, 38, 39n, 40n, 42n, 48n, 49n, 50n, 51n, 55n, 56n, 61n, 73n, 110—ascends the throne, 6; distributes treasures and horses, 9; reduction of tax on shop-keepers, appointment of the Ra’īs and inspectors of the market, 9-10; prohibition of adultery and drink, 10-11; massacre of magicians, 11, and of the ‘fraternity of incest’ (aṣḥāb-i Abāḥat); cheapness of corn and establishment of granaries, 12-13; establishment of the ‘Place of Justice’ (Serā-i ‘Adl), 13; buildings and public works, 14-20; campaigns against the Mugẖals, 21-24; Kadar’s invasion, 23; invasion of ‘Alī Beg, Tartāq and Targẖī, 26; invasion of Kapak, 29, and of Iqbāl and Mudābīr, 30; note on the invasions of Kapak, Iqbāl and Tāī Bū (or Tāībū), 32; invasion of Kutlugẖ Khwāja, Saldī and Targẖi, 120-126; invasion of Gujrāt, 35; siege of Rantambhor, 37; invasion of Māndū and Mālwa, 42; conquest of Chitor, 47; second conquest of Deogīr, 51; conquest of Siwāna, 53; campaign of Arangal, 56-80; campaign of Ma‘bar, 80-111; account of the Deccan expeditions in Khusrau’s Dawal Rānī, 112-113; in Ẓīāuddīn Barnī’s Tārikhi Feroz Shāhī, 113-118; and in Ferishta 118-120; see also Introduction, pp. xviii-xxxix
Dīwān-ī Riyāsat (or Rīāsat), 9n
Published with marginal explanations by Newal Kishore Press, Lucknow.
↩One of the letters has been translated in Elliot and Dowson. There are others of equal and greater value.
↩Alluding to the First Alexander’s efforts to discover the water of immortality.
↩Wine and sugar may be both produced from the same grapes and the addition of salt turns wine into vinegar.
↩The same fate has overtaken other medieval histories, for example the first volume of Baihaqi, the Autobiography of Mohammad bin Tughlaq and the last chapter of Afif’s Tarikh-i-Firoz-Shahi, which was a violent attack on Timur and is found torn or missing in most volumes.
↩In the first invasion, the Mongols were led by Kutlugh Khwaja and in the second by Targhi. Barni, who is brief and hasty in his account of wars, gives a detailed account of the two sieges of Delhi, probably because Kabīruddīn and Amīr Khusrau had preferred to be silent about them.
↩Barni, our standard historian for the period, is very parsimonious and incorrect in dates.
↩Allusions to victories.
↩The Qurān, chap. iii, sect. 13; refers to a famous battle of the Prophet.
↩Persian doxologies are usually very florid and the Khazā‘īnul Futūḥ is no exception. I have omitted a few sentences from this paragraph. It does not come within the scope of these notes to explain intricate literary allusions, which have no historical significance.
↩Allusions to authorship.
↩Allusions to prose and verse.
↩i.e., the throne of Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn. He is referred to under the names of past monarchs at various places in the book. For the mysterious beings called jins see the Qurān, chap. lxxii, and for the story of Solomon and the Ant, chap. xxvii, sect. 2.
↩‘Poetry was Amīr Khusrau’s mother tongue; prose he wrote with great difficulty and effort.’
↩Allusions to water.
↩‘Alāuddīn, as Barnī tells us, had assumed the title of the ‘Second Alexander’; it is found in his inscriptions and on his coins.
↩Allusions to the mirror.
↩The mirror of the First Alexander was supposed to have been made by Aristotle and placed on the top of a tower constructed at Alexandria.
↩Allusions to the word of God.
↩Title of chap. lvii of the Qurān.
↩Allusions to the Caliphs of Islām. The first Caliph, Abū Bakr, was reputed for his truthfulness; the second, Umar, for his stern justice; the third, ‘Uṯmān, collected the chapters of the Qurān; and the fourth, ‘Alī, was famous for his learning and courage.
↩The Abbāsīde Caliphate had been crushed by the Mongol barbarians. Baghdād itself had been sacked by Halāku Khān in A.D. 1258 and the sole surviving scion of the dynasty of Hārūnur Rashīd had fled for refuge to Egypt.
↩Muslim marriages required the presence and the certificate of the Qāzī or State law-officer. The Dīwān-i-Quzā was the Imperial Department of Justice, presided over by the Sadrus Sudūr or the Head Qāzī of Delhī.
↩Allusions to the spring.
↩A play on the word ‘bahār’, which means spring and is written in the same way as Bihār.
↩i.e., became Sulṭān of Delhī. The Sulṭān was styled the ‘Shadow of God’ (Zilullah).
↩A fortified village. The medieval Karra is near the modern Allahabad.
↩A fragrant yellow flower. For an account of ‘Alāuddīn’s Deogīr expedition, see Appendix A.
↩Najibs.
↩Allusions to history and books.
↩‘Alāuddīn was appointed governor of Karra-Mānikpūr (Allahabad) after the suppression of Malik Chajjū’s rebellion in the second year of Jalāluddīn’s reign. He distinguished himself by ravaging Chanderī, and then without Jalāluddīn’s permission, he marched to Deogīr and plundered it. Rāī Rām Deo had to pay an enormous indemnity but was left in possession of his lands. On returning to Karra, ‘Alāuddīn succeeded in prevailing on the Sulṭān, who was his uncle and father-in-law, to come to see him unattended, and had him murdered during the interview on the 16th Ramazān, A.H. 695 (Wednesday, July 17, 1296). Apart from the Deogīr exploit, these events were not creditable to ‘Alāuddīn, and Amīr Khusrau, who was deeply attached to the murdered Sulṭān, has not attempted to justify them. For more details, see Barnī and Ferishsta.
↩Allusions to the history of Moses.
↩Jethro, the father-in-law of Moses. The quotations from the Qurān in this paragraph refer to Moses’ conversation with God.
↩Alf Khān or Ulugh Khān was the title of ‘Alāuddīn’s younger brother, Ilmās Beg. It was Ilmās Beg’s duplicity that induced Jalāluddīn to come to ‘Alāuddīn’s camp without his army.
↩A weight of forty uqiyats (ounces) of gold. Here used in the general sense of ox-loads and bags.
↩After Sultān Jalāluddīn’s assassination, his youngest son, Ruknuddīn Ibrāhīm, was placed on the throne by Jalāluddīn’s widow, the Malka-i-Jahān. But ‘Alāuddīn won over the people and organized his army by a liberal distribution of the treasure he had obtained at Deogīr; and the Malka-i-Jahān and Ruknuddīn fled away to Multān as soon as ‘Alāuddīn’s army crossed the Jamna and encamped at Sīrī.
↩The City (Shahr) in the language of those days always meant Delhī. Other cities were called by their names. A certain sanctity was attached to the capital of the country, and it was referred to with respect.
↩Allusions to the dignities of States.
↩In spite of his dazzling conquests, it was as an administrator that ‘Alāuddīn excelled. Amīr Khusrau’s florid rhetoric simply comes to this: it is much better giving good government to your own subjects than to conquer foreign lands, which you may or may not be able to retain. ‘One can do anything with bayonets except sit upon them.’ It is to be regretted that in spite of his sensible views, the author should have given us such a scanty account of ‘Alāuddīn’s administrative and economic measures.
↩Allusions to stars.
↩The Qurān, chap. iv, sect. 12. The full extract will make the meaning clearer.
‘If they (the non-Muslims) withdraw from you and do not fight you and offer you peace, then Allāh has not given you a way against them… If they do not withdraw from you and (do not) offer you peace and restrain their hands, then seize them and kill them wherever you find them; and against these we have given you a clear authority.’
↩i.e. the Sulṭān.
↩Tanka, the ancestor of the modern rupee, was the silver and gold coin of the Empire of Delhī. The copper coin was called jītal.
↩Allusions to gold and balances of gold.
↩Allusions to horses, swift as the wind.
↩i. e. the Emperor.
↩Allusions to government (riyāsat) and shop-keepers. The shop-keepers were controlled by the Dīwān-i-Riyāsat or Ministry of Markets. For the working of the Dīwān-i-Riyāsat under the harsh but efficient Yaqūb Nāzir, see Barnī, pages 315-17, (Persian text published by the Bengal Asiatic Society and edited by Sir Syed Ahmed Khān.)
↩i.e. weights used by shop-keepers.
↩Allusions to the traditions of justice and equity.
↩i.e. the Emperor’s justice surpasses description.
↩Referring to the chaudharīs, Khots and muqaddams whose power ‘Alāuddīn had overthrown. They had started as village headmen but aspired to transform themselves into landlords and claimed the ownership of their villages. ‘Alāuddīn’s reforms deprived them of their perquisites and reduced them to the position of tenants.
↩Allusions to virtue and vice.
↩Wine and sugar may be both produced from the same grapes, and the addition of salt turns wine into vinegar.
↩The regulations for the prohibition of intoxicants are mentioned by Barnī, but he says nothing about the compulsory marriages of prostitutes. It is likely that brothels were closed along with taverns and gambling dens.
↩Allusions to peace and order.
↩Apparently, in order to steal the winding-sheet.
↩Allusions to man-eating magicians.
↩The punishment of magicians, stoned after being half buried, has not been described by Barnī, but it is only too probable considering the universal belief in magic and the atrocious punishments inflicted on those who were supposed to dabble in anything dark and mysterious. ‘No one in ‘Alāuddīn’s days,’ Barnī tells us, ‘had the courage to profess a knowledge of alchemy or magic from fear of the Emperor.’
↩Allusions to incest and punishment.
↩This is confirmed by Barnī. ‘In those years,’ he says, ‘people who committed incest and libertines appeared in the City. By the Sulṭān’s orders they were found out after a careful and diligent search and were put to death with tortures. The saw of punishment was drawn over their heads and they were cut into two. After this punishment the name of incest did not come to anyone’s lips in the City.’ By the ‘fraternity of incest’ is meant the Carmathians, Ismailes and other Shia ‘heretics’ of the sect of Seven Imams, whom the ‘orthodox’ Sunnis accused of permitting marriages within prohibited degrees and of practising incest in their secret assemblies. The charge, whether right or wrong, was generally believed. The Carmathians had captured Multān a century before Maḥmūd of Ghaznī and made their existence felt again and again in the succeeding centuries.
↩The fourth part of a misqāl; a trifling weight.
↩Allusions to seasons, corn and its rates.
↩‘‘Alāuddīn used to take royal dues from the peasants of the Doab in kind. The corn was stored in the royal granaries and brought to the market in times of famine and sold at the tariff rates.’ The economic and administrative regulations of Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn are described by Barnī in detail.
↩Out of respect for the Emperor, apparently.
↩Barnī calls it the Serā-i ‘Adl. It was constructed on the plain before the Badāūn Gate, and placed under the supervision of the Rāīs-i-Parwāna (Supervisor of the Cloth Market). Barnī gives the tariff and the detailed regulations of the cloth market.
↩Allusions to opening and closing.
↩The prices in the Serā-i ‘Adl, owing to the subsidy granted by ‘Alāuddīn to the Multāni merchants, were lower than in other towns. Cloth once brought to it was not allowed to be taken out again; nor could cloth be sold anywhere else in Delhī except the Serā-i ‘Adl.
↩The phrases added after the names of the cloths are a play upon the names of the cloths, which it would not be worth while explaining in English.
↩Allusions to fruits, ripe and sweet.
↩Barnī does not speak of fruits being sold in the Serā-i ‘Adl, but it is quite possible that a part of the market was allotted to fruit shops. ‘Alāuddīn was very particular about the maintenance of order in the markets and no disturbance was permitted.
↩Allusions to building.
↩The Quṭub Mosque, of which the Quṭub Mīnār is a part, is known by various names. ‘In histories’, Sir Syed Ahmad Khān says in the famous Asārus Sanādīd, ‘I have always seen this mosque referred to as the ‘Masjid-i-Adana-i-Delhi’ or the ‘Masjid-i Jama-i Delhi’ but never as the ‘Masjid-i Quwwatul Islam’. It is not known when the name of ‘Quwwatul Islam’ was given to it but it might have obtained this name when the temple was conquered and the mosque was built. Such mosques are seldom known to the public by their real names but only by the general designation of Jama-i Masjid.
↩Allusions to the mosque and the Mīnār.
↩The following extracts from the Asārus Sanādīd of Sir Syed Ahmad Khān will enable the reader to attach a meaning to Khusrau’s florid narrative.
‘The Incomplete Mīnār:—The Emperor ‘Alāuddīn was very desirous of fame. Consequently when he ordered the extension of the (Quṭub) Mosque in A.H. 711 (A.D. 1311), he also commanded a new Mīnār (tower) to be built in the courtyard of the mosque, twice the size of the old (Quṭub) Mīnār. The new Mīnār had a circumference of one hundred yards and its foundations were laid in the Muslim fashion—i.e., with a platform and the first door opening on the western side. It was proposed to build the new Mīnār 200 yards high. But though the Emperor had laid its foundations firmly, his own life was less secure; even the first storey had not been finished when he died and the wonderful structure was left incomplete. Some parts of the incomplete Mīnār have fallen down; only a mass of stones and lime is left.
‘The Large Gate near the Quṭub Mīnār:—When Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn became Emperor and developed an ambition for public works, he built an enormous gate for this mosque near the Quṭub Mīnār in A.H. 710 (A.D. 1311). This gate is almost wholly of red sand stone, although here and there marble has been used. On the four sides of the large gate he constructed four smaller gates, and on the western, southern, and eastern gates he has put inscriptions with his name on them. But many of the inscribed stones have fallen down and rain has eaten into many letters. The roof of the gate consists of a heavy dome. Everywhere there is fine inlaid and mosaic work, and ‘traditions’ and verses from the Qurān have been inscribed.
‘The Court of (the Quṭub Mosque):—After the gate was finished, the Emperor ordered a fourth court (darja) to be added to the mosque. The court in the centre had been constructed by Sulṭān Mu‘izzuddīn, and the two courts on either side of it by Sulṭān Shamsuddīn. ‘Alāuddīn’s court was 115 yards long, counting three feet to the yard; the foundations of nine doors had been laid and the central door was sixteen yards. In A.H. 711 (A.D. 1311) the court was being built; but unfortunately the Emperor died in A.H. 715 (A.D. 1315) and the mosque was left incomplete. If the edifice had been completed, the whole mosque would have measured 241 yards in length from east to west, and 132 yards in breadth from north to south. On the northern side the Emperor began the construction of a door, but that, too, was left unfinished. There was fine mosaic work on all these incomplete buildings, and texts and “traditions” had been inscribed. It is not known who removed these (inscribed) stones but it is clear that they have been removed. Nothing is now left except (plain) stones and lime’.
↩In allusion to Farhād, the lover of Shīrīn, who perforated a huge mountain to please his mistress.
↩Only the ruined palaces of the old rāīs or temples that had ceased to be places of worship and had fallen down, were touched. A temple used as a place of worship was inviolable by the Imperial Law.
↩i.e. Satan. A farsang, roughly speaking, is a distance of three to three and a half miles.
↩The Muslim practice is to perform ablutions (wazu) with water before prayer; but when water is not available, sand or dry earth can be used, and the ablution is then known as the tayamum.
↩Referring to the famous wall which Sikandar Zulqarnain (probably Darius I of Persia) constructed to keep off Gog and Magog (The Qurān, chap. xviii, sect. 2.)
↩Allusions to the buildings of the fort.
↩‘Alāuddīn had ordered all taverns and gambling dens of Delhi to be closed.
↩‘The ‘Alāī Delhi, or ‘Alāī Fort or Koshak-i Sīrī:—This fort was built by Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn Khiljī. When in A.H. 703 (A.D. 1303) the Emperor marched against Chitor in person and at the same time sent a large force against Warangal in Telingāna, Targẖī and the Mugẖals came and laid siege to Delhī, expecting to find it empty. But after many battles the Emperor was victorious. Afterwards he built this fort. A village, called Srī, existed here at that time; consequently, the fort was also known as the fort of Sīrī. In Sher Shāh’s time it was called the “Koshak-i Sīrī”. The fort, as built by ‘Alāuddīn, was circular, with strongly built walls of stone, brick and lime, and had seven gates. Before the fort was completed, another battle with the Mugẖals took place, and eight thousand Mugẖal heads were used in place of stones in building the walls of the fort. Though the fort has quite crumbled down, yet some traces of it are found on the left hand side when going to the Quṭub Mīnār. In A. H. 96 Sher Shāh pulled down the fort of Sīrī and built a new city near Old Delhī (i.e., Indarpat). A village, named Sháhabad, exists at the place now.’ (Asārus Sanādīd.)
↩Allusions to buildings.
↩A king of the Peshādian dynasty, proverbial for his cruelty. He had two snakes growing out of his shoulders whom he fed on human beings.
↩Allusions to buildings again.
↩Allusions to the tank, clear and moist.
↩A play on the name of the Emperor Shamsuddīn (Sun of Faith).
↩i.e. ‘Alāuddīn.
↩Cousin of the Prophet Moses. He is believed to be constantly sinking down and down, into the earth, along with all his treasures, in punishment of his niggardliness and greed.
↩Allusions to the story of Moses.
↩Because given to hoarding.
↩‘The Hauz-i Shamsī’—‘This tank was built by Sulṭān Shamsuddīn sometime about A.H. 627 (A.D. 1229) in the neighbourhood of Quṭub Sahib. It is said that the tank was constructed of red stone, but now it is quite broken and only a lake is left. This lake is 276 pukhta bighas in area. What, then, must have been the extent of the tank when it was in good repair? In A.H. 711 as it had been filled up with mud, Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn had it dredged; and exactly in its centre he constructed a platform over which he built a very beautiful dome (burjī). This dome exists till to-day. Firoz Shah, too, repaired the tank in his reign and cleared the passages by which the water used to come. But now the tank has been nearly filled up with earth, and water does not remain in it for more than three or four months’ (Asārus Sanādīd).
↩Allusions to territories and forts.
The Mugẖals or Mongols, who are the heroes of this chapter, require some introduction. They were first brought into prominence by Chengiz Khan in the beginning of the thirteenth century. The early life of Chengiz was spent in a protracted struggle against the surrounding tribes, but he emerged victorious through a combination of craft and guile, brutal strength and constructive statesmanship. His election as ‘Khan’ of the Mongolian tribes was followed by a reorganization of his people as the most efficient fighting machine in the world, organized on a system of universal conscription and blind obedience to orders. Chengiz first invaded China and then attacked the Khwarazmian Empire with an army of 800,000. No power in the Muslim world was able to withstand him. City after city fell before the barbarians, and Sultan Alauddin Mohammed Khwarazm Shah died in one of the islands of the Caspian to which he had fled for refuge. Chengiz retired to his own country from the eastern bank of the Indus, but the empire he had founded persisted for three generations, and was a terror to all mankind.
Chengiz Khan had four sons. Juji (or Tushi), the eldest, died in the life-time of his father, but Juji’s son, Batu, conquered Southern Russia, Bulgaria and part of Poland and founded his dynasty there. Ogtai, the eldest surviving son, succeeded Chengiz as ‘Khan,’ ‘Qa-an’ or ‘Khaqan.’ Chaghtai and Tului were given domains under the suzerainty of their brother. Ogtai was succeeded by his son, Kayuk (or Kapak), but after Kayuk’s short reign, the unity of the empire disappeared. The quiriltai or assembly of Mongol princes, representing the majority, elected Mangu, son of Tului, to the ‘Khakanship’ in 1251, but Qaidu Khan, supported by the descendants of Chaghtai and Ogtai, established himself in Mawaraun Nahr and maintained his independence till his death in 1301. In spite of this rift in the lute, the quiriltai of 1251 launched two important expeditions. Kublai, brother of Mangu (the ‘Kubla Khan’ of Coleridge), was sent against China, while his younger brother, Halaku Khan, was despatched against the ‘heretics’ (Ismailes) of Persia. Halaku first captured the forts of the ‘heretics’ and then proceeded to overthrow the Caliph of the orthodox. Baghdad was captured and sacked in 1258 and Halaku’s descendants, known as the ‘I-1 Khan’s,’ while acknowledging the formal superiority of the ‘Khakan,’ continued to govern Persia in practical independence during the thirteenth century. Meanwhile in the east Mangu was succeeded by Qublai, who completed the conquest of the Chinese empire.
The early successes of the Mongols had been due to the strength of their military organization, the genius of their leaders and the hardships, which the rank and file were prepared to bear. A generation of civilization sufficed to degenerate them. The I-1 Khans of Persia became Mussalmans and adopted Persian ways. The successors of Qublai were driven pell-mell out of China to their barbaric land and its barbaric ways.
Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn’s contemporaries among the ‘I-l Khans’ were—Ghazan Khan son of Arghun Khan son of Abaka Khan son of Halaku Khan, who ruled from A.H. 694 to 703 and Ghazan’s brother, Khuda Bandah Aljaitu Sultan, who ruled from A.H. 703 to 716. While the ruling dynasty had accepted Islam, many soldiers and officers adhered to their old faith. But whether Mussalman or infidel, the Mongols had not forsaken their old plundering habits and their taste for bloodshed, as the career of Timur conclusively shows.
A detailed account of the Mongols will be found in Sir Henry Howorth’s History of the Mongols, 4 vols. a monument of careful and painstaking scholarship. Sir Henry has depended mostly on translations and has, therefore, not been able to give as graphic an account of the character of the Mongols and their social system as some of the early Persian writers. The earliest account of the Mongols seems to be the Tabaqaṭ-iNasiri of Minhajus Siraj Jurjani of Delhī. The author had a first-hand knowledge of the Chengizi Mongols, against whom he had fought, and regarded them with a bitter hatred. Writing at a safe distance from the barbarians, Qazi Minhajus Siraj had no hesitation in abusing the ‘Mughal infidels,’ and the thirteenth chapter (tabaqah) of his work, devoted to the ‘Rise of the Mongols’, reads like a thrilling short story. The military superiority of Chengiz Khan had convinced the learned Qazi that the Day of Judgment was near and he quotes chapter and verse to prove this. Some chapters (including the thirteenth) of the Tabaqaṭ-iNasiri have been printed by the Royal Asiatic Society of Bengal and the inestimable Col. Raverty devoted twelve years to translating it into English. The most reliable history of the Mongols is the Tarikh-iJahan Gusha of ‘Alaūddīn Ata Malik Juwayni, who compiled his work in the time of Halaku Khan. The first two volumes of Juwayni book, comprising an account of the Khwarazmians and Mongols, have been excellently edited for the Gibb’s Memorial Series by Mr. Mohammad ibn-i ‘Abdul Wahhab Qazwini. A later work, the Jami‘ut Tawarikh of Rashiduddin, who wrote in the time of Aljaitu sultan, incorporates much fresh information and continues the history of Chengiz Khan’s successors. The first volume of the Jami‘ut Tawarikh is said to have been printed in Russia; the second volume on the ‘Successors of Chengiz Khan’ has been edited by Mr. Blochet for the Gibb’s Memorial Series. Three other Persian histories may here be mentioned—the Tarikh of Wassaf, who was a contemporary of Rashiduddin, the Tarikh-iGuzidah of Hamdullah Mustawfi and the Rauzatus Safa of Mohammad ibn-i Khawind Shah. All these writers rely mostly on the Tarikh-i-Jahan Gusha and the Jami‘ut Tawarikh.
The word Mongol requires some explanation. Early writers generally say ‘Maghūl,’ but in later writers the Waw is dropped. The ‘n’ of ‘Mongol’ is not found in Persian writers. Still it is convenient to apply the word ‘Mongol’ to Chengiz Khan and his successors and reserve the word ‘Mughal’ for the Indian Emperors of the House of Babar, who though belonging to the same race, represented a different culture and civilization. But where the Persian text says ‘Mughal,’ I have kept that word.
↩Allusions to war and victory.
↩‘This is the order observed in the original.’ (Elliot.)
↩‘The word talwarah is a common name for a village in many parts of the Upper Punjab. The talaundi of the Khakars is a local word similarly applied.’ (Elliot.)
↩The three preceding sentences have been adapted from Elliot. Qusur also means buildings.
↩Allusions to the arm.
↩Allusions to weapons.
↩A famous Persian archer.
↩Or in the alternative, shooting arrows.
↩Allusions to battle and slaughter.
↩A kind of water fowl, the anas casarca; or, in the alternative, ‘red water’.
↩i.e. the journey beyond the grave.
↩The Qurān, chapter lxix, in allusion to the punishments of the Day of Judgment.
↩Allusions to war and festivities.
↩Why Qaidu?
It is to be regretted that while Indian historians supply us with sufficient information to enable us to piece together a complete account of the Mongol invasions of India in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the Persian writers referred to in a preceding note, give us the vaguest information on the subject or else ignore it completely. Of course a raid on Indian territory led by a general of secondary importance was an insignificant matter for the historian of an empire extending from Peking to Moscow. But there was also another reason for their silence.
Ziauddin Barnī throughout speaks of the Mongols coming from Mawaraun Nahr. He says that Kūtlugh Khwaja, who besieged Delhī in the fourth year of ‘Alāuddīn’s reign, was a son of Quda, king of Mawaraun Nahr, and Targhi, who was present in that as well as later campaigns, is first brought into prominence as a general of Kūtlugh Khwaja. Quda is probably a misreading for Qaidu. We have seen that in the quirillāi of 1251 the Chaghtai and Ogtai princes refused to acknowledge the ‘Khakanship’ of Mangu and set up an independent kingship under Qaidu in Mawaraun Nahr and Turkestan. This division of Mongol power saved the kingdom of Delhī, which could not have withstood a united attack of the Mongols. The I-l Khans of Persia naturally paid homage to Mangu and his successors, who like them were descendants of Tului, but they were constantly at war with the Mameluks of Egypt in Syria, and, more often than not, had the worse of it. It is the Chaghtai and Ogtai princes of Mawaraun Nahr who are responsible for the invasions described in this chapter. They were being hard-pressed by the ‘Khakan’ in the west and by ‘I-1 Khans’ in the east and this naturally made them anxious to carve out principalities for themselves elsewhere. An account of the fortunes of the House of Qaidu will be found in Howorth, vol. i, pp. 173-82, but Persian writers, as a rule, have confined themselves to an account of the ‘Khaqans’ and ‘I-l Khans’, in whose eyes Qaidu was a rebel.
↩A famous Emperor of Persia and master of the hero, Rustam. He had a cup or mirror in which he could see all that was happening in the world.
↩The Qurān, chap. xiv, sect. 2.
↩i.e. Ulugẖ Khān and Zafar Khān.
↩The battle is referred to by Barnī and Ferishta, though they do not give detailed accounts:—
‘In the same year, A.H. 696 the Mugẖal danger arose. Some Mugẖals crossed the Sindh (Indus) and came into the country. Ulugẖ Khān and Zafar Khān with the Jalalī and ‘Alāī amīrs and a large army were sent against them. The army of Islam gave the accursed foe battle within the boundaries of Jālandar. The Muslim banner was victorious. Many Mugẖals were captured and killed and their heads were brought to Delhi (Barnī).
‘In the same year Dāwā Khān, the ruler of Mawarāun Nahr, sent some hundred thousand Mugẖals to Hindustān with the object of conquering the provinces of Punjāb, Multān and Sindh. The Mugẖals crossed the river Sindh and left nothing undone in the way of spoliation, plunder and destruction. When this news was brought to the Emperor, he sent Ilmās Bēg, Ulugẖ Khān and Hizhabruddīn Zafar Khān with an enormous army to suppress them. The two armies met each other within the confines of Lahore; a fearful battle took place and the Mugẖals were defeated. Some twelve thousand Mugẖals were put to the sword; many of their leading Amīrs were captured and put to death with tortures. Ulugẖ Khān sent the heads of the Mugẖals to Delhī along with their wives and children.’ (Ferishta).
Lahore could not have been the seat of battle, which according to Amīr Khusrau took place by the side of the Sutlej. In the Dawal Rānī, Amīr Khusrau calls the place ‘Manjūr-i-jāran,’ the name being twisted to suit the rhyme. The ‘Qar Maikhūr’ of Tabaqāt-iAkbarī is apparently a misreading for ‘Jāran Manjūr.’ I am inclined to agree with Barnī, or rather his editor, in identifying Jāran Manjūr with Jalandhar.
↩Allusions to war and holy war.
↩Used in a restricted sense, meaning Oudh and the Doab only.
↩The Qurān, chap. xxxiii, sect. 2.
↩Allusions to chess. The English names of the pieces differ considerably from the Persian. I have put the equivalents in brackets.
↩i.e. the Mugẖal horsemen were unhorsed and then killed.
↩Allusions to the game of nard. An account of the game will be found in the Ain-iAkbari of Abul Fazl.
↩In allusion to the colour of the Mugẖals and the pieces in the game of nard.
↩i.e. ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq.
↩During the eight years, A.H. 697 to 705 Delhī was twice besieged, first by Kutlugẖ Khwāja and then by Targẖī. Amīr Khusrau was not ignorant of these events; he refers to Kutlugẖ Khwāja and Targẖi in the Dawal Rānī and he speaks in the above passage of Targẖi’s previous experience of India. But respect for ‘Alāuddīn’s dignity required an omission of the two most important Mugẖal campaigns.
This campaign is described by most historians. ‘On one occasion’ says Barnī, ‘‘Alī Beg and Tartāq were the leaders of the Mugẖal army. They were famous men and ‘Alī Beg was reputed to be a descendant of the accursed Chengīz. Skirting the mountains, they reached the territory of Amroha with thirty or forty thousand men. Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn sent Malik Nāīk, the Akhūr Beg, with the Muslim army against them. The two forces came to battle within the confines of Amroha and God gave victory to the army of Islām. ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq were both captured alive. The larger part of the Mugẖal army was put to the sword, scattered and dispersed. The slain Mugẖals were piled up on the field of battle like stacks of corn. Ropes were fastened round the necks of ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq and they were brought before the Sulṭān with many other Mugẖal prisoners. Twenty thousand horses belonging to the Mugẖals were brought before the Court. A magnificent darbar was prepared at the Chautra-iSubḥānī. The Sulṭān sat in public audience and the army stood in a double row from the royal seat to Indarpat. Owing to the enormous multitude, the price of a cup of water rose to twenty jītals or half-a-tanka. Through such a crowd, ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq, together with other Mugẖals and their baggage, were taken to the throne. The captive Mugẖals were cast under the feet of elephants. And stream of blood did flow’.
The commander of the army of Islām, on this occasion, was a Hindu. The Mir‘at-i Sikandarī says that Nāīks are a tribe of outcaste Rājpūts. Be this as it may, the surname ‘Naik’ is common enough to-day. The following lines from Khusrau’s Dawal Rānī leave no doubt as to Malik Nāīk’s religion. ‘As he (Targẖī) wished to injure the Faith through his infidels, Fate decreed that he should meet his death at the hands of an infidel (Hindū). The soil of the wilderness drank the blood of the armies of ‘Alī Beg and Tartāq when the two Turkish Khāns were suddenly captured by a Hindū slave (servant) of the Court and the conflagration was quelled by the sharpness of the Imperial sword.’
Nizāmuddīn contents himself with summarising Barnī. Ferishta has Tarqāl Khwāja for Tartāq, and says that the Muslim army was commanded by Malik Mānik (an obvious misreading for Malik Nāīk) and Ghazī Malik Tugẖlaq. ‘The Sultan’, he adds, ‘distributed the captured horses equally among the amīrs and ordered the eight thousand Mugẖal heads, which had been brought, to be used instead of stones and bricks for the towers of Sīrī, which were then being built.’
↩Or Kabak. Kabīk in ‘Tabaqāt-i-Akbarī’; Kank in Ferishta. Barnī says Kapak. A tuman usually consisted of ten thousand horse.
↩Allusions to smells.
↩Winter or the first month of it, December.
↩Allusions to water.
↩Ferishta says Nilab; Barnī and Nizamuddin say the battle took place at Khakar. According to the Dawal Rani, ‘the Mugẖals crossed the territory of Multan and began to ravage the land of the Ravi.’ This seems more accurate. I am inclined to believe that the advance guard under Kapak first came to Multan and then marched up the river Ravi which in those days flowed near Multan. After the defeat of Kapak on the bank of the Ravi, the Mugẖal contingents of Iqbal and Tāī Bū tried to fly away across the same ford of the Indus. Khusrau gives no dates for this invasion and his geographical references are perplexing.
↩i.e. Iqbāl, the coward.
↩Allusions to parts of the human body.
↩i.e. Malik Kāfūr.
↩Alluding to the Mugẖal loss of morale. The ‘heads’ would be the leaders, Iqbāl and Tāī Bū, the ‘hands’ and ‘feet’ would be the officers and men.
↩Allusions to the day of judgment. The quotations following are from the Qurān.
↩Malik Kāfūr. Iqbal is here said to have been captured among the amīrs of Tāī Bū’s tumān, but according to Khusrau’s previous statement he had been captured in the battle on the bank of the Ravi.
↩i.e., ‘Alāuddīn.
↩Allusions to buildings.
↩Or, in the alternative, ‘Zangis,’ a Turkish tribe. Khusrau calls the Mongols by various names—Tatars, Turks, Chinese and Mugẖals. This is not really inaccurate, for they are all sections of the same Mongolian race and the Mongols freely enlisted their kindred tribes in their armies. The Mongols, who have given their name to the whole race, seem to have been a minor tribe in the days before Chengiz Khan. The fort referred to is the Hazar Sutun Palace or Koshak-i Siri.
↩Allusions to stars.
↩Allusions to sea and rain.
↩Minister of War. The office was then held by Hizhabruddīn Zafar Khān.
↩Apparently Anhilwāra, the capital of Gujrāt, is meant. It is now known as Pattan.
↩Khān-i Aẓam and Ulugẖ Khān both mean the first Khān of the Kingdom. It was equivalent to the later title of ‘Khān-i Khānān’.
↩Allusions to circle and centre.
↩Obviously referring to the custom of Mussalmāns praying at Hindū shrines. Muslim pilgrims to Mecca, it seems, used to visit Somnāth on their way. It was a great seaport and the place from which the pilgrims embarked on their voyage. Somnāth had been destroyed by Maḥmūd, but like many other temples it had been rebuilt.
↩Allusions to Qibla (Mecca) and Abraham. The holy Mecca was built by the Prophet Abraham.
↩The Qurān, chapter xxi, sec. 5.
↩A famous well in Mecca; Hagar’s well.
↩‘In the beginning of the third year of ‘Alāuddīn’s reign, Ulugẖ Khān and Nusrat Khān marched to Gujarāt with their amīrs, sar-lashkars, and a large army. The whole of Gujrat, including Nahrwala, was plundered. Karan, the Rāī of Gujrāt, fled to Rām Deo at Deogīr, while his wives, daughters, treasures and elephants fell into the hands of the Muslim army. The whole of Gujrāt was conquered. They also sent to Delhī an idol, which the Brahmans had called Somnāth after the destruction of Nāth by Sulṭān Maḥmūd, for the people to tread on. Nusrat Khān then proceeded to Cambay and took plenty of precious stones and valuables from the Khwājas (Muslim merchants) of Cambay, who were very rich. Kāfūr Hazārdinārī, who later on became the Malik Naīb and infatuated ‘Alāuddīn, was forcibly seized from his Khwāja and brought to the Sulṭān.’ (Barnī).
While the army was returning from Gujrāt, a serious mutiny broke out, which Khusrau refrains from mentioning. It is, however, described by Barnī. ‘When Ulugẖ Khān and Nusrat Khān were returning from Gujrāt with their spoils,’ he continues, ‘they resorted to great severity and to kicks and blows to find out what spoils had fallen into the hands of the men and in demanding the fifth part, which was the share of the state. Their demands were extortionate; they would not accept the returns made by the men but wanted more. By compelling the men to drink salt water, and by various kinds of coercion, they wished to take away from them all the gold, silver, jewels and other valuables they had. These tortures drove the men to desperation. There were a number of ‘New Muslim’ Amīrs and horsemen in the army who collected together, about two or three thousand in number, and raised a revolt. They killed Nusrat Khān’s brother, Malik Aizzuddin, who was the Amīr-i-hajib of Ulugẖ Khān and then proceeded tumultuously to Ulugẖ Khān’s tent. Ulugẖ Khān cleverly came out of his tent unrecognized and escaped to Nusrat Khān’s tent. A nephew (sister’s son) of Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn was sleeping in Ulugẖ Khān’s tent and the mutineers slew him under the impression that he was Ulugẖ Khān. The disturbance spread through the whole army and there was a grave danger that the spoils (of Gujrāt) would be lost. But as ‘Alāuddīn’s power was destined to increase, even such a disturbance was soon quelled. The horse and foot of the army gathered before Nusrat Khān’s tent, the ‘New Muslim’ Amīrs and horsemen were dispersed, and their ringleaders, who had instigated the revolt, fled for refuge to the rais and other rebellious (chiefs). Further inquiry into the spoils was given up, and Nusrat Khān and Ulugẖ Khān reached Delhī with the spoils, treasures, elephants and slaves they had obtained in the plunder of Gujrāt.
‘When news of the “New Muslim” revolt reached Delhī, Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn, from the cruelty that was ingrained in his nature, ordered the wives and children of all the rebels, high and low, to be captured and imprisoned. Now was begun the practice of punishing women and children for the misdeeds of men, which had not till then been known in Delhī. But a more horrid act of tyranny was committed by Nusrat Khān, the author of many acts of violence in the City. In revenge for his brother’s death, he dishonoured and disgraced the wives of those who had struck his brother with their axes; he gave them to sweepers to be used as prostitutes and ordered their suckling children to be broken to pieces on their heads. His actions filled people with horror and dismay. A shiver went through the hearts of men.’
A short sketch of the conquest is also found in the Dawal Rānī. ‘When the territory of Sind, the mountains and the sea, had become obedient to him, the Sulṭān’s exalted judgment decided that the Rāī of Gujrāt should also come within his power. He sent Ulugẖ Khān to scatter the dust of that province to the winds and to defeat the Rāī with his superior wisdom. Like lions (the Mussalmāns) shed the blood of the gabrs by the side of the river and the sea; and the temple of Somnāth was overthrown with so much force that the earth trembled like the ocean.’ (Dawal Rānī).
The fortunes (or misfortunes) of Rāï Karan’s wife, Kamala Devī and his daughter, Dīval Devī, are described by Amīr Khusrau in his Dawal Rānī and are summarized in prose by Ferishta. The story is too long for citation in a foot-note. (See my monograph on Amir Khusrau, chapter ii, Messrs. Taraporevala, Bombay).
To Khusrau’s regard for the memory of Sulṭān Jalāluddīn and his reluctance to refer to anything not morally creditable to ‘Alāuddīn, we may attribute his omission of the conquest of Multān by Ulugẖ Khān and Zafar Khān. Arkali Khān, the eldest son of Sulṭān Jalāluddīn, was governor of Multan when his father was assassinated at Karra. Sulṭān Jalāluddīn’s wife, the Malka-i Jahan, instead of calling Arkali Khān, hastened to place her youngest son, Ruknuddin Ibrahim, on the throne. Her action was probably due to the expectation that she would be all in all with a minor on the throne, whereas Arkali Khān had a will of his own. But when ‘Alāuddīn advanced towards Delhī, the Malka-i Jahan found herself too weak to make a stand and most of her officers deserted to the enemy. She frantically appealed to Arkali Khān, but he had been deeply wounded by his mother’s behaviour and refused to stir. Finally when ‘Alāuddīn encamped opposite to Delhī, the Malka-i Jahan and Sulṭān Ruknuddin fled to Multān. ‘The first project, which ‘Alāuddīn entertained after his accession to the throne, was the removal of the late Sulṭān’s sons. Ulugẖ Khān and Zafar Khān were sent to Multān with many Maliks and Amīrs and an army of thirty or forty thousand horse. After they had besieged Multān for a month or two, the Kotwal and the citizens of Multān turned away from Sulṭān Jalāluddīn’s sons and some of their Amīrs joined the besiegers. Jalāluddīn’s sons asked for peace through the mediation of Shaikhul Islam Shaikh Ruknuddīn; after it had been promised and the terms settled, they came out (of the city) with the Shaikhul Islām and all their Maliks and Amīrs. Ulugẖ Khān treated them with honour and quartered them near his own tent. He sent a message of victory to Delhī, where it was read from the pulpits and then despatched to the provinces. Qubbahs (cupolas) were constructed in the City and drums beaten in joy. ‘Alāuddīn’s power over Hindūstān was now established and he had no enemy or rival to fear.’
‘Ulugẖ Khān and Zafar Khān, who had the sons of Sulṭān Jalāluddīn (both of whom had once possessed the canopy) together with all their Maliks and Amīrs in their hands, now started for Delhī. On the way they met Nusrat Khān, who had been sent to them. The two sons of Sulṭān Jalāluddīn Ulugẖu, a son-in-law of the late Sulṭān, and Malik Ahmad Chap, the ex-Naib-i Amir-i Ḥajib, were all blinded. Their harems were separated from them and their wealth, goods, slaves and slave-girls, in fact, all they possessed, were seized by Nusrat Khān, who imprisoned the sons of Sulṭān Jalāluddīn in the fort of Hansi and put the sons of Arkali to death. He brought their harems, together with the Malka-i Jahan and Ahmad Chap to Delhī and kept them as prisoners in his own house.’ (Barnī, Persian Text, pp. 249-50).
↩Allusions to the sun and planets.
↩The signs Taurus, Virgo and Capricornus.
↩Allusions to ‘manjaniq.’
↩Allusions to stars.
↩A number of ‘New Muslims’, i.e. Monogols converted to Islām, had rebelled when the army of Delhī was returning from Gujrāt and sought refuge at Rantambhor. They were among its staunchest defenders.
↩The following appears to be the sense of the sentences of which a literal translation is given above. ‘When ‘Alāuddīn began to pile up his sand-bags on the western side of the fort, the martial Hindūs (who though Saturnians were the Men of Mars as well) and their “New Muslim” comrades collected together in the three western towers of the fort, which looked like “the heaven full of stars”. From here they threw fire on the besiegers who were constructing a pāsheb at the foot of the fort and at the same time shot their arrows (Mercury) also. But the arrows they shot (so Amīr Khusrau imagines) wandered into the fire they had thrown and were consequently burnt.
↩Allusions to manjanīq (catapult). ‘Irâda, manjanīqs and magẖarabīs were various machines for shooting stones at the fort walls and were largely used in siege operations. The central piece, it seems, was a large wooden beam moving upon a pivot; the strongest men of the army were made to pull one side of the beam so that the other side moved forward and hit the stone like a cricket bat. The stones were chiselled into a round or oblong shape of the size of a football on the average. I succeeded in discovering a fairly large number of these manjanīq-stones at Chitor.
↩Allusions to seasons of the New Year.
↩i. e. after the New Year’s festival, ‘Alāuddīn distributed gold to his troops and pressed on the siege with greater vigour.
↩Allusions to fort and mosque.
↩‘Next the Sultān planned another expedition to win elephants and treasures. Ulugẖ Khān went to Jhāīn and moved towards the fort of Rantambhor. The army invested the fort as the sea invests the land. The Emperor also went after him and the august pavilion was pitched up on the hill. The fort itself was as high and exalted as the family of the Rāī, Hamīr Deo, who, though a descendant of Rāī Pithaura, exceeded his ancestor in pride. He had rāīs, rāwats, rāṇas and an army beyond computation; there were well caparisoned elephants, thousands of horses swift as the wind and footmen without limit. The fort of Rantambhor, which is two weeks’ march from Delhī, was encircled by a wall three farsangs in length. The Sulṭān attacked the fort as ‘Alī had attacked Khaibar. The magẖrabīs began to strike the fort from east and west with such force that at every stroke one of the towers threw its hat on the ground; because the stones were sent by the Emperor, the fort kissed the ground as soon as they touched it. The Sulṭān was firm in his determination and reduced the fort in a month or two. As the fort was struck by stone after stone in succession, the path which had been attempted for thirty years was cleared, and through the pious resolve of the Sulṭān, the desire of an age was fulfilled in a month. When this “land of infidelity” became the “land of Islām,” the Sulṭān assigned the palace and the fort of Rantambhor to Ulugẖ Khān while he himself returned to the capital.’ (Dawal Rānī). There are three mistakes in this short description: the time was considerably longer than is asserted, the fort was reduced not by magẖrabī strokes but through the arduous process of the pāshīb, and the affair was anything but the easy walk-over a reader of Amīr Khusrau would imagine.
Barnī’s description gives an idea of the difficulties that faced ‘Alāuddīn at Rantambhor: ‘The first expedition of the Sulṭān was against Rantambhor, which was (comparatively) nearer to Delhī and had been seized by Hamīr Deo, grandson of Rāī Pithaura of Delhī. Ulugẖ Khān, who held the territory of Bīāna, was sent against the fort and Nusrat Khān, who was governor of Karra that year, was ordered to march to his assistance with the army of Karra and the other provinces of Hindūstān. Ulugẖ Khān and Nusrat Khān captured Jhāīn and laid siege to Rantambhor. But one day Nusrat Khān, who had gone too near the fort in order to direct the construction of the pāshīb and the raising of the gargaj, was struck by a stone shot from a magẖrabī in the fort and died after two or three days. When the news was brought to ‘Alāuddīn, he came out of the city in royal splendour and started for Rantambhor. (At Tilpat, however, ‘Alāuddīn’s nephew, Akat Khān, tried to assassinate him and the plot just missed success.) After this event the Sulṭān marched by continuous stages to Rantambhor and fixed his camp there. The siege, which had been commenced before his arrival, was now pushed on with greater vigour. Ropes were brought from every side and woven into sacks, which were distributed to the army, to be filled with earth and thrown into the ditch. The pāshīb was constructed and the gargaj was raised. The besieged destroyed the pāshīb with their magẖrabī-stones and threw fire from their ramparts, while the besiegers established themselves over the territory of Jhāīn till Dhār. (At this juncture the Sulṭān’s nephews ‘Umar and Mangū revolted at Badāūn and Oudh while a freedman, Ḥājī Maula, raised a rebellion in Delhī.) News of the tumult and disturbance at Delhī was brought to ‘Alāuddīn but he had made a princely resolve to conquer Rantambhor and refused to stir from his place. The large army investing the fort was weary and sick of the siege—it was mid-summer—but from fear of ‘Alāuddīn’s punishment no horse or foot could either return from the army to Delhī or desert it and fly away to some other place. Repeated rebellions had aroused ‘Alāuddīn from his sleep and he strove hard to reduce the fort. After much bloodshed and a hard struggle, Rantambhor was at last captured, and Hamīr Deo and the “New Muslims”, who had fled to him after the Gujrāt rebellion, were put to death. The Sulṭān assigned Rantambhor and its territory to Ulugẖ Khān and returned to Delhī.’ (Tārīkh-i Fīrozī).
Ferishta adds a few details to Barnī’s account. ‘After Nusrat Khān’s death, Hamīr Deo came out of the fort with two hundred thousand horse and foot and offered battle.’ Ulugẖ Khān raised the siege and withdrew to Jhāīn, from where he wrote of the state of affairs to the Emperor. After the siege had dragged on for one year—or, according to another statement, for three years—the Emperor collected a large army from all sides and distributed bags to them. Every man filled his bag with sand and threw it into the ditch, called ‘ran,’ till an ascent to the wall being formed, the besieged were overpowered and the fort captured. Hamīr Deo fell along with his tribe. Most of the rebels, led by Moḥammad Shah, who had fled to Rantambhor from Jalore, fell in the siege. Mīr Moḥammad Shah himself was lying wounded. When the Sulṭān’s eye fell on him, he asked him out of kindness: ‘If I have your wounds attended to and rescue you from this dangerous condition, how will you behave towards me in future?’ ‘If I regain my health,’ the other replied, ‘I will put you to death and raise the son of Hamīr Deo to the throne.’ Stung to fury, the Sulṭān ordered him to be cast under the elephant’s feet, but soon after, remembering Moḥammad Shah’s courage and loyalty, he ordered the dead man to be decently buried. Further, ‘Alāuddīn put to death those who had deserted the aforesaid Rāja—the Rāja’s wazir Ranmal, etc. ‘Such has been their behaviour towards their own master,’ he said. ‘How can they be loyal to me?’
↩Allusions to eyes.
↩Antimony (surma) is extensively used in India, partly as a medicine, and partly as a toilet for the eyes. Surma is put on the eyelids with a large blunt needle; the Imperial army used its spears instead to cure the dim sight of Rāīs. Surma is generally kept in small phials of wood or ivory.
↩The whole of this passage is based on allusions to the eye. This was naturally suggested by the title of ‘Aīnul Mulk Multānī (the eye of the state), who was the first governor of Mālwa. The Ḥājib-i-Khās or Imperial Chamberlain was one of the greatest officers of the Court.
↩‘Chāksū’ is a grain, resembling a lentil, from which a remedy for the eyes is prepared. The Imperial army being commanded by ‘Aīnul Mulk, it was necessary for the Rāī to be like a grain of Chāksū so that he may be ground into powder for the ‘Eye of the State’.
↩i.e. his son.
↩The word ‘Deo’ means ‘god’ in Sanskrit and ‘demon’ or ‘giant’ in Persian. Khusrau is very fond of playing upon its two meanings.
↩‘Chashm bandī’; apparently an allusion to the still prevalent belief that through the force of magic the eyes of the audience can be made to see things which do not really exist.
↩An allusion to the Platonic Doctrine of Ideas.
↩‘Next the Emperor resolved to conquer the countries of the southern rāīs. There was a warlike wazīr, named Kūkā, who had more influence in Mālwa than the Rāī himself. He had forty thousand horsemen and foot beyond all computation. But ten thousand (horsemen) sent thither from the capital shattered Kūkā’s army. The heads of the slain reached the Sulṭān in quick succession; new flags were put on the Imperial banner. He who does not come to pay obedience to the Emperor on his “feet”, is compelled to come on his “head”! Away from Mahlik Deo, who had remained on his mountain, the Hindūs were slain and captured in large numbers. But as the Sulṭān had determined that the light of Islām was to fully illuminate those parts, he motioned to ‘Aīnul Mulk with his brows that he was to betake himself to Mālwa with speed. With the foresight he had, ‘Aīnul Mulk obeyed the order with the pupils of his eyes, and started for Mālwa with his troops, who surrounded him as the eyelashes encircle the eyes. Though General ‘Aīnul Mulk was a man of letters, he had also a reputation in the army for the strength of his dagger-thrusts. Supported by the good fortune of the Emperor, ‘Aīnul Mulk first cut down the rāīs of the place and then for a time gave grass and water to his horses round the fort of Māndū. Cutting the thorns of the ground with his dagger, he battered at the fort with iron. But it was a strange fort, farsangs in circumference and high enough to touch the mirror of the sky. ‘Aīnul Mulk tried to find a path, but it was hard to find one that would lead them to the towers that rose as high as the moon. But an opening having been suddenly discovered, the army rushed to it from both sides of the fort. The Rāī was captured and slain near the Sār, and news of the victory was sent to the Emperor, who assigned the conquered territory to ‘Aīnul Mulk.’ (Dawal Rānī).
‘‘Aīnul Mulk Multānī, one of the great maliks, was despatched with a large army to conquer the territories of Mālwa, Ujjain, Chanderī and Jālore. When ‘Aīnul Mulk reached Mālwa, Kūkā, the raja (?) of the place, came out to meet him with forty thousand Rājput horse and a hundred thousand foot. A fierce battle took place between the two armies, and ‘Aīnul Mulk was victorious. Having conquered Ujjain, Māndū, Dhāranagrī and Chanderī on the 10th Jamadiul Awwal, he sent a message of victory to the Emperor. In Delhī for seven days and nights drums were beaten in joy, and sugar was loaded in carts and distributed to the citizens. Katar Deo, ruler of the Jalore fort, was frightened at the conquest of Mālwa. He obtained a safe-conduct through the intermediation of ‘Aīnul Mulk, presented himself before the Emperor and was enrolled among the allies.’ (Ferishta).
↩The Gambheri and the Berach. A map of Chitor has been published by the Survey Department of the Government of India.
↩Meaning that though the assault sword in hand had failed, it still lay in ‘Alāuddīn’s power to knock down the fort with his magẖrabīs. But he refrained from the step owing to a spiritual message that the building would turn Muslim later. Its destruction, therefore, would have been highly impolitic. Further, the stones of the fort, being true Mussalmāns like all inanimate objects, kept close together as all Mussalmāns should. They knew the future but kept the secret to themselves, lest the Rājputs in disgust should pull down their treacherous fort.
↩Referring to a well-known story of the Qurān, chap. xxvii, sec. 2. Hudhud is the bird that brings the news of Balquis, queen of Seba, to Solomon. The famous Padminī is apparently responsible for the allusions to Solomon’s Seba.
↩Allusions to colours.
↩The village headmen, who among the Rajputs were also officers of the army.
↩Allusions to the 10th of Muḥarram more pleasant than the ‘Id. ‘Alāuddīn, Khusrau has said before, entered the fort of Chitor on the 11th of Muḥarram. Here it is stated that the army started for Delhī after the 10th of Muḥarram. There is really no inconsistency between the two statements, the 10th of Muḥarram having been introduced merely for the sake of allusions in the paragraph.
↩‘Then he marched against Chitor in state and reduced it in a single expedition. There, also, was a Rāī with a large army, who, to speak the truth, was the most exalted of all Hindū rulers. But the Emperor did not waste much time; the fort was reduced in two months with such effect that Saturn became anxious about the safety of his own constellation. It was named Khiẓrābād and presented to Khiẓr Khān. Chitor, the paradise of the Hindūs, is a wonderful fort and has springs and meadows on every side.’ (Dawal Rānī).
‘Sulṭān ‘Alāuddīn came out of the city with his army and marched to Chitor, which he invested and captured in a short time and then returned to Delhī.’ (Barnī).
The story set afloat by Colonel James Tod will not bear a critical examination. The following is Ferishta’s account of the famous Padminī and the later history of Chitor:—
‘In the meantime Ratan Sen, Rāja of Chitor, had obtained his deliverance in a most unusual way. The details of the incident are these. After the Rāja had been in jail for some time, it came to the Emperor’s ears that among the Rāja’s women (zanān) there was one, Padminī—a woman of fine stature, with dark eyes and moon-like face, and adorned with all the accomplishments of a beauty. The Emperor sent the Rāja a message that his release would depend on his presenting her (to the Sulṭān). The Rāja consented and sent messengers to call his family, who had taken refuge in inaccessible hill-tracts, so that the Emperor’s chosen may be picked out of them. But the Rāja’s Rājput relatives were shocked at the message. They reproached him severely and wished to mix a little poison in some food and send it to him; he would take it and withdraw into the world of the dead without becoming notorious for his dishonour. The Rāja’s daughter, however, who was famous for her intelligence among her tribe and kindred, disliked this proposal. “I have thought of a plan,” she said, “by which my father’s life will be saved and yet his honour will not be lost. It is this. Despatch a large number of litters full of warriors with a body of horse and foot to Delhī and at the same time publish the news, that in obedience to the Emperor’s order, the Rāja’s women are coming to him. On reaching the suburbs, they are to enter the city at night and take the road to the Rāja’s prison-house. On reaching there all the Rājputs are to draw their swords, overpower anyone who stands in their way and enter the prison; then seating my father on a swift-footed horse, they are to take the way to their homes with speed.” The counsellors approved of the plan and acted upon it. A body of devoted warriors sat in the litters and came to Delhī. When a part of the night had passed, they entered the city. “We have brought Padminī and all the relatives of the Rāja,” they cried. On nearing the prison, the Rājputs drew their swords, rushed out of their litters and quickly cut the guards to pieces; then they broke the Rāja’s chains, mounted him on a horse and struggled out of the city like a bird out of its cage. Joined, next, by a body of Rājputs, who had been waiting for them, they took the way to their homes. The Emperor’s horsemen pursued them on their journey and overtook them at several places; many Rājputs were slain in the skirmishes, but the Rāja, somehow or other, with great difficulty reached the hills, where his family was living. Rescued from the Emperor’s torturing claws through the fortunate plan of his accomplished daughter, the Rāja began to plunder the territory round the Chitor Fort. ‘Alāuddīn, however, in accordance with the demands of political expediency, took the fort from Khiẓr Khān and bestowed it on the Rāja’s sister’s son, Karīz Rāī, who was in the Emperor’s service and had given many proofs of his loyalty. In a short time Kharīz Rāī strengthened himself wonderfully in the place; all the Rājputs were pleased with his government and joined him. He remained firmly loyal till the Emperor’s death. Every year he came with presents from his land to kiss the threshold of the great conqueror, and was honoured with the gift of a horse and a special robe, after which he returned to his home. Whenever the Sulṭān’s army went on an expedition, he appeared obediently with five thousand horse and ten thousand foot and exposed his life to many dangers.’
↩Allusions to horses.
↩A play on the word Deogir, which may mean the place of a demon or of a god.
↩The famous Malik Kāfūr Hazārdīnāri. He held the office of Malik Nāib or ‘Regent of the State’.
↩Malik Kāfūr, so called because he had, till then, led three expeditions to the Deccan.
↩Allusions to the sword.
↩Allusions to mirrors.
↩The authorities for the second conquest of Deogir are given in Appendix A along with the authorities on the other Deccan invasions.
↩Allusions to wild beasts.
↩Allusions to birds.
↩A fabulous bird of the Shāhnāmah.
↩Allusions to wild beasts.
↩i.e. the Sulṭān.
↩A sort of vetch. Being enemies of the Emperor, they had to be soft as māsh and consequently the Imperial author proceeds to grind them between two magẖrabī stones to provide the right kind of dinner-bread for an Imperial army.
↩Allusion to birds.
↩A plain or platform in Delhī.
↩‘Next the Emperor started with his army for Siwāna. There, too, was a strong-armed Rāī, named Satal Deo, whose “stone” had broken the balance of other Rāīs. He was powerful like Ahrman and all the rawats bowed to his authority. In his fort of stone, which was stronger than iron, there were many gabrs with hearts of steel. They had used their daggers and dispossessed other rāīs of their blankets. The Imperial army had been investing the fort for five or six years without being able to injure half-a-brick of the edifice. But in a single move, the Emperor took his army to Siwāna like a deluge, and Satal Deo, in spite of his elephantine stature, was sent to sleep like an elephant through the vigilance of the Emperor.’ (Dawal Rānī).
‘While the Malik Nāīb was in the Deccan, the Emperor marched against the fort of Siwāna, which is to the south of Delhī. The army of Delhī had been besieging it for some years without achieving anything. ‘Alāuddīn encircled the fort and reduced the besieged to straits. Satal Deo, the Rāja of Siwāna, humbly sent a silver effigy of himself with golden cords round its neck, a hundred elephants, and other valuable presents to the Emperor and asked for his pardon. The Emperor took this in good humour, but said that it would do no good till Satal Deo came in person. The Rāja perforce came out of the fort and paid his respects to the Emperor. ‘Alāuddīn took possession of all that the fort contained, even the knives and needles. Such articles as were of use to the government were assigned to the royal factories; the rest were given over in payment of their salaries to the troops and camp-followers. The territory was divided among the amīrs. The empty fort was handed back to the Rāja.
‘About the same time the fort of Jālore was also conquered. It is said that Kanīr Deo, Rāja of Jālore, came to pay his homage to the Emperor at Delhī. “There is no zamindar in Hindūstān to-day strong enough to challenge my troops,” ‘Alāuddīn declared on one occasion when Kanīr Deo was present in the majlis. “If I challenge and do not prevail,” Kanīr blurted out in his excessive ignorance and folly, “I will know how to die.” The Emperor was annoyed at these words, but said nothing, and permitted Kanīr Deo to return to his territory. When some two or three months had passed, the Emperor determined to show his strength. He ordered a slave-girl, named Gul-i Bihisht, to march against Jālore and reduce it by force. Gul-i Bihisht reached her destination, besieged the fort and displayed such wonderful courage that it never occurred to Kanīr Deo to come out and offer battle. The besieged were reduced to straits and the fort was about to fall when Gul-i Bihisht suddenly fell ill and died. Her son, Shāhīn, took the army in hand and tried to overpower the besieged like his mother. But Kanīr Deo now saw that the Emperor’s anger was inevitable and determined to make a desperate struggle. He collected all his men, came out of the fort and gave battle. As chance would have it, Shāhīn and Kanīr Deo came face to face and Shāhīn was killed. The other amīrs, unable to continue the struggle, retreated a few stages. ‘Alāuddīn was furious at the news and sent Kamāluddīn to lead the enterprise with a new army. Kamāluddīn showed great activity and courage. He reduced the fort, slew Kanīr Deo with his sons and followers and seized his treasure. When the message of victory reached Delhī, drums were beaten in joy.’ (Ferishta).
Ferishta is mistaken in stating that Satal Deo was deprived of his wealth and allowed to live in his fort. Khusrau definitely states in both his works that Satal Deo was slain. Ferishta’s mistake is due to the fact that he applies to Satal Deo the verses in which Khusrau has described the fate of the Rāī of Arangal.
↩Allusions to stars and the sky.
↩Nausherwān was the famous Persian Emperor in whose reign the Arabian Prophet was born; Buzurchmehr was his wise wazīr. The reference is to ‘Alāuddīn and his ‘nāīb’ or ‘regent’, Malik Kāfūr.
↩Allusions to uneven roads.
↩‘Binās may be read as Bambās. The Kunwārī is the Kuhari of the maps, and the Niyas (Binās) and Bashuji (Bhoji) must be the rivers now known as the Sind and Betwa.’—(Elliot).
↩Allusions to the stars.
↩i.e. the Malik Nāīb Kāfūr Hazārdīnārī. He was the Regent of the Empire and Commander-in-Chief of the invading army. The author finds every kind of laudatory title for him. He is often referred to as the ‘Sah-Kash’, winner of three campaigns and sometimes simply as ‘the Malik’. He is not to be confused with Sirājuddīn, generally known as Khwāja Hājī, who accompanied the expeditionary force as ‘Arīz-i Mumālik’ or Minister of War.
↩Allusions to quadrupeds.
↩Allusions to prayers for victory.
↩Rajab is known as the month of God while Sha‘bān, the month which comes after it, is known as the month of the Prophet.
↩Allusions to rivers and streams.
↩Allusions to the story of Solomon.
↩Allusions to hills and desert.
↩Allusions to musical instruments.
↩Allusions to thunder, lightning and rain.
↩Allusions to war.
↩Allusions to the sword.
↩Elliot says Bijānagar.
↩A doab is a piece of land between two rivers. Yashar may be read as Bishnahr or Yashahr. Bujī is Baruji in Elliot’s manuscript.
↩Allusions to creeping creatures.
↩On which the cow stands holding the earth on her horns.
↩Allusions to fire.
↩i.e. after being scolded (oiled) with the tongue and threatened with death, Anānīr had the fort restored to him on promise of obedience, so that ‘the flame of insurrection might subside.’ It was not a part of ‘Alāuddīn’s programme to establish his government over the conquered territory and, consequently, the legitimate successor of the late muqaddam had to be found, so that the required promise of obedience may be taken from him.
↩Allusions to trees and branches.
↩Allusions to instruments of war.
↩Allusions to sun and cloud.
↩Allusions to forts.
↩Allusions to stars and sky.
↩Allusions to Sha’bān and Barāt.
↩Allusions to the army.
↩A tumān is a body of ten thousand men. According to this calculation the besieging army was over a hundred thousand.
↩Allusions to carpentry.
↩Allusions to the instruments of war.
↩i.e., when the night was far advanced.
↩Allusions to water animals.
↩Allusions to iron instruments.
↩Allusions to ‘Mīr Hājib’ and ‘chaugān’.
↩Allusions to Munjanīq.
↩Allusions to structures for reducing forts.
↩Allusions to sieges.
↩Allusions to the month of Ramaẓān.
↩Or the ‘grand night’, being the night on which the Quran was first revealed
↩Allusions to ladders.
↩i.e. to perform their ablution, which, as stated by the following sentence, is the Mussalmān’s armour. The army first said its morning prayer; the attack did not commence till the sun was ‘a spear high.’
↩The Fourth Caliph, Hazrat ‘Alī, who conquered the forts of Khaibar in Arabia.
↩Allusions to attack on the fort.
↩Meaning, as the following sentences suggest, that the footmen took possession of one wing of the fort and retained it in spite of all counter-attacks.
↩‘An early eastern use of Huzza! huzza! The same exclamations occur in the Miftāḥul Futūḥ.’—(Elliot.)
↩Allusions to instruments of war.
↩Allusions to fort and ditch.
↩Allusions to treasures. Buried treasures, it is believed, are guarded by snakes.
↩The Rāī desired to retain at least a part of his treasure.
↩Allusions to precious stones.
↩Or, literally, ‘the nephews of showers, the sisters of raindrops, the orphans of pearls and the livers of mines.’
↩Allusions to stables.
↩The text says Kohī (mountain-horse or country-breed) and bahri (sea-horse or imported breed). As the latter variety was Arabian, its main feature was fleetness of foot.
↩Various countries in medieval days were famous for different weapons; Persia for its bows, Tartary for its lance and India for its sword. Reference to the Indian or Hindī sword is often found in Persian literature.
↩Allusions to elephants.
↩Allusions to weights and balances.
↩A curious quibble of which it is difficult to find the exact significance. Laddar Deo seems to have meant that if either his life or the whole of his property was taken away, the balance would be upset. If they took away his life, ‘the scale holding my wealth would sink to the ground’—perhaps a veiled threat that in the last extremity he would subject his jewels to the hammer. What he desired was that the victor should leave him some part of his wealth, and take instead of it a portion of his prestige by subjecting him to a yearly tribute. When equals are taken from equals the remainders are equal; and Laddar Deo, left with a part of his prestige and a part of his wealth, would straight-away attack the other Rāīs and pay the Imperial tribute out of their pockets.
↩Allusions to jewels and treasures.
↩Both Ferishta and Barnī state that ‘Alāuddīn had ordered the Malik Nāīb not to take any extreme measures against Laddar Deo and to remain content with seizing his treasures.
↩The soft words of the ambassadors brought self-possession to the Rāī as closing the mouth of a vessel brings ‘self-possession’ to the mercury it contains.
↩Allusions to stars.
↩The canopy was the symbol of Imperial authority, and people bowed before it even when the Emperor was not personally present.
↩Allusions to elephants. I have not translated literally this paragraph which has no historical significance.
↩Allusions to jewels.
↩Allusions to horses.
↩Allusions to philosophy that confound the understanding.
↩Khwāja Ḥājī’s meaning is obvious. If the Rāī had failed to send any valuables, which by the agreement he was bound to, the ambassadors would be held responsible for the default, provided they were cognisant of it. As the Imperial army could not enter the fort, the only method of getting the agreement enforced was by superfluous threats. For the rest, Amīr Khusrau’s ornamentation may be ignored; such logical language would not be used even in the inter-university negotiations of to-day; and the Rāī’s ambassadors, with their eloquent Hindī, could not have used the logical terms put into their mouths.
↩The Persian word ‘jauhar’, which in common parlance means a precious stone, also means ‘substance’ in Arabian logic; the sense in which ‘jauhar’ is used by Muslim scholars is the same in which ‘substance’, as distinguished from ‘accident’ is used by Western writers. Amīr Khusrau, in this paragraph, constantly plays on the two meanings of ‘jauhar’.
↩This is the famous Koh-i-Nūr, which according to many later writers (including Khafi Khān) was brought by ‘Alāuddīn’s army from the Deccan. ‘Though logicians’, to put the ambassadors’ words in a different form, ‘declare that there is no such thing as a “unique substance”, except the Divine Being, yet the Koh-i-Nūr diamond has no peer and stands in a class by itself. You cannot find a diamond to match it in the whole world.’
↩That is, no one had overpowered the Rāī and divided up his treasure before and he imagined that it was one and indivisible like ‘substance’. But the Imperial sword proved that it could cut and divide everything.
↩Apparently of threats. The ‘terms’ really used by Khwāja Ḥājī were not to be found in the ancient logic of Aristotle.
↩He promised to pay 10,000,000,000—ten thousand millions only(?). The figure seems to be purely suppositious. But we are here dealing not with the revenues but the heirlooms of states.
↩i.e. Khwāja Ḥājī, the ‘Arīẓ-i-Mumālik.
↩Keeper of the Army Roll.
↩Which is the shape of a horse-shoe.
↩Allusions to Holy Mecca.
↩All four are hills famous in Muslim traditions.
↩A famous governor of Persia, whose cousin Moḥammad bin Qāsim invaded Sindh.
↩Allusions to conquest and victory.
↩The Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea.
↩A city in the Island of Ormuza.
↩The Qurān, Chap. vii, sec. 22 and Chap. lxi, sec. 2.
↩Allusions to heavy loads.
↩The elephants.
↩Allusions to stars.
↩or Natgal.
↩‘Allusions to the Shah Namah.’
↩Rakhsh was Rustum’s horse and Godurz was his son. The biographies of the heroes of the Shah Namah, whose names occur in this paragraph, need not be detailed here.
↩Allusions to uneven roads.
↩Kai Kaus, a famous emperor of Persia, attempted to fly to the sky on a throne carried by birds, but when the birds were tired, he fell down and died.
↩The fabulous bird of the Shah Namah who nursed Zal, father of Rustam.
↩Clear and sparkling allusions to water.
↩i.e. the trunks of the elephants.
↩Allusions to the ‘Day of Resurrection’. The quotations in the paragraph are from the Quranic description of the Day of Resurrection.
↩Allusions to wind and water.
↩Probably the Tapti is meant.
↩Allusions to health and illness.
↩i.e. spears.
↩Allusions to counsel and advice.
↩i.e. the army of Delhi.
↩Allusions to trees.
↩Allusions to goods and merchandise.
↩Dalvi, besides being a proper name, means ‘a bucket’; Bīr means ‘well’; Samandar (in Hindi) means the ‘sea’. The reader should be prepared to meet many plays on the three words; for, at the very beginning, Paras Deo Dalvī wishes to draw the whole of Dhūr Samandar into a single bucket.
↩Allusions to the army and to heavenly assistance.
↩Here follow a number of quotations from the Quran, which I have omitted.
↩Allusions to water.
↩Meaning the ‘town of destruction’; the title seems to have been given to it for no reason save that of rhyming it with Aīmanābād, ‘the city of safety’. Paras Deo was an ally of the empire. ‘Dwara Samudra was the capital of the Bellala rajas, and Vira Narasinha was the name of the prince who was overthrown in this invasion. See Wilson’s Mackenzie Collection, Int. p. cxiii; Buchanan’s Mysore, iii, pp. 391, 474, ‘Thomas, Prinsep’s Useful Tables, p. 276’ (Elliot).
↩Literally meaning the ‘breast.’
↩A play on the words, ‘goi’ meaning ‘ball’ and ‘dawari’ meaning ??pretence,’ ‘claim’.
↩‘No doubt the present Sina and Bhima, but the position of Godavari is transposed.’ (Elliot).
↩‘Dalvi is probably meant for an inhabitant of Taluva, the modern Canera.’ (Elliot).
↩‘This should signify Bir (Vira), the Raja of Dwarasamudra, and Vira, the Raja of Pandya; but there was evidently a confusion in the mind of the writer as to the persons and places, as seen in this passage. In another place he says “the fort which is called Bir and Dhur-samundar”. Wassaf calls the Pandya Raja “Tira Pandi”, and makes a pun on this name, calling him “tira-bakht”, showing that he did not know his real name.’ (Elliot).
↩‘There is great punning here about wells (bīr) and buckets (dalvī) which it is impossible to render into English so as to make it comprehensible.’ (Elliot).
↩Allusions to the sky.
↩Two stars near the pole of the Lesser Bear.
↩Allusions to fruits, fresh and ripe.
↩Allusions to uneven paths.
↩So I interpret the author’s words—‘soft-mouthed creatures with hard hoofs, soft-moving creatures that endured much hardship and kind-hearted creatures that strove hard.’
↩Allusions to the fort.
↩A play on the word ‘samandar’ which means both ‘sea’ and ‘salamandar.’
↩Allusions to water animals.
↩In Persian as well as Hindustani, the word ‘thorn’ (Khar or Kanta) is used for the thin pointed bones of a fish.
↩Allusions to fire, like the garden of Abraham.
↩Whenever the Rāī was prepared to submit, his advisers incited him to continue the struggle. ‘It would be impossible to re-establish the prestige of their kingdom after the shock of a humiliating peace. Their power rested on the fact that their kingdom was indigenous and as old as slamandar. True, the probability was that the imperial troops would win, specially when the main army came up. But, after all, death comes sooner or later, and would it not be better to die with honour?’ The Rāī did not agree. ‘To be cremated after death was one thing; to be burnt to death while living was another. Nor was there any good in throwing oil over fire. Continued struggle would mean greater ruin.’ He would, therefore, make peace.
↩Intoxicating allusions to wine.
↩i.e. the towers of the fort.
↩Allusions to Islam and infidelity.
↩One of the companions of the Arabian Prophet, whose memory has been most tenderly cherished by the Mussalmans, is the Prophet’s muazzin, Hazrat Bilal. It was inevitable that Amir Khusrau should play upon the name, which the Hindu Rai shared with the Muslim muazzin.
↩Allusions to hair.
↩Meaning ‘curly locks’; there is an inevitable play on the name.
↩Allusions to demons and fairies.
↩An illustration of the author’s figures of speech. Balak Deo is said to have been equal to a hundred thousand demons simply because his name could be twisted to mean a ‘hundred-thousand.’
↩Allusions to wisdom and judgment.
↩‘There is no God but Allah.’
↩Allusions suitable and straight as the arrow.
↩Allusions to bow and string.
↩Allusions to elephants.
↩The shrub, lawsonia inermis, used by Indian women for dyeing their hands and feet It is called menhdi in Hindustani
↩Allusions to horses.
↩Name of the Emperor Khusrau’s horse.
↩I have slightly compressed Khusrau’s florid description.
↩Allusions to things sublime.
↩i.e. Sunday.
↩Allusions to camels.
↩‘Bactrian camels’, or, in the alternative, ‘locusts’.
↩Allusions to hills and passes.
↩Elliot says ‘Sarmali’.
↩‘After traversing the passes, they arrived at night on the banks of the river Kanobari, and bivouacked on the sands.’ (Elliot). I do not find the name Kanobari in my MS. at this place.
↩The Quran, chap. xxv, sect. 3.
↩Allusions to the sword.
↩Does not signify forced conversion but battle, in which the head first stands up and then falls before the arched sword.
↩It was necessary for the Hindus to be cowards (namard) so that the author may be able to compare them with Mardi (manliness), the name of their town.
↩Allusions to well and water.
↩Punning on the word bīr (well) is the very essence of this paragraph.
↩The custom of using sand for drying ink by sprinkling it over the written page is still common in India
↩Allusions to the betel-leaf.
↩The pun from Bīr and well changes to Bīr and bīrah (betel-leaf), the latter being written in Persian in the same way as Bīr.
↩Allusions to the stars.
↩Allusions to saddle and bridle.
↩The Qurān, chap. v, sect. 8.
↩Allusions to Islam and infidelity.
↩Allusions to the cloud, showering pearls.
↩Or, in the alternative, ‘and sometimes showed the sword the way to Abyssinia from Hind’.
↩Or, ‘and drew them away from their strings’.
↩Allusions to being lost.
↩Allusions to elephants and their burdens.
↩Elliot reads ‘one hundred and eight’, which, without the dots, would be written in the same way as one hundred and twenty. His account of the campaign is very incorrect and confused at this place.
↩The reference is to the memorable invasion of Mecca by Abraha, the Christian Viceroy of the King of Abyssinia at Yemen (510 A.D.). ‘Have you not considered how your Lord dealt with the possessor of the elephant? Did he not cause their war to end in confusion, and send down (to prey) upon them birds in flocks, casting them against hard stones like straw eaten up’. (The Qurān, chap. cv).
↩Allusions to fish and water.
↩Allusions to forest.
↩Allusions to elephants and clouds.
↩Allusions to Islam and infidelity.
↩Allusions to the high sky. The reference here seems to be to a well-known proverb that ‘the earth is the paradise of infidels and the hell of true believers.’
↩Referring to the well-known phenomenon that after seeing a strong colour the eye sees its complementary colour for some time.
↩Allusions to Ka’ba and idol-temples.
↩Allusions to gold and jewels.
↩Allusions to idol-worshippers.
↩‘Allusive to a practice, which it is unnecessary to particularise more closely, which is still said to be much observed among the Khatris, and which Hindus in general repudiate, attributing it at the same time to the Saraogis’. (Elliot), vol. iii, p. 91.
↩This sentence is taken from Elliot.
↩Ceylon is said to have been the place of Adam’s descent. The refusal to bow down before Adam was the cause of Satan’s fall.
↩Allusions to precious stones and gold.
↩Allusions to the luminaries of the sky.
↩Bīr, well, and dhul, drum.
↩‘Kham’ in Elliot.
↩The Quran, chap xxii, sect. 1.
↩Allusions to elephants.
↩Allusions to horses.
↩Allusions to jewels.
↩Allusions to prayer and worship.
↩Allusion to heavenly bodies.
↩Allusion to army and troops.
↩Allusions to the royal court.
↩Apparently meaning the Siri Palace, where, according to Barni, the Malik Naib presented the spoils to the Sultan on various occasions.
↩Alluding to the white and red waist-bands of the courtiers.
↩As we learn from Ibn-i Batuta, the official cry of the hajibs was Bismillah (in the name of Allah) whenever a Mussalman was granted audience; but when a Hindu was introduced, they cried ‘Hadakallah’ (May Allah lead thee aright!).
↩A verse of the Quran known by that name.
↩The four quls are the last four chapters of the Quran.
↩Allusions to the ‘Diwan-i Insha’ (Secretariat).
↩Allusions to the ‘Quran.’
↩ziauddin Barni, Tarikh-i Feroz Shahi, Persian text, pages 254-61
↩Barni Persian Text, pp. 253-4.
↩Barni, pp. 299-302.
↩* Roman figures refer to the pages of the Introduction, and Arabic figures to the pages of the Text and Appendices. Foot-notes are indicated by the letter n.
↩